Chapter 3
Chaeyoung's apartment always smells like art supplies and coffee, a combination that Mina has come to associate with quiet evenings and comfortable silences. Tonight, though, something feels different. The silence has weight to it, pressing against her skin like humid summer air.
They're watching some independent film Chaeyoung's been excited about, but Mina catches her staring at the same spot on the wall more often than at the screen. The younger woman's usual animation is absent—no random observations about the cinematography, no excited pointing out of subtle symbolism she's noticed.
"You're quiet tonight," Mina observes softly, watching Chaeyoung push ice cream around in its container without actually eating it.
"Mm." Chaeyoung doesn't elaborate, just continues creating patterns in melting vanilla. Her hair falls forward, hiding her expression, but Mina catches something in her profile—a tension around her mouth that wasn't there before.
Must be tired, Mina thinks, remembering their packed schedule lately. She's about to suggest they call it a night when she realizes Chaeyoung has fallen asleep, head tilted at an angle that will definitely hurt in the morning.
With practiced care, Mina adjusts Chaeyoung's position, laying her properly on the couch and pulling the throw blanket over her. She's done this countless times over the years—all of them have, taking care of each other in these small ways that become significant through repetition.
But something makes her pause tonight, watching Chaeyoung's features soften in sleep. Maybe it's guilt over that concert kiss she planted in the past, or maybe it's just the strange melancholy that's been hanging around the younger woman lately.
Her phone buzzes as soon as she gets home.
Chaeyoung: Thank you for everything, unnie
It's such a weighted message for such a simple evening. Mina stares at it, trying to decode what's hiding between those six words. But like so many things lately that don't directly involve Nayeon, she lets it slide into the background of her consciousness, responding with a heart emoji that Chaeyoung quickly reacts to with one of her own.
The next day, Sana corners them in the practice room's storage closet, of all places. Mina's looking for spare dance shoes while Nayeon helps (mostly by providing running commentary on everyone else's shoe choices) when Sana slips in and closes the door behind her.
"So," she says, arms crossed but eyes sparkling with that particular Sana blend of mischief and affection. "When were you going to tell me?"
Mina freezes, hand still stretched toward a shelf. "Tell you what?"
"Please," Sana rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. "I've known both of you since we were teenagers. You really think I, of all people, wouldn't notice?"
"Notice what?" Nayeon tries, but her poker face has always been terrible, especially with Sana.
The practice room storage closet has always been something of a sanctuary. It's where they've hidden tears after particularly harsh evaluations, where they've shared secrets and dreams and fears. Today, surrounded by spare dance shoes and practice outfits, it becomes the stage for another kind of revelation.
"The way you look at each other when you think no one's watching," Sana says, leaning against the door with that knowing smile of hers. "Like you're sharing a secret with the whole world watching, but you’re speaking in a language that only exists in books which you’ve written for each other and it makes zero sense for the entirety of us watching."
Mina feels her cheeks warm. Trust Sana to make it sound both romantic and slightly terrifying.
"And that Instagram live?" Sana continues, counting off on her fingers. "That wasn't just fan service. That was practically a wedding ceremony without the official paperwork. The way you kept looking at each other when you thought the camera wasn't focused on you? Please. I've seen subtler confessions in drama scripts."
"We weren't that obvious," Nayeon protests weakly.
Sana raises an eyebrow. "You literally said 'if we were married' and then proceeded to list your weekly couple activities. There are fan accounts dedicated to analyzing every second of that live. I should know, I follow most of them."
"You what?" Mina and Nayeon ask simultaneously.
"Oh please, like I'm the only one. Jihyo has a secret Twitter account where she likes MiNayeon edits. Dahyun's probably writing fanfiction about you two as we speak."
"She better not be," Nayeon grumbles, but she's fighting a smile.
"And then there's this," Sana gestures to their joined hands. "The way you gravitate toward each other without even realizing it. You're literally holding hands while looking for dance shoes. Who does that?"
Mina looks down, surprised to find her fingers intertwined with Nayeon's. She's not sure when it happened—reaching for each other has become as natural as breathing.
"It's not just the obvious things," Sana's voice softens. "It's the little moments. Nayeon bringing you coffee exactly how you like it without asking. Mina adjusting your mic pack before you even realize it's twisted. The way you both light up when the other enters a room, even if you've only been apart for five minutes."
"Sana..." Mina starts, but finds she doesn't know how to continue. How do you respond to someone laying out your heart so carefully, so accurately?
