Work Text:
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What if I told you none of it was accidental?
And the first night that you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me?
I laid the groundwork and then, just like clockwork
The dominoes cascaded in a line
What if I told you I’m a mastermind?
And now you’re mine
;;
When Byulyi first joined RBW to be a trainee, she only knew Wheein and Hyejin. They were her comfort zone—familiar accents, easy laughter, the kind of company that made the long training hours bearable even if it took quite a long time for the two younger girls to open up to her due to shyness. But as the days went by, she couldn’t keep her eyes away from a certain girl, she looked younger than her, her round cheeks and bright smile, the kind that softened the harsh fluorescent lights of the practice room. Safe to say she was hooked the very first time she saw her.
Unfortunately for Byulyi, the feeling wasn’t mutual.
When Yongsun noticed Byulyi for the first time, her first thoughts were simple: trouble. The glint in the younger girl’s eyes, the way she carried herself—it was obvious that she wasn’t going to be the quiet and obedient type. Byulyi was going to be nothing but trouble to her. Yongsun braced herself, convinced she was going to be nothing but a headache.
It was finally the monthly evaluation, and Byulyi forgot her heels. Great, she’s going to have an earful from the staff and possibly that one trainee who she swore was younger than her but then learned that the girl was indeed older than her, from what the others whispered and from what Wheein had told her. She looked pretty, but she still didn’t know her name. Byul wonders how she could possibly get her attention, but that’s not important right now. Survival first, daydreams later.
“Here, you can borrow mine.” The girl said, handing her the heels Byulyi desperately needed.
Byulyi blinked up in shock, the very girl she’d been sneaking glances at and holding out a pair of heels. Up close, her smile was brighter, her voice softer than she expected, and certainly stunning like the sun.
Byul scrambled for words, her heart jumping. She was about to stammer out a thank you, you saved my life when—
“Moon Byulyi!”
She jolted, running to the staff with the heels on her hands. “Y-yes!”
“Oh, I see you already have your heels, where did you get those?”
Byulyi’s brain short-circuited. Without thinking, she gestured vaguely at the girl who was watching her from afar. “Oh, that girl let me borrow hers.”
The staff glanced over at Yongsun, gave a curt nod, and waved Byulyi inside. Shocked was an definitely understatement. Yongsun’s mouth fell open, her eyes widened, okay, what the fuck?
Yongsun nearly choked on her own breath. That girl? She sat frozen in her socks, heat crawling her neck. First the shoes, now the blatant lack of respect? This trainee was certainly getting on her nerves now—she knew it from the moment she saw her.
Across the room, Byulyi, however, felt the corners of her mouth twitch as she caught the girl’s stunned expression. Trouble? Maybe. But if it meant she would keep looking her way, then Byulyi didn’t mind one bit.
Perfect, she thought, pulse quick with amusement. Now she’ll never forget me.
After the evaluation, thankfully the CEO and her rap teacher praised her well, saying that she had improved when it comes to rapping and dancing. Relief washed over Byulyi, her heart finally slowing down from the nerves of performing. But even as the staff and the chatter of other trainees faded, her mind wasn’t on the praise, it was on the girl whose heels she was wearing.
The practice room grew quieter, and soon, only the two of them were left. Byulyi was still catching her breath from the nerve-wracking performance when she noticed Yongsun off to the side, slipping her socks back on with a little too much force. Her jaw tight, her eyes deliberately avoiding her.
Byulyi hesitated, chewing on her lip before walking over. “Hey… uh, about earlier.” She rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling very small under the weight of Yongsun’s silence. “I didn’t mean to–well, I panicked, and then I just pointed at you. Sorry about that, it’s probably awkward.”
Yongsun finally looked up to meet her eyes, looking at the girl in front of her in a cold gaze, “Awkward? You called me that girl.”
Byulyi winced. “Right. That too. I just—” she paused, fumbling for words. Then, almost too quickly, she blurted, “I didn’t know your name. I’m Moon Byulyi, by the way. I… should’ve introduced myself properly instead of calling you that.”
