--

Well, this is probably going to, if not already, will backfire. Problem is, it's too late to stop it, the gears of whatever train wreck are set too far into motion to backpedal. Taeyeon wants to blame herself, the girls, and a multitude of nameless people, but the thing is, word of mouth really is kind of a weird thing and a power of whatever magnitude has decided to step in to mess with her in particular. Curse whoever had said to give the people what they want, and the fact that the people wanted nostalgia. They're never the ones who have to pay the price, never on the receiving end of these awkward memories she has long decided to exile. But even still, she's sweating nervously, so much so, that her palms feel slick. She would soon probably begin to see sweat stains forming on the fabric of her jeans, having had wiped them countless times.

"Hi", Taeyeon practices in her head, then goes through the motion of deciding she's being stupid, which morphs into second guessing herself because of Stress! and Nerves! and (most importantly) History! She's too busy freaking out in her own head to notice that her guest had arrived. It's not a surprise that she then almost trips over anything and everything between herself and the door. She didn't mean for it to be this dramatic. Or at least it's not how she envisioned this would go down.

"Sorry you had to see that," Taeyeon tries, hesitant. Apologetic even and waits for the world to implode – the way it had the last time they were in this situation. She flashbacks to the two of them in that same place at the same time god knows how many years ago. Because really, no one else in that room mattered (or at least it had felt that way). 

Jessica laughs – a light, airy sound – and nothing changes in this moment. The ceiling doesn't collapse, the ground doesn't swallow her up and she isn't smited on the spot. Taeyeon sneaks in a moment between her breaths to really take Jessica in. Her eyes soak in the paint of time, holding onto the small things, like the way Jessica's hair was darker – darker than it has ever been – or the way her younger insecurities had seemed to be tempered by time into a self-assured calmness.

"A simple hello would have sufficed." Jessica says, maybe there is a hint of amusement in those deep brown eyes. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking on Taeyeon's part. "I was told so and so needed a singing partner. Or something like that. The brief was vague." Jessica says plainly, "In hindsight, maybe it was deliberate."  She looks at Taeyeon with a certain hint of suspicion too. "...you could've just called." Her voice is casual, nonchalant, but the undertone is coloured a shade of blue.

Taeyeon holds her breath. She's not... ready yet – doesn't know if or when she would ever be – and closes her mind off to considering those facts, thoughts and feelings. She pulls back instead, shaking her head and the palms of her hands up to the sky, deflecting the slight thrown her way. "I knew nothing of it. Had nothing to do with the process at all. Word of mouth is what they told me, reassured me even that I wouldn't have an issue with..." Taeyeon trails off, her eyes linger on Jessica's face.

Jessica raises an eyebrow. It's questioning—You sure, though? it says.

“This is fine, good—great even." Taeyeon nods for good measure, maybe a few too many times to be considered natural.

Jessica doesn't look entirely convinced but says nothing further.

Taeyeon sighs, resigning herself to their shared fate. “Let’s get this started then.”

The good thing: they couldn't break something that was already broken.

--

Taeyeon forgets how long it's been since Jessica's been on the other side of this great wall of silence – courtesy of SM and a large brick wall of legally binding text of course. The four walls of the building bear down on her with its ever present pressure, all work and professionalism, high standards and even higher expectations.

“…Looks different but still feels familiar." Jessica mumbles softly, and mostly to herself. She seems pensive. and taking this a lot better than Taeyeon thought she would. There’s none of the yelling that had lingered and echoed on for years in her ears.

There’s the sensation of being noticed and avoided simultaneously, younger trainees and idols ducking away with polite bows and mumbled greetings, scurrying away.

“Would be nice to not feel like I’m being measured up though. Even if it is only the harmless scrutiny of curiosity.”

Taeyeon frowns, wants to invoke her sunbae rights and scold them for their nosiness, but then thinks if she was in their shoes, she'd want to see this too, so she holds back.

They'd always been kind of a mystery together.

“You—we were part of something big. You’re like a walking legend around here.”  

“I feel more like the coming of a bad omen.” Jessica scoffs, “Given that I cease to exist outside of these four walls and all—it really detracts from it all.”

Taeyeon can't disagree. Her lips feel zipped tighter than any nondisclosure they’ve signed. She had tried too hard, having been the only one of the eight to really embody that rule beyond white walls and signed papers. Maybe, she feels the twisting of guilt for it.

They continue along down the hallway in heavy silence.

“We're here.”

The door to the meeting room opens into a wide expanse of space, so much so the glass floor to ceiling windows let in the surrounding city as well. It’s as much looking out as looking in and is suffocating and overwhelming in a dizzying sort of way.  

“Wow,” Jessica says, wandering over to the windows. “I think at one point we would’ve done anything for this view.” A hand is brought up to rest upon the glass panes. “…back when happiness was easy to come by.”

Taeyeon says nothing, just swallows back the surge of difficult feelings. Chokes out the pricks in her eyes and nose, vying for freedom. She stifles them the way air is suddenly suffocating to her lungs.

She turns away. Finds something else to preoccupy herself with.

Setting up her camera has never been something she finds easy or comfortable with. And despite all these years in the spotlight, she has never grown comfortable with being scrutinised through the filter of those cold impersonal lens. She fiddles absently with the settings, delaying the inevitable.

Jessica’s left the spot by the window and has come up to settle beside her.

“You aren’t used to this.” It's a statement, and coming from Jessica, it's as much an objective observation as it is a judgement.

She's right. It's reflected in the way Taeyeon's videos seem more like impromptu afterthoughts, a gift to fans and in the way her channel features other people and other faces as much as it does hers. Hidden under the name draping over the titles like old vines over a brick wall.

"It's alright though. Took me awhile to get back into it again. Time away from the spotlight felt precious, sacred even." Jessica admits.

Taeyeon cracks a small smile, maybe there's an element of sympathy. She remembers the hurtful words hurled carelessly at her. Cameras pointed intrusively into her life. Everything demanded of and owned by the public. They both had that trauma, collectively shared but lived out in separation.

She thinks of Jessica's videos – the consistent, well thought out introduction, the fancy editing – tattletale signs of an entire team's effort. Jessica never was one to just try something. There always was more heart