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Yoonchae doesn’t have a list of ‘things that annoy her most on this planet and in life’ but if she did, mosquitos would be number one on that list.
And if she were to include people, Megan would definitely be on that list. Some days, at least. Today, for sure, as she is glancing up from her phone and bats her eyelashes at Yoonchae, acting all innocent. “What’s up?”
Yoonchae feels her eyebrow twitch. “That’s my seat.”
Megan tilts her head, clearly amused. “Your seat? You sure about that?” She looks around, feigning a search. “I don’t see your name on it.” And then she has the nerve to shrug.
Yoonchae folds her arms across her chest. She’s really not in the mood for Megan’s games. “You saw I sat there.”
“When?”
“Before.”
“Before what?”
“Before you—” Yoonchae sighs, a little huff of irritation. “You’re being annoying.”
And that's it. She is not falling for the obvious rage-bait. Not today. No. She doesn’t want to raise her voice here, in the dressing room, with so many unfamiliar faces around them.
She turns around, determined to walk away and ignore Megan. She's just about to step forward when she feels a pair of arms snake around her waist. It happens so fast that she barely has any time to register what’s happening before she’s being yanked backwards and her butt lands on Megan’s thighs.
Yoonchae lets out a startled gasp.
She hears Megan giggle, and she jerks her head to the side to scowl at her incredulously. "What are you doing?"
“What's wrong?” Megan asks, feigning innocence again, as if she didn’t just drag Yoonchae directly onto her lap.
“Let go,” Yoonchae hisses, feeling her cheeks beginning to heat up—maybe from frustration, or embarrassment, or a mix of both.
She tries to put some semblance of distance between them, but Megan’s iron grip on her waist tightens. A pointed chin digs itself into Yoonchae’s shoulder and Yoonchae can feel it when Megan huffs. Her cold, minty breath fans over Yoonchae’s cheek. “Stop squirming. You wanted to sit here.”
“On the chair! Not on—on you!” Yoonchae wiggles around, trying to dislodge Megan’s grasp.
Megan doesn’t give up either. She holds on tight, responding to Yoonchae’s glare with a click of her tongue. “Just say thank you.”
Yoonchae frowns, incredulously. “For what?”
Megan bats her eyelashes innocently. “I’m being a good unnie and sharing my seat with you.”
“It’s my seat,” Yoonchae mumbles, in vain. It’s pointless. She might as well accept her fate. For now. Just wait quietly for a minute or two. Surely Megan is not planning on keeping her captive like this until they have to go up on stage. Right? Surely Megan is not completely out of her mind.
Unfortunately, she really might be. Because she doesn’t let Yoonchae go, not even when someone walks in to inform them that they have twenty minutes left until standby. The man doesn’t say anything when he sees them in that position. He just does a quick double-take and then rushes off to wherever else he needs to be.
Yoonchae wonders if her make-up helps hide the fact that she’s blushing. She hopes so. This is so embarrassing. She wishes for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.
Megan, on the other hand, seems perfectly content with having Yoonchae’s weight on her like this. She is laughing carelessly at something one of the girls said. Her minty breath fans across Yoonchae’s neck, tickling the base of her ear—and Yoonchae finds an invisible dot on the wall to stare at. She is trying very hard to ignore how close this position puts Megan's glossy lips to her jaw. “Don’t complain to me later if you have leg cramps on stage.”
She can’t see Megan's face but she can feel Megan’s infuriating smirk brushing against her neck. "No worries," she says, quietly chuckling, next to Yoonchae's ear. “You’re not gonna hear a single complaint from me.”
It happens again.
Two days later, during movie night. Yoonchae finds herself standing in front of the couch with a bucket full of popcorn, glaring down at Megan. “That’s my seat.”
“So sit.” Megan pats her lap invitingly.
And there’s that smug smile again. Ugh. “Megaaaaaan.”
“Yoonchaeeeee,” Megan mimics her whiny tone, and Yoonchae is seriously considering breaking her nose. For real this time. Because this—this thing that Megan keeps on doing just to mess with her—is getting a little ridiculous.
