A/N: This started as a random snippet I wrote on my phone without a pairing in mind. I never thought about writing it out into a fic, nor did I think the fic would be so angsty. Oops.

“What do you think is worse: meeting the right person at the wrong time or not meeting them at all?”

Jessica isn’t even surprised by the question, even though it came randomly in the middle of casual conversation. It’s typical Tiffany: romantic and whimsical. Jessica used to find it strange, even laughable; now she finds it endearing.

“How about meeting the right person at the right time?”

Tiffany makes a face. “...That wasn’t an option.”

“It never is, is it?” Jessica says wryly.

“Well,” Tiffany looks at her expectantly. “Answer the question.”

Jessica takes a moment to think it over, avoiding Tiffany’s eyes as she does so. It’s hard to think with the force of Tiffany’s gaze on her.

“I’d rather meet them.”

“Why?”

“Because even if we had just one day together, I’d rather have had that one day with them than a lifetime without them.”

Jessica clears right after the words escape her – that’s what it feels like, not her saying the words so much as them leaving of their own volition. Tiffany is looking at her, quiet for once even though her eyes are anything but.

“That was cheesy,” Jessica says with a weak smile.

“No, it was…very sincere.” Tiffany smiles back, and it’s small but certainly not weak. Jessica still can’t tell what Tiffany is thinking at all. Then again, she rarely can. For all of Tiffany’s cheerful openness, it just makes her harder to read when it comes down to it.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Jessica says. “Which one do you think is worse?”

Tiffany blinks very slowly, lashes casting long shadows on her cheekbones, eyes looking darker than ever. Jessica finds herself holding her breath and trying to save this moment, to tattoo it behind her eyelids, grasp it in her palm, tuck it in her pocket.

“I like what you said,” Tiffany says quietly. “Option C.”

Jessica doesn’t call her out on avoiding the question. There’s something about the look in her eyes, like something will unravel in her if she’s pushed.

“Option C,” Jessica agrees, and wishes.

They return to light conversation, to talking about coffee (Tiffany likes hers with enough cream and sugar to make dessert, while Jessica likes hers just with a caramel shot) and seasons (Tiffany wants to see and play in snow, while Jessica just wants the sun to be lazier) and pets (Tiffany wants a dog while Jessica wants a cat).

“Knowing you, you’d probably name your dog something stu—questionable.”

“What do you mean, stupid?” Tiffany says indignantly. “What’s wrong with my naming skills?”

“You named your goldfish Goldie and your hamster Chubby.”

“My goldfish was gold and my hamster was chubby!”

“What are you going to name your dog – Fluffy?”

“What’s wrong with Fluffy as a name?” Tiffany stares at Jessica with wide, wounded eyes. “It’s totally cute. Actually, that’s a great idea. I’m going to write that down.”

“You—” Jessica closes . She’s learned through experience that it’s wiser not to argue with Tiffany when she has her mind set on something. “Okay, Tiff,” she ends up saying. She says that a lot; indulgently, affectionately.

Okay, Tiff, let’s make muffins from scratch instead of buying the pre-made boxed mix. (They ended up burning all three batches and just buying cupcakes instead.) Okay, Tiff, let’s skip class and go to that water park we saw on the way to the mall. (The water was shut off because of pipeline repairs, and they ended up sitting under a tree talking for the entire afternoon instead.) Okay, Tiff, let’s climb a tree to help the baby bird that fell out of its nest. (Jessica fell off a branch and badly sprained her ankle, but Tiffany was the one who cried.) Okay, Tiff, let’s.

“Jessi?”

She snaps out of it, realizing that the corners of are turned upward. “Huh?”

Tiffany’s looking at her so intently that it could be called a stare. Tiffany looks at her like that a lot. “What are you smiling about?”

“Just—remembering some of the things we got up to,” Jessica says. “The questionable things you talked me into.”

“And by questionable, you mean stupid?” Tiffany says wryly.

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“I guess I do have some questionable ideas sometimes.” Tiffany drops her head, her bangs falling over her eyes.

“It’s okay. We’ve had some great times due to your questionable ideas.”

“We have, haven’t we?” Tiffany murmurs, sounding almost like she’s talking to herself.

“Yeah.” Jessica wishes that Tiffany would look up, or at least brush her hair out of her eyes. She doesn’t like not being able to see Tiffany’s eyes. “And we’ll continue to have them. I’m sure you’re not going to run out of questionable ideas anytime soon.”

“Jessica.” She freezes up at the use of her full name. Tiffany raises her head, and the look in her eyes is so grave that Jessica wishes her bangs were in the way again. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m.” Tiffany breaks off for a second, but then ploughs on the way she always does. “I’m going to Seoul.”

“Seoul?” Jessica repeats numbly. “In Korea?”

“Yes, in Korea.” Tiffany’s eyes are dark with something Jessica can’t name but feels all too acutely. “SM Entertainment casted me and I’m going to go to Korea and train under them.”

