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“You have to go this time,” Hayoon says decisively. “You skipped the last two. They’re going to think you’re avoiding them.”
“I am avoiding them,” Hyebin says from Hayoon’s bed.
Hayoon glares at Hyebin in the mirror over her shoulder. Hyebin flops onto her back so she can’t see the mirror anymore.
“You don’t have to stay for long,” Hayoon pleads, turning around and approaching the bed. “Just an hour or two. For me. Please.”
“I don’t even have clothes for a party,” Hyebin whines.
Hyebin’s not avoiding Jaehwa and Sanghee. She’s avoiding their parties. There’s a difference.
It’s not personal. She just doesn’t like parties. She doesn’t like hot crowded rooms full of drunk college kids and bad music. She doesn’t like awkward conversations with unlikable strangers who are only looking to hook up. She doesn’t like standing by the wall on her phone and watching people flirt with Hayoon.
Which is definitely going to happen tonight, because Hayoon looks fucking gorgeous. She’s in a red velvet dress that hugs her perfectly, hair pulled into cute pigtails, makeup accentuating all her best features.
Hyebin flings an arm over her eyes in despair. What a dumb idea falling for her roommate was.
“You can borrow something from me,” Hayoon says, prying Hyebin’s arm away.
“That’s not the point,” Hyebin says. She doesn’t want to borrow something from Hayoon. She wants to stay home and wear pajamas. If Jaehwa and Sanghee think she hates them because of it, it might be worth it for a peaceful Saturday night.
Hayoon isn’t having it. She heads to her closet, rifling through it for a second before grabbing something and throwing it at Hyebin.
The hanger narrowly misses her head. She picks it up, and-
“Is this strapless?”
“It’ll look good on you,” Hayoon says.
Hyebin can feel her cheeks heating up even as she’s forced to question the feasibility of the little black dress. “I don’t have tits, is it even going to fit?”
Hayoon laughs. “Just trust me.”
“I don’t know...” Hyebin doesn’t wear strapless...anything, ever. It’s a bit...bold.
“I can find you something else if you’re uncomfortable,” Hayoon says. “But you should at least try it on. I’ll close my eyes.” She makes a real show of turning around and holding a hand daintily over her eyes.
Hyebin takes a deep breath and stands up. Slips off her pajama pants, takes off her t-shirt. Shimmies into the dress.
Well, it does fit.
She walks over to Hayoon’s dresser to look at herself in the mirror. It looks better than she expected a dress this fitted to look on her, to be honest.
She puts her hands on her hips. Takes in her bare shoulders, and how the silhouette of the dress leaves little to the imagination. She feels a little bit sexy but a lot bit exposed and like she still doesn’t want to go to this party.
“It’s...okay,” Hyebin says.
Hayoon turns back around and uncovers her eyes. “Oh my God. You look stunning.”
Hyebin really wishes Hayoon wouldn’t say things like that so casually. This dress is so tight she can probably see Hyebin’s heart rate pick up. “I guess.”
“I can tell you don’t want to wear it, though,” Hayoon says.
“I really don’t.”
“That’s okay,” Hayoon says. “We have plenty of other options.”
They cycle through a few of them before settling on another black dress. This one is longer and looser, and has sleeves and pockets. It’s an improvement all-around.
“It’s so cute on you,” Hayoon says, watching as Hyebin stands at the mirror and swishes the skirt around with her hands in the pockets. “You should really dress up more often.”
Hyebin can feel her resolve crumbling by the second.
She should know better; Hayoon doles out compliments like it’s as essential to her as breathing. Not that that means they’re empty words – she only gives the ones she means – but they aren’t special, either.
The problem is that they feel special to Hyebin, and that combined with the fact that she has a hard time saying “no” to Hayoon to begin with means she’s gonna have to go to this fucking party.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Hyebin replies, but she’s resigned herself to her fate. “I’ll do it tonight. For social obligations and because you asked nicely.”
“Perfect.” Hayoon claps excitedly. “Now for our next order of business: what are we going to do about your makeup?”
“...the same I always do?” Neutral eyeshadow, mascara, maybe fill in her brows a bit.
Hayoon looks like she’s trying to figure out how to reject the idea gently. “If this is the only time you’re dressing up, don’t you want to make it count?”
“No,” Hyebin says.
Hayoon rubs her chin contemplatively.
“I have an idea. What if I did your makeup?” she says with a tone that makes it clear the contemplation was for show and this was her plan all along. She gauges Hyebin’s expression, which must be just short of “horror” based on how Hayoon chooses to continue. “I promise I’ll keep it light. I won’t even do foundation. Just some glitzier eyeshadow than you usually do. And eyeliner. And properly do your eyebrows. Pretty please?”
God, Hyebin is too easy. “Pretty please” is really all it takes. Still, she has an image to uphold. She lets out as heavy of a sigh as she can manage. “Fine.”
Hayoon nearly squees, heading to her dresser to rummage through her makeup drawers.
