Archive of Our Own

Rui enjoys the flight back to Seoul, really.

Once his sister had cornered him, asking why he stayed despite his trainee dreams slipping through his fingers. He supposes he felt connected to the city, he was remade there over and over after all — though it wasn't in an image he particularly liked until his most recent rebirth.

He could go around the back to reach his apartment, rather than walking through his salon and having to sort through his overly obnoxious set of keys (fuck, it's even got a minuscule bottle of perfume attached to it, courtesy of Wumuti — not to mention the million other jingly things) to find the key to the shop, but part of him wants the grounding experience of smelling the faint scent of cleaning detergent used two weeks ago before he left.

It's home just as much as his childhood house is.

When he'd given up on his idol dreams, Rui had found himself pretty aimless. Dance, singing, music; they were his life, and now he had no idea how to seriously pursue them. Well, there were ways, but those were difficult and dragging. Rui's shattered self confidence shunned the idea of trying altogether, so he turned away from it all and retrained at a hairdresser.

That was his most recent rebirth. It had been roughly six years since then, and in his little corner of Seoul he'd scrapped together a life he cherished. Stage lights were a million miles away, and though that heartache found him again every once in a while, the salon, his friends, and his newfound ability to genuinely be herself more than soothed the ache.

She was a hairdresser, because it clicked when she tried it, and because to her it was art, too. Rui likes to think that point of view is exactly why she'd become somewhat of a local legend to all the colourful, vibrant, queer people in the area. It was why she had won the National Hairdressing Award for two years running.

She was a hairdresser, and she was doing extremely well for herself.

Rui has a roommate, yes, but it's not out of necessity. She's just close friends with Zhang Hao, and is more than willing to share her place with him to support him with his own dreams chasing music. Hao could do it, and Rui firmly believes that. He has the stick-at-it ability Rui feels she somewhat lacks.

But she doesn't struggle for bills at all, she's comfortable and wouldn't change anything for the world, even when her brain starts to crave a bit of novelty now and then. That's usually sated through a spot of retail therapy, or a fling, or a holiday somewhere new.

She stops in the middle of the floor for a minute, feeling genuinely excited to open up shop tomorrow.

Haru would be excited to see her again, having probably saved up a wealth of stories from bar-tending at the most interesting venue within a couple miles, and would manage to recount every single one of them while fielding three phone calls and booking several more appointments at once. Maybe he'll have actually made a move on that kid he has the most adorable puppy crush on, but Rui can only hope.

Wumuti is due a root touch up on her red hair, though she hasn't booked an appointment for that; Rui just knows.

Hao is probably upstairs, and if he isn't then he's teaching kids violin or finally, finally hooking up with the guy from the massage parlour down the block.

It's nice to be back, and it's nice to slot back into the workings of normal life. She was getting restless, and at last she could express that energy in more ways than hitting the city with his sister.

A shiver wracks her shoulders. She loves her life, and she can't wait to sleep in her own bed again.

As expected, Wumuti comes in the next day, just past noon. But, unexpectedly, it's not for a root touch up.

Rui had noticed it the second she had walked through the door, kitsch bell jingling in her wake, with perfectly red roots. It stopped her in her tracks for a brief second, before Rui registered Wumuti's arms opening for a warm hug and fell straight into it.

It calmed Rui's puzzlement, because there was nothing in the world quite like a hug from the person who helped her stand on her own two feet after her dreams crumbled in front of her.

"How was your trip home?" Wumuti asked through a grin, and it widened as Haru rounded the counter to get a hug too, eyes pressing into joyous half moons as she pet his hair.

"Same old, you know," replied Rui, because Wumuti would know, she got the run down about everything in Rui's life. Wumuti hummed, and pressed a kiss to Haru's temple before sending him back to the counter with the assurance she'd be back later. Rui's heart squeezed, Haru had ended up in a similar predicament to herself; free falling hundreds of miles from home, too attached to go back, and living with Wumuti, at least for now. The difference was that Haru was determined to make dancing his life despite it all.

"Did you do your roots on your own for once?" She asked as Wumuti slid into the seat in front of her, trying to keep her tone even. Wumuti froze.

The colour looked too good to be box dye, so she definitely hadn't, but Rui felt the need to soft launch the interrogation into Wumuti's faithfulness rather than going in guns blazing.

Unfortunately, Rui came with subtitles. She met Wumuti's eyes in the mirror in front of them, and it was obvious her face had given the game away because Wumuti looked very guilty. Rui almost felt bad for asking, she'd never seen that expression on Wumuti's face before, but at the same time…

Excuse her, but she's the best damn hairdresser in the city! How dare Wumuti take her business elsewhere! It's an absolute betrayal, Rui would rather Wumuti box dyed her hair than go anywhere else ever again, and that's an incredible opinion for Rui to hold because box dye is evil.

"No…" Never before has Wumuti looked so much like a cornered bunny.

"Oh," Rui says airily, a smile splaying out on her perfectly painted lips, "then why on earth are you here, Muti?"

"For a trim?" She says hopefully. Haru snickers from behind the counter and pretends to work when Wumuti snaps her head around at the sound.

"Hmph," it's really not that big of a deal (it kind of is but like, it's not friendship ruining, but ouch, she really couldn't have waited for Rui?) but Rui huffs anyways, teasing, "and you couldn't have gone to your other hairdresser for it? They can't be that incompetent if you trusted them with bleach near your scalp."

Rui pulls the thin black cape around Wumuti's shoulders marginally less gently than she usually would.

"It was a moment of weakness, ok? I was desperate."

"I want a divorce." Rui states firmly, but takes out her scissors nonetheless. "Who's the other woman, anyways?"

Her faux snide tone pulls a giggle from Wumuti, and it makes her smile. It reminds her of the time they went to a home furniture store to role play a divorcing couple to work out their issues as roommates instead of talking to each other like normal people. Wumuti had started it, all too knowing that Rui hated, still hates, talking about her issues directly.

"Ah, just another salon a little while that way," Wumuti says, jamming her thumb in the rough direction. Rui clicks her tongue, because Wumuti is being purposefully vague.

"Just another salon? Really? Another salon that's up to your standards?" Snip, snip, snip. Wumuti's hair falls through Rui's fingers, delightfully soft despite years of being fried with bleach and dye. It brings Rui a sense of pride, it was her hair care recommendations that kept it that way. "How did you even find them?"

"From work." Vague again.

"Hm." She's not going to get more out of Wumuti if she's this insistent on protecting this other hairdresser from Rui's passive aggressive wrath. Rui makes sure Wumuti's beautiful layers fall softly, taking off enough weight for them to curl ever so slightly and bring life to her hair.

It takes twenty minutes at most to actually trim her hair, but it's mostly because Rui is feeling chatty, asking after Haru's love life because she couldn't get the boy to talk if she tried — somewhat valid, Rui can't help but fuss over Haru and pinch his cheeks whenever he does something cute like crush hopelessly on a guy that's actually worth his attention — and Wumuti's progress on his self produced songs.

Rui learns that Haru's frankly adorable crush invited him to watch his dance competition and Haru had come home with stars in his eyes about it, gushing that he managed to ask him to teach him some moves, and that Wumuti was struggling with some lyrics and had started obsessively scouring poetry books looking for the right words.

It was sad to see Wumuti go when Rui had finally finished, having spent an extra five minutes aimlessly playing with Wumuti's hair and an extra ten styling it nicely, free of charge.

Rui leaned back against the counter, where Haru was trying to fuse with the screen as he willed his ears to stop being so red after having to overhear his elders cooing over him.

"Haru," Rui crooned, spinning around and slumping onto her forearms to give her back a slight break, consciously bending her knees to stop them locking up, "where did Wumuti go for her roots?"

She was going to get answers, she's determined to, and she's an unstoppable force in most cases.

Haru gives her a withering look, which backfires horribly when Rui coos so loud Yujin (a kid she's training, referred to her by Hao) and his client, and Aito (another kid she's training, referred to her by Wumuti from a guy called Kenny who suggested both Haru and Aito could use a friend who spoke the same language) and his client, too, all turn around to see what was happening.

Rui bends all the way over the counter to pinch Haru's cheek, which he dodges easily.

"If I tell you will you quit doing that?"

"That's no way to talk to your elders!" Rui goes in for another attempted pinching.

"If I tell you will you quit doing that, Rui?"

"You hate me. You hate me and you wish I was dead."

"Jiejie," Haru implores, rolling his eyes so hard his head moves with them, and Rui can't help the way her heart feels like it's going to implode. She loves her didi so much.

Rui bites her bottom lip hard to keep such big feelings on the inside, metaphorically sitting on her hands, but her lip slips through her teeth at her uncontrollable smile. Haru sighs, resigning to the informal agreement when Rui doesn't reach out to pinch.

"There's a salon, like, five blocks over. It's called Scent," Haru takes in the puzzled look on Rui's face. "Have you seriously never heard of it? It got super popular when you were away; some new guy started running it."

When Rui thinks about it hard enough, she's pretty sure she has heard of it, but in the distant past, and what she heard hadn't been nice at all. For Wumuti to go there of all places must mean the new owner must work actual miracles.

The turn around time on that salon is unbelievably awesome, and also a major headache. It's competition. Rui chews her lip again.

"Thank you," she sing-songs, stroking Haru's hair. She'll buy him dinner before his shift down at the bar for being so sweet — he's saving for university, so let him keep his money.

Rui manages to toss the takeaway bag into Haru's arms as he exits the salon, shouting goodbyes until the boy is out of sight as he walks to the bus stop. Hopefully he'll be able to choke it down before his shift starts. Rui worries that he's overworked sometimes.

The lights are still on in the salon, but Rui has flipped the neon 'OPEN' sign over to 'CLOSED' and sent Yujin and Aito home.

She sighs, having forgotten to really breathe today. Her employees, apprentices, really, are so young and though they're very capable (else she wouldn't keep them around) she still frets and guides. It's slightly draining but she would rather give them the opportunity to grow than not teach them at all.

It gives her good practice for the occasional educational visit she pays to the course they're attending as part of their apprenticeship, however, she thinks as she sweeps the floor. She's got one of said visits lined up tomorrow, too.

She's fairly certain her position as once-in-a-while teacher is a conflict of interest with her status as their employer, but if she doesn't say anything then she can still see her beloved little fledglings five days a week.

But that salon… Rui pauses, leaning hard on the broom handle. She should probably check it out. Online at least.

She rests the broom against one of the high chairs, pleather slightly cracked with use — which is a subtle achievement for now and an aesthetic problem for later — and flops into Haru's chair behind the counter to boot up the computer.

It whirrs and hums and finally starts, and Rui manages to remember the password despite being the person who, she guiltily admits, uses it the least. The computer can't keep up with the speed of her clicking, she thinks too fast for its loading time, but eventually she pulls up their website.

