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Alright, Yoonchae's eyes are absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent not blue.
Megan is staring at them right now—which, okay, she's been doing a lot lately according to Sophia's increasingly pointed looks—and yeah. Confirmed. Dark brown. Nearly black, actually, especially under the practice room's fluorescent lights.
So why can't she stop thinking about that stupid Billie Eilish song?
"Megan-unnie, are you okay?" Yoonchae tilts her head, and Megan realizes she's been standing in the middle of their choreography formation, frozen like her brain just blue-screened. Which is ironic, considering.
"Yeah! Yeah, I'm good." She's not good. She's having a crisis because she's been mentally singing "I've been watching you for some time, can't stop staring at those—" and then her brain helpfully supplies BROWN EYES because that's what they ARE, Megan, get it together.
Daniela smirks from her spot by the mirror. "You sure? You've been standing there for like thirty seconds."
"I was just... thinking about the next move."
"Uh-huh." Manon isn't even trying to hide her grin. "The next move. Sure."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Three Hours Earlier…
The problem started this morning. Actually, no—the problem started way before that, but this morning is when Megan became aware of the problem.
They were at breakfast. Normal breakfast, yes. Lara was fighting with the toaster (losing, as usual), Sophia was on her third cup of coffee, and Megan was scrolling through her phone, half-awake and trying to figure out what to post on Instagram.
Then Yoonchae shuffled in, hair a mess, wearing one of Megan's oversized hoodies that she definitely stole from her room.
"Morning," she mumbled in English, also half-asleep, and made a beeline for the cereal.
Megan made the mistake of looking up.
The morning light through the kitchen window hit Yoonchae at this angle, and—
No.
Megan is NOT doing this. She is not becoming one of those people who gets poetic about sunlight and eyelashes and—oh god, are those eyelashes always so pretty? That's ridiculous. That's not fair. Nobody needs lashes that pretty. And Yoonchae’s eyelashes aren’t even that long!
"Unnie, you're staring again," Yoonchae said, not even looking at her, drowning her Frosted Flakes in an ungodly amount of milk. But she’s careful with it, because apparently she doesn’t like her cereal soggy. How odd, Yoonchae. How very odd.
"I'm not staring. I'm observing."
"Ah." She still wasn't looking at Megan. "Yes, very different."
Sophia choked on her coffee. Lara didn't even pretend not to be eavesdropping anymore. The toaster chose that moment to finally pop, and they all jumped.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"From the top!" their choreographer calls out, and Megan snaps back to attention.
Focus, Megan. You're a professional. You've performed in front of thousands. You can handle one (1) seventeen-year-old Korean girl with eyes like—
"—ocean eyes, burning cities and napalm skies—"
BROWN. Brown eyes. Warm, deep, probably-very-nice brown eyes that she's NOT thinking about right now because she's DANCING.
She hits the next move half a beat late.
"Megan!"
"Sorry! Sorry, I—"
Yoonchae catches her eye in the mirror. The corner of her mouth twitches. She knows. Oh my god, she knows, and she thinks it's funny.
In Megan's defense, she wasn't always like this. There was a time—let's call it "The Great MeiChae Beef Era of 2024"—when she would've rather eaten her own dance shoes than acknowledge Yoonchae's existence, let alone her stupid perfect eyes.
She was stressed. She was eighteen. She was, as Yoonchae so eloquently put it, "acting like a bitch."
(Yoonchae's picked up some interesting English vocabulary since debut. Even before that actually. Megan's... partially responsible for that. Maybe.)
But that was before. Before they actually talked. Before Megan realized she's hilarious and weird and does this thing where she narrates her life like a nature documentary when she's tired. Before she noticed—
Stop. STOP.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Unnie, why are you looking at me like that?"
They were in the dorm living room, just the two of them. The others had gone for bubble tea, but Yoonchae said she was too tired and would rather sleep, and Megan said she had to organize her closet, which was true but also she maybe wanted to not be in a crowded boba shop for five seconds.
"Like what?" Megan didn't look up from folding a hoodie for the third time. Definitely wasn't trying to avoid eye contact. Definitely not.
