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It’s a not-so-ordinary Monday for Kim Chaehyun when the competing lineup for Queendom 2 is announced officially by MNET.
Fans had their predictions weeks earlier, though, and for the most part they were correct. Kep1er, Cosmic Girls, and one or two other contestants aside from ...
What Chaehyun is most occupied with, is the fact that she’ll be competing alongside LOONA — Girl of the Month — Idarui Sonyeo — Kongetsu no shōjo.
Their various names ring about in her head, and for the first time in months, she feels out of her comfort zone. Sure, dorming with 8 other girls — most of whom she’d felt civil with at most even after they’d all won together in their respective places from first to ninth — who she’d competed against in a ruthless battle to what felt like the death to debut in a girl group was stressful, along with navigating respectful relations in the hard hitting aftermath of this competition, but this pales in comparison to competing among staple names like SISTAR’s Hyolyn, SSE’s WJSN, and Chaehyun’s personal number one girl of the month, Kim Jiwoo.
There was something easy to love about each member of the group. Ignoring their fluidity, ability to endure the harshest of circumstances, and wide set of skills that made each member impossibly unique and yet somehow magically compatible with one another, every girl had a charm to them you couldn’t help but admire. Even at a glance, one could tell LOONA was no ordinary girl group.
Heejin, 4th gen’s ace, the staple for idol dancing. Hyunjin, angel like visuals, impossibly large eyes, the 4D personality of the group.
Haseul, a voice sent straight from heaven, a stark contrast to her charisma on stage. Yeojin, with the ability to match lines of stronger vocalist’s like Chuu’s and biting humor that deceives her initial cute, maknae image.
Vivi, flowerlike and elegant, with vocals and an aura to match. Kim Lip, LOONA’s girl crush (or so says Twitter), with a honey like voice and a fluidity in the way she moves her body that’s nothing if not entrancing.
Jinsoul, the quirky blue fish with a voice that flows like water. Choerry and Go Won, with softer, yet equally distinguishable voices, and with respectively a penchant for choreographing, having directed a few of the group’s official dances, and an undeniable talent in rapping.
Yves, LOONA’s swan, who masters any dance she puts her mind to, nailing graceful and elegant girl group choreo to completing boy group dances, more harsh and sharp with an unmatched precision, and Olivia Hye, the idol with the shortest training period to date and the charisma and unabashed pure skill to show for it.
Chaehyun has each of their solo albums, each with a personalized message she’d got a friend to have written (not because she couldn’t attend the fanmeet herself, but rather because she was much too embarrassed to) and has the fanchant memorized like her date of birth. She loves every member, but her bias has always been deadset obvious if you were to ever bring up the topic of k-idols to her.
Chuu. Kim Jiwoo (not of NMIXX). LOONA’s happy vitamin, along with Choerry. The group’s most powerful vocalist and the pioneer of the legendary apple heart. Fanonically a rich Korean lesbian married to Yves (Chaehyun had literally fallen to her knees in the supermarket when this tweet had gone viral and for a split second had thought it real) and, most notably, the apple of Chaehyun’s eye since she’d been revealed in 2017.
Chaehyun, needless to say, is a LOONA fangirl. But before that, she is a diehard chuugummy. This is why, even after she’d been informed of her contestants before it’d been initially announced, she finds herself in a pile on the floor, a quiet thrill wracking through her body and her head swimming with the fact she’ll not only be in close proximity to, but competing with her ult of ults.
Chaehyun steps into an empty meeting room she’d wrongfully assumed was where she was to meet with the rest of her members, and she almost steps back out before the glint of something in the morning light catches her eye.
The curtains sheathing the window across from the table are drawn, and when she moves ever so slightly, the shimmer of pink aluminum reflects in the glass.
She takes a hesitant step toward the table, and with a singular scan of the room, she knows Chuu has been here.
The mere prospect of existing in a space Chuu has previously occupied thrills her to no end, and she almost feels the energy from the extra caffeinated drink that lies discarded on the table coursing through her system and sending tingles to the tips of her fingers.
She steps forward again, her feet moving of their own accord and on pure instinct, and her hand brushes against the can of raspberry red bull.
