Work Text:
A truth should exist. It should not be used. If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?
- Margaret Atwood | We are hard
She recalled this little memento: Jessica sprawled across her chest, giggling after a round of tickles. She recalled this little keepsake: Jessica breathing on her skin, her voice a whisper in a catch of breath.
She recalled this little gift: Jessica saying that she wished she could pack her in a little pouch and take her to the place she used to call home.
Taeyeon hadn’t said anything then, because she had naively thought that they would have a million chances to do that. To do a lot of things that the two of them wanted to do. They were idols after all – a big part of their jobs was to travel.
She supposed she hadn’t realized then that life had a way of playing with you when you were the most unguarded. The happiest you could ever be.
“Either I’m dreaming or Kim Taeyeon is right here in San Francisco.”
Taeyeon jumped a little and swung around, fearful that she might have been recognized by an unassuming fan. She blinked when she recognized the woman before her.
Jessica raised her brows, and rather than the animosity that Taeyeon would have expected after all that had been done and said, the woman was smiling. It wasn’t one of those smiles that Jessica used to bless her with back when they were toeing the line between love and friendship, but it was a smile nonetheless.
The universe, Taeyeon decided, had a sick sense of humor.
“Hi,” Taeyeon managed, her vocabulary apparently shrunken to monosyllables. She glanced around her and cleared her throat. “You’re not dreaming. I’m just…lost.”
Lost in time. Lost in place. Lost in Lombard Street, with the tilting houses and the mind-bending geography.
She never realized how confusing the world could be. She used to have people guiding her, people like Jessica, Tiffany, Sunny, and a whole host of girls who steered in so many directions in this lifetime. Sometimes, the best directions; sometimes, the worst directions that made her regret, big or small.
At one point, that direction led her to the point of no return, but she had no one but herself to blame for that, really. And now, the point of return was staring back at her, tilting her head in curiosity.
“Wanna get a drink? Alcoholic or caffeinated is up to you,” Jessica invited.
Taeyeon blinked and found herself nodding before she even let herself consider the offer. “Coffee, then,” she replied. “Daytime isn’t really appropriate for drinking.”
Jessica snorted and started leading the way back down the street, careful in her steps so they wouldn’t fall. “Have you met your fellow members? Yuri’s three quarters to alcoholic at this point.”
They fell into step beside each other, not quite walking together but not apart either. The space between them felt measured. Deliberate. Like they were both acutely aware of how many inches separated their shoulders, their hands, the careful distance they maintained.
It didn’t take long for them to reach a somewhat hidden café around the corner. There wasn’t a queue, so they quite efficiently got ahold of their orders without any mishap and ended up making themselves comfortable by the window.
“You guys talk about me?” Taeyeon dared herself to ask.
Jessica nodded, taking a moment to think of her words. “I don’t like to hide from the past,” she decided.
Taeyeon froze, remembering a clip she saw online.
“It’s not about forgetting the past – it’s about embracing it all,” spoken somewhere in Malaysia.
Her instincts that jumpstarted a little too late were practically screeching for her to run. Run, before this café would trap her here, before this unspoken past would creep its way slowly to the present and remind her of all her mistakes.
And yet, sitting here in front of the woman who had taught her almost everything in her adult life, her feet were leaden and her mind was set. She couldn’t walk away again even if she tried.
“How long have you been here?” Jessica redirected.
“This morning.”
“That’s it?”
“I didn’t exactly plan this trip.”
Jessica snorted again and took a long sip from her cup. “So what are your plans?”
Taeyeon looked up then, meeting those dark, perceptive eyes. The smile was gone, replaced by a look that was disconcertingly open.
It wasn't the resentment of the hotel rooms or the polite mask of dorm life. It was something raw. Something that looked like the girl who wanted to pack her in a pouch.
“I don’t know,” she admitted with a sigh. “I supposed I came to the realization that I’d almost seen the whole world, but I never got to see yours.”
