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The first time Bra realizes something is wrong is in their Physics lecture.
"Hey, dude..." Pan looks at Bra, clearly uncomfortable. She then turns to the front, squinting at the new slide the professor had just put up. "What's the formula? I can't see it properly."
Bra glances at the equation in question. It's been put up in a pretty large font, bold face. Pan should be able to see it. What's worse is that this isn't the first time this has happened.
"You can't see it?" Bra asks carefully. Pan's shoulders slump, and concern bubbles in Bra's stomach.
"It's all fuzzy. I couldn't read the other slide either..."
"Do you have a headache?" Bra knows to ask this because Pan has been complaining about them recently, around the same time she started having issues seeing the board.
Pan nods again, not looking up. Bra sighs, digging into her tiny backpack for the bottle of Advil she's learned to keep around for this precise issue. It's buried beneath scented lotions and crumpled Panera receipts. She hands Pan two of them, and her friend takes them gratefully. "Just keep your eyes closed for now, I'll take notes and you can just copy them down later."
This makes Pan's lips quirk up. "I can't read your notes, Bra. They're too squiggly. Can you even read your notes?"
"I'll try my best for you," Bra says with a fake sweetness that she'd perfected over the years, and pats her cheek with a perfectly manicured hand. "Close your eyes, dumbass."
Pan smiles, grateful, and pulls the hood of her sleeveless hoodie over her head, before putting her head down. Bra tries to push down the worry, and focus on writing legibly.
👓
"I think there's something wrong with Pan," Marron says to Bra the next day. She tries not to jump, because, when she wants to, Marron moves like a ghost, never making a sound, only making her presence known right when she's behind someone.
"Jesus fuck, Marron," Bra wheezes, putting a hand over her (now hammering) heart. Marron smiles, as though she gets a perverse sort of pleasure in decreasing Bra's life span, and hops on the counter next to where Bra has been washing the dishes.
"Have you noticed, though?" She asks, legs swinging, pink platform mary-janes clicking against the drawer beneath her. She reaches over for Bra's phone and (very rudely, in Bra's opinion) turns down her music.
Bra digs her hands out of the soapy water. She hates dish duty because everyone in the apartment stacks everything they can think of in the sink on purpose and leaves it specifically for Bra. Pan calls this karma. Bra calls it unethical division of labor. "I've noticed that I can't hear Dance the Night Away anymore."
Marron rolls her eyes at her. "No, stupid. Pan? Something's clearly wrong. She almost ran into a streetlamp last night coming back from class."
Bra pauses, looking at Marron in alarm. Pan hadn't told her this. The worry is back again, clawing at her insides, tenfold this time.
"I think she needs to go see the doctor."
"No shit, Sherlock," Bra snorts, turning back to the sink, and scrubs at a bowl with more vigor than she needs.
"You should tell her to see a doctor," Marron presses, and Bra glares at her in annoyance (she doesn't know why she's annoyed).
"Why do I have to do it?"
Marron gives her a soft, secretive smile as she hops off the counter. "Because she listens to you."
Before Bra can ask what she means, the door of their apartment opens, and Pan comes in, sopping wet, with a bruise on her cheekbone. Bra drops the spatula she'd been holding, and runs to her.
"What the fuck happened to you?" Bra all but screeches, grabbing Pan's face in her hands.
Pan flinches and tugs Bra's hands away, clicking her tongue in annoyance. "Bitch, there's soap on your hands."
"Is that what's important right now?" Pan rolls her eyes and flops down on the couch, her bags dumped at her feet.
"I got hit," Pan explains, and upon seeing Bra's stricken expression, she scrambles to explain. "With a ball. During practice, Bra. I didn't get punched."
"What the fuck?" Because really, what the fuck? It was (unfortunately) well known around campus that Pan was the ace on the volleyball team. It was inconceivable that she'd get hit with a ball.
"I... couldn't see it," Pan says, as though it pains her to say it. Marron nudges Bra in the stomach, having suddenly appeared again, and gives her a meaningful look.
👓
Apparently, everyone else has tried to get Pan to go to the doctor already. By everyone, it's really just Marron, Uub, Goten, and Trunks.
It wasn't until Bra shoved Pan down on the couch and forced her to call her doctor to make an appointment that Pan actually did it. She doesn't really know why. Maybe she's just intimidating when she's scared out of her mind for her friend.
"I could have driven myself," Pan mumbles from the passenger seat of her beat up red Jeep. She'd inherited it from her mom, it was her first car, and Bra remembers going out for lunch as seniors, feeling on top of the world because they could go further than four blocks for food and still make it back on time for class.
When Bra got her license, Pan had insisted it was theirs to share, even though Bra almost wrecked it at a parking lot. Twice. Not to mention that her parents had the money to buy, like, 20 of Pan's old jeeps. But the gesture was sweet.
"Yeah and then you would be at the hospital for broken bones. If you can't see a fucking death trap ball, how are you supposed to see oncoming traffic, huh?"
Pan has no response to this, so she pouts and crosses her arms, sinking lower into the seat. Bra rolls her eyes and stares at the road ahead.
"You look like you're going to go get your arm chopped off. It's just the doctors."
Pan mumbles something, sounding close to a whine, but Bra doesn't hear it over the hum of the radio, playing some heavy metal shit that Pan likes so much. Bra desperately wants to plug in her aux to play some Twice, but holds back. "What? I didn't catch that."
Pan sniffs indignantly, looking more like a child than the golden star athlete that the school apparently thinks she is. Bra resists the urge to pinch her cheeks and coo. "I said, what if they have to give me a shot?"
Bra spares her a glance. "They'll probably have to give you a shot," she says, trying to maintain a straight face when Pan looks at her in horror. "My friend is doing her residency right now and she talks to me about the stuff she has to do sometimes, so I know. They might have to draw blood too."
