Work Text:
I don't like parties.
Yeah, I'm so unique, don't pat me on the back.
But it's so hard to enjoy anything when she isn't by my side.
Wonyoung, that is.
Fuck me in my ass and call me Rebecca. I am done with this little game of cat and mouse. She won't even look at me. I fucking drove her here, and she can't stand to be in the same room as me. Wouldn't wanna catch a case of the homo, now would we?
She's laughing with her friends, holding her stomach and all. But there's this glint in her eyes, a stiffness to her smile. I really meant it when I said she should get into theatre. She's an amazing actress, hell I'd be fooled if she looked at me like that. Too bad drama club is too lame and gay for her.
I'm not an idiot. Obviously I'm not an idiot, I'm in AP everything. But sometimes, sometimes, I really doubt myself. Like when she gives me that one smile where she crinkles her nose and tilts her head, suddenly I feel a little stupid. My brain goes mushy and I can't remember the simplest things.
I like to think the same thing happens to her. Sometimes I catch her staring. It's few and far between, but I swear it's there. And her ears get hot pink when I catch her. It's adorable.
But obviously she only likes me when it's just the two of us. Suddenly, the moment someone else is present, I'm roadkill. Of course she doesn't want me when she has so many other amazing options here.
My head is already spinning, and I got here like thirty minutes ago. Shit, and there's a stain on my top. I knew I shouldn't have worn such a light grey. Opposed to, you know, my other shirts that are the other shades of grey.
Great, I think I'm going crazy.
I never should've taken that drink from Yena. It's always fucking Yena. That girl gave me this red solo cup of red liquid and I naively assumed that it was punch, just punch. Obviously it had alcohol in it, use your brain Yujin. Maybe I was too distracted with other things.
Now my heart is pounding like a jugg beat and I think there's a ringing in my ear. My palms are sweating like they're leaking, staining my jeans when I try to wipe them off. And on top of all this bullshit, my thoughts are running at 100 miles per second, and only a third of them are understandable.
And there is one thing that is common about many of them. Do you wanna guess what it is?
Wonyoung's finally looking at me. Sure, it was for a split second, but it was there. And no, it wasn't just her scanning the party and accidentally making eye contact with me. She was practically glaring. Despite all this, God, does she look stunning tonight. She could also model, that may be more up her alley. Less gay.
Gay this. Gay that. How about you just kiss me in front of this crowd and see how many people actually give a shit. There's one church in this town and there are like two dozen people who attend. Jang Wonyoung, you aren't one of them. I would know, because I happen to be one of those two dozen people.
So the question now is, why?
Why won't you be with someone like me?
I know you're scared. I was too. Hell, I still am. Every time my heart flutters when I see you, every time our fingers touched even the slightest bit, I feel terrified. My blood runs cold at the thought of ever feeling you in my arms. I yearn for you, Wonyoung. But it isn't hope. It's grief.
But that's the beauty of love. That's what it actually feels like. It's not one hundred percent pretty or soft. It feels like you're dying a hot, gruesome death. It feels like being stabbed by an obsidian blade and feeling like you'll never be whole again. However, there are moments, it can feel like lying on a bed of daffodils and watching the butterflies and the bees dance. But we're not up to that yet.
I barely remember where I am. I am too deep into my thoughts I'm practically drowning. And when I try to take a break from overthinking, I'm back in this sea of people who smell and are way too sticky. Seriously, how is any of this legal?
Now, Kazuha has the audacity to try and pull me into the dance circle. It's barely a dance circle, by the way, it's like a hexagon at best. Anyways, i try to pull back and retreat into my corner, but Kazuha is deceptively strong. Can she not sense my despair? Like this isn't the time, but Kazuha runs on her own clock it seems.
Wonyoung watches. And I'm watching Wonyoung because of course I am. I'm pathetic and I'm petty, I get it. What I don't get is why she's being all pouty and frowning. Like you give a fuck.
That's rude, but it's my truth. And it's a genuine criticism of the situation. I don't fully mean it, I'm just confused and sulky because I don't want to fucking be here.
