Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Please understand that by checking this list, you are potentially spoiling major parts of the story. However, I can't in good conscience not include warnings for people who want to read a story but have endured trauma and/or have legitimate phobias.

I will say now: this story does NOT contain any sexual violence.

When another girl in uniform walks into the restaurant, Nayeon doesn't recognize her. Though, funny enough, her first thought is something along the lines of:

If we'd met, I'd definitely remember.

As it so happens, she doesn't catch what comes out of her date's mouth.

"Sorry, repeat that for me," Nayeon says, and it's not a question. Nayeon's got her wrapped around her little finger and she knows it as she leans down, capturing the milkshake straw with her lips, watching the cute girl in the waitress uniform arrive for her shift.

"Y'know, people usually try to pay attention when they're on a date," Hani playfully snipes as she grabs the tapered bottom of the milkshake glass and pulls it towards her for a sip. She passes it back with a pinched smile on her face, a wordless sign she isn't actually bothered, but isn't going to miss an opportunity to give Nayeon shit.

"I said 'sorry,'" Nayeon half-whines, ruined with a giggle that broadens the smile on Hani's face.

After a brief pause where Nayeon catches Hani briefly checking her out--as if silently judging whether or not she's cute enough to "get away with" being a brat--she finally repeats herself.

"I said: 'I took the time to take pictures of all my clothes," Pregnant pause before she transitions to the more pertinent part of the conversation she's been trying to get to: "So why are you insisting on more shopping?'"

Nayeon shrugs, adjusting to sit more comfortably in her seat as she sips on the milkshake, going through Hani's phone.

"Would you rather be an outfit repeater?"

"A... What?"

Nayeon simply blinks up at her, wondering if Hani will catch her bluff.

"I thought that was a joke term..." Hani utters to no one in particular.

Still, Nayeon keeps sipping, still looking up at a perplexed Ahn Heeyeon as she visibly considers whether or not Nayeon is being serious.

"Do... people actually care about that kind of thing?"

Nayeon simply opts to look back at the phone, paging through the fast fashion site with no real intent of buying anything. Just to get ideas. It was Hani who made the assumption she was on it to get something new and she wasn't going to correct her.

Well, until the stress starts to show through the furrow in her date's brow. As usual, Hani mutters to herself as if she's having a conversation rather than just thinking out loud.

"I've worn that blazer like three times this week... and those slacks twice..."

"No," Nayeon says, trying and failing to mask her smile by keeping her lips wrapped around the straw but she knows it isn't working.

"Huh? 'No' what?"

"No, no one actually cares," Nayeon clarifies and once again she's treated to the fake-frustrated scrunch on Hani's face when she realizes she's been tricked. Not that she thinks she has any right to be angry--after all, she's the one who decided to be gullible.

"Well, I mean," Nayeon starts, taking the straw between thumb and index to idly stir, "Just because they don't care doesn't mean it doesn't matter."

The scrunch on Hani's face fades and she becomes more thoughtful.

"You're production manager now, right?" Nayeon asks, feeling a touch guilty for not remembering the exact job title. A hefty sigh leaves Hani, her shoulders going slack and for a moment Nayeon's guilt weighs so much heavier until Hani clarifies.

"Studio manager now," she softly corrects, making Nayeon's eyes go wide. She may not perfectly understand the hierarchy, but she does know that there had been... trouble at SDS Broadcasting. Trouble that had resulted in several lay-offs, and even more walk-outs. When she had first met Hani, she was a humble production assistant. Then she became lead producer within a couple of weeks. Now, hardly a year in, studio manager seems a bit...

"Picture it:" she starts, sitting upright, hands splayed over the booth table as if bracing herself for the mother of all stories about to part from her lips. Unconsciously Nayeon braces herself.

"I'm in the middle of getting disclosure agreements for this story--the one I told you about."

"Jog my memory," Nayeon says. She partially remembers, but truthfully, she just likes hearing Hani talk. And, she knows Hani loves to talk. So, even though she sees her half-scowl, Nayeon also still sees the smile underneath.

"The missing girl," Hani says, "Taiwanese, was part of that production company, FNH. The one that went belly-up so suddenly."

Even though Nayeon continues to hold Hani's phone, she makes a point to hold eye contact, intentionally showing her interest.

"Her friends have been looking for her the last three years after they got that cryptic message from her," Hani explains, "They were all in the same company. For a little bit, we thought maybe it was connected to the company because another older girl went missing. Though, after we looked into it, she's moved out of the country but has kept up contact with her parents while this other girl--the Taiwanese one--left no trace."

"What was the message?" Nayeon asks, and Hani opens her mouth to answer before closing it, brow furrowing again. After taking a few seconds to try and recall, she pulls her phone from Nayeon's hands and taps through a few things before reading aloud.

"Quote: 'One day I'll be gone, but please don't go looking for me.'"

This time it's Nayeon's brow that furrows and she stops stirring.

"What about her family...?"

Hani inhales sharply, exhaling in a sigh as she deflates back into her seat, sliding her phone back to Nayeon who knows the passcode already.

