Work Text:
a once vivacious smile fades in the dimness of the room that used to be their safest haven.
jungeun, she’s alone. there’s a few bottles scattered around the house that haven’t been disposed of. jungeun stared down, bottles of all sorts of shapes and colors reflecting her miserable expression. she could craft an installation piece out of the shattered fragments; perhaps she’ll fuck around and create some sort of artsy project about loneliness. everyday, she became increasingly careful when walking around the place. any one of those fragments could give her a cut.
lethargically getting up, she drags herself to the kitchen for some water. that was the bare minimum of living, anyway. there aren’t any arms around her waist greeting her good morning, but she can feel the her unwavering presence. she misses her.
consumed cigarette boxes filled her trash cans, and she wonders if the pick up service is concerned. she’s well off enough to purchase many expensive brands. though, no brand could give her enough dopamine to get through the day. it’s hard quitting, and she doesn’t feel like going to group therapy. getting help is too time consuming, not that she had anything better to do.
jungeun had no motivation to get her life together.
haseul left her drowning.
after months of pondering over why she gave up their paradise, she is still left with no conclusion. the reason haseul woke up one day and decided to leave everything behind was buried somewhere in the sea bed. haseul blocked her number, social medias, and email. she wanted nothing to do with her anymore, and jungeun was left paralyzed and mute for a few hours. she faced the front door. when she moved from her standing position that evening, everything seemed foreign to her. those first few moments felt so violent.
how could someone do that? who leaves a perfectly established relationship and breaks a million promises out of the blue? jungeun wanted to run after her, knock some sense in, but nothing made her move.
maybe it’s the fated slam on the door that shocked her, along with the sticky note that was revealed. she pasted it on the door for her to peel off and read. jungeun stared at that note from afar.
“i can’t do this thing with you. you’re a wonderful person, but work is telling me i can’t have a relationship. i think my boss is right, i can’t keep a career like this with you. i just don’t want to run around anymore. i hope your dreams...come true as much as i want mine to.”
ah yes, work.
haseul was a travelling fashion designer, constantly stressed to meet deadlines. her dream had always been to be featured in a paris couture showcase. she sacrificed a great amount to even land runway gigs on local fashion shows, and her manager was constantly pestering her to finish her work. but she did it. and with her own label, "a girl’s wish", the workload was draining.
haseul’s creativity never suffered, but she herself felt the pressure coming at her throat. she couldn’t get things done at her pace, and it pained jungeun to see haseul rack her brains out over a stupid piece of thread.
her and jungeun had met in one of the shows, jungeun working as a hair stylist at the time.
it seemed as if the two hit it off instantaneously.
they agreed romance wasn’t dead and went on the most memorable dates. their bubbly humor made many customers groan, but they didn’t care. their laughs were cute and they knew it.
after one runway night, they kissed under a scarlet moonlight, lips floating and cotton candy tasting. the pink highlights enveloping their skin were intimate and unusually perfect for that occasion.
a few days after they began dating, they spent valentine’s day together with a blast. they were all about bouquets of lilies and roses. cheesy as having vanilla sex after a glass of wine. even had their own little special thing: candy bracelets.
jungeun got inspired to get her candy heart-shaped accessories from one of haseul’s exclusive collections. haseul named a set of pastel-themed gowns “azucar,” which was “sugar” in spanish, she explained to her once.
haseul was getting all jittery talking about her fashion line. it was sweet and cute and adorable.
when jungeun asked her why she loved such saccharine color schemes, haseul rambled about how much she loved candy. she loved anything sweet. that small fact stuck with her ever since.
she blushed in rosy hues when she discussed lolipop flavors with her. she wondered what colors jungeun added to her snow cones (to which she answered "only red"). she roamed around candy parlors with a curiosity so childlike.
from then on, jungeun swore that she would only be sweet, just for her. she wanted to make her own tradition just to keep her sweetness in check.
every month, they got each other candy bracelets amongst baskets of chocolatey delights.
they took low budget photoshoots outside of runway venues and stadiums.
they spent every commercial holiday drinking booze and opening endearing presents.
they planted a ton of colorful tulips in the empty field on their patio.
they were cheering up each other through work’s worst times.
except this one.
