A/N: Hi guys! Sorry for the long wait. I was actually debating a bit about the order of chapters before deciding to post in this manner. Originally, I planned to write the story solely in Wendy’s POV, but I felt that Irene deserved her time in the spotlight and having dual perspectives also serves the purpose of illustrating some of the themes in the story.

In relation to chapter titles, my inspiration for this fic comes from the mechanics of an instant camera, where the polaroid film layers systematically react to blue, green and red lights, producing the corresponding negative colours of yellow, magenta and cyan respectively. Thus, each of the chapters represents a layer and a negative colour, which will eventually form a full image. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

~~~

Contrary to the articles commenting about Irene being a natural for modelling and dancing, Joohyun was definitely not.

As a kid, she loved listening to music. Dancing was a hobby she picked up because she couldn’t sit still whenever she listened to a catchy beat, but even then, she couldn’t consider it as anything more than a hobby. After all, her reverie would be broken the moment her parents called for her to go help out at their family restaurant.

For the longest time, Joohyun had always assumed that she would be continuing her family’s business, or at least be involved with it somehow. Running a humble seafood restaurant in Daegu was a lot of work, considering they had two children to raise and put through school.

As the eldest daughter, her familial obligation was understood. As soon as her younger sister was old enough, she would spend her afternoons in the restaurant, cleaning tables and serving customers while her parents handled the cooking and food preparation.

She knew it wasn’t her fault for not being able to see in colour. However, she had not realised how much of a disadvantage it was, until she was tasked with chopping vegetables and watching the stove.

It took burning the tofu and overcooking the sauce twice, for her parents to realise that putting a colourblind person in charge was not a good idea.

“It’s better this way. You’ll understand when you’re older.” Her mother had explained, as she shooed a frustrated Joohyun away from the kitchen.

At the time, it was partly out of spite, but she became even more determined to find another way around her limitations. Granted, it had taken a few months of overcooking and undercooking, but she eventually found her own indicators to follow and the confidence to back herself up.

She found that the density and weight of apples and oranges could be used to gauge their ripeness. She also memorised the fizzling sound of meat just when it was fully cooked, along with the intensity of the flavours in the air when the soup came to a boil. By the time she reached high school, Joohyun no longer had to hesitate before helping her parents in the kitchen when they were understaffed. It was never articulated, but she knew it was expected of her to simply take over at a later point.

She recalled a time in elementary school, when her teacher had asked the class what they wanted to do in future. It was part of their curriculum, to build awareness of the jobs that existed around them. At that age, most of the kids in her class hadn’t thought about things like reality, finances and practicality. There were answers like being an astronaut, a fisherman, a dancer and even a chef.

For Joohyun though, her path had already been laid out for her.

“Anything Joohyun,” she remembered her teacher saying. She couldn’t recall the names of most of the classmates sitting around her, but her teacher’s words were loud and clear in her memory. The teacher’s bright smile was an attempt to be encouraging, yet the exercise only served as a reminder of what she couldn’t have. “Anything is possible. The future hasn’t been decided yet so just let your imagination run wild.”

Her teacher wasn’t accepting no for an answer. Hence, Joohyun thought of something she saw everyday that her parents listened to and trusted without question.

“A news broadcaster.” She lied smoothly, knowing that it was unlikely to happen. “That would be nice.”

Satisfied, the teacher moved her attention to another student and Joohyun made a mental note to remember that profession if someone asked her that question again in future. The next three students answered “being an idol” consecutively, which led the teacher into a discussion on what aspects attracted them to the profession.

Joohyun was listening, but her attention was mostly on the pages in her textbook about colour differentiation. She had never considered joining the entertainment industry, much less auditioning for an idol company. The thought of the money spent on training and living in Seoul was already daunting enough for her to dismiss the possibility. She would have to go to a specialised school on top of her regular training, which would put even more financial pressure on her family.

That was also on the assumption that she was good enough to get in, which didn’t cross her mind for a long time.

In fact, the first time she had even become aware of the possibility was when a few classmates told her that she resembled one of the featured dance trainees they saw on television. She laughed politely, and then reassured them that they probably had a better chance than her. The underlying envy in their tone was not unfamiliar, but Joohyun had learned long ago that avoiding conflict was a better use of her energy and time as compared to direct confrontations.

She hadn’t taken any of their comments to heart, but the next time she heard the news of a Korean girl group having a sold out concert in Seoul, she turned up the volume.

~~~

It was years later when fate seemed to intervene in the most unexpected way.

A set of familiar footsteps broke the peaceful silence of the empty kitchen Joohyun was working in.

“Joohyun-ah, did you hear? There’s an audition being held in town today!”

