Chapter Text
Soyeon was sick.
She had been for a very long time now.
She could hardly remember when it first started–the symptoms had stopped feeling foreign long ago. The tickle in her throat, the lingering urge to cough– to expel whatever phantom itch was ever-present in her body. The pain in her chest, the way something seemed to wrap around her ribs, tighter and tighter.
The quickening of her heart, the fluttering of her stomach.
The swift flush of her cheeks every time Song Yuqi entered the room.
She had ignored it at first. Soyeon was terribly prone to overworking herself, focusing so intensely until her eyes refused to stay open any longer and her body gave out from exhaustion. More often than not, it had been Yuqi, while taller than her, had still managed to shrink herself down as she knocked hesitantly on her office door, offering a well needed break wrapped up in an excuse of tea and snacks.
She must have been working too hard– with the upcoming debut and all– and Yuqi just happened to be there to pull her out of the hole she dug herself into. It was logical reasoning, and Soyeon allowed herself to chalk up the mysterious sickness to that.
Except it didn’t go away.
Her ribcage would feel like it was about to implode during early morning dance practices, when Yuqi would goof off with Shuhua, teasing and boisterous. Her eyes would linger across the other girl’s face as Yuqi would speak animatedly– confidently, despite her limited Korean– during behind the scenes interviews. The Chinese girl would throw a careless smile her way and her pulse would throb under her skin, head spinning wildly out of control.
It took Soyeon an embarrassingly long time to connect the dots to whatever symptoms she was experiencing to the constant upbeat presence of her younger groupmate. It took her an even more embarrassingly long time to be able to admit to herself what was going on to begin with.
She was in love.
It felt ironic, in a way, Soyeon had mused to herself, sometime late into the night after her personal confession. She never believed herself to have a very auspicious life. Her dreams were crushed, over and over again, first as a ballet dancer, then as a street dancer, then a singer and an idol. When she finally made it by the skin of her teeth, she still couldn’t escape the taunts about her appearance, her voice, her talent. Every good thing that had happened to her seemed to come with something waiting to take it back.
Love, it seemed, was no exception.
Soyeon had sulked with this realization until the sun rose again, and Yuqi greeted her with such enthusiasm, puppy-dog eyes sparkling at her and only her, the older girl couldn’t help but think that, just for a moment, maybe it was possible after all.
It was her own fault. She should have known better.
A week later, any semblance of hope she had cautiously nursed about the whole ordeal had been torn to shreds, when the cough came suddenly, harsh enough to make her flinch.
Something escaped from her lips in a soft puff.
“Soyeon, are you okay?” Yuqi bounded back towards her, eyes big and round with concern. Her hair, freshly permed and dyed, bounced across her shoulders in perfect little waves. It tugged on Soyeon’s heartstrings, and something else rooted deep in her chest. Her throat was scratching again, itching with another cough.
She covered her mouth instinctively, offering a small smile of reassurance that crinkled her eyes. “I’m fine, it’s just a cough. You go ahead, okay?”
The younger girl nodded energetically and jogged to follow the rest of the girls, who’d left the practice room for lunch.
The pressure in Soyeon’s chest kept building and building until she met another particularly violent round of hacking, causing her to double over. Another spray of yellow hit her palm, and the burning in her chest finally receded.
Soyeon could only barely manage to stare at the spattering of pollen on her hand, horror fueled dread settling gently into her stomach, like a dandelion finds root in the grass. Her mind whirled in a panic, it was all too much. Their debut was in only a few days time, rehearsals were never ending and now… she was spitting pollen out of her lungs. Tears pricked at her eyes, breaths labouring.
She was the leader of their group. She wasn’t allowed to break, not when everything she’s ever wanted was in reach, not when everyone depended on her to bring them to success.
Soyeon brushed the pollen off on her sweatpants, wiped the wetness from her eyes and kept moving.
--
It would be another year until Soyeon visited her local fortune teller, while visiting her parents in Busan. It had been too long since her last session, when she’d asked him about the success of her career over the phone, the day of their debut. The groups’ performance had been doing well ever since, but Soyeon really wanted to ask again. Just in case.
