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Chaeryeong is convinced that Seo Changbin (row B, seat 4) and Han Jisung (row B, seat 5) from her Intro to Modern Architecture class are dating.
And she has no idea how no one else has noticed.
For starters, neither of them even like architecture. Chae knows this because she heard them in week two talking about only taking this class to boost their GPAs, which she doesn’t blame them for since that’s why half their class is here too. Everyone and their mothers know that Professor Tuan is the chillest teacher to ever bless their university. Even if Architecture wasn’t her actual major, Chae would probably be here anyway.
As she finds out in her next accidental eavesdropping escapade, it’s not just the GPA boost which inspired Changbin and Jisung to take the class. Apparently, it had been the only subject that fit into both of their schedules. (Though key word: apparently. Chae’s not too sure about the whole class schedule thing because Yuna had decided it was the perfect moment to spam their group chat with ‘I love you, King Julian!’ memes, and Chaeryeong became preoccupied with offering the only acceptable response to said memes, aka the entire Bee Movie script.)
Even if the subject matching was true, it didn’t faze Chaeryeong much. Not at first. She’d done practically the exact same thing with Ryujin last semester and still has the misshapen, ‘contemporary’ pottery dish she’d made for her final in her dorm.
No, it’s not the subject choice that tips her off, or even the fact that they always arrive together. And they always arrive together.
They come in with their matching coffee cups from the bio labs’ cafe—only good coffee on campus—and nine times out of ten Changbin is carrying Jisung’s bag. Although the second part seems more of a safety precaution rather than anything else, due to Jisung having a chronic habit of talking with his hands. Chaeryeong has seen him almost trip over his feet on six separate occasions; thank god for Changbin, who manages to stabilise him just before he falls.
Honestly, all of that on its own, Chaeryeong probably could have chalked up to two guys just being friends. A couple of dudes being dudes. Doing dude things.
And Chaeryeong knows that nowadays society has a bad habit of mislabelling male friendships just because they are affectionate with each other, so she’s doing her best not to assume. She’s seen the flipside of it more often than she’d like to admit. At this point, Yeji could kiss Lia right on the mouth and people would somehow still find a way to pass it off as them being ‘good old gal friends’.
So Chaeryeong lets four weeks go by—four long weeks where she purposefully does not think about it, is very respectful, and definitely not nosey because she’s grown-up and mature.
But then her resolve slips. God, she’s kind of surprised that she lasted this long.
Because friends… friends don’t look at each other like Changbin and Jisung do.
And it keeps happening.
Chaeryeong can feel the force of their gazes, the intensity with which they watch each other, all the way from her seat up back (row F, seat 11, good view, not too far back that she can’t hear their professor but not too close that she feels the need to constantly glance over her shoulder).
Changbin and Jisung have the subtlety of a brick that’s just smashed through a window. And then whacked you in the face.
Everytime she spots them, they’re touching somehow. Not in a desperate way. Just simple, easy. Like sharing space with someone—in one of Lia’s dramas, Chae remembers one of the leads saying, “you’re not invading my space, my space if your space, my air is yours, everything I own I share with you.” Of course, the lead had promptly ran across the street without looking both ways (moron) and been taken out by a car, but the sentiment was sweet.
She likes to imagine Changbin and Jisung as leads in a drama, but without all the slow-mos and wrist grabs and love triangles.
It’s early one morning—note to self: stop taking morning classes. They do not make you more productive, just more tired.
Jisung appears to have found a solution, using Changbin’s shoulder as a pillow. Changbin’s arm is draped across the back of Jisung’s chair, from where he’d tried to do that manoeuvre from the movies involving a yawn, stretch and oh oops, when did his arm end up around Jisung’s shoulders? Chaeryeong has to hide her grin behind her hand, and even though she isn’t able to see Jisung’s expression she can see the way his shoulders shake in silent laughter. Like she said, neither of them are very subtle.
Case in point number two: on a Thursday afternoon, as they’re all trying to act very calm about the quiz they have due the next day—sure, Professor Tuan is chill but a quiz is still a quiz—Chaeryeong can’t help but spot the way Changbin reaches across and intertwines his fingers with Jisung’s, which had been fidgeting with a pencil. She’s not close enough to catch what they say to each other, which isn’t creepy, shut up Yuna. But she can see the way Jisung’s shoulder starts to relax little by little.
The class after that they both arrive in tank tops, trailing gym bags with them. Chaeryeong’s gaze follows them both all the way to their seats, as does just about every other eye in the room. Matthew and Somin (row C, seats 13 and 14) are blatantly checking them out, and she spots four more doing the same.
Chaeryeong can admit that they both look good, although no abs are ever going to rival Ryujin’s. Not that Chaeryeong is going to go around admitting that to anyone.
But the way they both keep feeling each other up—squeezing each other’s biceps and patting each other’s chests—is both the bro-est thing Chaeryeong’s seen and the most suspicious. She thinks it’s the look they give each other as they poke and prod, the familiarity between them, the teasing glint in their eyes that seems a little too much (too deep, too fond) just to be friends.
(God. Please. When. Will. It. Be. Her. Turn.)
They’re on a class break—because yes, Professor Tuan is one of those good teachers who gives breaks halfway through class—and Chaeryeong is just doodling on a notebook when it happens. The final nail in the coffin she’s built for herself.
A giggle from the front row, one she immediately recognises.
When she looks up she sees Changbin leant forward, hand cupping his mouth as he whispers something into Jisung’s ear.
Not a moment later, Jisung dissolves into another fit of giggles. His head tilts back, his smile on full display and Changbin…
Well.
There’s no other word for it.
The boy looks whipped. Five freaking ways to Sunday.
His smile is sunshine bright as he watches Jisung, overwhelming fondness bubbling up in his expression. Every fibre in his body is tipped towards Jisung, as if being pulled towards a beacon. His smile, a mirror of Jisung’s, stretches wide and happy across his mouth. This look right here, Chaeryeong knows that look.
If they’re not already dating, Chaeryeong needs it to happen right now because that right there? That look? It’s love, clear as day.
Chaeryeong has seen the look enough times on the faces of her friends, on her parents’ faces, on those she passes in the street, to know what love looks like. That’s love, as clear and as plain as she sees it in her own face when she scrolls through her camera roll and stumbles across those photos: the ones snapped with her next to her best friend, gaze not quite directed at the camera but to the girl beside her.
Heck, she hopes Changbin and Jisung aren’t like her. They better not be. Hiding from your own feelings is exhausting, and totally unnecessary for Changbin and Jisung because it’s so damn clear that the love between them is reciprocated (the lucky shitheads). They better have their shit together otherwise she’s going to start throwing hands. The two dumbasses actually have a chance together. Do they realise how freaking lucky that is?
Do they realise how many poor bastards are out there, dragging their lonely little hearts around, giving them away to people who gave no indication of wanting them in the first place–
No, this isn’t about her. Or her very non-existent crush that will definitely go away soon.
