The bathroom on the second floor of the Kim & Han building smelled of expensive hand soap and the synthetic jasmine pumped out by an automatic dispenser. Soft piano music drifted from hidden speakers, a calming melody designed to soothe frayed nerves. It wasn't working.
Jihyo locked herself in the farthest stall and sat on the closed lid, her phone clutched in both hands. Her mother was still in the waiting room, probably sipping cold tea and wondering what had gone wrong. Soon, someone would explain it to her. Soon, she would look at Jihyo with an expression Jihyo had never seen before and everything would change.
She opened the calculator app. Entered the six-digit code. The second cloud account bloomed on the screen, a hidden garden of stolen things.
The thumbnails crowded the display. Jennie eating half a sandwich and wrapping the rest for later, her fingers careful and precise. Jennie asleep against her folded arms on a desk, her face soft and unguarded. Jennie watching Jisoo run, her whole body leaning forward as if pulled by a string.
Four hundred twelve photographs. Twenty-three videos. Eleven audio files. A catalogue of obsession, preserved in pixels and code.
Jihyo opened the video, the one from behind the bleachers. The wind scraped over the microphone. Jisoo sat on the ground, her bad knee bent, her chest heaving. Jennie crouched in front of her, asking if she was in pain. Jisoo said something that made her laugh. Seven minutes of nothing. Seven minutes of two people talking in the late afternoon light, their voices too low to catch, their body language easy and familiar. Seven minutes of something that looked, if you squinted, like love.
Then Jennie caught the front of Jisoo's shirt and leaned down.
Jihyo paused the video before their mouths met.
A message appeared at the top of the screen.
Tzuyu: You met Chaerin.
Jihyo stared at it. Her fingers moved without thought.
Jihyo: How do you know?
The reply came instantly.
Tzuyu: Because she had people asking questions about you before school ended. You think we wouldn't notice?
Tzuyu: Did you tell her about the second account?
Jihyo's blood went cold. Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard.
Jihyo: What second account?
Tzuyu: Don't be stupid. Moonbyul found login traces on your laptop. We knew you were hiding something. We gave you a chance to delete everything. You lied to our faces.
Jihyo pressed a hand against her mouth. They didn't have access. Not yet. But they knew. They knew, and they would use it.
Another message:
Tzuyu: We gave you a chance to come clean. You looked us in the eye and pretended you'd deleted everything. Now Chaerin knows, and soon everyone else will too.
Jihyo typed, the words jagged with desperation.
Jihyo: You had no right to corner me.
Tzuyu: And you had no right to collect Jennie like she belonged to you.
The phrase struck harder because Chaerin had used almost the same words. Collect. Like Jennie was a thing to be gathered, hoarded, possessed.
Jihyo: Chaerin asked me to watch her.
Jihyo sent the message before she could think better of it.
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Second Overtime | JENSOO & CHAELISA
FanfictionJisoo is the school's star athlete. Jennie is one of the smartest students in her year. They both hate each other to the core. But when something happens that forces the both of them to work together, will their mutual animosity remain or will some...
