“Your video’s doing numbers.” Aeri said, watching the said clip on her phone. “I have to say I’m impressed, but not surprised.”

 

Minjeong rolled her eyes, sipping her iced tea until it’s empty and making obnoxious slurpy noises.

 

“You got yourself a fanclub.” Yizhuo chimed in, also looking at the same video on her own phone.

 

“Really?” Aeri, for once, looked up.

 

“Yeah. They call themselves…winterbelles?”

 

“Ooh, where do I sign up?”

 

“I don’t know, maybe you have to send an audition clip.”

 

“Oh, Winter with your honeyed voice and angelic face! Please step on me!” Aeri dramatically exclaimed, cackling when the blonde landed a punch on her arm.

 

“Shut up.” Minjeong groaned, face burning with mortification.

 

They were at a coffee shop, finally finding the time in their busy schedules to hang out. Minjeong had been reluctant though, and she still was uneasy because she knew the two would gang up on her. Especially with all her issues going on at the moment.

 

For now, the atmosphere was light and easy but Minjeong remained alert, though it might not show on her slouched sitting position. She expected an attack and even wished they would interrogate her already so she could get it over and done with.

 

Aeri’s phone pinged. “I’m getting job offers for you.” She gave Minjeong a look over her phone.

 

Minjeong shrugged. “Just do the usual.”

 

“Hmm. Okay.” Aeri nodded, proceeding to accept music making related stuff and rejecting invitations for television appearances.

 

“I feel lucky you love me enough to do that cover.” Yizhuo said, grinning from behind her glass.

 

Ah, here it is. Minjeong mentally prepared herself. “Actually--”

 

“Oh, she didn’t do it for you. You’re not that special, Ning Yizhuo.” Aeri cut in.

 

Yizhuo’s hand flew to her chest. “And what reason does she have other than loving me?”

 

Their smiles were slow and sly and the way squinted eyes drifted to Minjeong made her hair stand on end. Just where did she get friends that terrorizes her like this?

 

“Yeah,” Aeri drawled, giving Minjeong a pointed look. “I wonder.”

 

Minjeong sighed. “I already told you, I had a promise to keep.” she started, pushing the melting ice in her glass around with her straw.

 

“Yoo Jimin?”

 

Yizhuo kicked Aeri under the table, “Why else would she call her out in the beginning of the video, dummy?”

 

Aeri hissed, rubbing her offended leg, “Gee, just checking?”

 

“What’s that promise?” Yizhuo prodded, attention fully on Minjeong again.

 

“I kind of told her I’d let her listen to the song I was writing when it’s finished, so.” she ended the sentence with a shrug.

 

That’s all there was, really. They should let it go. Minjeong braved a glance at her friends and caught them still staring at her, eyes narrowed.

 

“Are you sure that’s all?” Aeri questioned.

 

Minjeong sighed. Okay, maybe releasing a cover in public under a prominent entertainment company and mentioning Jimin in it was a little over the top.

 

“Yeah, you were going out of your way for that one.” Yizhuo commented, as though reading her thoughts. “You could’ve just sent her a link to my version or something.”

 

“I don’t know, okay?” She huffed, frustrated that they’re grilling her and that they’re exposing her. Couldn’t they at least pretend not to know?

 

“At this point it just looks like you’re trying to get her attention.” Yizhuo said, earning a glare.

 

“I’m not.”

 

“I wonder if she did notice.” Aeri mused, completely ignoring her.

 

Yizhuo’s phone buzzed on the table, a notification popping up in her lockscreen. It took her attention away from the interrogation and Minjeong let out a sigh of relief. Now, there’s only one devil left to defeat...

 

Aeri sipped on her drink, eyes still on her. “Did you even think about it?”

 

“I thought I did.” Minjeong replied, “But maybe I didn’t think about it hard enough. You’re right. It’s the wrong choice--”

 

“We’re not saying you made a wrong decision--”

 

Minjeong bristled. “Then why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep pushing me?”

