Archive of Our Own

It is somewhere dead in the middle of the night when Jisu breaks out of the house, eyes scarily red, lip furiously tucked in between her teeth, the wind cutting through her hair and howling in her ears.

Outside greets her with darkness, silence, a trace of menthol for minty crispness, and whiffs of oakmoss — fresh air. Perks of living on the outskirts of the town. Jisu’s fingernails dig deeper into the blanket wrapped around her torso as she takes in a long sharp breath, filling her lungs with every scent roaming in the night. 

Jisu breathes out. The burning in her cheeks throughout the tip of her ears beginning to recede and the supple flesh trapped between her teeth loosening. Still, the frustration sits on her chest, pooling like a pond, steady. It’ll take a long walk to sort it out, she knows, she’s prepared even though the absence of sleep has made her bones feel somewhat fickle. 

Jisu always tries to clear her anger before sunrise. It’s easier to face other things in store when she does, and Jisu would do anything to make life a little less hard.

She stares out to the road, doesn’t think twice to walk away from her driveway, but slows her steps when something scarlet red catches the corner of her eye. Under a lamppost that’s built parallel to the one on her pavement, a slender frame stands, leaning against the pole. 

Jisu recognizes her almost immediately, almost thinks that her neighbor looks as lonely as her. A fellow feeling stirs within her at the sight. That is until the girl reaches down inside her leather jacket and pulls out a box that Jisu is so familiar with — the same brand as her mother’s, different flavor — she feels a sickly twist in her stomach just by watching it. 

The cuss that leaves her neighbor’s mouth is audible, Jisu guesses the box reveals her last cigarette. The redhead doesn’t seem too frustrated, unlike how Jisu remembers her mother to be when the same circumstance occurs. She simply puts it between her lips, thumb rolling to put her lighter in use. 

Jisu is not used to a breaking point. She usually has decent self-control and she doesn’t pry into people’s business as she doesn’t want them to pry into hers.

Jisu, out of all people, would never do something stupid like let her frustration expand and anger rise in her blood, or march towards her neighbor (one that she has never exchanged a word with) then swats away the cigarette before she could light it. 

No. Jisu is not that rash.

(But she does it anyway).

“What do you mean you did that to Lee Chaeryeong?” Yuna’s head is about to blow, the strawberry milkshake in her hand long forsaken since Jisu opened her mouth.

“I was annoyed,” she beckons while wiping the table, stopping, then furrowing her eyebrows at Yuna. “Also, why did you whisper her name like it’s confidential?”

Yuna shoots her down with a look, “You were crazy,” she corrects. “And would you rather I say it out loud?”

Jisu carries on with cleaning the grease made by the previous customer, “I don’t really care.”

“Unnie,” Yuna sighs exasperatedly. Jisu doesn’t get why Yuna is looking at her like the world tips on her hand. It doesn’t. The plates she has to deliver, on the other hand, do. “Don’t you feel the slightest bit bad?”

“I do,” Jisu frowns. She’s set herself into someone’s business, that’s her own boundary she crossed. “I just don’t see why you’re making it seem like a big deal.”

“Because it is?” Yuna retorts. “There’s a reason we don’t associate with Lee Chaeryeong and her boon companions.”

Jisu snorts, “Who’s we?”

“Half of this town, maybe.”

“You’re their representative now?”

Yuna finally takes a sip of her neglected drink, rolling her eyes in the process, “I speak the words that are passed to me and those words say that Lee Chaeryeong isn’t someone you want to get involved with.”

Jisu lets out a breath, throws the cloth over her shoulder, and rests both hands on the counter, “Look, I’ll compensate handsomely if she asks me to. There, no funny business, everything resolved in a whim.”

Yuna stares at her narrowly, clearly distraught at the other's underwhelming view of the matter. The bell on the door chimes along with the one in the kitchen station, another blob of sweat trails down Jisu's temple. Mornings are always a rush in this kitschy little diner.

Out the enormous window that opens onto the interchange, the town is starting to liven up, shops rolling up gates, tables being lugged out onto the sidewalk. Jisu’s smile is tight-lipped as she pats the top of Yuna’s head, “Now if you excuse me I have orders to jumble.”

She pushes herself off the counter, squares her shoulders, turning in her heels and you know what they say, talk of the devil and their horns will appear. Lee Chaeryeong and her boon companions have been the ones that walked through the door. They turn a lot of heads indeed, create plenty of murmurs too, yet they slide into one of the booths as if the attention weighs featherlike on them. 

“Aren’t you glad I didn’t say it aloud,” comes Yuna’s snide, followed by a string of intentional coughs. 

Jisu glares at the girl from her shoulder and stomps away. It’s a matter of minutes until she’s whisked away with dishes and platters stacked up to her forearms. The sturdy, crackling whir of the espresso machine and the sizzling effervescence of beef patties have become the elements that convene Jisu’s focus. They keep her grounded, aware of where she stands, thus resulting in working hard. 

She doesn’t get distracted. Unless it’s Yuna’s babbling mouth that makes advents in premature sunlights, scorching daytimes, or tardy nights (depending on her shift). Besides that, Chaeryeong’s scarlet red hair is another trait that pokes Jisu’s peripheral vision — not that it’s a distraction — it’s just there and she ends up stealing keeks because like said, she does feel terrible about what happened last night.  

However, Jisu has more demanding things to worry about and more orders to serve for the next five hours. So no, she doesn’t continue to stress after the girl that Yuna claims half of the town badmouths on. Not even when Chaeryeong’s stare has made a hole in her yellow uniform the entire time she flits around the diner like a hummingbird.

Nothing happens though. 

By seven-fifty Yuna bids her goodbye and pecks Jisu’s cheek before leaving to school with a group of classmates that stopped by to pick her up. Chaeryeong and her friends don’t even bother, alas playing darts on the platform the diner provides. Jisu figures they’re skipping the first period. She tries not to mind as the customer behind a newspaper has asked for his fourth coffee refill. She tries not to think that Chaeryeong’s prolonged stay could possibly have something to do with her.

The sun grows bolder and the crowd fizzles out. The smell of oily food has clung to Jisu’s attire and skin by the time her shift ends. She feels achy and tired, her calcaneus pulsating and she’s only gotten through roughly fifty percent of the day. 

Jisu’s okay, her mood lightens recalling her next destination. Shelving books at the library is one of the jobs she enjoys out of many. It’s the quietest she gets every once in a while. 

She steps out of the diner, sweat wiped off, free of smears, hair let down, and in comfortable clothes. She’s had a few slices of toasted bagel at the back so she’s fueled enough to go. 

Everything’s set and good, except that the usual route she takes has to round an abandoned playground which, out of the odds, is crowded by foolhardy students in scrappy clothes. They’re drinking from cans of cheap beers, swinging, cackling, and passing cigarettes. A menace to society as Jisu would describe on a bad day.

For now, though, Jisu wants to simply pass and get by. Time isn’t ticking any slower and the sun isn’t getting any younger, there are things needed to be taken care of. Much to her dismay, a voice calls after her as she walks alongside the crippled chain-link fence.

“Jisu, right?” 

Jisu turns around and stands, bewildered at her fate. 

Chaeryeong is lighting a cigarette, plumes of smoke billowing in front of her face. Jisu is relieved that the distance between them is adequate.

Chaeryeong looks at her intently, which makes her skin prickle with unease, and her eyes are a lighter shade than Jisu recalls. The sun may have something to do with that.

“You owe me,” Chaeryeong says, twirling her golden lighter.

Jisu’s eyebrows shoot to the roof, she’s registering the scene that’s unfolding before her, “I owe you…?” She reannounces slowly.

Chaeryeong bobs her head, looking not entirely interested. Still, she smiles, wicked and cunning towards Jisu, “Or did you think otherwise?”

Jisu is quiet. Surely, she did not think that way. She did not think about it much to be frank. 

Chaeryeong tilts her head, chin on the fist that holds the stick with her lower lip puffed out, “Don’t say you thought I’d let you off just like that.”

“You wouldn’t?” Jisu only asks because Chaeryeong’s tone is taunting. 

It’s mockery laced with flattery. Something that doesn’t sit right in her chest. 

“Love,” Chaeryeong clicks on her tongue, sounding sweet and bitter at the same time. “It’s not your cigarette that was thrown, was it?” 

The provocation flares something inside Jisu and heat floods her cheeks with red. Jisu’s eyes harden at the redhead despite the color under her skin comes from embarrassment. She keeps the emotion internally tucked. 

“It’s literally rolled with paper,” she mutters underneath her breath then exhales. “How much do you want?”

Chaeryeong taps the end of her cigarette and breaks into a gigantic, shit-eating grin, “You’re quick-witted, neighbor.”

Jisu wrestles with the cash in her pocket, trying to offer whatever she has fast for the smell has crawled into her buds and she’s probably a pinch away from repeating the same action that led her to this situation in the first place. 

“Here,” she manages to grab a few bills. “Is this enough?”

Chaeryeong hums in lieu of a response, flipping the lid of her lighter thoughtfully, creating a spark that ignites fluid in a wick. 

Jisu feels her patience peeling, Chaeryeong is doing it on purpose. 

“Keep it.”

Jisu arches a brow in defiance, “But you said—”

“Keep it,” she repeats. She takes a long drag before flashing a smile that’s quite lenient compared to the previous one. “I’ll find you when I need a favor.”

Jisu’s visage makes a note of skepticism. It almost sounds like Chaeryeong intends to use her for her own benefit whenever she desires if put in that way. However, although Chaeryeong’s mouth indicates crookedness and her gaze is frighteningly strong, Jisu perceives that it isn’t malevolent. 

She wasn't threatening her.

“You sure?” Jisu queries after a short pause. 

Chaeryeong scrunches her nose at the question. Jisu finds the reaction contrasting to the latter’s portrayal.

“As long as you don’t pretend like this conversation didn’t happen the next time I come to you.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Good,” Chaeryeong steps aside, the cigarette crunched under her Chucks. “I should stop getting in your way then.”

“I’m actually heading the other direction…” Jisu corrects in a small voice. 

Jisu expects her to be flustered at the very least but instead, a wide curve resurfaces on her lips like it’s the easiest thing done in this world, “I’ll see you around, neighbor.” 

That's the last thing Chaeryeong said before twirling in her heels with hands down her pockets while going back to her friends. Jisu wonders if it’s natural for someone’s hips to sway that much when they walk.

It shouldn’t. Chaeryeong’s, on the other hand, seems extremely effortless. Mesmerizing, too.

“Oh my god,” she smacks her own forehead. “What am I even thinking?”

On the rest of the way, Jisu ponders exactly how much trouble she would get for associating with Lee Chaeryeong. By the time she arrives, she hasn’t come up with anything that could harm her. 

“She said she’d find you when she needs a favor that basically means you’ll be seeing her again. Unnie, that's even worse!” Yuna scolds after darkness has cloaked the previously cloudless sky, her voice vibrating through the phone pressed to the side of Jisu’s face. 

“I thought you said no funny business. Didn’t you just agree that Lee Chaeryeong seems like she’s full of red flags?”

Jisu’s exhausting day ends with rain pouring over her humble abode and she finds herself curling up in the bay window, staring absently out at the forest that expands on the other side of the street.

Among the dropping temperature in her room, coldness seeps into her sweater and sinks into her skin. Jisu drones a lazy I know to the girl on the line. Her annoyance towards today’s encounter has dwindled jointly alongside the warmth of daylight, only fatigue remaining left in her bones.

“What if she asks you for weird things, like split your paycheck or something.”

“Yuna, it’s my neighbor slash your senior we’re talking about, not a beggar.”

It’s in the midst of their phone conversation when Jisu’s focus splits to the motorcycle that’s halting on the driveway next to hers. The body of the gorgeous vehicle reflects yellow under the lamppost. Jisu’s eyes are steady out the window, watching as Chaeryeong’s hooded figure hurriedly hops off the bike, completely soaked in the rain. 

“Speaking of the devil,” is what she says to Yuna. 

But there’s a catch. There always is.

She doesn’t say that her gaze lingers on how the wind ruffles Chaeryeong’s hair, heavy and damp. She doesn’t say that she takes a second look at the clothes that cling onto Chaeryeong’s pearly skin. She doesn't mention that she focuses on the frustration that connects Chaeryeong’s perfectly shaped eyebrows. 

Most importantly, Jisu doesn’t admit that she finds Chaeryeong incredibly hard not to look at even when she looks like a wet puppy.

It’s a little world that Jisu lives in  — a little town with little people that should make her feel bigger, but instead, it traps her into feeling consecutively smaller. Because a part of the world she lives in is the house that suffocates; threatening an escape yet she’s reluctant to forsake. 

Though, Jisu’s world wasn’t always small, to begin with. 

When Jisu first moved to town, she didn’t have to wake in the weak half-light of early mornings, bear through shift after shift, and stumble home when the moon cracks the horizon. 

She was seventeen and she came from the metropolis. She had a head full of hopes and a future mapped out in her dream university. She held onto them even when leaving the city was stark proof of the fissure in her life. 

She doesn’t precisely remember when her father decided he was in an unhappy marriage, the clash of words and cold shoulders had gone on for too long for her to mark the starting point. But she remembers the papers, the court, and her mother’s anguished denial. Suitcases and heaps of cardboard boxes, they paint themselves into the corner of her brain. 

Jisu recalls driving away in her mother’s red sedan. Scribbling answers on her SAT guidebook and being bitter enough to be aloof at her mother shedding tears on the driver’s seat. 

Situations were painfully similar for the next few months. What told those periods apart was her mother’s cry, which was chummed around bottles of heavy liquor and burnt cigarettes.

A lot has changed ever since. Jisu used to be brilliant in her people’s eyes. A do-gooder. They say her smile is infectious and her collection of sundresses makes her appear fairylike. Now Jisu is the Jisu that everyone knows — the city girl that works up to three jobs because her mother is too drunk to work and she’s sick of sucking up to daddy’s money. 

She has no good words surrounding her. 