It wasn’t the easiest, trying to hide the pollen that seemed to expel itself in sudden coughing fits. It definitely didn’t make it easier since it seemed to come out particularly when Yuqi was around.
And Yuqi was around a lot.
Despite just being in the group with her, it seemed that the girl would haunt her everywhere she went; at her dorm, where she would stay up late until Soyeon’s workaholic tendencies decided to relinquish themselves; in the advertisements that plagued Seoul.
Soyeon tried not to think about it. It made it all the more easier to deal with whatever was going on with her.
She didn’t think about the way Yuqi’s hand brushed over her own, sending sparks up her arm as she insisted on helping her pack a meager travel bag that really was a one person job.
She didn’t think about the small hint of blue that appeared when she coughed that morning, after Yuqi hugged her goodbye at the train station, lingering a second too long.
Maybe, she thought, burying the lower half of her face into her bag, suppressing another oncoming cough as she waved back to Yuqi, a too-wide smile plastered on the younger girl’s face. This condition is just making me delusional.
The fortune-teller was a small, balding man in a modernized hanbok suit. His shop was in a small apartment above a grocery store, unglamorous and unassuming. He smiled when he saw her, lamenting about how it had been so long since his favourite customer had visited him, and ushered her inside with a plate of butter cookies that Soyeon had to regretfully refuse.
“I’m watching my figure,” she told him, apologetic. The old man wrinkled his nose, muttering something about youth and vanity under his breath. She eased herself down at a lacquer table, the plastic stool uncomfortable, yet familiar; smokey incense filling her nose as the fortune-teller swept the stacked tarot cards across the surface in a smooth, red arc.
“Would you like a general reading, or do you have a particular question in mind?”
Soyeon smiled slightly, “I think you know.”
The man scoffed loudly. “Always with career, you. Why don’t you ask me about love for once? That would be more interesting than hearing the same thing I’ve told you again and again.”
“I just want to make sure,” Soyeon protested. “And besides, I don’t have much room for love, anyways.”
“Nonsense,” the fortuneteller stacked the cards back up into a pile shuffling them with movements too smooth for his wrinkled hands. “Your soul is pure, and love will come with time.”
Soyeon snorts. “I wish I were as optimistic as you.”
“Well, of course you’re not. That’s why you’re here, seeing me.”
Soyeon didn’t have anything to say to that. “You will get a general reading,” the old man decided with an air of finality. “I’m bored, and you need more prospects than just your employment.”
He fanned out the cards before her again, tapping at the table. “Pick three cards.”
The girl sighed, and tapped three cards anyway without lifting them. The man pulled the cards out and brushed the rest of them away. He laid the three pieces before her, before moving on with his spiel.
“Each of these cards represent your past, present and future.”
He taps the cards one at a time, from left to right.
“First, the past.”
He flips the leftmost card, revealing an intricate design etched into the cardboard. “Strength. Inner strength, bravery, compassion and focus. You’ve worked very hard to get to where you are today, there have been many trials and tribulations, but you’ve overcome them all with grace and humility. You support those around you, while still remaining focused on your true passions.”
Soyeon nods. Her heart, for some reason, was beating intensely, even more so than their group’s debut.
“Second card, temperance. The middle path, patience, finding meaning.”
The man sighed. “Two sides are pulling you in opposing directions, and you hold the burden of trying to satisfy both of them. You have also made a very important discovery about yourself recently, and that will change or impact the trajectory of your life.”
Soyeon froze a little.
“Last card, the future.”
The card flipped with enough intensity, it felt like a death sentence as Soyeon realized which card it was without even being told.
The lovers.
Reversed.
She felt her heart stutter in her chest, and something else tightening its hold.
The fortune teller continued, oblivious. “Loss of balance, one-sidedness. Disharmony.”
“Something will happen in the near future that will change your life. You have built something stable right now, but something will test your very foundations. And-”
The old man frowned, glancing back down at the card.