"Hey, I'm not here to lecture you or anything," Sana cuts in, waving off whatever Mina might have said. "I just wanted you to know that I know, and I'm happy for you." Her expression softens into something that makes Mina's chest ache with affection. "You deserve this. Both of you."
The words settle around them like a blessing. Because that's what Sana has always been for them—a bearer of emotional truths, someone who sees straight to the heart of things and knows exactly what needs to be said.
"How long have you known?" Nayeon asks, curious rather than defensive.
Sana pretends to think about it. "Officially? Since that live. Unofficially?" She smiles. "Probably before either of you did. Remember that time in Japan, during the Fancy tour? When Mina wasn't feeling well and Nayeon spent the whole night sitting outside her hotel room door?"
"I didn't know about that," Mina turns to Nayeon, who suddenly looks very interested in a nearby shelf of practice clothes.
"You weren't supposed to," Nayeon mumbles. "You needed rest, not me hovering."
"So she hovered from the hallway instead," Sana adds cheerfully. "Glared at anyone who made too much noise walking past. It was very protective girlfriend behavior for someone who wasn't supposed to be your girlfriend yet."
"Just us and management know," Nayeon says quietly, changing the subject before Mina can process this new information about past-Nayeon's dedication. "For now."
Sana mimes zipping her lips, then immediately ruins the gesture by breaking into a wide grin. "Your secret's safe with me. Though maybe try to be less obvious during VLives? The fans are writing whole dissertations about your domestic behavior. There's a whole theory about how you have a secret apartment together based on that take out menu bit."
"Do we?" Nayeon asks Mina, looking genuinely curious. "Have a secret apartment?"
"If we do, you haven't told me about it," Mina plays along, enjoying the way Nayeon's eyes crinkle when she's trying not to laugh.
"Not yet, but give it time," Sana says sagely. "At the rate you two are going, I expect wedding invitations by next spring."
Something in Mina's chest tightens at the word 'wedding,' memories of future visions flickering through her mind—white lace darkened by ocean waves, Sana's arms around her waist, a devastating text message from an unknown number.
Nayeon must feel her tense because she squeezes her hand gently. "One step at a time, Satang."
"Speaking of steps," Sana pushes off from the door, "we should probably get back to practice before Jihyo sends a search party. But first..." She pulls them both into a tight hug, the kind that only Sana can give—all-encompassing and full of unspoken support.
Time moves differently after that conversation, like a river meandering to find a new course. Days flow into weeks into months, marked by moments that feel both ordinary and extraordinary. Nayeon leaving little notes in Mina's dance bag. Mina learning to cook Nayeon's favorite dishes. The way they've developed a whole language of looks and touches that say everything they can't voice out loud.
The company's support manifests in subtle ways. Separate cars when needed, their managers carefully creating buffer zones around their private time. Schedule adjustments that somehow always ensure they have matching free days. Even their styling starts to complement each other more obviously—coordinated colors, matching accessories that fans immediately notice and theorize about.
Six months pass without a single time slip, and Mina begins to wonder if that chapter of her life is truly closed. The future she glimpsed—the wedding dress, the devastating text message, the fights that haven't happened yet—starts to feel more like a half-remembered dream than a warning. She catches herself relaxing into the present, letting future worries fade in favor of current joys.
Their relationship settles into something both public and private, existing in the space between what people see and what they know. Fans create entire social media accounts dedicated to analyzing their interactions, finding meaning in every shared glance and casual touch. Some of their theories are surprisingly accurate. Others are wildly off-base but entertaining enough that Nayeon sometimes reads them aloud at night, both of them curled up on her couch, laughing at the elaborate scenarios fans have constructed.
"This one thinks we have a secret code using penguin and bunny emojis," Nayeon announces one evening, scrolling through her phone. "Apparently every time we use them in different orders, we're sending each other messages."
"Aren't we?" Mina deadpans, and enjoys the way Nayeon's eyes widen before she realizes Mina's joking.
The members adjust to their relationship in different ways. Jihyo gives them knowing looks during practice but never says anything directly. Jeongyeon teases them mercilessly in private but becomes fiercely protective if anyone outside their circle seems too curious. Momo just shrugs and says she always thought they were dating anyway.
Tzuyu, in her characteristically straightforward way, simply asks over lunch one day: "Are you happy?"
When they both nod, she goes back to her food with a satisfied "Good" that somehow feels like the highest approval they could receive.
