Chapter Text
- October 9th, 4:24pm
"Chu Sojung. Yah. Chu Sojung. Are you even listening?"
Sojung blinks. Refocuses. Tries to recall what happened in the past minute or so. Her hand is on her mouse, the Pro Tools icon is still bouncing incessantly on her laptop screen, and Kim Hyunjung is waving a hand in her face like she’s gone blind. Sojung swats it away.
"Yeah, sorry. What did you say?"
"I asked if you wanted anything else. I'm gonna buy a bagel," Hyunjung huffs. "You're always somewhere else these days, you know that?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Hyunjung smiles sarcastically. "Okay. You must be going through a second puberty. Should I call your mom?"
"Screw off. And no, I don't need anything." Sojung glances at her barely half-emptied Iced Americano, dripping condensation into a sad little puddle on the wooden table. She grabs it and takes a sip. It sucks. "But thanks."
Hyunjung hums in reply and saunters off towards the counter. The cafe is busy today, as it is every day of midterms week - the only reason why they snagged a seat is because Hyunjung's developed this habit of waking up at the ass crack of dawn out of nowhere, and she headed down to the cafe while Sojung was still dead asleep. She's glad Hyunjung didn't wake her up this morning, even though she told her to. Last night was one of the better ones for Sojung; it took some time for her to fall asleep, but she didn't dream at all, and even woke up to the sound of the birds chirping or whatever. Whether Hyunjung did that on purpose or not, Sojung doesn't know.
Pro Tools still isn't loading. Sojung sighs and decides that this is a sign from the universe to quit procrastinating and start actually studying for her philosophy exam. Grabbing her copy of Purgatorio sitting idle on the table, she flips to the last earmarked page, hoping that some stroke of inspiration will hit her after reading a few lines.
"Thus you may understand that love alone," it reads, "Is the true seed of every merit in you, and of all acts for which you must atone."
Nope. Sojung immediately closes the book and shoves it into her bag where it belongs. She's a music production major, anyways. She doesn't need to do well in philosophy.
The door to the cafe swings open with a loud chime, and a familiar but unwelcome face comes into view, tacked onto a small body in a grey cardigan. It glances around the room, looking for an vacant seat, and very briefly meets eyes with Sojung. Neither of them acknowledges the other; instead Sojung stares back down at her laptop screen, suppressing her rising panic, and wonders if this is all some huge elaborate prank. She keeps her eyes there and doesn't look back up until Hyunjung noisily drags out the chair across from her and sits back down.
"Sojung-ah."
"Hm?"
"That girl," Hyunjung says, and Sojung almost curses. "The one in the grey cardigan. She kept looking at you."
"And what about it?" Sojung retorts, a little too forcefully.
Hyunjung frowns. "Nothing. I'm just saying. What's up with you?"
What is up with her? She should be fine. Focusing on her work. Moving on with her life, because the Earth keeps turning, even when your feet are off the ground. People do it all the time. They go through war, famine - literal world-shattering events, and they still can find it them to carry on. Or at least pretend to.
Sojung can't even pretend properly, Jesus. "Sorry," she mutters.
Hyunjung tosses her a plastic-wrapped cookie as a peace offering, which she gratefully takes. It's a relief that Hyunjung doesn't hold grudges. Sojung looks up, cautiously peering around the room, and sighs in relief when grey cardigan is nowhere to be seen.
"I think she's in one of my classes. Luda, or Roda, or something." Momentarily Hyunjung rearranges the items on their table, shifting around books and papers to make space for her bagel. "Do you know her?"
"No."
"She's cute."
"Drop it."
"Okay," Hyunjung says, rolling her eyes. "I really should call your mom."
"She likes you better than me, anyway."
With that, Sojung attempts to re-settle into indifference, ignoring the pit in her stomach and the erratic rhythm of her heart. Maybe if she pretends for long enough, she can make friends with her guilt, even if she knows she can't forget. Maybe if she gets used to it, she can move forward just like Luda did, leaving her behind in the dust and bitter cold.
But at least she didn't have to pretend, when she said no. Because it's true.
For what it's worth, Sojung doesn't know Luda at all.
- August 25th, 9:51pm
If you ask Sojung what her favourite part about doing music is, she'll say it changes depending on the day. Sometimes it's the process, when she weaves tiny threads of herself into a complete work, painstakingly building a piece from the bottom up in a labour of love. Other times it's the people, the few and far between who match her wavelength, who take her art and elevate it to a new dimension entirely. Most of the time, though, it's neither.