But even with a life as miserable as this one, Jisu still daydreams, wanting to briefly forget the version of herself that keeps her nose to the grindstone, spent and bruised on her heels, just to pull through. 

Jisu has been stripped of a lot of things to make ends meet, including her voice and dignity. While not all of her bosses are shitty, there are some days where she’s less lucky. Today, it seems, is one of those days.

“Four times,” her manager says after dragging her to the alleyway behind the diner. “You took the wrong order four fucking times.”

Jisu dares not say anything, she can only swallow and look down, shamefully pushing down her dismay with acceptance. 

“Look, you’re tired, we’re all tired, but that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to fuck up.”

“Can’t give you no paycheck if y’keep slackin’ off.”

He spits to the ground. Jisu doesn’t flinch anymore, so often she’s been crushed by the weight of being disrespected. 

“Do you not want the money?”

Jisu wants it. 

“Answer me,” he snaps, colder than any winter in Jisu’s life.

She wants it. No, she needs it. 

“For fucks sake,” it’s harsher, Jisu can’t help but sag her shoulders a little. “Look me in the eye when I’m talking, show some fuckin’ respect.”

Jisu catches a glimpse of his hand flying and she freezes. Squeezing her eyes tightly, there is nothing she can say nor do, she just has to crawl lower, learn to bite more than she can chew. 

With a shrinking feeling, Jisu waits for it to come, but not a single touch happens to land on her skin. Not even the thinnest strand of her hair is harmed. 

Jisu gingerly peeks open an eye, sweet perfume and cigarettes waft into her nose.

Chaeryeong stands between them, her hand seizing the man’s wrist in the air. Jisu can tell that it’s a death grip from the way Chaeryeong’s fingers pale in color. 

Her manager’s face contorts in displease as he tries to tug his wrist from Chaeryeong’s fingers. Chaeryeong strengthens her grip for a bit before loosening, sending him slightly lurching backward.

“What the fuck’s your business?” He rubs his reddened wrist, fixing his raging glare on Chaeryeong.

“That people like you still exist these days,” Chaeryeong counters. 

He scoffs, “I wasn’t trying to hit her.”

Chaeryeong takes a step forth, completely shielding Jisu behind her, “I don’t care. No one touches women without their permission.”

“I know you,” a flash of recognition flashes in his eyes. If anything it increases his spite towards the redhead. “You’re full of shit. No one in this town wants you.”

Chaeryeong sighs, “Again, I don’t care. Just keep your hands off her.”

He laughs incredulously, dripping with venom, “What, Jisu? You’ve got a knight in shining armor now?”

With a sinking feeling, Jisu balls her hands into fists and steps aside. She forces herself to bow with every shame she has left in her body, “I’m sorry sir, I’ll be more careful, it won’t happen again.”

“Jisu…”

The man coaxes in smugness and views down both of them in favor. Jisu can feel Chaeryeong squaring in anger, she too, can feel irritation bubbling in her own chest, puffing in and out, her ribs closing in. 

Being powerless like this makes her exceptionally angry, but Jisu wants anything but to be angry right now. The emotion exhausts her and she’s already tired, she tells herself she’ll end up losing more if she doesn’t repress it.

“If you excuse me,” Jisu bows once again before bolting off, shoving past Chaeryeong’s shoulder.

She cuts through the corner to reach the sidewalk, pavement turning to asphalt. Jisu holds herself up, bearing the weight of everything, hoping that she’s strong enough to make it without breaking.

“Wait,” she hears Chaeryeong’s steps closing in. Jisu quickens her pace.

“Jisu, wait."

“Leave me alone,” she hisses.

“You’re seriously gonna give him the satisfaction like that?” Chaeryeong catches her breath once she’s beside Jisu.

Jisu's face immediately contorts in disbelief. Her legs stop launching and her lips twist into an unpleasant scowl. She turns to Chaeryeong, nails digging into her palms, “Why do you care?”

Chaeryeong pauses, crossing her arms on her chest, “I don’t. He just pisses me off.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m ridiculous?” Chaeryeong laughs incredulously. “I was trying to help.”

“You,” Jisu snaps. She scans Chaeryeong from the tip of her head to the sole of her high-top Chucks in spite. Stupid Chaeryeong and her stupid red hair, with her stupid leather jacket and that stupid mole on her chin. They make Jisu’s skin crawl like no other. “You ridiculously make my blood boil.”

Chaeryeong’s eyes widened, amusement in her slanted eyebrows like she had zero clue that Jisu owns that type of emotion. 

“Can’t you be angry at him the way you’re angry at me now?”

Jisu rolls her eyes, then walks in the other direction. She doesn’t get far as a hand shoots to her arm, tugging her in reverse.

Jisu groans exasperatedly, then whips back, “What do you want, Chaeryeong?”

"Your ankles," Chaeryeong points out. She searches for Jisu’s eyes. "Are you sure you can walk?”

Jisu meets them briefly then throws her neck to the other side, a prickly frown highlighting her forehead, “Just because I’m having a shitty day doesn’t mean I'm incapable of moving.”

“Do you always get this defensive?” There's an undertone of hassle in Chaeryeong’s voice as she bends down and plants her hand on her knee. “Jisu, that’s some nasty wound you got there.”

Jisu’s eyes trails to where Chaeryeong is looking, at the back of her ankles — the skin scraped and smeared with intense red — grazed by her flats’ rough lining. 

Jisu doesn’t even notice it has gotten this bad. The last time she checked they were small rashes that needed little to no treatment. 

“I’ll be fine,” Jisu argues.

“I knew you would say that,” Chaeryeong says, disgruntled. “You’re coming with me.”

"You're being serious?" Jisu’s face morphs into a half-dubious look.

Chaeryeong only shoots her down with a look she can't put a finger on and in all probability will take eons to decipher. Nonetheless, whatever it is, it's definitely not up for discussion. 

Jisu is not exactly sure how she ends up on a bench across the pharmacy. It all happened so quickly, Chaeryeong demanding her not to go anywhere, disappearing into the muted-colored store, then returning with a plastic bag. 

What stuns Jisu isn't the unexpected kindness rather it's Chaeryeong getting on one knee, hands gentle and careful as they try to slip off her flats. 

“I can treat it myself,” Jisu protests.

“Sit back,” Chaeryeong warns, firm yet soft-voiced. “I’m doing you a favor.”

“I don’t need a favor,” Jisu murmurs unclear and uncertain as she finds her own voice draining from her ears with the feather touch of Chaeryeong’s palm on her heel, doffing her footwear, swooping one leg at a time, and resting it on her supporting knee.

“I’m gonna spray it, so it’ll sting a little,” Chaeryeong informs in advance. 

“I can take it,” Jisu bites her lip. “Just get it over with.”

“Okay,” Chaeryeong replies. She starts with the antiseptic, lifting Jisu’s leg a bit to spray on the right spot. 

Jisu winces, hands flying over to Chaeryeong’s shoulders out of reflex, startled by the cool moisture hitting her bare skin rather than the sting against the wound. 

Chaeryeong looks up with an arched brow, “You okay?”

“Fine,” she clears her throat, jerking her hands away. “Just surprised.”

Chaeryeong chuckles and continues to add the same treatment — equally as cautious — to the other leg. Luckily, Jisu doesn’t do anything stupid like grab onto Chaeryeong again. More than once could spike the wrong idea, for instance: getting Chaeryeong to think that she’s doing it on purpose. 

Jisu shudders at the thought. 

“Does he lash out on you often?” 

The question takes Jisu aback, blinking, “He lashes out on everyone on a bad day.”

“And there are many bad days...?” Chaeryeong guesses, not ask.

Jisu avoids answering directly, “You know, I’d hate it if you pity me.”

Chaeryeong falls silent. 

“I’d hate it more if I allow some dude to beat up their employee.”

“He’s never hit me.”

“Sure didn’t look like it earlier.”

Finally, Chaeryeong moves on to plastering bandaids over the wounds. Jisu’s eyebrows are tied into a knot, not because it hurts but because Chaeryeong is undeviating throughout the entire process, delicacy flowing in every action she takes. Jisu can feel her fingers smoothing across the surface of the bandaid, strangely gentle, and she starts to wonder whether this is the same girl that Yuna endlessly warned her about. 

Chaeryeong is supposed to symbolize red flags. Jisu is more certain of it now that she’s seen at least five passersby in the past ten minutes whispering, their teeth chattering as they pour scorn on the redhead’s back. 

“People are staring,” Jisu blurts out without much thinking. She lets the words hang in the air for a second, perplexed and on edge. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” Chaeryeong breaks the silence.

“Yeah,” she answers honestly. “Aren’t you?”

“Why does it matter anyway?” Chaeryeong is smiling without a care in the world as she says that. Jisu is marveled.

“There,” the redhead says, giving her leg a small pat then settling it on the ground. “All patched up.”

“Thanks,” Jisu says awkwardly.

Chaeryeong nods and tips her neck up to the brunette, “Yeah, well, you owe me twice now.”

“Asshole.”

Chaeryeong tilts her head, a knee-buckling smile plastered across her face,  “Can I use my favor now?”

“Right now?” Jisu asks, raising both eyebrows along with the statement. 

“Yeah,” she affirms. It takes a second to realize that Chaeryeong hasn’t risen from the ground.

“You’re not asking me to do something illegal, right?”

Chaeryeong grins, generous and dazzling, “We’ll see.”

Jisu wants to believe that Chaeryeong isn’t the harm that everyone says she is.

“Vietnamese?”

“Hidden gem in town,” Chaeryeong says as she rubs her hands together to twirl the chopsticks. She picks up one out of five rolls and gracefully delivers it into her mouth, crooning once she takes a bite. “Spring roll is my shit.”

Jisu stares, riveted by the stroke of contentment across Chaeryeong’s face as she munches with ample cheeks. Anyone who quivers within Chaeryeong's presence clearly hasn’t seen her eat. And here Jisu was, thinking Chaeryeong would push her into doing something questionable.

“Are you not gonna eat?” Chaeryeong asks.

Jisu snaps out of her trance. She reluctantly grabs the chopsticks, a tiny tug playing at the corner of her lips, “It’s not as appetizing when you’re paying.”

Chaeryeong makes a noise of disapproval, “That’s a myth.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not the one paying,” Jisu sticks out her tongue.

“You talk too much.” 

Again, Chaeryeong startles her by picking up a roll from the serving plate and placing it down on her bowl. She puts down her own chopsticks and crosses her arms on the table, eyes kindly fixed on the brunette, “Eat up.”

It becomes harder to piece Chaeryeong at this point. Everything she has heard and seen doesn’t fit the puzzle anymore. Although granted, Jisu can't just summarize a day spent with Chaeryeong to prove her hypothesis. However, Jisu doesn’t really need to squint to see how earnest she is. It's a minor gesture that shouldn't really matter, but Jisu thinks it says a lot about Chaeryeong's true colors.

“You’re staring,” Chaeryeong notes, upper lip twitching. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Jisu brushes off, eyes shifting downwards to the food on her plate, a slow smile flirting to life. “You just surprised me.”

The next day, Chaeryeong comes to the diner, alone. 

Jisu is serving Yuna scrambled eggs and toasts when Chaeryeong approaches their booth, one hand playing with the lid of her lighter.

“Hey, are you free after this?”

Jisu is pretty sure Yuna's jaw has dropped to the table. She's not in a much different shape either.

"I have plans...?" Jisu squeaks out. She can feel Yuna's full-on glare drilling through her temple, demanding an explanation. 

Chaeryeong smiles, "Can I tag along?”

Then she raises an eyebrow like she's waiting for Jisu to do something. Jisu can't figure out what.

“Earth to Jisu?” She waves.

"Oh.." Jisu mumbles before snapping into reality. "O-Oh! I mean, it’s sort of a.. me-time thing?"

"That’s not what you said yesterday.”

Oh, this is what she's playing. She can't tell whether she wants to scream under Yuna's rapt gaze or at whatever stunt Chaeryeong is pulling at the moment.

Jisu sees the teasing grin on Chaeryeong's face and has the sudden urge to whack it off her face. She doesn't unfortunately. Her manager could be watching and she can't risk getting fired because she abused a customer.

"Okay. Fine."

"Awesome, I’ll be back at twelve,” Chaeryeong grins wide and satisfied.

And she leaves. Just like that. Jisu blinks at the door, speechless.

Before she can react to anything, Yuna handles a deadly grip on her arm, "What the fuck happened to her being, may I quote your statement a few days ago, no funny business?"

Jisu groans inwardly. She feels like she has a lot of explaining to do. Not really, but Yuna's running her mouth profusely as if Jisu has an idea of what just happened.

(Tips: she doesn’t).

“You should’ve said you were going reading,” Chaeryeong lets out a whine for the nth time.

Jisu smiles, tasting sweet victory as she flicks to another page, back resting against the shelf.

She had been planning to spend the afternoon in her comfort space — the local library with tiny desks, yellowed pages, the antique smell of wood pieces and untouched books tucked in an unreachable height (ones she’s spent a lot of time organizing on a stool). 

The floor is molded out of natural stone and the ceiling is roof windows, allowing the balmy sun to stream rightfully through. There are plants hanging on top of the shelves, the leaves cradling down the length, some of them even brushing the ground. It’s a tad different from your regular library and that’s what makes it special to Jisu.

“At least tell me you’re not actually willing to finish that in one day.”

Jisu's eyes dart up. She offers a challenging eyebrow, “It’s not even two hundred pages, stop being dramatic.”

“I'm bored and I’m starving," Chaeryeong puts her finger on the top of the book and presses down gently, revealing Jisu's complete features. "Are you even halfway?”

“No, since you won’t quit bothering me,” she says. “Also, no one's stopping you from leaving.”

Chaeryeong gasps with a fake pained expression, "You're telling me I'm unwanted here?"

Jisu pushes Chaeryeong's finger off and channels her focus back into the book, "I never asked. You insisted."

"Wow. Are you sure I’m the asshole between us two?”

