Entangled in Rivalry

If someone had told Seulgi three months ago that she'd end up sharing a house with her mother's new fiancé and his daughter, she would've laughed. Or screamed. Or both.

Now? Well-she's still screaming. But more internally. Mostly.

"I swear to God, if you touch my skincare again, Jaeyi-"

"Relax! I was just borrowing your toner. And serum. And... maybe the snail essence. Your pores look rich, I'm trying to invest."

Seulgi clenched her jaw, gripping the bathroom doorframe like it personally betrayed her. "Your investment plan is going to end in hospital bills."

Living under the same roof as Jaeyi was like signing up for emotional whiplash. One moment she was laughing at Jaeyi doing a ridiculous dance in the kitchen with a burnt pancake on her head; the next, she was staring too long when Jaeyi came home in a sundress that shouldn't be legal.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.

Because Jaeyi wasn't just annoying. Or pretty. Or funny in a way that made Seulgi want to punch a pillow. Jaeyi was her. The kind of chaos Seulgi never asked for but somehow couldn't stop orbiting around.

"You're staring again," Jaeyi teased one evening, perched on the kitchen counter, eating grapes like a Greek goddess with no regard for personal space.

"No, I'm regretting my life choices," Seulgi deadpanned, turning away, ears turning traitorously red.

Jaeyi tilted her head. "Sure you are. Just like how you 'regretted' sitting next to me during movie night. Or how you 'regretted' holding my hand during that thunderstorm."

"That was for safety," Seulgi snapped, grabbing a water bottle just to have something to hold that wasn't Jaeyi's smug face.

"Oh? So if another thunderstorm happens, you'll hold someone else's hand?"

Silence.