"Oh my god, Bra. Turn the car around. Right now. I'm not going in there. You can't make me."
At that, Bra can't hold back her snicker, which breaks out into a full-out cackle.
Pan slumps back into her seat.
"Wow, fuck you."
"I'm just messing around. You're all vaccinated, right?"
Pan nods slowly, eyes unsure, clearly debating whether to trust Bra. "Its not even flu season. You won't need a shot. Relax, girl."
Pan sighs in relief.
"Unless..."
"Oh, fuck you." Pan scoffs, flinging a hair tie at the side of Bra's head.
"I'm driving!"
👓
"Pan Son?"
Both Pan and Bra look up at the nurse from where they'd huddled over Pan's phone, playing Subway Surfers. It ruins their run. The nurse smiles at them both, and they stand up in unison.
"Come on in, Pan," the nurse beckons, holding the door open. Pan hesitates, looking at Bra.
"Is it okay if I come with her?" Bra asks. The nurse looks between them, unsure, then nods. Bra ruffles Pan's shaggy hair, pushing her forward.
Bra lingers at Pan's side while she has her temperature and blood pressure checked. The nurse asks her symptoms, and Bra chews her lip nervously, listening as Pan explains that she's having a hard time seeing things, that she's having headaches and nausea.
What Bra doesn't mention to Pan is that she'd done some research on her symptoms the night before. WebMD had told her that all the signs pointed towards some sort of neurological disease. It was possible that there was a tumor pressing down on a region of Pan's brain, causing the nausea, the vision changes, the headaches. Bra almost throws up, and when Pan comes out of the shower, she's the one to ask whether Bra is okay.
Bra cleared her browser history and prayed to anyone that would listen. Pan had always been the religious one between them, but Bra finds herself seeking out a Higher Power, wishing desperately that there's nothing wrong with her best friend.
They're taken to a private room. Bra sits at the side, watching Pan swing her legs as she sits on the bed.
"You're being quiet and it's making me nervous," Pan finally says, looking at Bra.
"I'm just thinking," Bra assures. Pan looks unconvinced, but she gets cut off as the door opens.
A tall, dark skinned doctor comes in, all dimpled smiles. "Hey there, I'm Dr. Dende. You must be Pan, and--" He startles when he sees Bra sitting in the corner. He waves.
"That's Bra, my best friend," Pan says. "Just pretend she's not there. That's what I always do."
Haha, funny, Bra mouths, and Dr. Dende gives them an amused smile as he goes over to the sink to wash his hands.
"So Pan, what seems to be the problem today?"
Bra listens carefully as Pan lists out her symptoms again. Dr. Dende nods thoughtfully, before taking out his stethoscope. He goes through the regular motions of a check-up, before switching the lights in the room off, and fiddling with a projector in the room. Bra watches as a slide appears on the wall opposite, the kind she sees at her optometrist, with lines of random letters in decreasing size.
"Pan, what's the smallest line you can read?" Dr. Dende asks. Pan squints at the projection, and frowns.
"I can't read any of it."
Dr. Dende hums, keeping his face carefully blank. Bra doesn't know how he can look so calm when this is clearly a dire situation. What if Pan is going blind? What if she has a tumor pressing down on her brain and she needs surgery and can't live a normal life anymore? Would Bra need special training to become a caretaker?
During the next slide, Pan has a hard time reading the first two lines, and Bra feels like crying, because her friend is clearly struggling, and there's nothing she can do about it.
"Okay, kiddo. I think I know what's wrong," Dr. Dende says, going over to switch the lights on again. He sits on the stool next to Pan. "Myopia."
Bra gasps loudly before she can help herself. She covers her mouth and fights the tears. "She's going blind?"
Dr. Dende purses his lips, clearly trying not to smile. Bra wants to punch her in the face.
"Myopia is just a fancy word for near-sightedness." Pan's face is blank.
"I'm sorry?"
"You'll probably need glasses. I can refer you to the optometrist so we can figure out your exact prescription."
Dr. Dende pushes himself on the stool towards the computer and types into it, ignoring the two girls looking at each other, mouths wide open in shock.
"You're a student right? So you'll probably want to get this taken care of quickly. Can't imagine classes are much fun if you can't see what's on the board."
Pan laughs in joyous relief and nods vigorously. Bra slumps in her seat, as if all the willpower in her body had just drained away, and feels a little dizzy.
The rest of the appointment passes by quickly, and Pan makes an appointment to see an optometrist the next day. Before Bra knows it, they're walking out of the hospital.
"Bra... can you believe this? I only need glasses!" Pan is all but skipping, as though this whole situation hadn't made Bra start to grey prematurely.
"It's because your dumbass keeps playing Animal Crossing after I turn off the lights," Bra hisses, shoving Pan just a tad too hard. Pan stumbles, scowling at her, but Bra can't feel guilty. She won't feel guilty, not after what Pan had just put her through. Pan retaliates by sticking her finger in her mouth and chases Bra around the parking lot with her wet finger.
"I think I'd look cute with glasses, right?" Pan asks as they put on their seatbelts in the car. Bra looks at her incredulously, before bursting out into shrieking laughter.
"You'll look even uglier than before, Four Eyes," Bra taunts. Pan pinches her on the arm.
"Shut up, I'll look cute."
👓
"When's Pan getting back?" Marron asks, taking a large bite of her burrito. Bra sends Pan a quick text, and gets a response a few seconds later.
From: pan-cakes <3
To: wonderbra
just parked. eta 6
"She'll be here in ten minutes," she reports (Pan is always late), before going to the stopwatch app and starting it, fully prepared to prove a point when she takes more than six minutes.
"So she's really getting glasses then?" Uub asks, poking at his rice bowl. Bra nods.
