Archive of Our Own ^beta

the first time chaewon feels it is just before midnight on a friday. 

her and minju’s arrangement is simple: sometimes chaewon likes to go out. guys tend to come up to her and start a conversation. minju steps in, claims to be her girlfriend, and whoever had approached chaewon backs off. 

it’s a system, and it works. 

tonight they’re at a new place, far from chaewon’s usual stomping grounds. chaewon’s had three drinks, enough to soften the edges of the lights in the room. there’s a heat at the back of her neck that persists. 

she scans the room. minju usually likes to sit by herself, busy on her phone until she finds chaewon in need of her help or she goes to get a drink at the bar. chaewon watches her. she’s pretty tonight—she always is, but the length of the night has some of her hair falling out of her ponytail and into her face. it’s a sight. 

but then, in the corner of chaewon’s periphery: a man sauntering toward minju, glass in hand. chaewon steps closer; starts to head that way, too. 

her hunches prove to be right—the man leans on the wall nearest minju, hand in his pocket, slimey smirk on his face. 

the prick behind her brow comes unannounced to her, irritation bubbling under her skin. maybe it’s the alcohol; maybe it’s her fear of minju being too kind that she ends up getting hurt. 

chaewon makes sure her heels clack when she nears and clears her throat when she reaches minju. slides an arm around her waist. “hey there,” she says. “you know this guy?”

minju turns to face her, muted sort of surprise on her face. “i—i don’t, no,” minju tells her. 

chaewon puts on the best smile she can. faces the guy and says, “can my girlfriend and i do anything for you?”

the guy steps back, frowns. “girlfriend?” he asks. 

“yeah.” chaewon widens her smile and pulls minju closer. chaewon feels the rigidity in minju’s back, the tension she holds there. can sense her rushed breathing. chaewon taps at her hip. i’m here. 

minju responds by taking her hand and putting it atop chaewon’s. places traded; the opposite of their usual positions. 

“mind backing off?” chaewon asks, keeps her voice sweet. 

“i was just—” the guy scoffs and rolls his eyes. “i was just trying to talk to her, jeez, no need to—”

“wanna go dance, babe?” chaewon turns to minju—an invitation for her to look back at her. 

minju does. “sure,” she says. 

“i’m sorry,” chaewon mumbles into minju’s ear. they’re not really doing much in the middle of the floor, just staying close and stepping back and forth, vaguely to the beat. “was that okay?”

“it was,” minju says with a laugh. “i’m a bit surprised, though. didn’t know you’d do that for me.”

“‘course i would,” chaewon replies. her speech comes slurred and it doesn’t sit well with her. she means what she says. “you literally do the same for me, mj.”

minju looks at chaewon. chaewon doesn’t know what it is—the three drinks, the strobe lights, the nearness, the glitter shadow applied on her lid. but chaewon feels her breath get stolen, for a split second. 

chaewon steps closer. she never imagined that the thought of a guy coming onto minju would irk her as much as it does, but here she is, relieved that she managed to whisk her away, still half-fearing someone will try again. 

“let’s go get some drinks,” chaewon invites, because it’s the only way she knows how to deal with it. 

***

“don’t you ever get anything else?”

minju shrugs, head downward toward her phone. “usual is comfortable,” she says. 

“try boring, mj.”

minju doesn’t look up; only rolls her eyes. 

chaewon sets their drinks down at the table. iced tea for herself, an americano for minju. her usual thank you to minju for letting chaewon take a night out of her schedule.

she’s familiar with the tilt-shift that happens when you start seeing someone in a new light. chaewon still hasn’t figured out what happened last night, but. with the way minju’s eyes won’t leave her phone—

“are you seeing anyone?” chaewon asks, tries to keep her tone light. a joke. 

minju frowns. “all of a sudden?” she asks. 

chaewon shrugs. “you’ve been stuck to your phone.”

“it’s just yujin,” minju says, dismissive. 

it only serves to sting chaewon even more. ahn yujin—minju’s most trusted confidante. with how much time they spend texting each other chaewon can almost believe—

“chae, it’s not—” minju covers her mouth when she lets out a laugh. “yujin is sickeningly in love with her girlfriend.”

chaewon blinks. she must have been staring. “she is?” chaewon asks, taking a sip of her drink. 

minju nods. “as she should be,” she says. “her girlfriend’s gorgeous. baffles me to this day how she got her.”

chaewon snorts. “how nice of you to say.”

“honesty is what i value most in my friendships,” minju replies. 

she finally looks up. it’s a complete flip from last night save the fact that she’s in a ponytail again. soft, knit cardigan instead of the tight, black dress she had on the evening before. light plenty as it pours in from the window instead of dark and hazy, flashing above them. 

chaewon closes her hand in a fist. what does this all mean? why does she feel like this?

she drinks her iced tea in an attempt to wash down the lump that’s crawled its way into her throat. 

“so.” she sets her cup back down. “you’re not interested in anyone?”

minju’s expression turns wary, her gaze narrowing. “why do you ask?”

“only because—” chaewon pauses. considers her words. “i mean, i guess you didn’t like that guy last night, but i also guess i’m just worried that things could have been different and i could have swooped in like that with a guy you did like.”

minju laughs, suspicion melting off her face. “don’t worry,” she says. “swoop in anytime. i guarantee that it’s always welcome.”

chaewon raises an eyebrow. “how are you so sure?”

minju’s expression turns again. slow thinning of her mouth. something chaewon can’t decode. stubbornly unreachable. “i just am,” she tells chaewon. 

***

it all started a few months ago. last semester. 

tail end of the midterms week, and everybody’s celebrating. all the popular spots near the university filled to the brim with bodies. chaewon one of them, drinking by the dj booth. 

there wasn’t any reason for her to believe it wouldn’t go normally. she’ll drink, dance a bit, then go home, stress washed away by the night. she’ll wake up the next morning, eat the greasiest breakfast she can make. life goes on. 

but of course, it doesn’t happen that way. 

there’s a guy—chaewon wracks her brain for his name. taewoo? taeha? ah, taeho —who chaewon knows has been trying to get with her for the better part of a year now. chaewon’s always turned him down, but that seems to only spur him on. 

they lock eyes. fuck. 

chaewon scans the room for a bailout. settles for the first familiar face she sees. 

she approaches as kindly as she can. “minju?”

minju turns around. “uh—hello.”

“i’m chaewon.” chaewon gives a smile. “we share a lit class this semester?”

“yeah, i—” minju nods. “i know you.”

“cool,” chaewon says, and builds up her courage. “i’m sorry if this is sudden, but there’s this guy that’s headed this way and he’s about to bother me. i’m gonna pretend you and i are dating, is that cool?”

“oh.” minju blinks at her. chaewon doesn’t have much time—a few seconds, at best—but with what she’s asking of minju it’s not like she can hurry her.

then:

“chae,” a voice behind chaewon calls, and she closes her eyes in resignation. sighs. 

she turns around. “hi,” she says, wearing the best smile she can put on. “can i help you?”

taeho smirks. “you can, actually,” he says. “you can let me buy you a drink. and finally give me a cha—”

chaewon waves a hand. “oh, i’d—”

an arm slides around her waist, hand settling just above her hip. “someone you know, babe?”

chaewon turns. there’s minju, perfectly innocent curiosity on her face. “nah, he’s just—”

“we do know each other,” taeho interrupts. “right, chae?”

chaewon doesn’t grace him with an answer. “this is my girlfriend,” she says, not bothering to hide the bite in her voice. 

minju waves. 

taeho’s face twists in aversion. “oh. you’re like …” he swirls his bottle of beer in front of him. “that.”

minju clears her throat. “if you’ll excuse us—”

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” taeho drawls, waving his bottle around again. “jeez, can’t believe this,” he mutters, and walks away. 

chaewon exhales in relief. “thank you,” she tells minju, extricating herself from her. she holds onto her hand. “thank you. i’m sorry for just dumping that on you.”

“no problem,” minju says. “i’m sorry he’s such an ass.”

“yeah.” chaewon shrugs. “looks like he won’t be bothering me from now on though, thanks to you.”

minju smiles. “don’t mention it.”

the next day, just after their lit class ends, chaewon catches up to minju and reaches to tap her on the shoulder. 

“minju,” she calls. 

minju turns. binder hugged to her chest. “chaewon.”

“are you free right now?” chaewon asks. runs a hand through her own hair. 

“uh—why?”

“i just—i wanna buy you a coffee?” chaewon shoves her hands in her back pockets. ”as a thank you.”

“ah.” minju waves a hand. “no need, no need—”

“please? i insist.”

minju seems to consider for a few moments, grappling. then, sighs and says, “okay. my next class is at two.”

at the café, minju asks, “do people come up to you like that all the time?”

chaewon shrugs. takes another forkful of tiramisu. “gotta deal with the consequences of all the fooling around i did in first year.”

minju winces. chaewon thinks it’s been kind of minju to not bring it up—usually people she’s just met do. 

small colleges like these, reputations are larger than life. chaewon’s: pretty, easy girl who says yes to just about anyone. she was a bit misguided in her first year, dated left and right. it’s not like she didn’t mean for it to happen; she practically willed it herself. prettied herself up even just for a day in class, lured in all the attention she could get. curated instagram posts, went to all the parties she could shoehorn herself into. it was nothing short of a disaster. 

got herself together in the summer, and even if she’s dated after that, it hasn’t been nowhere near how she’d behaved in her first year. 

“to be fair, i don’t think that’s—well. fair,” minju says, brows furrowed. 

