When Xuanyi hears Fu Jing say “I have to walk down this road alone,” she can’t help herself as she mouths No, Jing, I’m still here, I’ll always be here. Next to her, many of the girls are in tears. Her own eyes are dry; it doesn’t take as much willpower as it used to. She has a lot of practice in holding back tears.

She’ll let them out later, when she says a private goodbye to Fu Jing. This one here is to their fans and, in a way, to themselves, saying goodbye to Rocket Girls’ XXX and starting the frightening road to becoming their own person, without a label to take shelter behind. Labels can be restricting, certainly, but they can be comforting too. For the past two years, they’ve had the label of Rocket Girls 101, the nation’s girl group, affixed to them. In many ways, it’s become part of their identity, and even though they knew this identity came with a deadline, would they really shed it just because the clock has finally ticked down to this day?

Xuanyi stays steady and composed through her own goodbye speech. It’s not as emotional as she had wanted, perhaps, but really her emotions are too complex to put into words anyway and there are already more than enough tears all around. There was no way that such an occasion would be a dry-eyed one, but still, she hopes that she can leave a smile behind as she trades the pyramid for her new flower road. She’s always wanted smiles to be a part of her legacy.

Goodbye, Rocket Girls’ Wu Xuanyi. She bids a silent farewell. Hello, Wu Xuanyi.

Fu Jing succumbs to tears again when they’re alone. Xuanyi’s emerge as well, and this time she lets them fall. She doesn’t know whether it’s her who reaches for Fu Jing or the other way around, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that they’re in each other’s arms. Fu Jing feels even thinner than usual (although she would say that Xuanyi is one to talk); Xuanyi easily wraps her arms all the way around her waist.

Jingjing. My Jingjing. She doesn’t realize she’s saying the word out loud until Fu Jing huffs out a breath like a laugh against her cheek. “You know, I used to not like that nickname.”

Xuanyi raises her head. “You didn’t? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Fu Jing scratches the back of her head sheepishly. “Well, it kind of made me feel like a kid because only my older relatives used it. But then—well, it grew on me.” Her eyes flit away slightly, shy. “I like the way you call me that.”

Oh. A wave of affection rolls through Xuanyi, peaking in her chest. “You’ve never told me that before.”

“It seemed weird to bring it up out of the blue. Besides, I figured that you knew. You’re good at that.”

Xuanyi blinks. “At?”

“Knowing me,” Fu Jing says, letting her head drop against Xuanyi’s shoulder. Xuanyi’s hand comes up to her hair, a second nature action. Fu Jing’s voice is quieter when she speaks. “That’s not going to change, is it?”

Xuanyi’s hand stills. “What do you mean?”

Fu Jing keeps her head buried against Xuanyi’s shoulder, like she’s taking refuge there. Or like she’s hiding. “I don’t want things to change.” She in a breath; it sounds watery. “I mean, I know they have to, of course, but… I don’t want them to.” She sounds plaintive, lost, like a child yearning for something that can never return. Instinctively, Xuanyi’s arms tighten around her. “I’m scared, Xuanyi,” she says quietly, like she had onstage and yet completely different.

Xuanyi presses her cheek against Fu Jing’s hair. “I am too,” she admits. “It’s okay to be scared.”

Fu Jing mumbles something so quietly that Xuanyi doesn’t hear her, but she catches something that sounds like “lose you” at the end. She can imagine the beginning of that sentence; she’s felt that way herself far too many times.

“Ah, all I’ve done is cry,” Fu Jing says, her tone suddenly lighter as she raises her head and dabs at her eyes. “Good thing I took off my makeup. I’d look like a raccoon if I still had my mascara on.”

“You can cry,” Xuanyi says softly. “You don’t need to hold back.”

“You are,” Fu Jing says.

Xuanyi’s brow furrows. “What?”

“You haven’t cried. Not onstage and not with the girls just now.”