Yoonchae knows it’s a very immature argument to have with someone and she shouldn’t even bother. She knows that. She could just sit next to Megan. Or somewhere else. There is plenty of room. But it isn’t about that. It’s about principles and the fact that Megan clearly saw her sit there before she went to get the popcorn, and then purposefully stole Yoonchae’s seat—and Yoonchae doesn’t want to let Megan win so easily.
She wants to have the last word but she doesn’t have time to carefully consider her options and plan her next move because the next thing she knows, she is being dragged into Megan's lap. Again.
Yoonchae lets out a tiny squeak of surprise as she cradles the bucket of popcorn in her arms, to avoid making a mess all over the carpet.
Disgruntled, she greets Megan’s falsely innocent face over her shoulder with a scathing scowl.
Megan just blinks back at her, like she has no idea what the issue is, like Yoonchae is the crazy one here. “What? You said you wanted to sit here.”
“Are we interrupting something?” Sophia asks, amused, as she takes a seat on the other couch and reaches for the remote.
The rest of the girls are walking into the living room with more buckets of popcorn, each one of them throwing a questioning glance in Yoonchae’s direction, and Yoonchae feels the need to explain to them—why she’s sitting where she’s sitting—but as soon as she opens her mouth, she realizes she doesn't really have a good reason to justify it. Because she could just…move. It is as simple as that. So. All she ends up saying is: “Megan stole my seat.”
As if that explains everything. Honestly, a small part of her is hoping that Sophia will automatically take it as a cry for help and tell Megan to move, in that mom-voice of hers that's nearly impossible to argue against. But Sophia doesn't do that. She just shakes her head, smiling as she points the remote towards the TV.
"What are we watching?" Dani asks her, around a mouthful of popcorn.
"Fast and Furious."
"Tokyo Drift?"
"No, the second one."
“Oh! Yoonchae likes that one!” Dani looks at her excitedly. “Right?”
“Yes. It has Devon Aoki.”
“Period!” Lara gets up from her seat just to give Yoonchae a high-five. “We love Suki in this house! She’s so fucking hot.”
“She’s so hot,” Megan says that too, almost as an afterthought, as they watch the movie and Suki shows up on the screen. "I had a huge crush on her when I was little.” She digs her chin into Yoonchae’s shoulder, and opens her mouth. Yoonchae gets the message. She feeds Megan a piece of popcorn, trying not to flinch when Megan's tongue meets her fingertips, just briefly but it's enough to send a shiver up her spine. “Wait, have you guys noticed that Suki is kinda Yoonchae-coded?”
No one hears that question amid the noise and music from the movie. Except Yoonchae. Because Megan is practically breathing the words down her neck.
"Coded?" She prompts an explanation as she feeds Megan another piece of popcorn.
"Coded," Megan says, playfully biting after Yoonchae's hand when she draws it back. "Like, your vibes are kinda similar."
“And you think…she is hot?”
“Yeah,” Megan whispers, low and reserved only for Yoonchae to hear.
Oh.
Yoonchae feels that there might be an implication in there, somewhere, maybe, but she'd rather not dwell on it. She returns her attention to the TV, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks and the way her heart just skipped several beats.
The third time it happens, Yoonchae is not surprised. It goes exactly as expected: Megan steals her seat, all smug about it.
But this time, Yoonchae is prepared. This time, she has a solution. “Rock, paper, scissors?” She proposes: “I win, you move.”
That doesn’t wipe the grin from Megan's face, if anything it only makes her even more irritatingly smug, like she is one hundred percent sure she is going to win but decides to humor Yoonchae anyway. “Fine. On three. Ready?”
“Ready.”
She lost.
“Aww." Megan coos. "Poor baby." She pats her lap invitingly.
Yoonchae sighs, but doesn’t bother to complain. She sits down on Megan’s lap and stays there. Even though she doesn't have to. She could just—not sit there. But a deal is a deal. She lost so she has to accept her punishment.
The next time she inevitably finds herself on Megan’s lap, it’s far more embarrassing than the other times. Because it happens during a livestream. So thousands of eyekons get to watch Yoonchae as she gets up from her seat at the table, to show off some new merch the company wanted them to advertise, and then—on her way back to her own seat—she gets tugged by the sleeve and she ends up on one of Megan's thighs.
