Chapter Text
The girls were sprawled around the living room, enjoying their hiatus. The air smelled faintly of hot chocolate.
Mira lounged against the couch, her back pressed to the cushions while Zoey sat comfortably between her legs. Zoey can feel Mira falling asleep against her shoulder. On the floor in front of them, Rumi sat cross-legged as Zoey worked on braiding her hair. They put on a movie for backround noise, as well as the humidifier that was mixing lavander into the hot chocolate scent.
It was a nice moment. Slow in a way they never knew they needed. Peaceful.
Until Zoey's phone suddenly erupted from the coffee table in front of them.
BZZZZZZZZZZ! BZZZZZZZZZZ!
All three of their heads snapped toward it.
"Rumi, m'love? Can you pass me my phone?" Zoey asked sweetly, giving one of the girl's braids a gentle tug.
Rumi reached over and picked it up. An unknown number.
She handed it over, and Zoey rewarded her with a quick kiss on the forehead. Rumi immediately flushed.
Mira returned her attention to the movie. Rumi did the same.
The raven-haired girl accepted the call and tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear, continuing to work on Rumi's hair.
"Helloooo?" she sang.
"Zoey?"
The moment the voice came through the speaker, Zoey froze.
Her eyes widened.
She knew that voice.
Zoey immediately sat up straighter, causing Mira, who had been leaning against her shoulder, to jerk her head up in surprise. In her haste, Zoey's fingers became tangled in Rumi's hair as she scrambled to grab the phone properly.
"Ow," Rumi hissed softly as her head was pulled back.
But Zoey barely seemed to notice.
Her grip tightened around the phone.
Her girls noticed the change immediately.
The way her shoulders stiffened. The way her jaw locked. The way all traces of warmth disappeared from her face.
Mira and Rumi exchanged a glance, carrying out an entire conversation with their eyes alone before returning their attention to the maknae.
Zoey took a slow breath, staring straight ahead.
"No. You got the wrong number."
The girls watched closely.
Without a word, Mira wrapped her arms around Zoey's waist from behind, pulling her closer. Rumi shifted until her cheek rested against Zoey's knee, absentmindedly brushing her thumb over it.
Grounding her.
Reminding her she wasn't alone.
"Zoey, please. It's important," the voice pleaded.
"Kwon—"
"Zoey. Please. I'm your brother. Please listen to me."
She hesitated.
"You have three sentences," Zoey replied coldly.
A beat passed.
Mira and Rumi had never heard her speak like that before.
Zoey was gentle. Patient. Forgiving to a fault.
Whoever was on the other end of that call had somehow become an exception.
"Okay. Dad has cancer. He's dying, and he wants all of us to come back to Burbank. He wants to meet our partners and spend his last weeks with us as a family."
The words hit like a freight train.
Zoey's breath caught.
Her eyes widened, all color draining from her face. The hand holding the phone trembled violently, and she immediately pressed her free hand against her chest as if trying to keep her heart from breaking apart.
For a moment, she simply stared.
Unblinking.
Frozen.
Then her bottom lip quivered.
The first tear slipped down her cheek.
Then another.
And another.
"w-what?" she whispered.
The word came out fractured.
Barely audible.
"Zo?" Mira asked softly, one hand moving up to rub comforting circles against her arm.
Rumi immediately turned to face her fully.
Her eyes were filled with concern, but also certainty.
You're okay.
You're safe.
We're here.
The tears flowed freely now.
Silently.
Yet Zoey's expression remained eerily composed, as though years of practice had taught her how to cry without falling apart.
Rumi gently wiped away each tear as it fell.
On the other end of the line, Kwon exhaled shakily.
"Can I get more sentences?"
"Go," Zoey replied instantly.
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.
Mira's arms tightened around Zoey's waist while Rumi shifted closer, pressing herself against the younger girl's side and resting her head against her shoulder. Between them, Zoey felt trapped in the gentlest way possible.
Held.
Neither of them said anything.
They simply stayed close.
"Right, um..." Kwon cleared his throat. "Dad said he has about three weeks left. He wants everyone back in Burbank by Friday. Austin's already there and In-jae's on his way."
Zoey swallowed.
Her throat hurt.
"That's all?"
"Yeah."
A pause.
"That's all. See you there, Zoey."
The call ended.
Silence filled the room.
For a second, nobody moved.
Then Zoey's phone slipped from her hand and landed on the couch.
The youngest suddenly turned and threw herself at Rumi.
