Chapter Text
Like everything else in life, it started at a park.
Not everything in life is like that, though. It’s more of a euphemism than anything; nothing interesting has ever happened in a park. Especially not the park close to Soyeon’s house. Maybe one thing.
She remembers it, distantly. Five years old, and she’d wandered into that park. Her mom had left the door open accidentally, she’d been frying fish and the last time the door hadn’t opened it had smelled like the ocean, crystal clear and salty, for a week. Sohee had been a baby then, her bright eyes looking at hers as if she was asking “What the hell are you doing?” Soyeon had only smiled, ruffled her hair, and then gone out on her adventure to take on the world.
Her world was still small at the time. Her school, her neighborhood, and the park at the center of the roundabout you had to take to leave the compound. To be honest, it was probably more than a little dangerous that it was there, but nobody cared. Not a soul had yet been hit by a car, so it was pretty much okay.
She’d wanted to swing on the matte blue swing that nobody used because one half of it was hanging off the bars by one link and a rope. It wasn’t strong, sure, but it got the job done and she got to swing for a really long time as long as her mom didn’t look over and yank her off.
While, yes, the swing was ugly and rickety, it did its job remarkably well. Soyeon swung higher than she had in months, and right when the swing was about to loop the pole (something she’d only heard from rumors in kindergarten) she heard a scream. Deep and guttural, like the ones she saw all the time in cartoons.
A loop. The swing wasn’t much higher, but it was certainly annoying to jump down. The scream had turned into sobs that started to muffle until they were barely heard. Soyeon turned her head around, trying to find the source of the noise, until her eyes settled on a bush that moved a bit too oddly for it to really just be a bush.
A girl with eyes wide open stared back at her. Her eyes were red, and the sleeves of her sweater were darkened with tears.
Soyeon looked at her, confused. “You’re not from here.”
The girl looked at her, still sniffling and curled into herself. When she spoke, she tried to enunciate her words to hide the shakiness of her pronunciation. “No! I am!”
“Why are you crying?” Soyeon asked. “Are you scared?” Frowning, Soyeon called out. “Mom? Dad? Crying!”
The girl’s head shook, furiously. More than Soyeon had ever seen someone shake their head in their life. “No! My… parents.” She said it slowly, trying to seem more sure than she looked. “They are not here. Not here.”
“You don’t make sense. Why are you crying?” Soyeon didn’t really want to repeat herself, but she felt like she needed to. This conversation was really going nowhere.
“Me.” She pointed to herself. “I am Yuqi. You are?” She made a gesture with arms open like a river.
“Me?” Soyeon blinked. “Oh! I am Soyeon! If your parents are gone, come.” Soyeon got up, walking toward her house, only stopping when she realized Yuqi was not following her. “Come!”
Yuqi gripped onto the bush in an attempt to stand up, but she couldn’t. Soyeon walked closer, inspecting to find that Yuqi had injured her knee, a nasty gash with blood dripping down it like a melted ice-cream cone.
Yuqi, her name was, looked even more scared now. Her eyes welled with tears as she whispered. “Is it really bad? It doesn’t hurt so much.”
Soyeon had two choices: tell the truth and see this girl cry, or lie and get her to the house. She easily chose the latter.
“Not too bad. Come, my mom can help your cut.” Soyeon extended her hand for Yuqi to grab onto, and they hobbled back to Soyeon’s house together in the not-so-great safety of the roundabout.
Soyeon’s mother had been going crazy with worry the whole time she’d been gone, yelling and shouting, even questioning a two-year-old Sohee to give her some semblance of an idea. So when Soyeon came through the front door, she barely restrained herself from screaming in both joy and pain.
“Soyeon, what did I tell you about leaving the house?” But Soyeon didn’t listen, trying to motion to someone outside. It was Yuqi, hobbling in with Soyeon’s scarf wrapped tightly around her knee.
“What? Huh? I—” Soyeon’s mom stopped herself. “Come here, let me help you. I don’t get paid for this anyway.”
That was eleven years ago. They’re sixteen and fifteen, and Soyeon thinks she’s in love with her best friend.
