Archive of Our Own

Jeonghwa catches her in the waiting room, pulling Jimin aside so the other girls can’t hear.

“A guy gave me his number,” she breathes out in a rush. Her eyes are even wider than normal, bugged out the way they only get when she’s really overwhelmed.

“What are you going to do about it?” Jimin can’t help frowning a little bit, imagining Jeonghwa messaging a boy. It’s not that Jeonghwa’s too young - she’s not really a baby anymore, for all that they give her shit about it. But it still makes Jimin uncomfortable, thinking about someone looking at Jeonghwa and wanting her. Someone else looking at Jeonghwa and getting to have her.

“I don't know,” Jeonghwa says slowly, jarring Jimin out of her thoughts. “I thought you would know.”

Typical Jeonghwa. Jimin doesn't mean to be condescending but she can’t help laughing a little, charmed by her cluelessness.

“Well, I can’t tell you how you feel, babe.”

“No, I know, I just,” Jeonghwa scowls. She’s always hated being laughed at. “I just thought that, like. You have a lot of experience? So you would know what I should do?”

Jeonghwa phrases the last two sentences like questions, but Jimin can hear the value judgment underneath. Perfect, sweet good girl Jeonghwa doesn't know how to talk to a boy, but of course Jimin does, because Jimin isn’t any of those things. Jimin stiffens.

Someone laughs behind her, but when she turns around to check it’s just Soojin, smacking Namjoo’s bicep as she cackles about god knows what. Nobody is paying any attention to Jimin at all, so she turns back to Jeonghwa.

“What was that supposed to mean?” She forces her tone to be even and light, trying to keep the growing anger out of her voice.

Jeonghwa’s eyes widen even further, somehow, which really shouldn't even be anatomically possible.

“Nothing bad! Just, like, you go out a lot? And like. Talk to people?”

“And when you say people, you mean men, right?” Jimin can feel her irritation building, which is stupid, because she knows Jeonghwa doesn't mean anything by it.

“Yes! Or wait, no?”

“For fuck’s sake, Jeonghwa. Just say you think I’m a slut and get it over with.”

Jimin doesn’t even know where that outburst came from. There’s something deep inside her that she doesn’t like to look at, usually, and somehow Jeonghwa has managed to draw it out.

Jeonghwa freezes, looking stricken.

“Unnie, no - ”

But Jimin can’t let her finish, too caught up in anger that bubbled up out of nowhere. Anger that doesn’t even make any sense.

“You want my advice about boys, Jeonghwa? Stay the fuck away from them. That’s it.”

Jimin pushes past Jeonghwa and stomps out of the room before she can say anything else. She’s shaking, wired from the sudden change in her mood, face flushed and body thrumming with tension. She wants to drink something and she wants to punch someone, but neither one is an option. She settles for walking up and down the hallway until Soojin sticks her head out the door and tells her she needs to come back in, because it’s almost time to go on stage.

Jimin’s spectacular overreaction scares Jeonghwa off the topic for a few days, but Jeonghwa has always been tenacious, so a few days later she takes advantage of a break during practice to sidle up to Jimin and bring it up again.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend, unnie? Like, a real one,” Jeonghwa doesn’t meet her eyes as she asks, eyes trained on her old scuffed sneakers. Jimin doesn’t know why she keeps wearing them. Jeonghwa’s never cared enough about how she looks; it’s infuriating.

Jimin narrows her eyes.

“What makes a boyfriend real?”

“Like,” Jeonghwa gestures vaguely in a way that conveys absolutely nothing. “Couple rings, and stuff. A real boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Jimin says. “No.”

She’s not as embarrassed about it anymore, not like she used to be. It’s not as though Jimin’s inexperienced, and anyway… it doesn’t matter. Boys don’t matter. She doesn’t know if this is what Namjoo meant when she told Jimin to be honest about herself, but she’s trying. She can be honest to herself, anyway. Not usually to anybody else.

“Oh,” Jeonghwa echoes, finally looking up. She’s making that face that means she’s thinking really hard about something, but as usual it’s anybody’s guess whether what she’s thinking about is something serious, or something meaningless like what she’s having for lunch.

“Did you text your boy?” Jimin asks, trying to guess what has Jeonghwa looking so conflicted.

“What boy?”

Jeonghwa looks even more confused, so apparently Jimin’s guess was wrong.

“The one who gave you his number? I thought that’s what we were talking about,” Jimin says slowly. She can’t figure Jeonghwa out sometimes. It’s like she operates on her own plane of existence. Like Taehee, but even further away.

Jeonghwa shakes her head.

“No,” she says. “I don’t think I like him. I was just…”

She trails off again, still staring at Jimin.

“You were just?” Jimin prompts her. She’s losing patience with this conversation, and she’d really like to steer it somewhere that doesn’t lead to another meltdown. She knows Jeonghwa doesn’t mean any harm. She knows that.

“I was just curious. About you,” Jeonghwa says, finally.

Jimin squints at her. Should she be offended? What does that mean?

“Why?”

“You seem like you’d be the type to want a boyfriend, but you’ve never…” Jeonghwa doesn’t finish her sentence, just stares at Jimin expectantly. Jimin frowns, still not sure whether she’s okay with Jeonghwa’s implications.

“I don’t want a boyfriend. I never have,” she answers honestly.

“Never?”

Jimin sighs, and makes a split-second decision.

“No, never. And I never will. Do you understand?”

It’s probably a mistake. It’s almost definitely a mistake, but Jeonghwa’s slow sometimes and maybe she’ll let it go. Maybe she won’t even understand what Jimin’s implying. Maybe -

“Unnie, do you mean that…” Jeonghwa trails off, clearly uncomfortable.

Maybe not.

Jimin laughs, because if she doesn’t laugh she’ll probably do something horrific like cry.

