Nayeon
She leaned against the cold glass, watching as rain poured down the airport windows. The storm outside was relentless, its fierce winds and sheets of rain sweeping across the runway, grounding all flights and, with them, any sense of calm she’d hoped to find. They’d just come from Korea, and though the journey itself wasn’t long, exhaustion hung over them like never before.
The girls were scattered around the waiting area, each finding a small corner of rest or company while they waited for their next leg of work. She spotted Momo, who sat with Jihyo on one of the benches, both of them lost in thought, staring at nothing in particular. Mina, on the other hand, was surrounded by the hair and makeup team, who fussed over every stray hair and tiny smudge, making sure she looked flawless despite the weather.
Nayeon let out a sigh, feeling her own makeup smudged and barely hanging on. She was too tired to care. But she watched Mina, who seemed both serene and detached, perfectly composed even with the chaos surrounding her. Mina had a certain quiet charm—something magnetic that drew people in without her ever having to try.
She took a deep breath, letting the scene set in before her, Nayeon felt a familiar presence beside her. She glanced to her side and saw Sana approaching, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.
“Hey,” Sana murmured, folding her arms with a playful smile. “I think Im the one who needs the touch-ups now. I look like I’ve been through the storm myself.”
Nayeon rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile as she dug through her bag and handed over her lipstick. “You’ll survive. Besides, it’s not like you’re the main attraction right now. Look at Mina—everyone loves her. She just has… something. Makes people want to be around her.”
Sana took the lipstick and tilted her head thoughtfully as she watched Mina, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “She does have that effect, doesn’t she? She doesn’t even realize it.”
Nayeon hummed in agreement, feeling a pang of something she couldn’t quite name. It was admiration, maybe—a bit of envy, too. Mina’s effortless allure was something she’d never quite mastered, despite her years in the spotlight. And yet, she couldn’t deny there was something comforting in knowing she wasn’t alone in that admiration. Sana, as usual, seemed to understand.
“Thanks,” Sana said, holding up the lipstick to her face.
“Better,” Nayeon teased, rolling her eyes with a smirk. “Not like you needed it anyway.”
They shared a small laugh, a quiet bubble of warmth amidst the dull hum of the airport and the relentless rain outside. Nayeon let herself settle into the comfort of Sana’s presence, grateful for the brief reprieve from the chaos around them.
The moment was broken as soon as her phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down at the screen and found a text from one of their managers, urging them to get out of the airport as soon as possible. The vans were waiting just outside, and given the looming storm, they didn’t want to waste any more time than they had to.
Tell the girls to hurry, and get outside.Let’s get to the hotel before things get worse.
She sighed, pocketing her phone and looking around at the others. They looked just as weary as she felt, and she hesitated, wanting to give them a moment of rest. But with the storm outside raging even stronger, they couldn’t risk it. “Alright, everyone!” she called out, her voice cutting through the murmur of the waiting area.
But before she could say more, Jihyo was on her feet, already reading the room with a quick glance and taking control. “Alright, you heard Nayeon,” she said, with a firm but gentle voice. “Get your things together and let’s move quickly. No distractions. We don’t want to deal with any paparazzi or get caught up in the weather. Stick together.”
Nayeon couldn’t help but smile to herself as she watched Jihyo in action. Their leader had a knack for rallying the group, even in moments like this when everyone was on edge and exhausted. So as the girls gathered their belongings, Jihyo began organizing them into two teams for the two vans that would take them to the hotel.
“First van: Nayeon, Momo, Mina, and me,” Jihyo instructed, giving each of them a nod. “Everyone else, you’ll be in the other one.”
The group quickly got on their feet, grabbing their bags and double-checking their belongings. Nayeon felt the usual hum of anticipation mixed with tension; she wasn’t exactly eager to face the chaos waiting outside, but she also longed for the comfort of a quiet hotel room after the nonstop pace of their day.
They reached the airport exit, flashes from outside confirmed their suspicions. A cluster of paparazzi had gathered near the doors, eager to snap photos despite the rain that poured down in heavy, unrelenting sheets. Jihyo led the way, ushering them forward with a sense of calm, though her jaw was set with determination. She kept her head low, directing the girls to follow suit.
The first van opened its door, and Nayeon climbed in first, ducking past the blinding flashes of cameras and the calls of reporters who were practically shouting over the noise of the storm. Once she was inside, she quickly moved all the way to the back, helping the manager load her luggage in next to her before she settled into her seat.