like sharks viciously awaiting their prey, the manager and her company believed haseul was slacking. they wanted her at work more, with no more holidays and no more days off. haseul had given them plenty of profit, and the company wasn’t going to let her slip. her boss even threatened her huge salary amount. haseul, being diligent and devoted to her career, needed to keep moving forward somehow. she needed to leave something behind once again.
haseul, though jungeun would never get to know this, panicked ferociously the last night they slept together. she hesitantly let go of jungeun’s hand to cover her deep sobs. she felt horrible, horrible for doing this. when morning came, she wouldn’t even let jungeun say goodbye or convince her to stay. she wants her dream more than anything, and she didn’t want to break someone else’s heart again.
but like the courageous person she is, she did it. she left. she didn’t want to. she doesn’t know if she’s coming back. but she did it.
their blossoming three-year relationship failed to grow any longer.
jungeun might never understand, but if it’s for the sake of haseul’s glamorous dream becoming her reality, she’s glad that she was abandoned. well, she can pretend she’s happy for her.
haseul never hinted that she would come back. perhaps she couldn’t tell her she would. in the fashion industry, once you make it, it’s a tedious life of studio work. she couldn’t promise anything.
she should think haseul’s a workaholic bitch, but that only causes her to long for her again. even more than she already did. jungeun knew how much candy-colored gowns and gracefully-laced sleeves meant to her. and it was cute, really. so even if she did ghost out of her life, she couldn’t possibility hate her. she had two very important choices, after all.
haseul chose her dream over jungeun. and man did it make jungeun miserable.
jungeun asks whatever spiritual being was cursing her if she was nothing more than a hindrance. it’s easy to think life was set up against her in such an absurd situation. where or who was she to run to now? it’s been months now, and she’s still lost.
the decorations and trinkets delicately placed in their house was losing its appeal. their metaphorical coral reef filled with greens and reds was dull in her perception now. jungeun couldn’t see the saturated painted walls anymore, only grayish pinks and mints. all that they’ve built was crumbling down, layer by layer, wall after wall. this place was an ocean of dead air and unsaid words. she regrets letting haseul go so easily.
no, that’s wrong, haseul’s the one who let her go.
jungeun drank all of haseul‘s everything, and now drowns in the memories they share. jungeun listened to every word she’s ever said. every breath haseul has ever taken. she filled herself up with her, for those three years. that time happens to be the happiest she’s ever been. with all that stripped from her, she’s left with a bottomless pit of hopeless.
yeah, what’s she’s supposed to do now? follow a dream? please, all she wanted was haseul back.
jungeun is sitting in front of the wall lifelessly, back against the wall and staring at the picture frames adorning all four corners.
maybe haseul’s making the headlines right now, while jungeun just pathetically lays on the ground, anguished and blanked out.
maybe.
each one of the framed photos connected—they told their story. the first picture they hung was a low quality picture in the showcase they met, haseul with one arm around jungeun. from that moment on, they went to spectate local runways to give themselves a nostalgic feel of their first meeting. that’s how many of their weekends were spent.
then there were a few perfect shots from instagram collaged. whenever they felt sexy (which was often) they tried on fishnets, chokers, and thigh highs to have a photoshoot. even now, jungeun thinks she looked tempting.
lastly, signed polaroids framed together. the photos that snapped her heartstrings. they were of the self-indulgent trips they took to candy shops. one has haseul’s mischievous smirk as she snatches several gummy bears from a shelf. another has her feeding jungeun a tootsie roll. next to it, jungeun with her arms outstretched, skittles raining down on her. that genuine smile she had was something only haseul could bring out. she wished that smile lasted longer.
that wish had sunken into a somber ocean, no passage of light free for her to get it back up.
there is no light, no way out. only a glowing and fading vein pulsing through her body, though her limbs feel useless and cold.
she lets out inaudible sobs. no one recognized her hidden expression as pain. she at least perfectly imaged haseul walking beside her, even when she’s no longer here. she continued to smile silently through the streets, in contemplation of her worth.
jungeun knew more than anyone else that you couldn’t keep a person from leaving.
she misses her. so bad, so much.
࿔
in her pensive self-degradation and sorrow, her phone went off disruptively. it took her six rings until she could pick up.