(Definitely.)
She glances back down at the second row, unsurprised to see both of them still giggling as Jisung shows Changbin something on his phone.
Sweet mother of Jesus, they even have matching phone cases.
It’s not supposed to become a thing. It doesn’t becomea thing.
Chaeryeong just happens to have class with Changbin and Jisung, who may or may not (emphasis on may) be dating, and it’s not a thing.
She’s explaining as much to Yeji and Lia, who share twin looks of disbelief.
“Are you sure they’re dating?” Lia asks, when she finishes.
Chaeryeong huffs. “They’re so gone for each other that it makes my teeth hurt.”
“They could just be the bestest of bros? The dudebros are like the biggest queer baiters ever,” Yuna says, emerging from the kitchen with popcorn in hand.
“You take that back right now,” cries Chae, stabbing a finger in her direction. “And we’ve had this conversation, someone isn’t queer baiting you just because you want them to be gay.”
“Tell that to Ariana Grande.”
“Yuna, come on, she was supposed to be kissing herself or something. It was just a music video.”
“It hurt me,” she pouts, and Chaeryeong rolls her eyes. It’s an age-old debate at this point and if Yuna hasn’t given up by now, she probably never will.
“We’re just saying, Chae,” says Lia, turning the conversation back to her, “you never know what their relationship actually is unless they tell you. It could be just wishful thinking.”
Chaeryeong doesn’t like the scepticism in her tone. Scepticism is for losers and Socrates. Chae has ascended scepticism. She’s manifesting.
“You haven’t seen them together,” she tells Lia, reaching over to steal a handful of Yuna’s popcorn. The other day Changbin had been showing Jisung something, heads tipped close as they shared a pair of headphones. The pure excitement playing across Jisung’s face the whole time, and the way he got up to shake Changbin’s shoulders when it was over—“oh my god, hyung, it’s so freaking cool!”—was almost too much for Chaeryeong to take.
“Have you ever seen them kiss?” asks Yuna. She’s sprawled herself across the couch, feet shoved into Yeji’s unwilling lap.
Chaeryeong’s silence is answer enough.
“But that doesn’t confirm anything,” she tries to say. Yeji and Lia hadn’t kissed in front of the rest of them for the whole first month they’d been dating. And even then, that wasn’t until they all had gotten drunk together. “Some people don’t like PDA.”
Yeji’s eyebrow raises. “I thought you said they were really touchy with each other?”
“Yeah but…” She trails off, trying to find a way to tell them. For them to realise how obvious the two are.
Yuna and Yeji start to fight for the remote, even though it’s Ryujin’s turn to pick the movie. Except, Ryujin hasn’t actually arrived yet even though the rest of them have been here for half an hour already and shit, Chae had been trying really hard not to think about that. Because it’s not like she should mind that Ryujin is late. She shouldn’t care this much.
Maybe Ryujin got caught up in something. Maybe she made other plans and just forgot to tell them because Ryujin is popular and has lots of other friends and could totally be out with them instead. (Even though Tuesday night has been movie night for the five of them since first semester.)
The thought sits uneasy in the pit of her stomach.
“Does it really matter though?”
Chae startles, staring up at Yuna in confusion.
She wonders how long it’s been since she’s zoned out.
“Does what matter?”
Yuna lets out a long suffering sigh and takes another handful of popcorn. “If these two random dudes are dating? Does it matter?”
“Oh.” Shit. The answer should be no, because Chaeryeong is a well-adjusted, normal university student and the nature of two random dudes’ relationship statuses should not matter to her in the slightest. And yet…
“It matters,” Chae murmurs, without really meaning to.
“Why though? Why do you care if they’re dating?” Yuna presses.
“Because–” and this time, she can’t finish her sentence.
Because Chaeryeong has never seen two people more hopelessly in love with each other, two people that are better suited for each other. Because even though they’re not perfect—Chae’s not sure if anyone is—and they’re so different sometimes, she can see it. It’s so obvious; the time each of them have taken to line up all their jagged edges, the ridges of themselves (their hearts, bodies, souls) just so that they can fit together as one.
It matters because, goddammit, someone has to get their happily ever after, even if it’s not her.
Ryujin choses that moment to crash through the door—“I’m so sorry, there was a kitten!”—and Chaeryeong has never been more thankful for her best friend’s timing.
The subject is thankfully dropped, and Chaeryeong spends the rest of the evening pretending she doesn’t notice the knowing looks Lia keeps shooting her.
Chaeryeong has never been good at keeping secrets (well except for one, and she thinks the only person she’s successfully been able to keep that from is Ryujin).
Secrets aren’t her thing. And this one a) isn’t even a secret and b) isn’t even hers!
There’s other people in her class who should have noticed. She can’t be alone in her knowledge: it’s time consuming, lonely, and boring.
If anyone should have noticed Jisung and Changbin by now, it’s Kim Jisoo (row D, seat 13).
Chaeryeong decides this during their next Thursday class, as she’s sketching a design for their upcoming project on minimalism.
She actually met Jisoo at a house party last semester, out on the balcony of a sorority house. Jisoo had been surrounded by a couple of her friends, while Chaeryeong had just been trailing pitifully after Yuna.
Chaeryeong is an introvert, okay? She can’t do parties on her own unless they’re small and consist of (preferably just) her four closest friends. Normally, this means she’d just spend house parties at Ryujin’s side but Ryujin had disappeared into the crowd the moment they’d arrived and Chae is doing a great job of pretending that it doesn’t sting that her best friend abandoned her. She can have a good time on her own, no problem.
Introductions go around on the balcony, promptly followed by plastic cups of a very strong smelling punch. Surprisingly (or maybe not), Chaeryeong actually finds herself enjoying it after a little while. The breeze is still warm, clinging onto the last of summer, and Jisoo is actually in the process of switching into Urban Design so she and Chae apparently share a whole lot of subjects, as well as a mutual hatred for Professor Choi.
Jisoo is friendly and sweet and very kindly doesn’t mention the fact that Chaeryeong keeps glancing at the door back into the sorority house—which opens every couple of minutes, spilling out a babble of sound and music and laughter. She must have noticed it by now but Jisoo’s lips stay sealed. There’s a glint in her eyes though, somewhere between understanding and sympathy. Chaeryeong had looked away, stomach churning.
If Jisoo had been able to notice Chae at the party, then why can’t she see the obvious signs from Jisung and Changbin.
And even if Jisoo hasn’t, then surely Yugyeom (row C, seat 2) should have by now. He might be shy but he’s also on a first name basis with half of the people on campus. If he knows anything however, he doesn’t show it.
Not that Chaeryeong knows how someone might show that they know about someone else’s relationship, but she assumes she’d be able to see it in their face. The knowledge would link them together somehow. A mutual consciousness. (Can you tell that she never properly listens to Lia when she goes on her psychology rants? All those long words and terminology, it’s hard to keep up.)