It's definitely gotten an overhaul since the last time she checked it three, maybe four years ago.

Reviews; a fountain of five star anecdotes, and anything below three stars is so dated it's irrelevant. Rui grits her teeth slightly.

Social media turns up similar results.

There's another hair salon offering alternative, out-there haircuts and dyes and styles and they're seemingly of the same calibre as Rui's. She can't even say they're over-hyped as she scrolls through the Instagram page that manages to look amazing and like the epitome of 'graphic design is my passion' all at once.

It's quirky, it's cute, it's undeniably skilful.

And the National Hairdressing awards are right around the corner.

Fuck.

The awards are something she has to force out of her mind the next day on her way to the university. Rui focuses on the trees and the spring green their leaves are, and the way it's light outside despite it being half past seven in the morning. There's an unbelievably sweet coffee in her hands, and losing a single award isn't the end of the world.

(But it is, a heavy voice in her head tells her.)

The university isn't prestigious by any means, in fact it's thought of as the local rejects' university where the less successful go to attempt a qualification. Rui hates that opinion with a fiery passion, and hates the way people look down on the young people who actually try to try again instead of laying flat and letting their failings rule their lives. Rui loves the course she supplements, and loves the kids trying their best to struggle through life.

It does look a little shabby, but Rui thinks that's part of the charm. The building and its less than new stucco exterior exude a kind of welcoming energy that Rui finds easy to sink into. It's warm, unlike the atmosphere she was embroiled in when she was still a trainee.

The kids (though really, she's not that much older than them, but they're adorable the same way little chicks are when they stumble around not knowing what to do) perk up as she sashays through the door, duffel bag of equipment in hand. Aito shies away from Rui's energetic wave, while Yujin returns it politely.

There's someone unexpected in the room.

There's a man, tall, blonde, tan, (and handsome, Rui's mind helpfully supplements) and standing at the front of the practice room. He looks exceptionally well groomed, hair in a side part that falls nice and asymmetrically across his forehead leaving a perfect gap on the left side that shows off his blemish free skin. It's kind of basic, but it looks unbelievably good, and had to have taken a lot of preening.

He regards Rui, but his face is void of expression. Readable expression anyway, he's looking at Rui very intensely. He doesn't have an issue with Rui and the somewhat eccentric way she dressed, did he?

"Hi," Rui chirrups, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and sticking her hand out for a shake. "I'm Chen Kuanjui, but you can just call me Rui, okay? What are you doing here? I don't think we've met before."

The man breaks away from her gaze, and hesitantly takes her hand. It's gentle, and his hands are soft. Rui takes note of the short, vibrant nails that contrast the drab colours of the washed jeans and oversized button up that neatly sticks out from beneath a thin looking crew-neck. "Hyun."

Hyun's face doesn't shift an inch, which is unusual because people tend to match her energy nowadays.

"I'm here to assist the class." His voice is scratchy, like he'd been shouting for far too long, and kind of monotonous. Judging by the nails, he probably didn't have an issue with what Rui was, but she couldn't say that him having a problem with her in general was off the table. The vibes were off.

"Oh, me too! Where are you from?" Rui asks, attempting to shift the mood to something more engaging.

"Gwangju."

"Ah, cool," and not really what Rui meant. "Where do you work?" She clarifies.

"In a hair salon," he replies. There seems to be no malice in the way he manages to miss the point twice, so Rui lets the question hang in silence for a moment longer, so that, hopefully, Hyun fills it. "Scent."

Rui's eye twitches. The enemy. The enemy who is still staring at her too intensely.

"I see, I run a salon a couple blocks away. Dirty Baby, heard of it?" Hyun's eyes widened, but his expression still doesn't change.

"Mn, yeah."

It's frustrating that Hyun is so attractive because Rui is certain he hates her, somehow vexed just by her existence. He probably sees her as competition, too. That's so sad, Rui has been single for far too long, but she has a sudden strict policy about not fraternising with the enemy.

In semi-uncomfortable silence, they prepared for a lesson on hair products.

Somehow, out of an unspoken agreement, Rui led the presentation and demonstration as she usually would, while Hyun observed closely. Strange, Rui thought as she worked hair mousse through the hair of a student volunteer, she thought Hyun would've been more… domineering? He would have to be to save a failing business, but maybe he did respect Rui enough to not encroach. Just not enough to play particularly nice.

The demonstration was over quite quickly, maybe too quickly, she worried.

"Did everyone see?" She called out to the classroom, and received a couple nods for her trouble, but far less than usual. There was a near tangible energy that suggested most of their attention was directed towards the new comer.

"Maybe you should try a demonstration on short hair?" Hyun suggests, pointedly, from his spot to Rui's right. "Not everyone has long hair. Point out when not to use mousse, too."

No wonder the university reached out to this guy, his gaze and tone are grading. Not grating. Grading. Rui feels like he's back doing his training again, and it's not pleasant. But he's right, which is worse.

"You're right," Rui says, grudgingly. "Any volunteers?"

She's hoping Hyun steps up, just to subject him to the full force of thirty-something pairs of eyes watching him like a hawk. That's what Rui hated most when she first started this mentoring; it got a bit too close to the then unhealed wounds of her trainee days, but Hyun didn't seem the type to want much attention either. Not unwavering attention, at least.

But Hyun doesn't step up, just nods in not-warm approval. Maybe Rui is expecting too much from a stranger.

Rui picks on Yujin instead, because she doesn't mind doing that or getting an earful from Hao about bullying his darling child. Hao is about as threatening as a house cat. It's actually quite calming, expertly carding her hands through Yujin's hair, and she realises exactly how uptight she feels.

"I'll take half the class to observe, you take the other half," is all Hyun says once Rui finishes (a small lecture about when is appropriate to use such products included in the demonstration) and then he rounds up the left side of the room, and walks off. He doesn't even give Rui the chance to protest, she wouldn't because she would have done the exact same thing, but it's the principle of it all.

He's jarring. Too serious. Kind of cold. It would be kind of hot if he were slightly friendlier.

Rui slots nicely into her little cohort, they listen attentively and joke amongst themselves and it just makes Rui happy. Happy enough she forgets about Hyun on the other side of the room until she feels a tingle on her back and turns around to see him staring at her. His face isn't as stony as it was ten minutes ago, but it's definitely no smile.

Hyun turns around, unabashed by being caught staring. Weird. Rui takes it as an invitation to watch him work.

He's good, really good, patiently demonstrating as many times as his students ask him to. He doesn't smile or joke with them, but Rui can tell when he dishes out praise because the kids around him light up. It's sweet, she guesses.

Hyun looks up at the light fixture above him and his face scrunches a little. It's a bog standard panel light, two long filaments, if a little flickery. What did the light ever do to him? Or was he just not a fan of teens and hiding it well? Why bother saying yes to the university's offer then…

A girl, one Yujin chats with fairly often, has managed to seriously fuck up someone's hair in the time Rui hasn't been paying attention. It's Rui's fault, but every failure is a learning opportunity in her book, so she teaches her how to come back from a bad mousse job.

Hyun's evaluative gaze is on Rui when she looks up. If he has a problem with her methods, he can shove it. Rui clicks her tongue, he probably thinks she's some ditzy twink, but he can think whatever. It doesn't matter.

(But it does matter, and she really, really hates the way he's staring. She should be better at her job in front of a complete stranger.)

There's a writing exercise to finish off, which, thankfully, is one the usual lecturer has to deal with and not Rui.

Rui packs up as the class scribbles away, but she's interrupted by firm footfall and a tap on the shoulder. Does someone need help? Agh, if they weren't sure of something they should've said so earlier—

It's Hyun.

"Yes?" Rui asks.

There's glasses perched on his nose, and his phone is on and in his hand, he pushes them up his nose bridge with a slight finger, which is hot— shut up.

"Something's come up, I've got to go. Thank you for having me. You're very good at your job," he says, tone still somewhat monotonous, but the compliment makes Rui's head swim. What? He seems like he means it but also, what?

"Thanks for coming? Will I be seeing you again soon?" Rui doesn't mean to sound so uncertain, but Hyun has confused her terribly.

"Mn," he nods his head, so helpful, "bye."

He slings his bag on and walks out without glancing back.

Rui hates him a little less. Kind of.

Rui has never hated anyone more in her life.

This kid, Kim Jongseob, and his friend, Haku Shota, have been coming to her salon for years at this point, right? So someone tell her why Shota has bleached hair and blue tips, because Rui did not do those.

It's Jongseob that's come to see her today, and Shota — the adorable, adorkable, dance prodigy object of Haru's affections — is lingering around the counter distracting Haru from his work. Rui lets this slide every time, because she has a heart. They're nerding out together, on each other's wavelength, and Haru has the biggest smile on his lips that Rui hasn't seen in weeks. It's dopey. It's cute!

It's also kind of sad, because last night (and post-rant to Wumuti about her new coworker) it was revealed to her over text that Haru absolutely wouldn't make a move, convinced Shota is dating Jongseob. Wumuti disagrees, and despite years of seeing them rock up to her hair salon together, Rui also disagrees.

She should stop staring.

Rui turns her focus back to Jongseob, who's bleaching his hair yet again. A sly thought pops into her head.

"Jongseob," the boy's head pops up at his name, it's cute, and if Haru manages to up his game Rui would happily accept him and Shota as his little in-laws. "Where did your boyfriend get his hair done?"

It's almost bar for bar with what she cornered Wumuti with two days ago. Sue her, it's an effective method!

"Boyfriend?" The confused quirk of Jongseob's brow says everything, and he turns around to look at Shota. "What, Shota?"

"Yeah…?" Rui baits him along, wanting to hear it in words.

"He's not… we're not… Look, I like him but we're best friends, that's it. Not that I think he's not a catch, he's just…" Jongseob stares at Haru.

"Not your catch?" Rui finishes for him, trying not to sound too happy that they're single.

"Yeah, that."

Rui hums, then starts with the bleach. "But seriously, where did he get his hair done? Did you do it? It's good."

Jongseob tenses under Rui's hand, and as she grips his hair, it feels a bit like she's holding a fish she's caught.

"Um…"

"Why is everyone cheating on me! Two weeks is not that long for me to be gone! Tell me where so I can throw a brick through their window," Rui bemoans, releasing her grip on Jongseob's hair. Jongseob huffs out a laugh like Rui's joking. She's only half joking.

"Scent."

"Tell your boyfriend I won't let him flirt with my darling little receptionist if he ever takes his business elsewhere again." It's an empty threat because Rui would never deprive Haru of Shota and his funny ways, but she says it gravely enough that Jongseob glances at the pair through the mirror in front of him and seems to seriously consider it.

"Yep, got it."

"Wonderful!"

The best part about bleaching Jongseob's hair is the time it gives her to quietly observe Haru and Shota when Jongseob tires of talking and goes back to scrolling reels on his phone (iPad baby). It's nice they have each other, the same way Haru has Aito, but Shota is fundamentally different to Aito. Shota is the same type of strange as Haru, though he presents it slightly differently.

