I.
The first time Heejin tries to confess to Hyunjin, her heart definitely doesn’t race, she’s definitely not sweating, and most of all she is not a Panicked Gay - she’s Calm, Cool, and Collected, thank you very much.
Yeah, no.
The first time Heejin tries to confess to Hyunjin, she’s a Hot Mess. Her hands quake as she dials Hyunjin’s number - she’s confessing via phone, only because they’re currently amidst a global pandemic, and not because she’s a socially anxious coward - and her throat suddenly seems to be devoid of any moisture entirely.
(She also may or may not be on verge of tears, but She’s Not Going To Talk About It.)
Heejin can see her roommate (and resident mom friend) Haseul struggling to repress her laughter as the phone rings, and Heejin is about two seconds away from chickening out altogether.
“Was this a bad idea?” she mouths to Haseul.
Haseul nods emphatically and gives Heejin a big thumbs up, mouthing, “You can do it!”
Heejin feels sick.
“Hello?”
Hyunjin’s clear, lyrical voice cuts through Heejin’s reverie, and the latter scrambles for something socially acceptable to say.
“Heejin? Why did you call me?”
“I- uh, um-”
“Is there something wrong? Oh my God, did you contract the virus? How are you holding up? Are you-”
“Hyunjin,” Heejin interrupts. “I don’t have the coronavirus.”
There’s a pause on the other end.
“That was a really stupid assumption, wasn’t it?”
Heejin shrugs. “I mean. Well. We are in the middle of a global pandemic, so it’s not that -” she cuts herself off, shaking her head. “But anyway. Um.”
Hyunjin’s mellifluous laughter fills Heejin’s ears, and it’s times like these when Heejin feels lucky to be alive, even if the world is literally crumbling around her.
“So why did you call me?”
Heejin’s heart feels like it’s going to leap out of her chest. “Well, uh. Hyunjin. I.”
“Oh?”
“I like mushrooms!” Heejin blurts out. Haseul claps a hand over her mouth, trying to muffle the peals of the laughter racking her body. Heejin glares at her, ignoring the incriminating blush creeping up her neck.
“You called me to tell me that you like mushrooms?” Hyunjin responds, mildly amused.
“Yeah, I just,” Heejin pauses, her brain scrambling to save the situation. “I really love mushrooms. Portobello, shiitake, that one that sounds like champagne… there are so many different types. I mean, who woulda guessed that mushrooms are a kind of fungus?”
“Fungus?” Hyunjin echoes, barely suppressing a laugh.
“Yeah!” Heejin exclaims enthusiastically. “Mushrooms are great!”
“Hey, Heejin?”
“Y-Yeah?”
“This was great and all, but I have to go,” Hyunjin giggles. “Have a good time with those mushrooms of yours.”
Heejin wilts, the hopeful smile on her face dropping. “Oh, um, yeah.”
“Bye!”
“Yeah, bye.”
Heejin waits for Hyunjin to hang up before slumping down in her chair, covering her burning face.
“I want to end myself,” she groans.
Haseul snickers. “I’m sure you do, but you gotta admit - that was hilarious.”
Heejin flips her roommate off in response.
Haseul pats Heejin’s shoulder placatingly. “It’s okay, Heeki. We’re on coronacation - you’ve got all the time in the world to pull yourself together and confess!”
Heejin does not want to put herself (or Hyunjin, for that matter) through emotional trauma she just went through again.
“How about we save that for never,” she helpfully suggests.
Haseul isn’t having it. “Hon, what better time are you going to get to confess?”
“...Never o’clock?”
“Jeon Heejin!”
“Sorry,” Heejin mutters, the fight draining out of her.
“You may be a bit of a socially awkward mess,” Haseul pauses, eyeing her roommate meaningfully, “but you’ve been pining after the girl for the last five years. Plus, Valentine’s Day is coming up. It’s perfect!”
It is so, so not perfect.
“Okay,” Heejin acquiesces tiredly. “Fine.”
“Great,” Haseul exclaims, clapping her hands. “You got this!”
“Yeah,” Heejin parrots, attempting to gain some semblance of a self-esteem. “I got this.”
“That’s right,” Haseul goads, “you got this! And even if you don’t, you got my special homemade jokbal."
Heejin simply glares at the former.
II.
Heejin has most definitely not got this. It’s D-Day, and if nothing, Heejin feels worse than she did the first time. However, she’s prepared in case of emergency: she’s got a fairly rigid script to read off of in case she freezes up again, with just about every eventuality she can think of accounted for, as well as a bunch of conversation starters in case the conversation goes awry.