"Why did you even ask to come anyway?"

“For starters...'' The redhead trails off while mindlessly withdrawing each book in and out of its place. "Anyone could use some company."

Jisu's eyes stop running through the lined paragraphs. She gnaws on her bottom lip.

"You could be wrong though."

She snaps the book shut and spins around. Not because she wants to, but because she’s scared that Chaeryeong could peer right through.

Jisu stands on her tippy toes, the rhythm of her heartbeat aberrantly fast as she attempts to fit the book into the top shelf. Without warning, she feels warmth pressing into her, a palm on her knuckle. Chaeryeong steps in, front to her back, jamming Jisu between her towering figure and the wooden shelf.

The shock settles in first then the fluttery feeling unfurling in her chest comes second. Chaeryeong is stretching her arm to assist her and she gets the job done with ease. Meanwhile, Jisu is still processing the precipitous closeness, the sudden flush of a body against hers. 

By the time Jisu braces enough courage to turn around, she finds Chaeryeong already gazing down at her, resolute and dark. 

It takes a second to realize that they're closer than they've ever been. Jisu's breath hitches at the proximity. Chaeryeong’s eyes are ebony, her lips are full, and the beauty mark on her chin is a knockout. Jisu thinks she may have lost the feeling in her knees. 

At this range, Chaeryeong’s scent becomes more pungent. Jisu discovers that Chaeryeong's strawberry shampoo and perfume smells stronger than cigarettes. She reminds her of something sweet than bitter.

"I could be, but I'm here, aren't I? It must mean something." 

Jisu doesn't need company but she lets Chaeryeong be here right now. As it sinks in her, it is not something that can be easily shrugged off.

"Or not," Chaeryeong whispers cheekily and lets go of Jisu’s hand as she steps back.

Jisu blinks multiple times. She parts and closes her mouth, dazed. Chaeryeong guffaws, pleased by the other’s reaction.

Out of context, she fishes a box out of the pocket of her jeans, pulls out a stick, then puts the brown butt between her teeth. 

The look on Jisu’s face immediately alters into a glare, “Do you not know your place?”

Chaeryeong spreads her hands in defense, “I’m not going to light it. Relax.”

“It’s still prohibited,” Jisu says through gritted teeth. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

“Calm down, no one’s gonna see—”

Thud.

Both of their heads snap to the end of the aisle and Jisu swallows dryly. A girl, around their age, pink haired and wearing a Libraries Are For Everyone rainbow pin on the left side of her polo shirt.

“Jisu?” The girl squints.

Jisu doesn’t respond. She just makes hand-pleading movements, mouthing, please don’t tell. The pink haired girl’s eyebrows spring up to the roof, gaze slowly transferring to Chaeryeong, who brazenly locks eyes with the latter and sends a flying wink. 

Jisu must’ve underestimated Chaeryeong because she’s apparently capable of magic. The girl’s face instantly turns into the same shade of her hair, appearing to squirm silently before bolting out of the scene as if nothing has happened. 

"You know her?" Chaeryeong asks with a complacent chuckle.

“Gahyeon?” Jisu tilts her head. "We're coworkers. Why?”

"She’s cute. Wait— you work here too?"

Jisu nods, "It doesn't pay much but it's nice.”

“Geez. How many jobs do you have already?”

“Just.. enough.”

Chaeryeong narrows her eyes curiously.

“What?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

Jisu snickers, “You're one to ask. Also, do you think we're the same age or something?”

“You can’t be that old,” Chaeryeong deduces. 

“I can be twenty five and look like this,” Jisu argues.

Chaeryeong makes a low, resonant sound as she clutches onto her stomach, “You’re not twenty five.”

Jisu’s holds up her chin, “You don’t know that.”

“I do know actually,” Chaeryeong says as a matter of fact. “You were in your high school uniform when you first arrived here.”

That was two years ago when a seventeen-year-old Jisu had stepped out of her mother’s red sedan into an unfamiliar neighborhood in an alien town. She had refused to change her clothes throughout the entire trip, reluctant to let go of the solidity of the life she knew. 

Jisu saw Chaeryeong for the first time that day. Her hair had been natural brown and she was watching Jisu, perched from the stairs to her doorstep. Chaeryeong didn’t have a motorcycle back then, she had a scooter parked on her lawn. Jisu thought she was weird, but so was everyone she had seen after driving into town. 

Jisu remembers vividly because moving was a change that left an impression on her. So, did her arrival leave an impression on Chaeryeong too?

“You did,” Chaeryeong says as if she reads minds. The cigarette between her lips tipping upward as a wry smile emerges. “You certainly made quite the entrance. Of course, I wouldn’t forget you.”

Jisu is curious whether it's because she was a fresh face or the fact that she slammed the door harshly without uttering a single word to her mother. Or was it the uniform, not exactly eye-catching, but perhaps strange looking since local schools do not require students to wear uniforms.

"You always look like you've got a lot to say," Chaeryeong tells softly. "Whatever is going in there.." she points a finger at Jisu's head. "I don't know why you keep it in all the time but ask away. I don't necessarily bite."

Jisu is not used to this. She's used to gratifying, leaving things unsaid as it is. Most of her questions evolved into answers over time, some lingered unanswered at the back of her head. And it's fine, Jisu tells herself that it's a part of adulting. She's no longer a kid who asks ceaseless questions and wails until she gets every answer, but Chaeryeong is telling her otherwise.

"Why are you here?" It finally slips out of her mouth. She doesn't know why she ends up asking that.

"Why me out of people?"

"I don't know," Chaeryeong says after a while. "Why wouldn't it be you?"

That is not the reaction Jisu was expecting. Especially if Chaeryeong didn't say it with her teeth flashing and tongue peeking out, light and charming like she's said it to dozens of girls already. It was spoken honestly and meaningfully and it tugs Jisu's untouched heartstrings. 

"Well, I can think of a lot of reasons why," Jisu jokes.

Chaeryeong's lips curve into a smile, eyes tender as they dance all over Jisu's face, "Yeah, well, even if you tell me, I still don't think there's any."

Jisu doesn't think there are fair grounds why she shouldn't hang around Chaeryeong either.

Granted, she goes by living with smoking and underage drinking (and possibly doing vigilante activities like plunging a fist through some snobby boy’s teeth at school after he was caught harassing a freshman as Yuna told). But Jisu’s view on Chaeryeong is quite the reverse.

In little towns like this, Chaeryeong sticks out like a sore thumb. The red hair and the leather gear. The chick-magnet motorcycle, the golden lighter she fumbles with, and the consecutive cigarette that sits on her lips. Chaeryeong is undeniably attractive and despite the aversion, Jisu is pretty sure the whole town knows that too. 

What the town doesn’t know is that Chaeryeong is nice. They don't know that she walks Jisu home (for safety reasons as Chaeryeong claims) and keeps her company in the library, even when she’s reading a bunch of books and Chaeryeong ends up dozing off. They don't know that she drops by Jisu's workplace to give extra bandaids just in case. They don't know that Chaeryeong puts the biggest smile on Jisu's face when she takes her venturing after a long, tiring day. They don’t know that behind the sly leers and rouge exterior, Chaeryeong smiles for Jisu, soft and resounding, rattling through the brunette's heart.

There’s more to Chaeryeong than she initially thought. Chaeryeong is filled with layers of stories, unsaid words, and unrevealed kindness. They’re not exactly hidden, people just never try to see nor spare the time to pay attention. Jisu learns that she's willing to get to know Chaeryeong. 

Maybe that's why it has to be her. No one else bothers to care but not Jisu.

Some nights when life takes it up a notch and her walls cave in and she sits on the pavement feeling cold, empty, and forsaken, Chaeryeong makes sure she's not alone. As much as Jisu tries not to think in that direction, she can't argue that Chaeryeong cares for her as well.

It becomes a routine. Seeing Chaeryeong, running to her whenever the world is turning against her. 

And Chaeryeong is always there, with her cunning smile and sugar-coated insults, present and quick to save Jisu from falling apart. 

“You wanna get ice cream?” Chaeryeong proposes once she catches Jisu sprawled on the sidewalk of her house. “I’ll buy this time.”

The knot of her ponytail is loose, hairs are falling out on the side of her face, and her lips are pulled downward. She’s in her work clothes, the fabric wrinkled and smudged along the edges. 

Every time she sees Jisu, it’s either that or in a stylish sundress. And though she admires her when she’s dressed comfortably in her skin, Chaeryeong doesn’t see her any differently.

“I want to disappear,” Jisu says instead, shoulders slumping. 

“Too bad,” Chaeryeong chuckles and settles beside Jisu, elbows on her knees. “This is no Hogwarts, I can’t bibbidi-bobbidi-boo you.”

It successfully triggers a laugh although small and Jisu ends up landing a light slap on her arm, “You jerk, that’s two different movies.”

“What can I say, I’m not a cinephile,” Chaeryeong expresses aloofness with a lift of both shoulders.

Jisu huffs, “It’s just basic knowledge.”

Chaeryeong quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t reciprocate the retort, knowing it probably isn’t the best time to run her snarky mouth. Her gaze, on the other hand, goes curious as an owl and just as thorough, analytical. Jisu’s eyes are trained between her legs and she looks like she’s going to say something, but all she does is pick on the hem of her clothes.

Chaeryeong doesn’t try to lure out answers. She tries to read, to figure out the right next step, and so she asks, “How far are you willing to go today?”

Jisu pauses. She gives Chaeryeong a sidelong glance, “Why? You’re gonna take me somewhere?”

“I know a place,” she nods. “Not many people know about it.”

“Is it an abandoned building?” 

“What do you take me as?”

The smile that laced Jisu’s face is sincere, “Dunno. You’re full of surprises Lee Chaeryeong.”

The transparency in the reply Jisu throws casts a spell on Chaeryeong to mirror the brunette’s expression, “Well then,” she decides. “Let me surprise you once again.”

The sun is low in the sky when they arrive. In the forest, the heat and the weeping wind are mild under the bouquet of foliage above. The light streaks through the boughs and sheds a yellow-white upon the forest floor. It’s all driftwood and pine needles crunching beneath their feet until it was the sounds of moving water. 

Chaeryeong leads her to the open, a broad cut of peppermint-green and valley checkerbloom, a land of virescent beauty —  a meadow that Jisu has never learned about its existence up to now. Coursing through the center is a stream, as dreamy and crystal as she’s seen in documentaries. Grasses lap at the waters as if it is the land that kisses up to the river, creating a view that breathes.

Jisu stammers on where she stands, warmth blooming across her skin, grasshoppers chirring in her ears. Chaeryeong is already by the kindly flowing waters with her hands comfortable on her hips and head tilted to the sun. She looks radiant like this. It makes Jisu stop wondering why she’s drawn to her in the first place.

The town’s hostility towards Chaeryeong seems plausible now. In moments like this, Chaeryeong looks a lot larger than life. It hits a nerve that Chaeryeong is beyond the town that lives in tiny circles and tapering safety. She’s born to break bubbles — untamed and free — and it scares people. Chaeryeong doesn’t fit in this small town with even smaller minded people, she’s meant for more and that obtrudes her from others.  

And Jisu is drawn to her again, legs lunging towards her as if it’s nature calling. When she’s closer and Chaeryeong turns to her and her smile flourishes to life, Jisu discovers the feeling of being faint on her feet.

“Did I surprise you?”

“No,” Jisu finds herself saying. “You swooned me.”

Satisfaction lies flat on the redhead’s features, she dips her head slightly, “Well, I am indeed a women’s pleaser.”

“I guess you’re not that bad,” says Jisu while rolling her eyes good-naturedly. 

She steps forward and crouches, the reflective turquoise and shimmering blue enticing her. Jisu dips her fingers. The water seeps in between, swirling, hinting the coldness that the stream holds. 

“How did you find this place?” Jisu tosses a glance over her shoulder. She finds Chaeryeong sprawled on the grass, palms flat against the surface, and vision steady ahead. 

“I just did,” Chaeryeong shrugs. “This town is too small to not try and explore each nook.”

“Do you always do that?” Jisu asks in wonder.

“Do what?”

“Wander around, exploring and such.” 

Chaeryeong creates a hum of confirmation, her eyes fixed on Jisu with a glint of coltishness, “Besides, nothing can hurt you in this town.”

Jisu scoffs and claws her hand out of the stream. She moves backward until her feet are lined with Chaeryeong’s and flops down with a thud. 

“I beg to differ,” she grumbles and pulls her knees to her chest.

Chaeryeong shoots her a frown. There’s more than enough space between them, somehow Chaeryeong’s warmth radiates the same as it did when their shoulders touched. 

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jisu shakes it off. She does know what the other implied, she’s just confronting toned-down jealousy, envious that Chaeryeong gets to see this town from that point of view while Jisu is... Jisu. Rooted in desperate straits.

“Shit, I think I just made the mood go downhill,” Chaeryeong cringes. 

Maybe she did, but the thin panic sitting on the skin between her eyebrows is enough to curl the edge of Jisu’s lips. 

“Right, ‘cause I was aiming to make you feel bad,” Jisu jests.

Chaeryeong holds her hand to her chest in mock offense, “You’re horrible.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“Please,” Chaeryeong puffs out a breath. “I practically took you to my safe haven. That’s like, the nicest thing I could do to someone.”

“All that to make me feel better?” Jisu teases. She’s testing the waters.

She sees the flashing change in Chaeryeong’s expression and giggles, giddiness building in her core. The redhead clears her throat and averts her gaze elsewhere, “Maybe.”

“Is it working…?” Chaeryeong then questions, peeking slowly and hesitantly at Jisu. “Are you feeling better?”

The wind hums a soft tune and the river is a ripple of golden green, a wider smile expands on Jisu’s lips, doting her face with lightness. She inhales and smells the humidity, the pollen rich smell of flowers in the air. Vestiges of bone keeling shifts, finding an envelope of pity money from her father in the mailbox, and coming home to her mother’s flaring cigarettes are long gone in the beauty of the meadow. 

