It’s funny. How Hyejin is so bad in love, always a loser, it starts getting funny. A joke among them.

She rings the bell for another drink, tries not the meet the sympathetic gaze the owner sends her way, and fails spectacularly. A sad smile on the old woman’s lips.

“I’m sorry, for whatever happened to you.”

“It’s fine, ma’am.”, Hyejin said, chucked down the glass of soju in one drink. “After all, it’s just me.”

Me. My fault. My false expectation in her.

She should’ve known better.

The owner slides the door close, and the wall behind her is the only reason she isn’t on the floor sobbing. Yet. But what’s stopping her, anyway?

Not that Yongsun will come barging in this restaurant and scold her or anything.

So Hyejin lays down, her body arches in an uncomfortable way, with legs under the short table and upper part almost make a 90 degrees angle. She will get backache in the morning.

She doesn’t care as much.

Ear pressed on hardwood, she listens to the breath of life around her. The quiet hum of smoke consumers running day and night in this place, the footsteps of waiters and waitresses, someone shouts something inaudible outside. The fire cracking, bubbles breaking in her tokbokki soup, which Hyejin knows will be left untouched for the time being.

She wonders if Yongsun ever misses this place. Where they spent that cold, dreadful winter together, didn’t complain a word about holes on paper walls around, letting wind came in, uninvited, forced them to curl up at the corner of the room, both shaking and laughing for no specific reason, hand over hand to warm up. The place that has observed every lover in Hyejin’s life. Every lover, and Yongsun.

But not everyone resembles Yongsun.

Hyejin enjoys midnight dining, probably more than she should. With guys she dates, she always asks them for a late meal, around 2AM, somewhere after two months of being in the relationship. The latest lover, ex-lover, stirred in his sleep, pulled Hyejin closer in his embrace and murmured, a hint of annoyance in his voice, about the regret she would carry when the Sun is up if she had snacks at this wee hour, or she could just call the delivery, wasn’t their country so famous for that?

She realized she didn’t like his arms as much as she’d thought.

She didn’t break up with him for a late meal, as he had so passionately shouted in her face, an unpleasant sight before she called the guard. It’s just a factor, in a relationship that had already gone wrong in many ways.

He didn’t get it. He isn’t Yongsun.

Yongsun just knows, from the first time the maknae woke her up when the clock counted at quarter past one in the morning, lips beside her ear as if they were opening a Pandora box.

“Unnie, do you want some tokbokki?”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure, why not.”, she yawned, crawled up from the floor mattress.

Actually, Yongsun didn’t want any tokbokki, or food after 8. They had an evaluation a week from then, conscious-her would kill them both if they gained any weight. But for now, when it passed 12 and their bodies aching from too much practice, Hyejin kept tossing and turning for the whole night, it must be not too bad to stop being Yong-leader for awhile.

What Hyejin wanted wasn’t a meal.

She wanted to sit on creaky floorboard that was easily tens of years older than her. They always walked in the restaurant holding hands, greeted by the owner’s kind smile before she told them she always kept the usual room available for the duo after 10. They never ordered the same menu. Hyejin liked flicking over the menu covered by grease and fingerprints from other customers, while Yongsun wiped chopsticks and spoons clean, let Hyejin decides. The maknae would say she wants this, and wants that, but she shouldn’t eat too much. Eventually, Yongsun reached across the table, scribbled both dishes to the paper. They can share, the older shrugged, every time Hyejin stared at her scandalously, an amusing, feline-like smile on her lips. But she knew Hyejin only waited for her to do that. Hyejin knew she knew.

They cheered over the hotpot, even if that was the hundredth time they order it. The smoke blocked Hyejin from watching Yongsun puffed her cheeks with veggies and beef. Sometimes they drank, if Hyejin felt like it, or if Yongsun had a grim day. They saved each other’s number as emergency contact, just in case one had schedules when the other determined to drink the world under the table somewhere.

Hyejin still does. Has Yongsun as her emergency.

She doesn’t know if Yongsun does.

The two were more silent than everyone thought they would. Yongsun had an acute sense of hearing, she mentioned how the person next room just went through a breakup, or how the waiter almost tripped in the kitchen, bits of mundane stories like that, during the meal. They always made sure to leave encouraging words on the bill before leaving if needed.

After late nights, back then, Hyejin loved, loves, snuggling in Yongsun’s arms. Didn’t have to say a word. They transferred from the ambiance of the aged diner to the similar ambiance of their tiny room, with the worse heat control and worse space. Hyejin laid her head on the leader’s chest, watched the high buildings over the small window. Yongsun scratched her head, hummed some notes later will be songs. When they can be much more famous than they were.

