“You’re going to have to pay rent somehow,” Chaeyoung said, tossing an apron to Jennie that flew past clumsy hands onto her face. “So, you’re going to be my assistant.”

It was early in the morning, just a little after seven. Usually, Jennie wouldn’t have woken up this early, but yesterday left her restless. From the disaster that was that morning to bringing Jisoo to the doctor’s (Chaeyoung piggybacked her, since she was much stronger), sleep came tough with all the constant worries. Jisoo’s injuries were so severe she couldn’t walk with or without crutches, so the doctor — along with assigning casts — prescribed a wheelchair they had to rent, much to Chaeyoung’s dismay. On top of that, the wheelchair was too big to navigate in the apartment, so it bummed Jisoo that she had to be confined to either her bed or the couch. Jennie and Chaeyoung had tried to cheer her up, but all attempts ultimately failed. Jisoo’s small smile, probably to make them feel better for trying, displayed a dampened mood in all ways possible.

So, Jennie got out of bed a little earlier than usual (quietly enough to not stir Jisoo) to grab a glass of water. That’s when she bumped into Chaeyoung who had freshened up, fashioning a turtleneck sweater and skinny jeans. Ah, there you are, Chaeyoung said. I was just thinking about you.

That wasn’t in an endearing way because Chaeyoung dragged her downstairs to the café, and now Jennie had an apron on over Jisoo’s knit sweater and a silver tray held uncertainly to her chest.

What about Jisoo? Jennie had asked. What if she wakes up and no one is there to help her?

Don’t worry, Chaeyoung had assured. She usually wakes up around the afternoon. You’ll be done by then.

Hopefully that was true because Jennie couldn’t help but worry otherwise.

“It’ll be easy,” Chaeyoung strode behind the counter, deftly grabbing packages and working the machines that woke with soft, rumbling hums. “You’re just going to serve things, and this place doesn’t get too busy. Not as busy as a restaurant at least, where you’d speed from the kitchen to like five tables. You can manage that alright?”

“Yes.” Jennie bobbed her head, clutching the tray tighter and squaring her shoulders. “I can do it.”

Chaeyoung quirked her brow as she poured coffee beans into the machine. “Okay. Tie your hair up. The first customer usually comes around eight or so, which is probably in about a few minutes. He’s a college student.”

“You know your customers well?”

“Yeah.” She smiled warmly. “It’s easy to get to know them. They’re really nice.”

“You seem to really like your job,” Jennie commented, the tray set on the counter to tie her hair up into a low bun.

Chaeyoung clipped close the bean bag, pressed a button on the machine, and leaned against the edge of the countertop as it whirred, crossing her arms and humming in ponder. “You can say that.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not like I hate it; I do like it. But,” Chaeyoung pursed her lips, “it wasn’t my first choice. I wouldn’t have imagined I’d run a café to make a living.” She squinted her eyes at Jennie, as if contemplating whether to continue. Jennie tilted her head, hands folded to display her undivided attention.

“Okay, well, my parents used to own this.” She gestured around. “My sister and I liked hanging out here a lot; one of our favorite places to do homework and all. I had really good memories here, so when my parents wanted to retire and sell it, it was a little devastating. My sister already committed to law, and I was halfway through college. So, I stepped up to keep it running, switched to a business major, and they moved to the quieter areas of Gangnam. In those suburbs.”

“What were you studying in college, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Chaeyoung shook her head and smiled, musing a fond memory. “Music.”

Jennie’s eyebrows shot up. “You play?”

“Not anymore. I haven’t touched my guitar in a long time. Or sang for that matter — seriously sing, not like in the shower.” The machine emitted a soft ding, and Chaeyoung turned around to pour the content into a mug.

“I think you should revisit it.”

“You think?” Chaeyoung asked with surprise, but the corners of her lips curled as she reached over the counter to tune the radio.

“Yes.” Jennie nodded firmly. Chaeyoung had stopped turning the knob at a particular channel, one playing a soft orchestra. “It could be a side thing. Maybe you can perform in this café once in a while. I would like to hear it. I’m sure your customers would, too. I like listening to live music. Sometimes the business parties I go to hire a band, and it’d help me tolerate the night a little more.”

