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The sky attempts erasure against the Seoul skyline. The deluge a perfectly vertical brush descending from the heaven, swallowing lights, sounds, time and warmth in static.
Zoey doesn't turn her head at the sound of the sliding door opening behind her, the ambient tumult of the rain drowning Rumi's footsteps. A blanket falls on her shoulder, and she instinctively curls up under. Even shielded by the overhang, the cold and dampness of the rain still soaked into her bone, leaving her trembling without realizing.
Rumi sits down next to her, wrapped under her own blanket. Not touching, but close enough to lean. She doesn't speak. Distantly, Zoey is thankful for it.
She returns to her trance, observing the rain, letting the white noise dissolve her thoughts until they meld together in an indistinct melancholy. For a while, nothing else but the rain exists in her mind.
Then, maybe one minute later, maybe ten or thirty, it doesn't matter, Zoey asks, "Would you have chosen me, if not for the Honmoon?"
Rumi doesn't answer immediately. Zoey waits.
"No."
Zoey smiles a little. It's joyless.
"You saved my life, that day," she says, after a while.
Out the corner of her eye, she sees Rumi turn to look at her, an unreadable look on her face.
"I didn't plan to go home, after the audition. I didn't expect to be selected, either, I just wanted to do something, at least once, before…"
Rumi stays blessedly silent. Zoey would be glad, but at this particular moment in time, there is only a strange sense of weight and relief, a blanket of numbness, and a few feelings buried deep for a long time, surfacing from the mud.
"I didn't have a plan. Nothing concrete, anyway. I don't know what I would have done if you didn't ask me to stay after the audition."
There had been ideas. Formless. Weighing the effort required against the easiness of the moment and the inconvenience to others. A long fall often came up as the most preferable outcome, but then it came to finding the high enough place and the plan dissolved in apathy.
"It was raining, the day my parents found the syringes. Just like today. All day, non-stop raining.
"They thought it was drugs, at first. I wonder if that would have been better, sometimes."
The words come easier now. Zoey has no idea if they are coherent. It doesn't matter. She keeps talking, and Rumi keeps listening.
"I had a whole getaway bag prepared. Just in case. With a prepaid phone, money, solid food, a few syringes and a backup phial. Everything needed to live for a couple of days or weeks. I had a plan, in case they found me out. Run away first, call them back a couple of days later when they were calmer. To explain and hopefully come back later.
"But it was raining.
"It was raining, they weren't yelling, and I thought I could explain. I didn't run."
Her hands tighten their grip around her arms. She didn't run, because running would have been uncomfortable and inconvenient. Because the danger didn't seem immediate enough.
"They still took it all. The syringes, the phials. The bag.
"They also took my phone and my laptop, for a little while. Honestly not that long. A couple weeks, maybe? A month? But after that I… didn't try to get back in contact with my phial provider. I don't know why, exactly. I could have, I think. I doubt they changed numbers.
"The funny thing is, my parent never really yelled at me. Not for that. I think they were too busy yelling at each other."
They had been fighting before then, but more exasperated than angry. Most of the time. She just gave them the ammunition for bigger fights.
"After my mother left for Korea, my dad told me: 'Do what you want.' I don't know if he meant it. I think he just… didn't care anymore. I could have gone back on hormones, and everything. But I think… I didn't want anything anymore. Wanting meant planning, contacting people, trying. And trying felt… too difficult.
"I still shaved every morning. I still let my hair grow. But apart from that I didn't really do much. I went to school, came back to takeout food still warm on the table, went back to my room to play games, and crash asleep to do it all again the day after.
"I didn't buy any more clothes, or makeup. I stopped voice training. I stopped talking in forums.
"I stopped writing."
She's crying now, silently. Somehow it's a relief.
"I don't even remember picking up the flier for the audition. One day it was just here on my desk. I looked up the flights for Seattle, and it was cheap enough that I could buy a one-way trip with whatever was left on my account. I packed a bag with all my girl clothes, the remaining makeup that my mother left behind and I left. I didn't say goodbye to my father, he was asleep on the couch.
"I dressed up and did my make up in the bathroom. I almost turned back because the other girls kept laughing at me. There was one who helped me with the eyeliner though. She was nice."
Her hands had been trembling so much. Even in the state she was at the times, she was so nervous that she couldn't keep still enough. She ended up with way too much eyeliner for her taste but at least it was symmetrical. She distinctly remember thinking that the eyeliner could not possibly be what would have her pass the audition.
"That must have been the most ridiculous and humiliating audition of all time." She chuckles, and falls silent.
Rumi nods. When she finally speaks, it's with the flat tone of the bare truth, because anything else would be crueler at that moment. "Mira didn't breathe for your entire audition. I think I broke my pen. It was a train wreck, but we knew our third was in the train.
"Your dancing was disastrous, your singing offkey but at least it was on beat. Your rap was decent, but hardly the best at that audition.
"And trans idols have never been really mainstream, before.
"By all standard measures, you would never have been accepted."