(Haseul is ridiculously amused at the lengths to which Heejin goes for this, but she’s not one to judge. After all, she would be just as bad if she were confessing to her longtime crush.)
Mustering up the meager amount of courage she possesses, Heejin dials Hyunjin’s number, her heart pounding in anticipation. She revises her notes for the umpteenth time, attempting to memorize every conversation starter she has.
“Hello?”
It’s not Hyunjin’s voice.
Fuck.
It’s the one contingency that Heejin’s failed to account for.
What's Heejin supposed to do? There's nothing in her notes about this kind of situation.
Panic overwhelming her senses, Heejin blurts out the first conversation starter she sees on the list in front of her.
“What’s your favorite animal?” she nearly shouts.
“Um… what?”
“Your favorite animal,” Heejin repeats, internally cringing, with full knowledge of the fact that if Haseul hears this, she will never let her hear the end of this. Thank God her roommate is in the kitchen.
“Who is this?”
“But what’s your favorite animal?”
“What does that have to do with anything? Who is this?”
“Tell me your favorite animal,” Heejin blubbers hysterically.
The person on the other end hangs up.
Heejin wants to throw her phone out the window.
(Better yet, she should throw herself out the window. Maybe she’ll be able to properly confess to Hyunjin if she’s half high off hospital drugs.)
There’s a knock at Heejin’s door.
“I’m very sorry to say that you don’t got this,” comes Haseul’s disapproving voice from the other side.
“I know,” Heejin groans. “Why am I like this?”
Haseul enters the room, wiping her hands on her apron. She takes a seat at the foot of Heejin’s bed, and folds her arms across her chest.
“Heejin, that was quite possibly the most painful conversation I’ve ever heard in my life,” Haseul deadpans.
“It was that bad?”
“It was that bad,” Haseul affirms. Pitying Heejin’s downtrodden expression, however, Haseul gently adds, “It means you can improve, though. Besides, what was all that about favorite animals?”
Heejin’s face flushes red. “Hyunjin didn’t pick up the phone and I kinda maybe sorta panicked and read off the first conversation starter I could see on my list and the other person refused to answer but what was I supposed to do I mean I had to keep the conversation going so I kept asking them what their favorite animal was and-”
“Heejin.” Haseul cuts the former off. “Hyunjin didn’t pick up her phone?”
“No,” Heejin replies. “I didn’t recognize the voice.”
“Could you have maybe called the wrong number?”
Heejin lets out a drawn-out exhale of air, admitting, “That may be a possibility.”
Haseul smiles encouragingly. “You should call her again, then.”
Heejin shakes her head violently. “I’m not ready. There’s no way I’m ready. I mean, look at what just happened.”
Haseul sighs. “Well, I’ll be video calling her later if you want to join us.”
“Really?” Heejin’s eyes go impossibly wide. “Why?”
“We have a project together,” Haseul responds. “We’re also just going to catch up. We haven’t seen each other in forever, you know.”
“Oh,” Heejin says. “Okay.”
Haseul stands up, dusting off her apron, before addressing Heejin. “Get your act together, okay? You’re not going to get another opportunity like this.”
Heejin whimpers miserably in response. Haseul, taking that as her cue to leave, heads for the kitchen, and Heejin pulls out her laptop.
She’s going to make the best of the next couple hours.
III.
The second Heejin hears Hyunjin’s voice coming from Haseul’s tinny computer speakers, she feels all her preparation escaping her mind. Her only comprehensible thought is something along the lines of notice me, senpai. It’s a far (and very embarrassing) cry from anything she would ever say out loud, and she's thoroughly mortified that such an abomination would even cross her mind.
“Oh, hey, Heejin,” Haseul calls out to her, as they’d rehearsed earlier. “Come say hi to Hyunjin.”
Heejin’s stomach churns as she makes her way over to Haseul.
Plastering the biggest fake smile on her face, Heejin waves, exclaiming, “Hi, Jini!”
Hyunjin flashes Heejin her heart-melting smile. “Hi, Heejin! How are those mushrooms of yours?”
Heat rushes to Heejin’s face. “They’re, um, good. As always. Yeah.”
Hyunjin giggles, exchanging a look with her roommate. “I’m glad. I swear, living in quarantine is slowly destroying whatever sanity we have left.”
Heejin attempts to emulate Hyunjin’s delicate laugh, but hers is obnoxiously loud and sounds artificial, even to her own ears.
Haseul narrows her eyes at Heejin, her expression on the verge of being murderous, and turns back to Hyunjin. “I’m going to go make us a snack, but you guys keep talking.”