"She was adopted and only had a father and brother left. Her brother's supposedly left the country, and the father spoke to the press once and never again. Not that I can blame him. We've sent a couple inquiries, but it's been radio silent."

Something about that unsettles Nayeon and Hani reads her expression immediately.

"No, I know. It seems suspect on the surface, but you gotta keep in mind the guy lost his wife, his daughter allegedly ran away, and his son left shortly after. I wouldn't wanna talk either, and the police seemed to have cleared him of suspicion." There's another pause before Hani reluctantly continues, "I guess... she was a runaway risk from the start. Something about a... a rough upbringing or something."

Nayeon cants her head, fixing Hani with a curious look.

"But you don't buy it? Is that what I'm getting from your tone?"

Hani purses her lips, thinking for a moment before shrugging, "It's not about what I think. I never met the girl."

"The friends then?"

Hani turns her head, looking out the diner window and Nayeon steals a glance at the waitress again.

"They certainly think otherwise," Hani says and despite sitting across the booth from Nayeon, she sounds miles away. "They've been looking for her for over three years. Conducted large scale searches with volunteers, even managed to get a few police in with cadaver dogs."

Nayeon pushes the milkshake towards Hani in a bid to bring her back. To steal the heaviness from her voice and thoughts in exchange. She manages to get a half smile, which feels like a victory.

"Anyway, I got news shortly after arranging the disclosures for an interview that the studio manager wasn't coming back and they'd like me to temporarily fill his shoes."

"Just like that?!"

Hani shrugs a shoulder, "I don't know why I immediately accepted. I guess after talking to those girls about their missing friend... it made work seem a little less significant? I should have waited to clear my head before accepting the meeting, much less the position."

Again, Nayeon can see some of the sadness creep into Hani's expression, and this time she doesn't have a milkshake to offer.

"She would have been 19," Hani mutters and Nayeon tries to think of a distraction or a suitable subject change--until it really hits her.

"She should be in college..." Nayeon says softly, and she hates that it feels appropriate to talk about this stranger in past tense.

The two remain quiet for several seconds, punctuated only by the sound of Hani sucking up the melted dregs of their shared milkshake. She then sits upright and Nayeon can tell she's forcing a smile.

"Speaking of college," Hani says, surprising Nayeon, "Have you given anymore thought to taking some sewing classes?"

Nayeon lets out a soft scoff at the idea before asking: "Why?"

Hani shrugs, "Whether you wanna accept it or not, I'm pretty sure half the reason my employees--god it feels weird referring to them as mine--respect me is because I dress for the role. That's on you, y'know."

Nayeon purses her lips, trying again not to smile, but finding it difficult not to enjoy the praise a little.

"You look good in a pantsuit," Nayeon says with a shrug.

"Right, but I didn't know what colors bring out my eyes, or how I should fix up my hair so I don't look ridiculous when I'm wearing one," Hani shoots back, "I was being serious, y'know. If you can learn how to tailor, you've got the taste level to be styling idols or actors."

Nayeon can't help the laugh that escapes her before she asks: "You offering me a job?"

Smiling warmly, Hani simply shrugs.

Turning her attention back to Hani's phone, she opens the gallery and finishes picking Hani's outfit before pulling her own phone out as her date goes over her choices.

"Purple?" Hani incredulously wonders out loud.

Nayeon pulls up her conversation with Jihyo and nods, "Purple and blue are your colors."

Hani's expression becomes even more skeptical as she looks over her phone at Nayeon.

"I thought it was red..."

INy: hey u remember that sewing class thing

"Who are you gonna trust?" Nayeon asks, allowing herself to seem just a little cocky because she definitely knows the answer.

INy: can u get me the deets pls

⬡⬡⬡⬡⬡

For how much practice she's been doing, normally Mina would feel her exhaustion down to her very bones.

However, since receiving news that she would be debuting soon, she's felt as though she were floating just outside her own body. Trying to hold onto this gigantic secret among her peers has felt impossible--as though she were trying to mask something plainly printed on her forehead. She wants desperately to share her glee with another person, and with Momo and Jihyo now having left, she feels incredibly isolated.

I wonder what role I'll be asked to fill, she thinks as she slips down the stairs, noticing the picket line outside the window has grown since last she saw it. She lingers on the step landing between floors, looking at some of the familiar faces of SYP staff holding signs.

"It's gotten worse," she utters, and she finds herself quietly embarrassed for not fully understanding the terms of the strike. She'd even been told by remaining staff that it wasn't for her to concern herself with.

Though if they knew she was debuting, she wonders if they'd say anything different--or if that wasn't precisely part of the reason they didn't want her to know.

Whatever the case may be, it's not somethng she's going to concern herself with now.

Slipping through the door to the second floor, Mina moves as quietly as she can--though her footsteps sound so much louder with so few people to populate the halls of the building. Granted, that's also fewer people to catch her as she sneaks into the open closet where the employee lockers are.

There's one in the middle with a busted latch that the rest of the staff had simply chosen to ignore--but Mina knew how to force it open. Which happened to make this the ideal location for hiding caloric paraphrenalia.

... Cup noodle, mostly.