Haru and gender have a funny relationship, which is something Shota reflects. Haru is a bit of a nerd, and so is Shota. They dance. It's cute they have each other, because Rui was far too scared to have a crush when he was Haru's age.

Shota has lost some of Rui's favour for seeing a different hairdresser, however. What stings more is the fact that the job they, Hyun, did is so good.

Rui won't have any customers left at this rate, she thinks to herself.

She washes the bleach from Jongseob's hair out, and sends him on his way, holding him to his hair care routine under the threat of death (he's a regular, not a stranger, she can do that) with Shota to hold him accountable.

And, by proxy, Haru, who can now remind Shota to remind Jongseob because after Rui hurriedly whispered that Jongseob and Shota being a thing was a total misconception, he finally asked for Shota's number. And it was given with incredible enthusiasm! So sweet!

The thought that she might be out of a job soon haunts her from the second the pair leave until she's sending Haru home with a fist bump and closing up shop. Her smile melts off her face as it sets in that she could very well be replaced.

She grits her teeth at the ugly feeling welling up inside her chest. She was replaceable in everything she was skilled at and it stung.

She wasn't good enough at dancing, or singing, and now she won't be good enough at cutting hair. It's the only thing she's felt accomplished in for years. This is Hyun's fault.

A scowl makes its way onto her face as she completes her ritual evening sweep. There's a bitter taste on her tongue and a voice in her head telling her she'll never be enough for anybody, and while she tries to fight it with all the evidence to the contrary (the many awards on the shelf behind the counter, not just the National Hairdressing Awards, but some local competitions too, and a completely fabricated employer of the year award Haru, Yujin, and Aito made in the past winter, as well as her many close friends and clientele who adored her) but it was overwhelming. Totally and utterly overwhelming.

The internal fight made her feel crazy, not helped by the way the voice was definitely winning. What was she going to do with her life if her business went under? How on god's green earth was she going to cope if her plan C didn't work out? This felt like her last shot at life as a creative, she can't lose it. She just can't.

She has to tell someone about this, she has to get these feeling out.

The broom goes back where it belongs, and Rui doesn't even look when she slaps the light switch on her way out. She climbs up the inside stairs to the apartment, the grey-green carpeting she never bothered removing once she'd moved in worn in the middle of every step until she reaches the door and taps in the code to get in wrong two times before succeeding.

Hao should be here if Rui remembers right. He doesn't have a tutoring session right now, and he doesn't have any recitals either. Rui has someone she can rant and rave at in the sharpness of her own tongue tonight.

Or so she thinks, because when she walks into the living room, Hao has his tongue down the throat of the guy from the massage clinic just down the road, Sung Hanbin. God damn it. Rui really hates gay people right now, regardless of how hypocritical that statement is.

Whatever.

Hao breaks the kiss when he notices Rui staring with what's probably a slight grimace, "hey, are you okay?"

Hanbin looks up, too, and Rui really does understand why Hao calls him a hamster. His eyes are dark and sparkling, and kind of fearful.

"[Just peachy,]" she returns in Chinese, purposefully excluding Hanbin. Call her salty, but she feels distinctly single right now and it's not helping the mounting internal crisis of self worth.

"[Are you sure?]" Hao asks carefully as Rui crosses the room. "[You don't sound it…]"

"Go back to kissing your boyfriend," Rui returns in Korean, purposefully to fuck with Hanbin, then she goes back to Chinese — though it's softer this time: "[I'll tell you later, I'm going out tonight. I'll be back before I open up tomorrow at the latest.]"

"[Ah, okay. Be careful, alright?]" Even when she's being kind of bitchy he's still kind, thank god he's her roommate of all people. She nods.

Rui changes out of her work clothes into something bar-worthy. An off the shoulder shirt that has a slight shimmer in the fabric and sleeves that flare and pool sweetly at her wrists and dark wash jeans she'd torn up and put back together again in an exaggerated boot-cut. Two necklaces and a spritz of perfume later, she was ready to go. She can deal with the clothes on the floor later.

Hanbin and Hao have switched places when she walks back through the living room, and it feels like she shouldn't be seeing any of this as she bustles about shoving her emergency obnoxious keys into a small shoulder bag, but they don't bother to stop or even acknowledge her. She still says goodbye, despite the fact Hao's mouth is too busy to give her an answer.

The bus to Haru's second job is fucking rammed because it's just gone rush hour, and she spends the whole twenty minutes standing; something that's starting to hurt considering she does that at her job literally all day. It's not doing her mental health any good, so just just tries to hold it together until her stop, closing her eyes and pretending she's on a nice beach somewhere or something mindful like that.

It's heaven when she steps off, it's heaven when the slight breeze cools her off as she walks with significant speed towards the music-performance bar venue thing Haru scored a job at. It was in no small part thanks to Wumuti doing drag nights there, nepotism trumps all, Rui has learned, but Haru was still skilled in his own right.

It's still hilarious to Rui that they let her meimei bartend, he looks like he should be ID'd himself for every drink he has to make, but that in itself is quite charming. Though it is less charming when people who aren't Rui or Wumuti pester him about it — curse the general public.

She slips through the pretty glass doors and wanders through the currently deserted foyer towards the bar. There's something about spaces like this, ones that are meant to be busy but are vacant instead, that Rui really likes — it feels like she can be in public without being examined at every turn.

The bar Haru works at is at the back of the hall, opposite to the stage, unlike the other one in the foyer that's a big circle, Haru's bar is a straight counter with no seats. There's no one here, or at least no one here that would care enough to stop her, so Rui drags a bar stool from the foyer bar to Haru's bar.

She chucks her bag onto the table and waits. The sound of the stage crew fill the silence, and a few of them look at her, but no one approaches which is nice because she's starting to feel volatile again. Absently she wonders what the crew are preparing for, then she wonders if it's really okay for her to be crying to Haru about her existential issues. That's her didi, her meimei, her darling little receptionist, emphasis on little.

Rui is knocked out of her thoughts by Haru sticking a blue shot in front of her.

"You look a little blue, what happened?" And that's why she complains to Haru so much, for all his youth he's good at reading her, good at comforting her, though he doesn't try to fix her problems when he can't. And also he's not Wumuti, who cheated on her with Hyun of all people.

Rui sighs, knocks back the shot, and confesses.

"Am I fucking crazy, didi?" She finishes with, head in her hands as Haru keeps polishing the glass he's been polishing the entire time.

"Yeah, a little bit." At least he's honest. "You know, Shota used to stare at me like that a lot when we first met…" Haru leads on with trying to encourage Rui to think from a different perspective. It's hard to do, because of the overwhelming nature of Rui's fears, but the thought that Hyun was acting weird because he liked her was butterfly inducing. But that was ridiculous and she was probably exaggerating the meaning behind his compliment because she wanted that to be true, because she thought he was hot.

"You said he was glaring at the light right? The flickering one?"

"Mm," Rui hums and nudges her shot glass back to Haru, who looks at it with an extreme level of consideration before pouring another shot.

"Maybe he's a bit like you?" Haru suggests. "A bit like Shota?"

"No, he hates me and wants my business and all my awards including the one from you."

"Even the Jiejie of the century award?"

"Yeah, that one too but he'll have to kill me to get it." If Hyun snatches Haru away from her, she's going to end up on the news again and it won't be for anything positive. Rui takes the shot.

Haru sighs deeply. "Have you submitted for the National Awards yet?"

"…No." She's been meaning to, she really has. Guilt over its neglect curdles in her stomach. More alcohol would make it worse, but part of her wants that. She nudges the glass back to Haru, who takes it and replaces it with a glass of something less concentrated. She takes a sip, coconut rum and lemonade, syrupy sweet.

"Maybe do that, then you'll feel less insane. Prove you're good to yourself, you know?"

"That's not ridiculous to say," Rui yields. This is why she talks to Haru about her problems. Sometimes she feels more like Haru's meimei than Haru's jiejie, it's one of the peculiar realities of their friendship, the other is the six year age gap. People are filtering in, but this time she doesn't mind it. They can think whatever they like. She doesn't care about them.

"Do you want to talk to Ma— Muti about it?" It's cute each and every time Haru nearly calls Wumuti 'mama,' it's never gotten old.

"Probably."

"Well, it's drag night so she should be around back." Rui grimaces at Haru's suggestion, and the expression is mirrored.

Wumuti runs her backstage like the fucking navy, no thanks, Rui is not about to bother her. "There's easier ways of killing myself."

She meant to think what she said, and say what she thought. Haru looks at her with concern twisting his brows, which combined with the eyeliner he has on, makes him look extremely pitiable. Like a wide-eyed mouse.

"Not that I'm going to, you know," Rui consoles him, waving her hand emphatically. "Another drink, bar-boy. Bar-they?"

Haru looks exasperated, "it would be your fourth drink in forty minutes…"

"I'll be fine." Rui has no idea if she really will be, but Haru doesn't have to know.

"Last one, you're not getting anymore after. Not for a while, anyway. You do know you are paying for all of them, right?"

Rui pouts at him. Haru's mouth twists in a frown as he tries to resist. It's ineffective, and he slumps. "Fine, I'll use my employee discount."

"I love you," Rui drawls through a smile.

The show starts when Rui is suitably straddling the border between tipsy and drunk, something Haru has absolutely caught onto, judging by the big clear cup of water in her hands right now. The lights look warmer, sparklier; everything looks a million times more colourful. It's a sensory wonder, and there's a joy bubbling up in Rui's chest.

Drinking in the company of her didi was the right call, and to think she can talk to Wumuti soon enough! She loves her friends so much, they make it all better.

The best song she's ever heard thrums through the speakers, rattling her to the core, and Rui watches from the back of the venue as a queen — tall, blond, and gorgeous — walks out. Rui decides right then and there that that's the only woman she'd ever anything. She's that hot.

Her hair is so long and golden and perfectly styled that Rui would be inclined to think it was real if she were any further gone. The crimping gives it incredible volume and shape but doesn't ruin the wig texture, and the shade is just right for the queen's honey skin. There's an air of incredible joy in every step she takes in her several inch tall heels that add to her obviously tall natural height.

The make up is incredible, the outfit is incredible (so bright! So cute!), her voice is incredible. Just speaking it feels like sunshine inside, loud and energetic and warm. It lilts and warbles with words Rui can't make out through the spinning that's starting to take over her head.

But singing. Oh, god. Usually they just lip sync, the only queen he knew so far that didn't was Wumuti, but thank literally everyone involved in creating this beautiful stranger, from their great great grandparents to the doctor that delivered them; their singing is angelic.

They look a little familiar, to be honest. Which is weird, but probably nothing. Rui has selective face blindness on the best of days.

