A/N. This is a slightly longer update, hope you're enjoying the start of this story, we're close to the (in my opinion) real start.

............................

SEULGI 

“Hey,” he said, by way of greeting, and Seulgi glanced up from her sketch pad to see Sehun looking down at her. “I’ve tried calling you.”

Seulgi looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “I know.”

He lit a cigarette and sat down beside her on the bench. For a long time, neither of them said anything. Sehun seemed content to watch the other students pass by, and Seulgi didn’t know what to tell him.

“How was class?” he said finally.

Seulgi drew in a breath. “Look, Sehun, about the other night—“

“I forgive you,” he said.

“Forgive me?” Seulgi said, stunned. “I’m not apologizing.”

“You totally flew off the handle there, Seul. I think an ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t be out of order.” He flicked his cigarette. “First you embarrass me in front of your family—“

“Wait, wait, how did I embarrass you?”

“You didn’t warn me that the subject of Chanyeol was suddenly taboo. We’re a couple. We’re supposed to tell each other things like, ‘Hey, my stepbrother is a homo now. Don’t go bringing him up at dinner.’” He flicked his cigarette again, and Seulgi watched the ashes fall to the ground. “Guess he wouldn’t have been that interested in the car, after all.”

Seulgi stared at Sehu’s profile, torn between screaming at him and hitting him with her notebook. How was it possible to love and hate someone at the same time? “I meant it when I said we were over,” she said at last. “I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

Sehun looked at her. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“You might think you’re so high and mighty with your little paintings, but what are you going to do with your life, huh, Seul? You break up with me, and who’s going to help you pay for all the stuff you can’t afford on your own? ‘Oh, hey, Sehun, I’m a little short for art supplies, could you spot me?’ or ‘Hey, Sehun, our cable got shut off again’.”

“I have never asked you for money,” Seulgi said, trying to keep her voice even.

“Yeah, but you were all too happy to accept when I offered. And I always offered.” He tossed the cigarette on the ground and turned his body to face her. “I’ve been there for you and your family every step of the way. When Hyunsuk got thrown in jail for whatever stupid stunt he pulled, who put up the bail money, huh? Me. When your parents’ car stalled, who bought them a new battery? Me.”

“They’ve always paid you back,” Seulgi said. “And why do you always make everything about money? You think I’ve stayed with you all of this time because of your money?”

“I’m sure it didn’t hurt.”

“You’re deluded.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I loved you,” Seulgi said softly.

Sehun looked away. “And you don’t anymore. Is that it?” 

“I’m not in love with you anymore, no.”

Sehun nodded slowly. “I guess there’s nothing else for me to say, then.” He stood.

“Wait,” Seulgi said, and dug in her bag for her cell phone. “You should probably have this back.”

Sehun took the object in his hands and stared down at it. After a moment, he swung his arm back and threw the phone against the wall next to them. It shattered into several pieces and scattered across the ground.

Several people stopped to stare in their direction.

“For the record,” he said, “I still love you,” and with that, he walked away.

~*~

JISOO

“So, what did you think?” Kwon Jiyong motioned to the script between them, linking his hands together in expectation.

Jisoo picked up her glass of orange juice and looked at her agent with a look that she hoped didn’t require elaboration.

“I thought you might hate it.” Jiyong sighed. “Well, the good news is I do have something else that just came through. It’s an indie, though it has a pretty good budget. Enough to pay your usual salary, anyway. The director is fairly unknown, though she’s been around for a while. Her name is Jennie Ruby (wink, wink). Heard of her?” When Jisoo shook her head, he continued, “Well, she’s done some television shows, a few low budget pictures, nothing major, but she’s got a few awards under her belt. Sundance loves her.” He dug into his briefcase for the script and dropped it on the table. “She really wants you for the lead.”

Jisoo picked up the stack of papers and glanced at the title. “Summer’s Dance,” she read.

“Only catch is, you’d have to play gay,” Jiyong said with a shrug.

Jisoo put the script down. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, you’ve been begging me for something different for a while, so I’m delivering different. You’d even get to die at the end.”

“Sounds uplifting,” Jisoo muttered. She glanced at the script. She’d passed up many roles in the past for the simple fact that she did not want to play a lesbian character, and yet, here was another one, beckoning. “The lead, huh?”

Jiyong smiled, cheering up. “Oh yeah. Great role, too. I think it’d be a great career move, Jisoo. Get you out of that Guardian rut you’re in. People see you in something like this, maybe it won’t be so hard to get you some of those roles you’ve been lusting after.”

She picked up the script again and flipped through it.

“She highlighted your part,” He said.

“Elizabeth Doyle,” Jisoo read. “Do you know where this is filming?”

“New York,” He said.

Jisoo glanced up at him. “New York?”

“Yeah, they’re filming on location. Where the hell is that waiter?” He looked around. “His tip is going down by the second.”

Jisoo chewed on her bottom lip as she considered the screenplay in her hands. The lead. In New York. I love New York. But a lesbian? “I’ll read it,” she said finally. “When do they need to know by?”

