Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

We’ll live like there’s no tomorrow.

Kim Jenna had lived by this mantra for months, a compass for when she had to make a decision, a mindset that actually got her results. She found a reason to keep going no matter how futile the end seemed, to others at least. To the five of them, the end was merely a destination; it was the journey that they wanted to seize, one last time. And seize they did: they made the comeback they always wanted to do together, and doors opened for them to help them transition to the next phase of their lives. It’s a phase that she’s still getting used to now, the idea that she has to do things on her own, that her value doesn’t rest on how much she can sacrifice for her group or how far she can take them. There is a tomorrow, and it’s hers alone.

Writing and producing songs were obviously her next steps. She’d been doing it in some capacity even during her early days with Cotton Candy. The complete creative control she has now is refreshing, though she recognizes that she has much to learn. She’s a far cry from the likes of Troy or Bbiyong, or even Ji-han. She still needs to learn the fine line between injecting her style and sounding repetitive, to balance her creative direction for the song and the performer’s actual abilities, and to be more experimental with her producing choices. As much as she loves it, it can be exhausting, especially when she can’t turn her brain off.

Her life is as it always has been: working for her dreams, except before, it was Cotton Candy’s success and now it’s… well, she’s not sure what exactly. To be a sought-after music producer? To amass the same accolades as Troy and Bbiyong? None of it rings true. It’s a dilemma she’s encountering for the first time, walking along a path with no idea where she wants to go.

There are moments when she envies the other girls, when she gets too deep in her thoughts and starts comparing her life with theirs. Elle is mostly a vocal trainer, but has gotten several offers to collaborate on songs with different artists. Stella has gone on to playing supporting roles in dramas, while Hyun Ji is making a name for herself as a choreographer in a popular dance studio. The only person who can offer her sympathy is Chae Ah, who’s studying advertising in a university in Seoul. When asked why she chose her program, she responded, “I don’t know if this is really what I want, or if I’m still just rebelling.”

“Haven’t you done enough rebelling at this point? Just forget what your family thinks and do what you want,” Hyun Ji said.

“If only I knew what that was,” Chae Ah replied quietly. All Jenna could offer was a pat on her shoulder. When she listens to their problems, she fights off the instinct to solve it for them. It’s not her place anymore; they’ll fight their own battles. Besides, she has problems of her own. 

Her current problem comes in the form of a phone call one night, the name ‘Seo Ji-han’ flashing on the screen. She picks up the phone quickly, knowing that he never calls her unless it’s important.

“Jenna, I have to cancel our meeting for the song tomorrow. The styling team wants to meet all of us and that’s the only time we’re free.”

“Sure, let’s just reschedule.” This isn’t important enough to warrant a phone call.

“The boys and I listened to the song and Ray thinks the chorus after the bridge has too many things going on.”

“Oh. But you liked it, right?”

“I did. But Ray made a good point. Maybe if we had another version that’s less busy, we can compare and choose?”

“Alright, got it. I’ll work on it.” Her mind is already whirring with ideas. One of the best things about being in a failed idol group is knowing how to take criticism and pivoting quickly to action. “Are you in your studio?”

“Hey, don’t do it tonight. I only called because I can’t make it tomorrow. If I could, I would’ve told you during our meeting.” But Jenna barely listens to him. She’s already putting on a jacket and getting ready to head out.

“I think I know what I need to do so I want to do it now. Are you using your studio though?”

“I’m not. I’m at a friend’s place. But you have the code to the studio, so go ahead and use it.”

She thanks him and hangs up, hails a cab and gives the driver the address. Whipping out her phone, she listens to the song on the way there and jots down notes. When she arrives, she goes straight to the computer and gets to work.

She thinks she knows what Ray means, she’d been going back and forth on certain parts before showing it to Ji-han. Taking those out, it does sound cleaner but also anticlimactic. Maybe it’s not about removing anything, but mixing the whole thing better? It’s a vague task, and Jenna’s head wants to explode. Ji-han was right, she shouldn’t have started this tonight.

Suddenly, the door makes several beeping sounds, which grabs Jenna’s attention. It’s probably Ji-han and thank goodness for that because she could really use his help right now. When the door opens, she doesn’t expect the deep, booming voice that follows.

“Ji-han, Auntie wants to see you. I told her you’re busy preparing for the comeback but—“ He stops dead in his tracks when he sees her, and Jenna’s heart skips a beat when their eyes meet.

“CEO Cha.” 

It’s been months since she last saw him, just a quick wave goodbye when he had to leave the beach trip early. She didn’t reach out to him after they officially announced their disbandment through the video, not really knowing what to say. He already knew she was grateful for all his help, and she thought it would be strange to contact him when there’s nothing tying them together anymore. 

“Kim Jenna.” 

Hearing her name in his voice brings back memories of the times when he called out her name in anger or frustration. There’s something undecipherable in the way he does it now, but maybe it’s just been so long.

He clears his throat. “Is Ji-han here?”

“No, he’s out. Do you want me to call him?”

“No need, I can do that myself. Are you waiting for him, then?”

“Oh no. I’m just borrowing his studio for a song that I’m working on, that’s all.” Why she feels the need to explain to him, she doesn’t know. Maybe it’s hard to brush off the instinct that she’s talking to her boss, even after all this time.

“Ah. He did mention you’re producing one of their songs for the album. Is he making you work late?” She’s about to jump and defend Ji-han when she notices the teasing glint in his eyes. 

“No, I’m doing this to myself,” she tells him with a small smile.

“I didn’t expect anything less from you.” He grins at her, eyes crinkling at the corners, and the unexpected sight of it makes her smile grow wider. They were on friendly terms towards the end, but she can count on one hand the number of times she saw him this unfettered, let alone towards her.

He walks to the kitchen and she trails after him. Taking out some food cartons from a bag, there’s pork, chicken, rice, and several side dishes that look homemade. “Are you… stocking his fridge?”

That earns her a hearty laugh. “God, no. The side dishes are from our aunt. From the clinic, if you remember.” She does, though she still doesn’t understand what made him take her there multiple times.

“And these,” he says, gesturing to the other containers that still look hot, “are supposed to be for me and Ji-han. I thought he’d be too busy working that he’d forget to feed himself.”

It’s the first time she’s seeing this side of him. The most she got out of Ji-han was, “He’s not my brother, but he’s like my brother,” and remembering what CEO Cha said about his messy family history, she figured it was best not to pry. Him surprising his not-brother with dinner, it’s… sweet, a word she never thought she’d use to describe him or his actions.

“He said he’s at a friend’s place, so they probably have food. Maybe it’s best to just let these cool then put it in the fridge?” The food looks good though, and the sight of it reminds Jenna that she’s hungry.

