[7:59 a.m] Seungwan’s arm dangles off the edge of the bed as soft breathing fills the bedroom.

. . .

Her nose crinkles at the rude buzz of her alarm as she reaches over to swipe sleep on Iann Dior’s Mood with much struggle. Her head pulses faintly, but it’s the memory of Joohyun’s bitterness that has her cringing into her pillow with a groan. What actually happened? Her brain is a tangled clump of empty film strips. She tries to remember if it was anything she said that caused the night to end on such an uncomfortable note. Things seemed to be going great before Joohyun stormed off. But then a passing memory of scorching bottles and ice-cold stares flashes through her mind and the next thing she knows, she’s hunched over, cradling her head in her hands.
 

Right. Taeyeon’s confession.

Just as she hits the mental speedbump, her bedroom door swings open and in barges a hungover Yerim with a dramatic, “I'm literally dying!” 
 

That’s only when Seungwan notices she hadn’t spent the night alone in her room. Sprawled on the beanbag under the windowsill is a passed-out, lightly snoring Seulgi. Sooyoung cradles her in one arm with her head tossed back, emptying the contents of a water bottle down . Sluggish movements from Jennie and Chaeyoung can be heard from the living room.
 

How the hell did the entire circus end up in her dorm? 
 

Seungwan props herself up on aching elbows, already calculating exactly how many gallons of pancake mix she needs for the starving zoo around her. It’s truly comfortable to be in a whirlpool of blankets, and she’s actually too lazy to cook breakfast, but she knows if she doesn’t move in the next five seconds, Yerim will start banging literal pots and pans right in her earhole. 

With a resigned sigh, she pushes off the bed and stumbles past the little demon into the kitchen. “Yerim-ah,” she calls back, “go set the table.”

. . . . .

Seungwan wipes her hands on her apron and cups them around . “Come on, hurry up! Breakfast is gonna get cold!”
 

Groggy faces appear at the small coffee table, enticed by the buttermilk pancake stack and golden maple syrup. Seungwan can’t help laughing at how her friends crawl to her like babies, slurring their incoherent gratitude with half-shut eyes. Yerim ignores the cutlery she’d laid out and starts stuffing the food into with her hands. 

Seungwan hides a smile. It’s fun playing mother. 

“Thanks Wan!” Chaeyoung tucks in with vigour, shooting the chef a quick smile. “I feel better already.”

Grabbing her phone off the counter, Seungwan shakes her head at all the bottles that made their way home from the party to the living room floor. “Aish, you alcoholics… drinking and then coming crying to me for food. Should I call your mothers?” 

A wave of muffled grumbling tides over at the comment and Seulgi peers up from her plate. “You’re not eating?”

Seungwan merely shrugs. “Not hungry. And uh, my head isn’t helping.”

“But you barely…” Seulgi a brow but gets distracted by Sooyoung waving a souffle pancake-pierced fork in front of her face. They make stupid kissy faces as they share.

“Oi!” The tall girl turns to snap at Yerim. “That isn’t your juice, idiot!”

“Oops,” Yerim murmurs apologetically, reaching for Seulgi’s glass instead.

Seungwan drops onto the sofa with a thump. Two little robins are perched on the branch outside their window, drenched in the autumn morning. Their chirps catch her attention and she watches them, chest tightening when one cutely ruffles the other’s feathers.

At twenty-two, Seungwan thinks she should be nursing after-party hangovers like her friends, not her heart over some dumb senior. 

. . . . .

Just before class starts, Seungwan submits their paired assignment with downcast eyes. She’s not expecting a bad grade, it just feels like she’s handing away the best few weeks of her life, leaving their entire friendship on the professor’s desk. 

It feels like Joohyun was only nice to her because they were partners, but now they’re back to being just coursemates.

She can see Joohyun sitting with her friends in the back row with a deadpan expression frosted over her sharp features. Jennie visibly recoils as she’s bothered by their now shared little pest, Kim Yerim. Seungwan scoffs. Traitor. 

Jennie spots Seungwan and signals to the empty seat next to her, but Seungwan turns away and shuffles into an empty spot a few rows down. The sleep-deprived students repress a collective groan as their professor drags his feet to the chalk board with his grey suit and monochrome voice. It’s impossible to concentrate. Seungwan restlessly crinkles the corner of her notebook, sinking her attention into the inky characters staining beige grid paper. 

The party was an ugly surprise. Uni . Her relationship with Joohyun is uncharted waters, life completely blows right now.

She signs her unfinished notes with an apology and a promise to complete them when she doesn’t feel so unfocused. Ever since she was a child, Seungwan had always hated distractions. She would come home and immediately run upstairs to finish her homework before even eating. Bae Joohyun was the only distraction she didn’t mind, and now that her distraction is shutting her out completely, she feels oddly lost. Life before Joohyun was fine, so it should be fine now, even if her KaTalks are purposely left unread, and the seat across from her has been empty for the past two study sessions. 

She decides to stay true to herself and go straight home to bury herself in notes and exam revision, but just as she exits into the hallway, Seulgi and Sooyoung catch her with big waves and bright smiles. 

“Wan-ah,” Seulgi takes her hand, “let’s eat with Sooyoung and everyone.”

So much for that.

She peers over Seulgi’s shoulder when their friend groups meet after all their classes to discuss what food they’re in the mood for. Despite the deafening awkwardness, Seungwan tries to put on her best smile for a certain someone, but their eyes don’t even meet.

A growing hollowness gnaws at the pit of her stomach.

Goodbyes can’t come quick enough. The junior hastily leaves the rowdy cafeteria, running a hand through her hair in shame. They aren’t even dating for crying out loud. Why does it already feel like they’re having their first couple fight? Sighing, she checks the time on her phone. There’s another ten minutes before the campus pop-up shops close for the day, and she can think of no better way to alleviate the unwanted tension weighing on her. Breaking into a semi jog, the cherry blossom trees blur into her peripherals as the neon boba sign flashes clearer and clearer. 

The harsh concrete burns holes into the soles of her hazelnut Itno Sports Sneakers when she skids to a halt. The HanYang Student Association is set up next to the boba stall handing out club forms and eye-catching uni merch. It costs her her student email and contact details, but Seungwan’s grin widens as she accepts the token for signing up. Crouching down on the pavement, she swipes up to open the camera.

. . . . .

[7:45 p.m] Feeling her phone vibrate in her back pocket, Joohyun unthinkingly reaches to pull it out. 

. . .

She winces when she sees who it’s from. There are so many backed up messages that have stayed unopened for days, but this one is a video clip. The preview has a little thumbnail and that piques her curiosity. She squints hard to make out what it is, but eventually gives in and properly clicks into the message board. A small snowball of texts spam her screen and she ignores them to scroll down to the latest. 

The caption reads: Unnie, I don’t know if you’ll see this, but they were giving you out at the student club today.

Her thumb presses the play button. A clip of a completely infatuated Seungwan with a stupidly big white bunny hat sitting on her head begins playing. There’s no audio but it's obvious she’s giggling every time she makes the ears flip up one after the other. Joohyun can’t help the painful smile that breaks on her lips. Dumb dork, how are you so terribly clumsy and cute.

For a moment, the ground under her feet feels like clouds. But when everything crashes down again, she feels so much worse.