After every high, there was a terrible low – from the top of the world to the depths of the earth. It was awfully easy to get lost in the high, which made the crash down the ever more painful.

Jennie crashed from the height every time – all bruises, scratches, and broken bones. By this point, she should’ve seen it coming and cherished the high for just a little longer. Just a little longer, even if the ricochet of guilt grew tenfold. It couldn’t be helped. Again and again – that small taste of high – because as long as she bore it alone, as long as no one crashed with her, then it was okay. It was okay because, either within only her or not, the world would keep spinning and time would keep moving, so it’s best to choose the less destructive path for the better of everyone.

Or so she thought.

“Miss Kim?”

The middle aged man’s bushy eyebrows stitched together, a champagne glass in his hand and a nice, smooth gray suit. Although brushed and slicked, a stray white strand of his dyed dark hair flopped to the side when he tilted his head. Amused, a chuckle climbed up Jennie’s throat before dissipating just as quickly when her father cleared his throat beside her.

“Jennie,” her father said, a stern voice with an undertone of threat. “Mister Park was talking about investing stocks into our company. What do you think about that?”

Cocking an eyebrow, Jennie made a show of judging the man up and down from his spotless, leather shoes to the poor attempt of masking his gray, balding hair, much like the many other Misters at this party. She sipped her champagne and nodded curtly. “I suppose it doesn’t hurt. That’s very kind of you.”

Sarcasm naturally dripped in her words and demeanor. It couldn’t be helped. How else would she entertain herself at these boring parties? She took another sip to hide her smirk when Mister Park’s eye twitched, the steam whistling through his flared nostrils with a bruised ego.

“I heard that your son is enlisting in the military soon,” said Mister Park, an edge to his tone. “He’s a very fine gentleman.”

Her father nodded, chuckling along with the false image among many false images of their family. “Yes. We’re very proud of him.”

That was news to Jennie, having been so caught up in her own life problems that Taehyung’s enlistment passed over her head. Now that she thought about it, when was the last time since she talked to him? Other than at social gatherings? Not that they talked a lot in the first place, though.

“I’m sure it would’ve been better for Taehyung to inherit the company. Men, obviously, are a lot more rational than women, and better business leaders. What a shame for a fine man to not pursue his father’s role.”

First, she bit her tongue – hard. Then, she clenched her teeth. Then, she pinched her thigh, taking a few deep breaths, all of which were done in a matter of seconds. But the smugness of his smile was excruciatingly irking and, again, there was a lot that couldn’t be helped, like her short temper.

“You’re right, it is quite a shame.” Jennie twirled her tall glass in a nonchalant manner. “But yet, here we are – a woman inheriting a company bigger than what your name will ever be – and yet, here you are, trying to gain money from said company. The world is quite unfair like that, I suppose – Mister Park.” She curtly added honorifics at the end, topping it off with a saccharine smile.

From the way his bushy eyebrows arched, they could’ve been mistaken as caterpillars. His thin lips gaped open and closed dumbly, completely speechless as Jennie sipped her drink unbothered, a comment to pluck his eyebrows too enticing to say, but her father was faster.

“She’s just joking,” her father chuckled, eye twitching and a strained smile. “She jokes like that. She has a very odd sense of humor that doesn’t resonate with everyone.”

A brief moment of tense silence ensued before Mister Park barked out a hearty laugh, nearby guests jumping at the sound. “Of course! That was funny, Miss Kim.”

Anyone could’ve seen it from a mile away, the way her father’s face was taut, eyes icy, demeanor stiff and passive aggressive. Either everyone chose to ignore it, were too scared to say anything, or both. Nonetheless, it hung in the atmosphere for the rest of the party and Jennie was frightened out of her wits – enough to regret retorting back to Mister Park, although he deserved it. Twenty four years and it made sense to have learned how to prepare and brace herself at this point, but she was still scared; one of many things that couldn’t be helped, and it was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.

And when he spoke that impending verdict, it had been a while since her legs shook so bad.

“Jennie. In my study. Now.”

The party was over, the last few guests leaving with fake smiles, hugs, and wishes. Her father’s sharp heels echoed, menacing and stark within the marble walls, to his study at the left wing of the mansion. Every click jabbed Jennie’s head with bursts of pierces – to the point her trembling hands couldn’t support her shaky legs on the mahogany stand any longer – and she succumbed to slumping against the wall, hugging her knees and breathing slowly in an attempt to stifle the shakes. In and out, in and out, slowly.

It’ll all be over soon. Just get it over with. Just get through until tomorrow.

“Miss Jennie?”

Through the curtain of hair, Joohyun was crouched to her level with a wet towel and an apron, concern etched in her frown. “Are you okay?”

Jennie grimaced a smile that was more of pursed lips. “Yes. I need to meet with my father.”

Joohyun’s eyes were apologetic, but much like Jennie, the older girl knew it couldn’t be helped, and simply patted her shoulder. “Remember to breathe,” she whispered before leaving with a bow.

