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Minji was nineteen and a half when she almost toppled over Hanni's two tier mirror glaze chocolate cake. It happened during one of their first classes and Minji watched the bowls and whisks clatter to the floor in horror as Hanni caught her by the arm.
“Hell! Watch your way!” Hanni spat out, her apron stained with flour and chocolate, but all Minji could think about were her eyebrows, and how they were furrowed, and how it sort of made her heart skip a beat.
But that thought disappeared the next moment, just when Minji realized that the burnt smell was coming from the cheesecake she had forgotten in the oven.
Now, Minji is twenty and staring at the score board for their latest exam. There, just below Hanni's name, stood her own name in all caps and bold.
She blinks twice. The name is still there. She pinches herself. Nope, still there.
“Shit,” is the first thing that escapes her mouth and suddenly she is painfully aware of the whispers around her. “Who the hell is Kim Minji?” Hi, that's me. “I’ve never seen someone come so close to Hanni's score.” Well, it's a first for me too. “She must have cheated.” If there is a way to cheat making macarons, Minji would have done it a long time ago.
Beside her, Haerin gives her a few encouraging pats on the back. Minji can barely even feel them. Her body is numb. “Shit,” she breathes out again. She wishes she could melt away like a puddle of butter, or anything that would make people stop gawking at her like an animal in the zoo. But then, she feels the familiar weight of someone's glance fall on her.
“Congratulations.”
Hanni's voice floats into her ear but never quite lands. There is still some strawberry jam clinging to the cuff of her sleeves and she is looking at Minji with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Minji watches her extend her right hand, which makes her almost trip over Haerin’s leg.
“Um, yeah, um, thanks,” Minji stutters, wiping her hands dry on her pants before shaking Hanni’s hand. They are warm and calloused and Minji can almost feel the hours that same pair of hands spend holding the knife and clutching the whisk. And all of a sudden, she is overwhelmed with this strange sense of guilt that refuses to leave her even when she watches Hanni disappear into the crowd.
So, she stress-bakes three whole batches of chocolate chip cookies at 3AM.
(It was either that or doom-scrolling on TikTok until her eyes shut themselves.)
And now, staring at the fourth batch in the oven, Minji realizes what a mistake she has made.
Firstly, Minji definitely has this very important exam coming up tomorrow and if she fucks up her theory class again, she can totally forget about passing this semester.
Secondly, she absolutely has no idea what to do with fifty chocolate chip cookies and with food gifts being banned from the whole dorm building after last year's food poisoning incident, she has no way to get rid of them.
Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, she's got Pham Hanni standing at her door now. And she is pretty sure that's not good news.
“Um,” Minji scratches the back of her neck, grinning awkwardly at Hanni and trying to shield the dirty kitchen counter from her view. “Hey, hi?”
“It’s three in the morning.” Hanni crosses her arms, clearly unimpressed. “Is there a reason why you have a whole construction site behind you?”
“I…” Minji swallows. Hanni raises an eyebrow, urging her on. “I made chocolate chip cookies. Fifty or so. You want some?” she blurts out.
Hanni cocks her head, almost amused. “You are aware that giving out food is against the rules.”
“Um, yeah. Sort of.” Minji doesn't even know what she is saying anymore. She hopes her cookies aren't burning in the oven.
“Well, nobody has to know,” Hanni says before squeezing past Minji. And then, all of the sudden, Hanni is standing in the middle of her kitchen and staring at the undone dishes in the sink and frowning at them like they just stepped on her toe.
“Are you trying to raise an alien colony?” she asks, pointing at the Alfredo-stained plate that's still there from lunch.
“I’m really clean, usually,” Minji mutters, frantically pulling out the tray from the oven and placing it next to the other ones on the kitchen table. When she turns around, Hanni is still staring at the sink.
“Milk?” she offers before remembering that she just ran out of milk. “Um, or maybe tea? I have this really nice tea a friend got from London.”
“Sure.” Hanni finally looks up and Minji tries not to fixate on the way the hair falls into Hanni's face, or the way her lips curl into something that resembles a smile. It's three in the morning—a bad time to start anything.
For now, she just tries to dig out the Earl Grey somewhere from the depths of her cupboard. Hanni is already chewing on her second cookie, expression unchanged as she starts eyeing the rest of the batch.
“A bit dry,” she finally says after licking the chocolate from her thumb. Minji finds it oddly endearing.
Here is the thing about Pham Hanni: Minji is absolutely certain that Hanni can't stand her, and this for multiple good reasons.
Last year's Christmas party, Minji dumped a whole glass of champagne on Hanni's expensive dress. She swears it was an accident; she was just trying to show Hyein some dance moves and Hanni just so happened to be there. Hanni was clearly less amused by this situation. She only glared at Minji and gritted, “Could you be a little more mindful about your surroundings?”
Then, last month, Hanni was loading her laundry into the dryer before Minji walked in and proceeded to flood everything. She swears she didn't see that sign on the door about the broken washing machine—it had been her third day surviving off instant coffee and sheer willpower.
“Isn’t it funny how I always get myself into shit when you are around? ” Hanni huffed as she dragged the mop across the floor, her crocs squeaking with every step. Minji couldn't come up with anything smart or sensible, so she just wordlessly mopped the floor until it was shiny like a mirror. The janitor ended up being quite impressed by their work.
And now, it's almost four in the morning and Minji is standing by the sink, drying off the bowl that Hanni hands her. She considers apologizing. For what, she hasn't quite decided yet. Probably starting from “sorry for existing” and slowly working her way to “sorry for almost kicking you out of the Top 10 and making you do my dishes.”
“I’m not such a disaster... usually,” is what comes out of her mouth. It makes her feel incredibly stupid, and even stupider when Hanni responds with, “If you say so.” And Minji swears, she isn't lying. Ask her high school classmates and they will all tell you she is trustworthy and reliable. (That definitely doesn't mean she peaked in high school—like Haerin often implied.)
Yet if you ask Hanni, the only description you would probably get is a simple “She is a total loser.”
But why should it matter? It's not like she really cares about Hanni that much anyway.
Okay, maybe she does. Maybe she does a bit too much. Because why else would she be in the empty kitchen on her third attempt at making the perfect tempered chocolate.
“So, you have a crush on her?” Hyein comments unenthusiastically as she watches Minji carefully mix together the melted chocolate. Above them, the fluorescent lights buzz coldly. Minji feels her arms growing tired.