Pushing the latch up and grabbing the bottom of the door where it'd been bent, she's able to tug it open to slip her hand in and fetch one of her hidden cups. While this was an ideal hiding spot because nobody was going to look here for trainee goodies, it also spared her from being reprimanded when they did room searches. And, conveniently, the employee lockers and lounge are situated close to the entrance to the trainee dorms, making this smuggling endeavor all the easier.

Quietly opening and closing the door to the common room, she thinks the coast is clear until she hears a voice that makes her want to jump out of her skin.

"Oh hey!" Chaeyeon greets cheerfully and Mina has to remember not to cuss in Japanese since Chaeyeon's been so diligently studying the language lately.

"You scared me," Mina whispers, hand to her chest.

"Oh I'm sorry," Chaeyeon says, matching Mina's whispering.

Mina shakes her head and smiles sheepishly, "Is Haruna here?" she asks, still keeping her voice low.

Chaeyeon nods, still grinning, "She just got back from the clinic. I wouldn't tell her where you were practicing so she'd--wait, why are we still whispering?" Chaeyeon asks, still keeping her voice quiet.

"Oh," Mina says at normal volume, "I don't... I don't know."

Chaeyeon giggles, "Anyway! Runa's in her room. I wouldn't tell her where you're practicing because she needs the rest anyhow." She then gestures to the cup noodle in Mina's hand, "That for her?"

Mina nods, finally moving into the dorm's kitchenette with Chaeyeon to check the kettle.

"I've got some news to deliver that'll go over better with a full stomach," Mina says as she pours the water, trying to hint at what it could be. After she places a pair of chopsticks over the paper lid of the noodles, she looks back at Chaeyeon. Mina finds that Chaeyeon's lips aren't pursed so much as... sucked inward. Almost as if she'd eaten something unbearably sour.

Then it hits her.

"Wait..." Mina murmurs, eyes going wild. Vaguely, she gestures to Chaeyeon with an inquisitive look on her face and she's quick to nod enthusiastically.

"You too!?" Chaeyeon asks, still avoiding specifics because they both know better.

Without confirming, Mina brings both hands to her mouth, Chaeyeon quickly mimicking her because the two of them want to shriek in mutual delight. It was one thing to be chosen to debut, but it was always another thing entirely to get to debut with someone you're close to. Finding out Mina would be debuting with Chaeyeon of all people comes as an incredible relief.

Unable to contain her excitement, Chaeyeon bounces from one foot to the other before capturing Mina in a back-breaking hug. When she pulls back Mina becomes aware of the smile on her face that's already started to make her cheeks ache.

Clearing her throat, Mina picks up the cup noodle with the chopsticks and asks: "You said she's in her room?"

"Who? OH--Yeah. Yup. Sure is!"

Mina wants to laugh, but contains it and swiftly gets herself to the door leading into the youngest trainees' room. Filled with bunkbeds, she's able to spot Haruna's immediately. She'd done the thing Mina told her about when she was stuck in this room a couple years ago and created a sort of sheet-tent by stuffing the topsheet around the perimeter of the upper bunk. Though Haruna had even gone the extra mile and added string lights on the inside. Mina could always tell when she was "home" by checking to see if they were on.

And sure enough...

"Runa...?" Mina cautiously greets, hoping not to have caught the girl in a nap as she carefully peels back a corner of the curtain.

The 12 year old looks up at her, putting down her comic and grinning broadly. Her greeting first comes in Japanese--which they usually spoke--but then she repeats herself in Korean.

"Good afternoon," she says, remembering to use formal language with her senior.

"Does this mean you're still taking your Korean lessons seriously?" Mina asks before switching to Japanese to say: "I'm proud of you."

Immediately Haruna's face turns a shade of pink and Mina passes her the cup noodle before letting herself onto the bunk.

"My favorite?" Haruna asks, surprised by Mina's offering.

"How was your visit today?" Mina asks and some of the cheerfulness leaves Haruna's eyes.

"I'm tired again," she admits, "I used to love taking naps, but lately I'm taking too many."

Mina feels her nerve start to wither in her chest. Haruna had been a close companion. Like her seniors, Momo and Jihyo, Mina had tried hard to be a good influence on the younger members--especially fellow foreigners and those who aren't full Korean. Haruna in particular had been Mina's favorite. She'd struggled with her Korean, and with her frequent clinic visits, she'd occasionally fall behind her peers.

It hits her all at once that she won't be able to do this anymore--and with Haruna having only gotten home from another lengthy visit... The timing doesn't seem quite right.

Suddenly, she recalls how Haruna said that if she would get to debut that she'd take Mina out for fried tofu as thank you for all her extra help. For a moment, Mina thinks perhaps this could be her way of softly breaking the news.

"You know, it sounds like I'm going to have to take you out for fried tofu soon," she finally says, bracing herself for Haruna's reaction.

There's a second where she has to process what's been said, but the smile on her face suddenly grows and she asks--

"Why's that?"

Mina knows her expression falters, but she quickly gets a smile back on her face and answers.

"Be... cause... You've been working so hard!" she says, and it's not necessarily a lie. It's simply...

