“alright,” yeri sits perched on the back of the couch, tapping her chin, “what are we doing with the walking pr nightmare?”

 

wendy looks up from her phone, “well, she looks… 16? 17? she needs school.”

 

“ah, yes, of course education is your primary concern,” yeri drawls, “well, ms 3.93 gpa, why not tutor her while she’s here? it’s not like we can let her leave the house.”

 

“why not? just throw a cap and mask on her. everyone will think she’s seulgi.” joy retorts, typing furiously on her phone.

 

irene shakes her head, “it’s too risky. especially with our unit debut coming up soon. the paps will be hounding us for a while.”

 

joy leans back, “gotta admit, your kid has impeccable timing. just as your debut’s gaining steam, she comes in like that.” she snaps her fingers, “impressive.”

 

the leader just pinches her nose, exhaling, “she’ll have to stay in seulgi’s room for the time being. wendy, is it too much to ask you to help her with schoolwork for a while?”

 

the canadian smiles, “don’t worry about it. I’m sure I still have my notes online somewhere.”

 

irene ignores joy’s snort, “we’ll take turns keeping an eye on her. I know most of us are busy with schedules, but I don’t feel good about having her here alone.”

 

“still, she’s a growing kid. and from what I saw, she’s definitely not going to stay put.” yeri points out, “it might be better to bring her with you to the practice rooms every once in a while. no one will bother you, and if someone asks, just say she’s a new trainee or something.”

 

irene stays quiet at that, brows furrowing as she contemplates. she looks up at the sound of a door closing, as seulgi lets go of the handle gently, blinking at the sudden attention.

 

“she’s settled in. I gave her some of my clothes, but she might need a few from you too, sooyoung.” joy waves her away at that, acquiescing.

 

“yeah, yeah. thank god she got your genes; imagine inheriting unnie’s short legs. the kid would never get anywhere.”

 

“park sooyoung. wanna die?”

 

“nah, you couldn’t reach my neck.” 

 

“you little-” 

 

“anyway.” seulgi cuts in, eyes curving up as she smiles at their antics, “what were you guys talking about?”

 

yeri counts down on her fingers, “1. she’s staying in your room. 2. wendy’s tutoring her. 3. we’re taking turns babysitting her. 4. we’re debating on whether or not she’s allowed to leave the dorm.”

 

“oh.” seulgi sits next to irene, knees brushing. irene jumps a little, pretending not to notice the cursory glance the dancer gives her, “well. our unit hasn’t debuted yet, so there won’t be lots of media attention on us. I think it’s okay if we bring her to sm or cafés, as long as we use the car.”

 

joy smacks the table, startling everyone. irene’s hands automatically go up, one to her ears, another to seulgi’s shoulder. it’s instinctual, but she’s not sure why the warmth beneath her hand feels like it’s burning her, travelling up her hand to her face. she takes it back after a moment, clasping her hands together in her lap.

 

“it’s settled then! we can shuttle her around like she’s a secret idol boyfriend we haven’t told management about. I’m gonna go wash up.” joy stands up, beelining to the bathroom as yeri complains.

 

“come on, I was gonna use it!”

 

“the early bird catches the worm!”

 

irene’s throat clears, and she finds her voice, “it’s okay, yerim. go wash up in my room.” 

 

yeri throws a grateful glance at her, making a show of dragging herself off the couch before bouncing to the master bedroom. wendy follows soon after, giving irene a meaningful stare (‘I’ll let you two talk’) and seulgi a kind smile before retiring to her room.

 

the living room falls into a loud silence as the final door clicks shut. irene feels the overwhelming urge to fidget, the warm press of their thighs being the only thing she could focus on right now. 

 

and it’s not that she feels uncomfortable with seulgi. it really isn’t. the past few months have meant that they’ve been stuck at the hip as they went from meeting room to meeting room, irene alternating between pretending to listen to whatever capitalist drivel the directors were peddling and watching seulgi stare attentively, hanging on their every word. 

 

and she probably should listen because. 10 years. it’s been 10 years of sweat and tears and slamming the repeat button on her phone as she pulled herself up, saying “again” to herself, getting into position. 10 years of smiling and pretending and giving away pieces of herself to executives, producers, and fans. and it’s finally culminated into what she’s wanted since she stepped into the sm practice room in the fall of 2009.

 

the boardroom falls into silence as the last producer leaves the room, waving from behind the trademark glass walls of sm entertainment. it feels like a silent warning, a quiet, persistent whisper that follows them wherever they go. 

