“Fine, the question is: ‘Can the members give a sincere compliment to Chaeryeong?’” said one of the program presenters.

That was the next block of the program, it seemed. Yeji estimated that they had been on for half an hour or so since the program started. They had played a couple of games and the presenters were friendly, which dispelled her initial nervousness.

The question announced by the presenter (a thick, black-shirted man) caught Chaeryeong by surprise, and she began to shake her head.

“They already flatter me a lot,” she said with a shy smile.

Yeji nodded. She and the rest knew well how Chaeryeong became insecure sometimes—well, a lot of times—and in those moments they were there to support her. It wasn't just with her: if one of them felt down, the others would support her. That's how it worked.

“I don't doubt it,” said another of the presenters, a skinny guy in a white shirt. “But here we'll see how you handle those compliments!”

The girls laughed lightly, and despite their protests, Chaeryeong stood in the center of the room, following the presenters' directions.

“We'll put our hearts into this,” Ryujin said with a smile, earning a nod from Yuna.

“Bet,” Yeji echoed, curious to see Chaeryeong's reactions.

After a brief debate to decide who would go first, Jisu got up and stood in front of Chaeryeong. She took Chaeryeong's hands, placed them on her shoulders and placed her own hands on the sides of the younger girl's head. She smiled and Chaeryeong looked at her expectantly.

“They're going to kiss,” Ryujin said with a chuckle.

Yeji smiled at the comment, but was curious what Jisu would say.

“Chaeryeong, you're beautiful,” was her compliment.

In Yeji's opinion, it was a good compliment. She knew how Chaeryeong's confidence was undermined about her looks many times. However, she was surprised to see Chaeryeong's eyes turn crystal clear from tears.

“Aww, she's… crying,” Ryujin said, incredulous.

“What? Really?” asked the presenter in the black shirt. Chaeryeong had her back to them, so they couldn't see her reaction.

Chaeryeong put her hands to her eyes.

“You just moved me…” she said, her voice trembling.

Yeji and the others laughed, an automatic response to surprise more than anything else. The most surprised and confused was Jisu, who was looking at Chaeryeong with her head slightly cocked and her brow barely a frown.

“Oh, honey,” Jisu said, hugging Chaeryeong. “You are so beautiful.”

“Hey, I didn't think you were going to cry,” stammered the boy in the white shirt.

The hosters had risen from their seats. From their faces, Yeji guessed they weren't expecting that either.

Chaeryeong and Jisu separated, and to Yeji's dismay, it was now Jisu who had glassy eyes.

“No, why are you crying?” Chaeryeong asked, pouting, which Yeji recognized as an effort not to burst into tears.

Jisu laughed shakily and walked to her seat, gently wiping her eyes so as not to ruin her makeup.

“How sudden,” Yuna commented, who so far had a dumbfounded expression.

Yeji looked alternately at Jisu and Chaeryeong, who didn't move from her spot. Yeji wanted to get up to comfort Chaeryeong, but she was still processing the situation.

A situation that, apparently, was not over.

Chaeryeong let out a strange noise and then burst into tears. She had held back the tears so far, but the crying Jisu ended up breaking her self-control.

Everyone in the room was equally confused.

“Why is this so touching all of a sudden?” Yuna asked.

“I wish I knew,” answered one of the presenters (although Yuna's question seemed to be directed to the air), who went to get some tissues for the crying girls.

After wiping their tears, Chaeryeong and Jisu sat back in their respective seats and the program continued as normal. They decided to cancel the original game to avoid any more poignant situations, which Yeji was grateful for, as her concern was at an all-time high at that point.

The leader knew how insecurity and low self-esteem assaulted Chaeryeong frequently. It was a problem that affected her more than the rest, so they paid special attention to it. With all that, bursting into tears over a simple compliment was strange. “No, not strange,” she mentally corrected herself, glancing sideways at Chaeryeong, who was wiping her tears with a white tissue, “worrying. Oh, Chaery, are you that bad and have I underestimated it? Even though I look at you every day, have I underestimated the situation?”

These thoughts wandered freely through Yeji's mind even after the program concluded. In fact, they followed her until her workday was over and she returned to JYP. No one spoke of what happened either in the car or during breaks.