Not what she came here to say.

⬡⬡⬡⬡⬡

It feels nice to be on this side of things. A year ago, Nayeon had been the loser first-year on campus with the little arm band. Sitting near the water fountain in the campus courtyard, Nayeon patiently waits for her companions to make their way over. Standing around are other second, third and fourth years waiting to see the parade of first-years struggle to navigate the campus grounds.

It's both a form of hazing, but also something nostalgic for the senior students who all recall being in the shoes of the first years not that long ago. The looks of awe, delight, fear, confusion--it's all very endearing.

Spying Jihyo and Momo rounding the corner after sitting through their orientation, Nayeon can't help the grin that overtakes her face as they look around in bewilderment.

"Congrats on enrolling," Nayeon calls out as she gets up to close the gap between them.

"Tell her that, not me," Momo says flatly and Nayeon notices the absence of the first-year arm band all the new students were forced to wear for the first month.

"They fail you out already?!" Nayeon asks, getting a guffaw of a laugh out of Jihyo in response.

"Yeah, the professors already gave up on her," Jihyo jokes, only to get elbowed by a smirking Momo.

"I work for SYP now," Momo clarifies, and Nayeon whistles low.

"Already? Doing what?" Nayeon asks, choosing to walk alongside the pair--though she's certain neither of them have a clue where they're going.

"Trainee bully--I mean, choreographer," Jihyo answers for Momo, who gives her another elbow. This time enough to earn a quiet ow.

"They agreed to waive my trainee debt if I'd come to work for them for a while," Momo clarifies.

Nayeon makes a thoughtful noise before asking: "Do you think it has to do with the SDS acquisition?"

Momo shrugs, "Probably. They're debuting a new group soon and I've heard most of the choreographers are remaining in solidarity with the strikers."

"They might wanna reconsider," Nayeon says softly, "From what I've heard, the ink is already dry on the SDS contract."

"You hear that from your girlriend?" Momo jabs, causing Nayeon to roll her eyes.

"She's not my girlfriend," Nayeon shoots back, "But yes. She's the new studio manager."

"Hell, sounds like if I'd left on better terms, I coulda gotten a job too," Jihyo mutters, "Then again, is it a good idea to hire a trainee that's never taught a class to take over choreo?"

Momo narrows her eyes, "I dunno, is it a good idea for someone who can't cook to open a restaurant?" she asks Jihyo pointedly.

Jihyo mirrors her expression, "You don't need to know how to cook to know how to run a restaurant. You just gotta be good at everything else."

"Yeah? And what're you gonna do if your cook calls out?" Momo asks.

Jihyo shrugs, "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. I'll figure it out!"

This earns another scoff out of Momo, but prompts a question out of Nayeon: "What about your mom's restaurant? You prepping to take over or something?"

"Not exactly," Jihyo answers, pausing long enough to lift her purse up to rifle through it, eventually pulling a flier out to hand to Nayeon before continuing: "Ideally I'd like to open my own, get it off the ground and eventually take over my mom's when she feels like retiring."

"That still doesn't answer what you're gonna do on days your cook calls out when you can't so much as fry an egg," Momo says, shaking her head.

"And you still haven't answered how you're gonna manage to teach an army of trainees when you've never taught a class in your life!" Jihyo argues back.

"I'll figure it out!" Momo mocks.

⬡⬡⬡⬡⬡

The failure to level with Haruna manages to bring Mina back into her own body. It feels much like her defeat lives in her chest shamefully. She knows she'll need to talk to her eventually about her debut, though she also briefly considers if she could maybe somehow manage to balance idol activities and spending time with Haruna.

... Until she recalls the life of one of the senior SYP boy groups, and how even one of the less popular members needed a personal manager to call his grandmother to wish her a happy birthday because he could hardly spare the breath to do it himself. She knows she can't spread herself too thin. She can't be everyone's hero, try as she might.

Though there would be one unavoidable confrontation there would be no backing out of or putting off.

Mina had chosen to meet Momo at a nearby coffee shop. Though she also wonders if maybe it would have been better to do this in one of the quieter wings of the SYP building instead.

She recognizes a moment later that she's psyching herself out by thinking about it and shakes the thought. This was going to happen whether she's stuck in public or not.

But, then, whatever nerve she'd managed to conjure is swiftly reduced to crumbs when Momo steps through the door. She watches her look for her and hesitates to wave to get her attention because she really doesn't want it.

Though tragically, she remembers a time when she only ever wanted Momo's attention. It feels a lifetime ago, unfortunately.

She sees Momo's face light up, and in her head, she's begging her not to smile. Begging her not to be happy to see her.

"Hey," Momo greets, and there's subtle apprehension there. Maybe she'd caught onto Mina.

"Hey," Mina returns and she feels tense. Awkward.

"Everything okay?" Momo finally asks and Mina wants to jump out the window.

"Yeah, I'm just..."

"Anxious?" Momo supplies and Mina quickly nods.

"Something like that. I've got... Got, uh. Something important to talk to you about."

"Yeah. That's what you said in your text," Momo points out, making Mina feel all the more awkward.

