Work Text:
“Joohyun-unnie, have you eaten?”
She hummed, said lightly, “Not yet.”
“Here.” A perfectly round orange was fitted into her hand. Kang Seulgi sat next to her.
They sat in silence at the table for a few minutes. Seulgi had in front of her a small bowl of white rice, kimchi, a fried egg, and a soup, which she passed over to Joohyun.
“I was thinking of making a cake for Yerim’s birthday,” mused Joohyun. She imagined a pale pink cake, with strawberries.
Seulgi swallowed a mouthful of rice and cafeteria kimchi. Through puffed cheeks, “Oooh, unnie, let’s do a surprise party!”
“With whom?”
“I can bring Jongin-ssi,” said Seulgi, chopsticks stirring rice in slow contemplation. “You bring your friends.”
Joohyun put the orange down on the table, taking up the soup spoon with that hand instead. Swallowed a sip of her soup. “Let’s have it in a practice room. We’ll surprise her with the cake and sing.”
“I’m excited for the cake you’re making, unnie,” said Seulgi cheerfully. “I heard from Yerim that you cook well.”
Joohyun smiled, but only slightly. “I’ve never made a birthday cake. I’ll have to find a recipe and ingredients.”
“If you need help, let me know.”
“Mm.” They ate quietly.
Finally Seulgi rose. Joohyun glanced up.
“I have vocal lessons. I'll see you at dinner?”
“See you,” echoed Joohyun, turning back to her food.
She eyed the orange, picking it up. Upon second look, it wasn’t very round at all; she felt her thumb slide over lumps and bumps, and when she squeezed the orange it left indents in the shape of her fingertips.
She had a feeling she wouldn’t have time for lunch, so she put the deformed orange in her bag for snacking on later.
Joohyun knew that, when people looked at her, they saw her as a pretty face and not much else. Once upon a time, that might have been apt. She knew it was her visuals that carried her through auditions. Still, she worked hard. She danced well, even if she didn’t before.
And sometimes her skills lay outside the realm of idolatry. She cooked, andcooked well, if Yerim’s insistence on eating her packed lunches was anything to go by. She excelled in games. The more scrutinized she felt, the more she felt it was important she reminded herself of such things.
She was meticulous about the cake, scoured Naver for the perfect recipe. She went to the store and bought all the ingredients, and chose the freshest strawberries. Here she was in the dorm kitchen, early in the morning, making a cake as close to fresh as it could be for the afternoon of Yerim’s birthday, before Yerim herself woke for school.
She’d hidden the cake, strawberry sprinkled and a delicate pink, in the fridge, and had prepared Yerim’s favorite lunch: a sunny-side up egg carefully placed in-between two layers of kimchi fried rice. Returning back to the dorm, she brought out Yerim’s uniform, ironed by her the previous night in anticipation for cake-baking this morning.
“Yerim-ah,” she called as she laid the uniform on her own bed for Yerim to easily grab and put on.
Yerim, predictably, grunted and rolled over.
“Yerim,” Joohyun said again. A prolonged groan.
She traveled to the edge of Yerim’s bed, sitting gingerly. Stroked the head of black hair that peeked out just barely over the covers. “Time for school.”
She felt more than saw Yerim take a deep breath, then pull down the covers to give her a childishly reproachful look. Joohyun doesn’t take it to heart; she knows Yerim stays up late and besides, she’s still a kid, just 13.
Also, it was her birthday.
“I’ll make you whatever breakfast you want if you get up now,” Joohyun bribed.
Yerim perked up. “Kimchi fried rice.”
“That’s your lunch too,” warned Joohyun.
Yerim pouted. “I’d eat it every meal if I could.”
“Okay, kimchi fried rice. Get up!” Yerim swung out of bed and Joohyun retreated to the kitchen once again.
There were others appearing in the kitchen now. Luckily Joohyun had saved leftover kimchi fried rice for herself to eat; she heated and plated that, and after waiting for another trainee to boil a soup, she cracked open an egg over the stove. By the time Yerim arrived in the kitchen, the sunny-side up egg was placed neatly over the reheated meal.
“Thanks, unnie.”
“You’re welcome. And who ironed your clothes?”
“You did, unnie,” said Yerim, splitting the sunny-side egg and scarfing down the meal. She thought she saw Yerim roll her eyes, but let it go.
“Have a nice day at school,” Joohyun said, helping Yerim into a light jacket and seeing her off.
“Bye unnie,” said Yerim. Then she hesitated, waiting. Joohyun bit her tongue.
Yerim lips twitched, the barest flicker of a frown, then turned and left.
“Did you tell them the plan?” whispered Joohyun, in-between run-throughs of the dance sequence.
“Yes,” said Seulgi, hands face-down on her hips, eyeing Yerim who was being assisted by their instructor. She leaned in to whisper. “But how are you going to get the cake here all the way from the dorms?”
"There's a kitchen on the other side of this building." The song started up again, and they fell into the dance sequence.
"I can ask Jongin-ssi to get it." said Seulgi, slowing her breathing after the sequence.
"But Sehun has longer legs."
