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bytemee · 2 days ago

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OPERA HOUSE — yu jimin.

♫ playing… opera house by cigarettes after sex

synopsis. you moved to seoul for school, with barely enough money to cover your rent, a language you were still learning clumsy and slow, and your little sister back home constantly asking you to look out for her favorite idols, as if they’d just show up next to you at a crosswalk. you weren’t here to chase anything. not fame, not love, not even a dream, really but just something to make it through. but she found you anyway, and in her mind, without meaning to, she started building something quiet and vast just for you — like an opera house tucked deep in a place no one else could reach, a place no one else would ever know how to find, and she still doesn’t understand why or how or what it was supposed to mean, only that she was meant to love you, and even now, even after everything, she still does.

pairing. idol!karina x collegestudent!fem!reader

genre. romance, slow burn, angst / hurt-comfort, emotional drama.

disclaimer(s). unresolved trauma, ANGST bruh, fluffy too heh, kissing, L translated korean (not a lot dont fear), lot of timeskips, karina wants that cookie so bad dude...and let me know if there's more! ummmm im gonna post this pt1 then go watch netflix.. idk why tumblrs making me split this </3

word count. 15.9k

you don't mind seoul's cold. it isn't like the cold of chicago, harsh and unforgiving, not even in the summer months; seoul's winter is different—like a brisk walk along a busy street. it bites a little, sure—stings your fingers and makes your ears go numb when you forget your beanie, but you hardly notice it as much anymore.

you tighten your hoodie around your neck as you cut across the courtyard, ignoring the wind that pushes through your sleeves. it's late, almost evening, but there's still a current of students moving in and out of the library, some of them calling out to friends as they walk by. you nod at the security guard on your way out, tugging your hood up and placing a hand over it before the wind can rip it off again like it did this morning.

seoul always felt like something you were running toward.

you could've studied in the states. stayed close to home. slept in your own bed and driven twenty minutes to campus and saved yourself the burnout that came with moving across the world. but you didn't want that—not really. you didn't want to feel like you were just waiting around for something bigger to happen. you wanted the bigger thing. you wanted movement, change, and growth, and you wanted to learn somewhere that didn't already know you and didn't already expect things from you—somewhere with a pulse that would beat against you the same way.

you're studying to be an actress, though you still wince a little when you say that out loud. it sounds like a pipe dream, even if you're already here doing it. your classmates speak fluent korean, dance between monologues like it's instinct, and some of them already have managers, signed with real agencies, while you spend the last hour of every friday trying to make a business call to your parents to sound like something less than an absolute fucking mess.

your parents were quiet when you first told them you were studying fine arts. like the news wasn't sinking in, or maybe like they didn't hear you right. even so, they didn't ask you to stay, but they didn't exactly celebrate the news either. your mom packed your bags with tears she pretended not to have, and your dad drove you to the airport and shook your hand outside of customs and wished you well.

he didn't tell you he loved you or even say goodbye. just: "good luck."

maybe he doesn't think you'll make it.

your sister, on the other hand, cried at your farewell, bawled the whole drive from your house to the airport, and wrapped herself around your arm until your father pulled her away at security, but it's her you call most nights, a fourteen-hour time difference making it impossible to keep a steady relationship with anyone except the internet. she always asks you how things are, how school is, how work is, and when are you coming back home.

sometimes you can't even answer her. you miss her, too, sometimes more than the rest. but you know if you told her the truth, she wouldn't understand. you aren't the type to complain or to break, but when you tell her things are fine, you're lying through your teeth, and it's the worst kind of feeling, a loneliness that eats its way into the back of your head, where all your doubts hide in wait, like vipers, ready to bite.

still, you don't give them much opportunity these days. there isn't room to feed your demons with doubt. not anymore, not after all the progress you've made, not after finally getting somewhere and finding your stride, a voice, a little courage, enough to look past the ache.

you press your tongue to your teeth and look down at your phone, checking the banking app again. the tuition charge is still pending. it's always a little brutal seeing that much money disappear in one click, but it's the cost of trying—of proving to yourself that you're serious about this.

you duck into the gs25 on the corner, blowing into your hands to warm them up. the heater blasts in your face the second you walk in, and you groan a little, shoving your frozen fingers in your hoodie. you head to the atm near the back, card in, code, bank menu, tuition tab. you pause when the numbers come up.

still feels like a punch.

you hover for a second, then press confirm. the screen blinks, and your balance shrinks right afterwards. you pull the receipt, fold it once, and slide it into your wallet without looking.you should feel proud, but mostly you just feel tired.

as you step back into the cold, the air hits harder now that your body's adjusted to the heat. you rub your arms, swiftly making your way towards the subway. it's only a couple of minutes' walk from here. thankfully.

your phone buzzes in your pocket.

[incoming call: livi 👩‍👧]

you smile as you answer.

"yo," you say, shifting your bag higher onto your shoulder as you walk toward the subway station.

"oh my god, finally! i've been waiting for you to wake up." your younger sister's voice comes through the line, and your grin widens. "guess what? aespa just announced their fansigns, and the first one is in seoul in two weeks. you have to go and send me pictures. i can only imagine how cute they are in person—the posters are not doing them justice. seriously, you have to get me selfies of them, or i won't believe they exist—"

you snort, weaving through the crowd. "you're acting like they're cryptids or something."they are," livi insists. "gorgeous, talented cryptids. especially karina."

you shake your head. "you want me to go just for karina?"

"duh. who else? wait, no—actually, get some of winter too. and ningning. oh! and giselle, obviously!"

"so... the whole group?"

"obviously," she huffs. you shake your head, only half-listening as she rambles about the group's latest comeback. you don't hate k-pop or anything, but it's never really been your thing. livi, on the other hand, is obsessed. you've lost count of how many times she's forced you to watch aespa performances, the interviews, and fancams. though it normally slips out your brain five minutes later.

"livi, i literally just dropped a tuition payment. unless you want me to go broke for a fan sign, it's not happening."

she groans. "you act like you don't have a job."

"having a job doesn't mean i magically have money," you deadpan.

livi scoffs. "yeah, but you're like... responsible and stuff. you always figure it out."

you smile a little at the compliment. livi may be a pain sometimes, but you love her to death. she has her moments, and while she can be annoying, it means a lot that she thinks you have your shit together.

well. most of the time.

you step onto the subway, leaning against the pole as the doors slide shut. "i don't think i qualify as a fan, liv."

"doesn't matter. you'd be there for me."

you roll your eyes. "we'll see."

livi gasps. "wait. that wasn't a no. that wasn't a no!"

the train jerks forward, and you tighten your grip on the pole. "bye, livi."

"wait—"

she's most likely not going to let this go. she never does. but as much as you try to push it out of your mind, the idea lingers. it might be fun, honestly. you could use the break, and it's been a while since you've done something spontaneous.

but then there's the cost. the thought makes you groan.

there's no way in hell you can afford it.

you pull out your phone again, checking the time—nearly six. the day's almost done. soon enough, you'll be back at your apartment, getting a good dinner and maybe catching up on some homework before bed.

a quiet evening, like always. maybe after dinner, you'll stop by the convenience store down the street. the one with the cute cat that's as fat as a balloon. the train screeches to a halt at your stop, snapping you out of your thoughts. you step off, weaving through the crowds as you exit into the street. the sky's beginning to darken, the sunset painting the horizon in orange and pink. you take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fried dumplings and hotteok. the smells waft from the food stands nearby, making your stomach grumble.

your phone buzzes, and you check it as you walk, the screen lighting up with a text.

"i'm home! i need to practice makeup on you for class. you down?"

you grin and reply, "promise not to make me look like a zombie this time."

it only takes a minute for the response to pop up.

"i'll take that as a yes. see you soon :)"

sora's your roommate, your best friend, basically your entire lifeline here in korea. she's a year older than you and studies special effects makeup, so her hobby often turns into her practice space, and you're usually the unsuspecting victim. you've had your fair share of gory looks, from grotesque scars to completely turned faces, but it's worth it. she's the most passionate person you know, and her hard work is starting to pay off.

you step through the door to the apartment building, making your way toward the elevator. it's a short ride to the seventh floor, and the doors slide open, revealing the hallway.

you unlock the door, dropping your keys on the counter and setting your bag down. sora's already sitting on the floor, her makeup kit spread out like an artist's palette. she grins when she sees you. "you're right on time. sit down and let me work my magic."

her boyfriend, jae, pops his head into the room just as you sit on the floor. he smiles when he sees you.

"hey, y/n. you're here."

"she's my test subject," sora explains.

"ah. that's unfortunate."

you roll your eyes at jae's teasing, but a grin tugs at the corners of your lips. "it's not that bad," you say, crossing your legs and sitting on the floor as sora starts pulling out her various makeup tools.

sora scoffs, clearly unbothered by jae's jab. "you're lucky to be the test subject. i've mastered the art of making people look beautifully gory. it's a gift."

jae laughs. "you mean you've mastered the art of making y/n look like she's from a zombie apocalypse movie?"

you can't help but laugh at the memory of the last look she did. you've ended up covered in fake blood, with scars and cuts and a mangled hand, courtesy of sora's skills. it'd been impressive, even if it'd taken hours to remove.

sora waves her brush in the air. "don't insult my talent, jae. this is why i have to practice." he holds his hands up in surrender. "my bad."

she smiles, waving him off. "it's fine, but y/n is my muse, not yours. now, shoo."

jae shakes his head, giving her a kiss before turning to leave. "have fun. try not to get makeup all over the floor this time, please."

she flips him off as the door closes behind him, and you giggle. sora and jae are perfect for each other. they've been dating since the beginning of the year, and they've been nothing but good to each other. you're glad sora's found someone who treats her well. she deserves the world. "okay, y/n," she says, grabbing a tube of foundation. "close your eyes."

you close your eyes, trying not to flinch when the brush touches your skin. she works in silence for a few minutes, only speaking to ask you to tilt your head or to dab more makeup. finally, the brushes stop, and you open your eyes.

"done?"

"not yet," sora says. "this one's gonna take a while."

you groan. "sora..."