“which?”

“that you have to deal with it.”

chaewon smiles. “it’s okay. really.”

minju only frowns. 

chaewon laughs. “minju, it is,” she assures. 

minju doesn’t buy it, expression staying stern. but she doesn’t say anything after that. just keeps drinking her coffee. 

friday of that week, chaewon’s at a party again, ‘post-midterm’ high still in full swing. she doesn’t even know whose it is—yena had just dragged her to a stranger’s house and then promptly ditched her for the beer pong table. and of course—

“if it isn’t the kim chaewon,” some guy says, walking up to her. chaewon doesn’t even try to hide the disgust in her face; this man looks like he was a senior when chaewon was a freshman. what the hell is he doing at a college party?

“did you come alone tonight?”

chaewon opens her mouth to answer, but feels an arm wrap around her shoulder. a voice says, “she didn’t. right, babe?”

chaewon cranes her neck to look. it’s minju. she does everything to hide the surprise she feels, to sell the act. “hey,” she says, hopes it sounds natural. 

after a few words, they finally get away from him, and minju retracts her arm back to her side. 

“you’re here,” chaewon says dumbly. 

“i am.”

“do you come to these things often?” chaewon asks. 

minju only shrugs. 

chaewon snorts. “is this gonna be a thing for us now? i go out, you shoo men away for me?”

“it could,” minju offers, “if you want it to be.”

and the rest is history. 

***

“what do you think of minju?” chaewon asks yena. 

“minju? your anti-boy spray minju?” yena asks. 

chaewon elbows her in the side. “yeah. her.”

“i mean—i never thought much of her until you started your arrangement,” yena says. “she just always kept to herself. she’s here on a scholarship, right?”

chaewon nods. “yeah.”

“that explains it. i guess she’s studying all the time.” yena shrugs, like, what can i do about that? “why do you ask?”

chaewon bites her lip. why does she ask? 

she settles for telling yena, “i actually had to be her anti-boy spray the last time we went out.”

“oh?”

“yeah,” chaewon says. “just made me think about why it hasn’t happened more often. people approaching her. like—well, she’s pretty, right? it’s why i asked, i guess.”

yena turns to face her so slowly and dramatically that before she’s even done chaewon manages to scoff, roll her eyes, and elbow her in the side again. 

“okay, first, ow,” yena says, putting a hand over the hurt spot. “second, do you—?” 

she doesn’t even finish the question. just waggles her eyebrows suggestively. 

“you,” chaewon says, putting her entire hand so it covers yena’s face, “annoy my soul.”

yena pries it away and sticks her tongue out. “you love me.”

chaewon sticks out a tongue herself in reply. 

they both drop it after that, busying themselves on their phones, until yena says, “will you be bringing her this weekend?”

chaewon brows furrow. “to where?”

“to eunbi’s.”

“there’s an eunbi’s this weekend?”

***

chaewon feels it again the next time she and minju are out. 

she does, in fact, end up bringing minju to eunbi’s. eunbi’s parties tend to skew crowded, and chaewon doesn’t want to risk it. 

tonight, though, instead of them occasionally floating around separately, chaewon sticks beside minju, neither of them leaving each other throughout the night. 

“don’t you wanna go with your other friends?”

chaewon shakes her head. “not really,” she tells minju. smiles. “just hang out with my mj.”

minju smiles and shakes her head into her drink. 

“what’s that for?” chaewon asks. “am i no fun?”

“no.”

“then?”

minju shrugs. “we just don’t see each other outside of these things and the coffee afterwards,” she tells chaewon. “so i’m a bit surprised you wanna hang out.”

“damn.” chaewon downs the rest of her cup and winces. and apparently she has no filter even just a drink in, because the next thing she says is, “that’s—we should go out.”

minju’s expression turns teasing, her eyebrows raised. “what was that?”

she’s thankful for the low lighting and the excuse of alcohol, because the heat explodes across her face. she hides it with a roll of her eyes. “you know what i mean.”

“i do.” minju has a satisfied grin on her face. “what do you wanna do?”

“maybe we could—shit. game time.”

minju barely bats an eyelash. it dawns on chaewon how many times they must have done this, if they move this easily. almost like they’re choreographed. 

it’s two guys, this time. probably called dibs on either of them before coming over. ugh. 

“ladies!” one of them greets. “having fun?”

“i don’t know,” chaewon says. squeezes minju’s hip and turns to look at her. “are you having fun, baby?”

“as i was saying,” chaewon begins once it’s all over, “maybe we could see a movie.”

“a movie?”

chaewon shrugs and stirs her drink. she had to get a new one, of course. “i go to the cinema alone sometimes. it would be nice to go with someone.”

minju gets that annoying, teasing smile again. “you like going to the cinema alone?”

chaewon glares at her. 

“it’s—nothing!” minju laughs and nudges her on the shoulder. “nothing. just unexpected.”

“mj, i’m a film major.”

“still.”

chaewon bites her tongue. realizes what she’s just done—she’d just—she doesn’t usually tell anyone about her trips to the theatres. she thinks she probably hasn’t told anyone, ever. 

she looks at minju. is there something to blame again? 

the lack of a need to put up a facade, maybe. the lack of a fear that minju will view her differently. maybe: even if minju would view her differently, chaewon wouldn’t really mind. 

it’s minju’s kindness, chaewon tells herself. minju is kind, chaewon’s come to learn, and minju wouldn’t be mean enough to make fun of chaewon for that. 

she takes another swig of her drink. it burns a path down her throat. 

“we could go now, if you want,” chaewon says. 

“now?” minju’s eyes widen. 

“yeah. now.”

“at this time? are any of them even open?”

“it’s not even ten yet.”

minju looks at chaewon, puzzled. chaewon waits. 

her drink is taken from her hand. minju sets it down on the closest surface she can find. “alright,” she says. 

their walk to the cinema is mostly quiet, except when minju says, “i never took you for someone to ditch a party to go see a movie.”

chaewon shrugs. “as i said,” she tells minju, “i wanted to hang out with you.”

minju ducks her head. “that’s sweet.”

“besides.” chaewon follows suit, watching her own footsteps. “i’m starting to feel bad that i keep dragging you to those things. i figured you’d find a movie more fun than … that.”

she hears minju giggle. then feels her bump her shoulder. “thanks, chae.”

they go to a theater that mostly does old films. not really chaewon’s favorite, but it was the closest to eunbi’s. 

“anything that catches your eye here, mj?” chaewon asks in front of the list of screenings. shoves her hands in her coat pockets.

minju shrugs. “what do you recommend?”

chaewon scans over the names. settles for asking minju, “what do you think of the princess bride?”

minju replies, completely to chaewon’s shock, “as you wish.”

chaewon doesn’t even try to hide the delight she feels. she gasps, puts a hand to her mouth, and the other on minju’s shoulder. “mj!”

there was a period of time where chaewon thought, during her tumultuous first year, that she was just looking for love. 

was looking for someone who made it feel just like the movies. love that felt earth-shattering. love that felt like she couldn’t live without it. love that burned her alive. 

so she took every chance she got. every attempt at her she accepted—maybe they were the one. 

but they weren’t. they never were. she didn’t want anything less than perfect. and so chaewon would end it, or drive them to end it, and then try again. 

eventually told herself that maybe she just liked movies too much. 

that was her life, then: full speed. never a paused moment. it’s what she thought she wanted. a cup that she wanted to overflow and spill over. colors bursting with light and noise. 

but here she is with minju, in the quiet, dark movie theater. the complete opposite.  

she turns to look at minju. minju turns back. 

“smile,” chaewon urges, bringing out her phone. 

minju does, posing with her popcorn and drink. chaewon snaps it. 

“ah, chae!” minju scolds, blinking hard. “you could have at least turned off the flash.”

“we’re the only ones here,” she says as defense. 

it’s quiet and it’s dark. chaewon isn’t running her life at full speed anymore. 

she looks at the picture she took of minju. 

somehow, she still feels out of breath. 

***

“i saw you leaving with someone last week,” eunbi says, plopping down beside chaewon. 

they share a business class. their professor chose today of all days to run late, much to chaewon’s luck—now she has to deal with eunbi pestering her. 

“that was minju,” chaewon mumbles. 

“ah. yena told me about her,” eunbi says. “the two of you pretend to date?”

“mostly to ward off men, yeah,” chaewon replies. she rests her chin on her hand, starts doodling idly. 

“the way you left didn’t look like pretending to date, though,” eunbi teases.

chaewon rolls her eyes. “not you, too.”

“what do you mean not me, too?”

“yena’s also on my case about this,” chaewon says. sighs. “minju.”

“she is?” eunbi asks. “well. you don’t have to keep secrets from me.”

“i don’t,” chaewon tells her. “we’re not together.”

“sure looks like you are.”

“then that means our plans are working.”

“tch.” eunbi leans back. “aren’t you afraid of them working too well?”

chaewon frowns. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“at this rate you’re going to ward off everyone,” eunbi tells her. “even people you like.”

“i don’t think i’ll end up liking anyone, anyway?”

“what makes you say that?”

chaewon’s hand stops. when she looks at what she’s scribbled, she realizes she'd only written one word over and again. inconceivable. 

her hand closes into a fist and drops her pen onto her desk. she tries to imagine—someone coming up to her and her waving minju away. telling minju not this time, telling minju, i think i actually like this one, telling minju, don’t pretend to be my girlfriend. 