“You should put down those WebToon novels and read a cookbook or something,” she says, brows furrowed in concentration.
“And you,” Hyein steals a spoonful of melted chocolate from the bowl, licking it clean before pointing at Minji, “should start to face your fears instead of running from them.”
But it's not until much later—when Minji is literally staring at Hanni's yearbook picture she unearthed somewhere from the depths of the internet—that she really starts thinking about it.
Today in the laundry room, Minji found Hanni slumped over the chair, asleep with her mouth half open. Minji spent three minutes staring at her, hand itching to move the hair from her lips, before Hanni startled awake from the dryer’s beeping sound.
Ridiculous, Minji thinks to herself, before closing all the ten tabs on her browser. (Including the news article about Hanni winning a baking youth championship and the video of her singing “Unwritten” at Bible camp.)
Here is the other thing about Pham Hanni: she seems to get along with everyone that's not Minji.
On Monday, Minji catches her hanging out with Hyein. She finds them sitting inside a coffee shop and laughing among themselves and Minji suddenly really feels the bitterness of her Iced Americano.
On Thursday, Minji sees her eating lunch with Danielle. But that's nothing new. They are practically attached by the hip.
What really knocks her out is when she sees Hanni lean over and help Haerin with her white chocolate ganache during class today. And Minji refuses to admit that's the reason she almost overwhisks her egg whites.
“I mean, have you ever tried to have a normal conversation with her?” Hyein asks her after class. Minji doesn't respond to that question because she is pretty sure that that's impossible. Hell, with her luck, her microwave might explode out of nowhere if she tries to exchange more than three words with Hanni.
“Tomorrow during class,” Hyein announces like an ultimatum, “you are going to ask her out.”
“Why should I—”
Hyein rests her hands solemnly on Minji's shoulders. “Because I don't want you to end up dying in a nursing home without ever having felt the warmth of love.”
This is absurd. Absolutely ridiculous, Minji thinks during the croissant class as she tries to infer the instructions through the chef's thick French accent. She glances up from her dough and sees Hanni looking back at her.
They are standing next to each other and Minji can almost feel the warmth radiating off her body. The chef is saying something about temperature and ovens, Minji is only half listening now because Hanni is still staring at her.
“You have flour on your face,” Hanni whispers before pointing at her own nose.
“Um, you too,” Minji whispers back and before her brain registers anything, she is already wiping her sleeve over Hanni's face.
It takes her three seconds to realize the gravity of the situation. For one, she basically just threw a whole bag of flour into Hanni's face because she didn't realize that her sleeves are just as dirty as her hands, and also, she is touching Hanni's face, which in itself is already mortifying enough.
“Thanks for the flour-based foundation,” Minji hears Hanni grumble before she can pull her hand back, almost knocking the butter over in the process.
She spends the rest of the class trying to ignore the thoughts whirring around in her head. Hanni, on the other hand, works on her own croissants with undivided attention, her lips pouting in concentration.
It reminds Minji of their first year—after the cake incident, she couldn't look Hanni in the eyes for three weeks straight. But that strangely made Minji even more aware of her. The small frustrated sound she lets out when something doesn't work, the hunch of her back when she gets exhausted or the smile that breaks through when she finally gets everything right—Minji somehow always notices them.
Even now, when Minji stands by the kitchen door and sees Hanni standing alone under the fluorescent lights, she feels a strange pinch in her chest.
“Bye,” she mumbles, but as always, Hanni is too busy to notice her.
That afternoon, Minji ends up stress-baking forty mini cupcakes, her head filled with Hanni—brows furrowed and eyes fixed, like whatever lies on the counter is the only thing that matters in the world.
And maybe she will never be so certain about anything in her life. Never like Hanni, at least.
🍰
Hanni was eighteen when her mother sat her down for a serious conversation in front of the mini whiteboard hanging on their fridge door. On it, scribbled down in neat handwriting, the two simple rules of thumb for dating.
- Don't date someone who doesn't like the Backstreet Boys.
- Don't date someone who doesn't take anything seriously.
Hanni is nineteen when Minji trips into her life and almost plants her face into the cake Hanni worked on for three hours. And then she had the audacity to grin at her, as if this was just some sort of joke.
However, Hanni can't say she paid Minji much attention after that apart from fleeting glances on the hallway and occasional name-drops during gossip sessions. Did you hear? Kim managed to make a whole bag of flour explode. You know Kim? That girl almost burned the entire kitchen down with her Christmas pudding.
Those stories didn't surprise her much, she has had first hand experience of Minji's clumsiness, which is why it's rather fascinating to her that she somehow still has all her ten fingers.
But that's the thing about Kim Minji: she succeeds without trying. She spends most of the class in time giggling with Hyein and trying not to trip over her own foot but somehow her Focaccia comes out better than Hanni's. She passes all the theory classes even if she spends the Tuesday before an exam stress-baking cookies instead of studying. Hanni knows—she wants to believe that Minji could blow everyone out of the water if she just so much as tries a little harder, but instead, it's whatever this is.
Then, somehow, Minji almost makes it into the Top 10, seemingly purely by accident. Hanni stares at the scoreboard for a long moment, a weird mix of feelings brewing in her chest. She glances over and sees Minji, who looks like she is about to piss her pants. Shouldn’t she be laughing? Hanni doesn’t understand it. She also doesn’t understand that pitiful gaze Minji gives her. What she does understand is that Minji can absolutely surpass her if she doesn’t try harder.
Which is why it makes no sense that she knocks on Minji's door at three in the morning when she should have sent in a noise complaint. Or that she is currently standing in the kitchen and eyeing Minji's blowtorch technique with a concerned frown. She thinks it has something to do with Minji’s eyes, and how they keep looking at her like a sopping wet dog in the rain. Hanni has a kind heart—she has been donating to the animal shelter since she was sixteen.
“You’ve held a blowtorch before, have you?”
Minji looks up with a sheepish grin. “Uh, yeah, in a chemistry lab back in high school. Almost gave myself a buzzcut.”
Hanni sighs, taking the blowtorch from Minji's hand and demonstrates it herself. She does find Minji's intense gaze a bit irritating, but says nothing. “Tell me again, how did you make it this far?”
“Um, luck maybe?”
Hanni raises an eyebrow. “Luck wins you 10 million at a casino. It doesn't get you through culinary school.”