"Like..." Yoonchae paused, and Megan could hear her thinking in Korean, trying to find the English words. "Like I am... interesting? Like I am... museum painting?"
Megan did look up then, and immediately regretted it because the evening light through the window was doing that thing again, and—
"You're just... you have an interesting face. Good proportions. Whatever." Smooth, Megan. Really smooth.
Yoonchae blinked those absolutely-not-ocean-colored eyes at her. "Oh."
A pause.
"You think so?"
"Yeah."
"Oh."
Another pause.
"That's... nice. Thank you, unnie."
Yoonchae smiled—this soft, genuine smile that made Megan's chest feel weird—and went back to her phone. And Megan went back to her hoodie, pretending her hands weren't shaking a little.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Water break!" the choreographer finally calls, and Megan's never been more grateful.
She practically sprints to her water bottle, unscrewing the cap like it contains the secrets of the universe and not just regular filtered water.
Yoonchae plops down next to her. Because of course she does.
"You're being weird today," she observes in Korean, because she's still more comfortable in Korean when she's being direct.
"Don’t talk to me, you’re weird! I’m not!" Megan responds, in the tone of Gnarly. That gets a snicker out of Yoonchae.
"I'm always weird. You're usually normal-weird. Today you're weird-weird."
"That's not a thing."
"It is a thing. Daniela-unnie said so."
"Daniela-unnie needs to mind her business."
Yoonchae laughs, and it's that bright, unselfconscious laugh that she does when she forgets to be the youngest or the one who had to work twice as hard to communicate. Just Yoonchae, laughing. Maximum of three HA’s.
Megan's chest does the weird thing again.
"You know," Yoonchae says, switching back to English, slower and more careful, "it's okay if you look at me."
Megan nearly drops her water bottle. "What?"
"We are friends now, yes? Friends look at friends. It's normal." She shrugs, but there's something in her expression Megan can't quite read. "Better than before, when you were angry for no reason."
Ah. There it is. The guilt that still sits somewhere in Megan's ribs, even though they've talked about it, even though Yoonchae says she understands, even though they're okay now.
"I'm sorry," Megan says, not for the first time. "About before. About being—"
"I know." Yoonchae cuts her off, gentle but firm. "I know, unnie. Is okay. Is done." She bumps her shoulder against Megan's. "Now you just stare instead of…” She gives a mock scowl and a side-eye. “Is better."
"I don't—"
"You do."
"Okay, maybe I do, but—"
"Is cute."
Megan's going to die. She's going to expire right here on this practice room floor and they're going to have to find a new all-rounder and her gravestone will read "Here lies Megan Skiendiel, killed by a seventeen-year-old saying 'is cute' in broken English."
"Is okay," Yoonchae continues, completely oblivious to Megan's internal meltdown. "Sophia-unnie says everyone has a phase where they stare at other members. She says is normal for groups who live together. She had a phase with Manon-unnie."
"Sophia said what now?"
"She says is because we see each other a lot and everyone is pretty and sometimes brain gets confused about friend-pretty and like-like-pretty." She's very matter-of-fact about this, okay. "She says will go away, or maybe won't, and both is okay."
Megan's experiencing what can only be described as a full system crash.
"Yoonchae—"
"Break's over! Let's go!" The choreographer claps their hands.
Yoonchae springs up, offering Megan her hand. Megan takes it, and Yoonchae pulls her to her feet with surprising strength for someone who looks like a strong breeze could knock her over.
"Come on, unnie. Try not to stare this time, okay?" She's grinning now, fully teasing. "Is distracting for me too."
Then she just... walks away. To her position. Leaving Megan standing there, hand still tingling from where Yoonchae grabbed it, brain spinning like a broken computer.
Daniela appears at Megan's elbow. "You good?"
"No."
"Yeah, that's fair."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Megan's lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, when Lara pokes her head in. They've been roommates long enough that she doesn't bother knocking anymore.
"So," she says, settling at the foot of Megan's bed uninvited. "Yoonchae, huh?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"That's fine. I'll talk, you listen." She's using her very soothing voice now. "You know it's normal, right?"
"That's what she said. Well, that's what she said that Sophia said."