Chaeyoung slid the mug over the wooden countertop to Jennie. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Is this for me?”

“Yeah. It looked like you needed it.”

Jennie’s heart swelled and her chin dipped, shy with appreciation. The mug looked handmade, the brim a tad lumpy, the handle awkward, and two roses etched into the porcelain. Eccentric, but in a good, sentimental way. “Where’d you get this cup?”

“Jisoo made it.”

“She crafts?”

Chaeyoung laughed softly. “God, no. There was this pottery place that opened a few years ago, and we figured to head down there for fun and make some stuff. The teacher was really kind — really pretty, too. Anyway, we made each other some things — Jisoo made me that mug and I made Jisoo a cactus with a beanie. Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen it in a while; not even on her desk. I hope she didn’t lose it, or else I’ll be mad. It looked a lot better than this mug.”

“I think this mug is pretty,” Jennie admitted quietly and took a sip of the coffee that was incredibly tasty. Perhaps Chaeyoung was a mind reader, but for coffee, because the flavor hit the right spot and Jennie didn’t even tell her how she liked her coffee.

“You’re only saying that because now you know Jisoo made it.”

“Anyway, you can be honest with me — unless you haven’t been the past minutes we’ve been talking.”

Chaeyoung chuckled heartily before dropping her gaze to the floor. “Honestly, I’m insecure about my voice. That’s also why I haven’t picked music back up.”

Jennie gasped, “Your voice is so good!”

“Even when I’m yelling at you?”

“Hm, maybe not then.”

“I’m just pulling your leg,” Chaeyoung quipped, her lips tugging into a smile. “Keep this up and I might feel guilty for being so mean to you.”

“You weren’t being mean. You were being reasonable.”

“Keep going… But finish your coffee before it gets cold.”

The shop bell jingled and — almost simultaneously — Chaeyoung’s face lit up. Who’d had the power to do that? Not even Jisoo had that effect on the girl.

“Hi, Lisa!”

The said girl looked familiar, waltzing in with a pep in her step and a big smile. She adorned a bucket hat and a large hoodie, her curly, ash-grey hair bouncing when she landed next to Jennie. The approach was startling, a little too close for comfort, prompting Jennie to take a quick step away.

“Hey, Chaeyoung!” Lisa turned to Jennie, her eyes widening and flitting between her face and the apron. “And… Jennie Kim?”

Jennie raised her palm awkwardly. “Hello.”

Lisa briefly glanced at Chaeyoung who looked unsure of what to say, choosing to assess her nails instead. “Sorry, I should introduce myself. I’m Lalisa Manoban, but you can call me Lisa.”

“Oh! That,” Jennie racked her brain, “supermodel. You’re the supermodel, right?”

“Yep. I go to some of the parties your family hosts, but we’ve never talked. I’m probably one of the many faces in the crowd, huh?”

“No, uh,” Jennie said hastily, “I do see you. You’re pretty tall, so you stick out. Your hair color, too. Like a beacon.”

Lisa laughed. “I’m honored that you know me somewhat. Anyway, are you… working?”

“Yes?” Jennie answered hesitantly, regarding Chaeyoung who widened her eyes in subtle communication. “I — someone told me about this café, and I thought it’d be nice to check it out. And I happen to also want to help around. Chaeyoung is kind enough to let me volunteer here, in a way.”

“It’s Kim Jisoo, huh?”

“What?” Jennie squeaked and coughed, “About Kim Jisoo?”

“She told me about this place,” Lisa elaborated. “At one of your parties — the one that you announced your wedding. Chaeyoung is so easy to talk to, right? I wouldn’t have thought we’d get to know each other so quickly.”

“Ah, yes,” Jennie nodded with an awkward chuckle, Chaeyoung relaxing with one of her own. “Kim Jisoo did. She’s the one writing my biography.”

“I see,” Lisa bobbed her head in satisfaction. “Nice to meet you. Honestly, people talk around that you have a trunk up your , but you’re pretty cool.”

Lisa raised her hand, but Jennie’s head whipped away so fast it was a miracle she didn’t get whiplash. In just a second or two, her nerves eased upon the realization that Lisa had her hand raised for a high five and not for anything malicious.