Even so, she struggles to form the right words. Momo picks up on how difficult this is and reaches over the table, placing a hand over Mina's, which immediately makes her doubly uneasy. Though, to their benefit, it has the effect of catapulting the words out of Mina's mouth all at once.

"I'm debuting."

"I know."

"Huh?"

"I said 'I know,'" Momo repeats, confounding Mina until she clarifies: "I got hired as a choreographer. Your group is my first project."

"You--..."

"It's just to erase my trainee debt," Momo clarifies, "I don't know if this'll be long term."

For a second, Mina decides to let this drag on and revert to normalcy so she can make a comment: "After how hard they harped on you to join that reality show, I'm surprised is all..."

Momo hums in acknowledgement, "You're telling me."

It only takes a few seconds before Mina feels Momo's thumb rubbing over her fingers as she holds her hand and she knows she's already losing her nerve. She becomes aware of the fact that she's reconsidering. That she's bargaining with herself to make this work despite knowing full well it's not what she wants anymore.

"We still need to talk," Mina blurts, forcing the words out again without thinking about them so she's forced into this uncomfortable confrontation.

"Hm?" Momo hums, and the content smile on her face would suggest she's none-the-wiser to what's going on in Mina's head.

Mina's mouth opens and closes. The fact that Momo clearly doesn't see what's coming makes this so much worse. Had she thought Mina's pulling away was merely stress? She doesn't allow herself to linger on that train of thought. She can't when Momo is sitting there waiting for an explanation.

"I don't think we can do this anymore," Mina says and she already hates her own delivery. It leaves room for doubt. Leaves room for negotiation.

"Do what?"

Or leave room for misunderstanding, apparently.

"Do... Us. We can't."

Momo's thumb stops and her grip on Mina's hand tightens ever-so-slightly before going completely slack.

"... What?"

Mina swallows dryly and she can feel her chest tighten with anxiety.

"I can't be dating anyone now that I'm debuting," Mina clarifies and she hates how she can see the emotions playing out on Momo's face in real time. Normally she'd been someone difficult to read, someone who kept her real thoughts and feelings under lock and key. But in this moment of vulnerability, Mina can see every thought in her head.

"I don't...--"

"It wouldn't be fair," Mina says, cutting her off, "There's no way I'd be able to give you the time you deserve, even if you're choreographing for us."

"Mina--"

"We'll be attending events constantly, practicing, doing music shows, recording. You remember how Minjun couldn't even call his own grandmother when his group took off."

It's a flimsy tactic and Mina knows it. By skewing things so it's about Momo, Mina thinks she'll spare her feelings. In the back of her head, Mina knows she's probably going to have to be honest.

"Do you think I'm impatient?" Momo asks, incredulous and hurt, "That I'm selfish? I know you'll be busy--"

"Busy is probably an understatement," Mina says, and she can tell she's losing footing in this conversation. She's not sure she's been more uncomfortable in her life. "And there's no guarantee you'll continue to work with us after choreographing our debut."

Again, Momo opens her mouth, but Mina cuts her off before a sound can be uttered. Though it feels like she's trying to fight a raging house fire with a leaking garden hose.

"And--And language lessons. I plan on trying to learn English and you know how intensive those courses g--"

"Mina."

Guilty, Mina finally shuts her mouth, allowing Momo the room to speak.

"I don't care about any of that," she says softly, holding Mina's hand again. Then, much to Mina's dismay, the soft, sweet smile returns and it does manage to ignite the sentimental part of her brain.

It fizzles out in seconds, however. She can't maintain a relationship on sentiment alone.

"Part of my arrangement involves a company subsidized apartment. It's small, but we'd have priva--"

"I'm not in love with you anymore."

Once again, Mina feels like she's outside her own body. As the words leave her mouth, she sees them reach Momo like a bullet to the chest. It has nearly the same violence and abruptness when it hits her.

She maintains eye contact for as long as she can, but studying the stunned, hurt look on Momo's face makes something in Mina's stomach churn.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, pulling her hand out of Momo's to settle in her lap.

The movement is enough to break Momo from being frozen in time and her eyes search the table. Again, Mina can hear her thoughts:

What did I do wrong?

Was there someone else?

Am I not good enough?

"How long?"

It takes a second for Mina to realize that one was actually spoken. They lock eyes for a moment and there's a silent, distraught desperation in Momo's eyes. She wants to understand. Wants to know what she did wrong. When it occurred, and how she can fix it. Mina knows she can't give her that. Won't. So, she asks:

"Does it matter?"

⬡⬡⬡⬡⬡

The scraping sound of the metal hanger hook against the pole in her closet pulls Nayeon back into reality where she realizes she hasn't been paying any attention to the task she'd set herself to. Instead, she'd been thinking too much about the comment Hani made.

"I was being serious, y'know. If you can learn how to tailor, you've got the taste level to be styling idols or actors."

Out of high school, she'd worked two years as a courier out of her father's car. While it had been a good way to get to know the Seoul back streets, it wasn't really a job with any trajectory and hardly fit into the future she envisioned for herself.