“i just—”

chaewon’s savior comes in the form of their professor finally entering. 

she shoves those thoughts aside. eunbi and minju and whatever those were can wait. 

too late, though. kind of. 

eunbi made her think of minju. and with how it’s been a week and a half since she’s seen her—and with how there aren’t any parties or clubs she wants to go to anytime soon—

hey, mj 3:22 pm

when and where? 3:23 pm

not free on friday though 3:23 pm

ah it wasn’t that 3:23 pm

i was thinking movie again but 3:23 pm

i only have friday free :( why not? 3:24 pm

yujin and her girlfriend are coming over 3:25 pm

they’re both coming in from out of town so i can’t wiggle out of it 3:25 pm

oh okay 3:25 pm

no worries 3:25 pm

another time? 3:25 pm

for sure ♡ 3:26 pm

there’s a name for it. the feeling. the heat in her chest. the bitterness in her mouth. 

chaewon just doesn’t want to acknowledge it. 

***

the next time chaewon feels it, though, she does. acknowledge it. give it a name. 

it’s been a while—chaewon thinks almost four weeks—since she last went out. it’s easy to forget, in that span of time, but tonight—

“sorry i’m late—i didn’t keep you waiting long, i hope?”

there’s minju again. with how she looks tonight chaewon half-wants to just ditch it for the cinema like last time. 

“you didn’t,” chaewon says. “come on, let’s get inside.”

the faking’s just getting to her. that’s what it is. 

minju’s arm around her shoulder and her head leaning against her whenever someone approaches. minju calling her babe. minju saying she’s mine, actually. minju looking pretty tonight. it’s messing with chaewon. that’s all this is. 

chaewon hasn’t been with anyone in a long time. the lack of affection takes its toll in the form of chaewon feeling a heat at the back of her neck every time minju does something. 

so she deals with it. 

“two more, please,” chaewon calls, raising a hand. 

“oh, i don’t want one,” minju says.

chaewon only smirks. “they’re both for me.”

confusion and concern knit themselves on minju’s face. “you okay?”

“why wouldn’t i be?”

“you usually don’t drink this much,” minju says. puts a hand on chaewon’s back. “is—is something wrong?”

usually this is all she’d want. to be concerned over. to be fawned over. to be listened to. 

and minju’s good at giving it. minju’s only ever shown her kindness. 

it’s all this is. minju is kind, and gives chaewon the kind of attention she likes. chaewon has started getting lonely, and minju is there. chaewon hasn’t seen minju in a while, and she does tonight. 

once she gets wasted, this’ll all be gone. 

her shots arrive. chaewon picks up a glass.

“i’m good, mj,” chaewon says, and downs it. 

“‘j.”

“chae, you’re—” minju hoists her up. chaewon’s been slumping in their booth, almost falling into her. “you had too much. we need to go.”

chaewon frowns. “i know, i know,” she says. she blinks in an attempt to steady her head. it feels like it’s spinning. everything’s a bit too bright. “i know, like, we should go, right? you probably want to go.”

“it’s not that—”

“i don’t—” chaewon hiccups. she raises her arms and then drops them to her sides, limp. “i don’t even know why you come with me to these things, ‘j, you just say yes whenever i ask.”

minju’s face goes to that faraway place again. like she’s putting a curtain over it. even in her state, chaewon can remember that time in the café, when minju did the exact same thing. she sighs. 

“why d’you do it?” chaewon asks. “you prolly have better ways to spend time.”

minju looks at her for a long moment. chaewon’s skin feels too tight—with how her thoughts are running, under minju’s gaze. 

and of course it’s in this moment where a guy approaches and says—

“let me take care of her.”

chaewon looks up. 

“not a chance,” minju counters. 

“aw, come on, we’re friends!” he says. steps closer to chaewon. “right, chae?”

chaewon just shrugs. she thinks the guy looks familiar. or doesn’t. 

minju moves so she’s in between the two of them. “i’m perfectly capable of taking care of my girlfriend, thank you.”

she moves an arm around chaewon. chaewon holds onto her hand, like instinct. 

“girlfriend?” the guy turns to look at chaewon. “girlfriend? you’re into chicks?”

chaewon just nods. muscle memory or routine or whatever it is taking over. “girlfriend. yup,” she replies, popping the ‘p’. 

the guy just scoffs. 

“come on, babe, let’s go home,” minju says, lifting chaewon up, helping her walk. she sends the guy one last glare. 

“home, home,” chaewon echoes. “let’s go home.”

chaewon’s biggest blessing—and curse—is that no matter how much she drinks, she remembers everything. 

she blinks awake to bright light, a pounding in her head, and an unfamiliar room. 

it takes a few seconds, but her memories align themselves, neat and in order: she drank too much. minju took her home. minju didn’t want to risk sending her in a cab in the state she was in. chaewon wasn’t coherent enough to give directions or her address. 

and so here was minju’s last resort: taking chaewon to her own place. 

“fuck,” chaewon hisses. 

at least she also knows she didn’t do anything even stupider after that. just crashed in minju’s bed. 

she gets up. slow, so she doesn’t fall over in the process. she notices she’s in a different set of clothes—minju must have changed her. she heads for the door. 

when she steps outside, she finds minju on her couch, watching something on the tv, knees hugged to her chest and mug in hand. 

chaewon looks at her for a while. here is minju redefined again. not in a dark club, or in a bustling coffeeshop, or in a school hallway. another minju she sees—at home, laughing occasionally at whatever’s onscreen. 

eventually chaewon starts to feel weird about staring and clears her throat. “um, hi.”

minju turns. smiles. “hey there,” she says. “good morning.”

chaewon feels the start of it. the barest skip of a heartbeat. she replies, “morning.”

“how are you feeling?”

“like shit.”

minju laughs. “come on,” she says, pointing her head. “i’ll make you breakfast.”

she gets up from the couch and heads for the table. chaewon follows behind her. 

“sit,” minju urges, and chaewon follows. 

“how do you like your eggs?” minju asks. 

“fried. edges crispy.”

“roger.”

chaewon watches as minju goes about. turning on the stove, frying two eggs, boiling some water for tea. the tv plays muted in the background. a portion of minju’s curtains are open, so some heat streams into the room and onto chaewon’s back. 

it’s calm. it’s slowed down. it’s quiet. nothing overflows—her cup just holds its contents quietly. chaewon doesn’t feel an urge to step on the gas, to start a conversation to fill the silence. she could do this, she realizes. 

minju. kind, patient minju who never makes chaewon feel that she has to pretend to be someone else. minju who saw beyond the whispers. minju who’s always there. 

why did it take chaewon this long to notice? maybe because she wasn’t looking. maybe because this wasn’t her idea of how this should feel. 

it’s fitting that chaewon comes to this in the most ordinary moment the two of them have probably shared. 

this is the name for it. this is what she’s been feeling. 

minju. she likes minju. 

minju, who’s making her a hangover breakfast. minju, who she’s going to treat to coffee later. 

her breath drops. her heart feels so full it might burst. 

chaewon is an overreactor. big deal. she’s known that all her life. 

but if she wasn’t the one going through this herself, she’d be laughing at just how she was handling the situation. 

minju setting down their plates, sitting across from her and taking her breakfast: i like minju. 

minju asking if her tea isn’t too bitter: i like minju. 

minju telling her that she’ll only be free at 5 for coffee: i like minju. 

minju handing her an aspirin and a glass of water—ice cold, because she somehow remembers that’s how chaewon prefers it: i like minju. 

minju telling her that she’d taken chaewon’s clothes from last night and washed them: i like minju. 

minju calling her a cab on her own phone so she can track the ride: i like minju. 

minju walking her to the front door and telling chaewon to text her when she gets home anyway: i like minju. 

chaewon likes minju. 

what on earth is she going to do?

their coffee later that day feels totally the same but completely different at the same time. 

chaewon can’t help but feel like she’s being selfish. meeting minju under a different pretense—that she’s just thanking her again for last night and everything after. when all she really wants is to spend more time with her. 

it’s odd. she figures her programmed normal response would have been to run away. be apart from minju, sort out her feelings, force herself to not like her. 

another time, chaewon tells herself. 

because right now:

“what?” chaewon asks. “what’s so funny?”

minju’s laughing so hard that her eyes are closed and her dimple dips clearly. she’s got a hand to her mouth and another raised to chaewon, as if she’s asking her to wait. 

“the fast franchise?” minju asks. 

chaewon crosses her arm and pouts. “yeah …”

they’re chaewon’s favorite movies. minju had asked what they were just a little earlier. 

“that’s—i love that,” minju says. no sarcasm, no teasing. “i love that. i wasn’t expecting that at all.”

chaewon rolls her eyes. “yeah, yeah, because all film majors love the shining or whatever.”

“you don’t,” minju points out. 

it’s so easy. it’s so easy to tell minju that her favorite film isn’t some three-hour thought provoking barely audible slow pacer. it’s a cheesy, commercial, mega adrenaline rush franchise. 

it’s so easy because chaewon doesn’t have to be picture-perfect for minju. not like she has to be with anyone else. 

being with minju is so easy. 

“you’re right,” chaewon says, “i don’t.”

that evening, minju sends her a text:

my favorite book is mockingjay 8:56 pm

chaewon grins. minju’s a comparative literature major, so this only means that minju’s sending this so that—

now we’re even 8:57 pm

taste 8:57 pm

***

chaewon feels a poke on her head. “what’s gotten into you?”

yena keeps her pen in place, right against chaewon’s temple. chaewon tries to swat it away but yena only dodges and repositions it there. 