Byulyi and Wheein never get to hear the story, of their late nights.

But when Hyejin has more than enough money to live in a spectacular apartment high above and Yongsun has many songs written from her idle hum, they barely come to the diner together, again. Because of schedules, and their reputation, and “Hey, I’m with Byulie, you wanna come by?”.

--

She caught Yongsun kissed Byulyi in the bathroom, before one of these festivals.

She knew she wasn’t supposed to see any of it, and who was she to judge whoever Yongsun kisses behind her back. Yet Hyejin stood there, for five minutes straight, suffocating. Tears fricking her eyes and she left when Byulyi did that, whispered those words against Yongsun’s lips, the exact words Hyejin once calls into the night, when she sure Yongsun was deep asleep.

Yongsun held her wrist after they’re done with the show, asked if she did anything wrong, was our Hyegi under the weather today, did she want some bulgogi or yukgaejang. That was the first time Hyejin said an “I’m fine.” equals to “No.” to Yongsun, gave up without a fight.

Wheein found her best friend in her house, a part of her sofa darken by teardrops. The young girl didn’t explain to her unnies why they had to cancel their drinking night, when they came into Wheein holding a sleeping, tired Hyejin tight in her arms. The older ones could never say “no” to Wheein.

Wheein swore she saw a gleam of worry and distress in Yongsun’s eyes when Hyejin woke up the next morning and burned the diner’s contact card. But Hyejin couldn’t rely on hope. No more.

--

Life goes on, at its own pace, as if nothing has ever happened, or nothing is in its concern at all. They, which means Yongsun and Hyejin, are never the same after that night. Wounds never heal.

Today, a Christmas day, marks ten years from the first time Hyejin visited the diner with the leader. A stupid anniversary that she doesn’t have to remember at all, but she still does.

Just one day before she’s back being Yongsun’s “bandmate”.

An image of Icarus flashes through her mind. The one flies too close to the Sun and falls to his own death. The farmers keep farming, the traders keep trading. The Sun keeps shining her glory, grants every single creature a bit of her own grace.

Everything, but Icarus.

Stop. Stop. Stop!

A tear fall to the void, Hyejin quickly wipes it away, leaves no evidence behind but the bloodshot slowly becomes a constant these days.

…

Slams the bill onto the table, leaves extra tips, Hyejin stands up, stumbles on her numb legs. She pulls the mask up, then walks away without looking back at the number “2” beside every dish she ordered.

--

She’s found a website that generates themed noise, like a waterfall, and thunder and rain, and forest. There was one section that caught her eyes. It’s called “Black Hole”.

Hyejin saved it for later.

The sky above is somewhat a mix of dark blue and pure black, small dots smudged into blurry lines in her point of view. Dark, and cold.

She wonders, is it cold beside a black hole?

Han River is awfully full at this hour. The taxi driver asked if she comes here for the “Hwasa effect”. Hyejin smiles, leaving the cab without answering.

Would they know?

If it’s Yongsun who cried her eyes out on the riverbank, and Hyejin was never good with comforting, so she just hugged her and whispered “It’s okay” over and over.

Everywhere she goes, she sees Yongsun. Every trace she leaves on this world, there’s a K.Y.S somewhere if she squints hard enough.

But where is she in Yongsun’s world? In a black hole of her mind, who never appears in her dreams and fades away the moment she closes her eyes? Maybe unnie not in the least has ever considered them as something more. Hyejin doesn’t dare hold her breath.

Hyejin pulls a piece of paper out, the receipt for the beer she bought from the grocery store, and a pencil Wheein said would come in handy, quickly scribbles a note. Being drunk and heartbroken and panic attacked helps with composing, someone once said.

I can’t make you love me, why do I-

Why do I love you, who doesn’t love me?

Wheein asked her if she wanted to ask about whatever their unnies have between them two. Hyejin shook her head over her coffee. Extra dark with two shots of espresso, no sugar. She caught Wheein grimaced at the order and she smirked.

Time flies, and it doesn’t seem like she can fall out of love. Hyejin has a fair share of boyfriends, and girlfriends, just some, but they don’t last. Yongsun never openly talks about her dates, and she ain’t seem to have any lover. She loves working too much, Hyejin would believe if someone tells her the leader is married with her job.