“Sooner the better, I imagine, though they didn’t specify a date. Filming starts in March, I think. I can get you a meeting set up with the director if you want. She sounds like she’ll bend over backwards to get you in this film, and that’s never a bad thing.”

Jisoo smiled. She put the script in her bag and sat back to enjoy the suddenly beautiful day around her. “No, not a bad thing at all.”

~*~

SEULGI

“Wow, maybe for him the really was that good,” and Seulgi looked up from the newspaper she was reading to see Joy entering the kitchen with a large bouquet of red roses.

Seulgi smiled. “Wow, who was the lucky guy?”

Joy placed the flowers on the table and grinned at Seulgi. “Oh, no. These aren’t for me. These, my friend, are for you.” She picked up the card and cleared . “Dearest Seul, I miss all of the mind blowing s you gave me. I especially miss that thing you do with your tongue—“

Seulgi snatched the card from Joy’s hand.

Seul, I’m sorry. Can we talk?

Love, Sehun

“What the hell,” Seulgi said, staring at the words.

“Boy’s got it bad. Who knew?” Joy leaned down to smell the flowers. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he came around here singing, ‘I can change, I can change...’”

“Singing what?”

“From South Park. You know, when Sadaam is trying to win Satan back. In the movie...” Seulgi stared at her blankly.

“Wow. Okay, never mind.” Joy sat down. “But you know, it really is like you’re Satan, all sensitive and stuff, and Sadaam wants to convince you that he’ll do better. He won’t do better, Seul. Trust me.”

“There are so many things wrong with what you just said.” Seulgi shook her head. “Anyway, he can send all the flowers in the world. I’m not taking him back.”

“That’s the spirit. So, what do you want to do tonight? Girls night out? Girls night in?”

Seulgi shrugged. “I’m not really in an out on the town mood,” she said.

“Girls night in it is,” Joy said. “Pick a movie theme: romance, horror, action...”

“Tell you what,” Seulgi said, standing, “I’m going to grab a quick shower and then we’ll go see what’s out.”

“It’s a date.”

~*~

JISOO 

“It’s not a date,” Rosé insisted as quietly as possible while still being audible over Jisoo’s chopping. “She’s a friend. You said it was okay to invite her over.”

Chop. Chop. Chop.

“When did I say that?” Jisoo demanded, sliding the perfectly sliced onions into a pan. She glanced into the living room to make sure Rosé’s ‘friend’ hadn’t heard them and returned to the cooking at hand.

“On the phone,” Rosé prompted, sniffling. She hated onions. “.” Her eyes burned and she wiped a tear away.

Jisoo frowned at her. “Well there’s no sense in crying about it. I’m not going to fire you for bringing her here.” She glanced into the living room again and shook her head. She continued her chopping. “And anyway, when you said ‘friend’ I didn’t really picture her being...”

“What?” Rosé said, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

Jisoo waved her knife around. After a moment, she shrugged. “I don’t know...”

“Gay?”

“No,” Jisoo said firmly. “Well, yes. Actually I hadn’t thought about it. I just didn’t expect someone so...”

“Butch?”

Jisoo shifted uncomfortably.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Rosé studied the actress for a moment.

“No...” Jisoo focused on chopping the rest of the onions. “Of course I don’t.”

“It’s not a date,” Rosé said again. “But... if you’re interested, I’m sure I could talk her into...” She ventured a hopeful smile.

Jisoo held up the knife. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“It’s not like I told her anything about you,” Rosé said quickly holding up her hands. “I just thought... maybe...”

“We’d hit it off and live happily ever after?” Jisoo arched a brow.

“God no.” Rosé laughed. “I don’t think Amber’s been with one person for more than one ... ah... not something I should be telling you.” She coughed. “More like... I thought, maybe you two could—“

“Okay, I think I get the picture. Two things: first, she’s so far from my type it’s not even funny and sec—“

“Really?” 

“Really what?”

“Not your type?” Rosé glanced back at Amber and bit her lip thoughtfully. “I’m usually better at gauging these things.”

“And second,” Jisoo continued, “if you ever try to set me up again, I’ll kill you. Clear? Good. Now go set the table.”

“Yes, Boss.” Rosé went to get the plates and silverware from the cupboard. Items in hand she started toward the dining room table, but paused. “Umm... just for curiosity’s sake, and not at all for future reference... what is your type?”

Jisoo stared at her assistant, and considered tossing a tomato slice at her in reply. Instead, she said, “When I find her, I’ll let you know.”

~.~

SEULGI

Seulgi yawned into the sleeve of her sweater and struggled to keep her eyes open through what had to be the eighth car chase scene she’d sat through that evening. Joy’s movie selection methods consisted of finding the DVD covers with the hottest actors and proclaiming them ‘Must See’ movies. If she had to sit through one more scene where something exploded, her brain would be the next in line.

“I’m sorry,” she said after several minutes. “I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.”

“What? But we haven’t even gotten to the good parts yet. I’m sure he takes off his shirt at some point.”