"She's gonna look like a fucking grandpa. I'm ready for it."
"She's going to look like Gohan," Goten snorts, the only time he's acknowledged the conversation going on around him. Trunks is no better, clearly more interested in whatever Goten is playing on his Switch than the no-doubt major social embarrassment that is about to go down. As is the way of men in their late 20s.
Bra had taken the liberty of googling as many glasses puns as she could, and was ready to pull them out at every given opportunity to exasperate Pan. She was really looking forward to it.
"Pan said she looked cute though?" Marron tilts her head inquiringly at Bra.
"Pan thought she looked good in that eyesore of a sweater ChiChi gave her."
Marron frowns. "She was 5."
Bra waves her off and looks down at her own burrito bowl. She's midbite when she hears Pan call out to them.
"Hey guys!" Pan says from behind Bra and Bra swallows her bite, grinning, a bad pun on the tip of her tongue. But when she actually sees Pan, her mouth dries up.
Why are birds suddenly chirping? Why is every single romantic drama OST playing in Bra's head right now? She blinks rapidly, because now there are hearts too.
"Oh! Pan! You look super pretty!" Bra hears Marron saying, and she feels like pretty is a gross understatement, because Pan in glasses is... regal, ethereal, celestial... like an angel descended from the heavens to bless mortals with her presence.
Pan's frames are black, not quite square, not quite circular, and they fit her face nicely. Bra didn't know this was how Pan was going to look. When they'd gone to the optometrist, they'd spent all their time goofing off, trying on the ugliest frames they could find and laughed at each other. Bra had just assumed...
"What do you guys think?" Pan asks, a little shy. She brushed her hair today instead of her normal finger-and-ruffle technique. It frames her face perfectly and it's almost unreal how well the glasses compliment her, making her look mature, chic, absolutely lovely, like everything Bra has ever wanted in life.
Bra barely registers her friends chattering excitedly, complimenting Pan on the obvious– she looks good, and the glasses suit her perfectly. But Bra is too busy gaping at Pan, a high-pitched noise getting louder and louder in her ears.
"Bra?" Pan looks at Bra expectantly, and she snaps out of her reverie, looking at her friends. Clearly they're all waiting for her to say something too. Bra swallows, and wonders what will come out of her mouth now that her barely-there filter has been totally destroyed by Pan's sudden good looks.
What Bra does next is this:
"Pfffft--" Bra bursts out into high-pitched, nervous laughter, and points at Pan. "You look like--" He breaks out into another fit of laughter. "You look like fucking... Harry Potter! Pan Potter! Where's your wand?" Bra blabbers, clapping her hands like she's on the verge of hysterics. Her friends look at her oddly, and Pan visibly deflates.
"Jeez, Bra," Pan mumbles, sliding into the seat next to her and their shoulders brush. When Bra feels the contact, her spine goes ramrod straight and she feels the sudden urge to vomit.
"I... I gotta go!" Bra yelps suddenly, getting up and banging her knee on the table, but she's too overwhelmed to register the pain. Pan looks at her in concern, and Bra just laughs again, it sounds strangled and fake. Like when she's doing her customer service voice with boys but if someone was holding a gun to her head.
Bra can't get out of the cafeteria fast enough.
👓
In hindsight, Bra really should have seen this coming. It had been a question Marron asked once, a few years ago when they'd all just started becoming friends after she'd moved to the city.
"What's it like... being best friends with the great Pan Son?" Marron had whispered over a late night selfcare session. They'd just put their sheet masks on.
Bra had just blinked at her. "What's so great about her?"
Marron leans back, clearly shocked. "What do you mean? She's like... the coolest person ever? And she's strong and attractive and athletic? Even I had a crush on her when I first methier! Haven't you ever like... you know... felt anything?"
Bra had laughed in Marron's face that time, because Pan Son is Bra's best friend in the whole world, the girl who ate dog food once in 2nd grade because Bra called her a chicken, the girl who got food poisoning and threw up on her crush's shoes on Valentine’s Day when they were in middle school. Bra had been there for every embarrassing moment of Pan's life. It was impossible that underneath all the awkward clumsiness, and twenty one years of embarrassment, that Bra could find Pan even remotely attractive.
And yet, here she is, holed up in her room, about to start crying, because when did Pan get so.. grown up? When did all those awkward limbs become strong arms and powerful thighs? When did Pan change? It felt like she'd become a different person right under Bra's nose, and it's all because of those stupid glasses.
"Bra?"
Bra tries not to yelp, because Marron is in front of her again, a knowing look in her eyes.
"God, Marron, stop doing that," Bra wheezes. Marron just shrugs, sitting on Bra's bed, across from her.
"What happened to you at lunch?"
For a brief moment, Bra considers lying. Then, she remembers that Marron is the most perceptive person in their friend group, even if Bra is a great liar.
"Pan's glasses," she chooses to say, hoping it'll be vague enough. Marron narrows her eyes at the other, inspecting her face, and Bra is so sure she can read between the lines.
"Ah..." Marron murmurs, and she pats Bra's thigh. "You've finally had your spiritual awakening, then?"
Bra looks at Marron in annoyance. "What does that even mean?"
"You finally realized you're in love with Pan?"
Bra falls off the bed this time, not realizing how close she is to the edge of it in her desperate attempt to get away from Marron (and the truth).
"I'm what?" Bra's heart hammers violently against her ribcage, and Marron peers down at her like she didn't just drop the biggest bombshell of the century. "I am not! Absolutely not!"
"It's funny. I didn't think it'd be Pan getting glasses that snapped you out of it," Marron mumbles to herself, as though Bra isn't right there and can hear every word.
"I have no fucking clue what you're talking about. Go take a hike off a fucking cliff, Marron," Bra hisses.