"Sophia's right. We're six girls in our late teens and early twenties, living together, performing together, basically spending every waking moment together. Add in the pressure and the emotions and the fact that we're all hot—"
"Lara."
"—and it's statistically impossible for nobody to catch feelings for anybody."
"I haven't caught—"
She gives Megan a look.
"...Okay, maybe I've caught something. Like a cold. A Yoonchae cold."
"That's disgusting. You're disgusting. Also, you've been taking random photos of her for weeks."
Megan sits up so fast she nearly headbutts Lara. "How did you—"
"Your camera roll is literally just stage photos and then like fifty candids of Yoonchae. I saw it when you were showing me that outfit pic last week." She softens. "They're really good photos, by the way. Very... artistic."
Megan flops back down. "Ugh, shut the fuck up!"
"Why? Because you like her?"
"Because I was such a bitch to her! For months! And now I'm like—" Megan waves her hands helplessly. "Like this! What am I supposed to do with that?"
"Well, first, you already apologized. Multiple times. She's forgiven you. Multiple times. Maybe forgive yourself?" Lara's voice is gentle. "Second, you're allowed to feel things. Even complicated things. Even things that don't make sense."
"But she's—she's the youngest. And—"
"And she's the one who brought it up this afternoon, according to Daniela's play-by-play text updates."
"Oh my god, was Daniela narrating this to everyone?"
"Group chat was very active. Sophia sent popcorn emojis. Manon sent the eyes emoji like fifteen times."
Megan groans into her pillow.
"Look," Lara continues, "I'm not saying you have to do anything about it. Maybe it is just a phase. Maybe you just think she's pretty and it doesn't mean anything. Maybe—"
"It's not just that she's pretty," Megan mumbles into the pillow.
"What?"
She turns her head. "It's not just that she's pretty. She's—she's funny. Like, really funny, when she's comfortable enough to joke around. And she works so hard but never complains. And she does this thing where she bleps out her tongue when she’s concentrating or struggling to read something. And when she's tired, she mixes up her languages and says things like 'please the passing of the kimchi' and everyone thinks it's cute but I think it's—" She stops herself.
Lara's smiling. "You think it's what?"
"...Cute," Megan admits, defeated.
"So you like her."
"I don't know! Maybe? Is this what liking someone feels like? Because it's terrible. I hate it."
"Yeah, that sounds about right." Lara pats her leg. "You know what I think? I don't think she'd mind."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. Just... she stares at you too, you know. You're just too busy staring at her to notice."
Before Megan can process that, Lara's up and heading for the door. "Also, Sophia wants to know if you're okay with her telling Yoonchae that you keep looping 'Ocean Eyes.' by Billie Eilish. Everyone can see your Spotify history, girl! She thinks it's hilarious given the whole—" she gestures vaguely at Megan's face, "—brown eyes situation."
"LARA, NO—"
But she's already gone, cackling down the hallway.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Megan's phone buzzes during breakfast.
Yoonchae 👁️
unnie
sophia unnie told me about the song
ocean eyes yes???
[photo of her making a silly face, pointing at her very brown eyes]
see? brown. like coffee. or chocolate
maybe you need new song
brown eyes
less romantic but more accurate 😊
Megan's going to kill Sophia. But also, she's smiling at her phone like an idiot.
your eyes are nice
the color doesn't matter
brown is good
great
im going to stop texting now before I say something weird
too late unnie
already weird
but is okay
i like your weird 💕
Across the table, Yoonchae is looking at her phone, hiding a smile behind her hand.
Their eyes meet.
She winks.
Megan looks away so fast she nearly gives herself whiplash, face burning. UGH!!!!!!
"Smooth," Daniela mutters next to her.
"Shut up."
But Megan's smiling.
And yeah, okay. Maybe she likes her. Maybe she's been falling for her soft and stupid and inevitable, like a song she can't get out of her head. Maybe Yoonchae's eyes aren't ocean blue, but they're deep and warm and when she looks at Megan like she's looking at her now, she feels like she's drowning anyway.
"I've been watching you for some time..."
Yes, Yoonchae's eyes are absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent not blue.
But somehow, that doesn't matter at all.