Dahyun starts leaving relationship advice books in their bags, each one highlighted and annotated with surprisingly insightful comments. When they ask her about it, she just grins and says something about research for her future novel or something about getting their opinion so she can portray her future acting roles better.
And then there's Chaeyoung. Their youngest carries something heavy in her eyes these days, though she tries to hide it behind her usual bright smile and artistic adventures. Photos surface of her in various cafes with different artists, different people, at gallery openings with people the fans immediately start investigating. Each time, their managers call her in for the standard lecture about being careful, about maintaining their image.
"Just don't get caught doing anything too scandalous," their manager says during one such meeting, but she's smiling as she says it. After ten years, they've all earned some freedom to live.
Mina watches these photos appear online with a strange mix of emotions. She wants Chaeyoung to be happy, to find whatever—or whoever—makes her eyes light up with that special spark. But something nags at her conscience every time she sees a new dating rumor, every time Chaeyoung shows up to practice with slightly red eyes that she blames on lack of sleep.
"Do you think she's okay?" Mina asks Nayeon one night, both of them caught in that quiet space between waking and sleeping.
"Chaeyoung?" Nayeon shifts to look at her better. "She seems... restless lately. But you know how she gets sometimes, when she's working through something in her art. Could be a new tattoo?"
Mina hums noncommittally, thinking about crying emojis on their Instagram live, about quiet movie nights and weighted thank-you messages. About a concert kiss planted in the past that maybe changed more than she intended.
"She'll tell us if something's really wrong," Nayeon says confidently, pulling Mina closer. "She always does, eventually."
But Mina's not so sure. She's learning that some changes ripple outward in ways you can't predict, that actions meant to prevent one future might inadvertently create another. She thinks about Chaeyoung's sad eyes in that future bridal shop, about the way she looked like she was watching something beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time.
Still, life moves forward. They find their rhythm as a couple, learning to balance public persona with private truth. Their love story plays out in front of millions, but only they know all the chapters. Only they understand the weight of morning kisses and late-night conversations, of shared dreams and careful plans.
Six months without a time slip, and Mina almost convinces herself that the future is unwritten, that those glimpses of what might be were just possibilities, not certainties. Almost.
But sometimes, late at night, she finds herself thinking about beach waves and wedding dresses, about unknown numbers and blocked contacts. About how love stories don't always end the way you expect them to, even when you can see the ending coming.
Or think you can.
Almost.
But ask Ariana, who is, apparently, a guru of almosts, and she knows full well that it’s never, ever, enough.
The company building feels different at night. Emptier, somehow, like a stage between performances. Mina's fingers drum nervously against her thigh as they wait outside the conference room, the late hour making everything feel slightly surreal.
"Stop worrying," Nayeon whispers, catching her restless hand and intertwining their fingers. "Whatever happens, we face it together."
Before Mina can respond, their manager opens the door. "Come in, girls."
The conference room is familiar—they've had countless meetings here over the years. Contract renewals, comeback preparations, tour planning. But something about this feels different. More personal. More terrifying.
Their manager—Seon Jiwook, who's been with them since their debut days—sits across from them, a stack of papers neat and untouched in front of her. There's no legal team present, no company executives. Just Jiwook, who's seen them grow from nervous trainees into the women they are now.
"So," Jiwook begins, and Mina feels Nayeon's hand tighten around hers under the table. "I think we should talk about what's been happening lately."
Here it comes, Mina thinks. The careful suggestions about maintaining their image. The reminders about public perception and career implications.
"The fans are getting bolder with their theories," Jiwook continues, pulling up something on her tablet. "This analysis of your Instagram live has over two million views. The one where you essentially had a date night in front of three hundred thousand people."
"We weren't trying to—" Nayeon starts, but Jiwook holds up a hand.
"Let me finish." She sets the tablet down, and something in her expression shifts. Softens. "Do you know what I remember most about your trainee days?"
The question is so unexpected that both of them just stare at her.
"I remember how hard you worked. Both of you. Nayeon, staying late every night to perfect your vocals. Mina, practicing dance moves until your feet bled. You've never taken the easy path, never asked for special treatment."
Memories flash through Mina's mind—countless hours in practice rooms, tears and frustration and determination. Nayeon bringing her water when she'd practiced too long, her own quiet encouragement when Nayeon's voice cracked during evaluations.
