can you see me? / purinz

day drinking

Chaewon sits alone on the flight back to Seoul, thanking all the higher powers of the universe that they have the rest of the day off before practice for the Golden Disc Awards starts the next day. As soon as they make it to the dorm she locks her bedroom door, slumping onto her bed and making a mental note to unpack later.

At times like this when she's overwhelmed by her troubles, Chaewon's best technique is turning all the lights off and burying her face in her pillow. She watches the shapes that float behind her eyelids and lets the rest of the world fade to black, smothering herself in the soft fabric until her breathing calms and her heartbeat slows. Today, though, even the warm cocoon of her bed does nothing to calm her. Today, all she sees is Yunjin's stupid face behind her eyelids, the soft sound of Yunjin's footsteps in the other room driving her crazy because she's right there but never as close as Chaewon wants her. She's finally found a pain that she can't shut out.

How can she forget the night before, the fear in Yunjin's eyes and the words that spilled out and made a mess all over the balcony? How can she forget the feeling of Yunjin's arms around her? Even if she marched into Yunjin's room right then and there and jumped on her, begged to be held and sobbed into Yunjin's shoulder until she ran out of tears, it wouldn't feel the same. She could no longer hold onto the giddy delusion that the two of them were the axis around which the Earth turned and nothing else mattered. She can feel all too well now the world's eyes on them, even in the privacy of the dorm.

Chaewon hears a soft knock on her door and raises her head.

"It's Yunjin, can I come in?"

"What do you want?" It comes out meaner than Chaewon intended. She isn't angry at Yunjin, how could she ever be? She's just exhausted, sure that her heart will give out if it gets battered any longer.

"We used to always spend our days off together," Yunjin says in a small voice.

She's right. On days like this they would usually go to Han River and walk hand in hand, or try a new cafe and pick out drinks for each other, or stay in and cuddle in one of the awkwardly small twin beds, maintaining that there was nothing more than friendship between them. It had been so much easier then, with everything unsaid. Chaewon had promised Yunjin that they'd still be friends, but trying to recreate things as they were before would only prolong the pain, that much she knows.

"I can't today, Yunjin," Chaewon says weakly, "I'm sorry."

"Oh."

Yunjin's voice sounds hollow and Chaewon briefly contemplates throwing the door open and falling into her arms, kissing her face, taking her into the bed and promising that things will be as they always have been.

"That's okay," Yunjin says, "I hope you, um, feel better."

Then she's gone and Chaewon is alone again but now aching with the loss of Yunjin's presence, longing to hear her sweet voice one more time through the door. Chaewon puts her earbuds in and scrolls through her playlist to crowd out the room's sudden emptiness, but even that is infected with Yunjin. Each song is a shared memory or a recommendation or simply too full of that word, that ugly four-letter-word that Chaewon never wants to hear again as long as she lives. She finally gives up on the music and lays on her back, letting the tears flow freely down her face and collect on the pillowcase. She doesn't know when she falls asleep, but she wakes up with her face dry from its saltwater rinse and a sharp knocking on the still-locked door.

"Open up!" Eunchae calls.

Chaewon rubs her eyes, drowsily getting to her feet and opening the door. Eunchae, Sakura, and Kazuha are waiting for her with a box of tissues, a pint of mint chocolate ice cream, and four spoons.