(I feel like I've forgotten both the plot and how to write but I really hope you don't hate it...) 

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On top of a reality show, they get a song. Taeyeon thinks that their companies will make them try everything to see what profits. When she first listens to the demo, she is surprised to hear that it is a sad love song. Tiffany doesn't mention the song either. At this point, they are both too used to doing what is expected of them. No comments, no complaints, no fuss.

The music producers are from Tiffany's company so Taeyeon heads over to their recording studio. It's bigger than what she's used to. It's also much darker, the brightest lights being from the soundboard itself. Maybe it's meant to inspire the cool and y sound the company is famous for. Taeyeon is already feeling out of place.

Tiffany hugs her from behind. She knows it's Tiffany because no one else ever does.

"I'm nervous," Tiffany confesses. She gets like that sometimes, especially when they are alone. When Tiffany is with the rest of her band, she's often overflowing with confidence and charisma that it's difficult to imagine her ever doubting herself. 

"People don't think I'm a great singer, but here I am attempting a duet with the Nation's Voice. It feels... shameless." Tiffany whispers, her breath causing goosebumps on Taeyeon's neck.

"I think you're a great singer."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Taeyeon isn't very good with pep talks. She never knows the right things to say in these situations. No one had given her pep talks growing up, the moment they did was the moment she had already made it. 

It seems enough for Tiffany though. She releases Taeyeon from the hug, takes her hand, and leads her into the recording booth.

"Where's everyone?" Taeyeon asks, finally finding it odd that they have the room all to themselves.

"I told my manager to tell your manager to get you here an hour early." Tiffany puts a pair of headphones on herself, then places another pair on Taeyeon's head gently, brushing her bangs sideways as she did.

"Why?"

"To get you in the mood," Tiffany whispers into the microphone, but the joke falls flat. Taeyeon loves singing, but she also takes pride in being efficient, getting the required takes she needs in the shortest amount of time.

"Can you just listen to me and let me know if I'm doing all right?" Tiffany sighs, dropping her cheerful demeanour.

"You're doing all right."

Tiffany rolls her eyes and then proceeds to close them as she presses play.

"I love you, I can wait for you endlessly
When you come to find me
I can smile at you, always oh"

Her voice shakes when she sings so she replays the backing track and tries again...

and again...

and again...

"It's easier if you think of someone to sing to." Taeyeon interrupts after the 7th try, attempting to be helpful. "Imagine if this is the last time we ever see each other again." 

Tiffany looks at her with so much intensity that she feels like Tiffany is about to scream at her for saying something so stupid.

But instead, Tiffany just starts singing.

It's beautiful - the tone of her voice was laced with melancholy and longing, but still maintained an equal balance of powerful resolve and fragile vulnerability. Taeyeon joins in midway for her parts, closing the distance between them by sharing the microphone. The harmonies they create are new and melodic, it's a shame no one else will hear them since these notes are not on the score. 

Taeyeon doesn't look away, even though there was something in Tiffany's gaze, unwavering in passion, that made her want to run.

The song ends and Tiffany excuses herself, abruptly leaving the recording booth. Even though her instinct was telling her to follow, Taeyeon remained frozen in place.

She doesn't notice the passage of time until the vocal directors and sound engineers arrive.

Taeyeon ends up recording her parts alone.

They don't talk, or even text, in the next few weeks. It was as if someone flipped a switch, and this became their new normal.

*

"You're spacing out again," her manager snaps her fingers to get her attention, then ushers her towards the stage. This is the first of a series of music shows she's performing at to promote her latest album. The lights are blinding, her mind blanks, and she misses her cue to start singing - the beginning of the countless mistakes she was about to make. 

Taeyeon gives the worst performance of her career and cries herself to sleep that same night.

She wakes up to see 39 missed call notifications, 8 from Tiffany. She throws her phone against the wall and watches as the screen cracks and turns black.

Her company covers for her and tells the media that she's fallen ill, canceling the rest of her appearances for the next two weeks, without even consulting her. The landline in her apartment rings hours after the news breaks. She didn't even realise she had a landline before it rang. It was her manager telling her not to worry and to focus on her recovery. She doesn't know what she's meant to be recovering from.

A new phone is delivered to her the next day, but she doesn't bother unboxing it.

*

It's been three days of instant ramen, reality show binging, and lounging in pajamas. Taeyeon is convinced that she can live like this. She starts fantasising about alternative careers. She brings out her old sketchbook and toys with the idea that she can be a different kind of artist, but then she spills ramen broth on her pages and throws the whole book away.

The bell rings and she ignores it.

It progresses into knocks, each louder than the last.

Taeyeon covers her ears, hoping the person on the other side of the door will think that no one is home.

"I know you're home!"

It's Tiffany and she groans because she knows that Tiffany never gives up.

"I'm not giving up!"

Tiffany starts banging on the door with both hands. It's so forceful that when Taeyeon finally opens the door, she gets accidentally punched in the face.

"I'm sorry! Are you okay? Oh my god, you're bleeding." Taeyeon gets dragged to her couch and soon she is suffocated by a fistful of tissues placed on her nose.

It takes her a few minutes to recover from the shock of receiving a fist to the face. The TV drones on but she can't really pay attention to what it's saying. Her eyes are glued towards the ceiling to stop the nosebleed.

Her view is soon obstructed by