Jisu nods, “Like fresh air.”

It doesn’t quite make sense, but truly, it best describes what she’s feeling.

Chaeryeong stares for some time. Something indescribable in her eyes, something dainty compared to the shimmering waves of endless grass. And Jisu is too preoccupied to notice. So, Chaeryeong heaves out a contented sigh and lies onto the grass, “My duty is fulfilled then.”

A detail sticks out from the corner of Jisu's eye as Chaeryeong crosses her arms behind her head, her shirt riding up. Jisu thinks she sees a glimpse of ink on the exposed skin. It’s ridiculous but she feels like losing her breath.

“What are you doing?” Chaeryeong’s voice comes.

Her eyes widen, immediately looking away to subtly hide her bright pink face, “What do you m- mean?”

Got caught and stuttered. Real smooth Jisu.

“Don’t just sit there, the sky is pretty from here.”

Oh. 

She doesn’t say anything to reply. She just sinks back into the grass and flickers her eyes up to the clouds of white and skies of jewel blue. 

Chaeryeong is right, it’s pretty.

“Do you ever wanna leave?”

Chaeryeong lifts her neck for a moment to look over Jisu’s direction, “You’re thinking of applying for college again?”

Jisu releases a breath, she recalls telling Chaeryeong about not passing and deciding to drop it, “I want to, don’t know if I can though,” she speaks, hopeless and dejected. “If things were better it would be the very first thing that I do. What about you?”

She hears Chaeryeong chuckles, the clinking sounds of metal chipping in, “Jisu, I don’t even attend class.”

“I know, but aren’t you sick of this town?” 

Birds glide across the vast blue, euphoniously tweeting. Jisu misses the times when they were airplanes, soaring high from the window of her bedroom.

“I am,” replies Chaeryeong. “But I have a place I belong to here.”

There’s an unspoken conflict underlying beneath her statement and Jisu finds herself itching to voice her thoughts. I think you belong everywhere. 

“You have great things ahead of you,” she says instead. 

“Is this your way of flirting?” Chaeryeong chaffs and Jisu laughs, unweighted and loose.

“I’m feeding you some truth.”

When Chaeryeong shifts her weight to the side, Jisu makes sure to glance her way, their eyes aligning. The sky is blue, the grass is evergreen, Chaeryeong’s irises are amber — Jisu makes note of that. It slips past her that the redhead has popped a cigarette between her lips. The golden lighter in her grip unused in any case around her.

Jisu can’t say she hasn’t noticed that.

“Tell me, what were you planning to take?” Chaeryeong bends her mouth into a curious smile.

“Journalism,” she mimics the other’s expression. “I’ve always wanted to write for big magazines.”

“Suits you. I already know you’ll be good at it,” Chaeryeong says, assuringly enough. “Before you ask what’s mine, I don’t know, I haven’t thought of it yet.”

Jisu wants to scold Chaeryeong. However, she ends up giggling. Correct her if she’s wrong but graduation is in less than six months. Jisu had been scatterbrained when she was in Chaeryeong’s place, frenzied to the end of the world. Chaeryeong is the opposite, but Jisu doesn’t worry for her.

“I think you’ll be great at whatever you do.” 

Somehow, she believes in her own words.

“You too,” Chaeryeong speaks solemnly. “You’re a hard worker, you know that? Someone like you eventually finds their way to the top.”

Jisu offers a tiny, conscious smile. And she wants to believe Chaeryeong.

“Jisu,” Chaeryeong utters her name the most meaningful she ever has. Jisu doesn’t see anything else but her. “I know you don’t see it but you shine, through and through. No one is as quite as bright as you.”

It’s been so long since Jisu has welcomed hopes and possibilities. It's the middle of her frenzied life, she’s grateful Chaeryeong manages to crack her door open even though it's extremely small that stardust can barely slip through. 

Jisu realizes amongst the words she scrambles for whenever Chaeryeong shows her good nature, the ones that she’s aching to say is thank you. 

“Thank you for today.”

Jisu tells Chaeryeong once they stand on the brunette’s tiny porch. The sun has set and the air has gone cold. They’re calling it a day.

“Really,” she says again, eyes downcast and fingers fumbling idly. “Like many other times, you didn’t have to. But you did, and it means a lot.”

“Hey,” Chaeryeong calls softly and as effortless as that Jisu looks up, meeting the other’s delicate smile and benign gaze under the bleary light bulb. “Don’t worry, I enjoyed it.”

“You enjoyed seeing mopy, sulky Jisu?” 

A small laugh elicits out of Chaeryeong’s mouth, slender fingers dancing their way to tuck a strand of light brown behind Jisu’s ear. Jisu feels heat creeping under her skin.

“Sorry, there was something on your hair,” Chaeryeong murmurs gibberish.

She clasps her hand and tries to regain her cool, “Um, I enjoyed seeing happy Jisu actually, you’re always beautiful when you smile.”

The warmth that blooms in her chest is impeccable. Jisu wants to dissipate under Chaeryeong’s heedful attention. 

“Thanks...” Jisu murmurs bashfully then clears her throat.

The redhead’s upper lip curls in adoration.

“Stop smiling, you goof. Go home already.”

“I live less than five meters from you, silly.”

“I know, it’s still freezing out here.”

“I’ll go after you go.” 

Jisu snorts, “I didn’t know you’re a romantic.”

Chaeryeong makes a circular movement with her eyes.

Jisu twists the knob and swings the door open, glancing at her back before entering the house, pulse quickening like a teenager, “Goodnight Chaeryeong.”

Chaeryeong is electric like a wild unreachable fantasy. But standing on Jisu’s porch like this, Chaeryeong resembles a pair of welcoming arms — prepared to whisk her away when her world’s deteriorating and deliver her back home once it recollects in one piece. 

Chaeryeong’s smile stretches farther, blinding and reaching to the corners of Jisu’s fragile heart even in the dark, “Goodnight Jisu.” 

When Jisu closes the door behind her back and heaves out a breath, she already knows the image will be the reason she spaces out during working hours tomorrow.

The record store Jisu works in feels more like home than home actually does. It’s narrow, dimly lit with a vintage touch, and it smells like lemongrass. Jisu organizes the shelves on the weekends, flicks carefully through the stacks, smooths the edges, and makes sure every record belongs to its section. 

She mops the floor too, in between aisles and behind the counter. She likes keeping the place neat and dustless, warm and cozy to the point of lighting aromatic candles. That was Bora’s idea — the owner — Jisu’s proposal was to be responsible for the store’s music choice as soon as she saw the record player stored inside the backroom’s closet. Bora didn’t even give it a long thought, the woman just wrinkled her nose fondly at her hopeful employee (“All yours, Jisu.”). 

The record store may have been her first job, but Bora will for sure always be her favorite boss.

Another thing that Jisu likes about the store that she works in is that it’s peaceful. Not many people coming in and out of the door and ones that stop by are either mindless wanderers or bored souls. Most of the time it’s just Jisu, Marvin Gaye, the yellow sunlight that filtrates through the window, and this week’s series of books. It’s like a glass of water, tranquil, unchanging. A dip of peace in her mind. A needed break that's forgotten on most days. 

Today Stubborn Kind of Fellow plays throughout the store, surrounding Jisu in an atmosphere she’s been craving all week. That is until the bell jingles, announcing someone’s arrival. Jisu closes her book and looks up with a sweet smile (a trained one that doesn’t show the peeved look in her twitched eyes for being interrupted at the possible climax of the plot).

“Welcome!” She announces, voice trained too. If there’s a thing about Jisu it’s the ability to polish herself into anything when necessary. 

The faux bearing only lasts a minute for the sly smile that greets her puts her in a daze. But Jisu is good enough of an actress to twine her lips into a scowl, “If you’re here to annoy me, don’t. Feel free to do it after my shift.”

A chuckle elicits out of Chaeryeong's mouth as she takes a turn to navigate the aisle, deliberately slow, fingering through the records. Jisu tries not to gawk at the way Chaeryeong’s red hair cascades down on one shoulder, leaving the other side of her face sharpened by the gleaming sun. 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Chaeryeong says as she pulls a Billy Joel record from its slot, examining it then puts it back down softly. “I’m here to keep your job going. You look a little bored there.”

“I’m not bored,” Jisu argues. “I’m in the middle of something.”

Chaeryeong absentmindedly nods and wastes more time going through the 70’s pop section before striding over to the counter where Jisu stands with crossed arms and stern eyes. Jisu has a feeling Chaeryeong knows it doesn’t mean she’s unwelcomed. The redhead leans over the desk and flashes her most charming smile, a tiny part of her lip folded beneath her teeth. 

Jisu thinks it’s just unfair honestly, no one should be that attractive. 

“I’m sorry for interrupting beautiful, I was wondering if you’d recommend a few pieces to me?” Chaeryeong asks, lifting an eyebrow.

Jisu is almost bothered by how the pet name rolled over the redhead’s tongue so easily, “Are you even going to buy?”

“No,” Chaeryeong shrugs, answering truthfully. “I just wanted to know the stuff you listen to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know Jisu, I’m very curious about you.”

Eye contact, with just a pair of the prettiest eyes. Something snaps within Jisu. The nonchalant and fretful demeanor disappears into thin air because right now, she can’t help but fidget under the desk under the redhead’s focused gaze. Chaeryeong really knows how to color her cheeks, she decides. 

“Fine," she relents, quickly leaving the counter and brushing past Chaeryeong’s back.

Chaeryeong grins, wide and bright, as she follows Jisu’s steps to the aisle by the window. 

“What do you like?”

“Huh?”

“Who do you listen to?” Jisu asks again. “I can’t possibly try and guess my luck, no?”

“Sounds fun. Would you?”

“Nope, you’d have to answer.”

“Second gen girl groups,” Chaeryeong answers with a smile, one that makes Jisu turn in her heels and crook her eyebrows. 

“Hey, I’m serious,” the redhead bats her curled lashes. 

Jisu clearly doesn’t take it that way. Speaking from experience, what comes out of Chaeryeong’s mouth either heightens her temper or flusters her (she’ll never admit this aloud).                                                                                                                                                 

“Right, sorry don’t have them here, other than that?” Jisu plays along.

Chaeryeong hums loudly, musing as she eyes the records on display, “I like music that reminds me of losing canine teeth and dirty overalls. My childhood.”

Jisu snorts, “You make it sound like you’re old.”

“I’ll hit the two decade mark in two years,” Chaeryeong pouts. “I’m ancient, baby.”

Baby. That's new. Jisu reprimands herself to not let it get inside her head.

Chaeryeong is insufferable — so painfully alluring and destructive, she makes Jisu want to fly herself out the window sometimes. And it’s not like Jisu hasn’t grown accustomed to her daily dose of flirting, she has, but it scares her that growing accustomed means she’s getting fonder of the girl that smells like the thing she despises. 

“You’re younger than me.”

“We came from the same century, if anything that makes us both old,” is Chaeryeong’s witty reply.

“Conversing with you gives me a headache,” Jisu groans as she shuffles the records, searching. 

She feels Chaeryeong’s stare on her as she does. She doesn’t have to look to know that there’s a smile carved on the redhead’s mouth, and she can’t tell whether it’s attentive or teasing.

“A lot of 2000s pop rock, pop punk, R&B is nice too,” Chaeryeong finally says, traveling closer until their shoulders touch. “Nothing too loud, just the right amount to kick my adrenaline.”

The scent of Chaeryeong waft into Jisu’s nose, sweet perfume, strawberry shampoo, and burnt cigarettes altogether. A fusion that Jisu comes to remember well.

“And your pick is?”

Jisu taps on the stacks for a short while then pulls a record out of the slot, the cover based on a shade of rusty white topped with a butterfly design, “Paramore, that’s what came to mind when you said 2000s pop rock.”

Chaeryeong’s smile broadens, her eyes crinkling, igniting in the way she eyes the vinyl and takes it from Jisu’s grasp. Jisu nearly chuckles in disbelief because Chaeryeong genuinely looks like some luck just struck her. 

“What’s with that look on your face?”

“What look?”

“You’re smiling big,” Jisu announces with a tinge of amusement. “It’s scaring me.”

Chaeryeong turns to Jisu and regards her with guileless delight, an expression rarely brought into daylight, strange to Jisu’s sight but fosters incredible warmth. Chaeryeong is staring straight into her soul, honest and adoring and it impels Jisu from looking away. It makes Jisu expect, curious and wanting to know what Chaeryeong has to say.

“I think I just scored, big time.”

Jisu makes a puzzled noise, but Chaeryeong quickly cuts through, “Do you wanna come to rehearsals?”

“Huh?” Jisu blinks, once or twice. 

It’s the first time she sees it. A prickle of nervousness flashing in Chaeryeong’s confident guise. 

“I’m in this band, we perform gigs downtown. I think you’ll like the songs we play,” Chaeryeong utters clearly despite her nerves. “There’s a show this Saturday and tomorrow’s the rehearsal, do you want to come?”

Jisu is rendered speechless. The Lee Chaeryeong is asking her out, wait, no — asked her if she wanted to see her band perform. It is sudden and out of the blue, a question Jisu doesn’t think would be proposed to her before she even rides the redhead’s motorcycle. 

She stares back at hopeful eyes and her heartbeat builds up to a speedy thumping.

“You know, I’m just asking, I won’t force you if it’s not your cup of tea.”

Chaeryeong’s right, it’s not her cup of tea. Going downtown, to dark and noisy alleys, to untrodden territory, just to watch someone whom she has trouble defining their relationship — neighbors, or friends, or perhaps more  — perform in a band she’s never heard of. It isn’t like her.

Jisu is all about tiny desks and quiet atmospheres, and Chaeryeong enjoys them too, she has learned. But Chaeryeong has that thrilling side to her, the carefree and rebellious character that comes naturally with her. Jisu knows it’s a good thing because Chaeryeong is so different from what she’s used to and it’s exhilarating to be with her. 