 

“Minjeong, why don’t you just try and see if this would work?”

 

“Stop telling me what to do!”

 

She loves Aeri and understands she means well but Minjeong couldn’t help it. Both Aeri and Yizhuo knew very well why she did not want to give this a chance. They were there, for goodness sake.

 

The table was quiet after her outburst and guilt immediately ate her up.

 

“Unnie, I--”

 

“You ask why we keep doing this. Why we keep pushing you.” Aeri spoke, “But that’s because you hardly do anything unless you’re told to and sometimes, all it takes is an outside force to make you realize that going after what you want is valid.”

 

“I do want this.” Minjeong argued, “Peace and no heartache.”

 

“Are you really at peace?” Aeri questioned, “Because you most certainly don’t seem to be heartache free.”

 

Minjeong clenched her jaw, looking away as heat prickled behind her eyes.

 

“Come on. Ask yourself. Do you really want this?”

 

She had, at least a thousand times. She sighed, all the fight leaving her in a breath. “No.” She admitted, voice small and it’s amazing how a two lettered word could lift so much weight from her chest.

 

“The first time in a long while we’ve ever witnessed you being genuinely happy was in those Paris videos. And maybe we want to see happiness in you again. This time, hopefully, for a long, long time.” Aeri said. “Help yourself, Minjeong. Go get her.”

 

“But--”

 

“I would get you tickets,” Minjeong felt a strong sense of deja vu as Aeri waved her phone around. “But I don’t think you’d appreciate that right now.”

 

Minjeong sighed, feeling a headache coming up. “Look, I’m sorry--”

 

“Unnie. Minjeong-unnie,” Yizhuo spoke, eyes glued to her phone and not the least bothered by the rising tension between her friends. “I think you need to see this.”

 

The urgency in her voice made Minjeong shift nervously on her seat. She accepted Yizhuo’s phone and blanched when she saw the screen.

 

“What is this?” She frowned at Yizhuo.

 

“Just watch it.” The girl insisted.

 

Giving her one last lingering scowl, Minjeong turned to the device. It’s one of Jimin’s song covers and it seemed like it was uploaded just now. Probably the notification Yizhuo received. Taking a deep breath, she tapped the play button.

 

Jimin was sitting in what looked like the balcony of her hotel room, the cityscape of New York in the background which Minjeong recognized because of the famous Empire State Building. The brunette shifted in front of her keyboard, looking uncharacteristically nervous with her awkward smile instead of her usual confident one but still without fail beautiful beyond words, but Minjeong digressed.

 

Letting out a shaky breath, she looked earnestly into the camera. “Hey, Kim Minjeong.” Minjeong blinked and Jimin started singing,

 

Don’t you tell me that it wasn’t meant to be.

 

Her voice was still as gorgeous as the last time Minjeong heard it: unique, deep, and dreamy.

 

Call it quits, call it destiny.

Just because it won’t come easily

Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.

 

Jimin’s fingers moved and the melodic piano filled the air. She looked stunning under the sunlight, dark hair gently blown by the breeze as though dancing to the music, eyes solemnly closed.

 

You might have tried my patience lately

But I’m not about to let us fail

I’ll be the wind picking up your sail

But won’t you do something for me?

 

Don’t you tell me it wasn’t meant to be

Call it quits, call it destiny

Just because it won’t come easily

Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try

 

Somebody cleared their throat in their table but Minjeong’s eyes were glued on the device, blood thrumming beneath her skin and it was alarming how, for the first time in months, she felt so alive.

 

Jimin seemed to be staring straight into her soul, gaze impassioned and sincere, trying to get a message through the screen.

 

Coming and going

Inside out

Back to front

Oh, tangled and messy

That’s how we’ve been and will always be

And that’s alright with me

 

There’s trepidation simmering just beneath the churning of her gut as the song progressed. Jimin was trying to tell her something and damn if that wasn’t obvious (just because it won’t come easily doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try) and Minjeong wanted to hide and cover her ears but couldn’t seem to move a single muscle, entranced by the sheer sincerity in Jimin’s eyes.