Instead, it's this: the heat of outdoor stage lights on a warm summer night, fizzling like soda pop into her skin; an ocean of bright-eyed faces with a life of its own, unbridled energy spilling out of the seams; herself, the maestro, with a vantage point she thinks even God would envy.
This is what she lives for.
“Thank you!” She yells into the mic, taking in the view one last time with a megawatt smile on her face. The university crowd roars back at her. “And here’s to the end of summer!”
Offstage, Kim Jiyeon waits for Sojung, and hands her a plastic cup full of beer the moment she rejoins the crowd. “Cool set,” she says with a cheeky grin. Behind them the emcee introduces the next band in the lineup, drowned out into an indistinct blur. Sojung takes the cup and downs half of it in one go as a greeting.
“If Hyunjung unnie was here it would’ve been cooler," Sosjung says, and sends her lead singer a few quick texts before sliding her phone back into her pocket.
[9:52pm] chuexy: show was great
[9:52pm] chuexy: crowd missed u
[9:52pm] chuexy: jiyeon is here
Jiyeon scoffs. “If Hyunjung unnie was here then I wouldn’t be. Be thankful.”
“This wouldn’t be a problem if you two just acted normal.”
“Tell that to her,” Jiyeon levels Sojung with a look. “She’s the one that’s suffocating to be around. I’m just existing.”
Her band members wave and pat her on the back as they leave, off to find their own friends. A reply from Hyunjung comes in five seconds later with impeccable timing as usual.
[9:53pm] shaki: ㄷㄷ
[9:53pm] shaki: glad im sick
"Anyways," Jiyeon starts, navigating through the crowd with ease. Sojung lags a little behind and struggles to keep up with the number of high fives she has to give. "There's someone I want to introduce you to."
"Who? Are they a fan?"
Jiyeon fully turns around and gives Sojung another look. It borders on disgust. "Get off your damn high horse."
"It was a joke, a joke," Sojung lifts her hands in mock surrender. "So who is it?"
"One of my juniors from high school." They're towards the back of the crowd now, where there's more space to breathe. Sojung falls into step beside Jiyeon and looks around curiously. "I've been wanting to connect you two for a while, but I never really found a way. She's here tonight, though. Meet her and see how it feels."
"Uh huh. Are you trying to matchmake us?"
"I never said that," Jiyeon replies innocently. "She told me she was next to the beer tent- where is she? Oh. There. Luda-yah!"
Sojung has had generally bad experiences with Jiyeon's matchmaking shenanigans. Granted, there were only two - but two strikes is almost three, and if this one ends up being a third strike Sojung might swear off of women (or maybe just Jiyeon's women) for the next couple of years at least. Sojung sometimes wonders if this is revenge for introducing her to Hyunjung all those years back, and yeah. Maybe she deserves it just a little bit.
This one seems promising, though. But on first glance she seems to be a little too cutesy for her taste.
"Sojung, this is Lee Luda. Lee Luda, Chu Sojung."
"Sunbaenim, hi," Luda greets, polite but slightly reserved. "I enjoyed your set. You killed it up there."
"She really enjoyed it. It was her first time seeing you guys, but she was jumping and everything," Jiyeon adds helpfully. Luda's ears flush a bright red but her smile stays intact, though Sojung sees the look she casts Jiyeon's way. Just a little bit menacing. More than Sojung could ever manage against Kim Jiyeon.
Maybe she can get by with cutesy.
"Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed it, though there were a couple of last minute changes we made to the arrangements," Sojung says, sheepish. "The next time you see us will be better."
Luda's eyes go wide. "Better than that? I'll look forward to it."
"Our next gig isn't for a while though. But it won't be out in the open like this, so I'll save you a seat." Sojung slings her arm over Jiyeon and flashes Luda a charming smile. "This one can be your chauffeur."
"Hey!"
"It's okay. I'd rather not be driven by Jiyeon unnie, anyways. One wrong word and my life is at stake," Luda fake-grimaces. "Even I wouldn't go that far."
"Okay, that's enough, you two," Jiyeon huffs, stepping in between them. "I didn't introduce you so you could join forces to get back at me."
"Welcome to the club, Luda," Sojung exaggerates a wink. Luda giggles, extends a hand to Sojung, and they shake on it jokingly. Her hands are soft against Sojung's own rough, calloused fingers.
"I should go back, anyways." Luda glances towards where her friends are, their rapt attention focused on the next band playing. "It was nice meeting you, sunbaenim."
Maybe this is just Sojung being delusional, her hopeless romantic side taking over all rational thinking. But she swears she feels it, even in this brief interaction - that supernatural connection. Like the feeling you get when you make a pinky promise with someone. Like fate, tapping you on the shoulder.
