Work Text:
Ryujin’s about sixty seconds from exploding, right here on set, in front of the whole crew, when yet another headache arrives.
“I’m not dealing with it,” she says, voice monotonous and strained, to the poor runner with the misfortune of delivering the news.
And yet, five minutes later, she finds herself, exasperated to no end, knocking on the dressing room door.
Someone lets her in with haste. Gravity of the situation and all, she supposes, brushing right past them, straight inside. This day has already been a compilation of how-can-everything-go-wrong moments, an extended exercise in patience Ryujin doesn’t have. And now—
“Where was she last seen,” Ryujin barks out to the nearest crew members, ignoring the random mess of makeup artists and miscellaneous folks scattered about.
Everyone shakes their heads, anxious and quick. Last Ryujin heard she was on her way to the dressing room to check on the readiness of the idols, then set them up for individual test shots in front of the cameras, but now she’s nowhere to be found. God, Ryujin knows Jimin’s good at her job, but if she isn’t a pain in the ass sometimes.
She sighs, does some breathing exercises to calm her down while trying not to count the tens of minutes behind schedule they are and the dollars that’s going to cost them. Then, a tug at her wrist: some girl is trying to get her attention while everyone else has gone back to panicked searching.
She’s got a sly smirk on her face. Face made up nice, hair perfectly sculpted. One of the idols on for today, by the looks of it.
“I think I know where she went.”
Three minutes later, when they find her making out with one of the other idol girls in a closet down the hall, Ryujin is both relieved as hell and the most murderous she’s ever felt.
Jimin looks smug and apologetic all at once, and the idol girl doesn’t seem fazed—clearly it’s not her first time in this situation.
“Sorry, boss,” she says, detaching herself from the other girl, who sends her a wink as she exits the closet.
Ryujin shakes her head. “Just get to the goddamn set and get things started right now or else,” she grits through her teeth, and the two scurry off.
She turns to idol girl number one. “How’d you know they’d be in there?”
Idol girl smiles, a bit coquettish, just a little bit blinding. “Jisu, love her and all, is too much of a flirt for her own good.”
Somehow she has the feeling of some kind of universal irony impending upon her. But, regardless of all that and her better senses, she sticks out her hand in greeting.
“I’m Ryujin,” she says.
She gets a hand back, along with a smile. “Yeji.”
This job’s going to be the death of her.
The soju is straight from the fridge, glass frosted. It sloshes in the shot glass on the way up to Ryujin’s mouth, where she still cringes a bit when it hits her taste buds. After, what, five years of drinking, especially on regular crew outings during long shoots, she still hasn’t gotten any better at swallowing down bitterness.
“I don’t know how you drink that,” says Ryujin, faced scrunched up at the tall glass opposite her.
Yeji chugs down half her beer in no time. “Because it’s good.”
Ryujin shakes her head. “No, it’s gross. Never would’ve pegged you for a beer drinker, also.”
Yeji laughs, mirth in her eyes. “What can I say? I can’t beat all the stereotypes.”
Ryujin raises an eyebrow at that.
Thank god for small little pochas near filming sites, and ones with discreet owners, no less. At something like three degrees celsius, their breath hanging in the air with each exhale, the world moves white around the tent, little heater next to them working overtime.
“So what got you into being an idol?”
Yeji smiles at the question, cheeks still red from the cold outside. “I was always performing as a kid. Singing, dancing, all of it. I tried to host my own variety show during every family gathering because I saw Yoo Jae Seok doing it and thought he was the coolest. Then I heard about auditions from some girl in my middle school class, and now I’m here.”
Whistling, Ryujin pours herself another drink. “So you were born for it, basically. Damn.”
“And what about you? What got you here?”
What got her here? A thousand and one hours of hard, thankless work. Parents who didn’t support her becoming anything but an office worker, practically disowning her for going into “the arts.” Scholarships she won by being at the top of her broadcasting school’s class; jobs she charmed her way into. Carefully constructed networks of people, who she somehow managed to get this head PD gig through on top of all the other stuff.
