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Yoonchae’s only really half-listening to Megan and Lara’s conversation with the Eyekons and, even with her hood pulled around her face and a hat on, she knows that the viewers can probably still see the distant look in her eyes. It makes her wonder, distantly, if this will end up on a TikTok compilation of moments where she’s in her head, or zoned out, as Megan once explained to her.
Megan’s shoulder is warm under her cheek, Yoonchae realizes, eyes rapidly blinking as she tunes into the conversation more.
She catches the tail end of Lara and Megan sort of arguing about the infamous prank call incident with Manon. There’s not much for her to add to the conversation, so she just wags her finger at the camera so it looks like she’s paying attention, to make it seem like she’s living in the moment and not a million miles away.
The comments, endless but fleeting, fly across the screen, tempting her to look like any good siren does. Yoonchae listens to its call. She can’t even make out the majority of them, but the ones she can are all about the same:
the sassiest maknae to ever do it
yoonchip ❤️❤️
yoonchae looks so cute when she’s sleepy 🥹
they’re all so babyyyyyyyy
But Yoonchae’s not a baby, she’s eighteen now. She’s an adult, someone that would be tried in court as such, just as anyone above the age of eighteen would be. Why isn’t anyone commenting about that?
She stares at the screen until her vision goes hazy and the blinding light from Megan’s laptop is the only thing she can see. The next thing she remembers happening—aside from her phone buzzing to let her know that her Dasher is dropping off her food soon—is Megan poking the side of her calf to get her attention.
“We’re saying goodbye to Eyekons,” Megan explains, looking back at the camera. “Get in frame.”
When the livestream finally ends, Lara gets out of the bed, mattress dipping as she does, giving a hug to both Yoonchae and Megan before she leaves. Instead, Yoonchae lingers, laying back into the headboard and squeezing her eyes shut, she sees stars.
They’re bright and a little fuzzy at the ends, bursting with color but fizzle out as soon as they appear.
Stars, in multiple ways, remind Yoonchae of Megan. They remind her of the little star tattoo on Megan’s rib that Yoonchae—privately, selfishly—wants to feel under her hands, to know if it’ll feel any different than the rest of Megan’s skin. They remind her of that night in LA, Megan showing her all the constellations, explaining what they all meant. They remind her of being a kid, reaching out of the window of her apartment in Seoul and into the sky, thinking she could reach the stars, only to be met with disappointment when all she grabs is air. Stars, in general, remind Yoonchae of Megan—beautiful, radiant, but so far from her that she can’t even begin to hope that they’re also looking back at her.
And if Megan is the stars, Yoonchae thinks she must be Pluto, floating on the outskirts of the solar system. Pluto is different as a default, orbiting in its nontraditional oval instead of a circle, existing millions and millions of miles away from the other planets.
Yoonchae, most days, relates to Pluto much too closely, feeling disconnected from people her own age and even the other members of KATSEYE. Because when she sits down and really asks herself what other people her age are doing? She knows the answer isn’t going to be dancing and singing and performing for thousands of fans who will never see her as anything more than the fresh-faced fifteen year old from South Korea trying her best to debut in a global girl group. There aren’t many people in the world who could understand what she’s going through and the people who should—Manon, Sophia, Daniela, Lara, Megan—have outgrown having to face these issues. They’ve all been able to make that smooth transition into adulthood, to being seen as more than cute, and Yoonchae is caught bouncing between the two, unable to weigh the scales in any one particular direction.
It shouldn’t—
A hand nudges her shoulder and she’s immediately brought back down to Earth.
“Yoonchae, hey…” Megan says, nudging her again, smiling softly when Yoonchae meets her eyes. “Yoonchae, your phone has been buzzing like crazy, girl. I think your food is here.”
And Yoonchae blanks, the only thing she can think to say in response is: “Oh.”
“So… Do you wanna go get it together?” she offers, closing up her laptop and brushing invisible crumbs off her tanktop. “I still need to figure out what I’m gonna eat and maybe smelling your food will… inspire me.”
“Oh,” Yoonchae’s voice gets caught in her throat and she coughs to clear it. Before speaking again, she takes a quick glance at her phone and sees the five messages from her Dasher and then looks back up at Megan. “I mean— Yeah, that’s okay with me.”