“Uh, thanks.” Jennie strained a smile that’d hopefully clear up Lisa’s bewildered expression and Chaeyoung’s concern, and politely tapped Lisa’s bigger palm. “I know people talk. After a while, it means nothing.”

It took a beat for Lisa to recover from her confusion and wave it off. “That’s good. I guess we’re both not strangers to gossip. People really can’t mind their own business.”

All their attention averted to the other jingle of the shop bell. A tall, dark-haired boy walked in, fashioning a black overcoat over denim attire. He was fixated on the newspaper in his hands, pushing up his thin, silver frames up his nose bridge. He spared them a shy smile and a small bow before shouldering his backpack and making his way to a booth near the window with the tiny, hanging potted plants.

“That’s our first customer, Yeonjun.” Chaeyoung poured the pot of coffee into a mug she fished from the rack. “Remember what I trained you. Jennie.”

“You didn’t train me that much —”
 

“Shoo shoo now.” Chaeyoung placed the mug on the tray after meticulously measuring and adding sugar and cream. “Be careful with the cup. It might burn your pretty princess hands.”

“Thank you very much for the pointer,” Jennie reciprocated Chaeyoung’s smugness — much to her amusement — and took the tray.

The boy, Yeonjun, was still engrossed in his newspaper when Jennie arrived. It was only until the tray was placed on the table that he looked up from the article, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Ah, thank you,” he hummed with a small nod as Jennie gingerly moved the mug onto the table. With no scalding spills, she handled it pretty well, and she was sure to tell Chaeyoung of her success. “Are you a new worker?”

“Just temporary,” Jennie answered, flashing an awkward smile. Talking to strangers wasn’t her forte, but Yeonjun seemed kind so far, and Chaeyoung did say the customers were nice.

“Oh, I see. Miss Park works alone, so I was a little surprised to see a new face. Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy your drink.”

Jennie collected the tray, but the newspaper piqued her interest enough to do a double take. Thankfully, and strangely, it wasn’t YG Times. The company title was a tad hard to read because it was upside down, but what was more intriguing was the front photo, framing the back of many heads and signs in front of a brick building of windows and hedges.

“Do you want to read this?” Yeonjun asked, snapping Jennie out of her concentration in trying to decipher the article from above.

“Oh, uh —” Jennie’s cheeks burned from getting caught. Her mind screamed to retreat, but her curiosity got the best of her. “No, but can I ask what it’s about?” she queried timidly.

“Of course.” Yeonjun slid the coffee aside and smoothened the newspaper on the wood, adjusting it to give Jennie a full view of the front page. “Right now there’s several riots regarding our government about democracy, since they want to suppress anybody who challenged them. What kind of democracy is that, if they refuse to listen to the people? Most are organized by university students and they take place on the campuses.” He tapped on the photo. “This picture is of Yonsei University.”

“Is it happening at your university, too?”

“Yes. I’m planning to participate in one that’s set for this week.”

“You’re very brave. Are you… afraid? Even just a little?”

“No,” he said within a heartbeat. “It’s my future — all our futures — so I want to help the best way I can. It’s a little like now or never. If not now, when? The momentum is gaining, so I believe we can change our country.” He smiled. “I’ll have friends by my side, too. With them, I can take on anything.”

That determination, where had she seen it before? Determination in such young eyes, either a sign of naiveness or actual resoluteness. That flare — Jisoo had that a lot, too. Whether it’d be a goal or a promise she made to Jennie, that flare drove her to fulfill it. But what was Jennie doing, still scared of her parents when this boy was fighting for his future? She should be fighting, too. Her eyes strayed from the words to the top, the publishing company now easier to read.

“Pledis Post?”

“Have you heard of it before?”

“Not really.”

Yeonjun gave a knowing nod. “I understand. They’re a small company, but they have great journalism skills and are very trustworthy. I do wonder what they’ll do to cover this up though, since this paper is garnering attention.”

“Who covers what up?”

Yeonjun took a sip of his coffee, humming from the taste. “The government always goes out their way to cover stuff like this up because it makes them look bad. I mean, who wants to look bad? Especially in the public eye? This is a headline and all over the newspaper racks. This was actually one of the last few I managed to pick up on my way here. Usually, they get a big company to create a scandal because people love gossip; companies like YG Times. You know them at least, right?”

