Chapter Text
The first thing Mira noticed was the burning of the smoke. It was clinging in her throat and her mouth, leaving a dry taste in her mouth. It was suffocating, really suffocating. The kind of suffocating in which you wish you could rip out your own lungs just to put the air into them. The next thing she noticed was Zoey. Zoey sat in front of her bin, which is on fire. getting the full force of the smoke. Mira’s few seconds of frozen panic had passed, and she found her legs moving before she could process it. All she knew was she needed to get Zoey away from the flame. Mira darted across the hot room and grabbed her girlfriend by the shoulder. Zoey seemed to have very little reaction to being grabbed. Her eyes remained fixed on the fire in her bin. Mira quickly moved her into the hallway before darting back into the room. Mira grabbed the bin with a nearby blanket. It was practically burning her hands from the heat. She ran with it to the balcony before darting through to the kitchen to grab some water to put the flame out.
The entire time Zoey remained in the hall; eventually her legs gave out, and she slowly moved to be sitting on the ground of the hall, listening to her girlfriends swears and panicked noises. She felt bad for letting Mira deal with the mess she had made, but as part of her wish, she’d let the burnings go on longer; there were still many more notebooks to go.
Eventually, Mira comes into the hall, her eyes piercing Zoey. Zoey tried to read them. She always liked Mira’s eyes. They were the kind of brown that reminded her of a doe. When she first met Mira, she thought her eyes being the same colour as a doe was rather ironic because of their slim shape, but also because it felt completely contradictory to her personality. Since getting to know Mira and falling in love with her, Zoey realised the doe-coloured eyes make perfect sense. Mira may seem scary or cold, but really, she was gentle, more sensitive than you’d think, and a little skittish. Zoey usually loves her eyes, but right now, as they stare into her rather than at her, they make Zoey feel nauseous. The shame Zoey feels in her gut is enough to make her cute. The smell of smoke clings to the two of them the way guilt clings to Zoey.
“I’m sorry.” Zoey’s voice cracks.
“I’m sorry.” The words come out harsher this time.
“I’m sorry.” The words are louder.
Suddenly, the words are spilling from Zoey's mouth before she can stop them. They stop making sense to her, and her mouth just makes the shapes. Mira stands, still just watching, before slowly crouching down and reaching a steady hand out to Zoey’s. It grabs it with strength but not a bad one. It pulls the shaking body to its feet.
“Let’s go to my room,” Mira says.
The two move through the home. The light pouring into the home has stopped, and Zoey realises it must be dark now. How long was she in that room? How long had she sat with the smoke? There is no sign of Rumi anywhere in the home. It’s quiet, and there are no signs of her shoes anywhere. Mira cracks her bedroom door open and leads Zoey onto the bed. She carefully sits her down on the bed before shutting her own bedroom door. Mira moves to the edge of the bed in which Zoey sits and carefully kneels in front of her.
“Zoey”, Mira starts in a choked-up voice.
“What the hell was that?”
Mira spoke the last sentence in a seemingly flat tone, but Zoey could hear the difference. She could hear the shake on the first syllable, the subtle crack halfway through, and the gulp at the end of her words. She was upset, distraught even. Mira always prided herself on being able to hold it together, to not crack when she was needed. Zoey could tell how she really felt, and it killed her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Zoey, I know you’re sorry. I need to know why.” Mira’s voice became slightly harder but not mean.
Zoey lets out a sigh. She doesn't know how to explain it. That her lyrics aren’t good enough, she’s not Korean enough, the fans have no more love to give her and that she’s failed the group and has let herself be bested by a bunch of demons. How does somebody phrase that?
“I don’t know.” Zoey lies.
Because she does know, she knows exactly why, but sometimes it's easier and more comforting to lie than spill the truth. She hears a huff of anger as Mira stands up and moves away from the bed. She walks around the room to calm herself down.
“Zoey, you just set god knows WHAT on fire in your room, and you don't know why.” Mira's voice was harsh that time. It made Zoey flinch.
“It was my notebooks,” Zoey admits.
It's a small admission, and it wouldn't mean much to anyone else, but Mira understood the weight of the words as she too could now feel it lingering on her shoulders.
“Your notebooks”, Mira said, getting quieter.
She kneels back down in front of Zoey and holds her hands.
“You burnt your notebooks?”
The question lingers in the air. Mira knew Zoey didn't always love her art, but she had never destroyed any of it before. She had kept every notebook she had ever filled, and she kept them well. They were a treasure and, in Mira's eyes, a gift that she still had so much from when she was younger and could reflect on what she once thought was good enough to fill her paper. A simple nod of the head was the only answer Zoey gave.
“Why?” Mira asked.