“Or maybe we should just eat it. I’m guessing you haven’t had dinner yet, from the way you’re looking at the chicken.” He hands her a pair of chopsticks and she thanks him shyly after getting caught. Once he’s stored the side dishes in the fridge, he takes the seat beside her and turns to her.

“It’s been a while, Kim Jenna. How have you been?”

She’s still getting used to talking about herself. There are moments when she’d say ‘we’ when she only means herself, and sometimes she’d talk about the other girls because she thinks their stories are more interesting than hers. What else is there to say about her anyway, aside from she’s making music and doing okay? He listens to it all, patiently steers the topic back to her when she goes off on a tangent, makes comments here and there to keep the conversation going.

Before she knows it, the food is gone and CEO Cha is cleaning up. “You should go and finish your song. I’ll get going as soon as I’m done here so you can focus.”

She takes one look at the computer and shakes her head. Her brain is fried, nothing is going to get done tonight. “I’ll continue tomorrow. I think I’ve run out of steam anyway.”

“I’ll drive you home then.”

That takes her aback. “What? You don’t have to. I can get a taxi. It’s really easy to get one from here.”

He gives her a look. “It’s already late, it’s not safe for you to be out there alone waiting for a cab. Are you telling me that Ji-han lets you take a cab home when you work late together?”

He doesn’t. Ji-han usually offers to take her home and she accepts easily. CEO Cha’s got her in a trap, unless she wants to offend him. “Okay, fine.”

“I’ll bring the car over. Wait for me outside.” He heads out the door and she lets out a deep breath. The last time she rode in a car with him alone, it was awkward. Her place is 15 minutes away from here, maybe 20 minutes maximum? She can sit through 20 minutes of uncomfortable silence.

When she gets in the car, she gives him her address and she tries not to notice that he saves the location under her name. As if this is going to happen again. He starts driving and she looks out the window, watching the night lights of Seoul pass by.

“Do you miss it?” he asks suddenly, breaking her out of her reverie. “Being an idol?”

She stares at him, considering how honest she wants to be. “No. I miss the girls, I miss performing. But I don’t miss how much of ourselves we had to put out there, and having to pretend to be indifferent towards how we’ll be received. I like how our story turned out.”

In that last stretch of their career as Cotton Candy, along with all the support and love was more hate than they got when barely anyone knew them. And while it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things — after all, the journey was about the five of them — it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, or that it didn’t bother her just the smallest bit.

He nods. “I do, too.”

The atmosphere feels a bit too heavy, so she tries to change it. “I’m sure. You probably have fewer problems now that we’re no longer in Starpeace.”

“I wouldn’t say fewer problems. But there are definitely fewer people who barge into my office nowadays whenever they want.”

They share a laugh, and Jenna covers her face in embarrassment. Of course, she felt brave at the time but, in retrospect, the ease with which she just went in and out of his office all the time was unprecedented. She’d known CEO Ma for much longer and shared a deeper relationship with him but she never dared to act that way towards him.

“I told you, you were the only one who reacted to our struggles. I think I just wanted to make sure that I kept your attention,” she tells him.

“You always had it,” he shoots back. Her eyes widen at that, and she doesn’t miss how his facade falters before he clarifies, “I mean, you were an artist in the agency. Of course, I should pay attention.”

“Mhmm,” she responds playfully, which draws another laugh out of him, the crinkles by his eyes softening his usually stern face.

She gazes out into the window once again as they cross the Han River, knowing she’ll be home in a few minutes. The awkwardness she’s been waiting to arrive doesn’t come, and she lets herself relax for the rest of the ride.

He stops the car outside her apartment building, and she notices how he scouts the surrounding area from his seat. “It’s a safe neighborhood,” she says.

“It looks like it. I’m glad.”

She takes off her seatbelt and gives him a small smile. “Thank you for the ride, CEO Cha. It was good seeing you again.”

“You too. And you don’t have to call me CEO Cha, I’m not your boss anymore. Jae-hyuk is fine,” he tells her.

“Good night, Jae-hyuk.” It doesn’t quite roll off the tongue as easily, but it’s something she thinks she’ll get used to.

“Good night, Jenna.”

Chapter Text

Despite appearances to the contrary, Cha Jae-hyuk knows how to reward and to appreciate his employees. He wouldn’t have gotten to where he is now if he didn’t. Which is why he has to laugh at everyone’s bewildered faces when he sent out a company-wide email this morning, saying that they’ll have a small party in the office tonight to celebrate the success of Mars’ comeback. The invite was extended to everyone who helped out, whether they were in Starpeace or not, and anyone who the boys wanted to come. It’s not a big event — he figured the boys have had enough of that for the past two weeks — but just a small gathering with good food and a lot of drinks. They deserve to unwind, even just for a night.

The party is in full swing, and Jae-hyuk is glad to see some familiar faces that he hadn’t seen in a long time. Troy is in one corner, laughing with Elle and Dan; Bbiyong is playing some drinking game with Rey, Hyun-ji, and Ji-han, while the rest of the Mars boys and Cotton Candy girls cheer them on. They look like they’re having fun, the kind that comes when you’re tipsy enough to let loose. Unlike them, Jae-hyuk hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol, knowing that he’ll be the designated driver for at least one of them. If he can’t drink when everyone else is doing it, he’ll allow himself to have a few more cigarettes.

He exits the party quietly, not wanting to draw attention, and goes up to the designated smoking area, a small deck with a beautiful view of the Seoul skyline. He sits on one of the benches, lights a cigarette, and enjoys the night breeze. Taking out his phone, he checks his emails, mentally cataloguing which ones he needs to respond to tonight, and which ones can wait until Monday. He doesn’t notice the footsteps coming up behind him, until he hears his name.

“Jae-hyuk.”

It’s Jenna, and the way she looks under the soft, orange light brings back a warmth inside him that he thought had gone away. When she gestures to the spot next to him, he nods and puts out his cigarette, waves his arm to make the smoke go away. She sits, and he can smell the flowery notes of her perfume even with the distance between them.

“I saw you slip out of the party and you didn’t come back. I thought you’d be working in your office but Director Yoon said you might be here.”

“Why were you looking for me?” The thought of her leaving the party to find him makes his heart flutter, despite his best efforts to resist it.

“I… don’t actually know. I think I caught up with everyone except you,” she responds shyly. She glances at his phone and notices what’s on the screen. “Are you really working?”

“It may be a Friday evening for us here, but it’s still a Friday morning in America,” he says with a sigh.

A brief silence, until Jenna asks, “Where do you like it more? Here or America?”

“Here, definitely.”

“Why?”
“Many reasons. But mostly, I don’t have to worry about being who I am here. It’s… liberating.” It’s a statement that probably warrants giving her more background of what his life was like in America, but it may be a bit much for a casual conversation, and he doesn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.