“Yeah, Jeonghwa. I mean that,” Jimin says, trying to project confidence.

“Oh,” Jeonghwa says faintly. She looks dumbstruck, face expressionless and mouth hanging open.

“Don’t worry, it’s not contagious.”

Sometimes Jimin lets herself daydream about a life where it wouldn't be a big deal; where no one would care that Jimin likes long hair and smooth legs and blushing cheeks. That Jimin looks at other girls’ makeup and thinks I want to look like that and I want that, both at the same time.

But honestly, most of the time Jimin just daydreams about being attracted to men. Everything would be easier, that way. If she could just do that one thing right.

“But. You’re always flirting with guys?” Jeonghwa’s got that look on her face like her internal servers are overheating.

Jimin can feel her entire face getting red, now, and she hates it. Hates that she’s letting this affect her so much. Hates that as much as she tries not to, she can’t help caring what Jeonghwa thinks of her.

“Yeah.” Jimin doesn’t really know what else to say. Yeah, unnie’s pretty fucked up, right?

“Why?”

Jimin bristles.

“Why would you do that to yourself?” Jeonghwa continues, looking genuinely upset, and Jimin’s angry retort dies on her tongue before she can spit it out.

“What?” She barely manages to croak the word out, feeling pinned by the look on Jeonghwa’s face.

“If you don’t want that, then why…” Jeonghwa doesn't seem to know how to finish her sentence, but Jimin can fill in the blanks.

She doesn't really know how to answer, but Jeonghwa is staring at her so insistently, like it really matters. Like she really cares.

“Sometimes it’s just easier to do what people expect you to do,” Jimin says, finally. She can barely look at Jeonghwa as she says it. Can barely make herself check to see the expression on Jeonghwa’s face. Jimin doesn't know what would be worse: pity, or judgment.

“Unnie…” Jeonghwa looks so lost. Jimin wants to soothe her and scold her in equal measure. What gives her the right? Why does she get to peel back Jimin’s layers like it’s nothing, prying into the parts that Jimin needs to keep to herself? Jeonghwa’s always gotten away with everything, spoiled and golden, and she’ll get away with this too. Jimin will let her get away with this, because she can’t do anything else.

“It's fine, Jeonghwa. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’m fine.”

Jeonghwa’s expression says she’s definitely still worrying about it. Jimin sighs, tossing her sweaty hair back.

“I have to pee,” she says, mainly for an excuse to leave the room. “You go find Hyoseong-unnie while I’m gone and then we’ll all practice together, yeah?”

Jeonghwa nods, brow still furrowed.

She goes out that night, against her better judgment. Styles her hair and does her makeup and puts in her lenses, trying desperately not to think about that look on Jeonghwa’s face.

Haemi said she knows a place that’s private and discreet, and Jimin isn't in the mood to make any decisions so that’s where they're going. Now that the group is finally finding some success and actually winning on music shows, performing for real crowds and even going abroad, Jimin has more freedom to have some fun when she gets the time, but also more pressure not to get caught.

Her dress is so tight that she can’t breathe normally once it’s zipped up and it’s uncomfortable, sure, but it also makes her feel proud, in a fucked up way. Proud that she can fit into it. Proud that she can make it look good.

Jimin slips her phone and lipstick into a tiny purse that’s all form, no function. Jeonghwa had made fun of her for buying it, but Jimin isn't thinking about Jeonghwa right now. Jimin’s thinking about the drinks she’s going to get for free tonight, about dancing until her feet bleed.

On her way to the door she passes Soojin in the living room, curled up in a giant pink sweatshirt. There’s a big fuzzy bow holding up her ponytail.

“Jimin-ah?” Soojin’s voice is soft when she looks up from her phone. “Where are you going?”

“Out,” Jimin says breathlessly, leaning against the wall to pull on her heels. “I won’t be too late, unnie, don't worry.”

Soojin’s brow creases.

“Be careful,” she says. She sounds tired, the way she always does at the end of a long day, like all the jokes and bluster have been drained right out of her.

“Yah, unnie, who do you think I am? I’m always careful,” Jimin laughs, stepping carefully around the scattered shoes in the entrance.

The door locks behind her when she closes it, and Jimin takes a deep breath.

It’s going to be a good night. She needs it to be a good night.

It is not a good night.

Jimin took too many shots too fast and now she feels blurry, out of control. And she doesn't know where Haemi found these guys, but Jimin has been pushing stray hands away for an hour now, and it’s getting old.

Nobody’s even dancing, just sitting around a table in a private room at the back of the club. It’s the kind of room where you can get away with anything. Jimin looks around her, at the faces of all these people she doesn’t know, and shivers.

She blinks, then blinks again.

The guy next to her pushes another drink into her hand, whispers hey baby come on and don’t be like that and god you’re so gorgeous until Jimin’s head is swimming with it.

All the unfamiliar faces around her are yelling and laughing, and Jimin can’t tell what any of them are laughing about. She doesn’t know where Haemi went. She doesn’t know if she wants to know where Haemi went.

There’s a hand on her thigh. On another night Jimin might lean into it, look up through her lashes and smile, smouldering and coy.

But tonight there’s a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she can’t stop thinking about Jeonghwa’s face. Jeonghwa’s wide, worried eyes, and Jeonghwa’s pretty mouth gaping open in confusion, and -

“Bottoms up!” Jimin shrieks. Everyone around her laughs and it’s easier, so much easier, to just laugh along with them. To stop pushing the hands away. To let it all happen.

Everything gets a little hazy, after that. There are hands on her thighs, around her waist, at the back of her neck. Jimin laughs and laughs and laughs.

It doesn’t hit her again until she’s sobering up, or maybe getting too drunk, that she doesn’t want to do this anymore. The hands aren’t making her feel pretty or wanted, just grimy and sick. She swats feebly at the arm around her shoulders, trying to dislodge her body, ignoring the hey baby don’t be like that we’re cool right? we’re good and pushing herself to her feet, legs wobbly.