Once she’s out of the camera’s sight, Haseul mouths, “Don’t screw this up,” gesturing exaggeratedly to further validate her point. Then, as rehearsed, she walks into the kitchen to prepare the aforementioned snack.
Heejin’s only response is to look back down at Hyunjin, who’s passionately haranguing about how The Great Gatsby is very much gay but how her professor, apparently being the biggest homophobe of the century, refuses to accept or even acknowledge it. Heejin nods along, lost in all the jargon and obscure literary references Hyunjin’s using.
“But anyway, ignoring the rant, how have your online classes been coming along?” Hyunjin finally concludes.
“They’ve, uh, been okay,” Heejin answers. “I mean, I have less work to do overall.”
“Lucky,” Hyunjin sighs. “If anything, our professor is loading us up with even more work, since we apparently have more time on our hands now or something.”
“I’m sorry,” Heejin replies sympathetically. “That must suck.”
“Yeah,” Hyunjin sighs, running a hand through her hair.
Heejin nods solemnly, and realizes that the conversation has come to an impasse. Attempting to prevent an awkward silence, Heejin blurts out the first conversation starter she can think of.
“What’s your favorite animal?”
Heejin can hear Haseul facepalming in the kitchen, and feels a part of her soul leaving her body.
“Um, cats?” Hyunjin replies, slightly disconcerted.
Heejin kicks herself, because as Hyunjin’s best friend of five years, this is a fact that she is fully aware of.
“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know why I said that,” Heejin stammers, her face a raging inferno, running a mortified hand through her hair. “I, um. I have to go.”
Hyunjin’s smile dampens ever-so-slightly. “Okay, I’ll see you.”
“Bye,” Heejin whispers, and exits the call.
Groaning in frustration, Heejin melts into a pile of bitter disappointment on their old sofa.
“I’m officially an idiot sandwich,” she calls out to Haseul, who is emerging from the kitchen. “There’s no way I can confess to her now.”
“All in good time, my young grasshopper,” Haseul responds, bringing a much-needed tub of ice cream and a plate of jokbal over to Heejin.
“Until then, we feast.”
IV.
Heejin actively tries to avoid Hyunjin for approximately two weeks - which is admittedly harder than she’d thought; Hyunjin’s penchant for spamming Heejin 24/7 with mushroom memes is truly a force to be reckoned with. Haseul makes her life marginally easier by warning her when she and Hyunjin video call, and goes out grocery shopping whenever they need to replenish their stock of cup ramen and ice cream.
However, this means that Heejin hardly ever goes out anymore, and in turn, becomes somewhat of a vampire. As a result of her poor sleeping choices, her circadian rhythm becomes, well, arrhythmic, and she only ever leaves her room for ramen and ice cream. Her formerly golden-brown skin turns sallow and gaunt, as heavy bags line her eyes, and her hair becomes frizzy and stringy with misuse.
With her trusty tub of ice cream, Heejin watches every anime she can get her hands on. And when she runs out of the good animes, she switches over to K-Dramas.
(While staying up all night to binge Romance Is a Bonus Book is hardly something to be proud of, Heejin revels in the sweet glory of finishing an entire sixteen-episode drama in under twenty-four hours.)
But when Haseul falls sick one day, Heejin’s entire world comes crashing down around her. Anxiously, the pair await the return of her test results, and Heejin takes over Haseul’s former roles in their house. She fills her spare time - which was previously allotted to K-Drama binging - by learning to cook via surprisingly helpful YouTube videos, cleaning their small apartment, and checking the mail every day, in hopes of the test results.
It comes as a huge breath of relief when Haseul turns out to have nothing but the common cold, but seeing as she is still somewhat immunocompromised, Heejin continues to oversee their household chores that involve outside contact, such as their weekly grocery shopping trips.
It’s on one such trip that Heejin runs into the bane of her existence.
Their local grocery store strictly regulates its customer flow, which unfortunately means that thanks to all the panicking ahjummas, the lines extend for miles, and one would be very lucky to get their hands on a bottle of handwash. Or toilet paper. Or anything sanitation-related, really.
Unfortunately enough for Heejin, she and Haseul exhaust their last roll of toilet paper after rationing it out for an impressive month and a half, and she’s forced to devise a plan of attack in order to restock their supply.
To raise her chances of actually making it into the grocery store before any ahjummas show up to buy the aforementioned sanitary products in bulk, Heejin begrudgingly drags herself out of bed at the crack of dawn. It’s much, much before the store even opens, but Heejin doesn’t want to take any chances.