“what do you mean?”

“you look like you have a lot on your mind,” yena says. then adds, “be careful. don’t hurt yourself.”

“ugh.” chaewon tries taking yena’s hand away again but to no avail. “it’s nothing.”

“doesn’t look like nothing,” yena says. “c’mon. spill.”

“drop it.”

“is it school?”

“no.”

“home?”

“no.”

“some guy, then.”

“definitely not.”

“a girl.”

a beat. then, “no.”

“oh—it totally is,” yena says. “it totally is. who is it?”

“no one,” chaewon grumbles. 

of course, knowing chaewon’s luck, her phone chooses this exact moment to vibrate. out of the almost 90,000 seconds in a day. 

she picks it up immediately when she sees who the message is from, though.

yena snatches it out of her hands. 

“hey!”

yena gasps as she looks at chaewon’s phone. “oh—i knew it.” her face grows smug. “i knew it, kim chaewon!”

chaewon gives up. she lies down on the patch of grass she and yena decided to occupy this lunch. closes her eyes and blows her hair out of her face. “yeah. minju. what about it?”

chaewon expects yena to come over and tickle her, tease her about it, tell her how proud she is that chaewon still manages to have feelings, but yena’s only quiet. 

“chae,” yena calls, after a while. softly. 

it’s—unsettling. chaewon opens her eyes. “what is it?”

“i don’t know much about minju, but.” yena hands chaewon’s phone back, closing it in her hand. “i think she’s good for you.”

chaewon raises an eyebrow. “you’ve never met her.”

“i’d say you’d tack that down as a pro.”

“i would.”

“my point is,” yena continues, “is that she’s different. also has more than a couple braincells up there to make up for your clear lack of them.”

chaewon doesn’t answer. just smacks yena in the arm. 

“i’d take a pretty girl with good grades over the frat boys that made you into a revolving door any day,” she adds. 

“so you do think she’s pretty.”

“okay, relax, i’m not interested,” yena says. “anyway—”

the conversation moves on, a switch of topic to the kind of week yena’s had. chaewon texts minju back: see you. 

***

minju had been insistent on making up for rain checking chaewon that one time. it’s what the texts were about: settling on a date when to watch a movie. 

they don’t go to a cinema, this time, though. just minju coming over to chaewon’s apartment. 

there’s something oddly fitting about seeing minju in a home. there’s a resolvedness there, a rightness. something in the gentleness of her face. 

“all good?” chaewon asks. 

minju’s adorably wrapped in a blanket beside chaewon on her couch. “good,” minju says. 

“stop, you’re gonna make me cry,” chaewon says, shoving minju. 

“i can’t help it!” minju half-sobs, half-laughs. “i’m a crier.”

there julia stiles is, onscreen, delivering a monologue that would be remembered by generations to come. heart bared open for the boy she loves to see. 

not even a little bit, she cries, not even at all. 

chaewon wipes a tear that streams down her cheek. when she does, she spots minju in her periphery, and chaewon sees that minju’s looking at her. 

“what is it?” chaewon asks. 

“you—you have it memorized,” minju says, a grin growing on her face. 

“i do not,” chaewon protests. 

“you were mouthing it!” minju says, delighted. 

chaewon can only frown. minju gets into a fit of giggles, hitting chaewon on the shoulder. 

“i bet you have a whole bunch of romantic monologues memorized,” minju teases. “softie.”

chaewon grumbles to herself, hugging a pillow to her chest. she scoots away from minju. so what if the rest of her favorite movies list aside from the fast franchise are 90s romcoms?

“i bet you have a bunch of lines from your favorite books too,” chaewon says. “maybe ‘okay’ will be our ‘always’.”

minju takes a long moment, regarding chaewon. then says, “a poem, actually.”

chaewon raises an eyebrow. “a poem.”

“yeah.” minju turns her head back to the screen, too. “in freshman year, i had a class where we had to memorize one of our choosing. we had to recite it on the last day to our professor.”

“they sound like fun.”

“you know how lit professors can get,” minju says. 

“what did you choose?”

they’re both quiet after that. the film drones on in front of them, the epilogue winding down. the wrongs righting themselves. 

chaewon hears minju take a deep, deep inhale. “it is a kind of love, is it not? how the cup holds the tea,” minju begins, slow and deliberate. chaewon turns to face her. 

she doesn’t try, but the morning minju took care of her comes to mind. 

“how the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,” minju continues. “how the floor receives the bottoms of shoes or toes. how soles of feet know where they’re supposed to be.”

minju turns to look at chaewon. chaewon doesn’t try, but it comes to mind. chaewon’s living room is dark spare for the tv. dark—like the places she and minju usually go. how, in those places, she knows that minju will always be there for her. 

“i’ve been thinking about the patience of ordinary things,” minju continues, voice getting lower, quieter. her gaze downward, towards chaewon’s hands. chaewon aches. 

“how clothes wait respectfully in closets. and soap dries quietly in the dish, and towels drink the wet from the skin of the back. and the lovely repetition of stairs.”

chaewon doesn’t try, but it comes to mind—how minju had thwarted all of her expectations. how chaewon adores the quieter moments she shares with minju. how she thought all she needed was someone to race to the sunset with, but instead minju is someone who invites her to watch it. 

minju looks up to meet chaewon’s gaze. everything is drowned out for chaewon at that moment. no film, no world outside her apartment. 

“and what is more generous than a window?”

***

of course, yena bugs her all about it. calls chaewon and asks, “how was it? how was it?”

and chaewon explains. chaewon says, all we did was watch a movie. chaewon says, no, nothing happened after that. chaewon says, she had to leave early because she had class in the morning. 

chaewon never mentions how minju had whispered a poem to her in the early evening. the most intimate moment chaewon’s ever had. 

“i want to meet her,” yena says, a little later in the conversation. 

“don’t scare her off.”

“i won’t. i’ll—i’ll have a couple friends over, yeah? just a small thing. we’ll get pizza. bring her over.”

chaewon licks her lips. it would be the first time—

“i’ll see what she says.”

mj 6:45 pm

free this weekend? 6:45 pm

where are you headed? 6:47 pm

just yenas 6:47 pm

chaewon hesitates. tries to consider her next words carefully. how will she put this?

she says she wants to meet you actually 6:49 pm

so were not gonna do our thing 6:49 pm

really? 6:50 pm

does yena know about what we usually do? 6:50 pm

yeah 6:50 pm

chaewon waits. watches the ellipsis indicating that minju’s typing intently. then:

ah ok 6:51 pm

i’m free! 6:51 pm

see you! 6:51 pm

***

the next time chaewon feels it is when she knows she’s in danger. 

she and minju walk the way to yena’s place; unusually far from campus, but minju insisted on going by foot instead of taking the bus. 

“we’ve been having more of these,” minju says. 

“of what?”

“meeting outside of pretending to be each other’s girlfriends.”

“do you not like it?” chaewon asks. 

“i do.” minju smiles. “it’s nice. you’re not the worst company around, anyway.”

chaewon can’t help but put on a grin of her own. feels a small heat in her cheeks. she bumps their shoulders. 

“touché, mj,” she says. adds, “i told you i’d make an effort. i’d be kind of a piece of shit to only want you around for that. you don’t deserve that.”

minju stiffens, goes oddly quiet. chaewon turns to look at her. 

minju swallows and ducks her head. “thank you,” she says. 

they arrive just past 7. 

yena opens the door with a gasp. “you must be minju!” she says, leading them in. “come, come.”

there’s boxes of pizza stacked on yena’s living room floor and her music plays obnoxiously loud, as always. chaewon and minju fit themselves into the circle that’s gathered around—there’s only yena’s brother, eunbi, yuri, and yena herself. 

eunbi, of course, takes to minju immediately and smothers her. offers her a slice of pizza, asks what she’d like to drink. asks what kind of week she’s been having, tells minju to let yena know if she needs anything. minju answers all of it a little wide-eyed, and scooches over to chaewon. 

it seems like she didn’t mean to, though. she startles when their knees knock. 

“you good?” chaewon asks.

sungmin scoffs. “you’re scaring her!” he tells eunbi. 

“no!” minju pipes up. “no, i’m just—this is all a bit new.”

chaewon laughs. despite everything, she feels drawn to put her arm around minju’s shoulder. 

she does. minju settles into it. 

eunbi only sends chaewon an odd look. 

the night goes along fine. minju becomes a semi-center of all their attention, being the newbie. she eventually eases into it. 

it’s then that chaewon realizes just how much she doesn’t know about minju. 

she notices, though, that minju doesn’t want to reveal much. answers in short, vague responses. but chaewon finds out a bunch of things: how her scholarship was unexpected, that she has two siblings, that she plans to get a job next semester. 

time winds on. they play a game of monopoly deal, where yuri just destroys them. chaewon ends up getting deal broken, and minju laughs at her. 

two hours go by before yena pulls her aside to her kitchen for a second. 

“she’s lovely,” yena says, opening a can of beer and handing it to chaewon. “you should go for it.”

chaewon shrugs. “i don’t really have a chance. it’s kinda fucked up,” she says. “liking her while pretending to be her girlfriend.”

“then stop pretending!” yena tells her, laughing. “be her girlfriend for re—”

chaewon drowns yena out by taking a drink.