“And you grew up there, didn’t you? It must have been tough.”

She seems to understand what he’s saying from what little he’s told her, though. “Did Ji-han tell you anything about our life in the States?”

She shakes her head. “No. I just remembered what you said that time you took me to dinner.”

He has no recollection of anything important he might have told her then, though he does remember taking her to dinner when she was hurt. His confusion must show on his face because she explains, “You said that the story of your family was complicated, and not something you would share with me because we weren’t close.”

That sounds like something he would say, and it still holds true. But while he’s not the type to get ahead of himself, the fact that she remembers such a thing about him emboldens him to make the next statement.

“Someday, Jenna, I’ll tell you all about it.”

The blinding grin he gets in response confirms what he already knew— his feelings for her never left, and he would still do anything to make her smile like that.

*

As Jae-hyuk predicted, he ends up driving one of them home, except he didn’t think it would be Chae-ah.

“She’d been studying non-stop for her midterms, and the last one finished today,” Jenna explains as Chae-ah sleeps in the backseat of Jae-hyuk’s car. The house she’s staying in is near her university, but quite far from Starpeace. Jenna tags along since she knows Chae-ah’s housemates, and would probably be better received instead of an older man showing up with their drunk roommate in the middle of the night.

When they arrive, Jenna guides Chae-ah inside with the help of her roommates, while Jae-hyuk waits in the car. He’s begun to look for Jenna’s address on his GPS when she knocks on his window.

“I’ll stay in the area for a bit and go home on my own. Thanks for taking Chae-ah home,” she tells him.

“What? Why?” Did she still feel awkward around him that a long car ride with just the two of them seems too much? He thought they’d gotten past that.

She points to a small park that’s a few houses down the road. “There’s a hot chocolate stall there that Chae-ah swears by. I’m going to try it since I’m rarely in this area, and maybe stay a while.”

“Would it still be open at this time?”

She nods. “Chae-ah’s roommates said it’s open until way past midnight. I’d ask you to come but it must have been a long day for you and you’re probably tired.”

Despite knowing that Jenna is more than capable of managing on her own, leaving her alone here unsettles him. He’s always wanted to take care of her, even though it took him some time to realize that it was because he liked her. After all, his actions back then — taking her to a clinic when she was hurt, checking up on her and her group when they couldn’t leave their house — were still within the grounds of a CEO looking out for his artist. Now that that relationship no longer exists, he wonders how he can rationalize leaning into his feelings once more.

“I’m not that tired. I can stay, if it’s what you want.”

“Drinks are on me,” she says, pleased with his decision, and his lips quirk upward in return.

He gets out of the car and they walk to the park together. The stall is located near the entrance, and there are a few patrons occupying the tables. She peruses the menu board while he stands behind her, amused at the wide range of choices. He’s never been one for novelty, though. “I’m getting the plain one, in a small size.”

When they get their drinks, none of the tables are free. They find an empty bench further inside the park, removed from the noise of the street and the people milling around. He takes a sip and it’s perfect for the evening chill, with just the right amount of sweetness. As the warmth fills his body, he can’t help but think that this feels familiar, and he lets himself savor the moment for a few minutes. Beside him, she’s removed the lid and is blowing on her drink, which looks very different from his.

“Whipped cream?”

“There’s even marshmallows inside.”

He cringes. “That sounds too sweet.”

She laughs before drinking, wiping her mouth when the whipped cream gets all over it. “I let myself indulge now that I don’t have to be conscious about how I look.”

“Perks of retiring.”

“Yeah, it’s not too bad.” She gestures to his drink. “How’s yours?”

“Good. It reminds me of the hot chocolate I’d get from one of those Christmas markets in New York when I was in college,” he recalls with a smile. He considers leaving it at that, but she looks at him expectantly, so he expounds, “Back then, everyone would go home for the holidays. I stayed behind, and the only other people in the campus would be international students who didn’t have family in the country. We’d go around the city like tourists, because we didn’t really get to do any of that stuff when there were classes. It was a lot of fun, probably the most fun I’ve had since I left home.”

“Do you still keep in touch with them?”

He shakes his head. “It was a long time ago. A lot of them are very successful now.”

He starts telling her about them and while normally, he’d feel conscious about talking so much in a conversation, the way Jenna seems so captivated listening to him makes him tell her more stories as he reminisces his youth. He even includes a few embarrassing ones, just to hear her laugh out loud.

When they finish their drinks and their faces hurt so much from both laughing and the wind, they decide to call it a night. On the way home, he notices that Jenna keeps yawning in the passenger seat, as discreetly as she can manage.

“You can go to sleep. I’ll wake you when we’re there,” he says when they come to a red light. She sits up straighter in her seat and rubs her eyes, muttering that she’s fine.

But even before the light turns green, her head is already slumped on the window, her breaths falling evenly and her eyes closed in slumber. He almost wants to take a picture, but thinks better of it. Instead, he commits the image to memory, just in case this is the last time he’ll be able to look at her this way.

*

He’s not a lovesick idiot.

When Jenna was still in Cotton Candy, there was a clear boundary between them. He recognized that he’d started falling for her at some point but acting on his feelings never crossed his mind. Her focus was on her group, his focus was solely supposed to be on mending his relationship with Ji-han and running Starpeace. And when it all ended, he counted on whatever feelings he had to run their course and eventually be reduced to a soft spot for her that he’ll look on fondly. Except they met again, sooner than he would have liked. And while the feelings are still there, the obstacles aren’t anymore. Is that a good enough reason to go for it?

The question has been driving him crazy the past couple of days. It’s less of a problem when he’s in the office; sitting behind his desk reminds him of the weight of the responsibility that rests on his shoulders, and leaves him no room to worry about his personal life. But any time he’s off the clock, it rears its ugly head, and he vacillates between typing out a text to her that he never sends and being consumed by his thoughts.

Case in point, he’s having dinner with Ji-han and he only comes to when Ji-han starts snapping his fingers in front of his face. “Did you even listen to anything I said?”

“Sorry, I was distracted. Can you repeat what you were saying?”

Ji-han sighs in frustration, but acquiesces. “Rey and I want to do the unit this year, before the next comeback for Mars. It looks pretty tight schedule-wise, but we already have a couple of songs from before so we can make it work.”

That’s good news, something he thought he’d have to talk Ji-han into given how reluctant he was to do it last time. “Great, Director Yoon would be glad to hear it.”

Ji-han leans back in his seat, stares at him then scoffs. “You couldn’t care less, could you?”

“Of course, I care.”

“Yeah, but not right now. What’s going on with you?”

He’ll be mocked for the next fifteen years if he says anything remotely related to the truth. “It’s just work, as usual,” he says while cutting his steak with a focus it doesn’t need.