Or she loves Byulyi too much, even if they aren’t dating, at least at the moment, that Hyejin knows for sure after years. The maknae tries not to drift to that thought.

I’m like a star that watches you from afar

I won’t change because I’m always a fool

For a moment, she thinks she should share this with Byul unnie. She always likes interpreting herself as a star.

How ironic.

I can’t make you love me

You’re my horizon

Forever...

The dizziness starts to consume her. Hyejin crumples the receipt, putting it in her pocket.

A faint voice calling her name before she falls into a dark black hole with no return.

“Hyejin!”

--

It smells like sage and salt and leather when she wakes up in a moving car. She should’ve spent time scolding herself about how dangerous it is to be unconscious in a public park, but she can’t think fluently, her brain stops working under this smell.

She knows this perfume.

She bought it, of course she knows.

A bottle of Jo Malone she gifted Yongsun on her birthday, after she’s back from the trip abroad with Byulyi. Hyejin didn’t even have the gut to give it to her directly. She sent it through Wheein, after sprayed some on her pillow, for the sake of a fantasy.

Byulyi praised it firsthand when they gathered, even before the leader can smile a “Thank you” Hyejin’s way.

Hyejin tries not to move, doesn’t want whoever drives to strike another meaningless conversation. She could hear her heartbeat calms down at the fragrance, and gosh, Hyejin is too tired to torture herself with another curse. Eyes open, the city outside the window run through her vision in a rut, all colours blended together, mashed into a block of light, a kaleidoscope. It must be 2AM, or 3. She never gets why this city is so obsessed with lighting.

Chet Baker plays his trumpet and sings his song on the radio, his voice even raspier, deeper over the engine buzz. Hyejin once rambled endlessly, with an earphone in and on the last bus of the day, the fact he spent a whole five minutes playing the instrument is rather uncommon and phenomenon. Yongsun scooted closer, effectively shut Hyejin up by lain her head on the maknae’s shoulder. Hyejin remembers, Yongsun used a famous strawberry-scented shampoo back then.

Hyejin mumbles along, even though voice stuck in .

Almost blue

Flirting with this disaster became me

It named me as the fool who only aimed to be

It always makes her sad. The song. This song. They love oldies, this is more on Yongsun’s side. On the long ride home, Hyejin banged her head to the beat of electronic guitars and the leader always laughed so hard. But after 10PM, they will share earphones with the older woman’s playlist playing, always.

Almost blue

Almost touching, it will almost do

There's a part of me that's always true

Always…

The song is put on repeat. From whenever, Hyejin sheds tears, the fall of them on the car’s leather seat is audible to her ear.

It’s just like the day. Yongsun is right there, she could just step forward, or can sit up and throw herself toward, and there she is, in all her grace and glory. She is so close, yet… why… so far? Because she was in Byulyi’s arms, and Hyejin knew enough to distinguish ecstasy when she heard it? Or because she’s nothing but an annoying drunkard, being carried home and still doesn’t have the courage to say an apologize?

For what?

She doesn’t know. Just one…

The car stops, under the familiar yellow street lights near her complex. The door opens and strong arms pull Hyejin up against her will, easily throw her onto that person’s back.

Hyejin holds Yongsun’s shoulders, blushes at the way the leader grips her thighs to keep the younger from sliding down. She doesn’t say a word, fully aware a sentence out and Yongsun would know she’s sober, almost sober, now.

Yongsun always knows.

And Yongsun doesn’t say a word, because there’s nothing to say.

They are not in Seoul anymore, Hyejin thinks. With slow steps, she watches their shadows on the ground. They stretch out, and disappear, and reappear, and they are eternity, a definition of forever at this moment. Destiny. A Hongkong film she’s seen has this scene too. It’d be nice to be the heroine in their movies. A foreseeable happy ending.

There’s no happy ending.

But the warmth, her warmth, Hyejin isn’t ready to give it up again.

--

The way Yongsun leads herself through Hyejin’s house is ridiculously smooth, as if she’s always been here, and there’s nothing such as no-housewarming-party and never-visit-in-months-or-years.

112519, she punches in the code.

It means KYS in number substitution cipher. Hyejin wonders if she ever thinks twice when Hyejin told her the passcode with trembling lips.

Enough. Of running. Of dropping hints and she never picks them up.

Never care about Hyejin enough to pick them up.

So Hyejin decides to take the matter into her own hands.

Hyejin pulls Yongsun close by the collar when the leader drops her onto bed. In the kaleidoscope, shaky view, Yongsun is still oh so beautiful and she is drowning in the depth of her existence.

