Moon Byulyi yanked the covers over her face, trying to hide from her leader. However, she knew that it was fruitless because they always gravitate towards each other like some sick idea of a joke. She could list a few fated encounters off her head: their first encounter; Kim Yongsun would overhear that she, another fellow trainee, needed high heels for the audition and proceeded to whip out the courage to offer her, a stranger, spare set of heels to her; on that same day, they were paired in a photoshoot as best friends, cementing their strange friendship; debuted as a group, MAMAMOO.

No matter how foolish her Yeba was, she was certain that she could find her if she needed to.

“Byulyi?” came her muffled and tired voice. Hands grasped the edge of the covers to lower it slowly.

Byulyi winced at the sharp light but she relaxed when a worried and tired Yongsun swam into view. The bright light above her head casted long shadows over her and gave her a strange halo.

Her heart raced at that glimpse of her splendour. So lovely. She could never deny how beautiful Yongsun was, although all she could see was her eyes and that familiar beauty mark on her brow.

“Ah, it’s really you.” She adjusted her mask slightly after studying her surroundings. “Are you feeling better?” Her tired voice strained with concern.

Byulyi caught herself, realising that she had been staring at her close friend for too long. It took her a while for her mind to register that her leader had asked her a question. “Yah.” She dropped the covers to her chest, turning to look away from her. Her voice was croaky from weariness and retching.

A nurse came by with the kidney dish to remove the needle from her right forearm. She gave them a lingering look, as if recognising them. “Miss Moon Byulyi?” asked the nurse, confirming her identity.

The rapper inclined her head as she extended her right arm to her. A tag was on her wrist for the healthcare professionals to identity her.

She glanced at the quiet woman standing next to patient.

“How are you related to the patient? She was accompanied by someone else.” The nurse frowned at her, studying the singer dressed in her nighties warily.

“Friend,” returned Yongsun, adjusting her mask to cover her face properly, hoping that the nurse did not recognise her.

Byulyi concurred crisply. “I know her.”

The gaze of the nurse vacillated between them for a moment.The nurse nodded to herself, satisfied with her answer and returned to her work of preparing her for discharge. Their gazes fell on the nurse who worked with skilled hands to remove the needle from the arm.

Yongsun paled when she slid the needle out of her arm, and it began to bleed. The nurse applied pressure on the wound with a gauze before replacing it with a band-aid. She snapped the gloves out of her hand and dumped everything into the kidney dish, finishing the procedure effortlessly.

Byulyi examined the wound and realised that the area around the wound was swollen and red. She assumed that it would turn purple soon.

“Miss Moon, you’re rather fair,” observed the nurse as she studied the wound site. “You can pick up Hirudoid cream at the drugstore if the bruise bothers you.”

“At any drugstore?” questioned Yongsun, placing a hand on the railing.

The nurse nodded. “It’s an over-the-counter drug. It should not be too difficult to get. I’ll let the doctor know that you’re ready to discharge, Miss Moon.”

The two women thanked the nurse as she took the kidney dish and headed off to the nurse counter.

Now, they were alone again.

She decided to lie on the bed and wait for the doctor. Despite her weariness, she could feel Yongsun’s gaze boring into her as silence stretched between them uncomfortably.

The rapper knew that she ought to be touched that her close friend would pick her up from the hospital, but she was troubled. There was that fight earlier in the day, the news that Yongsun was forced into WGM because of them, and the long practice.

Her temper escalated quickly.

“Unnie, did you drive here?”

“Huh?” She did not expect that as a greeting. She adjusted the mask on her face idly.

Byulyi’s brows furrowed as she lowered the brim of her cap to shield her eyes from the light.

Yongsun brushed her hair away from her face. “No, I called a cab.”

“What?” Her tone hitched with uninhibited anger. “You should be in bed,” snapped the rapper. She folded her arms across her chest threateningly. The very idea that the singer had stayed up for her instead of resting after a long day swathed her with worry. That worry acted as a catalyst for her rage and she could hear her heart pounding loudly in anger.

There was a long and uneasy pause.

“Are you seriously trying to pick a fight right now?” Warning laced her deceivingly-soft tone, sending the rapper’s senses ballistic. She did not need to look at her to know that her leader was seriously pissed.

“How will your presence help with anything?” snarled Byulyi under her breath before dropped into the bed and rolled away from her.