Marron just tuts, shaking her head as if in pity. "It's so obvious. The only person who hasn't figured it out is Pan, and that's because she's just as much an idiot as you."
Bra wants to crawl into a hole and never come out. There's no way.
But she'd never been good at denial, and she's a shitty liar to herself. Marron smiles when Bra pales, watching the realization dawn on her. She slides off the bed.
"Uub owes me twenty dollars. He thought it would take longer for you to figure it out.
Bra reaches out to grab Marron's wrist. "Don't tell anyone. Please."
Marron must take pity on her, because she smiles, sympathetic this time, and nods. "But I'm putting this on the google calendar. I still won the bet." She says, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder with her free hand. Then, she opens her mouth again as if to speak, she hesitates.
"You've already ruined my life, just say whatever else you have to say," Bra says, miserable.
Marron bites his lip. "Would it kill you to be a little nicer to Pan? I know you guys have your weird relationship and all but she seemed really down after you left. She's not bulletproof."
Bra lies down on the floor, not moving after Marron leaves, closing the door behind her. She stares up at the ceiling, trying to process everything. Was she really that mean to Pan? She didn't mean to be, she just had a cruel way of joking. They'd known each other since birth, they're long past the point of formalities. That's just how they were. Pan and Bra. Bra and Pan.
But the thought of hurting Pan, even on accident, makes Bra's stomach coil painfully. Pan had already been through so much. She was so much more sensitive than she usually let on; the only person she was immune to was Bra. That was something she treasured, the fact that she could say anything to Pan, and Pan would understand.
Bra hears the front door opening, and she jolts up, diving into bed and covering her head with her fluffy pink blanket.
Pan walks in seconds later, opening the door noisily before seeing Bra's (allegedly) sleeping form. "Idiot left the lights on again," Pan mumbles to herself before flicking the switch. Bra fights the smile as Pan tiptoes around the room, banging into the corner of her desk and whispering out expletives, clearly trying not to wake Bra. It makes warmth bloom in her chest, despite all the butterflies.
She stays still, even while Pan goes to shower. She stays still when Pan comes out, ruffling through their closet for pajamas. She stays still even when she feels Pan lifting up her blanket, slipping into bed and wrapping her arms around Bra.
Pan's hair is still wet, and it tickles Bra's cheek when Pan leans in to press her lips against her hair. The situation is familiar, and despite Bra's newfound crisis, Pan's smell-- a mix of perfume, shampoo, and the ever-present smell of volleyball leather on her skin-- calms Bra's heart.
She stirs, trying her best to look like she's just risen from sleep. Pan goes still.
"Oh, Bra, did I wake you? I'm sorry."
Bra rubs her eyes. Did she take off her makeup? "Hm? 'S okay." Pan presses closer, wrapping her arms around Bra's waist, tangling their legs together. Her skin is warm and soft from the shower, and there's just something about this that makes Bra feel like despite everything, the world is good. Her life is good, as long as she has Pan.
They'd been doing this since middle school. Pan always had trouble sleeping, and life at her home had always been chaotic. Bra smelled nice, according to Pan. And she had a warmer blanket, and a more comfortable bed. So she'd often sneak out of her own house and sleep over at Bra's. Pan had always been the more sensitive one of the two, even if she tried not to act like it. Bra had always protected Pan. This is just the way it has always been.
And yet, Bra wonders, when did being in Pan's arms become the definition of safety? When did Pan become the most perfect big spoon, making Bra feel small and soft and protected? (Even when Pan herself was a good head shorter.) When had everything turned on its head and Pan had gone ahead and grown up?
"Bra..." Pan whispers after a moment, clearly hesitant to keep her friend awake.
Bra hums, trying to stay calm despite the vortex of questions spinning in her mind, confusing her, making her ache and feel nostalgic for things she's too young to long for.
"Are my glasses... really that bad?"
("She's not bulletproof.")
Marron's words echo in Bra's mind, and her heart twists. She turns in Pan's arms, meeting Pan's hesitant eyes.
"... Everyone was saying you look good in them. Why would you think otherwise?" Pan's eyes drop.
"Well... yeah. But... you. You didn't..."
And Pan sounds so sad, Bra might just cry. She brings her hands up to stroke Pan's cheek. "Hey... no. You know I'm just kidding. The glasses look great. You're super.. p-pretty," Bra manages to choke out, and plasters on the most sincere smile she can.
"Really?" And oh, Pan is so radiant when she smiles. Were her dimples always that cute?
"Of course. I just have to be mean to you because it's my job." And Pan just beams, because she's always been so easy to please with Bra. It makes her wonder why she's always giving Pan a hard time, when making her smile is infinitely more fulfilling. "I'm sorry if I made you feel bad."
Pan shakes her head. "It's okay. I know you never mean it. I'm going to get you back though."
Bra smiles. Feelings aside, Pan truly is her other half. The only one to keep up with her and keep her on her toes. She needs Pan in her life, she can't imagine one without her.
Bra scoots them closer so she can bump their foreheads, and Pan instinctively tucks her head into Bra's neck, throwing her leg over her waist. Bra wraps her arms around Pan, and his mind is finally quiet enough to let him sleep.
Like puzzle pieces, they fit together so perfectly.
👓
Coming to Pan's games are even more painful for Bra, because it seems that Pan has her own fan club, and they all happen to be totally obnoxious. That, and the small situation of Pan in tiny shorts and the way she gathers up her short hair into what barely passes as a ponytail and exposes her undercut.
It's one of the final games of the year, and Bra, Marron, and Uub had all come to cheer on Pan. They'd made large, obnoxious signs and come up with fan chants the night before. Bra had made her sign extra large and extra sparkly, so there was no way Pan wouldn't see it. She's totally prepared.