“Why are you here? Why is it you, and not someone else?”

Why is it you, who I love?

The leader doesn’t seem startled at the action, at all. She pulls a phone, Hyejin’s phone, out of her pocket. “You forgot this at the diner. The owner called me. I figured-”

Right. So, business. Because of friendship, and Yongsun doesn’t remember .

Damn, it hurts like a . She squeezes her eyes tight, tighter, until it hurts and Yongsun stops blabbing over her. Hyejin opens them to a concerned look, and “a gleam of worry and distress” according to Wheein.

. She will blame it on the alcohol tomorrow.

Hyejin lifts a finger to the lips above, pink, glossy, soft lips she’s dreamed about for years. A touch only and she growls, fights until she claims them hers.

Her heart beats faster and faster and she is so sure Yongsun’s kisses are blackhole pulling her in, deep, until all gravity is lost under her touch. It is soft at first, Hyejin doesn’t know if Yongsun is shocked and stares at her as if the maknae is a freak or not. Not a leap, when the leader (maybe) decides to it too and crawls onto soft mattress. So urgent was that tongue. It feels as if her whole world has been waiting for Yongsun to come and open a whole new universe filled with lust and passion and love. Under her body, when breaths are steam hot and moans are muffled, words are utterly useless and actions speak loud, it feels so right she feels like breaking into tears. She is so ing tipsy on Jo Malone and chapstick. All these alluring love songs and stunning words Hyejin has always been so proud of to know, now seized down to one-word breathless whimpers. Yongsun and unnie and oh and yes and more.

And a sob, “I love you”.

And Yongsun breaks the bubble they are lost inside.

When the leader springs up from her body as if burnt and gasps horrifyingly, Hyejin knows she can do nothing once Yongsun decides to leave the bedroom, leave the Christmas miracle they, she, builds.

Yongsun leaves, forgets to slam the door close like in those dramas.

Hyejin can’t help but be consumed by the emptiness of the black hole of her absence.

--

She asks herself why is she even bother to wake up. The sky is too bright for a winter morning and she forgot to pull the curtain close last night and oh how can she remember when she literally had Yongsun panting on her?

Before she found out how desperate Hyejin was, that’s the case.

Grudging, Hyejin forces herself out of bed. She’ll never drink again, she thinks, when almost trips on the bathroom floor. She can’t smell anything and the taste of mint toothpaste feels weirder when she can’t sniff its fragrance.

That’s why she startles so hard she falls down on the carpet when comes to living room, a living room with Yongsun sitting on the dining table, waiting, besides the hangover soup and bibimbap that make Hyejin’s mouth water.

Yongsun raises an eyebrow, watches Hyejin scrambles up from the floor. Awkwardly, in only a large tee and and her phone in hand, she whimpers pathetically. “Good morning.”

The leader nods. Hyejin doesn’t dare to look straight in her eyes. She struggles to unlock the screen. “I will-” she stutters. “I’m gonna delete your number from the emergency contact now, unnie. S-sorry for the inconvenience last night. I just- I was drunk and-”

“Hyejin-ah, don’t.”, Yongsun interrupts sternly. “Sit down, have a pill, eat some.”

Hyejin can’t disobey Yongsun in her leader tone, and is even more obedient when she mixes it with a hint of care.

When she groans at the taste of soup, finally a ing taste, the maknae catches a smile on Yongsun’s lips. And the memory comes back at the sight of lips, Hyejin blushes hard. Yongsun chuckles, which doesn’t help at all.

There’s a fight over washing the dishes, but the leader wins with a glance. It doesn’t take much to disarm Hyejin.

The waiting shouldn’t be this uncomfortable. This is her home and her sofa and her kitchen that Yongsun is occupying yet she’s the one stranded in her own skin, not sure to sit still or to fumble with her phone until unnie is done with the cleaning. She always is the impatient type, every bit in her territory is made to be available anytime she needs them. Nevertheless, Yongsun is making her wait. She’s driving her crazy.

She’s always the exception that Hyejin always loves and sometimes despises.

Yongsun brings a teapot when she comes back with two cups. She doesn’t take the sofa opposed to Hyejin’s, but makes herself at home right next to the younger girl. Hyejin flinches.

“Now that you’re sober up...” Yongsun shifts her weight a little to pour tea. Hyejin is mesmerized by the copper flow, doing everything in her power to not look at Yongsun. “You can tell me what happened.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Don’t play hard to get, we know you want to. Since forever.”