The words were a tad incoherent now. A queasiness in Jennie’s stomach made swallowing difficult. Clammy hands threatened to drop the tray if it weren’t for Yeonjun waving his hand in front of her face, drawing her back from the vertigo.

“Hello? Are you okay?” he asked, frowning. “You’re pale.”

Jennie shook her head and blinked several times to ward off the queasiness, which worked to some degree. “Sorry, I spaced out. Do they really do that?”

“Well, that’s what’s been theorized, and it’d been true so far.” He paused. “It’d be a shame to be the person they use to cover this up. You’d have the students angered that their voices have been silenced and the general public gossiping about you at the same time. That’s just how scandals go.”

“Okay, thank you. I’ll be going now. Enjoy your coffee again.”

That last part was unnecessary, but her social skills weren’t Jennie’s main concern at the moment. Her legs were wobbly when she arrived at the counter, in time for Chaeyoung to laugh at something Lisa had said and punch her shoulder. The tray clattered on the countertop, catching the two’s attention.

“Was the job too hard?” Chaeyoung jested, playful mood ebbing when Jennie wordlessly stared off into the distance. “Jennie?”

“It wasn’t hard, but,” Jennie frowned, “I don’t feel well. Can I — can I rest for a little? I’ll come back to work, but I just need a breather.”

Chaeyoung faltered, exchanging glances with an equally as confused and concerned Lisa. “Of course. I was joking about you having to work here.” She rubbed the nape of her neck. “I wanted to get to know you a little better, to be honest.”

“Ah.” Jennie smiled softly at the heartwarming confession and untied her apron. “Thank you, Chaeyoung. Nice to meet you, Lisa. I’ll head up to check on Jisoo.”

“Tell her I’m picking up the crutches today!”

~

What Jennie expected when stepping into the apartment was the morning’s stillness — not Jisoo, in her wheelchair, stuck between the doorframe of her bedroom.

“Hey,” Jisoo exclaimed, freezing in her predicament with a sheepish smile. “I could really use some help here.”

In all her disheveled hair and pajama fashion, Jisoo was the breather. A breath of air so fresh that all the worries dispeled for a moment and smiling came easy when Jennie sauntered over.

“I thought we established that the wheelchair is too big to move around in here,” Jennie sighed, resting her palms on the armrests and hovering over Jisoo.

“In my defense, when I woke up, no one was here to help me.” Jisoo pouted and rubbed her tummy. “I still need to eat, you know.”

“Chaeyoung said you wake up in the afternoon, and it’s pretty early. How did you even unfold this on your own?”

“I dragged my on the floor to get it. Now hurry and get me out, I’m starving.”

“Alright alright, hold on.” Jennie braced herself and pushed the wheelchair with a grunt. It didn’t budge. “You’re better off dragging your around on the floor than this.”

“Noted for next time.”

“Should we call Chaeyoung to help?” Jennie huffed, swiping her forehead with the back of her hand after the second attempt of using her whole body and pushing off the wall with her feet. “I think she’d be a lot stronger than me — wait…”

“What?”

“We could just get you off and fold it.”

For a beat, they stared at each other in disbelief before Jisoo threw her head back in laughter. “Oh my god, who would’ve thought.”

Once Jisoo was on the floor, Jennie tucked away the wheelchair. With that done, Jennie, hands on her hips, regarded Jisoo’s childish demeanor and big eyes with underlying fondness.

“To the bathroom?” Jennie figured.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, up you go,” Jennie grunted with Jisoo’s arm slung over her shoulders. “I might grow some muscles by the time you heal.”

“Just say I’m heavy. I won’t take offense.”

Contrary to her eye roll, the corners of Jennie’s lips curled up as they wobble into the bathroom. Going in was as difficult as it was the first time. Once Jisoo was seated on the toilet lid, Jennie went to retrieve a chair from the kitchen for Jisoo to brush her teeth on. But it was without ease because, in her hastiness, the wooden leg banged into the wall (and much to their relief, didn’t leave a hole). The sink level was just enough for Jisoo to reach, the girl washing up while Jennie waited patiently on the toilet lid.