"Ten years," Jiwook says softly. "Ten years of putting the group first, of careful public appearances and perfectly maintained images. Ten years of hiding parts of yourselves for the sake of your careers."
"It was our choice," Mina finds herself saying. "We knew what we were signing up for."
"Did you?" Jiwook asks, but it doesn't sound accusatory. "You were so young when all this started. Did you really understand what it would mean to live your entire life in the public eye? To have every interaction analyzed, every relationship scrutinized?"
Neither of them answers. They don't need to.
"You've both worked incredibly hard," Jiwook continues, her voice carrying a warmth that makes Mina's chest tight. "Put the group and your careers first for so long. Maybe it's time to think about what you want for yourselves."
"Are you… what are you saying, unnie?" Nayeon asks, gripping Mina's hand so tight it almost hurts.
"I'm saying that times are changing. The public is changing, little by little, but changing none the less. And you've earned the right to be happy, whatever that looks like." Jiwook smiles, and it's full of something that looks like pride. "The company's stance is evolving too. We're not saying make a formal announcement or anything, but... we won't stand in your way if you do or if you want to be less careful."
The words hang in the air like possibilities. Mina feels slightly dizzy, like the world has shifted on its axis and she’s still very much in the present.
"What about the group?" she asks, because someone has to. "Our contracts? The tours?"
"Nothing changes professionally," Jiwook assures them. "You're still TWICE's Nayeon and Mina. But off-stage? You can be just Nayeon and Mina. Together, if that's what you want."
"Together," Nayeon echoes, and Mina hears everything she's not saying in that single word. “I like the sound of that.”
"We'll have to be strategic about it," Jiwook continues, slipping back into manager mode. "Gradual changes, nothing too sudden that might shock the public. But you've already laid good groundwork with your social media presence. The fans are practically begging for more content of you two together."
"They're writing dissertations about our domestic behavior," Nayeon says with a small laugh. "Sana keeps sending us links to theory threads."
"Sana knows?" Jiwoo raises an eyebrow, then shakes her head. "Of course Sana knows. I'm surprised she kept it quiet this long."
"She's been surprisingly subtle about it," Mina says, remembering their storage room conversation. "In her own way."
"Well, now you have official support to be less subtle. Within reason," Jiwook adds quickly. "We still need to maintain professional standards, especially during official events."
"But unofficial events?" Nayeon asks, and Mina recognizes that tone—she's already planning something.
"Use your judgment," Jiwoo says. "You've both always had good instincts about these things. Trust them."
The meeting wraps up shortly after that, but Mina feels like they've been there for hours, days, years. Everything seems slightly unreal—the gentle squeeze of Nayeon's hand as they stand, the proud smile on Jiwook's face as she hugs them both, the weight of possibility settling around their shoulders like a comfortable coat.
They're quiet in the elevator, both processing what just happened. Mina watches their reflection in the mirrored walls—her and Nayeon, standing close enough that their shoulders touch, years of carefully maintained distance suddenly unnecessary.
Then Nayeon turns to her with that spark in her eye, the one that always means she's about to suggest something either brilliant or terrible. Usually both.
"Let's go live again."
The words hang between them like an invitation, like a challenge, like a promise, all wrapped in one pretty gift in Nayeon’s lips. Mina studies Nayeon's face—the hope in her eyes, the slight nervousness in her smile, the love that she's never quite been able to hide completely.
She thinks about all the moments that have led them here. Their trainee days, debut stages, quiet nights and loud celebrations. Time slips that showed her their past from new angles, glimpses of possible futures that still hover on the horizon like storm clouds.
She thinks about that future text message, about wedding dresses and beach waves and choices not yet made. But then she looks at Nayeon—present-day Nayeon, who's watching her with such open affection that it makes her heart stutter—and thinks: maybe some things are worth being brave for.
"Okay," she says, and watches Nayeon's whole face light up like sunrise. "But this time, let's really give them something to talk about."
Nayeon's smile turns mischievous. "What did you have in mind?"
"Well," Mina pretends to think about it, even as her heart races with the boldness of what she's about to suggest. "Remember how the fans lost their minds when I blinked twice during the last live?"
"When you—" Nayeon's eyes widen as she remembers. "The 'blink twice if you're in love with Nayeon' comment? You actually did it?"
"I did." Mina steps closer, enjoying the way Nayeon's breath catches. "Want to know what else I might do this time?"
The elevator doors open to the parking garage, but neither of them moves to exit. They're caught in this moment, this precipice between what they've been and what they could be.
