/

 

It’s a few months after the accident. Wendy is now able to walk without feeling pain in her hips and leg. She’s able to sing. She’s able to do light choreography. Everything seems normal. But at the same time, everything has changed.

 

“Unnie, are you sure you don’t want writing credits?” Yerim asks her, eyeing her curiously. “It’s a really good song and it’s a shame the people won’t know how good of a lyricist you are.”

 

Wendy only replies with a smile as she releases a breath.

 

They’re seated by the far end of the dimly lit practice room, a lone lamp illuminating the room. The whole place is usually enveloped by their laugher and energy, days on end that the five of them erred and perfected their choreography.

 

But today, it’s just her and their maknae with tons of lyrics sheets spread on the floor in front of them. These sheets of paper have pencil marks on them with endless notes and revisions as they try to come up with the combinations that will speak of its soul.

 

“I have plenty of chances to get writing credits,” she affirms, resting her back against the wall. Yerim gets up from lying flat on the floor and mirrors her position. “I only get to release these songs once.”

 

Her voice is deep and quiet, like they’re speaking of a secret so fragile that no one outside of this room can know.

 

“It’s not quite there yet, is it?” Yerim inquires, her attention now drawn to the lyric sheets in front of them.

 

“No,” Wendy sighs in frustration. It’s not quite there yet. Something is still lacking. She can’t figure it out. Neither can Yerim.

 

Wendy has lost count of how long they’ve been working on these songs. It feels like she’s singing about this all her life. But right now, they’re just words on a page. Two songs about a love she hopes she can one day speak about aloud. But now, all she can do is sing.

 

After all, that’s what she does best.

 

.

 

It’s 10 days after the accident. Three days since Wendy woke up fully lucid. Wendy tells herself she’s fine. I’m fine. I didn’t die.

 

Joohyun is quiet as she sits by the edge of Seungwan’s bed. Her expression has a certain heaviness to it, like she’s carrying the world on her shoulders.

 

Three days ago, after the doctor declared her clear to get visitors for a limited amount of time, Sooyoung and Yerim came to visit. She still couldn’t speak or fully open her left eye because of her injuries but she was awake enough to see the two girls struggling to keep it together.

 

The two youngest members of Red Velvet tried to keep it light, painted the room bright with their usual banter but it was easy to tell that they’re shaken up. Seeing Wendy lying there helpless, unable to move, speak, or even utter a single expression—it must’ve been a lot. Not that they would ever speak of that aloud.

 

They both know Wendy’s going through it a lot worse than they are.

 

The next day, Seulgi comes to visit.

 

Soon as she gets to the door and sees the state Wendy’s in, tears immediately fall from her eyes. Both her parents needed to calm the woman down. It took her time to pull herself together, to start talking about rehearsals, and backup plans.

 

If Wendy was able to speak, she’d tell her she’s happy that the label is planning to debut a unit in the absence of group activities.

 

Today, Joohyun is here, face is devoid of any emotion. She’s sitting by the edge of the bed, just looking at Seungwan. The woman in bed can only stare back, her jaw hasn’t fully healed yet so speaking is out of the question. Her back and left arm suffered severe injuries so moving is also not an option.

 

But Seungwan can move her other hand so she does. She uses her uninjured arm to reach out to the older woman. She holds her hand gently and clasps her hand as tight as she could. There’s no real grip there, Wendy still hasn’t recovered enough to have that kind of strength, but she tries.

 

It’s okay. We’ll be okay.

 

A few quiet moments pass and Joohyun finally speaks up, “Were you scared? When you fell—were you scared?”

 

Yes.

 

Joohyun knows she won’t get a response, so she just stares at Wendy’s face, taking in the sight of her, probably wishing her friend is well enough to get back to that same old blabbering mess that she was.

 

“Because I was,” is what she says next. “Manager-nim ran up to our dressing room and told us the news, told us to calm down, and I wanted to go to you. I wanted to check on you. But they said we’re leaving. They needed us out of that building before the news got out.”

 

Sooyoung narrated everything to her.

 

All the members knew was that Wendy got into an accident and everything after that happens fast. They were being pulled out of the show and are being driven back to the dorm where they’re told to stay put until further notice. That’s how they knew it was bad.