She shrugs. “I’ve always liked TV. Liked how it made me feel, watching it after a long day. Wanted to be a part of it, to give someone else the ability to finally breathe, laugh during hard times. Plus it let me be creative and be in charge, which was a win for me.”
There’s silence for a minute as Yeji just stares at her, eyebrows furrowed, carefully studying Ryujin, who takes another sip to avoid the idol’s burning gaze. Eventually, she lets out a large grin.
“And now we’re both here. Different lives, different stories, same tent.”
Fate and all. Time feels like it’s stopped for a minute as the sentence sinks in. The type of thing Ryujin tries not to think about too hard. It’s becoming a bit difficult.
“Yeah, same tent where we’re currently freezing our asses off. Is this the highest setting the heater goes to?”
Thankfully, Yeji lets the conversation slip into something else after Ryujin steers it away from that open space it veered towards. Ryujin’s grateful.
There’s a specific coffee shop that Ryujin always goes to before shoots. It’s right near the lot; it’s extremely pretty inside, in that aesthetically pleasing way that Ryujin’s a complete sucker for; and the coffee hits, of course. And they don’t charge a full extra dollar for oat milk, either.
It’s been her secret for a while, tucked away behind a park you have to walk through in order to reach it. So she gets there bright and early one morning, right at opening, expecting to be the only one there as usual, only to see…
“Yeji?”
The taller woman turns around. “Shh,” she says, mask on, cap down, the whole nine yards.
Oops. Celebrities and their secrecy. She forgot about all that.
“Sorry. Just—how did you know about this place?”
Yeji smiles. “I used to come here in high school sometimes. Our company used to have their building around here before they moved to a more central area.”
Ryujin is not only shocked but also aghast. She was under the impression that she was pretty much the only one in the world that knew about this place, but that was obviously naive stupidity induced by the long-term lack of sleep her job requires.
“Wow, I’ve never seen anyone from work come in here, like, ever. You have good taste.”
She orders her iced latte as Yeji waits for her. When their drinks come, they step outside.
“Hang on,” says Yeji. “We’ve got a bit of time. How about we just sit here and finish our drinks now?”
It’s a pretty part of the park; mini waterfall going into the pond, little stone benches peppering the sidewalks next to the hooded trees. They sit, start sipping.
“How’s the shoot going for you?” Ryujin asks, genuinely wanting feedback.
“It’s been really great,” says Yeji. “That’s certainly in no little part to you.”
Ryujin lips quirk up involuntarily. “Aw, thanks. But seriously—I really want to make this the best experience for everyone involved. If you see anything that you think could be going better one way or another, let me know and I’ll be happy to change some things around.”
Yeji looks surprised. “Wow, PDs don’t usually ask me things like that. You’re kind of special, huh.”
“Well, I mean, the truth is—this is my first time being head producer on a project, like, ever. I’m really excited but also, yanno, extremely anxious or whatever.” Ryujin sips her coffee. “That’s why I was so tightly wound on that first day. I’m not used to all this still and I really, really want to make it good.”
Yeji’s staring intently at her. She has some weird, supernatural power where Ryujin feels so at ease around her she just starts spilling her internal monologue, apparently.
“No, seriously, you’ve been doing a great job so far. I never would’ve been able to tell it’s your first time leading all of this. Are you liking it so far?”
Hm. Ryujin ponders for a minute. “Yeah, actually. It is the type of thing I like doing for sure, which is why I feel so lucky I landed it so young. I’m not really used to working with idols and all that though, no offense—my dream job is actually a longer term variety show with more established hosts. There’s this one that the company has planned for about a month and a half from now that I would absolutely kill to be on. Even just as, like, a janitor or something, but I would die for head PD.”
This is all useless information for Yeji, she’s sure, but the idol is nodding along as if it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever heard.
“You would kill something like that, I’m sure,” she says. “Now, c’mon. Let’s get to the studio so you can keep up your good work.”