Heejin jams her earbuds in as she powerwalks to the grocery store, her stoic expression not at all reflecting the bubblegum pop she’s blasting. She takes time to appreciate the beauty of the rising sun, a molten orb of gold settling on the horizon, streaking the sky with warm hues of peach and magenta before blending out into the cooler blues of the pre-dawn sky.
It’s a great way to abate her irritation at having to wake up so early - until she sees the line of ahjummas in front of the store, each a standard six feet apart but literally, honest-to-god camping, with literal tents pitched up and fold-up chairs placed around for their comfort.
Heejin’s jaw drops.
She takes her place on the next available marker, taking care to distance herself from the maskless ahjumma in line before her, and pulls out her phone. If she’s going to have to suffer in line like this for the next couple hours, she might as well take a couple of aesthetic Instagram photos of the sunrise while she’s at it.
But as she lifts her phone up to take a picture, a familiar silhouette fills the camera, and Heejin lowers her phone incredulously, because-
Because it’s Hyunjin.
Time seems to freeze. All Heejin can see is how the watercolors of the sunrise paint a mellow backdrop behind the girl, and how the slight breeze teases her hair into a glamorous sweep. With a mask covering half her face, Hyunjin looks straight out of a coronavirus photoshoot, if such a thing were to exist.
Heejin wonders if she’s hallucinating. Or maybe she’s dreaming. Yeah, that sounds plausible - people have hyperrealistic dreams all the time, right?
But before Heejin can do anything remotely mortifying - thank God - Hyunjin tears her out of her reverie with a simple "Heejin?"
Heejin blinks once, tilting her head in bewilderment.
"Hyunjin?”
Hyunjin’s eyes curve into delighted crescents of recognition. “Heejin! Get over here, you recluse, I’ve literally been trying to get ahold of your ass for the last two weeks.”
Heejin prays that Hyunjin can’t see the blush adorning her face beneath the cloth face mask she’s wearing, and snorts. “Calm down, I can’t get too close. Haseul’s immunocompromised and all that.”
“Oh, that’s right, she called me earlier,” Hyunjin nods in understanding. “How’s she holding up?”
“Thankfully, all Haseul has is the common cold. She’s getting better, but we’re still taking precautions,” Heejin says, sobering.
Hyunjin hums sympathetically. “Yeah, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“How’s Kahei doing?” Heejin queries, definitely not at all salty that Hyunjin has a roommate that’s not her. “Is she going back to China, or…”
“I mean, with the travel ban and all, we’re kinda stuck together,” Hyunjin laughs, not unkindly.
Heejin forces a wan smile. “Ah. Nice.”
Hyunjin nods, pausing for a moment. “So, uh.”
“Yeah?” Heejin responds much too eagerly, kicking herself internally for her evident desperation.
“I kinda wanted to talk to you about something,” Hyunjin says cautiously, testing the waters.
“Sure, go ahead,” Heejin responds, her heartbeat quickening slightly in trepidation.
Hyunjin inhales, her eyebrows scrunching together. “I know we don’t really talk about this kind of stuff a lot…”
Heejin lifts an eyebrow.
“...but I kinda wanted to talk to you about it. Y’know, ‘cause you’re usually pretty logical when going about it, and all.”
“Okay,” Heejin presses her lips together.
“Basically, I like this girl.”
Heejin’s eyebrows shoot up, her breath catching in her throat. “I’m sorry, you what?”
Hyunjin puts her hands up. “Wait, don’t freak out on me yet, I promise you’re the first person I’ve told.”
“Not even Kahei?”
Hyunjin blushes. “I mean, well…”
Heejin’s stomach drops. ”Oh my God, no way.”
“Shut up,” Hyunjin bats at the former, her face coloring. “I didn’t come here to be attacked like this.”
“Hyunjin and Kahei, sitting in a tree~” Heejin crows, pushing her jealousy down into the depths of her stomach. “K-I-S-S-I-”
“Hey, I never said I liked Kahei- ”
“Well then who do you like?”
Hyunjin rolls her eyes, miffed, and this is normally the point where Heejin would stop. However, Heejin isn't about to act like her usual socially inept self now - there’s too much on the line.
"C'mon, tell me!" Heejin nudges Hyunjin a little too playfully, and Hyunjin’s body stiffens. Internally wincing, Heejin tries to mend it by adding, "Do I know her?"
Unfortunately for Heejin, it does absolutely nothing to amend the situation, and Hyunjin, shifting uncomfortably, speaks.
“Hey, why don’t we just-”
“Tell me~” Heejin cuts her off, drawing out the last syllable in an attempt to sound cute. In reality, it’s an annoyingly drawn-out whine, and Hyunjin just presses her lips together, her facial expression going rigid and plastic.