 

you’re being watched. you can’t hide. give us your biggest smile.

 

she lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding when seulgi turns to her, eyes curving as she gives her a toothy grin.

 

“so, a subunit, huh? what a boring way of telling us our dreams have come true.”

 

she can’t help but laugh at that, “yeah. classic sm.”

 

seulgi’s face drops into an uncharacteristically grim face, putting her hands onto the desk, clasped tightly, “ma’ams, we regret to inform you that… you’re going to have the time of your lives. you get to sing. together.”

 

she plays along, “oh no. how tragic.”

 

seulgi nods gravely, “I know.”

 

they hold it for a couple seconds longer before devolving into giggles, the sound reverberating around the boardroom. irene gazes fondly at seulgi snuffling, that adorable snort-like laugh that only comes out when she’s ridiculously happy. it takes a while for them to calm down, seulgi wiping at her eyes before she sighs contently, looking up at irene. 

 

“let’s try our very best, unnie. for our younger selves.”

 

her breath catches a little at that, and she wills herself to give a small smile, “for our younger selves.”

 

so it’s not that she’s uncomfortable with seulgi. but half her focus is stuck on what lies beyond seulgi’s room. the implications of a full-grown teenage child that she and seulgi chose to have leaves a knot in her stomach, insistent and tugging. it means… it means-

 

“hey.” she just about jumps half a foot off the couch, and very quickly regrets it as she gets a look at seulgi’s face. it’s just as kind and gentle as it always is, but there’s a disquiet - maybe anxiety? hurt? that she can’t quite hide in her eyes.

 

she attempts to recover, slapping the dancer lightly on the shoulder, “you scared me.” she admonishes her, pouting exaggeratedly. 

 

that helps a little, her eyes brighter as she scratches the back of her neck, sheepish, “sorry. you seemed really deep in thought.”

 

“you know. just thinking about… things.” she falls two steps short of dismissive, voice coming out as pensive instead. 

 

seulgi hums, and it’s quiet for another couple moments. irene finds herself toying with the fabric of her shirt, rubbing the cotton rhythmically. back and forth, back and forth.

 

“so. a kid, huh?” seulgi flashes a lopsided grin, the one she likes to give when she’s referencing an inside joke, “that’s not something you find out everyday.”

 

“dispatch would go crazy.” irene offers, her smile a weak tug on her lips.

 

seulgi stares at her, worrying at her bottom lip, and irene resists the urge to reach out, curling up her fists in her lap. the dancer finally sighs, ruffling her hair in frustration.

 

“look. neither of us expected this to be how our day went. I just want to check in. do you want to talk about it?” she prods, gentle, “are you uncomfortable sharing your room with me? I can ask wendy if she’s okay with sharing.”

 

“no!” she bursts out, as surprised as seulgi looks. she lowers her voice to a near-whisper, “no, I’m okay with sharing. besides, wendy needs to focus on recovering. I already feel bad asking her to tutor sumin.” saying her name reminds her of the weight of what they’re talking about. their kid. 

 

“and I don’t know if I can talk about… it, yet. I don’t think I’ve processed what’s happening, yet.” it’s not untrue.

 

the curve of seulgi’s lips turn wry, “you’re telling me. I haven’t had my scheduled breakdown yet,”   she teases, but her eyes quickly turns serious again, “we do have to talk about it though. eventually.”

 

“do we have to?” it comes out as a pitiful whine, and seulgi just shakes her head fondly.

 

“yes, hyun, we do. anyway,” her eyes turn towards her door, which has been suspiciously quiet for a while now, “one of us should go check on her. see how she’s holding up.”

 

irene exhales shakily. she’s not sure she can face the subject of her panic, but she knows she has to face her sooner or later.

 

“don’t worry about it. go rest, I’ll check up on her.” 

 

seulgi eyes her, worry evident on her face, “you sure? I can do it.”

 

“hey, kkangseul, which one of us had to raise yerim? I can deal with one teenager.” she crosses her arms, glaring playfully. 

 

“fair enough. I can already see her getting spoiled by you.”

 

she turns her nose up at that, “who said anything about spoiling? I’m a tiger mom.”

 

“sure, hyun.” seulgi pauses, brows furrowing ever so slightly before she clears slightly, “hey, hyun?”

 

“hmm?”

 

the brunette blinks twice, nervously, “hug?”

 

oh, seulgi. she grins, the tug in her stomach finally relenting.

 

“of course, bear.”

