August 1. Around 10 pm.

We were packing up.

Stressed, I circle my co-members (Joy and Seulgi) strayed around our room, keeping a lookout for something.

Something I’m thoroughly sure that was supposed to exist.

“Where is my luggage?” I ask the other two.

Seulgi cranes her neck and smiles at me, “It seems like we can’t find it. So right now, we’re going to share this big one.” She pats the yellow, large luggage situated beside her.

“What?” I say incredulously. “What if our clothes get mixed up, genius?”

“Then that’d be wonderful, wouldn’t it?” Joy muses. “Imagine Wendy unnie wearing Seulgi unnie’s bra— very wonderful.”

We both glared at the younger member. Seulgi’s offended because she’s flat-chested. I’m offended because I’m not flat-chested.

Joy whistles and eases back away from us to get busy with her own luggage.

I turn back to Seulgi, “Okay, fine— let’s just put a cardboard or something as a barrier to separate our clothes.” I supply, “And help me pack up.” I add as Seulgi makes a way to leave.

Seulgi mutters something under her breath as we both fill the luggage with the stuff we need to bring.

August 1. Los Angeles Airport.

I’m surprised by the number of people who arrive to check up on us. We didn’t know we had this amount of fans in America.

I seriously want to wave and greet them because I’m feeling enthusiastic but there was this conflict I’m struggling with— our luggage.

“Seulgi you might wanna help me drag this.” I tell her and show her how much I’m having difficulties with the luggage twice my size.

Seulgi just grins at me easily, “Tell you what— it’s your turn to pull this right now, but once we get to the hotel it’s my turn.”

“What?”

“Keep it up, Seungwan.” Seulgi then does something unexpected— and pats my stomach three times with her hand, “You know you don’t have this abs for nothing, right?”

I’m left dumbfounded.