“As riveting as that plot development sounds, I think I’ll skip out. All the other topless male models we saw before this one will just have to tie me over until tomorrow.”

“Party pooper,” Joy said, tossing a handful of popcorn in Seulgi’s direction. 

“Listen, speaking of male models, I was thinking that tomorrow night we could hang out with some of the guys I work with.

“Not this again.” Seulgi sighed, plucking popcorn from her hair.

“Look, I entirely respect your free woman movement, but let’s face it, you could still do with a little fun in the bedroom.”

“Is everything about with you?”

“And acting. Oh, and coffee. The rest is optional.”

Seulgi stared at her best friend and smiled patiently. “I know this might seem like a radical concept, but I’m actually okay with not having for a while.”

“That’s only because you haven’t been doing it properly. I can’t even begin to fathom the nightmare that Sehun must have been in bed.”

“He wasn’t that bad,” Seulgi said, feeling defensive for no good reason. “Not that I have very much to compare him to...”

“Exactly. You need a point of reference. Or two. Maybe at the same time?”

“I’m going to bed.”

Joy shut off the TV and shifted on the couch to face Seulgi. “I just don’t want you moping around the apartment for the rest of your life. There’s a whole world out there, Seul. You should learn to live in it.”

“I just don’t think of living life as hopping from one guy’s bed to another. I want more than that...”

“I thought you didn’t want another relationship?”

“I don’t. Well, I do. Eventually. Just not right now. For now, I just want to... I don’t know, go to a museum sit there for hours not having to worry about having to exist on someone else’s schedule. I want to go to bed, not worrying about whether or not I’m taking up too much room. I want to just be alone. And , while important, is not the center of my universe.”

Joy quietly contemplated Seulgi’s words. Finally she said, “All right then. I guess we’ll just take a trip to Toys in Babeland tomorrow. My Bullet is being funky, anyway. I think I wore it out.”

“Was it really necessary to share that tidbit of information?”

Joy chuckled. “Your problem, sweet Seulgi, is that you need to loosen up.”

~*~

Later, as Seulgi sat in bed staring at her computer screen, she wondered if Joy was right. Was it really that she didn’t want to sleep around, or was it simply that she was too scared to? The thought of meeting up at a sleazy bar and hooking up with a random guy was entirely unappealing. So what if he was good looking? There had to be more to a person than that. What about conversation? Or getting to know someone? Was she stupid to want those things?

Despite what Joy suspected, the problem with her and Sehun had never been that he was bad in bed. To the contrary, it was probably one of the few points in their relationship where she felt like they connected.

If had been the problem, Seulgi would have considered herself lucky. Finding was easy. Finding respect, trust... love... Those were the things you had to dig for.

~*~

JISOO

Jisoo wondered at what point it was considered okay to kick people out of her home. Was it okay, for example, to interrupt her best friend and her assistant in the middle of their make-out session on her couch to tell them – kindly – to please take it elsewhere?

The movie on the screen flickered on, but Jisoo was too grossed out by the kissing noises happening a few feet away from her to pay much attention to the plot. Then there was Amber. Amber had been staring at her since the lights had gone out. Jisoo wondered if subtlety was something lacking in the lesbian community or if the girl simply didn’t care if Jisoo knew.

In an attempt to dissuade her, Jisoo turned her head to look at her, but Amber caught her eye and winked.

Jisoo swirled her head around and decided to concentrate instead on the many ways she would make Rosé pay for this.

“You’re really beautiful,” Amber whispered. “But you probably get told that a lot. I hope I’m not too forward in saying it.”

Jisoo remained silent, wondering if this was a nightmare she would mercifully awake from.

“I can’t believe I’m sitting in Kim Jisoo’s living room,” Amber continued. “I mean, I knew Rosé worked for you and everything, but... wow.”

A high-pitched giggle caused both of them to turn their heads in Jackson and Rosé’s direction.

Jisoo rolled her eyes.

“Weird seeing your ex with someone else, isn’t it?” Amber said. “I mean, Rosé and I weren’t really a couple or anything, but you know. It’s still weird seeing someone you’ve slept with kissing someone else.”

“You slept with Rosé?” Jisoo asked, and suddenly realized she’d said it loud enough to be heard across the room. Kissing noises abruptly stopped.

“What?” Jackson was saying.

“Uh...” Rosé said.

“You slept with her?” Jackson hooked a thumb in Amber’s direction. “Seriously?” 

“Hey! What is that supposed to mean?” Amber said. 

“’Seriously?’”

“Just once!” Rosé said defensively.

“Well, one night,” Amber countered. “But if I recall there were multiple sessions.” Jackson gaped.

Jisoo, for her part, covered her face with her hand.

“Amber!” Rosé cried.

“I need to get out of here,” Jackson said, rising from the couch. “This is a little too weird for me right now.”

“What the hell! You knew I slept with women.”

“You could have told me this was one of them.” Jackson headed for the front door, Rosé right behind him.

“Don’t you walk away from me!”