Heejin really wishes she could stop. Or that she’d stopped about ten minutes ago.
“It’s nobody that you have to worry about,” Hyunjin says smoothly.
Heejin feels even worse. “Sorry,” she mutters half-heartedly, and Hyunjin pats her arm placatingly. Heejin avoids eye contact and she and Hyunjin stand there awkwardly, fiddling their thumbs and tapping their feet.
“Hey, the line’s moving,” Hyunjin observes, her eyes widening in realization as she taps Heejin on the shoulder. “Heejin, the line’s moving!”
“It’s about time,” Heejin sighs, dutifully shuffling forward as the line inches forward at an excruciatingly slow pace. As customers are allowed into the store one at a time, Heejin resumes her small talk with Hyunjin, internally praying that the ahjummas haven’t wiped the store clean already.
Soon enough, Heejin and Hyunjin find themselves stepping inside the store, questioning both their sanity and life decisions.
Crazed ahjummas push along carts piled high with groceries, grabbing whatever they can, while some squabble over the aforementioned groceries. Frazzled employees attempt to break up disputes when they get physical, and despite the store literally just opening, some shelves lay barren.
“This is a bloodbath,” Heejin observes, surprisingly calm.
“No shit,” Hyunjin deadpans. “We’re literally about to get obliterated.”
“Well, it’s been nice knowing you,” Heejin turns to face Hyunjin. “I pray that we get out of here with some toilet paper.”
Hyunjin snorts, flicking her eyes over to Heejin, and swivels her eyes back to the chaos of the grocery store, heaving a sigh. “We’re either going to make a meticulous plan or we’re going to wing it.”
“I vote winging it,” Heejin offers, and Hyunjin nods resolutely.
“Winging it it is.”
Resisting the temptation to be swept by the chaos, the girls navigate their way through the store. It’s a herculean task, but by some miracle of nature, Heejin and Hyunjin find themselves in the toilet paper aisle before the day’s stock has run out.
Grabbing several rolls each, Heejin and Hyunjin high five each other in victory.
“I can’t believe we actually did it,” Heejin exclaims, beaming.
“I know, right?” Hyunjin sighs, eyeing their carts, then looks back at the shelves. “Wanna grab some more, just in case?”
Heejin raises an eyebrow. “Hyunjin, please don’t tell me you’re becoming an ahjumma.”
“I don’t know, I kinda understand their mentality now,” Hyunjin admits sheepishly. “Buy a ton while you can, right?”
“And make sure that nobody else gets any?”
“Touché,” Hyunjin responds. “But we’ve wasted enough time here. We need to get everything on our lists before the ahjummas empty the store.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
And so the pair takes off. Surveying the throng of greedy consumers, Heejin and Hyunjin dive in headfirst, bracing themselves for the onslaught. It’s a whirlwind of strategically weaving through the ahjummas and grabbing what they can, and in spite of it all, Heejin thinks it’s kind of fun.
When she and Hyunjin finally make it through the checkout line - ignoring the fact that they’re likely going to be in crippling debt for the next fifty years or so - Heejin breathes a huge sigh of relief, as if a large weight has been lifted off her chest. A wide, dimpled smile stretches across Heejin’s face, and despite the weight of the numerous grocery bags, she lifts her arms up in victory.
“We did it!” Heejin crows to no one in particular. “We beat the ahjummas!”
“Shut up, you’re being embarrassing,” Hyunjin hisses, but not without an endeared smile.
Heejin whirls around to shoot a snarky comment back in response, but the only thing that comes to mind is oh.
All the wind rushes out of Heejin’s lungs, and she’s left with an unbearable tightness in her chest.
It’s almost idyllic: birds are singing, the sun is shining, the sky is a gorgeous azure, and Hyunjin- well, Hyunjin is simply dazzling, from her sparkling eyes to her porcelain skin to the glossiness of her shoulder-length hair.
Forget a photoshoot, Hyunjin is the face of all mask ads in existence.
Something in her brain reminds her that this isn’t new information - she hardly has a need to wax poetic to tell herself that Hyunjin is beautiful - but Heejin’s brain can hardly handle everything at once.
All of Heejin’s repressed emotions come resurfacing in a horribly fragmented mess of memories and dialogue.
But really, it’s simple.
Heejin loves Hyunjin.
Heejin loves Hyunjin more than she’s ever loved anyone before.
Heejin is overwhelmed with the urgent desire to vomit all of her feelings all at once so that Hyunjin can understand how powerful her emotions are, but Heejin remembers.
Hyunjin likes someone.
(Probably her roommate, Wong Kahei, if she’s being realistic, but someone nonetheless.)