Chaehyun knows Chuu has been here, because the scent of Chanel no. 5 (Chuu’s go-to perfume, as revealed in an SNS update on 210511) lingers in the air, and most tellingly, because this is Chuu’s favorite drink.
Chaehyun (though she’d never admit it) has seen every vlive Chuu has appeared in, and along with committing her subtle movements (the upwards quirk of her lips, the crinkle of her eyes) to memory, she remembers the more physical attributes of Kim Jiwoo that manifest wherever she goes, such as her perfume and her favorite energy drink.
Chuu, famously, is against littering, which lends Chaehyun the terrifying yet electrifying thought she might be returning to take her drink back. They hadn’t been properly introduced yet, so she’s not certain she won’t freak out and start gushing about having been a fan since she was 15.
She looks back toward the door. While left ajar, it is most surely deserted. There is no one to observe the utmost of unholy sins she is about to commit. Maybe a few moments before Chuu comes back.
Her hand twitches, her fingers quiver. She feels physically intoxicated, though the last (and only) time she’d touched alcohol had been at her second cousin’s wedding before she’d even been in training for idoldom, and she doesn't remember much other than the disgustingly rich taste that had her almost retching under the twinkling fairy lights.
That, however, could not have even begun to prepare her for the way she feels positively dizzy just with a drink Chuu has touched, existing in a magnitude in comparison with her that feels largely unrealistic considering the actual size of the drink. If nothing but the physical remnants of her idol have her reduced to a blithering mess, the idea of standing meters away from Chuu... Oh. Oh god.
Her hand lingers in its place. Her fingers crawl forward, nothing if not of their own accord, and she takes the aluminum can in her hand.
It feels cool against her skin. The thought hits her that this could probably sell for a lot if she advertised it as a can Chuu (the Kim Jiwoo of LOONA) has drank from, but then she realizes she’d both have no way to prove this, and the fact that that would be leagues creepier than what she’s doing right now.
Creepier than keeping the drink for herself?
She shoots another wary look at the door, before lifting the can with her arm shaking in trepidation closer to her face to examine it. Her eyes roll over it as it glimmers in the light, and her heart almost stops in its pace when she sees lipgloss on the rim of the drink.
Oh. Oh. Oh.
No, this — This most definitely is bordering on creepy. No, she better not.
Better not what?
Her mind, the more sensible portion of it, perhaps, tells her she can still drop the can back to the table and forget this ever happened. Pretend she wasn’t literally about to drink from the used can of a girl she’s never even actually seen in real life before.
But a larger, more starry eyed corner tells her this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, begs the question: is it really creepy if no one sees it?
Before she can engage in further internal monologue, any doubts are suddenly quenched as she lips the can to her lips and takes a swig. It tastes funny, sort of like battery acid, but with her lips against the same part of the foil Chuu’s had been, her head is left swimming in a sort of dreamlike state regardless of whether she cares for the tang of the fizzy soda.
“Chaehyun-ah?”
She drops the can to the table, shoves it hard, and sends it rolling over, pink liquid spilling over the polished wood to the table.
“Shit,” She murmurs under her breath, quickly untying her sweater from around her waist and throwing it over the surface if nothing else but to conceal her crime.
She turns haphazardly and smiles at Xiaoting, who’s staring at her like she just grew two heads.
“Uh,” She says, “What’s up?”
Xiaoting frowns, throws a glance back to the table and then seemingly decides to forget about it. “Uh, we need to meet to organize our beginning performance, right? Yujin unnie sent me ‘cause she thought you got lost or something.”
Chaehyun smiles lopsidedly, “Yeah — Uh, that I did.” Her hands fumble against the sweater behind her, only succeeding in spilling more of the drink on the table, and she curses to herself again. She scoops the soiled jacket and can into her arms, the liquid — one she quietly thanks is sugar free for it won’t be sticky — seeping into her clothes: the least of her worries.
“Alright then,” Xiaoting shrugs. “Let’s go, yeah?”