“You—”

Manager-nim hurried back into the ward, holding her medicines.

“We just need the doctor—”

“Why did you ask Yongsun-ssi to be here especially when you’re trying to quell the rumours of us with that bloody trick of forcing her into the show?” growled Byulyi heatedly, shooting up into a sitting position.

She knew that she was behaving like a brat, but she could not rein in the enraged monster in her chest.

“Moonbyul-ssi, that is no way to treat—"

“Yongsun-ssi, it’s OK.” He held his hand up in surrender, trying to calm them down. “I’m sorry. It didn’t cross my mind,” offered Manager-nim softly. “You know about it huh,” mumbled he, moping his brow with his hand. He had kept Yongsun, the leader of the group, updated of her condition. The older woman offered herself to take care of Byulyi when she heard of her need.

Byulyi merely folded her arm as she glared at the manager indignantly.

He rubbed the back of his head. “Byulyi-ssi, should I just drop you off at someone else’s place instead—”

“—Yes—”

“—No.”

“Moonbyul-ssi, that’s enough,” initiated Yongsun as she grabbed the rapper’s pointed chin and forced her to look at her directly.

The rapper’s eyes were bright with determination.

“Home. Manager-nim, please send me home,” decided Byulyi, holding Yongsun’s piercing gaze steadily, demonstrating her resolute. “I am sure you have the address of my family.”

“You’re so ridiculous!” snarled Yongsun as she backed away from her, her slippers slapping against the floor noisily. She withdrew her hand from her chin sharply as if it hurt to touch her. It took the leader a while to realise that she would rather trouble her parents by going home than to allow her to take care of her.

That sinking realisation gutted her.

Yongsun stepped forward automatically, her hand ready to hit her but she remembered that the bratty rapper was unwell. She let out a snarl, throwing her hands into the air, angry. She spun and stormed out of the ward, her footsteps thundering.

All the energy from Byulyi seeped out when the older woman left. Her small shoulders slumped, drained. She hated that she had to upset her intentionally, but it needed to be done.

“I’m sorry for taking that tone with you.” Byulyi inclined her head fully to show her regret.

Manager-nim waved her apology away knowingly. “You didn’t have to do that to Yongsun-ssi, Byulyi-ssi,” sighed the manager, shaking his head lightly. Sometimes, he did not understand the girls. “Yongsun-ssi was very worried about you. She contacted me immediately when she could not reach you.”

“What more would CEO-nim wants us to do if the allegations don’t dissipate?” asked Byulyi serenely, sounding very aged. “Your livelihoods depend on us.” She swung her legs out of the bed carefully, ensuring that she was still well.

The manager could only sigh. He was thankful that he was managing such understanding idols but sometimes, he wished that they were a bit more selfish. He knew that the members of MAMAMOO had experienced the unpleasant reality of being an idol, hence they were more considerate of the needs of the support staff.

Byulyi scrubbed her face with a hand wearily. “Unnie did not drive here. I doubt she would go home even though she was so upset,” mused the rapper. “Why don’t you check on her? It won’t be good for us if others knew that she was here.” He knew that she was referring to paparazzi. They may look like they enjoy some level of privacy but there were always eyes on them.

“Ok. What about you, Byulyi-ssi?”

She gave him a wry smile, adjusting her cap. “I’ll be here. The nurse has already informed the doctor that I am ready for discharge. I’ll wait for him.”

He nodded and checked his wristwatch. “I’ll be back.” He placed the medication on the chair before pursuing after Solar.

The doctor returned; hands stowed in his pockets. His face lighted up at the sight of her, sitting on the side of the bed restlessly. Dimples deepened as he smiled warmly at her and he looked awfully young. “Miss Moon, you look better now. Have you settled your living arrangements?”

“Yes, I’m returning home, Dr…?”

“Dr Kim Dopul.” The doctor leaned down to pick her trainers from the floor and handed them to her carefully.

Their gaze met for a moment.

“What?” asked Byulyi, astounded. “Are you really Kim Dopul?” asked Byulyi, her eyes wide with surprise.

He reached for his name tag and showed it to her for proof as she stuffed her feet into a shoe.