"it's worth it!"

you sigh, closing your eyes again. you're starting to get hungry. like really hungry to the point you think you'll have to start squeezing in your stomach to silence your growling. it doesn't help that you can smell the kimchi sora cooked earlier.

"so," sora begins, and you can practically hear the smile in her voice. "did you think any more about the fan sign?"

"livi already called to tell you about it?"

"yes. she wants me to convince you to go, so here i am, convincing you."

you crack open one eye, squinting at her. "how did she even get your number?"

sora grins. "she's sneaky. anyway, i'm not taking sides, but she made a good argument. you could use a break. you've been working so hard lately."

"less talking, more makeup! i'm starving."

sora hums quietly as she smooths another layer of makeup across your cheek, her thumb bracing your jaw with a light, practiced touch. her brows knit in concentration, her teeth pinching the inside of her cheek. "you know livi won't drop the fan sign thing, right? she'll keep bringing it up."

"unfortunately," you say. "i'll think about it."

"you know, i heard that aespa is pretty chill with their fans."

"mm-hmm."

"i bet if you just asked nicely, they'd let you take pictures."

"sure."

"maybe even selfies."

"whatever."

sora chuckles, grabbing a sponge and dabbing some foundation under your eyes. there's no getting through to you, so she quits while she's ahead. you're not sure if you're grateful or annoyed at her stubbornness, but you appreciate her for trying to convince you. her brushstrokes slow down, more focused. she's nearing the end. you hope. you shift a little to get more comfortable, your back starting to ache from sitting on the hard floor, and sora taps your shoulder. "stay still. almost done."

she falls silent again, still humming under her breath while she concentrates. her brows furrow slightly as she leans forward, carefully applying some fake blood to your lip. and with nothing to distract you, your brain drifts back to the thought of going to the fan sign. it might be nice to do something like that, to have some fun for once. you don't know many people here, and you don't have much time to go out, so a chance like this wouldn't come again anytime soon. and if you did go, livi would be happy. you would be doing her a favor. maybe you should go.

just as you're about to open your mouth and say something—maybe not a full yes, but something—sora pulls back and claps her hands. "done!"

you blink your eyes open. she's grinning, proud, already reaching over to grab the mirror. when she hands it to you, you brace for impact.

you hold it up, expecting disaster—and yeah, it's dramatic. a huge gash runs from your cheekbone to your jaw, layered with bruises and dried blood, fake of course, but it looks real. your eye is swollen, blackened by makeup, and your bottom lip is split, bloody, like someone took a hammer to it.

"wow," you breathe. "sora..."

she beams, looking smug. "amazing, right?"

you turn your head to look in the mirror at different angles. the effect is striking, even though you're only looking at your face. "way to ruin my pretty face." you genuinely look like a final girl after crawling out of a burning building.

"oh, please, your face was already ruined." she snatches the mirror away. "and i didn't ruin anything. i improved it."

"yeah, yeah, whatever. you're a genius."

sora stands up, brushing off her legs. "of course i am. i'm gonna go clean up. you wanna watch a movie tonight?"

just then, your stomach growls. very loudly, very rudely, causing you to wince at the sound. "i need food. like now."

sora waves you off. "go. you're ruining my art with your hanger."

you drag yourself off the floor, stretching your back with a quiet groan. "you want anything?"

she shakes her head. "i'm good. i'll be here. don't take too long, or else you'll miss the good part."

you slip on your slides by the door, grab your hoodie from the back of the chair, and pat your pockets for your keys. sora yells something about getting banana milk if it's on sale, but you're already halfway out the door. as soon as you step out of the dorm building, you shove your hands in your pockets, your stomach grumbling. you haven't eaten since this morning, and your appetite has caught up to you. maybe you'll get some dumplings, or some yakgwa, or maybe both.

you hit the elevator button and bounce on your heels a little while you wait. living on the seventh floor sounded like a good idea when you moved in. now it just means longer elevator rides and worse wi-fi. the doors open with a mechanical groan, and you step in alone, tugging your hoodie up over your head.

it's colder than it was this evening. you take the side exit of the building and cut across the back lot. there are always a few plastic bags fluttering around the pavement and leftover delivery boxes stacked by the trash bins. you ignore them. are you a bad person for that? probably. but you have priorities right now, and garbage isn't one of them.

the convenience store's only about a block away, right next to that rundown laundromat with the blinking sign. it's familiar by now—you've been in and out of it a hundred times since moving in. the same bored part-timer is probably behind the counter, barely awake. you push open the door, a chime ringing overhead as you step inside.

the fluorescent lights glow overhead, making your hungry headache worse. you rub your eyes, going straight for the drinks first because it gives you time to think. you reach for a banana milk, then pause, considering strawberry instead. your hand hovers between the two like it's a life-or-death decision.

and that's when someone walks straight into you.

hard.

you stumble a little, head snapping up. "ah—죄송합니다," you say quickly, bowing your head almost out of habit. sorry, an automatic response, a knee-jerk reaction, though you feel more startled than apologetic. you expect the other person to respond, apologize maybe, or brush it off.

they don't.

in fact, she's frozen, almost startled, eyes wide under the shadow of a cap pulled low. you stare at each other for a solid three seconds. for a second, you think maybe she's finally gonna say something when her lips part, but she stays quiet, frozen where they are. maybe you should say something, but you're about 90% sure if you did, it would be a stuttered, useless mess because wow... she's... pretty. like distractingly pretty. clear skin, delicate features, and a beauty mark resting right beneath her bottom lip. and she smells nice. is that weird to notice? you should say something. you should say anything.

she doesn't make a move. doesn't blink or even breathe, like you're an animal, or maybe a ghost, and either way, you're starting to freak out a little, like the panic you feel when a spider scurries up your arm and there's nothing you can do about it. her gaze lingers. her brows pull together a little, and she lifts a hand like she might touch your arm.

"are you okay?" she asks in korean, quiet but immediate.

and then you remember what's on your own face—sora's dramatic special effects makeup. bruises, dried blood, swollen lip. she probably thinks you just crawled here from a street fight.you shake your head lightly. "yeah, yeah. i'm okay. just makeup—my roommate's an sfx student," you explain, gesturing vaguely at your face. "for class."

she pauses, and for a split second, something passes over her face—a shadow of emotion, relief maybe? you don't have time to place it before she relaxes. "sorry, i thought—" she stops abruptly, shaking her head. "i'm glad you're not hurt."

you offer her a reassuring smile, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck. "yeah, no. don't worry. i'm totally fine."

her lips pressed together in a polite, subdued smile. it's an expression you know well—the kind strangers wear to be friendly but reserved. you bow again, smaller this time. "sorry for making you worried," you say once more, polite but calm, and then you step past her.

you make a beeline straight for the snack aisle, gripping your banana milk a little too tight. your face feels hot, and you're pretty sure it's not just the fake bruises baking under the store lights. your heart's doing something stupid and heavy in your chest, and you tell yourself it's just adrenaline or hunger or social anxiety or literally anything other than what it probably is.you reach for the shrimp chips without looking, knock over a bag of seaweed snacks in the process, curse under your breath, fix it, and pretend like none of that happened.

you don't glance back once. you don't want to know if she's looking at you, and you definitely don't want to know if you made a fool of yourself. but god, if you did have the balls to look back, you would've seen her staring at you from the other side of the aisle, lips pressed together, gaze fixed on your retreating figure with her eyes narrowed slightly.

karina doesn't move for a second. still standing in front of the drinks, hand halfway to the handle, but she's not grabbing anything. not thinking about anything she came in for, either. she's just standing there like an idiot, staring at the fridge door, still trying to process what the hell just happened.

it was nothing, right? a girl with makeup on her face and a banana milk in her hand. just a bump, a few words. but something about it's sitting weird in her chest, the way you looked at her dead in the eye and didn't even flinch. not a spark of recognition, not even the usual fake smile people give when they realize who she is and start pretending they're calm. none of that. you looked at her like she was just another person in your way. and maybe that's what caught her off guard first.

which is insane. actually insane. because she should be used to people recognizing her, reacting to her, lighting up at the sight of her. she's not arrogant about it—at least she tries not to be—but she's used to a certain kind of energy when she walks into a room. an extra level of attention. it's been that way since the moment she got scouted.

and now, that energy isn't coming, and she doesn't know what to do about that, only that something's off about the whole situation.

karina finally pulls open the door to the fridge. the cool air hits her face, and she grabs a few bottles. people care what she thinks. all the time. all day. every day. and you... didn't. and now she's standing in a convenience store with a dumb drink in her hand, thinking about a girl with fake bruises and a tired voice and an accent that wobbled just once before you steadied it.

she presses her lips together.

goddamnit. who are you?

and why can't she stop wondering?

⭑𓂃

you don't even want to be here.

well, you know you said you'd think about it, and you had convinced yourself you would, but that's when you were running off of an empty stomach and adrenaline. you've had time to think since then. plenty of it.

the lights are too bright, the room is too loud, and every second that passes reminds you that you're surrounded by people who care way more about this than you do. girls with professionally printed banners and hearts drawn on their cheeks, screaming and bouncing on the balls of their feet like this is christmas morning. you shift uncomfortably in your seat, clutching your hands together like it's a shield, like holding them tighter will keep you from being exposed for the fraud you are—because that's what this feels like, right? like you're a fake. like you stole a seat from someone who would've cried over this moment. the guilt doesn't help your nerves, and sora keeps poking you in the ribs every time you start to slouch, like she's determined to make you look alive.

"so," sora whispers, leaning closer, her voice nearly drowned out by the screams around you. "are you glad you came?"

"i'm not here for them," you mumble, and she elbows you hard enough to make you wince. you rub your side with a scowl, glaring at her, but she ignores your pout.

she rolls her eyes. "don't be like that."

"like what? i'm not here for them. i'm here to make livi happy and be the world's best big sister, i am."

sora snorts. "uh-huh."

"what?"

she shrugs. "nothing."

you squint at her suspiciously. "what are you getting at?"

"nothing! i just think you're a big softie."

"i'm not a softie," you insist.

"yeah, you are. a big one."