“everything okay, mj?” chaewon asks. 

minju nods. “this is nice,” she says. “i’ve never really had—” she gestures randomly. “friends to do this with. in college.”

chaewon frowns. “that’s everyone’s loss,” she replies, because she can’t help herself. she turns her head to everyone else, busy with watching something on yuri’s phone and laughing at whatever it is. then turns back to minju and says, “they love you.”

minju gives a small smile. “i’m glad.”

“would you like to go to these more often?” chaewon asks. 

minju hums. chaewon picks up a slice of pizza and takes a bite. 

but then minju shuffles her feet, takes a step into chaewon. a part of the slice hits her face. chaewon loses her balance for a split second before resettling. 

“sorry!” minju holds her shoulders steady. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry—are you okay?”

chaewon waves a hand. “i’m fine.”

she looks up at minju. there’s a wrinkle between her brows and she’s chewing on her lip. one of her hands leaves chaewon’s shoulders. “you’ve got—”

her thumb wipes at chaewon’s cheek. she steps closer. 

chaewon’s breath hitches. they’ve been close to each other but not like this. minju’s perfume is familiar but not like this. minju’s hands are familiar but not like this. 

she closes her eyes. minju thumbs over chaewon’s face until there’s none left. 

“done,” minju says. 

chaewon blinks. minju’s so close. her eyes are honed straight in on hers. there’s an ache she can’t quite place. in her mouth. in her chest. at the tips of her fingers. 

being with minju had always been easy. 

except now. 

now, chaewon closes her hand hard enough for her fingernails to leave marks in the meat of her palm. now, her breaths don’t feel like they’re enough to keep her here. now, there’s a pain in her throat that she can’t swallow down. 

“chaewon! minju!” sungmin calls. “get over here!”

the moment shatters into pieces. chaewon clears her throat and calls back, “coming!”

chaewon drinks, after that. 

not too much. just for her skin to feel warm and the air to feel electric. eunbi’s got a keen eye on her the whole time, though, straight-mouthed and wary. 

they all start to head home soon enough. yuri goes first, and chaewon asks minju, “do you wanna go ahead?”

minju shakes her head. “i don’t know my way around.”

right. 

“but you’re getting tired?” 

minju shakes her head, but her answer is betrayed by the fact that she yawns. 

minju gives her a sheepish look. 

chaewon snorts. “c’mon,” she tells minju. “time to go.”

they get up, bid their goodbyes, and head for the door. something so mundane about them going through the motions together. 

“text when you get back!” yena calls after them, and chaewon answers, “we will!” before closing the door behind her. 

“i’m glad you had fun,” chaewon says. 

“i am, too.” minju smiles. 

“would you—would you come again?” chaewon asks. “if i invite you again, would you—”

minju laughs. “i’d love to.”

that’s enough for chaewon. she grins, stuffs her hands into her pockets, and they walk in silence. 

“this is me,” minju says, spinning on her heel at the front of her apartment building. 

“ah.” chaewon shifts on her feet. 

“thanks again, for tonight,” minju says. “movie again soon?”

chaewon looks at minju. there’s a kind, expectant look on her face, waiting for chaewon to answer. 

but the memory still burns. minju’s hand brushing on her cheek. her closeness. how chaewon’s eyes had fluttered close, how her heart had stuttered in her chest. 

a lot of memories burn. the memory of minju’s arm around her shoulder in a dark club. the memory of minju laughing at her in a café. the memory of minju making her breakfast, just a few floors above. the memory of minju reciting a poem to her in chaewon’s living room. 

there’s no one around. it’s quiet and it’s dark, and chaewon steps closer to minju. 

“chae?” minju asks. 

what’ll chaewon blame? the alcohol? her own foolishness? minju looking too lovely to bear?

she closes her eyes. steps closer again. takes minju’s face in her hands. 

chaewon kisses minju. 

she kisses minju, and it feels like quiet relief. she kisses minju and it’s gentler than anything she’s ever done before. she kisses minju. 

but then—

minju lets out a quiet squeak, putting a hand on chaewon’s waist. 

chaewon takes a sharp inhale. 

she pulls away. “fuck, mj—shit, i’m sorry—”

“chae—”

the world sharpens into focus. chaewon painfully sobers up. something in her chest twinges. 

“i’m—i don’t know what—”

“chaewon.”

chaewon can’t believe that she can bring this to dust so quickly. that she pushed everything down only to be snapped by a split second decision. minju still stands in front of her, puzzled and flushed, speechless. 

“you can—fuck.” chaewon buries her face in her hands and taps her forehead with the heel of her hand. “i’m sorry—i had a bit to drink—”

“chaewon.”

“you—you have a good night, minju,” chaewon says. takes a deep inhale. “have a good night.”

chaewon squeezes her eyes shut. she doesn’t know if she can look at minju at this moment. 

chaewon turns around, and walks away. 

***

chaewon’s good at this. chaewon’s so good at it that she can call it a talent. a specialty. 

she remembers it. of course she remembers it. if she closes her eyes long enough she can still taste minju’s mouth in hers. 

but she can throw herself into schoolwork. she can remove 10 things from her dvd shelf. she can mute notifications from minju. she can avoid all the places they’ve gone to together. 

she can pretend to forget about it hard enough she can convince herself that she forgot it altogether. 

that’s what she’s good at, after all. pretending to be something and then just blowing it out of proportion. 

***

it’s like her first year all over again. 

okay, not really. 

after two weeks the semester winds down to the point where chaewon’s schoolwork isn’t enough to keep her busy anymore. and of course, with chaewon falling back to old habits, she can’t think of anything else to turn to. 

she doesn’t go out, though. 

instead she buys out a shelf at the convenience store just outside campus and keeps it in her kitchen. drinks enough to leave her with no choice but to fall asleep, and barely gets up on time the next day. 

sometimes, she has enough presence of mind to find how ridiculous it is that she’s this affected over a single, stray mistake. 

sometimes, she thinks about how minju’s doing. does she hate chaewon? does she not think about it all?

that’s when chaewon takes it as her cue to fill up her cup and down it again. 

“i’m staging an intervention.”

chaewon frowns. “go away.”

“not a chance,” eunbi says. “you’ve been coming to this class wearing sunglasses for two weeks.”

“and?”

“and i’m about to die from the secondhand embarrassment. this class is at two in the afternoon.”

chaewon squeezes her eyes shut. eunbi’s too loud. everything’s too loud. “then die.”

“bitch.” eunbi pinches her arm. “you’re coming with me after this.”

“i don’t want to.”

“well, want to. you’re coming. i have a shift. my treat.”

eunbi works part-time at a bakery. her shift isn’t for another hour and a half, so she drags chaewon to an empty table and sets down two croque monsieurs. 

“what the hell is happening with you?” eunbi asks. “you fixed this. you were doing well.”

chaewon takes a bite and shrugs. “creature of habit.”

“did your parents call?”

chaewon glares. 

eunbi backs off. “my bad, my bad,” she says. “i just don’t know what else could get you like this.”

chaewon stays quiet. eats her sandwich and tries to endure the headache that’s coming on. 

“chae, can you please just—just talk to me?” eunbi places a hand on hers. voice less agitated. “i’m worried. i just—i don’t want to see you like that again.”

chaewon frowns. “it’s not that big of a deal. i’ll be over it soon.”

“tell me anyway?”

eunbi had done a lot for her, after that first year. eunbi was definitely a part of why chaewon was able to straighten herself out. 

but how will she fix this?

“i kissed minju,” chaewon mumbles. 

eunbi blinks. “that’s—”

“bad,” chaewon exhales. “it’s bad, eunbi. she didn’t—she wasn’t interested in it, didn’t ask for it, or anything, i just—did it. drove another person away from me.”

“ chae ,” eunbi scolds. 

“no—see. listen.” chaewon swallows the lump in her throat that threatens her to cry. breathes in. “i spend that entire year trying to make up for the fact that my parents cut me off for going all the way here and choosing film. forget everything. start new. i dress up and fuck around. no one—not a single one of them made me feel like i don’t have to pretend. they all wanted the kim chaewon. they all got tired once i showed an ounce of having a personality outside getting wasted every week. 

not minju. minju watches my fucking movies with me. minju’s been taking care of me for months and never got tired. minju’s been there and it was nice and i ruined it all.”

chaewon catches her breath. eunbi watches her. hasn’t made that expression with chaewon in a long time—the hurt and concern. 

“it’s a kiss, chae,” eunbi whispers. “minju—minju wouldn’t be mad at you over a kiss.”

“she wouldn’t,” chaewon agrees. “what she would be mad over is the fact that i’ve been asking her to pretend to be my girlfriend while having feelings for her. that’s fucked up. that’s creep behavior.”

“you didn’t mean for it to be.”

“does that matter?”

“why don’t you find out?”

“and hear it from minju herself? that she doesn’t appreciate that i’ve been taking advantage of her for the sake of my own feelings?”

“she could say something else! minju’s an adult. she can handle a friend having a crush on her and be civil.”

chaewon raises an eyebrow. “you think that’ll save me from drinking every night?”

eunbi gets a solemn expression on her face. does nothing but stare at chaewon, for a few seconds. 

her voice is lowered when she answers, “you know what, chae? yeah. as long as minju’s in your life.”

chaewon snorts. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know if you noticed, chae, but she calms you down,” eunbi says. “you ditched a party to hang out with her. you watched what you drank at yena’s because she was around. you never got like this—” eunbi gestures at chaewon’s appearance, “—since the two of you started your arrangement. yena told me it was november last year?”

chaewon nods. 

