1.

Their first year is characterized by hidden competitions, tender wounds and soft whispers in the night. 

After all, in such an environment - all the girls sizing each other up, knowing that they are fighting for that limited spot - competition is always going to be rampant.

Jimin is so beautiful.

Minjeong can only stare at her - perfectly poised, height just right and eyes a determined obsidian. Her heart thumps, and she doesn't know if it is with dread and envy or a combination of admiration and respect too.

Jimin is so beautiful, she says again in her mind, because she is sitting there watching her evaluation, her dance. She wants to be jealous, but such talent is so complementary to SM's image. She knows, without a doubt, that Jimin is one of the favorites.

“Hold my hand.” Jimin says to her. It is the first thing she says to her. Minjeong takes a double look, questions the statement, and feels absolutely confused when Jimin is not facing her at all, but her hand is on the arm rest on Minjeong's left, palms facing the ceiling. 

"I can't do this." Jimin mutters, breathing rapidly, "The lyrics... I can't remember the lyrics." 

Minjeong doesn't think Jimin is entirely aware that she's speaking out loud, but she holds her hands nevertheless. 

Then Jimin's turning, expression filled with worry.

"You'll be fine. Look, it's not like anyone here's perfect, don't worry about it. Just have fun." Minjeong whispers. They're watching the stage, the other girls singing, and knows it'll be their turn next week. 

Everything goes as well as it can go. 

"See, you did fairly well." Minjeong nods her head, looking at their grades on the notice board. 

"You don't know how to praise people at all," Jimin laughs, "but thank you for taking time out to help me. I appreciate it."

"Welcome." Minjeong says, still wondering why she did that. They're competitors, she reminds herself.

She pushes that particular thought down, and smiles. Maybe they're friends. Maybe.

But maybe not to.

They don't really talk, at least, not till late April, when Spring arrives.

That is when Minjeong trains until her body breaks down. That is when she finally realizes what all of this - the commuting, the training, the schoolwork - means. How all of it feels. A mixture of exhaustion and stress and anxiety.

She is in the dance room. She looks at herself through the mirror, and there is only an image of one tiny Kim Minjeong, seemingly engulfed by the bare room, coloured dark and grey. And then she thinks:

Maybe, if I just sleep now, I will not have to worry about anything. Maybe, if I just choose to sleep forever, everything will eventually turn to dust and I won't have to think and think about how my future will look like. Maybe I will be able to just be... and even come to a realization that this, this is the mundanity of life, the meaninglessness of life. Albert Camus was right... 

It feels like winter in here, Minjeong thinks. It's so cold. 

She passes out. And it is peaceful. She can't recall ever passing out. Maybe that is what it will be like, sleeping forever. 

"...hey...Hey..." Faint sounds from above. "...okay... Are you okay?"

Minjeong hears, and it is a familiar voice. It's curious. 

She blearily opens her eye, though it is still half-closed, and instantly, her vision is splashed golden. 

ing hell, this hurts.

"Thank god. I thought you... nevermind. Are you okay?" 

It's Jimin, Minjeong recognizes now.

"Mmm," She replies, only for Jimin's peace of mind. 

"Alright, that's good... that's good." Jimin proceeds to comb her hair with her fingers, maybe, just so she knows that Minjeong is here, and has not vanished into hell, or something. 

"What are you doing here?" Minjeong finally asks, after her head has stopped throbbing so painfully.

"Oh! Me?" Jimin startles, looking at Minjeong laying on the floor, looking at her move to place her head on Jimin's lap, as if it is a thing they do.

"Mmm." 

"I was just looking for my wallet. I thought I left it here, turns out it wasn't here at all. It's not even in the cafeteria, or the pantry or in the restroom. I was trying so hard to find it but it was in my bag all along, like way under my jacket and books and stuff..." Jimin rambles. 

Minjeong listens to her speak, smiling happily at the way she blurts out whatever's in her mind. It's endearing.

"You're cute." Minjeong says.

Her head must be very badly hurt, she thinks. She doesn't say that. She doesn't at all.

She looks at Jimin, still feels her fingers in her hair, the rhythmic way she combs, and just doesn't think about the fact that she doesn't show much affection. 

"Do you need anything?" Jimin asks, neck reddening. 

"Are you blushing?" Minjeong grins.

"You're not answering my question," Jimin stutters, "I'm trying to make sure you don't pass out on me again."

"Don't worry, I won't. Anyway, you're not answering my question." Minjeong retorts. 

"I asked you first, and it was an important question." Jimin defends, "I'm gonna get you water. Wait here." 

"Fine," Minjeong teases, "I will be waiting for your answer here."

"You won't be getting an answer from me." Jimin loudly says, walking to the end of the dance room to get her bag, the one she haphazardly threw on the floor when she saw Minjeong's figure on the ground.

"I will pester you until you admit it." Minjeong laughs, feeling a flower bloom in her chest. 

"Admit what?" Jimin laughs too, "I've nothing to admit to you." She walks back to Minjeong, plopping on the white glazed floors. "Here, water... Okay, sit up carefully...let me help you." 

She holds onto Minjeong carefully, arms around the middle of her back, and then Minjeong's leaning onto her, sipping water. 

"Thank you." Minjeong says, "If you didn't come back for your wallet, maybe I would have slept forever."

"Not forever, maybe until morning. Or until someone send you to the hospital." 

"Okay, smartass." Minjeong grins. 

And then everything kind of slots into place. 

2.

Their second year is characterised by childish banter, accidental touches and longing gazes.

Minjeong never realizes this fact until it is too late: Jimin is actually a habitual flirt. 

Minjeong, who usually prides herself on the occasional ability to 'get people flustered' is no match to Yoo Jimin, extraordinaire flirt. 

Sometimes, Minjeong plays along, feeling the thrill of it course through her veins. It is so fun. 

But sometimes, she feels like she needs to take a step back. That girl will make Minjeong fall off the edge of a cliff. 

And other times, she has to take deep breaths, if only to slow the beat of her heart, if only to let the blush - seemingly permanent on her cheeks now - recede. 

And then there's the fact that Jimin is so beautiful. 

Minjeong will probably never get tired of repeating that fact in her head. She fears that it will escape her mind into the external world, when - and not if - she voices it out accidentally. 

"What are you thinking about?" Jimin sing-songs, the emphasis on certain words making the whole question sound like a teasing one.

"You're childish." Minjeong says, shifting her eyes to the mirror in the practice room, where she sees Jimin swaying from left to right beside her. 

"No, I'm not," she tut-tuts, crossing her chest for good measure. Then she laughs, grinning, when Minjeong scrunches her face up in confusion. She never knew Jimin was like this. She is learning new things every day.

"You're so cute," Jimin bounces up to her, lightly squeezing her cheeks,