Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

₊‧꒰ა ♫ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Zoey hurried through the corridors with her literature essays in hand, the paper so close to falling that it left the people watching confused. She pushes through the white door, barging into the room. Her eyes darted across the room in a panic, hoping she had made it in time.

Her eyes land on her professor's desk. Thank God. Zoey takes a moment to catch her breath before she realizes just how rude she had been. She sighs and bows to apologize for her rudeness. She drags herself to her seat, the embarrassment of entering so abruptly starting to chip at her.

However, as she silently sat on her chair, she felt she could no longer ignore the side glances thrown at her. She pulls out her phone and scrolls through her contacts to find just the right person to rant to.

Baby Boo (Danny Chung)

[Baby Bangs] · 4:33 PM

Fuck danny i totally messed up

I did something really embarrassing help

SOS i can still feel some people staring at me

[Baby Boo] · 4:33 PM

I don’t see how this is half my problem

But go on

Since im such a good friend

[Baby Bangs] · 4:34 PM

STFU

Okay so i literally just ran into the class thinking my prof was already here and guess what

HE HASNT EVEN ARRIVED YET

I PUSHED PAST LIKE TWO PEOPLE TO GET HERE AND HES LATE

!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Baby Boo] · 4:34 PM

Okay well how is it his fault that YOU woke up late and had to rush your essays

You have afternoon classes bruv, YOU DONT EVEN HAVE TO WAKE UP EARLY

[Baby Bangs] · 4:34 PM

???

I LITERALLY HAVE A NIGHT SHIFT

[Baby Boo] · 4:34 PM

YOU WORK FOUR HOURS A DAY

I WORK SIX

DONT START THIS WITH ME

[Baby Bangs] · 4:34 PM

MY CLASSES END AT 5 AND MY SHIFT STARTS AT 6 ITS LITERALLY STILL TIRING

[Baby Boo] · 4:35 PM

If its so tiring whyd u spend half of last night playing overwatch huh

Oh wow so now ur leaving me on read

I get it you dont like it when you arent right

I understand, hope you fail this semester

[Baby Bangs] · 4:35 PM

FUCK YOU DANNY

Zoey grumbles as she shoves her phone into her pocket. So much for emotional support, she thought. Her attention shifts to her papers, right. She still had to check a few of them for mistakes, but it was no biggie. It’s not like her professors at the door right now, just waiting to make a grand entrance.

“Goodmorn—afternoon, I mean! Sorry for the tardiness, I had personal matters to attend to.” Her professor cut in as he charismatically entered their lecture hall. Zoey feels her heart drop, face twisting in dread.

He sits down and pulls a pen from his pocket, “Alrighty,” He clicks it open, “I will get started on your papers. Remember, today is the due date! I will give you five extra minutes to improve some parts as an apology for being late.” Zoey’s literature professor stares at the whole class with a half-assed smile, patiently waiting for anyone to step down and pass their work. He may have seemed nice, but this professor was not the nice guy he appeared to be. He grades papers like a military general, making up for his strict grading with a welcoming personality.

Zoey hazily remembers getting warned by a senior she knew, Don't let his smile and good looks fool you, the moment you even think of slacking off, your grades will go from an A to a C minus.

She quickly pulls out her own pen and flips through her essay so unbelievably fast she isn’t even sure if she read everything correctly. But that wasn’t what mattered; the little things hardly ever mattered for these shitty essays. It was all about the big main topics her professor had discussed a few weeks beforehand. Sweat drips down Zoey’s forehead as she finishes her revision.

She nearly finishes the last paragraph before somebody taps at her shoulder. A perplexed expression on her face, Zoey turns to her seatmate.

“Uhm, sorry, just had to say… I saw the title like seven pages ago and,” The girl slowly starts to remove her earphones. “You’re a bit off topic.”

Zoey stares at the girl, jaw slightly ajar. What did she mean by off topic? Zoey questioned in her head. She doesn’t remember going anywhere near off topic. As Zoey tries to remember what she could have possibly missed, she forgets that she’s staring at the girl in front of her.

The girl’s eyes widened, “Well, uh, I’m sorry for interrupting, but I just felt the need to tell you… Wait, okay—could you turn back to that page for me?”

She had a stupid, shy smile on her face. Zoey hesitated, but the girl didn’t seem to have any bad intentions, so she obeyed shortly after. She flips through each page carefully, checking the girl's reaction. After a couple of pages, the girl hums in satisfaction.

“This one,” She points to the title as she starts to play with the sleeve cuff of her shirt, “That topic was a whole semester ago.” The girl tries to offer her a sympathetic smile, but Zoey ultimately freezes.

Zoey takes a sharp breath. A whole semester?! Are you fucking— Zoey breathes out in frustration. She nearly rolls her eyes before catching herself and remembering to thank her seatmate. Zoey turns to her (hopefully) newfound friend.

“Oh my God, thank you so much for the help—It just didn’t cross my mind.” Zoey reaches her hand out, “My name's Zoey. Choi Zoey. Nice to meet you,”

“Kim Sarah.” She said as she took Zoey’s hand and shook it. Sarah then put her earphones back on, humming the tune of whatever she was listening to. Zoey swore she knew the song, but she had bigger things to worry about.

Zoey carefully removes the part of her essay that was apparently outdated. She still can’t believe how stupid it was that she forgot to double-check if what she had was even from this semester. As she continues to check her work, the embarrassment starts to hit her again.

A seatmate she’s never talked to points out a very, very obvious mistake for her on an important essay that she’s supposed to submit in about a minute or less. Maybe she should just kill herself at this point. Zoey could only hope her seatmate didn't see the way her face was burning red in embarrassment right now.

Zoey’s eyes continued to furrow and relax every few seconds as she neared the end of her paper. As soon as she flipped through the last one, she stood up and jogged to her professor as fast as she could. He paused his task for a moment and looked up to meet her eye,

“Hm, just in time, Ms. Choi. You had a few seconds left.” Zoey’s shoulders visibly relax at his words. Gosh, he was particular about seconds? This guy needs a breather, Zoey thought to herself. He looks back down to continue grading, engrossed in his job. Zoey takes it as a sign and heads back to her seat.

She gulps, man, she really should lay off on the games. Staying up till 2 AM helps nobody but her game addiction. While Zoey scolds herself for her disastrous daily routine, a ping from her phone pulls her attention. Almost half the class looks up in confusion at the near-quiet sound, heads turning around to find out whether it came from them or someone else. She bows her head in apology and takes out her phone.

Baby Boo (Danny Chung)

[Baby Boo] · 4:46 PM

Oh yeah btw my debuts coming soon lol

Maybe u could stream my song lol

Be a good friend lol

[Baby Bangs] · 4:46 PM

???

Wasnt ur debut pushed back or smth

[Baby Boo] · 4:46 PM

No it was only pushed back a week or so

We might have like, a concert in america soon

[Baby Bangs] · 4:46 PM

Wow you havent even debuted yet and ur already thinking of concerts worldwide, i wish i had your whimsy

[Baby Boo] · 4:47 PM

I am anything BUT whimsy and you know that

I want to get paid this whole idol trainee thing wasn't even my idea

I never knew this whole thing meant eating ramen every fucking day cuz i cant afford jack shit

[Baby Bangs] · 4:47 PM

Lies i saw the way ur eyes lit up when you got accepted

[Baby Boo] · 4:48 PM

??? okay whatever bye

[Baby Bangs] · 4:48 PM

U CANT JUST

Okay………………. So u hate me

A few more minutes passed by, and all Zoey could do was endlessly scroll on Tiktok, waiting for her lecture to finally end. It bored her, but sometimes cute, stupid turtle videos were enough to keep her somewhat entertained. She was a simple person after all.

As more time flew by, Zoey started to furrow her brows. She couldn’t help but think that her professor was taking longer than he was supposed to. His lectures usually ended around 5:30 PM, and it’s already been a minute or two past it.

It gnawed at Zoey. She’s already been late for her job three times this month—if she’s late again, even her manager won’t be able to protect her from whatever the higher-ups have to say. She’d be fired on the spot. Well, not really, but her anxiety doesn’t exactly hold back on the harsh “what if” thoughts.

As soon as their professor had given the green light, Zoey practically jumped up from her seat and zoomed out of the lecture hall. Her feet started to complain halfway through the run; she could already feel the soreness that would hit after her unplanned workout. But Zoey silently reminded herself that a mere sore foot wouldn’t outweigh losing her job.

Zoey quickly takes a glance at her watch, “5:49 PM,” it said. Shit, Zoey cursed. She had less than ten minutes to somehow get to her workplace. If she’s late again, then she doesn’t even know what will happen anymore. The last thing she wants is to get fired from one of her only sources of income.

Zoey arrives at the bus stop and starts to tap her foot in nervousness. She really couldn’t afford to be late. Not today, not this month. Then finally, like an angel sent from heaven, Zoey spots a bus heading for her stop from the corner of her eye.

Thank God, repeated in her head more times than she liked to admit.

The bus ride had her all antsy; she swears it was one of the longest bus rides she’s ever been on. To calm her nerves, Zoey looks out into the window and decides to admire the big billboards placed all around the City.

On one of them was a purple-haired girl, whom Zoey assumed to be an idol. Her reasoning? She simply thought there was no way someone so pretty could be on a billboard and not be an idol. She really liked the way her eyes looked, almost as if they were pulling her in. The hair also threw her off a little; not many people were that bold with their hair color in Korea. Celebrities, most especially. Or at least she thought the idol was Korean, her features were too… familiar for her not to be. Zoey notices she’s a little too close to her stop, and tells the driver she’s right where she needs to be.

“Almost missed my stop because I was looking at pretty women on billboards, ha,” Zoey mumbled to herself.

After getting off the bus, she beelines for the store entrance. It was quite hard to miss the big green logo that said “Starbucks” on it. Zoey yells out a quick, “Sorry for almost being late!” at her manager as she rushes to put on her uniform. He gives her a sharp look, glancing at his watch.

He clicks his tongue, “Closer than it’s supposed to be, Choi. I don’t wanna have to let you go, you’re one of our best baristas after all. But even I can’t protect you from upper management.”

Zoey gulps and offers her superior a genuine apologetic look. He sighs and waves her off as he heads back into his office.

A frown made its way to her face. She hated feeling like a burden. It was one thing to burden herself, it was an entirely different thing to burden others. Zoey shakes off her feelings; this is no time to be sulking. She had a job to work, money to earn. She puts on the best customer service face she’s been able to pull off in a while and greets the first customer on the stand.