Jessica went quiet for a moment, fingers wrapped around her cup like it was anchoring her. “You know Tiffany was born here too, right? Same hospital and all that.”
Taeyeon huffed softly, looking back down at her cup. The surface had gone still, her reflection warped and unfamiliar. “I know.”
“Then why not start with her?” Jessica pressed, gentle but curious. “It might be easier.”
Taeyeon shook her head. “It’s not the same.”
The words came out too fast. Too honest. Taeyeon wanted to take them back immediately, shove them down her throat and swallow until they disappeared. But they hung there between them instead, naked and obvious.
Jessica's expression shifted – something flickered across her face that Taeyeon couldn't read. Surprise, maybe. Or understanding. Or that dangerous thing that lived in the space between hope and hurt.
“No,” Jessica said quietly. “I guess it's not.”
The silence stretched between them, heavy with implications that Taeyeon wasn't sure she was ready to unpack. Jessica's fingers drummed against her coffee cup, a rhythm Taeyeon recognized from countless recording sessions – the way Jessica processed information, worked through complicated thoughts.
“I could show you around,” she offered, her words casual, her eyes anything but. “If you want – I mean, you’re here without a plan, and the girls would kill me if I let their precious leader get lost here.”
“You don’t have to –”
“I know I don’t have to.” Jessica left it at that, pushing on to her feet and pinning Taeyeon down with a simmering gaze.
“Okay,” Taeyeon relented, the single word a sacred vow, a leap into the unknown. “Okay.”
The offer fell like a delicate snowflake, landing softly on the raw, open wound of Taeyeon’s longing. And again, Taeyeon would be cruel to reject Jessica again.
They didn’t take a car.
Jessica insisted on walking, claiming that one wouldn’t be able to truly feel the pulse of the city through a tinted window. It was a rich claim for a woman whose motto was to never run even when she was late.
Taeyeon followed anyway. At this point, she was certain she would have followed the woman into a burning building if Jessica had asked with that specific, effortless tilt of her head.
Away from the zigzagging spectacle of Lombard they went, weaving through streets that felt increasingly intimate, down sidewalks and alleys that became so narrow that their shoulders touched. Sure, they were wearing jackets in the spring weather, but Taeyeon allowed herself the luxury of illusion.
“Here,” Jessica said as they reached a residential pocket where the houses were stacked like colorful books on a shelf, stopping at the base of a nondescript staircase tucked between Victorian fences.
Taeyeon lifted her gaze to see a steep climb. “Where are we going?”
“The Tiled Steps are for people who want pictures. These are for people who want to disappear.” Jessica turned to the older woman. “Unless you want to take pictures?”
“No, I’ve taken enough pictures to last a lifetime.”
“There can never be too many pictures of Kim Taeyeon,” Jessica remarked, jokingly but also a little too seriously for Taeyeon’s liking.
It was a grueling climb. Taeyeon’s lungs burned, a sharp reminder of the years she had spent in sterile dance studios instead of the open air. But every time she felt like flagging, she saw the sway of Jessica’s coat a few steps ahead – a North Star in a cream-colored trench.
At the top, Taeyeon leaned against the railing and Jessica doubled over, panting like they’d just finished a three-hour concert. She could only chuckle, because of course Jessica would make herself do this.
Before them, the city unfolded in layers. Rows of houses spilling downward, rooftops like stepping stones, the fog rolling steadily in the distance as if it hadn’t decided whether to stay or leave. It wasn’t dramatic in the way postcards promised – quieter, earned.
“You sang our songs,” Taeyeon commented after a few minutes of enjoying the view in silence.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I deserved it.”
When the legal department reached out to her about Jessica’s request, Taeyeon had been rightfully terrified. She didn’t know what it meant – Jessica requesting to sing their songs after more than a decade.
The first thought wasn’t even the consequences that would come after, either for the group, herself, or Jessica. The first thought had been the urge to yell at Jessica for putting herself through such a harrowing task. If she had been in Jessica’s position, she wouldn’t even want to touch anything related to Girls’ Generation with a ten-foot pole.