“I have to pee,” Jimin announces to the room at large, and then she stumbles for the door.

The bathroom is done up to project a ludicrous, fake sense of luxury, all the surfaces black and polished. There’s a basket of condoms by the sink that Jimin is trying very hard not to think about.

Jimin pees, and then she washes her hands, and then she spends a long time staring at herself in the mirror. Her mascara is starting to smudge, black collecting under her eyes and making her look haggard. Her hair still looks good, at least.

She’s going to go, she decides. She’s not having fun anymore, and she lost Haemi, and the glitter eyeshadow she was saving for a special occasion didn’t even last half the night.

Jimin sighs and dries off her hands and uses the paper towel to open the bathroom door, grabbing her tiny purse on her way out.

It takes her a moment to orient herself, in the hallway. They’d come in through a back entrance, and Jimin doesn’t actually know how to get out.

A woman slips out of one of the other rooms, looking composed and professional in a pencil skirt and a neat bun. She’s carrying a tray full of empty bottles.

She stops when she sees Jimin. Jimin tries not to think about how debauched she looks in comparison, and smiles winningly at her instead.

“Can you help me get out of here?”

The club employee leads her even further back into the building, to an empty room. She smiles at Jimin, friendly even though Jimin is pretty sure she’s being a major inconvenience.

“Do you need to call someone? A taxi?”

“I have my - hang on - ”

Jimin fumbles her phone out from her purse, messages one of the managers to send her a car.

She stares at her contact list, after. She should call Soojin or Namjoo, probably, and tell them she’s okay.

She presses down on Jeonghwa’s name instead.

The phone rings twice, three times, before Jeonghwa answers, sounding confused.

“Jimin-unnie?” Her voice is groggy.

“You were right, Jeonghwa,” Jimin laughs. It sounds manic, not like her at all. “I am kind of a slut.”

“Unnie? Where are you?” There’s the sound of something rustling, like Jeonghwa’s getting out of bed.

“It sucks here,” Jimin says. “Haemi said it would be fun.”

“Where is ‘here’? Are you okay? Unnie, you sound really bad,” Jeonghwa’s voice is so urgent. Jimin doesn’t understand why. She laughs again.

“I’m always okay, Jeonghwa,” Jimin says, trying to sound like a calm, responsible unnie even as the room tilts around her. “Go back to sleep, alright?”

She hangs up the phone, dropping it into her purse and settling in to wait for the car.

She’s okay.

Jimin wakes up alone in her own bed, head aching and mouth dry, when someone knocks on her bedroom door. She looks around, confused, but Hyoseong is long gone, bed made neatly and pillows placed precisely on top.

“Who is it,” she croaks.

Jimin is expecting Namjoo, or maybe Soojin, so it’s a shock when it swings open to reveal Yoonji, hunched over and uncomfortable-looking.

“What happened to me,” Jimin moans. She reaches for the glass of water by her bed and drinks it all in one go. It doesn’t do much to help her head and she resigns herself to suffering, too tired and nauseous to get up for more.

Yoonji closes the door behind her and shuffles over to the bed, parking herself next to Jimin’s left foot. She just sits there for a moment, staring at the wall behind Jimin’s head, before she finally speaks.

“You scared Jeonghwa last night,” Yoonji says. Jimin winces, thinking of her drunken phone call.

“Did she tell everyone what I said?”

“No, just me.” It’d be more reassuring if Yoonji didn’t look so completely unimpressed. Jimin’s pretty unimpressed with herself, at the moment. She only dimly remembers what she even said to Jeonghwa, but she knows it wasn’t good.

“Ah, unnie,” Jimin dredges up what little charm she has left and flutters her crusty, gummed up eyelashes at Yoonji, mostly just to see her scoff in response. “What would I do without you?”

Yoonji just stares at her for a moment. Jimin’s smile fades, and she looks away.

“Jimin-ah,” Yoonji says. “Do you need me to go with you to the clinic?”

It’s blunt, because it’s Yoonji. She’s not awkwardly supportive like Namjoo or blustery like Soojin or over the top with her affection like Hyoseong, and Jimin has always appreciated that about her. It’s comforting, to focus on the practical.

Jimin doesn’t need to go to the clinic, and she really doesn’t want to acknowledge why Yoonji thinks she might need to.

She settles for shaking her head, too exhausted to come up with something to say. It’s Yoonji. She’ll understand.

Yoonji nods in acknowledgment, then she reaches out and squeezes Jimin’s foot through the blanket.

Jimin feels her eyes fill with tears, to her absolute horror. She squeezes them shut and slumps over onto the pillow, feigning exhaustion so Yoonji won’t see. Yoonji’s hand is still warm on her ankle. Jimin wants to sleep through this entire experience, and wake up in a reality where no one remembers what she did.

It’s not possible, obviously. But it’s nice to think about, here in her room. Just Yoonji, Jimin, and Jimin’s emotional baggage, taking up every inch of available space.

“I’m okay, unnie,” Jimin croaks out, finally. “I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

“It’s fine,” Yoonji says, voice gruff. “But maybe save that apology for Jeonghwa. She’s been freaking out since last night.”

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Jimin whispers. “Can you just, like. Make her stop? Just distract her with food, or tell her it was all a bad dream or something, I don’t know.”

“You do know Jeonghwa is an adult, right? She’s not a toddler. She’s learned object permanence.”

“Debatable,” Jimin mutters.

Yoonji snorts. She squeezes Jimin’s foot one more time, shaking it a little bit.

“Good talk,” she says after a moment, and moves to stand up. She pauses by the door. “Jimin-ah…”

Jimin raises her eyebrows, waiting.