That seemed to catch Yongsun off guard. Her frown wavered. “I’ve been told. You don’t know my name?”
“No.” Byulyi’s lip curved into the faintest, sheepish smile. “I know it’s not an excuse but honestly, I thought you were younger than me because you look so young. But then my friend Wheein said that you’re older and she mentioned your name, and… yeah.”
Yongsun blinked at her, once then twice, caught between irritation and the sudden urge to laugh. Trouble, she thought again, but maybe not in the worst way. But then again, she appreciated the younger one for sincerely apologizing to her, and maybe that compliment melted all her anger away.
“And I was wondering if you want to have dinner right now? As an apology and a thank you.” Byulyi mumbled, her cheeks were now tinted pink. Yongsun took the heels from the younger girl's hand, trying to bite back a smile. Trouble, she thought, shaking her head.
“Dinner, huh?”
Byulyi nodded, a little too fast. Trying to look at Yongsun’s eyes. “My treat. I promise!”
That finally made Yongsun smile, that kind that reached her eyes and softened the lingering tension. She slipped her heels to the bag she brought and gave a small shake of her head. “Alright then… but only because it’s your treat and I’m really hungry right now.”
Byulyi’s shoulder relaxed in relief, her grin returning brighter than before. “Anything you want! I’ll even carry your stuff.”
Yongsun laughed quietly, the sound light, almost surprised at herself. Maybe trouble isn’t so bad, she thought again, watching the younger one’s eager expression. “Let’s go then, I’m craving tteokbokki.”
I know, Wheein mentioned. Byulyi thought before trailing behind the older girl, leaving the dance practice room.
The streets outside were already alive with neon signs and the buzz of late-night chatter, but Yongsun walked with the kind of calm that made Byulyi slow down to match her pace. Before long, they found themselves at a small stall tucked into the corner of the block near Byulyi’s dorm, steam curling into the night air as the ahjumma stirred the bubbling sauce.
Byulyi’s stomach growled, but it wasn’t the food that made her chest feel warm—it was the sight of Yongsun leaning forward on the counter, her chin resting on her hand, looking effortlessly radiant under the yellow glow of the streetlight.
“Careful,” Yongsun said when Byulyi picked up a piece too quickly, her voice teasing but soft.
Byulyi blew dramatically on the ricecake before popping it into her mouth. “Worth the risk,” she mumbled around the bite, earning another laugh from the older girl.
The two ate in silence, not wanting to break the peaceful silence between them, until Yongsun asked, “So, where are you from?”
“Bucheon,” Byulyi answered quickly, sitting up straighter. “Not too far from here. But still… It feels different being in Seoul.” She smiled sheepishly, playing with the teokkbokki on her plate. “Like everything’s bigger. Faster.”
Yongsun hummed, nodding as she stirred the sauce idly. “I’m from Seoul and I even feel like I don’t belong here sometimes.”
Byul leaned in, watching her closely. She wanted to ask where do you belong, then? But held back, too afraid it’d sound too heavy or if she’s prying too much. Instead she murmured, “Then maybe that’s why we met here. In between.”
Yongsun glanced at her, the corner of her lips twitching like she wanted to smile but wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. And still, Byulyi felt it—like she’d walked into the older girl’s orbit without even realizing it.
;;
After that night, Yongsun suddenly realized how Byul was practically everywhere, like she was trying to make her presence known to her. But she never thought too deeply about it.
In the cafeteria, Byul always seemed to appear right after she sat down, sliding into the seat across from her with an easy grin and a carton of milk saying that Wheein and Hyejin left her to go eat outside. On days Yongsun lingered after vocal class, Byul would somehow be in the hallway, leaning against the wall as if she’d been passing by. At the vending machine, when Yongsun reached for her usual coffee, Byul popped up behind her with coins in hand, laughing about how she needed a drink too.
It all seemed natural— too natural, a harmless coincidence. Yongsun doesn’t realize that Byul practically timed her steps to hers, that she paid attention to the smallest details just to cross paths. To Yongsun, it felt like the universe was nudging them together.