It didn’t take long for Momo to climb in and take the seat beside her, giving Nayeon a tired but grateful smile. “That was intense,” she muttered, brushing a few stray raindrops off her hair.
She nodded, leaning her head back against the seat with a sigh. “Tell me about it. At least we’re out of there now.”
Mina came in next, shaking off her umbrella before folding it up and taking the seat directly in front of Nayeon. Despite the weariness that showed in her eyes, she still managed to look composed, and Nayeon couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly Mina seemed to command attention—even when she was just sliding into her seat in a rain-soaked van.
Finally, Jihyo climbed in, closing the door firmly behind her before settling into the seat next to Mina. “Alright, everyone ready?” she asked, her eyes canning over the group with that reassuring bit of leadership that always seemed to ground them.
The van began to pull away from the airport, and Nayeon felt the tension in her shoulders start to ease—at least until she noticed the raindrops streaking down the windows in relentless streams. The roads were slick and dark, with streetlights barely visible through the heavy rain. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold off the chill that seemed to seep into the van despite its warmth.
Momo’s gentle nudge brought her out of her thoughts. “You okay?” she asked, her voice low but warm.
“Yeah, just... tired, I guess,” Nayeon replied, giving her a reassuring smile. She glanced around the van at her friends, her gaze lingering on each one. There was comfort in being surrounded by them, despite the chaos they’d left behind. It was a quiet reminder that they were all in this together, facing the same storm—both literally and figuratively.
She turned Mina, who was staring out the window, her profile illuminated by the faint glow of passing lights. Mina seemed lost in thought, her expression contemplative as she traced patterns in the condensation on the glass. Nayeon felt the same pang— something she couldn’t quite place—admiration, maybe, or the familiar sense of closeness that had grown between them over years of shared experiences.
“Long day, huh?” she ventured, her voice soft enough to barely reach Mina’s ears.
Mina turned around, and met her gaze with a small smile that held a hint of weariness. “Feels like it never ends.”
She chuckled softly, glancing over at Momo, who gave an exaggerated sigh of agreement. “You can say that again,” Momo said, leaning her head back against the seat with a playful groan. “I think my eyes are starting to close on their own.”
Jihyo laughed from her seat, her gaze meeting theirs in the rearview mirror. “Hang in there. We’ll be at the hotel soon enough.”
The rhythmic hum of the road and the steady patter of rain on the windows created a strange calm in the van, yet Nayeon couldn’t relax. She glanced at the others, taking in their quiet exhaustion and the way they all seemed to sink into their seats, drained from the day. But as her gaze drifted to the rain-streaked window beside her, a different kind of tension settled in her chest.
She looked out at the storm, watching as the city lights blurred through the downpour. Her thoughts drifted back to how they’d even ended up here, rushing through a foreign airport in the middle of a tropical storm. It seemed reckless, maybe even absurd, to be out here at all, caught in the chaos of rain and uncertainty.
They didn’t have a choice, though, did they? The company that had hired them for these commercials had been patient—maybe too patient. With Twice’s packed schedule, the shoot had been pushed back so many times that Nayeon had lost track. There was always another project, another comeback, another commitment that seemed more urgent.
Then, finally, the ultimatum had come.
Either you come to Japan now and get it done, or we’re done with Twice. For good.
The message was clear, and there had been no room for negotiation. She understood that; everyone did. They couldn’t afford to turn down opportunities, not in an industry that moved so quickly, where relevance could slip away as easily as sand through their fingers. But as she sat there, watching the rain pound against the glass and feeling the van’s tires slip ever so slightly on the wet road, she couldn’t help but wonder at what cost they’d agreed to it.
Looking around at the others—Momo, Jihyo—she felt the weight of that decision settle even deeper in her chest. They were here because they had to be, because, ultimately, their dreams and ambitions demanded it. This was the price they paid, pushing themselves beyond exhaustion, traveling across countries and through storms for the sake of their careers.
And yet, as much as she questioned the decision, there was a strange comfort in knowing they were facing it as a group. Each of them had made this choice, had accepted the sacrifices and the risks.
Nayeon leaned her head against the cool glass, her breath misting the window slightly as she exhaled. The storm continued to rage outside, an unyielding force that matched the uncertainty stirring within her.
It didn’t last long, her wondering in her head. She was pulled out of her thoughts by a soft, frustrated sound from the seat in front of her.