It’s a little awkward getting down to the main lobby, staring with the little shuffle they do around each other as they get out of the bed and exit the door, to when they’re walking towards the elevator and wondering whether or not to fill the silence hanging between them. It gets a little ridiculous when Megan tries to make small talk about the weather of all things as they near the front desk. Yoonchae shuts that nonsense down with a look that she knows reads as what the hell are you doing? and Megan throws up her hands in defense with a sheepish look on her face, putting them back down when the front desk lady is looking at them expectantly.
“Hi! How are you ladies doing tonight?” She greets them with her Australian accent with an overly cheerful tone for nearly eleven at night. “Anything I can do to help you?”
“Uh, yes, I have a DoorDash order to pick up,” Yoonchae looks down at her phone to double check the order confirmation. “The name is YC.” She elbows Megan in the ribs, hard, when she snorts at that.
“Let me make sure we got that in!” The woman disappears a little behind the counter, tapping away at her computer, looking over her shoulder a few times, and then a younger-looking man appears from the door behind her with a brown paper bag that’s sealed at the top. She then comes back around, bag extended out towards Megan and Yoonchae, and hands it over to them. “Have a good night ladies, enjoy!”
Yoonchae nods her thanks, grabbing the bag from the woman and turning to head back to the elevator. But as she’s about to call it down, she notices a distinct lack of Megan behind her.
She whips her head around, scanning for the familiar head of dark hair and the new streaks of blonde she loves, only to find Megan bent over a futuristic-looking coffee machine, furiously tapping away at its buttons. Yoonchae watches her fumble around with it for a few seconds before she’s walking over to get a closer look.
“Did you not tell Eyekons you were going to sleep?” Yoonchae questions, nodding her head towards the machine and eyeing the steady stream of coffee coming out of it.
Megan glances over for a moment, but there’s not an ounce of guilt on her face. “I changed my mind.” She then raises an eyebrow, “That okay with you?”
Yoonchae just shrugs and watches Megan finish making her coffee. She adds enough sugar that Yoonchae’s teeth hurt in sympathy and turns the dark brown coffee into a creamy white with the amount of whole milk she pours in.
Megan then snaps a lid on top of her more-milk-and-sugar-than-coffee cup of coffee, swirling it around to mix it together. Yoonchae then watches her blow a few times across the opening, lips pursing and cheeks puffing slightly, then taking a sip of the still-steaming liquid. She can’t help but wince in sympathy when Megan’s eyes go a little bug-eyed, tongue darting out in an attempt to help reduce the burning sensation.
“This wouldn’t happen if you went to bed like you said,” Yoonchae mutters, rolling her eyes, but it lacks any real bite.
In lieu of a response, Megan looks at Yoonchae over the rim of her cup, a small crease in her brow as she lets out a few more puffs of air against the lid to try and cool her coffee down, and then she’s turning her head to look out the large lobby windows. Yoonchae can’t help that she’s compelled to follow Megan’s gaze.
Through the windows, Yoonchae can make out Bondi Beach. Barely. As in, she knows it's out there—all five of them had taken a trip out there last night—but she can’t see any grains of sand under the combination of moonlight and streetlights nor any of the dark ocean waves hitting the beach and turning into a soft white that blends into the sand. Yoonchae wonders what Megan’s seeing out there that she can’t see.
Megan tilts her head more, eyes narrowing, focusing, as she brings the cup back to her lips and takes another more cautious sip. Yoonchae watches her shoulders drop with a loud exhale this time at the no-longer scalding coffee.
The longer they stand here in the lobby, in silence, the easier it is for Yoonchae to start noticing the awkward feeling bubbling up in her. But, Megan seems like she needs to do… whatever it is she’s doing, so she ignores the tingling feeling in her palms and cocks out a hip to get in a more comfortable stance.
Thankfully, it’s only a few more seconds before Megan, without looking back at Yoonchae, asks, “How many times have you been out on the beach at night?”
Yoonchae blinks at the complete non-sequitur. “...Not a lot, I guess,” she says, shifting her stance. “I didn’t really go to the beach as a kid, and there’s no time now because we are, y’know, KATSEYE.”