Right, get a hold of yourself, Jennie. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Traipsing, her inhales and exhales resonated down the hallway, ghosting the pattern of her father’s steps. Although the hallway spun and distorted from its parallel structure, breathing was the only thing keeping her head upright against the rattle of every fiber in her body. The wing was eerily quiet when she reached the dark oak door of the study, its height as louring as what laid behind it.

You can do it.

Every word Jennie told herself became less convincing, and all of them unraveled and fell apart once the golden knob was turned.

Her father stood tall in front of his desk, broad back turned as he spun the thick, gold rings on his fingers. She closed the door behind her and hung her head down.

“Father.”

A brief, thick silence was present momentarily before he turned around, face unreadable and stance towering. He deeply inhaled, the sigh drawn out, a forewarn that sent shivers.

“What is wrong with you these days?” he said, tone dangerously low.

Jennie winced, the pounding of her heart expediting, and the simple act of standing and breathing became harder with each heavy second. In, out, in, out, in –

“Do you want to die? Are you out of your mind? How dare you speak so disrespectfully to Mister Park. You’ve been disrespectful at every party, to every one of those gentlemen. How dare you.”

In, out, in, out –

“Do you think that, because I named you my heir, you could be all pretentious? Don’t flatter yourself. It was you or your brother, and your brother is as competent as a beggar. If Taehyung was better, then I wouldn’t hesitate to throw you out of this household from the amount of times you’ve disappointed me.”

In, out, in –

“You should be grateful I even put up with you. I wouldn’t be wasting my time with this wedding or networking just for you to throw it all out of the window. For an adult, your mannerisms are one of a child. Useless, useless, useless.”

In, out –

“It was useless to hire Kim Jisoo to write this biography of you. The whole point is to fix your image, but you’re messing everything up because you simply can’t wrap around your head the basic mannerisms you should show adults. What a useless daughter. Should I even call you my daughter? ing useless! Waste of food, waste of money, waste of space, waste of a ing life. All you had to do was stand and smile, but you couldn’t even do just that.”

In –

“Do you need to be threatened again? You think you’re so untouchable, is that how it is? Like those years ago with that friend? You seriously want to play that game?”

Jennie’s heart stopped. He remembers… but doesn’t know her…?

“Because I won’t hesitate to do so because you need to be humbled and reminded of who got you this far. You wouldn’t even survive on the streets if I had thrown you out. Behave yourself or else. Do you understand?”

In –

“Look me in the eyes! Do you understand?”

In – in – in –

Jennie’s chest caved in, and that was when the gold rings met her cheek and stole all the failing breaths. Her father rarely hit her, the last time being seven years ago, because he was careful about her appearance that proportionally affected his reputation. It was smart, really, to verbally abuse her instead to avoid such controversies, but it didn’t make it any less painful when her knees hit the floor and the bullet of a slap scorched her face.

“Understand?”

Understand? Get rid of her and do your duty.

Gasping and sputtering, she blinked profusely from the stinging in her eyes and bit her lip to stifle the cry. The rapid swelling of her cheek was matched with a wetness – red from what dripped on the rug – trickling from the cut of the rings. From the floor and through her tousled hair was her father’s black leather shoes: steel, shiny, sleek.

“I said, do you understand?”

Jennie lowered her head until her forehead kissed the floor and heaved shakily. “Yes, father.”

A pregnant silence followed, save for Jennie’s sobs that she was failing to control. Her father’s shoes were still there, and she was leveled with his shoes, and it was pathetic.

It was pathetic, and it couldn’t be helped.

She couldn’t help being pathetic.

“Make sure Joohyun takes care of that before the next gathering. I don’t want anyone else seeing it.”

With that, her father strode out the room, leaving Jennie crumpled on the floor of his study. Her nails clawed the thin hairs of the rug – too thin to grasp – as her erratic breathing exponentiated, huge gulps of air expelled by her constricting lungs and matched with the angry pulses resonating from her cheek to her entire body.

Get rid of her, or I’ll do it myself.

“Miss Jennie, are you okay?”

Joohyun’s gentle voice carried through the pounding as she knelt down beside Jennie. The wet towel was long discarded when Jennie grasped for Joohyun’s shirt, her fist slipping from hysteria, only for the latter to catch it to keep her balanced.

No, Joohyun. It hurts. It hurts so bad. Her lips ghosted the words, her chords too frail and chest too agonized to speak, but it was enough for the older girl to drape her arms around Jennie’s trembling body. Burying herself into Joohyun’s embrace, Jennie heaved in the detergent of her linen shirt as Joohyun her hair, resting her chin on her head and faintly vibrating a lullaby.

“I’m sorry,” mumbled Jennie under her breath – not to herself, and not particularly to Joohyun who deserved all the sorrys profusely tumbling out of Jennie’s mouth – because, among the many things she couldn’t help, it was Jisoo.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

~

Jisoo never cried.