 

Sooyoung and Yerim kept up through social media while all Seulgi could do was tremble in worry. Sooyoung told her that Joohyun, as expected, was the only person who kept it together. She tried calling Wendy’s parents, Wendy’s sister, and basically everyone who she thought might have an idea of what’s going but to no avail.

 

They’d gone hours without any news about Wendy’s condition. It wasn’t until Wendy’s out of surgery that they got the full run down of what happened and even then, the shock didn’t wear off.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my whole life,” Joohyun says, tears now pooling in her eyes.

 

Wendy wants to tell her don’t cry; everything will be alright. But Wendy doesn’t know that. There’s no rulebook that tells you how to move on from an incident like this.

 

“They keep talking about contingency plans. They keep talking about how to be us without you and I don’t know—I can’t do that. I can’t imagine my whole life without you in it.”

 

Wendy thinks this is the most honest Joohyun has been about her feelings. But the words feel... exactly just that: words. Had Wendy not been in an accident, would she have said those words? Had she not almost lost Wendy, would she have the courage to say those words out loud?

 

No. Probably not.

 

“I’m sorry,” Joohyun sniffs. “I didn’t mean to make this all about me but I don’t know how else to tell you that I need you. I need you to come back to us. Nothing will be the same after this, but I need you.”

 

Of course, I will come back. Always. A thousand times.

 

.

 

It’s over six months after the accident. The doctor told her she’s free now. That she’s fully healed, that she can put that incident behind her. So, she tells everyone she’s fine. I’m fine. I’m less sad today, at least.

 

Never did Wendy think that she’ll ever be terrified of singing.

 

Singing is the one thing she knows she’s good at, the one thing she knows she can come back to again and again. The rehearsal room is her happy place. The recording studio is her second home.

 

But today, as she makes her way to the rehearsal studio after months of therapy and recovery, it all feels new. It’s as if she’s been stripped off of the countless hours she spent here in the past and now, she’s walking in blind. She’s not sure she still knows how to sing, or perform, or be herself.

 

All she knows is that she must pick herself up. Her therapist told her the other day that she has got to start somewhere. The therapist didn’t tell her where, just that she must start somewhere.

 

So she starts here, at the rehearsal studio.

 

“This is so unusual,” Wendy remarks as she makes her way to the couch, her crutches moving perfectly in sync with her. It wasn’t easy to learn how to walk around in a pair of crutches and it took her awhile to be perfectly comfortable with them but she did.

 

It’s not like she had any choice.

 

“I’m so glad to see you’re out of the house,” Seulgi grins, her eye smile reaching the ends of the earth. It took Seulgi months to learn how to stop crying when she sees Wendy post-accident but the main singer is glad her best friend eventually learned how to look at her without falling apart. The members a lot about it.

 

Seulgi-yah, you’re doing worse than Seungwan.

 

Seulgi-yah, I can do this. I can open that can of soda on my own.

 

Seulgi is soft and caring, and undeserving of any bad things in this world; and Wendy, for the life of her, will never understand why they crossed paths but she’s glad they did. We all need someone to paint our days bright when the weather is especially gloomy.

 

“What’s she doing here?” Wendy asks smilingly, eyeing the familiar cat-eyed superstar sitting next to Seulgi.

 

“I was touring the Café,” Jennie kids and then gives Wendy a wink.

 

“Moral support,” Seulgi replies.

 

Wendy bobs her head, her expression asking for clarification, “For me?”

 

Jennie cackles, “For her.” She points at Seulgi, “Literally called me and said, hold my hand if I start crying.”

 

Wendy laughs along, secretly thankful for Seulgi’s thoughtfulness. It’s her first day back to vocal rehearsals. None of the members know about it except for Seulgi. She wanted to keep it a secret but she didn’t want to go through it alone.

 

Jennie is a good friend, a kind soul that Wendy knows will help her through this. Or she will help Seulgi—well, she’ll help whoever between them breaks first.

 

“Where should we start?” Jennie asks. “Should I start getting ambitious and sing that pre-chorus in Psycho?”

 

Red Velvet’s main vocalist laughs at that, shaking her head, “Let’s warm up first?”

 

“Sure, it’s your call.”

