Chapter Text
“Come in.”
Zoey opened the door to Celine’s office, immediately giving a polite bow as she did so. There was always something about the office that she found intimidating; maybe the fact that it felt more ‘grown-up’ than most of her life. She’d sat in board room meetings, of course; done TV and radio interviews, been on a stage before thousands upon thousands of people. On show days, she had a whole team of people whose job it was to make sure that any and all of her needs were met, a fleet of individuals who were essentially at HUNTR/X’s beck and call. But Celine’s office… It made her feel completely out of her element, every time.
Not that she had done anything wrong. Of course she hadn’t… had she? No, this was just an occasional check-in for the three of them, which Celine tended to do during some of the group’s less busy periods. The meetings were usually spent going over strengths and weaknesses, personal matters that might affect performance, information to be passed along by the label… and of course, details about their ‘evening’ jobs that couldn’t be shared in front of others. Mira tended to say that the closest approximation to the meetings was something like an end-of-year review, the kind they had occasionally seen in movies. Of course, there wasn’t some increase in remuneration tied to it, or any real risk of being ‘fired’; it was just… maintenance.
As Celine lifted her gaze, she smiled politely and motioned before her
“It’s good to see you, Zoey. Have a seat.”
Zoey crossed the office with some degree of trepidation, her sneakers squeaking quietly on the marble flooring as she moved past the twin couches and coffee table that graced the center of the room—
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Celine suddenly articulated, freezing Zoey in her tracks. “The couch will be fine.” She nodded toward them, and Zoey made a silent loop around to sit in the center of the couch nearest her. After a moment, Celine gathered some papers, a yellow legal pad and a beige folder and made her way to the opposite couch.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked, as she set the files on the table. “You seem stressed.”
Zoey blinked, surprised by the offer. “No, thank you. I’m totally fine.”
“Well, don’t be nervous; it’s business as usual. No major notes this time around.”
“It’s just…” Zoey looked at her with something that almost resembled suspicion. “You’ve never offered me a drink before.”
Celine hummed, a small smile forming on her face. “That’s true, isn’t it? …I suppose I’m just in a good mood today.”
“Did something happen?”
Celine shook her head. “Not at all, actually, but perhaps that’s it.” She crossed one leg over the other. “‘No news is good news’, as they say.”
“I guess so,” Zoey nodded, watching as Celine picked up the legal pad and skimmed the contents on its top page. Her brows suddenly raised.
“Oh, actually… I suppose I lied. There is good news, for you specifically.”
Zoey’s ears perked up. “For me?”
“It’s funny, actually, given our conversation… but HiteJinro wants you as a brand ambassador for Chamisul Fresh.”
“Wait, seriously? Like, just me?”
Zoey half-stood from her seat.
“Just you, yes,” Celine clarified. “Should I have Bobby tell them you’re interested?”
“Uhm, yes!?”
Zoey’s eyes were wide. Her very own brand deal! Not HUNTR/X, but her specifically! She wondered what it would look like. Commercials? Her face on the bottle? Life-size cardboard cutouts in every liquor store? Her body vibrated at the possibilities.
Celine smiled and made a quick note on the page, circling something numerous times. “Good. You’ve earned this, you know. You’re a very hard worker.”
The claim made Zoey smile, herself. Sure, she knew she was a hard worker— all three of the girls were— but hearing it from Celine meant a lot to her.
“Maybe I will have a drink, then. …To celebrate.”
Celine nodded and rose, crossing to a large black cabinet on the wall. She pressed against its geometric patterning, and with a click the door swung open. Bottles of various liquors lined the shelves inside.
“Preference? I can’t imagine you’re much for liquor, but…”
She hummed and knelt by the bottom shelf, where a rather small mini-fridge sat. Upon opening it, she withdrew a small green bottle and held it up.
“How’s this?” she asked. “They sent it as part of a goodwill package when they made the offer.”
“Perfect!”
A few minutes later, Celine and Zoey were seated across from one other once again, the former holding a wine glass. Looking at her, Zoey thought Celine to be the pinnacle of class: not just an older woman but a former star, drinking Cabernet in a luxury-brand pantsuit and heels. The ceiling-high windows behind Celine framed her in the middle of Seoul at sunset, a hint of dusk playing off of the streak of grey in her hair. She was a picture-perfect vision of elegance.
And then something behind Celine caught Zoey’s attention, on the long table that stood against the windows. A picture frame with a photo that didn’t seem familiar to her despite having been in this office many times over the years. She rose from the couch, taking her small tumbler of soju along with her.
“Is this new?”