“Hyejin! Wheein! Let’s go practice now!” Byul chirped, tugging both their arms with just enough force to herd them towards the practice room.
Hyejin groaned, dragging her feet. “What’s with the rush, unnie? We still have 10 more minutes in our break.” She pouted, but Byul was too busy dragging them.
“Yeah,” Wheein added, chewing the leftover bread in her other hand, suspiciously squinting up at her. “Since when are you eager to practice?”
Byulyi only grinned, masking the completed calculation in her head. This was the time Yongsun usually slipped into the practice room, revising all of her steps and how to improve the quality of her moves. If they “just happened” to be there too, then crossing paths was inevitable. “They’re choosing who to debut in the next month or so, can’t a girl be hardworking?” she said lightly, pulling them along the way.
And as just expected, when they pushed the door open, Yongsun was already inside, her hair was tied in a neat ponytail and stretching her arms and legs as the speakers hummed to life. Byul felt the corner of her lips twitch up, hiding her satisfaction.
Yongsun glanced up at them, surprise flicking in her eyes before softening into something lighter. “Oh–-you guys are here already.”
“Mhm, Byulyi unnie dragged us,” Wheein said playfully, shooting her a grin.
The reminder tugged a memory back to Yongsun. Just a few days ago, the CEO had announced the groups for their next evaluation:
The trainees were gathered in the main hall, tension buzzing in the air as the instructors shuffled their clipboards and the CEO watching the trainees with hawk eyes. “For this month’s evaluation, and the following months after that, we’ll be mixing the trainees.”
Murmurs rippled through the hall. Yongsun had clasped her hands in front of her, silently praying she wouldn’t be matched with strangers she couldn’t sync with. Truth be told, there were only a few people she really ever knew and really connected with but it didn’t hurt to wish things favored her way.
The list was read name by name, each group pulling sighs of relief or groans of dread. When her name finally echoed through the room, it was followed by, “Ahn Hyejin, Jung Wheein, Moon Byulyi.”
Yongsun had blinked in surprise, then exhaled a sigh of relief quietly. Familiar names, she hung out with them once or twice already, or maybe a couple of times with just Byulyi, but it was just friendly. She caught the three of them waving excitedly, Wheein nearly bouncing in her seat, Hyejin lifting a hand with her usual calm smile, and Byulyi flashing a sweet grin she saw multiple times already that brought her comfort.
Back then, Yongsun only thought it was nice luck, that the universe had spared her in the awkwardness of strangers. She didn’t know Byulyi had mentioned Wheein her preferences carefully weeks ago, and Wheein had a way of dropping things to the trainers when no one was paying attention. A small nudge here, a little push there.
The older woman didn’t know but Byulyi’s eyes lingered on her, satisfied, as if the groupings had fallen perfectly into place.
“Like I said, can’t a girl just be hardworking?” Byulyi repeated herself, already tying her hair back into a ponytail, her bangs falling softly on her forehead.
Yongsun shook her head with a small smile, returning to her stretches. “Hardworking, huh? More like dragging people against their will.”
Hyejin let out a dramatic groan, already going to her spot in the dance whilst stretching her arms, “Tell me about it, unnie.”
The older girl laughed then clapped her hands—once, twice—the sound echoing in the practice room leaving no room for teasing or joking. Heads turned in her direction, giving her their full attention. Then she spoke, her voice gentle but commanding: “Let’s practice then?”
Byulyi slid into her own spot with practiced ease, watching how Yongsun’s tone instantly shifted the room into focus. It was like a switch—one second she’s laughing with them, the next commanding, and every time Byulyi watched it happen, she felt herself leaning towards it. She adjusted her stance, stretching casually, but already lining herself up in the mirror so that Yongsun would always be within her sightline.
“From the top?” Yongsun asked, scanning them.
“From the top,” Byulyi echoed almost automatically, her voice low but steady, catching Yongsun’s eyes for a beat longer than necessary.
Three full run-throughs went by and the girls were exhausted, sprawled out on the floor in a messy heap of limbs and sweat. Hyejin had her towel draped over her face, muffling her groans and complaints, while Wheein laid flat on her back, arms stretched dramatically like a starfish.