Then again, Jessica was always the bravest of all of them. There was no denying it, not after eight of them watch her go forth and take the world into the palm of her own hands.
“I didn’t do it to hurt anyone. I didn’t do it to make a point.”
“I know. That’s what scared me.” She took a deep breath. “Everything about you scares me.”
“Please,” Jessica scoffed.
Yes, of course, Jessica deserved it. To be fair, she deserved far more than what the world handed to her – what Taeyeon had personally doled out to her.
Those songs didn’t reach the charts by themselves, and sure, nine women worked together to make sure they could become the blueprint of girl groups. But there was also no denying that it was the harmony of Jessica and Taeyeon’s voices, going to the lowest of lows and the highest of highs together, that played a big part in their success.
What was it that the internet said? The once-in-a-lifetime vocal harmony to ever grace K-Pop, or something or other.
“You sang beautifully.”
“I was sharp in places.”
“I would have been sharp without you accompanying me,” Taeyeon admitted, a sheepish smile on her face as she finally turned to look at the woman who had been her dreams since 2014. “Those are not easy notes, Jessica, and we made them happen.”
Jessica turned back to the view, but Taeyeon caught the way her fingers tightened around the railing, knuckles white against the metal.
She looked out at the city, her profile sharp against the softening sky, and for a moment, they weren't the tragic remnants of a fallen era or the messy subjects of a tabloid's wildest dreams. They were just two halves of a sound that had once defined a generation, standing on a hill where the air was too thin for lies.
“Tiffany’s probably losing her mind.”
“My phone’s on silent.”
Jessica laughed – a real laugh this time. “She’s definitely losing her mind then.”
They had descended from their perch above the city and found themselves in another pocket of San Francisco that felt removed from time.
Ina Coolbrith Park was barely a park at all – more like someone's secret garden that had been left unlocked by accident. A small patch of green carved into Russian Hill, with benches that faced the bay and trees that seemed to lean in conspiratorially.
“This was not in the brochure I read on the plane,” Taeyeon commented, looking around her as she started walking backwards, intent to keep her gaze on Jessica.
Jessica gasped, placing her hand on her chest dramatically. “I’m a better guide than a damn brochure, Kim Taeyeon,” she complained with a pout, and Taeyeon had to look away momentarily so she wouldn’t kiss it away. “What does the brochure say?”
“Lombard Street, for one. Hailing a Waymo –”
“Those are death traps.”
“Salesforce Tower. Filoli. Fisherman’s Wharf. Golden Gate Bridge.”
“Okay, those are all places destined to drive you to bankruptcy, but I do agree with Golden Gate Bridge. We can head there next, if you want to.”
Taeyeon resisted the urge to say that she would go anywhere Jessica wanted to take her to. She just raised her brows with a shrug. “Like I said, I didn’t plan this trip.”
The park was empty, save for the trees rustling and the distant clatter of a cable car on Mason Street. Jessica led them towards a bench that would overlook another angle of the city, different from the one they had earlier.
She watched Jessica. The woman was a master of establishing presence – even in the middle of a quiet park in what would have been one of the busiest cities in the world.
She had to wonder how many times Jessica had sat here alone whenever she was in San Francisco, carrying dreams too large for the girl she’d been.
“You like it here,” Taeyeon observed.
“It’s quiet,” Jessica replied. “I’ve had enough disorder that I crave for crickets and leaves and just…nothing and no one demanding me to do this or that.”
Taeyeon hummed, fully understanding where Jessica was coming from. It would be remiss of her not to let Jessica have her moments of quiet now, so she proceeded to fish out her long-ignored phone from her coat pocket and wasn’t even surprised to find the myriad of texts and missed calls and emails waiting for her.
Yuri (10:12 a.m.): Taeyeon, I know there’s a time difference in San Francisco
Yuri (10:12 a.m.): But would you please call Tiffany back?