“The fact that you’re not looking at me means you’re lying. Is this about Jenna?”

He freezes, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Ji-han who smirks. Jae-hyuk tries to keep his voice even. “What are you talking about?”

“You both were gone for a long time during the party and then came back together. And I’m not the only one who thinks there’s something going on,” Ji-han says, the last part obviously a bait that Jae-hyuk couldn’t resist. The last thing he wants is for him to be the subject of gossip, in his own agency nonetheless.

“Who else?”

“Aunt told me that you took her to the clinic several times and that you admitted to liking her.”

Great, it’s just his family, it would be a whole other story if it were any of the artists or the staff. “It was only twice, and I said that I liked her for the same reason that Aunt likes her. That hardly means anything.”

“Coming from other people, maybe, but not you.”

He has nothing to say to that because, despite the years of estrangement, Ji-han still knows him very well.

“You’re not even denying it,” Ji-han says incredulously.

“You like her, too.” He’s always had a feeling that Ji-han was interested in Jenna, given how he always stood up for Cotton Candy regardless of how it would affect Mars. They’re both adults now though, and if his gut feeling is right, he has no plans to fight with his brother over a girl.

“Hold on, are you not going to pursue her, because you think I like her? Of all the times you decide to be considerate, this shouldn’t be one of them. I respect her, I admire her, but I only see her as a friend,” Ji-han tells him.

There goes that excuse then. Not that it really mattered. Not like Ji-han telling him he’s wrong is going to make him do anything about it. He takes a deep breath. “Alright, if you say so. Can we please go back to talking about the unit?”

“I don’t care about the unit. Let’s talk about you and Jenna,” Ji-han counters, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“If that’s what we’ll talk about, then I’m leaving.” He makes a show of standing and carrying his plate to the sink, while Ji-han whines that this is exactly what brothers confide in each other. But this is a conversation he doesn’t want to have with him, or with anyone, for that matter. Something he’ll carry with him until it fades into nothing.

When he gets home and lies in bed much later, he opens his phone to his messages with Jenna. The last one was from her a few days ago, where she thanked him for making sure she and Chae-ah got home safely and wishing him a good weekend. He should’ve replied then but he didn’t know what to say. Now, the window of opportunity is gone. How weird would it be if he suddenly texted her? He tries out different variations.

“Hi Jenna. I hope all is well—“ This is not an email. He deletes that.

“Are you busy?” He only uses that when he needs something from someone urgently. This is far from urgent.

“Jenna, can I take you out to dinner?” Too direct. He doesn’t want to scare her off.

This is making his head hurt. He puts his phone down and groans in frustration. He’s not doing this. Not tonight, not ever. It will pass, like all things do.

*

He’s never been particularly active but, in the spirit of building healthier habits as his aunt always nags him about, he’s decided to commit to running every morning. Weekends are better than weekdays; he doesn’t have to get up as early, and he can take his time and slow down to a jog. He listens to the demos that he received over the week as he runs, takes note of the ones he thinks are worth handing over to the producers. He can’t help but still work during his off hours, and it’s a good distraction as well from whatever lingering thoughts he has about Jenna.

He’d come to a decision after a week of being stuck in a limbo that he created for himself: he’s going to put aside his feelings for Jenna and just trust that they’ll go away at some point. It’s simply not worth the risk. She’s probably not interested in dating anyway, busy as she is with starting a new career path and all the uncertainty that comes with that. Or maybe the most she’ll ever see him as is a friend, which he should already be grateful for considering how things started between them. He’ll meet someone else down the line, and this whole debacle will just be a silly fantasy he can’t believe he was crazy enough to indulge in.

He ends his run outside the juice bar near his apartment. He’s pretty much a regular here every morning, and the girl by the counter already knows what he’s getting before he says it. There’s more people than usual, as expected since it’s a weekend, so he waits for his order by the receiving area. When his buzzer lights up, he walks up to the counter and grabs his drink.

“Can I ask for an extra straw please? Thank you!” A familiar voice chirps from his right. He turns to look and Jenna’s already looking at him.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she says, amused.

His surprise is quickly replaced by a small smile at the sight of her. “I live near here. What are you doing here?”

“I’m working with someone whose studio is nearby.” She looks like she wants to say more, but her extra straw arrives and people start crowding the receiving area. He gestures that they take their conversation outside and she nods.

When they’re outside, he doesn’t miss how she gives him a once-over. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you out of a suit.”

He’s in a faded sweatshirt and joggers, his hair is a mess, and he’s still sweaty from his run. He feels incredibly self-conscious but Jenna quickly corrects herself. “You still look great, don’t worry! Just different than usual.”

And now he’s blushing as well. He clears his throat and points to the right. “I’m headed that way. You?”

“Same.”

It’s a short walk to the intersection, and Jenna informs him that she’s headed another way to the studio. They bid each other goodbye and Jae-hyuk watches her back as she walks away, a heaviness seeping through him. It’s metaphorical, almost — him standing still, watching her slowly fade into the distance as she gets farther away from him. The universe must be mocking him, placing her in his path again just when he’s decided to forget about her. It all feels wrong somehow, like he’s choosing to be a coward when he can be courageous.

He takes one step towards the direction she went, then another, and finds that each step eases the weight in his chest. He walks faster, speeding up to a run, until he catches sight of her again.

“Kim Jenna!”

She stops in her tracks and turns around. When he stops in front of her, he’s met with her confused expression. With a grin that makes his cheeks hurt, he asks her, slightly out of breath, “Do you want to go out with me some time?”

Chapter Text

She said yes.

Before she could think about what it meant, before she could consider the consequences, before she could fully process what he was asking — she said yes. At that moment, all she could see was the wild elation on his face, and she could say nothing but yes.

When she had gone home and no longer had work to distract her, she finally realized what she had done. She said yes to a date with Cha Jae-hyuk, a man with whom she shared a colorful history, disproportionate to the period of time they’ve known each other. It was a date, right? She may have been out of the scene for a long time, but there’s no way that was an invitation to hang out casually given how he chased her from where they parted. And while she was still mostly in disbelief over what happened, there was a small part of her that thrummed with excitement, an unfamiliar feeling that she didn’t find unwelcome.

Their first date is a blur to her now, and only certain details remain vivid in her memory: the outfit she asked Stella to help her with and the unexpected compliment he gave her upon seeing her, the pretty lanterns in the al fresco restaurant they went to that made her see him in a romantic light — yes, figuratively and literally — and the odd conversation or two that made her heart stop.

She remembers sitting in the car with him on the way to the restaurant, and a burning question she had.

“Why did you ask me out?”

Keeping his eyes on the road, he responded, “Isn’t it obvious?”