“Hi! Welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you?”

𓈒𓂃꒰˖⠀🜲⠀˖꒱𓂃𓈒

Light shone bright into Mira's eyes, causing her to squint. Her eyes naturally drift back onto the court. It was the semi-finals of Korea's national playoffs.

The ball was now high up in the air, right in the middle of the net. Both setters from each team looked up at it, their thoughts unexpectedly in sync. They locked eyes for a split second; they knew what they were both going to do. It was the fifth set, their last stand. Everyone on the court was understandably exhausted, and both setters knew they’d have to give their all to win this battle. Mira understood the instant the two setters' eyes hardened.

Nabi and the enemy setter jumped in unison, their hands reaching out for the ball. It touched both their fingertips. Nabi struggled, but the enemy setter did not. With a smirk, she tipped the ball just a tad bit stronger than Nabi was able to. It slipped past her fingers and fell straight for the floor.

Mira let out a short gasp. She had to save the ball somehow. She was too far for a regular receive, all she could do now was dive. So that’s what she did—perform a reckless dive she knew she’d regret later on. Her elbow hits the ground—harsh and bruising, the gym floor rougher than she thought it would be. Mira hissed in pain, swallowing her feelings as the ball made contact with her skin.

Fuck, it looks too low, Mira cursed to herself—this ball looked near impossible to save now. She turned her head to her setter,

“Ji-woo!” Mira yelled in desperation. As if reading Mira’s mind, the setter was already running to the ball, and Mira could see her hesitant expression. Her thighs were probably screaming in pain with all the moving setters do.

The ball drops lower than the net, It was too late. Mira’s heart stops, the moment lingering in the air.

Ji-woo grit her teeth with an offended smile on her face, “웃기지 마, (Don’t make me laugh,)”, Mira heard her mumble. She bent over backwards, her torso a foot away from the floor. And with a grunt, her fingertips make contact with the ball. Mira looked at her teammate in awe, now they were really pulling the big plays. She hasn’t seen Ji-woo do a save like that since last year.

The save successfully connects to Ji-woo, the entire team breathing a sigh of relief as they watch the ball get tossed in Ha-rin’s direction. Ji-woo whistled as she heard Ha-rin’s sneakers squeak as she zipped up with a powerful jump. Mira could see the spiker take a deep breath as she braced her muscles for impact. Her eyes locked on the ball and exactly where she planned to target it. The hit lands exceptionally well as it pushes past the enemy's block.

“레드 타이거즈에게 1점! (One point for the Red Tigers!).”

Mira took a second to recover, her breath erratic and uncontrollable. She could see Nabi, breathless, looking straight at the ground. She could see the thoughts form in Nabi’s mind, thoughts she hoped wouldn’t destroy her teammate. Mira saw the way she looked, truly saw the way fear and anxiety were so clear in her eyes. The enemy coach called for a time-out, and Mira was thankful. Everyone in the team needed it right now. Their expressions were a little too serious, as if the whimsy were sucked straight out of them.

They all jog to their bench as they grab their respective water bottles. Mira pats her teammates back with a gentle but stern smile on her face. Nabi looked at her, tears threatening to fall.

“자, 다시 게임으로 돌아가자. 네가 할 수 있다는 걸 알아, (Back to the game, now. I know you can do it,)” Hana, their team captain, tries to encourage her teammate to snap out of it. Nabi sniffles,

“알겠습니다, 대위님... 죄송합니다. (I know, Captain... I'm sorry.)”

Another teammate, Jean, jogs over with a worried look.

“여기 괜찮으세요? 시간이 얼마 남지 않았어요. (Is everything okay here? We don't have much time left.)” She pointed to the court, and Mira couldn’t help but admit that Jean was right. Time was running out, they had ten seconds to get back on court.

Nabi huffed, “이제 괜찮아. 가자. (It's okay now. Let's go.)”

Hana smiled as she harshly pats Nabi’s back, “재밌게 놀아보자, 알았지? (Let's have some fun, okay?)”

The girl scoffs, trying to sound annoyed. But the small smile on her face betrayed her tone.

The sound of the whistle rings in everyone's ears, and they all put their game faces back on.

Mira steps onto the court, cheers erupting around her. Her fans yell their team name like there's no tomorrow, but she understood their energy. This match was an all-or-nothing gamble. If they lost, it would be the end of their season journey, and the next time they would be able to play would be more than seven months away. But if they won?

Oh, they would finally qualify for international games. A few scrims here and there in America, maybe even in Europe if they were lucky. Such opportunities would help them get recognized by brands and maybe even bigger teams.

This game meant everything. It didn’t matter if they lost the next one or the match after that.

The whistle rang, and Mira huffed, eyes focused on the ball in her hands. She let the ball hit the floor and carefully spiked it down each time—her basic routine. The entire stadium stayed eerily quiet as they waited for her next move. It was her turn to serve. She narrowed her gaze as she thought, I got this. Mira tossed the ball up with scary precision. She ran forward and jumped, her hand so naturally found the ball, like she was born for it.

And that she was.

With a loud bang, the ball whipped through everyone and shot straight to the edge of the court. Everyone was left stunned for a moment until the announcer broke the silence,

“단 한 명뿐인 에이스, 강미라! (The one and only ace player, Kang Mira!).” Cheers and yells could be heard all around, praising Mira for her exceptional ace serve. She basked in the compliments; she knew she was good.

The ball boy passes a different ball to Mira. She does the same thing, the same routine. Except this time, she decided to target the enemy team's strongest ace. Hana had a specific hand signal pointed at Mira, one that meant Ace. Mira nodded, dutifully following her captain’s orders. The last thing they wanted was for that player to score—and if she received first, it significantly lowered her chances of being able to spike. Mira’s eyes lock on their ace, a faint smirk on her face. She threw the ball up and jumped forward. The wind hit her skin in a way that Mira could only describe as exhilarating.

She felt so free, like a bird meant to fly higher and higher. The twinkle in her eyes, full of wonder and joy, had the crowd awestruck. And just from the genuine smile on her face, the Red Tigers knew they won this point.

Mira’s brows naturally furrowed as she strengthened her muscles and—

Bam!

Mira closed her locker shut. She was in the team's changing room, sweatier and smellier than she’d normally prefer. But no matter, the smell was nothing compared to having pushed her career forward. They won the game against the White Silk Spiders, 25-22. It was a close call, but Mira would take it over losing any day.

She hears Eunchae, their libero, gulp down her water like she’s been thirsty since the 60’s. Jean scoffed as she slung a towel over her shoulder,

“왜 이렇게 빨리 마시는 거야? 겨우 네 세트밖에 안 했잖아. (Why are you drinking so fast? You only did four sets.)”

Eunchae shifted her gaze to Jean, all offended and grumbled, “세트 수가 너무 많아. 젠장, 왜 하필 리베로를 선택했을까? (Too many sets. Fuck, why did I choose to be a libero?)” The playful scowl on her face makes the entire team laugh. Hana lightly hits Eunchae’s shoulder as she gasps for air.

“당신은 나에게 말해, (You tell me,)” Jean teased.

“Fuck you,” Eunchae grumbled out in surprisingly perfect English. Leave it to Eunchae for being fluent only in curse words, Mira laughs to herself.

“아, 나도 사랑해 자기야! (Oh, I love you too, honey!).” Jean mocked as she made kissy faces towards Eunchae. The girl visibly cringed in response. Jean’s face quickly met with Eunchae’s sweaty towel.

“암캐! (Bitch!)”

Mira watched as Jean desperately tried to tickle Eunchae, the other girl hiding behind other teammates as a form of defense. A light and relieved smile made its way to Mira. The atmosphere in the changing room was calm and content; every single player had no complaints, nothing to say but positive things.

All but one.

Nabi sat in the corner of the room, a sad smile on her face. Hana noticed first, she always did. But Hana hesitated. She knew Nabi wasn’t someone who wanted her faults and fears announced to the entire team, and she knew they’d notice the moment she stepped over to her teammate. So, she made the easy decision and sent Mira instead. With a not-so-gentle nudge from Hana, Mira understood immediately once she traced where her Captain’s gaze led.

She silently made her way to Nabi’s side, with a smile so reassuringly gentle it surprised even Mira herself. They stayed quiet for a moment, so still to the point that Mira thought Nabi didn’t notice. Nabi tilted her head to the ace,

“Will they let me go?” She whispered in fluent English. Maybe it was the fact that Mira was able to speak English as well as Nabi could that influenced their closeness. Mira silently hoped it wasn’t just that, though.

Mira looked at the way Nabi stared at her, brows creased and tears ready to fall. Mira could only let out a defeated sigh.

“No… no, they probably won’t.” Mira cringed at her own words. The word ‘probably’ helped no one. Nabi let out a light scoff as her gaze lowered to the floor. Her eye twitched,

“I… I messed up too much this season. I don’t think I did well enough for your team—”

“Our team.” Mira sternly cuts in, hurt that Nabi didn't even think of herself as a player for the Red Tigers. Nabi shook her head, sliding her hand across her face in distress.

“I might not stay, and you know it, Mira. Even getting benched might be a far cry,” The girl shrugged her shoulders, “I just… I wish I did better.”

Mira held Nabi’s hand with as much care as she could muster, “They won’t kick you out for this. Trust me.” Nabi flinched as she felt Mira tighten her grip on her hand.

“...Okay,” It took a moment, but Nabi’s expression lightened. She looked at Mira, eyes full of hope.

“I trust you.”

Mira smiles in, satisfied she could quell her friends' worries, even just for a little while. She stood up, offering her hand to her teammate.

“C’mon, we don’t want Hana to scold us for being sulky after a win. Don’t drag me down with you on that.”

Nabi nods, “Right.”

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Rumi pants as she flashes her famous gummy smile at the camera. The stagelights shine into her eyes harsher than she expected, causing her to wince on instinct. She quickly caught herself and brought her expression back to normal. Fans cheered as Rumi wrapped up her Inkigayo performance.

The staff quickly pulled her aside as they prepared for the next Kpop artist’s performance. Rumi feels a weight get lifted off her shoulders the moment she stepped off the sparkly stage.

Her personal staff came quicker than her manager, with bottles of water and snacks in hand. It had Rumi a bit confused, but she figured Bobby was just a little bit busier than usual—and speaking of the devil, Bobby, her manager, is currently rushing towards her with a sorry expression on his face.

“Oh my gosh, Rumi, I am so sorry,” He wheezed out, gripping his knees in exhaustion. “A brand deal just so happened to call me and—”

“No need for apologies, Bobby, you know that,” Rumi said with a sweet smile on her face. “And a brand deal? From who?”