What she isn't prepared for is Pan, diving to the ground to save the ball, sending the ball back in the air with way too much power to be normal. She isn't prepared for when Pan cheers and lifts her shirt to wipe the sweat from her forehead, exposing her toned stomach.
Bra yelps and drops her sign.
"What the fuck..." Marron hisses, stepping out of the way in time for Bra's sign to clatter to the floor. She stares, mouth agape, as Pan turns around, and wow, Pan has a totally cute butt, and really nice back muscles. Bra head twitches in pain, this wasn't what she signed up for.
"Just leave her," Marron says, holding her hand up as Uub tries to ask what's wrong. "It's too late for her,"
Bra eventually picks up her sign off of the ground, and her knees wobble as she stands back up. Was this what it was like to have a hot best friend?
Suddenly, a few people in front scream, making Bra jump. She turns to glare, notices Colm and Note and that ugly green monster in her gut is out.
"Oh god, look at Pan," one of the girls sighs, watching as Pan converses with her teammates, helping each other wrap bruises and scrapes.
Bra tries valiantly to ignore the group behind her, whining about how attractive Pan is. She sighs, before lifting up her sign, effectively obstructing the view of the Pan Son Fan Club.
She feels a tap on her shoulder, and she turns around, with the most fake smile she can muster. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah, your sign is blocking our view. We can't see anything."
"Oh really? I am so sorry," Bra drawls, lowering the poster. She spends the whole game putting up the poster every time Pan makes a goal, and she knows she'll be lulled into a peaceful sleep tonight from the satisfaction of hearing annoyed screeching from behind him.
"You're just about the pettiest person I've ever met in my life," Marron says, shaking her head and smiling.
Bra flicks her lavender hair behind her shoulder; the surrounding area is bathed in the smell of gardenia, jasmine, and oranges. "I try my best." And in Bra's defense, it's a pretty great poster. It'd be a shame if no one saw it. It's a glittery silver and rose gold, covered in hearts, saying Smash 'em all, Pan! in neon pink puffy paint and a picture of baby Pan in a diaper that Goten had sent Bra last week, for exactly this purpose.
When the game ends, Bra pats herself on the back for a job well done.
"Imagine what it'd be like to date her," Note sighs. "She'd be totally smooth and charming, don't you think?"
Bra rolls her eyes, and can't help but snort. Loudly.
"Is there something you want to say?" Note asks. Bra smiles.
"Have you even seen her? She can barely walk on a flat surface without tripping."
Both Colm and Note let out affronted gasps. "How could you even say something like that? Pan is perfect." And well, Bra can't exactly argue with that one. "It's not like you're dating her."
Bra opens her mouth to say something unsavory, but both of them gasp, backs straightening up.
"Oh, Pan! Hi! You were so amazing out there," Colm gushes. Bra turns around to see Pan standing in front of Bra's section of the bleachers, wrapped up in her hoodie. She smiles and blushes a little. That nerd.
But then, Pan looks at Bra, and her smile widens tenfold. "Bra! Did you see me?" And Bra's ice cold heart totally melts. She smiles and hops down the bleachers.
"Course I did, dork."
Pan beams at her, hair flopping down over her eyes, so Bra pushes it back. Vaguely, she hears Colm and Note gasping, but she can't think about them. Not when she's standing in front of Pan, staring down into her sparkly, warm brown eyes.
"Did you bring my glasses?" Pan asks. Bra raises an eyebrow, but nods, taking the glasses case out of her purse. She left it on top of everything, so they couldn't possibly get crushed. "My contacts were bugging me so I took them out," Pan admits sheepishly, and dear lord have mercy, that's cute. Pan was still having trouble adjusting to contacts, even though she needed them in order to play. Bra had gotten into the habit of carrying Pan's glasses around, along with a bottle of contact solution, just in case Pan's eyes got irritated.
Bra takes Pan's glasses out and slides them onto her face. "There we go," she smiles, and Pan grins back at her. "Go take a shower and change. We'll go get hotpot, my treat."
Pan is practically vibrating with energy. "You're the best, Bra." She playfully punches Bra in the shoulder, before turning around and heading for the locker rooms.
Bra smiles, heart fluttering. And because she's petty, she turns around and sticks her tongue out at the Pan Son Fan Club. Why would Pan need a whole group of weirdos following her when she had Bra?
👓
Bra isn't really a fan of parties. When she explains this to new people, they're often taken aback. Bra is wild, loud, and funny. On the rare occasion that she shows up at a party, she's the life of it. She draws attention, it's what she does.
But she doesn't like them, not really. Mostly because Pan always seems so out of her element whenever they go out, like she doesn't know how to act around all these people she doesn't know, but they all think they know her.
Tonight, it's Bra who feels out of her depth. She's standing in the kitchen, talking with Pan, eating Hot Cheetos, and trying desperately not to reach for the raspberry vodka near her elbow.
Being drunk would make things a lot less painful, because Pan just looks so perfect today, and maybe if her face was blurred by the haze of alcohol, Bra wouldn't have such a hard time.
Pan's wearing her glasses again, those godforsaken black frames that drive Bra to the edge of insanity every time she wears them, because they remind her that Pan is grown up now. That she's both beautiful and handsome, clumsy and calculated, cute and dangerously attractive, all at once. Her hair is it's normal shaggy mess, held together by a light blue bandana, bangs hanging over her forehead. She's also wearing the dark grey Kill Bill shirt Bra bought her last Christmas that was two sizes too big.
Bra desperately wants to kiss her, and this is precisely why she needs to stay away from alcohol. If she's drunk, there's no telling what she'll do to go ahead and fuck up a perfect, beautiful friendship. She's not ready to lose Pan like that.
"Pan, is that you?" Bra is pulled out of the conversation when comes into the kitchen. Objectively, Koeun is gorgeous. She's tall and tan and pretty, and has long, jet black hair, and a lovely smile. She's an athlete like Pan, and they seem to suit each other. Her stomach twists.