 

Just because it won’t come easily

Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try

 

Minjeong’s pretty sure the song was over but Jimin didn’t seem to be done yet. She continued playing, chords progressing and transitioning smoothly to a different song. The emotions poured into the keys of black and white was jarring, accentuated by the furrow of her brows and closed eyes. And when she opened them, Minjeong was crushed by the sheer weight of her gaze--desperate, earnest, and hopeful yet anxious.

 

Jimin pressed her lips together, the nervous shift in her eyes unnoticeable but Minjeong had always been keen about all things Jimin.

 

“I guess this is the bitter end I didn’t see coming,” the brunette started to sing, “And I’m havin’ a little bit of trouble accepting too,”

 

Minjeong stopped breathing for a moment, recognizing the song. Her heart played a chaotic beat, torn between doing a crescendo or a diminuendo.

 

“It’s probably good you left ‘cause I finally admit…” Jimin paused. A deep breath.

 

I like you, I like you, I like you

Sorry I never meant to

But who are we kidding it’s not like I had a say

One look at you and I won’t have it any other way.

 

There’s a burst of flutters, in her chest, in her stomach, an explosion of sparks from the tips of her fingertips setting her face on fire yet at the same a heavy weight settling in her gut, pulling her down from her high, a lone cry of no in the midst of the chanting yes.

 

The frantic beating of her heart that was desperately trying to break out of its cage was deafening. A part of her wondered if any of this was real. Maybe Yizhuo was just pulling her leg. But then, this kind of stunt was such a Yoo Jimin thing to do and Minjeong was sorry for dumping a huge baggage on her when they parted at the airport. Aeri was right (well--she’s always right). She was a selfish coward.

 

I want you, I want you, I want you

I want you to want me too

Would it be a stress if I ask you to try again?

I’ll be patient, I swear I’ll even count to ten

 

Minjeong’s hands tightened around the device, fingertips long gone cold and pale.

 

One, two, three, four, five--

 

“ it.” Minjeong muttered, phone dropping to the table with a thud, making her friends flinch.

 

“Aeri, get me on that goddamned plane.”

 

Her friend’s look of surprise made way for a slow smile.

 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International Airport. Please make sure one last time that your seat belt is securely fastened. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.”

 

The plane carefully tilted forward and Jimin’s stomach lurched, threatening to spill its contents to the leather seats. She had buckled her seat belt so tight her guts won’t be able to move an inch, slapped on her AirPods, and held on for dear life with her nails digging into her seat but she still couldn’t find it in herself to calm down.

 

Well, because:

1. She’s heading back to Seoul
2. She’s about to meet Kim Minjeong again
3. Airplanes are ing scary

 

This is really happening huh.

 

The expanse of land outside her window reminded her that yes, it really was happening. It looked nothing like the Seoul Jimin knew. It had been almost four years now, after all. And it wasn’t like she went around peering out of airplane windows in her free time. She closed the window. The view wasn’t helping her frayed nerves and weak heart.

 

Jimin closed her eyes instead, focusing on the sweet voice that had been filling her ears on repeat--the exact reason why she was sitting in a goddamned plane headed to her homeland that she had pledged never to go back to.

 

I would never know

If you loved me

Or my company

But I don’t mind

 

‘Cause I ain’t tryna be the one

Been through this a thousand times

I don’t want to break your heart

You keep yours

I’ll keep mine

 

Thinking back, it was pretty crazy. One moment, she’s sitting in her hotel room, still reeling from the video she just watched. Even after the video went dim, she could still see Minjeong’s figure seated in the dark room, fairy lights illuminating her guitar and setting a golden hue over her delicate features, eyes holding a certain resigned sorrow as she told the world about a promise Jimin barely even remembered--

 

“Hwang Yeji?” Her friend had called her then, right at that moment and she couldn’t recall how she managed to answer the phone.