Zoey said nothing; a glint of sadness took over her eyes, but no words left her mouth, which had now transformed into a tight, thin line.
“Zoey, why?”
Mira settled down on both knees, practically begging Zoey for an answer. They were in the most stressful period of her life, and the woman she loved was burning her past in an old metal rubbish bin. More now than ever did they need Zoey's lyrics, and she was sat burning them like they didn't matter at all. The world needed her lyrics.
Zoey’s head fell, her eyes burning holes into the ground. Her teeth found the soft part of her cheek and tore it apart. The blood had a calming taste on her tongue as she planned what to say. The words hurt more than the hole in her cheek.
“They weren’t enough, I'm sorry,” Zoey whispers. She meant it.
“What?” Mira says, sounding perplexed.
“They're not good.” Zoey answers.
She makes sure to conveniently leave out the part in which she's also not good enough. Partly because of shame and partly because she hopes Mira hasn’t realised that she's not enough yet.
“Zoey. Of course they’re good.” Mira utters
Zoey lets out a wet laugh.
“No, they’re not.” Zoey’s voice sounds more upset for Mira than for herself.
“Why would you think that?” Mira says.
She leaves no room for pause before continuing.
“Zoey, in what world would they be bad? Why would you think that?” Mira asks in a slightly angry tone.
“Oh Mira, everyone knows they are.” Zoey responds.
The way she says the words throws Mira for a loop. Zoey sounds sad for her, like there is something she isn't getting. It sounds like Zoey knows for a fact that her words aren't good, like Mira is the only one who doesn't see it. It breaks her heart into pieces. She knew Zoey struggled with appreciating her own work but discarded it for the simple belief that it wasn't good enough. That hurt everyone. Zoey was amazing at what she did. Her lyrics were something to be admired and cherished. She had spent so long on her craft, and every bit of time spent was worth it. Mira wishes she had half the capabilities Zoey had when it came to music.
“No, Zoey. Everyone loves your lyrics. Look at the impact they've had on everyone.”
Mira pleaded.
“Well, nobody loves them anymore.” Zoey spits out.
“Or me, for that matter,” she whispers.
Mira makes Zoey interpret it as a very offended sound. To Mira, it is the sound of dying. Her heart is dying. The girl she loves has seemed to have lost love for herself. A wave of confusion swims through Mira; where the hell had she gotten this idea?
“First of all. I love you,” Mira starts.
“Second of all, people love your work. The fans don’t sing our songs for nothing, y’know. And the fans love you too. Hell, it would be kind of hard not to.”
The irony of the statement isn't lost on Zoey. She laughs, a vacant laugh. The sound alone was the pure oxymoron of a laugh. It wasn’t gleeful or even mildly amused. It was a laugh but had none of the subsistence that a laugh had. It seemed more like a stuttered scream. Mira was afraid. For the amount of joy and love within her soul, the sound that left Zoey felt as if none of those things had ever existed at all.
“Baby”, Mira asked, not really expecting an answer.
Mira wasn’t one for pet names. She found them tacky and a cheap way of expressing love, but she knew Zoey liked them. For some reason Zoey found them cute, a nice way of showing affection without having to share a spiel about your love.
“Have you not seen what they said at all?” Zoey asked.
“No,” Mira responds.
“Check your phone; look at the golden post,” Zoey says in a soft voice.
Zoey falls back onto the bed and allows her body to slightly bounce from the mattress. It was soft. Zoey and Mira bought the same kind of mattress because the softness of it reminded them of the couch. She lay there in her mind, not really taking notice of Mira anymore. She was aware of her presence but not anything deeper than that. This was the first time she had truly breathed in hours and just thought. Not thinking in a specific way for something but just thinking. Existing in a moment. Almost as if she didn’t have the whole world to save.
Her ears picked up on the hitch of a breath, an aggressive tap of a finger on a screen and a beating of a foot against the ground. Her head remained stable on the bed, but her eyes slowly drifted towards Mira. The tips of her ears were a puce red, and the tips of her fingers were turning a slight shade of white against the phone screen. Zoey resisted the urge to shout over ‘I told you so’ because she knew it wasn’t the time and that Mira was probably upset at the love for the Saja Boys. She allowed her eyes to drift to the ceiling again.
“Zoey, you read this and believed it.” Mira speaks into the dead silent room.
The words startled Zoey more than she thought. Not that she was expecting that sentence. She was expecting a silent admission of defeat. A realisation, not a rhetorical question.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Zoey counters.
Why wouldn’t she? It was all words and phrases she had thought before, except now they were in words, and not just words from her. The truth always burns; that was a sentiment shared by HUNTR/X. It was allowed to hurt; lies only fed faulty egos.