Chaeryeong is the one thing that pokes her bubble. She has her own way around Jisu, to spark emotions that seldom surface, to trigger curiosity. Chaeryeong used to seem enigmatic and unreachable, but she turns out to be simpler than Jisu had originally thought. There’s comfort in that, it forms a notion that every decision made with Chaeryeong is harmless. 

“Okay,” Jisu answers after a long silence. 

“Okay?” Chaeryeong’s whole face lights up. 

“Okay,” Jisu repeats coyly. “But on one condition.”

Chaeryeong raises an eyebrow, but shrugs her shoulders, “And that is?”

Jisu takes Chaeryeong’s wrist and leads her over to the record player, which sat on a wooden table, wiped clean and shiny to its edges. Jisu uses the cueing lever to lift the needle and stop the platter. She lets go of the other’s wrist then flips the vinyl with both hands, carefully sleeving it back. Chaeryeong stares at the red album art as Jisu hands it over to her.

“That Stubborn Kinda’ Fellow?” The title rolls slowly, unfamiliar on Chaeryeong’s tongue. “I’m guessing Sexual Healing isn’t included in the tracklist of this album.”

Jisu chuckles, “You’re too modest Lee Chaeryeong, take a deeper stroll to the 60s, it’s just the right kick to adrenaline.”

Chaeryeong raises an interested brow at her, “Is this your way of punishing me for not listening to music before our era?”

Jisu lets out an incredulous laugh, “I thought you wanted to know the stuff I like, no?”

“I do.”

“Great, I’ll come to your rehearsal if you promise you’ll give it a listen.” Jisu challenges, lips tugging upwards into a taunting smirk.

“Promise huh...” Chaeryeong drags with a grin. “I can do that.”

“I’ll text you when I’m done.”

“You don’t even have my number.”

“Oh, well, can I have it now?”

“Tempting, but maybe later when you’re not interfering with my job.”

“Whatever, we’re neighbors, I’ll figure something out.”

“Good.”

Chaeryeong leaves the record shop with determination and a copy of Jisu’s favorite Marvin Gaye album while Jisu doesn’t move two steps from where she stands, watching Chaeryeong’s back with a smile that hurts her cheeks. 

Chaeryeong did end up listening to That Stubborn Kinda’ Fellow. She showed up on Jisu’s door the next morning, proud and mighty in her leather jacket as she confessed that she had the album on loop the other night. 

Jisu gaped at the girl on her doorstep and her first instinct was to hit the redhead’s forearm (“Ow! What the hell was that for?” “Don’t you have school to attend?” “I do, but I also have to get this pretty girl to attend my band rehearsal in the evening.”). 

It’s groundbreaking, that stupid flirty comment. It made heat crawl from her neck to the apple of her cheeks and Jisu wasn’t spared time to recollect herself because Chaeryeong had invaded her territory to tower her, lips fully stretched to the corners, annoying and bright.

So when Chaeryeong asked (“Can I look forward to you keeping your promise?”), all that was left in Jisu handed over her number to distract the redhead then ushered her to school. Jisu got to send her off, it felt different than seeing Chaeryeong leave in her motorcycle from her window. It was new and somewhat a nice change.

chaeryeong

it’s nice to have your contact saved pretty neighbor

rehearsal is at 5 btw

i'll give the details later

09:22 AM

chaeryeong 

can u make it?

09:27 AM

jisu

yeah

my shift ends around 4

09:30 AM

chaeryeong 

cool

do u want me to pick you up?

09:33 AM

jisu

nice try

i’m good with taking take the bus though

also pay attention !!

09:40 AM

chaeryeong

ooh ur scolding me

that’s hot

09:41 AM

chaeryeong

and now ur ignoring me

09:52 AM

jisu

shut up

09:52 AM

chaeryeong 

ur cute

i’m looking forward to seeing you later

10:20 AM

jisu

better give me a whole ass performance

10:21 AM

chaeryeong 

will do baby

10:24 AM

Jisu has never ridden the bus downtown, but she dares to, for Chaeryeong. For the first time, her nose fails to detect the earthy scent as soon as she steps off the bus. She doesn’t smell soil and oakmoss, doesn’t smell thunderstorms and grass. What she smells is weathered sidewalks, battered by mucky soles, smoke, fusty and evocative — a recollection of the life she left back in the city.

Jisu sees a lot of brick walls, streetlights, and barrels. She feels the air growing pungent the more turns she takes, feels the strange looks on her too. When enough venturing takes her to the address Chaeryeong sent, Jisu’s mouth part a little. Pubs are the main source of life in this part of town, she comes to conclusion.

Jisu enters at exactly five. She hears her heart in her ears as she pushes through the door. Seeing Chaeryeong at a pub downtown is unlike seeing her in her driveway. She loses her identity, wears a sleeveless graphic tee, a laugh directed at her bandmate, and a stratocaster strapped on her shoulder. The only similar look is the unlit cigarette pulled in between her teeth.

“Do you want me to light it up?” The girl behind the keys offers. 

“Sure,” Chaeryeong nods, seeming distracted.

Jisu grimaces, she feels like she’s trespassing but Chaeryeong has already spotted her and held up her palm to the keyboardist. 

“Hey,” Chaeryeong says, looking radiant as she walks over to Jisu. “You made it.”

Jisu can’t help the easy smile that punctures out, “Yeah, I don’t tend to break promises.”

It’s the twist of her lips that strikes Jisu how beautiful Chaeryeong looks under the pub’s amber glow. Though much to her chagrin, it falters as Chaeryeong sweeps her eyes over her appearance, unchanged in her spotted diner attire. 

“You got here safely?” Chaeryeong questions, the tip of her eyebrows meeting in worry.

“In one piece,” Jisu nods undoubtedly. “Why? Is there a reason I couldn’t have?”

Chaeryeong shakes her head sideways although her face gives every indication of being perturbed, “No, it’s just...”

Jisu arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Chaeryeong places a brief hand on her arm, “Wait here.”

Jisu didn’t have a say as the redhead fled across the room. Not a beat passes when Chaeryeong returns with the leather jacket she wore earlier this morning in her hand. Chaeryeong doesn’t tell why, she just puts it over Jisu’s shoulders, the crease on the skin between her eyebrows remains as she smoothes the pads. 

Just like that Chaeryeong’s identity is transferred to Jisu.

“People will stare,” Chaeryeong tells lowly. “Not in a way that will flatter you. The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Wow, okay,” Jisu lets out a breath. She doesn’t expect things to be so different by several kilometers, doesn’t expect Chaeryeong to remember her discomfort under the pressure of attention either. “Thanks then.”

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly, a guilty smile tugging her lips. “I should’ve told you how things roll here.”

“It’s okay,” she reassures, warmth spreading in her cheeks. “It shouldn’t matter, I’m here for you anyway.”

Chaeryeong stares at her briefly. A bit awestruck, partly dazed. Jisu doesn’t know why the words slipped on her tongue so easily. Maybe because it’s Chaeryeong, everything flows with sincerity when it comes to her. 

“Thank you,” whispers Chaeryeong, fingers coming to tangle with Jisu’s. Jisu doesn’t remember the last time a simple contact made her feel impossibly high. “Come, I’ll introduce you to the girls.”

Jisu meets all of them. There’s Siyeon, in charge of the band’s ceiling-high notes and lead guitar, and there’s Soojin on the sleek bass, Jisu thinks their aura drips sex appeal. She meets Ryujin (the only familiar face), the outlines of her sharp and strong, completely fit as a drummer, and Yeji, the orange haired keyboardist who grins like a goon at their intertwined hands. 

Jisu learns that they’re the coolest and most down to earth people in town. Chaeryeong’s circle of friends is unlike what the tittle-tattle make out to be, they’re warm and welcoming and well, galling but Jisu wouldn’t expect any less from them. Not when Chaeryeong’s eyes haven’t known a place other than her face the whole time they’re performing. 

In time, fingers and voices come together, the music happens; the song inside the music awakens. And Chaeryeong was right, she does like the songs they’re playing. From thrilling rock to slow, emotional, teen angst pop, the band arranges songs from various genres and makes them their own. 

Jisu feels an unexpected buzz, she’s enjoying the private show more than she imagined. Even when Siyeon laughs into the mic in the interval between songs and Yeji messes up the keys in her solo, Chaeryeong keeps strumming, ripping riffs with a smile etched to her face, gaze steady as if it were room for two.

For a moment, it seems like the only thing that matters.

“Let’s take five,” Ryujin announces, already putting down her sticks and begin cracking her knuckles. 

“I say ten,” Yeji butts in, raising her hand to make her voice apparent. 

“Yeji, say if you starve to make out with Ryujin in the bathroom stall,” Siyeon barks laughter that causes Yeji to fume, ironically. Ryujin only scrunches her nose and rolls her eyes.

“Would you rather we suck faces in front of you?”

“Gross.”

“Absolutely not.”

Yeji sticks her tongue out. Soojin shakes her head, chuckling. She loosens her grip around the bass too and settles it on the amp, “Alright, alright, we’ll take ten, but we have to work on the last song after this.”

As the band breaks into light discussions, Chaeryeong has already put down her guitar and is currently heading towards Jisu, who looks a little clueless from where she stands yet still beams with anticipation. Chaeryeong adores how Jisu’s facial muscles can structure moons when her lips curl — it’s pretty, Jisu’s pretty. 

“Here comes the show stealer,” Jisu sing-songs once Chaeryeong comes within her reach. She makes an exaggerated bow which Jisu unfailingly giggles at. 

“Did I do well?” She asks, grinning ear to ear. 

“Oh, you were great,” Jisu cuts to the chase, doesn’t offer any retort. Something about that makes her heart crawl to her throat. “All of you were. And you were right too, I liked all the songs. I liked it a lot.”

Chaeryeong lets out a relieved sigh, Jisu’s words truly have a way of easing the roaring waves in her chest, “Thank goodness, felt like a cat on hot bricks, didn’t know if you could see it though.”

“Barely,” Jisu says, her tone implies more than enough affirmation. “You were that good.”

“Really? I—”

“Ryeong, we’re going out for a smoke, you coming?” Ryujin’s voice calls for her. 

Chaeryeong glances over her shoulder and sees the drummer leaning against the exit. She warily rotates back to the girl in front of her, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

The feeling has been lurking there, like cold sweat dripping down her back. Her fingers itch to reach for the box in her back pocket, her tongue craves the menthol-laced tobacco, her lungs ache for the nicotine buzz. But here stands Jisu before her eyes and Chaeryeong hopelessly wants to brush the strand that’s falling on the corner of her mouth. She can’t do that after her fingertips burn from the cigarettes. 

“It’s okay, go ahead,” Jisu must’ve foreseen the conflict in her. Her smile is tighter, but Chaeryeong knows Jisu wouldn’t twine her arm around hers and ask her to stay.

“I don’t need to—”

“It’s not about me,” Jisu presses.

“You’ll be left alone though,” Chaeryeong mutters, the thought doesn’t sit right with her. 

“I’m not,” Jisu laughs dryly. “There’s the bartender, I can go talk to him if I get too bored.”

Chaeryeong frowns, now she’s considering to be the one that takes Jisu’s arm, “No, that’s awful, he’ll just flirt you.”

“So? What would you do if you were in his shoes?”

Chaeryeong bites her tongue.

“All I’m saying is I’m fine,” Jisu enunciates, slow and soft. “I’m perfectly capable of keeping myself entertained if that’s your worry. Go do your thing, I’ll wait.”

Chaeryeong takes a good look at Jisu’s expression, twitching her eyebrows, “Are you sure?”

And there goes Ryujin’s fake coughs. She is so going to squabble her head once they’re outside. 

Jisu bobs her head, “I won’t go anywhere.”

Chaeryeong bites the insides of her cheeks, ribs narrow and heart somewhat heavy as she walks through the pub’s exit with Ryujin closing the door behind her. 

The end of Chaeryeong’s cigarette ignites a bright red as she traps it between her lips, inhaling long and slow. Wisps of white smoke push through her lips, dancing, twirling, and evaporating into thin air as she lets go. Her back feels cold against the brick wall though the laughter of her band members warm in contrast despite sounding muffled in her ears.

For some reason, she feels jittery inside out, like an unsettling feeling has grown in her chest, and Chaeryeong, for the love of God, can’t stop bouncing on her knees. 

The brown tip balances on her fingers and she fixes her gaze at the faint trail of smoke at the edge. It used to hold so much power over her state of mind, give so much comfort. But as of right now, Chaeryeong’s mind is running a mile a minute and Jisu is at every finish line wherever she runs to. 

Chaeryeong takes another breath from the cigarette in hopes to fog the thought. It’s annoying how her conscience acts up when Jisu’s around lately, like the habit she’s picked on for years suddenly strikes as a crime. 

One of her fingers taps at the end of the cigarette, dispelling flakes of ash onto the ground. It doesn’t help. Chaeryeong shouldn’t even try, getting Jisu out of her head is no five-minute task.

Thus, she ends up going over the choice she made not even three minutes ago, reeling over should I’s and should I not’s. She spaces out, stares blank, and grinds her teeth. The more she spends time in an inner discord, the more her anxiousness fluctuates. 

The third drag of her first cigarette and the bitterness rises, already tasting too tart on her tongue. Chaeryeong drops it to the ground and steps on it with the heel of her Chucks. 

“Hey, I’m going back,” she announces briefly, not sparing a glance at the others as she pushes through the door. 

She heads to the washroom first, soaping her hands thoroughly then splashes water onto her face. When she hurries out, she finds Jisu in one of the booths, knuckles supporting her cheek as scrolls through her phone. A sense of calmness rushes over Chaeryeong at the sight. Seeing Jisu has always felt like this.

It doesn’t take a minute for Jisu to look up and acknowledge her presence. Jisu’s chocolate pools are enlarged, they’re looking at her in bewilderment. Chaeryeong ignores it and strides over, sliding beside the girl like she doesn’t have a pair of eyes burning on her skin. 

“What are you doing?” 

