loneliness:

the state of being alone in solitary isolation.

JHS

The girl’s hand reached out to her boyfriend’s arm, barely skimming the burgundy velvet fabric before stopping herself and yanking her fingers back. “You look soft, but those noonas look like they want to hurt me.” Hyunah could barely make out the words from across the rest area where she sat, uncomfortably, in her skin-tight silver dress. She folded her legs neatly, making sure everything was covered up (the stylists were getting more and more risqué, and as interesting as it was to make Broadcasting Review Committee cringe, her reputation wasn’t as pretty as it used to be) and leaned her head on her hand, pretending she wasn’t eavesdropping or creep-staring at the couple in front of her.

Indeed, the busy women who bustled and brushed against each other, through and around the copious racks of clothing, were giving the other girl looks of disapproving suspicion. There was no doubt that they had plenty of work to do (both Hyunah and Hyunseung changed at least four different times for the video) and having an outsider trying to their masterpiece of velvety suit would undoubtedly create some other unseen wrinkle or microscopic lint that they would have to fix.

Hyunseung didn’t say anything, taking the other girl’s hand back into his and toying with her fingers; she quietly started whistling the tune for the song.

Hyunah studied them. The girl was sitting on a white table, with random half-empty bottles of water and makeup sponges and clothes hangers scattered around her. Hyunseung was leaning back into a chair, tired, with trace amounts of sweat that needed to be hidden lingering around his hairline; her legs were comfortably entwined with his. Natural. Like when trees grow close together and their branches get to mingle, swaying with each other when the wind blows.

“Don’t do that,” he half-groaned, leaning his head down onto her tight-clad knee (she was very fashionable, which wasn’t any surprise coming from Hyunseung’s tastes; her mother also owned a dry-cleaning shop, Hyunah knew, which might’ve helped a bit) –the snap of the coordi-noonas necks as they sensed his teased hair flattening was audible, but they had the sense to let him have his moment. The sets needed to be changed anyway… they had to dance in a different white room this time. “I’m so tired of that song.”

“It’s catchy,” the girl said, pulling her hand out of his to rub his shoulders through his suit jacket.

She couldn’t even find the heart to be resentful of them. The girl had come to their sets enough times for Hyunah to see their flawless match in all of its glory, and had come to the conclusion that it was chemistry. Or biology, whichever. Two people had never been so perfect for each other, Hyunah was sure. It was in the way he looked at her when she laughed, his fond smile as he watched her bury her face into his shoulder, gasping for breath, the way that they fit together like puzzle pieces, even though they were only allowed so much space between them. The way that they could make themselves be the only two people in a room of over seventy.

Great. Wonderful. Splendid. Perfect.

She was genuinely happy for them and it burned.

The girl had idly started whistling again as she kneaded his overworked muscles.

“Stooopp,” he moaned, propping his chin up on her thigh and looking at her through lined eyes. She grinned and leaned close, whistling inches away from his face.

Hyunah didn’t want to take that girl’s place. She and Hyunseung were physically very close for the entirety of the music video, that was true, but it was professional. It was almost kind of ironic, how much physical contact they actually had versus… well, anything else, really. Hyunah didn’t think that they’d ever even talked outside of “Do you mind if we run that through again?”s during practices, but it wasn’t like she minded. Hyunseung wasn’t her type, but he was pleasant to work with and that was all that mattered. She wasn’t envious of the closeness that the girl had with him at all.

But as Hyunah watched him mischievously smirk and steal a kiss from that girl’s puckered lips, she was jealous. Not because she wanted him, not because she didn’t like the other girl, not even for the cuteness of the moment. She was jealous because she had no one like that in her life; no one that loved her like that at all. And she wanted it.

JHS

Author's Note: Sup guys! It's been about a month, right? Meh, sorry. School has been insane. It's like they lull you into a false sense of security and make you think their classes aren't nearly as hard as you thought they were going to be, and then BAM! they're harder than you thought they were going to be. It's , it really is. So I took a bit of time off, but my creativity has been nagging me to come back.. so here I am~!

Obviously this was in part inspired by the new Trouble Maker video, which is amazing (if you haven't seen it yet, link is here). Oh so y. But it's also inspired by, you know, personal stuff. A beautiful moment (or a series of them) that I witnessed today that I want for myself. So I just decided to write it out and I think it turned out pretty okay.

And even though you'll never read this, Dustin and Chantella, I wish you the best of luck. You guys are gorgeous.