Chae’s at the end of her figurative rope, which is the only justification for her next move.
For some reason she thinks it’s a great idea to very casually ask Kyuhyun (row A, seat 10)—aka the only kid in class who actually ties—about who he thinks the cutest couples in class are. She receives a blank stare in response and vaguely contemplates crying. Like come on, he’s the smartest person in their class! He’s running laps around the rest of them with his IQ points alone! He definitely has car insurance and a neat 10-year-plan. Surely, he must be able to see it.
But he just stares as she fumbles with the notes they’d been sharing and tries to brush it off. He lets her, thank god. Kyuhyun better not have thought it was the set up to some pick up line. That would make it even worse and Chaeryeong never would be able to show her face ever again. Anywhere.
So screw this stupid secret that the universe is set on her bearing alone.
Honestly, she’s got better things to do anyway.
Their first assignment (the one on minimalism that most kids take as an excuse to do as little effort as possible) is coming up and Chaeryeong’s work schedule is kicking her in the ass. She spends all her free time in the low lit after-hours library, hunched over a lightbox to sketch. There’s a design she has in her head for the archway, but it keeps coming out crooked and she’s erased her drawing so many times that she’s going to have to find a new bit of paper soon, and if she could just get this stupid damn edge right–
A hand taps her shoulder and Chae jumps about a foot in the air.
“Jesus, fuck–!”
Ryujin giggles. “Don’t let the librarian hear you say that.”
Chaeryeong’s heart is still pounding furiously in her chest. “S–screw you,” she chokes out, out of breath for no reason. “Ms Moon loves me.” Which is true. Chaeryeong probably sees Ms Moon more than she sees her own mother.
“You’re cute,” Ryujin giggles again and Chaeryeong’s heart starts doing backflips. Aggressively. Against her ribcage. She looks away so that Ryujin can’t see the blush colouring her cheeks.
“What are you doing in the library?” Chaeryeong manages to ask without stuttering. “It’s like–” she glances at the clock, then swears under her breath. “It’s two in the morning?”
“Sure is!” grins Ryujin, with way too much enthusiasm. “That’s why I’m here. Big brains like yours need their sleep.” She reaches up to knock a knuckle gently against Chaeryeong’s forehead, which has her heart double-timing for a whole different reason. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”
It takes a second for Chaeryeong’s brain to catch up with what’s happening; she’s still reeling from Ryujin’s arrival, and being called cute, and the way Ryujin is gently manoeuvring her away from the lightbox, and shit, the fact that it’s already two am and Chaeryeong still hasn’t finished her–
“Wait no, Ryu, I need to work on that.” Chaeryeong reaches out for the sketch, but Ryujin is faster, rolling it up and holding it out of her reach.
“What you need is sleep. Your design is amazing already, you can touch it up tomorrow.”
“But, my professor–”
“I know for a fact that this project isn’t due for another week.”
“Ryu.”
“Chae.”
It’s only then that Chaeryeong realises how close they’ve gotten.
Everything in her head turns to jelly. Maybe her legs too.
“Chae,” Ryujin says again, and she’s leaning in close (she’s leaning in closer! Warning! Warning! This is not a drill!) and her hands, god her hands, have found Chaeryeong’s shoulders, gentle and grounding and no, no, she can’t take this.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” Ryujin promises, softly. “Just breathe for a minute, yeah? You’re doing great.”
And Chaeryeong can’t stop herself from melting this time because above all else, Ryujin is her best friend and hearing those words lifts a weight off her chest that she didn’t realise she had been carrying around. She melts, the exhaustion of early morning classes and a 6-hour shift finally hitting her, and she really shouldn’t be surprised anymore than Ryujin is there to catch her.
(And yeah, maybe she still wants to kiss her best friend on the mouth. But that’s a secondary thing.
Curled up together under Chaeryeong’s covers, in a bed that definitely isn’t made for two, it doesn’t even seem to matter. Just being here, being able to be Ryujin’s friend, soak up all of her warmth, see her smile. It could be enough. It could.)
Monday class rolls by and Chaeryeong almost forgets to notice the happy couple. (She’s 97% sure her theory is correct, and everyday the number only grows higher. She smashed her mandatory Statistics class. Trust her.)
In fact, Chaeryeong doesn’t even think about the two at all until roughly half an hour in. Professor Tuan is just about to explain Jorn Utzon’s process of designing the Sydney Opera House when Jisung pulls out a jumper.
It’s right about the moment he slips it over his head that Chaeryeong spots it.
Chaeryeong wants to slam her head against her desk. Repeatedly. It’s like they’re actively trying to make her feel as single as possible.
It’s Changbin’s jumper.
Chaeryeong knows because it says his name, Seo Changbin—서창빈—in big, white letters right across the back. And Jisung is wearing it, as proud as the day is long. Changbin, the little shit, keeps sending him side glances every so often, gaze flicking between Jisung and the jumper then darting away before Jisung can catch the small smirk on his face.
Holy heck, they’re insufferable.
How does no one else see this? It’s like a giant, seismic red sign is hanging over their heads. (Heh, seismic. Take that, Professor Choi. Chaeryeong remembers all about earthquakes.)
Deciding against ceasing to exist out of spite, she draws her attention back to Professor Tuan just in time to hear about Utzon’s resignation from the Opera House project. All that money, for a concert hall no one even liked. Or heard anything in.
Of course, it’s right at the point that Chaeryeong has resigned herself to her horrid fate of knowledge, that it all comes crashing down around her.
Fucking shit, they queer baited her. (Except, nope, that isn’t a thing real people do.)
Class is over and there’s all milling around and Chaeryeong feels uneasy for no reason.
“Changbin-ah?”
This is normal. Miyeon (row E, seat 13) and Changbin are friends. Chaeryeong heard them talking about their music production class last week. What’s a little less normal is the hand she has on his forearm. Chaeryeong sees the way Jisung’s gaze narrows in on the point of contact.
“Noona,” greets Changbin with a smile. “Hi.”
Miyeon’s own smile widens in response, but there’s something more simmering there that Chaeryeong hasn’t seen before. Miyeon is nice and friendly with most people in class but this is something different, something more. She presses in a little closer and Changbin doesn’t notice (or doesn’t seem to mind) and Chaeryeong gets a sudden sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.
“I was thinking,” Chaeryeong overhears her say, and the next part gets lost as they move towards the door but Chaeryeong still hears clear as day when Miyeon asks if, “you and I should get coffee sometime, don’t you think, Bin? Just the two of us?”
Chaeryeong’s mouth goes dry.
A date, Miyeon just asked Changbin out on a date.