 

“Holy . Holy . Winter’s cover!” Yeji had gushed but Jimin found it hard to match her enthusiasm. “Have you seen it?”

 

She let out a shaky breath. “Just now. Yeah.”

 

“I didn’t notice when it was released but after seeing her cover…it sounds like she wrote it with someone in mind.”

 

She had not been sure if Yeji was doing it on purpose or if she was going anywhere with it but she answered, almost robotically. “Maybe.”

 

“It’s not a very optimistic song either.”

 

“It’s not.”

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

At that point, she was certain Yeji had been feigning innocence. Poking her, gauging her reaction.

 

Jimin sighed, running fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I feel.”

 

“Seriously, Yoo Jimin. I thought you’d have it figured out by now.”

 

Jimin remembered being in despair. She did not like how the song sounded so resigned and just...defeated. Yet at the same time she understood. What Minjeong might be trying to say. What she wanted for the both of them--what she thought would be the best for them.

 

But what did Jimin want?

 

“Let me give you a helping hand.” Yeji had offered. “Let’s start it out lightly. Have you ever worn the hoodie she lent you after she left?”

 

“Well...yes.”

 

“Have you creepily sniffed every inch of its fabric in hopes of getting even the slightest remnant of her?”

 

“Creepily?” Jimin protested, indignant.

 

“So you have.” Yeji said victoriously and Jimin huffed. “Have you ever thought about her, way more than necessary, in the most random times, in the most random places?”

 

She did not need to think about it. “...yes.”

 

“Okay.” Yeji’s tone was that of a preschool teacher, patiently guiding children through reds and blues. “Now. When you’re together, do you find yourself happier? Does your heart do a little skipping rope cardio exercise? Like it’s about to burst? When you look at her don’t you just feel so soft like your guts are turning into mush?”

 

Jimin did not respond.

 

“Have you ever had that strongest urge to just crash your lips together like, bam! Bon appetit!”

 

Jimin almost choked. “Hwang Yeji!”

 

“What? I’m just trying to help!”

 

“I don’t know. I just…” Jimin trailed off, thinking. Introspecting. What did Jimin want? “I just want to be with her.”

 

There. Simple. Easy. Screw complications. Being with her is enough, regardless of whatever role it would be.

 

“Are you hearing yourself right now, Yoo Jimin?”

 

“What?”

 

Yeji was quiet for a moment before regarding the elephant in the room that Jimin had been trying so hard to ignore.

 

“You like her.”

 

Jimin’s defenses went up and strings of denial streamed out of her lips. “What? How can you tell? I mean, I don’t have the urge to kiss her!”

 

“Oh yeah?” Yeji challenged. “Think again and let’s see if you can still say that.”

 

“No, I really--” the farewell at the airport appropriately popped into her head, the memory of soft lips and french vanilla crashing down the walls she put up around herself. She remembered the blonde’s sleeping face, pink lips parted and if she were for the first time be honest, she wouldn’t deny she had considered tasting them before sleep took over. “Oh my god.”

 

“Indeed, honey. Oh my god.”

 

“You might have awakened something in me.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“But just because I want to...do that doesn’t necessarily mean I like her.”

 

Yeji sighed wearily. “No, it doesn’t. But the previous things I have mentioned and you have admitted to feeling and doing does. Wanting to kiss her just backs it up.” she had explained, once more sounding like she’s talking to a child. “Now go and do something about it.”

 

And she had. She spent the rest of the night working on the piano arrangement for the two songs she had in mind. The next day, she had cancelled all her plans and filmed and edited the video and at around two in the morning, after putting up the video of her response and little confession on the internet, Jimin had made up her mind.

 

--and the next moment, Jimin’s sitting in a plane bound for Seoul without knowing what might await her there.

 

Jimin had always been the type to plan out her trips with organized itineraries, schedules, and activities laid out for every hour of every day she planned to stay in a certain country. But this time, she had nothing. No plans, no backup plans, no backup plans for the backup plans. Just her and her overwhelming feelings deciding every step that she takes.