It’s as if the tautness in her chest has been ruptured by a pair of safety scissors. Unsolicited tears form in Heejin’s eyes, and she abruptly stops walking.
“Heejin?” Hyunjin waves a hand in front of Heejin’s face, concern etched upon her features. “Are you okay?”
“I like cats,” Heejin says dumbly. Hot tears threaten to spill over her wet eyes, but she miraculously manages to hold herself together. A mirthless laugh escaping her lips, Heejin repeats, “I like cats.”
“Heejin, what’s wrong?” Hyunjin reaches out, but Heejin steps back.
“I need to go.”
“No, wait-”
Heejin doesn’t look back. She walks briskly, her eyes burning and throat closing up, but refuses to break down until she’s all the way in the safety of her room.
Hugging the cat plush toy that Hyunjin once gifted her to her chest, Heejin cries.
V.
There’s no skirting around it - Heejin goes into a sort of modified hibernation, in which she shuts out the world and remains obstinately hyperfixated on the budding romance of Sung Hoon and that obscure K-Pop girl in some trashy webtoon-based drama. It’s the kind of shit warranted by post-drama depression, and although Heejin is suffering post-Hyunjin depression, it serves its purpose well enough.
It takes Haseul an insane level of resolve - and an impressive show of her aptitude as a chef - to get through to Heejin. Needless to say, the girl is less than thrilled to talk about her feelings.
But despite Heejin’s reluctance to open up, Haseul is more supportive and loving than Heejin could have ever dreamed. She’s beyond thankful for Haseul’s willingness to be there for her.
Haseul brings Heejin to a level of understanding about her feelings that she’s never achieved before. And it’s great, ignoring the whole Heejin is entirely and irrevocably in love with a girl who clearly does not reciprocate her feelings part.
But in any case, Heejin has come to the decision that she’d rather keep her (somewhat shaky?) friendship with Hyunjin than go on a murderous rampage and destroy whatever’s left of their relationship.
Is it the right decision? Heejin has no idea, but she really hopes it is. Because honestly, she’d really hate to make the wrong decision now.
So when Hyunjin texts her, Heejin replies back enthusiastically. (But not too enthusiastically, because that would be weird, and Heejin isn’t weird, okay?)
And to Heejin’s overwhelming relief, the pair eventually establishes regular correspondence. Despite their conflicting schedules, they make time to chat almost every day.
No matter how Heejin pretends not to notice Haseul watching her with pity reflected in her eyes, or how her roommate keeps making jokbal even though their broke asses really can’t afford it, it’s okay, because Heejin is being a mature adult and moving on.
Well, not really.
Heejin is attempting to be a mature adult by compartmentalizing her emotions and shoving them to the back of her brain while plastering a vaguely realistic smile on her face. Because apparently extreme emotional repression equates to adulthood now.
Totally.
But Heejin’s fine, okay. She’s done a good enough job of burying her emotions that she’s sure that nothing can dredge them up. Not even Hyunjin’s stupid coronavirus-ad face, or her stupidly melodic laugh, or her stupid way of making Heejin feel special. Because Heejin is one hundred percent over her, okay.
Yeah, no.
Heejin is starfished on her bed, staring up at her ceiling, which is littered with glow-in-the-dark stars. They’re compliments of her brief but intense Sailor Moon obsession, which, surprise surprise, was a result of Hyunjin relentlessly fangirling about the anime. Now, all Heejin can see in the stars is Hyunjin’s stupidly adorable smile, because somehow everything comes back to Hyunjin.
Everything has always come back to Hyunjin. Because Hyunjin is her everything.
If Heejin is being honest, she’s probably loved Hyunjin even before the Big Gay Crisis of 2016. She’s always been horrible at coming to terms with her feelings, and this is no exception.
(Heejin had first met Hyunjin as a result of her emo theatre gay phase in high school - Heejin had been a part of stage crew, and Hyunjin cast. They’d bonded over the course of several tech weeks, as all theatre gays do, remaining mere acquaintances outside the wings of their high school theatre. But that hadn’t deterred Heejin from falling for the girl anyway, and she had spent the remainder of their high school years dancing around Hyunjin.
As she would be going out of state for university, Heejin had convinced herself to get over the girl - and as time passed, so had the lingering memory of the dramatic raven-haired theatre kid that Heejin had fallen in love with.
Until she’d stumbled upon a quaint little coffee shop - and consequently into the girl - on a caffeine run during finals week.
Heejin had started, her eyes widening with recognition, as the cashier had stared back at her, equally startled. Then, breaking out into twin smiles, the tension had been broken; they’d exchanged numbers, and had become fast friends.