"i'm not!"

sora nudges you with her shoulder. "you so are."

you groan. "sora..."

she waves you off, grinning. "whatever. don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

you roll your eyes, but you can't help the small smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth.

when the girls finally walk out, it feels surreal—not because you're starstruck, but because the noise in the room swells like a wave that knocks the breath out of you. you lift your phone instinctively, hitting record just to give livi something to scream about, even though your hand's already cramping from how tightly you're gripping it. you vaguely register their faces as they take their seats—winter, giselle, ningning, and karina. the names come to you from livi's constant fangirling, not from memory, and you're already dropping your jaw when you put two and two together.

wait...

you blink once.

twice.

you suck in a breath, eyes going wide as your brain scrambles to dig through a memory—no, not a memory, a moment. that night. the convenience store. the hoodie, the sweats, the cap pulled low. the girl who smelled like she walked straight out of a designer bottle. the one who reached for your face.

the one with the beauty mark under her lip.

your jaw drops slightly.

"no fucking way..." you whisper.

you slap your palm over your face, dragging it down like you're trying to scrub the thought out of your skull. you groan. quiet, but guttural. it truly sounds like something between a laugh and a breakdown.

you've been walking around thinking about that convenience store girl like she was some random, mysterious stranger with model energy and main character lighting—and it was karina. karina, karina. the idol your sister has been obsessed with since quarantine. the one whose face is on mugs, albums, and at least three posters in your sister's bedroom.

"oh my god," you mutter, sinking lower in your seat.

sora glances over. "what?"

you keep your hand over your face. "nothing."

she snorts. "you're being weird."

"i'm having an episode."

"well, can you finish your episode later?" she says under her breath.

you shoot her a glare from between your fingers. she flashes you a smile and pats your shoulder. "don't be so dramatic."

you scoff. "coming from you? that's rich."

she elbows you hard enough to make you yelp. that's like...the sixth time today. it's a new record, honestly.

you're still halfway through mentally spiraling when the staff starts calling people up by number, one by one, leading them to the table like lambs to the slaughter or, well, in this case, squealing fans to their idols. the energy in the room is weirdly reverent, like everyone's holding their breath all at once. sora leans into you again, jabbing your thigh with two fingers. "that's you. get your ass up."

you stand when your number is called, following the usher toward the table. a few staff remind you not to take photos up close, to move along once you're done, and to keep personal gifts boxed. you nod along, barely processing.

the first member is ningning.

she greets you with a smile so bright you almost forget to breathe. she's warm and playful, complimenting your smile while scribbling something down in the album. you manage to mutter out a thank-you and try not to sound like a robot. her smile widens. she winks, and you almost trip over yourself as you hurry to the next member.

giselle's next. she takes one look at your name tag and switches to english like it's second nature. "where are you from?" she asks, sharp-eyed and grinning like she already knows. you tell her. she nods, thoughtful, and then—without warning—goes, "cute accent." your jaw ticks. you don't know how to respond to that, so you do what you do best: ignore the compliment entirely and look down at the table. she finishes her signature and hands your album back with a sly smile and a pat on your hand, like she's in on some joke. you are not in on it.

winter is... sweet. scarily so.

she greets you with the kind of warmth that makes you feel like you're doing something wrong just by being indifferent. her voice is gentle, her tone light, and when she hands your album back, she wishes you luck in school. you blink at her, taken off guard. she's the only one who didn't flirt. for that, you're almost grateful.

then you move to the last chair.

karina.

she looks up when you approach. her eyes land on yours, and her head tilts a little to one side, just for a second. her lips pull down in a slight frown. recognition? or are you just overthinking things? her face smooths into a polite smile. "hi," she says.

you blink. "hey."

she reaches for your album, already pulling the cap off her pen, but you hold it out just a little longer. "do you mind writing something sweet for my sister? she's the one who dragged me here. well, not literally. she's overseas. i'm just the proxy." you smile. it feels weird. too friendly. like you're showing teeth when you don't need to.

that gets a little smile out of her. it's shy, like she's trying to hide it, but it's there. "what's her name?"

"livi. l-i-v-i."

"is she younger?"

"mhm."

karina nods and turns to your album. as soon as the pen hits the paper, you read every word as soon as it's put down because you're curious, sue you. it's a pretty basic message: dear livi, thank you for always supporting us. please continue to do well. she draws a little heart at the end. then she pauses for a moment, tapping the pen against the album, and her smile takes a different shape. smaller, sly, almost amused.

she adds one more thing.

i'll see you soon. :)

she hands your album back, and when your eyes meet, hers flash with something almost daring, almost too smug, too self-assured.

it's almost challenging.

"you came just for her?"

you nod." she begged. i said no like ten times, but... "you shrug. "i caved."

there's a soft laugh under her breath. "she must be important to you."

you pause, then nod again. "she is."

karina hums. "are you visiting korea, then?"

"no. i'm studying here."

her head tilts just slightly. "oh? what major?"

"fine arts. acting." you say before you can overthink it. "or trying to, at least."

"really?" her eyebrows rise. "have you been here long?"

"two years. going onto my third."

"ah. how do you like it so far?"

"kinda hectic. but mostly okay," you say, then add, "the food's good."

"well, yeah." she chuckles. "that's a given."

"right."

a small silence falls. you shuffle, trying not to make the awkwardness too obvious, and she does the same, tugging lightly at the collar of her shirt. is this going to go on much longer? you should probably wrap things up and bow or something and run the hell away before the fans behind you start glaring.

but before you can, karina speaks again. "have we met before?"

you could lie. say no and move on. literally anything, really.

she pauses again, still watching you like she's waiting for something to click into place. then she leans in slightly, her voice low enough to stay between just the two of you.

"...we did meet."

you blink, already halfway stepping back. "what?"

karina's smile turns quiet, the corners of her lips twitching like she's trying not to grin too much. "the convenience store. you were staring at banana milk... and you had the sfx makeup." your stomach drops straight to your shoes. you blink once, twice, then press your lips together, a sheepish huff escaping.

"heh. yeah." you rub the back of your neck. "didn't think you'd... remember that."

"i do," she says, gently amused. "you looked scared of me."

"i thought i got in your way."

"you did."

you glance up. her eyes are warm and playful, nowhere near mean. you laugh under your breath. "sorry about that," you say.

and you mean it.

before she can respond, a staff member gently clears their throat behind you.

karina glances past your shoulder, her expression shifting slightly. you both hear the subtle shuffle of the line moving. you know this is your cue to go.

the moment's about to snap.

karina leans back, her hand still hovering over your album, and quietly asks, "one sec?" it's not really a request. not really to you, but it is to the staff.

they hesitate. just for a breath.

but then someone from the team murmurs, "we have to keep the line moving."

karina's lips pout out. she wants to argue. but she doesn't. she knows better. you do too.

she turns back to you, softer now. "sorry."

you shake your head. "no, no—thanks again."

you head back to your seat with your album and furrowed eyebrows basically imprinted on your face. sora grabs your wrist before you sit, tugging you down beside her.

"why do you look constipated?"

you shake your head, still a little dazed.

"don't. just don't."

she leans in, voice low. "what'd she say to you?"

you don't answer right away. you're too busy watching karina from across the room. she's smiling again, but not in your direction—someone's waving a sign with her name on it, and she's bowing politely. like nothing happened. like your conversation was just another minute in her day.

maybe it was.

maybe you're just an idiot.

"nothing," you say finally, settling back in your chair. "she was nice."

sora rolls her eyes. "yeah. they're all nice."

you bite your lip. "...so what'd they say to you?"

she snorts. "ning called me cute."

"seriously?"

"mm-hmm. you think i'm lying? she actually wrote, 'you're very pretty.' do you see the heart? look."

she shoves the album in your face. there is, indeed, a heart drawn. you roll your eyes. "see," she continues, tapping the page, "it's not that hard."

"whatever."

the event isn't over—not even close. the mc comes out next, mic in hand, and starts hyping the crowd for some q&a. you try your best to look attentive, but your thoughts are stuck in rewind. playing that one-minute exchange with karina back and forth in your head like a cassette tape with a jammed eject button.

you try not to look at her.

fail.

she laughs at something winter says. you glance away.

"god," you mumble, rubbing the back of your neck. you knew how people felt about idols and fans—even sora was starting to ramble about how sweet karina was, how cool giselle's hair was, and how winter had such a charming voice—but the thing is, you didn't really see the appeal. like, yes, sure, she's a celebrity and beautiful and talented, but she was just a person. and honestly, you were perfectly okay with forgetting all about your stupid little encounter and maybe chalking the whole thing up to a weird dream.

except that you didn't.

you can't.

the girls are in their element now. there's a casualness to them up here that wasn't present during the signing. ningning's cracking jokes, winter keeps mouthing things to giselle off-mic, and karina's practically sitting on the edge of her seat, ready to answer whatever the heck gets thrown at her.

but every now and then, her gaze flicks up.

you're not sure if she's looking at you. you kind of hope she's not.

the q&a moves on to little games—charades, a drawing contest, and impersonations. it's fun, or it would be, if not for the fact that you feel like an impostor. livi would've loved to be here. she'd be front row, center, with her arms in the air, waving her banner around and screaming along to the music.

she would've fit right in.

"are you bored?" sora asks, nudging your foot under the table.

you tear your gaze away from the stage, trying not to feel guilty. you probably look like you're scowling, though, because sora frowns, tilting her head.

"everything okay?"

you nod a little too quickly. "yeah."

sora bites the inside of her cheek, and you can already tell she's fighting the urge to call you on your bullshit, so you flash her a grin, leaning your head on her shoulder and making a show of closing your eyes.

"wish i could teleport livi into my shoes."

that makes her laugh. "that'd be cute. she'd probably cry, huh?"

"big tears," you agree, playing it up and mimicking a dramatic sob. she rolls her eyes, shoving you off, but the concern has eased a little.

"idiot," she mutters.

"love you too," you sing.

eventually, the event winds down. the girls say their final messages, all filtered through smiles and gratitude and well-rehearsed goodbyes. everyone claps. you do too, mechanically.sora slaps your leg. "you survived."

"barely."

she grins and tugs her jacket on. "let's go. i'm starving."

you're just about to step through the main exit when someone calls out behind you.