 

 

---

 

 

sumin throws herself onto the bed, landing with a small “oof” as she bounces against the surface. she’d gotten bored of organising the clothes her mom gave her, examining them till she was sure they were satisfactory. not that she doubted her mom, of course. she’d always admired the ease with which she put outfits together; simple and chic one day, flashy and model-esque the next.

 

she grabs the iPad next to her head, opening instagram and scrolling through both her moms’ pages. she has a rough idea of their timeline, but it wouldn’t hurt to get a better read on where exactly she’d managed to end up.

 

she can’t help but laugh at her ma’s posts, ecletic and kid-like in their randomness, from long shadows to nostrils to cheesy videos. she could be the ‘bad cop’ of the pair, strict but fair when it came to doling out punishments or critique. but she was also the first to be silly, cracking jokes or throwing small pranks, even after day-long schedules and sunken, makeup-free eyes. 

 

her mom’s posts are more fashion-focused, dotted with sponsored posts as well as daily fits, garnering up to more than a million likes for her clean looks and natural poses. contrasting to what a lot of her friends thought, seulgi tended to be the more serious of the two, gentle but firm when reminding sumin that she should strive for perfection, or at the very least her best. she was never aggressive, but her “I’m not angry, I’m disappointed” tactic worked wonders. 

 

she doesn’t really know when her moms got together, only that it was around the time their subunit, ‘Irene&Seulgi’, had debuted. she’d originally hoped to land sometime after their debut, maybe when promotions were over, but a large part of her is glad she’d landed where she had. perhaps seeing them pre-relationship; how they acted around each other, what others thought of them, might help in her quest.  

 

her eyes drifted towards the pile of polaroids on the table. her mom had a penchant for taking photos, adamant that they were the only way to capture memories. her own bedroom wall is filled with polaroids, and she makes sure to look at it often, so that she doesn’t forget those cherished moments.

 

she stands, wandering over to the pile. she starts to sort them into smaller piles: with friends, with members, and with irene. the irene pile was on par with the friends pile - her first hint. the second most featured member was wendy.

 

now, she knows aunt wendy was her mom’s best friend. but she’d always wondered if anything had ever happened between them, and a long, long time ago, when she had more thoughts than sense, she’d asked them outright. all she got was a beet-red seulgi, a scandalised irene, and aunt wendy laughing, shaking her head fondly as she ruffled sumin’s hair.

 

maybe she’d investigate that. she puts the thought away, pushing the other two piles to the side, then spreading her moms’ polaroids out. some are clearly older, taking on that semi-overexposed hue that came with time. she can see the brightness that came with youth, irene’s cheek pressed against seulgi’s shoulder as they smiled for the camera. another is a mirror selfie, clearly in the practice room, both of them hanging at odd angles from black chairs, waving at the mirror. 

 

but the most important one seems more recent. it’s at a pier or riverside somewhere, both of their hair dark (maybe during psycho? she doesn’t really keep track of their hair colours, to be honest). what strikes her is their poses and expressions. irene is known to be clingy, sure, but she was big on boundaries. she knew seulgi had mostly gotten used to it over the decades, but there were still instances where touch made her uncomfortable.

 

they’re sat on a bench, irene draped on top of seulgi like a cat. she cuddles into her side, eyes and face scrunched up contently. what makes her breath catch in is the way seulgi looks down at her. it’s fond, yes, but there’s a comfort and warmth there that sumin has only ever seen her mom direct towards her and her ma. like she would be willing to do anything for her.

 

(“you know,” her ma blurts out as they sit on the couch, watching a rerun of some show her ma liked, “your mom’s slow, but she’s not stupid.”

 

sumin turns to her, head tilted, “aren’t those the same thing?”

 

irene just tuts, still watching the screen, “don’t be so mean to your mom. as I was saying. your mom might take a while to put the pieces together, but you’ll know the moment she realises.”

 

“how?”

 

“kang sumin! come here right now!”

 

her ma finally turns to her, eyes sparkling, “like that.”)

 

she’s so lost in her thoughts she almost misses the soft knock at the door. she takes the polaroid and shoves it in her pants, pushing the rest back into the pile. she leans against the desk, clearing .

 

“yes?”

 

the door opens marginally, and she sees irene’s face poke out, eyes wide.

 

“can I come in?” she almost needs to strain to hear her speak. 

 

“of course!” sumin backs away from the desk, walking backwards till the back of her legs hits the bed, and she plops down.