She wholeheartedly believes Yongsun takes delight in pushing the physical reactions out of her.

With a wry twist of , Hyejin sips her tea. Laughing at her grim fate. She confesses, as honest as being in confessional in churches. “I caught you kissing unnie in the bathroom stall. She said she loved you, and you didn’t deny her. You never deny her. So I gave up on you. Simple like that. I ache for you yet you are never mine, so I left. I’m such a sore loser I find the memories of us from time to time, to remind myself I’m able to love and to carry wound sometimes.”

“Sometimes, like last night?”, Yongsun’s voice slipped to a low whisper.

“Yeah.”, she turns to look at her love, a sad smile on, takes in the figure that may be the last she can see this close. “Sometimes, like last night. Like ten years since the moment I fell in love with you. Happy now?”

Yongsun buries her face in her hands, shoulders trembling. Hyejin is never good with comforting. So she hugs her and doesn’t whisper “It’s okay” over and over because it’s not okay.

Her eyes widen when the older throws herself in her arms the moment she touches her, bursts out in tears. “It’s not okay, Hyejin-ah, oh God.”

“I know, I know.”, Hyejin sniffs back her cry. “I’m sorry. It is a mistake. You can just ignore me and it's just a stupid mistake and-“

“No! You should have just told me.”

“I… what?”

Yongsun shoves her away, so strong Hyejin falls right onto the large sofa, amazed. The leader crawls over until she hovers above Hyejin, hazel locks tickle her neck. Her lips tighten, the next reply is a note from inaudible.

“We’d had saved so much time.”

She stops inspecting when she sees how Yongsun is flushed all over, not from anger or hatred.

Lust. Adrenaline. Hyejin knows Yongsun enough to tell them apart.

“Dammit, unnie.”, she mutters, bewildered, leans up to close whatever gaps left between them.

A moan caught in Yongsun’s throat dumps a container of fuel to their ongoing flame. It burns, when the leader deepens the kiss, tongue finds hers, a hand keeping them from rolling to the floor and a hand is dangerously close to a taunted because Hyejin may or may not forgot putting a bra on this morning.

Pulling back, Hyejin quickly puts a hand over the older’s lips before she loses her goddamn mind. “I swear it wasn’t intentional.”

“I don’t care, Hyejin-ah.” Yongsun tugs at the tee, breaths rushing. “I want this. I want you.”

“But what about-” her eyebrows furrow at the thought, which makes her slowly unclasp her hands around Yongsun’s neck.

Yongsun interrupted, plants a kiss on the exposed collarbone. “Byulyi? We aren’t anything else but friends, have never been anything else. She couldn’t take it anymore that day so she took it from me. I did deny her. You weren’t there for it. You-”, she looks up from Hyejin’s chest, meets the brown orbs she’s missed for so long. “You wounded me by disappearing. From my life. Wheein shields you from looking at me, you think I don’t know?”

“She only has good intentions.”, Hyejin mumbles, running fingers through the dark locks. “I thought you didn’t love me.”

Yongsun’s eyes flash, she leans up to steal another peck. “Her good intentions hurt me deeply. And if there is someone who willingly, voluntarily drives miles just take you home from diners and pubs all across Korea, that person sure is in love with you, silly.”

“That was you?! Isn’t it the manager?”

“No, I told them to connect all these calls to my number.”

“What a bastard, Kim Yongsun!”, Hyejin gasps, tilting her head back for a laugh. “But if this isn’t love then I don’t know what it is.”

Yongsun smiles too. She lays down on Hyejin, head on her hand. “Do you love me, then?”

With a tortured groan, the maknae pinches her cheek, whining. “I literally lured you to bed last night, darling.”

“Darling. I like the sound of that.”

Yongsun suddenly pulls back, and stands up, leaves Hyejin puzzled and confused. When she springs up from the sofa, she finds Yongsun already leaning on the bedroom door, watching her, all buttons on her black silky shirts undone. Her gaze goes down to Hyejin’s thighs, where she managed to leave some scratches, sealed herself on her girlfriend’s body.

Her eyes glint a gleam both dangerous and hungry, and Hyejin’s knees melt on the spot.

“Will you join me, darling?”

She only waits for this. Yongsun knows she only waits for this.

Yongsun always knows.

She gasps, breathlessly, as Yongsun drops the shirts, bathes her in the glory and grace she saves only-for-Hyejin. “Yes. Please.”