ITZY got off the cart and headed to the big building. The Sun bled over the horizon, staining the sky orange. As they crossed the glass doors they stopped.

“We're free for the day,” Yeji reported, breathing a sigh of relief. “I feel like going to the cafeteria before I do anything else. Are you coming?” she asked the others, turning to them.

Jisu, Ryujin and Yuna agreed with the idea. A little moment of relaxation would do them good before going to the dormitory.

Chaeryeong, however, declined the offer.

“I don't feel like drinking anything, I just want to—lie on the couch, you know.” She gave a smile that was meant to be reassuring, but Yeji found it brittle.

The others looked at each other, but said nothing. Yeji agreed through those looks that it would be the perfect opportunity to talk about Chaeryeong without worrying her unnecessarily.

“Well, okay,” Ryujin said, smiling back at her.

“Yeah, go get some rest,” Yuna interjected with her jovial attitude.

“We'll see you there later,” Yeji said, and Jisu nodded.

Chaeryeong waved her hand in farewell and left. The rest of them walked to the opposite side of the dormitories, in the direction of the cafeteria. Yeji took one last glance over her shoulder, but Chaeryeong had already disappeared.

~~~

She moved like a shadow through the corridors. She passed a few people. They didn't wave or say hello, which she was silently grateful for. She didn't want to show her face, but the most she could do to avoid it was to duck her head and look at the ivory-tiled floor. Maybe she needed a mask? Worse was nothing, although her ugly eyes were still visible.

The dormitories were far from the entrance of the building, so she hurried her pace so that no one else would have to see her. She mentally berated herself for what had happened in the morning. You , she said to herself, you should be ashamed of yourself for being pitiful like that in front of so many people. She called an elevator and waited, casting nervous glances to the sides. No one deserved to look something so horrible in the face. She was starting to get impatient when the elevator finally arrived. She stepped in and pressed the button that would take her to the appropriate floor.

At no time did she look at herself in the elevator mirror, not even with her peripheral vision. She was a monster, she recognized it, but it still pained her to look in a mirror.

The door opened, exhaling the compressed air inside, and she stepped quickly out into the hallway. She turned and crossed corridors and more corridors. She was on the verge of running. She didn't want to see anyone and she didn't want anyone to see her. No, no, no. What if she ran into a senior? Nayeon or Jihyo. Ah, they were so pretty. And she on the other hand…

She stopped in front of the dormitory, feeling relieved, and took out the key to open the door. Everyone had a key, to enter whenever they wanted. She reluctantly a light, but it was necessary to distinguish where she was going. Thank God, she was not sharing a room with anyone. She was thankful again and again that they asked her no questions and let her go. She loved the girls, and that feeling ached in her chest.

The person who hated herself, who called herself a monster as a matter of course, went into her room. She didn't turn on the light, just took off her shoes.

She did not cry at any time. Lee Chaeryeong simply lay down, tucked herself up to her head and let the darkness, both outside and inside, consume her.

~~~

“Today was very disconcerting,” Ryujin said, sipping from her cold tea.

The four girls were at a table situated in the corner of the cafeteria, where no one could overhear their conversation by accident. For how sparsely crowded the cafeteria was, Yeji thought it was redundant, but she had no complaints. It was better to make sure to discuss that delicate topic away from prying ears.

“Gosh, I know,” Yuna replied. “I didn't even know what to do.”

“None of us did. Heck, I cried when I saw her like that,” Jisu interjected with a grimace.

Yeji remained silent, thinking. They spent ten minutes talking about trivialities. Neither knew how to broach the subject, so they beat around the bush quite a bit. Yeji was about to bring the matter up, but Ryujin, bless her, beat her to it.

“Don't worry, Jisu,” Yeji comforted her. “We know how sensitive you are.”

Jisu smiled at her in appreciation.

“It looks like even the presenters weren't expecting it,” Yuna said, reflectively. “They cancelled that segment and everything.”

Yeji was reluctant to the idea of letting Yuna be present. The maknae was only fifteen, and talking about her classmate and friend's psychological difficulties might shock her too much. However, Yeji said nothing. She deserved to know what was going on.

“Yeah,” Ryujin said, “and I don't blame them. It's…” she hesitated and shook her head, “ed up.” Yeji was too deep in her musings to call her attention for the bad word.