Chaeryeong shrugs and faces Jisu, the strand of hair that stuck to the corner of her mouth isn’t there anymore. She feels like she has missed a chance, a reason to touch Jisu, but realizes she keeps wanting to run her fingers through Jisu’s hair no matter what.

“It hasn’t even been five minutes,” Jisu gives a look that Chaeryeong is not sure she can argue against.

“They’re boring,” Chaeryeong rests the side of her head on the red leather couch. “And are a bunch of losers. You’re cooler.”

Chaeryeong expects, at least, a snark or a slight nudge but Jisu stills, mien unchanged. 

“You don’t need to feel bad,” Jisu mutters, solemn and quiet, gaze sweeping at her hands on her lap. “Pity doesn’t sit well with me, I’m sure you know that.”

Chaeryeong furrows her brow, “I do know and it’s not about that. It just didn’t feel right,” she reveals. “Being there while you’re here.”

There’s silence that comes in between. It fills the gap between their arms.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Chaeryeong says quickly, nearly biting at Jisu’s word. “I can’t smoke for shit while you’re on the other side of the room. It feels wrong, and unfair, and treacherous. I can’t do that to you.”             

Jisu purses her lips. There’s a moment of deliberate hesitation though in the end she quietly asks, “But does this feel right to you?”

Chaeryeong understands what Jisu means, what the brunette fears; that she came back out of guilt and viewed inviting Jisu as a mere responsibility.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, she lets the question settle into her lukewarm. Her mind flashes an image of the girl sitting next to her, her strongest memories painting wonders of Jisu’s form from her point of view. When Chaeryeong opens her eyes, she meets Jisu, looking at her tender and steady, the answer slips off her tongue. 

“Like fresh air.” 

Chaeryeong watches as Jisu's eyes start to soften, her features cushioning around the edges, and it makes her ribcage impossibly tight. She remembers when she had taken Jisu down the river, they had their butts on the grass, Jisu’s knees to her chin, and Chaeryeong’s squinted eyes at the sun. She recalls asking whether Jisu was feeling better.

Chaeryeong remembers that the wind sounded like music that day and she remembers Jisu smiling like a ton of weight had been lifted off her chest. She remembers thinking that out in a field abounding with nature's grace, Jisu's beauty remained appealing and resembling a force field. Chaeryeong didn't take her eyes off her after she answered that same line

Maybe it didn't make sense then, but it makes sense now.

Chaeryeong wants to take her hand, wants to land butterfly kisses all over her knuckles, but decides not to as the smell hasn’t been washed off completely. She considers it and offers an honest smile in exchange, “It feels right like that.”

Chaeryeong must be hallucinating, Jisu’s eyes are glossed with tears. She frowns, it’s getting harder to keep her hands to herself when she terribly wants to caress Jisu’s cheek with utmost comfort. Jisu catches it later on and tilts her head to the ceiling, laughing while dabbing the corners of her eyes with the sleeve of Chaeryeong’s leather jacket. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, God I feel stupid,” Jisu chuckles, obviously disheartened. Chaeryeong doesn’t bring it up yet. “I get so fucking dramatic sometimes, it must be all those lachrymose dystopian novels Gahyeon hooked me on.”

Chaeryeong slightly laughs to entertain, albeit her worry remains, “Was I too moving, or was it something else?”

Jisu shakes her head and laughs a bit more, “Sorry, it’s just I’ve always gone on and on about my hatred towards cigarettes but I’ve never even told you why.”

“I think that’s unfair to you too,” the latter shyly mumbles and lowers her gaze. Glistening eyes clash with concerned ones. 

“There’s no rush,” Chaeryeong tells and means it. 

“There really isn’t any,” Jisu shrugs. “I’m just not used to telling things. Yuna found out on her own and there wasn’t anyone to tell until you.”

Chaeryeong’s ears perk up, she puts all her attentiveness into one focus, into Jisu. She makes sure it’s evident, that she has her heart in the palm of her hands, exposed to Jisu. The latter sighs softly, to Chaeryeong it seems like the weight that’s occupying her chest goes away with it. 

Everything’s a blur when Jisu stretches her arms and envelopes Chaeryeong’s hands into her own, pulling them into her lap and stroking Chaeryeong’s calloused fingers with her thumb. Chaeryeong can’t think of anything else except for the coiling in her stomach. 

“The home I live in doesn’t feel like one, although I’m pretty sure you already have that figured out,” there’s a small curve on her lips as she starts, mindlessly tracing circles on Chaeryeong’s skin at the same time. “My mother wasn’t always a heavy smoker. She didn’t use to smell like coffin nails and several brands of liquor. She was lively and warm and well, she was my mom. And then so much went on, relationships were torn and we had to move. I hated that I couldn’t put the blame on this little town because the damage had already been done way before. I just didn’t have the heart to accept it. So, I blame my mother’s newfound addiction for the loss I’ve suffered, I blame the disturbing reek for the university entrance exams I failed to pass, and I blame the cigarettes for turning my mother into a stranger.”

Jisu’s hair falls down to obscure her face. This time Chaeryeong inches closer to fix it for the other, Jisu flushes and makes no move to eschew. The mood has turned somber, it dawns on her how strongly she sympathizes with Jisu. Where life has sliced through and scarred Jisu’s heart, the same mark begins to make an appearance on Chaeryeong's as well. She feels her.

“But even so, I hope you know it never applies to you,” Jisu tells in a softer tone. There’s a rawness in her voice that Chaeryeong senses as well. “I never really disliked you but if I seemed to at first, well, it's probably because you're an ass.” 

“You don’t need to explain yourself,” comforts Chaeryeong, adding a snort at the end. “I’m sorry love. I wish I had been there.” She adds, her voice sad and thin. 

Jisu shakes her head and musters a bigger smile than she showed before, “Don’t be, hanging out with you brings enlightenment that most of my repugnance towards cigarettes comes from resentment towards my mother. I was angry, I still am, but never at you.”

Chaeryeong nods, a symbol of understanding, acceptance with open arms. The fluorescent string lights above the booth are faded yellow, it colors Jisu’s dry tears and the smoothness of her cheeks. Chaeryeong hasn’t seen her this hollow. Jisu is luminous wherever she goes, always lighting up Chaeryeong’s dark corners. Chaeryeong isn’t as radiant as Jisu, she’s not sure whether she can light Jisu’s dark as she did with hers. 

But even if she truly can’t, she’d stay with Jisu through dire times all the same. 

“Thank you for telling me.” Chaeryeong squeezes onto Jisu's hand tighter.

Jisu lowers her head to rest on Chaeryeong’s shoulder, her breath bleeding warmth on the redhead's neck, “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else, really.”

“That was a thrill,” Siyeon says breathlessly into the mic, her laugh filtering the pub. Soojin smiles from her right, eyes narrowing into crescents and Yeji grins against the water bottle she’s drinking from. “I didn’t think you guys would sing along to most of the songs.”

“Some of you are super young and know the words to The Smiths, and may I add, the good ones, not the songs that have two hundred million streams on Spotify,” Siyeon puts her hands on her waist in disbelief and the crowd laughs.

“Some of them are like, forty, and know the words to good 4 u,” Soojin adds. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I heard someone belted with Siyeon over there,” Ryujin speaks, pointing to one of the booths at the back with her drumstick. The said person waves their hands and the audience breaks into a collective noise of ooh’s and whistles.

“Really, I want to thank you for tuning with us tonight,” Yeji says, gratefulness rich in every drip of her voice. Her teeth are shown and her face shines, both with sweat and adrenaline. “It’s only our second time performing here, but you guys have always been the most fun from the start!”

The crowd cheers and howls, Chaeryeong can’t help the immense stretch of her lips as she adjusts the knobs on her stratocaster’s head, tuning the instrument to half a lower pitch for the next song. Yeji turns to Chaeryeong with a wry smile, “You wanna introduce our next song, show-stealer?”

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes at Yeji’s call, the action clearly fond, and nods, “Thanks Yeji.”

Taking the mic into her hand, she settles her gaze on the audience, “Hey, you guys.”

From the first row, Jisu watches as Siyeon scrunches her nose and Ryujin fakes a gag upon hearing the crowd swoon. Jisu hears a group of fresh teenage girls sigh dreamily beside her, she shakes her head, laughing. It hasn’t come to her that Lee Chaeryeong isn’t just extremely badmouthed, she’s also hugely adorned like a heartthrob rockstar. 

Though Jisu doesn’t really blame them, Chaeryeong looks sinfully sexy tonight. The bold red lipstick, smokey eye makeup, and ripped-sleeve crop tee that flaunts her toned stomach and divine arm muscles. 

Jisu has noticed a thing or two about Chaeryeong’s physic, it’s palpable that she’s lean and strong, but Jisu didn’t think it would play such a huge role in the way her pulse is quickening right now. Jisu sees Chaeryeong slick with sweat, hair pushed back and clothes clinging to her skin and suddenly feels like she had just turned thirteen. 

And annoyingly, Chaeryeong is so overly sensitive that she meets Jisu in the eye and sends a flying wink from the stage. Now Jisu is not any different than the people who blush at every little thing Chaeryeong does. 

“Sadly we’ve come short to two last songs for the night,” the people whine, Chaeryeong is overwhelmed by how interactive tonight’s crowd is. “We’re slowing down the tempo so you can enjoy the remaining time with us.”

“I had a little request to my girls before the show started,” Chaeryeong shares, sounding mixed excited and nervous. “I asked them if I could change the setlist, I told them why too, and they were like a bunch of soccer moms telling me to go for it.” 

Her members burst out laughing, Jisu does too at the front row. Chaeryeong’s chest is pooled with warmth and affection for the girl who’s unveiling crescents below her. 

“So, uh, this song, I chose it because I wanted to deliver a message, to this person who traveled downtown to see me play tonight. I hope you enjoy it.”

Noises have been canceled out in her ears, the sea of people blurred in her vision, all rough patches and sketches compared to Jisu. Jisu stands there and at this moment in time, she’s the one that stands out, with heavy strokes carved into Chaeryeong’s brain. 

Chaeryeong wouldn’t know how to erase Jisu. She doesn’t want to. 

Jisu looks at her with a stunned expression, cheeks tinged with deeper pink, mouthing a what. Chaeryeong flashes her an innocent smile and grips the microphone tight as Siyeon strums the first note and the vibration of Soojin’s subtle bass thrums throughout her entire body. 

Fireside, my baby's eyes are blue

These butterflies won't seem to leave the room

Your darkest nights, you're terrified they'll be there to collect you

And when you wake up, I'll be holding you

Chaeryeong’s eyes are intensely on Jisu, she’s been aching to compliment the skirt Jisu has put on and topped it with the leather jacket (Chaeryeong’s) she had borrowed the other day. It drives Chaeryeong insane. 

She has been coveting to put her hands around Jisu’s waist, to tuck a strand of her curled hair behind her ear, to claim those hands that are pulled close to her chest for the entirety of the song. Chaeryeong caves to simply say you look pretty tonight. 

It doesn’t matter that Yeji’s singing the next part, doesn’t matter that Soojin’s singing right after, Chaeryeong is for Jisu. Through every riff, every pluck of strings — Chaeryeong plays for Jisu. She’s confident the latter knows that too. So, when her part comes again, Chaeryeong doesn’t hesitate. 

To the moon and through the night

Don't you know I'm by your side?

Take my hand, we'll travel light

'Cause I'm right here by your side

By your side, oh

Just close your eyes

Yeah, my pretty girl

Oh, my little girl

Don't be so sad

The cheers still ring in her ears after their set, when they’ve climbed down backstage and the five of them are huddled within close proximity, Siyeon’s playful arm over Soojin’s shoulders and the bassist’s hand ruffling Chaeryeong’s hair with Yeji planting wet kisses all over Ryujin’s cheek beside her, Chaeryeong feels belonged above the post-stage rush.  

The backstage is brimming with people. Other bands and the celebratory friends they bring, sound system technicians and the pub’s owner slash stage director, pacing back and forth, checking names on and off the performance list. It’s noisy, to say the least, not to mention the merriness of clinking beers. Chaeryeong feels as if she’s suffocating but being with her bandmates overthrows the tightening in her throat. 

“Oh, we’re so going to get invited again,” Ryujin giggles, arm around Yeji who’s nodding keenly.

“Well, obviously!” Siyeon exclaims, motioning her hands up in the air before slapping it down to one of Chaeryeong’s shoulders. “It’s a cluster of Chaeryeong fans out there.”

“You’re free to hit it with one of them tonight,” quips Chaeryeong as she propels her hair back. “I don’t mind.”

Siyeon snorts, “You’ve grown to become insufferable, kid.”

Soojin leans forward, “You’re not any different.” 

Siyeon shrugs in defense. 

“Hey, drinks on me tonight?” Yeji jumps into the conversation. There are high fives and sounds of bliss among the group. 

“Someone got their paycheck.”

“Now we’re talking.”

“Alright baby, let’s out with it!”

In the midst of it, Chaeryeong feels a nudge on her side. She rotates her neck and finds Ryujin looking at her with a subtle smile that requires Chaeryeong to give what she wants, a cigarette stick already sitting between her fingers.

“Left mine in the car, got one in your pocket?” 

Chaeryeong not long ago, would’ve been vexed, considering the number of lighter she’s lost due to Ryujin’s negligence. Chaeryeong now, simply gives a long side-eye glance and reaches for the item in her back pocket.

“Yeah, just hand back it after,” Ryujin grins, victorious, and grabs the lighter from Chaeryeong’s hand. 

Jisu then bursts through the red curtains, the glitter on the crease of her eyes shimmering under the blue lights. Her existence is so magnetic that her feet take her dashing towards Jisu almost immediately. 

“Loser, here’s your lighter.”

She doesn’t even think. 

“Keep it.” 

All she does is hurry towards Jisu.

She’s heaving once they’re close, her breathing coming out of her parted curved mouth. There’s a fire that Jisu sets in her chest that she never wants to be extinguished. 