“But I do think making sourdough bread requires some luck,” Minji says, gesturing vaguely with her hands. Hanni wonders if she has always been so restless. “Like I tried to make one yesterday and the insides came out like slime.”
“Maybe you just didn't get the temperature and time right?” Hanni puts the blowtorch aside and admires her work. Perfectly caramelized. She hands Minji a spoon to try.
“It's… salty…” Minji says after taking a bite. “I think I put salt into the custard.”
Hanni doesn't know how many sighs she has already sighed today. She thinks she is starting to run out of them. The day is only half over; they haven't even started making the Éclairs yet.
“That girl totally has a crush on you.”
“I think she is just a bit lost,” Hanni says without looking up from the puppy video on her screen. They are currently sitting on Hanni's bed and Danielle is getting cracker crumbs all over it. (She is lucky that Hanni loves her too much to give her a restraining order that prohibits her from stepping into her room.)
“Lost?” Danielle laughs. “Girl, she is whipped.”
“Speaking of whipped, did you remember to put the whipped cream back into the fridge?”
“Do your puns ever get better?” Danielle sighs. “And for someone obsessed with romcoms, you are certainly very unenthusiastic about real life romantic prospects.”
Hanni shrugs. “Some things are just better as a concept.”
Danielle sighs again, even louder this time. “If you continue like this you're going to end up marrying your Madeleines and Éclairs.”
“My Madeleines and Éclairs might act up sometimes but I still love them very much,” Hanni says with a small grin. In that moment, her phone buzzes with a notification. It's a message from an unknown number.
Unknown
hey, minji here, sorry for the disturbance
I was just wondering if you had time sometime this week
I still need some help with the creme brulee
but only if you have time of course
and I'll pay in pizza or something
anything honestly
“Who is it?” Danielle asks and gets a suspiciously quick answer.
“Oh, just someone.”
“Someone?” Danielle's eyes narrow. “Suspicious.” But Hanni just ignores her as she types up the reply.
I want a whole pizza to myself
girl who trips on air
yeah, of course
whole pizza
Honestly, can you blame her? It sounds like a good deal and she has done way more for way less (e.g. prepare a whole 30 slide presentation by herself for free because her partner couldn't figure out how to change the font size). So, this isn't specifically about Minji, and doesn't reveal anything about Hanni, except that she really doesn't have money for groceries anymore.
Well, maybe Hanni should have considered the fact that Minji is absolutely capable of setting a whole kitchen on fire with a blowtorch.
“Sorry, sorry!” Minji panickedly flails around with her arms when she burns the sugar again and Hanni can't decide if she is more amused or annoyed.
At least the pizza makes up for it. Hanni is now sitting on Minji's couch as the laptop screen flashes with scenes from the newest season of the Great British Bakeoff. Beside her, Minji's eyes are fixed on the screen, her slice of pepperoni and cheese dripping oil onto the paper plate as she takes a distracted bite. Hanni considers telling her that the oil is about to soak through the paper and get onto her pants, but instead, she just lets out a small amused huff of air as someone faints on screen, making Minji let out a mortified gasp.
“Don't worry, he survives,” Hanni says, biting back a laugh.
“No spoilers!” Minji puts up a warning finger and Hanni tries her best to fight the urge to scrub Minji's face clean with a kitchen towel.
And suddenly she is laughing along with Minji, their shoulders brushing when Minji almost suffocates on a piece of cheese. Hanni can’t quite remember the last time she felt this easy around someone. Ever since she started culinary school, her days had been an endless battle of making the best cake in class.
“You know, my mother fell in love with baking after watching the British Bakeoff,” Minji says, nibbling on her third slice of pizza. “She didn’t really speak a word of English back then but since I could remember, we always had that playing on the TV.” A faint smile appears on her face and Hanni feels a strange tenderness in her heart. “I guess that’s why baking always felt easier than all the other things.”
Hanni’s grip on the pizza crust tightens. She wishes she could understand that fondness in Minji’s voice. Maybe there was a time when she did—before everything turned into numbers and rankings that determined her future.
🍰
“So, how did it go?”
Minji sighs, slumping her face against the wobbly table in the break room. Haerin is currently having lunch while revising some notes—though Minji thinks calling that food might be a bit generous.
“I assume that means bad,” Haerin comments unhelpfully.
“Horrible,” Minji corrects. And it's all (mostly) Hyein's fault because if she didn't give her Hanni's phone number and dared her to text it after two energy drinks and too much adrenaline, Hanni would have never witnessed Minji standing helplessly in the room like a giant toddler with a big oil stain on her pants. That's just something you don't recover from.
“Details,” Haerin pushes with a gleeful smile she doesn't even bother hiding. For a moment, Minji considers attacking her with the potato-pea-mush sitting in her bowl.
“Ever heard of something called compassion?”
“I practice it occasionally.”
“And by occasionally you mean once in a blue moon?”
Haerin shrugs, piling the mysterious substance in her bowl into a tower, before carefully forming a snowman out of it. “I thought that trauma dumping might be helpful.”
“Definitely not to you,” Minji grits. “You are going to sell my secrets to some shady gossip dealer.”
“Well, I did make a bet with Hyein.” Haerin picks out the frozen peas from the vegetables and gives her monstrosity two eyes. “She thinks you are going to confess by the end of this week. I think you are going to give up at the end of this month.”
Which is how Minji finds herself back in her room, half of her clothes dumped onto her bed. Hyein is currently glancing between a white tank top and a blue button-up, while Haerin insists that a simple flannel should do the job.
“Listen, you have to walk past the kitchen on the third floor right next to the coffee machine at 6:30 PM,” Hyein recites her plan to Minji.
“So I have to become a stalker because you don't want to lose a stupid bet?”
“Look, at least you are not the one stalking their crush over Snapchat Bitmojis,” Hyein reasons. Beside her, Haerin turns three shades paler. That's interesting. But before Minji can investigate, Hyein is already chugging a pair of ripped jeans in her direction.
And now, Minji is standing by the kitchen door, the sleeves of her flannel just high enough to reveal the outlines of her biceps. She feels absolutely pathetic and Hanni's confused expression doesn't make it any better.
“Is this a set up for some country thirst trap TikTok?” she asks, eyeing Minji up and down.