“I’m starving,” Wheein announced, rolling onto her side to face Hyejin.
“Same,” Hyejin grumbled, dragging herself upright. She grabbed her wallet from her bag, nudging Wheein with her foot. “Let’s go raid the convenience store before we starve to death.” Wheein stood up slowly, her body already screaming at her due to soreness, then she turned to look at Yongsun, “Unnie, want anything?”
Yongsun blinked, still catching her breath, then smiled. “Just water’s fine. Thank you.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me?” Byulyi playfully said with a pout, the two younger girls rolled their eyes affectionately, “We already know what drink you want, unnie.” Wheein chuckled, already tugging Hyejin towards the door. “Don’t practice without us!”
The door shut behind them with a soft thud, leaving the room quiet again. Yongsun exhaled, then stood up once more and walked back to the center of the mirrored room. She tied her ponytail tighter, a little strand of hair falling against her cheek as she set her stance again.
Byulyi, still sitting on the floor, tilted her head. She could’ve gone with the two girls, picked out a snack, but instead she stayed put. Waiting. Watching. When Yongsun’s reflection caught hers in the mirror, she smiled faintly and pushed herself to her feet.
“You’re really going again?” Byul asked, brushing sweat off her forehead as she walked closer.
“Mm,” Yongsun hummed, already sliding into position, “If I don’t fix the timing and how I execute my steps now, I’ll probably mess it up during evaluations.”
Byulyi’s lips curved, just enough to hide the satisfaction threading through her chest, “On which part are you confused at?” She asked lightly, already positioning herself next to Yongsun as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Yongsun blinked at her in the mirror, a little surprised at the proposition, then shook her head with a small laugh. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” Byulyi cut in smoothly with a smile, already mirroring her position. She tilted her head, waiting. “Show me.”
Yongsun hesitated for a second, then turned back towards the mirror, counting herself in under her breath. The music instantly filled the room as she moved through the steps, more deliberate this time, suddenly hyperaware with how Byulyi’s eyes were scanning her, whilst trying to search for the moment she always stumbles. Byul followed, a half-beat behind marking her steps, her sharp eyes scanning not just the rhythm but the subtle way Yongsun’s shoulders tensed and the tiny shift in her footwork.
“There.” Byul pointed out gently, running to pause the music before returning to her spot next to Yongsun. “You rush to do the next step, if you just hold that for another second, it lines up better.” The younger girl demonstrated beside her so Yongsun could see where she went wrong properly.
Yongsun paused, surprise flickering across her face. “You noticed that?”
Byulyi’s breath caught, but her grin covered it quickly. I notice everything you do, is what she would’ve said if she was a bit braver, if she wasn’t so intent on hiding her feelings behind easy smiles. Instead, she only shrugged lightly, eyes fixed on the mirror.
Instead she just said: “It’s hard not to.”
They held each other’s gaze a moment too long, but Yongsun broke it first, turning back toward the mirror with a faint frown of concentration. “I’ll… try it again.” she said simply, catching her breath, already shifting her stance into starting position.
To Yongsun, it was nothing more than practice—another correction, another chance to improve. And she was glad Byulyi was there beside her, to be the one doing this with her.
Byulyi, though, stayed rooted for a second longer, the corner of her lips tugging upward before she followed suit, slipping back into the rhythm as if nothing had happened.
And just like clockwork, the two girls bursted in the room with plastic bags full of snacks and drinks in hand just as Byulyi finished teaching Yongsun.
“We're back, unnies!” Wheein announced while holding up the bags like a trophy. Hyejin stumbled up right behind her, muttering about how heavy everything was.
Yongsun was startled slightly at the noise, her voice drifting away from the mirror and Byulyi both. She jogged over to help the younger girls, the corners of her mouth lifting at the sight of all the food.
Byulyi exhaled softly, masking the quiet flicker of disappointment with a grin as she trailed after them. It was progress though, little by little Yongsun was slowly opening up to her. Sometimes Yongsun would cling to her after practice or ask her out for dinner, along with Wheein and Hyejin, but still, it was progress for her.