"Tell me," Nayeon whispers, and there's something in her voice that makes Mina brave.
She leans forward, lips brushing Nayeon's ear. "Guess you'll have to wait for the live to find out."
The elevator doors close again, taking them back up because they've missed their floor, but neither of them notices. They're too busy planning their next step into this new territory, this world where they can be less careful with their hearts.
Above them, the security camera captures it all—two women standing close, laughing about something only they understand, love written in every line of their bodies. Tomorrow, some junior security staff member will probably post about it on their private social media, and the fans will add it to their growing collection of evidence.
But for now, in this moment, they're just Nayeon and Mina, stepping bravely into whatever comes next.
Together.
October paints Seoul in shades of amber and gold, the morning air crisp with anticipation for TWICE's anniversary celebration. Mina nestles into her usual spot in the van, Nayeon's shoulder the perfect height for her to rest her head. The familiar scent of Nayeon's perfume mingles with the coffee they'd grabbed on their way out.
"You're quiet this morning," Nayeon murmurs, thumb drawing absent patterns on Mina's knee.
"Just thinking about the live later," Mina says, and it's not exactly a lie. She's been turning their plans over in her mind all morning, weighing the balance between bravery and prudence.
The van turns onto the main road, and the world shifts.
It happens so suddenly that for a moment, Mina doesn't recognize what's happening. It's been so long—one year and two months of normalcy, of time flowing the way it’s supposed to, of present moments staying firmly in the present—that she's almost forgotten the peculiar sensation of reality dissolving around her.
The van's interior melts away like sugar in a sauce pan, reforming into a sunlit café terrace somewhere in France. The air smells of coffee and fresh-baked bread, carrying conversations in rapid French from nearby tables. An espresso cup sits before her, dark liquid catching the morning light.
Beside it, a complicated-looking drink that screams Chaeyoung—probably something with an impossible combination of flavors that somehow works because Chaeyoung ordered it. Future-Mina reaches for her coffee, and that's when she sees it.
The ring catches the sunlight, simple yet elegant. A band that looks like it was designed specifically for her hand, as if someone knew exactly what she would want. Future-Mina studies it with a mixture of admiration and something else—something that feels like contentment mixed with an old, familiar ache. Or maybe the familiar ache is what present-Mina is brining to the table.
The café door chimes, and Chaeyoung emerges with the kind of triumphant expression she usually reserves for particularly successful art projects. She's balancing a tray of croissants, doing a little dance as she navigates between tables.
"They were making a fresh batch," she announces, dropping into the seat across from Mina. "Totally worth the wait."
When she sets a pastry on Mina's plate, the morning sun catches on metal, and Mina's heart stops. There, on Chaeyoung's finger, a matching ring. The same design, the same elegant simplicity, like two pieces of a whole.
Future-Mina reaches out without thinking, catching Chaeyoung's hand in a gesture that probably looks romantic to anyone watching. But she's studying the ring, mind racing through implications, through memories of other future glimpses—a wedding dress darkened by ocean waves, a devastating text message, blank spaces in her phone where certain names should be.
"I love you too, Mina," Chaeyoung says softly, misreading her gesture. "Now go and eat. We're running late."
The words hit like physical blows. Each one clicking another piece into place in this puzzle she's been trying to solve. The wedding. The rings. The text message from an unknown number. The missing contact names.
She married Chaeyoung.
And Nayeon... Nayeon couldn't bear to watch.
Future-Mina feels tears welling up, a sob building in her throat as the full weight of this revelation threatens to overwhelm her. But Chaeyoung's hands are already on her cheeks, thumbs gentle as they catch tears before they can fall.
"Hey," Chaeyoung starts, concern etching lines around her eyes, but before she can say more, reality shifts again.
Mina blinks, finding herself back in the van, head still resting on Nayeon's shoulder. They're pulling up to the company building, other members' cars already parked in their usual spots.
"We're here," Nayeon says cheerfully, completely unaware that Mina's world has just tilted on its axis. "Ready to break the internet?"
The question takes on new weight now. Because how can she do this? How can she plan to be more open about their relationship when she's seen this future where it all falls apart?
"Mina?" Nayeon's voice carries a note of concern now. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Mina manages, but her voice sounds distant even to her own ears. "Just nervous, I guess."