"Oh, Kale, hey!" Pan greets her excitedly, like a puppy. Kale smiles politely at Bra in acknowledgement, and Bra musters up all of her willpower to smile back and not dunk her head into the bowl of salsa in front of her.
Pan is more confident today, probably because she's surrounded by her friends and teammates. Yesterday had been the last game of the season, and they'd kept their winning streak. The team had decided to have a party, and Pan had dragged Bra along.
Bra watches Pan and Kale chat happily, feeling out of the loop, and more like an outsider than she already is. It's been months since she'd realized her crush, months of reading too much into words and actions that were supposed to be normal, of feeling her heart skip whenever Pan touched her or smiled at her. Bra is so so tired.
"I'm just gonna..." Bra starts, then stops when she realizes Pan isn't listening. She sighs, feeling unreasonably hurt, and leaves the kitchen. She bumps into someone almost immediately, and when she looks up, she's greeted by Poperu, one of Pan's teammates.
"Oh, Bra, hey," Poperu drawls, clearly pretty drunk. Bra flushes a little, because Poperu is looking at him with keen, unveiled interest, and while it been a long time since anyone looked at her like that; it's partially satisfying, even though it's from the wrong person.
"Hey, Poperu."
"I'm glad you made it. Thought Pan was gonna keep you locked in the apartment or something," Poperu says wryly. It was common knowledge that Pan was protective of Bra, and Uub had once informed her that Pan was infamous for having "talks" with anyone who spent too long looking at Bra. Pan is a reasonable vice captain most of the time, except when it comes to her best friend, apparently. It had never bothered Bra until now. It’s not like she was interested anyway. But now…
"Do you wanna dance, Poperu?"
Poperu smirks. "Thought you'd never ask."
👓
Poperu is too nice for his own good, Bra thinks. The older can tell Bra isn't looking for anything but a distraction, and he seems okay with that. They dance for a good part of the night, and Poperu never crosses any lines. He just holds Bra close and keeps his eyes on her.
"Do you think I'm attractive?" Bra asks, breathless, well into their fifth song.
Poperu keeps a steady grip on Bra's hips, and smiles, mostly sober now. "Of course. Like, half the team is in love with you, but we're all scared of Pan."
That's nice of him to say, Bra thinks to herself, then says it out loud. Poperu grins. "You deserve to hear it."
Again, it's only partially satisfying. It's nice to know she's attractive. She already knows, she puts a lot of effort into the way she presents to the world. She puts a lot of effort into making sure she looks good even when she's not her normal high standard of presentable, if her skincare collection has anything to say about it. Bra loves attention, validation. But it's like an itch, that no matter how much she scratches, she can't get rid of it. She knows, in the back of her mind, that it's because she's not hearing it from the person she really wants.
Poperu seems to realize this too. "You should tell her, you know."
Bra looks at him in alarm. "Am I that obvious?" Poperu laughs.
"To everyone but Pan. It's chill though."
Bra leans her head on Poperu's shoulder and groans. "This is so embarrassing."
"Don't be. I got to dance with the prettiest girl I know, even though she's in love with someone else."
Bra whines into his chest, and Poperu vibrates with laughter. "And speak of the devil." Bra lifts her head up and looks at Poperu in confusion.
"Bra!" She freezes and Poperu sighs, letting his hands slip from Bra's hips. Bra turns to see Pan stomping through the crowded dance floor, headed in their direction, and the scowl on her face is deeper than Bra has ever seen before.
When Pan stops in front of them, it's clear she's drank a little bit. She had a comically low alcohol tolerance, but she'd always been a sleepy, calm drunk. The black vortex of her eyes, the set of her jaw, this is all new. Bra hasn't seen Pan this angry since they were preteens.
"Pan--" Bra starts, but Pan pushes past her to poke Poperu on the chest.
"I told you to stay the fuck away from her," Pan hisses, and clearly, Poperu is just as taken aback by the situation, because he puts his arms up. He looks at Bra for help.
"Pan," Bra starts, tugging on Pan's sleeve. Pan shrugs her off and shoves Poperu.
"Don't think I'm gonna let this go," Pan warns, and Poperu keeps his face carefully blank.
"Dude, you're drunk. Maybe you should go home," Poperu says slowly. Pan shoves him back again.
Bra grips Pan's shirt, nails digging into the fabric, her stomach turning. "Pan, I really--"
"Don't tell me what to do," Pan hisses, at no one in particular, and sways a little on her feet. That makes Bra snap. Pan has never acted like this before, and she's scared.
"Pan Son," Bra shrills sharply, and hearing her whole name breaks Pan out of whatever drunken haze she was in. She grips Pan's bicep. "We're going home. Right now."
Pan blinks owlishly at her. Bra smiles at Poperu. "I'm really sorry about this. I'll make her apologize when she's sober." Poperu just shakes his head and smiles, seemingly only amused by the situation. "And thank you for dancing with me when I asked you," Bra grits, giving Pan a pointed look, before dragging her off the dance floor, and out of the house.
It's chilly outside but Bra is not going to go back for her jacket now, stuck to suffer in only her cropped maroon tank top.
The moment they're on the front lawn, Bra spins around to face Pan.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she asks. Pan frowns, still clearly drunk and having a hard time processing. "I was having a good time with him. You didn't have to fucking... shove him around like that!"
"You came to the party with me! Why were you with Poperu instead?"
Bra takes a step closer. "Because, dumbass, you were clearly having a good time with Kale!"
Pan looks at Bra blankly. "You think there's something going on with me and Kale? She's my friend. She has a girlfriend, Bra."