“Um, I…” Minji scrambles for words. “Just passing by…”
“Aha.” Hanni doesn't seem convinced. “So, do you plan on passing by sometime soon? I really need to check on my cream puffs in the fridge.”
“Oh, um, sorry.” Minji scoots out of the way and almost bumps her head against the door frame. This is a horrible idea—she doesn't know why she even agreed to it in the first place. And now Hanni is going to think she is a loser and an exhibitionist. Great, lovely.
“Hey, biceps.” Hanni sticks her head out from behind the fridge door. “Since you are already flexing your arms like that, mind lending me a hand?”
“I wasn't—”
“Yeah, yeah, no need to be ashamed,” Hanni laughs. “I would be proud too if I was built like that.” She shuts the fridge and motions for Minji to help her carry the tray out.
“Um,” Minji's brain goes haywire. Built like that. So, does Hanni– “So you think my arms are nice?”
Hanni looks up. Blinks. For a moment, Minji forgets to breathe.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Hanni finally says, humorless. “I’m talking from a purely technical standpoint.”
“Thanks,” Minji chuckles out of self-defense. How stupid could she be, thinking that Hanni had a thing for her. She might as well bet on flying pigs.
🍰
Today during lunch, Hanni stares at the Hawaiian rolls on Danielle's tray and somehow, starts thinking about Minji's biceps again.
“Hey, by the way, I found your Bible in the cardboard box under your bed,” Danielle says after taking a sip from her mudwater coffee.
Hanni blinks up. “What?”
“The Bible,” Danielle repeats. “You were frantically looking for it yesterday, remember?”
“I was?”
“Yeah, totally.” Danielle grimaces at the taste of the greasy hash browns. “I thought you might have seen a ghost in the hallway or something.”
“I did. Sort of.” Hanni decides this is easier than explaining the sudden urge to sink her teeth into the Hawaiian rolls.
She is still thinking about Minji in that stupid flannel when she watches her roll out the dough for the Pain Au Chocolate during class today.
She tries to focus on the butter, but instead remembers that stupid BuzzFeed quiz Danielle made her take three months ago. The result: You are 100% sexually repressed! in an obnoxious rainbow font. Below it, a leaderboard. Hanni topped it with the highest score ever reached.
“Sorry,” Minji mutters when she accidentally brushes Hanni's arm when reaching for the knife. Then her focus is back on separating her dough into pieces, and suddenly, Hanni is painfully aware of the subtle flexes of Minji's muscles under the sleeves.
This is an attempt to sabotage her grades, Hanni concludes. And she is not going to let it happen.
“So how many dollar store cakes are you going to decorate until you realize that you desperately need to feel the warmth of another human body?”
Hanni forms a rose with the fondant without replying to Danielle's question. Her eyes feel dry. She hasn't had a good sleep since Monday. Her internship starts in two days. She is perfectly fine and happy. (Even if she almost fucks up during class today because Minji just wouldn’t stop staring at her. Hanni doesn’t get what her problem is. Or maybe Hanni is the one with a problem.)
That was until she walked into the locker room on the first day and realized that she would have to endure that two month long summer internship with Minji.
“What are you doing here?” Hanni asks, sounding more accusatory than she intends to.
“Um, I don't know… I mean, I sent off the application form on the last day and I thought they weren't going to take me but—”
“Oh, so this is just another joke to you?” Hanni scoffs before she can stop herself. She really shouldn't have said that. It isn't Minji's fault that she could barely focus during her French pastry class. It isn't Minji's fault that she just somehow gets the internship Hanni has been fighting tooth and nail for. It's just simply how Minji is—everything that Hanni isn't.
“Hey, are you guys ready?” Hanni hears Danielle’s voice through the door. She glances at Minji, who looks like a puppy being reprimanded by their owner and lets out a sigh. “Sorry,” she mumbles before brushing past her. She wishes she knew how she could stop being an asshole to Minji.
🍰
Minji feels horrible. Maybe even more horrible than that one time when she got food poisoning from cheap gas station sushi.
“Kim, attention please!” The chef snaps his fingers in front of her eyes and Minji startles awake. She has been hugging this empty bowl for about a minute already while the motion around her grows more and more frantic. Apparently some really famous food reviewer is sitting in the restaurant right now, making the whole team feel a bit uneasy.
“He gave that newly opened place on the main street a one star rating last month and they closed just two months later,” she hears someone whisper and finally the panic starts to settle in.
Kim! Kim! Kim! Minji spends the next two hours dashing through the kitchen like a headless fly. She takes the bread out of the fridge, puts it back in because it's the wrong one. She pipes the wrong frosting onto the cake slices, which Danielle thankfully fixes for her. She almost gets an entire pot of caramel poured on her, but luckily gets away with just a big blob on her apron. When she walks over to the sink to wash it off, she hears someone let out a pained hiss.
Minji turns around and sees Hanni staring at a cut on her finger, blood oozing out like egg yolk dripping from a sunny side up. But instead of doing anything about it, she just wraps it in a paper towel before she starts chopping the chocolate again.
”You're—”
“I know,” Hanni interrupts her, the blood slowly soaking through the paper towel. “Did you check on the meringue pie already? And also—”
Minji reaches into her pocket before Hanni has the chance to say anything else. She pulls out a crumpled band-aid and wraps it around Hanni's finger. It's that Spongebob themed one someone gifted her as a joke last Christmas.
“Sorry, I know it's silly,” she apologizes, staring at Spongebob's distorted face.
Hanni glances up, something unreadable flashing across her big brown eyes. Somewhere in the distance, someone is calling Minji's name again.
She survives the day somehow. Just as Minji dares to let out a relieved sigh, she hears the chef ask: “Who made the Swiss rolls today?”
Minji hesitantly raises her hand. “Um, I did.”
The chef glances in her direction. Minji swallows. “Is… something wrong?”
A small smile breaks through his cold exterior. “No, quite the opposite.” He flips his phone around. Minji squints her eyes and reads.
Ever wanted to feel a warm embrace in cake form? This fluffy and moist Swiss roll won't disappoint. 4 out of 5 stars.
“Wow, look at that!” Danielle pats her on the back with a big grin, but all Minji can see is Hanni—the tenseness at the corner of her lips, the brief glance that she shoots Minji before disappearing into the locker room.
The bus ride back to their dorm is silent. Hanni sits three rows in front of her and Minji spends the whole ride staring at the back of her head. There is this weird aching in her chest, like someone is squeezing her heart and trying to shatter it.