“You’re hiding something.”
Soyeon’s stomach clenched.
“You’re harbouring something in a special relationship of yours, and you’re worried that the other doesn’t feel the same. It will ruin you.”
She swallowed, mouth dry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The fortune teller seemed to age a decade as he stared at the card, then back into her eyes. “It’s happening already, isn’t it?”
“No. You’re wrong,” Soyeon suddenly felt like she was a cornered animal, every instinct in her being telling her to run, run, run.
“Don’t lie to me, kid. Something’s the matter with you.”
The old man’s intense gaze felt like it was boring into her very soul. Of course, it was at this time Soyeon felt the oh, so familiar itch climbing up her trachea, seemingly being pushed out at the mention of the illness. “I- I’m fine,” she stammered out, when her chest was lit up in flames.
She covered her mouth as a cough ripped itself from her mouth, body shuddering. Something escaped through her teeth, slipping out between her fingers.
A small pale petal fell from her hand, landing like a delicate omen.
They both stared at the petal, Soyeon in alarm, the fortune-teller in grave understanding.
“You have the flower vomiting disease.”
“I-” Soyeon could barely speak as another petal was spit out from her mouth in a desperate choke.
Three more petals, all of the same size and shape spilled from her mouth, floating like pieces of snow, the fortune teller swiping them up from the air in a single motion.
He inspected them, turning them slowly in his hands as Soyeon couldn’t do anything but watch, throat burning from the effort.
“Gardenia petals,” he decided. “Who is it?”
“What?”
“Who is it? Who is causing this?”
“I don’t understand.”
“You are in love, my dear girl. This is the price for your feelings.”
Soyeon just stared, the words sinking into her heart, a silent confirmation of all her worst fears.
The lovers, reversed.
One-sidedness.
It will be your ruin.
“She doesn’t love me back.”
The words slipped out like a whisper, a secret that didn’t want to be told. The man looked back at her gravely; regret, sympathy, pity wreathing his eyes.
“She doesn’t love me back.”
Soyeon slowly nodded to herself in quiet acceptance.
“Thank you,” Soyeon whispered, gathering her purse. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her heart felt like a stake had been pushed through it, careless and cruel. She supposed she should have expected it. Nothing good ever comes to Jeon Soyeon without its price.
“Some free advice, Soyeon,” the fortuneteller smiled sadly, guiding her to the door. “Get over whatever this is, quickly. The more you love, the more they will grow. One day, they will consume you.
It will not be an easy death.”
--
Something was wrong with Soyeon.
Soojin knew this. She was honestly disappointed in herself that she didn’t notice sooner.
In her defense, she was a little bit busy these past few years, hogged by a certain wolf who seemed to jump and leap for just a shred of her attention. Soojin smiled, unbeknownst to herself at the thought of Shuhua. Every hug and peck seemed to be breaking down her cold facade every day that went by.
Wait. Focus on the matter at hand.
Soojin beat herself up internally. This is precisely why she didn’t realize in the first place.
She marched her way down the dark and empty company hallways, letting the one, small streak of light peeking out lead her way. Despite the door being sound-proof, the muffled cacophony of beats and unfinished melodies pulsated louder and louder as she approached.
“Soyeon?” Soojin knocked loudly against the frosted glass. “I know you’re in there!”
The music somehow got louder. Soojin scoffed.
“Soyeon!”
A small muffled sound. The chair rolled around, a shadow fanning through the crack of the door. Soojin banged her fist harder.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”
A heaving sigh. The music paused. Soojin crossed her arms over her chest and waited as a shadow approached. “Please leave me alone.”
Soojin hesitated. Soyeon, even broken down in all the evaluations and unwarranted criticism from the public, had never sounded so defeated and meek in her life. “Soyeon,” she started again, softer this time around. “It’s me.”
“I know, Jin. It’s just… It's late. You should be home.”
“I could say the same thing about you.”
Soyeon let out a breathless laugh from behind the door. “You know how I am.”