It's a beautiful half hour watching them on stage, and now she wishes she had ditched her spot at the bar for one of the seats at the tables that had been set up in front of the stage while she was whining to Haru. They do little skits, funny and playing up an adorably dense persona. Rui falls for it all, laughing at every joke.

It's only when they take their bows and exit stage left, and Rui follows them with her eyes the whole way, that she notices Haru staring at her with pursed lips.

"What's with that face?" Rui asks, batting her lashes and turning to lounge against the bar. She lets her back arch, enjoying the slight scratch of her shirt and the feeling of some of her spine clicking.

"Nothing…"

"Sure," Rui slurs, she could talk normally if she wanted to, but she can't be bothered. "What's her name?"

Haru pauses, looking indecisive, before settling on: "Bunny."

"Mmm, cute. I want her."

"I thought you said you hated…" Haru mumbled.

"What did you say, meimei?"

"Nevermind it's nothing."

Rui shrugs and turns back around in time for Wumuti's bombastic stage. It's hot, it's in your face, it's cunt. Rui thoroughly enjoys every song, whooping and cheering by the end. Wumuti looks good in red leather and sweat.

It takes a few minutes, but Wumuti slides into the spot next to Rui's stool, still in red leather and sweat but with a couple bills tucked under the perfect fur belt thing — half of Wumuti's clothes don't make total sense, that's part of the allure — around her waist and between her pointed, wine red claws.

"Mama, she's gone off the deep end," Haru says, passing Wumuti a glass of her favourite wine that's definitely overfilled. Tch, favouritism much.

"It's literally fine," Rui protests.

"She wants Hyun dead."

"Okay, well, I didn't go that far."

"But you came all the way out here for company, so it's pretty bad," Wumuti correctly infers.

Why did Haru say Hyun's name like he and Wumuti knew him? Well, Wumuti would, but on a first name basis? Really? That's fishy.

"It was some Perfect Blue fear of replacement level stuff." Wumuti's brows crease at Haru's description. That's definitely some movie-buff thing, because whatever that means is lost on Rui.

Wumuti turns to Rui, places a warm hand on her shoulder, and frowns with all the love in her heart.

"Rui, no one can replace you. Ever." Rui can tell Wumuti has only just started her speech, but there's already a sting of tears in her eyes. She tries to believe her, but for some reason it's kind of hard. "You are so skilled, so creative, and people will still choose you even when there are other options."

"You chose someone else," Rui pouts, turning away. She doesn't want to see the look of heartbreak on Wumuti's face that she knows will be there. It feels mean to hold it against her, and she slumps in her seat.

"I know, I did, and it really hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm not going to do that again. I'll always choose you from now on, my precious hair stylist." Maybe it's unrealistic, but it's exactly what Rui needed to hear. She sniffles, and Wumuti pulls her in for a hug.

"It must've been really dire for you to go somewhere else," Rui mumbles into her bare shoulder, and Wumuti pulls away with a chuckle to answer.

"Mm, yeah."

"Were you gonna fuck the president or something?" Rui asks, still slightly tearful. Haru snorts out the water he was nursing and crumples to the floor, and Wumuti laughs so hard she folds over, one hand on Rui's shoulder and the other on the bar to keep herself upright.

"No, no. My ex was back in town," Wumuti says, then lets out the ugliest, most authentic snort at the look of absolute disgust on Rui's face. Rui really does come with subtitles, but it's only with the help of alcohol that she can really feel them.

"I take it all back, thank god you got your hair done." The 'fuck that guy' goes unsaid. Rui is a chronic boyfriend judger, and a terminal ex-boyfriend hater. All sins are forgiven in this new light. Except Shota's, he's still on thin ice.

"But about your business?"

"I told her she should work towards being the number one hairdresser in Korea for the third year in a row already," Haru interjects, popping back up from behind the bar.

"Have you considered scoping out the competition then?" Wumuti suggests. That feels sneaky, but Rui's morals are a little flexible in places.

"What are you suggesting?" Rui coaxes, so she can blame any spinelessness on Wumuti instead.

"Go to Hyun's place and get your hair done!" Haru excitedly demands, both hands on the bar as he leans over, a sparkle in his eyes. "Ask for Hyun specifically!"

Wumuti looks at Haru appraisingly, finding something about his scheming that pleases her. That should be a bright red warning sign. Rui bypasses it anyway.

"Yeah, do that," Wumuti agrees, then reaches across the bar to cup Haru's face, purring and scratching his chin and calling him clever. Haru soaks it up like a thirsty plant, and the sight makes Rui's heart throb. She's so lucky to have a little family like this.

"Fine! Another drink!" Rui shouts, teeth out in a wide smile.

Haru sighs and shrugs, probably dubbing Rui supervised enough now that Wumuti is around.

Things start to blur after that, but Rui distinctly remembers blond hair and tan skin and perfume hot enough to drown in.

Predictably, Rui wakes up with a throbbing headache. At the very least, there's a warm, cute Haru cuddled up against her stomach. That makes things feel a bit less grating. What wonders the power of cute didi's can do.

Haru has commandeered one of Rui's shirts, but he's wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms he left at Rui's place a long time ago. Rui, by contrast, is still in last night's clothes — minus the jeans.

The shirt is itchy. Far too itchy. She has to get out of this thing or she's going to die.

Regrettably this involves moving Haru off her stomach so she can sit up. This hurts her head enough, but it's better than waking him up trying to shuck it off laying down, and it's worth it to hear a sweet little huff as he settles into his new spot.

Sitting up is worse, her stomach doesn't turn, per-say, but it sure as hell doesn't feel good. Her ears are ringing slightly, and things are spinning without really spinning. Rui winces, decides to really commit to comfort, and gets up altogether.

It takes a moment of adjusting to being upright but she makes it to her dresser and pulls out the second comfiest shirt she owns — some thoroughly abused NCT unofficial merch, neckline chopped off years ago — because Haru currently has the most comfy.

She puts it on, and goes straight back to bed, not even bothering to check the time.

The sound of Haru's alarm, the world's most aggravating pop song, wakes Rui up next. Haru nearly takes her eye out trying to turn it off, but if Rui's being honest, she wouldn't have minded if he had as it would have been for a worthy cause.

Breakfast happens, courtesy of Sung Hanbin who is somehow still in Rui's apartment. Hao must really like him if he's letting him stay this long, she thinks as he slides a fried egg sandwich her way. She likes him, he can stay, she decides.

She pops some painkillers and gets filled in on the fact that Haru had to chaperone her home last night. Mildly embarrassing, sure, but it's definitely not the first — or probably last — time that will ever happen. She promises Haru lunch again, because that's the least he deserves for shepherding her around. But it feels like there's something he's not telling her.

Rui asks about Bunny, the drag queen who had and still has her by the throat, and Haru seems to avoid the topic. Odd.

But apparently Haru (and the rest of her lovely employees! They have a group chat! So cute!) has decided that Rui absolutely has to uphold her end of the agreement she made last night. It's a weekday, but at nine o'clock she's being forced out of her own salon by three nineteen-to-twenty year olds.

It's mutiny, she yells as she walks backwards down the street, but really she's mostly okay with leaving them in charge. In her honest opinion, they're so much more competent at their jobs than most other hairdressers. Rui can deal with the consequences of this decision if and when they happen.

The bus ride to Scent is seven minutes exactly, yes she has been counting, it's field research, and it's exceedingly easy to find. The outside looks like a gay night club and a hair salon had an even gayer baby. Damn. That fucks.

Currently, it looks deserted, but that could change at any minute. Maybe she should've booked an appointment or something, they seem like they would be organised like that if the clean lines of their design work said anything.

There's no chime on the door when she steps in, but the guy at the desk looks up anyway. Rui feels like she should've practiced what to say on the way over instead of getting distracted by the other shops and services lining the streets on the way here. To be fair, that was market research, and this was something she could wing. She's hot, she can get away with it.

"Hey," Rui drawls, "good morning. Do you need appointments for this place or do you take walk-ins?"

Awesome, despite the headache that's returning with a vengeance because of the lighting, she can still be a perfectly normal person.

"Oh, we do walk-ins, don't worry. It's quiet right now and," the guy, Haruto if the little sticker on the back of his laptop said anything, dragged the syllable out as he checked his screen. "Yeah, it's gonna be quiet for a while. You thinking of anything in particular? Wash? Style? Dye?"

"Mmm," this would be an insanely good opportunity to try out something she's been too scared to try on herself for a while now. "There's this dye job I've been wanting."

"Let me see who's available."

"Is Hyun available?" Haruto looks up at this, looking equal parts surprised and equal parts annoyed.

"Let me check," he states. It's not even half past nine but the coffee cup on his desk, which really resembles a gallon jug more than a cup, is already half empty. "Yeah, in like, ten minutes. Can you wait that long?"

It feels like a jab. Maybe it's a bit of a jab. Rui can let it slide, she's too hungover to fight.

"Yeah."

"'Kay, there's some seats over there, feel free. What's your name?"

"Rui," then she corrects herself, "Chen Kuanjui."

"Huh." He ejects, less out of confusion and more in shock. She's not going to look too closely at that reaction. She turns her attention to the plants dotted around the salon, they're real and well taken care of, which offers her some hope.

Ten minutes pass in awkward silence, each one dragging awfully longer than the last, but Hyun eventually arrives, at least.

He doesn't look anything like he did at the university. There's not a dull colour in sight; jeans with large stars stitched on in coloured thread, slung low on his hips and held up by a studded belt, a vest with another star on it, and a much saturated navy blue hoodie decorated with even more stars. It makes his hair, twisted up in two tiny asymmetrical pigtails that spring out from his head in cute spikes, pop. There's star clips in that, too.

And he's wearing obvious make-up. It's so well done Rui nearly lets her jaw swing wide open. His eyes look sweet, brown, and wide in surprise, more silver stars pressed into his eyelids. His lips—

Rui isn't going to go there.

"She's," the word sounds uncertain, but Haruto's cadence picks up when he goes uncorrected, "here to see you."

"About last ni—"

"About hair dye," Haruto cuts Hyun off. He regards Rui, looking the very opposite of cold like he had at the university, then Haruto, then Rui again. Rui couldn't even bet on what she thought was happening in his head.

"Oh." Is all Hyun says.

"What, thought I was gonna come in here and chew you out?"

"No?" Hyun replies, and the pinch of his brows is- Rui wants to grab him by the face and shake him. His face grows worried in the lapse of silence as Rui tries to talk herself down from a potential assault charge. "Um, maybe? Like a little bit?"

He sounds so genuinely confused. Rui feels like a terrible person.

"Well I'm not." Hyun visibly relaxes.

"And the dye job?" Hyun asks hopefully, a little awkward smile tilting his lips. He looks so… happy. If this is Hyun happy, then what Rui saw before was definitely not Hyun at his best. What the fuck had happened to make him that unapproachable?