 

I know

We know better

So we’d both better go

 

I don’t need a reason

To keep on dreaming

That we won’t lose

Yeah, what’s the use?

 

I don’t need a reason

To keep on dreaming

That we can win

At anything at all

 

One thing’s for sure though. She would definitely give Minjeong a good shake once she gets her hands on her. For letting go of hope. For lacking faith in them.

 

They could do this. They could win this stupid game called love. They got destiny’s approval after all, right?

 

The plane touched down on the tarmac with a slight bump and Jimin’s able to breathe easily again, reassured now that she’s back on the ground, yet still uneasy at the idea of being back in Seoul.

 

She’s had 14 hours to think about her decisions, though it was probably too late to turn back if she ever wanted to but she found that she regretted none of it. Well, at least not yet. Maybe when she finally meets Minjeong and she pushes her away--

 

Jimin shook her head. No. Don’t entertain such thoughts.

 

Anyway, she wasn’t prepared to meet her family and friends. They weren’t the reason why she came but if they did happen to bump into each other...well, she didn’t think as far as that--didn’t want to think about it at all.

 

The goal is Minjeong. And when she’s finally back with her then would she figure out what to do next. And Jimin was quite the goal getter.

 

Yeji had work and so Jimin didn’t inform her friend of her spontaneous homecoming, since surely she would offer to pick her up at the airport. Jimin breezed through the process--too used to it at this point--claimed her luggage, and got on a taxi.

 

Jimin was so used to travelling that everything felt like a routine. Only when she hit the familiar highways of Seoul did it sink in. She’d done it. She’d come back home.

 

Kim Minjeong...the power that you hold…

 

Jimin texted Yeji about being in town and collapsed as soon as she arrived at her hotel room, snoring as soon as her head hit the pillows. When she woke up, a day had already passed and her phone was bombarded with missed calls and messages from her friend.

 

She returned the call after showering and changing into comfortable clothes, walking out to the veranda and gazing upon Seoul’s skyline, feeling a pang of nostalgia but it’s nothing like she expected. She had somehow hypnotized herself that stepping on her country would have her instantly killed. She chuckled at the exaggerated idea, but it was the way she used to think.

 

“Yoo Jimin!”

 

She jumped, instinctively pulling the device from her ear. “H-Hey.” She swallowed the lump in . “Can you tone it down a bit?”

 

Her friend went off about how she should have informed her she’s coming and how she should’ve picked her up at the airport and scolded her about her random decision and blah, blah, and blah. Jimin put her on loudspeaker and set the phone on the railing. Not quite the ideal background music for a pleasant afternoon but better than having her scream into her ear.

 

“--not tell me? Unbelievable!” Yeji paused for a breath and Jimin immediately cut in.

 

“You done?”

 

“For now.” Yeji allowed.

 

“Okay, then if that’s all can we please get dinner? I’m famished.”

 

They promised to meet at a barbecue joint near Jimin’s hotel. Not much different from all the countries she’s gone to, but this was admittedly a little more uncomfortable. Everything was familiar, yet foreign. She couldn’t stop squirming in her seat. Sitting in the crowded area, she felt alienated though she was supposed to belong. Did she belong? No, that was kind of up in the air right now. She felt like she’s somewhere else, teetering along the lines.

 

Finally, Yeji arrived, tackling her with a big hug that crushed her ribs. “Oh my god, I missed you so much!”

 

They caught up on the happenings in each other’s lives--how Yeji’s balding boss had started wearing a wig, how the girl living across her apartment was cute, about what’s going on in their other friends’ lives--and Jimin realized just how much she missed this: chatting for hours on end, laughing and drinking with a friend and just--not having to be alone anymore.

 

“Remember that weird kid from social sciences? Well, this is her now--hey, why are you crying?”

 

Jimin blinked and indeed there were tears. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, laughing in spite of herself. “I’m just glad to be back, I guess.”

 

Yeji’s smile was soft. “Yeah, I’m glad too.” she laughed too. “You’re still such a cry baby.”