“I do. Which is why I know that this is the only way I’ll be able to talk to you. Do you know what time it is, Sso?”
“One?”
“Four A.M. We have a schedule tomorrow- well, today, at six.”
A pause.
“Fuck.”
Soojin sighed. “I know something’s wrong with you, Sso. Please let me in.”
“I… Please. Just, go.”
“I said I wasn’t leaving.” The older girl blew the bangs out of her face, stubbornly crossing her arms tighter. “Let me in, or I’m coming in myself.”
She huffed as Soyeon refused to answer. “I’m giving you a count of three.”
“One…”
“Jin, please.”
“Two…”
“Fuck.” Muffled cursing pushed its way through the door, as Soyeon’s shadow scrambled, panicked, audibly pushing things around.
“Three.”
Just as Soojin grabbed the handle, the door flew open itself, a smaller, rumpled girl standing on the other side. She was shivering, stuffed in an oversized T-shirt and sweatpants, an outfit much too warm for the current temperature, arms wrapped around herself protectively. She looked up, face gaunt, resigned eyes rimmed with the darkest circles Soojin had ever seen. Oh.
“You look... terrible.” Soojin managed, eyes wide. The other girl had the audacity to laugh.
“Don’t I know it.” Soyeon scoffed, dry and hoarse, before retreating back to her desk chair in small, shuffled steps. “Is that all you wanted to say?”
“Soyeon, I’m worried about you,” Soojin let her mouth move on her own, rehearsed words spilling from her lips plainly. “I haven’t heard from you in, well, forever. You refuse every invitation to hang out with the rest of the girls, you’re always stuck in your office or on your own, I don’t- I know something’s wrong. Just let me help.”
Soyeon spun around in her chair, smoothly kicking her garbage can under her desk, away from view. Soojin narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t know what to say,” she shrugged. “I’m fine, I’m just busy.”
“You always say that. You’re always busy, but you used to find time. Everyone misses you, but everyone’s too scared to bother you.”
“Except for you.”
“Except for me.”
Soyeon glared at her, dark eyes making her seem even more menacing than normal. Soojin matched her intensity.
The shorter girl inhaled sharply.
“Want to hear my new demo?”
“I- what?” The older girl falters, blinking rapidly. “Don’t change the subject. Do you know what you’re doing to everyone else?”
“It’s kind of different, but that’s what we do, isn’t it? Honestly, it is kind of a weird concept, but I was thinking angels and devils-”
“Miyeon thinks she’s failed as an older sister-”
“Honestly, I was thinking of just four songs for this one-”
“Even Shuhua’s worried-”
“Four tracks is enough, right?”
“Yuqi’s been inconsolable-”
Soyeon froze. Soojin, finally finding the crack she needed in Soyeon’s indifference, kept pushing. “She’s been sulking around and making it everyone else’s problem. She thinks you have a grudge with her specifically, even though I’ve already told her that that’s not the case-”
“Stop.”
“Stop what? She’s really been knocking at your door every night-”
“Soojin, please. Please stop.” Soyeon covered her ears, tucking her knees close to her chest. The other girl kept going, fueled by her reaction.
“And she waits by the kitchen until midnight, even when she has an early schedule tomorrow-”
“Soojin!”
“What?”
“I-”
Soyeon spun around, covering her mouth with her hands as her back shook, hushed retches and coughs echoing through the room.
“Sso?”
Soyeon's gags got louder, her small body doubling over as Soojin finally came to her senses, rushing over. “Are you okay? Breathe with me, okay?”
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Soyeon sucked in a large, heaving gasp of air.
“There,” she rasped, voice shaking as she held out her hands, letting the large, purple-ish petals fall. Soojin stepped back, droplets of red splattering onto the ground alongside them. Soyeon didn’t even seem fazed, just looked at her reapings with a strange sort of detachment. “You’ve figured it out.”
Soojin just stared. “Wha- What is that?”
“Petals. Flowers. I’m not entirely sure.”
Soojin couldn’t speak.
Soyeon’s voice was flat as she continued, eyes still trained at the petals on the floor.