Amber jumped up to follow them. “Hey, who the hell is driving me home?” The slamming door thundered throughout the house.

“Well, that’s one way to get rid of people,” Jisoo decided.

~*~

It had been over a week and Jisoo had yet to reply to the artist. If it weren’t for the fact that she kept thinking about it, Jisoo would have considered the entire matter behind her. And yet, she still found herself at the computer almost every night, checking to see if Seulgi would write to her anyway. Each time, the inbox turned up empty and Jisoo would be left with the undeniable compulsion to reply; just one more time.

It was the not knowing what to say that always stopped her. She simply didn’t know how to offer relationship advice. And by now, she imagined, the time for it had passed.

Dear Seulgi, she typed, surprising herself, and yet not moving to close the reply window. A part of her felt it was inevitable that she should reply eventually, despite herself. She sat back against the pillows to think about the rest. Her bedroom was dark, save for the light from her computer screen. Before picking up the computer, she had been trying, unsuccessfully, to sleep. Her thoughts invariably drifted to Amber, and she wondered if she’d been stupid not to take advantage of the opportunity. How often were gay women sitting on her couch, calling her beautiful? So what if she hadn’t been attracted to her? Beneath the baggy pants and extra large T-shirt Amber was still a woman... that had to be enough, no?

Yet the thought of kissing Amber didn’t excite Jisoo in any way. And the fact that Amber had slept with Rosé made the entire situation even less appealing.

Jisoo shook her head at the thought, dismissing it and Amber along with it. She had never been the type to settle for anything, why should she start now?

Turning back to the task at hand, she started typing.

I’m sorry for not writing to you sooner. I want to say that I’ve been busy or that things came up, but the truth is, I just didn’t know how to reply to your last email. In the spirit of honesty, I should admit that my relationship experience is practically zero. Actually, I’m not sure that it would even merit a ‘practically’, I just didn’t want to sound like a complete loser. I generally save those kinds of admissions for at least the third or fourth sentences in a paragraph.

But despite the fact that I know nothing about love – having never been lucky (unlucky?) enough to be in it – I want to believe that true love doesn’t just vanish. The romantic in me wants to believe that love conquers all, that you can live happily ever after, and so on and so forth. Unfortunately, I imagine that love, like life, is nowhere near as simple as that. First, you have to meet someone you’re attracted to, not just in looks, but in personality. And how often does that happen? Well, perhaps you have better luck in that department than I do...

But then, even if you meet someone you’re attracted to, whose personality rocks your world, what are the odds that they find you equally engaging?

To be honest, I’m not really sure how people even manage it. I have two friends who recently ended up in bed together and now seem to be in a relationship. I sometimes wonder: how did that happen? Did they just look at each other and know that the other wanted the same thing? Did they talk about it? Was it just a feeling? When does that moment occur, that friendship turns to lust, and like turns to love, and it just so happens that it’s mutual?

It all sounds terribly unlikely, don’t you think?

I guess the reason that I’m burdening you with all of these rambling thoughts at what would be three in the morning for you, is that tonight a friend tried to set me up with someone, and despite the fact that my lack of romantic endeavors should make me desperate to be with anyone with a pulse, I find myself incapable of settling.

No matter how unlikely the chances that I may meet that ‘right’ person, I can’t bring myself to be with the wrong one. Still, I keep thinking, what if what I think is the wrong person at first glance, actually turns out to be The One upon closer inspection. How close do you have to look before you know for sure?

Until soon, Sooya.

~.~

SEULGI

Seulgi absently tapped the rubber end of her number two pencil against the open text book in front of her, certain that somehow, the rhythmic beat helped her concentrate. She read through three sentences before her gaze wandered around the kitchen. The time on the microwave read 7:49, and she stared until the numbers changed. Ten minutes remained of her allotted study time, and she sighed, feeling anxious to move on to something else.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of her laptop, and despite her resolution to study, she couldn’t help but read over the words on the screen. Though she had yet to reply, Seulgi had still to close Sooya’s last email. It gave her something to think about during her moments of procrastination, when thinking about love and life and relationships seemed far more interesting than solving redundant equations.

Seulgi glanced up at the time again: 7:51. It was close enough to eight o’clock, she decided, slamming shut the Pre-Calculus text. She still had days before the next exam. Relieved, and feeling productive, she pulled the laptop closer and the homework out of the way.

After grabbing a bottle of juice from the fridge, she sat back down and began her reply.

Dear Sooya,

Having only had one relationship, I’m certainly no expert in the ways of love. I don’t remember exactly how Sehun and I got together to begin with. I remember the basics, the where and when and how we met, but I can’t recall the precise moment when we went from strangers to friends to more.

All I know is that we met at an art gallery many years ago. My best friend, Joy (my now roommate), thought it would be fun to crash an upscale benefit party, hosted by a totally overrated New York artist at a totally overrated art gallery uptown. I remember we got dressed up in our fanciest attire, and that Joy made me rehearse a “script” she made up to get us in. We worked on the “lines” during the subway ride. I suppose this is where I reveal that my best friend is an actress. We paint a pretty clichéd picture of New York, don’t we? Struggling artist, hopeful actress...