Yuri (10:13 a.m.): She’s wearing a hole on my rug and it’s an expensive rug
Seohyun (10:14 a.m.): Hold on, isn’t that…?
Sunny (10:16 a.m.): This is why I left SM
Yoona (10:33 a.m.): Taeyeon-unnie, why didn’t you take me with you?
Yoona (10:34 a.m.): I MISSED HER TOO
Hyoyeon (11:11 a.m.): lmao you did not
Sooyoung (11:47 a.m.): is she pretty? is she sexy? have you fucked?
Tiffany (12:02 p.m.): I will personally strangle you, Kim Taeyeon.
Tiffany (12:03 p.m.): Answer the goddamn phone
Tiffany (12:15 p.m.): I know you’re with her
Tiffany (12:26 p.m.): Fine, don’t answer. I’m not picking up the pieces this time if you end up heartbroken again
Taeyeon stared at her screen longer than necessary, thumb hovering uselessly over the keyboard. The messages stacked on top of one another like proof. Proof that the world hadn’t paused just because she had stepped out of it for a few hours. Proof that she was expected somewhere else, by people who loved her loudly and relentlessly.
Jessica glanced over, clearly noticing the notifications as she chuckled. “Someone’s in trouble,” she sang.
The older woman turned the screen off and pocketed her phone again. “No reason to not stay in trouble longer then.”
“We used to live a few blocks down from here when I was a kid,” Jessica offered, gesturing vaguely in the air. “When I found out mom was pregnant with Soojung, I was – well, I wasn’t very happy,” she said with a laugh. “So I ran away when they weren’t looking.”
Taeyeon’s eyes widened, gasping as she swerved to face Jessica again. She’d seen a host of pictures featuring Jessica in her childhood. She could imagine the miniature version of this woman before her, barely five, toddling down steep sidewalks and strange streets with nowhere to go.
It scared her.
“I didn’t exactly have the best survival instincts – probably still don’t, actually. Somehow, I ended up here in this park. And I cried like a baby, thinking that my parents won’t love me anymore with a baby sister on the way,” Jessica recounted.
Taeyeon could picture it perfectly. A small Jessica with chubby cheeks and that same stubborn set to her jaw, arms crossed, lower lip jutting out in a pout that probably made her parents panic when they found her.
“Little did I know that Soojung would be my ultimate support system. She’s been there with me through thick and thin. She saw me at my worst and my best. I vowed to become the ideal role model for her, but I don’t think I’m fulfilling it at all.”
When Taeyeon first met Krystal, she remembered thinking that the little girl was a carbon copy of her older sister – sharp jaws, cold eyes, pretty lips, and all too shy. Back then, she only thought of Krystal as Jessica’s adorable younger sister that she had a responsibility to look after as well.
She made sure the f(x) dorm would never run out of groceries. She made sure to include the younger group in any discussions or activities that involved female participation. She looked out for Krystal in crowds because according to Jessica, the younger woman got scared of crowds easily. She made a point to invite Krystal to their dorms whenever she realized that the girl would be alone.
For many years, Krystal was just that – an additional younger sister to the roster.
Until all hell broke loose, and Krystal became an incredibly defensive younger sister, stuck with a company and colleagues that she no longer trusted for what they did to Jessica.
“I think you underestimate how much Krystal admires you,” Taeyeon said. “She once gave Sooyoung such a big bruise that it wouldn’t heal for a month.”
Jessica blinked. “She did not.”
“It was right after you left,” Taeyeon replied, choosing her words carefully. “Sooyoung said something thoughtless. And before we knew it, your sister had her up against the wall. We thought she was gonna kill Sooyoung.”
“What?”
“Our managers decided to keep it on the down low. It wouldn’t be good for the company’s reputation to have the two biggest girl groups fight, especially with everything.”
“Everything like what?”
“Like us being the only known girl groups SM had produced at that time. Like her being your sister.” Jessica looked away, understanding the connotations of Taeyeon’s words. “She called me that night – I think that’s the only time I’d known her to be drunk.”
“What did she say?”