Chaehyun is about to nod, before there’s the sound of a few quiet voices outside of the door. Her senses are immediately drawn into overdrive when she recognizes the lilting laughter and lightly teasing tone of Chuu, and Xiaoting stares oddly at her again as the door slides ajar.
“So I said —” Chuu laughs out, then her voice dies as a polite smile spreads over her lips when she realizes she and Olivia Hye are in company.
“Oh, hi!” She greets, “We haven’t met, I don’t think. You guys are in Queendom too, right, or are the staff just this pretty? I’m Chuu — Kim Jiwoo, from LOONA.”
Olivia Hye introduces herself too, then grumbles under her breath like jokingly flirting with random girls is typical Chuu behavior, which she supposes it is, or rather, the older girl is just naturally friendly and charismatic. Chaehyun had just never thought she’d be on the receiving end of it.
“Sunbaenim,” Xiaoting bows immediately, and Chaehyun is so immediately struck with the lingering scent of Chuu in the room that’s been magnified near tenfold in her presence that she forgets to bow, stammering out an apology as she bows quickly moments later.
“Sorry, we have to get to practice,” She smiles apologetically, “But we’re from Kep1er!”
“Ah!” Chuu clicks her fingers, “Right! I remember your faces! It’s so nice to meet you, finally! I’m sure we’ll get along really well.”
Olivia Hye offers a placid smile too, then takes out her phone, typing something with quick fingers.
“I’m sure,” Xiaoting smiles, always falling easily into niceties with industry seniors despite her lack of complete confidence in the language.
A professional, Chaehyun reminds herself, that’s what she is. What she’d just done was entirely not that. But still...
Xiaoting excuses herself and Chaehyun, dragging her out the door, an unbridled euphoria still washing over her in waves because she’d just been introduced to —
Her mind is drawn from her fantasies, though, as she overhears the dying conversation of Chuu and Olivia Hye as they make their way away from the now occupied room.
“Did you see my drink?” She hears Chuu wonder aloud, “I swear I left it in here!”
“You’re so forgetful, unnie,” Olivia Hye chides, “I bet it’s back in our practice room.”
Chaehyun ignores the bubbling feeling in her chest that she’s done something terribly wrong, and she really hates how easy it feels. The can brushes against her hand, skin pulsating electrically against the aluminum in time with another jolt to her heart.
She, Youngeun, Kim Lip, JinSoul, HaSeul, and Chuu are teamed up for a mission. It’s not a dance, just the performance of a ballad, so at least she doesn’t have to worry about forgetting the moves in favor of performing alongside Chuu.
The lines are distributed to them over a few meetings, and Chaehyun feels electric and dazed when they gather to practice, Chuu’s powerful voice ringing melodiously through the studio and washing over Chaehyun in waves of angel-like lilted tones. Regardless of whether her voice is objectively the “best” up with the other girls in their group, hers is the one that drowns everyone else’s out, hers is the one that has Chaehyun resisting falling into smattering applause even when Chuu claims she’d sung the wrong line or trilled a few octaves too high.
It’s a few days before they’re set to perform when Chuu gets a cold and her voice wavers a little when they’re singing, Chaehyun almost tripping over her feet when she greets her in a huskier tone, sending shivers from the tips of her fingers to the roots of her heart.
“Guess I’ve been practicing a bit too much,” She admits, a guilty smile gracing her lips.
The other girls offer a series of agreements and commiserations, and Chaehyun doesn’t miss the way Chuu’s eyes linger on her a little longer when it’s her turn and she stammers over her words, though the gaze she offers her is anything but teasing despite the insistence of her mind.
Chuu is kind and compassionate, and older LOONA-TVs and Dalso trivia have always reflected her good natured personality when it comes to helping shyer girls out of their shells.
She thinks about wide dark eyes that peer deeper into her than anyone else has ever bothered to look as she goes to sleep that night.
They all meet a few hours before the performance in a changeroom upon Haseul’s insistence — she’d still been a little on edge after they’d been cost the points for their opening performance, she explains with an apologetic smile, and Chaehyun understands.
The rest of the girls other than Chaehyun all mention wanting to go out to get some stuff to eat, but the nerves are eating her up inside beyond allowing her to consume anything with the guarantee she won’t puke it all back up mid performance, so she takes a seat and insists she’s fine.