“Take care of yourself, okay? You’re precious to us.”

Yoonji’s entire face turns red at the admission, like she’s just said something horrifically embarrassing, and she darts out through the door as soon as it’s out of her mouth. Jimin laughs at her for being so ridiculous, because it’s easier than thinking about what she said.

Hyoseong comes in a little later to grab clothes from her side of the closet, alternating between scolding Jimin and fussing over her, like she can’t decide if she’s angry or concerned. Both, probably.

Normally when they have days off Jimin’s days are still full, the need for constant improvement driving her towards the practice rooms or the studios even when no one is requiring her to be there.

But today Jimin doesn’t move. Her hair is limp and greasy and she’s starting to smell, but she just rolls over and refreshes twitter on her phone. She’s wearing sweatpants and a giant stretched-out T-shirt, and she doesn’t remember changing last night so there’s a good chance somebody had to help her. Jimin doesn’t let herself think about it.

Soojin her sends a text asking if everything is okay, eventually. Jimin responds with a thumbs up emoji, a yes unnie!!!! i love you!!!!, and a blushing bunny sticker. Soojin responds with three thumbs-up, a kiss, and, inexplicably, a pigeon.

The time stretches out, seconds and minutes creeping past as Jimin stays utterly still. She gives up on her phone and stares at the ceiling instead. There’s still a dull throb at the base of her skull telling her she should probably get up and eat something, maybe get some fresh air if she’s feeling ambitious. Jimin doesn’t move.

At 3pm, she texts Taehee.

sos
send sustenance

Taehee comes bounding into the room approximately three minutes later, tossing something onto the bed before flopping her long limbs directly on top of Jimin.

“Oof,” Jimin grunts. “What have you been eating?”

“Your love,” Taehee coos, directly into Jimin’s ear like the little shit she is.

“Gross,” Jimin laughs, swatting at her halfheartedly.

“Sooooo,” Taehee drawls. “You wanna talk about what’s going on with you and Jeonghwa, or are we still acting like everything’s fine?”

“What’s going on with me and Jeonghwa?” Jimin says immediately. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay! Thanks for clearing that up!” Taehee smiles brightly. Jimin doesn’t trust it for a minute. “So is it like the time she won that aegyo contest on Weekly Idol, or is it something real?”

“That meat was mine,” Jimin hisses. “Jeonghwa didn’t even try.”

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Taehee sighs.

Jimin pinches Taehee’s butt in retaliation and Taehee lets out an indignant squawk, finally rolling over and freeing Jimin from her cuddle prison.

She lies there in silence for a moment, spread eagled across Jimin’s entire bed. Relegated to the far edge, Jimin searches for the chocopie Taehee brought with her and tears it open, even though she knows it’ll mean chocolate crumbs in her sheets and really, she shouldn’t be eating chocopies at all. She doesn’t even know where Taehee got it in the first place. They don’t keep them around the apartment, usually.

“You’re really okay though, right, Chim?” Taehee says. Jimin coughs a little mid-chew, forces chocolate down her suddenly dry throat.

“Yeah, Taetae,” she croaks out. “I’m good.”

Overall, she thinks, it’s not really that big of a lie. Everybody has things they don’t want to talk about when they’re hungover. Yoonji’s got her messed up relationship with her parents, Namjoo’s got her ongoing identity crisis, and Jimin’s a lesbian.

It’s no big deal.

The next morning, Jimin is greasy enough that Hyoseong wrinkles her nose when she wakes her up, like touching Jimin’s shoulder is going to make her unwashed by proxy.

“Up, up, up,” Hyoseong sing-songs.

Jimin rolls her eyes, but she pulls back the blankets and gets out of bed. Showers, gets dressed. Goes to the studio, because she’s scheduled to record today and while she might feel like reheated garbage, she’s still a professional.

Jeonghwa is recording today, too, but Jimin doesn’t let herself think about that. She’d sent a message the night before, just a halfhearted sorry for scaring you with a bunch of cute apologetic animals. Jeonghwa didn’t respond, but Jeonghwa’s a little shit and never responds to anything, so Jimin doesn’t really know what she’s expecting.

She doesn’t know what she was expecting, but Jeonghwa jumping to her feet and offering her a honey lozenge as soon as she sees Jimin is…. not it.

“Unnie, sit down,” Jeonghwa urges her, like Jimin’s a feeble old auntie and not a healthy twenty-something who made a few bad choices. Jimin squints at her.

“What is this,” she says, suspicious.

“What’s what,” Jeonghwa replies, blinking.

“Why are you being so nice,” Jimin says. “I don’t trust it.”

Jeonghwa rolls her big eyes and scowls, shoving at Jimin’s shoulder. She looks pretty today, fresh and clean in a plaid shirt and jeans. Her long dark hair falls straight down her back, sleek and shiny. Nothing like Jimin’s bleach-fried, staticky bob.

“You’re so annoying,” Jimin says, but she takes the honey lozenge anyway. She can never stay mad at Jeonghwa for long.

For a while, Jimin thinks that’s the end of it: the end of her weirdness with Jeonghwa, and the end of Jimin doing shit she regrets that leads to awkward conversations with Yoonji the next morning.

Of course, as soon as Jimin has relaxed, Jeonghwa sneaks into her bedroom three months later with slumped posture and a glum expression. It’s late, and Jimin is lying in bed with a sheet mask on, fucking around on Twitter on her phone.

“You okay, bun?”

Jeonghwa nods but doesn’t say anything else, plunking herself down into Jimin’s desk chair and spinning around a little bit. She fidgets with one of the pens on Jimin’s desk.

Jimin eyes her for a moment, then goes back to her phone when Jeonghwa doesn’t say anything more, rearranging her mask with her free hand.

“Unnie?” Jeonghwa asks, finally, just when Jimin is starting to drift off. Jimin looks over at her, but she can’t make out her expression in the dim lighting.