Seulgi stifled a laugh.
When the instructor finally left them to their own devices, Seulgi and Joohyun slowly inched closer to the other trainees. Sehun made eye contact with Joohyun, and gave a slight nod of the head. Jongin's eyes glanced over them, but otherwise made no indication of anything in particular. Joohyun took note of the others there: Minseok, Junmyeon, Johnny, Chanyeol. The other trainees, ones they didn't know well, left some time after the instructor had, perhaps occupying another practice room or heading to the dorms.
Joohyun watched Seulgi sidle over to Jongin and whisper something, who then slid over to Sehun, who left the room. Seulgi made the "OK" sign to Joohyun, who pretended not to see it, instead observing Yerim's dancing in the mirror.
A silent few minutes passed.
"Where did you tell him to go?"
"Kitchen on the other side of the building."
"That's too vague," said Joohyun, exasperated.
"But it's all you gave me!" protested Seulgi, falling into step of the looped music.
“Johnny-ssi,” said Joohyun, when Johnny was close enough for her to say it quietly, “let’s start.”
As Johnny nodded and headed to gather the other boys, Joohyun called out, “Yerim-ah! Come here.”
Yerim paused mid-dance move, eyeing them through the mirror before retreating back to where they stood. Johnny gathered the others there, too.
“We need you to do something,” said Seulgi, setting a hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the door.
“What do you mean?”
Seulgi didn’t answer, only moved her out into the hall. Their little odd group stood there for a long moment, until Johnny led the way down the hall, peeking into the occasional practice room.
“We need you to go in here,” said Johnny finally, pulling open a practice door. The light from the hall just barely bled into the room; aside from that it was completely dark. Joohyun watched Yerim look into the pitch-black room, eyes wide, completely silent.
“Go inside,” said Joohyun. Yerim gave her a long look and then stepped in.
“Sit on the floor,” said Johnny.
“Put your arms up over your head,” said Seulgi. Joohyun gave her the side-eye.
Yerim did exactly as they told her. Johnny shut the door.
“Where’s Sehun?” whispered Junmyeon. Jongin shrugged.
They moved slightly down the hall and waited. Seulgi hovered by the practice room door, listening in, though for what Joohyun wasn’t sure. Joohyun leaned against the white walls, and then slid down them to rest on the floor when she got tired of that. Minseok and Junmyeon whispered to each other, Johnny, Jongin, and Chanyeol talking louder and with more laughter. Joohyun sighed, and then caught sight of Sehun lumbering down the hall, cake in his hands and a lighter poking out from underneath.
Joohyun lit the cake, upon which she’d placed slim white candles earlier that day. Johnny opened the door once more, slowly - a low, creaking sound - and they began a chorus of Happy Birthday . Someone turned on the light.
Yerim was crying, crouched down, arms above her head like they’d told her, sniffling heard even over their song. When she caught sight of the cake, she began to wipe her tears away.
“Happy birthday, Yerim-ah,” said Joohyun, softly, after the song.
Even though Yerim was trying her best to wipe the tears away, new ones replaced the old. “I thought I was in trouble!” she sobbed, a smile working its way across her face.
As Yerim laughed it off, Joohyun felt her own small smile dip.
"So that's why you didn't say it this morning," said Yerim, as they prepared to sleep.
"Mm," said Joohyun, and then didn't say much else the rest of the night. In her tiny dorm room bed, she thought of Yerim crying on the floor of the practice room, all alone.
Sometime during the day, she was pulled aside and handed a thin packet.
"It's for plastic surgery," the Manager-nim explained. "It's specific to what the company has decided you need to continue and become an SM idol."
Joohyun leafed through the papers, later on in her room, where Yerim was asleep early for what must have been the first time in months. They wanted to give her double lid surgery to open her eyes a little more and nose fillers for a stronger nose bridge.
She looked into the mirror under low light and touched her face. What was wrong with this face? For all the times she'd been told she was beautiful and pretty, it didn't seem to be enough.
Joohyun was lucky; her plastic surgery didn’t affect her singing or breathing much at all. Not that the company cared much, since they’d decided she’d be a rapper, and hence a nose surgery was okay.
Yerim, though. Yerim’s voice took on a different quality, a nasally tone.
It was when Joohyun was lying in bed, eyes closed and perfectly still, that she heard it. A quiet sniffle, followed by a slightly louder one. She opened her eyes to the darkness of the room, focusing on the shaking, Yerim-sized lump in the bed on the other side of the room.
The alarm clock on her bed stand read 1:00 a.m. in glowing red digits. Joohyun took a moment to mentally accept how much sleep she would likely lose in getting up from her bed, and then slid the covers off herself.
Yerim quieted. Joohyun let her feet drop to the floor, padding over to the edge of Yerim’s bed.
“Yerim-ah, what’s wrong,” she asked, voice quiet as always.
“Nothing,” mumbled the frozen lump. Joohyun sat on the bed.
“I can hear you crying.”
“My voice,” came the response from beneath the covers, after a terse silence. “It’s...it’s…”
“I was there at practice today,” said Joohyun. “It didn’t sound bad at all.”