To her surprise, Chuu agrees with her, and the other four girls leave the room, sending Chaehyun’s nerves smoldering into a harsh flame beyond what she’d already been feeling with the performance looming over her shoulders.
Five minutes pass — though it feels more like a five thousand eons — before Chaehyun sneaks a glance at Chuu. She’s staring at her phone, but apparently she notices the glance, and looks up with a smile. Cherry red immediately rises to her cheeks, and Chaehyun looks back down before their eyes meet.
This happens a few more times before Chuu shuffles over to Chaehyun, linking her arm in her own.
“Are you nervous?” She asks, and Chaehyun can feel her hot breath against her cheek, though she’s sure it was both unintentional and Chuu hadn’t even been aware she was doing it.
“I,” Chaehyun stammers, “Uh, yeah.”
Chuu offers her an easy smile, and bumps Chaehyun’s shoulder with her own. “Don’t be! Your voice is amazing, you’re gonna do so well.”
By now, Chaehyun’s cheeks are beyond scarlet, and she hears her heart beating in her ears in tandem with Chuu’s even breaths that echo through the room. The fact her idol had just called her voice amazing doesn't quite register, not entirely sure she hadn't hallucinated those words, but what does is the contented sigh Chuu lets out as she leans back against the table.
Chaehyun clears her throat as softly as she can, “What about you, sunbaenim? Are you nervous?”
“Oh gosh, sunbaenim is too formal, call me Jiwoo unnie!” She laughs, “But ... I guess I am a little. When you're used to performing alongside the same people all the time, it’s easy to get nervous with new people, no matter how much you practice together.”
“You’re afraid we’ll mess up?” Chaehyun jests.
“No — No! I’m more afraid I’ll mess up. You guys are like, the best of the best!”
“I’ve been an idol a lot less long than you have,” Chaehyun smiles lopsidedly, sort of eased with Jiwoo’s confession of her nerves, “I mean — You’re Chuu. From LOONA!”
“Don’t sell yourself short Chaehyun-ah, you came first in Girls Planet, remember? I was — I mean, 10th isn't bad, but I also wasn't competing among nearly as many people as you were.”
Chaehyun sucks in her cheek, “I guess you’re right. Thanks ... Jiwoo unnie.”
Jiwoo smiles again, and Chaehyun has the odd urge to lean a little closer. She doesn't know what gives her the confidence to do so, but she does it still, ending up stumbling a little so her cheek presses against Jiwoo’s.
She stumbles back, muttering apologies, but not quick enough seemingly, because Jiwoo stands up properly and tilts her head, sort of catching Chaehyun off guard as the washed out changing room lights shine down on her.
Her hand captures Chaehyun’s chin, and Chaehyun wonders dazedly if her skin is breaking out and Jiwoo’s noticed where she hasn't. She’s answered, however, when Jiwoo surges forward and presses her lips against Chaehyun’s, the smoke and lingering snags floating out of her lungs with Jiwoo’s scent that devastates her senses.
She presses into the kiss without really thinking about it, and Jiwoo responds in kind, her lips ghosting across Chaehyun’s cheek. She thinks, absentmindedly, that she might have to apply a bit more concealer after this, until she catches ahold of herself and pulls away, lungs sinking with the crushing force of what they’d just done.
“What,” She says, gasping, red gloss now smeared against her lips and cheek, “What was that?”
Jiwoo widens her eyes, “I’m sorry, so — so sorry, I just, I thought —”
“No, no, don’t apologize, just — I mean, I don’t — are you —”
Jiwoo smacks her lips together and reaches again for a can of raspberry red bull. She takes a long swig, as if it were anything stronger than pure caffeine and artificial sweetener and graciously allows Chaehyun to finish her question.
“Nevermind,” She just breathes as it fizzles out on her tongue, and Jiwoo grins, already dropping the now-empty can to her side and reeling her in again with that lethal glint in her eyes.
They don't do more than messing around, really, but still, Chaehyun has to quickly readjust her dress before they go onstage, not-so-subtly avoiding Youngeun’s piercing glance when they jump away from one another all too suspiciously when the door slides ajar.