"Yeah, I've got a drawing. Permission to freestyle a little is granted since I couldn't find exactly what I wanted."

Hyun's face lights up in the most incredible smile. It's one million watts and comparable to the sun because it literally warms Rui up.

"That's amazing! Show me, please?" And it's a statement, but Rui feels like if it had been typed out, it would have ended with a little smiling emoticon. Holy shit. Holy shit, he's cute. Like, really-hot-but-you-can't-say-that cute.

Rui takes out the folded slip of paper, actual quality stuff straight from Wumuti's sketchbook, and hands it over to Hyun who turns it over with zeal. His eyes are bright and she can see the cogs behind his eyes start to turn. Is this what people see when Rui starts to plan this kind of stuff? Do they think it's as incredible to see in her as she thinks it's incredible to see in Hyun? She hopes so.

"I can do this." Hyun says confidently, with a smile and a decisive nod. Then, he steps back and extends a guiding arm, "this way, if you will."

Rui goes to stand, and takes the hand Hyun offers her without much thought. It seems a bit unnecessary, but judging by the heat in the tips of her ears, she's not complaining. Maybe she should include this kind of customer service, too? It's certainly effective.

It's good she takes it, because she stumbles over the little threshold between the laminate wood of the entry-way and the patterned linoleum. Hyun catches her, and shoots her an apologetic look of concern before quietly asking if she's okay. The grip he has on her waist burns through all of Rui's layers.

Haruto looks very judging from behind the desk; glances between them, the mini pride flag in the pen pot on his desk, back at them, then seemingly gives up and goes back to whatever boring spreadsheet is open on his screen.

The seat she ends up perching on is wonderfully comfortable… Rui should probably replace hers, but would it be too far to find ones exactly like this?

"I'll go get the goods; make yourself comfortable, alright?" What can Rui do but agree?

She flips open her phone to text Haru, but spends the six or seven minutes Hyun is gone for staring blankly at her keyboard instead. Rui manages to shoot a text asking how they're holding up before the gentle squeak of Hyun's shoes breaks her focus.

"I'm going to check your scalp before we start, is that okay?" Hyun asks, sweetly, as he puts down several bottles of bleach and developer down on a small trolley to Rui's right. Rui nods and hums. She skipped her last hair wash for this, and skipped her usual styling products today. She walked out of her apartment feeling next to naked this morning.

Hyun's touch is delicate at first, like he's easing Rui into the sensation, and it's much appreciated. His fingers grow more confident once Rui lets her shoulders fall from around her ears, which is a wonderful sensation. Hyun hums approvingly, which Rui tries to deny she preens at. What? An expert can still appreciate an expert's judgement. Don't look at her like that.

"Do you mind if I put some music on?" Hyun asks hesitantly. He meets Rui's gaze through the mirror sheepishly, and Rui's heart squeezes at the sight of his big, brown eyes.

"Yeah, sure," she replies noncommittally. Wumuti has trained her ears well over the years they've known each other, and if anything, Rui is curious as to what Hyun will put on.

It's Whitney Houston. Rui tries not to smile too loudly, because while it was obvious Hyun was some type of queer before, this just confirms it. Hyun plays it quietly. Quietly enough that Rui can hear his melodic humming over the top of it. Strangely, it doesn't irritate her growing headache.

"You don't have any allergies or skin conditions?"

"Mild lactose intolerance, but I don't think that's relevant," Rui says serenely. When had her eyes fallen closed? Hyun chuckles behind her, and it sounds rich like bells and jingling bangles.

"I'll start with the dyeing, then," Rui can hear the smile in his voice. "Bleach first."

Hyun mixes the bleach up, and the smell hits Rui like a familiar friend. Hyun leaves it to section and clip back Rui's hair, which feels nice. In the end, most of Rui's long, black hair is clipped out of her face, leaving just her framing pieces and the underside of her hair on the right side.

Then, like he remembers something important, he ditches his zip-up jacket. It reveals the nicest arms Rui has ever seen, and it takes everything in Rui not to gawk. She cannot lose herself in this in of thinking about the enemy.

'I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Who Loves Me)' comes on over the small speaker Hyun has, and Rui can see how focused he is through the mirror as he starts on brushing bands of bleach into the hair framing Rui's face — the start of an almost oil slick effect. Hyun mumbles the lyrics under his breath, and it shouldn't be so charming. Rui has to stop herself from dancing along, despite the way her body itches for it.

The smell of bleach is starting to make her head hurt however. Once it's covered with foil, waiting with patience she didn't know she had until now, Rui turns around and looks up at Hyun — through her lashes, because that's necessary with their current height difference — and politely inquires if they have pain killers anywhere for her to borrow.

Hyun's blush is visible through his perfect foundation, and he nods, then walks off looking like his tail is between his legs to go get them. Rui knows she's hot, she likes it when it's proven she's hot, and she really likes it when Hyun is flustered because of her.

Fucking with her competitor is so fun.

Hyun comes back with a packet of pills and a glass decorated with small strawberries, which Rui takes gratefully.

"I can dim the lights, if you want?" Hyun suggests, head cocked like a puppy. His expression is less bright, but it's perfectly genuine.

"Are you… sure?"

"Mn, there's still fifteen minutes before I have to wash the bleach out. There's not much to do until then, and you look like you need it anyways," Hyun explains. He's so attentive… Rui tamps down on the fluttering in her stomach. She nods instead.

"That would be nice, thank you," she says, voice a little higher and lighter than usual. She sounds like a schoolgirl with a crush. Rui kicks herself a little.

The salon becomes even more peaceful with the lights down low. Rui knows the place used to have a reputation for being mediocre, but surely they have more business now Hyun's in charge, so where is everyone?

"Is it usually this quiet?" Rui asks, trying not to sound accidentally snide. She can't really make out what expression Hyun makes from the angle he's at, having dragged another stool over to wait on.

"Oh, uh, usually we start later on Thursdays. That's just how the staffing worked out."

Did… Rui manage to walk into the salon before opening time? God, she should really pay more attention. But why did they let her stay?

"Real, I do that on Tuesdays because my kids are at university," Rui says instead, knowing better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. It doesn't matter if Hyun is internally seething about his routine being thrown off, they're rivals after all.

"You have kids?" Hyun says with no small amount of shock. It's not bad shock either. It's more like surprise and admiration. What?

"No, no, not like that." Rui nearly laughs, when had she started to think of Haru, Yujin, and Aito as hers? "My apprentices, and my receptionist too."

Hyun hums in understanding, looking over to the desk, "I get that."

Rui tries not to moan when Hyun finally washes the bleach out — warm water and his hands are a dangerous combination. It doesn't get much better when Hyun blow-dries Rui's hair, carding his hands through the strands expertly. It's comforting. Rui tries to reel herself back from leaning into his touch. Any stretches of silence between them don't even feel uncomfortable, which is insane. The compulsion to fill the silence dies in Hyun's presence, and it's relaxing.

"How did you end up running this place, anyways? You're pretty young." Rui asks as Hyun applies graduating shades of blue and turquoise over Rui's natural hair, doing his best to achieve a tint rather than a full colour. They're saving that for the half-peekaboo on Rui's right side.

Hyun looks up, eyes vulnerable through the mirror, then goes back to the dyes. "I, uh, used to be a trainee for a music company… I couldn't imagine going into an office job after that, so hairdressing it was."

Rui freezes. Hyun notices.

"I know, it was kind of silly to dream that big, I'm not—"

"No," Rui says firmly. "It wasn't silly. I used to be a trainee, too."

The black bristle brush stops its work on Rui's hair for a long moment, before it goes back to work. She can spot a small, genuine smile on Hyun's face. They're kindred spirits. Rui should hate it.

"How old are you, anyway?" Rui diverges instead of thinking about it.

"I was born in 2002." A devilish smile stretches across Rui's lips. She has never had any major hang-ups about the age stuff, but she absolutely can't resist the urge to tease.

"So young, Hyunnie!" Hyun nearly chokes, "You're making me feel old!"

"What? What year?"

"2000," Rui replies gleefully.

"Unn— Noona isn't that old…" Oh? That stutter seemed loaded. Rui would offer 'jiejie' instead, but that's Haru's word to use. Rui glosses over it for now with a snicker.

"Call me what you like, Hyun," Rui offers, relaxed tone seeping through each word. Hyun doesn't go red, per-say, but he does stare very hard at nothing, like a computer trying to reboot, for a few seconds before muttering 'alright' under his breath.

The peekaboo is dyed next, the shade straddling electric blue and aquamarine. Hyun understood what Rui asked for exactly, it was incredible. She tries not to look forward to the process of washing it out too much.

By the time Hyun finishes blow-drying it, Rui is suspecting that he's dragging it out, savouring it. Why he would do that with the only other direct competition his business has, a complete stranger mind you, Rui has no idea. Maybe it's just him taking pride in his work.

Hyun leans over to put the blow dryer down, and Rui catches a whiff of a familiar scent. When she thinks about it, something about his sunshiny demeanour seems awfully familiar too, but she really can't put a finger on it.

Then, Hyun tries to undercharge her on the way out.

"Are you calling me broke? That was two-ninety thousand, easily." Rui accuses at the desk, which Hyun is quick to shake his head vigorously at.

"No," Haruto rolls his eyes, "she's just in lo—"

He's cut off by an unsubtle kick under the table. 'She'? Interesting.

"Will you people just take my money already? You did a good job. You deserve it. Take my money." Rui slaps down the bills on the counter, because cash is king, and refuses to pick it back up. She nearly gets halfway out the door before:

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" Hyun calls, and wow his voice can get loud.

"I'm not taking the money back! And you can't make me!" This feels like a reverse mugging, and a couple of heads on the street outside turn in confusion.

"No, no! I just want a picture!"

"Oh." Yeah, oh. Rui needs to stop assuming things. She cocks her hip, one hand resting on it. "Well, what's the magic word, Hyunnie?"

He splutters, looking both flustered and mildly offended, but he yields. "… Please."

"Mn, good." Rui nearly says 'boy', thinks better of it, nearly says 'girl', thinks better of that, too, and settles on 'bunny' before just ditching any additional words.

It takes a few minutes, because Hyun's hands are shaking around the camera. They say their goodbyes, and Hyun can't meet Rui's eyes, fingers still gripping the camera.

"I think she might've been too drunk to remember—" Hyun whispers (loudly, but Rui can tell he's trying to be subtle) to Haruto as Rui leaves, but the door shutting cuts off whatever he was about to say. It takes half of the walk for the realisation to hit Rui.

How the fuck would he know she got drunk?

Rui resigns to not thinking about it, because she feels like she can't ask. Still, it haunts her the whole way home. He's not… like… stalking her, is he? He doesn't really seem subtle enough, so that's off the table almost immediately.

They got along so naturally… Rui pushes the thought away, too. Lord above, his customer service was top-notch. Rui has to step up her game.