As she approached, she almost regretted asking. A photo of Celine and Miyeong, Rumi’s mother, at the height of the Sunlight Sisters’ popularity. Miyeong was smiling for the camera, flashing a peace sign, while Celine’s arms were wrapped around her shoulders. Their cheeks were nearly pressed together, and Celine seemed to be in the middle of a fit of joyous laughter.
“Yes… well, technically, of course,” Celine answered. Her voice was nearer, but soft; she had risen from the couch to see what it was that had caught Zoey’s attention, and was now a few feet behind. “That was… after the debut show for our third album, I believe.”
She didn’t say much else. She didn’t have to.
“You look so beautiful,” Zoey whispered.
“Things were certainly a bit simpler back then,” Celine noted. “I’d imagine I was about your age.”
“Hey, I better look as good as you do when I’m older, then.”
The sentiment seemed to catch Celine off guard. “I, ah… Thank you, Zoey,” she answered quietly. “I do my best.”
“Seriously, you look amazing!” Zoey exclaimed with a giggle. She quickly backed off, however, realizing it might not be a proper tone to take with her mentor, and turned back to the photograph.
“You guys must have been so close,” she said.
Celine smiled, a closed-lip sort of smile that half resembled a grimace. She didn’t answer, just took a long sip of red wine. She reached past Zoey, leaning in to pick up the photograph.
“…Can I tell you something, Zoey?”
Zoey turned to Celine, curious— and saw that the look on her face was wistful, something in search of a far-off memory. She nodded. “Uh… Yeah, of course. Anything.”
“All these years, I’ve known you to be a tremendous Sunlight Sisters fan. Since we scouted you, really. When you and I first met, you had the hardest time speaking to me.”
“Uh, yeah,” Zoey said bluntly, “I was meeting a legend. And she was gonna mentor me! That doesn’t just happen to people.”
The smile on Celine’s face broke into something more genuine, teeth showing through the slight part of her lips.
“You flatter me,” she replied. “But… my point is, I knew there was something special in you. That boundless optimism, that love for those around you… If I were to call Rumi and Mira the sword and shield of HUNTR/X, then you are the heart.”
The praise surprised Zoey, but she continued to listen obediently.
“I know how I’ve been, over the years of your training. I trained you all as hunters with the mindset that our faults and fears must never be seen. In that way, I hoped that you would be able to accomplish what I couldn’t, and form the golden honmoon. But clearly I was wrong; the three of you embraced your flaws and made the honmoon stronger than ever. You’ve all grown into beautiful, strong women and I am so proud of all of you.”
Celine paused, unsure how to articulate what came next. Her glass was empty, and she was itching to refill it just to have something to fill the space between her words, to keep her preoccupied. Her mouth felt dry as she spoke.
“I like to think I’m as human as anyone,” she said after a moment. “But unfortunately, we didn’t have all the knowledge that you do now. Hiding our faults meant… Miyeong, hiding her relationship from me. Hiding what led to Rumi’s birth. Hiding our fears, well…”
The itch grew too severe. Celine strode across the room to her desk, her high heels clicking on the marble each step of the way. She unstopped the bottle of wine sitting there and poured herself another glass, all the while still clutching the photograph in her opposite hand.
“Hiding my fears meant never telling Miyeong about my feelings for her.”
As she took a long sip of wine, Zoey stared at her, heart broken in two.
“Wait, do you mean…?”
Without looking up, Celine nodded. Her eyes traced the grainy photo, wishing it was in finer clarity. No expensive lens, no airbrushing, just a photograph from an old disposable drug store camera that could have belonged in any old scrapbook. What she would give to see it in high definition, to see the light of that exact moment in Miyeong’s eyes.
“Yes. I was deeply, deeply in love with her.”
Zoey’s shoulders sank. She could have theorized it, maybe, in her prime fangirl days— she had watched old interviews and live performances countless times over the years. There was a love in the way each of the girls looked at once another, but Zoey’s younger self might have been too young to recognize anything in Celine’s eyes as having deeper meaning.
Celine began making her way back to the couch.
“Of course, as I said, I never told her—”
“Why not?”
Perhaps Zoey had answered too hastily. But she believed in love, after all, and she believed in Celine, and if Celine couldn’t have love then who could? She had been through so much, been so strong…
Celine chuckled dryly as she sat once more, setting the frame on the table. “Tell me, how many celebrities do you see out and proud in the music industry at present?”
The question was rhetorical; for all intents and purposes, such a thing was still fairly taboo. Zoey didn’t answer.
“This was the nineties,” Celine continued, “so it was even rarer. Simply put, if people found out it would be career suicide. And even if they didn’t… well, there was no guarantee she would feel the same. None of it mattered once she was pregnant anyway.”