And for now, that was enough.
;;
After their short snack break, a staff member called Yongsun over with a polite wave. She blinked, cheeks still puffed from the last bite of kimchi and kimbap, then hurriedly set down her drink. “I’ll be back,” she announced, brushing the crumbs off from her lap to at least look a bit presentable before following the staff out.
Byulyi’s gaze lingered on her retreating figure, watching her close the door as she left the room. She didn’t notice how Wheein was practically staring at her with a suspicious look on her face, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I think I should be the one asking you that, unnie.” Byulyi blinked, caught off guard by Wheein’s sudden question. She ripped open the chip bag and stuffed one in her mouth before answering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Wheein arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by her answer. “Mhm. Right. You totally didn’t look like you were an abandoned puppy when Yongsun unnie left.”
The older choked on her chip she was chewing, unprepared by the statement, coughing as she scrambled for the water bottle beside her. “What—pft—You’re imagining things!” she sputtered between coughs, avoiding all eye contact with the girls in front of her.
Wheein only leaned back on her hands, utterly unfazed. “I’m just saying what I saw.”
Hyejin cracked up, rolling onto her side with a loud laugh. “She totally likes Yongsun unnie, I can tell.”
“Okay, what the fuck!”
The words left Byulyi’s mouth louder than intended, echoing off the studio walls, her face was hot—burning hot—with the way Hyejin and Wheein were looking at her with their shit eating grins was not helping her at all.
Hyejin kicked her legs in the air, still laughing. “It’s written all over her face, oh my god!”
“I like her so what!” Byul shouted, trying to hide her burning face in her palms.
The room froze, Wheein and Hyejin exchanging looks before nursing out laughing again, their voices bouncing off the mirrors.
“Unnie actually admitted it!” Hyejin shouted, laughing as if she just heard the funniest joke on earth. Byulyi groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Can you guys not—”
The door clicked open slowly.
All three snapped their heads up as Yongsun walked back in, a folder tucked under her arm. She paused, turning her head slightly at the scene: Hyejin half on the floor wheezing, Wheein covering her mouth trying to hold back giggles, and Byulyi sitting stiffly like she’d been caught committing a crime.
“What’s going on here?” Yongsun asked, brows knitting slightly in confusion as she closed the door behind her, walking up to them. “Why are you so red, Byul-ah?”
Byulyi’s heart practically stopped. She waved her hands frantically, shaking her head. Byul couldn’t afford to reveal her feelings right now, not when her plan is working slowly. “Uh… Hyejin was just telling a joke earlier, and the aircon is probably not working properly!”
Yongsun blinked, tilted her head slightly at the explanation like a confused puppy. She glanced at the aircon, humming softly. “Hm, I’ll tell the staff if they can check it out later.” Then, with a small smile, she added, “Don’t overdo yourselves, alright? We still have to run the routine a few more times.”
Byulyi nodded too quickly, gripping her bottle like it could save her. “You don’t have to tell the staffs, unnie!” Wheein said, popping up beside Byulyi with a sweet smile.
The oldest blinked at Wheein’s sudden interjection. “Hm? Why not?”
“Because it’s fine! Really,” Wheein said, her tone just a touch too cheerful as she slung an arm around Byulyi's shoulders. “Byulyi unnie was just… uhm, overheating. From practice. She revised her moves while you were gone.”
Byulyi nearly choked again, nudging Wheein’s side lightly, trying to shrug her off. Hyejin’s laughter slipped out before she could stop it, earning another puzzled look from Yongsun.
“Overheating?” Yongsun repeated, her eyebrows furrowing. She reached out, pressing the back of her hand lightly against Byulyi’s forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a fever…”
Byulyi froze, her pulse sky rocketing. Her brain short-circuited at the simple touch, she felt her face become hot all of the sudden once more, and all she could manage was a strangled, “I’m fine, I swear!”
Totally oblivious, Yongsun withdrew her hand with a satisfied nod. “Good. Don't push yourself too hard, hm?”