Kazuha is now getting way too close and people are grinding on me in all directions. If they push a little more and twist just right, we'd probably start a fire with all this friction. Kazuha, in particular, is practically melding us into one person. She doesn't want me, I know that's for sure. All she's doing is talking to me about how I should let go and shimmy. She's just someone who loves fun, and I can respect that.
But maybe I do start to smile. Maybe I do shimmy. It's unconscious, but I'm enjoying myself. And Kazuha's smile is wider than ever, so that's worth something.
Karina joins our pair, throwing her arms in the air and screaming the lyrics. Her words are slurred, but I don't think she knew the lyrics in the first place.
Goodness, she is gorgeous, like alarmingly so. She's looking at me with these squinted eyes, shooing daggers into my soul. It's kinda painful, if I'm being one hundred percent truthful.
We used to have this thing... It wasn't dating, not really. So she wasn't upset when I told her about my feelings for Wonyoung, and I wasn't disappointed when she started dating this guy. I was disappointed in her type, but that just may be the man-hater spirit inside of me. They broke up recently, I helped her through it. But we aren't a thing now, and I don't think we ever could be.
But some people think we have something going on - people who aren't in our immediate circle, but who watch from the outskirts. Also, some of my closest friends have this ongoing theory. One of those people happened to be the woman of the hour.
Wonyoung gets into this grumpy mood whenever I'm in an arm's length of Jimin. It's kind of funny if it wasn't so confusing. And concerning, I may add, I've never seen anyone pout so profusely and frown so deeply. Sometimes I'm afraid she'd get an aneurysm or permanent wrinkles, but she always seems more invested in whatever is going on in her pretty pink brain.
Fuck this shit. Being gay is so hard. Especially when the girl who you've been in love with still doesn't see what you have. Because for two girls not together, we sure as hell don't act like it. I have girl friends, many in fact, and I've never cuddled any of them to sleep while they were crying about their favourite character dying. That's an experience I have shared with only Wonyoung one too many times.
I am not the oblivious one, let's set the record straight. Never was, never have been, never will be. I see everything through a crystal clear lens.
Not saying that Wonyoung's oblivious either. She's just stuck between two worlds. Her walls are built strong and high, with not a single crack in any of them. Maybe except for one me shaped crack where her heart is. She just won't recognise it though. It's right in front of her, yet she just won't acknowledge it, like how your brain tricks your eyes into not seeing your nose.
After an hour or so of sharing fleeting glances and staying a good distance away, Wonyoung decides it's enough. And I have half the mind to take the hint. It's not really a hint, it's more like a blaring red alarm. She spins on her toes, shoulders her bag and starts pushing through the growing crowd.
I don't even realise I'm holding my breath until I start getting dizzy and light headed. I let out a deep sigh, and start to move away. Kazuha nods me a good luck, because somehow she knows. Jimin just looks sad to see me go, and I'm kinda sad to leave. I'll catch up with them another day.
I walk out first, because that's the way it's always been. Also because I didn't really bring anything except for my phone, so I can just slide through crowds without a worry in the world. She follows a minute after, making sure she's not being watched. I wanna laugh, because it's never that serious, babe.
My car had warmed up in the time it took for her to get into the passenger seat. She slumps into the seat like a toddler and crosses her arms.
"Good party?" She asks, because what else would she say. At least she's looking at me now. I like it when it's just us. I really like when she looks at me.
"Yeah, I had loads of fun." I reply in a monotonous manner, that isn't meant to seem any bit sarcastic, but it does anyways. I mentally slap my self in the face for it, but what can I do.
I think I hear Wonyoung scoff. Or maybe it was a cough, I can't really hear out of my right ear now.
"Seemed like you had a blast, dancing with Kazuha... and Karina. Karina seemed to be having an extra good time with you." She mumbles, shifting in her seat and tapping her acrylics on her labubu's face.
"Well, you seemed real preoccupied with Hoon and his goons." I huff, because two can play at that game, "I mean, did you really touch his bicep? That thing is flatter than his ass, and you out of all people should know how flat his ass is."