“Well, Yoonchae, that just won’t do.” Megan then finally turns toward her, eyes bright and awake despite having claimed to be tired not even ten minutes ago. “Would you be keen on going out there with me again?” she says, slipping into an Australian accent that makes Yoonchae cringe a little when she thinks back to her own failed attempt at it.
“Now?” Yoonchae asks, the brown paper bag in her hand feeling warmer than before.
Megan shrugs, a small smile coming to her face the longer she looks over at Yoonchae. “Why not? C’mon it’ll be fun, I promise.” She then gestures to the bag in Yoonchae’s hand. “You can even eat your food out there. Have a little picnic on the beach.”
Yoonchae’s hesitation must be coming across clear because Megan turns on her pout, sad little puppy dog eyes coming with it. “Pretty please, Yoonchae? For me?”
Megan, Yoonchae decides right then and there, is completely unfair. She feels her ears go hot, making Megan’s coffee seem ice cold, and the tingling returns to her hands with full force. She swallows, throat swelling around the lump caught there.
“Megan, it’s late… and we have the fan meet tomorrow,” she tries, but even her own ears can hear how weak the argument is.
Megan steps closer, fingers wrapping around Yoonchae’s hoodie and tugging on it lightly. “And we’re here in Australia. Together. How many people can say that?” She tugs again, causing Yoonchae to take a step forward to keep her balance. Megan smiles grows at that, going more playful than before. “C’mon, Yoonchae. I know you’re eventually going to say yes to me.”
That is painfully, stupidly true, as much as Yoonchae hates to admit it. She bites her lip, looking over Megan’s shoulder and out the window again. There’s still no sand, no waves, for her to see, but she can imagine it a little more clearly now—the land breeze rapidly cooling her food, feeling the soft and smooth sand beneath her feet, how she’ll have to pretend she doesn’t notice Megan checking behind her every few seconds to make sure she’s still there.
As soon as this comes to mind, Yoonchae knows—knows in the same way that she knows she prefers a night in her bed over a night on the town—that she’s already lost any and all leverage in this argument.
She sighs, deeply and drawn out, and runs a hand through her hair. “Okay,” she concedes, trying to force annoyance into her voice but it ends up being something more comparable to breathless and fond. “If my food gets cold because you distract me, you will pay for my dinners next week. Snacks and drinks, too.”
“Deal.” Megan’s grin is as blinding as her laptop screen had been, whisker dimples on full display, as she fully latches onto Yoonchae, dragging her through the lobby and into the same section of the turnstile.
Megan takes them through it once, twice, spinning and circling, leaving Yoonchae at her mercy. When she finally takes them outside, the night air rushes into her lungs all at once, the faint taste of salt left behind on her lips. She releases her grip on Yoonchae as she leads them down the same path they used before, but she stays close enough that their fingers keep brushing the entire way down.
The moment they hit the beach, Megan is slipping off her shoes and throwing them down by the entrance. She inhales, head tilting back as her eyes flutter shut. “God… I have missed the beach so much.” Yoonchae watches her profile, the way the wind is blowing strands of hair from her face and makes her blend in perfectly with their surroundings. “LA is great and all, but their beaches can’t compare to the ones in Hawaii. This is, like, a close second, though.”
“You should take me sometime.”
Megan turns to her, expression softening, but Yoonchae doesn’t exactly know why. “Alright, c’mon,” she says, gently knocking her shoulder against Yoonchae’s before making her way down to the water. “Let’s go sit down before your food gets cold and you have to explain to Missy why my bank account is empty.”
Yoonchae huffs a laugh, mirthless and mostly through her nose, and follows behind Megan, sinking into the sand a little with every step she takes. At one point, she has a small stumble, having sunk in further than she’d expected, but she’s able to catch herself. Though, it made Megan slow down to a complete stop, raising an eyebrow at her, asking are you okay? without saying anything. Yoonchae feels her face flush embarrassingly fast and she gives a quick nod, motioning Megan to continue on in hopes she won’t make a comment this time on her usual clumsiness. Megan just snorts and continues on, though her pace is noticeably slower than it had been before.