"excuse me—miss?"

you both turn.

a staff member walks over briskly, holding something small and plain in one hand. an envelope. white. sealed.

you frown.

"this was left for you," they say, discreetly. "from karina-ssi."

sora makes a sound that is almost definitely a gasp, but you barely hear it through the rush in your ears.

"oh—thank you," you say, your voice more composed than you feel. your fingers close around the envelope carefully, like it might vanish.

the staff member nods once, then disappears back into the crowd.sora is staring. hard.

she blinks, her mouth falling open, but before she can get the words out, you beat her to the punch.

"i know, okay," you hiss.

she shuts her mouth. then she grins.

"huh. maybe this wasn't so bad, was it?"

you roll your eyes and walk outside.

⭑𓂃

karina has never had trouble with words.

they come easy. she can smile, can dance, and can hold a room with the click of a pen or the wave of a hand. she can say what people want to hear. make the right noise at the right moment.

she doesn't remember being shy or nervous, either. that was the first thing they beat out of her in training. if you're shy, no one will pay attention to you.

no one will remember you.

so no. karina is not shy, and she does not stumble.

or, well, she usually doesn't.

you make her stumble.

not visibly. she doesn't think. she's trained too long and hard to let something like that slip through. but in her head? in her brain, there's a little voice, the size of a seed, that tells her she should have said more. asked another question, maybe, or told you to have a nice night, or just waved. something. anything.

anything more than the polite goodbye that felt too cold, even by her standards.

karina doesn't have many regrets, and she's never second-guessed herself before, not like this, but it's too late now. karina doesn't realize she's zoning out until the van takes a bump a little too hard and her knee hits the seat in front of her.

"still thinking about her?" winter asks from the other side, her voice casual and bored-sounding but definitely not not nosy.

karina's slow to respond. "no."

"liar."

karina exhales through her nose and leans her head back against the seat. "not like that." winter scrolls on her phone, not even looking at her. "like what, then?"

she doesn't answer right away. it's not like she's been dwelling on it—she's just tired. her back's sore from sitting at the table too long, her hand's cramping from all the autographs, and her face still feels tight from hours of smiling.

but none of those reasons feel right, either, so instead, karina goes with the only thing that comes close to an excuse:

"she was different," karina says, and she hates that she sounds cliché even to herself.

winter hums." how so, exactly?

she glances over, meeting her gaze, and winter is giving her that knowing look. like she gets it, which she might, if karina has read the signals correctly, so karina chooses her next words carefully.

"we met before," she says. "in a convenience store, by accident. she didn't recognize me."

winter's brows lift.

"seriously?"

"yes," she replies, rubbing the bridge of her nose, already feeling a headache coming. "i was going to ignore it, but then i saw her at the fan sign, and she told me she was only there for her sister. she didn't care about any of us—but like in a good way!" karina pauses. shakes her head. this is ridiculous.

she laughs, though it's soft and a little self-deprecating.

"she was polite. distant."

and sweet. and cute, and a little bit awkward.

and... a lot of things karina isn't supposed to notice about a fan.

"hm. is that a good or bad thing?"

karina hesitates, glancing over. "it's... noteworthy."

winter doesn't move, doesn't blink, and for a second, karina's worried she's going to laugh, or worse, tease her, and honestly, karina isn't sure she'd have a witty response to any of that. but winter doesn't do any of that. she just says,

"that's rare."

then she looks back at her phone, tapping her screen casually, as if she didn't just throw the world's best non-judgmental shade.

the silence is back. it feels heavy now.

"are you upset?"

"no, no," she says quickly. "it's interesting. not the same. kinda nice."

karina leans back against the seat, closing her eyes and rubbing her temple. it is nice. even if it's strange and unexpected. it's nice not being recognized, being looked at like she's an actual human, not a fantasy, not an object.

but it also means that, unlike with most people, karina can't be charming or confident. she can't rely on the usual script, the flirty smiles, or teasing remarks.

which means that her usual repertoire isn't going to work, not unless she can find the right words, the right place, and the right moment.

which is a problem.

a big one.

"what are you gonna do about it?"

"i have no idea."

⭑𓂃

by the time you get back to your apartment, the sun has almost gone down. the sky is streaked orange and pink, and the wind has a bite.

you push open the door, groaning quietly as you kick off your shoes and step inside. your shoulders sag a little. the couch has never looked better.

sora tosses her purse on the counter, stretching her arms up high enough to crack her spine. then she glances over, holding out her palm.

"so. you gonna give it to me, or...?"

you raise an eyebrow. "give what?"

she scoffs. "don't play dumb. hand it over. let me see."

your cheeks go warm. "sora—"

"oh my god, are you actually embarrassed? i'm not livi. this doesn't count. give. me."

"sora!"

she makes a grabby motion, reaching for it, but you dance around the kitchen island, clutching the envelope against your chest.

"seriously?"

"what are we, five?"

sora rolls her eyes. "as if you weren't dying to read it yourself."

"fine. maybe i am. happy?"

"ecstatic." she leans her elbows against the counter, propping her chin on her hand. "what'd you two even talk about? did you hit it off?"

you roll your eyes.

"you are reading too much into this," you tell her. "all i did was say hi. i barely said anything."

"so what?" sora waves a hand. "if karina wants to write a love letter, then that's her prerogative. all you have to do is read it. i mean, technically, you could just toss the whole thing if you're really not interested, but i'd think that would be pretty shitty of you. even i wouldn't do that."you press your lips together, trying not to smile, and she points a finger.

"don't you dare."

"i didn't say anything," you say.

"mh-hmm. whatever."

"you're the one who's obsessed."

"am not."

"sure. just a teeny-weeny little bit?" you pinch your thumb and forefinger. "just a tad?"

"nope."

"not a smidgeon?"

"zip."

you roll your eyes. she reaches across the counter and lightly swats the envelope from your grip, tugging it close and peeling it open with a careful touch.

you stare.

she raises an eyebrow. "i thought you didn't care to see it."

you don't answer.

her grin widens, smug, as she pulls two crisp matte black concert tickets from the envelope, along with two backstage passes and a signed postcard.

you freeze.

sora freezes, too.

"wait," she says slowly. "wait, wait—what the fuck?"

you say nothing because your brain? it's currently short-circuiting. you're still standing in the kitchen, still watching her fingers slide over the glossy pass, still trying to comprehend the words printed across the top in clean gold lettering: backstage access—seoul dome—vip entry.

sora flips the tickets over.

her jaw drops. "she signed this. she actually signed this. like, with a message. like—like for you."

you finally find your voice. "it's not for me."

"you know what i mean!" she squints at the neat handwriting. "it literally says, 'livi, please continue to support us!' i hope to see you there. love, karina. she even drew a heart. and look—she added something else."

you step closer, looking over her shoulder.

at the bottom of the card, in a smaller, slightly different pen stroke, almost like it was added at the last second, it reads:

"p.s. tell your sister thanks again. :) see you soon."

your breath catches.

you pull your phone out of your back pocket and tap on livi's contact before you can think twice.she picks up on the second ring. "finally! how was it? was it cool? were they nice? tell me everything right now—"

"i got you something," you interrupt.

livi's voice goes up an octave. "you did?! what is it??"

you glance at sora, who's now laying all the stuff out on the kitchen table like she's cataloguing evidence for a trial. "uh," you say. "just... stay calm, okay?"

"no promises."

"okay." you angle the camera and hold up the album first. "she signed it. for you. it's all here."livi shrieks.

you wince and hold the phone away from your ear as she screams, laughs, and screams again."are you serious?! like, actually? oh my god!" she gasps, then falls dramatically silent. "did she—did she say anything about me?!"

you hesitate. then sigh. "yeah."

"oh my god—what did she say?!"

"she asked your name. said, you must be important to me."

"so she knows i exist now? i’m gonna start bawling.”

sora mimes gagging, but you ignore her.

you shuffle awkwardly, phone still held loosely in your right hand. "and, uh... she gave me something else. i think—well, here."

you turn the camera around again, showing her the tickets.

livi is quiet. for once.

"no."

you say nothing.

"no way."

still nothing.

"those aren't backstage passes—"

you nod.

livi screams again, this time so loud that sora jumps and grabs a couch pillow like she's being attacked. "okay, okay!" you laugh. "keep your voice down!"

"are you joking?! are you messing with me right now?!"

"nope. they're real."

"holy shit."

sora tilts her head. "wait, are you even allowed to say 'shit' in front of your sister?"

"she's said worse," you mutter.

livi is still spiraling. "oh my god, oh my god. this is insane. i'm flying over there tonight. i don't care what mom says. you have to take me."

"i will," you say, softer this time. "i promise."

"i think i'm gonna cry," livi sniffles. "like... actually."

"don't, or i might."

sora fake cries from the kitchen, "oh my god, they're bonding!"

you laugh. for real this time.

and maybe—for the first time since stepping into that building—you're kind of glad you went. even if you're still not totally sure what this means.

or what karina wants.

but one thing's for sure.

you owe her big time.

⭑𓂃

livi basically begged you to call your dad as soon as possible, so that's what you did. you told him the good news, and he sounded skeptical at first—you couldn't blame him. between your work schedule and whatever classes you were still pretending to keep up with, the timing felt impossible. but somehow, after a few calls back and forth, a lot of sighing, and livi begging in the background, it all fell into place. he agreed to book her flight, and you promised to take a couple of days off and be responsible for everything else: pickup, food, and getting her back to the airport in one piece.

so tuesday morning you're standing just past the arrival gate, shoulders hunched into your hoodie, hood up, earbuds in, and holding a white piece of printer paper with one word scrawled in sharpie:

"livi 😎"

the smiley face has sunglasses. sora drew it before she left for her group project meeting, claiming it would make you stand out better. which it does, you guess. or at least you hope it does. the last thing you need is to be the reason your sister to get lost in korea.

you check the arrival board for the fifth time.

still on time.

you try not to look awkward, but you definitely do. at least, you feel like it. there are too many people here. you keep accidentally making eye contact with strangers every three seconds. you tug at your sleeves and bounce a little, rocking back on your heels.

it's been months since you last saw your sister. video calls don't count. you've sent her photos, shown her your place, and told her stories—but nothing really captures it. and for the first time since moving here, you kind of want someone to see it. to see you.

to understand what it's been like.

the doors slide open.

you spot her instantly.

her hair's longer. she's wearing your old hoodie—one that went missing two years ago—and the matching bracelet you made each other back in your senior year of high school. it was just a thin, black rope and a single charm each. hers had a tiny sunflower, yours a plain silver heart. you didn't wear yours often anymore, but you started again the day her flight was confirmed. she texted you three times just to say she was packing hers, like you'd forget.

livi begins squinting around like she's forgotten how to navigate earth, dragging a suitcase that looks heavier than her entire body.

you wave the stupid sign.

her eyes lock onto yours, and—

"oh my god!"

she bolts.

she doesn't run gracefully. it's more like a charged stampede, her bag bouncing wildly behind her. a few people jump out of the way. you're barely able to brace yourself before she's crashing into you full-force, arms flung around your neck, knocking your hood off in the process.you stumble backward, catching yourself at the last second.

your sister hugs you like she hasn't seen you in years. she squeezes you tight, sobbing and laughing at the same time, and her bony fingers are digging into your skin. you wheeze.