At first, it was barely more than a whisper—a quiet curse under Mina’s breath. Then another. The tension in her voice drew Nayeon’s attention, and she glanced up, noticing Mina rifling through her bag with an almost frantic energy.
“Is everything okay?” Nayeon asked, watching as Mina’s expression shifted from mild frustration to genuine worry.
The girl didn’t hear her, too absorbed in her search. She muttered under her breath, eyes darting across the pockets of her bag, her hands digging through each compartment, then back again as if anything would magically appear there. Her movements became more erratic, more desperate with each second that passed.
“Mina?” Jihyo’s voice was soft but laced with worry, catching on to the growing unease in Mina’s expression.
Mina looked up, her face pale as she finally registered her friends’ attention. She was hesitant, like she didn’t want to admit what was clearly bothering her. “I… I think I lost my phone,” she said quietly, a hint of disbelief in her tone.
Nayeon felt a pang of sympathy as Mina’s eyes darted around the van, as if the phone might somehow have found its way out of her bag and into a corner of the vehicle. “Are you sure?” Nayeon asked gently. “Maybe it’s just buried under everything in there.”
Mina shook her head, biting her lip. “I had it in the airport. I’m sure of it. I must have… I don’t know, I must have left it somewhere with...” Her voice quivered, and Nayeon could sense the frustration laced with anxiety that was building beneath Mina’s calm exterior.
Momo, ever practical, pulled out her own phone. “Want me to call it? Maybe we’ll hear it ring if it somehow slipped under one of the seats.”
But Mina’s hand shot out in a quick wave, a look of embarrassment crossing her face. “No, that won’t help. I… I turned it off at the airport,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a murmur. “I was too distracted with everyone fussing over me, and I didn’t think… I just... I turned it off to save battery.”
A small silence filled the van as they all processed her words. The faint disappointment was mutual but gentle, each girl exchanging sympathetic glances. Nayeon could see Mina’s frustration mounting, her cheeks turning pink with a mix of embarrassment and regret. She reached forward, lightly patting Mina’s shoulder. “Good thing nothing personal was in it, right?, it’s okay. You’ll get a new phone soon enough. It happens.”
Jihyo chimed in, her voice soothing. “Yeah, it’s just a phone. You can replace it,” she said, not wanting to make the girl feel even worse. “And I’ll back you up with Lee, won’t let him scold you too much.”
But Mina seemed barely consoled. She slumped slightly in her seat, a look of devastation crossing her face as she stared down at her empty hands. “It’s just… my score…” she muttered, her voice full of disbelief and sadness.
It took Nayeon a moment to realize what she was talking about, but when it hit her, she couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through her as she realized Mina’s true concern. “Wait… you mean all this panic is because of your game?”
Mina’s cheeks flushed an even darker shade of red and she crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “It’s not just a game. I had so much progress. Months of work. I was so close to leveling up…” She trailed off, casting a sheepish look at the others, as if only now realizing how it must have sounded.
The van filled with laughter, and the tension lifted just a little as each of the girls let out small chuckles at Mina’s expense.
“Of course,” Momo teased, nudging Mina’s shoulder from behind. “Only you would be more worried about a game than the actual phone.”
Mina’s pout deepened, but Nayeon could see the corners of her mouth twitching, her mood gradually softening. She sighed, looking down at her empty hands, a wry smile finally appearing. “Fine, go ahead and laugh. But I was really close to finishing that, and beating Jeong.”
Jihyo reached into her bag and pulled out her own phone, holding it out to Mina with a playful smile. “Here,” she said, handing it over with a wink. “You can use mine. It’s not much but it’s better than starting from zero, right?.”
Mina looked up, surprised, before her face broke into a smile that chased away the last traces of her earlier frustration. She took Jihyo’s phone gratefully, her eyes bright with appreciation. “You don’t mind?”
Jihyo shrugged with a grin. “I mean... We can’t have you moping the whole trip, can we?”
Nayeon shook her head, grinning as she watched the exchange. There was a warmth in the van now that hadn’t been there before, a shared sense of camaraderie and lightness that felt like a balm against the tension from earlier.
She watched the girl secretly, now happily setting up her game on Jihyo’s phone, Nayeon couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of affection for each of them—these girls who, despite their own exhaustion and worries, never failed to lift each other up. They were more than friends; they were her family, her steady anchor in a storm that stretched far beyond the weather outside.