Her eyes flicker ever so slightly when she sings her first lines, and it feels awfully dangerous, like everyone here knows what they’ve been up to just hours before.
Chaehyun can pretend Jiwoo’s singing to her, because when she sings, she knows every word that graces her lips has one destination only, a home of heart shaped lips, perpetually collapsing into a deific grin, and eyes that twinkle under the stage lights.
Their voices blend together in a melodious harmony, and her heart sings out when it hits her: She is singing with Chuu. Kim Jiwoo.
The girl who... who she’d... who she’d idolized and bore over on sleepless nights after grueling training and empty stomachs, and who more recently — not hours before — and most notably had taught her the taste of her lips and the curve of her waist beneath an angel white dress. Who’d most recently caught her own hands under Chaehyun’s own clothes, twisting dainty hands into form fitting fabric and instilling within her a language she doesn’t think she could forget, not in ten, a hundred, not in a thousand years.
The line is fitting:
“You show off your elegant figure..."
And it feels like there’s nothing that could have her heart plummeting into a river of pink-red-orange, glittery and all encompassing and warm, like the way it does when their voices fall as the line finishes and Jiwoo surveys her with that soft smile that has Chaehyun giving her a goofy one on her own, the pure euphoria surging through her enough to bench the thought that right now she probably looks like an idiot on national television.
They film the reaction to their performance as it’s released to the public, and Jiwoo insists they all have a group hug once it’s over. Despite the other girl’s perfumes that drift into her nose, berries that shine bright in turn with a sort of seraphic glint of wildly ambitious eyes are the ones she finds invading her senses.
It’s 6am a few weeks later when they meet again officially at a 24/7 café a few blocks from the Queendom building.
Dust lingers in Chaehyun’s chest and trepidation resides in her shaky fingers with the conversation she’d summoned Jiwoo forth to have, and she feels a little bitter that under different circumstances this might be a date (a date!!!) of sorts.
Things are all backwards, with their first kiss and Jiwoo’s hands sneaking under her costume in abandoned changerooms over the last week or so leagues before meeting for coffee in the morning, almost dizzying Chaehyun to the point of collapse when she lingers on these happenings for more than a minute, happenings that feel too right to be wrong and too fantastical to be real.
“So,” Jiwoo begins with a catlike yawn, “Why’d you wanna meet again?”
Chaehyun fumbles with the keychain on her purse — a little plastic 2d raspberry charm Hikaru had picked out for her when they visited her hometown — “Uh, I just wanted to ... talk ... I guess.”
Jiwoo grins, “Alright! Over drinks, then?”
She nods, then throws a wary glance to the cashier, who looks equally as tired and bored as she does frustrated with Jiwoo’s seemingly boundless energy, almost vibrating on the spot.
“What do you wanna get?”
Chaehyun takes a pause for a moment, scanning the menu. Her eyes catch on a decadent raspberry-chocolate thickshake, topped with whipped cream. She almost salivates at the sugar-filled dessert, how long has it been since she’s eaten anything like that?
It must be 400 calories at least, but she’s sure she could burn it off, especially considering they’ve got practice today ... But then, her managers, the strict instructions about food and drink and macros and the heavy reminder that this show was airing on live television ...
“Woaaahh,” Jiwoo exclaims, interrupts her train of thought, “There’s so many good options. What are you thinking of, Chaehyun-ah?”
Chaehyun gulps, “Er, uh. An Iced Americano, I guess.”
“Iced Americano,” Jiwoo whistles, then, “Is that under instruction of your managers?”
Chaehyun is silent, just ducks her head and avoids Jiwoo’s eyes.
“I can tell you want sugar!” Jiwoo teases, linking her arm with Chaehyun’s and pulling her gently toward the register, “You’re still young, don’t worry about that boring calorie stuff. C’mon, my treat!”
Chaehyun feels a smile peeking out from under her lips despite herself, “Okay ... Then ... The raspberry-chocolate thickshake.”