Three years had passed, and they’d remained friends.
Just friends.)
A miserable laugh bubbles up in Heejin’s throat. She’s never going to get over Hyunjin, not as long as they’re still in contact. And, of course, being the masochist she is, Heejin isn’t about to stop talking to her longtime crush just because she’s her longtime crush.
But Hyunjin belongs to someone, and that someone will never be Heejin.
VI.
The first time it happens is objectively the worst.
Heejin wakes up painfully hungover, with a splitting migraine and a wave of nausea threatening to consume her.
But the numbness that the soju had brought her the night before had been so liberating, so unbridling. It was as if Heejin had finally let go of her feelings, if just for a moment.
And that’s why it becomes habitual, a cyclical routine of rinsing and repeating, as Heejin destroys her liver night by night - an unrelenting tide of short-lived numbness giving way to terrible headaches and even more terrible heartaches.
Heejin hates it, but what can she do? She’s a prisoner of her emotions, involuntarily bound to her love for Hyunjin - and she’s desperate for escape.
Which is maybe why a ray of light manifests itself in the form of a drunken idea, a drunken idea founded on the basis of Heejin’s own desperation for release.
It happens on a summer night, sultry and oppressive, it has Heejin itching to do something. She’s an Angry Drunk, so irritated by her lethargy, by her inaction, that she can’t handle it anymore.
Mere seconds away from projectile vomiting the remnants of her somaek all over herself, Heejin takes a good minute to reflect upon the cause of her irritation - her feelings for Hyunjin. But it’s as if every insecurity she’s ever had has condensed into a tight knot of dread, enveloped by the erratic thrumming of her heart and the skittish energy simmering beneath her skin, threatening to burst at any moment.
Heejin can’t stop thinking about her ever-present (and increasingly hard-to-ignore) feelings for Hyunjin. She’s tried to swallow them down, to bury them in a corner of her mind that she’ll never visit, but it’s been killing her.
Heejin can’t lie to Hyunjin anymore.
A drunken haze clouding her vision, she pulls out her phone, simply staring at Hyunjin’s icon. Her fingers quiver as she rereads the (perfectly innocent) messages she’d exchanged with Hyunjin earlier in the night. Her core pulses with adrenaline, her entire body feeling much too alive for her level of inebriation.
And then she types it out: the entire weight of her emotional baggage out for Hyunjin to read; five years' worth of pining condensed into about a hundred words of utter word vomit. It’s almost cathartic for Heejin to unleash her feelings like this - for the fifth time, sure, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know that - and a huge weight has been lifted off her chest.
She doesn’t even read it over before she sends it.
Heejin doesn’t believe for a second that Hyunjin will reply anytime in the next four hours - because Hyunjin is a Normal Human That Sleeps, thank you very much - but as she puts her phone next to her, she leaves it on vibrate. Maybe a small part of Heejin wants to believe that Hyunjin will somehow be awake to see it, or that she won’t immediately alienate her the second she does.
Heejin fills her shot glass with soju and takes a much-needed shot.
She slumps down in her chair, drained, but not in a bad way - it’s the good sort of exhaustion that makes her want to curl in on herself and sleep for a lifetime - and she's not complaining.
But just as the dark tendrils of sleep are beginning to claim her, Heejin feels a vibration coming from her phone.
Her eyes fly open.
Her heart pounding, Heejin prays that it isn’t Hyunjin. That Hyunjin isn’t about to reject her pathetic ass, because Heejin knows that she’s not going to be able to sleep if she does.
Whispering a silent prayer of please don’t let Hyunjin dump her - never mind the fact that she’s an atheist - Heejin unlocks her phone.
Heejin’s eyes widen.
She doesn’t know what she’s expecting - a nice rejection? a not-so-nice rejection? any rejection? - but it certainly isn’t this.
aeongie<3
omg are you drunk
heejin?
heejin
please
you're drunk
you don't know what you're saying
that's not what you think
Heejin bristles at the text, rightfully indignant. Of course she knows what she's saying! It's been five years, for God's sake!
Without thinking twice about it, Heejin presses the call button, fuming. She'll tell Hyunjin a thing or two, that's for sure.
"Heejin-"
"Hyunjin," Heejin thunders, slamming her shot glass down. "How dare you think that I don't know what I'm talking about?"
"No, Hee-"
"Let me talk," Heejin growls, her temper flaring. "I've loved you for five years. Five years! I've spent the last five years hopelessly pining after you, cramming my feelings into a little corner of my heart so as not to hurt you. Because I care about you. I love you, so, so much. It… it hurts."