It’s fine. On the outside, at least, Yoonchae acts cool. Unbothered. She listens to Sophia read out comments, and Lara joking about something in a British accent. Yoonchae smiles and nods when the situation calls for it, joining in with her own responses. It’s fine.
On the inside, though, Yoonchae tries very hard to not panic. Because of course Megan can't just sit still. Of course she always has to do something—like, casually resting a hand on Yoonchae's thigh under the table, or wrapping her arms around Yoonchae's waist.
And as if that isn't distracting enough as it is, Yoonchae quickly realizes that she shouldn't have decided to wear her combo of tank top and low hanging baggy jeans today. Because Megan starts fiddling with the line of her boxers, absently tracing it with her thumbs. "You're so tense," she whispers close to Yoonchae's ear.
And whose fault is that?
Yoonchae resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she just bats Megan's hands away as subtly as she possibly can, and quietly mumbles, “Shut up.”
Unsurprisingly, the response to their fanservice, if Yoonchae can even call it that, was good. The fans loved it. Loved it a little too much, judging by Megan’s grin. “Check this out. They're eating it up. We should do it again.”
Megan calls it fanservice too. So maybe it is. Maybe that's all it is, and Yoonchae shouldn't overthink it and make a big deal out of it. Eyekons loved it, and since eyekons loved it so much, they end up doing it again. And again. And again.
Yoonchae gets used to the cameras recording her while she's sitting on Megan's lap, with Megan casually draped over her like it's perfectly normal. She wouldn’t necessarily say it becomes a habit—her immediately placing herself on Megan like that—but it becomes a thing. Their thing. A thing that Yoonchae does. Multiple times in multiple settings. Sometimes even off-camera. It’s fine. She doesn't want to dwell on it. Fanservice is part of the job after all. It doesn't mean anything.
It’s a Thursday afternoon, as they’re getting ready to film an interview, when Yoonchae realizes she might actually have a problem.
The problem is that there are six neatly lined up chairs organized into a perfect row.
The problem is that Yoonchae is supposed to go and sit in one of those seats.
The problem is that Yoonchae does not do that. For some reason, her brain processes Megan already taking up one of those vacant seats, and her legs are already moving, automatically, in that direction. Before she even knows what she's doing, she plants herself on Megan’s lap. Just like that. It takes her much longer than it should—approximately twenty long seconds, during which all eyes are on her, the girls and the staff around them, all staring at her in complete silence, flabbergasted—until Yoonchae realizes what she just did.
She feels kind of like how she did after the Gnarly Incident, except this time she can’t just throw herself on the floor and turn her back towards the camera to hide her embarrassment. This time she has to be professional. So she silently gets up from Megan’s lap and moves to sit where she was supposed to sit in the first place.
She wonders if her cheeks are as red as they feel. Because they feel like they’re burning up under the harsh lightning from the cameras. She spends the entire interview trying to maintain her composure and pretend nothing happened despite knowing everyone saw, despite the fact that Megan is right next to her, and Yoonchae doesn’t even dare to look at her or acknowledge her presence.
Not until Megan leans a little closer, to whisper, “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes,” Yoonchae answers curtly, but all she can think is: No, actually, I am not in your lap and it bothers me. What is wrong with me?
A warm palm is placed on her thigh, and Yoonchae holds her breath. “Tell me if you’re not feeling well, okay? You need water? I can ask them to get you some water.”
“No. I'm okay.”
The palm stays on her thigh for the rest of the interview. It's supposed to be comforting. Probably. A simple gesture. A simple message: I'm here if you need anything. But it doesn't help. It does nothing to stop her heart from beating so fast, or her thoughts from rolling in, and sending her into a spiral of confusion.
It’s just muscle memory. Yoonchae thinks that’s what it’s called. At least that’s what Google tells her. She filtered through several results that may or may not have included an 'Am I Gay?’ test which she decidedly ignored because muscle memory seems like a more reasonable conclusion. And it's something she can fix. All she needs to do is avoid sitting on Megan’s lap until her brain gets the message and rewires itself.