Anyway, I thought Joy’s idea was both hysterical and ridiculous, and I think the only reason that I even agreed to go was that I never thought we’d actually get in... As it happened, the guy checking invitations turned out to be an old high school friend of Joy’s and he let us through. It’s weird how things happen, isn’t it?

Needless to say, Sehun was there. His family is very New York elite. They are everywhere that matters, and by extension, so is Sehun. I try to remember the moment we met often, but it’s fuzzy. I don’t remember if we were looking at art or if we were just standing near art, but I remember he smiled at me. The exact dialogue escapes me, probably because I was so nervous about being caught there. So I remember that when he smiled at me, I got really nervous. I thought, “Oh no, he can see I don’t belong here...”

But he only wanted to chat about how boring the party was and how his parents had forced him to attend. I found him easy to talk to, and I started to relax, forgetting about the party or the fact that Joy had disappeared into the crowd and left me all alone.

I can’t say that I thought anything would come of it, though. It was only a conversation, and I figured that once we ran out of subject matter he would smile politely and excuse himself. I could tell, just by looking at him, that he was really wealthy. Only, he didn’t come across as cocky or self-involved. I guess that’s why, in spite of myself, I gave him my number when he asked. Well, that, and I didn’t know how to refuse.

I’m tempted to say, “And then the clock struck midnight and I fled the party, leaving behind one of my cheap Payless shoes...” But, I won’t. Heh.

A few days after the party, after it had become just a fun story to tell friends, Sehun called. I came clean on the phone, about how my friend and I had crashed the party and how I was very far from being the heiress to a family fortune or anything like that. I thought the information would turn him off, but to the contrary, he seemed all the more interested. Sometimes, I think he was just trying to rebel against his parents by dating me. Who knows? All the same, I agreed on a date. It went well ... and I guess more dates just followed.

It’s strange because I feel like most of it just happened. One date followed another, until a kiss came, and then time passed, and one thing followed the other. There was never a moment when I wondered, “Am I even attracted to him?” I didn’t question it. I just let it happen.

I guess my feelings on it sound terribly unromantic, but that might only be my current feelings clouding the memory. The truth is, I think that for the most part, these things happen. And maybe because they ‘just happen’ they sometimes end up... well, ending. I’m sure that if people started to think over every minute detail of everything they might never date at all.

Hm. That’s not to say that you will never date at all...

I find it inspiring, actually, the idea of not settling. Of knowing what you want and waiting patiently for it. I suppose maybe I’ll aim for that next. Only, I guess the question for me is mainly: how do you know what you want?

Seulgi sat back to stare at her own question, surprised at having written it. She had always known that she wanted to be an artist; known it since the moment she’d picked up a pencil to write her very first ‘A’ and ended up with a drawing of the kitchen window instead.

She remembered staring at the window, at the way the light filtered through the leaves of the trees outside. She remembered thinking there was nothing more beautiful than the beams of light shining upon the paper on the table; a paper that suddenly seemed terribly empty despite the wide lines. She could think of nothing more suitable to fill it with than the power of that moment. It was a rough attempt, far from perfect or even good, but when the pencil finally lifted from the page, she felt happy; whole.

Seulgi stared thoughtfully at the question on the screen, pondering whether or not to erase it. Didn’t she know what she wanted? Didn’t the usual conglomeration of adjectives – funny, smart, caring, artistic, etc – conjure up an adequate image of The One?

I want to believe that when I find the Right Person it will be obvious. That there will be a moment, something fast and barely palpable that will say, ‘This is it.’ But that’s just the romantic in me talking, and to be honest, I’m not sure I’m much of a romantic at all. It’s more likely that I’ll finally give in, let my roommate set me up with some of the eight million guys she’s always trying to set me up with, and one of them will be close enough to ideal that a blind date will turn into a second date, and so on and so forth.

I guess I don’t know how to answer your question about how close to look before you know. Maybe it depends. Maybe, with some people you have to dig. Maybe with others it’s immediate. You never know until you try, right?

All the same, whatever it is that you’re looking for... I hope you find it.

~*~

JISOO

Jisoo dropped the marker on the coffee table and stretched out her hand. She sighed with relief. “Done. Thank God. If I have to sign one more picture of myself I’ll ...” She paused to think of something suitably dramatic. “... fling myself into the sea.”

Rosé snorted. “I can’t believe you stopped to think and that’s what you came up with. Fling yourself into the sea?”

“Shut up. I’ve been signing my name over and over for the past three hours. Do you know what that does to a person’s brain?”

“It flings it into the sea?”

Jisoo shook her head, capped the marker, and tossed it at Rosé.

Her assistant laughed as she batted the object away. “Nice aim. And anyway, you shouldn’t complain. I’ve been envelopes. My tongue is numb, and how do I know the glue isn’t poisonous?”

“Like on Seinfeld?”