Nayeon felt a soft warmth in her chest as she watched. It was Jihyo’s easy generosity that struck her the most, a reminder of all the quiet, selfless acts that seemed to come naturally to their friend. Her gaze lingered on Jihyo’s profile, her friend’s face calm and focused, and without meaning to, Nayeon found herself slipping into a memory.
She could almost feel the cool air of the practice room again, the steady thrum of music in the background, and the hard, uncomfortable press of the couch beneath her. They’d been rehearsing for hours that day, working through choreography that seemed to grow more complicated with each run-through. Her feet throbbed, a dull, relentless ache pulsing through her ankles and up her calves, but she’d forced herself to push past it, unwilling to admit that she’d made the rookie mistake of wearing the wrong shoes.
She’d collapsed onto the couch during their break, letting out a quiet, exhausted sigh as she tried to ignore the shooting pains that made her want to tear her shoes off. The others were scattered around the room, catching their breath, drinking water, or simply stretching out their sore muscles. She’d glanced around, her usual brightness dulled by fatigue, hoping no one would notice the subtle grimace that slipped across her face each time she shifted her feet.
They were just about to start up again when Jihyo reentered the room. Nayeon didn’t think much of it—she was too focused on bracing herself for another round of dancing. But as she leaned forward, trying to gather the strength to stand, she noticed Jihyo moving toward her, holding something in her hands.
The girl crouched down to her level, her gaze warm yet firm as she held out a pair of shoes—Nayeon’s size, soft and supportive, perfect for practice. “Here,” she said, her voice gentle. “These should help.”
Nayeon looked at her, caught off guard. “What? How did you…?”
Jihyo smiled, tilting her head as if the answer were obvious. “It wasn’t fun watching you wince in pain. You can be stubborn all you want, but you can’t fool me, Nayeon.”
She took the shoes, her heart swelling with gratitude. It was such a simple gesture, but it felt like so much more. Jihyo had noticed, had paid attention to the small signs that no one else had picked up on, and she’d taken the time to help without making a fuss about it.
Nayeon slipped off her old shoes, wincing slightly as she did. The difference was immediate—a gentle relief spreading through her feet, lightening the ache she’d forced herself to ignore. She stood, testing them out, and felt a smile tugging at her lips.
“Thanks, Ji” she’d whispered.
The girl waved it off, flashing her a quick grin. “Just take care of yourself, okay? We need you at your best.”
Back in the van, she shook herself from the memory, her heart still lightened by the memory of Jihyo’s gentle words and thoughtful actions. She looked over at her friend, who was now laughing softly with Mina, and felt a rush of affection. Jihyo was their anchor, the one who noticed the things others missed, who somehow always knew what each of them needed—even if they didn’t know it themselves.
Nayeon leaned back in her seat again, she couldn’t help the smile at that familiar tug in her heart. She didn’t say anything, didn’t interrupt the lingering moment that filled the van, but in her mind, she made a quiet promise to herself to be there for Jihyo, even in the small moments, just as Jihyo had always been there for her.
/////////
The rain had finally stopped, leaving behind only dark, thick clouds and mist clinging to the edges of the roads. Nayeon, like the others, had drifted into a light sleep, the rhythmic hum of the van and the cool air lulling her into a much-needed rest.
But the calm was broken by muffled voices up front. She stirred, eyes fluttering open, still groggy as she processed the commotion. Their driver was talking with someone outside—a police officer, judging by the reflective vest and the radio crackling in his hand. She caught bits and pieces of the conversation, each fragment bringing her further out of her half-dream.
“…closed roads… flooding from the storm… no direct way through…”
The words settled over her, and she shifted, looking at the other girls as they began to rouse too.
She looked and waited as the officer finished giving directions, the driver returned to the van, shutting the door behind him with a resigned sigh. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice laced with genuine regret. “The roads are flooded ahead, and most routes are closed. The only option now is to turn around. We’ll have to go back and take a different route.”
Disappointment swept through, not directed at the driver, but at the situation itself. Another two hours on the road—two hours just to get back to where they started, and then even more time to circle around the flooding. It felt almost surreal, like a nightmare where every turn only led them farther from their destination.
“Are you kidding me?” Momo murmured, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “We’ve been on the road for so long…”
Nayeon felt a pang of sympathy for her, for all of them. They’d been pushing themselves to the limit, and now, to face yet another setback, another delay—she could see the discouragement in each of their eyes. She could feel it in herself, too, a heaviness settling in her bones that no amount of sleep seemed to relieve.