They end up finding a spot farther down the shoreline and Megan plops herself down in a spot where Yoonchae can tell the tide hasn’t reached yet. Her coffee sloshes a little out of the hole in the lid, a few drops hitting her hand, but it’s not nearly as hot as before so she just brings her hand up to her mouth to lick them off. On the other hand, Yoonchae sets her bag down first and then sits down, adjusting herself a few times to get more comfortable.
Megan leans back into the sand, hands propping her up. “It’s really pretty out tonight, huh?” she offers, angling her head up to the sky. “Wow… Yoonchae, look, there’s a new moon tonight.”
Yoonchae’s not looking, eyes trained out at the ocean and its tide rising in front of her, but hums out a noncommittal response anyways. It’s fine, she supposes, because it’s not like Megan’s paying attention to what she’s doing anyways.
The waves are inching closer and closer to them with every pull of the moon—new moon, her brain unhelpfully supplies—slowly overriding the footprint-riddled sand of the shore. Another wave rolls in, higher and higher than any of the others before it. Yoonchae, for a second, wonders if it’s going to reach them, and if it reaches them will Megan shriek and jump back or will she laugh it off and try to splash her or both. But the break comes to a stop just as it’s about to touch the tip of her shoe, and then it’s sinking back into the ocean, leaving behind a dampened shore stripped of every mark left behind by someone else.
Yoonchae leans back on her hands, feeling the gritty, cool sand beneath her palms. The tide has seemed to hit its peak, the waves coming in lower and lower as time goes on, giving her no reason to look out there any longer. She turns her head towards Megan—unsure why she does it—but before she can even interrogate the thought, Megan’s hand is suddenly cupping her jaw, thumb slotting in the space between her jaw and ear. And then Megan’s lips are on hers, gentle and warm.
The sound Yoonchae makes is embarrassing, a strangled yelp muffled by Megan’s mouth, and her heart going from zero to sixty in a second. Her whole body goes rigid under the unfamiliar feeling, only for a moment, and then she’s coming back to her senses so she can kiss Megan back.
Except, Megan is already pulling back, hands dropping from Yoonchae’s face so fast that she convinces herself that the flush on her cheeks must be hot coals that Megan now only realizes she was holding. She scoots herself back a few inches from Yoonchae, putting too much space between them.
“Oh my god.” Her eyes, pupils blown and already starting to gloss over, dart up to meet Yoonchae’s. “I—sorry. I thought—” she stumbles over herself, voice cracking as she tries coming up with an explanation. “Yoonchae—”
Megan’s hand flies to her own mouth, pushing herself off the ground and onto shaky legs. “I’m— I’m gonna. Go.” She brushes invisible sand off the front of her pants. “Um. Yeah.”
From the moment Yoonchae decided she wanted to be a K-Pop idol, to sing and dance and perform for millions of people around the world, everyone’s been telling her to do one thing: reach for the stars. Truth be told, she didn’t really understand it at first. Why would anyone want to try for something so unattainable? How could anyone set themselves up so easily for disappointment? But, as her hand shoots out, wraps around Megan’s wrist, and those shaky, red-rimmed eyes meet hers—
“Megan…”
—She gets it. Why people want the unattainable, why they don’t fear the disappointment.
“Please… Don’t go.”
“I—” Megan hesitates, teeth tugging on her bottom lip—the same lips that just been on Yoonchae’s seconds ago—as she keeps switching between looking back at the exit and at Yoonchae. “Okay,” she sighs, but she turns her body so that she’s now fully facing Yoonchae. “Okay, Yoonchae.”
Relief washes over Yoonchae, her shoulders dropping all the tension that had been there, but she’s terrified. She lets out a long exhale, thumb brushing over the soft skin of Megan’s inner forearm, hearing how the small action causes her breath to hitch. When the sound hits her ear, she’s reeling, suddenly feeling as if she’s standing on stage but, despite every dance and lyric being second nature, she still ends up forgetting everything.
Her eyes drop down to where her hand is still wrapped around Megan’s wrist. “I am… probably the worst at this,” she swallows thickly, “But, I… am glad. That you kissed me. You are much more brave than me.”
When Megan lets out a strangled laugh, Yoonchae risks looking up, but she’s only met with Megan’s lips parted in disbelief. “Oh.”