"What's your problem?" Wonyoung hisses, digging her nails into her arms as she pushes herself upright. Her body is now half turned towards me, it's the first time she's faced me all night.
"Hm?"
"Don't do that."
"Hm?" I repeat, leaning to my right, facing her for a moment with a clueless pout. It's ragebait, yes, but I deserve this.
"Stop that," Wonyoung bites, swatting me. It kind of hurts because of her hellishly long nails and multitude of rings. "Let's be mature."
"Mature?" I scoff, and now my forehead is hurting from frowning so much. "That's real rich coming from you."
"What the fuck, Yujin?" She questions, her tone both surprised and exasperated. Now, she can't be serious. There's no way she can be serious.
"What?"
"Answer the god damn question." Now she's mad, like she gets to be. Fairness isn't just gifted, it's earned, but obviously, Wonyoung hasn't gotten the memo. Her ears are red, but not for any good reasons.
"Okay, You didn't look at me once in two hours!" I explain, and saying it out loud, it doesn't seem that big of a problem. But that's just it. This isn't the problem. "It would've been nice to know that you remembered that I was there. Maybe a little hello or how are you."
"Don't do that, I did look at you!" And to be fair, she's not entirely wrong. But fleeting glances and the occasional side-eye do not count as acknowledging looks.
"Barely," I mumble, leaning my head slightly to the left. This whole conversation is giving me a headache.
"I looked at you, Yujin. How could I ever not look at you?" Wonyoung's voice sounds so small, and most of me feels guilty for inflicting such insecurity. But then again, a small yet feisty part of my mind won't stop nagging me, egging me on. I can't just shut the fuck up, can I?
"Well, you sure as hell avoided me like I had the plague." The words spill out of my lips like they were lubricated with butter, and now I actually want to punch myself. But we know I'm right, because I'm never wrong. I can feel my cheeks heating up and my throat burns as if bile is rising.
"You know I can't-" Wonyoung's irritation grows with every word I say and I can't blame her. So, she can't blame me either, because I actually don't know. I don't know anything going on in her mind, because she won't let me in. But I can sure as hell guess.
"Can't what, Wonyoung?" I spit out before she can finish, my heart is thumping and I think I can see it trying to escape my body. Something is clawing within me and it really hurts. I hope it's just sadness. I can only imagine it being something akin to rage. And I would hate for it to be something deeper and more damaging than either: the truth. "Can't be caught dead near me and my gay?"
The humming of the car's engine grows deafening and everything else dies.
To finally say what I had been thinking all night, it isn't the "gotcha" moment I had anticipated. Out loud, it's real. Now, it's more than just a sour observation made after a few possible coincidences by a young girl who can't handle her emotions. It is now, and forever will be, a truth shared by us. Now Wonyoung is acutely aware, and I know that it has got to be chewing at her insides, the way it had been doing to mine.
"Oh- okay, so you want to talk about immaturity now?" Wonyoung deflects, because how is she supposed to follow that? She doesn't even try to deny here, because she knows, deep down, I'm right.
"This isn't about immaturity anymore," I explain, my voice quieter than it has been all night. It's getting harder and harder to speak, especially with Wonyoung glaring daggers into my side. "This is about your problems."
"I'm not the one with problems."
"I'm not the one who stops herself from doing the things she wants to do and hanging around the people she actually want to hang out with because I'm scared of being perceived as a homosexual." My breathing is erratic, and the last part of my statement is almost lost as my breath wains thin. Despite this, my words resonate in this thick air between us, and I think I can almost hear the echo. Each word is a little stab in both of our hearts, where the punctures lead to cracks, which lead to the shattering of two souls that weren't whole in the first place. And I can sense it, the breaking point.
"I'm not gay!" Wonyoung practically shouts, almost immediately after the word homosexual leaves my mouth. She's on the edge of her seat, the seatbelt not doing good work in keeping her secure. She's also more panicked than I've ever seen her, and I'm almost frightened just thinking about what is about to happen next. But instead of pouncing, punching or yelling, Wonyoung slumps back into her leather seat and takes one deep breath out. "I'm not gay, Yujin."