“Auditions?” Joohyun looked up from the vegetables she was washing and turned her head to face the doorway, where her friend stood. She had left the door open in case her parents needed her help in carrying goods from the car. However, she wasn’t about to complain about seeing a friendly face.

“For what?”

The other girl gestured for her to come outside. Joohyun hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the rest of the ingredients she had yet to wash and chop.

Her parents had gone to secure a deal with one of their suppliers so Joohyun was alone for the time being. However, she still had work to do and having her friend distract her wasn’t part of her plan.

“One of the companies in Seoul is doing a scout for new talents, and they’re holding a one-day audition in town!” Seeing as her friend wasn’t about to leave, Joohyun stood, washed her hands in the sink and made her way over. “And it’s open to the public!”

She glanced around the restaurant, mentally checking off the duties she had left. She was grateful that she had the foresight to clean the tables and prepare the cutlery sets in advance. After a while, she turned back to her friend. “And this is related to us, how?”

“Don’t you want to go?”

Joohyun shrugged. The thought of watching a bunch of teenagers from their town try to impress a bunch of CEOs in suits with their dancing and singing wasn’t exactly enticing. Lately, her friend had been obsessed with a few of the boy and girl groups that had broken through the local market. She had dragged Joohyun to learn some of the choreography with her, which admittedly had been fun. However, actually auditioning for an idol company wasn’t something she envisioned herself going for.

“Not really.”

That answer apparently wasn’t satisfactory enough, because her friend sighed loudly. The exaggeration brought out a laugh from Joohyun as she rinsed the last of the vegetables in her basin.

“Come on,” her friend pleaded insistently. “It’ll take two hours- three maximum! You don’t even have to join. You can just be there for moral support!”

Joohyun gave her friend a long look, sensing that this was about more than just watching her neighbours and schoolmates embarrass themselves. While her best friend wasn’t the most practical person, Joohyun was also not someone who would destroy her friend’s dreams.

“Do you want to join the audition?” She finally asked.

The other girl gave her a bright grin. “Yes! It’ll be good for experience!”

“You know the people you’re competing with have probably trained for years, right?” Joohyun pointed out, storing the ingredients for the evening shift as she spoke. “We’ve just been dancing for fun. Do you really think it’s worth the time?”

Her friend nodded.

“Honestly, I know the odds of making it in are slim. But it’s not everyday that we get the chance to audition for a company like this and I don’t want to regret not giving it a shot.”

At the eagerness in her eyes, Joohyun was abruptly reminded of the day they became friends.

It was a day that everything seemed to be going wrong. She had gotten into an argument with her parents the night before for forgetting to do the laundry, and she had overslept due to the rainy morning. That led to her missing the bus and skipping her breakfast, as well as forgetting her gym clothes in her attempt to reach her class before the bell rang. Which, thankfully, she did manage to accomplish, but not without doing a final dash to school and getting soaked.

She was aware of the damp shirt clinging to her skin. Her shoes felt like they were leaving small puddles behind her every step. She definitely didn’t need to see in colour to know that her skirt had turned several shades darker too.

Sharing clothes wasn’t a common occurrence for her. In fact, her only exception was her sister, and that was because they were family. Hence, it was partly out of desperation that she considered borrowing someone’s gym clothes until her uniform dried.

Yet, it was also a reason for her to approach the quiet girl who sat in the corner of the class. The new student had caught her eye after transferring into her class a while ago, but Joohyun wasn’t the kind of person to randomly approach people. She had introduced herself to the class with a pretty smile and yet somehow, she always kept to herself. It was rare for Joohyun to see her speaking to other classmates and mingling unless it was for schoolwork. They weren’t in the same groups for project work, so Joohyun never had an opportunity to speak to her, which only made her more curious.

She had said barely a few words to her when her home room teacher entered the classroom. Slightly dejected at another missed opportunity, Joohyun quickly returned to her seat as the teacher began reading out the morning announcements.

A small tap on her shoulder surprised her after attendance taking. Not used to people randomly touching her, Joohyun had jumped in her seat. It was due to her reflexes after years of helping in a busy restaurant that she managed to prevent her stationary from rolling off the table.

It was the transfer student that stood next to her seat shyly, a set of gym clothes in hand.

“You’re Joohyun-ssi, right? Do you need a change of clothes?” The new girl asked her kindly. She hadn’t even managed to introduce herself properly before they had gotten interrupted. However, the girl apparently paid enough attention to remember her name. “I have gym later but I still have the new student excuse I can use, for this week at least.”

“I was actually going to offer a change of clothes earlier, even if you hadn’t come over just now. So feel free to take them.” She pointed to her clothes with a grin.

“Besides, I’d rather get in trouble while doing something to help you, than pretend I didn’t see anything and regret my inaction later.”

Joohyun’s heart skipped a beat and the unexpected gesture. It only lasted a second, but it was more than she had felt with any boy who had tried to hold her hand or given her a hug.