“hey, jungeun. you’re usually quick to answer, hope i’m not bothering you.”
it was jinsoul. the gentle intonation of her voice calmed her down. jungeun hated speaking when she was sobbing, it was embarrassingly uncomfortable.
jungeun relies on that voice to tranquilize her panicked breaths. her thoughts swam to the surface once again. she could respond simply now,
“hi jinsoul! uh, how do i say this? i relapsed into heartbreak? not feeling very nice right now.”
“i know how much you loved her, honey. and losing someone so suddenly after you believed you could live with them forever? it’s...unimaginable.”
“yeah. then again, it was only three years.”
“all the time you spent for her love...you don’t deserve that. i know she had a serious issue to deal with, but to leave you in such a state is careless,” jinsoul emphasizes.
“i suppose.”
a comfortable silence emerged, helping jungeun stabilize herself. nothing prepared her for what came next, however.
“can i come over?”
the question shouldn’t have been as hard to answer as it was. it’s yes or no. but jungeun hadn’t had anyone over in months, not after all the time haseul stayed in.
the house was cluttered and reeking of alcohol. she needed to clean up for once. plus, if it hadn’t been for jinsoul coming over, she wouldn’t have motivation to ever touch up the house.
she needed courage to move on, like haseul did ever so quickly.
“yes, jinsoul. that’d be nice.”
jinsoul smiled from the other end.
“of course! i’ll be there in ten, dumpling.”
࿔
jungeun opened up the door cautiously, letting jinsoul in along with her box of cookies. seeing another human being for the first time in months was quite a change.
jinsoul was subtlety breathtaking, simple ripped jeans and soft blue crop top making a strong impression. her makeup was natural with highlights accenting her cheekbones, and carried a purse that matched her nude-colored lipstick.
jungeun was stunned at how brilliant her eyes shined.
“want one?” jinsoul asked excitedly, offering a sprinkled sugar cookie to jungeun. she bit it off her fingers and made a cheeky smile.
“thank you, these are my favorite.” because those cookies, too, were sugary just like haseul.
“i know you as much as i know myself.”
jungeun felt a little shy after that, because it was true. knowing each other since high school, they have gone through the fun and the dirty together. jinsoul and jungeun connected like attracted magnets. they constantly hung out at jungeun’s patio lounge, jinsoul’s tiny apartment, or at public parks where the atmosphere was light. there, they would take fairly long walks and discuss life. how it sucks, how it doesn’t. how much it hurt sometimes. and they agreed on the majority of emotional stances.
they gave each other criticism and advice, building each other up positively.
that’s one of the reasons she could confide in jinsoul.
she stirs up pink lemonade for her elegantly, and jinsoul can’t stop expressing her gratitude. she loves the classic sliced lemon sticking out of the glass.
“you don’t have to thank me so much, in fact, you shouldn’t. i’m sorry i haven’t talked to you in a long time,” jungeun spoke, lowly voiced.
“we’re catching up now, that’s all that matters. i’m not gonna get mad like that, especially when i know you’re healing.” jinsoul had a special kind of empathy for her, she always has. she hated it when girls got petty with each other.
“let’s watch some ridiculous tv show for shits and giggles.”
jungeun handed a blanket to jinsoul and sat on the couch. they were about a foot apart from each other, jinsoul placing her cookies in the middle. there’s a popular drama playing, and jungeun keeps it on just to judge how terrible it is. jinsoul snickers at the poor fashion choices and costuming, stating that one of the men looked like a zucchini. they turn to each other during awkward kiss scenes and burst out laughing.
there was one scene that sort of made jinsoul feel bad for the characters. one of the boys was suffering from unrequited love and was isolated in his room to think about what his crush and he could’ve been. first came a tear, then a hiccup, to which jinsoul attempted to hide. she was unsuccessful, as jungeun began wheezing at the sudden wetness in jinsoul’s eyes.