The next morning, on her way to class, she finds Hanni asleep in the communal kitchen. Hanni cracks her eyes open when Minji steps into the room but she doesn't say anything. There are sponge cake crumbles on the table and dirty dishes in the sink. The dried batter on Hanni's arm looks like a scrape wound from a bad fall.
“Sorry,” Minji finally says after a long silence.
The sun falling in from the window catches in Hanni's tired eyes, her arms hiding the lower half of her face. “For what?” she rasps, voice still thick with sleep. Minji thinks about stray kittens in cardboard boxes, thinks about running her hand through Hanni's dark locks.
“I don't know,” Minji admits. “I just thought I should.”
Dust motes in the air. Hanni tilts her head up to look at Minji. The sun feels warm against Minji's neck. And suddenly, her heart itches for something she can't seem to put into words.
🍰
Hanni spends the whole night trying to get the perfect Swiss Roll. She watches the cakes rise in the oven and thinks about all the times she had to prove herself—to her parents, to her peers, to the chefs—just to be sitting here and sulking over Swiss Rolls. They all end up either too dry or too moist anyway.
That Spongebob band-aid is still clinging to her finger like a piece of gum. Hanni peels it off halfway, before Minji's face flashes across her mind. Minji and her tall nose and round eyes and her stupid smile. Minji and her perfect sponge cakes and absolute inability to not get herself into trouble.
Hanni puts the band-aid back and that stupid sponge grins back at her like it is delighted by her misery.
She ends up falling asleep in the kitchen. When she wakes up the next morning, Minji is already standing in the kitchen and looking at her with a tense expression. Hanni thinks this is quite stupid, that she is being quite stupid. It's just a sponge cake. It's just a stupid crush.
Maybe she just wants Minji to stand in front of her with a straight back and a triumphant grin and say: “My sponge cakes are better than yours. So what?”
Maybe she just wants Minji to take this seriously, take Hanni seriously, take herself seriously.
But instead, it's whatever this is.
“I don't know,” Minji says, eyes darting downwards to the floor. “I thought I should.” She looks like she is about to cry. Maybe Hanni should give her a hug. Or say something nice.
She tries. It comes out like this: “Sorry. I know I can be an idiot sometimes.”
Minji looks up. In the sun, her eyes sparkle like stars flashing across the night sky. It’s strange what a single gaze manages to do, because suddenly, Hanni wants to run her finger through Minji’s messy hair, wants to kiss that stupid frown off her face. She wants and wants and it never seems to stop.
Maybe she is being too greedy. Maybe she should allow herself to be even greedier. Hanni doesn't know—maybe she will never know what the right thing to do is.
As for now, she just looks at Minji, letting that longing linger for one more exhale.
🍰
Things get weird for two weeks after that, but for once, it’s not entirely Minji's fault (even if she still can't look Hanni in the eyes without feeling her legs wobble.)
One morning, they run into each other at the laundry room again and Hanni looks up from the book in her lap with a kind smile and says, “Cool slippers.”
Minji glances down at her green Grinch slippers and for a moment, she can't tell if it was a joke or a serious compliment.
Then, one day after work, when they are on their way to the bus station, Hanni asks, “You want a beer or something?”
“Um, sure.” Minji nods, not really knowing what else to do.
They end up in the laundry room again, watching someone's laundry spin inside the stomach of the machine as they idly sip on their cheap beer.
“So, did you always want to go to culinary school?”
“I tried to get into medicine before that,” Minji mumbles into her can of beer.
“Because you liked it?”
“Well…” She takes a sip from her beer, contemplates for a moment, then continues. “My dad… he really wanted me to do something proper. But I guess I just wasn’t cut for it. He was quite disappointed when I told him I wanted to make cupcakes instead of curing cancer.”
Hanni leans forward, propping her chin up with her hand. In the background, the machine hums steadily. “Well, one heals the body, the other heals the soul,” she says with a small grin. Minji tries to not lose her mind over the way the corner of her eyes crinkle.
“What about you?” she asks instead, sounding like a balloon slowly losing its air.
The can gleams coldly in the light. Hanni is still looking at her, or maybe past her; Minji can't really tell. The clothes in the machine blur into a shapeless blob of colors
“You know, I’ve always wanted to be the best at everything,” Hanni mutters, almost like a confession. “And it makes me feel utterly worthless when I fail at something. So, I picked something I thought I excelled at.”
Minji swallows. She doesn't really look at Hanni. “But nobody is perfect, right?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Hanni chuckles. “I read that somewhere on Tumblr too when I was fourteen.”
“You're welcome–” Minji doesn't finish her sentence because Hanni interrupts her with a loud shriek.
“Oh my fucking god is that a spider,” Hanni gasps, hiding behind Minji who holds up her empty beer can as her sole weapon.
“Are you not Australian?” Minji asks, half-scared for her life because of that giant beast on the ceiling, half-amused because Hanni is squealing into her shoulder.
“Ohmygodpleasejustgetridofitplease,” Hanni pleads, shutting her eyes tightly and Minji feels her heart grow a little lighter.
By the end of week two, Minji messes up in the kitchen again.
“Pull yourself together, Kim Minji,” Hanni says, almost too gentle for it to be anger. And suddenly, Minji wants to tell her about how out of place she has been feeling here among all the top students. She wants to tell her she has been crying the night before because she just couldn't figure out why her sourdough bread never came out right. But Hanni already had her back turned towards her.
So, she finds herself standing outside the alley, staring at the poster peeling off the wall. She thinks about home and her mother standing by the oven—smiling gently at the rising dough. Seemingly, she was the only person left that didn't think of Minji as a complete failure.
Suddenly, footsteps echo through the empty alleyway and Hanni slowly emerges from the shadow. Her hair is falling out of her ponytail, her back slouched in exhaustion.
“Here you are,” she says with a small smile, before reaching into her pocket. She pulls out a handful of sweets, then gestures for Minji to open her palm.
“Um, thank you.” Minji blinks at the colorful wrapping paper in her hand—they still have Hanni's warmth lingering on them. She carefully opens one of them and pops it into her mouth, but the sour taste immediately makes her grimace.
“Hey, you alright?” Hanni says, almost like she is holding back a laugh.
Minji nods, her tongue still numb. “M’fine,” she manages to squeeze out.