“Hmm?” Jimin tries to keep her mouth still.

“A girl gave me her number,” Jeonghwa says, quiet.

Jimin freezes, slowly putting her phone down on the bed.

“Hang on,” she says. “I can’t have this conversation looking like this.”

She peels off the mask and stands up, walking over to the garbage to throw it out and then looking over at Jeonghwa.

Jeonghwa’s face is very still, jaw set like she’s concentrating hard.

“Did you message her?” Jimin says as she moves to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to sound… she doesn’t know what. Encouraging? Kind?

Trying to sound like she’s not seething with a jealousy she doesn’t understand.

“Yeah,” Jeonghwa says. “She’s nice.”

“I’m happy for you,” Jimin manages to force out through numb lips, pasting a condescending smile on her face. “Our little Jeonghwa, all grown up!”

Jeonghwa rolls her eyes, sticks out her tongue. Jimin smiles even wider in response, so wide that her vision starts to blur.

It’s stupid. Jimin is being stupid. It isn’t a competition, and she knows that.

She knows that, but she still can’t understand how Jeonghwa manages to beat her at everything, even when she doesn’t even try.

“She’s nice, but she’s not who I want,” Jeonghwa says, quieter. Jimin looks over at her, sharp, distracted from her bitter feelings.

“There’s someone you want?”

Since when? Jeonghwa’s always been so awkward with anyone outside the group. And even when she does make friends she’s weirdly passive about it, only meeting up when they invite her.

Jeonghwa nods.

“Someone really good,” she says, voice shy. Jeonghwa’s never shy with Jimin, and it’s cute on her. Jimin wants to squish her cheeks.

“It’d better be someone good,” Jimin says. “Our golden maknae deserves the very best. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Jeonghwa says, cheeks turning a splotchy red.

“Aww,” Jimin giggles. “Am I embarrassing you?”

“No,” Jeonghwa scowls.

They sit in silence for a moment, Jimin halfheartedly pressing the leftover essence from the sheet mask into her skin while she considers. Jeonghwa is staring at her own feet.

“Jeonghwa,” Jimin says, quietly. “Is the someone another girl?”

Jeonghwa nods, but doesn’t say anything further. Just looks up at Jimin with those fathomless eyes, wide and dark and unknowable.

Jimin holds out her fist silently, waits for Jeonghwa to bump it. She tries to stay serious, but she can’t help it bursting into giggles at the solemn expression on Jeonghwa’s face.

Jeonghwa pouts and then follows suit, the two of them cackling, giddy with it, until they’re silenced by a sharp thump against the wall and a muffled shut UP from Yoonji and Soojin’s room next door.

Time passes. Jimin gets her own song, and then another one. She sings about becoming herself, about freeing herself. About loving herself, and then about loving someone else.

They go on tour, and then they go on tour again, and then again. Jimin performs in places she never could have dreamed of, back in Busan.

Through it all she’s watching Jeonghwa, searching for signs that Jeonghwa’s found someone. Searching for signs that Jeonghwa’s beat her to this, too. But despite what she said to Jimin about wanting someone, as Jeonghwa grows up, tall and beautiful and more confident every day, she never seems to seek anyone out.

“What’s your ideal type?”

“Someone who cares a lot,” Jeonghwa says to the Dispatch interviewer, smiling shyly like she just admitted something huge.

“Someone who works hard,” Jeonghwa says to the foreign interviewer during their second trip to the BBMAs.

“Someone cute, who will lift my mood up when I’m tired,” Jeonghwa says to Namjoo, in her pajamas during a late night Vlive.

“It doesn’t matter whether they’re tall or not,” Jeonghwa says, and Jimin narrows her eyes.

“Jeonghwa,” Jimin whispers into the quiet hotel room. It’s late. Jeonghwa is curled up next to her, long limbs tucked in so she looks tiny. Like she was when they first met.

“What,” Jeonghwa grumbles, burrowing her face further into the pillow.

“Did you ever confess? To your someone?”

“What,” Jeonghwa says again, turning her face back up towards Jimin. There are pillow marks on her cheeks. Jimin reaches out and brushes one with her finger.

“You said you had someone you liked, remember? Did you ever tell her?”

Jeonghwa frowns, looking confused.

“Unnie, that was years ago.”

They’re so close that Jimin can feel Jeonghwa’s breath when she speaks. Can smell the toothpaste Jeonghwa used - wintergreen, because she’s a monster - and the cream Hyoseong finally convinced her to start putting on her face.

“I know,” Jimin says. Of course she knows; she’s been thinking about it the whole time. She’s been thinking about it for years, now, and she still hasn’t figured it out. “I just… wondered, I guess.”

She laughs a little, then, embarrassed at Jeonghwa’s reaction.

“Never mind,” Jimin says.

“No, unnie - ” Jeonghwa reaches up and grabs Jimin’s hand, pausing for a moment. That telltale look on her face that means she’s thinking hard.

“I tried to tell her, but I couldn’t do it,” Jeonghwa admits. “But it’s okay. I think… this way is better.”

Jeonghwa’s frowning a little as she says it, like maybe she doesn’t really believe it. Maybe she’s trying to convince herself, not just Jimin.

Jimin frowns with her, smoothing out the wrinkle between Jeonghwa’s eyebrows with her thumb.

“Aww, bun,” she says, softly. “What are we gonna do with you, huh?”

Jeonghwa laughs quietly, a small tired exhale.

“Did you ever have a someone?” she asks shyly, voice tiny in the quiet room.

Jimin takes a moment to think about it. Did she, ever? Does she, now?

Jimin has thought about it a lot, what it would feel like to have someone special. She’s always loved feeling loved, loved knowing that people are attracted to her. She loves the idea of it, sure, but there’s never been someone she wanted enough to risk it.