Not gracefully.
Not elegantly.
She practically crashed into her, arms locking around her neck as a broken sob tore from her chest.
The sound was horrible.
Raw.
The kind of cry that came from somewhere deep.
"Oh, baby..."
Mira immediately pulled herself closer, wrapping both arms around Zoey and pressing her face against the back of her shoulder.
"It's okay," she whispered.
Another sob ripped through Zoey.
"I know. I know."
Rumi tightened her hold.
Zoey buried her face into her neck, shaking so violently that both girls had to support most of her weight.
"It's okay," Rumi repeated.
Not because it was.
But because there was nothing else to say.
Mira pressed a kiss beneath Zoey's ear.
Then another.
Then another.
As if somehow that could help.
As if she could kiss away the pain.
"Can you breathe for us, Jagiya?" Rumi asked softly.
Zoey shook her head immediately.
She couldn't.
Everything hurt.
Her chest hurt.
Her throat hurt.
Even breathing hurt.
"That's okay," Rumi soothed.
"We'll do it together."
Rumi took a slow breath.
Mira followed.
A second later, Zoey desperately copied them.
The first attempt dissolved into a sob.
The second wasn't much better.
By the third, she managed a shaky inhale.
"There you go," Mira murmured.
"Good job, sweetheart."
Zoey cried harder.
Because she wasn't doing a good job.
She wasn't strong.
She wasn't handling this.
Her father was dying.
The man who used to carry her on his shoulders.
The man who taught her how to ride a bike.
The man who still called her his little girl even after she'd become a celebrity.
He was dying.
And there was nothing she could do.
Eventually she managed to pull back enough to look at them.
Her eyes were red.
Glass-like.
Lost.
"I'm..." she tried.
A sob interrupted her.
"I'm.. So..."
Rumi immediately grabbed both of her hands.
"You don't have to talk."
Zoey looked at her.
"But—"
"You don't have to explain."
Rumi squeezed her fingers.
"You don't have to be okay."
A fresh wave of tears spilled down Zoey's face.
"You don't have to be strong either."
That one broke her.
Because she'd spent years being strong.
Years smiling through exhaustion.
Years pretending things didn't hurt.
Years convincing herself she didn't need anyone.
And now Rumi was looking at her like she could fall apart completely and still be loved.
The realization shattered something inside her.
"M-my dad has cancer," she choked out.
The words felt impossible.
Like saying them made them real.
"He's dying."
Her voice cracked.
"There's nothing I can do."
Immediately Mira reached for her.
Both hands.
Both arms.
Everything.
She held Zoey's face and wiped away tears that refused to stop.
"Oh, sweetheart."
Mira's eyes were glossy too.
"We're so sorry."
"So, so sorry."
Zoey shook her head.
"I haven't even seen him in years."
The confession spilled out before she could stop it.
"I barely call."
Another sob.
"I always say I'm busy."
Her shoulders shook.
"I kept thinking there'd be more time."
The room went silent.
Because that was the cruel thing about death.
Everyone always thought there would be more time.
Rumi's heart cracked.
Without hesitation she pulled Zoey into her lap and wrapped both arms around her.
"There was never a perfect amount of calls you could've made."
Zoey cried against her shoulder.
"There was never a perfect visit."
Another kiss to her hair.
"You loved him."
Another.
"And he knows you love him."
Another.
"He called for you, didn't he?"
Zoey nodded weakly.
"Then he knows."
The younger girl completely melted into her.
Exhausted.
Heartbroken.
Small.
Mira rubbed slow circles into her back.
"We'll go with you."
Zoey didn't answer.
She simply cried.
"We'll be there the whole time."
A kiss to her temple.
"You won't have to do any of this alone."
Rumi nodded.
"Not the flight."
A squeeze.
"Not the family."
Another squeeze.
"Not the hospital."
Another.
"Not any of it."
Finally, Zoey looked up.
"I..." Zoey pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. "I don't know what I'm gonna do."
Her voice came out small.
Fragile.
The kind of voice that only appeared when she was exhausted enough to stop pretending she was okay.
"I have to face my siblings."
She groaned and let her head fall back against the couch.
"Gosh... ugh."
Rumi tilted her head.
"What's bad about that?"
Zoey lowered her hands and stared at the ceiling.
The question wasn't unfair.
The three of them didn't really talk about family much.
Only when it was situations like this.
Situations that cracked something open.
Like the night after the Idol Awards when Rumi had finally talked about Celine, her mother, her father, all the hurt she'd been carrying for years.