“I need to cut my hair,” Jisoo commented, back straightened as much as possible to look at the mirror that barely reflected the top of her head. “My bangs are too long. They’re too long that they tickle my eyes, but too short to tuck behind my ears.”

“Do you have shears? I’ll cut it for you,” Jennie offered, peering over to assess Jisoo’s hair length and tenderly brush her fingers through the tresses and to tame the small cowlick at the back.

“I do,” Jisoo beamed, opening the cabinet. “They’re in here. Oh, they’re on the top shelf…”

“That’s alright. Let’s do it after you eat. Although, I’ve never cut someone’s hair before.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything fancy; just a small trim. You can at least cut straight, right?”

“Yes?”

Jisoo chuckled. “The worst thing you can do is make me bald. I think you’ll do great.”

Lunch was the next thing on the to-do list, but the packet of instant ramen was strange in Jennie’s hands while she perused the instructions on the back.

“Don’t overthink it, Jen,” Jisoo assured from the kitchen table, her chin propped on her palm. “Boil water first.”

“Right, right.” Jennie furrowed her eyebrows and grabbed a pot of water, uncertain hands working the knobs of the stove. “You turn it this way, right?”

“Wait, Jennie, that’s too much —”

The flame leapt, almost searing Jennie’s eyebrows off. Jennie yelped and frantically twisted the knob the other way to distinguish the flame, stumbling backward into the island and clutching her chest with heavy breaths.

“First time making ramen, and you almost burn the apartment down,” Jisoo quipped.

“I don’t know how to use this,” Jennie grumbled defensively and tried again with more caution and distance, demonstrated by a classic wide stance away.

“Turn it to the second mark — you see those white lines around the turning thing? To the second one. That should be enough to boil water.”

“Okay,” Jennie drawled once the flame was at the right level and the water began to bubble and steam. “Now I add the noodles?”

“Yep. You should add two packs.”

“Why two?” Jennie asked while carefully submerging the noodle block under the water with chopsticks.

“Why else? I eat a lot.”

“But it’s too much, don’t you think?”

“Don’t worry, just add a second.”

Jennie threw Jisoo a skeptical look, but grabbed a second packet from the cupboard regardless when the girl shot a cheeky grin.

“Then I stir?”

“Yes. Make sure to add the powder, too. Then, put the lid on.”

“Did you want an egg? Like how Chaeyoung did it? I can’t really do those extra toppings though...”

Jisoo contemplated for a moment with a tilted head. “No, it’s fine. Just noodles are the best noodles. Drain it, too.”

There was nothing extraordinary about Jennie’s ramen. It looked plain and it smelled plain. But Jisoo seemed content nonetheless, her eyes twinkling and crescent when the pot was placed in front of her.

“It looks delicious,” Jisoo exclaimed, fanning the smell to her nose after removing the lid as Jennie put away the rags she used to carry the pot over.

“Really?” Jennie asked dubiously and took the seat across Jisoo. “Either you’re lying to me, or you just really like ramen.”

Jisoo didn’t comment. All she had was this dopey grin that was annoyingly endearing. “Get another pair of chopsticks.”

“What? Why? You already have chopsticks.”

“Just get them.”

“You think because you’re crippled, I am to obey your every command,” Jennie scoffed, but did what was requested. However, when Jennie offered the extra chopsticks to Jisoo, she didn’t take them.

“You haven’t eaten breakfast yet, huh?”

Jennie was taken aback. “I did.”

“What did you eat?”

“Uhm, a banana. From the fruit basket. And a… coffee?” Jennie added as an afterthought, as if it made her defense any better. It didn’t, judging from Jisoo’s squinted eyes.

“That’s something, I guess,” Jisoo concluded. “Now, this pot has a serving for two and we both have chopsticks, so you can eat some lunch with me.”

“So that was what you were planning,” Jennie mused. She would pass, but the ramen began to look more appealing the longer it sat in front of her. “Should I get a bowl?”

Jisoo shook her head and took the lid, balancing it upside down like a plate. “The best way to eat ramen is from the lid.”