Maybe it’s the alcohol in her system.
When Luda leaves, Sojung watches her go. She rejoins her small group and suddenly looks softer, more radiant. The tall one standing beside her says something funny, and Luda bursts into a fit of laughter that soars high above the music. Sojung’s chest squeezes and doesn’t let go.
After that she glances back a few times. She doesn’t know how many. But crucially, on her latest glance, she manages to meet eyes with Luda. Pretending like her heart isn't pounding louder than the bass, she raises a playful eyebrow and smiles just slightly, an expression carefully rehearsed time and time again, schooled into practiced perfection.
When Luda smiles back, eyes twinkling in the distant stage lights, Sojung breaks character and grins like she just won the lottery.
- September 4th, 1:59pm
Sojung is running late for class.
This is unusual because she prides herself on her work ethic, a big part of which is being always early or punctual at the very least. But she's never had classes at the humanities block before, and while she did factor in an extra twenty minutes to find her classroom, she didn't expect the building to be this big and this hard to navigate. First impressions are so important, and with one minute left to the start of class, she shifts gears into a panicked jog. Maybe, she thinks, glancing around so that she doesn't miss any helpful signs, if I come in a little sweaty the professor won't hate me.
Finally, in the distance, she spots it - a string of numbers that matches the one on her timetable. Thank God. The classroom is quite literally hidden in some secluded, far-off corner, right where a broom closet would be. Only her luck can get her to places like these.
2:01pm. Sojung stands outside the classroom and plasters a sheepish smile on her face, then twists the door open. “Sorry I'm-”
She freezes.
“Come in, come in,” the professor beckons, a kind-looking lady in her mid forties. “You're not late yet. Have a seat.”
From in front of the professor, Lee Luda glances at her, expressionless.
Then she resumes their conversation like nothing happened.
Sojung walks towards the seats in a trance. When she goes past Luda and her professor, she overhears words like Dante and Virgil and symbolism. This is a philosophy class. Right. Of course a chemistry major would be here for no reason. But maybe this is a sign - she's been wondering if she should reach out first, anyways. It's good that they share a class together. Sojung waits, patiently, for Luda to finish her conversation and sit down. There's an empty seat next to her. It's a good opportunity.
And then, with a sweet smile, Luda bids a polite goodbye to the professor, slings her backpack over one shoulder, and walks towards the door.
Fuck.
“Luda!” Sojung almost shouts, jumping out of her seat.
Luda doesn't even look back before the door slams shut.
The professor looks at Sojung, confused. “Is something the matter?”
Shell-shocked, Sojung replies almost breathlessly. “Nothing at all,” she laughs nervously, face burning red. “Sorry. I'll catch her after class.”
- August 25th, 10:20pm
The deeper the night falls, the louder the music gets, and the more ceaselessly energised the crowd seems to become. The DJ on stage now is another one of Sojung's music school classmates, and normally she’d squeeze herself near the front of the stage to rave just like everyone else - but after her initial performer’s high has passed, she finds herself more exhausted than usual, so she hangs back with Jiyeon and a few other friends.
She could use another beer, though. So she joins the ridiculously long queue for the beer tent alone, and casts a few more sneaky-not-so-sneaky glances Lee Luda’s way. Just to, you know. Make sure everything’s okay.
Except Luda isn’t there. Her group of friends is, though. When Sojung stares for a little too long, confused, the tall one from earlier stares back at her until they make eye contact.
“Toilet,” the tall one mouths, in big exaggerated movements. Sojung's cheeks burn like she’s just been slapped. Shit. I've been caught.
At least the tall one is nice enough to tell her, though. Sojung awkwardly nods her head in thanks.
Twenty-five minutes pass. Sojung still hasn’t gotten her beer, and has been playing some random merge game to pass the time. She glances over in Lee Luda's friends' general direction once again, deciding that enough time has passed to safely avoid a second round of eye contact with the tall one.
Lee Luda is still not there.
The tall one is frowning, a bit. Sojung feels a tug at her heart. there’s also something else - a bizarre foreboding that’s very slowly but surely building up in her stomach, telling her that maybe something is wrong. Even in this ordinary situation. Even if she doesn’t really know Lee Luda well enough to be concerned for her wellbeing yet.
It's not like I lose anything by going to check it out, anyways. Sojung glances at the beer tent, just a few places away. Except a beer. but…
It doesn’t take long for her to decide. With her bag over her shoulder and no beer in hand, Sojung leaves, her mind already elsewhere.