Nayeon's hand finds hers, squeezing gently. "You don’t have to think too much about the live, Mina-yah! We don't have to do anything you're not ready for anyway. We can wait if that’s what you want."
The kindness in her voice makes something in Mina's chest crack. Because this is Nayeon—beautiful, caring Nayeon who's always put Mina's comfort first. Who apparently will one day find herself unable to watch Mina marry someone else.
But as they climb out of the van, Mina can't help but wonder if she's reading too much into what she saw. The ring could mean anything. The text message could have been from anyone. Maybe she's connecting dots that aren't meant to be connected.
Maybe that. Or maybe it is exactly how she saw it.
Or maybe this is exactly why she's being shown these glimpses. Maybe she's supposed to prevent this future, not accept it as inevitable.
"Earth to Mina," Nayeon waves a hand in front of her face. "You really are somewhere else today, aren't you?"
"Sorry," Mina forces a smile. "Just got lost in thought."
"Thinking about how we're going to break Once's hearts with our domestic behavior for the second time?" Nayeon wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
"Something like that, yeah," Mina manages, adds a chuckle that seems flat.
They make their way into the building, greeted by staff and other members preparing for the anniversary shoot. Chaeyoung's already there, perched on a makeup chair while a stylist works on her hair. She catches Mina's eye in the mirror and smiles, bright and genuine but weighted, and Mina feels her heart twist.
Because now she can't help but see it—the possibility of that future version of Chaeyoung in this present one. The way her eyes linger a fraction too long, the slight pink that colors her ears when Mina smiles back.
This very same Chaeyoung that, for whatever roads that led them there, will get married to her. The very same person who is now looking more detached with her reality as she finds it with Nayeon. The very same person who is possibly looking for a distraction from other people who will kindly give it to her.
"I'm going to get coffee," Mina announces suddenly, needing space to think. "Anyone want anything?"
"Want me to come with you," Nayeon offers immediately, but Mina shakes her head.
"It's okay, I know everyone's orders by heart."
She escapes to the building's café, grateful for the moment alone. The barista starts preparing their usual orders without being asked—they've been coming here so long that their preferences are practically muscle memory for the staff.
As she waits, Mina pulls out her phone and opens her gallery. Photos of her and Nayeon fill the screen—selcas from practice, candid shots from their dates, moments caught between schedules. In every one, there's so much love it's almost tangible.
But then she scrolls further and finds photos with Chaeyoung too. Movie nights and art gallery visits, impromptu photoshoots and quiet moments between performances. She studies these pictures with new eyes, wondering if she can spot the moment where something changed. Where a friendly kiss on the cheek during a concert might have set something bigger in motion.
The sound of their drinks being placed on the counter pulls her from her thoughts. She gathers the carrier carefully, muscle memory guiding her hands even as her mind races.
She begs to believe that these slips only shows you possibilities, not certainties. What she saw in France—that could be one possible future among many. The wedding by the beach, the devastating text message, the rings catching sunlight in a Parisian café—maybe these are warnings rather than prophecies.
Or maybe they're inevitabilities she's only delaying.
When she returns to the dressing room, Nayeon and Chaeyoung are talking animatedly about something, both of them lighting up when they see her with the coffee. The sight makes her pause in the doorway, struck by the strange double vision of present and future overlapping.
"You're our hero," Nayeon declares, reaching for her drink with the kind of enthusiasm that always makes Mina's heart skip.
"Seriously," Chaeyoung agrees, accepting her complicated order with a grateful smile. "How do you always remember exactly how I like it?"
"I pay attention," Mina says simply, and watches something flicker across Chaeyoung's face—something that might have always been there, if she'd known to look for it.
Later, as they're being positioned for group photos, Mina finds herself between Nayeon and Chaeyoung. It feels symbolic somehow, standing here with possible futures on either side of her.
"Everyone say 'TWICE!'" the photographer calls out, and Mina puts on her professional smile.
But inside, her mind is spinning with possibilities and fears. Because somewhere between now and that future she glimpsed, something changes. Something breaks. And she's not sure if she's supposed to prevent it or prepare for it.
The camera flashes, capturing this moment—Nayeon's hand warm on her waist, Chaeyoung's shoulder pressed against hers, all of them smiling like they know exactly where they're headed.
Only Mina knows different. Only Mina carries the weight of what might be, what could be, what maybe shouldn't be.
Only Mina knows that somewhere in France, on a sunny morning that hasn't happened yet, two rings catch the light like promises.
Or maybe like warnings.