And Chaeryeong–
Chaeryeong is too far away to hear Changbin’s answer but it must be along the lines of “yes” or “that sounds fun” or “I’ll think about it” and not “sorry, I’m taken by my boyfriend who I’m totally in love with” because Jisung’s face is falling and oh god, Chaeryeong is such a fucking idiot.
How could she be so blind?
All this time, she had been so sure, because it was right there and no matter what Yeji said– crap, Yeji and Lia, they’d been right this whole time, it was just Chae and her wishful thinking and what in the world is she supposed to tell them now? She’s not sure if they can handle them saying I told you so and giving her that look where they’re all concerned and worried just like they are whenever she accidentally lets slip something about Ryujin.
No, she can’t think about Ryujin.
Not now.
Not when everything else has already gone so wrong.
“Chaeryeong-ah?”
Chaeryeong startles, looking up to see the classroom empty, save for Professor Tuan who's watching her carefully.
“Are you alright?”
“I–”
Yes? Maybe? She should be but she kind of feels like she’s about to pass out. It takes Chaeryeong a long, painful moment to realise that she’s holding her breath.
“I have to go,” she manages to say around the lump in her throat and promptly flees.
She should be fine, it doesn’t matter, it shouldn’t.
So why does her chest feel like it's caving in? Why is it so hard to breathe?
She ducks through an archway and just crumbles. Her back meets concrete and she slides down without registering what she’s doing. Her face is wet and fuck, when did she start crying? This is so dumb, this is all so stupid, what was she thinking–
Chaeryeong doesn’t even realise someone’s approaching until,
“Sorry to disturb you, but are you–”
And then a sharp intake of breath, and, “Chae? Chae, oh my god, what happened?”
Ryujin (what the heck, universe? Why are you doing this to her?) crouches down in front of her.
Chaeryeong doesn’t want to look up, doesn’t want Ryujin to see the state she’s in because this is all too much but Ryujin’s fingers slip around her wrists and gently tug her hands away from her face and like always, Chae is powerless to resist.
“Chae,” Ryujin says, so gently it almost brings fresh tears to Chaeryeong’s eyes. “What happened?”
“It’s–” Chaeryeong’s breath hitches. “It’s so d-dumb.” Something close to a sob slips out of her mouth.
“Talk to me,” and Ryujin’s voice is so calming, so steady, that Chae just blurts it out before she can stop herself.
“She asked him out.”
Ryujin’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who?”
“And Changbin, he said yes–”
“Wait–”
“And he should have said– said that he was– but he didn’t, because he’s not even though I thought that–” Fuck.
“Hold up, what is he not–”
But Chae has already started and she doesn’t know how to stop, because, “he said yes, or maybe, or I don’t know what he said but it wasn’t no, and Jisung’s face w-was–”
“Chae.” Ryujin’s palms cup her cheeks. “Slow down. You’re not making any sense, babe.”
Chaeryeong’s heart doesn’t even have enough energy to skip a beat at the nickname.
“Whoever this Changbin guy is, he doesn’t deserve your time.”
Chaeryeong begins to shake her head. “It’s not– I don’t like Changbin. Not like that.”
“But a girl asked him out?”
“Yeah.” It sounds dejected even to her own ears.
“And you’re sad about it?”
“I– I just–” She screws her eyes shut, ashamed. “I thought he was dating someone else.”
“Oh.”
“I’ve been such a fool.”
“Chae–”
“I know, I know it’s so stupid, and it shouldn’t even matter and real people queer baiting isn’t a thing, but they always acted like a couple and Jisung looked so sad, and I don’t even know why I’m crying. I just, I wanted them to–” She bites her lip.
Ryujin brushes a thumb over her cheek and it’s too much.
“They were supposed to be happy. They’re painfully cute and they’re so gone for each other, I can see it every time they look at each other and if they’re not together– If they’re so perfect for each other and they’re not even together, then what does that mean for the rest of us? It has to be possible, right? To fall–”
Chaeryeong’s heart squeezes and her breath catches but if she’s already said this much, there’s no going back.
“To fall in love with your best friend–”
Ryujin goes still.
“–And not break your own heart.”
There it is.
The answer to Yuna’s question. The reason Chaeryeong cares so much.
And she just admitted it to the one person who wasn’t ever supposed to find out.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. There’s no fight left in her anymore. A tear slips down her cheek.
The silence drags on and on, building in her chest like a deadweight, like Chaeryeong has just ruined everything good in her life and there’s no going back. She’s just forced to watch it burn in front of her. The silence grows, ready to suffocate them both.
“You– you’re kidding me right,” there’s something indescribable in Ryujin’s voice.
Chaeryeong screws her eyes shut and feels her chest start to cave in. “I’m sorry, I’m sor–”
But then, Ryujin’s hand presses under her chin, impossibly gentle. Chae finds the courage to open her eyes. The sight of Ryujin has Chae’s heart clenching in preparation.
“Lee Chaeryeong.”
Thump.
“I am.”
Thump.
“Hopelessly.”
Thump.
“Stupidly.”
Thump.
“In love with you.”
Chaeryeong’s heart—pounding ruthlessly just a second ago—stops.
Everything inside of her feels frozen in anticipation, like her body just drew in a breath and is holding it tight and,
“Ryu.”
It’s not a question or a statement, at this point it’s nothing more than a plea, but Ryujin must hear it all the same because she leans in, breath fanning across Chae’s cheeks and she’s so close, so close.
“Tell me I’m reading this right,” Ryujin whispers.
Chaeryeong closes the gap and crashes their mouths together.
It’s nothing like she’s ever dreamed of.
It’s more.
Their first date (date!!!) is over an extra large order of fries—because greasy diner food is always their go-to after crying—and Chaeryeong can’t stop smiling. She misses her afternoon class (because screw you, Professor Choi) and the one after that (just because she can). Ryujin feeds her a fry and smears ketchup on her cheek and there’s nowhere else in the world Chae would rather be.
(“I wish I had known.”
Chaeryeong looks up from her milkshake. “Known what?”
“That you…” Ryujin trails off. “How long have you–”
Chaeryeong smiles softly. It feels so easy to talk about now. “I’ve liked you since O-Week,” she confesses. “The falling in love part just kind of happened along the way.” Maybe before Chae would have taken that secret to the grave, held onto it so tight it never saw a dash of sunlight. But here, in the space they’ve carved out for themselves, with Ryujin’s confession still sitting warm and tingling on Chae’s mouth, everything feels easier. Safer.
“I’m so sorry for hurting you.”
“But you didn’t.” Chaeryeong reaches out to take her hand. “Ryu, you didn’t know.”
The pained looked in Ryujin’s face doesn’t leave. Her face is turned down, eyes locked on her straw. “But I should have, I should have known. All those times when I pushed you away, I could have–” Ryujin’s hand tightens around hers. “I never want to be the one who breaks your heart, Chae.”