The surprise faded when she had proof of his name. Byulyi, unable to contain herself, howled with mirth, tumbling forward. If it wasn’t for Dr Kim grabbing her by her arms, she would have fallen off the bed as she roared in hearty laughter.

One of her trainers fell on the ground while she guffawed.

The doctor had to admit that seeing her nose crinkled adorably as she chuckled without reservation was a fetching sight. However, he could not help but be entertained. “Miss Moon, what is wrong with my name?”

Byulyi wiped the tears off her eyes as she regained her composure. Her nose crinkled as she smiled kindly. “My apologies, Dr Kim.” She inclined her head slightly. “There’s nothing wrong with your name, Dr Kim. Your name just reminded me of something funny.” She dropped her hands to her side carefully, maintaining a respectable distance. “Thank you, Dr Kim.”

Her gaze fell on her shoe on the ground. She cursed under her breath. How was she going to pick it up?

To her surprise, the doctor dropped to a bended knee to pick the shoe that she had dropped by accident and held it in front of her feet gallantly.

Her cheeks became red when she looked into his laughing eyes. “You don’t have to, Dr Kim.” She averted her gaze coyly, scratching the side of her face.

“How long shall I remain on my knee, Miss Moon?” teased the young doctor, offering the shoe again.

He had held the shoe at the height in which it was easy for her to slip her foot in. When she had slid her foot into the shoe, Dr Kim, with a frown of concentration on his face, pushed up the heel so that her feet fit snuggly.

A blush coloured her cheeks when she was reminded of the iconic scene of Prince Charming helping Cinderella into her glass shoe.

When he was satisfied that she had worn her shoes properly, the young doctor rose to his feet nimbly, a satisfied smile on his face. He headed to the basin to wash his hands properly before returning to her bed.

Byulyi scratched the side of her nose, unsure of how to respond to the overtures of the doctor.

“You’re still lightheaded,” explained Dr Kim calmly, stowing a hand into his pocket. “I don’t wish for you to fall just to put on your shoes. I don’t think you want to trouble one of these busy nurses just for your shoe.” He gestured airily to the hectic ward.

She inclined her head stiffly, staring at her shoes. “Now, I understand how my members feel,” muttered she absently. It was so awkward when he was so cheesy.

Dr Kim cleared his voice, putting his hands behind his back. “Why don’t you tell me that funny story behind my name as a form of gratitude?” probed the doctor, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

She rubbed the back of her neck absently as she met his gaze. “It isn’t much of a story, Dr Kim.” She cleared her voice, a finger on her chin. “My members and I were horsing around with OST of dramas and we decided to act out scenes based on the pieces of music played. It is a game we call ‘BGM novel’.” She paused, tucking her hair behind her ear. “One of my members created a fictional two-timer by the name of Kim Dopul in a love drama.”

He laughed, amused by the tale. “Kim Dopul the two-timer huh?”

“I was Kim Dopul,” laughed Byulyi, shaking her head lightly, her face soft with affection for the kids. “I don’t even know how my member came out with that name when my surname is Moon. It was quite funny when she demanded, ‘Kim Dopul, is it me or her?’” Byulyi chuckled warmly, her cheerful laughter filling the ward.

“You definitely,” smiled Dr Kim, without missing a beat. “Who could be more intriguing than you when you have this larger-than-life laughter of yours—"

“Huh? You don’t think it is unsightly?” asked Byulyi, flabbergasted.

Dr Kim was fascinated by her reply. “Is that why you usually cover your face with your hands when you laugh, Miss Moon?”

She nodded cautiously. “It’s public knowledge by now. I’m banned from chuckling in public.”

His eyes enlarged in disbelief as he shifted his weight between the balls of his feet. “That’s unfortunate, Miss Moon. You do have a genuinely nice laughter. It’s so sincere and modest.” His admiring gaze lingered on her for a while before he extended to take her right hand. “I shouldn’t take up too much of your time since it’s so late.” He reached for a scissor in his pocket and snipped the tag with her personal details from her wrist.

He stowed the tag and scissor away as his gaze stayed on her. “I hope you don’t find me too invasive, but I wouldn’t really like to have a drink with you.”

Byulyi opened to protest.

“When you’re well, of course, Miss Moon,” smiled the doctor reassuringly. He drew out his name card and pressed it on her palm. “Feel free to call me, Miss Moon. Anytime. I can offer personal consultation too,” winked Dr Kim.