"jesus."

"missed you," livi mumbles into your shirt, then adds, "you're super thin. how'd that happen?"

"you're crushing me," you hiss.

"not my fault you're bony," she says, and finally lets go. her face is blotchy. her eyeliner is smeared. but she's beaming.

you laugh softly and reach out. you pinch her cheeks. hard. she yelps.

"stop!"

"what's with the ugly crying?" you tease, then reach for her suitcase. she's about to protest, but you lift it without breaking a sweat, and she's too flustered to stop you.

"i'm not ugly-crying!" she snaps.

"mh-hm."

"shut up," she huffs. "i missed you. can't a girl be excited?"

"of course," you say, then pull her to your side, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "glad you're here, nerd."

when you arrive home, it's obvious the apartment has been scrubbed clean. the windows are cracked open a little, letting in some late afternoon breeze, and the scent of your air freshener lingers in the living room, probably courtesy of sora. it smells like cinnamon and apples and that weird fake fresh snow smell from your christmas candle.

livi drops her bag at the entrance and toe-kicks off her sneakers like she owns the place."nice," she says, turning in a slow circle. "way better than i thought it'd be."

you grin, tossing your keys onto the counter. "yeah, well. i try."

she beelines straight for your fridge. "do you have banana milk?"

"no."

"liar. you told me you drink one every morning before class."

you sigh and point to the bottom shelf. she lets out a dramatic gasp and pulls out a bottle like she's found treasure.

"god, i love this country," she says reverently.

you snort and flop down on the couch while she explores like a toddler in a new daycare. her suitcase is still by the door, but she's already asking a hundred questions per second. how's the concert venue? is karina as tall as she looks? what's she like in real life? are you nervous?

you groan and bury your face in a pillow.

you end up spending most of the day in a comfortable blur.

first stop is food. livi insists on trying "real" korean corn dogs after seeing them on tiktok, and the two of you spend nearly twenty minutes walking through hongdae while she argues with google maps and you try not to laugh. when you finally find the stand, she squeals and orders three different kinds. she eats all of them. you're both sticky-fingered and full by the time you find a bench, your drink lids popping slightly from the heat.

afterward, she wants to hit a few stores. she tries on bucket hats and oversized sweaters, makes you take pictures of her outside a claw machine arcade, and demands to stop at every convenience store you pass so she can compare prices. at one point, she spots a photobooth and insists you go in with her. the two of you cram into the booth, shoulders pressed together, and she picks the most chaotic frame options possible: sparkles, bunny ears, and flowers. she presses her cheek against yours. your lips pull into a grimace, but when the camera flashes, you both crack up.

you spend the rest of the day walking and talking. about her school and her friends back home. about how mom secretly asks about you, but won't admit it out loud, and about how dad keeps checking the weather in korea as if it's going to affect him as much as it does you. your eyes widen a fraction at that, but she waves a hand like she didn't just drop a bomb and tells you that he misses you and loves you, and yeah, he can be an asshole sometimes, but he's working on it.

that's all she has to say.

that's all you need.

that night, you fall asleep to the sound of her brushing her teeth in the next room, the soft clink of a glass being set down on the counter. you wake once to her phone buzzing and hear her whispering something to a friend back home, giggling into her blanket.

and then, morning.

bright and early, jittery with energy.

because it's today.

the concert.

your apartment is quiet again, save for the soft shuffle of livi getting ready. the concert's not until later, but she's already dressed in her best outfit, hair curled at the ends, bracelets stacked halfway up both wrists. she keeps checking her bag like she's afraid she'll forget something important—like she's going to prom, not a concert.

you yawn and pour a cup of coffee.

it takes livi five attempts and two threats of bodily harm to get her mascara done, and she nearly cries when she realizes it's not as perfect as she'd like, but you tell her it's fine and that the people who know her best won't even notice. she flips you off, and the moment she's ready, you grab your keys and wallet and make a run for the front door.

on the way there, livi goes on and on about the things she's heard: the choreo, the lights, the backup dancers, and the songs.

you're half-listening. mostly because it's a nice distraction, but also because livi is an encyclopedia of everything idol-related and will not shut up about it. you let her go and only offer small affirmative responses every few seconds because, hey, at least you're trying, right?

when you arrive at the venue, the soundcheck crowd is already being organized. fans flash wristbands and check phones, some in excited clusters, others quietly holding signs. livi bounces in line, practically vibrating. you smile and pretend not to be worried.

your seats for the concert and soundcheck aren't in the nosebleeds. you're not even in the regular pit. you're seated in a roped-off area with maybe thirty or forty people around you, close enough to see the mic tape on the stage floor and the way the lights bounce off the girls' in-ear monitors. livi is practically bouncing in her seat, whisper-shouting every few seconds.

"i can't believe i'm here."

"mh-hm."

she gives you an irritated look, and you just pat her on the knee, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

you barely have time to think before they're casually stepping onto the stage in sweats and oversized shirts, waving at the crowd with practiced, easy grins. livi clutches your arm the second she spots them. "oh my god."

they greet everyone and then settle into place, testing microphones and checking mics, and winter's already laughing into her mic. ningning steps forward first. giselle follows, waving toward the middle row, bouncing on her heels. karina lingers behind them, grinning politely and waving like an idol is supposed to, and livi gasps quietly, her fingers squeezing tighter.

"언니, 그 마이크 너무 커!" ningning says, pulling her in-ear halfway out and wincing exaggeratedly.

"무서웠어, 진짜," winter laughs, nodding in agreement.

livi leans in toward you immediately. "what did she say?"

you smile," ningning said the mic's too loud. winter said it scared her."

"ahhh!" livi coos. "god, they're adorable."

onstage, the girls are still warming up. they hum a few notes, take sips from matching tumblers, and trade off small comments. a few fans in front yell compliments—your hearing isn't good enough to catch everything, but you hear someone call winter "pretty like a doll," and someone else ask karina what she ate today.

"아침에... 음... 계란후라이? 아, 그리고 토스트." karina answers lightly, half-laughing as she speaks.

livi tugs your sleeve again. "what'd she say?"

"she said she had eggs and toast."

livi smiles a little, almost to herself.

the actual concert is something else entirely. soundcheck was nothing compared to the main event, the flashing lights, the booming music, and the bass making your entire chest hum. you've never seen livi this hyped before. she dances next to you before the next song even starts, bouncing on her toes and shouting lyrics back at the girls, and her grin is so bright you swear the entire room might just shine brighter than the spotlights.

it's wild, how quickly you get swept up in it too. you don't know every word, but livi does—belting them out, her voice cracking in parts, eyes wide with something close to awe. you feel it too, the way the girls command the stage, the way the beat fills you up and makes you feel alive. you can see why the fans love this, why the energy is addicting.

after the last note plays and the girls bow and the crowd screams and screams and screams, the girls make their final bows and slip offstage.

you feel a tug in your chest.

that was fast.

"i can't believe i did this," livi whispers as soon as the crowd begins to clear. "we have backstage passes. oh my god."

you shake your head a little. "breathe, nerd."

"i can't."

"well, try," you tell her, bumping her shoulder gently. she looks so nervous that you want to reach out and hug her again. instead, you ruffle her hair and add, "let's go, huh? you'll be fine. they'll love you."

and, well, they do.

livi's basically bouncing on her toes as the members ask her questions—where does she live? how long has she been a fan? what's her favorite song? and so on, and so on.she's starstruck, and you're honestly not much better, but the girls are all nice. ningning pulls livi into a quick hug after talking about her favorite food, and winter keeps grinning to herself, mumbling how cute she is. livi can barely speak. you swear her legs are gonna give out.

you're a bit out of the way of the group, watching happily, when someone approaches you.

"hi."

you turn.

karina grins, the same one from the fan sign, only less stiff and a lot more real. there's a dimple in her cheek that i didn't notice before.

"did you enjoy the show?" her voice was soft and slightly raspy from the show.

you smile, nodding. "yeah, thank you again for this. seriously. you didn't have to, and, uh... thanks for being nice to livi and everything. it meant a lot to her. it meant a lot to me too. this was probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for her. for me."

you're rambling, but she listens the whole time.

"it was a pleasure. your sister's sweet."

"she really is," you reply. then you add, "so were you. back at the fan meet, and, you know..." karina gives you a look that could almost be considered shy.

"it was nothing."

"was not." you stare at her for a moment before you remember the item you brought from home. you rummage around in your jacket pocket. she's looking at you a bit curiously, then tilts her head, smiling.

"here," you say, and holding out the custom-made bracelet, you had made it an hour before you left for the airport to get livi. of course you didn't tell anyone you made said bracelet because they would tease you to no end.

"you gave us tickets," you add quietly, "and i know it wasn't a lot or anything, but i made something, and, uh, yeah. livi and i have similar ones. so, um..."

you stop yourself. you're definitely blushing. you can't tell, though.

her eyes widen a fraction. she looks like she wants to speak, but you keep going."s-sorry. i didn't mean to ramble—"

"no! no. it's okay. thank you."

there's a beat.

karina bites her lip.

"can you put it on for me?"