“Someone told me it was called the flower-vomiting disease. Seems accurate, doesn’t it?”
“I-”
“Apparently it happened because I’m in love with someone who doesn’t love me back.”
“Sso…” Soojin felt her heart break as she pieced the situation together. “Yuqi?”
“I can’t be around her. It gets worse when I am.”
“How long?”
Soyeon finally looked back at her, eyes dead. “Two years.”
Soojin choked. “Two years?!”
“It’s easier to avoid all of you instead of just her. She would have sulked even more.”
“That is…” The older girl sighed. “That is true.”
“See?” Soyeon bared her teeth in a bitter smile. “I’m smart about this.”
“No, you’re not.” Soojin moved around swiftly, kicking aside the petals as she knelt in front of her. “I’m so sorry you thought that you had to deal with this by yourself.”
“I love her, Soojin.” Soyeon suddenly seemed so small, so vulnerable as she let herself be wrapped in the older girl’s arms. “I love her and it’s killing me.”
“We’ll figure it out. I’ll be here with you.”
“Don’t tell anyone, please?”
“I won’t.”
And Soojin meant it.
--
Soojin was a good listener.
Soyeon had always known that, her friend carrying the brunt of her rants of the responsibility and delegations thrown onto a young, nineteen year old’s shoulders for the past few years.
It was different, Soyeon supposed, when that friend knew that she was going to die soon.
It was different, when that friend knew that she was a self-destructive coward, and still loved her all the same.
Everything felt… lighter in a way, when she wasn’t suffering alone.
Soyeon unlocked the door to the dormitories, the vines around her ribcage eased from Soojin’s words of encouragement. It had been so long since she felt any sense of relief from the flowers, Soyeon finally felt like she could breathe.
The keys jingled as the door slowly creaked open. Soyeon winced, it was late, too late for any of her roommates to be awake, both Minnie and Yuqi susceptible to being woken up at a moment's notice. Soyeon would rather not deal with a sleep-deprived Minnie; Soojin had told her how worried the older girl was, and thus just how much more irritable she was.
As for Yuqi… Soyeon would rather not deal with her at all.
She sighed, kicking off her sneakers, mind wandering to comfy beds and manga and other pointless things she hadn’t had the time to think about. The comeback, as per usual, had taken too much of her precious free time– that and the incredibly inconvenient disease that plagued her constantly.
Her socked feet shuffled her in the direction of the kitchen, stomach rumbling.
Soyeon froze.
The kitchen light was already on.
Shit.
She could retreat right now, stumble back into her shoes and run to Soojin’s dormitory, run like she’d always had. It would be so easy, so simple– she took a step back, her foot pressing against a particularly creaky floorboard. Soyeon cursed silently into the void.
“Soyeon?”
And Soyeon would be damned if she didn’t recognize the very voice she had tried to avoid for the past two years.
The flowers in her lungs excitedly tightened around her trachea, leaves shuffling against her ribcage.
Her voice comes out in a whisper.
“Yuqi?”
The girl in question lifted her head off the meager kitchen island, blinking blearily as she wiped the lingering remnants of sleep from her eyes. Her right cheek was partially squished by her obvious nap against the counter. Soyeon’s heart squeezed in a way that had nothing to do with the vines.
“You’re home!”
Yuqi’s face split into a smile that lit up the room more than the lousy stove-top light ever could.
Soyeon’s mouth curved rigidly. “Yeah,” she managed. “I am.”
She remained stiffly at the corner of the room, the dim lighting barely grazing her face. Yuqi’s grin dimmed obviously. She had never really been good at hiding her emotions. Soyeon ducked her head.
“Where have you been?”
“I- um.” Soyeon shuffled her feet, words sticking to her mouth like taffy. “At the company. Comeback and all.”
“Right.” The other girl chuckled humourlessly to herself. “Always working.”
Soyeon frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you know.” Yuqi’s smile returned, although not quite reaching her eyes this time. “Are you hungry? I can cook something for you if you are.”