Yes, but she didn’t want to assume. She’d been trying to rationalize why something didn’t feel quite right, as if they missed a step. “Is this the American way of doing things? You just ask people to go on a date out of the blue?”

“Most of the time, yes. But…” he faltered, as if considering whether or not to continue. At her raised eyebrow, “…I told you something to that effect in the past.”

She had no idea what he was talking about. If he had confessed to her at some point before, it was impossible that she’d forget about it. “When?”

“At Starpeace, in the middle of the plagiarism issue with Bbiyong.” His voice went soft, as if he’s embarrassed to say what’s next. “I told you that my aunt liked you, and I did too.”

She hit his arm before she realized that she’s doing it, which took them both by surprise. “That’s… you call that a confession?” she said, flabbergasted. “You were just buttering me up so that I’d give up on the song. Do better.”

He didn’t deny it, and when she faced back to the front, she saw his lips purse from the corner of her eye as he continued driving. When they got to a stop sign, he turned to face her. “Fine. The truth is, I liked you then. And I like you so much more now that I’d regret not doing anything about it. That’s why I asked you out. Is that good enough?”

She would have teased him about his ears turning red if her own cheeks weren’t burning. “As long as you mean it,” she said, a slow smile spreading across her face.

*

That first date led to another one — this time a seaside day trip that Jenna suggested, starting at a popular seafood restaurant for lunch. When the hostess tells them they are tenth on the list to be seated, Jae-hyuk gives her a look as they walk back to the end of the line. “Are you sure this is where you want to eat?”

“It’s crowded for a reason.” She’d been wanting to eat here for a long time, she just didn’t have someone to go with. “I promise, it’s worth it.”

“I’ll just have to trust you then. Did she say how long we might have to wait?”

“An hour, tops?”

He makes a face, which Jenna finds unexpectedly cute. As she’s been learning, he’s full of surprises. Even before, once they got past antagonizing each other, she’d been amazed to find that underneath his harsh and cold exterior was a warm-hearted person who showed people how much he cared by his actions and not his words. This is much clearer to her now that she knows how he felt about her then. Seeing him like this, free from the restrictions that their previous dynamic imposed on him, the image she had of him that first time they met on Starpeace’s rooftop seems like a distant memory, and the man standing in front of her now is someone she wants to keep getting to know.

She doesn’t want to waste an hour in line either, so she proposes their next activity. “Do you want to walk along the beach while we wait? I can give my number to the hostess and tell her to call us when a table is ready.”

A few steps from the restaurant is the beach. Both of them take off their shoes, except Jenna leaves hers by a rock and Jae-hyuk carries his. He had offered to carry hers but she refused, feeling embarrassed and figuring they would go back that way to the restaurant again. She runs to the sea, excited to feel the waves lap at her feet and the sand between her toes. Turning back, it seems that he followed her but stopped at a respectable distance.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I don’t want to get wet. Go on. I’ll walk with you from here.” He stays at the dry part of the shoreline as she relishes the feeling of the waves crashing and pulling the sand underneath her, making her sink slightly deeper with every step. When a particularly strong wave comes, she stumbles and would have fallen over, if not for a strong grip on her arm pulling her upright.

“You alright?” Jae-hyuk asks as he loosens his hold and offers her his hand. The moment she takes it, another wave comes, but she remains steady as she clutches his hand tightly. He frowns, and she thought she may have gripped his hand too hard, until her gaze flits downward and she sees why. His pants are drenched up to mid-calf, and Jenna’s almost afraid to look up, knowing how particular he is about his clothes.

He sighs and lets go of her hand. Handing his shoes to Jenna wordlessly, he bends down and folds the wet ends of his trousers up to right under his knees. He takes his shoes back with one hand and reaches out to Jenna with the other. There’s an exasperated look on his face, but the smile playing on his lips reveals his true feelings. “When in Rome…”

That earns him a small laugh, and she intertwines her fingers with his, walking side-by-side.

*

It’s been a month since they last saw each other, and that was a 15-minute coffee date that Jae-hyuk had to rush out of when a PR scandal broke.

She’s not the clingy type, something new she’s learned about herself while dating Jae-hyuk. She doesn’t mind not seeing each other as often as they would like, knowing that they’re both busy with work. She can get by with a few messages exchanged here and there throughout the day, even if lately it’s been limited to “Good morning” and “Good night”. Between the two of them, he’s more likely to call her in the middle of the day, to ask if she’s eaten or how her day has been so far.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t miss him. She does, a lot, but she also knows that she’s his weakness, and he can’t afford to be distracted right now. Starpeace is three months shy of going public after several false starts, and the board has been breathing down Jae-hyuk’s neck to make this happen.

Work consumes a lot of her time. Several artists have been approaching her to work on their songs following Mars’ success. Generally, she heeds Troy’s advice. Work with as many big or well-known names as she can so she can establish herself in the industry, and then she can pick whatever projects she wants to work on in the future. Unfortunately, she can’t resist the artists who are struggling or just starting out. To be fair, some of them actually have good songs, and for those that don’t, well, she knows how she can help them. It’s not that she doesn’t know how to say no; it’s just that, she’d been in their shoes a little over a year ago, and she sees the inklings of her former self in their resolve. It’s a tough place to be in, and she knows from experience that every little bit of help helps.

She’s crafting an email to provide feedback on one of the songs from these rookie artists when her doorbell rings. It’s almost midnight, she’s not expecting anyone, and her heart races in her chest, fearing it might be an intruder. When she checks the intercom, she almost can’t believe what she’s seeing.

“Jae-hyuk?”

“Jenna, sorry, did I wake you? Can I come in?”

She surveys her apartment quickly to make sure it’s tidy before unlocking her door. Here he is, in front of her finally, dressed in his three-piece suit, hair still immaculately styled, exhaustion in his eyes but with a grin that lights up his face.

“You’re here,” is all she can say, arms fixed firmly on her sides to stop herself from reaching for him. It’s pointless, as he gathers her in his arms and breathes into her hair.

“I wanted to see you.”

She wraps her arms around him and hugs him tight, to let him know how much she missed him without saying the words.

They let go and she ushers him in, lets him take a look around as she prepares coffee. It’s the first time he’s been in her apartment and the sight is slightly jarring. He looks out of place in her small living room, but maybe it’s just something new that she’ll get used to eventually, like so many things about him that she’s now grown to love.

Love. Is she already there? The fact that he liked her first — and did so for a long time — before she felt the same way about him sometimes makes her feel like she’s in a race to catch up with him emotionally. To be fair, he’s never done or said anything to make her feel that way; Jenna knows it’s all in her head. In most of her close relationships, especially the ones with the Cotton Candy girls, she’s always been the one to feel more, to give more, and to love more. With Jae-hyuk, there’s a balance between them that she’s learning to get accustomed to. There may be times when the scale tips more to one side than the other, but never for too long.