“i’ve only seen you with her twice, but i’ve never seen you act the way you do when you’re around her anywhere else.” eunbi tightens her hand around chaewon’s. “she’s good for you.”

the million-dollar question, spilling out of chaewon’s mouth: “but am i good for her?”

eunbi shrugs. “there’s only one way to find out.”

eunbi shoves her way into chaewon’s apartment that night. 

“jesus christ,” she mutters, spotting the bottles. “at least you’re still able to keep the place clean.”

“thanks?” 

“i thought i’d have to do a renovation, honestly.”

“don’t get ahead of yourself,” chaewon says. she sets down her things. “you’re getting the couch.”

“i would have never assumed otherwise.” eunbi smiles at her. “ooh—can i have your gummy bears?”

chaewon nods. “go ahead.”

eunbi picks up the half-eaten pack and puts one in her mouth. “you’re not setting a foot within a meter of your little stash there, by the way.”

“i got it, i got it,” chaewon drawls. 

she soaks for a few minutes in the bath, heads back to her room, lights a scented candle, and falls asleep. 

***

it all goes to hell the next morning. 

by some miracle, chaewon wakes up earlier than eunbi. she heads to her fridge and the box of drinks that’s usually there has disappeared, no doubt thanks to eunbi. her gatorades are untouched, though, so she opens one and drinks it. 

she settles at her table and busies herself with her phone, shuffling through all her apps. 

an hour goes by of just that, until chaewon hears a knock on her door. 

chaewon ignores it, frowning. 

but then after a few seconds, it comes again. 

“who the fuck,” chaewon mutters under her breath. she groans, heading to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open.

she almost drops her bottle to the floor. 

minju. 

“chaewon,” minju greets. “hey.”

“hi. um—” chaewon flexes her hands. “um, what are you doing here?”

“yena told me to come over?” she replies, shy little laugh afterward. “i don’t know why she did, but i’m here.” minju shrugs. 

chaewon can only look at her. it frustrates her, how vulnerable she already is. minju’s hair is undone and she looks like she just crawled out of bed, but chaewon hasn’t seen her in so long that there’s an ache in her throat anyway. minju’s standing there and talking to her as if nothing happened, and chaewon can’t decide whether she’s thankful for it or not. 

“can i—can i come in?”

“oh.” of course, chaewon and all her manners, had only been staring. “just—hold on—”

chaewon’s so flustered that she accidentally knocks over her shoe rack, and it crashes to the floor. chaewon curses under her breath and moves to fix it back up, and in the corner of her vision it looks like minju’s about to help her, until—

“chae?” eunbi’s voice comes. “you okay?”

minju freezes.

chaewon looks up. there’s a stricken, confused expression on minju’s face, her jaw slack. 

“chae?” eunbi calls again. 

chaewon gets up and looks back at her. eunbi’s in nothing but the hoodie chaewon lent her last night, getting up from the couch. minju’s just out of her line of sight, the door and chaewon angled to block her. 

“yeah.” chaewon finishes arranging her shoes. “just a minute!”

chaewon steps outside into the hall, closing her door behind her. 

“was that—was that eunbi?” minju asks. 

“yeah. she stayed the night.”

it’s the truth. it’s the truth but it’s vague enough. 

chaewon can gather the situation. if she was minju—here in front of her was a girl who kissed her, disappeared for two weeks, and then the next time she sees her there’s another girl in her apartment wearing her clothes. 

chaewon sees it all in minju’s face. 

“i’m—i’m sorry for coming at an inconvenient time, then.”

a part of chaewon wants to explain. it isn’t like that, maybe, or, she’s just taking care of me. 

instead, chaewon lets minju work it out for herself. good, she thinks. good. all she’ll do is hurt minju, anyway—might as well do it all the way so minju never gives her a chance. so minju doesn’t let her kindness get the better of her. so she’ll see how much better her life is without chaewon in it. 

“don’t worry about it.” chaewon knows how to put on a smile. to remove everything she feels from her body. 

“i’ll see you another time?”

chaewon shrugs. “sure.”

she’d be lying if she said it didn’t hurt. her heart twists in her chest. this may be the last time she sees minju. the last time she sees minju, and it’s like this. the only person in the world that she’s willing to let in all the way. 

and maybe that’s why she does the opposite. push her as far as she can go. 

“alright, then.” minju swallows. fiddles with the sleeves of her shirt. “alright. bye.”

chaewon bites the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste metal in her mouth. “bye.”

“was that minju?”

chaewon looks up from where she’s gargling at her kitchen sink. “how’d you know?”

“i didn’t have her number, so i told yena to ask her to come over.”

chaewon had been so surprised to see minju that she totally forgot to register why minju had shown up in the first place. “you what?”

“i knew you’d never go to her first, so that was my only option.”

chaewon only stares at her, setting the glass she was using down on the counter. 

“why? what—” eunbi purses her lips. “where’d she go? did you guys arrange to talk?”

chaewon doesn’t answer. 

“chaewon.” eunbi’s voice grows stern. 

“she saw you,” chaewon says. “put the wrong pieces together.”

eunbi looks like she’s about to laugh, for a second, until chaewon sees the realization dawn on her face. like she’d just put the pieces together, too. 

“what did you say?” eunbi asks, and she sounds scared. 

chaewon doesn’t answer again. 

“chaewon,” eunbi says and steps closer. “what did you say?”

chaewon does her best to keep her face blank. 

“chaewon.” this time eunbi shoves chaewon on the shoulder. chaewon takes a step backward to regain her balance. eunbi’s voice drops. “what did you say?”

“if it’s worth anything,” eunbi says to her, just before she leaves, “yena and i are sorry.”

chaewon looks at her. “it’s okay,” she says, and finds herself meaning it. 

***

chaewon’s gotten like this, once or twice. 

where she kind of just … disengages. 

eunbi still comes and sleeps over, on occasion. yena, too. 

otherwise chaewon lives her life pretty much on autopilot. drifts through it. her days boiled down to routine and not much else. 

weeks pass until it’s the last of the semester. chaewon writes her critiques, takes her finals in her classes that require one. 

her life goes into desaturated, monotonous lull.

the day before the semester ends, though, it seems the universe decided to flip it all around. as if it had taken all of the tediousness of chaewon’s life, spun it on its heel, and returned it to her full-force.

she’s at the front steps of the arts and letters building when a voice shouts, “you’re kim chaewon!”

a flash of heat behind her eyes. not this again. she turns around.

two girls who don’t look like they’re from around here, going off how they dress. colleges like this, everyone gets a sense of what a student looks like. the girls in front of chaewon don’t fit.

“what’s it to you?” chaewon asks.

one of them scoffs. when she steps closer, something at the back of chaewon’s head calls.

“some hot shit you are!”

it clicks. it clicks in chaewon’s head. the girl screaming at her right now is ahn yujin. minju’s ahn yujin. chaewon recognizes her from the visits she used to pay to minju’s social media.

what the hell was ahn yujin doing here?

and—

“who the hell allowed you to talk to me like that?” chaewon fires back, tilting her head. 

“i don’t need to be allowed to,” yujin says. “you’ve been an absolute piece of shit to minju. that’s all i need.”

“yujin,” the other girl calls. the girlfriend, probably. 

chaewon sighs. “and what about it?”

yujin looks stunned, for a few seconds. stares at chaewon coldly. then scoffs again and tells chaewon, “at least you’re self-aware.”

“thank you.” chaewon sets her jaw. “now, if that’s all—”

“oh no you don’t,” yujin warns, shaking her head. “if you don’t want her in your life you better tell her.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” chaewon asks. 

“was it fun? using her as a plaything? pretending?” yujin is vicious, anger palpable even to chaewon. “it must have been nice, having her at your beck and call. then tossing her once you got tired.”

chaewon narrows her eyes. “you don’t know me.”

“i know you enough, and i know minju,” yujin spits. “the only boyfriend minju’s had cheated on her. twice. only kept her around because she did everything he asked. she’s not going through that again. you don’t get to kiss her and disappear, and then take her back once you decide you want a toy again.”

chaewon’s hand curls into a fist. despite everything, an anger bubbles up in her, too—not at yujin, but the boy. 

(and maybe at herself, too.)

yujin steps closer. “minju still thinks she’s the one who did something wrong, and she won’t—” 

she cuts herself off, lets out a laugh. 

“she was applying to transfer to another university, did you know that? and now she’s not pushing through with it.”

chaewon feels the wind get knocked out of her. 

minju—

“what?” chaewon chokes out. 

yujin seems to be taken by surprise, at that, taking a step back. her girlfriend still waits behind her, worrying. 

minju’s always been too smart for this place. chaewon’s always known that. a transfer makes sense, so—

“why—” chaewon licks her lips. “why isn’t she pushing through?”

“beats me.” yujin’s voice is calmer now. “but i bet it has something to do with you. she feels guilty. talk to her and fix it. tell her she did nothing wrong and it’s all your fault.”

chaewon grinds her teeth. of course in her efforts to get minju away from her she ends up trapping her all the same. everything’s fucked up. 