Not unfounded to say, either. Yuqi’s been there for her through everything. Like when she broke her leg in sixth grade when the swing finally snapped mid-rotation and Yuqi and her newfound muscles carried her to the nurses’ room. All that for them to tell her to ice it, my god.
Even on the slower days, when Yuqi asks to listen to Soyeon’s music. It’s just a bunch of pirated programs cobbled together to create something that could resemble music, but Yuqi says she likes it. Sometimes she sings along, too. It’s a joke, mostly, but she sounds beautiful.
It’s on one of those days when Yuqi turns to Soyeon. They’re sitting in the grass under the tall willow tree Soyeon had scraped her knee climbing, as Soyeon clicks, drags, and drops melodies together, humming all the while. The sun is setting, and the sunset, clouded by the leaves, is turning a beautifully mixed shade of red and pink.
Yuqi turns to look at Soyeon, eyes tunneled on her. She’s gone through a bit of a rebellious phase, hair bleached and assorted with colorful hair-clips to hide the fraying on the ends.
A sigh. “Soyeon? I think I love you.” Yuqi lays her head on Soyeon’s lap, hands stretching out like a wet cat. Soyeon, to her credit, doesn’t handle it terribly. She just freezes.
“I…?” She’s rendered speechless.
Yuqi raises her head groggily, pouting. “You don’t love me?”
Soyeon shakes her head rapidly. “No, never? I do! Love you!”
Yuqi shrugs. “You love me, and I love you. I thought you knew that already, but I wanted to make sure.” She says it so casually, like it’s a fact of life now. And maybe it is.
The Richard Ness School of Arts offers a variety of programs. Soyeon knows this because she read through the pages of the program like a mantra, reading them over and over before getting accepted. Producing. Maybe singing, if she really wanted. Yuqi had decided she wanted to sing a long, long time ago. That’s what she said, she’d really just made a kneejerk decision one day and surprisingly committed to it.
So school went how school went, with evil teachers and new friends, particularly Cho Miyeon, a senior in the orchestra, and Kim Minnie, a transfer student who liked writing sheet music.
The cafeteria was serving roasted carrots and mashed potatoes the day Yuqi had mentioned that CUBE had offered her a contract. She’d shoveled it into her mouth, swallowing as fast as she could because she’d clearly never heard of pacing herself before she choked.
It was like a secret she didn’t want to tell, first murmuring it over lunch as it fizzled and got carried away with the wind.
“Yuqi?” Miyeon asked. “Nobody can hear you when you talk with food in your mouth.”
Minnie raised a fork. “It’s not helping that it’s so loud. I told you we should have just eaten in the library.”
Yuqi shook her head, fervently. “I don’t like the library. The librarian doesn’t like me a whole lot anyway. I see her and get chills down my spine.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you’re loud.” Minnie points out. “Libraries are a place of quiet, remember?”
Yuqi pouts, but Miyeon hasn’t forgotten the earlier encounter. “Yuqi, spit it out. It can’t be that bad, what you want to say.”
Yuqi’s eyes widen in fear, as she takes a deep breath before saying it all at once. “I got an offer to become a trainee at CUBE after the open auditions.”
The table is stunned to silence. Debuting as an idol was faintly a dream they’d all had, something to laugh about because it would obviously never be true. It was stupid to think it was, or would be. A fleeting thought like sand that slipped through your fingers when you held it. But for Yuqi, it held stature. It was real. And it scared Soyeon, too much.
Miyeon and Minnie, to their credit, passed it off as if nothing had happened, conversing with each other about the evil teacher that taught their split class and the lovebirds who sat at the back, but Soyeon couldn’t focus on joining them.
Yuqi was relaxed, looking around the table, before looking at Soyeon, worried. She extended her hand out, and Soyeon took it, grateful.
“We can talk about this later, okay? At the park. Like we always do.”
Soyeon nodded. “Of course, jagiya. You know I love you?”
Yuqi smiled, whispering words only Soyeon could hear. “Cross my heart and hope to die. We’re always and forever.”
Soyeon moved to the other side where Yuqi was sitting, as they leaned on each other, intertwined.