 

What was supposed to be a one-time thing became a weekly thing. They’d meet up twice a week. Some days, Seulgi would leave her and Jennie alone, allowing the two women from different groups to form a unique bond.

 

If Wendy’s going to be honest, she thinks Seulgi has set them up.

 

She doesn’t understand why she picked Jennie out of the many idols they knew but something about it makes sense. Jennie and Wendy weren’t exactly close before but there’s always been this weird energy between them, an untapped tension that formed ever since their groups started hanging out.

 

I know what you’re doing, Seul. Stop it. Now is not the time.

 

You can’t forever reserve a place in your life for someone who’s never gonna be ready to be in it. Life is too long to live like that.

 

And you think Jennie is ready to be in my life?

 

I don’t think she’d show up if she wasn’t.

 

.

 

Four months after the accident, Wendy is still learning.

 

If there’s anything she picked up from all of this, it’s that recovery isn’t a one-time thing. You don’t just wake up one day and realize that the pain is gone. It’s been weeks since she got out of the hospital but parts of her still ache from time to time.

 

Her hips, back, and sometimes her leg still sting either from the injuries or—most probably—from being on bed for days too long. But that’s not the worst part.

 

The worst part is closing your eyes and suddenly you’re back to that fateful day. Suddenly, she’s floating on air with eyes wide open, about to hit the ground with a loud thud.

 

Sometimes, she still hears it—the loud sound her body makes when she hits the floor. She hears it in her sleep. She hears it when she’s awake. Sometimes, she’s convinced she’s going crazy but her therapist talked to her about trauma. And how sometimes, all it does is stay with you and remind you that you’re not whole.

 

“What do you think?” she hears Joohyun ask her, a warm smile plastered on her face.

 

Wendy takes the AirPods out of her ears as she turns to the older woman, “It’s nice. It’s catchy. I bet the choreography is complicated.”

 

Irene hits the stop button on her phone as she stands and crosses the room. She walks the short distance between the couch and Wendy’s bed, her steps slow and careful. Wendy has just come home from therapy and her body is still sore from the work she had to do.

 

When she got home, Irene is there, cooking lunch with her mom.

 

Joohyun says she’s there to let Wendy hear their unit debut song but Wendy’s mind has tricked her into believing it’s something more. Maybe, Joohyun misses her.

 

Maybe, Joohyun misses her, too.

 

“The choreography is hell,” Irene groans as she sits by the edge of Wendy’s bed. Wendy flinches ever so slightly, alarmed at how natural it is for the older woman to get into Wendy’s space. They’ve been doing this all their lives but something is different now.

 

Joohyun gently grabs her feet by the ankles and puts them over her lap. “Can I do this?” Joohyun asks as she softly massages Wendy’s feet.

 

“That’s fine,” Wendy allows her and she sees her smile for just a bit. She seems content.

 

Silence embraces the room for a moment, only the sound of the air purifier could be heard as it softly hums along with the mild whir of the air conditioner.

 

Wendy’s room in her parents’ home is ample. Big enough for a bed, a couch, a walk-in closet, and a vanity. Yet, with Joohyun there it feels so small. Like Joohyun is just right there, that she could reach out to her and just hold her in an instant.

 

But Wendy doesn’t because friends don’t do that.

 

“I don’t know how to do this unit thing,” Joohyun admits quietly.

 

There’s an uncertainty in her voice that Wendy’s never heard from her. Sure, their leader is oftentimes nervous, oftentimes anxious about everything but she’s never uncertain. She’s strong, brave, and every single thing that Wendy could never be.

 

Joohyun keeps her eyes on Wendy’s feet, massaging them lightly. It doesn’t really do anything to help with the soreness but Joohyun’s hands are warm, a reminder that she’s not in this alone. That no matter what, Joohyun is there with her.

 

“What do you mean?” Wendy asks.

 

Joohyun looks up, “I don’t know how to be on stage without you.”

 

A lump forms in Wendy’s throat, taken aback by the look she sees in Joohyun’s eyes. It’s not quite fear. It’s not quite sadness. It’s something else. Wendy can’t put a name on it.