Ryujin doesn’t know why everything feels so comfortable with Yeji, or how they somehow ended up at the same hidden little coffee shop at the same exact time, but the caffeine hasn’t quite hit yet so she keeps her questions to herself and follows Yeji through the park, through the double doors of the studio, and into the work day.
Yeji, as it seems, has a bad habit of being one of the most generous people alive. It’s a long shoot—a full two weeks, given it’s one of those specials as opposed to the regular show, and every day so far Yeji’s brought in snacks, coffee, anything that tired and overworked television crews could possibly want.
Something is thrown in Ryujin’s lap as she’s checking emails on her phone in the producer chair.
“Ow, hello,” complains Ryujin, before picking up the offending object to see that it’s a box of Choco Song-i. She looks up after reading it to see Yeji, smiling toothily.
“Do you like it?” Yeji asks. “I figured you needed some energy for today.”
It’s a long day today, something Ryujin complained about last night over a quick-turned-kinda-long vending machine run to get various waters and pops and canned coffees for the crew. Alongside slipping in the fact that she’d been craving one of her favorite childhood snacks, sweet tooth in full swing during times of high stress, as usual.
Blushing is not something Ryujin does, and as such, she will not do it. If she were a different person, however, her cheeks might be tinged pink at the gesture.
“It’s exactly what I needed today, God,” she says, tearing it open. She grabs Yeji’s hand, opens the palm, and shakes the first few chocolate mushrooms into it.
“Nooo, it’s supposed to be yours,” Yeji whines, trying to close it, to no avail (maybe Ryujin’s recent gym gains have been worth something).
“Dummy, you have a long day too—we’re here together. Eat some damn mushrooms.”
Finally, Yeji, rolling her eyes, relents. Mushrooms go in hand, then Ryujin’s taking some for herself, savoring the chocolate against the cookie’s crunch.
Plopping into the chair next to her, Yeji sighs. “We’ve only got a few days until the shoot ends.”
Ryujin snorts. “Yeah, I know. I’m praying it comes faster so I can finally get some sleep.”
Then Yeji does these doe eyes that apparently she can do, pouting alongside it. What the hell. “But then I’m not going to see you every day anymore.”
Her heart momentarily stops beating in her chest, but Yeji doesn’t need to know that. “I—there’s ways around that.”
Yeji raises her eyebrows. “Like what?”
Ryujin rolls her eyes, making some faraway attempt to play it cool. “I bet whatever next shoot I book you’re just going to follow me there anyways. So I’ll see you again.”
Yeji honest to God whines, right there in the middle of the set. Ryujin actually feels her cheeks flaming for the first time. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll see you in between that.”
Why does Yeji need to see her every day anyways? It’s not like they hang out that much. Just, like, during breaks on set. And after-shoot drinks. And then sometimes rides home because Yeji doesn’t want to bother Itzy’s driver or something. And then—
Okay, huh. Yeah. Maybe they do hang out a lot. That’s a weird development. Temporary besties with an idol, Ryujin thinks. Her from a month ago never would’ve seen this coming.
Yeji seems like she’s expecting a real answer, so Ryujin takes out her phone, tosses it over to Yeji. “Okay, here. There’s my KakaoTalk. Now you have it for whatever snack-related purposes you could possibly have.”
Adding herself in and then typing something secret, apparently, into her phone, Yeji seems more than pleased. “Done,” she sing-songs, and then gets up.
“I have to go to makeup now,” she tosses over her shoulder at Ryujin. “Enjoy the snacks!”
And when she looks down:
One New Message:
hwang yeji <333: hi ryuddaeng~
hwang yeji <333: now u don't have to miss me too much when filming ends hehe
Fuck, thinks Ryujin, and pops the last chocolate mushroom into her mouth.
Sunday night and they’re lounging over Chaeryeong’s Facebook Marketplace couch, the one Ryujin had to help lug up four floors because the elevator was out of service. She’s sipping on glass of red wine, because Chaeryeong’s in some kind of sophisticated era or something where that’s all she drinks. She can’t help but cringe every sip, missing the sweet rush of one of the overly fruity drinks she has on rotation when she goes to the bar.