"I never said that you were." Which is true, technically I just said that she was afraid of being perceived as gay. But I understand when that kind of argument isn't appreciated. After all this time, I've gotten pretty good at reading the little things when it comes to Wonyoung. Yet I can never see the bigger picture. Or whatever is in-between those little things. "I'm just saying, that you're never seen around me in public, because you convulse at the slightest chance of anyone thinking you're anything but the perfect person. I'm not good enough for your image."
"That's not true." Her voice is weak, the smallest it's ever been, and it breaks my heart that I'm the reason for it. This conversation had to happen eventually, I know that, but not like this. The last thing I want to do is hurt Wonyoung, but it's hard to do so when I'm already hurt myself.
The silence between us is like a ravine, tall and so terrifying. One wrong step and I may just fall into an abyss I could never escape. But I have to try and get to the other side, closer to Wonyoung. Because I'm tired of yelling across this chasm.
My fingers twitch with dread, the steering wheel being coated by a layer of sweat. I can feel my heartbeat in the tips of my fingers, and it's erratic. I don't know why I'm so nervous. Maybe I should focus on the fact that I should be devastated that she's straight. But I came to that conclusion long ago, I was just delusional and stupid. I am so stupid.
"Tell me, Wonyoung," I begin, my voice cracking slightly, "Do you like me?"
I can't let my tone sound too hopeful, because that's pathetic. The question, in itself, is pathetic. It's not even a good question. But I'm done trying to keep my chin high, it's not like I had much pride in the first place.
In the mirror I see the slight furrow in her brows; she's confused. That's fair, I would be confused too. She almost seems frightened, which has been a common sight in this conversation. Maybe I should be more clear, she did just say she wasn't gay after all. I would laugh at the fact she had to come out as straight to me, but this isn't the moment.
"Before you say anything, I'm not talking about like-like... I mean do you even enjoy being around me?" That's more like it, more like the Yujin I know. I find that when I talk to Wonyoung, I lose myself. All I need is a bit of grounding to remember who I am. Maybe Wonyoung should try it too.
She stays silent for a bit, because it is a loaded question. I can't imagine being in her position, where one of her closest friends is asking if she even enjoys her presence. I'm sorry, Wonyoung, but I need to know. Because, lately, it doesn't seem like you like me all that much.
"Yes." She sighs after a moment of contemplation. She then turns to me, with the faintest smile, because despite our fight we're still best friends, "The answer is one hundred percent yes."
That's the answer I was expecting. I know for certain it's the truth. Now, I guess, I have one more question to ask. The one that actually matters.
"Then why..." I breathe out, but it's shaky despite me trying not to seem nervous. The leather of the steering wheel squeaks under the tightening grip of my fingers. I roll my shoulders back and cough out the nerves, "Why do you throw me away the second someone else is in the room."
"I- I don't know."
Fair enough.
It isn’t a sufficient answer but my answer is a little out of the ordinary. My mouth is moving faster than my brain is, I can’t control myself. It may be my biggest flaw.
"Why am I disposable?" I reiterate, because for some reason I really want an actual answer. Maybe it’s the little alcohol in my system making me crazy. I do feel a little lightheaded. Not a good thing to admit while driving.
Wonyoung sighs and she doesn’t even try to hide it. I look in the rear view mirror to find her eye clenched shut and her eyebrows furrowed. I think I hit a nerve. She might just explode if I don’t shut my yapper.
"Okay," she practically spits out, but it’s so obvious that she’s exhausted, so there isn’t much venom in her words. She turns to face me, or kind of face me seeing as though she’s strapped in. Her hands are crossed across her chest and she looks upset. "I do like you, is that what you wanted to hear?"
"What?" The question slips through my lips despite myself. But really, what is she talking about? She already said that she liked me as a friend. I’d sound like a hypocrite if I said she was unnecessarily repeating herself. Am I missing something?
"Don't play stupid with me An Yujin." She barks, and I don’t blame her for becoming increasingly irritated. She massages her temples while staring daggers into my soul. I think I almost see tears in her eyes. Why would she be crying, I really don’t know. I’m not the best at picking up cues sometimes, despite my efforts. Even Wonyoung is a mystery to me at times.