“Well, I know it’s rough,” Jihyo said, trying to keep her tone calm but unable to mask the frustration in her own voice. “But it’s not like there’s another option.”
“Do you think we could at least stop for a while? Just to stretch our legs or get something to eat? There’s a restaurant right there.” She looked as Momo pointed to a small building just off the side of the road, its dim lights glowing warmly against the gloom outside.
The idea caught on quickly. She could feel the relief that swept through at the suggestion—a chance to break free from the cramped space, to breathe in the cool, damp air and maybe feel a bit more human again. They all exchanged glances, nodding, their expressions softening slightly at the thought of a break.
“Can we?,” Jihyo questioned Park—their manager—that was in already discussing possible routes with the driver. “We’re all a little worn out. Just a quick stop to get some food and take a break.”
She looked the woman in the eyes, watching her pale face and small patches of sweat cling to her face. “Yeah, I could use a break from the road too. An hour tops.” Park always had a hard time on the road, motion sickness often taking a toll on her. “Eat something light. There’ll be no more breaks, no more bathroom stops.”
A spark of relief eased her. She followed Momo out of the van, stretching her arms above her head, stepping on the wet pavement. The air was cool and heavy, filled with the earthy scent of rain-soaked ground and the faint hum of traffic in the distance. She inhaled deeply, feeling a little bit of her weariness dull as the fresh air washed over her.
They walked and she noticed the fatigue etched into each of the girls faces, the dark circles under their eyes and the slow, dragging movements as they moved through the misty day.
Inside the restaurant they were greeted by the sweet air filled with the comforting aroma of freshly made food. It was a modest place, the kind that seemed untouched by the hustle of the city, with a handful of small tables and chairs and a counter where a cheerful-looking man was chatting with known customers.
They picked a table near the back, and Nayeon settled into her seat with a sigh, feeling her body fully relax for the first time that day. The others took their seats, Momo dropping into her chair with a grateful groan as she stretched her legs out in front of her.
“This is better,” Momo murmured, closing her eyes for a moment as she let herself sink into the comfort of the quiet, cozy space. “I feel like I could fall asleep right here.”
Nayeon smiled, sharing a glance with Jihyo across the table. She could feel the tension beginning to melt away, a sense of camaraderie filling the space as they all settled into the calm. It wasn’t much—just a small, out-of-the-way restaurant and a brief respite from the endless road ahead—but it was enough to cheer them up a little.
They ordered and waited for their food. Bowls and plates filled the table, and the girls dug in gratefully, savoring the comfort of a real meal after hours on the road.
They ate mostly in silence, the whispered conversations drifting lazily between them, filling the small space with laughter and easy smiles. “So, how was it in the other van?” Nayeon asked, raising an eyebrow as she glanced over at Sana and Jeongyeon.
“Oh, peaceful, really,” Sana replied with a mischievous grin, exchanging a knowing look with Jeongyeon. “The young ones behaved for once. Barely a peep out of them.”
Jeongyeon snorted, shaking her head. “More like they were asleep the whole time. I swear their snores sound the same when they’re this drained.”
The table burst into laughter, Momo nearly choking on her rice as she tried to suppress a giggle. Mina, ever the soft-hearted one, pouted slightly in defense of their younger members. “Well, they’ve had a long day too, you know. Let them rest a little.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Jeongyeon said, waving a hand dismissively. “We only took a couple of videos. They were fine—probably better off than you all were in that cramped van.”
Nayeon smirked, nudging Jihyo with her elbow. “See, they didn’t have to suffer like we did,” she said, her tone playful but with a hint of exaggerated drama. “Maybe we should demand a switch next time.”
They all shared more, Nayeon looking around the table, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the food, a welcome tenderness she was so used to feeling by now. A sense of belonging that seemed to anchor her amidst the chaos.
But a sudden movement at the counter caught Nayeon’s eye, taking her out of her trance. A man stood there, speaking with the owner as he loaded wooden boxes onto the counter, his arms filled with bags of rice, cans of soup, and all sorts of food. Her gaze drifted over the items, her curiosity piqued when she noticed a large box filled with bottles—vodka, tequila, and a bit of everything else, all packed together like an impromptu bar on the go.