"what? oh, right—yeah." karina gently offers you her wrist, a stupid grin on her face as if she was waiting to see you squirm.

you swallow and open the bracelet, brushing your thumb over her skin as you fasten the clasp. she doesn't look away, nor does she joke or even move.

when you finish, she glances down at it. then up at you.

"cute," she murmurs.

you stare.

and there it is.

that fucking grin.

it takes a second to sink in, but when it does, you immediately pull your hand back.

she laughs.

it's the first genuine, unfiltered laugh you've heard. not the idol laugh or the polite, pr kind, but the kind that makes her eyes crinkle and her nose scrunch up a little and her lips tilt at the corners and her shoulders shake.

you blink, surprised.

she covers her mouth with her hand.

"sorry, sorry. that was—mean."

you shake your head.

she exhales slowly, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "anyway, sorry. uh—thank you. for this." she gestures at the bracelet.

"of course," you reply. "it was nothing, really."

"don't lie to me. you were clearly embarrassed," she teases.

"okay. a little," you admit, and her eyes twinkle a little.

"that's okay."

you hum and stuff your hands back into your pockets, trying not to fidget, and karina's gaze flickers past you for a split second. you glance back and follow her line of sight.

livi's talking animatedly, still bouncing on her toes and looking like she's trying not to cry. ningning's got a protective arm around her shoulder.

karina clears her throat, and you glance back.

she's biting the inside of her cheek.

"you're a good sibling."

you look at her, and for a second, you want to say something more. something about how surreal this is. how strange it feels to be known, even just a little bit, by someone like her.but then a staff member gently taps her shoulder.

time's almost up.

karina gives you one last look—something thoughtful, maybe even reluctant—then leans back with a soft smile.

"i'm glad you came."

⭑𓂃

you know when people say, "last night was a movie!" or "last night felt like a dream!" well, your night felt like a fever dream, and you almost forgot it happened, but the universe had an odd way of reminding you of things.

you woke up late, half-dead, and starving. your brain was screaming, breakfast!. so, being half-awake, slouched at the kitchen counter in yesterday's hoodie, staring at nothing in particular, and the only thing keeping you up being the bowl of cereal in your hand, was the highlight of the morning.

jae's sitting cross-legged on the couch, scrolling on his phone, while sora's curled up next to him with a blanket over her shoulders. livi's perched on the armrest beside them, editing photos from the night before. every few seconds, she lets out a little laugh or gasps like she just remembered something, and she shoves her phone toward sora, who coos over the blurry selfies and half-lit stage shots like they're priceless artifacts.

"you caught ningning in 4k," sora mutters, zooming in on one particularly chaotic group pic. "how is this not already posted?"

"i'm curating the dump," livi says seriously. "you can't just drop everything at once. there's an art to this. i posted about seven photos yesterday and tagged them over a million times. that should give me at least a week before i have to post again so that i can hype up the next one without losing followers, or—are you guys even listening to me, or is this another lecture session?"

"both," jae and sora say simultaneously.

you weren't really listening either. you were running on four hours of sleep and a heavy post-concert haze. the adrenaline wore off around 2 a.m., but your brain hasn't shut up since.

your phone buzzes on the counter. you glance down out of habit, ready to ignore whatever it is, but then your hand freezes.

a notification from instagram. (which is an app you barely use.) that should've been the first sign.

katarinabluu: hey. it's me lol

you blink.and then you blink again, harder this time, like maybe your brain's filling in the blank with delusions. you lean closer, squinting a little.

no.

not delusions.

you rub your eyes.

same thing.

"yo." jae's voice cuts through the silence. "you good?"

your spoon clinks again. you haven't moved. you're staring at your phone like it just started levitating.

"what's wrong?" sora sits up slightly. "you look like you saw a ghost."

livi squints from her spot. "did someone die?"

you lift your gaze slowly, like you're still not sure if this is real.

"...karina just texted me."

dead silence.

jae leans forward. "karina, like—karina karina? aespa? karina-unnie-who-gave-you-backstage-access-to-their-show-and-probably-also-had-a-crush-on-you-unnie?"

you glare.

"yes. that one.

"livi's eyes go wide. "no. no way. you're lying."

"i'm not lying," you mutter, showing them the phone. sora's the first one up, snatching the phone. she reads the message, reads it again, and then slaps a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. her eyes are huge.

"what did you say to her last night?"

"i—nothing! i just gave her the bracelet and said, thanks!"

"bro, you did what?" jae is suddenly up, grabbing your phone right out of sora's hand, and now all three of them are staring at your screen.

ivi furrows her eyebrows. "why didn't you tell me you made her a bracelet???!"

you flush.

"i don't know."

"when did you have time?!"

"she gave us backstage passes. i just wanted to thank her or something."

jae grins. he has a gleam in his eyes. you don't trust that. "you made her a custom bracelet."

"yes. i just said that.

"on your own time."

"so what?" you snap. "that's normal! lots of people make customized stuff! it was just a simple black rope and a metal plate. no big deal."

jae and sora share a look, grinning like the little demons they are. "sounds romantic."

"very," jae adds.

you scoff. "okay. this isn't happening. can someone get ahold of themselves and explain to me how and why does karina know my instagram?"

ivi rolls her eyes and grabs the phone for herself now. "were you listening to anything i was saying? i tagged you! in my dump!"

you thin out your lips. "remind me?"

livi groans. "seriously? fine, whatever, look!" she flips the phone around and holds up a photo. you take a second, recognizing the stage and the lights. the caption:

thank you @yn for being the best big sister in the entire world!!! thanks, aespa, for everything. ♡'

underneath the photo, a handful of likes, mostly from aespa's fan accounts. a few comments, most of which are variations of 'she's cute' or 'im jealous.'

then a reply, also from a fan account.'omg, is this the big sister that karina was talking about on bubble?!'

"what the hell is a bubble?"

livi looks at you, then back at the comment, "she mentioned you on bubble?" then she begins freaking out herself.

"I'M JUST NOW HEARING ABOUT THIS?????"

"livi!!!"

"oh! right. here!" livi's already clicking into the app, and the rest of the group piles around her shoulder as soon as she does. "it's like instagram but for idols. they talk about stuff or answer questions from fans, and they have, like, their own private chats that fans can see. everyone knows that. did you even go online after we got home?"

you say nothing, because, no.

of course you didn't.

⭑𓂃

karina didn't expect to think about you again.

not this much, at least.she thought maybe she'd remember the bracelet for a day or two, maybe scroll past a photo of you and your sister and smile, but she didn't expect to be here—half-listening to her manager run through the rest of the day's schedule while she absentmindedly rubs her thumb over the place where the bracelet sits on her wrist.

"jimin," her manager calls.

she blinks. "yeah?"

"the stylist's waiting. ten minutes."

"got it."

she slips her phone into the pocket of her hoodie and follows behind, sunglasses on, face bare, hair tied back lazily because glam isn't for another hour. her body's moving through the motions, greeting staff, bowing politely, letting herself get ushered from room to room—but her mind's stuck somewhere else. that backstage hallway. your voice. your eyes. the way you said thank you without sounding like you wanted anything.

and the way her heart fluttered in that completely inconvenient, undeniable way when your fingers brushed her skin to clip the bracelet on.

she shakes it off. focus.

the schedule stretches. interviews. rehearsals. some brief chaos over a missing shoe. she changes outfits three times. there's a moment where giselle spills green tea on a white couch and no one breathes for ten seconds.

by the time they finally get a break, karina's sitting on the floor of a small waiting room, legs stretched out, makeup still fresh, staring at her phone. she told herself she wouldn't check. that she'd give it a day. maybe two.

but now it's been over 12 hours.

maybe she's asleep, she thinks.

or you didn't see it. or maybe you didn't know it was her. okay...that one was a little less believable.

she pulls up your chat anyway. just to see.

the message is still there. just a simple:

hey. it's me lol

and underneath it—

seen.

10:17 am.

her stomach sinks a little.

oh.

she doesn't know why that hits the way it does. she's not embarrassed, exactly. just... unsure. her ego doesn't usually flinch at things like this. she's not used to being the one who gets left on read, or even the one to text first.

but she did, this time.

and you saw it. and you didn't say anything.

she shuts off her phone quickly and tosses it onto the empty seat next to her. tries not to let her face change. she tries not to let this stupid feeling drag her down.

karina leans her head back against the wall.

it's fine. it's not a big deal. you're just a fan. she's just being... overly curious. that's all.

this isn't anything, she tells herself, and somehow, that doesn't make it better.

"unnie."

she glances up. ningning's looking down at her, eyebrows furrowed. "hm?"

ningning tilts her head, scrutinizing.

"what's wrong."

"nothing. why?"

"you have a frowny face."

"so do you," karina teases.

"it's a worried face," ningning says, dropping into the seat next to her. she glances sideways at her. "you were checking your phone a lot."

karina shrugs. "we all were."

"no, i mean..." ningning sighs. "unh... never mind. are you tired? it was a busy day."

"i'm okay. i slept last night."

"you did." ningning nods a few too many times, like she's trying to reassure herself. then she asks, almost cautiously, "are you sure? if there's something going on—"

"no," karina interrupts gently. "it's not important. we're busy right now, right?"

ningning presses her lips together, clearly not buying the excuse, but she doesn't push either. just stares. and waits.

and then karina can't help herself."there is," she blurts, "one thing. that's, um—kind of bugging me. i think."

ningning perks up immediately."okay!" she exclaims and pats the seat beside her. "let's talk."

⭑𓂃

it’d been a few days since the concert.

livi had flown back yesterday—teary but mostly tired, already planning her next trip over text before she even boarded her flight. the apartment felt a little too quiet now without her endless commentary in the background, without the familiar weight of her draped across the couch complaining about jet lag and stealing your snacks.

you’d thrown yourself back into work pretty quickly, not because you were particularly passionate about being a server at the only chinese-korean fusion restaurant in the area, but more so to avoid your thoughts. which were a lot lately, and a little overwhelming, if you were being honest.

your coworker taylor had been retelling a story for the past ten minutes about how their landlord was in love with them. again.