- September 5th, 2:03am
[2:03am] chuexy: hi
[2:03am] chuexy: this is sojung
[2:03am] chuexy: i got your id from jiyeon
[2:04am] chuexy: can we talk soon?
- September 7th, 6:02pm
[6:02pm] chuexy: hello?
[6:02pm] chuexy: this is lee luda, right?
- September 9th, 1:00pm
[1:00pm] chuexy: jiyeon confirmed that it's you
[1:01pm] chuexy: i'm sorry if you're still busy but i think we should talk about it as soon as possible
[1:01pm] chuexy: i saw police officers on campus today
[6:34pm] chuexy: i'm going to call you in a couple of minutes
[6:40pm - CALL FAILED]
[7:28pm - CALL FAILED]
[9:15pm - CALL FAILED]
- August 25th, 10:45pm
Sojung has been called many names over the course of her twenty-two years of life. Clumsy, idiot, crybaby, clumsy-idiot-crybaby, you name it. But the one she hasn't been called is coward, so tries her best to protect that last shred of dignity she has, by making sure she doesn’t run away screaming down the hall.
The university campus is making that really hard, though. It’s obvious that it was made to be worked and lived in during the day, because only in the ten p.m. darkness is Sojung realising just how few and far between the lights are. Whole blocks and buildings have become barely distinguishable, so Sojung has to find her way around by memory alone, accompanied by her iPhone flashlight and the faraway sounds of EDM from the Green.
Something scuttles across her path. Sojung yelps and jumps back before realising it’s a piece of plastic being blown by the wind.
Nope. She is not a coward. She will not become one today.
(Especially not in front of Lee Luda. If she’ll show up, that is.)
The two toilets nearest to the Green - which Sojung checked first, of course - both had long lines out the door, and Luda was in neither. Being the resourceful person she is, she’d asked the first person in each queue how long they’d waited for. Both of them answered with about thirty minutes. That means that Luda must have gone somewhere else, Sojung surmises, to avoid the queue. Fine. There are at least ten more toilets in the vicinity. If Sojung has to walk through this darkness to get to them, then so be it.
It’ll be worth it when she makes sure Luda is safe. To quell the weird feeling she has in the pit of her stomach. Also when she gets to walk back with Luda. That’ll be nice. Sojung shoves her hands in her pockets and keeps walking.
She’s on maybe the fourth one - or fifth? or sixth? She might have visited the same one twice, but the pitch darkness makes it hard to tell - when she hears something strange. A low murmur, coming from just past the next turn, where the corridor leads out into the open air. Her grip tightens on her bag, and she switches off her flashlight, approaching cautiously.
“All I want,” it’s a man’s voice, calm in a way that makes goosebumps rise on Sojung’s skin, “Is your number. That’s what I came all this way to ask for.”
“You followed me.”
That’s Luda. Her voice wavers only slightly at the end.
Sojung starts to panic.
“I did. But I already told you what I wanted, didn’t I? That’s all. That’s really it,” he laughs. “I’m not sure why you’re being so difficult.”
“And I already told you,” Luda says, frustrated but restraining herself. “I’m not giving it to you. I don’t want to. Now please let me go.”
"You know, it's the easiest thing in the world. Just give me a chance. If you decide you don't like me later on, then fine."
"No."
There's a beat of loaded silence. Sojung stops all movement, blood thrumming in her ears, paralysed. It's now or never, she repeats like a mantra in her head. Now or never, Chu Sojung.
"Give me your phone."
It takes one strangled sound from Luda for Sojung to spring out of her panic and into action.
"Hey! Get your fucking hands off of her!" Sojung snaps, shoving him away from Luda with all the strength in her body. It's enough - he shouts in surprise and stumbles back. They're separated. Sojung temporarily relishes in the look of shock and shame on his face, before realising that he's much bigger than her crappy night vision had painted him to be. Embarrassment morphs into pure rage, and oh shit, oh fuck, he's so fucking tall, he easily towers over Sojung, and-
Sojung gets socked right in the jaw with a deafening crack.
- September 10th, 8:15pm
Jiyeon asks Sojung out for dinner.
It’s a little sudden, but Jiyeon tends to be that kind of friend - the one that disappears for weeks, doing god knows what, replying messages only at ungodly hours, then asks to meet you tomorrow at six out of nowhere. It’s fine. Sojung knows that Jiyeon is busy, and appreciates that this was probably the only time she could make to see her friend. It’s the heart that counts, right? Or so they say.
Sojung suggests a higher-end French place that she thinks suits Jiyeon’s more refined tastes. Jiyeon sends her a bunch of ㅋㅋs and tells her she’s craving Daegu’s gopchang. It’s too much to travel to Daegu on such late notice, though, so they settle on a quaint, hole-in-the-wall barbeque spot a couple of stops away from campus.