The girls grew quiet, their conversation fading as they watched the peculiar interaction as well. He seemed to be a regular here, chatting with the owner in an easy, familiar way as he stacked his supplies. They continued watching, half out of curiosity and half out of boredom, their interest deepening when they heard a snatch of the conversation.
“Big haul today,” the owner remarked with a chuckle, nodding toward the box of alcohol. “Got a party planned?”
The man grinned, adjusting his grip on the box. “You could say that. Headed out to the island nearby—meeting some friends for a huge bash. Figured we’d go all out with food and drinks, you know? Should be a good time. My boats big enough for us to make something out of it.”
Nayeon didn’t even have to turn to know that Jihyo was already looking her way. The same spark in her friend’s eyes that had just ignited in her own. It was a glimmer of something—a possibility, a half-formed idea that was slowly taking shape in her mind. She saw the corners of Jihyo’s mouth lift in the smallest hint of a smile, a silent understanding passing between them as they listened to the man describe his plans.
Neither of them spoke, but they didn’t need to. The idea was there, hovering between them, unspoken but undeniable. Nayeon felt a thrill at the thought, her heart beating a little faster as she imagined what this could mean. She looked back at Jihyo, nodding in silent agreement.
Ever the natural leader, the girl straightened up and turned to the group, her voice low in a whisper but full of purpose. She had that look on her face—the one that meant she’d already thought through all the angles, the one that made everyone instinctively trust her judgment.
“Alright,” Jihyo began, gathering everyone’s attention. “Here’s the deal.” She glanced around, her eyes meeting each of theirs, excitement mingling with the steady determination that was always so characteristic of her. “We’re splitting in two. One team will go talk to that guy,” she nodded toward the man still loading supplies onto his boat, “and ask if he’ll give us a ride. We’ll tell him the truth—that the roads are closed and we’re desperate to get to our hotel, and if he agrees, it’ll save us hours.”
She focused. They needed to all be on the same page for it to work, for them to convince everyone that this was a good idea, a flawless plan.
“The rest,” Jihyo went on, her gaze shifting to the other half of the group, “talk to the managers. We’ll need to convince them, obviously. I know they’ll hesitate—but were not exactly asking to go alone, they can come with us—we just have to look really miserable... or really desperate.”
She offered to go with Momo and Mina—thanks to their Japanese— to talk to the guy. To explain everything that had happened and why they needed, desperately, his help to get to their hotel faster. There weren’t any other boats willing to take them, they’d talked about it with their managers in the airport. So she would offer support to the girls mostly, not being bale to speak fluently herself.
“Just...,” Jihyo said, looking pointedly at Nayeon and her group, “we need to make this sound as urgent as possible. It’s not just that we want to get there faster; it’s that we have no other choice. Be polite, but make it clear that we’re in a bind.”
She liked the feeling of adventure—the rush this small quest was giving her—feeling the surge of adrenaline that came with a new challenge. It was ridiculous, maybe, this whole plan—but she trusted Jihyo’s instincts, and deep down, she knew they didn’t really have a better chance to make this whole trip a bit more...bearable.
So the two groups split up, and Nayeon made her way toward the docks with Momo and Mina, her eyes flicking back once to see Jihyo and the others approaching the two managers who’d accompanied them. Park still looked a bit pale, even from a distance. It seamed like the resting break hadn’t helped her at all.
She trailed behind both girls, it made sense for them to take the lead—both spoke fluent Japanese, and they’d have a better chance of persuading the man to help them. Nayeon knew they had this covered, so she stayed a step back, letting her expression shift to one of polite desperation to try and pull at the strings of the mans heart.
He heard them approach, his eyes locking straight with hers, one hand holding a stack of supplies, the other braced against the side of his boat. His expression was one of mild curiosity as he took in the group, but Nayeon could see the uncertainty lurking in his eyes.
“Excuse me,” Momo began, bowing her head slightly before flashing him a warm smile. “We were hoping you could help us. We’re trying to get to our hotel, but the storm closed the roads.”
He raised an eyebrow, glancing between her and Mina now. Nayeon could sense the slight skepticism in his gaze but watched as Mina stepped in, her voice steady but urgent. “We’ve already been traveling for hours, and the only way for us to get there now is by boat.” Mina was selling it, a master at work with how she embodied the sad look on her face. “It’s been a long day, and we just need to reach our destination. We wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t urgent.”