“My tear ducts are overworked and on a break right now,” Xuanyi jokes.

Fu Jing doesn’t go along with it and just keeps staring at her. “I know you, Xiaoxuan,” she says, and Xuanyi wants to answer, of course you do. The knowing isn’t just one-way between them. “You do have tears and you’re going to cry. Later, when you’re alone.”

Xuanyi falters. It’s not an accusation, per se, but it’s not an even statement either. “That’s just…how I am.”

“I know,” Fu Jing says quietly. “It’s just—” She exhales. “I wish I could be there for you.”

“You are here for me,” Xuanyi says, eyebrows pulling together. “You’ve always been here for me.”

“But I feel like…” Fu Jing trails off and lowers her eyes.

“What is it?” Xuanyi asks, but Fu Jing remains silent. “Jingjing? You can tell me.”

“It’s going to sound dumb.”

“Don’t worry, I’m used to that coming from you.”

Fu Jing’s head shoots up and she gives Xuanyi a fiery scowl that subsides into a wounded pout. Xuanyi just smiles back. “You can tell me,” she repeats, coaxing.

Fu Jing’s expression sobers. “You’re always there for me and you comfort me and make me feel better”—Xuanyi feels that crest of warmth again. Of course, she wants to say, you’re my Jingjing—“but I feel like I don’t do the same for you.”

What?

And Xuanyi finds herself saying the word. “What?”

“I told you it was dumb,” Fu Jing mutters.

“It’s not dumb,” Xuanyi says automatically. “It’s just… Don’t you know how important you are to me?”

Pink sweeps across Fu Jing’s face. They made a great choice designating that her colour; it suits her beautifully. “I do,” she says quietly, “but that’s not the same thing. I just feel like…like I can’t be there for you the way you are for me. And I’m not trying to make it into a competition or anything! I just—I wish I could.” She gives Xuanyi a look through her lashes, and it reminds Xuanyi of the way Fu Jing had snuck glances at her throughout the show and then quickly looked away, like she was afraid Xuanyi would see her. Somehow, she always seemed to miss when Xuanyi stared at her.

“I’m sorry,” Xuanyi says.

Fu Jing sighs. “I knew you’d be like that. Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have said anything, it’s dumb. Just forget it.”

“It’s not dumb,” Xuanyi repeats. “I’m sorry if I made you feel inadequate. You know that…as lame as it sounds, it’s not you, it’s me, right?”

“You’re right,” Fu Jing says. “That’s really lame.”

Xuanyi smiles a little before her expression turns more solemn. “I’ve always been like this. Even as a kid. I just… I need to process things alone, to come to my own terms with them. Whenever I had something to deal with, I got used to resolving it on my own. I knew I could count on myself. That I had to, because at the end of the day, I only had myself.”

Fu Jing swallows. “Xuanyi—”

“Things started to change.” Xuanyi is the one to lower her eyes this time. “I got put into a group in Korea and I learned to rely on other people…but then I had to leave them. And I was put into a show where some people admired me and some people judged me and some people smiled at me while hoping for me to fail. And I did fail. But I got up again and I made it into a group, another group, and I relearned to rely on other people but then I have to leave them too. I guess at this point I just expect to have to leave or get left behind. That’s the life we signed up for, isn’t it?”

She looks at Fu Jing, whose eyes have filled with tears. Xuanyi wants to reach out and wipe them away, but she knows that if she does she’ll lose the resolve to finish what she’s saying.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I know I should open up more. I want to, but it’s a work in progress. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t trust you or I don’t want to come to you. If there’s one person I want with me, it’s you.” She gives a smile with a hint of playfulness. “You know that you’re my one pick.”

Fu Jing just stares at her for a long moment, eyes bright with more than tears, and then she opens her arms and Xuanyi unhesitatingly sinks into the embrace. This time, Fu Jing her hair and Xuanyi buries her head against Fu Jing’s shoulder.

