Work Text:
Yongsun clicks through her YouTube page and exhales. There's a mukbang going up next Thursday, a cover scheduled for the week after, a vlog for the week after that. Those are all the videos she has queued for now, until the next single is out.
There's so much raw footage that just needs to be edited. She can, and should, get some of it done tonight.
And yet.
Yongsun doesn't know how to explain it - the pit of dread that formed in her stomach over the course of their last comeback. It claws at her carefully constructed shell of discipline and passion and determination. After almost eleven years in the same routine, the usual song and dance is starting to grow old, and that's terrifying. Or maybe the dread is just the byproduct of an increased workload, while Mamamoo+ gears up for another promotion cycle.
They just have to work harder. Push for virality, stay relevant. Keep being fresh and exciting and new. And then what?
Yongsun wants to drop her head on the desk, violently, and not move for an hour.
But she can't want that, because Yongsun is the person who keeps working when everyone else has gone home. She doesn't have Byulyi's talent for dance, Wheein's delicate voice or Hyejin's allure. So she makes up for it in work ethic and drags the group through practice after practice until they move and breathe in hard-earned harmony.
Not that she has a group anymore.
Yongsun sifts through the raw files, splicing the useable footage together into a single video. It took her three tries to get through the intro without stumbling over the words. Could be good for the outtakes.
"Thank you everyone, you have worked hard!" Past-Yongsun exclaims. "Woo, woo!"
Present-Yongsun winces at the sudden increase in decibels. None of the staff in the background even look up, too accustomed to her enthusiasm and noise. Ouch.
Yongsun is always the person to give more than she receives. It was something she struggled with a lot throughout life, but these days she has mostly made her peace with it.
"Thank you to our Moomoos for showing the song a lot of love! Bye!"
Eugh, she sounds so whiny. Cut that.
Now she just needs to add subtitles and visual effects, write a description, edit together some good stills for the thumbnail…
Yongsun envisions the viewership graph and suddenly needs to cry. She used to average millions of views, hundreds of millions of streams. She steered Mamamoo to higher and higher heights, and then it slowly ended, as all things must.
It's a stupid way of thinking. They're all doing really well, for third gen artists. Mamamoo+ is still releasing music and garnering interest. They all have successful solo careers. Yongsun shouldn't be complaining that they're not the chart-toppers they once were. But she would be lying if she said she didn't miss it: the adrenaline of award show stages, the rush of endorphins from a trophy in hand, walking into a room and commanding the respect of other idols.
It was more than Yongsun ever dreamed of; a chance she was unbelievably lucky to have. Through some combination of sheer ambition and luck, she got everything she ever wanted. Well… almost.
They had such a good run.
"Wheein-ah, call me when you get this, alright?"
The phone screen goes black.
It's been too long since she's heard from Wheein - Yongsun knows how she hates keeping up over text. She always worries about how she comes across or the hidden intent behind any given message. It's too easy to be misinterpreted, too hard to be genuine but not over the top.
Yongsun scrolls back through their last conversations, searching for anything that meant something.
Six days ago:
yaa so pretty! <3 <3
when are you getting back to korea?
Three weeks ago:
how was your flight?
kekekeke don’t worry so much unnie
it was fine
thats good
did you get time to explore the city before the show?
you mentioned that you wanted to visit the temple
send pictures!!!
Nine months ago:
you up for dinner after the shoot?
ya
always
actually can we get takeaway?
Wheein rarely posts in the group chat. She reacts to messages, but only really replies to Hyejin. Yongsun will keep a hand outstretched anyway. Just in case Wheein ever needs it.
Somehow looking through texts turns into scrolling through Wheein's profile, guiltily drinking in every little change she had missed. A new haircut, a new tour stop. Of course Wheein didn't pick up the phone, it's seven a.m. over there. Yongsun refreshes the most recent reel again, just to hear Wheein's voice.
Beyond the physical, there's something different in the way she carries herself, the way she smiles. Wheein sounds good. She looks happy.
Yongsun hates it.
The flash of resentment is immediately doused by guilt. She hates herself for being so selfish.
Wheein needed Yongsun once, when they were young and earnest and shy. Wheein was always soft-hearted and she managed to retain her heart in a way Yongsun couldn't. Now Wheein had spread her wings and soared off in a different direction, somewhere Yongsun couldn't follow. And she was flourishing.
The thought comes unbidden - does anyone still need Yongsun? Does Moonbyul still need Solar? Or would Byulyi too, be happier without her?
Yongsun groans in relief as the hair extensions come out and the makeup comes off. Once she's home, she can change into some comfy clothes and collapse on the couch.
"Yong, are you going home now?"
She doesn't bother correcting Byulyi for the lack of honorific. It's not like she would listen to Yongsun's half-hearted scolding anyway.
"Yeah. You coming with?"
Of course she is.
Despite what the fans might think, she and Byulyi weren't- aren't… anything. They had discussed it. In cloaked metaphor, in euphemism, in general terms. In secluded corners of crowded rooms, once Yongsun's clumsy, earnest desire was too difficult to suppress and too obviously reciprocated to be ignored.