Chaeryeong is shaking her head before Ryujin even finishes. “I was the one who gave it to you without even asking if you wanted it.” A wry smile works its way onto her mouth. “You had no reason to hold on to it.”
“I had every reason,” Ryujin whispers, finally lifting her gaze to lock with Chaeryeong’s. “I had every reason to because it’s you, Chae, it’s you. I was so caught up in my own head, worried that you were going to hate me for liking you and ruining our friendship. But it’s you, you love me, and god, I’m going to make sure you get your happy ending if it’s the last thing I do.”
Chaeryeong wants to believe Ryujin, wants to believe it so badly, but she can’t help but think back to Jisung’s face that morning, the way he’d drawn back, expression gone cold. “Is it possible?”
This time she gets a smile in response. Ryujin’s eyes shine bright. “I’ll prove it.”)
When she and Ryujin walk into their next movie night hand-in-hand, it’s to the sound of hoots and hollers and a “freaking finally!” from Yuna. Chaeryeong decides all of her friends are losers and happily accepts the hug Lia squeezes them both in.
The next time Chaeryeong walks into class, she doesn’t notice anything odd at first glance. Which is strange because she’s amazing at Spot the Difference.
Granted, Chae is a little distracted by the ‘no, i miss YOU more’ text battle she’s having with Ryujin.
But when she looks up again, it takes a long second for her brain to catch up. There’s a sinking sensation in her stomach. Usually there’s some type of warning, no? Right before someone screws with the universe. Some sign of deja vu to let you know that the Matrix has been messed with and needs to be fixed like this second.
Han Jisung is sitting in her row.
Han Jisung is sitting in her row.
This was definitely not in the instruction manual.
It takes Chaeryeong an embarrassing amount of time to get her legs to work again. With all her effort used up, the only thing her brain comes up with is,
“Um. Hi?”
Jisung startles. He’s certainly not sitting up here for the superior view because until now, his gaze has been locked on his hands. He jerks up to look at her.
“Oh, hi.” He looks as nervous as she does when meeting new people. “I’m Jisung. Sorry about this. It’s okay that I sat here, right? I can move–”
“No,” she rushes to say, “No, you’re fine. I’m Chaeryeong, it’s nice to meet you.” Chae hopes her expression emulates welcoming-ness and friendliness and not her default awkwardness setting. He just surprised her and… her gaze is drawn to the front of the room (row B to be exact) and the empty seat next to Changbin.
Jisung turns away.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.
“What for?”
“I–”
But she’s cut off by Professor Tuan starting class. (Probably for the best. She’s not actually sure what she was going to say and her brain isn’t great at improvisation.)
Class is strange.
There’s no tally marks for making her feel single today—and not just because she isn’t very single anymore.
Instead, tension clogs the air like a bad gas leak.
Chaeryeong isn’t sure if he realises he’s doing it but every few minutes Jisung’s note-taking pauses. From the corner of her eye, she sees his gaze drift away from their professor as his grip on his pen tightens; white-knuckled, like the clench people’s hands do when they’re trying to stop themselves from reaching out.
She doesn’t need to wonder for long who he’s looking at. Because here’s the thing:
Once Jisung looks to Changbin, she’s just waiting for the other foot to fall. For Newton’s third law to take its course, for the tide to return to the shore.
Changbin shifts in his seat and looks back.
In the moment Changbin and Jisung lock eyes, time grabs her breaks and pulls.
Chaeryeong has never seen them look at each other this intensely. She can’t miss the way they both look like they’ve been caught red-handed, or that they both dart away ashamed, when the moment is finally broken.
She thinks it’s over but ten minutes later, Jisung’s hand stills again and move for move it happens again, as if this is a dance they’ve practised. Over and over, they twist and twirl just outside of each other’s reach, and by the end of it Chaeryeong is damn near ready to choke on the pure longing permeating the room.
Chae is done assuming things but she knows what Longing looks like (capital L and all). She and Longing are old friends. She knows Longing like she knows the worn floorboards of her childhood home, the pattern of the woodwork, which steps creak, which groan.
And yes, before she had been too quick to judge. She’d been easily fooled because she was looking for her fairytale in someone else’s story.
But this here: the look in their eyes, the cord that runs between them, calling and reaching out for the other—it feels tangible in a way her wishful thinking never had.
Their class break rolls around and Jisung looks like someone just kicked his puppy and then stole his wallet. Which Chaeryeong can totally relate to because someone stole her bag in her first semester and cleared out her wallet and it was a pain in her ass to get administration to replace her student card.
Jisung looks just like she did, a little hopeless and a lot lost, and she realises she’s never really seen him look sad before. Not that she’s spent ample amounts of time with him, but she’s seen him nervous and excited and she’s definitely seen him happy. But she’s never seen him look sad.
It reminds her of herself in more ways than one.
“Hey Jisung-ssi,” she says softly. He still startles though, gaze ripping away from the second row. “Are you alright?”
For one long moment, he just blinks at her. Then, “I-” His pause lasts a beat too long. “I’m fine,” he says, even though the lilt of his voice makes it sound like a question.
She twists her hands together. Chaeryeong has never been great at not just blurting things out. She tries to be as gentle as she can. “You know, it would be okay if you weren’t.”
Jisung looks like his throat is tight. “What do you mean?”
“I just…” And this time when her gaze drifts to the front of the room, she does it on purpose. Chae draws in one last breath of courage. “Take this with a grain of salt if I’m wrong or overstepping. But I want you to know that I understand the whole pining after your best friend thing. I know how painful it is.”
When she looks across at him, Jisung is staring at her, shocked.
“I’m saying that it’s okay if you’re hurting,” she says gently, hoping he can hear her sincerity. “If you’re not fine, it’s okay. Believe me, I get it.”
That seems to break him out of his daze because Jisung begins to shake his head. “He’s just– I’m not pining. Changbin’s my friend. He’s– he’s my best friend.”
She could end it here. She should.
But,
“Are you sure he’s just that?”
“Of course,” he answers too quickly, “best friends, all the way. Totally. He’s my bestest bro, my dude, my– um.” (Yuna would be having a field day right now.) Jisung sucks in a breath, then with an almost pained look he says, “Yes, I’m sure. He’s my best friend.”
Chaeryeong watches him for a moment.
“Well,” she says, a small smile toying at her mouth. “You could have fooled me.”
She lets the silence pool between them for a moment because she allows herself one last leap.
“You know,” she says, “happy endings are real.”
It doesn’t surprise her for a second when Jisung bites back, mask cracking, “Says who?”
“Says me.”
The palpable confidence in her voice surprises even her.
“I was– I am in love with my best friend.” It’s so easy to admit now. “I was in love with her for a whole year before I told anyone. It was terrifying and lonely because it wasn’t like I could rant about it to my best friend or anything. I was so scared of her finding out and being disgusted because we were supposed to be just friends and I’d ruined it by letting feelings get in the way.”
“So?” Jisung tries to say.