“Hi,” Jisu smiles dazzlingly at her, adoration sparkling in her round eyes. “You were amazing tonight.” 

It’s one thing she’s used to hearing on gigs but nothing has ever brought more euphoria than Jisu’s short and sweet version of it. 

“Good to know,” Chaeryeong breathes out, teeth on display. “Did it to impress you.”

“You know, someone almost threw their underwear to the stage,” Jisu mentions, nose turning into an eerie scrunch though her tone is light. “You would’ve loved that, wouldn't you?” 

Chaeryeong chews on her bottom lip. She pretends to look mortified before breaking into the biggest guilty grin, “Yeah you’re right, I would’ve loved that.”

The slap Chaeryeong receives on her arm is nearly affectionate; she doesn’t regret saying it. She laughs in glee at Jisu’s downturned lips, “I’m joking darling, I don’t give a shit unless it’s yours.”

Now the smack she receives is nowhere close to cordial — it stings, possibly smeared with light red. Jisu, on the other hand, still glares at her incredulously. 

Chaeryeong cringes, “Okay, okay, rewind. What I actually meant was, do you wanna ditch?”

“Ditch?” Jisu seems doubtful at the sudden change of topic. “Right now?”

But Chaeryeong is sure and she is ecstatic, “I have something exciting to show you.”

“What about your friends?”

She spares a glance at them, specifically lands on Ryujin who’s signaling her to go. Chaeryeong slightly nods, telling that she doesn’t need to be told as she’s already made up her mind. 

She finds herself smiling at Jisu like she’s able to breathe again, “What about them?”

That’s the cue for Jisu to take the hand Chaeryeong offers and fleets out of the pub, loping to the parking lot, leaving trails of their giggles along the way. 

They stop in front of Chaeryeong’s bike, gorgeous black and kept shiny as always. Jisu’s lips are pulled into a sheepish smile, remembering the times she caught herself unconsciously peering at Chaeryeong while she was bathing her motorcycle in the driveway.

“Scared, love?”

Jisu purses her lips into a thin line and muses. The sun is setting and the sky is a canvas painted in blue undertone and orange strokes. Jisu can list down a few things she’s scared of, but next to Chaeryeong, most of them feel like a blur now. 

“No,” is the answer Jisu decides to settle with. Chaeryeong is barely convinced.

“I’ve got a spare helmet,” Chaeryeong goes to open the compartment and pull it out. She swings one leg over the vehicle and puts on her own, keeping the shield open to maintain eye contact. “All safe here.” She pats her bike.

She inspects as Jisu toes at the ground beneath their feet. She feels the urge to cloak her with every ounce of protection. Then she hands over the spare helmet, gaze softening, “I won’t speed up, I’m not that mean. It’s safe.”

“You know, you keep saying that it’s safe. In my opinion, we, humans shouldn’t trust a machine too much,” Jisu tilts her head back, trying to chase her fear with a humored retort.

Chaeryeong’s laughter quells. A very Jisu thing to say. She lets out a relented, airy sigh, “Then I’m safe,” she says. “There, do you trust me now?”

Jisu pretends to think otherwise but really, we already know how it ends. Pushing the helmet down her head, she mounts Chaeryeong’s bike with the help of the redhead, yelping a little too loudly when they’re settled. 

Chaeryeong chuckles despite the prickling heat in her body because Jisu is so, so close. She can feel her every puff and breath blowing on her nape, it creeps into her skin, sending flurries all over her system. 

The breeze is crisp, Jisu is warm in contrast. It’s a wonder found in a small moment. 

“Ryeongie,” the nickname spills sweet and saccharine off Jisu’s tongue and Chaeryeong’s head spins. “Can I hold you?”

Chaeryeong’s heart leaps in her chest, the air in her lungs entirely knocked out. It’s crazy — the butterflies — never ending and constantly swarming in her stomach. Jisu is the pull on her trigger, the door to unexpected good things. 

Chaeryeong loves it when she teases Jisu, when she gets to color the latter’s ears crimson and utter her unspoken, predictable thoughts. Though to her surprise, she loves it better when Jisu’s forward. When Jisu is bold in expressing what she wants. 

“Of course, I’m your safety pole, remember?” 

And Jisu’s laughter chimes like Chaeryeong’s favorite melody. She’s too preoccupied with it to notice that Jisu has wrapped both arms around her waist and rested her chin on the back of her shoulder. 

“Good to go?” Chaeryeong asks in a soft voice.

“Good to go."

Chaeryeong closes the choke and opens the throttle and the engine blares its glorious sound. Shortly, the motorcycle takes off, zooming out of the alley, crossing downtown at a pace Jisu strangely wishes to be faster on the spur of the moment. However, her tight hold around Chaeryeong betrays her will to accelerate. Chaeryeong wouldn’t dare either. So Jisu lets herself bask in the lashing wind, taking in details of passing stores, quiet streets, and graffiti on walls. 

A realization sits in her. That downtown has its own perks in terms of uniqueness. It certainly isn’t her favorite, but the greens she’s habituated to doesn’t necessarily mean it’s better. Jisu watches the rusty buildings lessen gradually as they begin approaching the road to the upper town, but Chaeryeong surprises her by taking an unpredictable turn to a path she hasn’t known where its existence leads to. 

“Where are we going?” Jisu asks as they speed down a single road, sandwiched by nothing but pines along the length. 

“You’ll see.”

Jisu huffs and hears the vibration of Chaeryeong’s laugh through the helmet. It’s because she trusts Chaeryeong a lot that she’s silent for the rest of the journey. 

The blue is starting to diminish, the setting sun blossoms upon the clouds, casting golden over the trees around them, Jisu focuses on them while resting her cheek comfortably on Chaeryeong’s spine. It erupts a feeling that hits close to home. 

“We’re almost there,” Chaeryeong informs, placing one hand on top of Jisu’s and squeezing it gently. “Do me a favor and don’t take your eyes off the view, okay?”

Just as Jisu nods, the pines stop coming into her view and everything is as clear as bay. They hit the highway and Jisu runs out of words to say. The orange gold stretches far and endless, the color of fire hearths and tangerines spreading throughout the horizon. It is then that she realizes that they’re higher. Below the balmy sky, the sea expands just as wide and cornerless. The deep blue is stunning, a perfect nicety to the diving sun. 

Jisu’s eyes steady on the rhythmic percussions of waves on giant rocks, face aglow with the final orange rays before twilight beckons the stars. It’s breathtaking, Jisu hasn’t seen a view like this in a very long time. To be precise, she hasn’t been in the position to enjoy any kind of scenery with a free mind.

Holding onto Chaeryeong with a view worth more than millions on the tip of her nose, Jisu is happy that she’s able to see and feel with pleasure — to have a head that isn’t always reprimanded by the looming promise of struggles to come. Chaeryeong helps her untie the knots that prevent her from soaring, it registers to her how much they have loosened since.

The vehicle slows down and Chaeryeong takes them to a stop at one of the nooks. Kicking the stand, the guitarist pushes off her helmet, hair tangled in the funniest ways. Jisu giggles as Chaeryeong shimmies, shaking her head before plopping down and stepping in to assist Jisu to take off hers.

The air of silliness intensifies as they both pull the helmet, hands on top of each other, Jisu’s hair falling down on her face. Jisu tastes the air on her teeth and feels Chaeryeong’s rough but gentle hands brush the strands away. When her vision is cleared, Jisu melts all over. Chaeryeong is staring ever so fondly and there’s a smile etched on her face.

“Do you like it?” Chaeryeong asks. Now Jisu has two beautiful things present before her.

“I like you,” she says, without wholly meaning to let the words slip out.

Chaeryeong only stares for a minute, going through several layers of expression: baffled, lips parted and eyes blown wide, then looking palpably dumbstruck with a stupid lopsided grin that makes Jisu grow impatient with each tick. 

Before her confident veneer slips away, Jisu does the justice and leans in first, clumsy hands finding their place on Chaeryeong’s jaw as she steals a brief kiss, lips brushing lightly against Chaeryeong’s.

It feels like an inexperienced first kiss: clammy, anxious, heart beating out of one’s cage. Except that it’s tons of times better because well, it’s Lee Chaeryeong, kissing her would never be disclosed as bad even when she does the bare minimum.

“Wow,” Chaeryeong mumbles after, notes of shock in her voice. “Do it again.”

Jisu narrows her eyes, “Is this what you say after a girl initiates the first kiss on your own motorcycle?”

“You’ve got an input?”

“Yeah, maybe don’t ask, maybe just make them shut up.”

“You’re not talking though.”

“I meant in other circumstances—”

And Chaeryeong narrows the gap between them, taking Jisu’s lip between hers, kissing her softly and surely. Jisu feels the earth shift on its axis. Kissing Chaeryeong is groundbreakingly nicer than all the things she deems nice. Chaeryeong tastes of mint candy and lipstick and they’re now suddenly Jisu’s favorite flavor in the world.

“You don’t taste like cigarettes,” Jisu gasps when they shortly pull away.

“Was preparing for this,” Chaeryeong says breathlessly, leaning closely once again, so the bow of their mouths touch. “Been wanting to kiss you for a while now.”

Jisu smiles utmostly and tugs on Chaeryeong’s roots, “C’mere.”

The two lip lock as the nascent rays reach down, their bodies turned into fused silhouettes among the coastline — a love blooming in the birth of night. Some time when the dark conquers the horizon and they rest on each other’s foreheads, a conversation slips in between them.

("Wait, was that confirmation to my previous deduction?”

Chaeryeong just rolls her eyes and seals Jisu with another light-headed kiss. Nails digging into the sides of Jisu's hips and mouth pressing hard with a fiery passion.

Foremost it is enough to convince Jisu that maybe Chaeryeong has kissed other girls on her motorcycle, but not in any way close to how she's kissing Jisu right now).

Jisu loves summer. Loves the golden blush that casts her skin a warmer tone and her hair a brilliant brown, loves the sultry breeze, drifting gently toward the ground, undulating her sundress and whispering ruffles of leaves into her ears. It’s the traits of sunny days that bring her fervor. When the sky is pellucid blue and the town alight in vibrant colors. When Chaeryeong holds her hand through town and Jisu beams in glee.

Presently, for Jisu, summer isn’t just heat, sweat, and humidity. 

It’s a dawned book by the river and her hands through a swirl of red on her lap. It’s melting popsicles, slow smiles, a waist to hold and a back her cheek finds rest on. Summer is kissing into brick walls and making out on the farthest library shelf. Summer is savoring mint candy on her tongue and printing lipstick all over her teeth. It is also gentle touches and words of affirmation spoken into her hair.

Like right now, as they’re strolling down the road that leads to their houses and Chaeryeong’s arm slides across to squeeze her in, nosing into her hair, murmuring things that make Jisu think she’s overdosed on honey. Summer is perfect like that. 

“Do you wanna come over?”

It’s a simple suggestion that drives her heart into a frenzy and causes her face to burn from the rush of warm blood. She’s useless when it comes to Chaeryeong, that is. Especially when asked after the latter had tilted her head back, tumbling glorious melodic sounds from her mouth, transferring into the air, and while she was pressing a kiss to Jisu’s temple. 

Initially, Jisu wouldn’t have said no but this works too. Even though, for some godforsaken reason, she finds her eyes drifting to her own roof. The pastel exterior and cheery red door leering at her. She swallows an unnoticeably growing lump.

“Or you’ve got something else going on?” Chaeryeong asks, gentle and understanding. “It’s okay if you do.”

Jisu shakes her head and turns to Chaeryeong, smiling widely, “No, no, I’d love to.”

Into the harkened light of day, Jisu’s brain is processing the white bonny door and the porch she’s standing on. She’s seen it from the arch of her window or when she’s passing by but never this close. 

Facing her front is Chaeryeong’s back, the keys in her hands rattling as she fumbles with the lock.

“Are you sure you’re not barging into somebody else’s house?”

“Maybe,” Chaeryeong breathes, a crease forming on her forehead in signs of struggle. “You wanna climb the window and find out?”

“You’re silly,” Jisu rolls her eyes as she steps forward, elbow against Chaeryeong’s ribs but fond. So incredibly fond.

“I’m silly?” Chaeryeong frowns. “This door is silly.”

Jisu snorts, “Do you need help?”

“I’m fine!” Chaeryeong waves off hastily. Jisu thinks she’s cute like this. “I can perfectly unlock the door to my own home.” She murmurs under her breath. 

Jisu lets out a giggle, nose scrunching and crescents shaping. She rests her chin on Chaeryeong’s shoulder and looks over, “You’re holding it upside down.”

Chaeryeong tenses, pausing before flipping the key, inserting it into the slot, and twisting it to the right. A click is made. “I knew that.”

“Sure you do.”

Chaeryeong makes a noncommittal noise then pushes inside. Jisu trails behind with a bit-down smile. 

The house has completely different interiors to Jisu’s (not that she expects it to be identical). From the open door, stretches a narrow hallway to the stairs. The floor is an old fashioned parquet with a blend of deep homely browns and the ceiling a rusty white from age. Chaeryeong’s home is a kaleidoscope of memories, of photographs adorning the sage green walls, an endearing sight of kindred, something Jisu hasn’t seen in a while.

“My parents live in the city with our youngest. It’s just my sister and I here,” Chaeryeong says as she unties her sneakers. Jisu follows the girl’s movement. “She’s an ER nurse so she’s barely home too. Most of the time, I have the place to my—”

“Ryeong, is that you?”

Chaeryeong’s face veils in surprise at the voice and Jisu raises an expectant eyebrow. Chaeryeong slips out of her shoes but doesn’t move further, seemingly frozen, gaze ambivalent towards Jisu.

“I’m in the kitchen!” 

She shouts back after a passing silence, “I’m coming!” 

“Do I need to go?” mouths Jisu. Chaeryeong shakes her head immediately, hand finding her wrist as if walking out of that door is the last thing she wants Jisu to do.