Regardless of how badly she wants a cosmopolitan, the wine is loosening her up. So far she’s complained about nearly every aspect of the PD life, and is back to the whole Jimin-in-the-closet thing.
“Oh yeah, the one who’s kind of a hoe, right? In, like, an empowering girlboss-slay way I mean, not like that. Who was the shoot for again?”
Ryujin takes another small sip before answering casually. “Itzy.”
Chaeryeong shrieks.
“Oh my god, really? They’re literally everywhere on the radio, Jinnie. I have, like, half of the new album saved to my Spotify.”
Ryujin blinks, unprepared for such a strong reaction. “Um? Really? I hadn’t really been paying attention.”
To be quite honest, she didn’t really care that much about idols, like, ever. Okay, that’s a lie—like everyone and their mom she had a Girls’ Generation phase (her computer password used to be “taetae4eva”, many moons ago), and like any sane person she listens to ridiculous amounts of IU regularly. But idol groups? Not really her scene. She’d never heard an Itzy song in her life until this shoot, where she’d had to do her due diligence and figure out what the hell is up with their music in order to incorporate it into the show.
She tried to keep it a secret from Yeji, except for the fact that Yeji questioned her so intensely about her opinions on the group that she eventually gave up and admitted her ignorance. Which resulted in an hour-long crash course about everything Itzy, given to a somewhat buzzed and very tired Ryujin who only remembered, like, half of it.
“Yeah, Hwang Yeji is like, all the talk right now. She’s the official sponsor of Dior here, and has, like, a bunch of CF deals lined up.”
“Oh, yeah, I heard about that stuff.”
Chaeryeong raises her eyebrow suspiciously. “If you know nothing about Itzy, how did you know all of that, then?”
Ryujin doesn’t know how to change the topic so she just dives right in. “Um. We’re like. Friends I guess?”
Cue another shriek.
“YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH HWANG YEJI?”
Ryujin winces at the sound. “Uh, yeah? She helped me during that whole Jimin fiasco and then kind of, I don’t know, latched onto me? We spend a lot of time together on set now? And after shoots. And get drinks and stuff a ton.”
Chaeryeong’s mouth hangs open for a solid minute.
“So when were you going to tell me that my best friend is dating one of the biggest idols in the whole nation right now?”
“Woah, woah, woah, what the fuck? Who said anything about dating? Huh?” Is Chaeryeong crazy? She must be crazy. That’s what’s happening; she’s wine-drunk.
Chaeryeong leans closer, staring intensely at Ryujin. “The biggest idol in the country, arguably, debatably, decided to latch on to you first. Then you guys spend time together on set even though there’s a million other things you could be doing and you’re usually, like, hyper-laser-focused on your work and ignore everybody else. And you get drinks together, alone, which is something couples do on dates, and also you don’t even like drinking that much anyways so if it’s that often you must be going because she’s special to you.”
“Jesus, what are you, Sherlock Holmes,” Ryujin grumbles after a minute of speechless silence. But also, damn. That was…almost, sort of, kind of accurate? She never does usually let someone else distract her that much on set. Or get drinks that often. And, to think about it, Yeji can really, truly befriend anyone she wants—someone who wanted to talk to her first rather than being a slightly prickly asshole like Ryujin tends to be might’ve been a better choice, but she stuck with Ryujin. And talked about wanting to see her every day and added herself into her KakaoTalk.
Is she being hit on? Is this one of those dumbass lesbian moments where she’s obviously being hit on and she’s in denial?
No, wait, this is ridiculous. Yeji’s like, a world-renown idol, for God’s sake. She’s not going to be into some random PD on some random show, no matter how many hours they’re forced to spend together. And—
Her phone pings as she’s mentally monologuing. She swipes it open, and who else is it from but Yeji, whose love for sending selfies of whatever she’s doing unprovoked Ryujin recently discovered.