“Asked me how I could let you go.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “How I could sit in that room and call for a vote that kicked you out when I was supposed to – when you were supposed to –”
“And how could you?”
Taeyeon froze. She struggled to find a proper explanation that could end it all – end the suffering and the quiet guilt – but there were no words. There was nothing that could be said or done that could sweep any of this under the rug.
Right now, San Francisco was just a pocket of oblivion. A place for her to hide and discover new things that she’d postponed for too long. And Jessica was here like a blessing, temporary as it may. She shouldn’t ruin it while she could have it.
She stood up and patted away at her coat.
“Come on, I wanna see the bridge,” she said.
A breeze stirred the leaves overhead, sending dappled shadows across the bench. Jessica stared at her for a long moment, and upon realizing that Taeyeon was deliberately ignoring her question, she sighed tiredly.
As they walked out of the park, Taeyeon felt the weight of Tiffany’s last text echoing in her mind.
The drive to the bridge was a quiet one, punctuated only by the low hum of the car’s engine and the rhythm of the city outside.
Jessica didn't push. She didn't repeat the question. She simply stared out the window, her reflection ghosting over the passing streetlights, while Taeyeon focused on the Uber driver’s GPS as if it were the only thing keeping her tethered to earth.
When they were dropped off at Battery Spencer, the wind was strong, but not so strong that they couldn’t walk or see.
“Where are you burying me?”
Jessica snorted. “Trust me – everyone wants to go to Crissy Field or the bridge itself. This is better.”
Taeyeon walked to the edge of the overlook and stopped. “Oh,” she breathed. “I didn’t know this existed.”
“Most tourists don’t. They all want to stand on the bridge, but my dad always says the best view is from a distance.”
“Your dad’s very wise.”
The bridge stretched out from here in full view, its red spine cutting cleanly across the water toward the city they’d just left behind. Without the fog pressing in, it looked almost gentle.
The wind was just as fierce here as it would have been on the bridge, whipping Taeyeon's hair into her face. She fumbled with the strands, trying to tuck them behind her ears, while Jessica stood beside her looking infuriatingly put-together despite the same conditions.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” Taeyeon accused.
“What?”
“Looking all perfectly windswept while I look positively electrocuted or something.”
“It’s not my fault that I’m perfect.”
Yes, yes, Jessica was – perfect. Taeyeon had never had the courage to say this to her face, and she certainly didn’t have the courage now. When it came to Jessica Jung, Taeyeon would probably be champion in cowardice.
She pulled her coat tighter around herself, grateful for the distraction of the cold.
“I used to have nightmares about the bridge,” Jessica said. “Never felt so lost in my life after everything happened. I’d dream I was walking across it, and halfway through, the railings would disappear and the only thing keeping me on my feet was myself.”
The admission hit Taeyeon like a physical blow. Jessica, who had always seemed so certain of her direction, so clear about what she wanted. To know she'd been lost too, adrift between worlds she could no longer quite call home – it made something crack open in Taeyeon's chest.
“So, are you seeing anyone?” the younger woman asked, lighthearted in a way that felt nothing but forced.
Taeyeon blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. “Uh, no,” she answered after a beat.
Of course, she tried – a few flings here and there, even some people who went beyond three dates but never more than five. She always found something – or someone – to compare them to. Either their laughter wasn’t right, or the way they held their chopsticks felt wrong, or even their eyes didn’t hit her in the spot.
She had had one great love, and there was no mimicking it, no matter how hard she tried to lower her standards.
“You?” She forced herself to ask, still not sure if she wanted to learn the answer.
“Single as I can ever be.”
Taeyeon whipped her gaze towards Jessica. She’d expected a different answer, what with the other woman still sticking with the same company that didn’t seem to know what to do with her power and the occasional appearances of that damn hair in pictures.
God, sometimes she wished Tyler Kwon was at least marginally good looking so she could pretend that Jessica was at least waking up to something worth looking at.
“I don’t know how many times I have to say that he’s literally just a business partner,” Jessica said with a tired sigh.