“Yes! Exactly. I’m going to die a slow, painful death right here on your carpet. Death by .” Rosé reddened slightly. “Envelopes,” she added softly. “ envelopes.”

Jisoo decided not to comment further. Any conversation involving tongues and could only lead one place. “So what’s next on today’s fun-filled agenda?”

“Next up is a little game I like to call ‘Replying to Phone Messages Gone Ignored For Far Too Long’.”

“I already don’t like this game.”

“Tough. This is why you pay me the big bucks.” Rosé took a minute to put away the signed copies of photos, and took out a stack of notes. “First up, Janet.”

“Oy.”

“She called twice on Monday to remind you about Daniel Thornton’s phone call. Then she called again on Tuesday to ask how the phone call went. On Wednesday she called three times to demand why you had not answered Daniel’s call. Yesterday she called to say that you were embarrassing her, and to please have the decency to return people’s phone calls.”

“Who the hell is Daniel Thornton?”

Rosé went on to the next slip. “Doctor Daniel Thornton called Monday night to say that Janet had given him your number. He wanted to ask if you would like to join him for dinner on Thursday night.”

“Right. Well, I’ve been swamped. Did you tell them I was swamped?”

“I told Janet you were filming and your hours were crazy. I told Daniel that you didn’t swing that way.” Rosé smiled sweetly, and then dodged a pen cap. It hit the couch behind her. She laughed. “I told him the same thing. That you’d be filming late into the night and that you probably wouldn’t be able to get back to him until the weekend.”

“Urgh.”

“That’s the spirit. Next up is Jennie Ruby.”

Jisoo glanced up at the name. “She’s that director...”

“Yeah, and she’s going to be in L.A. Saturday and Sunday and begged for an hour of your time whenever possible. I checked your schedule and you’re free pretty much all day Saturday if you want to do lunch or something.”

Jisoo nodded. “Yeah, definitely. Set it up.”

Rosé jotted something down. “So, what’s the film about? I saw you reading the script the other day. Is it good?”

Jisoo nodded and found herself smiling despite her reluctance to accept the role. “It’s really, really good actually.”

“But?”

“How do you know there’s a but?”

“There’s always a but with you.”

Jisoo let out a long breath and looked over at Rosé. “It’s a lesbian role.”

Rosé’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You have to take it! Please. Who will you be kissing? Oh, my God.”

“Are you quite done?”

“No! Can I read it? Is it here? Can I read it?”

“Glad to know that you see my dilemma,” Jisoo said dryly, taking a sip of her drink. 

“Is it a lead role?”

“Yep.”

“Wow. Wow.” She took a deep breath and attempted to look calm and collected. “So what’s the dilemma?” She suddenly looked serious. “Are you worried it’s going to out you?”

Jisoo sighed. “There’s that, but... it’s a lot of things.”

Rosé put down her stack of messages and regarded Jisoo with a concerned expression. “Want to talk about it?”

Jisoo bit her lip. She didn’t even want to think about it, let alone talk about it. But she supposed she had to. If she was going to meet with the director she needed to have her thoughts in order. “It’s going to sound silly.”

“Try me.”

“Well, you know... I’ve done love scenes in the past, right?”

“God, yes! That scene with you and Erik Axel in Rivera Crescent was so hot. The part where they just show that shot of you on top of – ah, I’m sorry. That’s not where I meant to go with this conversation. Yes. Love scenes. Continue.”

Jisoo arched an eyebrow at her assistant, but shook her head, continuing. “Well, I didn’t mind doing them because I always thought of it as part of the acting...”

“But with a girl it wouldn’t be acting?”

“No! It would... that’s... the problem.” Jisoo ran a hand through her hair in frustration. “I just never figured that my first kiss with a girl would be... fake.”

Rosé smiled brightly. “Aww, who knew Kim Jisoo was such a romantic?” Despite herself, Jisoo blushed.

“Maybe we just need to get you a girl to make out with before you start filming,” Rosé suggested.

“That... no.” Jisoo shook her head. “I don’t want to hook up with some random person.”

“Mmm, well finding your one true love in time might be more of a challenge,” she said, reaching for her PDA, “but I think you have a free hour next week between the photo shoot and the talk show interview. I’ll stylus it in.”

Jisoo smiled. “Funny.”

Rosé smiled sympathetically. “I guess you just have to decide what’s more important to you: a role you want to play, or your reservations about playing it.”

Jisoo thought about it for a long moment. Finally, she sighed in a way that meant they were in for a change of subject. “How’s Jackson doing? I haven’t heard from him since your dramatic exit the other day. I keep getting his voice mail.”

It was Rosé’s turn to look uncomfortable. She capped and uncapped the pen in her hand several times before replying. “He was really upset. We had a horrifically awkward drive to Amber’s and then a horribly silent drive to my place.” She bit her lip. “He’s not answering my calls. I had no idea he’d be so angry. He’s known all of this time that I dated women. I thought he didn’t care. I half expected him to ask for a .”

