Chapter Text
Megan thinks that it has been 3:49 for hours and hours now. She knows that isn’t possible, her first grade teacher taught her all about time by using tiny plastic clocks. She remembers their bright red hands on the yellow face, and she thinks that it would be nice to have those back instead of her digital clock. It blinks in her face constantly, and the numbers are so bright she can still see their outline when she covers her eyes. The green digits shake and dance and fly away from the screen when she stares at it for too long. They fly towards her face, tugging her hair back and settling at the tips of her eyelashes.
A cluster of threes and zeros fall on the exact spot on her nostril that she had her nail pressed against months ago before Manon left on her hiatus. She was asking Manon if she thought a nose ring would make her look hot, and even though Manon had her “I’m trying to be responsible” face on, her eyes gave it away. Maybe she had resisted from encouraging her because Sophia was sitting right next to her, one of her legs draped over Manon’s thigh, but Megan knew Sophia wouldn’t be vehemently against it if she cleared the whole idea with management.
Yoonchae had gently traced the tip of her finger along the curve of Megan’s nose and told her very quietly that she was already hot.
Megan would like for Manon to come back. She knows that Manon’s hiatus was very much needed, and fuck she kinda wants one too, but she misses her. The hundreds of comments that flood every video that even mentions Katseye’s name begging for Manon to come back is not helping.
Sophia caught Megan scrolling through the comments in a reel of an interview once. Half the comments were about how selfish the girls were for not addressing Manon, a quarter was talking about how the dyslexic jokes had gone too far.
Maybe the comments were reflecting in Megan’s pupils because Sophia had slipped her phone out of Megan’s hand instantly, running her thumb down Megan’s hairline.
Megan would also very much like for Yoonchae to be with her. She has devolved this issue where she cannot sleep for very long when Yoonchae is not around. It is quite inconvenient considering Yoonchae does not live with her.
She’s knows that its stupid, something that Dani would probably snort at, before telling her that it’s sweet. Megan is twenty years old, she has been for over a month now. She should not have this reliance on Yoonchae just to sleep.
Lara had pointed out that she was almost the legal age to drink the day after she turned twenty, as if Lara hadn’t taken shots with her the night before. Megan doesn’t think she has ever been as hung over as she had been her second morning of being twenty and most of it was a blur of gentle hands and soft words spoken in Korean.
Megan flops on her back and stares up at her ceiling. She is tired of being alone, her bed is too warm, and Yoonchae is too far. She could go knock at Lara’s door, but she doesn’t really want to. Lara would cup her face in her hands and ask when the last time she ate was, and lying does not appeal to Megan right now.
Megan blinks, her eyes are drying out and she remembers that she needs to order more contacts.
The clock shifts to 3:51, and Megan wonders if time could be moving slow just to piss her off.
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Megan is tired as they practice dancing Debut for the millionth time, but of course she is, she didn’t sleep. She hasn’t slept well since four days ago, when Yoonchae fell asleep in her bed. She remembers tracing her eyes over Yoonchae’s porcelain features until her eyes fell shut and even then she dreamed of brown eyes and a curved smile.
Lara had made her coffee when she woke up, along with some toast, buttered exactly the way she liked it. Megan had been too tired to eat because the lack of sleep makes her nauseous, so she had drank the coffee and ignored the food. Lara didn’t push her, just ran her finger under Megan’s eyes, where her dark circles probably were painted, and told her she needed to rest after rehearsal.
Megan has been working too hard to let herself be tired; she has been putting in twice as work since the dances had been slightly altered. She is almost fully convinced that if she takes an extra breath everything will fall apart.
She’s subconsciously aware that things will not fall apart, but her loud thoughts are currently outweighing the gentle thoughts that somewhat sound like Yoonchae’s voice.
She gets through rehearsals just fine, wonderful actually, and when she reaches for her bag, Yoonchae’s hand ends up in hers instead.
“Can I drive you home?” Yoonchae asks softly, her nail tracing moons and stars and swirls on the back of Megan’s hand. She had recently has obtained her permit and has been offering to drive Megan at least every other day since.
Megan nods and pressed her keys into Yoonchae’s palm.
The moment Yoonchae steps inside the apartment, her hand closes around Megan’s wrist and leads her to her bed.
“You need to sleep,” She tells Megan, so firmly that Megan almost thinks Sophia may be there instead of Yoonchae.