“He sucks at it.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Just cut him off.”
“You’re not exactly in a position to give me advice anymore, Taeyeon-ah.” Well, that was a low blow. “Plus, thanks to you and the girls and SM, no one in Korea would touch me with a ten-foot pole. I have nowhere to go.”
“I’m working on it.”
Jessica turned to look at her then, fully, and there was something sharp in her gaze. “What does that mean?”
Taeyeon ran her fingers through her hair, not that it mattered, given the wind would just blow it apart again. “It means I’m in a position to have conditions now. I’ve been making some calls. Talking to legal and all that. Trying to – I don’t know, undo some of the damage.”
“So, once again, my career lies in the palms of your hands.”
“Jessica –”
“No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to be my savior after you were my executioner first.”
The words hit harder than any physical blow could have. Taeyeon stepped back instinctively, her breath catching in her throat.
Because that was it, wasn't it?
That was the core of the wound that refused to heal. That Taeyeon, in her perceived authority, had somehow orchestrated Jessica's downfall. That she had allowed it. Or worse, caused it. The familiar shame washed over Taeyeon, cold and bitter as the bay water below.
She wanted to scream. To explain. To tear open her chest and show Jessica the years of sleepless nights, the silent battles waged against her own conscience, the futile attempts to shield what little dignity Jessica had left.
“I don’t need saving, Taeyeon-ah,” Jessica said, her tone softening. “What I have now may not be sold out venues or anything that could compare to what I had as a Girls’ Generation member, but it’s mine. I learned things about myself and I built something out of them.”
“I know that.”
“Then why? Why now? Why here? Why any of it?”
The question settled in her stomach like a stone. Taeyeon stuffed her hands in her coat pockets.
“I know I don’t get to be the hero or the savior – I’ve forfeited a long time ago. But I still care and I still have access, and if I can use to pry the door open and fix what I broke, I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”
Jessica didn't answer immediately. She watched the way Taeyeon’s hands were shoved deep into her pockets, the way her shoulders were hunched – the classic Taeyeon posture of someone trying to make themselves a smaller target for the world’s disappointment.
She took a step forward, finally breaking that distance. She reached out and grabbed the lapel of Taeyeon’s coat, tugging it. Not enough to be aggressive, but enough to force Taeyeon to look up.
“You’re a mess, Kim Taeyeon.”
Taeyeon snorted. “Don’t I know it,” she muttered.
Jessica sighed and stepped away again, and Taeyeon found herself missing the closeness already.
“Come on. There’s one last place I wanna show you.”
It made sense that they ended up at a mall, after all. Malls were practically Jessica Jung’s second homes. Her territory. The one place where she could express her other passion.
And there was something about watching Jessica navigate her way around a mall – powerful and confident. She knew her way around and she knew her targets.
Eventually, they ended up in front of a toy shop, and Taeyeon raised her brows in surprise. If Jessica was into toys, she wouldn’t think it was kids’ toys. She tilted her head up at the signage at the top of the shop and wondered what their journey here would mean.
“Once upon a time, a girl wanted to buy her little sister that stuffed penguin that she’d been begging for for a long time.” Jessica pointed at the signage. “She took her here, but before she could even spend her savings on that penguin, a scout from a Korean entertainment company came to them.”
Taeyeon’s eyes widened. She took a more careful look at the shop – it looked more modern than it probably used to be, and it stood the test of time, after all, probably not knowing that it witnessed a momentous occasion.
“Well,” she breathed. “Thank god Krystal wanted that penguin.”
Jessica laughed. “They wanted her at first. I think I was the consolation prize because she was too young.”
“You’re never a consolation prize,” Taeyeon replied, because Jessica could never be anything but at the top – Taeyeon was sure she’d been working her whole life to meet this woman.
Playing ignorance, the younger woman stepped closer to the window, her reflection ghosting over a display of Lego blocks. “It’s funny, isn’t it? A different aisle, a different day, and I would have been just another girl in San Francisco. Maybe I would have gone to Rhode Island or Parsons.”