“It was better before!” Yerim yanked down the covers. Her eyes, with unshed tears, caught the dim, alarm-clock light easily. “Now my voice is...it sounds so ugly!”
“It’s not ugly,” insisted Joohyun. “Just...different.”
“Different in a bad way,” said Yerim sourly. A few tears slipped down her face, reflecting red.
A moment’s pause, where Joohyun thought her words carefully.
“I can’t decide for you how you feel about your voice,” she said finally. “The company wants you to be a rapper, yes?”
A loud sniffle. “I want to sing too.”
“You will,” said Joohyun, sure. “Your voice is still good. But right now, sleep. You have school tomorrow, remember.”
Yerim groaned, then sniffed a bit. “Ugh, don’t remind me.” She turned to the side and pulled the covers over her head once again.
Joohyun reached out, petted what she assumed to be Yerim’s hair, once, twice. Then she got up and settled back in her own bed.
It’s not that Yerim cried in that practice room, per say, she decided later, that made her feel so bad. She thought about it for a long time, in quiet times cooking Yerim’s lunches, in the moments before she drifted to sleep. It’s how Yerim thought she was in trouble, and feared it. How this plastic surgery was just another step into trying to be what others wanted. Joohyun saw it, she saw it with herself and others around her and now she saw it in a child, watching a thirteen-year-old fall into the pattern like another dress shirt to be ironed.
They end up debuting too early. Yerim is too young to debut with them.
“I want to debut too,” Yerim mumbled to the ceiling. Joohyun stood at her ironing table not far from Yerim’s bed, working on a freshly washed uniform for Yerim’s classes tomorrow.
“You will, next year,” assured Joohyun.
Yerim rolled onto her side. “You guys are getting out of here. What if they decide they don’t want me in the group after all?”
“Your parents have already signed the contract. This time next year, you’ll have debuted as well.” Upon hearing this, Yerim rolled over so she was face-down on the bed and let out a long-suffering groan.
“Come here.” Joohyun held up the newly ironed outfit. Yerim slid, completely limp, off the bed, picking herself up off the floor to stand in front of Joohyun.
Joohyun held the outfit, a shirt, skirt, and jacket ensemble, up to Yerim. She’d tried her hand at fixing a few tears on the outfit. “Try them on?”
Yerim took the clothing from her hands. Joohyun turned back to turn off the iron.
“It fits, unnie.”
“Good.” Joohyun turned to look her over, checking the tear at the right hip and the one at the end of the skirt.
“Are you moving out?” muttered Yerim as Joohyun fiddled with one of the sleeves of the shirt.
“No. Our manager said they’ll keep us here until you’re ready to join us, and then we can dorm with the members.”
Yerim didn’t say anything, but wrapped her arms around Joohyun in a tight hug. Joohyun placed her chin on Yerim’s shoulder.
When Yerim finally did debut, the hate towards Yeri was so prevalent on social media that even Joohyun saw it. Joohyun, who was rarely online at all.
She saw Yerim’s ever-present smile slipping, and beneath all of it she could see her struggle to remain optimistic, to remain enthusiastic and idol and exactly who the agency wanted her to be. Yerim didn’t say anything to the other members about it, but they were all thinking about it.
Joohyun brought it up at their five-minute Friday group meeting. Or, tried to.
“Does anyone have any issues they’d like to talk about?” she asked.
Seungwan and Seulgi sat next to each other on the floor, facing Joohyun on the couch. A small glass table sat between them. Sooyoung sat adjusting her hair, moments after hurriedly dropping onto the other end of the couch. Yerim sat in-between Joohyun and Sooyoung, small and quiet, contemplative in a way that worried Joohyun.
“How about you two?” Joohyun addressed Seungwan and Seulgi.
“We’re doing fine,” said Seulgi. Seungwan added, “We resolved the fight from last week.”
“That’s good,” said Joohyun, smiling. It was a sort of ridiculous fight anyway, something about the placement of a carpet and the “psychological influence” it had in Seulgi leaving old clothes on the floor. “Sooyoung-ah?”
“Things are good.” Sooyoung glanced at Yerim, who stared resolutely at her hands resting in her lap. “Well, comeback is difficult, but…”
“Yerim-ah? Did you want to say anything?” interrupted Joohyun. Sooyoung opened her mouth to speak, then closed it before saying anything. Yerim shook her head. Seungwan and Seulgi looked toward each other.
“Yerim, if you need to talk you have all of us, okay?” said Joohyun.
“I know.”
“We want you here,” insisted Sooyoung. Seulgi and Seungwan voiced their assent. Joohyun kept her eyes on Yerim.
Finally Yerim looked up. “People are saying—" she cut herself off, frustrated.
“When Red Velvet debuted, people thought we’d fail,” said Seulgi. “People change their minds.”
Yerim said nothing, but nodded; Joohyun saw her watery eyes. Joohyun watched the members crowd around Yerim, heard them speak doting words over each other as Yerim’s tears spilled over. She thought about cake in a practice room.
It would be a long seven years.