They stood in silence, deep in thought. Yeji looked out the window overlooking the street. The Sun was falling, giving way to an incipient night darkness. She glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. 6:01 PM. It was an hour before it would be completely dark.

Jisu cleared , attracting everyone's attention.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

Ryujin leaned back in her seat with a weary gesture. “I don't know,” she grunted. “Talk to her, I guess.”

“That's a good idea,” Yuna said. “Shall we all go?”

“No, no,” Jisu said quickly. “The last thing we want to do is overwhelm her.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” Yuna murmured. “Shall we leave Chaeryeong alone for today?” she asked then.

“I don't think letting the matter cool down is a good idea either,” Ryujin interjected.

They talked some more. Yeji listened to what they said and thought. It took her a moment to notice that six eyes were on her, looking for answers. Yeji didn't speak throughout the conversation because she wanted to think, to evaluate every possible idea and study the ones the others provided. But it was time to speak. She could tell from the eyes fixed on her that they were all uncomfortable with the idea of talking to Chaeryeong about her mental state.

She couldn't blame them. You never heard someone say, “I'd like to go to a psychologist,” not even glancingly. People didn't like to talk about their mental state, and people didn't like to hear others talk about it either. It was a taboo that Yeji cursed daily, and fought against in her own way. That was, talking about whatever problems her friends had, no matter what they were.

She finished her coffee, once hot but which she had let cool, absorbed in her thoughts. She made a decision.

“I'll go talk to her,” she reported, standing up. “I can handle this well.”

She scanned the faces looking back at her. Relief. She understood well. Ryujin would have a hard time finding the right words to talk to Chaeryeong. She had a hard time expressing herself most of the time. Jisu would probably end up crying again. As for Yuna, Yeji didn't think a fifteen-year-old girl could deal with someone else's mental bumps. Therefore, it was Yeji who would have to take charge.

“We can't all go, but we can't leave it alone either,” Yeji explained. “Something worse could happen.” She didn't mention what.

“Something worse…?” Yuna asked, but no one answered her.

They wouldn't mention anything macabre in front of her.

“It's early,” Yeji continued. “Stay here, or go out for a walk around the city.” She cracked a smile she knew would be reassuring. “Don't worry; I'll take care of it.” She gave them a thumbs-up.

The doubt on the other faces present diminished at Yeji's words. The leader left the cafeteria, aware of the stares on her back.

As she climbed stairs, crossed hallways and turned corners, Yeji realized that she didn't know how to deal with Chaeryeong. She did know she needed to converse with her, but not how. She wasn't an expert therapist or anything like that. Sending the girl to therapy seemed reasonable, but she would almost certainly object. I'm not crazy, she would tell Yeji.

The gears in Yeji's head kept turning as she walked. The dorms were deep inside the building, tucked away from the noise to give the residents some peace. For most of the year there wasn't much noise produced by idols, as their comebacks almost never coincided with those of other groups.

Yeji arrived at the dorm and planted herself in front of the door. She hesitated for a few moments before pulling out her key, unlocking the door and entering. Only the light bulb in the living room was on, the rest was dark.

Yeji frowned as she closed the door behind herself. Would Chaeryeong even be there? Or would she have tricked them and gone somewhere else? Panic began to grow inside Yeji. It would be impossible to find her if she wasn't there—she could be anywhere. Yeji crossed the room quickly towards the hallway of rooms. It didn't help her worries that no light filtered under the door to Chaeryeong's room.

She stopped in front of the door with her fist raised. She hesitated, but ended up knocking three times.

Nothing.

Yeji pressed her ear to the door and knocked again, louder. She heard something, but she couldn't tell what.

“Chaeryeong,” she raised her voice to make herself heard through the door, “I know you're in there.”

Chaeryeong didn't answer, and Yeji hesitated to enter. She thought about what she had said to the others, remembered their worried expressions. That was enough to clear her hesitation.

She peeled herself away from the door and grasped the knob. If it was locked from the inside, there was nothing she could do. She would have to wait for Chaeryeong to come out or go get the staff.

The door opened without a sound and, like the rest of the bedroom, it was dark. Yeji blinked to get used to the darkness, stepped inside and closed the door behind her. On the only bed in the room was a lump covered by sheets that stirred slightly when it heard Yeji's footsteps approaching. It made no sound.