“So,” Jiyeon starts, filling their glasses halfway with beer. “Did you contact Luda?”
Sojung stiffens. “Not yet.”
(”Yes,” she nearly says. “I tried. I really fucking tried. But she didn’t respond to any of my texts or my calls. What was I supposed to do?”)
“Hm?” Jiyeon frowns slightly. “When you asked me for her number, I thought you were gonna text her right away.” She grabs the soju bottle next, skillfully swirling the bottle and slamming onto its base with the back of her elbow.
“I… was going to.”
“But?”
“But I’ve been busy, okay. You know midterms are coming up.” Sojung hopes it sounds convincing enough, even though she’s no rookie actress.
“Never thought you were one to be stopped by just exams,” Jiyeon murmurs. “Remember last year when you-”
“Okay!” Sojung shrieks. “Let’s not go there.”
Jiyeon snickers, pouring soju into each glass. “I remember everything, Chu Sojung, even if you want to forget. I bet that poor girl does too.” With a loud clink, the soju and beer get mixed together, white fizz erupting to the surface. “Now drink.”
They manage to chat about anything else over the rest of their meal, so Sojung considers her deflection a success. Jiyeon tells her about the new student film she’s acting in, a murder mystery. Her character is the curious one that gets tangled in all the drama, then snoops around in hopes of saving the day. While listening, Sojung nods along absently and doesn’t look Jiyeon in the eye.
(If Jiyeon notices anything off about Sojung - which she definitely did, Sojung saw that irritating, knowing look in her eye - she chooses not to mention it. Sojung is grateful for that, at least.)
And then they’re on their last glasses of so-maek, all caught up on each other’s lives again, save for the things Sojung desperately wants to say out loud but just can’t. People have started streaming out of the restaurant, wrapping up their Sunday evening to prepare for work the next day. Now they’re one of the two tables left, and the too-quiet backdrop makes Sojung feel exposed under Jiyeon’s gaze, under an unwanted spotlight, not knowing what to expect but feeling guilty all the same.
“But, for real,” Jiyeon smiles, small and earnest. “I really hope you talk to Luda. You two would make a great match.”
Sojung smiles back, nods, and swallows the bile creeping up her throat.
- August 25th, 11:12pm
Even if she ends up being the loser today and not a hero, at least she wasn't a coward.
That's how Sojung consoles herself while she's on the floor, getting absolutely battered by this dude.
(She's always been good at looking at the bright side of things.)
She's lost count of the number of punches she's taken, and she also has no clue whether she's actually fighting back or not, or just getting pounded into a Chu Sojung meatball. It hurts, though. That one she knows for sure. It hurts everywhere, but somehow she manages to get a grip on his greasy half-ponytail, and she pulls. Hard. He squeals like a stuck pig and momentarily Sojung thinks it’s her way out, until he tears her hand away and serves her one more punch to the gut that makes her see stars.
That’s when she starts to think about life. About death. About what’s going to happen if she dies there, beaten to death by an angry man with a bruised ego, just another one of these stories in the news.
She doesn’t want to die. If she does, nobody is going to feed the cats when Hyunjung goes away next weekend. If she dies, Luda is going to be upset forever, with her only memories of Chu Sojung being an imperfect performance set and whatever this looks like.
Luda.
Sojung turns her head in time to see a smattering of panicked footsteps run across the floor. Yeah. Run. Get as far away from this place as possible. At least Luda is smart enough to get help, instead of trying to stop him on her own. Sojung almost laughs at the irony. Then she starts to pray for the first time in her life.
And then it all stops.
Big guy collapses onto her. Sojung shoves him off, bug-eyed, wondering what the hell just happened. And then she sees it.
Lee Luda, illuminated by the moon, holding up a fire extinguisher with both hands, at the end of a perfect swing. Her temples glisten with sweat, she’s breathing hard, and the look in her eyes is something that Sojung can barely describe. A cross between predator and prey, cold as glass but full of hidden trepidation and fear. Slowly, she lowers the fire extinguisher, and Sojung props herself up on her arms.
“I think he’s dead,” Luda says first. “I hit his head more than once.”
Sojung doesn’t know what to do with that information.
“Are you-” she winces, jaw smarting. “Are you sure?”
Luda sets the murder weapon on the ground calmly, then uses her foot to push big guy into a starfish position, spread out across the floor. Almost mechanically, she bends herself down to his chest level to check for rise and fall. She even checks his pulse for good measure.
“Yep," she confirms. "Dead as a doornail."