"It hurts," Heejin slurs forlornly, tears blurring her vision. "Because you already belong to someone else and I still don't have the guts to tell you that I love you."
Hyunjin remains infuriatingly silent throughout Heejin's harangue.
"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" Heejin demands, sniffling softly.
Hyunjin chuckles derisively in response. "What do you want me to say? That I love you? That I've been longing for this moment for, what, two years now?"
Heejin momentarily ceases her sniffling, eyes rounding in delayed shock.
"What?"
"Yeah, you big idiot," Hyunjin says dryly. "I love you."
"But, like… really?"
"Yes, really," Hyunjin responds patiently, a hint of mirth lacing her intonation with palpable endearment.
"But… how?" Heejin questions in wonderment. "You're supposed to like Kahei."
"I've never liked her," Hyunjin affirms. "It's always been you, Heejin."
Heejin beams, suddenly overjoyed. "I love Hyunjin," she confesses, whispering. "Shh, don't tell her."
Hyunjin sighs, reality sinking in. "Oh, Heejin, we really shouldn't have had this discussion like this."
Heejin giggles airily. "Why not? I'm so happy~"
"And this is why," Hyunjin mutters. Raising her voice ever-so-slightly, she says, "Heejin, I'm going to hang up now. Call me tomorrow, and we can talk about this, okay?"
"Okay," Heejin flashes a dopey smile at nobody in particular. "Bye bye, I love you."
"I love you, too," Hyunjin says quietly, her melancholy smile creeping into her voice. "Goodbye, Heejin." With that, she ends the call.
But Heejin is over the moon! She’s feeling explosions of butterflies and rainbows and sparkles and ponies and unicorns and puppies!!! She could just-
Heejin slumps over the table, sheer exhaustion catching up with her, as the elusive tendrils of sleep finally claim her.
VII.
Heejin wakes up the next morning to a crick in her neck, a somewhat well-deserved migraine, and unfortunately, some semblance of a recollection of the previous night's events.
So naturally, the first thing she does after downing half a bottle of aspirin is have a meltdown.
Haseul finds Heejin's panicking form laying aimlessly on the sofa, and immediately extracts a confession out of her.
"What do I do?" Heejin pleads, her eyes lost and forlorn.
Haseul smiles tightly. "Call her."
Heejin's face crumples as she eyes her nearly-dead phone.
"You owe it to her," Haseul reminds Heejin gently. "Please."
Swallowing heavily, Heejin nods. "Yeah, I do."
Haseul pats Heejin on the shoulder, standing up. "I'll leave you to it, then."
Heejin watches as her roommate makes her way to the kitchen, and pulls out her cell phone.
She knows that no amount of mental conditioning will ever prepare her for the conversation, so she just goes for the call.
Three excruciating rings go by before Hyunjin picks up.
"Hi," Heejin begins tentatively.
"Hey," Hyunjin returns softly. "So…"
"Yeah," Heejin says. "Um."
"How much do you remember?"
Heejin winces. "All of it, I think."
"...Oh."
Heejin clears her throat awkwardly. "Did you, y'know, mean it?"
"Mean what?" Hyunjin's voice wobbles, an indicator of her own self-doubt.
"When you said…" Heejin closes her eyes, suddenly choked up. "When you said you loved me."
There's a pause on the other end, and Heejin's breath catches in her throat.
"Yeah," Hyunjin finally croaks out. "I… I meant it."
"I-" Heejin bites her lip. "Uh."
"It's okay," Hyunjin says softly. "It's okay if you didn't mean it. I just… it's better if you know. I'll get over it soon, I promise."
"Wh- no!" Heejin panics. "No no no, you don't understand, I-"
"I won't contact you if you don't want me to, I underst-"
"Hyunjin!" Heejin exclaims, cutting the former off. "Listen to me, please.”
"I love you. I always have, and I always will. My drunken ramblings last night - which probably didn't make any sense, sorry - I meant every word. Every word. And all this time, I thought- I thought you'd hate me. I thought you would never see me as anything more than your best friend. And-" Heejin sobs, "I just can't believe that maybe, just maybe you might love me back."
Heejin's proclamation is met with a few terrifying moments of silence as Hyunjin processes Heejin's words. Then-
"We are actual fucking idiots," Hyunjin sniffles, her voice breaking.
"Idiots," Heejin echoes fondly. "Idiots in love."
"And, quite possibly," Hyunjin's voice edges on mirth, "girlfriends?"
"Girlfriends," Heejin agrees.
Hyunjin giggles mischievously. "And here I thought you'd end up dating a mushroom-"
"Kim Hyunjin-" Heejin warns.
"Just kidding, love you."
"Love you, too."