That’s what she claimed, and it served true for as long as Jennie knew her, which was around eight months (that felt like a lifetime). The only times she’d ever come close to such a thing were the times of severe anxiety, but even then she’s able to hold it in. It was admirable, the way Jisoo could stay so strong with a smile on her face.

So, when Jisoo arrived under the tree with a hooded flannel instead of her school uniform – all teary eyed, shaky breaths, disheveled hair, and a tiny “I need a hug” – it didn’t take much for Jennie to open her arms and for the older girl stumble into her embrace and bury her face into the crook of her neck.

“It’s okay. I got you,” Jennie whispered, running her hand along the girl’s back and her dark hair, gingerly sorting through the knots and tangles.

They stayed like that for a while, with Jennie faintly humming a lullaby and Jisoo’s arms around her waist, hands grasping the hem of her blazer as if she’d collapse if not. A million questions were at the tip of Jennie’s tongue, but her utmost priority was comforting the girl. It didn’t matter if it took all day because Jennie could – would – wait forever for Jisoo.

“I tried to contact them again –” Jisoo choked. “– my parents.” Shaking her head, she released a shaky breath and chuckled bitterly. “Honestly, I don’t know what I expected. What was I hoping for…?”

Jisoo’s head shifted to face Jennie, her fringe veiling her brown eyes that were absent of their usual speckled light. Jennie brushed the bangs aside, tucking stray tendrils behind her ears and pillowing their foreheads together, so close that the latter’s long eyelashes tickled her face as they fluttered.

“You won’t ever leave me, right?” Jisoo asked, voice husky and low, a weak plea.

“Never,” replied Jennie in a heartbeat. It was easy to say, so easy to say, because it was the most absolute truth. “I will never leave you, Jisoo.”

Jisoo hugged Jennie tighter, their bodies puzzle pieces that perfectly fell in place. Jennie’s breath hitched from the intimacy, but the intimacy was not one of fancy, but of the purest love; the purest love when Jennie cupped the girl’s cheeks, noses bumping, as Jisoo gazed deeply with all of it and nothing held back.

That was one of many things about Jisoo – she never held anything back, so upfront about everything that Jennie was afraid – very afraid – when her heart somersaulted and her stomach knotted in complex ways and a warm, tickling sensation rose at the back of her neck and Jisoo’s eyes were so, so captivating.

“Me too,” breathed Jisoo. “I won’t leave you. Even if we’re crashing and burning, I won’t ever give up on you, Jennie.”

~

Joohyun’s makeup worked wonders, the wound barely there at all. Albeit, in a certain light, the angry blotch of purple showed through the foundation, that was only if the spot was scrutinized. It was highly doubtful that anyone would watch Jennie’s face that closely, considering she’d scare them off before they would even dare to.

Winter was looming around the corner, indicated by the substantially colder air. Although Jennie had to layer a jacket over a hoodie, it was more preferred than the heat, and although it wasn’t sunny, she donned a pair of black sunglasses. After all, it was part of her brand, and definitely not to avoid Jisoo noting anything wrong with her (that girl was quite attentive).

Jisoo arrived around noon, holding onto the strap of her satchel slung across her beige cardigan with shoulders squared. The air thickened from the mere sight of her, and when she flashed her pretty smile, it was a kick that knocked the breath out her lungs.

“Good afternoon, Jennie,” said Jisoo.

The girl’s eyes anxiously darted toward the maid beside her. Jennie dismissed the maid with the nudge of her head, noting to talk to the maid later and make sure she no longer made Jisoo uncomfortable for future visits.

“How are you doing today?” Jisoo asked – typical small talk – as they walked down the steps.

“Fine,” Jennie replied curtly, eyes straight ahead as they descended the neighborhood. Jisoo seemed to be anticipating more from the way her gaze lingered, trying to meet the eyes hidden behind shades, but when Jennie stayed mum, she nodded knowingly and fished out a notepad from her pocket.

“Today, I was thinking of doing something more engaging instead of just sitting around and talking.” She waved the notepad. “What do you think about volunteering?”

Volunteering? She hadn’t volunteered since high school; truly volunteering, since the times after that were ingenuine for the sake of family reputation and newspapers. She shrugged, which Jisoo probably took as an okay from the way she nodded.

“There’s an elderly home that’s always open to volunteers. According to the flyer, they’re looking for people to help with events and brighten up the elders' days, like playing with them and stuff. It’s in the suburbs, so we’d have to take a taxi. Does that sound alright to you?”

A pause, a shrug, and nothing else was exchanged after that.

~

The suburbs were much flatter than the city, and a whole lot greener. The short, slanted roof houses with nicely kept lawns rolled by as the taxi cruised along the smooth pavement. The elderly home was bigger than the rest of its neighbors, with a lawn of cobbled paths, plants, and a beautiful metal archway decorated with flowers and vines. It was out of a fairytale, and took quite a resemblance to a cottage in the woods.

A middle-aged lady – dark hair tied in a bun and casually fashioning a blouse and trousers – greeted them upon the doorbell.