“Avoiding it can only last for so long. That fear, the loneliness, it gets so heavy to hold up, you know? But it doesn’t have to be that way. It isn’t hopeless.” Chae looks him right in the eyes. “Last week, I told my best friend that I was in love with her.”
Jisung’s eyebrows shoot into his fringe.
Chae waits.
After a long moment, because he’s brave—there’s a special kind of bravery you need to fall in love with your best friend—Jisung finally asks the question. “What did she do?”
Chaeryeong smiles. She’s ready to be his fairytale for a change. “She told me she loved me too. That she had been scared. That this whole time we’d be running in circles when the answer was right before us. I loved her, and she loved me.”
“Happy ever after,” Jisung whispers, so quietly she doesn’t think it’s meant for her.
He sniffs softly and she averts her gaze as he wipes at his cheek.
“I miss him,” Jisung confesses. “Not talking to him is horrible.”
“So talk to him.”
“I can’t. What if I say the wrong thing? Just because you guys worked out, doesn’t mean it works out for everyone.” And his voice doesn’t crack this time but it’s resigned. Small.
“No,” she agrees. “It doesn’t. But then again, there’s no guarantee that it will always end badly. That’s why you jump.” And hope they catch you.
“I can’t–” Jisung’s breath hitches. “I don’t think we’re like you and I can’t lose him. No matter what. Nothing is worth losing him.”
Chae wants to tell him that he doesn’t need to worry, that she can’t see a future in which Changbin leaves him. She wants to tell Jisung about how he and Changbin look at each other, tell him about fondness and matching phone cases and sharing your space with someone else.
But they’ve already fooled her once and that just proved how little she really knew. Jisung doesn’t deserve a promise she can’t keep. She settles for the next best thing.
“For what it’s worth,” she murmurs, just as Professor Tuan is signalling from them to start up class again, “I don’t think it’s unrequited.”
Jisung doesn’t reply but she hadn’t expected him to.
No more is exchanged for the rest of class and as soon as Professor Tuan clicks off his last slide, Jisung is already standing up. He’s out the door before anyone can say another word.
Out of the corner of her eye, Chaeryeong catches Changbin’s expression.
For a guy Jisung thinks ‘isn’t like her’, he sure does do the Longing Face™ pretty well.
Jisung isn’t there the following week.
The minutes before class drag by, a grim countdown.
Each time the door opens, Changbin jumps. And each time it’s not the person he’s hoping for, Changbin’s expression falls. It’s a horrible, heartbreaking game of Guess Who with no winners.
Two kids are late to class; neither of them are Jisung.
Changbin spends their whole mid-class break staring at the empty seat beside him. He looks just as lost as Jisung had in Chaeryeong’s row F.
Chaeryeong is in the middle of unsuccessfully multi-tasking (trying to text Lia about where to meet while packing up from class) when she hears someone call her name.
She looks up to see who it is and she promptly drops her phone. And her books. And her pencil, the little shit slipping into the narrow gap in the chairs.
“Crap, I’m sorry,” says Changbin. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Um.”
Holy shit. Changbin is talking to her. Why is Changbin talking to her? Quick, say something. Say something!
“Hi?”
Perfect.
(Said no one ever.)
“Hi,” Changbin replies back, like she’s not being an awkward, crazy person. He’s knelt down to pick up her books and phone—farewell pencil, you will be missed—and is now holding them out to her. She takes them, fumbling only a little. “You’re Chaeryeong, right?”
“Yeah.” There’s no way she can mess up her own name. “That’s me.”
“I’m Changbin.”
I know, she thinks but doesn’t say. She settles for a nod instead.
Changbin hesitates, hand raking through his hair.
“Look,” he starts. Then abruptly stops.
He draws in a breath and lets it go slowly. Changbin looks like the type to actually listen to those meditation poses at the end of pilates—relax your mind, connect with your inner being.
“I wanted to ask you about Jisung,” he finally says. “I– I hope I’m not bothering you, but I noticed you two talking the other week and it’s none of my business but he won’t answer any of my calls or text me back and I don’t know what to do. I just… I need to know if he’s okay, even if he won’t talk to me.” He looks up at her like she holds all the answers to the universe. “Did he say anything last week?”
Oh boy, did he.
“We– um. We talked, here and there.”
“You did?” Changbin’s expression is equal parts hope and worry. “Did he, uh, seem okay?”
“Oh. I’m not sure,” she answers truthfully, and watches as the worry drowns out the hope. “He– he was quieter than I usually see him.” The because he’s usually with you she leaves out.
“Yeah,” Changbin says, sounding just as dejected as Jisung had. “I wish,” he cuts himself off with a huff. “I wish I knew what I did wrong. Then I would know how to fix it.”
Chaeryeong just watches him for a long moment, wondering if this is how others used to see her. If this is what she was like from the outside looking in.
“I’m sorry,” Changbin says when her silence must have stretched for too long, “I didn’t mean to bother you with all this, I’ll–”
“Changbin-ssi?”
He freezes. “Yeah?”
For a long moment, Chae turns the words over on her tongue. All of them say too much, none of them say just enough. Until,
“He misses you.”
Changbin’s eyes widen and it’s there, right there. The look, the fondness that started this all. “I miss him too.”
It’s a confession not meant for her but she’s here nonetheless. His witness. Sometimes that’s all you need; someone to hear you.
“I’m sure you guys will be okay,” she tells him and that hope which she thought Changbin had lost starts to sneak back into his expression.
Even if he doesn’t feel the same as Jisung, Chaeryeong thinks they’ll be able to work it out. It doesn’t look like Changbin is thinking of leaving anytime soon.
“Your heater sucks.”
Chaeryeong doesn’t even bother glancing up from her sketch. “Then go to your own room, loser.”
“That’s so much effort,” Yuna whines back.
“You live four doors down from me.”
“But my roommate is there.”
Chae’s eyebrows shoot up. “You love Jiwoo though.”
“Yeah, but–”
“You wouldn’t stop talking about the cookies she baked last week.”
“Okay, they were so good though–”
“And she lets you steal all her blankets.”
“It’s not my fault she has the best blankets!”
Chaeryeong glares at Yuna. Yuna glares back.
The staring contest lasts almost for a whole minute until Yuna finally caves.
“She’ll make me study.”
Chae is immune to pouting. Yuna’s pout especially. “Because you have a test tomorrow, dumbass.”
“It’s Econ though! I aced my last Econ test.”
“You aced it because you studied! With Jiwoo!”
Yuna lets out her best put-upon sign. At this point, she’s almost perfected it. “Your heater still sucks though.”
“I know,” Chae says with a grin. It’s the perfect excuse to cuddle. (Ryujin totally sees through her every single time but she doesn’t care. Cuddling is one of her favourite things ever, only beaten out by cuddles-with-Ryujin.)
