“Look who the cat dragged in.”

Sooyoung’s tone is enough to pull Yoona’s attention from the canapes. She looks up, curious.

“What? Who?”

Without saying anything, Sooyoung merely nods her head towards the door. Yoona straightens, glancing through several businessmen and waitresses and wondering who would surprise Sooyoung like this, and her eyebrows go up to her hairline once she finally finds the culprit.

Almost two decades have passed and Kwon Yuri remains unmistakable. Yoona notices her attire – slacks and a blazer – and her eyes roll on their own accord. Nevermind that she and Sooyoung are dressed much the same way, it’s not like they have the same expectations. If it were her coming back after a scandal of the sort, she’d have at least tried a dress to blend in.

Not that Yuri seemed very interested in blending in. Yoona watches her for a moment more, seeing how Yuri intercepts a waitress to get a glass of champagne with a charming grin. Even through the distance, she thinks she can see the red on the waitress’ cheeks.

“You’d think she’d behave better,” she says to Sooyoung. “Especially after what she did.”

Sooyoung shrugs.

“After Yoojeong’s scandal, I’m guessing she’s not a persona non grata in the family anymore.”

Right. Amidst her surprise at seeing Yuri back, she hadn’t even thought of the reason for it.

Yoojeong, Yuri’s older sister by six years, married to an attending member of the Seoul Metropolitan Council. She was obviously the favored daughter, present at all the parties and reunions with her perfect husband and her perfect son.

Until her perfect husband was named in an embezzlement and corruption scandal in one of the biggest papers in the city. The investigation is still ongoing, and Yoojeong is understandably retired from the public eye.

Apparently Mr. Kwon and his wife consider a lesbian daughter to be better than a corrupt one. At least Yuri’s uality had never made it into national television.

“By the way,” Yoona begins, suddenly remembering something. She leans her head closer to Sooyoung’s, “Kijun said that Kim Wonsang was going to snitch in exchange for getting his sentence shortened.”

“Really?” Sooyoung asks, interested. They turn in unison towards Kim Deokhyun, owner of a big convenience store chain and father to the aforementioned Wonsang. He's busy chatting, champagne glass in one hand, and absolutely nothing in his posture indicates his son being involved in such a scheme.

“Wow, looking at him you’d think nothing’s happening.” Yoona says.

“Are you sure about that?” Sooyoung asks, glancing briefly at Yoona before going back to watching Kim. “I didn’t see anyone talking about it.”

“One of Kijun’s friends is close to Wonsang,” Yooona answers.

Sooyoung turns to face her at that, an eyebrow raised. Yoona tries to take a step back at her expression, but her body meets the appetizer table instead.

“Yoona,” Sooyoung says, very seriously, “Kijun is not involved in this, right?”

“What?” Yoona’s eyes widen, but Sooyoung doesn’t budge. “Of course not, unnie. Do you think I’d still be dating him if he was?”

Sighing, Sooyoung takes one of her hands. Yoona fights the instinct to let go, slightly worried about Sooyoung’s bizarre behavior.

“Let’s be honest, Yoona. You don’t even know why you’re dating him.”

Not this again.

“Unnie,” Yoona hisses, squeezing the hand still holding hers. “Not now, please.”

“I know he’s the son-in-law your parents want, but don’t you think you deserve to be with someone you actually like?”

Uncomfortable, Yoona quickly looks around, checking to see if anyone’s close enough to witness the whole scene. As expected of a party full of multi millionaire businessmen and their respective heirs, everyone’s attention seems limited to a half mile radius from their own nose.

“I already told you, not everyone is going to have a relationship as perfect as yours,” Yoona says, not able to keep the frustration out of her voice.

“My relationship isn’t perfect.”

“Unnie, Kyungho oppa literally kisses the ground you walk on.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sooyoung says, but Yoona notices her fighting a smile.

Yoona frees her hand, turning back with the excuse of searching for something to eat. Seeing Sooyoung happy will always be a reason for her own happiness, and Yoona really couldn’t wish for someone better for her. In eight years, Sooyoung has never neglected Yoona in favor of her boyfriend, and whenever they all go out together the atmosphere is always welcoming and Yoona is never made to feel like a third wheel.

But at the same time, she’s only human. Yoona knows she should keep her feet firmly on the ground, but sometimes it’s too hard to not let herself go and focus on the questions that shouldn’t be asked: would Kijun ever be able to put a smile like that on her face?

She’s so absorbed in trying to avoid her own thoughts that she doesn’t even realize someone arriving.

“Is the menu always this cliche?”

With a start, Yoona turns to the newcomer, eyes widening as she realizes who exactly it is. Yuri has pushed her sleeves up, and her black nails contrast sharply against the white tablecloth. Yoona allows herself to take her in by steps: the delicate rings on her right hand, the way the fabric stretches across her shoulders, the curve of her jaw. 

It’s been eighteen years since they saw each other. They’ve never even been friends. But Yuri searches Yoona’s eyes with an unreadable look, and for an insane moment Yoona wonders if she knows how dangerous her presence is, for reasons that Yoona has avoided figuring out.

“Kwon Yuri-ssi.” Sooyoung interferes when the silence stretches for too long, bowing. Yoona sends her a silent thanks, still unable to formulate a sentence in time.

“Sooyoung-ssi, Yoona-ssi.” Yuri greets them back, apparently not caring that her question went ignored, and Yoona barely has the presence of mind to bow back.

She knows she’s being rude, but seeing Yuri up close is unexpected. She’d imagined the night would go almost exactly as if they were still teenagers, when Yuri’s presence at these events was still expected. Yoona and Sooyoung whispering among themselves at various corners and making small talk with the gentlemen that came close, and Yuri following Yoojeong around with a too-big smile on her face, like she knew a joke that she didn’t plan on sharing.

Yoojeong wasn’t around anymore, obviously, but the too-big smile remained. Yoona felt a shock of irritation.

Who was she to smile like that at Yoona and Sooyoung, like they were old acquaintances and not merely strangers that were born in the same world. That was the vital difference between them: Yoona did everything right, always. She grew up as her parents expected, dated as her parents expected, worked as her parents expected. And here was Yuri, again occupying the same space as her, and Yoona could almost hear her ask, “Was it worth it, Yoona? Was it worth it being the perfect daughter, if now we’ve ended up at the same place?”

“You guys should visit my restaurant,” Yuri says, blissfully anyware of her internal conflict, “I promise the food is way more interesting.”

“I did,” Yoona says without thinking. Yuri doesn’t quite manage to hide her surprise, and Yoona suppresses an eyeroll.

“And? What did you think?” The hope is evident in her voice, and Yoona allows herself a moment to watch her once more before answering.

Yuri is real. It’s a bold assumption to make about someone she technically doesn’t know, but Yoona would never forget the shocked gasps from eighteen years prior, the way Yuri had spoken with such great conviction “This is Misun, my girlfriend” and refused to back out. And if thirty-two year old Yoona still sees herself in her fourteen-year-old self – watching everything quietly, certain of what she wanted and of what she could never have – Yuri also seems the same.

The easy laughter. The comfortable way she touches Yoona’s arm to get her attention.

The twinkle in her eyes when she realizes Yoona’s been staring at her for too long.

“It was a corporate dinner,” she finally settles on saying.

There’s no need to say that the idea to go there hadn’t been hers. There’s also no need to say that she’d spent the night distracted, alternating her looks between the entrance and the kitchen, a strange feeling in her chest at the thought of who she could meet again.

There’s no need to say any of that. Yuri hadn’t shown up, anyway.