 

“Am not!”

 

The meal went on with an entertaining conversation keeping the mood light and fun. Until Yeji mentioned bumping into Jimin’s mother at the grocery store last night.

 

“She asked about you.” Yeji told her, tentative, careful. “How you’re doing and all that.”

 

Jimin hummed. “What did you say?”

 

“I told her you’re doing fine. I mean, you are, right?”

 

Jimin chuckled, shrugging. “Maybe.”

 

“Do you plan on meeting them?”

 

She shook her head. “No--not yet.”

 

Yeji nodded. “How long are you going to stay?”

 

“Depends.”

 

“Winter?”

 

“Winter.”

 

Yeji contemplatively chewed, “How do you plan to find her, anyway? You got her address?”

 

Jimin shook her head. “No.”

 

“Then how are you going to look for her?”

 

“I don’t know, destiny?”

 

“You’re crazy.” Yeji decided.

 

“Maybe I am.”

 

“What about her number? You have that, right?”

 

“She changed it. Long ago.”

 

“What about SNS?”

 

Jimin shook her head. “I don’t know any of her accounts. And they’re probably on private.”

 

“What about her friends?”

 

“Well, she mentioned Aeri. But I’m not sure if I can find her on the internet with just that. There’s Ningning. But she’s a celebrity. So I don’t think it would be easy to contact her.”

 

“Girl, haven’t you chatted with celebrities before?”

 

“Well...yes.”

 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Go and leave her a direct message. I’m sure she’ll reply.”

 

Jimin had jet lag to blame as she lay on her bed wide awake that night, thinking and hesitating about reaching out to Ningning. The idea was intimidating. She did like her a lot after all. It was close to midnight when she finally gathered the courage and sent the singer a message.

 

“Hi”

 

She rolled over her stomach, screaming into the pillow. When she held up her phone again, she almost dropped it.

 

Read.

 

Typing.

 

Oh my god.

 

“Unnie! Hi! 😊 What’s up?”

 

Jimin swallowed. Should she ask now? Or was it more appropriate to ask how she’s doing first?

 

“I didn’t expect you’d reply at this hour” she sent instead.

 

“Practices are a pain 🙄 it’s noon there in New York, isn’t it?”

 

“Actually,” Jimin typed, “I’m in Seoul.”

 

“WHAT?!”

 

Jimin blinked. What what?

 

“SINCE WHEN??”

 

“Not too long. Two days ago?”

 

“AAAAAGSHHSJSHSJ”

 

Was everything okay?

 

“ARE U HERE FOR MINJEONG UNNIE?”

 

“Yes. Can you help me?”

 

“NAURRRRNSKSHKS UNNIE 😭😭😭”

 

“??? What’s wrong??”

 

“SHE WENT TO NEW YORK AS SOON AS YOU DROPPED THAT VIDEO”

 

Jimin dropped the phone on her face. It buzzed against her nose but she didn’t care. So Minjeong wasn’t here? She has to go back to New York?

 

She picked up her phone. Ningning had sent multiple messages.

 

“YALL ARE IMPOSSIBLE”

 

“THIS IS TRAGIC”

 

“I TOLD HER TO CONTACT U FIRST THAT DUMB DUMBBB”

 

“WAIT”

 

“LET ME TELL HER URE HERE”

 

“DONT DO ANYTHING STUPID”

 

Jimin immediately typed. “Wait, no. I’ll go there instead.” she couldn’t stay here in Seoul anyway. “Tell her to stay put. Please.”

 

She immediately booked the earliest and fastest flight back to New York. After washing up, tidying up her things, and informing Yeji she’s leaving with a short explanation why, Jimin’s heading back to the airport.

 

Destiny you ed up prick.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Why wasn’t teleportation machines a thing yet?

 

This was just one of the many thoughts running amok in Jimin’s mind as she stumbled out of JFK airport and into a cab, getting off at her hotel and instantly diving into the bed as soon as she saw it.