Bobby expressed his gratitude with a small nod, “Thank you.” He pulled out his phone and brought it up to Rumi’s face as they continued to walk to her team's room. “Saint Laurent. They emailed and called, telling me they were interested in doing a photoshoot with you—I mean, didn’t you say you liked their brand?” Rumi nods, both surprised and pleased.

“So I took the initiative and told them you’d be going, especially since our photoshoot with Gucci was cancelled just recently.” Bobby paused, “Still sorry about that, by the way.”

Rumi let out a nonchalant laugh, “It’s fine, Bobby, really. It wasn’t our fault in the first place.”

As they all begin to enter her idol room, Rumi asks the other staff to leave. She quickly notices a small congratulatory cake on the desk, picking up the fork next to it and taking a bite faster than she’d like to admit.

“H’were is it even haffening anyway?” Rumi tried to say, mouth full of cake. She blushes at the sound of her voice, but tries not to pay any mind to it. She’s grateful Bobby didn’t seem to care much either.

“Well, since most of their shoots happen in America, I was hoping maybe we could shoot there? It would also be useful to promote your single with a few variety shows from the US—like an informal international debut, y’know? Since we’ve always been so Korea-centered…” Bobby trailed off before noticing he was rambling.

“Well, I mean, only if you want to, of course!” He stammered, neck red in embarrassment.

Rumi licked her lips and waved it off as she prepared to take another bite from the red velvet cake, “Oh no, it’s alright. I also think it would be good for me to promote in America more, especially since it went quite well with my Japan single a couple of months ago.”

Bobby clasped his hands together, “Great! I’ll finalize the schedule soon, and in the meantime, just text me whatever variety show you’re interested in!”

“Thanks, Bobby, I promise I’ll let you know.” Rumi smiled as she heard Bobby shut the door. She swears she could still hear his muffled voice behind it, probably already calling Saint Laurent or something like that. She always knew she could rely on her manager, I mean, they don’t pay him that much just for him to be incompetent. But still, it felt nice to be able to rely on someone in some ways, at least.

Rumi sighs in relief as she realizes she’s left alone in her room. Being away from the public eye always helped her relax; she never really liked to be under all that pressure alone. Her eyes drift back to the cake on the desk.

This brand is really good, Rumi thought to herself. It didn’t taste too sweet or bland, just perfect for her tastes. She quickly opened her phone to text Bobby about how the cake tasted great.

However, a notification on her phone stopped her completely.

Jinu/Derogatory 17 mins ago

Psst Rumi

We’re debuting soon and Celine says u gotta say smth about our debut when we do

She furrowed her brows, wasn’t their debut getting pushed back a whole month because of the whole manager incident? She quickly tapped on the notification, bringing her to her chats with Jinu.

Jinu/Derogatory (Lee Jinu)

[Jinu/Derogatory] · 9:12 AM

Psst Rumi

We’re debuting soon and Celine says u gotta say smth about our debut when we do

[Rumi/Ugly] · 9:12 AM

What?

Didn’t it get pushed back?

[Jinu/Derogatory] · 9:12 AM

Well apparently we got a different manager fast so now its getting pushed back back

[Rumi/Ugly] · 9:13 AM

Wait, what happened to the previous manager then?

[Jinu/Derogatory] · 9:13 AM

Oh lol the company sued her ass

Thank god because tell me why she was all up in Hyun’s business like that

[Rumi/Ugly] · 9:13 AM

God yeah that was gross, good to know she’s getting what she deserves.

And I made sure to tell Celine not to let that ever happen again with any group.

[Jinu/Derogatory] · 9:14 AM

Aw thanks Rumi

Anyway back to the topic

Celine said you had to

Uhm

Promote us or whatever

[Rumi/Ugly] · 9:14 AM

Wait, why is it that you’re telling me this and not Celine herself?

Jinu?

Celine didn't tell you anything did she.

[Jinu/Derogatory] · 9:14 AM

Well I tried

And before you make fun of me, this was Danny’s idea not mine.

But you still should promote us though like fr fr

Be a good senior yk…

[Rumi/Ugly] · 9:15 AM

Fine.

I'll losely mention you during an interview.

But you owe me a coffee

Starbucks specifically! I absolutely love their shit

[Jinu/Derogatory] · 9:15 AM

Im a broke trainee who cant even afford starbucks coffee for myself without going bankrupt but sure i guess

Rumi giggles as she swipes off her conversation with Jinu. He was always a nice guy, and she’s glad he’s getting to live his lifelong dream now. Rumi hopes their career kicks off well. She checks the time on her phone, “9:17 AM”. She still had some time to kill before her team entered in a few minutes to take off all her stage makeup. So instead of watching videos on Youtube like a normal person, Rumi decides to scroll on Twitter, of all places. And to make matters worse, she decides to delve into her fandoms community.

It was a neat Twitter community with over thirty thousand fans. Definitely not the biggest Ryu Rumi community out there, but it was one of her favorites. There was something about the community being named “Rumiworld” that pulled her in.

Rumi didn’t know why, but watching people fawn over her and overanalyze her sneezes was a little funny more often than not. Maybe it was the fact that no matter what she did, they always seemed to support her. Rumi loved her fans, her real fans. The ones who wouldn’t switch up the moment she gets spotted with a man or if something big happens.

She casually scrolled through, every sixth tweet earning a short giggle. But more often than not, a tweet causes her to scoff and quickly scroll away—sometimes prompting a report or maybe even a block.

A tweet read,

Piplup NO.1 FAN @ppipielupp · 14h

I still can’t believe she won an oscar lol, i bet she gave herself to some rich guy for it

The tweet almost made her reel back in disgust. I mean, come on, rich guy? She’d be less offended if it said rich girl, but either way, it was still very odd to say. But Rumi knew how to handle it—she’s been trained her entire life for this after all. If she couldn’t handle a few hostile tweets, then she’d never have been given the green light to debut all those years ago.

She knew not to indulge such hateful morons because, at the end of the day, she was the multimillionaire, and they were probably just some bums who lived in their mother's' basements.

But she had to admit, the Twitter block button didn’t exactly work very efficiently. The report button seemed to have the same problem as well. Because even though Rumi tried her hardest to curate her Twitter feed, the hate always managed to seep through.

Another hate tweet proved her point just a second later.

You have got to be kidding me, Rumi grimaced. Should she personally email the owner of Twitter and tell them to get their thing fixed? What was his name again?

Eelin… Elon… busk? Whatever his name was, Rumi was genuinely entertaining the thought. Maybe then she’d stop seeing tweets telling her to quit the one thing she worked for her entire life.

A knock on Rumi’s door startles her out of her inner thoughts, causing her entire body to jolt upward. Her phone manages to slip through her fingers. Her eyes drift downward. She just got this phone! If she breaks another, even Bobby won’t be able to retrieve any data to transfer to the next. But it wasn’t exactly her fault a rabid fan managed to get on stage and somehow break Rumi’s phone a couple months ago, so she didn’t feel as guilty (Rumi nearly cried in relief at the news that she could retrieve most of the photos and videos on her very, very shattered phone. She ended up paying the worker three times the original agreement.)

She catches the phone just in time, holding it with the tip of her fingers. She sighed, then huffed, shoving her phone into her pocket as she allowed her makeup team to enter.

Relaxing her expression to reveal a trained smile, Rumi yelled, “Come in!”

A familiar ring invades a sleeping Rumi’s ears. She groans, twisting and turning in her bed. The ring eventually fades—but just as she starts to relax, it rings again. Rumi holds back a frustrated yell and slowly blinks awake.

She stares up at the ceiling, annoyed out of her mind. It was clearly very early in the morning, given how the sun wasn't even up yet. And she had just landed in New York last night, who could possibly be calling her at this hour?

Rumi stretches and reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing her phone. She blinks at the brightness of it and stares at the two missed calls from the same person. She squinted,

“Jinu? What the fuck does Jinu want with me at—” Rumi paused, “Four AM?” She mumbled under her breath.

And as much as Rumi wanted to just turn off her phone and place it on do not disturb, Jinu was not one to call for no reason. So, with a sigh, she lazily pressed the “call back” button.

It rang for a moment, then the call connected.

“Uh, Rumi?” Jinu asked.

“What do you want?” Rumi slurred, so dangerously close to nodding off. The comfort of the hotel bed was starting to get to her, the soft and gentle cushions pulling her in.

Jinu suddenly clears his throat, startling Rumi awake.

“What—yes, I’m here. What did you say again?”

Jinu sighs, “I said I could take you out for coffee right now, my schedule is free till six AM.”

Rumi stares at her phone with a tired expression, processing the information as fast as she can. She rubbed her eyes, “You seriously woke me up at four AM for this?”

“Uh, duh.” Jinu confidently said, but something else caught Rumi’s attention. She could have sworn she heard a car honk. She thinks hard; she’s in a twenty-story building. No street noise could reach her here. Then it clicks.

“Jinu, where are you right now?” Rumi panickedly asked, now sitting up with shock on her face. Jinu awkwardly laughs,

“Haha… funny story! I’m actually three minutes away from your hotel right now.”

“What?!” Rumi yelled, “Jinu, please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope, I’m getting bit in the ass by New York traffic as we speak.” He jested, causing Rumi’s blood pressure to skyrocket.

“Jinu, I am in my pajamas! You can’t expect me to bathe and get ready at this hour—”

“Then don’t!” He interrupted, “I mean, we’re only going to get drive-thru Starbucks, so it shouldn’t be that bad.”

Rumi closed her eyes, It’s okay, you’re okay, she thought to herself. Freaking out was not going to help her situation right now. So, Rumi opted to at least try to take control of the situation.

“Okay, shit—where are you right now then? You said you were nearby a minute ago. How near are you now?” Rumi asked as she pushed the blanket off her body.

“Uh, pretty near your hotel. Like, a whole minute away.”

Rumi brushed her hair proper as fast as she could while she stared at the clock like it personally offended her.

“Okay, just wait by the entrance. I’ll be there soon.”

The call disconnects, leaving Rumi by herself. She hurriedly checked herself in the mirror—and goodness, she looked like a mess. But Jinu’s offer echoed in her mind, We’re only going to get drive-thru Starbucks, he said. Which meant she’d just be in his car. Which also meant it would involve no actual going out. Just her and Jinu, sipping coffee in his beaten-up Honda(that he probably rented at a discount for the whole New York tour) at four in the morning.