Yuna huffs and throws a sock at her, which means Chaeryeong is totally wearing her sappy face. Sue her, she doesn’t care. She drinks her ‘I love my girlfriend juice’ religiously.
“Go home, loser.”
Yuna does, although not before stealing a whole pack of gummy bears from Chae’s not-so-secret stash.
“Give those back, you thief!”
“You’ll never catch me alive!”
As usual, Chaeryeong arrives early for class next Thursday.
Unlike usual, she’s not alone.
Changbin looks up at the sound of the door. He looks… nervous. Not the bad, oh my god the world’s going to end or I forgot we had a quiz nervous though. It looks closer to anticipation, the one you get before your favourite band releases a song or in that split second before a firework explodes.
Then the door behind her opens again and the anticipation ramps up to one thousand percent.
She doesn’t need to look to know who it is. Changbin’s face says it all.
“Jisung-ah.”
Everything has gone so still that you can hear the shake in Changbin’s voice around the edge of each vowel. He gets to his feet.
When she turns, Chaeryeong sees Jisung frozen in the doorway.
“Don’t go.”
Chae holds her breath.
“Please,” Changbin begs and it gets Jisung to look up at him. “I just want to talk,” he says, soft and sweet and crap, Chaeryeong shouldn’t be here but she’s too afraid to move for fear of disrupting the hope shining in Changbin’s expression. “Please, Sung. Talk to me.”
Jisung’s lips quiver. “I… There’s nothing to talk about.” The lie sounds hollow in his mouth.
“If I did something wrong,” Changbin starts to say, taking a step forward.
“You didn’t, there’s nothing wrong,” Jisung’s next breath catches in his throat. “It’s me, it’s all me–”
“What’s all you?”
“This whole,” Jisung rakes a hand through his hair, “this whole mess! I need to…” But the words unravel before they make it out of his mouth.
“Sung–”
“I can’t–”
“I didn’t even–”
“Hyung, I can’t do this with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I– I–”
“Stop avoiding me.”
“I’m not avoiding you!”
“You are!”
“I can’t be around you!”
The room goes cold.
“It hurts too much,” Jisung whispers.
Changbin’s expression splits right down the middle.
“I never meant for it to get this bad,” Jisung says, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, I thought it was something I could get over—this, me wanting more than I’m supposed thing—but then I see you again and you’re so perfect and you remember my coffee order and I can’t stop wishing there was a different ending for us.” Tears have started to gather in his eyes. “So maybe we should have some space, just for a little while, so I’ll be able to get over it and we can go back to normal and–”
Changbin finds his voice, “Jisung.”
“And I won’t be weird about it,” Jisung says, desperate now as the words race out at top speed. “I promise, I’ll be normal, and if you want to go out with Miyeon again, I won’t mind.”
“Go out– what?”
“I swear, I won’t make it weird! Just.” The next breath seems to take all of Jisung’s strength. “Please, just let me be your friend still. Even if you hate me, I can’t lose you.”
Changbin looks like he’s just been suckerpunched. In the chest.
“In what universe could I ever hate you?”
“But–”
“No, stop it. I could never hate you. Not ever. You–” Changbin blinks hard and Chaeryeong realises he’s holding back tears too. “You are my favourite person and if you’re saying what I think you’re saying… That you…”
“Yes? No.” Jisung’s throat bobs. “Maybe?”
And then, he leaps.
“I’m in love with you.”
(If this was a movie, the heavens would be opening up right about now, sunlight streaming down as the angels prepare to sing—though, Chaeryeong thought privately; Changbin’s current expression embodies the feeling even better than the heavens could.)
“I’m sorry,” Jisung whispers, as his tears finally spill over. “I can get over it.”
“And if I don’t want you to?”
“Don’t say things like that,” mourns Jisung and Chaeryeong feels her heart break for him.
“Things like what,” asks Changbin, but it isn’t really a question because the sunlight—the relief, the daring hope—isn’t gone from his expression yet, because, “it’s always been you,” he says. “Jisung, I love you.”
There it is.
Chaeryeong knew fools gold couldn’t shine this bright.
Changbin reaches Jisung just as the door opens behind them.
It’s Jisoo who peaks round the door, surprise colouring her face as she takes in the scene.
Jisung and Changbin with their matching teartracks, bodies curved towards each other like beacons finally returning home. Chaeryeong to the side, hand clutched onto her bag, a little misty-eyed herself.
“Maybe we should,” Changbin starts to say, or perhaps it’s Jisung, but they both reach for each other at the same time and with one final look (brimming over with happiness, so, so much happiness) they’re gone.
For a long second, the only sound is the door swaying shut behind them.
But then Jisoo turns to her, eyes wide. “Oh my god, those two! Who would've guessed that?!”
Chaeryeong throws her head back and laughs.
chae
all hail me
goddess of love
and matchmaking
i have found my calling
i am unstoppable
[9:07am]
lia unnie (✿◠‿◠)
that’s nice, honey xx
[9:07am]
yeji shi
i’m not awake enough for this yet
[9:07am]
agent of chaos
chae gets one (1) girlfriend and suddenly thinks she’s aphrodite
[9:07am]
chae
UH
RUDE
and that’s not what i meant
although i AM a fantastic girlfriend
[9:08am]
loml ♥
damn right, babe
[9:08am]
chae
<33
anyway
i was talking about changbin and jisung
[9:08am]
lia unnie (✿◠‿◠)
who?
[9:08am]
chae
the guys from my modern architecture class
[9:09am]
agent of chaos
not this again
please, chae
whatever parasocial relationship you’ve got going on with these dudes
it’s not real
[9:09am]
chae
SO U THINK
and get off twitter, loser
[9:10am]
agent of chaos
no <3
[9:10am]
chae
it’s not parasociety or whatever ur on
they’re very much in love
i saw it with mine own eyes
[9:10am]
agent of chaos
oh no
she’s started seeing things
is it too late to get u help??
[9:11am]
chae
AASHDHJK
LET ME LIVE, LOSER
i’m not seeing things
or projecting
[9:11am]
yeji shi
(this time)
[9:12am]
chae
mean </3
how’d u get someone as nice as lia unnie to fall for u??