 

Rolling on her back, she stared at the ceiling. Somewhere in this building was Minjeong’s room and possibly, Minjeong herself.

 

In the plane, she had chatted with Ningning--well, more like she was interrogated by the girl: her intentions, her feelings, hows and whys and by the end of it all, Jimin was pink with embarrassment from telling the singer she admired everything. In return to answering all her questions honestly, Ningning told her where Minjeong was staying as well as her hotel room number.

 

She was literally only a few floors away yet Jimin couldn’t find it in herself to move. She had been hasty, jumping into plane ride after plane ride without thinking but was she even truly ready to see her? What could she say without song lyrics to speak for her? Could she even say anything at all?

 

She groaned into the pillows. Just thinking about it made her both giddy and nervous.

 

Tomorrow. She can figure it out tomorrow.

 

She couldn’t.

 

It was noon when she woke up, body clock more screwed than it already was but she was accustomed to the jet lags. Nothing a little caffeine couldn’t fix. After showering and rummaging her luggage for her best outfit, she faced herself in the mirror and tried to practice.

 

Hi.

 

It’s been a while.

 

How are you?

 

You look good. As usual. You always look good--better than good. Best? No, uhh--

 

Jimin pulled her hair in frustration. This is hopeless.

 

She grabbed her phone, about to call Yeji for help when the device rang in her hands, making her jump and almost drop it.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi, unnie. Any progress?”

 

Jimin did a double take at the unfamiliar string of numbers flashed on her screen. “Ningning?”

 

“The one and only.”

 

Right. She almost forgot they exchanged numbers last night.

 

“So did you talk to her yet?”

 

Jimin scratched her cheek, “Well...about that…”

 

“Oh my god, you haven’t knocked on her door yet, have you?”

 

Jimin huffed as she sat on the dresser. “I just...I don’t know what to say. What if...what if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

 

“Unnie, she hopped on the first flight to New York to see you and you’re thinking she doesn’t want to talk to you?” Ningning clicked her tongue. “You’re both a lost cause. Just go there already! That girl might go somewhere to look for you.”

 

“She doesn’t know I’m here?”

 

“I didn’t tell her.” Ningning replied, “It would be a pleasant surprise, don’t you think?”

 

Jimin felt uneasy about that. “Okay…I’ll go to her room now.”

 

“You better. No more moping around! Attagirl!”

 

With that, Jimin managed to drag herself out of her room, up some more floors, asking the staff where room number 1101 was. After navigating through a series of corridors, accidentally walking into a wedding at a function hall, and squinting at what seemed like hundreds of door plates, she’s finally standing outside The Room, the brass 1101 staring down at her intimidatingly.

 

This is it.

 

She inhaled, knocked, and held her breath.

 

She remembered how she had barged into the girl’s hotel room at 4 AM in Paris, how shameless and invasive she had been then. She remembered Minjeong’s last day, how they stayed in her room for the entire day and blushed at the memory of how uncharacteristically clingy she was. At that time she thought it was because she’s going to miss her friend and that was true but after realizing her feelings, it felt like she was taking advantage of the girl.

 

All these thoughts came and went but there was still no response from behind the door.

 

She knocked again, louder this time.

 

Silence.

 

Did she get the wrong room? But there was no mistaking the big numbers slapped on the door. Did Ningning make a mistake?

 

As though on cue, her phone rang. It’s Ningning.

 

“Hey, I think I got the wrong room--”

 

“No, no, I called because I just checked and she just went out.” Ningning informed, “She’s at Little Italy right now, she said. Go! I’ll keep you updated.”

 

Jimin got into a cab and offered the driver a few more dollars if he could drive like he’s in Fast and the Furious. He gave her a look, shrugged, and stepped on the gas.

 

She took a deep breath of the musty taxi air, drumming fingers on her lap. Outside the window, New York sped by in a blur of colors. Traffic was relatively light. Clouds covered the sky, blocking the sun. It looked like it was going to rain.

 

Was that a bad sign? Jimin tried not to think about it.