“How kind of you to volunteer with us,” the lady said after they exchanged bows and greetings. “You can call me Miss Son. Not many young people come to volunteer with us nowadays. We appreciate the extra help.”

“Of course,” chimed Jisoo.

As Miss Son led them through the house, there were grandmas and grandpas alike playing board games, watching television, chatting by the tables, or idling by the arts and crafts lined on the shelves. If Jisoo hadn’t pulled her aside, Jennie would’ve crashed into a passing grandma in the midst of her reverie. Jennie was thankful, but Jisoo’s touch burned even through the two layers, so she quickly muttered a thanks and jerked away, much to the latter’s confusion.

“For today, we’re preparing for the small party we hold every month,” explained MIss Son, sliding the screen door open to the back porch and garden. Much like the front, the garden was littered with plants and cobbled paths, and a pond with a statue of a fish spouting water in the middle. Beside the wooden platform of the porch was a circled pavement, a few people – a teenage girl and some middle-aged people – chatting, crouched and hunched over big, red bowls of cabbage, vegetables, and chili paste. “Are you fine getting your hands a little dirty?”

“Yes. Right, Jennie?” Jisoo turned to Jennie who responded with a small nod.

Miss Son handed them plastic gloves. “We’re in the process of making kimchi. Let’s get some ingredients and meet everyone in the middle.”

At the steps of the platform were crates of ingredients wrapped in plastic that were amazingly stacked a few inches over Jennie’s height (not that she was that tall). How much kimchi could old people possibly consume?

“Try to get many of each because we’re making big batches.” Before Miss Son could reach for a crate, a yell within the house diverted their attention to the paned window that displayed a grandma flailing her arms at a grandpa. “Sorry, excuse me!” She piped, hastily bounding toward the door. “They’re always fighting over games. If you need any help, feel free to call the other volunteers.”

Once Miss Son disappeared behind the screen door, Jisoo puffed, cracking her neck and knuckles dramatically. “Looks like it’s time for some heavy duty work. You think you can handle it?” she chuckled, elbowing Jennie playfully.

“I think I can manage,” Jennie said meekly as Jisoo tiptoed to reach the top crate. Shouldn’t I be the one getting the top boxes since she’s shorter? Jennie wondered as Jisoo heaved the box into her open arms.

“I think two boxes each will be enough, and we’ll return if we need more.”

“Alright – ah!” As Jennie inattentively carried the second crate onto the first, her stray finger was caught in between, prompting her to jerk her hand away with a yelp.

“Are you okay?” Jisoo exclaimed, dropping the crate in her hand and rushing to Jennie’s side. “What happened?” She reached for Jennie’s hand, but hesitated just as Jennie jolted away.

“Yeah,” Jennie grimaced. “It’s nothing, I just pinched myself.” Removing her shades, she pocketed them with a sigh. “I think these shades are making me sleepy. They’re very tinted and I must’ve spaced out.”

With eyebrows stitched, Jisoo stared at her. Not directly at her, more so a little below her eye. It wasn’t until Jisoo’s hand neared her cheek that Jennie realized what she’d been staring at, and shrunk away from her touch.

Jisoo worried her lip, hand faltering, and whispered, “Who did this to you?”

Jennie avoided her gaze and shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

Anger flared in her eyes, but before she could say anymore, a patter of footsteps and a peppy greeting broke the tension as they diverted toward the newcomer.

“Hello!” the teenager chirped with a bow so low her ponytail flung itself over her head. “Do you need any help?”

Jennie raised her eyebrows and glanced at Jisoo. Jisoo’s frown lingered on her bruised cheek momentarily before her expression softened as she addressed the younger girl, “Hello! Yes, we could do with some help. Thank you.”

“I’m Yuna,” the girl said as she picked up two boxes – much to Jennie’s amazement – while Jennie and Jisoo carried the rest. “What school do you guys go to?”

Jisoo chuckled as they placed the boxes down at the circle. “Actually, we graduated already. I’m Jisoo, and she’s Jennie.”

Yuna’s jaw dropped and she bowed frantically, her hair flying all over the place. “I’m so sorry! You look so young, so I thought…”

“It’s alright.” Jisoo waved her hands reassuringly. “We get that a lot. Especially Jennie. I mean – look at her. She looks like a child.”

Jennie strained a smile, glaring at Jisoo and her innocent, toothless grin. “Yep. Way too many times.”

Yuna laughed, setting two bowls and plastic stools in front of them. “Do you know how to make kimchi?”

“Not really. I’ve always bought from the market.” Jisoo rubbed her neck sheepishly. “Neither has Jennie.”

“That’s okay. Lucky for you, I am an expert on kimchi,” Yuna beamed, rummaging through the crates. “We’ve prepared the cabbage and paste yesterday, so all we really need to do is add them together...”