“Why those two?”
“They’re the best fashion design schools in the country.”
Taeyeon’s fingers touched the display glass, still tinged with disbelief. A penguin. A child’s fleeting desire. This toy store. Everything that led up to them changing the DNA of girl groups in K-Pop.
She could picture it perfectly – two little Jung sisters, barely up to any adult’s knee, probably speaking in rapid English, Jessica counting crumpled bills while Krystal was maybe still nursing a pacifier. And then a stranger approaching, talking to them about becoming stars.
“Did you ever regret it?”
Jessica didn’t answer right away. The mall was beginning to fill as the evening approached, people getting off work or taking their families on shopping trips after work or simply getting dinner. Taeyeon wondered if these strangers knew who they were.
“Some days. Most days, no. But some days, yeah, I wonder what life would have been like if I’d just stayed here. Went to college. Became someone normal.”
“You could never be normal.”
“No? What would I be?”
“Extraordinary. Just in a different way.” Taeyeon considered this. “You would have been known to the world one way or another.” She clenched her jaw. “I can’t imagine a world where I never met you. I think the universe would have found another way to throw us into a room together.”
“Come on, the red string theory isn’t real.”
“For my own sanity, I have to believe it is.”
Jessica studied her for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. Then she smiled, small and crooked, like she didn’t quite believe Taeyeon but wanted to anyway.
And Taeyeon decided she didn’t have anything else to lose. Her career was basically indestructible at this point. Other than the occasional weed with Yuri, which she’d been cutting down after the woman reconciled with Tiffany, and the past she was still under an NDA for, everyone loved her.
She had a house – a few of them actually. Her family was there, though she still missed her father terribly. SM was clambering to keep her under its wing. She had it all – well, almost all.
And then last night, she booked a flight ticket on a whim and ended up here. Somehow, Jessica managed to find her amidst this gigantic city, even though it hadn’t even been her intention. That had to mean something.
That had to mean that she was believing in something true. That it wasn’t just a theory.
“You wanted the truth. Here’s the bravest, most transparent truth I can give you: I fell in love with you when I was 15 and I haven’t learned how to fall out.” Jessica’s eyes widened. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes that I regret in my life, including not looping you in on what the company was up to and voting you out, but I don’t regret loving you,” Taeyeon plowed on. “You are, at the same time, the best and worst thing that’s happened to me, and yet here I am, still trying to learn you.”
The mall hummed around them, a steady drone of commerce and footsteps that suddenly sounded like static. Jessica didn't move. She didn't even blink. Her hand, which had been hovering near the display, dropped to her side.
That sharp, untouchable, self-made fashion director was gone, replaced by a woman who looked like she had the oxygen ripped out of her lungs.
The words hung in the air between them like a confession whispered in a cathedral – sacred, terrifying, irreversible. Taeyeon didn’t allow herself the privilege of regretting those words either.
Then Jessica let out a shuddering breath. “You’re so selfish,” she whispered.
“I know.”
Jessica crossed the distance between them, but didn’t let them touch. “Say my name.”
“What?”
“Say. My. Name.”
Taeyeon frowned, not understanding the request, only to have it dawn on at the last moment. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “Sooyeon-ah,” she pronounced.
Jessica closed her eyes. The scent of her perfume was expensive and floral, clouding Taeyeon’s senses. She reached up, her fingers trembling as she cupped Taeyeon’s jaw. It was electric, more than two decades worth of suppressed history sparking at the contact.
Taeyeon stood still, afraid that if she moved, this would turn out to be a very nice dream. If it was, she didn’t want to wake up.
“If you’re working on opening that door, Taengoo –” Taeyeon gasped “– you better make sure that it stays open. I’m tired of being a ghost.”
Taeyeon breathed her in. “I’m not letting it close again. I promise.”
“Don’t promise,” Jessica whispered, her lips inches from Taeyeon’s. “Just stay.”