 

the door widens then, and irene slips inside, closing the door shut against her. she stays pressed against the door, like she’s intent on keeping as much distance between them as possible. sumin sighs inwardly. she forgets how shy her ma can get with strangers.

 

“I don’t bite, y’know?” she tosses out, sporting the cheekiest grin she can muster.

 

irene softens a bit at that, posture slacking a little, “I never said you did.”

 

“you look like a rabbit that’s about to be eaten by a wolf.”

 

her brows furrow, and her lower lip juts out at that, “are you always like this?”

 

“depends on what you mean by this.”

 

“mean. and snarky.”

 

“aww, did I hurt your feelings? I’m sorry.” she bows mockingly.

 

irene sighs through her nose, finally approaching. she sits on the other side of the bed, leaving a meter’s distance between them, “if it weren’t for your face, I’d say you were sooyoung and yerim’s kid.”

 

“they did babysit me pretty often. maybe that’s why.”

 

“note: ask wendy to babysit you more, sooyoung and yerim less.”

 

she rolls her eyes at that, “I doubt that’ll help, but alright.”

 

irene stares at her reproachfully, “I came to check if you were okay, and since you’re throwing quips like no one’s business, I think you’re fine.”

 

she starts to get up, but sumin stretches over, hand covering irene’s.

 

“wait, wait. I’m sorry. I get like this when I’m nervous.”

 

irene (joohyun? ma?) stares down at their hands, face unreadable, “this is you nervous?”

 

she lets out a nervous chuckle, tempted to pull away as she feels her hands start to sweat, “fake it till you make it, right?”

 

“uh huh.” she stares a little longer, then pulls away her hand. sumin keeps her hand there, staring as she can’t help feel she’s failed some kind of test.

 

“look, kid. I don’t know what seulgi told you, but. we’re not your parents. we’re just young adults who are, one day, going to become your parents.” irene clasps her hands in her lap; her tell for when she wants to fidget, “I just want to make sure you understand you can’t come in here and expect us to be anything like them.”

 

sumin just nods jerkily, throat closing up, “not my parents.” she croaks, “got it.”

 

irene looks up, alarm clouding her features. she scoots closer, pushing sumin’s hand to her side.

 

“hey, no, that’s not what I meant,” she coos, eyes soft with worry, “what I mean is that…” her hand reaches up, hovering beside sumin’s head. she pretends not to notice when it closes up into a fist, dropping to her side.

 

irene sighs, “what I mean is… we’re not going to be as good as your parents are with you. your mom and I aren’t together.” her tongue stumbles over ‘together’, and sumin watches the leader’s face close up marginally, a crinkle forming between her brows, “I just want to warn you that what you expect won’t be what you get.”

 

it.

 

“you do want to be together, though. don’t you?” 

 

irene’s eyes go cold, the warmth seeping out of her expression immediately.

 

“that’s not important.” her voice pitches down, final in its warning.

 

sumin scoffs, “what is, then? I’m living proof that you do.”

 

irene’s head tilts, and sumin gulps. it’s calculating, deliberate. it’s the expression she sees when her ma analyses someone, looks into their soul, and eviscerates them.

 

“there are different timelines, aren’t there? maybe this is one where we don’t.” her tone is feather-light, deceptive in its carelessness, “maybe you have to come in every timeline to make sure we get together. and this is the one where you fail. that is what you came here to do, isn’t it?”

 

sumin can only stare, stomach sinking at the blankness of the face before her. irene smooths down her pants, getting up daintily. she turns, eyes flat.

 

“don’t presume that just because you know some future version of me, that you know me. every waking second I spend is with a mask, tailored for the person in front of me. and if you think that it’s true, you’re a fool. the thing I hate the most is when people assume.”

 

sumin finds her voice, somehow, “that’s a lonely way to live.”

 

irene pauses, façade breaking slightly, “maybe. but it’s one way to survive.”

 

“someone told me life should be more than just surviving.”

 

irene’s head tilts again, but this time, it’s more thoughtful as she watches sumin, “who told you that?”

 

“you.”

 

irene pauses… then nods, chuckling softly under her breath.

 

“goodnight, sumin.”

 

she’s reached the door when sumin speaks up again.

 

“irene?”

 

she stops, but doesn’t turn.

 

sumin’s nails dig into her skin as she clenches her fists, taking a deep breath before continuing.

 

“I’m going to try and get to know you. masks and all.”

 

irene leaves without replying. but as the door closes, sumin sees the hint of a smile before the door clicks.