“No, I-” Soyeon stepped back. She was hungry, but she wasn't about to stay in a room with Yuqi for longer than she needed to. “I’m okay. I’m just going to… go to bed.”
Vines, vines, vines. Breathe.
“Why are you ignoring me?”
“Huh?” Soyeon startled as her head shot up meeting Yuqi’s tired gaze as she continued, voice surprisingly even for such an emotional character.
“Did I do something?”
“No? No. You didn’t do anything.”
Yuqi slowly slid off her stool, feet bringing her to an unknowing pace. “I didn’t do anything, but I don’t see you around unless it’s at dance practice or if I pass by you around at the company. I didn’t do anything, but you haven’t managed to hold a conversation with me unless there’s a camera in our faces. I didn’t do anything, but this is the first time you’ve looked me in the eyes since the last promotion.”
Her voice rose to half a shout before calming herself down, Soyeon cowering away from her. “Tell me, Sso. How am I supposed to believe you when you say I haven’t ‘done anything’?”
“I’m sorry.”
It was all Soyeon could think to say. Yuqi appeared before her, face suddenly too close to her own. Her throat constricted, feeling the other girl’s breaths hit her lips.
“I’m not mad,” Yuqi whispered. Her hand lifted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Soyeon’s ear. “I just want to know how I can fix it.”
Yuqi swallowed.
“I miss you, Sso.”
Soyeon forgot how to breathe.
She remained frozen, thankful the light was too dim for Yuqi to see the flush on her face, no doubt reaching all the way down to her neck. She forced her mouth to move, pushing down the petals shifting around at the base of her throat. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
Yuqi sighed.
“You should get some sleep.”
And then she was gone.
“Oh, fuck,” Soyeon gasped, the flowers finally crawling their way up into her mouth aggressively, her arms grasping at the island as she pushed herself to stumble to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She fell to her knees in front of the toilet, pushing open the cover and retching into it.
Her stomach contracted, forcing something larger than Soyeon had ever felt higher and higher, as bloody petals pushed past her lips and she was throwing up in horrible choking sounds that never seemed to end.
The nausea finally coughed its way into her mouth, spilling through her teeth and an entire flower splashes into the toilet, gracefully baring its petals as it slowly sank to the bottom of the porcelain.
Soyeon blinked, too exhausted and worn out to even manage to be horrified at the new development.
She threw up a flower.
A whole flower with yellow and orange petals, murked from the toilet water.
Her hand reached for her phone, shaking as her fingers curled around its side. She stared at Soojin’s contact for a long time, before the screen dimmed again. What could Soojin possibly do in this situation?
She was alone.
Always alone.
Soyeon sat back down, back pressed against the door and remained there until the sun rose again.
--
“Holy shit, let it out, Sso. I’m right here.”
Soojin patted at Soyeon’s back, white sleeves stroking along her own white dress as she gagged over M-Net’s staff toilet. She gathered silver hair into a loose ponytail, keeping it out of the way, trained by routine.
“She’s not feeling very well, is all,” Soyeon had heard Soojin tell the staff in hushed tones, through the bathroom lock. “It’s just something she ate. She’ll be fine for the awards ceremony later today.”
“Jesus, it’s never going to end,” Soyeon gagged, throwing up flower after flower. At some point within the years, thin stems and sharp leaves had begun to come out along with the blossoms, scratching until her throat was raw and bleeding. Soojin shushed her gently, stroking her fingers gently along her cheeks.
“It’s okay, just let it out.”
The toilet looked like a bouquet by the time Soyeon had stopped vomiting, her knees sore and bruised. She leaned against the wall, Soojin wrapping a firm arm around her like she did so many times before.
“I’m so tired, Soo,” Soyeon whispered, leaning her head onto her friend’s shoulder.
“I know.” Soojin replied, like she always did. All reassurances that seemed to soothe the garden growing wild within her body. Soyeon knew it was only for a matter of time, though. There was only so much relief she could have before the staff forced her back into a scene where Yuqi would peck at her cheeks, smile broad, while Soyeon tried her best to morph her mouth into a convincing grin as flowers grew rampant.