Behind her, Wheein and Hyejin were practically dying trying not to burst into fits of laughter. Byulyi glared at them which earned another teasing look from the two before walking towards the speaker to start the song.
“Okay! Let’s run it back!” The music filled the room again, bass thumping against the mirrors as the four of them fell back into position.
;;
A few months went by, and the late-night practices, endless evaluations, and small battles with exhaustion finally paid off—the four of them were chosen to debut. The news came in a meeting room, delivered as casually as if it weren’t about to change their lives forever.
Yongsun’s breath hitched first, her hand instinctively reaching for Byulyi’s. Her fingers brushed against the younger’s knuckles before curling around them fully, their hands fit perfectly as if they were made for each other, squeezing tight like she needed something solid to anchor herself. Byulyi froze for half a second, her mind blanking at the warmth pressing against her skin.
Then Yongsun laughed—bright, breathless, a sound that filled the whole room. “Byul-ah, are you hearing this?” She whispered, disbelief threading her voice.
Byulyi could only nod, her throat too tight to form words. She’d dreamed about this moment for years, but hearing it from Yongsun’s lips—seeing the way her eyes sparkled through the tears threatening to spill—made it feel unreal in the best way.
“I hear it,” Byulyi finally managed, her voice low, steady only because Yongsun’s hand was grounding her. “It’s really happening, unnie.”
Across the table, Wheein let out a squeal so sharp it made Hyejin wince, before the two collapsed into each other’s arms, already crying and laughing all at once. Their chaos only made Yongsun laugh harder, her grip on Byulyi’s hand tightening as if pulling her into the joy, into the disbelief, into this.
Byulyi didn’t let go. She couldn’t. Not when Yongsun’s warmth was pressed so firmly against hers, not when her smile was brighter than any dream Byulyi had dared to have.
For the first time, it didn’t feel like chasing anymore. It felt like standing side by side at the start of something they’d only ever prayed for.
;;
The music finally stopped, echo fading against the mirrors. All four of them slumped to the ground in a messy pile of limbs and heavy breaths. The group had just one another run-through of their debut song, practicing until their limbs were about to fall off.
“I’m done,” Wheein groaned, rolling onto her back dramatically. “I think my soul just left my body.”
“Your soul left three hours ago,” Hyejin muttered, throwing a tower over her face. But a beat later she sat up, sighing. “Okay, I’m calling it. Yongsun unnie, Byul, you two stay if you want, but we’re heading out.”
Wheein perked up almost instantly, already scrambling for her bag. “Finally! I need food before I collapse.”
“Food, and maybe ten hours of sleep,” Hyejin added dryly, tugging Wheein towards the door.
Yongsun started to protest—habit more than anything—but Wheein grinned back at her. “We’ll see you at the dorm, unnie! Don’t stay too late!”
Before Yongsun could answer, the door shut with a soft thud, leaving the room suddenly too quiet, the air heavier without their chaos. Only the hum of the lights, their reflections in the mirror, and the quiet rhythm of their breaths remained.
The dance practice room was dim except for the strip of fluorescent light buzzing above them, the mirrored walls catching the sight of two tired trainees collapsed on the floor. This room was basically their third home—always echoing with music, footsteps, and now just their soft breathing.
Byulyi’s gaze lingered on Yongsun, and for a moment her mind wandered back to a few months ago, when she’d coaxed the older trainee into moving into their dorm for good. Yongsun had hesitated back then, insisting she didn’t want to trouble the younger girls, but Byulyi had been stubborn, but Byulyi had worked her sweet charms. And in the end, Yongsun gave in, lugging her suitcase into the cramped room they all shared. It had been awkward at first, but now it felt impossible to picture the dorm without her laughter filling it, or the practice room without her humming in between breaks.
Byulyi shook off the memory and grabbed two bottles of water, padding over to where Yongsun sat on the floor. She handed one to her before sinking down beside her.
The older woman took the bottle with a small thanks before drinking it, “Can you believe it?” she said in between gulps. “In just a few months… we might be actually standing on stage for real.”