 

“I’m just here, Hyun,” she reassures her. It’s the only thing she can do. “I’m not on that stage with you but I’m here. I’m going to watch every performance, every interview—and I’m not there. But I’m here. Just like I always have. Just here.”

 

There’s weight to her words, a promise she makes more to herself than Joohyun. She’s here. She’s always going to be here.

 

Weeks later, when the music video drops and Irene and Seulgi’s faces are inches apart, she tells herself these words out loud: I’m here.

 

I’m here. I haven’t disappeared.

 

She repeats it in her head multiple times until her body starts to believe it.

 

What do you think of the performance? Joohyun asks her via a text message.

 

You two were great, Hyun. A match made in heaven.

 

It wasn’t exactly a lie.

 

But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt a little.

 

.

 

One full year later, Wendy is only realizing that the world has moved on without her. Her therapist tells her that she should stop counting days backward. She doesn’t know how to do that.

 

Taeyeon comes with her to physical therapy one day.

 

The older woman watches quietly as Wendy works with her therapist in the pool. Their blossoming friendship is one of the few good things that came out of that accident. The sunbae was one of the first people who came to visit her and one of the very few people who saw her cry in the middle of the night as she lies in a hospital bed for the fourth straight week.

 

Therapy is scary and grueling, and traumatic. It’s like voluntarily asking to get reminded of that day, as if her scars aren’t reminders enough.

 

She can’t bear to go there alone. She can’t take her parents because despite their good relationship, Wendy couldn’t take the idea that her parents will see her like this: helpless and completely broken. She can’t take the members either because that would be hell, more for her than for them.

 

So, she asks Taeyeon to come with her. They’re friends but they’re not that kind of friends. It’s not weird. It’s not awkward. It’s also not heartbreaking.

 

Taeyeon is not Joohyun. But at least she isn’t alone.

 

Therapy has been light in recent weeks, just focusing on getting her mobility back to a hundred percent. Wendy doesn’t think she can ever perform without images of that day flashing behind her eyes but she pushes through.

 

It’s all any of us can do at the end of the day.

 

“How’s the album coming along?” Taeyeon asks as they sit by a secluded local restaurant just a few blocks from the aquatic therapy center.

 

“Slow,” Wendy responds, giving the woman a sad smile.

 

“Did you write the songs?”

 

“Two of them,” she replies. “I can’t figure out what’s missing. Yerim and I have been revising the words over and over but it’s not working.”

 

Wendy waits for a response, perhaps some tips but Taeyeon doesn’t say anything. Instead, she looks lost in thought. So, Wendy doesn’t prod.

 

Their food arrives and the older woman focuses on the stories of her solo career. She says that debuting solo was scary. But it’s the following moments that helped shaped her career.

 

When you know you can exist in a place without your co-members, it becomes a whole different game. You’ll learn about yourself a lot. Sometimes, that requires shedding some old skin.

 

Wendy doesn’t know if she understands that or not but she remembers every word. Something in her gut tells her she’s gonna need them later.

 

Taeyeon drives her to the dorm. She decides to spend the night there, to try and slowly get her back to normalcy with the rest of the group.

 

Wendy wouldn’t say she’s avoiding them. In fact, she thinks they’re closer now more than ever. After all, they were all there for her after that life-changing incident.

 

But sometimes, she feels like the members are treating her like she’s gonna break any time. And there’s nothing scarier than to think that nothing has changed when everything obviously has.

 

As the car pulls up by the driveway, the door to the dorm immediately swings open. Then out comes Joohyun in her most comfortable pair of sweats, running toward the car with a huge smile on her place.

 

It makes Wendy smile, almost like reflex.

 

“Perhaps, you’re looking in the wrong places,” Taeyeon muses before Wendy could exit the vehicle.

 

“What?”

 

“Your songs,” she clarifies. “You could revise it a hundred more times but that’s not what needs to be done.”

 

“What should I do?”

 

“You need to let them know.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Whoever you wrote it for—tell ‘em before you tell the world. Trust me, I’ve been there.”

 

Before Wendy could respond, the door to the passenger seat swings open and suddenly, she’s being engulfed in a big hug.

 

Bae Joohyun is clinging to her as if her life depended on it. The familiar smell of her shampoo hits Wendy’s senses in this addicting way and for a second there, it consumes her.