Aito and Yujin look like they've seen war when Rui comes back, but Haru informs her that despite their haggard looks, nothing bad happened at all. They did their best and Rui is so proud of all of them, and so gives them a couple sweet treats she keeps stashed in her bedroom and roughly fifteen thousand in bills each for being so good.

Hell, they really are like her kids.

Haru says he's got to go to Shota's dance competition, and Rui hurries him out the door, shouting goodbye, good luck and; "Get him flowers!"

She really hopes he heard that last one.

Now, Rui cracks her fingers. She's got competition submissions to work on.

It takes a couple days for the results to come back once she submits them, but the results come in eventually and put an end to Rui's endless pacing, which is of much relief to Hao.

She's made it to the finals, she reads with pride.

And so has Hyun. With a picture of her.

She's going to strangle him with her least favourite wig. That customer service was such a farce! What a snake!

"Don't come over," Hao whispers over the phone on the other side of the living room. It's Hanbin, probably. "I might have to bail someone out of jail tonight," he continues mournfully.

An opportunity to upstage the hell out of Hyun presents itself eventually.

"That drag queen you flirted with a while back asked me to ask you to style a wig for them, by the way," Wumuti mentions over a cup of tea at the little hold-in-the-wall cafe they've been frequenting since they found they have the best salted milk tea in the city. Wumuti shamelessly licks the drink off of her top lip. Rui can't get behind the flavour but she knows well how valuable the taste of home is.

Rui sips at her hot chocolate instead, wiping the whipped cream off her lips with her thumb and licking it off. Her drink is unbelievably sweet, and while she's capable of handling much more mature, subtle flavours, only the most extreme sensations cut it some days.

"When does she need it by?" Rui asks, then she nearly drops her mug. "The drag queen I did what with?"

"Hmm? You don't remember?" A smile creases Wumuti's eyes, indicative that Rui has stumbled straight down the path Wumuti wanted this conversation to take. "Does the name 'Bunny' ring any bells?"

Rui wants to seep into the crack of the retro loveseat she's sitting in and never come out. Does she dare to ask what she did?

Doesn't matter, Wumuti carries on speaking anyways; "You fussed so badly over her hair, calling her all sorts of pet-names when she said she did it herself. More than that, I think you really liked her personal space."

"Oh, god," Rui mumbles, head in hands.

"Don't look so glum, she certainly didn't mind. Maybe she looked a little awkward, sure, but I know her well enough to say she enjoyed it even if she wasn't sure what to do with her hands." Whatever that means.

Rui curses the fact she's chronically single and chronically impulsive. But if Bunny wanted a wig from her, she was okay with her, at the very least.

"She needs it by Friday," Wumuti finally says, looking away to watch the city go by outside the window.

Rui chews her lips, a bad habit considering how much she fusses over her make-up, and thinks it over. Drag can be so bold, so out there. It's eye catching. It's memorable. It could be a really, really good opportunity for submission photos.

"I'll do it," Rui decides firmly, putting her mug down a little too hard and wincing.

"You didn't ask how much they were thinking of paying?"

"Oh, yeah. That." Rui considers it. She didn't take this commission thinking about the price at all. Sometimes it's a marvel to her that she runs her own business. "I'll figure it out."

Wumuti snorts affectionately. "Nice hair, by the way. Who did it?"

Her tone is knowing. It's always knowing. And Rui chokes on nothing as she remembers the hair appointment and everything that happened within it. She fights the heat in her cheeks, but by Wumuti's expression she can tell she's losing.

Everything is kind of a nightmare right now. Half of Rui's salon is scattered about the living room while she paces. Hao is practising a self-composed piece for Hanbin, the soppy gay loser. Yujin who stayed after work to hang out with him, as well as one of Hao's friends that Rui is vaguely aware of, Gyuvin — who got turfed out for the night by his boyfriend for something — sit near-by chatting.

That's not really the problem, if anything Rui quite likes the sense of community the borderline parallel play brings. No, the problem is that it's been six days since Wumuti handed him the wig in the middle of that cafe, and Rui has been too busy with other submission photos, and musing about how she's going to get back at Hyun, that she's neglected the wig until Thursday night.

It's another chronic habit she kind of hates herself for. Procrastination. This slip up makes her feel years younger, makes her feel stupid.

There was minimal direction given on how Bunny wanted it to look, which is both nice and absolutely fucking torturous all at once.

Her thoughts turn to Hyun again, uncontrollably, and she imagines his face — the sweet eyes and sweet smile — when he loses the award to her. It doesn't feel as satisfying as it used to, not by a long shot. Tsk-tsk.

After enough sighing, Yujin floats over. Such a filial young man.

"Um, well, I heard through the grapevine that she likes Whitney Houston?" Rui finds it sweet her kids gossip behind her back. Still…

"Huh? What, so I should do something eighties inspired?" Rui asks, because she actually trusts Yujin's opinions on things. He just shrugs. Well, it's more inspiration than nothing.

Rui tilts her head staring at the wig, and Yujin seems to take that as his cue to skip back over to Hao and start asking him if he can be the ring-bearer at his wedding. They better involve Rui in that later.

But something eighties… That could be kind of hard to pull off without looking dated or cheap considering how loud drag could be. Not that eighties hairstyles weren't loud, they were, but Rui didn't want the distinct loudness clashing.

Rui sucks her teeth. Big hair would be key. She thumbs her phone, playing with the edge of its case.

She needed to see what Bunny was wearing.

Rui takes her phone to her room, flops onto her perpetually unmade bed, and calls Wumuti because this is urgent.

"What's she gonna be wearing?" Wumuti sighs on the other end of the phone, all too knowing, which doesn't make Rui feel very good but she pushes past feeling like she's stressed out her older sister.

"I'll send you a photo."

And she does, almost instantly. Rui squeals out a thank you, figuring out a plan almost instantly, and hangs up after nine rounds of 'I love you!'s.

Disco-flared halter neck jumpsuits spin around in Rui's mind. The hair is going to be a little less big than Rui originally thought.

ABBA ends up on full blast in her headphones as she makes a mad dash to the living room to make a start.

Hao drives her and the wig to the venue the next day, because no way in hell is Rui taking the wig (however well pinned to a mannequin head and stuck in a big styrofoam box it is) on a bus when it's so time sensitive. And Hanbin is there, too. Because he's Hanbin.

Rui feels like she's third wheeling in the backseat, and commits herself to stop being a stereotype and finally learn to drive.

They drop her off on the kerb outside, and Hao sends her off with blown kisses like they're actually her parents. No one around seems to care about the spectacle, and for a moment the nerves Rui had been carrying since ten o'clock last night finally alleviate for a bit.

Then, Rui has to figure out how to get backstage through the rear entrance. Wumuti sent her directions, but Rui has no internal compass to speak of, so she just walks and prays. There's a smoking area she passes through quickly, and a set of double emergency doors she slips through.

The hall they lead her to is red from floor to ceiling, and totally windowless. It's freaky, but the sound of people a wall away setting up the stage makes it less so, so she keeps walking. Rui ducks her head into several doors until she catches wind of one of Wumuti's perfumes. Thank god for her particular, peculiar sense of smell. Rui follows her nose until she finds Wumuti's dressing room.

It's like she senses Rui before she opens her mouth, turning in her seat. Her outfit is much more modern than Bunny's which is surprising because Rui thought there was more of a theme. But then again, Wumuti had always gone her own way, it was probably something to do with her own interpretation of something.

She examines Rui's hair, face lighting up at the sight of it, which is enough approval.

Wumuti grins, "you made it!"

"Of course?"

"Well, you sounded stressed the other night. I almost thought you might not make it," Wumuti turns around, fiddling with earrings. Rui clicks her tongue.

"You doubt my ability to do things last minute?"

"No, I don't. That's why I said 'almost,' Ruru."

"So, where's Bunny's room?" Rui asks, leaning the box against her hip — exposed by the crop of her velvety slate blue shirt, that ties in a row of thin bows on one side, and the low hang of a pair of baggy jeans she pulled off her bedroom floor.

Wumuti smirks, and jabs her thumb to the right and tells her it's two doors down.

Rui spins on her heels, letting her hair, pulled up in two bunches of clip-in bows to reveal the peekaboo while leaving the front untouched, flick behind her as she leaves. She's been doing that ever since she got it done. Yes, Hao did tell her to stop it when he accidentally got a mouthful of it this morning.

Rui knocks this time, waiting to be let in. She's flushed down to her toes about coming face to face with the beautiful drag queen she drunkenly flirted with.

"Come in!" A loud, rich, honey sweet voice calls. It freezes Rui in place. No fucking way, no fucking way.

Apparently Rui stays stock still for long enough for the person behind the door to take the initiative and open it themself. It confirms Rui's worst dreams… no, best? Most bizarre? The conflict of interest is insane.

Hyun stares back at her with similar levels of shock, and a hearty bit of fear.

The halterneck flared jumpsuit of Rui's daydreams is really distracting, her (because her seems most right at the moment) shoulders are so exposed, and Rui is talking herself out of licking them. But it's not distracting enough for Rui to miss the way Hyun's eyes start to sparkle.

"I didn't think you'd come in person! Ah! Ah, come in," Hyun welcomes, and the force of her smile is something to be reckoned with. Dazedly, Rui does as she's told.

Hyun and Bunny are the same person. Hyun, the hairdresser she'd started a (what she now realises is rather one sided) rivalry with, the one she's supposed to hate but ended up with a really stupid crush on, is the same as Bunny, the super hot drag queen she drunkenly flirted with and had lowkey been thinking about ever since.

Hyun gently pries the box from her hands, with a 'thank you' that sounds like the essence of a perfect summer day distilled into a couple syllables.

It's too much, and Rui turns to bolt.

"Wait!" Hyun cries, catching Rui by the wrist and stopping her in her tracks.

Rui turns to face her, taking in the glamorous make-up bedazzling her face with silver gemstones that match the belt of her jumpsuit and the hottest eyeliner Rui has ever seen. In Rui's humble opinion, Hyun doesn't even need the wig. She looks so good already. Rui tries really hard to breathe normally, but it's kind of hard when she's looking at her like that.

With such gratitude.

Rui bends to Hyun's whims, facing her properly, and Hyun traces the line of her arm to hold her hands. It's a very girlish, very honest pose.

"I'm sorry I asked for something so vague so last minute, I know the competition is on and it was probably so stressful for you to juggle these, but I knew you would do such a good job," Hyun smiles at her; it's warm like Rui's bed in the morning. It's so inviting. She wants to kiss Hyun so bad. She wants to hit her with a metal folding chair. "Here, payment."

Two hundred and ninety thousand won in bills, pressed into Rui's hand. The uneven crumple of them is familiar. Rui is suddenly distracted from the tidal wave of yearning and extreme vexation, by vexation but for another reason.