Problem is, there wasn't much of a vision to begin with. So, really all it took was one hard had conversation at the dinner table with her parents for her to fold and enroll in college. Thankfully, she liked school for the most part, but she found herself feeling less like she was on a path to greatness and more like...

Like she's taking a casual stroll on a treadmill, frankly.

Returning to the start of her wardrobe, Nayeon pages through her clothes until she comes across a pair of pants she really likes that so happen to still have the retail tag attached. Pulling them down, she holds them against her body, welcoming the momentary distraction.

Immediately she recalls why she never took the tag off. Holding them at her waist, she sees how the pant legs are far too long to just be cuffed and worn normally.

Oh. Right, she recalls, I wanted to try and hem these...

Hanging them back up, she continues to look through her clothes, stopping when she reaches a familiar plaid fabric. There's a split second of excitement until she has yet another annoying realization: she'd saved her old, favorite skirt also with the hope that one day she could fix a gigantic tear. In its current state it only looks presentable by merit of the pinching clip of the hanger holding it in place. She knows the second she pulls it off, it's little more than a very pretty, long stretch of pleated fabric that can't be worn.

I just need to learn how t-- The thought is cut off as she looks back at her desk. Sitting next to her laptop is the flier Jihyo had so graciously found for her.

In big bubble letters at the top, is the name of the city department sponsor: The Seoul Happy Family Commission Presents...

"'Weekly free community sewing lessons hosted by the heiress of the Jeju-based Jeong Hanbok Textiles."

Nayeon's eyebrows both go up at that mention. Her family had purchased her Hanbok from their company over the course of her life. She wonders if maybe this is her sign.

Glancing back at the pants with the long pant legs and the torn skirt, she figures, at a minimum, she could learn how to properly thread a sewing machine or neatly hand stitch. That couldn't take more than a couple classes--and she could figure out the rest online.

Turning back to the flier, she checks the time.

Mondays at 6:00 PM.

Then to the alarm clock on her nightstand.

4:43 PM.

She feels herself clenching her jaw.

Shit, she thinks, almost grumpy at the idea of going out, but easily convincing herself with the follow-up thought:

I guess I don't have an excuse not to.

⬡⬡⬡⬡⬡

Forced to rely on public transit, Nayeon manages to arrive only a couple minutes late. Which makes things doubly uncomfortable because she's not even sure if this class requires her to sign-up first or complete any other tasks prior to attending.

Taking a risk, she enters the community center, surprised to see that the room is essentially an auditorium where the chairs have been moved around and tables put down to make it into a sort-of craft room. Meanwhile at the far end is a desk without the teacher.

Looking around the room, Nayeon sees a total of about 15 people all hunched over something in their hands, working very methodically. She then spies one person leaning over the side of one of the tables, softly speaking to one of the attendees. For how quiet everyone is being, Nayeon still manages to barely hear what she's saying.

"--wearing a thimble on--Yeah! On that finger so you don't hurt your finger again," she gently advises, and as Nayeon's eyes settle on her, she recognizes her at once. The cute waitress from Soul G's she spied during her date with Hani.

As Nayeon's making the connection, the girl stands upright and appears to take notice of Nayeon. Her face suddenly breaks into a grin, and Nayeon is momentarily taken by how her face lights up almost literally.

"Come in, come in!" she urges, still keeping her voice down as she waves Nayeon in. She follows the teacher's direction, taking the seat she's pointed to and waiting patiently as the teacher scurries to her desk and returns with teaching materials in hand.

In one hand she has what looks like an old coffee tin, and the other turns out to have a few needles held in punctured foil paper, a spool of plain white thread, and a thimble. Leaving those on the table in front of Nayeon, she then reaches into the tin, fishing out a handful of buttons and placing them with the rest of the supplies.

"Do you want me to um..." Nayeon starts, already sifting through her button selection for any that might be similar to each other, "Match them? Sew them together, or...?"

"Oh!" the teacher blurts, apparently realizing she forgot something as she rushes back to her desk, then back to Nayeon. Seeing her react in such an animated way has Nayeon totally transfixed right up until she's given a scrap of fabric and a piece of paper with visual instructions on how to fasten buttons to fabric.

"Here you go!" she says cheerfully, "My name is Sana, if you have any questions, just wave me down, okay?"

For reasons she doesn't quite understand, Nayeon wants to laugh. She quickly shakes the impulse and simply smiles and thanks her new teacher before pouring over the instructions on the page.

In hopes of being as unobtrusive as possible, especially for arriving late, Nayeon works quietly. She refuses to ask for help, even when faced with a button with two instead of four holes and not being clear on how to best secure the button so it won't easily tear away.

She thinks by the time she's finished the third button, she could easily spend an entire hour long class practicing with buttons. Sana, evidently, has other ideas. After roughly 20 minutes, she gets the attention of the class and explains to them how sewing buttons on different kinds of fabric presents new challenges, such as with silk or leather. She then takes a moment to discuss the different types of needles and has the students pass around a stack of papers with sewing terminology and instrument names. And looking over the paper, Nayeon is appropriately surprised by the amount she discovers she knew nothing about.