Bra hates the tone Pan is using with her. "Well Poperu is my friend too!" He isn't, but details aren't what Bra cares about right now. "You didn't see me going all crazy fight mode on Kale now did you?" Pan is silent, and Bra crosses her arms. "What does it matter anyway? Why am I not allowed to dance with other people? If I want to dance with someone who's more than a friend? Why are you telling people on the team not to even look at me? It's not like we're dat--"
She's cut off by Pan's lips pressed desperately against hers. She's frozen in shock, kept from falling over with a steady arm around her waist, and another cradling her face.
The kiss only lasts a few seconds, and it takes Pan a moment to realize Bra hasn't responded, so she pulls back.
Bra blinks, feeling her cheeks turn red, gut twisting when Pan's eyes widen in horror. "B-Bra, I--" She stumbles back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I don't-- I don't know what--"
Bra lets out a shaky breath, trying to get any semblance of feeling in her limbs, and hold back the tears brimming her eyes. Her best friend had drunk kissed her in the middle of a fight. And now she looks like she's going to vomit. Of course. Because that's just Bra's luck.
She takes a deep breath, eyes stinging. "You're drunk. I'm cold. Let's go home."
👓
"Wow, don't you look like shit," Uub says, sliding into the seat across from Pan. The cafeteria is pretty empty right now which is nice, Pan needed the quiet for now.
"Thanks," Pan says vacantly, poking at her yogurt parfait and staring out the window. "Bra and I aren't sleeping together anymore, so."
Uub coughs, in the middle of taking a swig of water. Pan stares at him blankly as Uub thumps himself on the chest, turning red in the face. After a minute, he visibly calms down.
"Bra... is... withholding sex?" he asks carefully, and Pan drops her spoon onto the table, bringing vanilla yogurt and granola with it.
"What?" she hisses. "Where the fuck did you-- How the fuck-- What?"
Uub looks at Pan like she's grown another head. "You literally just said you guys aren't sleeping together anymore. In my defense, I didn't know you guys were… you know… in the first place. That's kinda disturbing, Marron lives with you guys. Oh god, don't tell me you guys–"
"We're not fucking!" Pan yells, garnering the attention of other cafeteria patrons. Pan's cheeks heat up and she sinks down into her chair. "We're not fucking," she says, more quietly.
Uub tilts his head. "You sound pretty disappointed about that."
"Shut the fuck up," Pan whines, shoving Uub's arm. "I mean, we usually sleep together. Like in the same bed. Bra's been over at Mai's dorm the last few days."
"So you're saying that you're not sleeping well. Because Bra isn't there with you."
Pan nods. "Yes, exactly."
Uub rests his chin on his palm and shakes his head in disbelief. "Wow. Young love is so complicated. You must have really fucked up if Bra, of all people, isn't talking to you."
Pan stays silent, trying to wrap her mind around what Uub is saying. "I... kissed her," she says, after a minute of silence. "At the party. She was dancing with Poperu and I got so mad. I've never been so angry before. Bra looked so happy with him and I was drunk and it was a mess and then she was angry with me so I kissed her."
Uub blinks at her. "Okay, I'm not Marron the therapist, but let's break this down and figure it out." Pan sighs, feeling a headache coming on. "You were mad that she was dancing with Poperu?"
Pan nods.
Uub narrows his eyes at her. "And why do you think that is?"
Pan's ears burn. "I dunno." She looks down resolutely at her parfait. Half of it is splattered against the table.
"You don't think it was because you were... I dunno. Jealous? Or something?"
"No, what? Why would I be jealous? It's not like we're dat--" She closes her mouth suddenly, because that's exactly what Bra had said that night.
Uub groans, rubbing his temples. "God, how does Marron do this?" he mumbles to himself. Pan tosses her balled up napkin at him. "Is it not painfully obvious to you that you're in love with her?"
"I'm not..." Pan says weakly, but it's a big fat lie and they both know it. She's been in love with Bra since they were kids. The only thing that had changed was her ability to lie to herself about it, to pretend that everything they did platonically was okay with her.
"Okay, let's pretend you're not in love with her," Uub says with air quotes. "You still owe her an apology. You drunk kissed her. And you meddled when you should have been minding your own business. Why would Bra getting close to someone else bother you so much? If you're not gonna commit to her, at least let someone else commit to her. She deserves that much at least."
And of course, Uub is right. He's always right. Bra deserves the entire universe and more. Certainly more than what Pan could ever give her. But Poperu sn't it, the petty part of her brain reminds her. The idea of Bra dating Poperu makes Pan want to rip off her own skin. Why can't she let Bra go?
"Step one, apologize," Uub says, pulling Pan back to their conversation. His phone beeps, and he looks at it, reading the new text message. "Oh, and Marron says to wear your glasses while you're doing it."
👓
From: pan-cakes <3
To: wonderbra
pizza and DCOMs?
Bra curses her weak heart. It had been a few days since she'd talked to Pan, and it's the longest they've gone without speaking, minus the week that Pan ran away after her grandfather died and she didn't contact anyone. She was only 8 and had spent the week hiding in the vast woods behind her grandmother's house.
It's not a situation Bra ever wants to be in, but she can't face Pan, she just can't. Pan kissed hers, he was drunk, it was a mistake. Does she even know that she stomped Bra's heart to pieces?
But she has to face Pan at some point. She just needed some space, because just thinking about Pan makes her want to burst out into pathetic tears. So it's a combination of this, and the fact living with Mai was slowly driving her insane, that makes her pluck up the courage to go back to her apartment.
Pan is setting out soda and snacks on the coffee table when Bra comes in. The look the older gives her is enough to show Bra that she's just as anxious and upset about the whole situation. It makes her feel a little better. And she’s wearing her glasses too, it makes her look cuter and more pitiful.
👓
Weak, weak, weak , Bra’s brain supplies.