"I said you couldn't make me take the money back if you tried." Rui stuffs the bills down Hyun's front (gently enough to not be too rude, just regular rude.) She huffs and crosses her arms as Hyun fishes the notes out.

"How much did you want, then?" Hyun asks earnestly, her voice is slightly higher than the last time Rui heard it in the salon.

"Uh." Rui had forgotten to come up with a sum the entire week. Fuck. Shit. Hyun giggles at her, which Rui can admit makes her heart nearly beat out of her chest.

"How about we discuss it over drinks later?"

"I thought you would hate me?" Rui bursts out with, if not just to confirm her new perspective.

"Huh?" Hyun looks genuinely distressed at Rui's words. "No, not at all! Why would I hate you?"

"Because…" All of Rui's reasons feel kind of flimsy when she tries to say them aloud, "because we're like, rival hair salons? And the awards?"

"Ah, I'm not trying to run you out of town or anything…" Hyun fiddles with the belt cinching her waist nervously. This is the quietest Rui has ever seen her, including the university visit. "If anything, I really look up to you."

Come again?

"On in five minutes!" Someone shouts through a crack in the door, interrupting Rui's sudden onset tachycardia.

Rui turns to skitter away but doesn't even make it to the door before Hyun calls out from behind her: "Drinks later?"

It takes a moment, because of the shell-shock, but Rui nods her head. "I'll wait for you."

Hyun breathes a sigh of relief so hard her shoulders rock with it, unadulterated joy over takes the anxiety that was present on her face moments ago, and it's so beautiful. Rui wants to see it every day.

"Put that wig on, already! I didn't freak out over it for nothing!" Rui snaps with not bite, and then she slams the door behind her.

Mother of god, Rui is the worst person ever. She's such a bitch for assuming things. Hyun wasn't trying to replace her or ruin her life at all.

Rui ends up slumped against Haru's bar, and the past fifteen to twenty minutes must be visible on her face because her sweet didi is pressing a cup of ice cold water into her hands. He's trying to avoid a repeat of the incident from over a week ago, poor thing.

"Did you finally figure out Hyunnie hyung likes you back?"

"What?"

"Whoops," Haru mumbles, turning his head away and pulling a face before turning back. "Nothing."

"Haru," Rui demands, and the boy swallows, "do you know Hyun?"

"She works here most drag nights, jiejie." Oh, he is not pulling the jiejie card right now.

"We both know that's not what I meant."

"She knows Wumuti so she knows me?" Haru offers with a dubious, tight grin. Rui slumps further.

"How long have you known?"

"Um, Hyunnie hyung has been pretty starstruck about you since Wumuti brought you up once. That was a while ago, though. You looked like a new person once you came back from Scent, though." Curse Rui and her subtitles.

"It was the hair," she pointlessly defends.

"It really wasn't, jiejie," Haru deadpans. "You looked smitten."

"Then why did he treat me like that?" Rui whines. Haru's patience is definitely running thin by now, but Rui knows how to push things.

"Remember what I said about Shota?" Not really, Haru hasn't shut up about Shota since the dance competition and that was a while ago, so there's a lot of potential things that could be referenced right now. Rui's face seems to say that well enough, because Haru tips his head back like he's praying to the heavens to give him the strength to deal with his ridiculous older-sometimes-younger sister.

"Ask her yourself then," Haru settles on. Rui obviously hasn't jarred him too much, because he takes the now empty cup from Rui's hand and fills it with lemonade instead. "Go get a seat, will you? It's not attractive to be whining about sore feet."

Somewhat reluctantly, Rui follows that advice and settles in for the show.

It's so much better when she's not tipsy. There's artistry in everything Hyun does, obviously, because drag is art, but Hyun's perspective and touch shines through at every turn. Her set, filled with cheesy seventies disco ballads, is delightfully kitsch and miraculously cutting edge all at once. Rui would've missed all of it had she begged Haru for a drink.

Her jaw is wide open by the time Hyun finishes her bows. She's going to set whichever shitty company that rejected or otherwise shunned Hyun away from the limelight on fire, but to be fair they must be so stupid they've had to have done it to themselves already. Rui hopes they enjoy the taste of bankruptcy.

It's a little like an angel descending from the heavens when Hyun sits down next to Rui, two drinks in hand, one being Rui's favourite; vodka soda.

"You were," Rui starts breathlessly, "incredible."

Hyun plays coy, but the proud grin on her lips can't be hidden by the way she turns away, hands clasped between her knees as she rocks in her seat. Her wig doesn't move, much to Rui's delight, and the golden curls stay perfect. "Thank you."

"I just— this is gonna be so clumsy, I'm sorry, but I thought you hated me when we first met. Why did you act so…?" Rui trails off, Hyun's smile drops fractionally and she looks guilty. Rui feels guilty. Captain Comedown, she is.

"You see," Hyun drawls, looking everywhere but Rui's eyes for the right words, "I'm not good at new things on the best of days, but more than that I was tired."

The weight in her voice makes Rui believe her unquestioningly, but Hyun isn't finished, and neither is Rui.

"It wasn't easy to pull Scent out of the hole it fell into," Hyun mourns sipping at her drink, which Rui copies with a knowing hum against the rim of her glass. She feels that. Dirty Baby took everything she had when she was just getting started, but at least she didn't have a previous reputation to contend with. "More than that, it was drag night the night before. I kind of… sang my voice raw."

"You stared at me a lot during that demo, especially when we split up. I thought you thought I was stupid," Rui confesses, running her manicured finger across the edge of her glass. It feels juvenile out loud.

"No, not at all." Hyun's face is bright red, and her whole body is screaming her bashfulness at Rui. "I thought you were so good at your job, so good. Natural. I wanted to watch, I guess my face didn't let that come across. It does that sometimes, especially when I'm tired. Sorry."

And then, much quieter: "And you were pretty. I didn't want to say anything weird."

"Uh— d— uh?" It's not tachycardia that Rui is feeling; Hyun thinks she's pretty. "T-the light?"

"I really hate that kind of light, I hate them more when they flicker." That's what Haru meant when he brought up Shota. It makes so much sense.

"Oh my god, I'm the most paranoid person ever," Rui says vacantly, then she starts scrambling. "I'm so sorry, you didn't even do anything and then I just assumed the worst and then you were hot and it was confusing so I tried to hate you but it didn't really work and—"

Hyun interrupts the cascade of words with a loud laugh, one she muffles with her hand as she folds, wracked with amusement. Rui's frozen in place, hands outstretched, fingers splayed, mouth still wrapped around the next word. It's the nicest sound ever, she has to get her to make it again sometime, it's vital.

"That's why you were so standoffish when you visited? I thought you might not remember the second time we met, but I wasn't expecting that," Hyun laughs. Rui chokes back half of her drink at once, and shivers. "But you think I'm hot?"

Rui goes up in flames, shoulders to her ears and all. She's trying to hide in herself and it's not working. Hyun rests her chin in her palm and looks at Rui and her obviously guilty expression with a sparkle in her eyes. "Go on, say it."

That's unfairly attractive. "You're hot. Really hot."

"Mm, close. Say it to my face next time, yeah?" Hyun drags Rui's gaze back to her, taking Rui's chin in her fingers and forcing her to face her. Rui shifts in her seat and prays Hyun doesn't notice. "Have we established I'm not trying to end you or your business?"

Rui nods against her palm, because Hyun still hasn't let go.

"Good, because I want to get to know you!" The dominance melts instantly, like candy floss in water, reverting back to the bright self Rui now knew Hyun to be. It's whiplash. She needs to piss Hyun off one day, not by a lot but by enough to stoke this kind of reaction again. For science.

"What's there to know?" Rui asks dumbly.

"How did you end up so good at hairdressing to start, but also how do you know Wumuti?"

"Oh, those are related. You see—"

Rui glosses over exactly what led her to quitting the music industry, though she mentions she's not local which Hyun seems to admire her for — something about tenacity, that's what Hyun tells her, and she thinks Hyun would probably make a good gym teacher with the passion that's forever present in her voice. Then; Wumuti, the person who pulled her onto her feet again.

It turns out Hyun had a very similar story, though it was much fresher which makes Rui pout. She wishes she could make the obvious pain in Hyun's eyes go away with a snap of her fingers. The world hadn't been kind to her.

What is funny, amongst the near identical tales of being reborn into the creative world in a much different way, is that Hyun apparently ran into Wumuti in an ice cream shop, which is where her journey started. How they went from ice cream to drag in one sitting is beyond Rui, but it still makes her smile.

She's going to hold off on calling anyone perfect, but Hyun is pretty close to it. She talks about all the things she's grateful for, and Rui lets her do so uninterrupted, and when she mentions mentoring Haruto in more detail, Rui's heart leaps. She's captivating, like the sun in the middle of winter.

Dinner should probably come first, they should definitely take it slow, Rui knows herself well enough to know that, but still, she kind of wants to propose on the spot or something dramatic like that. She needs Hyun as a permanent fixture in her life, there's a Hyun shaped hole in it that she hadn't noticed until now.

"I need a picture of you in that wig, by the way." Rui interjects halfway through Hyun's very intelligent (and passionate! Rui has been listening the whole time, Hyun is that good at talking!) sounding monologue on philosophy, which she doesn't seem to mind.

"We can go back to the dressing room—" Hyun suggests, but Rui has other plans.

"Or we could go back to my place?" She says sweetly, batting her lashes.

"That would be pretty good, actually, they kick me out of the dressing room after too long," Hyun agrees, missing Rui's implication completely, but that's okay because it's sort of adorable. Rui is making heart eyes at Hyun, she can feel it, and Hyun is starting to stutter.

The bus back to Rui's is funny considering Hyun is in full drag next to some of the most miserable looking salary-men Rui has ever seen. They barely manage to make it off the bus before Rui starts giggling, lightly smacking Hyun's shoulder as they walk down the quiet street, which Hyun returns without a problem.

Hao's bike is not where it usually rests against the wall next to their door, Rui notes. Huh.

Hyun is somewhat hesitant to come in when Rui manages to get the code right (she gets it wrong while sane and stone cold sober, embarrassing) until Rui explicitly invites him inside. Once that hurdle is overcome, Hyun seems at ease, taking in the mess of Rui's living room.

Fairy lights are nailed to the ceiling by the gaps in their wires, because Rui owns the building and can mutilate it however she likes, and the furniture was meant to be matching and aesthetic but the idea of that had been given up on at some point. Rui likes it despite that, and Hyun seems to share that opinion, which makes her feel like skipping as she makes for the small kitchen.

She pulls out the wine she's been saving for an unspecified special day and pours two glasses.

Hyun jumps away from the bookshelf she'd been examining like she had been burned when Rui reenters the room, and Rui feels as endeared as she feels concerned.

"Here," she says, passing her a glass, "sit anywhere, nothing in here is sacred. I'm gonna get my camera, okay?" She pauses. "I've got a roommate, but I don't know where he is. If he asks you anything, you're my guest and him and his boyfriend can shove it, alright?"