Here, in Fu Jing’s arms, she feels moored. Safe. Home.

“I was one of those people,” Fu Jing says an undeterminable amount of time later.

“Hmm?”

“One of those people who admired you. I mean, it’s hardly a secret I was your number one fangirl on the show.” She doesn’t sound the slightest bit abashed about it; in fact, she sounds proud.

Xuanyi can’t help a smile. “You’re not my number one fangirl now?” she teases.

“Of course I am,” Fu Jing says without missing a beat. “But I mean, at the beginning I was a fan of Idol Wu Xuanyi. The one with a smile that made her the nation’s first crush and legs that made her the nation’s first—”

Xuanyi clears . Her face is warm. “And now?”

Fu Jing looks at her with a cheeky grin. She knows exactly what she’s doing. Then the grin softens into a smile. “Now, I still admire you. As in, you, Xuanyi, who is way too into face masks and can’t keep her room clean and consumes more milk tea than should be humanly possible and gives her smiles for other people and saves her tears for herself.” Her voice has become gentler, more tender. “If anything, I admire you more than ever.”

Xuanyi clears , her face warm for another reason. “I can so keep my room clean,” she says with a scowl, and Fu Jing grins.

“Sure you can,” she says. “It’s okay, wifey, I don’t mind cleaning up after you.”

“Thanks, hubby,” Xuanyi deadpans, putting a sarcastic emphasis on the word, but Fu Jing just preens.

“Always happy to take care of my beautiful wife,” she says, planting an exaggerated, smacking kiss on Xuanyi’s cheek. Xuanyi pretends to be grossed out and wipe it off, but that just makes the sparkle in Fu Jing’s eyes brighter.

“You do, you know,” Xuanyi says softly. “Take care of me. More than you think.”

“I know you prefer to do the taking care of.”

“You know me,” Xuanyi says, and it’s as intimate as an I love you.

“I do,” Fu Jing says, “and you know me.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Jing,” Xuanyi says seriously. “We’re not going to lose each other.”

“Oh, you heard me,” Fu Jing says sheepishly. “I was hoping you didn’t. Or maybe I hoped you did.” Her expression clears, fills with resolve. “I know that now. I mean, I knew it then too, I just… Well, you know, it’s easier to doubt than it is to believe.”

Yes, Xuanyi does know. She’s very familiar with doubts. Except—

“Do you believe in me?” she asks, at the same time as Fu Jing says, “You’re an exception, Xuanyi.”

They both stop and just stare at each other.

“You know I believe in you,” Fu Jing says steadily. “In us.” She releases a breath. “I’m still scared though. Of the future. It’s just so…”

“Uncertain.”

“Yes,” Fu Jing says. “These two years, even though they’ve had a lot of surprises, there was a routine to it all. A constant. And now everything’s a variable.”

“Not everything,” Xuanyi says, and Fu Jing smiles.

“No, not everything,” she agrees.

“It scares me too. The future. But I’m also excited for it. I don’t want to leave behind Rocket Girls, but I’m excited for Rule-Breaking Girls. I’m scared to say goodbye to Rocket Girls’ Wu Xuanyi, but I’m excited to find out what’s in store for Wu Xuanyi.”

“Hi, Wu Xuanyi,” Fu Jing says, holding out her hand. “I’m Fu Jing.”

“Hi,” Xuanyi returns, taking her hand. “I’m very excited to meet you.”

“I am too,” Fu Jing says with a serious expression. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are you single?”

Xuanyi’s mouth falls open and she succumbs to her instinctive reaction: hitting Fu Jing.

“Ow,” Fu Jing says loudly, rubbing her arm. “Couldn’t hitting me be one of the things you leave behind?”

“No, take it or leave it,” Xuanyi tells her.

Fu Jing sighs dramatically. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make this sacrifice. You’re lucky I’m totally gone for you.”

“I know I am,” Xuanyi says, and Fu Jing smiles.