It's a simple plan and Yoonchae is very committed to it. She sticks to it even when the other girls give her unnecessary glances of concern as if it’s now suddenly not normal that Yoonchae isn't sitting on Megan’s lap—as if it's not normal that she chooses a perfectly fine chair instead of Megan's lap—but she is sure all of that will disappear as soon as they all get used to the new normal, which is the old normal, which is the way things were before and the way things are supposed to be: a world where Yoonchae doesn't sit on Megan's lap.
Yoonchae is so single-mindedly committed to her plan that she makes a big mistake. She thinks she did, at least. She thinks it was a mistake to sit on Dani's lap for a change.
But, in her defense, she was put on the spot when Megan looked at her expectantly from the couch and then Dani looked at her too, and said, "Come sit here, Yoonchip." And then, when Yoonchae hesitated, Dani asked, "Or do you only like to sit on Megan's lap?"
Yoonchae panicked. What was she supposed to do? If she refuses to sit on Dani's lap now—after Dani just asked that—it would automatically confirm that yes, Yoonchae does, in fact, only like to sit on Megan's lap, which is not true. It's definitely not true. So she had a point to prove.
“How many movies are in this franchise?” Manon yawns, ten minutes into the movie.
“Girl, it’s The Fast & The Furious," Lara tells her, "There’s, like, a thousand of them.”
A glance to her left shows Yoonchae that Lara is casually perched on Manon's thigh. So this shouldn't feel like such a big deal, she thinks. It really shouldn't. She has seen Sophia sit on Dani’s lap before too. And Manon's. So it really shouldn't be a problem if Yoonchae sits on Dani's lap instead of Megan’s.
But it just doesn't feel right. She sits there, and she's staring at the screen, and the line of her spine is so rigid it's starting to hurt a little, and she knows it's not Dani's fault. Yoonchae likes Dani. She feels comfortable around Dani. And yet...this doesn't feel right at all. Especially not when she steals a glance at Megan and Megan isn't looking at her. Yoonchae doesn't like that. It's making the guilt hit her gut like a brick. She feels uneasy.
She gets up and goes to the bathroom, and when she comes back, she sits next to Megan. She doesn't really think about it, she just does it.
“Dani is over there,” Megan tells her, barely above a whisper.
“So?”
“So why don’t you go sit on her lap?”
“Because I want to sit here.”
Megan rolls her eyes.
Yoonchae frowns. “Do you have a problem?”
“Me? What’s your problem?” Megan doesn't raise her voice, but she might as well have—with the way her words echo so loudly in Yoonchae's ears. Somehow, Megan looks both angry and hurt and the contrast is unsettling. Yoonchae doesn't like that. She doesn't like hearing Megan's voice like that, all drawn out like it’s about to break. "If I was making you uncomfortable, you should’ve just told me.”
She looks like a kicked puppy. And Yoonchae hates the fact that she caused it. She softens her tone. “You’re not making me uncomfortable.”
“Right."
“You're not," Yoonchae insists. Because it's true. But she's not sure how to phrase the rest of her sentence, how to explain the whole thing. So she falters and she can tell that Megan doesn't believe her. She sighs. “I liked it." There it is. No way out now. She might as well just admit it: "I liked it. That’s why I…It felt wrong to like it so much.”
“Wait—what?" Megan's expression flickers between surprise and confusion, and then it settles into a familiar fond look. "That’s it? You liked sitting on my lap?”
Yoonchae groans quietly. She brings her hands up to cover her face. “Let’s just forget about it.”
"No way." She feels Megan poke her cheek. “Yoonchae. Look at me.”
“Are you going to make fun of me?”
“No. I just want you to look at me.”
She feels Megan’s fingers wrap around her wrists to pull her hands away from her face so their eyes can meet.
“You’re so fucking cute,” Megan says, and Yoonchae can't handle it.
Their faces are too close and Megan's smile is so warm, so bright, it feels like staring directly at the sun. She feels the need to look away. “Shut up.”
"So you like to sit on my lap, huh?"
“Y'all know we can all hear you, right?” Sophia's voice startles them.
The girls burst into laughter.
"Right in front of my salad?!"
“What happened to shame?!"
Megan flips them off, one by one, which only makes them laugh even louder, and Yoonchae thinks if her face wasn’t red before...it certainly is now.