 

She would first listen, Jimin had decided, to what Minjeong had to say and pick up from there. She wondered now why the girl had come after her. She had been too wrapped up in all her personal issues that the fact that the blonde was looking for her too went over her head.

 

There you go again, she chided herself, being so self-centered.

 

So she would hear her out first and what she would say would depend on what Minjeong would tell her.

 

Right. Okay.

 

She stepped out of the cab with excitement replacing her initial anxiety. Little Italy was a vast place, the streets often filled with tourists and vendors. Today wasn’t an excemption. It was crowded and everytime her eyes caught a flash of blonde, her head would snap to its direction only to find an unfamiliar face.

 

Was Minjeong still blonde? Jimin wasn’t sure. Her hair was the same in her cover video. A little shorter, maybe, but still the same shade of gold.

 

Jimin would have laughed if not for her desperate situation. Where were those days when they would bump into each other all the time? A little bit of that magic would be appreciated right now.

 

The soles of her feet have become sore from all the walking, sweat making her shirt stick to her skin but still, no signs of Kim Minjeong. Did she leave already?

 

Jimin spotted a secluded street. And oh, a coffee shop. She headed there, eager to be away from the people and maybe grab some refreshments. She pulled out her phone to send Ningning a message.

 

“Where exactly in Little Italy is she? I can’t seem to--”

 

“Kim Minjeong?”

 

Jimin stopped in her tracks, looking up in a snap. Just a few feet away from her, seated outside a coffee shop was the girl she’s been looking for, blonde hair covering a portion of her face but Jimin could recognize that side profile everywhere.

 

Before her stood another girl: straight dark hair all the way down to her chest, framing a mesmerizing face of doe eyes, plump rosy lips, and porcelain skin, though those features looked quite pained at the moment.

 

Something about the charged air convinced her that it wasn’t the right time to interrupt. She couldn’t see Minjeong’s expression but her body was taut, poised to attack like a predator--or flee like a prey.

 

“Minjeong-ah…” the girl said the name with so much familiarity that Jimin felt a pang of ache. “Do...Do you still remember me?”

 

“Of course. Unfortunately, break ups don’t come with instant selective amnesia.” Minjeong’s sounded harsh, almost unrecognizable.

 

But the girl smiled. “I missed you.”

 

There’s a gaping hole in Jimin’s chest but what she felt didn’t matter at that moment. Minjeong did. She looked at her--still, unmoving, stiff as though she heard nothing. Her fists were clenched, knuckles white and Jimin worried she might throw them across the girl’s pretty face.

 

The girl cleared . “It’s been a long time.” She said and Jimin remembered her own practiced lines.

 

It sounded lame. She should scrap that line.

 

“Want to go grab a drink?”

 

Minjeong’s still quiet, sitting so still it seemed like she wasn’t breathing. And then she’s opening to speak. “I--”

 

Cheery marimba pierced the air.

 

Dun. Dundundundururun dun dun dun dun dun dun.

 

.

 

Two heads turned. Jimin wanted the ground to swallow her whole. Oh god, kill me now.

 

She gave them an apologetic smile, too busy fumbling and trying to shut her phone up to notice how the tension eased out of Minjeong’s muscles in a single sigh of relief.

 

“No, sorry.” She barely registered Minjeong’s voice in the background, chair scraping the ground. “I already found who I came here for.”

 

Warm hands held her arm, a gentle tug leading her away, back into the crowded streets of Little Italy. Their steps were brisk, as though running away from something. And maybe they were.

 

Jimin looked at her, the gaping hole in her chest filled with wild beats.

 

“Where are we going?” She whispered into her ear, the only way to be heard over the loud chatter of the mob.

 

The grip on her arm tightened. “Anywhere but here” Minjeong replied, tone hushed and breath warm against her skin. Their gazes met--vulnerable, exhausted.

 

“Take me away, Yoo Jimin.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

***

chapter 7 songs for context

Lose - Niki

Easily - Bruno Major

I Like U - Niki