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Seolhee hangs her feet over the edge, settling next to Silk on the rooftop. It's been hours since the New York concert, hours since the weird Korean witch attack. Seolhee has never felt anything quite like it before, the dead presence of an immortal witch and her underlings, leather-wrapped hands closing around her wrist.
"It's weird, isn't it?" Seolhee asks, freezing and unfreezing a snowflake absent-mindedly. She swirls a finger in the air. "The constant cheers."
"I don't know how you deal with it," Cindy admits. The lights of the concert and a bright blue ad reading LUNA SNOW with her face emblazoned on it still flicker below them. There's still a crowd milling around the stadium. "Like I've done presentations before, but never anything to your scale." She shudders. "I don't think I could ever put myself out there like you do constantly."
Seolhee studies her face lit in dramatic lighting, words framing her pose, a photo frozen in time. She remembers taking the promotional pictures for the concert, how long it took for the director to be happy with the final product. How happy she was with the final product. "It's worth it. The hardest part is taking the leap."
Cindy whistles. "If I was interviewing you, that would be the headliner." Their hands brush together. "Do you ever miss the anonymity?"
"Of course I do." Being extraordinary can only mean so much.
"Then, do you want to be ordinary with me?" Cindy turns to face her earnestly. "Just for tonight?"
Seolhee freezes at the proposition. So much of her wants to say yes. So far, right now, hanging on the skyscraper so far above it all, Seolhee has never felt more human. Cindy always makes her feel human, alive. Unbothered by the expectations on her.
"I know a great burger place a few blocks away. We can just have fun for the rest of the night," Cindy rambles on, "one great thing about here is that no one particularly cares."
"Yeah," she breathes. "Show me."
Cindy's face lights up. "Then follow me."