“Drinks are on me tonight since I’ve been feeling strangely lavish.”

*

Sunha tried; she really did. Anything she could have done to extinguish her growing attraction for the prickly blonde, she had. She read through countless relationship advice columns and scoured the internet for love gurus (though that didn’t go too well because legitimate people with legitimate love lives don’t spin around in swivel chairs helping lovelorn girls like her)—anything, really—for a good method of distraction.

She finally decided to avoid Youngjae. It seemed the best bet by far.

However, a love-struck Youngjae was a determined Youngjae and your dutiful ex-crush made his way without fail to the quaint neighbourhood library Sunha volunteered at every Friday evening. You had even accompanied him a couple of times with the pretence of having nothing else better to do but to waste ticking seconds away, laughing at his sarcastic observations and competing on various silly games you both made up along the way. The skip in his step was probably because of Sunha, now that you’ve thought it over, and not because of your presence as your equally lovestruck-self had previously assumed.

“Look, he likes you too….it’s you that Youngjae likes.”

It’s 3 in the afternoon and you and Sunha have been sitting at the café for a little over an hour. The frappe you bought at half-price was near dry; a smidgen of whipped cream left, tainted brown by stray coffee bean bits that clung stubbornly to the plastic surface no matter how hard you scraped your straw against the sides.

Sunha’s eyes are wide open at the revelation and her breath escapes her tinted lips in a slight gasp. She looks like a deer caught in the headlights and you find it funny (but laughing now would seem inappropriate, so you swallow the impending chortle with an inhumane sound). You can’t stop your lips from curling up into a smile. Yet, it doesn’t reach your eyes as she stutters out a disbelieving, “What?”

*

“B-b-but Yoo Youngjae is not just a guy,” Himchan stutters out, his disbelief translates to his furrowed brow and he proceeds to further remind you of Youngjae’s previous importance to you. Himchan seems livid with his big gestures and embarrassing loud voice (everyone within a 5 meter radius would’ve sympathize with your tale), “It’s The Yoo Youngjae. The genius with a million different peculiarities. The crush you’ve had for the past TWO years. The Yoo-”

A piece of dried squid finds itself lodged within the confines of Himchan’s large mouth and he cringes as the salty flavour of the preserved bit of mollusk hits his taste buds.

“Can you stop being such a drama queen for the love of all things sane?” Scowling at him, you belatedly stuff a larger slice of squid down his throat for good measure. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"But you haven't spoken to Sunha in the past six months." Himchan says this like he knows everything, equipped with an all-knowing nod and condescending tone. You scoff because what does he know?

"Five months, to be slightly more precise. But it doesn’t matter." You've been friends with Sunha since your diaper-wetting days and the both of you were the tightest duo of duos that ever existed. Till Yoo Youngjae happened.

“But it does, Dollface. It does matter.” You had promised yourself that you’d handle the entire situation with poise befitting a queen. And yet, the days following the Café Confrontation served to prove that you had barely enough grace to light a bulb. To make his point, Himchan proceeds to remind you and everyone else (5 meter radius) of your Dark Ages.

The first week had nights of you drunk dialling a frustrated and very upset Himchan. The time difference meant that you called during classes and it frustrated him that even when he picked up your calls, he couldn’t respond to your slurred questions nor comfort your drunken sobs. It upset him because there was nothing he could do from so far away.

The next two weeks had you moping around in your PJs, refusing outside contact except for the pizza delivery boy. This left an annoyed Himchan phoning (calls you left unanswered), FB nudging (notifications left unread) and finally, sending a concerned Yongguk to your doorsteps (you slam the door on him when you recall not ordering any pizza).

(Fun fact: No one slams the door on Bang Yongguk. But you’re already back to bumming on the couch and it’s humanly impossible to reach the doorknob from way over there.)

(Fun fact 2: Bang Yongguk has the key to the house. And he lets himself in with said key. Because it’s his house.)

*

“You have my blessings.” The cream from the frappe is starting to leave you queasy and you feel a fart forming in the deep recesses of your bowels. You need to end this soon. “The both of you, be happy. Together.”

“But what about you? ...what about us?” Sunha is a sentimental girl and her eyes brim with tears. The last thing she wanted was to ruin the friendship you shared, it was the very thing she was avoiding. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that too. But pride, pride blinds the heart.

“I’ll be fine. It might take me a while but I’ll find my happiness too. And when I do, we’ll be alright.” You offer up a final smile. A goodbye. Letting go of your plastic cup, you straighten up and with nary a glimpse back, you walk out.

Pride is a scary thing.

The fresh air does your tummy good with the fart seemingly dissipated. Yet, you feel like a load of crap.

Inside, Sunha lets the tears fall as she whispers to the vacant chair still moulded with your form, “I’ll miss you, bestie.”

*

Himchan does not let up about Youngjae even after he’s pulled up in front of your driveway. He doesn’t unlock the doors, instead, he levels his almond eyes on you. “We’re not done. I’m not gonna stop till you tell me how you really feel.”

Exasperated that the only thing you’ve talked about since he’s gotten back was about Youngjae, you lose your temper. “What do you want me to say, Kim Himchan? You know what? No, I’m not fine! I can’t get over Youngjae! I’m still in love with that OCD freak. Will that answer satisfy you? Will my lying get you off my case?”

“No,” he replies ten decibels lower, “because I know when you’re lying and I know when you’re being truthful to yourself about how you feel.”

“I just….,” you take a moment to gather your thoughts as you gaze out the window. Himchan just waits, patiently. As he has always had. “I am over him,” you say this with conviction, because you know that you are, “I’m just not over it. Whatever it is.”

Fear is also a scary thing.

“Tell you what,” he quips, a smile dancing at the corners of his lips and you feel the change in the atmosphere, “we’ll flip a coin.”

Confused is what you are because your confession and coin flipping are completely unrelated. “Why are we flippi-”

“Heads or tails?”

“No, I’m not choosing ‘til-”

“Hurry, pick or I’ll kiss you!” His puckered lips get closer but the damned doors are still locked.

“Uhm, heads.”

Himchan flips the coin up with a flick and in a singsong manner chants, “Heads, I’ll be yours and Tails, you’re mine.” You barely have time to register your options before the boy is celebrating his win and shooing you out of his now unlocked doors.

“I’ll pick you up at 10 tomorrow. Go now, Love before I change my mind and take you home with me.”

*

The new Himchan was the scariest.

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Coming back to this story after more than a year is, wow. I'm just glad I'm even back.

You know how you start off a journey with a destination in mind, yeah? And then when it’s all over, you realize you've reached but you've taken a different road than the one you first mapped out? That's exactly how I feel about Are We There Yet? tho I do think it's cute how this journey analogy fits with the title heh.

A lovely commenter on my other fic, Adventures of The Four Musketeers is what actually prompted me to return to this. I've been struggling with feeling like a subpar writer. Or at least one who writes with a non-conventional style. But here's to room for improvement! And to the lovely @bluechainsblackpearl for being such a sweetheart.