“You can spit them out,” Hanni says, her eyes fixed on Minji. Seeing Minji stubbornly shake her head, she lets out a sigh. Then says, a little softer, “Sorry, I guess I'm really not that good at being nice.”
“But you—you help Haerin during class and you let Hyein borrow your notes and—”
“But I keep making you upset.”
“I’m not…” Something strange bubbles up in Minji's throat. She chokes on it—maybe tears, maybe not, but Hanni is still looking at her and Minji wishes that she would never stop.
“It's not you, not entirely you,” she finally confesses.
Hanni’s face softens into a smile. “You know, I got scolded today for putting the whipped cream on too early,” she says, leaning against the wall behind her. “I’m quick. That's why I do well on exams. But you're…” She squints her eyes, thinking. “Something.”
Minji laughs, feeling the tenseness leave her body. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“I guess I’m bad at that too.” Hanni sighs dramatically. “But you know what's easy?”
“What?”
Hanni grins. “Alcohol.”
And in the dim lights of the alleyway, Minji finally memorizes Hanni's smile.
🍰
“Honestly, I am impressed,” Danielle says in the middle of their Love Island marathon. Hanni was already half-asleep by the end of episode two. “You've been eye-fucking each other for more than a month already and you are telling me you haven't hooked up yet?”
“Ew.”
“Ew, what?” Danielle sits up and stares at Hanni. “I should be the one ew-ing at you guys!”
“You’re just jealous we are such good friends,” Hanni mutters into her blanket. She feels like she is going to have a really nice dream about salt bread soon.
“Friends?” Danielle scoffs. “Yeah sure.”
“So, what's up with you lately,” Hanni tries to deflect. “You keep grinning at your phone like an idiot.”
“And that has absolutely nothing to do with you and Minji.”
But Hanni is already asleep.
She wakes up sometime between morning and noon, feeling hellishly disoriented. When she turns her head, she comes face to face with Danielle's horrendous pizza socks. What kind of freak sleeps with their socks on?
“Wow, your hair,” Minji comments unhelpfully when she runs into Hanni on her way to carry the trash out in the evening. “It's like… everywhere.”
“I know,” Hanni grumbles before squeezing past Minji.
Outside, the air has already grown cold. Minji is trailing behind her, awkwardly holding the trash bag in her right hand and trying not to bump her knee against it. It reminds Hanni a bit of a puppy’s clumsy first steps, which she finds oddly hilarious.
“Um, are you cold?” Minji suddenly asks on their way back to the building.
Hanni looks down at herself. She is wearing nothing but her tank top and shorts. “A little,” she admits.
“Here then.”
Minji takes her cardigan off and drapes it over Hanni's shoulder. It still smells like Minji. It reminds Hanni of melted butter and fluffy rolls. She shrugs deeper into it. It almost feels like an embrace. She doesn't remember the last time she has been hugged. No, she does. Yesterday Danielle almost suffocated her when her favorite couple didn't make it into the final round. So, maybe she just really wants a hug from Minji.
Instead, she says, “The sleeves are all bobbly.”
“Hey…” Minji sulks. “It's my favorite cardigan.”
One month. It takes Hanni one full month to be fully convinced that Minji definitely doesn't like her in that way. Just last week, after Hanni somehow managed to salvage Minji's crumbling chocolate cake, she looked at Hanni with teary eyes and declared: “I don't know what I would do without you, bro.” The next day, she showed up with a friendship bracelet and declared: “I really treasure our friendship. I want you to know that.”
Hanni supposes that isn't too bad. If only she didn't have regular fantasies about biting said friend's plump lips.
“I think you can add a bit more chocolate the next time,” Minji comments after a bite from the lava cake, but Hanni only absentmindedly drums her fingers against the table, her eyes fixed on the crumb at the corner of Minji's mouth.
Hanni swears she tries, but by the time Minji is almost finished with the whole cake, she still wants to maul her (read: kiss the melted chocolate off her lips).
“Um, by the way, I just watched the movie last night. You know, the one with the green and pink witch that you really like. I think that last song was quite neat,” Minji says and it's painfully obvious that she has no idea what she is talking about. And she is wearing those stupid glasses that make her look like an absolute nerd and Hanni just really, really wants to knock them off her stupidly tall nose.
Yeah, I like Defying Gravity too, was what Hanni meant to say. “Have you ever kissed someone before?” is what ends up coming out.
Minji lowers her spoon. “Um, sorry what?”
“What?” Oh my fucking god. Hanni tries to stay calm.
“Um, uh.” Minji glances around like a lost child looking for their mother in the mall.
“Platonically, I mean.” What the hell does that even mean?
“I… I’m not sure what you mean…”
“So,” what if I just kissed you right now, in a totally platonic way and we never talk about it ever again because what the fuck am I even thinking, “just forget it.”
This strange tension carries into Monday, and suddenly Hanni is staring at the new guy who is talking to Minji as they prepare the macrons together from across the kitchen. Danielle thinks he looks a bit like Ryan Gosling. Hanni finds that comparison quite insulting.
“Hey, you should stop trying to shoot him dead with your eyes,” Danielle says, waving a hand in front of Hanni's eyes. “Your caramel is about to burn.”
On Tuesday, Hanni slots herself right between him and Minji. It doesn't do much to resolve the situation since he just chooses to talk over Hanni's head. (And no, Hanni isn't small—she is perfectly average.)
“Hey, is there any kind of music you enjoy?” he asks with a sheepish grin.
“Um, I listen to anything honestly,” Minji responds, eyes focused on the piping bag in her hand. “But yeah, recently I've been listening to a lot of older songs. Like… what was it again, Hanni?”
“Backstreet Boys.”
“Yeah, right, Backstreet Boys.”
“Oh, I like the Backstreet Boys too,” the guy says, but the conversation doesn't manage to pick up from there.
Hanni finishes her prep work that day while humming I Want It That Way.
Things boil over on a Friday, when he tries to ask Minji out on a date. Hanni overhears him asking her about her plans for the weekend and before her brain can come up with anything logical, she is already grabbing Minji by the wrist.
“Wicked is playing in the cinema this weekend.”
Minji makes a sound that's somewhere between an oh and a huh. Hanni doesn't think she quite understands.
“I’m asking you to go with me.”
“Oh, um.” Minji lets out a confused noise. The guy (Tom or Thomas or whatever his name is) glances between them and Hanni just stares ahead, feeling her cheeks flush under the bright light.