She hands him a steaming mug of coffee in the dining area and sits across him. He looks so tired, bags under his eyes, his cheeks more sunken than they were when she saw him last.

“How terrible do I look?” he asks in self-deprecation, after sipping from his coffee.

“Nothing that sleeping well and eating properly can’t fix.” She fights the urge to touch his face, to run her fingers over what’s changed and what’s remained the same.

“In that case, it’s going to get worse before it gets better,” he says with a deep sigh.

“That bad?”

He nods. “Three more months. But if they’re anything like the last month has been… I might not have anyone left in Starpeace by the end of it.”

“Director Yoon’s not going to leave you in the lurch,” she jokes.

“He’s going to be the first one, I know he has all these other companies in his speed dial,” he shoots back.

They fall silent after that brief moment of lightness, and Jenna notices how Jae-hyuk is staring into his mug, brows furrowing as he gets lost in thought. She thinks she knows why he came here, more than just wanting to see her, even if he might not know it himself.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” she asks tentatively. He rarely talks to her about work, or his problems, at least. But she’d like to think that she knows part of what he’s feeling. Being the leader means carrying some burdens on your own. And having someone from the outside who’ll listen can help lighten the load.

He hesitates, and then he spills. About how Lune’s scandal has made their jobs twice as hard these days. About the team’s inexperience with handling this kind of undertaking. About the countless meetings that take up his time, including early morning and late evening ones. About the enormous pressure he’s under to pull this off. It may seem like he’s just ranting or complaining but as she listens to him, the tension from his shoulders noticeably eases, and by the end of it, there’s a bit more life in his eyes compared to the dullness earlier.

It’s past one in the morning when Jae-hyuk reluctantly tells her that he needs to go get some sleep before attending a call in a few hours. She walks him out, doesn’t restrain herself from hugging him goodbye outside her doorway. They pull apart, but her fingers linger on the front of his jacket. It’s only now when he’s leaving that she realizes how grateful she is that he visited her, knowing it will be a while before she sees him again.

When she looks up at him, he’s staring at her with so much fondness that she can’t help it. She gets up on her tiptoes and kisses him on the cheek.

“Drive safe, okay?” Her fingers are busy with his jacket, but her eyes are locked on his.

Suddenly, she feels a palm on her cheek, and his face draws closer to hers. He pauses for a beat, as if asking for her permission, before leaning in and capturing her lips with his. She kisses him back, slowly, softly, and nothing like their first time.

Love. Perhaps she’s closer to it than she thought she was.

Chapter Text

It’s 11:45 AM, 15 minutes past the time they agreed to meet. What is taking her so long?

He feels a hand on his knee, and he turns to Jenna, who is looking at him with concern and amusement. “Why are you so fidgety? If anyone here should be nervous, it’s me.”

“You have nothing to worry about. She liked you the moment she met you,” he says, squeezing her hand.

“Exactly. So what are you worried about?”

“She’s so unpredictable. I have no idea what she’ll suddenly say about me or our family.”

“Whatever it is, it’s fine. I knew you when you hated me. I’m not changing my mind about you,” she reassures him. When Jenna says something like that, his heart still flutters, even when it’s already been several months since they got together. The difference now is he can do something about it instead of keeping it in.

He pulls her close by the shoulder and places a light kiss on her head. “I never hated you. Just your guts,” he whispers before releasing her.

She’s about to retort when the person they’ve been waiting for arrives, but with another person in tow, and Jae-hyuk’s mind spirals into panic.

“See, I told you the look on his face when he sees you would be worth it,” his aunt snickers to Ji-han, who isn’t hiding his enjoyment.

She turns to Jenna and greets her with a kind smile that he’s never been on the receiving end of. “Jenna, it’s good to see you again, and not as a patient this time. I was a huge fan of Cotton Candy.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. We really appreciated the gifts you sent us before.”

“I hope they were helpful. Someone needed to take care of you girls,” she says, pointedly looking at Jae-hyuk as she takes the seat across him and Ji-han occupies the remaining seat.

Jae-hyuk clears his throat, not wanting his aunt to steer the conversation. “Was the traffic bad?”

“This one took some convincing.” She points to Ji-han. “I told him we haven’t had a meal together in ages but the only thing that got him to agree was being able to watch you squirm.”

“He was really nervous while waiting,” Jenna adds teasingly.

Jae-hyuk groans as they all laugh at his expense. This is worse than he imagined. “Please let me live.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll save the embarrassing stories for next time,” his aunt says.

Thankfully, she keeps her word and the teasing abates. As they wait for their food, his aunt starts getting to know Jenna on a personal level, asking her what she’s been up to, what kinds of food she likes, and what she enjoys doing. Jenna responds enthusiastically, shows interest in their aunt by asking about her as well. Their aunt reminisces about watching the boys grow up before moving back to Korea, and Jae-hyuk and Ji-han take turns filling in the details for Jenna. Certain memories would be remembered differently by the three of them, and Jenna is considered the official arbiter, who only laughs. When their aunt places the first piece of meat on Jenna’s plate instead of Ji-han’s, it’s clear that there is a new favorite.

A subtle warmth spreads across Jae-hyuk’s chest as they eat silently. When he accepted the offer to come to Starpeace, all he wanted was to make amends with Ji-han, a difficult feat in itself considering how they parted. He didn’t expect to get his brother back, though of course their relationship is different now that he’s no longer a little kid that needs protecting. It took courage for him to reach out to his aunt after all those years, knowing that she still held a grudge against him for the mess he made, the woman sitting beside him unknowingly providing the perfect excuse. And now here they are, sharing a meal together as he formally introduces the woman he loves to his family.

As he considers the two people sitting across him, his aunt catches his eye. She must have an idea of what he’s thinking, because she gives him a tender smile before pushing the plates of vegetables towards him. “Have more of these. You’re not getting any younger.”

At the end of the meal, their aunt wins the battle of who’s going to pay. Jae-hyuk and Jenna wait with her as Ji-han gets his car, Jenna thanking her not just for the meal but for welcoming her. She gives Jenna a hug and tells her, “Just call me aunt, and don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. You’re Jae-hyuk’s girlfriend and Ji-han’s friend. You’re practically family now.”

Ji-han arrives, and Jae-hyuk opens the door for her. “I knew she’d be good for you. You chose well,” she tells him softly before they drive off.

Looking at Jenna, he thinks there was never a choice to begin with. Going for her was his choice, yes, but falling for her was inevitable. She was his match, the only one who challenged him and his decisions, the one who broke through the barriers he created back then to survive, undaunted by his gruff facade and his harsh words. She pushed him to become a better person, allowing his real self — the warm, caring boy his father raised and Ji-han admired — to come through. One can only stand strong against that kind of force for so long, and in the end, it was easier to give in than to resist. He never had a choice when it came to her, but even if he did, he thinks he’d still end up here, choosing her.