Byulyi had slowly, haltingly, begun to speak of risk. Of how Mamamoo was Wheein's and Hyejin's as much as it was theirs. Of RBW staff and how company scandals affected career prospects. It was too much of a risk, it had consequences beyond them. She was right, of course.
Stupid, selfless Byulyi.
Of the two of them, Yongsun always forged ahead while Byul slipped through the trail she left. Yongsun was always the one to reach for what she wanted, consequences be damned. Maybe that made her selfish. Maybe it made her brave. And maybe Yongsun was imagining the invitation in Byulyi's gaze. A gleam that almost asked to be challenged. Like she was looking for a fight. It was probably wishful thinking.
Yongsun had nodded, unable to make eye contact, and let the silence settle. Because when it came to Byulyi, Yongsun was a coward. She always had been.
The drive home is mostly spent in comfortable silence, as Byulyi scrolls through Weibo and Yongsun stares out at the road, hands at ten and two. Work was work, and that was all she could really say about it. It was just another day that they needed to reach the end of.
Byulyi hunches over like a grandmother to inspect the contents of the fridge. "Leftover rice?"
"You really know how to treat a lady, Moon Byulyi. Offering me my own food in my own house."
Byulyi rolls her eyes because they both know that she will end up preparing the food and washing the dishes while Yongsun showers. They both know that the mental effort of cooking after a long day is usually the straw that breaks Yongsun's back, makes her irritable and miserable.
It's why Byulyi comes over so often after work, even though their social batteries have long since drained and they can barely stand to be in each other's presence.
Yongsun towels her hair dry and pulls the robe around her tight. She feels more like a person and less like a deflated pancake of a singer after a hot shower. Byulyi, as usual, has haphazardly set the table and is currently balancing two full bowls of fried rice. They sit down to eat.
"Is Yonghee unnie coming home tonight?"
"Probably not."
"Hmm."
"What does that mean?
"Hmm? I'm just- like... responding to what you said."
Yongsun frowns. "Did you stir through the rice before reheating it? Half my bowl is still cold."
"Then go reheat it yourself."
"Yeah, I'm going to." she huffs, "I'm just asking if you mixed it."
"I did mix it!"
Being with Byulyi is easy in its familiarity. It's easy to fall into another meaningless argument, and just as easy to lapse into silence once the bickering has run its course. What's harder is meeting Byulyi's eyes once there is nothing to pad out the silence.
Byulyi is off limits. Not a possibility. Yongsun almost tried, once, but her groupmate pre-emptively shut things down before either of them could cross the line. But maybe now that their glory days were passed... who would care if a couple of washed-up third gen idols moved in together? Adopted a cat? These days, it felt like most people already knew. Or suspected, at least.
Yongsun hesitates as they prepare to part ways for the night: Byulyi to the guest room that has become hers in all but name, and Yongsun to her empty double bed.
She speaks before she can second-guess herself. "Byul-ah."
Yongsun has spent years slowly learning about the LGBTQ community, and she doesn't quite know if she belongs there. She doesn't know if she likes women, only that she loves Byulyi. Loving Byulyi isn't a choice. Perhaps it was, at one point, but now it is so deeply ingrained that it is simply another part of her and the natural order of things, like how the sun rises and sets.
Yongsun doesn't need a wedding or a ring. She just wants a home. Someone to come home to. She has always reached for what she wanted, in her career and in life, no matter what anyone else said. Why should this time be any different?
Because it's her. Yongsun's mind whispers, unhelpfully. She's different. Unlike anyone you have ever known.
Byulyi is staring at her weirdly, because she's been silent for too long. And Yongsun is terrified, but just this once, she has to try.
"Do you want to join me?"
Byulyi's eyebrows raise in a horrifyingly suggestive gesture and Yongsun immediately takes it all back. Moon Byulyi was the most annoying and awful coworker Yongsun had ever had to deal with, and that was saying something considering some of the interviewers and staff they had encountered over the years.
"Aish, not like that you-" Yongsun is speechless with indignation, so she marches over and smacks Byulyi in the arm. She feels like she's twenty again, infuriated by the greasy flirting and enchanted by the adoration lying beneath it.
Byulyi is laughing, but it's in a good way, at least Yongsun hopes it's in a good way. She can feel the heat rising in her cheeks, only worsened by the fact she knows Byulyi enjoys getting a rise out of her. Yongsun smacks her again for good measure.
"I know, I know," Byulyi catches her hand before she can take it back, still breathless with laughter. "I'm sorry."
"You better be."
"Did you mean that in a... way," Byulyi softens then, ducking her head, so shy and hopeful.
Yongsun thinks she knows what Byulyi is trying to say, she hopes, she hopes so much it threatens to choke her. Byulyi has been by her side, unwavering through so many seasons. Thousands of sunrises and sunsets. They are already partners in so many senses of the word. What's one more?
"Because, I… well, yes." Byulyi's grin blossoms slowly, exuberant and childlike.
Yongsun has never seen anything more spectacular. She wants to preserve it in a picture. She wants to see it every morning for the rest of her life. She wants to kiss it off Byulyi's infuriatingly beautiful face.
And Yongsun always gets what she wants.