As Sana is wrapping up with a Q&A, Nayeon looks back at the little button pile on her desk, fascinated by the different sizes and styles. Then, her eye suddenly caught by a button completely lacking any holes. Plucking it from the pile, it's a bit oversized, brassy, with a bee design on the face. Then on the back, she discovers a single loop for sewing and is left wondering how something like that can be secured--especially when it sticks out enough to be so easily caught and torn off of things.

"And if you have any questions, I'll be here for another 15 or 20 minutes after class to help while I tidy up," Sana says, and midway through the sentence, Nayeon notices people already shifting to pack up their things and leave. As most of the students begin rising from their tables and making their way to the door, Nayeon decides to get up and have her question answered.

Grabbing the bee button and the little piece of buttoned fabric, she approaches Sana from behind as she collects extra buttons from one of the students' seats.

"Excuse me," Nayeon says politely, completely unprepared for what comes next.

Sana whirls around, grinning broadly again--perhaps moreso since someone was needing her attention--causing Nayeon to flinch. Before she can get any words out, Sana looks down at the button in Nayeon's hand and asks a peculiar question of her own.

"Do you think bees have a concept of love?"

At first all Nayeon can do is blink at her, completely thrown off.

"... What?"

It's clear by the giggle that erupts from Sana that this was possibly the intended reaction. Though what may not have been intended was the way Sana's laugh leaves Nayeon feeling something akin but not quite embarrassed. Flushed, perhaps.

"I'm sorry, it's something I think about from time to time," she explains, though it's hardly a real explanation. Nayeon chuckles a bit awkwardly, deciding to just come out with her question.

"I um. Was wondering how..." Nayeon starts, though at some point between looking down at the bee button and making eye contact with Sana, she loses her train of thought. "Was wondering... Uh. Where? Where did you... Get this?"

"Do you like it?" Sana asks, and there's something strangely hopeful about the question.

"I--Sure? Yes. Yeah! I mean, it's cute isn't it?"

"It is! But..." Sana's smile fades slightly and for a split second Nayeon worries she may have offended, "I don't actually remember where it came from..."

"Oh!" Nayeon exclaims, "That's fine, I was just curious."

"I like collecting buttons for some reason," Sana admits, then she gives Nayeon a shrug and insists: "Keep it! Maybe you can take it with you to a sewing shop or crafts store and show to the employee to find something similar."

⬡⬡⬡⬡⬡

"Do you guys think bees have a concept of love?" Nayeon asks, milkshake straw tucked into the corner of her mouth and phone in hand.

Jihyo, who was mid chew, freezes, fixing Nayeon with a weird look before delivering her the most deadpan "Huh?"

"Probably not," Momo murmurs as she quietly picks at her plate of fries and stares out the diner window.

"What's up with you?" Jihyo asks, mouth still full as she nudges Momo next to her.

"Mina's debuting," she says flatly, and Nayeon thinks the food might fall out of Jihyo's mouth when she hears that admission.

"She what?!" Jihyo practically yells, but at least this time she has the decency to cover her mouth with her hand and Nayeon's face is spared any burger spray.

"She's debuting," Momo says again, leaning back in the booth and seeming oddly defeated.

"Is that why you're being weird?" Nayeon asks, prodding Momo's foot with her own.

"I'm not being weird," Momo says unconvincingly.

Then, being a little more serious, Nayeon tries to be sensitive with her next question: "Do you... kinda resent her? Because this should be you?"

"No," Momo quickly answers, "I'm happy for her. If SYP had any interest in debuting me, they would have tried to stop me from leaving."

"Tch," Jihyo interjects, "Maybe we could have debuted if we'd agreed to be part of that stupid SDS competition show they were gonna put us on."

Nayeon chooses not to pursue that particular topic. Before leaving SYP, Jihyo had spent many nights angrily explaining how it was the final straw. How being told her only hope of debuting rested squarely on the judges' assessment of her talent. After giving so many years of her life and co-coaching trainees younger and older than her, it was a final disrespect Jihyo wasn't going to stomach.

Instead, Nayeon chooses a different question. Something she'd been wanting to know for a while, in fact: "How did your families react to you leaving?"

"My sister was disappointed," Momo admits, "But I lied to my parents and told them that the choreography job was some high honor."

Momo receives another elbow from Jihyo immediately following that and is told: "You should be thinking like that. A lot of people would have killed for that job." Which manages to get a smile of Momo, if nothing else.

Nayeon can't help but wonder what it is Momo isn't telling them, however. She didn't get into these moods easily--and she certainly didn't let these kinds of feelings show unless it was something deeply troubling. She makes a mental note to check in on her later.

"At least your parents bought it," Jihyo says, then taking another bite of her burger, tucking it into her cheek and continuing: "Mine hired a matchmaker."

The smile on Nayeon's face immediately disappears.

"They what?!" Nayeon says, realizing a second too late she's raised her voice a bit too loud.

"Yeah," Jihyo says, pausing again to wipe at her mouth with her napkin, "They think I wasted too much time, so..."