Yuna demonstrated with her own bowl she carried over, Jisoo watching attentively with nods and hums as the younger girl explained the procedure as if she’d ever done that in her high school classes. It was simple from the looks of it: massage the cabbage with the paste, the only setback being the huge amount of cabbage and the possibility of sore arms tomorrow.

“Any questions?” asked Yuna.

“I think we got it. Thank you so much,” Jisoo smiled.

“No problem. If you ever need help, there’s seven other people here to help!” With that, Yuna took her leave.

“Do you want to tie your hair up?” Jisoo asked as Jennie slipped on the gloves.

“I didn’t bring a hair tie.”

“I brought an extra one just in case – oh, I can tie your hair up for you,” Jisoo insisted when Jennie made to remove her gloves.

“It’s fine. I can do it myself.”

“No, really. Keep your gloves on.” Before Jennie could retort, Jisoo stepped behind her and delicately her tresses. Jennie’s breath hitched as ginger fingers collected the strands into a bunch, brushing the tips of her ears and the nape of her neck that made her hairs stand on end. Add that to the list of things Jennie couldn’t help: succumbing to Jisoo’s touch.

“Is that okay?” asked Jisoo, peeking her head to appraise Jennie’s front.

“Yeah,” Jennie mumbled, dipping her head and quickly sitting down on the stool. “Thanks.”

Although Jisoo definitely wanted to say more – about her cheek or her coolness, Jennie wasn’t sure – but thankfully, the girl took the hint and settled in front of her own bowl of kimchi. Jennie should be grateful that Jisoo didn’t pursue the conversation, but a strange sense of disappointment stirred in her chest, considering Jisoo wasn’t one to give up such a matter.

That’s how they met, after all: from Jisoo’s stubbornness. So, as confusing as it was, Jennie was hoping for Jisoo to be stubborn again, only to be let down as the older girl worked on her batch of kimchi and made conversation with the other volunteers whose names flew through one ear and out the other.

What did you expect? Along with her frustrations, Jennie’s massage intensified on the poor cabbages. You really can’t help it, huh? Pushing her away again when it’s not her fault.

Time passed rather quickly for just massaging vegetables and chili paste together. Littered in that span of time were a few questions from Jisoo regarding the biography, such as “what is community to you?” or “how do you help the community?”

Typical, empty questions that were answered with typical, empty answers.

Other than that, no other words were exchanged between them, and when it was time to gather all the kimchi together to ferment, Jennie’s frustrations only grew, banging against the lid of the boiling pot that was her emotions.

“Let me help,” Jisoo said, hands brushing the back of Jennie’s as she dropped the bowl after her fifth attempt of lifting it.

“I got it,” Jennie gritted and prepared another attempt as she crouched.

“Seriously, you look like you’re about to collapse.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m done carrying mine over, so let me just –”

Did Jennie mention that her short temper couldn’t be helped? The lid popped right off and everything spilled before Jennie could stop it.

“Why do you want to help me so much?” she snapped, evoking Jisoo to wince and retract her hands. “Why are you so nice?”

“I just –”

“Do you like me or something? Why are you so nice? I’ve done nothing but wrong to you. I can’t even –” Jennie swallowed thickly. Say sorry. “Why aren’t you hating me? Why?”

Jisoo frowned, confusion and hurt in her pout. “Jennie, stop yelling. You’re making a scene.”

The other volunteers that were shuffling with their bowls of kimchi, even passing elderly, dwindled in their tracks to watch the scene unravel. Jennie dipped her head to the ground, clenching and unclenching her fists. “I really can’t help it, huh? I can’t help being the problem.”

“What are you talking about?” Sighing heavily, Jisoo pinched the bridge of her nose. “Stop talking nonsense and let’s get this kimchi to the rest.”

When Jisoo crouched down to seize the bowl, Jennie shoved her hands away. “No, I can do it.”

“Jennie, just let me help you,” Jisoo seethed through her teeth, apprehensive eyes darting between Jennie and the bystanders who returned to their business, trying their best to ignore the scene. “It’s seriously not a big deal.”

“It is.”

“It is?”

“Yes, it’s a big deal,” croaked Jennie. “A very big deal.”

Jisoo closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, before peeling off her gloves. She threw the people an apologetic bow and grabbed Jennie’s wrist, not seeming to care if some kimchi from Jennie’s gloves got on her cuff. “We need to talk.”

The stares stuck on them until they rounded a corner of a shed, far from the crowd and concealed by the big plants. Once they were out of eye and ear shot, Jisoo released her grip and crossed her arms, face taut. “Why are you acting like this?”

Jisoo’s exasperated sigh clawed Jennie’s heart with guilt, but to be fair, Jennie was just as exasperated, if not more. Everything from the past week was catching up to her and she was about to burst.

“Because I don’t understand. I honestly don’t understand why you’re back, why you’re so kind, why you don’t hate me. It’s frustrating. It really is.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” Jisoo ran her fingers through her hair. “We’re volunteering for heaven’s sake. It’s not really the time for this conversation, don’t you think? Why is finding a reason so important?”