The last part was said jokingly but Jisoo heard the insecurity in the words. “He’ll come around,” she said, believing it was true, yet hoping she wasn’t wrong. “He really cares about you, Rosé. He wouldn’t be this upset if he didn’t. He’s just scared.”

Rosé nodded. “You know what’s crazy? I was so freaked out about you and him. I mean, I really thought you were secretly in love with him and that any day now you would turn around and tell him so, and that would be it.” She bit her lip again. “I’m sure you’ve probably guessed by now that I had a crush on you before and I’m not saying that to make you uncomfortable. I mean, you’re you. You’re gorgeous, so it figures that you’d also be smart and funny and all of that other stuff that makes you both sickening and irresistible to the rest of us mere mortals.”

Jisoo didn’t know what to say, so she waited for Rosé to continue. She was trying hard not to appear as uncomfortable as she felt.

“Anyway,” Rosé continued, “I knew that if there was a chance, any chance, that you cared for Jackson in that way, that he would come running to you without a second thought. You have to know he’s loved you since the moment he met you. And he’s really good at hiding it so it’s hard to say where he stands in those feelings lately, but... well... I... I think I’m in love with him.”

“Oh,” was all Jisoo could manage, surprised at how shocked she felt by the confession. She swallowed, feeling awkward and out-of-place in a conversation about love. “Have you told him that?”

“Are you crazy? It’s Jackson. He’d freak.”

“Well, he’s already freaked in what appears to be the opposite extreme, so maybe this will bring him back to a healthy middle ground.”

Rosé looked thoughtful. “Maybe I could stand outside his apartment holding up a huge sign that reads, ‘I love you, you moron.’”

Jisoo grinned. “Now who’s the romantic?”

“Ugh.” Rosé sighed, then smiled. “Thanks for letting me ramble.”

“Any time. It’s not every day a girl confesses having had a crush on me and being in love with my best friend all in the same conversation.”

“Ah, well. You pay me to keep your life interesting.” Rosé sat up and picked up the stack of messages again. “So, back to work.” She pushed Jisoo’s cell phone closer to the actress and then handed over a slip of paper. “Time for a game I like to call ‘Jisoo Calls Back People She Doesn’t Want to Talk to While I Read That Juicy Movie Script.’” Rosé clapped her hands in anticipation. “Where is it?”

“I’m really starting to hate your games.” Jisoo paused and sighed. “It’s on my desk.” 

~*~

After Rosé had gone and the sound of company and conversation had faded into silence, Jisoo lay back on the lounge chair and stared up at the sky. Above her, the moon burned dimly, if at all, its light temporarily lost behind patches of clouds. She had missed another sunset.

The realization upset her less than she was used to, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to visualize her grandmother. Though it had been only four years, the image Jisoo held in her mind was beginning to wane. The brown eyes, so similar to her own, were growing harder to picture. The voice, the laugh, the sounds were all but gone. Jisoo opened her eyes and forced her thoughts to drift. She thought of her pending meeting with a director whose movie script she both loved and dreaded. Other notable scripts would come, wouldn’t they? Why take this one? Why not take it?

It was probable that the only females Jisoo would kiss would be in front of a camera anyway. Who was she going to meet hidden away in her house? Who would she risk dating in the Hollywood world? Who outside of it would she even trust?

Her thoughts shifted to Seulgi, and Jisoo’s heart sped up at the recollection that she hadn’t checked her mail in days. Her filming schedule had allowed for very little, and suddenly, the thought that she had an unread email in her inbox filled her with a sense of urgency.

Upstairs, the laptop hummed to life with a touch of a key, and Jisoo sat at her desk waiting for her webmail to load. At the sight of the name Kang Seulgi, Jisoo smiled, double-clicking the name as fast as modern technology allowed.

She read over Seulgi’s words, feeling both fascinated and guilty. At the end of the email, she paused at the words, “You never know until you try,” before continuing.

When she’d finished reading she sat back on the chair and frowned. Even if she was open to trying, whom would she try with? Amber was very much out of the question, which only left Rosé, and Jisoo was pretty sure that was out of the question too.

Sitting up, she hit ‘reply’ and settled her fingers on the keyboard.

Dear Seulgi,

Once again I apologize for the delay in my reply. This time I blame work and its crazy, demanding, inhumane hours. Things should start to settle down soon, though, so you can expect more timely emails from me. Assuming, of course, you don’t get sick of me in the meantime, which would be understandable, and even expected.

Hm. Normally, I’m not so self-deprecating. I’m sorry.

I’m not normally so overly apologetic, either. In fact, maybe I’m not me at all. Perhaps I’ve been replaced by a pod. A self-deprecating, overly-apologetic... pod.

Never mind. Let me start this email over: 

Dear Seulgi,

I am not sorry for the delay in my reply, nor do I think you may ever tire of waiting around for my emails.

Normally, I’m not so arrogant...

[We’ll just pretend I wrote a relatively normal-sounding intro to this email and have moved on to relevant topics of conversation...]