Nayeon then realizes she's the only one at the table with the big reaction. So she looks to Momo, begging her for her reaction in her expression. All she gets is a shrug.

"It's not the most uncommon practice. They still do it in Japan and other places sometimes," Momo says plainly.

"So old fashioned..." Jihyo mutters bitterly as she finishes her burger and stands up, gathering up her arm band, purse, and book bag. "I gotta go," she says, again, mouth full.

"Don't choke," Nayeon teases.

With Jihyo's departure, Nayeon's able to direct her full attention to Momo with some semblance of privacy. Seems she wouldn't need the mental note to check up on her.

"So what do you really think of the matchmaker thing?"

Momo shrugs, "I was serious. It's not uncommon." There's a pause and she adds: "It doesn't make it any less weird of her parents, though."

Nayeon scoffs, "Yeah, definitely. But, it's not like Jihyo's gonna marry the first guy she meets."

Momo hums in agreement, still staring out the window.

Nayeon gives her a moment before finally getting to the thing she's wanted to ask: "You alright? Really?"

"Yeah," Momo assures, though she still doesn't meet Nayeon's eyes, "It's nothing."

Nayeon narrows her eyes at her friend, foot nudging her under the table again.

"You're still a bad liar, y'know."

⬡⬡⬡⬡⬡

Mina isn't the first to arrive in Director Park's office. It's a spacious room, purposely built wide to accomodate some of the larger groups the man had debuted in the past. Though when Mina enters, she notes that there are seven seats placed before his desk.

Sitting furthest from the door are two people Mina recognizes immediately, and both leave her completely puzzled. So much so that she wonders if she's in the correct meeting until Director Park greets her and gestures for her to have a seat.

The furthest chair is occupied by a former trainee Mina is still friends with, a man named Kim Kibum. Then, next to him is a woman a few years younger named Park Chorong, who Mina only knows because she debuted over a decade prior and retired from being an idol two years ago.

A co-ed group...? Mina wonders as she slides into the chair next to Chorong who smiles warmly and leans in to quietly tell her Congratulations.

It's hardly a minute before the others start filtering in. Chaeyeon is next, followed by two others Mina doesn't recognize. This makes matters even more confusing, though the last arrival makes her heart sink to the lowest pit of her stomach: Jeon Somi.

While Momo and Mina both had received the cold shoulder from a number of other trainees and staff for being Japanese--they'd witnessed genuine cruelty towards little Somi. Frequent enough, in fact, that Mina, Momo and Jihyo had purposely gotten themselves close to her so she would always have someone to turn to. Yet at the same time, the three of them had also quietly hoped that she wouldn't be given the chance to debut for fear of what would be said about her by the public.

Mina can only think: If trainees and staff were willing to be mean to her face, what sort of things would the public say behind the anonymity and safety of a keyboard?

"Your group has been my life's ambition for a long time. Since before Chorong's debut, in fact," Director Park begins, leaning back in his desk as he takes in the group, "Though before getting into that, I suppose introductions are in order."

Rising from his chair, he circles around his desk to be closer to the seven sitting before him. Leaning against the gigantic desk, he crosses his arms and there's something relaxed, yet somehow very proud about his body language that Mina finds striking. Intimidating, even.

"As you know, I've recently agreed to the SDS Broadcasting acquisition. Both Kim Kibum and Park Chorong were once part of SYP, which is why as current SDS employees, they make perfect choices to be your managers," he explains, which answers several questions for Mina. Though not of the two unknown members sitting with her.

"Myoui Mina is a three year trainee with us, and as eldest, she will be the leader of your group," He states, causing air to get caught in Mina's through. He continues: "Next to her is Miyawaki Sakura, former FNH and Hype trainee with idol and acting experience in Japan. Then Kim Doyeon, former FNH trainee and model. Our own little Lee Chaeyeon, who has been training for..."

"Four years, sir," she chirps, making Somi giggle.

"Four already? Time flies..." he mutters before finally gesturing to Somi, "Lastly, your maknae, Jeon Somi."

"Two years, sir!" Somi chimes in.

Director Park goes silent and Mina is suddenly afraid to move or speak as he settles his gaze on Somi.

"You know better than to speak unless spoken to, don't you?" Director Park asks. The grin on Somi's face suddenly falters as a rock forms in Mina's stomach.

"Actually, it'll be three years in two months," Chaeyeon says, also out of turn, and Mina wonders if she's testing him.

Director Park turns his gaze over to Chaeyeon and points at her. Mina braces herself.

"You've got a sharp memory, don't you?" he asks, and Mina thinks he must be sarcastic given how he'd just treated Somi.

But then he chuckles and smiles earnestly, "Time really does fly, doesn't it?"

Shrugging, he moves on, and Mina realizes she's just witnessed firsthand the sort of thing Somi can anticipate. As friend and now leader, it fills her with anger, but also dread.

Standing up straight, Director Park fixes the cuffs on his suit jacket, a smug look on his face forming as he addresses them, "You girls will be my Five Star. And my hope is that you are meant to change the world," there's a pause as he looks them over, his voice lowering an octave as he completes his thought: 

"Try not to let me down."