Hyebin sits at the edge of the bed in the meantime, kicking her feet and wondering what they’re going to do about shoes – they wear different sizes, she won’t be able to borrow from Hayoon when Hayoon is inevitably appalled by Hyebin’s lack of anything to go with this dress.
Hayoon returns to the bed with a handful of supplies. She sets them down on the comforter and looks over Hyebin like an artist inspecting a blank canvas. Hyebin shifts uncomfortably.
“I want to do something with your hair, first,” Hayoon says. She leans in a bit to take a section of Hyebin’s hair and begins to gently braid it. She is very close and smells very nice. This is a nightmare.
Hayoon finishes the braid, stretching back to her dresser to grab a hair tie to finish it off, then does another on the other side of Hyebin’s head.
“Cute,” Hayoon says when she’s done, running her hands through Hyebin’s loose hair to smooth it, and it’s hard to tell if she means the braids or Hyebin. “Makeup time now. Can you close your eyes and tilt your chin up?”
A blessing in disguise that Hyebin has to have her eyes closed. Lowers the risk that she might combust during this process.
She feels a fingertip on her eyelid, then a brush. The same on the other eye. A warm hand on her shoulder.
Then: “you need to stop fidgeting.”
“I wasn’t aware I was fidgeting,” Hyebin says.
“Well, you are, so sit still. I need to do your eyeliner and I don’t want to fuck it up.”
“Sorry.” Her solution is to try to think about anything other than what’s happening. Anything except the fact that Hayoon leans in closer, so close the ends of her pigtails tickle Hyebin’s collarbones. She doesn’t think at all about the way Hayoon steadies her with a hand at the side of her head, fingers cradling the back of her neck and thumb pressing her jaw into place.
Yes, Hyebin is absolutely not thinking about the way that thumb starts to rub gentle circles at her jawline, or about how it all happens again when Hayoon does the other eye, or about how they move onto mascara and Hayoon asks her to open her eyes so she can get the bottom lashes and there’s a moment of eye contact that lasts longer than it probably should because Hyebin can’t seem to get herself to look away.
Hyebin realizes what she’s doing and darts her eyes up to the ceiling as she was originally instructed, but she still catches an amused smile tugging at Hayoon’s lips.
Hayoon at least has the decency not to say anything about it. “Almost done,” she says, pulling away. “I just have to do your brows, and then we can be on our merry way to the party.”
Party, right. Hyebin almost forgot this is preparation for a party she doesn’t want to go to and not just a hyper-realistic dream. Maybe she’ll die of embarrassment before the party and be spared.
-
Hyebin is not spared. She lives to see the party.
She wasn’t prepared for how much ado would be made about her outfit. Hayoon acting like a proud pageant mom was one thing, but Jaehwa downright coos when she greets them at the door. Sanghee does the same when she sees Hyebin a few minutes later.
But it’s not the worst party Hyebin’s ever been to. Hayoon sticks with her for the first few minutes before getting sucked into a conversation with a group of kids she recognizes and Hyebin quietly slips away to mingle on her own.
By “mingle,” she means participate in a few awkward conversations, then sit on her phone for a while, then breathe an audible sigh of relief when she sees Taekwoon and Wonshik walk in.
Taekwoon, like Jaehwa and Sanghee, coos at Hyebin when he sees her. Wonshik decides against it, probably because Hyebin’s reaction to Taekwoon is to hit him in the shoulder and tell him to shut the fuck up.
Still, she’s happy to see them. Taekwoon is just as, if not more party-averse than Hyebin – Wonshik must have dragged him here – so at least now Hyebin can have some company as she sulks in a corner.
Wonshik, admittedly, is not much of a party person either. He is, however, a Jaehwa person, and will never turn down an invitation to a social gathering that she’s a part of. As such, he comes to these parties with grand plans of finally making a move on her every time and then immediately chickens out every time.
“Well, you know why I’m here,” Taekwoon says, gesturing at the patented Wonshik Mating Dance that’s occurring on the other side of the room. “Why are you here?”
“Masochism,” Hyebin answers when she makes the mistake of looking away from Wonshik for a second and catches Hayoon too close to a guy who is too attractive.
“That explains the outfit,” Taekwoon says.
“It’s Hayoon’s,” Hyebin says. Including the shoes – turns out Hayoon had a pair too small for herself gathering dust in the closet, who knew? “She did my makeup too.”
Taekwoon smiles over the rim of his cup as he takes a sip. “That must have been fun for you.”
“I almost died,” Hyebin says.
“This is why I keep saying you have to just tell her you like her,” Taekwoon says. “Near-death experiences aren’t good for your health.”
“I would rather die.”
Sanghee has now joined Jaehwa and Wonshik. She appears to be laughing at Wonshik – he must have already hit the “give up on the mating dance” phase of the mating dance.
At least he tries, which makes him only the second-most hopeless person in the room. Some people don’t try at all, they just get their makeup done and have an internal crisis.