“Isn’t that unprofessional?” snorted Byulyi.

“It isn’t unprofessional for me to offer medical advice,” smiled Dr Kim.

She did not know if it was because he was one of the few individuals that was so sincere in his compliments, but she found herself agreeing. “I’ll consider, Dr Kim.” She mustered as much sincerity as she could and held his gaze. “Thank you.” She slipped the card into the pocket of her sweatpants.

Dr Kim rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed. “Hope you recover swiftly, Miss Moon.” He bade her goodbye and headed to the nurse counter, whistling a happy tune. He reached a document shredder and shred Byulyi’s bracelet. It was better to get rid personal information of idols quickly. After his task was completed, he walked out into the corridor, a skip in his steps.

A petite woman bumped into him hard and marched away without apologising. He paused for a moment, frowning at her back for a moment before he waved it off. There were always caregivers who forgot their manners due to their anxiety.

Byulyi withdrew the name card and examined it when she was certain that the doctor had left the ward. She had expected Dr Kim Dopul to be a houseman, but he turned out to be a resident. She snorted to herself.

She returned the name card back to her pocket, feeling flattered that someone appreciated her smile. She traced the crinkle along her cheeks absently, wondering how he could be fascinated with the way she laughed.

The rapper tilted her head left and right to relax her muscles as she tried to wrap her mind around her situation. Someone tried to pick her up when she looked this awful? She ought to consider having that coffee with him since she would look and smell way better than her current state.

She shook her head lightly, amused. It did not feel as if the world was spinning. Byulyi grasped the railings at the side of the bed as she placed her feet on the floor and stood up.

No giddiness, that was good. She adjusted her cap again to shield her eye from the blinding lights of the hospital then she checked her medication: anti-nausea medicine and pain killers for her headache.

Now, all she had to do was to wait for the return of Manager-nim and Yongsun.

The rapper felt a penetrating gaze acutely. Rubbing her arms distractedly to sooth the rising goosebumps, she lifted her head and met Yongsun’s incensed gaze.

Huh?

Manager-nim trailed behind her, trying to give the idols as much space as possible. He wore an indescribable expression. Was it exasperation mixed with fear?

The older woman closed the distance ominously, sending shivers down her spine. “We’re heading home now,” asserted Kim Yongsun firmly. She took the crook of her arm roughly, silencing her protest with a formidable look. She leaned in carefully so that her lips were next to her ear, her hot breath fanning on the shell of her ear. “Don’t you dare make a scene, Moonbyul-ssi. We could be caught. We don’t want that to happen, do we?”

What kind of a monster did she unleash?

Byulyi frowned at her open threat, a part of her scared by this lethally furious side of Yongsun. Her anger was so potent that it was icy, like the calm before a storm. No, she was really scared of her. She admitted that she had infuriated her leader but not to this extent. She appeared to be more enraged for some odd reason.

The rapper held her tongue and allowed the older woman to guide her. The arm the leader s around her waist held her flushed against her leader like lovers. She even grasped the crook of her elbow with a punishing grip that Byulyi did not dare to shake off. Byulyi assumed that the leader would look very protective of her.

Yongsun led the terrified Byulyi to the carpark like a woman on mission. Manager-nim slipped into the driver seat and ignited the engine while Yongsun dragged her into the van and strapped her into the seat with jerky actions.

Byulyi did not dare to look at her, petrified. Her leader was a very rational woman which meant that there was a reason for her temper. She backpedalled her actions and words, trying to hunt for the reason for her fury. However, she could not think of any.

There was an incomprehensible tensed silence in the van, so charged that they were on the edge. Soon, they found themselves in a familiar neighbourhood—the district where Yongsun lived. She was shocked when Yongsun leaned over to undo her seat belt. She hopped out of the van and headed to her side to help her out of the ride.

“You’re coming with me, Moonbyul-ssi.” Her tone was icy-cold and brooked no protest when she extended a hand to her to take.

The rapper tensed, leaning away from her. “No, Solar-ssi, I am not.” She shook her head, her chin jutting with defiance.

“OK,” responded Yongsun, withdrawing her hand. She slung Byulyi’s bag over her shoulder idly.

The rapper’s brief feeling of triumph faded away when Yongsun leaned in and scooped her into her arms, one arm under her legs and a