“I don’t think so,” she says, finally.

“Oh,” Jeonghwa whispers. Jimin doesn’t think she’s imagining that she sounds disappointed.

“It’s really okay, Jeonghwa,” Jimin reassures her. “I’m happy with you guys, just doing this. It’s enough, you know? It’s worth it to me.”

“No, it’s just…” Jeonghwa takes a deep breath. “It was you, unnie. The someone. My someone.”

Jimin stops breathing.

“What,” she whispers. “Jeonghwa. What?”

“It was always you,” Jeonghwa says, blunt and brutally honest.

“I don’t… Jeonghwa. I sat on your lap,” Jimin stutters. Was Jeonghwa hurting the whole time? Did it make it worse, when Jimin draped herself over Jeonghwa’s shoulders? When she smacked obnoxious kisses all over her face? She touches Jeonghwa all the time. “Like, a lot. Why would you let me do that?”

Jeonghwa bristles.

“I wasn’t weird about it,” she says, defensive.

“I know you weren’t, babe,” Jimin says, trying to keep her voice calm. “But if you liked me, didn’t it hurt? To have me crawling all over you like that?”

Jeonghwa shakes her head, dark hair rustling against the pillow case.

“It was nice,” she insists. “It’s nice just being close to you.”

Jimin suddenly, inexplicably wants to cry.

“Jeonghwa…”

“I’m sorry,” Jeongwha whispers.

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jeonghwa just shakes her head. Jimin scoots even closer on the bed, so they’re sharing a single pillow.

“Thank you for telling me,” Jimin says, squeezing Jeonghwa’s hand.

She doesn’t know what else to say.

Jimin can’t shake the discomfort knowing that her understanding of who Jeonghwa is as a person has been fundamentally wrong, that she’s been missing a key piece of information this whole time. She thought she knew Jeonghwa so well, that they were so close. How had she missed something so big?

“Did Jeonghwa ever mention having a crush on someone?”

She waits until she gets Hyoseong alone to ask, when it’s just the two of them in the practice room. Jeonghwa and Taehee went to go record a little while ago, and now that they’re alone they’re mostly just messing around. Hyoseong pauses mid-step, not-quite-stumbling over her own foot. She turns to look at Jimin.

“Did she tell you?”

Jimin narrows her eyes.

“Tell me what,” she says slowly.

“Oh, nothing!” Hyoseong laughs awkwardly, waving her hands.

“Don’t lie to me, Hobi-unnie,” Jimin reaches over to poke her in the ribs. Hyoseong squeals and flinches away, swatting at Jimin’s hands. Her laughter fades away into something more serious and Jimin flushes under her assessing gaze, looking away.

“Never mind,” she mutters.

“No, I want to know more,” Hyoseong says. “Why now?”

“Jeonghwa told me she’s had a crush on me,” Jimin says, tilting her head to stare up at the ceiling. “For years now.”

Hyoseong doesn’t say anything. When Jimin turns to look at her, affronted at her lack of response, she’s just staring at Jimin, looking confused.

“What?” Jimin asks, a little snippy.

“You didn’t know?” Hyoseong says.

Jimin’s mouth falls open as she stares at Hyoseong.

“You did?”

It comes out a little loud, but Jimin thinks she’s entitled to loud, all things considered. She didn’t even think Hyoseong knew Jeonghwa liked girls.

She knows Hyoseong and Jeonghwa are close; Jeonghwa has always responded well to the way Hyoseong alternates between babying her shamelessly and treating her as an equal. But she didn’t know Jeonghwa had talked to Hyoseong about this, and it stings.

“I thought it was obvious! She’s always staring at you! And like, lifting you up for no reason!”

“Jeonghwa lifts everyone up for no reason! She carried Yoonji bridal style for fifteen minutes yesterday!”

They pause to catch their breath at the same time, both of them flustered and pink in the face. Jimin meets Hyoseong’s eyes, catches the the little quirk of her mouth where she’s fighting a smile, and - oh no.

Jimin doesn’t know who cracks first, but it’s only a matter of seconds before they’re both sprawled out on the practice room floor, wheezing in hysterical laughter.

“We’re ridiculous,” Jimin manages, trying to catch her breath.

“Little bit,” Hyoseong agrees, still chuckling a little.

They’re quiet for a moment.

“Did you really not know about Jeonghwa?” Hyoseong asks, finally, question aimed at the ceiling from where she’s lying on her back.

“Did you really know this whole time?” Jimin counters.

Hyoseong shrugs.

“For a long time I thought maybe she had a crush on all of us, honestly,” she says, voice matter-of-fact.

“It’s really weird that we’re saying this stuff out loud,” Jimin muses. “Don’t you feel weird?”

“No?” Hyoseong sounds confused.

“Oh,” Jimin says. “Cool. That’s fine!”

Hyoseong turns to squint at her suspiciously.

“Jimin-ah,” she says slowly. “What did you say to Jeonghwa? When she confessed?”

Jimin pauses.

“I said thank you,” she says, honestly. “And then we fell asleep.”

“Like… together?”

Jimin frowns.

“Yes?”

“Is that… normal, for you guys?”

Jimin narrows her eyes.

“What are you implying?”

“C’mon, Jimin-ah,” Hyoseong laughs. “You have to admit, it’s a little bit… You know.”

If Jimin wasn’t lying down, she’d stamp her foot petulantly. As it is, she settles for flailing her whole body and huffing in exasperation.

“I don’t know, unnie, or I wouldn’t ask,” she says.

“I think you were right earlier,” Hyoseong says, instead of answering. “I do feel weird talking about this.”

Jimin wants to interrogate her further, but before she can launch another tickle attack Taehee slams the door to the practice room open.

“Oh, are we lying on the floor? Fun!”