[9:12am]
yeji shi
seduction
my dashing good looks
my extensive knowledge on the life cycles and habits of bees
[9:13am]
loml ♥
just say you’re a bee furry and move on
[9:13am]
yeji shi
i hope both sides of your pillow are warm <3
[9:14am]
chae
I’M moving on
guys
i swear on yuna’s life, it really did happen
they confessed to each other before class started
turns out they’ve been repressed besties this whole time :,,,,,)
WHICH! DOESN’T! MAKE! THEM! DUDEBROS! DON’T YOU DARE SAY IT YUNA
they were just too scared to admit their feelings
and holy heck, there was much crying
but it was so sweet and beautiful
heart warming
life changing
11/10
second best confession in the world
[9:15am]
Because Changbin and Jisung’s confession was one of the most romantic things she’s ever seen but nothing ever will beat Ryujin’s, which belongs to Chae and Chae alone. She will cherish it right up until the day she dies, and right through to whatever comes after. The confession—the one they’d shared—has woven itself into Chae’s very being; an imprint on her mouth, the slope of her collarbone, the curve of her ribs.
chae
tldr; they’re totally whipped for each other
and i was right
in the end
pls never question me again
[9:16am]
lia unnie (✿◠‿◠)
aww that’s so sweet
i’m happy for them
[9:17am]
agent of chaos
pics or it didn’t happen
[9:17am]
loml ♥
ur a menace
[9:18am]
agent of chaos
no need to flatter me
i’m glad chae isn’t going crazy
[9:18am]
loml ♥
i’m glad i don’t have to fight changbin for your love <33
[9:18am]
chae
in no universe would you have to, babe <3
i got my own best friend to pine eternally after
[9:18am]
(She is half of my soul, as the poets like to say.)
loml ♥
i love you too, baby <3
[9:19am]
yeji shi
and with THAT
i’m going back to bed
i’m happy ur comfort ship is real, chae
u had lia worried about you there for a moment
now don’t wake me up again until 2pm
not even if it’s an emergency
[9:19am]
chae
this is why lia is my favourite unnie
[9:19am]
yeji shi
old news, lia is everyone’s favourite unnie
[9:20am]
lia unnie (✿◠‿◠)
i’m flattered <33
[9:20am]
agent of chaos
wait so no one got queer baited
[2:01pm]
chae
YUNA FOR THE LAST TIME
[2:06pm]
The next day, Chaeryeong has two new friend requests on Instagram.
Jisung’s most recent post is a selfie of him and Changbin in the mirror of what looks like a dance studio. Changbin’s arm is wrapped around Jisung’s waist, chin hooked over his shoulder. The caption reads: i jumped <3. All of the comments are filled with hearts and congratulations but up top is Changbin’s, simple and sweet: i’ll always catch you <3.
When she clicks on his profile, Changbin’s most recent post is Jisung with a puppy.
Chaeryeong follows them both back on the spot.
The end of exam season brings a palpable, infectious energy. When Yeji makes it out of her last business exam, they’re all there to congratulate her and promptly drag her to their favourite bar for half-priced drinks. (Tuesday student discounts are the best.)
Their collective hangover lasts roughly two and a half days, most of them spent watching movies and eating their weight in popcorn and frozen mango cubes. Note to self: do not watch Big Hero 6 while emotionally unstable. Tadashi Hamada deserved better.
The five of them pull themselves back into the land of the living just in time for the music department’s showcase on Friday night. None of them major in any type of music production but Yeji’s brother’s friend Bang Chan—who, like Yugyeom, seems to know practically everyone—is having some type of performance so they’re all going to cheer him on.
As usual, Lia takes forever to get ready and Yuna is rooting around under Yeji’s bed for a pair of shoes that, “you definitely stole, Yeji! I saw you wearing them last week!”
As usual, Chaeryeong and Ryujin end up ditching them to head off early.
The walk through campus is peaceful now that there’s no more sleep-deprived students dashing around, trailing textbooks and quiz sheets behind them. Instead Ryujin fills the quiet by making up constellations and very seriously pointing each one out for Chae—ah yes, as you can see this pattern of stars is clearly a lilypad for that froggy over there.
With Ryujin’s fingers tangled around hers, the campus feels familiar and new all at once.
Here is the hall she had her Architecture lectures in, over there is an old oak tree Chaeryeong can’t wait to kiss Ryujin under for the first time. To her left is her least favourite library, to her right is the archway they confessed to each other in.
Everything she knows is right here within her reach, and everything else is just outside of her grasp—not unreachable but a promise of more to come.
They hear the music building before they see it. A steady bass hums through the courtyard which has students milling all around. The music department’s showcase is more of an excuse to throw a party rather than anything else and everyone knows it (including the teachers). Inside is filled with even more people, a bunch carrying instrument cases.
Ryujin and Chaeryeong must have been walking slowly, or Yuna had convinced the others to use one of her shortcuts, because Chae spots their friends over in a corner, chatting away. Yeji somehow already has her brother in a headlock, Hyunjin laughing as she shakes him.
“Chaeryeong?”
The call has her twisting around. It takes her a second to spot them and– No way!
“Jisung?”
“Hi!” Chae’s not surprised in the least to see Changbin by his side. She stopped being surprised back in Week 3. “It’s good to see you!”
“You too,” she tells him. She sees Jisung’s gaze fall to her and Ryujin’s still intertwined hands and feels her matching grin widen. “This is Ryujin, my girlfriend.”
“And best friend,” Ryujin adds, in that fond, teasing tone that makes Chaeryeong's heart feel all syrupy and warm.
“And best friend,” she affirms, watching Jisung’s eyes gleam with recognition.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” he says. “I’m Jisung.”
“We all do Modern–”
“Architecture,” Ryujin finishes for her. “Which makes you Changbin.”
The looks she pins Changbin with has Chae elbowing her in the ribs, much to Changbin’s confused amusement. “Please ignore her. What brings you guys here?”
“Our friend is performing tonight,” Changbin tells them. “We were actually just looking for him before we ran into you both.”
“There they are!” Jisung points.
She follows his gaze and of course, of course it’s the huddle of Lia, Yuna and the still bickering Yeji and Hyunjin except now the group’s grown double in numbers.
“You’re friends with Bang Chan?”
“Yep! Since high school, actually. Still haven’t managed to get rid of him.” Jisung’s put-upon sigh is almost as good at Yuna’s.
Changbin rolls his eyes. “He’s your favourite.”
“Innie’s my favourite.”
“Second favourite.”
“Nope, that’s Felix.”
“Third?”
“Minho.”
“You have too many favourites.”
Jisung giggles. “I was lying anyway—they all come second after you.”
Changbin’s smile goes soft. You, sir, are Whipped, she thinks to herself. Honestly a much better look on him than all that Unresolved Longing. “Let’s go say hi before Chan has his stage,” Changbin deflects, though there’s no hiding his blush.
They concede all the same, the four of them making their way across the hall. Chaeryeong can hear Yuna’s laughter already.
“You were right,” Jisung mumurs to Chae when they both fall a little behind. His voice is quiet enough that she knows it’s just for her.
A grin catches at her mouth. “You might have to specify for me,” Chaeryeong says, knowing the answer already. “I’m right very often.”
His answering smile lights up his whole face. “Happy endings were always my favourite.”
The heavens nudge open their gates. “Mine too.”
So, the verdict for Seo Changbin (row B, seat 4) and Han Jisung (row B, seat 5; occasionally 4)?
Yeah.
Totally, head-over-heels-in-love type of dating.
At last.
[Case Closed.]