*

“Jenna!”

The girls greet her with tight hugs and so much enthusiasm that she almost tears up. It’s the one year anniversary of their disbandment and she doubts anyone outside the five of them has any sentimental attachment to the date. They collectively decided to clear their individual schedules and spend the day together in a small guesthouse outside of Seoul. Jenna’s the last to arrive and she catches up on what she’d missed.

“I can’t tell you the details yet but I’m getting my first lead role in a drama,” Stella shares shyly.

“I’m signing with a new agency next month to launch a solo career,” Elle says.

“There’s a dance crew I joined and we’re competing on a TV show. We haven’t auditioned for any yet, but I’m sure we’ll get in,” Hyun-ji declares, which draws a laugh out of everyone.

When it’s Chae-ah’s turn, she tells them she’s enjoying university life, then pauses, before dropping a bomb on them. “I have a boyfriend now.”

They all cheer for her, though Jenna briefly panics at the thought of having to share a similar piece of information with them. Stella’s the only one who knows and she’s not ashamed of him or anything, she just knows that they never saw him amicably during their last few months together, unlike her.

It’s Jenna’s turn. Had this been before, before Jae-hyuk, before her producing work stabilized, she would have felt inadequate upon hearing what they have been up to. Except for Chae-ah, they all still seem to have a grand dream, be it reaching a certain level of success or fame. Back then, she felt like she needed that too. Her identity has always been tied to a goal she would pursue single-mindedly, with all her heart and soul, stemming from the belief that her happiness would follow once she achieved it. But if there’s anything she’s learned in the last few months, it’s that she can have many dreams, no matter how big or small they may be, work towards them, and not let her entire being be consumed by it. Balance, a word that she’s come to embody after having tasted both failure and success.

She realizes now that she wants a lot of things. She wants to make music that she likes for people who she respects. She wants to help struggling musicians be heard, even if that means turning down opportunities with more famous artists. She wants to have her own studio someday. And she wants to be with Jae-hyuk, for how ever long they can make their relationship work.

“The same old, producing songs and stuff,” she tells them, not caring how boring she sounds. Stella gives her a look and Elle catches it.

“What’s that? Are you guys hiding something from us?”

Caught red-handed, she confesses with a sigh, “And I’m seeing someone.”

She gets the same reaction that Chae-ah does, except they’re more curious about his identity since it’s probably someone from the industry.

“Do we all know him?” Hyun-ji prods. “Is he a celebrity?

“Yes, you do. And no, he’s not a celebrity.” That narrows it down to a very short list of people, which means they’ll probably figure out who he is in less than a minute.

“Can’t be Troy. Can’t be Bbiyong,” Elle starts eliminating candidates.

“CEO Cha,” Chae-ah jokes, except Jenna and Stella’s heads snap in her direction, eyes wide.

A hush falls over them, until Hyun-ji gets over her shock and exclaims, “Jenna! What were you thinking?”

“You two don’t even get along,” Elle points out.

“We do, we just weren’t on the same side back then,” Jenna insists. They’re only privy to the moments they saw them on opposite sides, not the ones where they managed to swallow their pride and to see where the other was coming from.

“When did it start? Was it during the party when you both took me home?” Chae-ah asks.

She pauses to consider Chae-ah’s question. It’s not difficult, she can tell them about their first date, or when he asked her out. But something else about the question bothers her. What does it mean if she doesn’t know when she first saw him differently, when she saw him as a man and not as her boss?

When he entered Starpeace, she held him to a higher standard than she should have, given the reputation that preceded him and Ji-han’s animosity. Maybe he’s not as bad as they said he was, maybe he was actually a decent person. While there were several times in the beginning when he let her down, she learned over time to give him the benefit of the doubt, the ultimate test being when he asked her to trust him, that he’ll take care of the mess they created with Troy, Elle, and KillA. And when all was resolved more seamlessly than she could have ever imagined, she knew she was right about him. That despite the arguments, the misunderstandings, and the tears, he was a good person and she could trust him.

She remembers her first instinct upon seeing Reporter Mo’s follow-up article was to run to his office and show him her appreciation. But duty called, and she figured it could wait until they finished recording with Troy. Sure, she could have sent him a message or gave him a call, but it didn’t feel enough; she had to see him. And that night, when she echoed his words back to him and thanked him, not even his lackluster reaction could take away the smile on her face. Because underneath that bluster was the man she always thought he could be, betting on the 1% potential that she saw in him.

And while the events that unfolded after made her forget that brief moment, she now has her answer. Part of her is in disbelief that it started that long ago, and she feels silly for only realizing it.

“Hey, are you that giddy just thinking about it? I didn’t think you’d be this sappy,” Elle says, nudging her. She didn’t even realize she was smiling.

She tries to school her expression. “No, I just… I’ve never talked about this before but fine.”

Even Stella only got the basics, so she feels incredibly shy giving them a summary of how things happened and how they are now, purposely omitting the parts that she’s embarrassed to even speak out loud. At the end of it, everyone’s staring at her with a look that’s a complete 180 of their reactions when she broke the news.

“I’ve known you for a long time, and I’ve never seen you glow like this before. I’m happy for you, Jenna,” Elle tells her.

“I can picture you two together. You’re beautiful, he’s attractive. I mean, If I didn’t know anything about him and just saw him, I’d say he’s hot.”

“Hyun-ji!”

The other girls throw pillows at her, cackling, while Jenna’s face goes red in embarrassment. Hyun-ji defends herself, “This is how I say I approve, okay?”

She turns serious, before continuing, “He was there for me when my grandmother fell into a coma. He may be prickly but underneath all that, I think he’s a good person. You chose well.”

“You make it sound like I’m marrying him,” she mutters, though she appreciates Hyun-ji’s input. They give her a knowing look, which she tries to deflect by laughing and shaking her head, until Stella mercifully changes the topic.

That’s still a few years down the line — so many things can happen — but when he does, if they’re lucky enough to get to that point, she thinks she knows what her answer would be.

*

“I need to go to the States next week.”

“Okay. When are you coming back?”

“In two months,” Jae-hyuk responds, already knowing what Jenna’s reaction will be. As he predicted, she shuts the lid on her laptop and gives him all of her attention.

“Did something happen?” It’s a fair question. He frequently has business trips abroad, but never for more than a week.

He explains to her that his employment with Starpeace was always meant to be temporary. His sole purpose was to make the company go public; being appointed CEO happened only because CEO Ma passed away and he was already here. Now that he’s accomplished what he was supposed to do, HQ wants him back.