“Because it’s bullshit!” Mira says, her voice verging on a shout.
Zoey sits up on the bed. It was sweet in a way that Mira was trying to defend her. The truth would hit soon; like a dose of medication that took a minute too long to hit, it would come, and it would hit hard. The realisation was near; the effects were coming soon.
Mira grabs Zoey's torso and pulls her into a bone-crushing hug. Her feet lift from the ground from the weight she is held. It’s sweet and something Zoey needed, really needed. If only she realised she needed it sooner. Her head fell onto Mira’s shoulder, and she felt a hand move off her back to move to lightly play with the parts of her hair that were loose.
“Oh, why would you believe that?” Mira mutters.
“It was all true.” Zoey whispers.
The fingers in her hair are still, and the arm on her back pushes her in closer. The pair rock back and forth for a little while.
“Zoey, it's lies, all lies.” Mira tells her.
“No, it’s not. I’m sorry, but it's not.” Zoey can’t help but apologise.
“No, Zoey, they're under the spell of Gwi-Ma. They can’t form their own opinion.” Mira counters
“But they’re all saying things that are true.” Zoey whispers.
“What things, Zoey? What do you think is true?”
And for some reason that's the sentence that allows everything to bubble over. That's what gets her to break in front of another person. This conversation had eroded her walls down and down until the dam was finally enough to allow them to break. To rip apart the infrastructure that spent years building. To allow the river to finally run its course.
“BECAUSE THEY’RE RIGHT”
“Because I'm too much and not enough, my lyrics are trash, I'm too annoying, and I'm too American and not enough Korean. Because everything they’ve said points out a flaw that's been there all along, because at no point have they ever LIED.”
Zoey takes a breath.
“Because no matter how hard I try, I never hit the standard. I've done too much or not enough but never the right amount. I’ve never done anything correctly or in the way people need me to, and now they’ve all seen what I am. Maybe it wasn’t Gwi-Ma; maybe they've finally come to their senses.”
The confession hangs in the air, lingering around the couple. Mira breaks the hug. She releases Zoey from her hold and takes a step back. She stares at Zoey with a look akin to pity. It takes a minute for the silence to break.
“Zoey, you realise you're lying to yourself.” Mira says
“Because you are. Your lyrics have won awards. You're adored, and not just by me; your race is enough no matter what anybody else thinks. Your race has no contributing factor to your worth.”
Zoey shrugs before saying, “I guess.”
“No, Zoey, I need you to understand," Mira says.
“Your lyrics are amazing; you truly have a gift for it. You are Korean enough; not that you being half Korean matters in any way. It is the least important and interesting part of you.”
Mira takes a shaky breath. She reaches her hand towards Zoey's cheek and gently cups it. She drags her finger up and down the side of Zoey's face, marvelling in her beauty. She was like the sun. Bright and gorgeous, but she had a soft and all-consuming quality the sun simply didn't have. Mira wouldn’t need the sun to sustain her life as long as she had Zoey.
“Zoey, you aren’t annoying. You’re so kind and nice, sometimes to your detriment. You’re high energy in a good way. You lighten up a room; that's just how you are. People are blind not to see that. The people who don’t are dumb as shit. You’re amazing, Zoey.”
Mira takes another deep breath.
“And I love you so much; screw all the people who are under the weird manipulation of Gwi-Ma.”
Now, they had said I love you before. It wasn’t odd for the two, but it wasn’t always frequent. It had never been this raw before. Of course they had always spoken with truth when they said the words before, but this felt different. This felt as if it was truly from the soul and was littered with all the emotion that brings. They love each other; come all the hardships of the world as they may, it would do nothing to break the two hearts that beat for each other. It was them against the world, and that thought was a comfort.
“I love you too,” Zoey said, moving toward Mira for an embrace.
They hugged for a while, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies. The comfort was welcome after the turmoil of the day.
“Come on, let's go to bed,” Mira whispered into Zoey's ear.
“But my room is –”
Zoey starts before being cut off by Mira.
“We can deal with it tomorrow. It's time for bed,” Mira says in a definitive tone.
Suddenly Mira chucks herself and Zoey onto her bed. Zoey lets out a laugh at the action but realises she is truly exhausted. Mira pulls the cover over the two despite them both still being in their day clothes. The two were so tired it was hard to care about trivial things like that.
As Zoey started to drift to sleep in her girlfriend's arms, she felt at peace for the first time all day. Everything wasn't fixed completely, but that was okay. There was still work to be done, but it could wait until tomorrow. She was allowed the night with her girlfriend in a warm, cosy bed, and tomorrow, when things needed to be done, they could do them together. Everything would be okay; they would make sure of it. Everyone else be damned.