I don’t know that I’ve ever considered myself a romantic – though a friend called me just that earlier today. I’ve never believed in love at first sight or anything of the sort. These days, honestly, I’m more prone to believe that I’ll be single forever. Unlike you, I don’t expect much would ever come from a blind date.

Actually, since we’re on the subject, I have a blind date on Saturday evening. Dinner. With a doctor. My stepmother forced this upon me and well...

Jisoo stopped typing, and for a long time her finger hovered over the backspace button. If she continued down this path, she would have to admit certain truths to the artist, and she wasn’t certain that was the best course of action. Even if Seulgi had no idea who Jisoo really was, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t one day find out. And then what? Would she release all the emails between them to the press? Would the media be able to track back the emails to Jisoo?

Horrific scenarios flashed through Jisoo’s mind, complete with tabloid headlines. What would stop Seulgi from blabbing? And still, Jisoo didn’t delete anything. She wanted to trust the artist. She wanted to hold on to the belief that they could be friends. Friends who might exchange emails their entire lives and never meet, but friends nonetheless. Frowning, Jisoo removed her fingers from the keyboard.

There was also the matter of how Seulgi might take Jisoo’s admission. What were the odds that a New York artist was homophobic? Jisoo had no idea.

Without much thought, she dug her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed. “Jisoo?”

“Jackson?”

“Jisoo?”

“Jackson?”

There was silence and then a loud sigh. “What can I do for you?”

Jisoo hesitated, foreseeing the consequences of what she was about to say. “If I ask you something, do you promise not to ask me any questions in relation to what I’m about to ask you?”

“Uh...”

“I ask. You answer. I hang up.”

“All right ...”

“Okay.” Jisoo took a deep breath. “What do you think are the odds that an artist in New York is homophobic?”

“What?”

“That’s a question!”

“Sorry. I would like to know what you’re talking about.”

“Hey! That’s a thinly veiled question!”

“You said nothing about thinly veiled questions.”

“Never mind. I’m hanging up. Oh, and by the way, you’re being an idiot. Call Rosé.”

“What?”

“Bye!” Jisoo hung up before Jackson had a chance to say anything else. She contemplated her next move, and then dialed. Rosé picked up on the second ring.

“If I ask you something do you promise to just answer without asking any questions, thinly veiled or otherwise, about what I’m about to ask you?”

“Er... does my job depend on it?”

“Of course.”

“Then shoot.”

“Hypothetically speaking, what do you think the odds are that an artist in New York is homophobic?”

“Well that would depend. Are they originally from New York?” 

“I think she’s Korean or at least having a Korean background, I don’t know.”

“Okay... well, are they religious?”

“I don’t know.”“Mmkay. Did they Republican?”

“Rosé, I don’t know. I don’t know her very well.” Jisoo flinched. “Hypothetically... of course.”

“Her?”

“That’s a question.”

“Jisoo, this isn’t fair! You can’t just call someone up and ask a question like that without it raising some eyebrows.”

Jisoo sighed. “Look, just close your eyes and think about it. Your normal, run of the mill artist type... homophobic?”

There was a pause and then, “I would say no, but you can’t know for sure. It’s never a good idea to make assumptions on this matter.”

“Okay. Thanks, Rosé.”

“Jisoo... why are you asking this?”

Jisoo hadn’t ever considered telling Rosé and Jackson about Seulgi. Partly because she felt guilty about lying to a stranger, partly because she was embarrassed about having emailed the artist in the first place, and partly because she’d never expected the emails to go on for so long. Rosé and Jackson would naturally blow the whole thing out of proportion. How would it look to them that she, Kim Jisoo, was exchanging emails with a girl, lying about her identity, while still divulging her inner most secrets? Naturally, they’d jump to the very incorrect conclusion that Jisoo might have more-than-friendly feelings toward the artist, and turn the entire situation into something awkward and exaggerated. Telling them the truth was out of the question. She’d never live this down.

“Jisoo? Still there?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m here. Look, Rosé, there’s nothing really to talk about. I was just... uh. I was working on a short story and my main character is an artist in New York and I was just wondering whether or not she should be... ah, homophobic. So there. Now you know. I like to dabble in the literary arts after dark.”

“How illicit.”

“It’s my naughty little secret. Now, I must return to it before my muse runs away.”

“Ah-huh. Talk to you tomorrow, Shakespeare.”

Jisoo hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. She had no idea if Rosé believed her or not – she doubted it, actually – but at least it had gotten her off the phone. The email stared back at her from the computer screen and Jisoo placed her hands on the keyboard once again.

Actually, since we’re on the subject, I have a blind date on Saturday evening. Dinner. With a doctor. My stepmother forced this upon me and well... he’s not really my type. I expect much awkwardness and uncomfortable silence.

Does it count as a date if you know beforehand that there is no chance in hell that anything will come of it?

Jisoo sat back, thinking. She’d opened the door to the possibility that Seulgi would ask some direct questions. Now it was just a matter of deciding, if the questions ever came, whether or not she’d lie.