The way she had extended her help without hesitation, even going so far as to lie to a teacher, struck Joohyun. All for a person she had not spoken three words to.

Ultimately, that was what made Joohyun realise that despite being a new transfer student, this girl was unlike any of her other schoolmates. She never considered her initial favour as something that needed to be repaid, but rather just the right thing to do.

Joohyun had been in the same class as some of the students for 2 years; some even longer. She didn’t have any bad blood with them. They would greet one another and work together if necessary, but going out of their way to help was not something they would do without good reason or expecting something in return.

“If it’s really okay…” She managed to say. “Then could I borrow your clothes?”

“Of course! Let’s be friends, Joohyun-ssi.”

The way her cheeks heated up at the warm smile on her face had been new for her. It almost made her forget the sinking feeling when she realised that the uniform in her hand was still black and white.

However, the fact that they weren’t soulmates didn’t make the fluttering in her chest any less real. She still returned the smile and thanked her for the change of clothes. Later, Joohyun invited her for lunch and the two of them became inseparable.

Before her, Joohyun was unable to imagine having a friendship start over a favour. She had always been careful not to owe anyone anything, after seeing how a single moment of misplaced trust could cause a rift between people. It was too easy to get on a person’s bad side in school, and all Joohyun wanted was to graduate in peace.

Yet, nearly three years later, Joohyun couldn’t imagine going through school without her friend.

She had always been an introvert. Staying at home was always a more appealing option than going out. Yet, when her friend dragged her out to try the latest cafes, Joohyun couldn’t say no.

In a way, that was her introduction to many things. Motivated by an innocent curiosity, her friend was always encouraging her to want more and think more, and to give chances for things beyond the realm of what was considered possible. Through all her hesitance and uncertain moments, her friend was there to hold her hand and encourage her. Joohyun had even told her once, that no matter what happened in the future, whether they found their soulmates or remained living in black and white for life, that she would always be someone irreplaceable in her heart.

Thus, it was fitting that for someone like her, who saw the world for what it could be and not what it was, destiny also had a different path laid out.

It was New Year’s Eve when her friend had whispered a confession into the darkness. Everything had happened as per normal, sharing their favorite snacks and giggling while they talked after their supposed bed time. Joohyun was lying on her side, her breaths slowing as her friend continued to stare up at the ceiling.

“Hyun-ah, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while.” Joohyun had hummed in acknowledgement, her mind already half asleep. “My favourite colour is purple.”

In an instant, any notion of sleep evaporated as her eyes shot open. She had been expecting a secret relating to a crush, not something as groundbreaking as a colour bond.

It was as though she had been taken back to their first meeting, but the sinking feeling in her chest felt more like a black hole had opened up and consumed her.

She read that heartbreak felt different for everyone. For some, it was a constant ache that didn’t go away until one day it did. For others, it felt like a sledgehammer that slowly dissipated as time went by. To Joohyun however, it felt more like the acute sensation of hanging by a thread over the edge of a knife. Half of the pain was in the anticipation of the hurt, while the actual wound stung and festered.

Joohyun let her thoughts overtake the mild undercurrent of betrayal, for it was not something she was supposed to feel when a close friend was confessing something so personal. In a small community where people were quick to judge and slow to forgive, it was already difficult to find someone who was willing to listen and accept an opinion that was different from the norm. Hence, she forced herself to smile despite the churning in her stomach.

Amidst a few minutes of soft laughter and apologies for the secrecy, her friend gradually told her how it all happened.

How she had gone for a dance class with her cousin a few summers back, and on the way home, she realised the grass was green. How she had been so confused when she realised the sky and the sea were both the same colour yet entirely different. How at first, she contemplated telling her cousin, but realised that it was impossible to single out one person amongst a trial class of fifty people.

How she had decided to keep everything a secret to avoid questions until one rainy morning, when she saw a classmate run into class with her uniform soaked by the rain. How she had noticed the stark colour of her inner wear against her white blouse which had turned translucent, and felt the need to do something to save her the embarrassment of realising too late.

It was a long moment before Joohyun found it in her to speak again. Her fated friend, the girl who stole her gaze from the beginning and ended up meaning more to her than any supposed future soulmate, had been hiding this secret from her the entire time.

A feeling of uneasiness settled into Joohyun’s heart. The kind of bitter taste that was left behind when she ate one too many slices of watermelon. She had felt it before, when her mother had thrown away a shirt that she had gotten attached to. She had also felt it when her childhood playmate moved away the summer before elementary school. It was like the empty feeling she got while reading the last chapter of a book and wishing for more.

That was when she knew.

It must have been love, Joohyun had thought. It wasn’t the kind of love that would turn her world into colour, but it still had the potential to leave a scar.