The photo is simple; a dance studio, it seems from the mirrors and the floor, and a slightly sweaty looking, slightly smiling Yeji that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. She’s in her workout clothes—oversized white tee, black sweats, and is sitting down on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest. Ryujin stares fondly at the photo for a minute before realizing that Chaeryeong is now literally two inches away from her, staring back and forth between the photo and Ryujin’s reaction.
“What. The. Fuck. Ryujin.” Chaeryeong practically yells in her ear.
So. Maybe this is more than she thought it was.
The shoot ends a day later, and it’s a celebratory last day on set. Someone brings in champagne along with the typical copious amounts of soju, and Ryujin’s finally loose through the whole shooting process. This was her first time being in charge, like, completely and totally in charge, and the fact that she didn’t fuck it up is a miracle in itself.
She makes a speech, because she has to. All the typical stuff: couldn’t have done it without everyone, grateful for the support and the leniency, yadayadayada. Cracks a few jokes about Itzy, and about the rough patches at the beginning. People laugh; a few people come up and hug her at the end. It’s nice. This is the type of moment that makes the work worth it.
Of course Yeji comes up to her, because why wouldn’t she.
“Congratulations,” she tells Ryujin, hands over an expensive looking bottle. “Thanks for everything and for helping us through it, and extra congratulations on the first solo head PD gig. This is white, from Bordeaux, and it’s sweet, so don’t worry, because I know you hate the taste of alcohol.”
Ryujin takes the bottle, then pulls Yeji in for a rare hug (because she is not a hugger, don’t get it wrong, it’s just a special occasion).
“No, thank you for everything. I was terrified going into this, so if it hadn’t had been for you guys being such good guests I would’ve freaked out entirely.” She pauses, deciding the time calls for a rare moment of vulnerability. “I’m going to miss having you around.”
Yeji smiles at her, that stupid, pretty smile she has, something slightly scheming in it this time. “About that. So. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m pretty well known.”
Ryujin snorts. “Yeah, I think your fans waiting outside every day and yelling out “Yeji, marry me, please” made that pretty clear.”
“No, like. I mean I’m well known in the sense that I have influence. In the industry. This industry.”
Hm. Where is this going, Ryujin thinks.
“I mean, like, not to gas myself up, but I actually have, like, a ton of power. In the sense that media companies listen to what I have to say, because of how much money I bring them. And so that gig you were talking about wanting? The one on deck for next month? I maybe possibly asked the company if you could be the head PD on that, since you did such a fantastic job on this one, and they maybe possibly definitely said yes.”
Yeji’s full on grinning now, and Ryujin’s gone slack, jaw dropped.
“No—no way. You didn’t. You did?”
Yeji nods gleefully. “I did.”
“You’re serious?”
“I’m serious.”
Ryujin stares, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, for what seems like eternity before grabbing Yeji and pulling her in for another one of her extremely rare hug moments. Yeji giggles in her arms, warm and happy, and suddenly Ryujin’s struck with the feeling of never wanting to let go.
“And the best part is…I’m going to be on it too. As one of the panelists this time.”
“Holy shit, Yeji, I seriously cannot thank you enough for this. This—this is incredible, I, I don’t even know what to say. I owe you more than I can even imagine.”
Yeji shakes her head. “Nah, you don’t owe me anything. Just keep getting drinks with me and we’ll be even.”
With the new filming cycle comes old habits. Those being: pre-shoot coffee, post-shoot drinks. Ryujin doesn’t need to think about how much she’s spending on liquids.
Her and Yeji are spending more time together than ever. Now that it’s just Yeji, and not the whole group, she has more time one-on-one with the older woman. Plus, this show is months long—weekly episodes, long seasons. It’s going to be a while before Ryujin goes back to a Yeji-less life.
When the Itzy girls FaceTime Yeji, more often than not Ryujin is in the background, so they always manage to throw a “hi, Ryujin” in there out of courtesy. Ryujin is busier than ever, so she quite literally, at the current moment, does not have a social life outside of these Yeji-based moments.