 

“Seungwan,” the other woman breathes.

 

“Joohyun.”

 

“How was therapy?”

 

“It was fine.”

 

.

 

One year and two months later, she finds herself smiling. In isolation, she often wondered how love looks like. On Irene. On Seulgi. On Jennie. She didn’t realize the answer has been in front of her all along.

 

“You wrote them?” Jennie probes after hearing the songs.

 

Wendy nods, “Tons of help from our producers but yes.”

 

“They’re great. Raw, even,” the other woman says. “It makes a lot of sense that you’re debuting with this type of music.”

 

“Right?” Wendy mutters. “Everyone keeps telling me I should do RNB but I think I got tons of time to do that. I only get to debut once as a solo act. I want it to be… I don’t know—”

 

“You?”

 

“Yeah,” Wendy bobs her head. “I want it to be me.”

 

“Is this the final version?”

 

“No, I don’t think so.”

 

“Have your members heard it yet?”

 

“Just Seulgi.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It’s not yet complete. Something’s still missing.”

 

“Figures.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“You know that Adele song? If I tell the world, I’ll never say enough ‘cause it was not said to you.”

 

Wendy chuckles and then hums the familiar song. She thinks she knows what Jennie is hinting at but she doesn’t say anything.

 

“Oh come on, Wannie,” Jennie quips. “We can’t play this game forever. Everyone and their mothers know you’re, like, in love with Joohyun.”

 

Wendy turns to her so fast, it might’ve given her whiplash.

 

Jennie laughs, “Your face!”

 

“That’s not—”

 

“If you’re going to tell me I’m wrong, I’m going to beat you up.”

 

Wendy laughs, “I was going to say, it’s not going to happen.”

 

“What is?”

 

“Telling her,” Wendy answers. “Telling her means I’m asking for something in return—which I’m not. I know what the situation is.”

 

“So, you’ll just sing about it?”

 

“For as long as I could.”

 

“Then you’re robbing yourself of the chance to sing about something else.”

 

Wendy only looks at the other woman.

 

“You tell her and you go from there. Then, you can sing about something else. Someone else.”

 

“You mean you?” Wendy teases.

 

Jennie chuckles, “I actually meant someone else, really. But go ahead and write a song about me, I won’t complain. Maybe, I’ll write a song about you, too.”

 

Wendy quirks an eyebrow.

 

“Maybe, I already have.”

 

.

 

She stops counting days backward. Now, she has exactly four weeks before she debuts as a soloist. It’s a new countdown. Everything is different. But somehow, everything is the same.

 

The group chat blows up when Wendy sends them all the songs.

 

Due to time constraints, they went with the version that Wendy felt right the most about and decided they now have the final version.

 

The group chat quiets for a moment after a few messages of omg I’m going to listen now and after a few minutes, they’re all gushing.

 

These are great unnie, it suits your voice so well.

 

I don’t think there will be any doubt after this, unnie. You are the main singer of this generation.

 

Why am I in tears?

 

Sooyoung, Yerim, and Seulgi’s kind words are comforting but Joohyun’s silence is deafening. Later, when she gets ready for bed, she receives a message from the woman in question.

 

You scare me, Seungwan. How you could decide to just sing and leave us all behind. Your album has you written all over it. I am happy for you.

 

Seungwan doesn’t know how to respond, doesn’t know what to feel. She sends her a heart emoji instead, unable to find the right words to say.

 

Taeyeon’s message comes next.

 

Like Water and Why Can’t You Love Me – that’s not subtle at all.

 

Then, Jennie’s.

 

I could come over there and kiss you but it would be wrong. ‘We complete each other and comfort one another’? I can’t possibly compete with that.

 

She calls Jennie, invites her for a meal, and they spend the night together watching sappy movies on Netflix. In a way, it heals her to have Jennie around, someone who’s there for her without any agenda.

 

It’s selfish, really, but who’s not willing to be a little selfish if only to feel a little happy?

 

.

 

Two weeks before her debut, a volcano turns them all to dust.

 

The day of the music video shoot rolls around and her four co-members decided to show up. They hype her up, take pictures of her, and even from time-to-time.