Zoey smiles without humor. The tears don't stop, neither does Rumi. "The really promising contestants all received normal trainee contract offers. You didn't steal anyone's place because of the Honmoon."
It's nice to know, Zoey thinks. She can't really bring herself to care right now, though. "The Honmoon still saved me. Do you think it chose me, at that moment? To save me?"
Rumi hums. "I don't know. Maybe? But I don't think... Of course we don't know what would have happened otherwise, but… do you remember the interview you had, after the audition?"
Zoey frowns, and shake her head. "I don't remember much of that day, to be honest. I know I've signed papers and contracts, and we've talked about a lot of things but it's all… blurry."
"Every prospective trainee gets an audition. But only you had a one with a therapist."
Zoey looks over Rumi, surprise in her eyes. Rumi continues, "I didn't know for a long time. It's Bobby who told me in passing, a couple years back. I think he assumed I already knew. Apparently he saw you in the lobby and he was worried. Plus, there had been multiple reports from staff and other candidates so… he summoned a therapist under contract and asked him to conduct the interview.
"Apparently, the therapist wanted to have you committed. Celine convinced him not to, and he only relented on the condition that we didn't leave you out of our sight and that you saw a proper therapist for a while."
Zoey stays pensive, for a while. "Being committed sounds scary, but honestly? Probably good call."
Rumi chuckles a little. "You should have seen Celine sitting Mira and I down to explain to us what 'a transsexual' was. I swear she was reciting the wikipedia entry by heart or something. I've never seen her so out of her depth, before or since."
Almost against her will, Zoey's lips curve into a smile. "At least I had the most efficient transition ever, I swear. They were throwing everything at me before I even thought to ask, I only had to nod and I was scheduled for the next operation, or voice training appointment or whatever. Amazing."
"Did they… force you, into operations?" Rumi frowns.
"Not… really?" Zoey ponders, "I don't think so? I think they just… proposed, and I accepted. I think Celine really wanted me to be stealth before our debut, but I don't remember her ever insisting really. It was a bit scary but ultimately that's what I wanted, too so…"
She pauses, thinks for a long time. "I was difficult to want anything, for a long time. I think going back on hormones helped, and the antidepressant most definitely did. But honestly, it was all a bit blurry for a long while." She smiles, just a little bit mocking. "I think the first clear memory I have after… everything, is the first time I won a sparring match against you."
"I let you win."
Zoey gasps, offended. "You didn't!"
"I did," insist Rumi calmly, a smirk on her face, "I didn't know what else to do to get you out of your shell, so I let you win. It's the first time you looked at me. Really looked at me."
"Ah yes," Zoey nods sagely, "my first post-depression gay panic. An important milestone."
They laugh quietly and turn back to look at the rain. Zoey leans on Rumi, who shifts to wrap her arms and her own blanket around Zoey.
"I am… so lucky," finally says Zoey.
"Zoey…"
"No, I am! I am medicated to hell and back. I am happy, most of the time. I have an amazing career, I've been living as a woman for… almost ten years now. And of course I have the most beautiful, amazing, kind, talented and beautiful girlfriend."
She punctuate each of the compliment with a peck on Rumi's cheek, chin and neck, as Rumi laughs and protests, "You've said beautiful twice!"
"That's because it's twice as true," retorts Zoey, with one last kiss on Rumi's lips that lingers for a little bit.
"Right back at you," murmurs Rumi against her lips when they separate.
They settle back down, to keep observing the rain that is starting to calm a little.
"There are… so many kids, out there, who don't have the same opportunity," continues Zoey. "Sometimes, when it's raining, that's all I can think about. All those kids who are trapped in houses they can't escape. Maybe because of the rain. Maybe because they have no idea they even need to escape."
Rumi's arms tighten around Zoey, and Zoey continues. "I've been thinking about coming out. I know pride month just ended but I never really liked the idea anyway so it wouldn't be like yet another one of those soulless corporation just putting the flag in their logo and then donating to lobbies against queer's rights."
"You could," Rumi is quick to say. "You can, if you want. The Honmoon is sealed, and this new one would probably get a kick out of it anyway." Zoey chuckles. "We could also… donate to the correct charities, or even create our own if we want, to make sure it does exactly as good as we want. God knows we have the money for that. I can text Bobby and ask him to plan a meeting to talk about that with the investors. We have the most shares so they won't have the choice anyway, but they get antsy when we don't pretend to listen to them. Oh, do you think Mira would want to design a new clothes line? We could donate the earnings to—"
Zoey laughs, loud and clear. "Calm down, calm down!" she says, in between chuckles. "I swear, you're like a dog who just heard the word 'walk' and gets the zoomies, except it's for work and meetings. The Rumies."
Rumi pouts a little, and Zoey takes the opportunity to kiss it off her face, before slowly rising to her feet, and helping Rumi do the same. "Here, let's go inside, it's freezing out there. We'll sleep in, and once we're rested, you can plan and schedule to your heart's content.
"We'll be prideful tomorrow."