Like any wound, she would heal. The girl lying next to her would still be a dear friend no matter how many years passed.

She felt the urge to protect her friend’s heart, but also a yearning to not be left behind. They were right next to one another, yet she couldn’t help but feel like there was a chasm between them at the knowledge that her friend was literally seeing a different world from her.

Joohyun bit her lip as she stared at the ceiling. The gentle glow from the moon casted parts of her room in shadow. In the stillness of the image, she felt a sense of calm.

Listening to her friend that night, she couldn’t help but feel a little envious. Joohyun had yet to experience what it felt like to open her eyes and see if the sky was really as blue as her friend said it was. She wanted to see what was so lovely about purple, for her friend to declare it as her favourite colour.

It wasn’t the first time Joohyun wanted something that she didn’t have, but it was the first time she wanted to chase something that was just out of her reach.

The feeling wasn’t entirely pure.

Instead, it felt like a mix of negative and positive sensations that left her on the brink of understanding how her friend must feel to finally see in colour. She couldn’t relate to the experience, but she was committed to supporting her friend no matter what.

For no other reason would she be persuaded to delay her shift at the restaurant and accompany her friend to an audition that was basically a waste of the afternoon.

If it had been anyone else, Joohyun knew, she would have immediately rejected them and wished them luck. However, this was the person that made her middle school days bearable and a lot less lonely than it could have been. So, Joohyun once again allowed herself to be dragged from her chores.

Her parents had waved her off, familiar with her best friend’s antics and with the consideration that Joohyun had already prepared most of the ingredients needed for the dinner rush.

They did one another’s makeup as best as they could, considering that the bulk of their experience was from watching tutorials on YouTube. Yet, all their anxieties about how they looked and dressed melted away the moment they entered the queue for the registration counter. They had other things to worry about.

“What are you going to audition for?” The counter staff had asked.

“Uh… the company?” Joohyun had answered uncertainly. Was there another answer she was supposed to give?

She received an unamused stare in return. “Funny, but there’s no category for comedians in this audition.”

“You’re supposed to pick a category between visuals, dance and vocals for you to be appraised in.” Her friend hissed behind her. Before she could do anything, however, a pen went over her arm and ticked the box under the title “dance”.

“Here.” She slid the paper back. “Just do the choreography from last winter’s talent show.”

Her friend was referring to the time she jokingly decided to choreograph a dance routine to TVXQ and perform it for the school. It had been fun at the time, but it had also been a long time since she had heard the song. However, her friend took the liberty of writing the song name and description on her behalf, making the decision for her.

The audition was as chaotic as she expected, considering she had literally prepared a few hours beforehand.

She held her breath as she walked onto the empty stage. The floor was made of cheap wood, which echoed as she stepped into the platform in front of a panel of people.

The murmuring fell silent as she introduced herself and answered their initial questions. One of them asked why she didn’t audition under the visuals category. Between throwing her friend under the bus and sounding unprofessional, and giving an indirect but more useful answer, Joohyun chose the latter and explained that being an artist was more than just related to external looks.

They gestured for her to begin her performance sooner than she expected. There was a moment of silence as she got into her beginning stance, while she waited for the song to play.

The moment the opening chords played, she felt her body move according to muscle memory. She wasn’t paying attention to the panel, or to the crowd watching the open space. All that mattered was the beats and how each step and movement led to another.

She remembered the day she choreographed her own movements to the song. It was a weekend where she and her friend were listening to a song that made it hard to sit still. The choreography was rough and she obviously wasn’t a professional, but it made both of them laugh and dance until they were too tired to continue.

In all honesty, a lot of things could have been better. There was an issue with the sound that delayed her performance by a few minutes. She made a few timing errors and her movements were not fluid. However, she kept her head up high and maintained her smile throughout the performance. That was how she noticed that despite her obvious inexperience, none of the people looked away from her until the music ended. It was like a spell breaking, because all the nerves, doubts and trembling, the things that had evaporated in the span of a few minutes, came rushing back.

Afterwards, as she walked off the stage, she noticed a few of the CEOs marking her registration sheet. Her heart was still beating as though she had run a marathon. Her face was warm, out of embarrassment probably, and a playback of her actions was running through her mind.

This must be love, Joohyun realized, or something akin to it.

The feeling of being on stage, everyone’s eyes trapped on her, unable to look away. She had felt it on a smaller scale when she performed in front of the school, but the gravity of the situation had increased tenfold. To perform a song was routine, but to capture the gaze of someone else and command a space in their mind, that was powerful. The moment the song started playing, she had felt it. It wasn’t even her own song, but the effect of being on stage was already electrifying.

She understood why singers said they could die on stage and be happy.

To love the stage and be loved for it, was a type of miracle on its own. A relationship th