God, this is stupid, she grimaced. But it was too late to back out now, so with newfound determination to at least get something out of this whole ordeal, Rumi rushed to the elevator. She relaxed as soon as she realized she was the only person in it. Rumi pushed the ground floor button and waited for the elevator to bring her down.

As she speed walked to the entrance, she could see Jinu’s old car through the hotel’s fancy glass door. She nodded to greet the guard, hoping they wouldn’t recognize her—because God, Ryu Rumi cannot be seen in worn-down cat pajamas at four AM in the morning.

She got into Jinu’s car and roughly closed the door.

“Well, good morning to you too—”

“Drive,” Rumi stated.

Jinu scoffed, “Well, okay, sure—yeah.”

He stepped on the gas, leading the tires to squeak at the speed.

“Are you angry—?”

“Jinu, do not start. I am so unbelievably close to just pushing you off the wheel and killing us both right now. If I do not get my coffee in the next ten minutes, I will turn homicidal.” She cut in. Jinu cringed and said a small sorry as he focused back on the road.

Good, Rumi thought. He should’ve known better than to mess with an early morning Rumi. Because as nice as she was, Rumi was not a morning person. She was the farthest thing from—piss her off in the morning and you’ll get a fist to the face instead of her usual annoyed stare.

Rumi hears Jinu sigh. She tilts her head to the sound with a tired expression. It was still four AM after all, even through all her mild annoyance and adrenaline.

“I’m sorry, seriously. But this is kind of the only window I have and… you know, like, you get me right?” Jinu said.

“Yeah, no, it’s—it’s fine. Just make sure I get my coffee.” Rumi replied, still a little bit groggy.

Jinu nods, “Yeah, of course.” He paused, “Uhm… so how have you been? We haven’t talked lately, after my debut.”

Rumi leans her head back onto the seat's headrest.

“‘I’ve been kind of… okay, I guess. Nothing new really, my life has been… boring.”

Jinu laughs at her words, “Yeah, sure. Superstar Ryu Rumi says her life is boring, of course.”

Rumi rolls her eyes and jabs at Jinu’s side. He giggles and swats away her hand, trying to focus on the road.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that! I mean, yeah, my life is fun in a way—but my… my…” She cringed at the thought, unable to continue her sentence. Jinu made a hand gesture, telling her to continue.

“My, er—love life has been boring.”

A moment passed, silent and empty. Then Jinu cackled, genuine joy on his face. Joy at the thought of Rumi’s desolate love life.

“Oh my—” He wiped a tear off his face, “I thought you were going to say something else! This is—”

“Shut up! It’s not that funny, Jinu!” Rumi groaned, throwing her hands up in the air.

“You know, if I told the press that Ryu Rumi was bitchless and struggling to get a girlfriend, I think a million people would line up to be yours.” He commented. Rumi knew he was right; a lot of people would probably die for a date with her.

“But they aren’t like, the—okay. Don’t crucify me for this.” Rumi said with a serious expression on her face. Jinu nodded with a mocking smirk on his.

“No, seriously, Jinu, don’t make fun of me.”

“Okay, okay! Just tell me already.” Jinu shrugged.

“I want… I want a natural meeting. Like, something out of a K-drama, I guess. I don’t want to meet someone through extreme measures, I just want them to kind of show up and sweep me off my feet you know?”

Jinu hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, no, I get that. It’s like,” He gestured, “Sometimes you just want something in your life to be normal. I understand Rumi.”

And for the first time in a while, Jinu gave Rumi a genuine smile. No mockery, no joking, just a soft smile reassuring her it wasn’t a crime to want something simple for once. She returned the gesture.

“Thanks,” Rumi paused, “What about you? How's your love life been uh, holding up?”

“Fine,” Jinu tried to lie, “I think.”

His fingers tapped at the wheel, impatient and unsure.

“You do know you can tell me anything, right? I literally just told you my stuff, so you should—”

“I may or may not be debutingwiththeguyIlike.” Jinu cut in so unbelievably fast that Rumi barely even caught the words. His hand gripped the steering wheel for dear life.

Rumi’s eyes widened in surprise. That was definitely not what she expected.

“Okay… tell me more about it.”

Jinu bit the edge of his lip, “I don’t know. It’s like, I think he likes me back but then—he’s also just really dense and… affectionate in general, I guess?” He rambled. “We have this playful banter thing going on and I mean, It’s… It’s cute until I’m awake at midnight struggling to sleep because God forbid I’m giddy.”

Rumi giggles, “Yeah, I get it.”

“Don’t laugh at me, at least I have someone to like.” Jinu groaned, “You haven’t experienced what it’s like to debut with the person you—like…”

Rumi froze at the words. Her expression quickly became unreadable and cold. Colder than Jinu expected. He knew he crossed a line.

“I—Oh my God Rumi, I’m so sorry I forgot—”

“No, it's fine. Just don’t… say it like that again.”

“No, I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that, even as a joke.” Jinu apologized, “Do you want me to switch the topic?”

Rumi shook her head, “No, it’s okay, really. Just continue.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Jinu sighed, “Anyway, I guess I’m kind of just… frustrated at how dense he is. Like, he can’t see me trying to give him loving looks?”

Rumi appreciated the way Jinu seemed to just brush it all off. Good, she thought. She didn’t want to think about it anyway.

“Pfft, he probably thought you were constipated. I’ve seen your ‘loving eyes’ from afar before. You looked like you were going to shit yourself.” Rumi said.

“Hey! Rude! It’s not that bad.”

Rumi and Jinu continue to banter till they eventually reach their destination. Jinu rolled down the window.

“What do you want?” He asked Rumi.

She thought hard, What’s a good drink for a four AM drive?

“I don’t know, I guess. Surprise me. Just make sure it isn’t sweet. You know I like my coffee black.”

“Pff, like your soul?”

“Jinu.”

He laughed, then finally decided to order. As Jinu talked to the employee, Rumi swore she saw something from the edge of her eye. It was a small movement, bright yet easy to miss. Rumi immediately turned her head in its direction, only to find nothing. She blinks once, then twice.

Huh, Rumi thought.

She brushed it off as a hallucination; she must really need her coffee.

This is all Jinu’s fault.

𓈒𓂃꒰˖⠀🜲⠀˖꒱𓂃𓈒

Mira downs the water in her bottle with passion. She pants and wipes off the remaining drops on the edge of her mouth. She’s relaxed, no longer tense and hyper-focused—she had just finished a small scrim after all.

In the four days Mira has been in America, they have already secured a game with another club. It was nothing of importance, just a game with a moderately known New York team for fun. Just publiCity, Mira liked to think.

But damn, this team was good. Mira’s teammates were sweating and huffing, she could tell their thighs were burning—and as much as she liked to pretend they weren’t, her thighs were begging for mercy as well.

“Mira!” Eunchae called.

Mira looked up, brow raised. There she saw Eunchae gesturing at her to come over, and what seemed to be an interviewer beside her.

Sweet, Mira mused.

She couldn’t believe she was going to get interviewed, and it wasn’t even the game yet. This was great advertising for Mira and her team. Mira quickly jogged over and introduced herself to the reporter.

“Ah yes, the ace of Red Tigers herself, Kang Mira!” The reporter exclaimed.

Mira could only laugh and nod in agreement. The reporter threw the usual questions she expected. Stuff about her skills, her streak, or anything about her appearance. She quickly learned that Americans liked her pink hair, like, a lot.

A specific question, however, piqued Mira’s interest.

“So, I hear you’ll be scoring ten points on your next game?”

Mira furrowed her brows and scoffed.

“Ten?” She said, offended.

The reporter quickly tried to backtrack, “Oh, was that not correct? I had heard—”

“Who told you ten?” Mira sneered, “I never said ten.”

She paused and ran her hand through her hair, a smug look on her face.

“I said fifteen, you should check your sources.”

The reporter guffawed at her confidence, making comments about her being ‘sure’ and whether she could ‘deliver’. Mira shut it down immediately, reminding the reporter that she was their ace. Who else would score the most if not her?

Mira then hears her name get called from a distance. She turns and finds her manager looking at her and pointing at her phone. She cocked her head, swiftly excusing herself from the interview. The interviewer calls for her repeatedly, but she chooses to ignore them. The call must be important if her manager is pulling her away from an interview.

“Who’s calling?” Mira asked as her manager handed her the phone. He didn’t answer and left her by herself, shooing Mira to the edge of the gym.

She obeyed and tried to find a quiet corner before checking her device. And once she did, Mira stared at the contact for a beat too long. Her jaw tightened at the name. She didn’t want to answer, but she knew she had to. Not doing so would only bring more trouble.

So, Mira begrudgingly pressed the call button.

“Mira?” A demanding voice called from the other end of the phone. Mira pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Yes, mother?” She responded, trying not to let the annoyance show in her voice.

“Ah, Good to hear your voice.” Her mother said, voice sweet like honey. But Mira knew deep down it was utter bullshit. Her mother would rather eat a dead rat than hear her voice again.

“Cut to the point, mother.” Mira bit back.

“Watch your words, young woman. Do not forget you are still under my care.” Her mother warned, “Now, down to business.”

The mention of being under her mother's care had Mira clenching her fists in anger, the pain of her nails digging into her skin the only thing grounding her.

“You are to head to Burbank for a photoshoot. Do not ask why, and do not dare to defy. Simply do as you are told, and all will end well.”

The stern voice of her mother made Mira twitch in fury. She hated how she knew she couldn’t do anything about it, hated how powerless she felt. Mira bit the edge of her lip, already a little lightheaded from all the anger.

“Yes, mother.”

“Very well, your brother Jaehyun will send you the details soon.”

And just like that, Mira hears the beep of a call ended.

She let out a shaky sigh, releasing all the tension in her body. The anger fades just as fast as it surfaced, leaving Mira exhausted. The call alone had her more tired than the game she had just played. Or maybe it was because of both, Mira didn’t know.

What she did know, however, was that her day was effectively ruined. And a photoshoot at Burbank of all places? What business did she have there? What could her mother be ordering her around for?

It sent chills through her spine, because no matter what it was, it could not be good for Mira. It was one thing to be ordered around in Korea, it was another to be told to do something in America. A photoshoot seemed too… innocent. Too casual.

There had to be something more to it, but Mira couldn’t quite put her finger on what. She sighed. This was no time to be worrying about some photoshoot in Burbank. She had a game in two days, one she could not afford to slack off on.

So, she walked back to her teammates, lacking a pep in her step. Only one thing could make her forget all the anger, and that was Volleyball.