“so soft, you cry during scenes like this.”
jinsoul drooped her head an placed her palms on her cheeks. the drama ended and she reacted with a “whew,” she thought of what they could do next. she looks over to jungeun and notices her smile fade when she turns off the tv and sees her reflection from the black screen. jungeun’s expression was dim.
it was then she remembered what she really wanted to show jungeun today.
jinsoul loved learning anything about her dear friend, but you can only learn so much about a friend.
she wanted more than meaningless trips around the city and lighthearted conversations. she wanted to know the world jungeun hid, and it was such a shame she had shown it to someone who left her everything behind.
she’s craved the feeling of being prioritized, to the point where she was envious of haseul being jungeun’s first choice. her first love.
and jinsoul felt selfish, for wanting to be more than what they’re supposed to be. and they hadn’t done those ‘best friend’ things in a long time.
friends. study buddies. stressed coffee shop coworkers. sworn-secret anime enthusiasts. whatever.
three years felt so long. they had been friends since high school, but during jungeun and haseul’s relationship, she was third-wheeling most of the time. jinsoul, as tragic as it sounds, has had a crush on her since way before they started dating. the past four months, jungeun had been alone, even without her.
she needed more space than ever, but today jinsoul had enough of not seeing her.
she wasn’t gonna let her become some ghost in a haunted house with cursed memories. she wanted her to rule like a princess again.
she thought it was some kind of evil act to see her devastating breakup as an opportunity. she almost laughed at the way her mind wandered off to such egotistic thoughts. day and night, jinsoul’s desire to do more than purely support her was growing. but jinsoul didn’t just romanticize what they could be. she wouldn’t take advantage of her; more than anything, she wants to show that she simply cares. she wants to see her celestial-bright smile when she looked up to the sky, just like before.
just like with haseul.
she thought of ways to make jungeun’s broken heart hers to fix; hers to keep. hers to strengthen and bond with. she wants to protect it the best way she can.
jinsoul remembered a time when the two were in front of her, exchanging candy bracelets.
and as if cinematic parallels, she goes out to the patio, where jungeun’s field of tulips were. they hung out here a lot in high school. they, too, shared wonderful memories.
jungeun follows her out, flummoxed at her hyper movements.
jinsoul makes a stop between red and blue tulips, instilling her legs on ground and getting emotionally prepared for her little plan.
jungeun makes an inquiring expression, standing directly in front of jinsoul.
jinsoul then held and clutched onto jungeun’s right hand—gently, delicately—as if she was a freshly-painted mural.
and it isn’t much. it really isn’t. but despite jinsoul knowing so, she digs into her purse with her free hand and reveals a candy bracelet. She places it onto her palm lightly.
tiny beads of pastel hues encircled the candy bracelet. there was white, pink, blue, orange and green, which happened to be jungeun’s favorite colors. a big yellow heart with the words “love u” was dangling in the center.
it was adorable, to say the least.
momentarily, jungeun is set aback and surprised. jinsoul had a soft spot for her, and she didn’t know how to feel about such a subtle confession. and like a psychic, jinsoul interrupts her thoughts:
“you dont have to think too much of it! just eat it, i just want you think of someone other than haseul when you want to be sweet.
think of her. think of jinsoul.
she’s right. jungeun doesn’t have to think too much of it. she needs to accept the things she enjoys without associating it with someone she’s lost. jinsoul understood what she needed, as always.
“jinsoul, i just have to say...that you’re so sweet and delicious.” jungeun plays with jinsoul’s nose, before realizing what she had just said, “wait, no not like that!”
jinsoul raises an eyebrow at the implicit remark.
“ha, whatever,” she retorted, lazily wrapping her arms around jinsoul’s thin frame.
she pouts and pulls jungeun’s collar closer to her. she kisses her on the cheek and embraces her, tightly, with a beating heart.
just like jungeun’s, jinsoul’s candy bracelet had a near-identical pattern. the two were candy hearts, in a tulip field, under a plentiful sky.
their feelings and thoughts are scattered, but those are waves that bring new experiences. they’ll soon know just how much they need one another. care for one another. love for one another.
“it’s the springtime, jungeun. look at the sky. it’s so clear.”
jungeun sees herself as the sky. her worries, her resentment was relieved. she was feeling as clear as the cloudless day. that’s when she realizes, that the beautiful person accompanying her at this moment is not another haseul. it is an effervescent woman named jinsoul. the regular next door best friend whose emotions are genuine and extraordinary.
“it’s almost magical, jinsoul.”
“there are more monarch butterflies than ever.”
they turned to face each other and smiled, nodding their heads.
“let’s go butterfly catching.”