“It’s important to me because –“ You’re important to me, and everytime I think about you, everytime I’m around you, it’s hard to breathe. “– it doesn’t make sense.”

“Do you want an answer? Will that help snap you out of this bull?”

Jennie stayed silent, prompting Jisoo to continue.

“Sometimes I want to hate you, but I can’t because I know you did nothing wrong. Because we were children back then, so naive to believe dreams so impossible and promises so fragile and easy to break. So that’s why I can’t hate you because we were just children. I can’t hate you then, and I can’t hate you now. I can’t hate you ever, and I don’t hate you at all. I know and understand why you had to do it, so stop sulking like a damn child and let me help you goddamn it!”

“You’re stupid.”

“What?”

It came out a mumble, but Jennie repeated it slightly louder, “You’re so stupid.” Peeling off her gloves, Jennie’s fist feebly hit Jisoo’s chest. “Why do you do it if it hurts you, too? I know it hurts you. It’s written all over you, Kim Jisoo, because you’re so easy to read. It hurts you and that’s what I don’t understand. Why, why, why?”

Jisoo’s offence demeanor faltered to one of defense and confusion, eyebrows furrowed as she gulped and fumbled, “Because – because –”

“Because?”

“I – I don’t want to give up on you.”

Silence, save for their heavy breaths and the faint chirping of birds and music from the house’s radio. Jennie’s fist fell to her side as she backed up against the shed, her knees giving away as she slid down the paneled wood, resting her forehead on the heel of her palm. A pause was followed by tentative shuffling and Jisoo mutely sat beside her, elbows resting on her propped knees and head rested against the shed.

“Nothing will change if you keep doing this,” muttered Jisoo.

“Doing what?”

“Blaming yourself. No one is blaming you other than yourself.”

You would’ve, Jisoo. You should’ve, but you never were the one to hold grudges.

Fiddling with her fingers – squeezing, scratching, picking – Jennie sighed, “I can’t help it, not when I walked away from you like that – broken and vulnerable and all – and looked you straight in the eye and broke my promise. Everytime I see you, it’s all I think about, and it’s killing me.”

“And that’s why I forgive you.”

Jennie turned to Jisoo and Jisoo turned to her. “What?”

“You know. You know what you did, so that’s why I forgive you.”

Jennie chuckled. “You throw the word forgive around so easily. You’re so forgiving, Jisoo. You forgive so easily, but I know you want to walk away. You should because there’s nothing you can do because we’re two measly girls in a restrictive society and we can’t do . We can’t do , so let’s just live our lives peacefully away from each other.”

Jisoo shook her head. “You’re right, but I don’t think I can. I thought I could, but I couldn’t when it’s so suffocating, when the world spins and time flows and I’m still stuck. Everything is moving, but I’m still stuck.”

A cool breeze picked up, wafting through the plants in a languid, mocking dance. The plants were dancing and Jennie and Jisoo were suffocating in their own limbo.

“Then, what now?” Jennie mumbled. “Between then until now, until this very conversation, nothing changed. Everything is moving just the same. What’s the point?”

“A wise person told me this, that although someone was born unlucky, they shouldn’t let that dictate their entire life. With enough willpower, they can make something of themselves – work around it and break free. All they have to do is be strong and try.”

Her heart was so heavy. It was too heavy to carry any longer, so Jennie closed her eyes and it fell. It fell from the top of the world to the depths of hell.

“I’m not as strong as you think.”

A pause.

“I guess that makes two of us.”

A knowing silence enveloped them, the breeze long gone and plants long slowed into their usual static position, but the music still played and the clouds still rolled. The world was spinning, time was flowing, Jisoo was stuck, and Jennie was going in circles.

~

As a gift of appreciation, Miss Son gave them each a tupperware of kimchi with a neat bow on top. Wordlessly, they took a taxi to Jennie’s mansion, the sun having disappeared into an early dusk.

“I don’t need the kimchi,” said Jennie upon arriving at the iron gate. “Here, share it with Chaeyoung.”

Jisoo graciously accepted the kimchi. “Thank you. Let’s – let’s just get this biography done, alright?”

With a tiny nod, Jennie meant to walk away at that instant, but when Jisoo’s soft hands caressed her cheek, she didn’t flinch nor pull away. Unlike earlier, the touch didn’t hurt; it was simply warm – warm against the cold temperature, endearingly warm against Jennie’s aching chest and stinging eyes.

“Make sure to get some ointment on that,” Jisoo murmured. “Makeup isn’t enough to cover that up.”

Jennie stared at the back of Jisoo’s head until it disappeared around the corner, and even then, she stayed rooted on the spot, palm on her cheek where Jisoo’s warmth subsided until it was gone and cold again.

Then, she entered through the iron gates.

~

Jennie’s parents were on a business trip, so Jennie ecstatically took this opportunity to sneak to Jisoo’s house (courtesy of Joohyun for covering for her). In her school bag was makeup she “borrowed” from her mom’s drawer, a bunch of products she could get her tiny hands on and stuff into her bag. Did she know what she picked out? Not necessarily, but she no doubt had the essentials.

