Chapter Text
-2019-
“A wedding? Now?” Dior questioned.
It was 9am just after her shift at the local coffee shop when Yeojoo burst into the place decked out in an expensive looking, grey, sequined dress - definitely not the attire you’d usually see at a coffee shop. Despite the heads turned her way, Yeojoo continued to storm up to her best friend demanding she drive her to her brother’s friend’s wedding. Heck, she didn’t even know the guy, but still somehow ended up invited because of the bride’s lack of guests.
“Yes, now! You know I never ask anything of you, just this once. You can even come along, I have a spare dress at home.” Yeojoo pleaded. To Dior, it was never a question in the first place, she knew whatever Yeojoo wanted she’d give her in a heartbeat. Especially after all the favours she’s done for her in the past four years they’d been friends. That’s how the two of them end up running to their shared apartment a few blocks down as Yeojoo explains how they somehow forgot to send her a car and now she’s running late for the first time in four years. Dior couldn’t help but shake her head and giggle at the overreaction her friend was having.
“Who even is this chick he’s getting married to?” Dior mumbled as she struggled to get into Yeojoo’s dress. Even though Dior was taller than her, she thought maybe her skinny frame would compensate for it. “And how old were you when you bought this goddamn dre-” she paused as she finally got the dress to fit in a somewhat decent manner.
“Look, it fits fine on you… and I don’t remember her name actually.” Yeojoo replied from across the room where she was feverishly tapping away on her phone. She paused to look at Dior again. “Her face was familiar though, I’m not sure I could forget a face as beautiful as hers if I wanted.”.
Dior chuckled before responding, “Maybe you fucked her in college.”, earning her a glare and a pen being chucked at her. “Hey! I’m just saying.” Dior continued with a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, real funny. Are you done now?”
Dior studied herself in the mirror one last time. She was wearing a short cream dress with a sweetheart neckline. The dress ended a little high thanks to Yeojoo’s short height, but it was nothing Dior couldn’t make work. If she was being honest, she thought she still looked okay, despite her ginger hair hastily pinned back and the minimal make-up she had on from this morning. Yes, she had looked better, but then again she was going to a wedding where she didn’t even know the bride and groom. With one last nod she grabbed a coat and followed Yeojoo out the door.
-
When Yeojoo said wedding, Dior wasn’t prepared for a grand mansion-esque hall. The walls were lined with silky white curtains which complimented the several stunning crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. There must have been over fifty tables, all adorned with a bouquet of peonies. Dior thinks they’re stereotypical but they’re pretty nonetheless.
“Wow, you never mentioned your brother’s friend was this rich.” Dior stated, taking in the sight.
“He’s not. It’s the bride. Some heir to a big company or something.” Yeojoo explained as she dragged Dior through the light crowd of guests chatting. “Hoseok said he’d be at table 14 right near the front.” She continued, looking around.
“There it is!” Dior exclaimed a little too loudly and lugged Yeojoo with her to the table. “Where is the bride anyway, is she as hot as you made her out to be?” She wriggled her eyebrows and giggled.
“Shut up, her fiance's right there.” Yeojoo nodded her head towards a tall built man not too far away from them to which Dior let out a low whistle.
“Damn, you never said Hoseok’s friend was that good looking either.” Dior teased, earning her a hit on the arm.
“His name is Hyunwoo and I know I was the one who dragged you here but please refrain yourself from hitting on both the bride and groom.” Yeojoo sat down in her seat, motioning Dior to do the same.
“Why? Are you worried they’re going to both fall for my endless charms.” Dior chirps, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. Noticing Yeojoo’s incredulous stare she reached over for her hand. “Hey, what’s wrong?”. Yeojoo flipped her hand over and locked her fingers with Dior’s.
“Nothing, I’m just nervous. It’s dumb, I know. I’m not even remotely involved with the wedding.” Dior swiped her thumb over her knuckles quickly, flashing her a smile.
“Hey, it’s going to go okay. I know you just want your brother to be happy on Hyunwoo’s big day.” She inched closer and grabbed two glasses of champagne from one of the waiters passing by, offering one to Yeojoo. “You should have fun too.”.
Yeojoo smiled and took a small sip, “Yeah, I should stop making a big deal out of all of this.” Flashing one last smile at her friend, Dior excused herself from the table to go search for a bathroom.
A place as big as this ought to have some sort of signs, Dior thought, annoyed when she found herself in yet another random corridor after asking not one, not two, but three different waiters for directions. Maybe this was pointless, she sighed, ready to make her way back to the main hall, hoping she wouldn’t wet herself on the way back when she finally saw a sign with the two glorious letters: ‘WC’. She hastily made a beeline, thanking the toilet gods that she wouldn’t have to embarrass herself in front of a hundred odd strangers.
Dior looked at herself in the mirror after washing her hands. After wearing it for an hour, the dress was starting to get uncomfortably tight. Tilting her head to the side she pouted. Maybe the dress didn’t look as good as she thought it did back in their apartment. It was obvious that it was a size or two too small for her and the neckline was threatening to fall off her body. It wasn’t unusual for Dior to feel insecure about her outfit, though she usually hid it well. She shook her head.
“No, I look fine.” She muttered, smoothing down her dress, her fingers trailing gently over the beads on the skirt. She raised her gaze when she heard another voice from the door.
“Yes, yes, I know, now please go get her. I’ll be fine on my own.” Dior froze. That voice was all too familiar- the same lazy, soothing voice, the same comforting voice that filled her to the brim with warmth. The voice she hated and loved incessantly at the same time. It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t be.
Slowly and ever so carefully, Dior turned her lowered head towards the source of the sound, finding a robe covering a lanky body she knew all too well, and despite her brain protesting, she finally looked up.
Yeojoo was right, that is a face you could never forget.
“Minji?!”
Maybe it was seeing her first love for the first time in 4 years, all made up, about to get married or maybe it was the fact that she could feel her dress slipping from her frame, but Dior screamed.