Hyun looks somewhat bemused, but nods.

Rui takes a moment to glance down the hallway before she shuts her bedroom door; a dark, prideful part of her mind deeply enjoys the sight of Hyun getting familiar with her home. She licks her lips, then focuses on finding that damn camera instead of the heat stoking in her belly — she swears she left in on the left corner of her desk, goddam-nit.

It takes a staggering twelve minutes, but she finds it and bustles back.

Hyun stares out of Rui's favourite window in the apartment, the one that looks out onto the glittering warm lights of the city. The air is very still, and neither of them seems to have bothered with turning any of the lights or lamps on; the sound of the city going by outside lulls Rui to reality. Hyun is in her living room, and if she plays it right, she has a shot.

Quietly, Rui lines up the camera, Hyun in the centre of the crosshair. She's beautiful, competent in ways Rui admires to the core of her being, kind in the most genuine ways. Hyun is so understanding.

Click.

Rui takes a burst of shots, capturing the way Hyun turns to notice her. She's not submitting those ones.

"Is that it?" Hyun tilts her head. Rui doesn't answer right away, but she hums a note in response, enjoying the way Hyun's eyes follow her as she sets up the room but skitter away whenever she tries to meet them.

"Nuh-uh," she says, one knee between Hyun's thighs as she leans over her to drag the cooler looking light into the right place. She can feel her breath on her collar bones, which is electrifying.

Hyun is staring up at her when she pulls away, eyes vulnerable.

"This one is, though."

Rui lines the camera back up, breathless at the sight on the live preview. A twist of possessiveness says Rui should keep every picture to herself, but the rest of her disagrees.

Click.

It's not a burst this time. Just one photo. Rui checks it, and it's perfect.

"Why did you never debut?" Hyun asks out of the blue, then looks bad for it as Rui glances up at the question. Rui wants to smooth the crease between her eyebrows out with her thumb. She hums.

"A mix of things. They could tell what I was, and one convenient injury was all it took after that."

"Injury?" The care in Hyun's voice is tangible.

"Hypermobility in dance makes it easy to fly too close to the sun. You don't notice the damage until it's too late. Someone else took my place."

They lapse into silence.

"Do you still dance?" Hyun asks carefully. The question makes Rui want to sing, and she smiles despite the ache of an old wound she allowed Hyun to prod.

"Yeah, sometimes, I've been dancing forever. I'm not gonna let other people stop me in my tracks," Rui replies with pride, settling on her knees beside Hyun's feet as she examines the photo in depth. The hair is highlighted well, thanks to the lighting. "I do a lot of traditional dancing, from home, but I'm open to new things. And you?"

"I do more modern stuff, on top of the drag that is."

"Not debuting, I mean. Not that I don't think your dance is cool, I really want to see that sometime, but, yeah."

Hyun takes a moment, chewing her cheeks and sipping her wine before she says anything. "It's similar, I just wasn't enough for it to work out."

She stares out the window.

"I think you're enough," Rui states, rising from her spot.

"Huh?"

"I think you're enough," Rui reinforces. "More than enough, even. They were stupid to let you go."

She climbs into her lap and eats up the way Hyun's cheeks grow rosy. Rui nearly closes the distance, but leaves enough space to say it again. "I think you're enough."

Hyun's fingers dig into Rui's hips, but she doesn't make a move. She stares up at Rui with an unreadable expression.

One hand leaves Rui's hips and trails up her side to cup her face. Unabashedly, Rui leans into it.

"If I'm enough, then you aren't replaceable," Hyun whispers earnestly. She wants to believe her, so she does. How is Rui meant to not kiss her after that?

Rui closes the distance, meeting Hyun's lips in a kiss far more delicate than she expected from herself. Hyun's lips are soft and full, and though she seems to take a moment to adjust, Hyun kisses her back. It's like waking up thirsty at midnight; Rui can't stop until she has to pull away for air.

Hyun's wig isn't that firmly attached on account of her having to take it off for a gag mid-performance, but that suits Rui just fine. She takes it and the wig cap beneath it off and just chucks them, despite Hyun's whine of protest. She wants her hands in Hyun's hair and she doesn't want to wait for the sake of putting something down nicely.

The next kiss is hungrier. Hyun starts it, the hand on Rui's cheek moving to cup the nape of her neck instead, angling Rui perfectly so that when she nips at her lips, she has easy access to the rest of her mouth. It's hot. Rui grinds down in Hyun's lap, moaning around her tongue.

Hyun breaks the kiss, a string of spit connecting them until it collapses on itself. Their foreheads press together, and the colour in Hyun's cheeks isn't from the blush.

"Want you out of that jumpsuit," Rui breathes into the space between them. She's already drooling at the thought of what's beneath the deep blue satiny fabric.

"Will you be patient for once?" Hyun scolds, drawing a giggle from Rui that she smothers with another heated kiss. Hyun kisses down her jaw, mouthing at her neck before biting down where it meets her shoulder. Rui jolts in her lap. "You'll get what you want, but you have to be good."

"Uh-huh," Rui manages through a wild smile, breathing heavy. She likes where this is going.

Things are hurting in ways that they haven't hurt in for a hot minute, and Rui can smell breakfast and coffee.

"Fuck," she draws out under her breath. When she throws her hand along the other side of her bed, it touches nothing but her bedsheets. The hell? There was a Hyun in here a couple hours ago, where's she gone?

Rui suppresses the voice in her head that tells her Hyun isn't coming back just in time to find her shirtless in her kitchen. She didn't see much of her back last night, so Rui tries to stay quiet so she can take in as much of it as possible. Hyun's personal training has obvious results, and they make Rui bite down on her lip hard.

"I didn't hear your alarm go off?" She questions, one hand blindly holding onto the empty doorframe of the kitchen. Hyun perks up and turns around at her voice, which is cute, and the smile that greets her could power the whole city until they both die.

Hao would scold her earnestly for not saying good morning first, but Hyun just teases instead. "No good morning? Is it just morning, then? I thought that having breakfast on the go would make it good but I guess not."

"Having you in my house makes it a good morning already, I thought that would be obvious." Rui crosses the kitchen to hug Hyun from behind, resting her cheek against her back (muscles! Back muscles! They're so nice…) and wrapping her arms around her in a hug.

"This is an apartment, not a house. Also I don't need an alarm, I kind of just wake up at the same time every day," Hyun fires back lightheartedly. Rui snickers against her back, but sobers up with a hum.

"But good morning. Why are you cooking?"

"Because I'm hungry and you're also probably hungry?"

"You're my guest," Rui whines. "It's rude I didn't cook."

"It doesn't matter to me, really, if that makes you feel any better." Rui kisses Hyun's back in response, feeling the way her softly contoured abs (abs!) tighten at the sensation. Hyun is fun.

"[You finally got some, Rui? Congrats!]" It's Hao, because it has to be. The only other person who speaks her tongue is Wumuti, and she doesn't show up unannounced.

"[That's the least romantic way you could've possibly said that,]" Rui snipes back, the airy syllables leaving goosebumps on Hyun's skin.

"[Yujin owes me fifteen thousand.]"

Rui rolls her eyes. She switches so that Hyun can finally be let in on the conversation. "Good morning to you, too. Did you have fun with Hanbin last night, or did you go to the aquarium and end up falling in with the octopuses?"

Hao is covered in— Rui hesitates to say hickies, because they're more like straight up bite marks. God, they're literally insane.

Hao bristles, but now they're even so he doesn't try to fight back. His eyelid twitches. "It's octopi."

"I go my own way," Rui turns up her nose. There's a nearly imperceptible shake rattling through Hyun's chest, but it's well contained.

Rui grins, because she's just found the perfect partner in crime, and kisses Hyun's back once more for good measure.

Safe to say, the next joint class they do at the university is far less tense. They even take the bus to it together! Mostly because Rui was getting acquainted with Hyun's place, and ended up staying over, but that's not the point, not even when she ends up leaving Hyun's apartment in borrowed clothes.

Apparently, everyone did so shockingly bad on the written test that Hyun and Rui have to reteach the topic altogether. It's kind of impressive. And kind of irritating, but Rui's mood can't be brought down by it when she has a date with Hyun lined up later.

Hyun volunteers to be Rui's live test subject instantly, much to the dismay of Aito and Yujin who have already been overexposed to their couple-y-ness. Rui ends up making cat ears out of her with the product to demonstrate it's effect, and internally whines about not having tried it sooner because Hyun looks adorable with them.

Rui has subtitles, and his apprentices can read them well enough to look absolutely done with this lesson already. Sucks to be them, they still have half an hour.

She nearly busts the door down trying to get out the second the clock hits eleven fifty, Hyun hot on her tail but lagging just enough to wave a passionate goodbye to their students. She's particularly bright today, in a yellow and red patterned cardigan, almost garish striped shirt, and green tinted jeans — dressed up for their date, Rui realises. The thought puts a bounce in her step.

The open air restaurant is nice, the day is bright, and their conversation wanders through anything and everything. Hyun is a wonderful conversation partner, able to match Rui's slightly disorganised speech while also being happy to fill in when Rui's grown too lightheaded to keep talking.

She got so lucky, Rui thinks while she mouths at her straw, lipstick rubbing off on the paper, what are the chances she'd meet Hyun? Then again, it feels like they'd end up crashing into each other's lives in every life. Rui hopes that's true.

Hyun is closing off on telling Rui about his most disastrous drag experiences, laughing at the scenarios in hindsight, when their phones chime simultaneously.

Their eyes meet, and they know what it is.

Rui scrapes her chair around to the other side of the table, leaning just past Hyun's shoulder as she opens her phone and checks the notifications.

The National Hairdressing Awards results.

Rui's breath hitches. Hyun's thumb opens the PDF.

Rui chokes on air, letting out a strangled sound. Neither of them have won. Rui came in second to some guy named Ricky, and Hyun didn't even place.

A laugh scratches its way out of Rui's throat. She had been paranoid about Hyun taking her spot for literally nothing. Then she doubles over in silent wheezing.

Hyun is staring at her with concern when she comes back up for air, but Rui brushes it off. Despite being dethroned, she feels surprisingly okay about it.

"Where's your name, huh? Kind of rude of them. You deserve it more than that guy." She says and Hyun sighs emphatically next to her.

"I've been trying to tell you for ages that I don't have nearly enough mentoring and educating experience to be considered, not like you do." Hyun protests, and her complaining tone is playful in a very Hyun way. Sometimes they feel like an old married couple already.

"I should start listening to you more often," Rui sighs, feeling like a weight has fallen off her shoulders. "You're my voice of reason, sometimes."

"I'll be your voice of reason forever, if you want."

Rui hums. "I like the sound of that."

They kiss under the shade of a street tree planted on the edge of the kerb.