Though they may spend nearly every waking moment together, in recent times, at least, there’s one bridge they haven’t crossed: sleeping over. Ryujin doesn’t know why she finds it such a big deal, especially when she’s slept over at Chaeryeong’s place a million times. Nonetheless, every time she tries to offer her place to stay, she bites her tongue at the very last minute, convinced she’s being presumptuous, or, like, whatever.
Until now. Because, apparently, Yuna has a habit of leaving the Itzy girls’ apartment door open when she gets back. And, apparently, their next door neighbor has been in the midst of a rat infestation. These two things separately would be alright, but together they react to create a potent combination. One which has Yeji coming in exhausted and homeless, at the fault of the rats and the fumigation they require, and has Ryujin agreeing to let her stay over for the foreseeable future.
Ryujin thinks it’s fine. Everything’s normal. They’re going to the same place the next morning, for crying out loud. And she sees Yeji so often. What’s there to be nervous about?
A lot, apparently, because she has these weird butterflies in her stomach when they get to Ryujin’s humble abode that first evening.
“Well, it’s definitely a PD salary and not idol salary level apartment, haha, but it’ll do, haha,” Goddamnit, why is she so awkward.
Yeji doesn’t seem to mind one bit. “Can I put my coat here?”
Ryujin blinks. “Oh, yeah, sure. Totally. Let me get that.”
Few hours later, after some takeout and Netflix dramas, and it’s lights out. After a strong argument and a stubbornness she’s known for, she got Yeji to take the bed and her to take the couch.
It’s around half past midnight when she hears a knock at her door.
“Ugh, God,” grumbles Ryujin to herself as she goes to pull it open.
Outside, for some godforsaken reason, stands Chaeryeong.
“Yo, Ryujin. Sorry this is super last minute but do you have that one top that I lent you like last Halloween, and also my portable charger, sorry, I really need them, like, short notice.”
Chaeryeong’s clearly dressed up for some kind of party or something, and Ryujin doesn’t even want to ask questions. Especially because it’s half past midnight, which, okay, is normal, but she has to get up in a few hours and she’d very much like some sleep thank you.
“Chaeryeong, I have someone over,” she hisses out.
Chaeryeong’s eyes turn to saucers. “Oh my God? Ryujin? Who? What’s happening?”
Ryujin rolls her eyes, already grimacing at the amount of detailed explanation Chaeryeong’s going to extract out of her tomorrow. “Um, so, we have a shoot tomorrow and Itzy’s dorm is being fumigated. So Yeji’s staying with me for tonight.”
Chaeryeong blinks. “She’s…staying over? For the night?”
A sleepy voice emerges behind Ryujin. “What’s going on, Ryuddaeng?”
What a time for Yeji to come out of the bedroom. Right in front of Chaeryeong. In loose sweats and the skimpiest crop top she’s ever seen, which she had tried to look respectfully at earlier and is having a rather difficult time now.
“Um, sorry, uh, this is my best friend Chaeryeong, you know, the one I told you about. She wants me to return something she lent me that she needs. Sorry, you can go back to sleep.”
Yeji perks up when she recognizes Chaeryeong’s name. “Oh, the famous best friend. Hi, I’m Yeji. It’s nice to meet you!”
Taking Yeji’s outstretched hand in hers, Chaeryeong looks like she’s seen a ghost.
“Oh my God. I love your music. And also you’re like, so pretty. Like, wow. Like, seriously, Ryujin, you didn’t communicate this part well enough.”
Ryujin rolls her eyes. “Stop hitting on Yeji,” she grumbles.
“What are you, jealous? I’m not gonna take your girl, okay? Anyways, I’ll just be going now, sorry to wake you guys, I’m gonna take the charger since I see it right here on the table Ryujin you can give me the top back another time byeee have fun guys.” And she’s gone.
Yeji looks a little surprised at the speed with which Chaeryeong exited. “Wow, she seems busy.”
“I know,” says Ryujin, shaking her head, “she’s ridiculous.”