The man hesitated, his eyes shifting to the boat, as if weighing the logistics in his head. Momo seized the moment, adding softly, “It would save us so much time. We’re all exhausted. Please, if there’s any way you could help…”
She kept her eyes on the boat, looking and thinking that it was the perfect size for them to fit in it. She heard and vaguely understood a couple of words here and there as Momo and Mina continued to explain. Continued to make their case sound convincing enough.
He seemed to have fallen quickly for it, or maybe he just wasn’t the type to fight whatever it was that the world threw his way. “We can try,” he said finally. Not even faced by the request, like it was a normal occurrence for nine girls to ask this way on a regular basis “I can make room for a few more people, but it’ll be tight.”
Momo’s face brightened in relief, and Mina bowed her head gratefully. “Thank you so much,” Mina said, her voice filled with sincerity. “You’re saving our whole trip.”
He continued loading his stuff as they went for the rest of the girls, asking them not to take long since he had people waiting for him too. So they made their way back to the restaurant, relieved at how easy it had been on their part, now they just had to hope Jihyo and the others where having a breeze with their managers as well.
Park looked sick. Like she would throw up any minute now kind of sick. the woman had her arms crossed and a slight frown on her face, the idea of going on a boat ride not a priority on her list. But she listened as Jihyo pitched their plan to the woman. It clearly wasn’t landing as well as she expected.
She could sense it. How both managers were unwilling to let them go on an unplanned boat ride with a stranger. Nayeon caught Jihyo’s eye, and she could see the frustration there, the worry that their plan might fall apart at the last moment. They knew convincing them would be the toughest part, persistence would be the only way about it.
But it was Jeongyeon who stepped forward this time, her voice steady, “Look, if it’ll help put your mind at ease, I’ll stay behind with Park to make sure she’s okay. You don’t have to worry about all of us going. I’ll stay here with you, and Lee can go with them. Make sure everything’s fine in that end.”
The girls got quiet, letting Jeongyeons words sink in. A wave of admiration ran across Nayeon for such selflessness by the girl, the way she so easily offered to stay back. She didn’t want to leave Jeongyeon behind, but the gesture was powerful, a testament to her dedication to the team and their well-being.
Park and Lee exchanged a quick look, their faces easing as they considered her offer. After a beat, park rolled her eyes, letting out a sigh as she waved a hand in reluctant surrender. “ You don’t need to play the hero.” she said, though there was no bite and the note of approval in her voice made it clear she fell for Jeong’s gesture.
“Just this time,” Lee said, as he surrounded to the pressure they radiated when together. “Don’t look so smug. Just this once cause I can see how you’ll pass out if you dont get some rest right this moment.”
Nayeon watched as they collectively let out the breath she didn’t know they were all holding, their exhaustion temporarily forgotten in the excitement of finally receiving the go-ahead. She couldn’t help but smile, shooting Jeongyeon a grateful look. Jihyo gave her a quick pat on the back, clearly thankful for Jeongyeon’s willingness to step up, even if it hadn’t come to that.
The manager’s face turned serious as she laid out her conditions, her tone firm. “But there’re rules, don’t get too excited now: you’re checking in with us every five minutes. And I mean it. I want updates, either by call or by text, and you don’t ignore any calls from us.” Parks tone didn’t leave room for argument. “And once you get to the hotel, you stay there—no wandering off, no detours. Last thing we need is to deal with any PR issues.”
They nodded, acknowledging the importance and the seriousness of the moment. They understood that, as unconventional as this plan was, they needed to follow the managers’ instructions to the dot. They were already bending enough rules as it was.
Jihyo stepped forward. “We understand, and I’ll keep them in check... Thanks for trusting us to do this.”
The manager waved her off, muttering something about them “risking their necks for a shortcut” but Nayeon could tell she was relieved fro them too. They knew how tiring the trip had been, especially with their non-stop work before coming here.
They hurried and gathered their things, heading back to the dock, where the man waited in his boat. He helped Nayeon step aboard, feeling her heart race a little— nerves and excitement completely taking over her body.
She glanced at Jihyo, who was busy giving one last check-in with Lee, and then at Jeongyeon, who had effortlessly bridged the gap between the team and their reluctant managers. They were all in this together, and as the boat began to shift with their weight, Nayeon couldn’t help but feel thrilled. The unexpected journey giving her a sense of adventure, making her forget the tiresome day they’d had.
Whatever happened—wether they got scolded or not for the impromptu detour—they would face it together, all of them, as a team.