Taehee bounds over to them like a particularly statuesque overgrown puppy and drapes herself onto Jimin.

“Hi,” she whispers into Jimin’s ear.

“Hi,” Jimin giggles. She can feel Hyoseong’s eyes on her, still, but she puts all her focus on Taehee instead.

Whatever Hyoseong was going to say, it doesn’t matter. Jimin is happy with things the way they are, and that’s the most important thing.

Isn’t it?

Jimin thinks about it a lot, all through the practice and recording sessions and photoshoots in preparation for their comeback.

They’re getting older, now, and more settled in their roles. They don’t spend all of their time together as a group. They all have other friends, and other responsibilities.

It scares Jimin, thinking about what it’s going to be like when they go their separate ways. When they don’t see each other almost every day, and they have to coordinate their schedules to meet up.

Feeling sentimental and off-kilter, she looks up old videos of the seven of them. Interviews, mainly. She cringes at her past self, at how desperate she was to be liked. How she smiled at the camera, big and bright and fake, constantly touching her hair and her face. Constantly judging herself, comparing herself to everyone around her.

Especially Jeonghwa, who has always been so loved. Who effortlessly captures the hearts that Jimin has had to work so hard to charm.

“If you were a boy, which member would you date?”

“Jeonghwa! She likes cute and romantic things,” Jimin smiles broadly in her own Vlive, blonde hair flopping in her face.

“Our Jeonghwa is so pretty!” Jimin beams at the foreign interviewer, backstage at the Chicago arena.

“Our Jeonghwa is good at everything! I bet she’d be a good girlfriend, too,” Jimin stage-whispers to the Inkigayo MC, like she's telling a secret.

“Shit,” Jimin whispers.

“Everything okay over there?” Hyoseong asks mildly, looking over from where she’s lying in her own bed. She’s wearing a plush polka dotted headband and a face mask as she scrolls through something on her phone, the sight so familiar that it calms Jimin down a little just to look at her.

“Just a cramp,” Jimin lies. “I’m fine!”

“Do you need a massage?”

Jimin doesn’t, but she wants someone to comfort her and she doesn’t want to ask for a hug, so -

“Yes,” she whines. “Hyoseong-unnie, you’re my only hope!”

Hyoseong laughs and drops her phone on her bed, climbing over to Jimin’s bed and pulling Jimin’s calf onto her lap.

Hyoseong’s thumbs dig into her perfectly healthy calf muscle and Jimin smiles up at her, bright and wide, as she tries not to focus on anything else.

“Soojin-unnie,” Jimin whines. “I have a really big problem.”

“Is your hair falling out again?” Soojin asks, not even paying enough attention to look up at Jimin as she says it.

Jimin slaps her arm.

“We agreed not to talk about that!” she hisses, looking around in case anyone else heard.

They’re pretty isolated, sitting in the corner waiting for Taehee to finish recording her part, so Jimin’s secret is safe for now.

“My hair is fine,” Jimin continues. “But like. Unnie.”

“Yes?” Soojin looks up, finally, and narrows her eyes. “Park Jimin. Are you having a crisis?”

“Nooooooo,” Jimin hesitates.

Soojin just stares at her.

“Maybe,” Jimin admits, wilting under Soojin’s skeptical gaze.

“Do we need to have a wine night? It can’t be tonight, I don’t want to be puffy tomorrow.”

“Friday?” Jimin suggests. “After the shoot.”

“You’re on.” Soojin grins and winks, blowing Jimin a cheesy kiss. Jimin crosses her eyes, sticks out her tongue for good measure.

Soojin’s true to her word, and shows up at the apartment late Friday night with two bottles of wine and what can best be described as a bag of carbs.

“Did you just like… buy out a Paris Baguette?” Jimin squints as she rifles through the bag, pulling out a brioche before changing her mind and dropping it back in.

“I didn’t know what kind of emergency we were dealing with!” Soojin defends herself as she cracks open the white. “It didn’t seem like a wine and cheese situation.”

“That’s fair,” Jimin says, mournfully taking a bite of chocolate croissant and making grabby hands for the wine glass Soojin hands her way.

“So,” Soojin starts, relaxing into the couch. “Tell Auntie Soojin what’s going on.”

Jimin wrinkles her nose.

“It’s so weird when you do that.”

“You love it,” Soojin says loftily, waving a dismissive hand. “Now tell me.”

“Okay,” Jimin sighs. “Unnie. Have you ever been in like… you know. Love, or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” Soojin looks amused.

“Stop,” Jimin whines. “I’m so embarrassed, don’t make it worse.”

“What’s going on, Jimin-ah?” Soojin presses. “Usually I’m the one acting emotionally constipated.”

“No, you have to answer me,” Jimin insists, pouting a little for emphasis. “I asked first.”

“Fine,” Soojin sighs dramatically, drooping into the couch cushions. “Yes, I have been in love. It was terrifying, and I’m never doing it again.”

“Did you know? When you fell in love, did you know right away?” Jimin can’t help leaning forward a little, desperate to know more.

“I think so.” Soojin’s expression is far away as she considers the question. “Yeah. I think I knew. I just didn’t want to acknowledge it, you know? It scared me.”

“Oh,” Jimin says quietly.

“Now,” Soojin says, voice gentle. “What’s going on with you, Jimin-ah? Hmm?”

“I think…” Jimin starts. “I think maybe I’m in love with Jeonghwa?”

Soojin pauses.

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“No,” Jimin says. “Well, yes. Kind of. I mean, I know how she feels.”

“Do you,” Soojin’s voice does something weird. Jimin looks at her.

“Unnie,” she whines. “Don’t be like that.”

“Sorry, Jimin-ah,” Soojin laughs, pausing to take a gulp of her wine. “I’m just surprised you’re talking to me about this now, that’s all.”