They move back into the living room proper, Ryujin praying to any deity up there that Yeji didn't pay close attention to Chaeryeong calling Yeji her girl, and she expects Yeji to head back into the bedroom, but she doesn’t. Ryujin stares at her.
“Um. Is there something wrong with the bed? Do you need new sheets or something like that? I knew I should’ve replaced them with the other ones, they’re softer—”
Yeji clears her throat. “No, um. It’s just. I kind of…”
Ryujin looks at her expectantly. “Kind of what?”
Yeji, for once, seems like she doesn’t have the words to properly express what she’s wanting to say. Or maybe that she’s having trouble getting them out. “I, uh. Usually sleep with a stuffed animal.”
Of all the things Yeji could’ve said, she didn’t anticipate it being that. But it makes sense—she would absolutely expect Yeji to have a million stuffed animals, and she should’ve known she’d be lonely without them.
“Oh, shit. I would totally give you one to sleep with, but I don’t actually have any?” Ryujin frowns. “Hm…perhaps a pillow could work? Or, like, a bunched up blanket—”
“Or, um…”
Ryujin stops and stares again. “What?”
“Maybe…we…could…um…share the bed? If that’s okay with you? I think it would make me feel a little better.”
Ryujin’s heart stops in her chest. Because for all the bravado she puts on, and for every bit of the workaholic-persona she wears, she’s come to one realization over the past few months: she is very, very into Hwang Yeji. Like, very. Like, thinks she’s the cutest person in the world slash wants to make out with her in a dark room type of into her. Like, is down so bad she’s willing to be her fucking teddy bear so she can sleep.
Wow. Ryujin never saw herself here before.
“Okay. Sounds good. I’ll just move my pillow into the bedroom then.”
Yeji looks surprised that was so easy. “Um. Are you sure?”
Ryujin shrugs, grabs her things. “Yeah. I know how hard it can be sleeping somewhere else. Anything I can do to make it easier, you know.”
And that’s how they end up in her bed, inches away from each other. God, a constant stream is running through Ryujin’s mind right now. How good Yeji smells. How her face’s profile looks good even in the dark. How she wants nothing more than to just reach over and hold Yeji in her arms.
Along the way, Yeji seems to have gotten considerably sleepier. “Stop thinking so loud,” she mumbles out, eyes closed.
“Sorry,” Ryujin whispers back, trying to make herself more comfortable, unable to find the right position.
“Mm,” Yeji goes, nestling into the blankets. “C’mere.”
Ryujin pauses, heart stopping. “Huh?”
Yeji lets out a quiet little whine that has Ryujin feeling all types of things and rolls over, stretching her arm out to envelop Ryujin.
And when she falls asleep in Yeji’s arms? Warm, comforting? When she wakes up in the morning and it’s far too early but she’s still tucked under Yeji’s chin, breathing soft and even, finally having found the most perfect place on earth?
Yeah, they don’t need to talk about it.
Something seems to shift.
Yeji’s all of a sudden, like, lightyears more touchy. Linking arms freely, one slung around her shoulder, back hugs, the whole lot.
She’s pretty sure everyone around her has noticed, too, because Jimin, who came with her as head of cameras, has been winking at her each time it happens. And even one of the old-ass hosts of the show, some boomer-era comedian who’s been on-air for more years than Ryujin’s been alive, makes sly little comments about the two of them, always asking where her little girlfriend is.
It’s a late night filming when it culminates, because of course it is.
The shoot’s been running long over, and Ryujin’s thanking God and all his disciples when she’s finally able to yell Cut! They all pack up, she makes a note of what they need to get started with immediately the next morning, and then heads over to collect her things.
Yeji’s still staying with her. It’s, what, a week after that first night, and for some reason every rat exterminator in the city of Seoul is a little bit incompetent, so Ryujin’s starting to get used to the routine of ending a shoot and driving Yeji back, for some hot chocolate and a movie before they pass out together. Yep, still on the same bed. Ryujin has no constitution, okay? (Nor does she really want to go back to sleeping alone, but.)