Tiffany’s going to Korea. Tiffany’s going to train under SM. Tiffany’s going; she’s leaving. Leaving America, leaving California, leaving Jessica.

“You’re going to be an idol.”

“I’m going to train to be an idol,” Tiffany corrects. “There’s no telling whether I’ll make it.”

“You’ll make it,” Jessica says. Of course Tiffany is. If she can’t, who will? “You’re going to be an idol. A star.”

And Jessica will be here, watching, wishing, waiting.

“It’s my dream,” Tiffany says quietly, like she’s justifying something.

“I know.”

“It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time.”

“I know,” Jessica repeats, “and I’m really happy you’ve achieved it. I’m really happy for you, Tiff.”

And she means it. She knows how badly Tiffany wants this, has always wanted this, and of course she wants Tiffany to have it, to have anything and everything she wants. Jessica just wishes that she were part of that list.

Tiffany looks at Jessica for a long moment, and Jessica is alarmed to see that her eyes are wet. “I’m sorry, Jessi,” she whispers.

“For what?” Jessica fights to keep her voice steady. “For pursuing your dream? You shouldn’t be sorry for that.”

Tiffany’s eyes are bright, glimmering with unshed tears and something else. “I’m sorry that it’s the wrong time. I’m sorry that we couldn’t have option C.”

Jessica tries to say something, but closes up on her. She and Tiffany have been dancing around this for so long, around this—attraction or whatever you would call it, toeing the line between friendship and something more. Jessica has never stepped foot past the line, never let her lips graze Tiffany’s cheek after whispering something in her ear, never let her arm linger for long around Tiffany’s shoulders, never let herself cross that line lest that she take the plunge and fall.

In reality, she’s already fallen long ago, but maybe she’s only hitting the ground now.

Jessica clears . “When are you going to Korea?”

“Next Friday.”

“Next Friday,” Jessica repeats. That leaves them exactly a week. “Do you want to—” She trails off, unsure of how to finish that question. There are too many things that she wants with Tiffany, from Tiffany. Too many firsts that she didn’t dare to imagine, too many lasts that she thought would never come.

“Yes,” Tiffany says. “I want to.” She blurs the last t, and Jessica can’t tell whether she’s saying ‘I want to’ or ‘I want you.’ “But.”

But?

“I’m not you, Jessi. I. That one day wouldn’t be enough for me. Would never be enough. So I would rather just not have it at all, so it wouldn’t haunt me later.” Tiffany’s eyes are still wet but the tears aren’t spilling over, like she’s holding them back through sheer force of will. Knowing Tiffany, she probably is. “I’m sorry.”

Jessica just shakes her head, and she doesn’t know if she means don’t be sorry or just don’t.

“I have a lot of things to prepare before next Friday,” Tiffany says, and Jessica can’t help but wonder if one of those things is to forget her. “I-I probably won’t see you much.”

“Maybe that’s for the best.” Jessica’s voice comes out sounding robotic, and she pretends she doesn’t see the way Tiffany flinches.

“Yeah,” Tiffany says softly. “Maybe.” She looks at Jessica for another moment, one that stretches between them like a ribbon. Jessica is afraid to blink, to breathe, for fear that she’ll tear it. Tiffany is the first to look away. “I have to go, Jessi,” she says, and Jessica doesn’t know if she means she has to leave right now or she has to leave, period.

“Right.”

“I’ll—I’ll see you later.”

Jessica just nods, past the point of speech, and Tiffany turns to leave. She makes it three steps and then she turns around.

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come with me. To Korea.”

Jessica makes a sound of incredulity. “Are you—what are you saying?”

“I’ve heard you sing. You have a great voice. And you’re beautiful. You can make it. With me.” Tiffany says it like it’s a future she can see. “We can do this together.”

“Tiffany.” Jessica can’t even pinpoint the ache she feels; it’s everywhere and nowhere at once. “You know I have no interest in the entertainment industry. That’s not what I want to do with my life.”

“I know,” Tiffany says. “I told myself I wouldn’t ask. But.”

But.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” Jessica says. “I want to see you in SM’s top girl group, okay? I won’t settle for anything less than that.”

Tiffany smiles, and Jessica pretends she doesn’t see the way trembles at the corners. Pretends she doesn’t want to cover that unsure smile with her own mouth until it turns sure and steady, until she can ease the ache inside her if only for a moment.

“Thank you, Jessica.”

“I mean it, Tiffany.”

They look at each other, stare at each other, again, and this time Jessica is the one who breaks eye contact. This time Jessica is the one to turn and walk away, because she knows that if she doesn’t, she’ll never let Tiffany go. She knows that if Tiffany asks her again to come with her, she’ll agree. She knows that there is no option C here, there is only the right person at the wrong time.

A/N: I've started a sequel here!