“Why?” Jimin frowns. Her own wine glass is still half-full, forgotten on the floor next to the couch.

“I dunno,” Soojin shrugs. “Jeonghwa liked you for so long, and all this time she never did anything about it. I just figured at this point she never would.”

“Did everybody know about this except me?” Jimin’s cheeks burn.

“Honestly? Yes,” Soojin says frankly. “Jeonghwa is not exactly a subtle child.”

Jimin frowns again.

“I changed my mind, I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she decides, reaching for her wine glass on the floor. “Let’s just drink instead.”

Soojin laughs, loud in the empty living room.

“All right, Jimin-ah,” she concedes. “But for what it’s worth, I know you care about Jeonghwa a lot, okay? And if you do love her, I don’t think it’s too strange that you didn’t notice. You were just too close to see it happening, that’s all.”

Jimin hums in acknowledgement as she tears into a milk bun.

It makes sense when she thinks about it that way, but the uncertainty still makes her itch.

They’re performing tomorrow.

They’re performing tomorrow but today is yet another rehearsal, all of them sweaty and ugly in their oversized T-shirts and black face masks. Yoonji is in full PD mode, micromanaging the lights while Taehee imitates her from about ten feet away. Hyoseong hasn’t cracked a smile in over an hour, face serious as she runs through the choreography over and over again, like there’s any chance she doesn’t have the whole show memorized right down to the millisecond.

Back when she was a trainee, Jimin could never have imagined booking a stadium this size. Even after they debuted, when their performances got cut for broadcast and nobody knew who they were and they still didn’t have any money, a tour like this seemed like a pipe dream.

Jimin still has moments, even now, when she’s lying in bed in fancy hotel rooms or boarding private planes or getting recognized on the street when she’s thousands of miles from home, when it feels like she imagined all of it. Like she’s going to wake up any minute now in a tiny dorm room, trying to sleep through the sounds of six other girls whispering and snoring.

The other girls make fun of her sometimes for all the pictures she takes of them, but Jimin needs them to ground her. Needs the pictures to remind her that this is real, and that they’re all doing it together.

She has her phone out, now, filming Soojin as she mouths the words to her solo.

Someone touches her waist, pinching ever so slightly, and Jimin shrieks and whirls around.

It’s Jeonghwa, cackling in delight.

Jimin switches to camera mode and refocuses on Jeonghwa’s face, zooming in tight on her toothy smile.

I love you, Jimin thinks, as she stares at the tiny image of Jeonghwa’s laughing face on the screen.

“Jeonghwa,” Jimin says urgently, eyes flicking up from the screen so she can look at her properly. “Jeonghwa. Listen.”

Jeonghwa’s laughter fades slowly, lingering longest in her eyes.

“Unnie?”

“I said there wasn’t someone I wanted, before,” Jimin says. “Remember?”

“Yes,” Jeonghwa says slowly, looking more serious now.

“I didn’t want anyone, but it was because I didn’t think I needed to,” Jimin says. Her cheeks are burning, heart pounding in her chest. “I thought I already had them.”

She takes a deep breath, meeting Jeonghwa’s big dark eyes.

“I thought I already had her. Do you understand?”

Jeonghwa nods hesitantly.

“I think so,” she says slowly.

Jimin laughs, helplessly.

“I really love you, Jeonghwa. Did you know that? I think I’ve loved you for a long time.”

“Do you mean…” Jeonghwa trails off, looking shell-shocked. Jimin’s so fond of her it’s stupid. She loves Jeonghwa’s bunny teeth and her gaping mouth. She loves Jeonghwa’s crinkled up nose and her big, big eyes.

“Yeah, I do,” Jimin says firmly. She reaches out to wrap both her arms around Jeonghwa’s biceps, squeezing her close in a bear-trap hug.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” she murmurs quietly, releasing Jeonghwa only to get wrapped up immediately in another hug, a real one this time. Jeonghwa’s arms are tight around her neck. This close Jimin can feel the beat of her heart, hear the catches in her breath.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jeonghwa says, finally. Her voice is low and a little choked. “Please don’t be sorry. I’ve been so happy because of you.”

Jimin closes her eyes and breathes in. Jeonghwa smells like sweat and detergent and that stupid body spray she’s so obsessed with, comfortable and familiar.

“I’m happy because of you too,” Jimin murmurs into Jeonghwa’s shirt.

“Yah! What’s happening over there? Jeonghwa, did you start your run through yet?”

Hyoseong’s voice startles them apart, Jimin wiping her eyes with her forearm as Jeonghwa does the same with the hem of her shirt.

Jeonghwa is still grinning, and she pulls Jimin in for one last impulsive squeeze before she runs over to Hyoseong.

Jimin watches her go, smiling.

She pulls out her phone to take another picture. Fills her camera roll with Jeonghwa’s long legs, her serious face. The way her shirt drapes over her toned shoulders, and her sweet bunny smile when she gets it right on the first try.

Concerts are always electrifying. Jimin can feel the energy before they even go on stage, hear thousands of people screaming, so close now that it sets her on edge in the best possible way.

They go on in five. Jimin’s face is hidden beneath layers of stage makeup, her hair stiff with product. Her costume sparkles when it catches the light. She loves this, all of it. She feels untouchable.

She looks over her shoulder, just to check that familiar presence next to her.

Jeonghwa is shining, so much pent-up energy that she glows with it. Jimin can feel the love radiating off of her, how it's pouring out of her and filling the rest of them up. Filling Jimin up most of all.

They’ll tell the rest of the group later, maybe even tonight after the show. But for now it’s a secret between the two of them, something precious. For now when Jeonghwa smiles, brilliant and bright, Jimin knows it’s just for her.

Jeonghwa has so much light. Jimin smiles back, letting herself reflect it back. Shining her own light in return, so that they can shine together.

The stage opens up before them.