She drops her hand and looks at me, really looks. My confusion and obliviousness must be evident because she looks at me with an incredulous expression. It’s like she can’t even believe my stupidity, and believe me Wonyoung, I can’t either. "I do like-like you. In a more-than-friends kind of way. In a gay way. Is that what you wanted?"
Oh.
What? No. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Am I happy? Not as much as I should be. Wonyoung likes me. Like, really likes me. The girl that I’ve been crushing on for two years likes me back, and I’m fucking up so bad. Shit, shit, shit.
She’s in tears, confessing this like it’s a secret curse on her soul. It’s like she hates the fat that she likes me. I’ve been giving her so much slack, never realising the struggle she was going through. This must be so hard for her. This whole time… I’m such a jerk. I’m so screwed. I really fucked it up this time, didn’t I?
"Wonyoung..."
She doesn’t respond, not like I would either if I was in her shoes. She doesn’t even look at me. Her shoulders are shaking as her chest rises and falls with deep breaths.
"Hey," I whisper, "Look at me."
"No." It’s barely audible, yet it crushes my soul. She looks like a kicked puppy. I’m so sorry.
I close my eyes for a second too long, before realising I’m literally on the road. I shake my head, clearing it up.
"I wasn't forcing you to admit that." I say, my tone softer than it’s ever been. It’s my truth, yes, but it’s not hers. This whole night I’ve been being such an asshole, and now I can’t even take the blame. This is my fault.
"It felt like it." She admits, shoulders slowly slouching. There’s a small thud as she rests her head against the window, watching the cars and streetlights pass. She’s right, she always is. Looking back, I kind of was. I just wanted to be noticed. I want to be loved, the way I love. I’ve never felt this before, not that it’s an excuse for outing her and being a jerk.
"I'm sorry." And I really mean it. I don’t deserve her or her attention after tonight. I feel so bad for not living up to her expectations of me.
We are left in silence for a while. It’s a nice change of pace from the yelling match we just had. I don’t at all expect for Wonyoung to talk to me for the rest of the trip. It may be a good opportunity to think about ways to apologise properly.
"Do you like me?" Wonyoung suddenly asks, her voice cracking.
This conversation is just full of surprises.
"Pardon?" When we look at each other for a split second, I’m hit with her biggest doe eyes. Shoot, I’m doomed.
"Do you like-like me, Yujin?" She uses my exact wording against me. And I think she knows the answer. I don’t know how long she’s known; I don’t think I want to know.
It’s too late to lie. It’s not fair to lie — not to myself, and definitely not to Wonyoung. It’s time to let go and allow myself to be free.
"Yeah... I really like you." I say with my chest, and suddenly everything hurts. Despite the deafening thump of my heart and the fire that is spreading throughout my body, I feel a weight lift. I look at Wonyoung with a sad smile, "Shit, Wonyoung, I really, really like you."
Now she’s really crying. She looks so upset it’s killing me. I’ve never seen her like this, not when her cat died, not when her long-term boyfriend broke up with her. Just another pain to eat at my conscience.
"Fuck me." Wonyoung huffs through sobs. She wipes at her face, smearing her makeup, but she’s past the point of caring. "Fuck you too."
I kind of want to cry now. I think we both deserve it. I’ve never been so relieved, scared and angry in my entire life. I’m so exhausted.
"Why are we fighting?" I ask simply, because I’m also past the point of caring. Nothing makes sense right now. My world had flipped upside down. Yet I do know one thing, and that is that Wonyoung likes me and I really like her.
"I don't know." She replies truthfully.
I stare at for as long as I can before turning my attention back to the road. Shit, she’s pretty. She’s so perfect. Even when we’re fighting, even when I’m hurt, even when she’s heartbroken, she’s the most gorgeous girl in the world. I really could never stay mad at her, even if I tried.
And that’s my biggest problem, by the way. Back track, and forget everything I’ve ever said. Wonyoung is my problem; the type of problem I never want to get over.
"Do you want to sleep on it?"
"Sure."