Yongsun smiled faintly, hugging her knees to her chest. “I think about it a lot. The lights, the audience… singing like my life depends on it.” She let out a small laugh, more out of nervousness. “It’s what I’ve been chasing since I was a kid, we’ll do good right?”
Byulyi nodded, looking at her profile. “Of course we will, Yong.”
The room fell quiet after that, their dreams lingering between them like a fragile glass—beautiful, but dangerous if mishandled. Yongsun fiddled with the cap of her bottle, her brows furrowing as if she were fighting herself.
Now’s the right time, right? Is it now or never?
Then, suddenly, the words stumbled out before she could even process what she said.
“I like you, Byul.”
Oh.
Oh.
Byulyi’s head snapped toward her, her heart slamming against her ribs. Yongsun’s eyes were avoiding hers, cheeks pink, but her voice didn’t waver. “I like you so much but I’m scared. Debut is so close, and I don’t want anything to ruin what we’ve worked so hard for, you know how harsh the public is. I want to put my career first.”
The silence stretched, heavy, until Byulyi finally breathed out, slow and careful. “I… feel the same, unnie. I’ve liked you for a while now.” A faint smile pulled at her lips despite the storm inside her chest. “And yeah, our dream comes first. We worked so hard for it. But if you’re okay with it…” She took a deep breath before continuing, “We can take it slow. No rushing. Just… us, quietly. Until everything checks out.”
Relief softened Yongsun’s features. She leaned her head against Byulyi’s shoulder, a small, soft smile on her lips. The older one looked at their reflection in the mirror, they fitted too perfectly, like they were both made for each other. “Slow sounds good.”
Byulyi exhaled, letting the weight of it sink in. She reached for Yongsun’s hand and held it tightly. They weren’t just chasing the dream anymore—they were choosing each other, too. Carefully, quietly, but with a certainty that made her heart full.
;;
Backstage was a blur of makeup brushes, last-minute checks, and the staff barking reminders over the noise. The four of them huddled together in their stage outfits, hands stacked in the middle, but Yongsun’s nerves were written all over her face. Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes darting like she couldn’t sit still.
Byulyi leaned closer, knowing her girlfriend’s telltale signs of nervousness, brushing her shoulder against Yongsun’s in a way that looked casual to everyone else. But when Yongsun finally glanced at her, Byulyi’s grin was steady, warm, and unshakable. She mouthed, breathe, then slipped her pinky against Yongsun’s for just a second before pulling away. The cameras couldn’t catch it, but Yongsun’s heart did.
“You’ll be amazing, love,” Byulyi whispered lowly, so only she could hear. “You always are.”
The staff called their name, telling them to get ready. Yongsun’s chest felt a little lighter. She took one last deep breath, her eyes lingering on Byulyi’s back as they lined up.
The noise of the crowd bled through the curtains—cheers, chants, an energy so loud it made her skin prickle. Yongsun swallowed hard, clutching her mic tighter. But when Byulyi’s hand brushed hers one last time before the lights came up, she felt steady.
The stage lights flared to life, and the curtains parted. In an instant, the world shifted—suddenly it was blinding spotlights, thunderous screams, and the pulsing intro of Mr. Ambiguous.
They moved on instinct, the countless hours of practice guiding every step, every breath. Yongsun hit her first note, her voice trembling for half a heartbeat before it soared, stronger with each line. The crowd responded immediately, their cheers rising, and she couldn’t stop the grin that broke across her face.
Byulyi’s rap came sharp and confident, her swagger perfectly timed. But between lines, her gaze flicked to Yongsun—just once, quick enough to hide, long enough to remind her why she was here. Yongsun caught it, and the nerves in her chest burned away, replaced by something hotter, brighter.
The song rushed by like a dream—vocals weaving, harmonies rising, laughter threatening to bubble out when they caught each other’s eyes mid-dance. And then it was over.
As the final pose held and the lights dimmed, the four of them gasped for breath, chests heaving, ears ringing with the roar of the audience. Yongsun’s heart thundered, not just from adrenaline, but from the way Byulyi’s smile glowed in the dark.
They had done it. Together.