“i swear this time it’s real,” taylor said, twirling a pen between her fingers. “he smiled at me like. like… very romantic.”

you raised an eyebrow. “and you liked that?”

“no, what—well… hmm.”

you snorted, leaning over the table to grab the salt before wiping that down as well. “maybe he’s just trying to avoid raising your rent.”

“honestly, hot.”

it wasn’t an exciting shift. you spent most of it bouncing back and forth between tables and restocking supplies, and when a family with an obnoxious kid started whining for extra appetizers, taylor sent you a sympathetic look. you stuck out your tongue and took the order, and after an hour and a half of doing everything from getting refills to babysitting said kid, it was nearing time to clock out.

by the end of your shift, you were a sweaty, disheveled mess. your apron was untied. you were pretty sure you had rice stuck to the side of your arm, and you could feel your ponytail coming undone, strands sticking to the back of your neck. you sighed, fumbling with the keys while balancing two grocery bags and your backpack and finally, after three unsuccessful attempts, unlocked the front door.

it was 6:15, and you were exhausted.

your apartment smelled like home again. sora was at the dining table, her laptop open and several textbooks stacked around her like she was attempting to summon a demon via apa formatting. she barely glanced up when you walked in.

“did you get tofu?” she asked.

“top of the bag.”

“bless you. jae’s in the kitchen already.”

you kicked off your shoes and wandered in to find jae slicing up bell peppers, the sleeves of his hoodie pushed to his elbows. there was a pot already simmering on the stove, something tomato-based, and the smell made your stomach growl.

“i thought you were gonna wait for me,” you said, setting the rest of the groceries down.

“i was starving. you’re late.”

“it’s literally 6:42.”

“late.”

you rolled your eyes and washed your hands, stepping in to help. you both moved easily around each other, not really needing to talk, just vibing to whatever random playlist was echoing softly from the bluetooth speaker in the corner. it was domestic in a low-stakes, low-pressure way.

“did livi text you?” jae asked eventually, tossing tofu cubes into the pan.

“yeah. said the plane sucked. she cried watching kung fu panda.”

“as she should.”

there was a beat of silence as you stirred the pot, watching steam rise.

“so…” jae said, voice casual but a little too casual. “what have you and karina been texting about?”

you blinked. “what?”

“you gave her a bracelet,” he sing-songed, smirking. “then she couldn’t help but text you afterwards! so, spill. what do the messages say? anything spicy yet? should we be concerned?"

“shut up—oh my god—”

“no, but seriously,” he said, laughing as he ducked a halfhearted slap from you. "how are the messages, huh?"

you opened your mouth to tell him to drop it, but then—

“oh my god.”

you froze. mid-stir.

“what?” jae asked, confused.

you turned to him slowly, wide-eyed, like you’d just remembered something catastrophic.

“i never responded to her dm.”

jae dropped the spatula.

“wait, what?!”

“okay, to be fair,” you said, fumbling to wipe your hands and grab your phone. “you guys were passing around my phone like a joint, and i had a million things on my mind.”

“you forgot to reply to karina of aespa?”

“i was busy—fuck, fuck, shit. how long has it been? livi’s going to kill me.”

“you’re worried about livi and not the fucking idol you gave a custom handmade bracelet to and ignored afterwards? we need to do some crisis management here, y/n, and it needs to happen fast. this could damage her ego or even her fragile heart if we don't act soon—you can't just ignore people like this; it's not cute!"

you ignored him, frantically unlocking your phone and scrolling through your instagram messages, dread settling in your stomach.

there it was.

hey. it’s me lol

seen.

four. days. ago.

you stared at it in horror. jae came around to look over your shoulder.

“she probably thinks you ghosted her.”

“i didn’t—”

“you did. accidentally, but still. you left the most sought-after idol in the country on read.”

you groaned and dropped your forehead onto the counter. “do i even reply now? it’s been days. she probably thinks i’m some weird clout chaser who got cold feet.”

“she gave you her wrist.”

“why are you making this worse?”

jae snorted and patted your back. “you’re gonna have to send the best comeback message of your life.”

you stayed there, face down against the kitchen tile, trying to figure out how the hell you were supposed to text her now without sounding like a weirdo.

okay. you needed some time to think about this. or a whole year. maybe two. just enough time for her to forget the incident entirely, or the fact that you were alive, and move on with her life.

yeah, that would work.

"oh, hey. if you don't want to respond, can i use your dms to get her to follow me on insta? do you know how cool my instagram would look? followed by ka—“

you shoved him so hard he hit the fridge.

by the time you went to bed, the message from karina was burning a hole in your thoughts. minutes. should you be cool? friendly? funny? or just say something straightforward?

maybe i should just say hi back.

you typed:

hey! sorry i was busy—work’s been crazy.

then deleted it.

too boring.

what if she thinks you’re lame?

you typed again:

hey, karina! didn’t mean to ghost you, i swear.

and deleted that too.

no, no. too desperate.

“this is too hard," you whispered to yourself. "why does this have to be complicated?"

after ten minutes, you were no closer to having a normal, coherent thought than you had been before. all you had was:

hi.

...and then nothing, because that was just embarrassing. you rubbed a hand over your face, letting out a slow, shaky breath.

one tap. that was all you needed to do. one stupid tap, and it would be over.

you hesitated, chewing on your lower lip. then, "fucking coward," you hissed, and finally pressed send.

you let out a long exhale and watched the screen light up with the notification.

your heart skipped.

"i hate this," you told yourself, and promptly chucked your phone across the room.

⭑𓂃

it was early when your alarm blared.

you cracked your eyes open, already grumpy. your phone was somewhere, but you didn't really have the energy to care. your body was telling you to roll back over and go to sleep. you were about to listen when a different kind of sound roused you awake.

someone's knocking.

"hold on."

you shoved your blanket away and rubbed your face with both hands before dragging yourself upright. the floor was cold, your hair was sticking up in a thousand different directions, and you had no idea where your socks had run off to, but you'd gotten worse wake up calls before.

you cracked open the door, and there was sora—arms crossed, eyebrows raised, looking way too alive this hour.

“you’re late,” she said, flatly.

“for what?” you muttered, yawning and scratching at the nape of your neck.

“class.”

you blinked. “…what time is it?”

“ten thirty.”

you stared at her for a full beat. “i’m gonna die.”

she followed you in as you scrambled for your charger, phone, clean-ish hoodie—whatever you could grab while trying to brush your teeth at the same time. somewhere under a hoodie pile, you found your phone and plugged it in. it didn’t turn on right away. probably dead since yesterday.

“why didn’t you wake me up?” you said, mouth half-full of toothpaste.

“you told me not to. you said, and i quote, i'm an adult, and i'm perfectly capable of getting to class on time."

you spat into the sink. "that's not what i sounded like."

"it's exactly what you sounded like."

by the time you made it out the door with a banana in one hand and your backpack half-zipped, your phone finally buzzed to life.

two messages. again, from instagram.

katarinabluu:

i don’t exactly know why i sent that first text. i think i was just curious. or maybe i just liked that you weren't awkward around us? like you knew we were idols and everything, but you didn't treat us differently, you just treated us like people.

katarinabluu:

but now that we’re here—i broke the bracelet. well, not all of it. just the charm. it snapped during dance practice, and now it’s gone. and i feel kind of awful because i actually really liked it.

you stared at the screen, the banana forgotten in your hand.

she was texting you about the bracelet.

which, admittedly, was a good thing. a positive. you didn't ignore her and piss her off, and she didn't stop talking to you because you were a shitty human being who left people on read, and that was great.

but, shit.

the bracelet.

it was a simple, uncomplicated gift—something that came together quickly, mostly because you were procrastinating on the midterm essay you should have finished two nights before the concert. you hadn't really been thinking of anything more than, "hey, thanks. nice seeing you." but the look on karina's face when she saw it had made your chest feel oddly tight, and it was the first thing that popped into your head.

"dude." sora nudged you gently. "are you leaving, or are you going to spend all morning staring at your phone and have to walk to campus instead of taking the bus?"

"shit—wait." you jogged after her, and, yeah. she was right. you didn't have time for a meltdown.

at least not until later.

so, for the rest of the day, you didn't let yourself check the chat again, too scared to see the little number 2 hovering by your message. instead, you shoved your phone deep in your pocket and focused on your classes, even if your thoughts kept drifting.

was karina waiting for you to reply? what was she doing right now? would she be busy until evening? or did she have free time between schedules and practices and shoots, and maybe she wanted to talk more than she was letting on?

or, god forbid, did she hate you for forgetting and leave her hanging, and now you're on some sort of blacklist for messing up her mental stability, and the company was probably looking for someone else to replace you, and karina will never have a connection with another fan, and now it's all your fault.

okay. if this whole situation is on your mind mid-lecture, you should probably just respond, right?

you: oh… i still have extra charms. i didn’t mean for it to be that fragile, sorry.

you: i can fix it for you if you want?

you watched the screen anxiously for a few minutes, then tried to remind yourself to not look desperate. this wasn’t a big deal. you were doing this because you felt bad. because this whole thing was ruining your head.

your phone buzzed again.

katarinabluu: really?

katarinabluu: i’m free tonight. unless that’s too soon.

katarinabluu: meeting up wouldn’t be odd, no? we’ve met twice already.

you blinked.

then read the texts again.

twice already.

you leaned forward and hid your face in your hands, taking a long, slow inhale. thought about your shift. you had work. 4 to close.

you:

i’ll be working tonight actually.

a few minutes passed. then:

katarinabluu:

where do you work? i can stop by.

"oh, jesus christ," you muttered.

you pressed a hand over your eyes, feeling your cheeks grow warm. "is this happening? am i losing my mind? do i need to call livi?"

although, you still give her your hours and the address to your job. there’s no way she’d actually come. she’s an idol, and your restaurant is very public.

yeah.

no way.

"i'm going crazy," you murmured.

"what was that?" your friend, vivian, asked.

"nothing. sorry."

she gave you a look but didn't pry.