They end up curled in Megan’s bed, Yoonchae holding Megan against her chest. Yoonchae’s fingers are brushing through Megan’s hair, lingering on her cheeks.
The whole thing feels like a fever dream, and Megan briefly wonders if its still 3:49 am.
She remembers she hasn’t ate today, and when she feels Yoonchae’s mouth frown against her forehead she realizes she must’ve accidentally voiced that thought.
“Megan,” Yoonchae scolds lightly, her fingers pushing what used to be Megan’s bangs behind her ears.
“I’m sorry, Yoonchae” Megan mumbles into Yoonchae’s shoulder, and she begins to feel tears prick against her eyes. She squeezes her eyes shut so hard she sees stars, but she assumes it’s better than seeing what her tears will soon turn into a watercolored painting.
Yoonchae sighs through her nose and presses her lips against Megan’s temple, “When you wake up, I will make you something to eat. Okay?”
“Okay,” Megan murmurs, her words muffled against Yoonchae’s shirt.
Megan drifts off to sleep with one of Yoonchae’s hands on her hip, the other cupping her cheek.
She dreams of stars and soft voices and spinning until she falls. Her mouth can’t open, she can’t scream for help, and she is pitching head first into blackness. Soft hands on her hips guide her up and she still thinks she is about to fall, but her feet land on solid ground.
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Megan doesn't wake to neon numbers flying at her face which is so much of a surprise that she doesn’t move at all, in case the numbers have not registered that she is awake and will come at her any minute now.
She squeezes her eyes shut again, a haze of colors flood her mind and she thinks that she’d rather live in her head. It seems nice, she would find a corner without the bad thoughts and Dream Yoonchae could live with her and they could float around the splatters of color. She would never have to wake up to a clock again, unless Yoonchae wanted one.
It is such a nice idea she can feel herself drifting off to this place, but something brushes against her cheekbone and she is no longer able to reach her thoughts.
She opens her eyes and squints up at Yoonchae, her hair is tumbling down her shoulders like waves crashing into the sand and Megan is being sprayed by the foam.
“You need to eat something,” Yoonchae informs her, and Megan shuts her eyes again.
“Megan”
Megan can’t just block Yoonchae out of her vision like that, she loves Yoonchae too much to do that. Hesitantly she opens her eyes again; her vision gets caught tracing the soft curves of Yoonchae’s face.
“I can’t,” Megan whispers, there’s pressure building behind her throat and she isn’t sure how to relieve that without sobbing.
“You can,” Yoonchae says gently. Her lips brush the corner of Megan’s jaw and maybe the words will stick near her ear forever; Yoonchae’s voice repeating that she can, don’t worry Megan, you can.
“I made us ramyeon,” Yoonchae adds, “You don’t have to eat all of it, but you need to eat a little of it.”
Megan rolls on her back to stare up at Yoonchae again. Her eyes are so sincere and kind that Megan can’t form her lips to say no.
“Okay Yoonchae,” comes out instead, and Yoonchae’s smile is so bright Megan has to squint.
Yoonchae takes her hand, she’s in the kitchen now. She’s not sure when that happened, but she’s sitting in one of the stools that Lara lined up along their counter.
Yoonchae places a bowl in front of her, steam rises out of it like in the cartoons she watched when Megan was little and smiling.
Maybe she was right earlier and she is in a fever dream. She feels dizzy enough to be in one.
The noodles are warm in Megan’s mouth, and Yoonchae’s hand stays cupped over hers. Yoonchae eats with her, even though Yoonchae’s right hand is over Megan’s left. Megan knows that Yoonchae is right handed, so how is she eating so carefully with her left?
Megan takes another bite, mostly for Yoonchae, partly so she doesn’t have to keep feeling her feet float off the ground when she is thinking about important things. Like Yoonchae and music and colorful hazes.
Megan eats a little more than half of what is in her bowl, then rearranges the rest to make it look like she ate more. She feels a weird pull of guilt after that, she doesn’t want to lie to Yoonchae, so pushes the noodles back where they were before with the edge of her fork.
Yoonchae’s arms wrap around her shoulders, her chin propped on Megan’s shoulder.
“Good job,” Yoonchae hums in Megan’s ear, at least Megan thinks she says that. She is not very sure; she is not sure of most things that are happening.
Yoonchae’s lips press to edge of Megan’s nose, then the corner of her mouth. She is sure that those kisses were real. Dream Yoonchae never kisses Megan, she is usually too busy saving her from falling into dark swirls of nothing.