Zoey took a few steps toward her, unsure what to say.
“Celine… That’s so sad,” she whispered. The words felt clumsy, stupid coming out of her mouth. Of course it was sad. Hell, it wasn’t just sad, it was the kind of thing heart-wrenching romance movies were made of.
“I never bothered again,” Celine uttered, her voice a bit weak. “Why should I? The woman I loved died, and I was too busy raising Rumi and preparing for the next generation of hunters. There was no time for that sort of thing.”
When Zoey moved to sit beside her on the same couch this time, she spoke delicately.
“Uhm… Can I ask you something?”
Celine looked up, meeting Zoey’s gaze for the first time since she had begun recalling her past.
“Of course.”
“Why me, of all people? Like, by the way you’re talking it sounds like you haven’t told Rumi or Mira this, so… Why are you telling me?”
Celine closed her eyes and took a deep breath, tilting her head back.
“I don’t know, Zoey. Maybe it’s unprofessional of me to disclose these things to a protegé. Maybe I’m just… tired. Tired of pretending I’m a rock, of hiding things for twenty-five years. Maybe I thought some of your optimism would rub off on me.”
There was a length of silence where Celine seemed to be tending to an oncoming headache, and Zoey was unsure of what to say. She eventually settled on “I’m sorry,” before thanking Celine as well.
“I shouldn’t have brought up a sore subject,” she said. “But… the fact that you confided in me makes me really happy, you know.”
Celine shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize; you had no way of knowing. Although…” She forced a more genuine smile for Zoey, setting a warm hand on her shoulder. “I suppose now you have a bit of insider knowledge that even the most hardcore Sunlight Sisters fans don’t.”
Zoey suddenly lit up at the notion. “Oh my god, you’re right,” she began, her eyes growing wide. “I’m like, in the inner circle.”
Celine’s smile spread. Maybe this was exactly why she had told Zoey: the girl’s energy was infectious. “You are,” she agreed warmly. “But I do have a request: this has to remain between us. No one can know. That includes Rumi, at least for now.”
Zoey took a moment to consider the weight of such a request. She had agreed with Rumi and Mira that there would be no more secrets between the three of them. Was that fair, especially with everything that had just happened with Rumi’s patterns?
Registering the concern on her face, Celine gave Zoey’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“I’ll tell Rumi when I’m able; I promise you that. Things are only recently repaired between us, after all. I need to give her a bit of time, first.”
There was something about Celine’s expression at the moment that Zoey had never seen before. Each of Celine’s requests typically had an undertone that made it obvious it was more a directive than anything else.
“Of course,” Zoey answered, almost not realizing she had agreed so easily— not a conscious decision to keep the secret so much as what felt like the right answer in her heart when looking Celine in the eyes.
“Thank you,” Celine said, and removed her hand from Zoey’s shoulder. “Anyway, I apologize for being so maudlin. I should drink a bit less, maybe.”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Zoey said, nudging Celine with her elbow in an overly friendly manner. “You should hear when I trauma-dump on the others. It’s pret-ty pathetic.” Despite the self-deprecating words, she was smiling. “Besides, everyone needs to vent sometimes. And you haven’t had that, right? So I’ve got you.”
The frankness was bewildering. Celine eyed her for a moment, then frowned.
“There’s nothing pathetic about you, Zoey. You’re a world-class pop star, an expert marksman with throwing knives, a proficient lyricist… hm?”
Celine paused, a puzzled look on her face as she caught Zoey’s own expression. The praise seemed to have taken Zoey by surprise; not only that, but her cheeks were a bit red.
“Y-Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I’m just kinda hard on myself sometimes. But… there’s nothing pathetic about you either, Celine.”
“Did I say there was?” Celine asked, raising a brow. Zoey immediately leapt on the question.
“Not out loud,” she huffed, leaning in. “But I’m pretty good at reading faces.”
Celine scoffed. Normally, she would have shut down any psychoanalysis of her own life from the girls— from anyone, really— on the spot. But she was currently on her third glass of wine, having had one before their meeting, and there had been something a bit freeing about Zoey’s presence this time around.
“Fine, then. Go ahead.”
Zoey pursed her lips. “You’re not allowed to get mad, though.”
“I won’t get mad,” Celine agreed.
“You’re probably gonna get mad.”
“Zoey, I promise you I won’t get mad.”
“You’re lonely.”
A rasping sound left Celine’s throat in place of an answer. She stared for a moment, perhaps surprised by how succinct the statement was, and then turned to take a sip of wine.
“…So I’m lonely,” she said, her voice flat with indifference. “What about it?”
“So, you don’t have to be.”