 

Everything feels normal, just like nothing has changed—which is why Wendy knows this is all too good to be true.

 

She observes the way she and Joohyun interact around each other. Ever since she had the girls listen to the songs, Joohyun hasn’t said much to her. She’d even go as far as saying the older woman is avoiding her.

 

Sometimes, she would catch her looking at her and when she does, Joohyun would always look away, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

 

After a few hours, as the real grind of the shoot happens, Sooyoung, Seulgi, and Yerim leave but Joohyun stays behind. She approaches Wendy as the vocalist takes a break after a long set.

 

“You feeling okay?” Joohyun asks with a small smile.

 

“Just a bit sore from all the standing,” Wendy replies, then she decides to go for it. “Are we okay?” she asks, feeling that pinch in her heart that’s so unique to Joohyun.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Wendy shrugs, “I don’t know. You’ve been weird around me.”

 

“That’s not true.”

 

“I’m not gonna break, you know.”

 

Joohyun doesn’t say anything. Instead, she just looks at Wendy with a pained expression. It’s like she has a lot on her mind but she doesn’t want to let Wendy in on it.

 

“It’s been a whole year and I’m doing good. I don’t feel pain when I move my legs or my hips. I don’t feel pain when I eat. I’m less terrified of tall stages now. I feel like I am slowly coming back to myself and I don’t know what that means but this is the first time in a really long time that I felt like I’m me,” she states in one breath, her heart threatening to jump out if its cage. “Like I’m the me that you almost lost but for some miracle, you didn’t.”

 

Joohyun’s stare intensifies, like she’s a hair away from breaking apart. Wendy thinks of her as a volcano, calm on the outside but the inside is a different story. When she erupts, she has the power to burn a whole town into ashes.

 

“So, you can be you with me. I’m not gonna fall apart. I don’t need you to be on standby in case I need to be put back together.”

 

Then it happens, Joohyun smirks—a cold, bitter smirk that sends a shiver down Wendy’s spine. This is it.

 

“That’s the thing, Seungwan,” she starts, her voice low but firm. “You don’t need me.”

 

“What—”

 

“You’ve fought your battles alone ever since you got into recovery and I don’t think you know. You’re in front of me right now but it feels like you’re so, so far away,” she reasons, her voice shaking mid-sentence.

 

The room is quiet, like something is about to die.

 

Wendy is rendered speechless, unable to understand where Joohyun is coming from. So, the older girl continues, “You refused to ask me to come with you to therapy. You didn’t tell me you were rehearsing again. You didn’t let me know when you started dancing again. You asked Jennie to accompany you to vocal rehearsals. There was a time when I was the one you would’ve called for all of that but you changed your mind and somehow—somehow, you forgot about me.”

 

It hits Wendy all at once, and the truth is so harsh that Wendy can’t find the courage to respond.

 

Joohyun’s expression never falters despite the tears b in her eyes, “Never once did you ask me to help you up when you were in crutches—and God, I’m so proud of how much you’ve endured, of how much you’ve come back from but Wan—”

 

Wendy thinks this is it—the volcano is about to spit fire.

 

“—when someone makes you feel like you don’t need them, you start believing it at one point.”

 

Then, Joohyun’s tears start falling—and Wendy suddenly feels the events of the past year come back to haunt her.

 

“Joohyun, I’m—”

 

“Don’t apologize, Seungwan. I’m not mad,” she clarifies as she stands up and uses the back of her hand to wipe the tears off her face. “I just wasn’t used to it.”

 

“To what?”

“To you not needing me,” the girl stands up and turns, grabbing her purse from the top of the vanity. “It’s been you and me for God knows how long and I don’t know when things started to change but it did.”

 

The older woman makes a move to leave.

 

“Hyun, don’t leave.”

 

“I need a moment.”

 

“O-okay,” Wendy admits defeat.

 

It’s the first time she does so.

 

.

 

Today, Wendy stops counting backward and forward. She only has today to be the person she’s always been.

 

She debuts as a soloist today. Yet, she finds herself at Joohyun’s doorstep hours before the live show.

 

“What are you doing here?” Joohyun’s eyes are wide but she seems delighted as she pulls the door open. “You’re supposed to be getting ready.”