“Wait, so you’ll be working there again? And you’ll be coming back here in two months to what? To visit?”

He places a hand on her arm, sensing that she’s getting agitated despite trying to keep her voice even. “I said no, obviously. But the Starpeace board wants to keep me on as CEO, which means I need to take care of some documents to make my transfer here permanent.”

There’s a skepticism in her voice when she speaks this time. “Why does it take two months to sort out some documents, though?”

“It’s not just about work. I need to sell my apartment, sell my car, handle any tax and citizenship issues. There’s a lot. I could do it from here, but I’d rather go there and just deal with it quickly.”

“You shouldn’t have waited until the last minute to take care of it all,” she nags playfully, and he’s glad the tension between them is gone.

“I came here to fix things with Ji-han. I didn’t think I’d have a reason to stay once I’ve done that,” he tells her sincerely, eyes boring into hers. He’s not just referring to her, though she’s a huge part of it. He wants to build a life here, close to his family, and where he can be as he is, free from discrimination and prejudice.

She inches towards him and gives him a soft kiss, pulling back slightly with their noses still touching. “If people only knew how sweet you can be—“

“They’d be dead.”

They both burst out laughing. When Jae-hyuk recovers, he finds Jenna looking at him with an expression he’s never seen before, a mix of tenderness and appreciation, but not quite. He raises an eyebrow, silently questioning, until she speaks.

“I love you. It’s the first time we’re saying it, but I’ve felt it for a while now. You know that, don’t you?”

Ah, that’s what it is. It never occurred to him that they’ve never said it before, mostly because he thought it was clear as day. The way they care for each other, how they support each other, the time and effort they put in to nourish and to strengthen their relationship. What else could that be if not love?

“Yes, I know. It’s good to hear it though.”

She looks at him expectantly but when seconds pass without him saying anything else, she huffs and rolls her eyes at him. She gets up off the couch when he grabs her arm and pulls her towards him, landing on his lap. Both his arms wind around her lower back, holding her body flush against his.

“Of course, I love you. More than you can imagine.”

He can feel her smile on the side of his neck, pleased with his answer. He loosens his embrace so she can sit upright on his lap, her hands resting on his chest. She draws her face closer as her hands snake their way up his neck, under his jaw, behind his ears, ending at the back of his head, until he can feel her breath on his lips.

“I’ll miss you while you’re gone,” she tells him before she closes the gap between them, tongues sliding into each other’s mouths. There’s none of the urgency that one would expect given their upcoming separation; instead, it’s warm and soft and lazy, letting themselves enjoy the moment — and each other — while they’re still together.

Later, in bed, he plays mindlessly with her hair as she rests her head on his chest, both of them completely satiated. Her fingers tap a random beat on his stomach, which tells him that she’s not yet asleep.

“Before I forget to tell you, you might have to get your things from here before I leave.”

Her fingers pause, and she looks up at him. “Why?”

“This is corporate housing, which is why the only things here that belong to me are my clothes. When I transfer to Starpeace, I’ll lose some perks, including this one.”

She nods and resumes her place on his chest. “I’ll help you pack over the weekend and you can leave some of your clothes in my place.”

He mutters his thanks as he strokes her shoulder. As early as now, he probably needs to start thinking about what he’ll do when he gets back. Finding somewhere to stay should be his first priority and considering that he’ll be putting down roots, he doesn’t want an apartment as clinical and dull as this one. He has an idea, but debates whether or not to share it with her. In the end, he decides to go for it, realizing that his instincts when it came to her has never led him astray.

“When does your lease run out?” he asks as nonchalantly as he could.

“In 3 months. Why do you ask?” she murmurs drowsily.

“Do you… want to get a place together?”

He feels her freeze beside him and for a second, he thinks maybe he read her wrong. “It was just a thought —“

“Wait, are you serious?” She lifts her head from his chest, eyes wide, all traces of sleepiness gone.

“Only if you want to.” He means it, not wanting to put any pressure on her. He just thought about it anyway, and he’ll have no hard feelings if she says no.

She kisses him firmly. “Of course, I do. I just might say yes to anything you say now that you’re leaving.”

He chuckles at that, wonders what she’s up to when she grabs her phone and goes online. “Let’s look at listings,” she tells him with a grin.

He doesn’t have it in him to complain that it’s late and that they should sleep, not when he sees her this excited to start a future with him. As she talks about her location preferences, the tiles she wants in the bathroom, and the size of the kitchen she likes, he can’t help but think — this is exactly why he wanted to stay.

*

‘I’ve landed.’

Jae-hyuk’s message arrives faster than the arrivals board gets updated. When the announcement comes over the PA system, most of the people around her flock towards the gates, eagerly anticipating the arrival of their loved ones. Jenna, however, knows better than to join the crowd and force her way to the front, just to see the earliest glimpse of him. She’ll keep an eye out, sure, but they’ll find one another sooner or later.

She observes them from a distance. The people at the back struggling to get past one row of people, only to be met by another, and there’s no telling if they’ll even make it to the front. It’s futile in her eyes because the person they’ve come to see will come out anyway, so why tire yourself out when you can just wait?

Funny how she didn’t use to think like this. Maybe comparing herself to the crowd at Incheon’s arrival gate is a stretch, but she’d like to think that she’s on to something. She’d always prided herself on working hard, on giving her best effort in everything she does. She’d lost faith in the universe, with bad luck and despair surrounding her during her years with Cotton Candy, things only taking a turn when she took matters into her own hands.

In retrospect though, she may have given herself too much credit. Losing CEO Ma and Du-ho at the same time — as tragic as it was — was the trigger they needed to claim their own story. Ji-han’s interference and stubbornness, unwelcome as it may have been, granted them their first real opportunity to be known to the public again. Jae-hyuk’s quick thinking and knack for crisis management helped them get past several unfavorable situations that would have meant the end of their run. And perhaps, though she’d given up on the universe, it hadn’t given up on her, because the way things fell into place was nothing short of a miracle.

Unknowingly, when she was starting her life post-disbandment, she had placed her trust in the universe once again. She had no destination in mind, no goal to achieve, and yet she had to keep going. At that time, she only had questions, and no amount of hard work or effort could provide her with the answers. All she could do was wait for them to come, how ever long it may take. And now, more than a year later, her life has gone in a completely unexpected direction, with some of those questions answered but also replaced by more questions. She’s not afraid, though, safe in the knowledge that her future will unfold as it should, and that she doesn’t have to try so hard to make everything happen; some things will, and some things won’t.

Right then and there, she spots a familiar figure a few feet away, his back to her, looking for someone. She watches him quietly, waits until he turns around. When he finally does and locks eyes with hers, he greets her with the warmest smile, and Jenna knows that wherever life takes her, she’ll end up where she’s meant to be, again and again.