“But there’s two of us.”

“Ah.” Upon realizing the issue, Jisoo lowered her chin. “Yeah, get a bowl.”

A soft chuckle hopefully helped Jisoo from the embarrassment. When Jennie returned with a bowl, Jisoo had yet to eat, her reasoning being to wait for Jennie first.

“Where were you this morning?” Jisoo mumbled through a mouthful of noodles.

“Don’t talk while you’re chewing,” Jennie chastised, wrinkling her nose, and Jisoo flashed an apologetic look. “I was working at the café.”

“Was it fun? Was Chaeyoung mean to you?”

“Yes, it was fun. No, Chaeyoung wasn’t mean to me. She’s pretty nice. I also met Lisa. You know her, right? She knows you.”

“I do. Lisa came by today?”

“Yeah.” Jennie pinched some noodles with her chopsticks, raising it high until the last strand of her chunk separated from the rest, and put it in her bowl. “Is she good friends with Chaeyoung?”

“I’d like to think so. Why?”

“It was a surprise seeing her. She’s pretty popular, and I didn’t expect to see her here.”

“She was probably surprised that you were here, too.”

Jennie smiled softly. “Yeah she was.”

“Funny.”

“What’s funny?”

“How life’s like that; crazy and unexpected.” Jisoo plucked a napkin from the box on the side and dabbed . “Hurry and eat, or else it’ll get cold.”

Jennie pouted at Jisoo’s urgency, but the older girl only smiled encouragingly and tapped the brim of the bowl with her chopstick. She wouldn’t have eaten willingly — she didn’t even finish Chaeyoung’s food. But the earnestness in Jisoo’s eyes was hard to resist, and Jennie owed it to her to at least try. So, Jennie scooped a small amount of ramen into and ate.

And Jennie was back at the corner convenience store, drinking soju with Jisoo. Cold and gray, but a warmth radiated from the girl in front of her. Jisoo looked innocent eating, her cheeks chubby and eyes bright as they darted occasionally to Jennie and back to the ramen. The ramen was familiar; it wasn’t soju, but why did it have the same sense? It wasn’t sweet — perhaps foreign, but that wasn’t exactly it either. It took a second bite to pinpoint her finger on it.

Authenticity.

The meal was frank, just like the soju. No fanciness, no gimmicks. There weren’t maids to serve them, or platters of extravagant foods that’d fill families of five. Just Jisoo, Jennie, the ramen, and the sereneness of it all. The occasional slurps, the hums of relish, and Jisoo adding noodles to Jennie’s bowl despite her objecting glare. No words — peaceful, quiet; away from all their problems, away from the world.

They could’ve had this. Those seven years lost — this was what Jennie could’ve been doing instead of those meaningless conversations with her family and those misters and mistresses. Seeing Jisoo, watching Jisoo; with her toothless smile every once in a while, sweeping her bangs to the side whenever they fell in front of her eyes. She was much healthier, the color of her skin returning to its sun-kissed state, and the eye bags less prominent.

Was happiness too much to ask? Because this was happiness. Exactly this. It didn’t have to be sunshines and rainbows because it wasn’t. It was Jisoo and the warmth she brought to Jennie’s heart — so warm it ached, so much that the knot in Jennie’s throat made the third bite hard to swallow, but she forced it down anyway. It soothed the knot to some extent.

Jennie would eat for Jisoo. It wasn’t too much to ask for, and it was the least Jennie could do. The least she could do for everything she couldn’t.

By the time the pot was empty, Jennie had eaten at least ten bites. Jisoo insisted on saving the last portion for her, but Jennie contended that it’d be harder for Jisoo to get more food on her own, thus she should eat her fill. And although it was difficult (ten bites little in comparison to the amount Jisoo ate), it was a start — and Jisoo’s proud smile was more fulfilling than anything.

“So, all you need to do is,” Jisoo held the shears point down to Jennie, “trim my bangs. To the space between my eyes and my eyebrows.”

In the living room, Jisoo sat on the dining chair pulled from the kitchen, wearing a towel over her shoulders and clipped at the back. Jennie took the shears with two fingers, regarding it unconfidently.