⭑𓂃

work dragged. it always does.

taylor was late. of course. but she also brought extra cookies so you didn't complain. much.

it had been hours since karina’s last message. there was no way she was gonna show. so, why are you still scanning every face that comes in the door?

stop it. you were just jittery. tired, a bit. still half-asleep, maybe.

just. stop it.

by the end of your shift, it was almost closing time, and karina was definitely not gonna show. most of the tables were empty now. you were restocking napkins behind the counter, trying not to glance up too much, when you heard the bell chime.

"seriously? we close in ten…” taylor murmurs, walking to the kitchen to leave you with the new customer.

your brain didn’t register it at first.

the girl had a baseball cap on that read “i don’t work here,” with a wired headphone in her right ear along with a pair of glasses. she looked like a college student—a very, very cute one, with a familiar grin.

oh. it took a second, but as soon as you put it together, you told your brain to shut up and never think again.

and then she looked up.

the hat didn’t hide much when you were this close. not the cheekbones. not the way her eyes flicked around like she was half-amused by how low-key she wasn’t being.

your heart stuttered once.

“hi,” she said.

her voice was softer than you remembered. a bit scratchy, like maybe she'd just been sleeping or singing. or both.

“hey.”

she smiled, just a little. “sorry i’m late.”

you caught yourself staring. then quickly stepped to the side to grab a menu, even though you already knew what was left in the kitchen.

“um. do you—are you actually eating?”

“unless that’s weird.”

“it’s not,” you said, glancing around. “it’s just we’re closing in a few, so the pickings are pretty slim.”

karina tilted her head. “hmm…”

you let out a small laugh at her confused face, which immediately caused her to laugh a little as well, letting the glasses drop down the bridge of her nose a little. you motioned for her to follow you to one of the corner booths—one that wasn’t too close to the windows or too out in the open. she slid in, still tucking herself into her hoodie like she wasn’t the center of attention every other day.

you handed her a menu, even though she didn’t look at it.

“chef’s choice?” you offered.

she shrugged. “only if that includes dessert.”

you blinked. then nodded. “i can do that.”

it was weird. the whole reason she was here was because of the bracelet, but neither of you had yet to bring it up. and, god, was it weird.

but not awkward.

you came back with a tray. noodles, rice, dumplings, and something sweet on the side you found in the back fridge from earlier—a leftover slice of strawberry shortcake. you didn’t know if she liked strawberries. you just hoped she didn’t hate them.

“sorry, this is kind of the best i could do,” you muttered, setting it down in front of her.

karina blinked, lifting her head from her phone. she looked at the plate, then up at you. “it smells amazing.”

she didn't have chopsticks, but you did. you set two sets next to her plate.

"thank you," she said, and her mouth quirked a little. "this is probably the first thing i've had all day that doesn't have nutritional value."

you tried to hold in a laugh. "so, does that mean it's a step up from kale juice or a step down?"

"probably both."

you grinned. she tucked the earbud away, sliding her phone back in her pocket before picking up the chopsticks.

"um, do you have the bracelet?”

karina raised an eyebrow.

"with you," you explained, a little embarrassed.

she hesitated. then pulled the bracelet from her pocket. "here," she said.

you slid into the seat across from her, taking out the new charm from your pocket before getting started.

neither of you said anything for a second. the clink of her chopsticks against the bowl filled the air.

your hands were working slowly. she came all this way—in a hat and glasses, hours after your shift started—just to say hi and eat decent food and watch you fumble with plastic beads like you were twelve.

you could feel her looking at you now.

you glanced up.

she was chewing, chopsticks paused midair, head tilted slightly.

“what?” you asked.

karina blinked, then smiled around her bite. “you’re very serious.”

“i’m trying to fix something you broke.”

“you didn’t have to say it like that.”

you shrugged. “just saying.”

she laughed a little under her breath. her eyes flicked up, and they crinkled in a way you hadn't noticed before, soft at the corners.

“is it true i’m the only one who has a bracelet like this now?”

"yeah," you said.

she hummed. that makes her happy.

a few seconds passed. then:

“i remember you said you wanted to be an actress," she asked suddenly.

“yeah.” you looked down at the bracelet. "that's right.”

“yeah,” she said. “you couldn’t do that in chicago?”

you furrowed your brows, glancing at her. how the hell did she know you were from chicago?

karina seemed to notice, because she added, quietly, almost hesitantly, "your sister."

"right. yeah." you flushed. “well, uh, yeah… but i just thought i'd be better off somewhere else."

"i can understand that," she said. then her expression shifted. something more thoughtful.

"do you miss it? chicago?"

"no," you answered, without really thinking. then you backtracked a bit, shaking your head. "i mean—maybe sometimes. just certain parts."

"like what?"

you frowned, considering the question. "obviously my sister. and um… my friend's pizza place. the weird, ugly statue near my house. the dog park is across the street. that kind of thing."

karina leaned forward, propping her elbow on the table and resting her cheek against her hand. she was grinning now. "we have dogs too, you know."

you scoffed. "dude. this is not comparable."

"really?"

"yes, really."

"because we have a lot of parks. a lot."

you opened your mouth to retort, then stopped yourself.

okay. maybe not a complete loss.

"well," you said, giving in a little. "maybe."

there was a lull in the conversation.

then she looked at you again, her head tilted a fraction, the corner of her mouth curved.

"can i tell you something?"

you didn't dare break eye contact.

"yeah," you breathed, feeling something shift a little, maybe a beat, but not uncomfortably, no. it was… the opposite. like the air between the two of you changed a little, softened.

"you remind me of my older sister," karina admitted. her voice was softer. almost nostalgic. "well, you and livi’s dynamic just reminded me a lot of ours growing up."

you looked down, a little embarrassed, but smiling.

"that's—thank you.”

karina studied you for another second, still a little smile. you were used to being under her gaze now. it felt less heavy and more gentle, like you could just exist in that space, in the open, and nothing bad would come from it.

she picked at the dumplings while you tied the last knot, trying not to seem too focused on the way her eyes scanned the room every few minutes—always alert, like she was waiting for someone to recognize her, or maybe hoping someone didn’t.

you tightened the bracelet.

“there,” you said quietly. “it should hold better now. no more broken charms."

she held out her wrist just like she did the first time. and this time you didn’t hesitate to clasp the bracelet around her wrist, fingers lingering just a second too long.

you swallowed.

“thank you,” she said.

you nodded once.

and then she said, like it was a secret, her voice dropping to a low whisper, "if anyone asks, i'll say i fixed it myself."

you gaped.

"how dare you?!"

karina burst into laughter, leaning back in the booth and covering her mouth. "i'm joking!"

"my work is art, and you're insulting me, and here i was, making the whole damn thing again."

"please." she snorted. "it was two beads."

"art," you insisted.

her shoulders shook with silent giggles. she pressed her lips together, the rest of the laugh trapped inside.

she took another bite of the shortcake, then paused halfway through, raising an eyebrow at you.

“want some?”

you shook your head immediately. “i’m good.”

karina tilted her head, her expression amused. “why?”

“this is your meal.”

“so?”

you gave her a look, but she was already scooping up another bite and holding it toward you like a dare.

“i don’t like eating while someone just watches me,” she said. “it’s weird.”

“i watch people eat all day,” you muttered.

she raised her eyebrows. “is that supposed to make me feel better?”

you didn’t answer. just stared her down for a second, stubborn. she didn’t drop the expression, either.

you exhaled—long and reluctant—then leaned forward and took the bite.

she looked triumphant, like she’d just won something. you rolled your eyes and sank back, chewing slowly. it wasn't bad. not at all, but the flavor was a bit too sweet for you and a little overwhelming.

“you like strawberries?”

you shrugged, looking down. “sure.”

karina chewed another small bite. you kept your eyes on the table, or on the half-finished bracelet, or on anything but her mouth.

the silence settled again, but not uncomfortably. you fiddled with the corner of the table, glancing up when you felt her watching.

eventually, her voice broke through again.

"are you always this closed off?” she asked.

you blinked, startled. “what?”

she shrugged one shoulder. her gaze flicked to you.

then, quieter,

“i’m just wondering. like… are you always like this? calm, quiet, kind of mysterious? or is it just ‘cause it’s me?”

you snorted, lips quirking up. “i don’t think i’m mysterious.”

“you’re mysterious,” she said, no hesitation.

you shook your head. “i just don’t talk to people that much.”

“that’s kind of mysterious.”

“that’s just introversion.”

“same thing.”

you gave her a look, but she only smiled, her face so unbearably soft in the dim lights of the restaurant.

she didn’t ask about what music you liked or if you’d been to any concerts or what you thought of aespa. she didn’t mention her work. she didn’t try to steer the conversation to anything bigger than what was sitting right here in front of her.

it was weird. and kind of nice.

and then—just as you were starting to forget where you were—the swinging door from the back creaked open.

taylor poked her head out. “y/n. you’re closing, right?”

you nodded.

“cool. we’re heading out. lock up when you’re done. lights off. you know the drill.”

they disappeared before you could respond. you turned back to karina.

she was already standing.

you stood too, uncertain. “you don’t have to rush—”

“no, i should go,” she said, adjusting her cap and sliding the plate and utensils towards the edge. the familiar edge of awareness returned to her eyes, scanning the corners of the room, the windows, and the door. “before someone recognizes me and we end up in a dispatch article or something.”

you opened your mouth, then closed it.

she paused halfway to the door. “if i were to text you, would you leave me on seen again?”

you threw your head back slightly, muttering a curse under your breath.

she laughed quietly.

“that was an accident! and i was going to reply, i promise."

"it's okay. i believe you."

you frowned.

"seriously. it's fine."

"you don't sound like it's fine," you mumbled.

she slid her phone out of her pocket and unlocked the screen.

"i'll be a lot more pissed off if you don't give me your number."

"right," you said, and flushed. you glanced around the restaurant quickly, making sure no one was looking before giving her your number.

"saved," karina said, locking her screen, satisfied.

she hesitated.

and then, unexpectedly, her smile shifted a bit. it got a little smaller. more genuine, somehow.

"thank you."

you let out a small chuckle, shrugging. "you're welcome. really."

karina grinned. she had a playful look, a spark of mischief in her eyes, like there was a joke you hadn't heard yet.

"see you later," she said, and slipped out the front door.

it was quiet again, almost deafening.

you waited.

waited some more.

then,

"holy shit."

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