Jiwoo grins, her eyes crescent, and her thumb brushes momentarily against the sliver of skin peeking out from underneath her shirt, Chaehyun all but literally bursting into flames with the minute contact, “That’s what I’m talking about!” Then, to the cashier, “Two raspberry-chocolate thickshakes, please and thank you!”
Chaehyun, as both girls sip at their shakes, conveniently forgets to mention the burning question that’s been at the front of her mind conscious and unconscious, everything but Jiwoo’s bright smile reduced to background focus, where her main objective now lies in keeping the ringing laughter spilling from her lips at each one of her cheesy jokes.
The rest of her members are out for lunch, Yujin and Chaehyun the only ones left in their dorm.
Chaehyun had always been a little intimidated by the older woman, who carries a looming 6 years of real idol experience over her, but she supposes that is to her benefit here where the question that’s been burning in her chest is one she’s likely to receive a satisfactory answer to when asking a veteran idol.
“Yunjin unnie?” Chaehyun calls out hesitantly, fidgeting with her t-shirt as she stands outside Yunjin’s room.
A distracted noise of acknowledgement passes through the door, then she calls out, “Come in,” and Chaehyun pulls the door open.
Yujin is stretched out on her yoga mat in a mountain pose, and Chaehyun flushes immediately when she’s faced with one particularly compromising angle, turning her gaze to the laptop that blasts out some post-workout stretching routine. She silently jots down the name of the video to have a look at later.
Yujin stands eventually, letting out a huff and wiping at her brow, offering Chaehyun a pinched smile before reaching for a water bottle. She takes a long sip, before sitting back on the mat, “What’s up?”
Chaehyun hesitates, briefly mulling over the implications of the sort of question she’s about to ask Yujin.
Is it something she’ll even have an answer to?
If anyone will, it’ll be Yujin.
Will she know who you’re talking about?
Chaehyun bites her lip at this. She sneaks another glance at the older woman, who’s peering at her in that catlike way she does. Even sweaty, hair slicked to her forehead, she carries a sort of regality that has Chaehyun second guessing everything she is, down to the fabric shifting against her collar.
It makes her feel a little similar to how she had with Chuu — Jiwoo, but again, eternities apart. The burning ceases, no, it wasn’t there to begin with.
She wonders again if it’s just a starstrucked daze she feels with Jiwoo, or if it borders more on...
Well, this will provide brief clarity at least.
She takes a breath. What’s there really to lose, right?
“Have you ever ... Have you ever liked another idol, unnie?”
Chaehyun almost freezes when her mind scans over the sentence, almost convinced she’d implied somewhere this hypothetical idol was not a man, and then relaxes slightly as she realizes she indeed had not.
“Of course,” Yujin hums, “It happens all the time to everyone. You just have to remind yourself there’s always people watching, and the chance of him feeling the same is slim to none. You can’t afford to act on it in an industry like this.”
Chance of him feeling the same . . .
. . . Can’t afford to act on it,
“Oh,” Chaehyun all but squeaks out, “Of course.”
Yujin looks at her strangely.
Chaehyun doesn’t know what drives her further into this conversation where she’s virtually digging her own grave, but her mouth spills further, “So then, obviously, you’ve — you’ve never acted on it?”
“...Chaehyun,” Yunjin sighs, “In the hypothetical situation I did,” She pauses, to stare at Chaehyun, like there’s a hidden meaning behind her words, “It’s not the thing I’d speak of ever again. Both for myself and for the person involved.”
Chaehyun nods, thanks Yujin, and quietly clicks the door shut behind her. Her mind thrums in time with her heart, ticking dangerously close to a conclusion she both doesn’t want to reach and knows is inevitable.
There’s a few moments in between her and Yujin’s conversation (if one would consider it as such) where she’s not quite sure whether she’s dreaming or existing in a state of near consciousness, not quite breaching reality but not quite entirely in her imagination.
When Jiwoo’s hands glide over her waist, nails scraping gently across soft skin, she loses herself in touch, and it truly does feel like the word otherworldly has found a new meaning.
When she nips at her lip with her thigh lodged between her legs, Chaehyun’s senses feel dreamlike and her voice doesn’t sound like her own when she cries out, like she’s hearing it from underwater.