Bra strides past Pan to their shared room, not sparing her a glance, because she's a drama queen if nothing else. She dumps her bag on her (their) bed, and takes a deep breath. Everything smells like vanilla and sandalwood, like Pan, and she missed it. She missed cuddling in bed, whispering to each other until they fell asleep. She even missed getting woken up by Pan when she snored too loud.
Her bottom lip quivers. How did things go so wrong? Things would have been so much easier if she had stayed in denial about her feelings. Maybe then, being around Pan wouldn't be so painful.
Bra takes a deep breath and walks back out of the room, plopping down on the couch next to Pan.
"What're we watching, bitch?" she asks, trying to sound like she's okay, like she's not confused and hurt, most of all like she's still not sickeningly in love with her best friend.
"Lemonade Mouth," Pan says, pressing play on the remote.
"You know my heart," she jokes, and Pan chuckles nervously.
The pizza arrives a quarter of the way through the movie. There's extra cheese and olives the way Bra likes, even though Pan hates olives. She eats it with no complaint, and Bra thinks its maybe her way of repenting a little bit.
They barely talk during the movie, which never happens, but Bra isn't in the mood to make snarky commentary, and any reaction Pan could make would feel forced.
It's not until they start singing More Than a Band that Bra bursts out crying. It always makes her emotional when she watches this movie, but today, she's worn out, on edge, and hurting, so it's like a dam breaking, and the tears just start flowing. She lets out an ugly sob before she can muffle it, and Pan startles.
"Bra," Pan chokes out, clearly concerned about Bra's extreme reaction.
Bra lets out a loud wail and covers her mouth, shoving Pan away with her socked feet. "I'm ugly, don't look at me," she sobs.
"Bra," Pan tries again, voice softer this time. She moves towards Bra, but she just shoves the older away.
"No, get away from me! Everything hurts and I'm emotionally vulnerable and embarrassed."
"Why are you embarrassed?" Pan comes closer, but this time, Bra doesn't have enough space to put between them. She grabs a pillow and presses it to her face.
"I'm so ugly when I cry," Bra sobs, voice muffled. Pan tugs at the pillow, bringing it down, and shit, her face is too close right now.
"No you're not," Pan murmurs, wiping the tears gently away from Bra's cheeks. That incites a fresh wave of tears, and Pan lets out a disbelieving laugh. "Why are you crying so much?"
"Because of the song!"
"You're lying. Normally you'd be singing every word."
Bra hiccups, and Pan presses her lips together. "It's because of me, isn't it? Because of what I did at the party?"
Bra stays silent. Her eyes are itching, her chest feels heavy, and there's an unbearable lump in her throat.
"I'm sorry, Bra."
"Sorry for kissing me?" Bra croaks.
Pan has the decency to look bashful. She looks down. "I'm sorry I made you upset. I'm sorry I kept you from having a good time with Poperu. And I'm sorry for being a drunk mess. But…" She takes a shaky breath and looks up. "I'm not sorry about kissing you."
"Huh?"
"Actually... I've wanted to do that since like the third grade probably and honestly I really hate myself because it had to happen while I was drunk and we were fighting and I didn't even ask you if you would be okay with it which was totally a dick move. I get if you don't really want to talk to me after this but I have to know that I was honest with you."
Bra doesn't know how to respond to this word vomit, and Pan clearly isn't done, so she stays silent.
"Bra. I've liked you since we were kids and I thought it would be okay, as long as we could be friends, and that I could stay by your side. But it's really hard, pretending it's okay, especially when I imagine you with someone else. I know that's shitty and possessive and unfair, but that's the truth. That's how I feel. I just need you to know. You're welcome to burn my lucky jersey if it'll make you feel better."
Pan looks at her with her wide, pitiful eyes, and Bra doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. So she does the next best thing:
"You fucking jerk," Bra whines, kicking Pan off the couch, and she lands in a heap on the ground. "You can't go around saying shit like that! What the fuck? Do you know how long I've been pining after you? And you had to go and act like a dick and then fucking... confess to me after I cried my eyes out over a fucking DCOM? Do you know how embarrassing this is?"
Pan gapes up at her, bewildered. "Bra--"
"No! Shut up! How dare you! You-- You get up right now and kiss me. Right this fucking second. What the fuck are you doing on the ground? Fucking asshole--"
And then Pan is up, scrambling back onto the couch and leaning in, kissing Bra like her life depends on it.
Bra hiccups into the kiss, and Pan smiles, pressing in closer, closer, closer. Bra is rendered an even bigger mess than before, and it’s still all because of Pan Son.
"Oh what the fuck, get a room!" Bra and Pan jump apart to face Marron, who is standing at the doorstep, armed with bags of groceries. "Unbelievable." She hauls them in, clearly deciding against asking for help. She walks away muttering about " kids these days ".
Bra and Pan stare at each other, and Pan's cheeks are so pink that Bra wants to reach out and pinch them. And since they're kind of... dating? Bra figures why the hell not and reaches out, taking Pan's cheeks between her fingers.
"So does this mean you'll come back to our room?" Pan asks. They've decided to watch Halloweentown next, and Bra is not ashamed to say she's half in Pan's lap (but where the hell else would she be?).
"Yeah. But don't get any funny ideas. I don't put out on the first date."
Pan's chest rumbles with laughter, because that's so typically Bra, and she missed her best friend (girlfriend? soul mate?) so much.
"Don't worry. I'll wine and dine you first. I'm a gentleman, okay?"
Bra huffs. "I don't even like wine."
"I know, Miss Fruity Cocktails." Pan laughs. "They have this sparkling grape juice at the store now though. It's pretty good."
"Oh shit no way? Let's try it."
Maybe those glasses were the best thing to ever happen to Bra, aside from the amazing girlfriend she has now. But, thinking about it, she'd had her all along.
The Pan Son Fan Club was going to lose their minds.