“c’mon, wonyoung,” yujin says, turning around. wonyoung takes her hand and they walk away. 

chaewon needs—something. anything. 

eunbi and yena are already vacationing, their semester being shorter than chaewon’s, this time around. 

she has no choice. she texts a number she hasn’t in years. a friend of sungmin’s. 

and if it’s vacation time, it means—

anywhere i can go tonight? 4:01pm

wow 4:04 pm

he sends the address just a few seconds later. 

chaewon heads home. she’ll have to get ready. 

it’s been a while. 

it’s comforting and feels strange at the same time. stretching out a muscle she hasn’t used. bass and bodies. 

it’s also both a disaster and a success. depending on how you look at it. 

every time someone approaches her she accepts. no one to deter themx with anymore. ends up making out with them eventually, until chaewon stops because all she can think of is that they’re nothing like—

she drinks. a lot. more than she’s used to. accepts every offer for one. finishes her cups indiscriminately. 

just tonight. just tonight. 

later into the night she decides to leave whoever’s place that was for a club. 

a need for the brighter lights. or maybe to be more of a stranger. 

by some miracle, she gets there in one piece. muscle memory?

it ends up being sort of a repeat. she accepts every drink bought for her. she keeps her place at the bar, and on occasion she spots the bartender throwing her looks of concern. 

she stays, and drinks. 

and stays, and drinks. 

and stays, and drinks. 

“think that’s enough for you,” the bartender says, taking chaewon’s glass from her. 

chaewon only groans. her head feels like it’s filled with lead. she lays it on the counter—which is probably gross, but she can’t be bothered to care. 

“we close in forty-five minutes,” he tells chaewon. there’s pity in his voice that only serves to irk her. 

“i’ll— fuck.” chaewon inhales. “i’ll go by then.”

she hears a thunk. chaewon lifts her head—she’s being given a glass of water. the condensation outside of it almost opaque. chaewon downs it, feels herself wake up a bit. 

“do you need a ride home?” a voice behind her asks. older. a guy. 

chaewon groans again. still?

the bartender mouths at her, regular. 

chaewon rolls her eyes. she lifts a hand. “i’m—”

“taken care of, thank you,” another voice comes. “ready to go home, babe?”

chaewon’s eyes widen. she wakes up a bit more. nothing could have probably sobered her up faster than—

she sits up. turns around in her stool. 

minju’s smiling at her. “come on,” she says, tilting her head toward the door. 

chaewon doesn’t really have many options, and minju is in front of her. 

she gives in. 

minju calls them a cab. 

the ride is quiet. minju sits shotgun while chaewon tries to sober herself up at the back. she tries to check whether she’d texted minju—her messages say otherwise. she hadn’t texted anyone since that afternoon. 

chaewon ends up falling asleep, anyway. 

when chaewon wakes up, it’s to minju’s voice and her nudging her shoulder. 

“c’mon,” she tells chaewon. “we’re here.”

chaewon blinks awake. to a headache, because to what else?

the sun rose during the trip. chaewon has just enough coherence to gather that they’re in front of minju’s apartment building and not hers. 

minju’s hands are almost too gentle. holding chaewon by the shoulders as if she’ll shatter into pieces. 

to minju’s credit, that’s exactly how chaewon feels. 

they still don’t talk. chaewon doesn’t really know what to say. or doesn’t trust her own mouth. 

they arrive at her room. minju hands her another glass of water. chaewon finishes it. minju hands her a change of clothes. chaewon puts it on. minju leads her to her bed. chaewon wants to protest for the couch, but ends up falling into the mattress.  

***

chaewon wakes up and it’s deja vu. 

minju’s apartment. a terrible hangover. in minju’s clothes. on minju’s bed. 

everything smells like her. chaewon aches. 

she steps outside to minju’s living room. the light is a different color from last time; dusk instead of morning. minju’s standing by her fridge instead of seated at her couch. 

“hi,” minju greets, close-mouthed smile. “how are you feeling?”

chaewon can only bite on her lip. 

“how’d you find me?” chaewon asks instead. 

“took a while,” minju replies, turning her back on her and opening her fridge. she grabs a bottle of water and then heads for her kitchen cupboard. she comes away with an aspirin and heads toward chaewon. “sungmin found out from his friend where you were, but when he asked around again you were gone. he messaged yena that he couldn’t find you, and, well—yena asked me to find you instead. good thing i did.”

chaewon takes the medicine. swallows it down. “no,” she replies. “how did you find me? ”

minju regards her. “went everywhere, chae,” she says, scratching the back of her head. “it wasn’t easy.”

chaewon flexes her hand. close, open. another thing minju had to do for her. her next words spill out before she can stop herself. “ahn yujin talked to me.”

minju takes a moment before saying, “i know.” 

“she told me—” chaewon inhales. sets down the glass on the closest surface she can reach; minju’s kitchen counter. “why?”

minju furrows her brows. “why what?”

chaewon doesn’t answer, for a while. 

“do you feel sick?” minju asks, and chaewon feels herself snap. 

“i’m—look at me,” chaewon says, all her strength leaving her. here is the girl whom she only knows how to hurt. who she keeps in a cruel circle. “you should—you should stop taking care of me. i’m ruining your life.”

something shifts in minju’s gaze, then. they’re not tiptoeing anymore. they’re not feigning lightness. 

“then tear it to pieces,” minju replies. 

chaewon’s throat goes dry. 

“tear it to pieces, kim chaewon,” minju tells her. “if being with you—”

“what are you talking about? ”

“i’ll take care of you,” minju says, eyes darting. “just—just let me in.”

chaewon frowns, shakes her head. “you don’t want that. you don’t know me.”

“i know that you’re the first person who made an effort to remember my name,” minju says. “that first night. remember?”

chaewon scoffs. “that’s ridiculous. i’m sure a bunch of your classmates—”

“i try to keep to myself, but you somehow remembered me anyway,” minju says. “i know you don’t only want me around just because i help you out, no matter what yujin says. i know your favorite movies. i know how you take your iced tea. i know that you get talkative after four drinks, then touchy after five. i know how you always text when you get home. i know that i couldn’t stop thinking about you after you kissed me.”

there’s that feeling again. of her breath being stolen from her, or stuck in her chest, or put in minju’s hands. 

“mj,” is all she can croak out. 

“you—i never knew what it was like,” minju says. “to be treated to coffee every few weeks. to be invited to a movie. to be walked home.”

minju takes a deep breath. “it may sound stupid, kim chaewon, but i never feel as special as i do whenever i’m around you.”

chaewon digs the heels of her hands onto her eyelids. “your transfer—”

“i declined it because they wouldn’t accept my credits, ” minju says, firm. “yujin wouldn’t listen. i didn’t want to start as a freshman all over again.”

chaewon looks at minju. her fingers are trembling. 

“mj,” chaewon says again. 

“i talked to eunbi, too,” minju says, “while we were trying to look for you.”

chaewon nods. “yeah. she’s—we’re—”

“i know,” minju says. 

chaewon sighs. “i had to push you away, mj, i just—all i’ll do is hurt you. all i’ve done is hurt you.”

“have you not listened to a single thing i said?”

“is that supposed to make up for how i’ve been treating you lately?”

“did you mean it?” minju asks, voice rising. “did you shove me away because you were tired of me? did you disappear on me because you didn’t want me in your life anymore?”

chaewon pauses before saying, “no,” voice lowered. 

“stop deciding what’s good for me, chae,” minju tells her. “i can do that for myself. i want you, whether you like it or not.”

there it is. there it is, all for chaewon to hear. 

“you mean that?” chaewon asks. 

“i unfortunately do, you stubborn hardhead,” minju replies. 

“i just—well, i want you, too.” chaewon swallows. “if that wasn’t clear.”

“i mean, it wasn’t, for a while.” minju smiles. “kissing me and then vanishing into thin air.”

“i was miserable,” chaewon replies. 

“so i’ve heard.”

“i just.” chaewon sighs again. “i just never would have thought.”

“i didn’t, either,” minju says. “until you kissed me.”

“but you’re—” chaewon tries to find the words. “ everything, and i’m an asshole.”

minju shrugs. “you can always just make up for it.”

chaewon scoffs, rolls her eyes. 

“i’m serious,” minju says. “how about—i’ll kiss you, and you promise not to run away?”

chaewon lets out a laugh, at that. “that’s—”

minju steps closer and puts her hands by the sides of chaewon’s neck. chaewon lets out a noise from the back of her throat. 

minju’s kissing her and it’s totally different from last time. minju’s kissing her and chaewon can feel everything. the clumsiness of their mouths, her heartbeat in her ears. chaewon settles her hands on minju’s hips. minju’s kissing her and chaewon’s never been this nervous about kissing anyone before. minju’s kissing her and chaewon’s never felt such a need to make it good for the both of them. 

they pull apart. 

“right here,” chaewon murmurs, only for minju to hear. breathless. “not going anywhere.”

minju grins and kisses her again. 

“since when?” minju asks. 

they’d moved to minju’s couch at some point. chaewon has a hand on minju’s knee because she needs some form of tether to keep her from floating away. “i was only sure after the first night i spent here. could have been before that, though.”

minju smiles at her, and chaewon sees the flush that forms on her cheeks. 

maybe it’s what gives her the courage to say, “i remembered you in that lit class because i thought you were pretty.”

minju raises a brow. “oh, really, now?”

chaewon nods and looks to her lap. she wants to match minju’s teasing but can’t, the memory unfurling in her head like a flower and just as fragile. “i was earlier than you one time.” she holds up a finger. “i never knew we shared that class ‘til i saw you walk in. i remember thinking you were pretty, and then i finally got your name when you were called to answer a question. i didn’t think much of it then, though.”

when she looks back at minju, her expression has completely changed. chaewon doesn’t want to call it awe but it’s the closest she can get. “and now?” minju asks. 

chaewon snorts. “now—now i’m so scared of the thought of you hating me that i decide to avoid you for weeks instead of talking to you like a normal person.”

it’s minju’s turn to not match chaewon. something in her jaw works before she says, “after the first time—with taeho. remember?”