“What was that?” Nabi paused, “Earlier, I mean. You got pulled away from an interview because somebody called, and you—you came back all… angry and bothered.”

Mira turned to face her friend. She didn’t think anyone really noticed, at least not like this. She could only slouch against the hotel couch, wondering how to explain it all to her junior.

“I—somebody I didn’t like called. I guess it kind of put me in a bad mood.”

Nabi stared, then nodded. Mira hoped she understood what she meant by it.

“Well, either way, your interview blew up.” Nabi sat up straight, already trying to unlock her phone. “Here, look.” She said, shoving her device into Mira’s face.

There, it showed a TikTok of Mira’s interview, edited to a song that felt dreadfully familiar. The song made Mira feel a little irritated, but she couldn’t quite understand why. The singer didn’t even have a bad voice; Mira just felt that way for some unbelievable reason. She brushed aside the feeling and asked Nabi to show her the comments.

And there it was—overwhelming support. A few hundred comments talking about how cocky and cool she was, some criticizing her for being too overconfident. The negative comments, however, had only fueled Mira’s fire. She would prove them all wrong in a few days time, so she brushed it aside faster than she normally would. The occasional thirsty comment would earn a laugh from her.

Nabi hummed, “Our interviews didn’t pop off this much, guess it was because of your ‘score’ line.”

Mira paused and stared at Nabi’s features, looking for any form of discontent. Lost in her thoughts, she found herself asking—

“Do you believe it?”

“Believe what?”

“That I could get fifteen points.”

Nabi smiled, hitting Mira’s side as she responded.

“Of course. You are our ace after all—what else am I supposed to do but believe in you?”

A soft smile finds its way to Mira’s face. She whispered a gentle thanks before focusing back on her phone. It was nice to know that some people believed in her at least.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

“Rumi, you need to see this.” Bobby looked at her with panicked eyes, offering his phone to her. Rumi furrowed her brows. What had happened?

She squinted at the phone. It was a news article about Rumi and—Jinu?!

Her cortisol spiked as she stared at it. Rumi scrolled down, trying to absorb every word as fast as she could. It read,

“Soloist Ryu Rumi spotted in SAJA Lee Jinu’s car at 4 AM in New York City. Is it a new blooming romance, or just a friendly date?”

Rumi shuddered at the thought of even being in a talking stage with Jinu. He was like her annoying older brother. She just couldn’t see him in any other way.

And a rumor with him meant something. His group was steadily making its way up to the top. Even as a freshly debuted group, they were already breaking charts almost as fast as she did.

A rumor with Jinu meant—

A ring from Rumi’s phone made her jolt in fear. Bobby quickly handed Rumi her phone, taking back his in the process.

Rumi stared at the contact.

‘Kim Celine’

She gulped, of course Celine knew. She always did.

The call connected.

It was quiet at first, no words being said through the line. Then, Celine spoke.

“I assume Bobby has shown you the article?”

Rumi replied with a short ‘yes’. She hears Celine sigh, her body tensing at the sound. She hated it. Hated the disappointed looks Celine always gave her, hated how… calm she was whenever she was irritated. Rumi prefers the angry shouting and scrambling rather than the pointed stares and dissatisfied words.

“Good. To get the press off of it, you will be having a duo photoshoot in Burbank.”

Rumi nodded despite the lack of audience, and hummed in agreement. A photoshoot might be enough to take some heat off of the rumor for sure.

Then, Rumi paused.

Wait, duo photoshoot? With who?

“With an up-and-coming star—a name you wouldn’t know.” Rumi’s eyes widened, she didn’t think she had said it out loud. Celine continued, “And they’re a woman, because heavens know a photoshoot with a man would start—”

“A love triangle rumor. I know, Celine.” Rumi bit the edge of her lip, a little anxious and queasy. “Could you at least tell me who this ‘mysterious’ woman is?”

For a moment, Celine didn’t answer. Rumi thinks she’s hesitating. No, Rumi knows she’s hesitating. She’s known her aunt for longer than she can remember.

“We haven’t decided on which candidate to take yet.”

Oh, goodie, so she didn’t lie about the ‘name you wouldn’t know” part. Because Celine herself didn’t know their name either.

“I—okay." Rumi breathed out, "When is this… photoshoot happening? And why Burbank of all places? I’m already in New York, are there no brands here that could—?”

“No buts, Rumi. We have already arranged a shoot with a well-known photographer, on a very tight schedule, mind you. There's no going back now.”

Rumi grit her teeth.

At least I’m being told over call and not in real life with that stupid glum look on her face, Rumi thought to herself.

“Bobby will send you the details soon.” Celine delayed, “And Rumi?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t be so careless next time.”

Rumi felt her heart stop. The room suddenly got smaller, and the air got colder. A prickly feeling crawled up her skin as she replayed the words in her head. She shuddered at the intense feeling.

“Okay.” She managed to say.

The call ends after a short sigh from Celine.

Rumi pressed the phone against her face, closing her eyes in an attempt to calm herself. Every breath felt heavy, like oxygen refused to enter her lungs without resistance.

She hates it whenever Celine says something so nonchalantly, because even with the natural monotone of her voice, Rumi knows she's disappointed. She hates making Celine disappointed. She absolutely despises the guilt that seeps through her veins the moment she hears that indifferent tone.

This was all Jinu's fault.

Rumi grimaced as she stepped foot into the photographer's studio. She can't believe she has to have a photoshoot with some random woman she doesn't even know, it's honestly just crazy. All because she forgot to wear some stupid disguise while going out to drink coffee in Jinu's ugly ass car at four in the morning.

Before she even entered the room, Rumi could already hear the shuffling around inside. She takes a deep breath and slides the door open.

Multiple staff members greet her and shove her into the makeup room. One literally gawks at her, but Rumi pushes it aside. It was normal for some staff to be a fan of her; she wasn't one of the most popular idols for no reason.

"Look forward, honey," A makeup artist said as they tilted Rumi's head back to the mirror.

"Sorry." Rumi managed to mumble before the makeup artist told her to just stop talking. She decided to just shut her mouth instead of embarrassing herself any further.

A thought then began to form in Rumi's mind.

Who exactly was she supposed to have this shoot with? She's asked Bobby a couple of times, but it was the same thing every time. Celine says she's still deciding, he would say.

Bullshit.

Rumi knew damn well Celine was not the type to take that long to decide, more so with something this important. So why all the secretive behavior?

It was really, really starting to affect Rumi, especially now that she was essentially in the studio and almost ready to get on set. And even after all this, she still doesn't know who her "co-star" is! She continued to tap her fingers on her thigh, trying her best not to freak out and ask everybody in the studio who she was supposed to be with. Rumi wasn't usually particular about these things, but something about it felt weird.

The door to the studio slides open once more. Staff immediately rush over, catching Rumi's attention.

Finally, she thought. At last, she was going to see who this woman plaguing her mind was. Rumi asked the makeup team if she could turn around and check, which they thankfully nodded to.

Rumi turned her head, and through all the people surrounding the girl, she could see a hint of pink.

Pink?

As they all began to separate to make way for her, Rumi finally saw the woman's face.

Her heart stops.

What? No—this… there's no fucking way, Rumi began to panic, her breathing progressively getting faster the more she thought about it. The world must be playing games, because that cannot be who she thinks it is. Maybe Rumi needed to get her eyes checked—a disease, maybe?

Because somebody needed to explain to her right now why Kang—fucking—Mira had just walked into the studio.

Mira must have been thinking the same thing about Rumi, given how she also froze in the middle of the room as they both stared at each other.

"No I—you're joking, right?" Mira laughs. A sound Rumi hasn't heard in a while. "What the actual fuck are you doing here?"

Rumi stands up from her seat, "No, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here for my photoshoot, Miss poopy-pants. Why else would I be here?" Mira shrugged as she cocked her head.

"Poopy pants—?" Rumi cringed as she held her hand up, shaking her head and trying to pull her phone out of her pocket. "No, there must have been some sort of mistake. You can't possibly be—"

"Rumi, my mother told me to head here." Mira's interruption stops Rumi from hitting the call button. Mira's mother? As in—super strict rich bitch asshole Kang Ryujin Mira's mother?

Rumi looked up to find a realization-stricken Mira. It both dawned on them at the same time. They were stuck with this.

"I am not going to do this. Not today, not ever." Rumi swipes away on Celine's contact and prepares to call Bobby. "Bobby—?"

Rumi gasps as she feels a harsh grip on her wrist pull her away from her phone.

"We both know we're not getting out of this."

Rumi attempts to yank Mira's hand off, but ultimately fails due to their build difference.

"Rumi." Mira sternly says, snapping Rumi out of her attempts at escape.

"My mother called me here—I can only guess Celine told you to do this too." Mira paused as she loosened her grip on Rumi, "And from the looks of it, we both don't know what the fuck is going on. So tell me, what is calling your manager going to do for us?"

Rumi bit the edge of her lip, hard. She hated to admit it, but Mira was right. If Rumi wasn't aware, knowing Celine, Bobby was probably kept out of the loop, too.

"I'll call Celine."

A minute or two passes by in tense air as Rumi waits for Celine to answer.

"Rumi?"

Rumi clenched her fists. "Celine, why is Mira here?"

"Ah, you've met." Rumi tightened her jaw, so it was planned after all. "I will keep this short and simple for you both. Head to a closed area, now."

Rumi pulls Mira aside, excusing herself from the curious stares of the staff. They head to the women's room, grouped up together in an empty stall. Mira throws her a bothered look, but complies nonetheless. It feels weird to Rumi to be able to just, casually drag Mira along. Just like—no, she shouldn't be thinking about this right now. She shakes her head, focus on the matter at hand, Rumi.

They both make eye contact before Rumi whispers into the phone,

"We're safe."

"Good."

A long pause causes Mira to raise her brow arrogantly. The silence hits Rumi hard. She's in a bathroom stall, alone—with Mira of all people—patiently waiting for Celine to explain why exactly she was going to have a photoshoot with the last person she wanted to see again.

"You're going to be dating Mira."

A beat passes by in silence as the cogs turn in Rumi's head.

"What?!"

"I beg your pardon?"

They yelled in unison.

"Celine, you can't be—"

"You caused this problem, Rumi. This is the consequences of your actions." Celine cleared her throat as Mira shuffled to a more comfortable pose. "Me and Mira's mother made a deal. It is too risky for SAJA to have a scandal this early in, especially with someone like you, Rumi."

"Wha—Like me? What does that even mean?"

"So you both decided to make us what," Mira scoffed, "fake date?"

"Essentially, yes. You will both need to stage dates, anniversaries, and posts."