This time around: “I don’t wanna go home just yet,” says Yeji, after bounding up to her like she always does.
And then they’re here. Han River, night view, the whole works. They’ve each bought a drink from the convenience store nearby: some banana milk for Ryujin, some peach iced tea for Yeji, a bottle of soju between them they’ve just opened after finishing the other drinks.
Ryujin takes a short swig and grimaces. “I don’t know why you always insist on getting original flavor when, like, green apple and grape exist.”
Yeji rolls her eyes, black cap fit snug on her head. “Because the other ones taste like juice. I wanna taste the soju flavor.”
“It tasting like juice is not a bad thing,” Ryujin mumbles, doing the swig-grimace process over again one more time because her sips are too tiny for one to get her anywhere near drunk.
They aren’t the only ones out tonight. There’s various people scattered across the river walk, both throughout the park and on the benches, where they are. It’s mostly couples, though—Ryujin thinks the only single people she’s seen so far are the people delivering food to the sitting couples. Then she thinks about the optics of the two of them, and whether everyone around them is interpreting them as a couple or not, and she starts to feel just the tiniest bit flushed.
“Ryuddaeng,” says Yeji, looking out into the distance. “Did you know I almost gave up on being an idol?”
Ryujin’s more than surprised, both at the random interjection and what Yeji just said. “No, I didn’t. What made you stay?”
Yeji laughs, almost cynically. “I was almost through with high school, and the company still hadn’t debuted me. Every day I cried when the day was over and I didn’t feel any closer to my dream. Jisu was there, too, she can vouch for this. Anyways, I told myself that I was done with it all, that I was tired of my hard work going nowhere, and that I would quit the next day. And then I got to the company, ready to tell our trainer that I wouldn’t be coming in anymore, and then I got pulled into the CEO’s office. And then Itzy was born.”
Ryujin whistles. “Wow. That’s a story. Thanks for sharing that with me.”
Yeji smiles at her from the side, glancing back to the water. “I learned a lot from that. Patience, for one. The ability to stick with something and have trust that things will work out the way they need to. Some kind of belief in the universe, maybe.”
The universe. Ryujin’s been thinking about that a lot recently. “Do you believe in fate?”
Yeji hums. “In a way. I think it pushes us in a certain direction, and then we choose where to go from there.”
“And where do you think fate is pushing you now?”
“Here,” says Yeji, and she finally looks straight over at Ryujin. “Right here, right now.”
The nighttime air is cool across Ryujin’s skin. The dark sky is glittering, tiny little specks shining against the velvet of the hour. And Yeji’s staring at her, eyes open and sure, heart on her sleeve, and Ryujin understands it completely. She’s never felt a moment more right in her life—she’s in love, she knows this now, feels it echo across her heart. Feels her blood rushing under her skin in time with the waves lapping the river shore. Knows that everything is about to change, and nothing, too, all at once.
With all of that grounding her, she pulls Yeji in.
The darkness of night does wonders for them now, cloaks them enough to be careless about spectators, who themselves are largely in their own worlds. Everything falls away but this: Yeji’s lips warm and inviting against her own, a hand tangled in her hair, hers still against Yeji’s neck. Yeji lets out a whine into her mouth, which she swallows gladly.
When they part it’s after a solid minute, and Yeji is panting, eyes still glued downwards towards Ryujin’s mouth. Ryujin’s not much different.
“So,” says Ryujin, after a second.
“So,” says Yeji back, lips beginning to curve into an open-mouthed smile, incredulous laugh backgrounding it.
Yeji’s been leading this whole time: initiating pocha dates, inviting herself over. It was about time Ryujin started returning the favor, and what better way to do it?
“Fate might’ve brought us here, but that was all me, just saying.” Ryujin still has to be a little bit of an asshole, okay, and she grins.
Thankfully, Yeji just laughs out loud, a full, hearty thing that says something between uh huh, sure, okay and I’m never letting you go, and it’s okay, Ryujin won’t let her.