While she’d like to credit this to Yujin’s warning about the kind of relationship the two of them are thoughtlessly indulging in, she knows it’s the thrill of it all.
None of it feels real, and she doesn’t quite want it to.
Chaehyun doesn’t know why she decides to slip out of the dorm before any of her members are awake, but she finds herself wandering along the streets despite the biting cold, just tugging her coat all the tighter around her shoulders.
There was something that drew her to the foggy morning, leaving not a meter in front of her in clear view, and she supposes this might be it. Jiwoo walks along the footpath heading right toward her, whistling to herself and swinging her left arm aimlessly in which she holds a plastic bag, her phone in the other which her attention evidently is occupied with.
Careless, Chaehyun thinks grimly, before she can stop herself, only to clap her hands over her mouth as if she’d said the word out loud and was awaiting Jiwoo’s reaction. It’s this that draws Jiwoo’s attention from her mobile to a Chaehyun frozen in the spot, but instead of laughing at her or walking off, she just marches up to her and links her arm in her own, grinning widely as if she had planned this from the beginning.
“Chaehyun-ah!” She announces, and the smile in her voice has Chaehyun daring to consider the prospect she might be even mildly pleased to see her, “Why are you out here? It’s so early!”
A nervous laugh tumbles from her trembling lips, “Uh ... burning the midnight oil?”
“It’s far past midnight, silly,” Jiwoo teases, “C’mon, you wanted to see me, right?”
“How was I supposed to know you would be out here?”
Jiwoo just giggles and pulls her along the street, quieting her stormy mind little by little.
In the end, they drop by a convenience store and Jiwoo buys a coffee and a to-go pack of cereal, claiming she hasn’t slept or eaten in two days. Chaehyun gets a protein bar she picks at as they make their way through the streets, the sun making it’s gradual arrival and
“I don’t think we’re gonna win,” Chaehyun muses, trying to disguise the disappointment in her voice. She’d tried to come into the competition with high hopes, insisting to her endlessly ameliorating mind that the excitement of competing among industry seniors was just as thrilling as winning would have been — and in a way, it has been, and more. If someone had told her at 15 she’d be in a sort of covert dance with the 10th girl of the month, she’d probably have laughed in their face.
But there’s still a part of her that twists in bitter resentment toward the unpolished parts of her. Like maybe if she’d dieted a little more strictly, pushed herself further and trained a little harder, Kep1er would’ve had more of a chance.
Jiwoo stares evenly at her, a sort of magnified wondering in her gaze. Chaehyun feels sort of self conscious all of the sudden, throwing her own down into her lap.
“Maybe not..." Jiwoo says, slowly, “But I don’t think you’ll be last.”
Chaehyun tries for a laugh, a lump building in her throat, “I hope not.”
“I know it’s a competition, but I honestly think we all did really great. Especially you.”
She pauses, then looks up at Chaehyun again, “I’m glad I met you.”
In the end, LOONA does win, the group trending on twitter for a few days and earning them a bunch of interviews on a-list programs. Chaehyun supposes if Kep1er wasn’t to win, then she would have wanted LOONA to. And the wide smile Jiwoo wears as LOONA accepts their award certainly drives that thought home.
She stops by the convenience store on the way back from the Queendom Arena for the last time, and buys a raspberry red bull just for the hell of it. By now, she’s beyond established she doesn’t care for the taste, but it’s more the sentiment that has her swiping her debit against the card reader and taking a long swig from the can she cracks open, careful not to ruin her acrylics.
With the drink spilling down her throat, she feels a sort of ache surface. That had been the last time, hadn’t it?
She hadn’t asked Jiwoo’s number, had she?
Her thumb clicks through her phone of its own accord to an app she’d downloaded on a guilty impulse and put far more money into than she’d be willing to admit.
urJWOO ♡🎀💗 21:57
orbit~~~~
Thank you for letting us win. I met so many amazing people and worked alongside amazing artists.
I hope we can meet again, I am glad we had the chance when we did
Orbit, i love you!
Chaehyun smiles all the way back to her dorm, giddy enough to forget how absolutely repulsive the drink she nurses is.