“I don’t understand why you can’t tell her,” Taekwoon says.
“She’s my roommate, for starters,” Hyebin says.
“Haven’t we all fucked a roommate or two?” Taekwoon says with a shrug.
“We most certainly have not,” Hyebin says emphatically, and then notices Taekwoon is still looking at Wonshik. “Oh my God. Please do not tell me the roommate you’re referring to is Wonshik. I’ll have to bleach my brain.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Taekwoon says coyly, which means Hyebin is stopping at the store for some bleach on the way home. He pauses and watches Wonshik for another second. “Sanghee is laughing at him again. Should one of us go rescue him?”
“It would have to be you. I’m not gonna be able to look him in the eyes after what you just told me.”
“That’s fair,” Taekwoon sighs, handing Hyebin his drink. “I’ll be back.”
Hyebin doesn’t have to be alone for long; Taekwoon has barely gotten across the room to Wonshik when she sees Hayoon walking towards her.
Maybe it’s the way this room is lit mostly with string lights, or the half a watered-down drink Hyebin has in her, but Hayoon looks even prettier now than she did when they left the apartment. She’s practically glowing, smiling bright at Hyebin as she approaches.
She eyes the drinks in each of Hyebin’s hands. “I know you don’t like parties, but this seems a little drastic.”
“It’s Taekwoon’s,” Hyebin says quickly. “He had to go stop Wonshik from making a fool of himself.”
“That sounds like a lost cause,” Hayoon says. “I hope you’re having an okay time, though? I didn’t mean to abandon you earlier, I just got talking to people and-”
“It’s fine,” Hyebin says. “Taekwoon’s been babysitting me.”
“I wasn’t saying that you need babysitting,” Hayoon says. “But I’m glad you’re not too miserable. I was worried I was being pushy when I made you come.”
“You were,” Hyebin says flatly. “It’s okay, though. I need to be pushed sometimes. I’m having fun now, don’t worry.”
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
“Well, maybe I’d be having more fun if you hadn’t made me wear these fucking shoes; my feet are killing me. And the dress is a little uncomfortable too.”
Hayoon laughs. “I’m sorry. You look beautiful, if it’s any consolation.”
“Not enough,” Hyebin says. Never mind the fact that she honest to God just felt her heart skip a beat.
It’s meant to be a joke, but it makes Hayoon’s smile taper a bit. “Okay, I have to ask you something – and maybe this isn’t the right place to do it, but I have to know.”
“Um,” Hyebin says, taken aback by the sudden shift. She glances down at the drinks in her hands and contemplates downing one. “Okay. Go ahead.”
“Every time I try to flirt with you, you respond like...that, and I can’t tell if it’s because you aren’t interested, or you just don’t know how else to respond, or-”
Every time she tries to what?
“Every time you try to what?” Hyebin says.
Hayoon blinks a few times. “What?”
“What?” Hyebin echoes. “When did you flirt with me?”
“30 seconds ago when I called you ‘beautiful?’”
Hyebin opens her mouth, then shuts it again.
“Did you not know I was flirting with you?” Hayoon asks, sounding a little bit amused and a little bit exasperated.
“I...”
“Hyebin. That was, like, the fourth time tonight. You didn’t pick up on any of that?”
“I...” Oh, dear. This information is so overwhelming that Hyebin’s brain has evidently decided to pack it up for the night.
Hayoon makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “You’re so damn cute, I don’t even have the heart to be frustrated – and yes, I am flirting when I call you ‘cute.’”
Maybe Hyebin should have worn foundation after all. She can only imagine how red her face must be.
“So the question still stands,” Hayoon says. “Are you okay with it? Because I’ll stop if it makes you uncomfortable, I just-”
“I have never been more okay with something in my entire life,” Hyebin interrupts now that her brain has finally caught up with the situation.
Hayoon beams. “Can I ask another question, then?”
“Shoot.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.”
Hyebin frets for a second when she realizes she’s still holding two drinks; they’re in the way, but she doesn’t trust herself not to kick them if she puts them down on the ground.
Hayoon notices Hyebin’s plight. She giggles and takes Hyebin’s wrists, hooking Hyebin’s hands over her own shoulders so the drinks are behind her back. Then she wraps her hands around Hyebin’s waist and leans in.
And it’s the happiest moment of Hyebin’s life.
The kiss is soft and tender and everything Hyebin could have ever dreamed of. When Hayoon pulls away, she smiles gently and looks into Hyebin’s eyes, like a less weird version of the mascara incident.
Hyebin is completely entranced. So entranced, in fact, that she doesn’t notice Taekwoon is back until he’s prying his drink out of her hand.
She glares at him over Hayoon’s shoulder. He smiles and taps his lips. “You’ve got a little something...”
Hyebin wipes her mouth on the back of her now-free hand and sees a smudge of Hayoon’s red lipstick.
Hayoon has never looked so proud of herself.