Think Twice: Yes or Yes

That's What You Do To Me

"Shit. What time is it?"

8:36 a.m. Friday morning. One day before the MAMA event. I was in Singapore—though no one really knew or cared.

When I brought up the idea of following Twice to Singapore to my supervisor at YG, he laughed. Literally laughed in my face and waved me out of his office like I was some delusional intern. I thought about escalating it to the bosses, but let's be honest—why bother? To them, I'm invisible until they need someone to clean up a mess.

So I did what I always do: swallowed my pride and paid for everything out of pocket. Flight, accommodation, meals—every miserable cent of it. With the stack of bills I juggle each month, plus the monthly payment I had to make to the bosses, I couldn't even afford a decent flight. Business class was a joke, and even the mid-range airlines were a luxury I didn't have. So I crammed myself into an economy seat on some budget carrier, knees pressed to my chest, pretending I didn't hate my life.

Still, I got here. That's what matters, right?

I'd arrived on Wednesday, same as Ansel and Minsoo. But unlike them, I'd been ghosting their messages ever since. What was I supposed to say? "Hey guys, let's meet up at your five-star suite in Marina Bay Sands. Just let me catch a cab from my glorified coffin pod in Kampong Glam first". Yeah, no thanks.

The capsule hotel I found was barely a step above a hostel. A locker, a thin mattress inside a plastic box, and communal showers. But it was cheap, and it let me sleep and shower. What more did I need? Comfort? Dignity? Please.

I wondered what Ansel and Minsoo had been up to these past two days. Minsoo probably played the thoughtful host—city tours, cute cafés, quiet walks through Gardens by the Bay or wherever it is that decent people go. He had that vibe. Responsible. Considerate.

Ansel, on the other hand... With all the money and resources of SM at his fingertips? Who knows. Private dining at a Michelin-starred restaurant? VIP tables at the hottest clubs? Helicopter tours over the skyline, for all I knew. That guy could probably pull off anything with a smile and a wink. Must be nice.

If this was last year—when I still had the title of Production Director—I'd have had resources too. Connections. Budget. Influence. I could've planned something memorable. I might've even had a chance to impress them. All nine of them.

But now? What the hell was I supposed to do? I'd spent the last three days wracking my brain for something—anything—clever or charming or remotely affordable. So far, nothing. Singapore was beautiful, yeah, but it bled money. Everything cost more than it should—from food to souvenirs to public attractions and event tickets. Even the free stuff felt like it came with a surcharge somehow.

And I still had to eat, right? Couldn't exactly charm anyone if I passed out from hunger on day three.

But beyond everything else—the money, the failed plans, the humiliation—there was one thought I couldn't shake from my head: Chou Tzuyu.

Ever since that night two weeks ago, when Chaeyoung stopped herself from telling me something about her, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about it—or her. It was like the mystery lodged itself in my brain and refused to leave. The more I thought about it, the clearer her image became. That face. That presence. Tzuyu.

God... She really was beautiful, wasn't she? I'd only met her once, and yet this strange, aching sense of longing had taken root in me. Maybe that was why I couldn't come up with a single damn idea to impress the group. My mind wasn't with Twice, not as a whole. It was locked on just one of them.

Even after everything—being used and tossed around by a drunk, dominatrix Nayeon, even after fucking Chaeyoung too—my heart, or maybe just my obsession, was still drawn to Tzuyu. Quietly. Unrelentingly.