 

Wendy nods frantically as she steps inside the woman’s room and hastily closes the door behind her, “I won’t be long.”

 

Joohyun only stares at her and it makes Wendy’s hand shake.

 

“I learned a lot of things the past year,” she starts.

 

“Okay?”

 

“I don’t think I ever purposely pushed you away,” she states. “I wanted to be whole. I wanted to be okay so I can be the Wendy you knew before it all.”

 

“It’s okay to change, Wan.”

 

“I know that but I didn’t want to—because the me before all of that held it together better than the me in recovery. Wendy in recovery had all these feelings and she’s vulnerable, and she’s scary because she doesn’t think anything can hurt her anymore.”

 

Joohyun stays silent. Perhaps, part of her knows where this is going.

 

Wendy continues, “I didn’t want you to see me like that because then—then—I’d—”

 

The older woman holds her breath, anticipating what she knows is about to come. Wendy swallows a lump in .

 

Seasons have come by and a full year has passed—and she’s only realizing now that she’s still the same person. Scarred and vulnerable but she’s still her. Still hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with the very woman in front of her.

 

“If I’d let you in when I didn’t feel like me, then I’d break. There was nothing in the world I wanted than to call you and hold you close when I was confined at the hospital for eight straight weeks—and multiple times I almost called you. It took everything in me to not pick up the phone and tell you how much I needed you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I’d end up spilling my guts and that’s not good. It’s irresponsible. I can’t tell you the truth when I’m down because then you’d say you feel the same because you pity me.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“I’m in love with you. I don’t know when or how it started but I am, and I can’t remember a time in the last few years that I’m not,” Wendy blurts out, the words rolling out of her tongue in a way she couldn’t have practiced. “I know you don’t feel the same way but I’m sure you’ve always wondered so here, I’m telling you now.”

 

Joohyun doesn’t gasp. She doesn’t say a word. She merely stares.

 

“I’m telling you now because I wrote two songs about you—and I think you know what they are. I just can’t go out there and sing for all the world to see without telling you first.”

 

Silence envelopes the room. It envelopes Wendy’s mind, too—a rare moment of peace that settles amongst the chaos. She feels her heart rest, feels her heart stop running at the idea of Joohyun.

 

“I gotta go,” she bids goodbye after a few seconds.

 

“Seungwan, I—” Joohyun hesitates. “Will you call me? Later, after the showcase.”

 

“Of course. We’re celebrating my debut, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Seungwan drives to the studio and on the way she plays her own songs.

 

This time they sound right.

 

This time, they sound complete.

 

.

 

You were so awkward. You couldn’t stop talking. This is the first text message she sees after the showcase. It’s from Jennie.

 

Was I that bad?

 

You were okay. I’d tell you you’re cute but that’s not gonna make you like me back.

 

You scare me, Jennie Kim.

 

How do you think you make me feel?

 

Wendy’s heart flutters at the way Jennie is so open, so comfortable with her feelings. She wishes she had that strength. She also wishes she liked her back enough.

 

Her phone rings and to no surprise, it’s Jennie.

 

“Hey,” Wendy picks up amidst a swirl of staff congratulating her.

 

“Hey, somebody wants to congratulate you—” she hears from the other line, followed by a loud, cheerful greeting. “Unnie! Congratulations! Please send me a signed version. The one with the flowers!”

 

It’s Chaeyoung.

 

Wendy laughs and was almost going to respond when she hears Jennie’s voice again, “Lisa and Jisoo aren’t here but they’re wilding in the group chat.”

 

“Please tell them I’m thankful. I’ll send you girls a copy.”

 

“The one with the flowers?”

 

“The one with the flowers.”

 

“Right—anyway, I don’t wanna keep you. I’m sure your phone is blowing up. I just wanted to say congratulations.”

 

“Thank you, Jen.”

 

“You told her, didn’t you?”

 

“Yeah—earlier today, I told her. How did you know?”

 

“She called me.”

 

Oh.

 

Jennie chuckles, “I render you speechless a lot, I should make a career out of it.”

 

Wendy rolls her eyes good-naturedly, “Shut up—what did she say?”

 

“She asked if we were a thing.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Oh? Why oh?”

 

“I just don’t understand why she didn’t ask me.”

