previously in the last chapter: aeri's bday party and minjeong roasted tf out of jimin

/ / / / 

If anyone wanted to know how Jimin retired for the night, one would think Jimin was a sad, emotional drunk. There she was, distraught and anguished, fueled by alcohol, laid out on her bed, hugging her mom’s pig-rabbit stuffed animal, crying her eyes out listening to ballads after ballads, to the croons of FT Island and Monday Kiz. She may or may not have wiped her snot on her wrist; the mucous would dry up on her skin anyway and she can wash it off in the morning. No one is to judge what one does in the bedroom.

“You make my life complete~”

And the familiar piano tune plays once more, making Girls’ Generation’s “Complete” track loop number 16. Jimin cries harder, curling into herself, hugging Mr. Pig Rabbit so tightly that the cotton stuffing between its neck and torso had a visible divide.

Jimin never had a friend, never had anyone, who gave her such constructive criticism that blunt.

/ / / /

“And we’re going to start right now,” Minjeong refers to the litter of their dorm room. “Help me clean up?” Minjeong gently asks. “Smile through it for Aeri and Yizhuo, smile for me too.”

Jimin’s lip trembled. She couldn’t even hear the last part of what Minjeong said, focusing so much on withholding her crybaby tears. No, she mustn’t cry. But it’s too much, this whiplash of volatile emotions—dizzy, light, ashamed, fearful, soothing.

“Come on Karina, up you go.” Minjeong pulls Jimin up and hands her an empty beer can.

“Think we can finish in 30? If we don’t, I’ll ask Shindong-oppa to teach us the latest Suju’s choreography after dance practice.” Minjeong smirked.

Although still sluggish, Jimin recognizes a hard no when she sees one. “I rather delay my debut than have Shindong-oppa teach us how to dance.”

Minjeong threw her head back and laughed. “Well then.”

/ / / /

Lowering the volume so she could concentrate, Jimin grabs her phone and looks at her old social media profile, nostalgic of the happier girl when all she had to do was look pretty and go through the motions of a public education system. She opens the camera app and really looks at herself. Eyes puffy, cheeks swollen, and nose red. Disgusting. What has she become? So feeble, crying like this. She exits the app and grabs her notebook, mulling over the thought of being reborn, into the idol she needed to be, into Karina. It’s what Minjeong called her earlier.

That’s what she has to be, right?

Jimin opens her notebook, one that holds years of miscellaneous to-do lists (“compliment Yizhuo, take pictures with Aeri, hug Minjeong, see feel Wendy’s abs in-person”), doodles (Shinchan, Pororo, and Crong on a rocketship), and positive affirmations (“Don’t blame the test, do better!”).

Twirling the pen in her hand, she tries visualizing Karina, what does Karina do to start her day? What does she think about when she looks in the mirror? What would Karina do right this instant?

“Knock knock, zao an!”

“Hello, haiza maseu!”

Jimin squeaks and pauses the music.

“What are you doing still up?” Aeri asks.

Jimin shuffles to make room for the two girls to sit and hang out with her on the bed.

“How do you know I was still up?” Jimin taunts with her pretty teeth.

“Easy. Minjeong’s lights were off and we heard nothing. While you,” Yizhuo gestures her arms to the entirety of her bedroom, “still have your lights on and we could hear the 9-part vocal harmony when we put our ears close enough.”

“Aish… you eavesdroppers. I really like Girls’ Generation…” Jimin says meekly, embarrassed being caught in her sad girl era.

“You also look like me the night they gave me bangs,” Yizhuo pulls her hair out from her ear, “I’m still recovering.”

“You look like me last year when that senile old man harassed me for being Japanese and called the police because he wanted me deported.”

“Oh wow, girl, that took a turn.”

Jimin smiles. “It’s ok. I get it. It’s your way of telling me I don’t look good.”

Jimin breathes and composes herself.

Talk. To. Us.

Yes, the criticism, thanks for the reminder, brain. Jimin studies the two girls once more, gauging how much she should reveal. Aeri is stifling a yawn and Yizhuo is listening with her eyes closed.

And so Jimin begins.

/ / / /

Yizhuo clasps her hands together, chin on her hands, “You’re telling me, that you’re sad because you have a crush on a girl who works in SM? And you were avoiding your crush because you’re a useless gay but Minjeong thinks you were avoiding us because you have anxiety?”

“Do you have anxiety?” Aeri questions.

“No,” Jimin replies. “I get nervous like anybody else for big events in my life, but I’m not diagnosed with it. Are you guys?”

“Not that I know of,” “It’s between me and God and God doesn’t want to share,”

Aeri nods before continuing, “It also sounds like you’re sad because you felt pressured to come out to Minjeong when you weren’t ready, right? Thanks for sharing, by the way, you’re good with us, bestie.” she squeezes Jimin’s knee reassuringly. “Honestly, I thought you were avoiding me because you guys were planning my surprise birthday party.”

“Ah that’s right. You both have similar hair tones.” Jimin remarks, absentmindedly.

“Your crush has blonde hair???” Aeri’s eyes widened, excited, grooming the ends of her dark blonde locks and checking out its color.

“Forget that girl and forget Minjeong though! She can’t force you to be extroverted all the time, that’s exhausting.”

“Minjeong can’t but SM can. Do you remember if SM wanted you to be extroverted? Did that staff member say that, Yizhuo?”

“M’amm, that was so long ago, I can’t remember if the staff member was a man or a woman. All I remember was they said, kAriNA wAs fINe tHe wAy sHE wAsssss,”

“Oh my god, dude!” Aeri blurts out, cackling, Yizhuo screeches, and Jimin waved them to stop clapping their hands, laughing like seals. It was so late in the morning, she’s afraid she could wake someone up and they could hear this sacred conversation they’re having.

“I don’t know, I just…” Jimin furrows her eyebrows to figure out a way to vocalize her psyche, “It just feels c