Yoonchae clears her throat, trying her best not to pick at the fuzz on her sweatpants with her free hand. “You, um, surprised me. When you did that. I… never thought you would want that… Too.”
“Yoonchae,” Megan says after a while, huffing out a mirthless laugh, “you don’t know how hard I’ve been trying to not kiss you. For, like, a year now.”
A year, Yoonchae thinks. She’s been wanting to kiss me for a year. How had she missed that?
“Y’know, you didn’t make it easy for me,” Megan continues, lacing their fingers together and finally sitting back down to be at Yoonchae’s eye level. “Like, at all.”
Yoonchae can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her. She doesn’t believe Megan at all, but she plays along, saying, “Me? Difficult? I don’t think we are talking about the same person.”
“Yes. You,” she says, pinching Yoonchae’s side with her free hand. “I’ve felt, like, crazy this entire time. Like, I was just imagining everything, how you looked at me.” She then smiles, small and close-lipped, whisker dimples barely visible. “Really glad to know I wasn’t crazy after all.”
“I wouldn’t say that…”
“Hey!” Megan's smile grows wider as she leans in, swatting at Yoonchae’s shoulder, but she doesn’t make a move backwards, lingering in Yoonchae’s space.
Yoonchae looks down at Megan’s mouth, licking her own lips, and then back up to Megan’s eyes. Then, before she can lose the nerve, she leans forward. And Megan is there to meet her halfway.
Megan threads her hands through Yoonchae’s hair and pulls her closer, lightly scratching the baby hairs at the base of her neck, and Yoonchae is sure she’s never felt anything better. She smiles into the kiss—Yoonchae can feel their teeth clacking a little as she does but she doesn’t really mind it—and then she’s pulling back, keeping their foreheads pressed together.
A puff of air comes across Yoonchae’s lips, but she realizes it’s because Megan’s laughing. “What’s so funny?” she asks, frowning.
“I’m sorry— Sorry,” Megan says, not sounding very apologetic at all. “It’s just that I can’t believe this is actually happening. Like, my mind is totally going, like, oh my god is this realllll?”
Yoonchae pulls her head back so she can give Megan a disgusted look. “You really know how to ruin a moment,” she sighs, looking away so can bite back her smile. “Why do I like you?”
It’s not until Megan is smirking over at her that Yoonchae realizes the mistake she made. “Oooo…” she gloats. “Yoonchae said she likes me.”
“Oh my god,” Yoonchae groans, covering her face with her hands.
“No—! Say it again!” Megan grabs Yoonchae's hands, pulling them into her lap. “Say you like me again.”
Yoonchae puffs out her cheeks, trying to ignore her super-heated cheeks. “…It’s not that easy.” And as she watches the teasing look fade from Megan’s face, the harder it is to keep her nerve. “I am…scared. Now, I think, more than ever.”
“Okay... But why?”
“I think…” she swallows, giving herself a chance to find the right words to say. “I think I am still scared… because I could mess everything up.”
Now, Megan looks genuinely confused. “Ruin? What are you talking about? Yoonchae—”
“When—If—people find out, you will be in more trouble. Because you are older,” she explains, exhaling sharply when Megan’s still looking at her with a confused expression. “I don’t want to cause you trouble. More trouble. That—I don’t want.”
Logically, Yoonchae knows she’s being kind of irrational about this. She knows that Megan understands what it’s like to be an idol, all of the risks that come with having dating rumors and how easily scandals can be fabricated, so she wouldn’t have kissed Yoonchae without taking all of this into consideration.
“Hey, Yoonchae. Look at me please?” Megan runs her thumb a few times over Yoonchae’s knuckles. “You’re thinking, like, too many steps ahead right now. We can figure things out as we go.” She leans a little closer, eyes hopeful. “So, can we just enjoy this moment? Here and now?”
“…Okay, Megan,” Yoonchae says after a moment, nodding slowly as she chokes back the bile of fear building in her throat. “We can enjoy the now.”
“Okay?” Megan parrots back.
“Stop talking and kiss me.”
Megan lets go of her hands, bringing up one of her own to brush a strand of hair out of Yoonchae’s face. “Whenever you want,” she pecks Yoonchae’s cheek, pausing to hover in front of her lips. “Whenever you want."