Beneath the Surface
Winter Kim had never been one for small talk. She preferred to observe, to study people from a distance, always watching but never participating. In a room full of noise and laughter, she remained still—almost invisible—while others reveled in the chaos of their lives. It was easier that way. But tonight, something was different. The quiet pull of Karina Yu’s presence was undeniable.
Winter had always been good at hiding her emotions, at masking the thoughts and feelings that threatened to surface. But Karina had a way of making everything more complicated. The way her smile lingered in Winter’s mind long after she’d turned away, the way her eyes would meet hers just long enough to send a ripple of something she couldn’t define through her chest.
She told herself it was just curiosity. Karina was different from anyone she’d ever met—there was an intensity about her, an energy that Winter found fascinating. But Winter was used to playing games, used to controlling every situation. She wasn’t supposed to get caught up in her feelings, especially not for someone like Karina.
But still, she couldn’t help but notice how Karina’s presence seemed to disrupt the calm she so carefully maintained.
It started small, like the way Karina’s gaze lingered on her a little longer than it should have, as if she could see through the mask Winter wore. Winter’s breath hitched every time their eyes met, the flicker of something unspoken passing between them. It was almost as if Karina was testing her, pushing her to reveal something she wasn’t ready to share.
Tonight, they were gathered at Lia’s house again. Winter had arrived early, as usual, sitting quietly on the couch, her fingers absently tracing the edge of her phone. The others were scattered around the room, talking, laughing, but Winter kept her focus on Karina.
Karina was sitting across from her, surrounded by her friends—Giselle, Yeji, Lia, and Chaeryeong—her eyes darting nervously between them. There was something in her movements tonight, a subtle tension that Winter recognized all too well. Karina was always so composed, always so sure of herself. But tonight, Winter saw through the facade.
It was in the way Karina kept looking over her shoulder, like she was expecting someone—or something—to appear behind her at any moment. It was in the way her fingers would twitch, almost nervously, whenever she spoke. There was something haunting her, something she couldn’t escape, and Winter found herself wondering if it was the same thing that had been haunting her own mind for days.
"You okay?" Winter’s voice broke through the silence between them. It was soft, almost too soft, but it was enough to draw Karina’s attention.
Karina looked at her, and for a moment, their eyes locked. Winter could see the confusion, the wariness, behind Karina’s gaze. It was the same look she saw in the mirror every morning—like she was standing on the edge of something she didn’t quite understand.
"Yeah," Karina replied, her voice a little too quiet. "Just... tired."
Winter didn’t buy it. She could see the cracks in Karina’s mask, the way the walls she so carefully built around herself were starting to crumble. Winter leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing in on Karina’s face.
“You don’t look tired,” Winter said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You look like you’re about to snap.”
Karina blinked, the briefest flicker of vulnerability crossing her features before she quickly masked it with a forced smile. “Maybe I am.”
Winter’s heart raced, though she couldn’t understand why. She had never been this affected by anyone before—especially not someone like Karina, who was supposed to be nothing more than a distraction. But there was something in the way Karina looked at her, something that made Winter feel like she was being pulled toward a dangerous edge.
The conversation shifted, and Winter’s attention drifted back to the others. They were talking about the recent murders in Woodsboro, as they had been for days now. The town was on edge, everyone watching their backs, waiting for the next attack. The police had no leads, no suspects—just a killer in a mask, stalking the streets and sending death threats to anyone unlucky enough to catch their eye.
Karina’s friends spoke with an air of detachment, as if the murders were just another part of their lives, something they’d have to live with. But Winter could see the way Karina tensed whenever the topic was brought up. She was hiding something, Winter was sure of it. But what?
There were times when Winter would catch Karina’s eyes, and in those moments, it was as if everything in the room would fall away. It wasn’t just the obvious—Karina’s beauty, her intelligence, her strength. It was the way she carried herself, as if she knew exactly what was going on beneath the surface, as if she was playing a game too.
And Winter couldn’t help but wonder if Karina was playing the same game she was.
Later that evening, as the group began to disperse, Karina and Winter found themselves standing alone on the porch. The cool night air was thick with tension, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of a car engine.
“I never thanked you,” Karina said suddenly, her voice low. She turned to Winter, her gaze soft, almost unreadable. “For the other night. You didn’t have to stay with me.”
Winter watched her carefully, her heart beating faster than it should. “I didn’t mind.” She took a step closer, their proximity enough to make Karina shift uncomfortably. Winter noticed the way Karina’s breath hitched, her chest rising and falling a little too quickly.
Karina wasn’t hiding it as well as she thought.
“Do you think we’ll ever get out of this?” Karina asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Winter tilted her head slightly, studying Karina’s face. “Out of what?”
“This,” Karina gestured vaguely to the world around them, the town, the killings, the uncertainty that seemed to weigh heavily on everyone’s shoulders. “Do you think it’ll ever end?”
Winter’s smile was cold, almost distant. “Who knows?” she said, her voice empty of emotion. “But maybe it’s already too late.”
Karina swallowed, her eyes searching Winter’s face for something she couldn’t find. “Yeah. Maybe it is.”
The moment hung between them, thick with unspoken words, before Karina turned to leave, her footsteps hesitant but determined. Winter stood there for a moment longer, watching her go, the tension in the air lingering long after Karina was out of sight.
She didn’t need to say it aloud. She knew it, deep inside.
Karina wasn’t ready to face what she was becoming.
And Winter wasn’t ready to stop watching her fall.