“I need to get back soon,” Soyeon rasped tiredly. She couldn’t bring herself to lift her head off of Soojin, though, no matter how much she knew she needed to.
“Just stay for a moment.”
“Okay.”
Soyeon was never really good at denying Soojin anyway. And Soojin, like the friend she was, knew to keep talking, keep distracting, her soothing voice sneaking into Soyeon’s heart like a balm. Everything on instinct.
Soyeon had wondered, once, how it would feel to love someone so deeply without being constantly tortured for it. She figured her love for Soojin was close enough.
“After the ceremony, I’m thinking of sandwiches from that convenience store you love so much, and maybe some more coffee…”
--
It couldn’t last.
Of course it couldn’t last.
Soojin’s removal from (G)I-dle was announced to the company on an appropriately rainy day, skies gray and mourning. Soyeon had never felt more crushed in her life.
She sat in her office, screens blank as she just stared and stared, wondering what she had done in a previous life for everything to go so wrong in this one.
A knock shocked her out of her stupor. It was so familiar to what happened a few years ago, it almost felt like deja vu.
Soojin poked her head in without shouting through the door, this time. Her eyes were rimmed red, but she still managed to plaster a smile on her face, no matter how much Soyeon could see through the facade.
“You called for me?”
“Come in,” Soyeon’s voice wobbled against her will. She will not cry, she will not make it worse when Soojin was definitely feeling ten times worse than she was. “Sit down.”
Soojin sat, eyes still kind, posture still perfect, like nothing had changed at all, when they both knew everything had.
“I’m leaving,” Soojin began, because of course she did. She knew that Soyeon wouldn’t have the guts to approach the situation. She knew everything.
She always had.
Soyeon inhaled sharply. “You’re leaving.”
“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?” Soojin laughed, despite it all. “This could go on for ages, you know?”
Soyeon broke. “You can’t leave me.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I’ll talk to the company.”
“You know it’ll just hurt you and me both.” Soojin sighed, finality coating her words. “It’s over, Soyeon. There’s nothing we can do.”
“But what will I do?” Soyeon shot back, eyes stinging. “What am I supposed to do without you?”
“Tell someone else,” Soojin suggested, calm. Soyeon shook her head vehemently.
“I can’t. They won’t understand.”
“You don’t know that. You told me.”
“That’s different,” Soyeon protested.
“Soyeon,” Soojin sighed, exasperated. “I’ve seen you before I came to help. You can’t do this alone, again.”
“I can’t.”
She couldn’t explain why. She just… couldn’t. Soojin was different, motherly and somehow knew Soyeon better than she did herself. The others simply weren’t. They weren’t Soojin.
“Then tell her.”
Soyeon let out an incredulous laugh. “Are you serious? If I can’t tell anyone else, what makes you think I can tell her?”
“You’re brave. You can do it.” Soojin shrugged. “I’ve seen her around you, you know? She looks just as infatuated with you as you are to her.”
Soyeon slammed her fist on the desk. It was getting harder and harder to stop the tears from falling down on her cheeks. “I can’t risk any more. I can’t risk everything just because I think she might like me back!”
“I can’t predict what Yuqi will say,” Soojin grabbed her hands from across the table, gaze intense. “But I do know that you’re getting worse. You’re running out of options, Sso.”
Soyeon couldn’t speak, just holding on as Soojin’s lips trembled. “I can’t watch you die, Soyeon. Just promise me you’ll try to tell her.”
Soyeon nodded mutely. Soojin let out a breath of relief, before standing and walking over to her desk.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling Soyeon into a hug, arms tight like she never wanted to let go. Soyeon squeezed her eyes shut as her friend whispered into her ear.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay.”
The door clicked shut softly as Soojin left, a final nail in the coffin.
Soyeon sat, frozen, unable to tear her eyes away.
A new seed settled into her chest, heavy and inescapable. Grief wrapped around her lungs as the sobs finally tore their way out of her, leaving her hollow.