“Can I practice makeup on you?” Jennie timidly asked, clutching her bag by the top that rattled with the various tools. “Joohyun had always done my makeup, so I wanted to try it.”

Jisoo chuckled nervously as they sat on her bed, bringing her legs up in a criss cross with mismatched colored socks. “I’ve never dressed up before, much less tried makeup.”

Mirroring the latter’s criss cross position from across, Jennie fished out the makeup in handfuls and carefully laid them out on the linen sheets. “That’s okay,” said Jennie as she picked up a familiar product, foundation, and held the bottle against Jisoo’s skin. It was a tad lighter than her shade unfortunately, but it wasn’t like she had many options when “borrowing” from her mom. Beggars can’t be choosers, so they say. “First time for everything.”

Jisoo squared her shoulders as Jennie dabbed the brush into the powder, tapping the excess off with excessive focus, and edged closer to the older girl until their knees bumped.

Poising the brush on Jisoo’s cheek, Jennie used the back of her free hand to tuck aside her bangs. “You have very clear skin.”

A bashful smile played on Jisoo’s lips as she leaned in slightly, flicking her locks over her shoulder and eyes fluttering shut. “Thanks, I try. Should I put my hair up?”

“No, I like you with your hair down.”

“Not like that, silly. To help you put on the makeup.”

Jennie froze, her pinky pinning a few strands of tendrils aside and the brush hovered over Jisoo’s nose. The older girl was peering through the small cracks of her eyelids, corners of her lips curled into a subtle smirk.

“It’s fine. I can manage.” Jennie cleared and refocused on brushing along her tall nose bridge. Maybe if she ignored the heat in her cheeks, it wouldn’t give away her flusterness, but it didn’t help when Jisoo’s unwavering gaze twinkled.

“You like me with my hair down?”

“Hey, don’t take it too deep. You just have really nice hair.”

“Whatever you say.”

Jennie glared – all play, of course – that seemed to amuse Jisoo more than scare her, much to her dismay. She angled back to appraise her work, brushing a few patchy spots on her chin before nodding in satisfaction.

“The foundation is a little lighter, since your skin is pretty tan,” Jennie said as she faced a hand mirror to Jisoo. “What do you think?”

Jisoo’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh wow, it’s super light. I look like a ghost.”

“Is it bad?”

“No! It’s not bad. It’s good.” She waved her hands and laughed. “I just never – I’m probably the last person to ask about makeup. I think it’s good.”

“True.” Ears burning, Jennie placed down the mirror to rummage for another tool, not entirely sure what she was searching for in the midst of her turmoil, until her fingers wrapped around an eyeliner pencil.

“Jendeuk, I’m serious. It’s good. You’re doing a great job so far!”

Jennie pouted, but her heart warmed with appreciation. “Says the person that just said she’d be the last person to talk about makeup.”

“Are my words not as valuable as a makeup expert?” Jisoo palmed her chest in faux hurt. “Must I get a professional makeup degree to make you believe me?”

Jennie smiled in response and lifted the pencil. “This is eyeliner. I have to apply it close to your eyes. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” said Jisoo, but when Jennie neared with the tip, she backed away and eyed her suspiciously. “You won’t poke my eye out, right?”

Jennie’s head fell back in laughter. “If you make me mad.”

Which was false, because she’d never hurt Jisoo, and unlikely, because Jisoo never made her mad.

Jisoo debated for a moment before leaning in again. “I trust you, makeup artist Jennie Kim.”

Jennie’s hands were incredibly steady, the heel of her palm gently pressed on the older girl’s cheek and working from the inner corner of the eye. Jisoo shifted without warning and she immediately paused, afraid to draw astray and possibly poke her eye.

“Stop moving, Jisoo.”

“I can’t help it. Your breathing tickles me.”

The comment prompted a realization of how close their faces were – so close Jennie could count her eyelashes – and Jennie leaned away with yet another pair of burning ears. At this rate, they’d be scorched red by the end of the day.

Jisoo smiled and stretched her arms, yawning. “And my back hurts. Sitting on a desk all day is so tiring. Can I lay down?”

“Would that help you stay still?”

“I think so because I’m laying. I’ll take full responsibility if I can’t.”

“Alright.” Jennie scooted over to her side as Jisoo settled her head on the pillow. “You’re such an old grandma.”

“To be fair, anyone who sits at a desk for more than half a day would –”

“Shush. You’re moving too much.”

Jisoo pouted, but obediently zipped her lips. Jennie was amused, to say the least. Her position was uncomfortable, having to crane to apply the eyeliner, so she adjusted herself: laying on her stomach, feet up, setting her elbows on either side of Jisoo’s head, and resting slightly on the girl’s chest. It alleviated pressure on her back and she moved her hair over her shoulder before continuing on the eyeliner.