"And?" Mira raised her brow, "That can't be it."

"You must both be affectionate towards each other. Hand holding will suffice." Rumi instinctively started fidgeting and caressing her hands.

"And that's it? For real this time?" Mira questioned.

"Yes, Mira. For real this time." Celine cleared her throat, "Now, I have work to do. Oh, and Mira?"

"What?"

"It was nice to hear your voice again." They heard from the speaker as Celine ended the call.

The silence was deafening. Neither seemed to know what to do, just frozen in place as they both processed the information. Rumi glanced at Mira with weary eyes, unsure of what to say or do.

"I—Hi." Rumi awkwardly greeted. She cringed at her own words. Three years of no contact and the first thing Rumi could say in this whole situation was Hi? But to be fair, she isn't exactly the most knowledgeable about these things.

Mira leaned on the dinky bathroom wall with an irritated look on her face.

She groaned, "I can't believe I have to take the fall for your mistake."

"What—excuse me?"

"Excuse me," Mira mocked, "Excuse me, my ass. We haven't even talked in three years, and here I am, standing in this stupid studio's bathroom because you failed to what—hide your relationship with your new boyfriend?"

"Jinu is not my boyfriend!" Rumi yelled, eyes closed. She huffed as she opened her eyes, only to find Mira already looking at her, all flabbergasted. The air developed into something less tense—comfortable, even.

"Look, I don't like this, you don't like this, neither of us like this." Rumi exhaled, "But we both don't have any other choice. This is Celine's orders, you know I can't defy them."

Mira pursed her lips then hesitantly nodded.

"So, a truce?" Rumi gestured, "We just don't talk outside of this whole… ordeal. Just a purely transactional relationship."

"Pff, like I was ever going to do anything else but that."

She visibly relaxed at Mira's words.

Okay, this she could work with.

𓈒𓂃꒰˖⠀🜲⠀˖꒱𓂃𓈒

"Okay," Rumi pulled out her phone as Mira stared. What the hell was this girl doing now?

"Let's exchange numbers?" She cleared her throat, "For uh, professional purposes of course."

She nearly cackled at how awkward Rumi was being. But it's not like she could blame her either—Mira also felt incredibly off about the whole thing.

"My number is still the same. I never got a new one."

Rumi's eyes widened in surprise, "Oh, yeah, okay."

A ping from Mira's phone pulled her away from the girl in front of her.

Ruru <3 1 min ago

Hi

Mira flinched at the nickname. She never really got around to changing it after all. It always felt too wrong.

"Did you get my text?" Rumi innocently asked.

"Yeah," Mira replied, "We should probably head to the shoot now."

Rumi looked away with a sad look on her face. Mira instinctively frowned in response as she followed up with a reply.

"Yeah, we probably should."

The walk back was infuriatingly awkward. Neither knew what to say, and yet the silence spoke for them both. The situation was… sticky and uncomfortable. Mira didn't really know what to think of it. It's not like she could do much about it anyway.

"Ah, here they are!" A staff member announced.

Mira took note of the way Rumi quickly put up a happy smile despite looking like a kicked puppy just a few seconds ago. Good to know she didn't take those PR classes for nothing, Mira thought.

"Let's get to our places, people!" The photographer yelled, "We have deadlines to meet!" He continued, clapping his hands.

The two immediately got flocked by makeup artists trying to touch up their faces one last time before they eventually got behind the camera.

Mira stared at her "girlfriend" as the makeup artists fussed over them both. She studied her features; she looked nervous. Which, in hindsight, wasn't exactly surprising given the fact that they were supposed to fake date. God, even just the idea of it was tacky.

This was not how Mira wanted to meet Rumi again. She's honestly surprised it wasn't more awkward.

Mira stepped onto the set. Her mother hadn't even bothered to tell her what the theme was, which was, in its own right, outrageous enough. But now that she was really looking at it, she could understand why.

It would've exposed the whole thing immediately.

It was a more… domestic photoshoot.

There was a white bed in the middle of the set, and Mira could already tell which direction they were going in.

"Sit on the bed first." The photographer instructed. The two girls looked at each other, a little bewildered.

Sit on the bed how?

Mira grumbled and decided that, fuck it, he said sit on the bed—so she was going to just sit on the bed. The photographer hummed in satisfaction as Rumi gently plopped herself next to Mira. He stared at the two for a good minute, scanning them like a robot.

Then, he smiled.

"Thank you. Can you both lie next to each other? Your body's like—" He handed his camera to the assistant next to him, "Okay, here, let me show you."

The photographer, whom Mira now knows is named Vincent, because the assistant called out his name, gently guided her and Rumi to their positions. They were now lying on the bed, heads right next to each other as they faced the ceiling. A camera was now angled above them,

"O—kay, get ready and—!" Rumi instinctively smiled as Mira let a grim look fall on her face. Vincent furrowed his brows and yelled, "No no no, this is wrong. Very wrong."

The two girls paused.

What?

"You," He pointed at Rumi, "Don't smile so brightly. A solemn look will do just fine. And you," He now pointed at Mira, "Don't scowl. And face Rumi instead of just looking at the camera this time."

And while Mira didn't think she scowled, Vincent was a professional. She respected his standing, which led to her turning her head in Rumi's direction. The girl who previously had a bright smile on her face now looked at the camera with a somber expression.

"Perfect! Don't move!" Vincent yelled as he studied their poses. "Fantastic! On to the next pose."

So now here they sat, awkward and tense as Rumi straddled Mira.

Mira didn't know where to look, unsure of how to touch the girl above her. Her hands were stiff on the bed as she tried to keep a poker face. Rumi's boobs were practically in her face. She didn't know whether she should look straight at them or look into the girl's eyes. One meant she was a pervert—the other meant she was… whatever. The entire situation almost made Mira groan out loud in frustration.

"Pose however you girls feel like. Make it natural, 'kay?" Vincent advised as he grabbed a hold of his camera.

Rumi exhaled, "Can I…?" She asked, hand hovering over Mira's shoulder.

"Yeah."

The girl mumbled a short 'okay' as she relaxed and let it all go. Mira slowly felt her own tense body loosen as well. Rumi now looked straight into her eyes with a look that physically pained Mira to stare back at.

Rumi's expression was soft, lips slightly agape—the complete opposite of the slight frown on Mira's face, brows somewhat creased.

A faint shutter from the camera almost steals Mira's attention, but she couldn't bring herself to look away from the woman in front of her. It felt like she was being enchanted.

And that was dangerous.

Very dangerous.

Anyone but Rumi, she pleaded to herself.

Her hand landed on Rumi's neck—just below her jaw—touching her carefully yet sharply, nails lightly scraping at the girl's skin. Rumi's breath hitches at the sudden contact, further adding to the rather melancholic look on her face.

"And that's a wrap!" Vincent announced.

Both Rumi and Mira jolted at the sudden noise. They looked at each other for a second longer, processing whatever the hell just happened. As if realizing together, the two girls quickly pulled away like they were allergic to touch.

Rumi stood up first, leaving Mira on the bed with her thoughts.

The shoot wasn't even that crazy—just a normal shot next to Rumi and one with Rumi straddling her. If it were any other girl, Mira might've laughed. But that was the thing.

The photoshoot was with Rumi.

The recount of events caused a chill to go down her spine. Everything hit her all at once.

She was supposed to 'fake date' Rumi—take her out on dates, hold her hand, and heavens forbid, kiss her. A sour feeling spread through Mira's body like a disease. It made Mira want to claw it out, to vomit the vile emotion that made its way to her system.

No.

She cannot—will not fall for Rumi.

Not again,

Never again.

Mira asked for her phone as she stood up. Her fingers land on a contact she hasn't called for in a while.

"Lee Hyun? I need to tell you something."

₊‧꒰ა ♫ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Zoey slumped against the counter, getting chills from how freezing it felt. She stared at the clock, "11:39 PM". She groaned in frustration. Zoey has been stuck here for two hours longer than usual. Her bank account was running out of funds, prompting the girl to work overtime. And while it would typically mean more customers, given the fact that she worked at Starbucks of all places, today was not the average day. For some reason unbeknownst to Zoey, only four customers were sitting in Starbucks. In the two hours she's been standing at the counter with a picture-perfect smile, she's only had the luck of serving four measly customers. In Starbucks. Multimillion-dollar company, super-busy at night, Starbucks.

It was safe to say Zoey was beat.

There were only so many turtle videos a girl could repeat in a day.

So when a fresh breeze finally hits Zoey's skin, her smile is expectedly wider than usual. The thought of another customer had her beaming with joy.

The customer had a hat and a hoodie on. Okay, that's a little weird, Zoey thought. But she's seen more secretive customers before, so it was no biggie.

"Hi! Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order?" She enthusiastically greeted.

"Hi, uhm, what sweeter coffee would you recommend?" The customer adjusted her hat, "I don't really go to Starbucks much."

"First time alone, huh?" Zoey smiled as she scrolled through the options. A sweeter coffee at this hour wasn't weird, but still uncommon.

"Yeah." The customer responded, head still low.

"Hot or iced?"

"What?"

Zoey raised her brow as the customer finally met her eyes.

"Hot coffee or iced coffee? I do reccomend iced coffee for sweeter drinks." Zoey questioned.

The customer stared at Zoey. A strand of pink hair escaped her cap, catching Zoey's interest.

"Oh, uh, my bad. Iced."

Zoey hummed, "You could try an iced white mocha with oat milk. It's been pretty popular lately."

Pinky blinked twice before shaking her head. "I—I'm sorry, I've just been really tired lately." She sighed. "Yeah, I'll take the uh… the what was it again?"

"Iced white mocha with oat milk." Zoey smiled.

"Yes, whatever that is in a Grande," Pinky said as she pulled out her wallet.

"That'll be $6.75."

Pinky offers up a ten-dollar bill.

"Order for…?" Zoey tilted her head.

"Mira."

Huh, familiar name. Zoey thought as she scribbled the name Mira onto the cup. She cashes in the girl's money and gives Pinky her change.

"Okay! Your order will be with you shortly." Zoey paused, reminding herself this might very well be Pinky—Mira's first time ordering at Starbucks. "We'll call your name."

A soft smile makes its way to Mira's face, "Thanks."

The girl scurries off into a quiet corner of the establishment, and Zoey slouches at the sudden loss of company.

God, she hated the night shift.

Zoey gets handed an iced coffee about five minutes later. Her eyes naturally glide over to the direction the latest customer had headed, and fair enough, there she was—in all her disguised glory. Zoey smiled as she drew a tiny cat on the cup.

