Chapter Text
Music pounded through the air, reverberating in the floorboards of the house, making the walls seem to quiver. Wendy was sitting on the stairwell, alone, watching the crowd that was sprawled in various parts of the house. She was lazily clutching onto a red solo cup, warm beer dregs settled at the bottom. A cigarette dangled from her lips, stained with red lipstick, though it wasn’t hers. Every so often Joy, her best friend and the very reason she always found herself at these parties, would drift by and want a hit. Wendy would never deny Joy anything she asked for; she was just as much under Joy’s spell as everyone else was. Five foot six with a killer body, gorgeous face, and the confidence to know she was both sexy and cute made Joy a whole other type of mesmerizing. She had practically everyone wrapped around her finger.
As Wendy flicked her cigarette butt into the nearly empty cup, she spotted Joy dancing in a throng of people, long auburn hair in a high ponytail, swaying as she moved. She wore tight black jeans, high heeled boots that came high up on her legs, and a red tank top that read “god is watching so give her a good show.” Wendy rolled her eyes at that; the t-shirt was so Joy, such a perfect fit for the quick witted, bold, brassy girl who was not afraid to tell how it how it is. A girl Wendy recognized from her economics class, Momo, approached Joy, who looked delighted to see her and gave her a big hug. Momo had long, straight black hair with bluntly cut bangs that highlighted the angularity of her face. Wendy had had bangs for as long as she could remember but they never looked as nice as Momo’s seemed to.
Joy pulled Momo closer, getting her to dance, their bodies moving in rhythm. Joy had always been the one to dance at parties, Wendy preferring to hang on the sidelines and observe. Wendy looked away for a split second, trying to locate a keg so she could get more beer, and when she glanced back to Joy she and Momo were kissing, fiercely and passionately, right in the middle of the living room at some random person from their high school’s house. Wendy quickly looked away, staring at the floor, then decided to go into the kitchen so she didn’t have to watch. It wasn’t that she was jealous, she certainly didn’t like Joy like that, she just felt like she was intruding somehow.
She meandered into the kitchen, which was pretty much deserted, except for Jeongyeon, another girl from Wendy’s economics class. She had shoulder length, light brown hair that was pushed back behind her shoulders, kept out of the way as she lit the blunt between her lips. She glanced up when Wendy stepped into the room, putting the lighter on the counter and exhaling slowly, pinching the blunt in her fingers. “Hey.” She said quietly. “Let me guess, Joy and Momo are making out again?” Wendy nodded, confused as to how Jeongyeon had guessed correctly- and wait, again?!
“Again?” Wendy mumbled.
“Yeah, last week at some other party.” Jeongyeon waved her free hand, indicating details didn’t matter. “You weren’t there, I assume.”
“I was grounded.” Wendy said with a sigh. Her mom had found her stash of weed again and had grounded her for a month. This was the first party she’d been to since she was off probation.
“Happens to the best of us.” Jeongyeon joked. She offered the joint to Wendy. “You want a hit?” Wendy nodded, taking it, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke light a fire of sweetness and dizziness in her lungs before letting it all out with a low exhale. It made her feel calm and serene, like nothing mattered. That was her favorite part of getting high, forgetting about how angry and sad she was all the time. “Those two out there,” Jeongyeon shook her head laughing. “They’re never going to date, thank god. They just like the no commitment thing.” A sigh. “I’ve never understood it.”
“You like commitment?” Wendy asked, surprised. Her limited knowledge of Jeongyeon had not made her think she would be the type to want to find love and settle down.
“Oh yeah.” Jeongyeon grinned to herself a little. “I mean, maybe it’s just because I love my girlfriend.”
“You have a girlfriend?” Wendy was shocked. She hadn’t thought anyone at her school was actually gay and out. The only other person besides herself she knew for sure was queer was Joy, and she dabbled in a little bit of everything so it was easier for her to hide (though she did have a preference for girls, exhibit A, Momo).