“Alright,” Jennie gulped, bending to level with Jisoo’s face. She combed through the wetted hair a few times, the last one brush lingering at the level that seemed about right. “Here?”

“Yes. If it’s no trouble, can you cut at an angle? It shouldn’t be entirely straight — it angles down at the sides. Do you remember my bangs before?

“Oh, yeah. Maybe like this?” Jennie angled the shears downward, adjusting it when the angle was awkward for her hand. “I think like this — Chu, stop looking at me like that. I’m trying my best.

“I’m not judging you. You need to relax.”

“I am relaxed! I just — want to do this well, that’s all.”

“Like I said before, the worst thing you can do is make me bald.” Jisoo closed her eyes pompously, pretty lashes and all. “Work your magic.”

Jennie threw one more incredulous look at Jisoo. Even if the other didn’t see it, she seemed to sense it from the way the corners of her lips tugged. Jennie shook her head, eyes snapping from Jisoo’s lips to the strands nestled between the blades.

It’s not that hard. Jennie’s bottom lip was between her teeth as the shears ghosted along the fringe in practice. It’s easy, it’s easy. Just do it.

Unfortunately, the tendency for her hands to shake was soon discovered. Albeit Jennie’s meticulous focus, the process was painfully slow, the shears snipping what seemed like each individual strand at a time. Thankfully, Jisoo was patient. She didn’t say a word, twitching every now and then from the hairs that tickled her face, which Jennie made sure to swipe off in courtesy.

Midway through the fringe, the front door opened.

“Hey hey!” Chaeyoung chimed, heaving two crutches in one arm. “I brought a gift for you.”

“Hey, Chaeyoung. Thanks,” Jisoo beamed over her shoulder. “Heading somewhere?”

Chaeyoung leaned the crutches against the wall and grabbed her purse from the clothes hanger. “I’m going to eat dinner with Lisa. Sorry for the late notice; she just wanted to, out of the blue.”

“Why are you sorry?” Jisoo chuckled. “Have fun and be safe.”

“You two will be okay?”

“Yep!”

“Alright,” Chaeyoung paused in front of the door, her hand on the doorknob. “Wait, should I wear something nicer? I worked in these clothes.”

“Lisa wouldn’t mind you in those clothes. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, but —” Chaeyoung drummed her fingers on her thigh, fidgeting back and forth between the door and the room. “Isn’t it common courtesy to make an effort?”

Jisoo briefly glanced at Jennie, sending a suggestive message through the quirk of her brows that Jennie couldn’t quite decipher, before returning to Chaeyoung. “Sure, if you want to.”

“You’re right!” Chaeyoung exclaimed, Jisoo’s agreement the final push. “Be right back.”

With that, she whizzed to her bedroom. Jisoo laughed softly and turned back to Jennie. “Are you almost done, Jen?”

Jennie rubbed the nape of her neck sheepishly. “Not really… I’m halfway done.”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

Much to Jennie’s surprise, the haircut was a success. Jennie’s back was sore from bending and her hands cramped from trying to steady her tools, but all of it was worth the smile on Jisoo’s face when she assessed it in the hand mirror.

~

The daytime bled into the evening. The orange rays spilled through the curtains and onto the floorboards and walls. Beautiful, the way the sunlight caught in Jisoo’s dark hair and its few strands that stuck out, and the way the balmy colors traced along the bridge of her nose and the shape of her lips — slightly parted because she was absorbed into the television playing who knew what. It looked like a sitcom, but it wasn’t in Jennie’s interest to comprehend what it was about. Her interest was on the stagnant telephone on the kitchen island.

Yesterday, Joohyun suggested she’d call Jennie every evening because that’s the usual time dinner began and the telephone in the living room would be free to use (the only telephone in the house besides her father’s office). It hadn’t been long — only about half past six — but that didn’t ease the shaking of her foot crossed over the other ankle. Her cheeks were propped by her elbows, her eyes flitting to Jisoo for a sense of comfort.

“You’ve been staring at that phone or a while,” Jisoo said when a commercial break of cereal aired.

“Yeah,” Jennie sighed, running a hand through her hair. “She must be busy.”

With impeccable timing, the telephone rang to life. It hadn’t even finished its first ring before Jennie pressed the receiver to her ear. A few beats of silence passed.