The chains holding them together began to jangle. Like an iron chain, connected. Linked together, in a way, inevitable.
The rope swing had broken a long time ago, and the swingset was long gone. The chains had rusted and slowly corroded until rendered unusable, so Soyeon and Yuqi had to sit on the bench. Nothing bad about it, just not preferred.
Yuqi had looked at her that day with an interesting look, one difficult to decode in its own right. Longing, perhaps loathing? Maybe Soyeon was looking too deeply into it. She was just worried, and that was fair. Right?
“I know we didn’t say anything on the walk over here, so I just wanted to check in.” Yuqi took Soyeon’s hands, cold from the autumn air. “Are you okay? I know I didn’t tell you anything about what happened with the auditions and all, so I wanted to make sure you weren’t mad.”
Soyeon frowned before speaking. “No? Why would I? Your life is your life, and I don’t deserve to control that.”
Yuqi pondered on this, before nodding and continuing. “They told me a lot of things there, you know?”
Soyeon tugged on Yuqi’s cheeks, smiling. “You’re so cute. But no, continue. I’m curious.”
“They said they’d give me a month to sign the contract. But if I did, I’d…” Yuqi trails off, deep in thought. “Don’t worry about it, actually, it doesn’t matter too much in the grand scheme of things.
Soyeon ruffles her hair playfully, tilting her head to rest on Yuqi’s shoulder. “No, no.” she tuts. “You have to tell me, right? That’s what you said, that people who love each other are honest with each other. And you love me, so you have to be honest.”
Yuqi tilts her head down, deadpan. “I don’t love you.” She says it almost genuinely, and it throws Soyeon for a loop. She’s left stuttering and sputtering in Yuqi’s wake.
“Of course I do! But I don’t know if you want to hear it–” She raises her hand to pinch Soyeon’s lips together. “I know you’re going to be annoying–” Soyeon tries to take Yuqi’s hands off, only before she continues speaking. “Beautifully! Beautifully annoying. So I’ll just say it. They’re going to make me move to Alberta for training.”
Soyeon’s confused, so Yuqi takes the time to explain. “It’s a province in Canada. They’ll make me move from Korea to Canada, expenses paid and all. Don’t worry, I’m not going.”
“Why not? What’s stopping you?” Soyeon’s still confused, even more so now.
Yuqi smiles, taking her index finger and tapping it on Soyeon’s heart. “You. You can’t come with me to Canada, can you?”
Soyeon’s surprised face makes Yuqi laugh. “You have to finish up here for two more years.”
“I guess I do.” Soyeon sighs. “But we can break up or something, it’s no big deal.”
Yuqi’s startled by that, shoving Soyeon off her and staring her dead in the eyes. “You don’t get to say that. Never.”
Soyeon wants to speak, but Yuqi looks mad, so she stays quiet. The tips of her ears turn red as she balls her hands into fists. “You just said I have the right to do whatever I want with my life. I want you in it. That’s for me to decide, and I decided it.”
Soyeon nods. “I understand, I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”
Yuqi takes a moment to collect herself. “No, it’s fine. I just thought you should know. Let’s forget about it and start the park trip like normal, right?”
“Like what?” Soyeon asks, before Yuqi reaches her cold hand out to tag her.
“You’re it!” And their little game starts, again.
Miyeon looks at her like she’s crazy. Maybe Soyeon is.
“Walk with me. You want me to put my relationship with Minnie in jeopardy in a convoluted plot that involves a setup that makes it look like you cheated on Yuqi with me in order to make her break up with you and follow her dreams?”
Soyeon nods. “Yeah.” Miyeon takes a hand and bashes her in the head.
“Are you an idiot? Maybe you are, because no way in hell am I agreeing to your evil, heinous plot. Who do you think you—”
“I’ll buy you all the life-size plushies Minnie doesn’t want to get for you. And an ice-cream budget for the rest of the year.”
Miyeon counts the months on her fingers, doing some sort of weird calculation that Soyeon doesn’t entirely understand, before she nods.
“I’m in. But if Minnie finds out about this before I tell her, you’re the one explaining why."
They both shudder at the thought. "Deal."