“Sorry,” she mutters after a long, stretched out silence. She wonders if the pot of flour standing on the counter is large enough for her to disappear in.
“I’m… free,” Minji finally says something coherent. Then that guy's agitating voice cuts in again.
“I’m free too, if you guys don't mind me tagging along!” He grins and Hanni really wants to snap his head off.
“Sure,” she says instead, the smile barely clinging to the corner of her lips.
🍰
“I am confused,” Hyein says, sitting cross-legged on Minji's carpet. “What is a man doing there?”
“Thomas?” Minji looks up from the dresses on her bed. “He just kind of invited himself?”
“Ugh, worst kind of people,” Haerin comments, her head resting against Hyein's leg as she types away on her phone. She's been suspiciously often on her phone lately.
“He’s nice,” Minji argues. “Volunteered as a paramedic for a year.”
Haerin raised an eyebrow. “You like him?”
“I guess,” Minji shrugs. “He’s good at opening jars.”
“So you like him like a good kitchen tool?”
“I’m not sure if we should objectify him—”
“C’mon!” Hyein interrupts Minji cheerfully. “We all know that I’m going to win this bet!”
Haerin looks up from her phone, unimpressed. “Then explain why a guy is suddenly involved in this.”
“Well…” And Hyein plunges into a nonsensical and long-winded explanation that Minji barely can even recall. What sticks with her, however, is Haerin's remark, and by the time Sunday rolls around she is still thinking about it.
“I just don't fucking get why it refuses to stay in shape,” Hanni mumbles under her breath. She has been desperately trying to make a Baked Alaska for the last four hours.
Minji sighs, staring at the remains of the first failed attempt she just forced down her stomach. The sweetness is making her sick. She thinks she is about to vomit. “You know, Rome also wasn't built in a day.”
“Yeah, and if I don't get this fucking thing to stand on its own I can say bye-bye to my culinary career.” Hanni stabs her fork into the newest failed creation and crosses her arms with an angry frown as she chews on it aggressively. She could probably shatter a whole human bone with the ferocity she is grinding her teeth together.
The movie is starting in two hours. Minji really wants to take a shower and change into some nice clothes, but Hanni is still glaring at the mush on her plate like she wants to burn holes into it. Maybe she doesn't even remember that she asked Minji out for a movie, or maybe she does and she thinks that getting that Baked Alaska right is more important than anything. And maybe that invitation was never something serious to begin with. Minji understands, or at least, she tries to.
“You alright?” Hanni asks after aggressively chewing herself through half of the cake. “You look… constipated.”
“I’m fine,” Minji says, drawing patterns into the melted ice cream on the plate. “Or maybe a little sick. I don't know.”
Hanni drums her fingers against the desk. Once, twice, then she says, “Sorry. I know I’m being a bit intense. I just…” She exhales softly, looking at the clock on the wall. “Sorry, I really thought I was going to finish sooner. Let's meet outside at thirty?”
Minji blinks. “You remember?”
“What? Of course I do,” Hanni says, almost offended. “Those tickets were expensive as hell.”
Which is how Minji finds herself squeezed between Thomas and Hanni in a pitch black room, watching the pink and green witch serenading each other.
Minji tries to remember the last time she felt so awkward—somehow the only thing she can recall is catching her uncle making out with her mother’s best friend during Christmas dinner. She promptly pushes that image away.
To her left, Hanni lets out a soft sob. To her right, Thomas stretches himself and yawns. And Minji only hugs the bucket of popcorn tighter.
“What did you think of the movie?” Thomas asks when the credits roll, his eyes half shut.
“Um,” Minji catches a glimpse of Hanni rating the movie 5 stars on Letterboxd, “it was quite nice.”
“Really?” Thomas yawns again. “I don't really get it.”
“Doesn't surprise me,” Hanni mutters under her breath and Minji just really wants to go home.
“Hey, do you guys wanna go bowling?” Thomas suggests as they are walking out of the cinema.
“Sure,” Hanni says before Minji can react. “If Minji doesn't mind.”
And now, Minji is sitting on the bench and watching Hanni miss the pins completely again, her cheeks flushed and sweat dripping from her forehead.
“So, you guys are good friends?” Thomas asks as Hanni finally manages to hit one single pin.
“I guess so,” Minji says. The friendship bracelet Minji gifted her is dangling off Hanni's wrist and swaying with every movement. (Actually, it wasn't a friendship bracelet at all. Minji just panicked when Hanni asked her why she was giving her that. So “friendship bracelet” seemed an easier explanation than “I found it in a vintage shop and the little bee on it really reminded me of you.”)
Thomas hums, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck before he opens his mouth again. “Do you think she likes me?”
For a moment, Minji forgets how to speak. She just stares at him, eyes wide in disbelief.
“You know,” he continues, “I’ve noticed her always looking in my direction with this very intense gaze and she keeps trying to tag along.”
And the worst part about this all, is that somehow, it is starting to make sense to Minji.
She lets out a strained laugh. “I think she is just being nice.”
Thomas glances in Hanni's direction. She still has her last try left. “I don't know… she seems sort of like… really intense,” he whispers to Minji. “Does she take everything so seriously?”
Hanni's gaze focuses on the last pin in front of her and Minji thinks about everything she has ever known about Hanni—standing alone in the kitchen hunched over the oven, sleeping on the flour-stained counter, grinning when the Baked Alaska finally doesn't crumble into itself.
“Because they matter to her,” Minji tells him, and Hanni finally manages to hit the last target.
“Oh,” Thomas says, something unreadable flashing across his face. “I can't believe I was this stupid.”
Minji cocks her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You—” He bites back the rest of his sentence and shakes his head with a laugh. “Nevermind.”
“What do you think about Thomas?” Minji asks Hanni on the train back to their dorm.
Hanni doesn't look up from her phone, scrolls to the next video of fluffy cows. “I don't know.” She sighs as the train rattles forward. Four stop until theirs. “I honestly think he is a bit of a dolt.”
“Did he… say something that upset you?”
Hanni scrolls down again—one of those shitty AI-generated movie summaries. “No, I mean, I barely even know him.”
People pour in and out of the train. Minji bites the insides of her cheeks, feeling a strange tightness in her chest. “Sorry,” she says, barely louder than a whisper. “I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t. It's my fault.” Hanni sighs, then a weak smile appears on her face. “Honestly, who am I to tell you not to like him.”