“Miss Jennie?”

“Joohyun,” Jennie sighed in relief, the anxiety ceasing upon the familiar voice. “I was worried you wouldn’t call.”

Small muffles were heard, as if she was moving around. “If you don’t mind, can I call you by something else? So I wouldn’t have to say your name.”

“Like a code name? That’s a good idea.”

“What about… Yeri?”

Yeri? That sounded familiar. “Why Yeri?”

“That’s the name of my stepsister. Anyway, how are you?”

The call was more relaxing than anticipated. Jennie told Joohyun she’s doing well, that she shouldn’t fret about her, and to make sure to take care of herself, too. Joohyun had just finished dusting Taehyung’s room, and the family was eating dinner as they spoke. She insisted on bringing food up for Jennie (that she fed herself with), but they were getting suspicious. Mister Kim was always one to value eating at the table.

“And there’s something coming up that requires your attendance,” Joohyun continued. “I know it’s just the second day, but I don’t know —”

“You should confess I ran away,” Jennie said, cord twirled around her finger. “That I pretended to be sick to make my getaway.”

“Are you joking?”

“No.”

A pause.

“You should know better than anyone the lengths your father will take to find you once he realizes you’re gone.”

Jennie faltered. “Yes, I do, but it’ll save you the trouble of lying. Better to break it to him early instead of getting caught in a lie. It’s your job at stake. I created this problem, I don’t want you to get in trouble for it.”

Joohyun sighed, “I’ll figure something — I have to go now. Bye, Yeri!”

The end of the other line clicked off to the monotonous static. Jennie regarded the receiver quizzically before hanging it up.

“How’s Joohyun?” Jisoo asked when Jennie announced the end of the call by stretching her arms.

“She’s well.” Jennie ambled over to the couch and sunk into the cushions beside Jisoo, shoulder to shoulder. “I told her to tell my family the truth, but I’m not sure if she’ll do it. She got interrupted and had to go.”

Jisoo observed Jennie for a moment before pulling Jennie’s hand to her lap. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Now? It’s night.”

“That’s the best time to watch a movie.”

Jennie cracked a half-hearted smile. Saying no was hard when it came to Jisoo. “Where’s the movies?”

From the box, Jennie picked out a random tape without the bother to read the scribbled title on white strip. She wouldn’t have known what any of these movies were anyway, and Jisoo was satisfied all the same. “One of my favorites,” she had said.

Enjoying the movie was difficult. It only took a moment for Jennie to be left alone with her thoughts that the stress returned. Even snuggling under a blanket with Jisoo, who was hugging a pillow to her chest, couldn’t ward the stress away. There was so much to think about: Jisoo, Joohyun, her father, the unsettling fact that her father would create scandals to sweep things under the rug, and the way it’d been happening right under Jennie’s nose. Maybe if things were different, maybe if Jennie actually liked business and owned up to her father’s expectations, then she would’ve actually been useful to the world for once and help fight that type of corruption.

But Jennie didn’t like business, nor did she meet those expectations. When everything was so against that reality, was it fair to blame herself?

Jisoo had fallen asleep, her breaths light and head leaned back and slightly toward Jennie, enough to show her profile. One look at the girl and Jennie’s worries were dispelled, although it was just for a moment. Would just a moment be enough, though? That’s what they’d been getting by with — one moment after the other. Wordless moments, wordful moments; moments when Jisoo’s smile made time stand still, moments when Jisoo’s touch spurred all those feelings in Jennie’s chest that couldn’t simply be deduced to love.

Or maybe it was love; the simplest, rawest form of love. No flowers, no diamonds, no rings. Just Jisoo’s hand in hers, and Jisoo’s shoulder to lean on.

Were all those enough?

No, there was no use thinking that way. It had to be enough because there was nothing else. If not these moments, what? They were precious, no matter how big or small. All that was needed to do was appreciate the present, and face the future with Jisoo by her side.

Jennie edged closer to Jisoo, prompting some mumbling from the girl still deep in her slumber. The television was mere background, its buzzes and flickering lights doing little to stop Jisoo’s breaths from lulling Jennie to sleep.