Or when Mira had admitted just how angry she'd been the day her parents ordered her disownment.
Those conversations never happened casually.
Only when the pain became too heavy to carry alone.
And now it was Zoey's turn.
"I don't know," she admitted quietly.
A humorless laugh escaped her.
"It's not like I hate them."
Her fingers twisted together in her lap.
"We're just..."
She searched for the right word.
"Distant."
The room grew quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
Just thoughtful.
"We all got busy." Zoey shrugged. "In-jae stayed in Burbank. Austin moved around for work. Kwon..." She paused briefly. "Kwon's Kwon."
That earned a small snort from Mira.
Zoey smiled weakly.
"And I became an idol."
Her shoulders slumped.
"We call sometimes. Birthdays. Holidays. Stuff like that."
She swallowed.
"But it's been years since we've all been together."
Rumi reached over and took one of her hands.
"You still love them."
The answer came immediately.
"Of course I do."
Zoey looked down at their joined hands.
"I just..."
She sighed.
"I don't know how to be around them anymore."
The confession hung heavily in the room.
Because that was somehow sadder than anger.
There wasn't some dramatic falling out.
No betrayal.
No screaming match.
Just time.
Distance.
Life.
And somehow that had been enough.
Mira squeezed her shoulder.
"You don't have to figure that out right now."
Zoey looked at her.
"You don't have to walk into that house with some perfect relationship."
Mira smiled softly.
"You just have to go."
Rumi nodded.
"One thing at a time."
The younger girl let out a shaky breath.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
The silence settled around them comfortably.
Then Rumi lifted a hand and gently cupped Zoey's cheek.
"What's on your mind right now, Jagiya?" she asked softly.
It all felt so safe.
Something Zoey was never really used to.
The way Mira absentmindedly rubbed her arm.
The warmth of Rumi's hand against her face.
The way they were looking at her.
Not expecting anything from her.
Not asking her to be strong.
Just staying.
Holding her together.
Giving her no chance to come apart.
She felt seen.
Loved.
Safe.
Zoey took a deep breath.
"What's on my mind right now," she said, letting out a weak laugh, "is how I'm gonna introduce you both to my family."
"Introduce us?" Mira immediately perked up.
Beside her, Rumi listened closely.
"So, uh..." Zoey rubbed the back of her neck. "Dad wants all of his children back in Burbank."
She hesitated.
"He wants us to bring our spouses and spend the last of his days as one big..." she made air quotes, "...happy family."
The emphasis on happy wasn't lost on either of them.
Mira and Rumi exchanged a look.
A silent one.
An 'okay, we can do this, dont panic' look.
The kind they'd perfected after years of knowing each other.
Zoey watched them carefully.
"So..." she said sheepishly. "Are you guys cool with flying to Burbank tonight?"
"Tonight?!" Rumi's eyes widened.
She immediately sat up straighter.
"That's— wait, how are we supposed to—"
Her brows furrowed as she mentally began planning.
Flights.
Packing.
Meeting Zoey's family.
Meeting her dying father.
Everything suddenly felt very real.
And very fast.
Unfortunately, Zoey saw the expression and immediately assumed the worst.
Her shoulders curled inward.
She shrank into herself.
Mira noticed instantly.
"Hey."
She placed a hand on Rumi's shoulder before turning toward Zoey.
Then she reached forward and grabbed her hand.
"Hey."
Her voice softened.
"It's okay."
Zoey looked up.
"We can get Bobby to arrange a flight tonight, hmm?"
Mira squeezed her fingers.
"It's not an inconvenience."
The tension visibly drained from Zoey's shoulders.
The last thing she wanted was to become another source of stress.
"So..." she started quietly, her eyes dropped. "I'm not being an inconvenience to whatever you guys had planned this month?"
Neither of them answered immediately.
Which somehow made her more nervous.
Her voice got even smaller.
"I'm not a problem?"
Rumi's entire expression crumpled.
"Oh, baby"
Before Zoey could react, Rumi was cupping her face.
Then she kissed her, soft and slow. Grounding her.
The kind of kiss that felt like being wrapped in a blanket after standing in the rain.
When she pulled away, she kept their foreheads together.
"Oh no. Gosh, no."
Her thumbs brushed against Zoey's cheeks.
"Of course you're not an inconvenience."
Another kiss.
"You are never a problem."
Another.
"You could never be."
Something in Zoey's chest loosened.
A knot she hadn't realized was there.