“Yeah.” Jeongyeon was always very straightforward. “You know Im Nayeon?”
“She’s a senior, right?” Wendy was still learning everyone’s names, considering she had only transferred to the school she was at at the end of the previous year. She’d had a summer to forget everyone’s names and now it was mid November and she was still trying to play catch up learning about everyone when they had all known each other since kindergarten.
“Mhm.” Jeongyeon said. “We’ve been dating since my freshman year.”
“I didn’t know you were gay.” Wendy blurted out, instantly regretting it. “Sorry, drinking makes me lose my filter a little.”
Jeongyeon laughed. “It’s okay,” She took it goodnaturedly, as she took most things. “Yeah, there’s not a lot of us. At least not out, that is. I mean I know just about everyone but my lips are sealed.” She mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key.
“How do you know?” Wendy was curious, as she always was. She wanted people like her to be at her school.
“I have ears everywhere.” Jeongyeon wiggled her eyebrows jokingly, making Wendy laugh a little. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she checked it, rolling her eyes but smiling while she did it. “I gotta go, Nayeon is here to pick me up.” She scooped up her Ziploc bag of weed. “If you ever need a plug for weed, hit me up.” She gave Wendy a little salute. “I charge ten dollars less than everyone else and my shit is never synthetic.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” Wendy half smiled. Jeongyeon went out the back door and Wendy found herself alone once again, the thumping of the bass hitting her bones, coursing through her bloodstream, making her heart shake in her chest.
~
Irene’s pencil delicately dragged lead smears onto the page of her sketchbook, curving softly, then harshly, deliberately darker to add texture, slowly but surely creating an angel’s wings. She was always doodling angels everywhere, and in her free time she would fully sketch them and then hide them in the bottom drawer of her desk where she also hid her prayer journal. She hummed to herself while she sketched, a mix of different hymns from church. Saturday nights were typically dull for Irene; she knew most of her classmates were various places drinking and partying, but she preferred to stay home and keep to herself. She’d been keeping to herself since kindergarten so she was quite good at it.
“As I watch the rising sun,” Irene sang softly, feeling immediately soothed by the words. It was her favorite hymn and always calmed her. She only sang in private, never to anyone else, especially not at church. When she was young she had been in the church choir, but she was far too shy now to do anything like that. So she kept her hymnal singing to herself. “When the day has just begun, I am thinking of the love that comes daily from above.” She stopped drawing, closing her eyes, feeling like the entire weight of the world was resting on her shoulders. She couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t felt like this. There was just so much pressure, constantly, to be perfect. The perfect student, the perfect daughter, the perfect Catholic. It all felt too much for Irene’s frail shoulders to bear.
She had homework she should start, lots of Calculus to drag herself through, problem after problem, but she just could not bring herself to abandon the angel she was sketching. This angel had stars in her hair and held the moon in her hands, with a halo of the solar system crowning her head. Drawing was the only thing that ever seemed to calm Irene, aside from praying. But lately prayer had become stressful, so she had turned more often times to drawing, angels upon angels, everywhere she could possibly imagine. Sometimes, she would draw her classmates as angels. She had started with Seulgi, the only person even remotely close to a friend she had, but only because they had a lot of classes together. The Seulgi angel had a bright grin and sunflowers on her wings. It was one of Irene’s favorites.
A knock drew Irene from her intense focus and she quickly slammed her sketchbook shut as the door to her bedroom pushed open. Her mom peeked her head inside, smiling and saying, “You should probably get to bed soon, since we have church in the morning.” This was routine every Saturday night.
“I’m just finishing something up really quick.” Irene said in reply, half smiling. “I’ll get to bed soon.”
“Alright.” Her mom agreed pleasantly. “Goodnight sweetheart.”
“Night mom.” Irene waved a little as her mom shut the door softly. She did not get to bed soon, despite her promise; she was up until nearly one o’clock in the morning finishing the portrait of the angel, who looked like someone but she couldn’t quite tell who.