The smile that Chaeryeong gives to Jisu is wary. Still, she leads her through the hallway, into the open kitchen on the left. Inside they’re met with a head in the fridge, rummaging through the shelves then bending down to pull out the crisper. 

“Did you not grocery shop like I told you to last week?” The woman in navy blue scrubs scolds, sounding tired and irritated. Mostly, tired. “The fridge is empty, do you even eat?”

Chaeryeong sighs, her steps slower, “Ramyeon is in the cupboard.”

The woman straightens her posture and shuts the freeze door. She shuffles to the counter area and reaches for the drawer in her tippy toes. Chaeryeong’s taller from Jisu’s observation, she catches the latter trying to help too.

However, she lets the woman jump to grab a cup, “I’m stealing one. Buy actual food next time.”

She swivels on her heels, eyes leaking disapproval at Chaeryeong then light astonishment when they fall to Jisu. Jisu makes a note about her features, somewhat amused at similarities between two blood-related people.

“Oh? We have a guest?”

“Hi, I’m Jisu!” Greeting with a grin, Jisu offers a gentle shake of her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You’re a gem to the eye. I’m Chaeyeon,” she takes Jisu’s hand, mouth curving upward, subtly studying her up and down. “And the pleasure is all mine.”

Jisu flushes at the compliment, “Thank you.”

She can nearly hear Chaeryeong scowls from beside her.

“You’re familiar but I can’t pinpoint,” Chaeyeon clicks her nail on the lid of the cup and narrows her sight. “Is she from your band?”

“No, um, she’s our neighbor,” Chaeryeong clears her throat, eyeing Jisu then sliding her hand down her wrist to thread their fingers. “And my girlfriend.”

A pause. No red signs. Jisu and Chaeryeong, both exhale.

“I see..” Chaeyeon hums, her head tilted and lips turning up into a wider smile. “My Chaeryeong has never brought a girl home but funnily, I’ve heard all sorts of things about her. Nice to know those aren’t fully lies.”

Now, Chaeryeong’s face is a deep shade of red as she pinches the bridge of her nose. Chaeyeon laughs, menacing and in satisfaction, just like how older siblings would. Jisu tunes in for a mini bickering session, however, Chaeyeon’s pocket lights up, a classic ringtone resonating from within.

The nurse’s shoulders visibly tense. Chaeyeon deflates and the dark circles decorating her features are suddenly more prominent.

“Well, have fun, I’ve gotta rush, they haven’t stopped ringing my phone for the past ten minutes.”

The look Chaeyeon gives is apologetic, Chaeryeong can only keep a thin line, “See you later Ryeong.”

“Don’t skip your meals,” says Chaeryeong. More like warns, actually.

Chaeyeon nods, grins, then pats her sister’s shoulder. As she’s about to walk around them, she stops, sparing a glance at Jisu. Chaeyeon beams warmly at the girl before rushing out of the house, “I’ll see you around too, Jisu. I hope.” 

Chaeryeong breaks out into a sigh once the door is slammed back closed. She raises her free hand and scratches her nape, “I’m sorry, she’s…”

“Charming,” Jisu finishes with a chuckle. “I can see it runs in the blood.”

Chaeryeong shrugs, “I guess.”

“So…” Jisu trails off, eyes twitching in playfulness. “I’m the first girl you’ve ever brought home?”

Chaeryeong purses her lips then muses, “Through the door, yeah.”

Jisu nudges her side, laughing. It comes a lot more often and easier around Chaeryeong these days, “You’re twisted.”

“I’m kidding, I wouldn't be nervous over nothing,” a set of laughter joins in. Chaeryeong brushes a thumb over Jisu’s knuckle. “Do you wanna come up to my room?”

Jisu smiles at the suggestion, “Okay.”

Chaeryeong leads her up the stairs and turns the corner into her bedroom. She swiftly pulls Jisu inside, closing the door behind their backs. Settling a hand on the brunette’s back, she slowly guides her further into the room. 

Jisu takes little steps, blinking multiple times as she takes in the view of Chaeryeong's humble nest. She thinks it is almost very Chaeryeong: soft gray walls and a desk that lacks textbooks, posters — bands and second gen girl groups — plastered above it. Next to it, stands an organized rack of vinyl and a record player. There’s a medium-sized bed with fairy lights strung over the headboard and a baby blue electric guitar on a standee in the corner.

“Girls Generation, huh?”

Chaeryeong chuckles from behind, “They’re cool.”

“Mhm, they are.”

It's cute that Jisu has spotted more than five pink items in Chaeryeong's room, albeit it's blatant that the latter means to keep them hidden. Jisu won't mention it in case Chaeryeong goes into a I don't know what you're talking about mode and starts bullshitting excuses like Chaeyeon must've left those on purpose, and Jisu would deliberately nod as if she doesn't see the blaring red at the tip of the guitarist's ears. 

Yes, she's got it bad. Chaeryeong doesn't need to know that though.

The hand on the arch of her back has shifted to gain control of her hips, surprising her when they spin her around so now she's back to facing Chaeryeong. Jisu's heartbeat stutters when she's immediately met with cushion wet lips, making movements to mold with hers. In an instant, she relishes in it, eyelids drooping as she places both hands on the redhead’s nape. 

Chaeryeong is overly great at what she does. Her kisses are knee-weakening and mind-crossing, it gets Jisu to do things she'd never do like rake her nails through Chaeryeong's soft skin, or tug at the redhead's hair just to get her to groan in her mouth. 

It excites her in somewhat a way when Chaeryeong runs her hands up and down her sides and kisses her down to the bed. Chaeryeong puts her palms beside her sprawled hair on the pillow while Jisu’s fingers travel up to cradle her jaw. 

Chaeryeong kisses her deeper. Jisu can only relent to Chaeryeong's touch because it’s the closest she can get to tasting heaven.

The heat of Chaeryeong's body against her, moving with her, creates an electrifying sensation from head to toe. The way Chaeryeong's tongue demands entrance and asserts dominance makes Jisu shift and throw her legs around the latter’s waist, heels painfully digging into her lower back. 

Jisu loves that they're making out on Chaeryeong's bed, loves that it's personal and intimate, loves that she's the first girl Chaeryeong has brought home. She doesn't wanna let go of this moment. 

Though Chaeryeong eventually pulls away with a small pop, a vibrant smile on her captivating pink lips as she intently watches Jisu breathe in and out heavily. 

"What?" Jisu asks once she catches her breath. 

Chaeryeong shakes her head and kisses her forehead, "Nothing, you're just very beautiful."

Jisu's lips are parted, as swollen as Chaeryeong's, her cheeks are flushed, hair pushed back, and pupils are large. Chaeryeong wants to kiss her breathless all over again. 

"You’re too generous,” laughs Jisu then lifts her neck to press a chaste kiss on Chaeryeong’s flashing teeth. “I bet I look a mess right now.”

Chaeryeong is quick to dismiss her by planting open mouthed kisses from the corner of Jisu’s mouth down to the length of her neck. Jisu exhales harshly, hands finding their way tangled in Chaeryeong’s soft locks. Chaeryeong is vandalizing her skin with marks that will have her daydreaming for days and Jisu is certain her brain has gone haywire.

“No, no, you look perfect,” she murmurs on Jisu’s sternum. 

Jisu’s heart swells at the compliment for Chaeryeong doesn’t say it in her usual flirty tone and she doesn’t sugar coat it to tease her. Chaeryeong sounds scarily sincere as if she’s wholeheartedly convincing Jisu to believe her. 

Jisu isn’t stuck up enough to agree, but she’s nowhere in the mood to start a banter between the two of them so she lets the intimacy sit and lands her index finger below Chaeryeong’s chin, lazily moving her upwards to connect their lips. 

One kiss turns into two and two turns into three. Jisu is, once again, made boneless and pliant underneath Chaeryeong. Chaeryeong handles her like she knows her in and out. She knows when to slow down, when to kiss her languid, and when to go intense and leave Jisu speechless.

Chaeryeong’s having fun, Jisu knows. She wants to be the most fun Chaeryeong has in a while. 

“I think,” the redhead starts in between kisses. “I want you to come over often,” she places a hand on Jisu’s shoulder. “In the future.” And presses their lips together one last time.  

Jisu hums, trying to ignore the fluttering in her chest after hearing Chaeryeong mention a vague future plan, “Is that a demand or...?”

Chaeryeong hums too and props an elbow, resting the side of her face on her knuckles, “It’s a thought. I’m asking.”

Jisu stares at her face. She feels something expand in the width of her chest, something good, and so she establishes a smile. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Chaeryeong grins. 

“Yeah, I think I would really like that,” Jisu sighs, index finger tapping on the mole on Chaeryeong’s chin. 

Chaeryeong is scrutinizing, gazing lovingly and attention undivided. She takes Jisu’s finger from her chin to her lips, pressing a kiss on the skin softly. “You wanna tell me what made you look a bit wistful earlier?”

Jisu foresees the question coming. Of course, Chaeryeong had noticed. She’s awfully sweet and attentive from her nature, Jisu shouldn’t expect less from her. 

“Something happened last night.” 

Jisu is not exactly somber yet Chaeryeong still tries to provide comfort by tracing circles on Jisu’s stomach, eyes solely centered on her. Jisu feels the attachment stringing herself with Chaeryeong. She’s so good. Jisu has forgotten how it feels to rely on someone and being with Chaeryeong reminds her that it’s okay to be vulnerable.

Jisu inches closer to Chaeryeong’s arm on the pillow, huddling closer into the latter’s warmth. Chaeryeong pulls her in gladly.

“She was wasted, passed out on the floor, so I had to tuck her in last night,” Jisu murmurs, referring to her mother. There’s silence between them, a pause, a pebble in Jisu’s throat. “I was pulling up her covers when she said ‘it’s good to see you happy, my Lia’.”

Jisu feels her chest narrows, ribs closing in. She feels fickle in Chaeryeong’s embrace. Last night, she felt numb, silent tears wetting her sheets. Her mother’s statement — drunken or not — was enough to provoke recollections that made her emotions turn jagged and insides tight. And when Jisu fell asleep, she flaked out while grasping into the remnants of her mother’s warmth. 

“It's my childhood nickname," Jisu explains further. "She hasn’t called me Lia for years. It’s just, something, I guess.”

It really is more of a something than Jisu wants it to be. Jisu is nineteen and situations have coerced her into ripening maturity, but that doesn’t hinder the fact that she’s yearning like a child.

“It is,” Chaeryeong’s voice comes like the classic tunes Jisu seeks for during bad days. “Little things count as progress, love.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Jisu mumbles, continuing to stare at the base of Chaeryeong’s neck. “She’s right too, you know, I am happy.”

“I hope I’m one of the reasons why,” the redhead says into her hair.

Jisu laughs and shifts away, worming upwards so she becomes level with Chaeryeong’s height, “You are the only reason.”

The heat flurries along the length of Chaeryeong's neck, crawling into her cheeks and flushing them scarlet. She couldn’t care less that she’s blushing right in front of Jisu, her stupid pride can go kiss the ground right now.

“I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Chaeryeong hums, “Go ahead.”

“Your tattoo,” Jisu mentions, eyes drifting to Chaeryeong’s covered torso. “Does it have a meaning?”

“This?” Chaeryeong quirks one eyebrow and reaches for the bottom of her t-shirt, lifting it above her ribs. 

Pink tinges the pigment of Jisu’s face and her eyes widen in amusement, written across Chaeryeong’s ribs are the words, don’t forget to come home with a cheeky smiley face at the end of the sentence in neat, cursive writing. Jisu’s fingers unconsciously hover over the ink. Chaeryeong shivers against her.

“How old were you when you got it?” 

“Seventeen. Just last year.”

“You could’ve waited another year to do it legally,” Jisu says pointedly.

Chaeryeong’s lips curl in mischief, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Jisu rolls her eyes, clicking her tongue because of course, Chaeryeong would do that.

“This is Chaeyeon’s handwriting,” Chaeryeong tells, her voice barely above a whisper. “Once in my rebellious teenage days, I didn’t come home for a week and when I did, I found Chaeyeon had written a note and stuck it on the fridge.”

Jisu scrunches her nose, she decides she’s charmed by Chaeryeong’s dramatics, “Got a habit for making yourself sound old, huh?” 

There’s a light shrug on the guitarist’s shoulders.

“But that’s sweet of her,” Jisu coos, now resting her palm on Chaeryeong’s bare skin. “You guys must be closer than I think.”

The smile painting the redhead’s features appears to become more tender, “Doesn’t stop her from smacking me in the head every time she catches me smoking, but yes, we are close. She’s the only reassurance that wherever I go, whatever stupid shit I do, I’ll always have a home.”

And Jisu stares, sparkling with adoration at the way Chaeryeong speaks very dearly of her sister. She stares, soft yet intimate, eyes round and lip sucked in because it sinks in her that Chaeryeong is someone who loves and treasures deeply and Jisu hopes one day she’ll be worth it to be loved by her.

Chaeryeong furrows her brows, “What?”

Jisu moves closer to Chaeryeong’s face on the pillow, “You’re such a softie, did you know that?”

“Write me a note and maybe I’ll have it tattooed on the other side?” Chaeryeong flashes a playful grin. 

Jisu's eyes fall shut as she laughs, eyelashes fanned across the tops of her cheeks, "How do you feel about tattooing our first words to each other?"

“Mine is literally fuckin’ hell.”

“Oh I know,” Jisu sing-songs devilishly. “And I asked you if smoking stimulates you or something.”

Chaeryeong breaks out into a huge grin, “Yeah, and then you walked away without saying anything.”

“Reality kicked in. I thought you were about to cuss me out.”

“Trust me, I did, behind your back.”

“Now that’s not a very romantic story, isn’t it?”

Chaeryeong shakes her head, “But It's the thought that counts.” And leans in to close the gap. 

Jisu relishes the brimming happiness in her mouth. Chaeryeong tastes like the bliss she's yearned for in years. It is in that kiss of wonder that Jisu thinks, maybe life isn't so bad now that she has Chaeryeong.