“I’m not sure what you’re implying.”
Uh oh. Did I overstep?
Zoey was quick to go on the defensive, holding up her hands. “Nonono, I wasn’t implying anything! Just… I mean, yeah, you’re a busy CEO or whatever, but… c’mon! You’re a beautiful, successful woman who can have anything she wants. Anyone she wants, even! And no offense, but the internet wasn’t really as much of a thing back then, so your options have kinda opened up.”
“…A CEO ‘or whatever’?” Celine repeated with a wry smile. She noticed Zoey about to correct herself, and shook her head. “Thank you, Zoey. I appreciate the pep talk.”
“Yeah, of course! I meannn, you could even bag someone a little younger if you wanted, you’re a total mi—”
Shit.
“—iiiiaaAAAaasterclass. Total masterclass. Yep.”
She smiled, a large, tacky smile that seemed eager to insist that it was the exact word she was going for in the first place.
“…Zoey.”
Zoey swallowed, holding the smile in a feeble effort to look like she’d done nothing wrong.
“Yes, Celine?” she answered politely.
“What were you going to say?”
I’m done for, Zoey thought, setting her drink down. “It’s nothing; just an internet thing. I figured it wouldn’t make any sense to you.”
A lie, but a necessary one. She was not about to have to explain that to Celine, of all people. There could be fewer things more humiliating than that.
“Well, tell me, then.”
Zoey’s stomach lurched.
“…Tell you?” She laughed nervously. “Tell you what?”
Celine uncrossed her legs, turning slightly toward her protegé. “Tell me what it is,” she answered, rolling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. “After all, if you’re encouraging me to ‘get out there’, I should be more learned, right?”
There was no way that Zoey’s face wasn’t beyond pale at the suggestion “Oh, you’re plenty learned, Celine; you shouldn’t have to—”
“Zoey.”
“—Yes ma’am.”
Zoey immediately seized up. She had always idolized Celine, of course, but once she had begun training she knew just how intimidating the woman could be. Celine’s look grew sterner to match her tone.
“Explain.”
“Do I have to?”
“It would be appreciated, yes.”
Celine watched as Zoey seemed to squirm in place. It wasn’t as though she took pleasure in such a thing but there was something a bit endearing about it, like trying to watch a child worm their way out of trouble.
“So, uhm…”
Zoey took a deep breath. As her eyes caught her tumbler on the coffee table, she quickly reached for it and took another sip. She hadn’t wanted to drink much, out of respect for Celine, but being stuck in a situation like this was… trying. She clutched the glass between both hands, staring at it.
“It’s not like I think it,” she began slowly, trying to find the right words to articulate her point without incriminating herself, “but, y’know, some people… regarding an attractive older woman… might say you’re, I dunno, a…”
She trailed off on the last word, causing Celine to lean inward.
“Zoey.”
“Yes, Celine?”
“You’re not in trouble; you know that, right? We’re having a conversation.”
Zoey groaned. Eventually she forced the word from her throat.
“…Milf?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Milf, the word is milf.”
She waited, refusing to lift her gaze. Eventually, Celine responded with a simple “hm.”
Zoey took another sip, and began to wonder if she should leave.
“…I’m not familiar with it.”
A tremendous sigh of relief left Zoey’s lips. Thank god, she thought.
“Well, it’s… I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you google it,” she stammered. “After I leave, preferably.”
Celine seemed to hesitate for a moment, then nodded.
“Fair enough,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’ll do that. But listen, Zoey…”
Her voice grew softer, as though addressing a friend rather than a pupil.
“I appreciate you lending an ear. …You may have a point about it being good for me.”
Zoey shot to her feet. The thought of having been of service to Celine meant the world to her.
“Of course! Anytime you need, I’m always happy to listen!”
She didn’t want to seem too overeager, but the offer was genuine. Judging by her response, however, it pleased the woman.
“Thank you, Zoey,” Celine said, smiling warmly. “You’re a good girl, you know that?”
The words seemed to have some strange effect on Zoey, Celine noticed. Her eyes widened slightly, her shoulders tensed, and the faintest bit of color warmed her cheeks.
“Yeah, y’know, I do my best,” Zoey quickly answered. “But, ah, I should probably get back to the penthouse. Movie night, and all.”
Celine nodded. “Of course. It’s well earned,” she said. “And, I’ll keep you posted about the Jinro ambassadorship, yes?”
The reminder set Zoey alight once again, and she smiled wide. “Yes, please!” she said with a bow. “Oh, and thank you for the drink!” As she made her way to the door, a newfound spring was in her step.
The news of the collaboration was of such excitement to her that she had almost forgotten Celine’s words. It wasn’t until she was in the elevator that they settled upon her once more.