"Order for Mira!" She yelled.

A few heads turned, but other than that?

Silence.

Huh, Zoey thought. Okay, so she'd have to call her twice. Doesn't matter.

"Order for Mira!" She tried again.

Still no answer.

Okay, this was getting ridiculous. She's right there, Zoey huffed.

She pushed aside the counter door and stepped out, carrying the pink-haired girls drink in hand. The closer she got to Mira's little corner, the more off everything felt.

She was kind of… tilted a little to the right? Zoey couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Well, she was going to find out any second now.

Zoey placed the coffee cup on the table, and yet Mira didn't even seem to move. She took a closer look at the other girl. Her breath was even, arms crossed yet relaxed.

Oh my God, was this girl asleep right now?

She grimaced, Okay, just gotta wake this beauty up. No biggie.

Zoey poked at Mira's shoulder, the girl jolting up in response.

"I—what—?" She stuttered.

Mira looked up and met Zoey's eyes. Zoey could see the realization dawn on her.

"Oh my God, did I fall asleep?" Mira's brows creased, "I'm so so sorry. I'm just super tired. I—Do you want a tip for this? Cause I can totally offer a few extra bucks for the trouble—"

"No, no! It's okay," Zoey shook her head, a gentle smile on her face. Mira continues to look at her with insistent eyes. "No, seriously, it's cool."

The barista looked around and gestured, "Besides, it's not like I had much to do."

"No—No, I should uhm, repay you. In some way." Mira pleaded.

Zoey gave it some thought. She hummed, "Well, you could, for starters, tell me why you're so tired in the first place."

She paused at her own words.

Mira stared.

Panic surged through her body. What was she saying? Zoey waved her hand around, mortified. "I mean, only if you want to!"

Then, unexpectedly, Mira had laughed. Like, head thrown back and everything.

Her laugh was so free, so gentle and light-hearted, it made Zoey's heart race like never before.

Mira wiped a stray tear as she spoke. "I—yeah, no, it's fine. I just… didn't expect you to say that. Thought you were going to charge me a million dollars." She cleared her throat at the lack of reaction from the barista. "I stayed up last night to uh, research something, I guess."

Zoey made herself comfortable and sat across from Mira. Where was she getting this confidence from? She didn't know.

"Hm, had any luck with that?"

She scoffed, "Unfortunately for me, no." Mira's expression shifted—something so minuscule Zoey swore she would've missed it if she had blinked. "Not really, at least. I'm just stuck in a very… sticky situation. Or something like that."

"Well, what's life without a few obstacles?" Zoey mused.

What the fuck was she even talking about? Being flirty was fine, but at work? This was a line she's never crossed before—why was she crossing this line again?

Mira nodded along as she stuck a straw into the iced coffee. Taking a sip, she buzzed.

"Whoa, this is good."

Zoey beamed with pride, "Well, thank you."

"I don't think I've had coffee this sweet yet balanced in a hot while. What did you say this was again?" She asked, eyes curious and somehow burning a hole straight through Zoey's heart.

"Iced white mocha with oat milk," Zoey replied, heart beating a little faster than usual.

Scratch that—Zoey knew exactly why she was crossing this line. Because this girl in front of her was hot and cute and quite frankly flirty in a way she liked.

"Thanks for introducing me to this. I've never had anything quite like it." She paused, "Most coffee I get is bitter… like, too bitter for me. I usually get matcha, but I do still need to stay awake a little bit."

Zoey furrowed her brows.

"Wait, what? Okay, let me backtrack. Are you telling me you barely slept last night researching something, and now you're trying to stay up late again? Isn't that kind of… I don't know, unhealthy?"

Who was Zoey trying to fool? She was practically known for staying up till three AM. But hey, if it gains her a few extra points with this absolutely stunning girl in front of her, then Zoey's not closed off to giving some advice. Advice that she herself doesn't follow—but that's besides the point.

"Well, when you put it like that…" The girl awkwardly chuckled. "It does seem a little unhealthy. But this is a one-time thing! Or a two-time thing? Either way, it's really just because I'm in a—"

"Sticky situation?" Zoey said, finishing Mira's sentence. The girl nods in response.

An idea pops into Zoey's head. A very, very risky idea. An idea that has her clutching her pearls, hoping and praying it works. Because it'd be really embarrassing for her if it didn't.

"Okay, beautiful stranger, don't push yourself too hard now." Zoey drawled as she rested her head on her hand. "You could come over to talk to me if you ever manage to catch me mid-shift."

Her words seemed to pique Mira's interest.

"Oh? Stranger?" Mira said, her tone jokingly offended. "But you know my name, don't you? Not even an acquaintance? After all the things I just told you?"

Zoey shrugged and slowly stood up from her seat. As she walked away from the table, the girl looked back and winked.

"We'll see."

From the corner of her eye, she could've sworn Mira smirked.

Well, that's gonna be fun. Zoey thought. Besides, it's not like anything's actually going to happen. This was just a stupid short moment where she decided to flirt with a hot woman while on the clock—it's not like this Mira gal is actually going to try to meet up with Zoey through her shifts.

That's ridiculous.

Thirty minutes after the very interesting interaction, Mira walks to the counter, handing Zoey a very generous tip. No—generous wasn't even good enough to describe how much she had given her.

Mira seemed to revel in Zoey's shocked expression as she handed her a hundred-dollar bill.

The bell rings as she exits the store.

Zoey crumples the bill just a little bit, as if trying to feel if it were real. It was, in fact, very real.

Lucky me, Zoey mused.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Rumi furiously tapped at the call button as she waited outside her hotel. She was in her basic disguise, a jacket with the hoodie pulled over her head and random pants she found at the bottom of her luggage. It was not… the best outfit she could pull together, but it would do.

Besides, who expects Ryu Rumi to be in a jacket and worn-out pants in this hot summer heat?

It took nearly a minute, but Jinu finally answered. With a ding, he asked with a hint of nervousness in his tone.

“Rumi?”

“Finally!” Rumi ran her hand across her side bangs in frustration, “Where are you? I’ve been waiting for a few minutes now, and if someone notices me I’m going to—”

“Okay fine, sorry, sorry! I’m close to the hotel. I’m in a dark gray car right now, just give me like… what, two minutes? So sorry—Chae-bin had… bathroom complications that stopped me from showering.” Rumi could practically hear Jinu scrunch his nose on the other side of the phone. She hated to admit it, but it was a solid excuse.

“Alright, fine, whatever. Just get here already, it's kind of hot out here…” Rumi adjusted her jacket, loosening it in a desperate attempt to feel the breeze. But the furthest she could go without completely exposing her identity was zipping her jacket down just a tiny bit. Rumi swore it didn’t help, but even the tiniest breeze hitting her neck gave her some form of comfort at least.

The next three minutes were spent tapping her feet, looking around now and then to double-check if Jinu had already arrived. It was starting to get to her—all the heat, all the smoke from traffic, and worse, the big fat billboard of herself just staring right back at her. She looked at herself, looking all smug and cozy on that billboard. She didn’t know why, but she was just getting more irritated by the second. If Jinu didn’t arrive now, she was going to post pictures of him sleeping with his mouth open.

As if the universe wanted to preserve Jinu’s social image, a gray car drifts forward and stops just a foot further than Rumi. The speed of the car almost knocks Rumi’s jacket back, risking her identity. She quickly held tight to her hood, a frustrated look on her face as she shifted her gaze to the car. Rumi coughs as the smoke hits her nose, waving it away with passion. The window rolls down, revealing Jinu with a sorry smile on his face.

Rumi huffed. The audaity of this man, she thought.

She opens the car door and hops into the passenger seat, a somewhat playful scowl on her face. Jinu whistles as he locks the doors and speeds forward.

“Which Starbucks are we even heading to?” Rumi asked.

Jinu shrugged, “Any, it’s not like there’s much of a difference anyway. But, there is this one Starbucks that isn’t as hard to get through since the traffic in that area isn’t so bad.” He pointed to his phone on the stand, “Look, we’re what—twelve minutes away?”

Rumi sighs, “Yeah, okay—and you’re sure they won’t spot us this time?”

Jinu turned to Rumi with a smug smile that made her want to wipe it off his face. But despite all the joking, Rumi was truly worried. Their stupid little promise turned into a big fat problem that involved her.

“A hundred percent positive. Besides, it’s not my fault you decided not to wear a disguise.”

Rumi scoffed and turned to Jinu with a sharp gaze in her eyes, “Excuse me? It was four in the morning. How was I supposed to know my paparazzi would be that crazy to snap a picture of us in your car?”

Jinu raised his brow, “Rumi, please. You’ve been an idol way longer than I have, you should’ve had a disguise on. Hell, even I kind of expected to see you in a disguise—I never expected you to actually listen to me in your stupid purple cat pajamas.”

Rumi groaned; she knew he was right. It was a small slip-up that caused a crazy consequence. It weighed on Rumi’s mind, how am I even supposed to handle this?

"Also, save the things you want to say for when we're actually in Starbucks. Because if I get shocked at whatever bullshit you spew and we crash, I am not going to be paying for repairs on this baby." Jinu smirked as he caressed the dashboard.

Rumi scrunched her nose and mumbled, "Whatever you say, brokie."

The drive turned out to be longer than Jinu had mentioned, given there was a minor crash just a few cars ahead of them.

Rumi walked into Starbucks first, leaving Jinu to trail after her. The streets of Burbank weren't too bad. It smelled like cigarettes and dirty sewage in the area, but it wasn't anything she'd scrunch her nose to. Hell, it felt better here than on the streets of Seoul.

The Starbucks wasn't too packed, just a few students here and there—maybe even a couple in the corner. Rumi couldn't blame them; it was only 3 in the afternoon. Most students were either in class or somewhere else.

The two walked to the counter and were greeted by an employee.

"Hello! Welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you?" A scrawny man asked with a tight smile. Rumi thinks that if he smiled just a little bit more, his mouth might fall off.

"Oh, uhm,"

"An iced brown sugar oatmilk shaken espresso, please." Jinu interrupted, pushing Rumi to the side. She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she scans the menu. "What? It's not like you had your order ready yet."

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Rumi shrugs it off as she struggles to pick an order. She's gone to Starbucks plenty of times, but she doesn't want to repeat the same order over and over again.

She raises her head to face the employee, finger up and ready to order—when he suddenly bows. The sound of a phone ringing interrupts the entire interaction.

"I'm so sorry, my shift just ended, and my sibling is calling for me to pick her up. Somebody will be with you soon! My apologies!" He said before answering the call and rushing to the back of the store.