Rumi straightened and gently pulled her forward until the younger girl was tucked safely against her.
One hand stroked through her hair.
The other rubbed slow circles against her back.
"I'm sorry for reacting like that, my love."
Zoey immediately shook her head.
"You don't have to—"
"But I want to."
Rumi kissed her temple.
"You aren't causing me problems."
Another kiss.
"I promise."
Another.
"I'm just a perfectionist trying to figure out how we're gonna do this."
A small laugh escaped her.
"But we're gonna do it."
Her arms tightened.
"Together."
"Together," Mira echoed immediately.
The certainty in their voices nearly made Zoey cry again.
Because they didn't hesitate.
Not once.
Not when they found out her father was dying.
Not when they found out they had to leave tonight.
Not when they found out they'd be meeting her family.
They simply chose her.
Over and over.
Every single time.
"You know," Mira added, gently brushing a strand of hair behind Zoey's ear, "if your family gives you a hard time, Rumi and I can always fight them."
Zoey stared at her.
Rumi stared at her.
Mira shrugged.
"What? I'm just offering solutions."
That finally earned a laugh.
A real one.
Small.
Watery.
But real.
"You guys are such saps." Zoey wiped a tear away.
"Wow." Mira rolled her eyes.
Though the smile on her face ruined the effect.
"No comment," Rumi replied.
She tipped Zoey's chin up, booped her nose, and ruffled her hair.
The younger girl immediately groaned.
"Hey!"
"Adorable."
"Rumi."
"Very adorable."
"Rumi!"
Mira's phone buzzed she glanced down then grinned.
"Texted Bobby."
Both girls looked at her.
"Flight's at ten."
Zoey blinked.
"Already?"
"Benefits of being rich."
"That's such a ridiculous sentence."
"Yet it solved our problem."
Rumi laughed and stood, extending a hand toward Zoey.
"Come on, cutie."
Zoey stared at the offered hand for a second before taking it.
Rumi pulled her to her feet.
"We've got bags to pack."
"Mirakins, let go, baby." Rumi signalled with her head.
Without warning, Rumi grabbed Mira's free hand too.
The older girl barely had time to react before she was being dragged away.
"Ruuuuumss!" Mira whined. "I wasn't done texting!"
Rumi burst out laughing.
"Pft. Sorry, honey."
"You are not sorry."
"A little sorry."
"Liar."
Zoey giggled at girls' bickering.
With Rumi holding one hand and Mira holding the other, the three girls made their way toward Zoey's room.
There were bags to pack.
Stories to tell.
And a flight to Burbank waiting for them at ten.
...
Zoey told them about her brothers as they packed.
The conversation came naturally. Between folded shirts and half-zipped suitcases, Mira and Rumi kept asking questions, eager to know the people waiting for them in Burbank.
Kwon came first.
Her eldest brother.
He was married and had two children, a daughter and a son. He ran Kaiz now, the family restaurant their parents had opened years ago to support the family while her father balanced military deployments and raising four children.
Zoey smiled despite herself when she talked about her niece and nephew.
She sent them gifts all the time.
The newest shoes.
The latest gadgets.
Pretty dresses.
Anything they asked for, really.
Rumi had laughed and called her a pushover.
Zoey didn't deny it.
Still, things between her and Kwon weren't exactly good anymore.
There was a reason for that.
One she wasn't quite ready to tell yet.
Thankfully, neither Mira nor Rumi pushed.
Austin came next.
Her second older brother.
Whether he had a girlfriend or not was still up for debate.
At least according to Zoey.
She didn't trust the woman.
Never had.
There was something about the way she constantly disappointed Austin, only for him to make excuses for her afterward, that rubbed Zoey the wrong way.
Austin deserved better.
Though if she said that out loud he'd probably accuse her of being overprotective.
Which was rich coming from him.
Austin had practically spent his entire life scaring away anyone who showed even the slightest interest in his baby sister.
Every crush.
Every admirer.
Every poor soul unfortunate enough to compliment Zoey in his presence.
Mira and Rumi were both secretly grateful for his service.
The two of them nearly fell over laughing when Zoey admitted that.
Then there was In-jae.
The youngest brother. The youngest in general.
She honestly wasn't entirely sure where he was nowadays.
Somewhere.
Living life.
Being In-jae.
What she did remember was the enormous crush he'd had when they were younger.
When Zoey first moved to Korea for idol training, In-jae would call her constantly to talk about a boy.
The same boy.