“I like you more than I like him,” Minji admits, truthfully, but Hanni only laughs, like she doesn't believe it. “Really, I mean it!”
“Idiot.” Hanni is still smiling, but for some reason, it looks a little sad. Minji wonders if it's just the light.
And if it isn't the light, what else could it be?
🍰
In the blink of an eye, their internship is almost over and somehow, nothing goes right for her. Today, Hanni finds herself being scolded by the chef again for not letting the macrons rest for long enough.
“How many times do I have to tell you to be patient,” he says, using his hands for emphasis. “Be patient. Be patient. Be patient. I think I’m speaking English, right?”
“Sorry, chef,” Hanni replies, head low. “It won't happen again.” Then she notices Minji standing by the door, looking at her with those pitiful eyes, and Hanni wishes nothing more than to just disappear.
She remembers being thirteen and having her first taste of victory. At the national youth baking championship, she smiles down at her parents from the podium with the gold medal around her neck.
And now, at the brink of twenty-one, Hanni wonders if everything was just a dream that was too good to be true.
“Do you need help with the frosting?” Minji’s voice cuts through her thoughts. Hanni looks up, and barely manages a weak, “I can handle it myself.”
Minji is only becoming more and more effortless. She steps into the kitchen and immediately knows her place, maneuvers between the oven and the stand-mixer without losing a beat.
And one day, Minji will be better than her, too good for her. Which is why Hanni can't look her in the eye when she asks why she has been acting so strange lately. Or why she would rather stare into the bathroom mirror, feeling strangely empty.
Suddenly, the door behind her creaks open. And there is Minji, standing by the door, looking at her, and again Hanni doesn't know if she wants to run—and if she does, if it's towards or away from Minji.
“Sorry—” Minji's eyes widen as she takes a step back. “I didn't…”
Hanni's grip on the edge of the sink tightens. “Why do you keep apologizing for things that aren't your fault?” Tears well up behind her eyes, threatening to push past. “Stop being so nice to an idiot like me.”
“But—”
“Leave, please.”
Hanni closes her eyes when she hears the door fall shut behind her.
“You can't keep running away from her,” Danielle says, bumping their knees together as Hanni curls deeper into the blanket.
“I don't know.” The bright light from her laptop screen flashes across her face. She barely even registers what she is watching. “This love thing is scaring me.”
“What's so scary about it?”
Hanni tries to find the words, tries to layer them into something presentable, but all she comes up with is, “I don't like being seen.”
The room falls silent for a moment, everything holds its breath, until Danielle says, “But that's not how it works.” She gently shuts Hanni's laptop and pulls her closer by her arm. “You know, sometimes you have to let people see the ugly side. Nobody is always perfect.”
“That sounds even worse.”
“But isn't that the beautiful thing about love?” Danielle smiles softly, putting a hand over Hanni's. “It gives you the courage to face yourself.”
Hanni laughs, small and pitiful. “Too bad I’m just a coward.”
“You're not, Hanni,” Danielle says firmly. “Everyone gets scared sometimes. But you still have time, so tell her, before it's really too late.”
Hanni finds Minji in the communal kitchen, sitting on the floor and staring at the oven. On the table are two fresh batches of chocolate chip cookies, their comforting smell filling the room.
“I just can't get them right,” Minji says, pulling her legs towards her chest. “They always come out too dry or too gooey.”
Hanni wordlessly sits down beside her, keeping an arm's length of distance. The floor is cold. The orange glow from the oven melts across Minji's features—tall nose, round eyes, soft lips. Hanni traces them carefully, and maybe if she is careful enough, she can remember them forever, even in the days when they only run past each other in the hallways again.
“Sorry…” Minji licks her lips. “About yesterday—”
“I told you,” Hanni cuts her off. “Stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault.”
“I…” Minji lets out a soft, defeated sigh. “Can I tell you something?” Hanni nods and Minji continues. “The chef…. he talked to me yesterday. And he asked if I wanted to join his team next year on some sort of cruise ship gig.”
“Congrats,” Hanni says. She really wants to mean it, but all she can think about is how their internship will be over soon. And when the next semester starts, Minji will be known for her Swiss rolls and sponge bases, while Hanni slowly fades away until no one remembers her anymore.
“But… I told him I’m not sure yet.”
Hanni blinks up. “What? Why would you—”
“Because I think you deserve it more.”
Hanni feels all the air leave her lungs. She wants to grab Minji by the collar and tell her she doesn't need to be pitied, that she doesn't need anyone's kindness because it just makes her feel more useless. But at the same time, she wants to cry, because Minji is always so kind, and she wants to tell Minji to stop being so kind to her.
“You know, sometimes I really want to gnaw your nose off,” is what escapes her instead.
“Huh?”
“Oh, fuck it.” Hanni reaches out for Minji's collar and pulls her closer, forcing her to look at her. “You know that you are good, right?”
“I—”
“You make Swiss Rolls that get 4-star reviews from the meanest food critics. You are the only person who makes macrons that the chef can't complain about. You bake some of the best cookies I have ever had in my life. So, what makes you think you are so fucking worthless? Is it me? Tell me, Minji? What is it?”
Minji keeps blinking. This time, she doesn't even manage to make a sound.
“You want to hear more?” Hanni's grip on Minji's collar tightens. “Okay, listen then. I keep telling myself that I shouldn't fall in love with you, and yet here I am, thinking about how much I wish you didn't care about me at all or how badly I want to kiss you right now.”
The air stills for a moment. Hanni waits for a laugh, a “sorry, what”, but instead, Minji leans forward and suddenly, Hanni's world stops spinning, or maybe it has stopped spinning long before that—on the day Minji almost ruined her two tier mirror glaze cake.
🍰
Minji is twenty-one when she kisses Hanni for the first time.
(Well, maybe calling it a kiss is a bit too generous. It's more like smashing her front teeth against Hanni's.)
The first thing that happens after that is silence—a long, stretched out silence in which neither of them even dare to breathe. Hanni's hand still has Minji's collar in a tight grip, and Minji stares at her, eyes wide and unmoving.
“I think I forgot to put butter into the cookie dough…” Minji finally rasps out.
Hanni stares at her for another heartbeat. Then she laughs, and Minji grins back—stupidly in love.