“You’re very pretty, Jennie.”

Jennie’s head snapped to the side to choke before swiveling back to an amused Jisoo. “Huh?”

“You’re pretty.” Jisoo enunciated every syllable. “Have you had a boyfriend yet? Or a girlfriend. Tomayto tomahto.”

Jennie’s face was crazy hot, enough to substitute the house’s heater. She stiffened any form of expression that could give away her panic – the only thing she couldn’t stiffen being her one-hundred-miles-per-hour palpitating heart that hopefully Jisoo wouldn’t feel or hear – and returned to the right eye, shaking her head. “Nope.”

“Sixteen, looking like that, and haven’t had your first kiss? That’s surprising.”

“Well – boys do like me. They asked me out, but I didn’t like them.”

“Even the handsome ones?”

“Even the handsome ones. Those were the most cocky, though.”

“What’s your ideal type?”

Inching away, Jennie appraised the eyeliner work. The wing was sharp, but not too thick nor too thin. It complimented Jisoo's doe eyes well – subtle, yet accentuated her natural beauty.

“My ideal type?” Jennie mumbled, turning attention to the left eye. “I guess a nice personality.”

“That’s so vague. Tell me more.”

“I never had a real crush, so I don’t know.”

“Really? It could be anything, like anything that makes them more appealing – or tolerable, in your case. Just a little goes a long way.”

Jennie flicked the tip of the pencil as she shaped the wing. “Uhm, someone who's passionate, I suppose. Passionate and devoted to what they do, hardworking, all of that. I really like that.”

“y or cute?”

“What kind of question is this?”

“It’s a typical question girls ask each other.”

Jennie rubbed her neck and chuckled in disbelief. Was she really having this conversation with Jisoo right now? “To be honest… y.”

Jisoo’s laughter erupted, eyes upturned and Jennie jerked the pencil tip away to avoid skewing her work. “Wow! I didn’t expect that from you.”

Jennie punched her shoulder, frantically waving her heated face. “Hey! Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not, I swear! You’re the one who's making a big deal out of it.”

Rolling her eyes, Jennie poised the pencil above Jisoo’s eye and deadpanned, “I’ll poke your eye out.”

“Ah! No, please.”

Lighthearted chuckles ceased into comfortable silence as Jennie alternated between the two eyes to fix unevenness and disproportionality. The smile never left Jisoo’s lips.

“Anything else?” Jisoo mumbled in an attempt to stay as still as possible.

“Uhm, a funny person.”

“Someone that makes you laugh?”

“Yeah. Someone that makes me laugh without trying. They could do anything, or say anything, and it’d just be the funniest thing ever. A bit like –”

Jennie paused, throat catching the last word before it slipped, and locked with Jisoo’s curious gaze, searching her without showing forthright. From the soft glow of the bedside lamp, her dilated, brown eyes simmered – enough for the twinkling specks, but not enough to entirely boil over – and the air of the small gap between them heavied with such indescribable thickness that Jennie had to wet her lips out of sheer nervousness.

“Like?”

Shaking her head, Jennie retreated, sitting back up and away from Jisoo’s face, and rummaged for another tool. “I don’t know.”

A hint of disappointment showed in Jisoo’s frown, but it was washed away just as quickly with a smile. “Can I see your work so far?”

“I’ll show you when I’m finished. I think it’ll look a lot better when I’m done with everything.”

“Okay.” Jisoo sat up as Jennie picked a tube of lipstick. “I expect to look like a y goddess.”

“You are –” Jennie began unconsciously as she uncapped the lipstick, but frowned at the choice of words. “You’re expecting a lot from a first timer.”

“Because I have full belief in you.”

Jennie smiled softly and hovered the tip of the lipstick above Jisoo’s rosy lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s my middle –”

“Shush, you’re moving too much again.”

Jennie meticulously traced the outline of Jisoo’s lips that resembled much of a heart. Unlike the eyeliner and foundation, her hands shook with the lipstick; either because Jisoo’s lips were her most favorite feature, or all the flusterness from before was accumulating into a big boulder crashing into her heart. Jisoo’s lips were parted, breaths just as light as Jennie’s and the thumb grazing over her plump bottom lip unknowingly. Much like Jennie, her thumb couldn’t remove itself from her lips, and when Jennie trailed up from her lips, to her nose, to her alluring eyes, the world stopped.

The world stopped and it was only Jisoo; honestly, truly, completely, absolutely, always Jisoo.

With two fingers, Jisoo skimmed over Jennie’s thumb, pressing the tips on her own lips and placed them on Jennie’s, a gesture that was a domino effect from her lips, to her head, to her heart, to her whole being. It all crashed, but it all clicked, and everything made sense.

But Jennie didn’t want to ruin anything. She truly didn’t, but she had a streak of ruining things, and this was no exception because those damned words tumbled out anyway, and there was no way that she could take it back. She couldn’t take it back because it was written in the stars of her heart, so it tumbled.

“I think I like you.”