“yeah.”

“i couldn’t—i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” minju swallows. “so when i found out you were going somewhere again—from yena’s instagram. i, uh. went without thinking about it.”

chaewon blinks. she always found it wonderfully coincidental minju was there twice in a row for her. “what?”

“also i watched princess bride ten times these past weeks. i counted.”

chaewon breaks out into laughter, then, but promptly stops herself with a hand to her mouth. “i’m sorry?”

minju nods. “i just—i missed you. it was all i could do.”

chaewon lurches forward and takes minju’s lips in hers because she doesn’t know what else to do. tries to say everything through that. tries to apologize; tries to show minju just how desperately she had missed her, too; tries to show minju how she thinks that minju still wanting this with chaewon is nothing short of a miracle. 

she kisses minju and she’s not sure if she wants to do anything else. 

though yena calls her, just a little later. 

“hello?” chaewon stands and walks to a corner of minju’s living room. 

“oh, thank god,” her voice comes. “minju take you home?”

“i’m at, uh,” chaewon swallows. “i’m at hers, actually.”

“i see,” yena replies. there’s a pause before she adds, lowly, “don’t scare me like that again.”

chaewon spots minju in the corner of her vision, taken up in a book. “i won’t,” chaewon answers. 

as if sensing the attention on her, minju lifts her head to look at chaewon. she smiles at her. 

yena laughs. “you sound like this call is the last thing you want to do.”

“i haven’t even said anything!”

“exactly,” yena says. 

chaewon purses her lips. has nothing to say when she’s caught like that. 

“did you guys work things out?” yena asks. 

minju’s gone back to her book. chaewon answers, “we’re—not yet done. but i think we’ll be okay.”

“you haven’t eaten yet,” minju says when chaewon hangs up, taking chaewon by the wrist and dragging her to her table. she hands chaewon a banana before heading to her stove to make something. from what chaewon can tell it’s just ramen. 

chaewon isn’t particularly hungry but also can’t remember the last time she had something to eat. she finishes the banana in a few seconds and puts her peel in a bin adorably labeled biodegradable before heading back to her seat. 

minju finishes just a couple minutes later, sets the pot in the middle of their table and hands chaewon a bowl. 

“eat lots,” she tells chaewon. 

chaewon scrunches her nose. “thanks,” she says, and takes a portion for herself. 

they eat in silence, for a while, until minju says, “i’m sorry about yujin.”

chaewon’s taken aback for a moment. “you shouldn’t be,” she replies. “and i’m glad you have someone who’ll stick up for you like that.”

minju winces. “she won’t like that i decided to help you out again.”

“i can imagine.”

of all the things minju had told her earlier, one thing stuck to chaewon, bothered her. minju bringing up yujin reminds her. 

“mj,” she calls. 

“yeah?”

chaewon struggles with her words. “when you—you said you don’t feel special when you’re—you feel special when you’re with me.”

minju’s cheeks are puffed when she nods. 

“you shouldn’t—lots of people can be nice to you,” chaewon says. “i don’t want this happening.” chaewon gestures, “just because you think i’m nice to you.”

“that’s not really what i meant.” minju’s brows furrow. 

“then?”

“i always thought all my relationships had to be skewed one-way,” minju explains. “i always thought i’d have to be the one who was more involved. more invested. and i was fine with it. i came to terms with it.”

chaewon nods, slow, urging her on. she’d always been scared of minju being too kind for her own good. 

“then you come along,” she says, “and i find out that it doesn’t have to be that way. that someone can make me feel how i usually want others to feel when i’m with them.”

chaewon chews on her lip. she doesn’t know what to say. she feels split open and vulnerable in the few seconds it takes for minju to tell her. 

“i like you, chaewon, and i think it’s really nice that you like me, too,” she says. it sounds so mundane that chaewon wonders if minju knows how struck the words make chaewon feel. “that’s all.”

chaewon nods and swallows her food. “okay,” she says. “okay.”

after eating and cleaning up, chaewon says, “i think i need to head home, mj.”

minju doesn’t even look up from where she’s fixing the couch when she says, “your clothes are still drying. you’re going to shower, we’re gonna put on a movie, and you’ll go home tomorrow after buying me coffee.”

and what choice does chaewon have?

minju ends up falling asleep in the middle of ocean’s eleven, and chaewon doesn’t blame her. her sleep schedule must have been shot with picking up chaewon at dawn. 

in an exchange of roles, it’s chaewon’s turn to lift minju up and help her to bed. it takes some strength, but she manages it. 

when chaewon walks back toward the door, though, she hears minju grumble, “here.”

chaewon turns around. “what was that?”

minju pats the spot of bed beside her and pulls at the duvet. “here,” she says. 

chaewon follows and lies down beside her. 

minju falls asleep again pretty much immediately, chaewon noticing the slowness of her breaths. 

chaewon feels such an inexplicable, sparkling happiness that it takes hours for her to fall asleep. 

***

chaewon thinks that every time they get coffee it’s always after some seismic shift. 

today minju lines up with her instead of grabbing a seat like she usually does. she has a finger laced in one of chaewon’s the entire time and only lets go when they sit across from each other. 

“where are you going for the summer?” minju asks. 

“staying here,” chaewon says, dryly. she shakes her cup. “lots of fun.”

she figures she’ll have to tell minju about her family someday. another time. 

“i’ll be going home, but.” there’s a nervous chew of her lip before minju adds, “i only live forty-five minutes away.”

chaewon grins. 

***

her summer starts, and chaewon never knew she could feel like this. 

she feels like everything hinges on minju but it’s okay because minju never makes a misstep. being with minju is so easy but chaewon feels so engulfed by her that she swears she’s drowning. but she’s not. 

she helps minju pack but it goes awfully slowly because chaewon can’t help but kiss her every three minutes. 

minju calls her when she arrives back at her home and the way she does it makes chaewon feel like she’s been doing it for years. asks chaewon if she’s had dinner, complains about all the dust that’s piled up, apologizes for the ruckus her siblings are making. chaewon wishes she could see it. 

minju calls her every morning and sends her typo-laden messages because she hadn’t put on her contacts yet. does this until chaewon’s sleep schedule rights itself. 

one day she drags yujin and wonyoung over to campus to have them apologize. yujin does so reluctantly chaewon takes it as a start. wonyoung does so profusely and promises to wrangle baby pictures of minju from yujin and send them to chaewon as compensation. chaewon also finds out that yujin only knew where to find her that day because minju had seen chaewon going to the library one afternoon and slowly figured out from then how often and when she does. 

after yujin and wonyoung leave minju and chaewon head to chaewon’s place together. they order pizza and try to pick up ocean’s again but chaewon discovers minju’s neck is ticklish and can’t get enough of her laugh. 

minju takes her out to dinner one night and chaewon takes a picture of her from across the table. she posts it and writes, torn to pieces.

yena and eunbi pester her to bring minju again to another get-together. it’s the same people and the same games but it’s completely different because minju’s head is leant on chaewon’s shoulder the entire time. yena makes gagging faces when minju isn’t looking and chaewon sticks out a tongue at her. 

minju keeps on stealing chaewon’s shirts whenever she comes over and chaewon scolds her every time, but all it does is spur minju on. 

chaewon always takes her time before she kisses minju because minju always makes this surprised, short little inhale and chaewon likes watching how her eyes flutter closed and how she smiles just before. 

minju will sometimes send her poetry excerpts she finds and chaewon always finds herself caught between thinking they’re too cheesy or they’re almost heartbreakingly romantic. minju always tells her her favorite lines, though, and sometimes she’ll say this reminded me of you .

chaewon sends her a tweet from a gossip magazine saying that zendaya is single and adds: sorry mj, i gotta go grab my chance. minju only sends her a thumbs up in reply and chaewon asks: is that alright? and minju only sends another thumbs up. chaewon realizes how far gone she is when minju doesn’t message for ten minutes and the messages chaewon fires off next are: mj?, mj, i was joking, it was a joke, i’m sorry, minju, babe, kim minju. 

everything with minju is so easy yet somehow earth-shattering all the same. 

one night, they go to a beach party. 

chaewon’s not too fond of the sea but minju is. there’s a flower in her hair and chaewon realizes how settled she is when it occurs to her that she hasn’t had a single drink. it’s almost 11. 

eunbi was right. 

chaewon just feels it would be such a shame to miss the smile on minju’s face. 

what really carves it into chaewon—that everything is the same but irreversibly changed—is when someone approaches them and asks minju, “can i get you a drink?”

minju, not missing a beat, puts her hand around chaewon’s waist and says, “only if you’ll get my girlfriend one, too.”

on their way back, chaewon says, “summer’s almost ending.”

months flying by over their heads, running through their fingers like seawater, like sand. “yeah,” minju replies. 

“looking forward to the semester?” 

minju frowns, seems to contemplate it for a minute. then says, “i don’t know why, but i have a feeling it’s going to be the most exciting i’ve had.”

there’s a sweet, toothy smile on minju’s face. chaewon returns it but finds it so odd. how she gives minju thrill, she gives minju adventure, but what minju gives her—

“what about you?” minju asks. 

chaewon takes minju’s hand in hers. walks with her like that, fingers laced together. “i think—”

she grips minju’s hand tighter in hers. turns to face her. chaewon doesn’t feel watched, or looked at, or evaluated, or being figured out. just seen. 

“i think i’ll finally start being who i am.”