Yeji got goose bumps from the cold. She her arms as she thought of the next move.

“Chaeryeong?”

Nothing. Yeji sighed, feeling like an intruder for barging in like this, but she knew Chaeryeong needed help and she couldn't just leave her be.

Yeji sat on the corner of the bed. The lump's reaction was to shrink and cower at the other end of the bed, away from her. It was almost as if she was burned by the leader's presence.

“This is so weird,” Yeji thought worriedly.

“Chaeryeong… let's talk.”

There was silence for a few moments, and when Yeji thought she would get no answer, the girl spoke:

“What's the matter, Yeji-unnie?” Her voice sounded muffled. Not as an effect of being covered by sheets, no. Her voice itself was muffled.

“I—” Yeji her lips. “Can I turn on the light?”

Another silence. Yeji waited.

“Okay.”

Yeji got up and went to flip the switch. The cold white light hurt her eyes and she had to blink several times. She sat down in the same spot.

“Can I see your face?” Yeji asked.

The lump was a statue, motionless.

“Please?” Yeji added, her voice low and soft.

“Why would you want to see that?” Chaeryeong muttered.

Yeji shook her head in confusion.

“What's wrong with it, Chaer?”

“No one should have to see something so ugly.”

Yeji opened her catlike eyes in surprise. She expected the girl to tell her something else or not answer, but that answer was worse than she expected.

“There's nothing wrong with it, Chaer. Absolutely nothing.” She wanted to come closer, but she didn't move. “Please, I want to see you while I'm talking to you,” she insisted, her voice still soft. God, I hope it's the right voice.

Silence again. Yeji was about to nibble her lip again.

Finally, little by little, Chaeryeong uncovered her face. Yeji expected to find a tearful, red-eyed face, but instead there was Chaeryeong's clean face. She hadn't cried, it would show. But then, why did she sound so lifeless?

Chaeryeong did not look at her at any time. Her eyes wandered everywhere, avoiding Yeji's gaze.

“Chaer, about this morning… it really worried me,” Yeji finished after a hesitation. Goodness gracious, how awkward she felt.

“What do you mean, unnie?” Chaeryeong dodged the question with another question.

Yeji wouldn't deviate from the topic.

“In Weekly Idol,” Yeji said. “You started crying because of Jisu's compliment, didn't you?”

“Oh, that. You see—I got something in my eyes.”

The excuse was pathetic, and they both knew it.

“Chaeryeong, you cried when Jisu told you that you were beautiful. Don't you believe that? That you're beautiful?”

“Why are you wasting your time with me, Yeji?” -Chaeryeong muttered, turning a deaf ear to Yeji's questions. “Why do you pay attention to an offal?”

The girl still didn't look at Yeji, but the anger with which she pronounced offal was not normal.

“Chaeryeong, you are not an offal, nor am I wasting my time with you,” Yeji said softly. She made a move to approach Chaeryeong, but the girl pressed herself against the wall.

“You are not an offal,” Yeji repeated, “and talking to you, my friend, would never be a waste of time.”

Yeji moved closer, but not too close either. She didn't want to push Chaeryeong, though she suspected she would have to if she wanted to understand her problems.

Chaeryeong let out an acidic laugh.

“It doesn't matter, Yeji. Please leave my room. I wish to be alone.”

Yeji had no intention of backing down now. It would be tantamount to failing her mates, Chaeryeong and herself.

“I've noticed, you know?” Yeji began. “How you avoid eye contact when you talk to someone. You lower your head, look at your feet.” She moved closer. “You always speak softly, as if you're afraid of annoying or being yelled at. Something strange is going on with you. Please talk to me.” She took a pause. “Please,” she repeated, more of a plea than anything else.

Chaeryeong didn't look at her, but she did tense up at Yeji's words.

“That's the way it has to be,” Chaeryeong said in an emotionless voice. “I don't want anyone to suffer from seeing my disgusting self. I'm just a nuisance to others.”

Yeji was shocked by the way Chaeryeong was self-flagellating with her words.

“Chaeryeong, that's not—”

“It's true, Yeji.” For the first time, Chaeryeong looked her in the eyes. There was anger, but not directed at Yeji. It was a dull rage, which seemed to spit fire inward, into Chaeryeong's sou