 

“Did you give her a chance to speak?”

 

Oh.

 

The woman from the other line laughs, “There it is. Well, anyway—I told her I wish we were a thing and then she just laughed. You two have a lot to talk about. Just promise me one thing.”

 

“And what is that?”

 

“That if you write a song about me, you’ll tell me. And get me to feature in it.”

 

Wendy only laughs at this, secretly wondering what she did to deserve someone like Jennie.

 

.

 

That night, the party at the Red Velvet dorm winds down late.

 

Seulgi, Sooyoung, and Yerim are all trying to belt out to the songs, their drunken voices pretty far from their on-stage persona. Wendy, on the other hand, didn’t drink. She has a lot to do tomorrow so she needs her strength and full attention.

 

Joohyun, on the other hand, didn’t leave her side the entire night. Yerim even shouted once: Our parents are back together, Sooyoung-unnie and Seulgi-unnie. We don’t get to have two birthday celebrations anymore.

 

“How are you dealing with all this?” Joohyun asks her as they sit by the living room. Their three other members are huddled by the kitchen, munching on meat that Joohyun cooked earlier.

 

“It’s overwhelming but oddly satisfying. You know what I’m saying?” Wendy responds, a smile escaping her lips.

 

“I get it.”

 

“I’m sorry for ambushing you earlier. I didn’t mean to—”

 

“Stop apologizing, Seungwan. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“You’re so nice,” Wendy chuckles, a blush coloring her cheeks.

 

“Can I say something now, though?”

 

Wendy turns to her and sees the woman’s expression slightly change. “I’ve been me my whole life,” she states. “I’ve been this Joohyun, this Irene my whole life—and it’s hard to peel myself away from this when it’s the only thing I know.”

 

Wendy doesn’t think she fully understands what the other woman is saying. But she knows this is about the confession.

 

“Joohyun, I’m not expecting anything from—”

 

“Seungwan, just let me speak?” Joohyun asks with a smile.

 

“I’m sorry—”

 

“When you confessed earlier today, it was obvious that you’re done processing how these feelings change you; how these feelings affect you. I haven’t got the time to do that. All I know for now is that I’m me and being me comes with a set of expectations. And having these feelings is not part of the version of myself that I’ve learned to fully embrace.”

 

Wendy perks up on her seat. Is she saying what she thinks Joohyun is saying?

 

“I am yet to be at peace with a part of my heart that will forever hold a place for you. I have to be at peace with the truth that I am not the person I planned to be—that I am so much more than I ever pictured myself to be because that’s how you’ve always made me feel. That I’m enough, and also somehow, more.”

 

“Joohyun, I—”

 

“All I’m asking for, I guess, is time,” she says, turning to Seungwan and meeting her eyes. “I’m not sure of a lot of things right now and sitting here is the most terrifying experience I’ve ever had to subject myself to but I’m sure of one thing. I’m sure of you and how I feel about you.”

 

“Oh—”

 

“I’m sure that I want to be someone you run to and not someone you run away from. I want to be the person you call when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when life is hard—when life is good. I want to be that person for you because you’re it for me. You’re my person. It took me a while to fully accept it but I got here, didn’t I? I want the next song you’ll write about me to be a song about love.”

 

Wendy has always wondered how love looks like on Joohyun, always wondered how it feels like to be the person who she reserves that smile for.

 

She’s always wondered how it would be like to be the person Joohyun loves, to be someone who gets to see Joohyun in her highs and in her lows.

 

She’s wondered for so long that she failed to realize that it’s been right in front of her all along—that it’s been Joohyun and Seungwan for the longest time and it’s funny, isn’t it? To have all the facts laid out in front of you, to have it all happen right before your eyes, and somehow still jump to the wrong conclusion.

 

“I just need time to accept that I am not the person I intended to be. Don’t give up on me, Seungwan.”

 

Today, Wendy is still learning.

 

I’m fine.

 

I’m happy.

 

I have time.

 

“Okay,” is what she says. She grabs Joohyun’s hand and interlaces their fingers, a simple act that speaks volumes. “We have time.”

 

We’ll be okay.

 

Years later, she writes an entire album full of love songs that sound just right.

 

/