Every single time.
He'd spend an hour ranting about how handsome he was.
How funny he was.
How perfect he was.
He was fourteen at this time and Zoey was fifteen.
According to In-jae, him and his prince? they were destined for marriage.
The memory made Zoey laugh.
Mira and Rumi immediately demanded every embarrassing detail she could remember.
To Zoey's surprise, talking about them felt good.
Really good.
She hadn't spoken about her family this much in years.
Maybe because nobody ever asked.
Or maybe because talking about them always made her miss them.
Either way, her heart felt a little fuller every time Mira and Rumi asked another question.
Like they genuinely cared.
Like they wanted to know every piece of her.
Not just the easy parts.
The conversation eventually drifted toward her father.
The room quieted a little then.
Her hands slowed as she folded one of her sweaters.
"Dad was barely home growing up," she admitted.
"Military."
The word alone explained enough.
"He was always being deployed somewhere."
A small smile appeared.
"But whenever he was home, he made every second count."
She talked about family outings.
Road trips.
Movie nights.
The way her father somehow managed to squeeze months worth of love into the few weeks he had with them before leaving again.
And when he did leave, they had a system.
A leather notebook.
Her and her brothers would write messages to him while he was gone.
At the top of the page they'd write their name, then leave updates, stories, jokes, anything they wanted.
When he returned home, he'd sit down and read every page.
Mira's face immediately melted.
"Do you remember anything you wrote?"
Zoey paused.
Then laughed.
"Oh my God."
The memory had surfaced instantly.
Without warning.
She could practically see the messy handwriting.
"Yeah."
The girls waited eagerly.
Zoey shook her head.
"I was like eight."
"Even better."
She rolled her eyes before reciting it.
Zoey
Dad, I'm so alone here in this big, BIG house. My brothers are out again, boys day, they say. OH! THAT RHYMES. I'll write a song for you Daddy! And I'll sing it when you come back!
The room exploded.
Mira and Rumi immediately clutched their chests. Eyes glowing with stars.
"Awwwwwwww."
"You were adorable."
Zoey buried her face in her hands.
The laughter lingered for a while after that.
Warm.
Comfortable.
The kind that made the room feel lighter.
Eventually it faded.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward.
Just thoughtful.
Zoey folded the last shirt in her hands before setting it aside.
Her gaze dropped to her lap.
"My mom..."
The words immediately caught their attention.
Both girls stopped what they were doing.
Zoey stared at her hands.
"She died when I was sixteen."
The room went still.
"It was really hard for all of us."
Her voice softened.
"Austin was never home. He always found comfort with his girlfriend."
She swallowed.
"Kwon threw himself into work."
A pause.
"I focused on being an idol."
Another.
"And In-jae moved out and spent most of his time crashing with friends."
She looked down.
"So none of us were really home anymore."
The words hurt more now than they did back then.
Because looking back, she could finally see it.
All four of them were grieving.
Just in different directions.
"There were still moments though."
A sad smile appeared.
"Sometimes me and In-jae would both end up flying home. Austin would show up. Kwon would somehow leave work early."
The smile grew fainter.
"And we'd all just sit there waiting for Dad."
Waiting for him to come through the door.
Waiting for things to feel normal again.
And he did come home. Every time.
"But over the years..." Zoey sighed.
"Problems happened."
Life happened.
People changed.
"And eventually we all just lived our own lives."
For a moment, nobody said anything.
Then Rumi moved first.
She scooted across the floor and wrapped her arms around Zoey.
Mira immediately joined.
Sandwiching the youngest between them once again.
"You aren't alone anymore, Zozo," Rumi whispered.
Mira kissed the top of her head.
"That's right, darling. We're your family too."
Zoey closed her eyes.
And for the first time that night, she let herself lean into them completely.
Feeling the pain.
The nostalgia.
The grief.
The love.
All of it.
Because she wasn't carrying it alone anymore.
...
10pm..
The girls were on the plane, on time.
Zoey sat in the middle seat, Rumi and Mira read a magazine beside her
"What if they hate you?"
The question escaped before she could stop it.
"What if my family hates you?"
Zoey's eyes began to water again.
Mira actually laughed.
A small laugh.
Disbelieving.
"Baby."
Rumi smiled softly.
"We're not scared of your family."
"We're scared for you."
That finally earned a watery laugh from Zoey.
She felt happier, almost normal.
Just a little.
Not because things were okay.
But because she was always reassured in many ways, that she wasn't alone anymore.