"Uh… okay, that's definitely a first for me. Never had an employee duck out mid-order before…" Jinu crossed his arms. "Maybe it's because you're here."

"Oh shut up."

A girl with dark hair steps out of the employee-only door, out of breath. She clearly just got here.

"Hi! So sorry for the hold up, what were your orders?" She politely asked, flashing a smile at both Jinu and Rumi.

The world stopped.

This girl was short—shorter than Rumi at least. She had her hair up in a simple ponytail, with mini bangs shorter than Rumi had ever seen on a person before. She had freckles, a fair amount of dancing around on her face. Her smile felt enchanting. In a way that had Rumi clutching the hem of her shirt and biting the edge of her lip.

"An iced…" She slowly tuned out Jinu's words—he didn't matter right now.

Her heart felt like it was leaping in and out of her body. She was starting to feel dizzy from how hard her heart thumped.

"…Rumi? Hey, bro, you're embarrassing me right now!" Jinu whisper yelled, shaking Rumi out of her trance.

"Huh?" She furrowed her brows as she faced Jinu. He looked at her like she was crazy, and gestured for her to 'order already!' Her eyes widened as she turned back to the counter, "Oh, sorry. I'd like…" She paused as she stared at the barista.

Oh shit.

She forgot what she wanted to order. Curse Rumi and her weakness for pretty women.

"I uhm… do you have any recommendations…?" She awkwardly asked. The girl—Rumi squinted at her nametag—Zoey, giggled, and scrolled through the machine.

"Well, I do have a couple recommendations if you'd like—"

"Yes please! I mean—yes, please." Rumi pinches her wrist, oh Jinu is not going to let this go. She avoids his bewildered and mocking stare. That is a problem for later.

Zoey raises her brow, amused.

"Hm, okay. Well, you could try vanilla sweet cream cold brew. It's something I order when I need something sweet for the day." She smiled.

She smiled, and it damn near knocked Rumi off her feet.

Dazed, she nods.

"Yes, that in a grande please."

Zoey hums, "That'll be $16.45, including his drink."

Jinu hands her a twenty-dollar bill, and Rumi freezes.

Wait, sweet?

"Name, please?"

"Uhm," Rumi looked at Jinu and let out a little giggle before she turned back to the barista. "Peter."

"Okay! Your order will be with you shortly. Have a great day!" Zoey's nose scrunched as she waved them goodbye.

Jinu had to drag Rumi to their seat. As they settled onto their chairs, Jinu spoke.

"Okay, what the fuck was that?"

"What?"

Jinu scoffed, "What?" he mocked. "What my ass. You were practically drooling in front of her like some creep. Gosh, have some decorum."

"Wha—drooling?! I was not drooling!"

"Uh, you so were." He rolled his eyes. And before Rumi could counter, Jinu asked. "Anyway, what did you want to tell me back in the car? Why are you in Burbank? Wasn't your shoot at New York?"

Rumi straightened at the topic.

"Oh, uh. Funny story," She nervously laughed, "So you know how we got caught with the whole 'Starbucks at 4 am' thing?"

Jinu nodded. "Yeah, my management fucking crucified me for that shit." He tilted his head, "But they said your management had it all sorted out. I'm guessing this is all connected somehow?"

Rumi breathed out.

"I'msupposedtofakedateMira."

A few seconds pass by in complete silence. Rumi winced at the loud 'What?!' Jinu yelled out.

"Wait wait, no no no no no—! Back track. You're supposed to fake date Mira. Kang Mira? That Kang Mira?" He looked utterly bewildered. "Please tell me you're joking."

Rumi slumped, "I wish I was."

"How did that even…" He trailed off, brows creased as he tried to think.

"I don't know. I guess Celine thought it'd be a good idea, considering I know Mira and she does too but—"

"Rumi. That is your ex-situationship. The person you were supposed to debut with, the girl you trained with for two years. And worst of all—" He sucked in a deep breath, "—She's the one you loved for a whole four years! Even after she left."

"Pfft, it wasn't that bad."

"Rumi, you two had a breakup—and you were never even an official thing! I remember you crying to me for seven straight months. Seven, Rumi."

She cringed. Okay, maybe it was that bad.

"Everything has just been so… weird, lately." Rumi sighed as she covered her face with her hands. "I don't know what to do, I don't know how to deal with all this."

"Okay, so let's maybe control what we can?" Jinu offered. "Have you even moved on from her already?"

"I have. I mean, I—I think I have?"

"Rumi," Jinu warned.

"I'm sorry, okay! You shouldn't be making fun of me anyway, it's your fault that I'm even in this whole situation in the first place!"

"Wow, way to blame it on me. I'm trying to help you here!"

A voice yells out for 'Peter', and Jinu pauses.

"How about her?" He wiggled his brows, pointing over at barista Zoey. "I mean, she's cute, and she had you blushing. Not many people get to see Ryu Rumi blush, you know?"

Rumi clammed up at the statement. Her face grew hot in embarrassment.

"What?! Are you crazy?! She's just a barista—it's literally just her doing her job!"

"Oh, c'mon! You're Ryu Rumi, you could just confidently come up to her and ask for her number." Jinu halted, then laughed. "Never mind, I just heard what I said."

"What—excuse me?! What the hell does that even mean?!"

"Confidence is not your middle name. You couldn't even order without stuttering. 'I—Uhm—I'll have…. Uh, I think…'" He mocked.

Rumi hit his shoulder and huffed as she got up from her seat to pick up the coffee. Ryu Rumi is confident! Of course she is. She wouldn't be the nation's top idol if she weren't confident.

I'll show you confident, she thought.

She walked to the counter, head high and chest puffed out. I've got this, Rumi cheered herself on. She's performed in front of fifty thousand people before; this does not compare.

It's just picking up her order. How hard can this be?

"Order for Peter?" Zoey smiled as she held onto a marker and what seemed to be Rumi's order.

"Ah, yes," Rumi answered.

Why was she holding a marker?

Rumi stared at the marker in Zoey's hand. She seemed to be scribbling something—a drawing maybe?

The longer she stared, the more uneasy Zoey appeared to be.

"I—sorry, do you not like drawings on your cups? I can erase them if you'd like." Zoey nervously asked as she slowly put the marker down. The somewhat sorry look on Zoey's face made Rumi blush.

Rumi waved her hands around, "No no, not at all! I'm just curious as to what you were doing." She scratched her nape, "Sorry. You can, uhm, continue."

Zoey sighed in relief. She brought the marker back onto Rumi's cup and continued to scribble.

"There." She said, "Sorry again for the hold up. I decided to change the drawing once you started walking to me."

Rumi tilted her head in confusion.

"And why is that? What was wrong with the previous drawing?" She asked as she took the cups into her hand.

Zoey giggled, and it was like a sparkle shone in her eyes.

"Nothing really. I just thought the new one seemed to fit you better." Before Rumi could ask, how?, Zoey answered. "It's not so different. Just a little more… specific, I guess. Anyway, enjoy your drinks!"

"Oh, uhm. Thank you."

Rumi walked back to her seat. She had an empty look on her face, almost as if she were dazed. Jinu gave her a snide look as she sat back down.

"What's up with you?" He laughed, "You look rough. Did she reject you or something?"

Rumi pushed his drink into his hands with a huff.

"I didn't even say anything, gosh, you need to learn how to shut up."

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

Rumi took a sip from her drink. A chill went down her spine as the flavor hit her tongue.

"Eugh…" She groaned.

The drink was sweet. Like, too sweet for its own good. How do people not get diabetes drinking this every day?

As she stared at the drink, a trace of dark marker ink caught her attention. She turns the cup a little to the left, and it reveals a tiny scribble of a tiger. It was cute, a clean yet simple drawing of a tiny tiger.

A tiger, huh?

The thoughtfulness of Zoey's drawing warmed her heart. Rumi wonders what she had drawn before changing it into a tiger. A cat, maybe? She did say she only redrew it to make the drawing more specific. A small smile made its way to Rumi's face.

"Creep. What the hell are you smiling about?"

Jinu's words instantly shatter the mood.

"Oh my God, Jinu." She groaned.

"What? You came back after I told you to shoot your shot—"

"Whoa, okay, you did not say all that."

"And now you're looking at the cup with some kind of lovesick look." Jinu gave Rumi a look that made her want to rip his face off.

"If you had two eyes and a brain cell, you'd see that she drew something on my cup." Rumi flatly stated.

Jinu perked up, "Ooo, think I have one too?" He said as he checked his own cup. His brows furrowed. "Wait, what did you get?"

"A tiger." Rumi showed off her cup.

"What? That's so cool, how come I got a crow?"

Rumi giggled and shrugged it off.

"Dunno why you're asking me."

Jinu scoffed and leaned onto his chair.

"So, what now? Are you gonna go for miss barista over there or your estranged ex-situationship?"

Rumi coughs and hits her chest to stop herself from choking. She gives Jinu a death glare, "You can't just be saying stuff like that!"

"What? It's a serious question." He crossed his arms.

"I just met the girl Jinu," She sighed, "Plus, I just don't want to reconnect with Mira like that." Rumi paused as she let the thoughts flow into her mind. "I… I don't know. I just don't want to really think about it right now."

A feeling of uneasiness settles into Rumi's heart. Jinu offers her a look of pity.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I know it's a touchy topic, but… Seriously, what now? You know you can't just wing this. Worse-case scenario is, you fall in love with Mira again." He tightened his grip on his drink. "I don't want to see you like that again."

Rumi looks down and stares at her shoes. Her eyes widen—her socks. It was a pair that she and Mira had gotten years ago. A matching cat and dog set. It became her favorite the moment Mira pointed at it in that worn-down store, a smile on her face. She remembers not being able to throw it away. It stayed her favorite, even after all that happened. Rumi didn't even notice she had put this pair on.

"You were so broken for a long time, Rumi. Hell, you refused to eat for weeks. I know I may not show it a whole lot, but you're like my little sister. I don't want to see you like that again. Ever."

Rumi sucked in a sharp breath.

Jinu was right. The following months after Mira's departure, Rumi was not herself. It was one of her darkest days, second only to her mother's death. Suddenly losing a support figure in her life scarred her in ways she couldn't explain.

"It could be good to think about something else—someone else even." Jinu smiled, "But it's your decision to make. Just make sure not to hurt yourself in the process, okay?"

He held out his hand for Rumi to hold.

"I'm always here for you."

Rumi reached out, her fingers softly finding Jinu's.

"…Okay."