You’re a good girl, you know that?
Zoey’s face flushed with heat. She knew it wasn’t meant in any kind of additional capacity; the sheer notion of that was insane. No, Celine was being quite literal: Zoey was a good person, a kind and caring individual who was also a girl. That was all.
But still, she thought, realizing her reaction was probably fully obvious to Celine, what the heck was that?
Once the door clicked shut behind Zoey, Celine collected the glass she had been using and returned to her desk. Fortunately, all the work that mattered was done for the day; she had cleared her afternoon to meet with each of the girls, and so all that was really left was to make a few notes for later and tidy up.
Celine had been a hair’s breadth from clicking the ‘Shut Down’ button on her desktop when something crossed her mind. Her hand froze on the mouse. She hummed to herself, then slowly navigated to the browser and opened the search engine.
She had only barely clicked ‘search’ on her query when the results made her recoil. Immediately she closed the browser, shut down her computer, and stared at the ghost of a reflection of herself on the black screen.
Pornography? How could Zoey—
Well, no; she did request that Zoey clarify. Maybe this was on her, for once. But now her work computer had such a thing in its history, and that was a whole other matter.
Irritated at herself, she withdrew her personal phone from her blazer and opened the browser there instead.
… ‘Private Browsing’…
She felt exceedingly stupid for the position she was currently in. But at least this way there would be no further log of her research. Her thumbs clicked across the symbols on her screen.
…“Milf meaning’…
MILF, noun; plural: MILFs. A sexually attractive older woman, especially one who has children. Origin (English): Acronym - Mother I’d Like to Fuck.
She scrolled farther, trying to see any variation on the meaning, but it seemed that was the one and only answer.
Surely, Zoey wasn’t implying such a thing? She knew the girl could be vulgar sometimes, but she was usually very respectful around Celine, only slipping into inappropriate speech when she got too excitable.
But despite that… Celine appreciated it. Her meeting with each of the girls proved insightful, especially in matters of the honmoon. But Zoey’s earnest nature, even if it sometimes toed the line, helped Celine feel a bit more… in touch.
Glad to know that I’m still seen as desirable, I suppose.
Not that it mattered; thoughts of sex were rare for her, even if she was lonely. In the early years after Miyeong’s death, Celine had spent countless nights inside either a bottle of whiskey or another woman. But eventually the latter phased out, and she found herself simply drinking alone to dull the pain instead. She traded the bar for her living room, and traded women for work. And that was the case for twenty years or so— she simply never looked back
You’re lonely.
So what? So what if she was lonely? So what if she hadn’t felt the touch of another person in two decades? She had been just fine without it.
But maybe Zoey had a point.
Sweet Zoey, telling Celine she could have anyone she wanted. And Celine knew that she had meant it in full honesty.
You’re a beautiful, successful woman…
It was impossible to decide in such a brief amount of time whether it would be worth indulging herself like that, whether in a physical capacity or with something more romantic. But the thought lingered nonetheless.
She tilted her wine glass, savoring the last few drops of Cabernet before setting it on the desk.
“You could even bag someone a little younger if you wanted.”
She snapped the clasp of her pants, the zipper giving slightly without any effort. And for the first time in… how many months? Or, god, years?… Celine closed her eyes and breathed deep as her fingers slid below her waist.
“You’re a total mi—”
Celine wasn’t a mother, of course… though, in a sense, she’d been as one to Rumi for most of her life. But that wasn’t the part that flustered her.
Mother I’d Like to Fuck.
She shuddered lightly at her own touch as she drew her fingertips down the cotton barrier.
Not to love, or to date, or to touch.
Something more primal, something heavy and messy and belligerent.
To fuck.
She imagined a nameless partner, whose face shifted— traces of Miyeong, of others whose faces she vaguely remembered from years and years ago but whose names had long since escaped her. Of the one actress from that drama film she had watched recently, whose tongue worked feverishly for the body of the Lady she tended to. Celine’s breath quickened, her strokes growing more particular as she attempted to reacquaint herself with her body for the first time in god-knew-how-long.
And for a split second, barely fast enough to register, the mimic in her mind took the voice of Zoey.
“You’re a beautiful woman…”
Something in Celine snagged on the thought. She brushed it away immediately and without hesitation, and yet it quickly came back like a dog playing fetch. A full-body shiver ran through her at the same time as a pang of guilt, leaving her confused.
Absolutely not. She’s your hubae.
Zoey’s large, doelike eyes, almost incapable of lying, looking up at her.
A hiss escaped Celine’s lips, followed by an approximation of Zoey’s voice in her mind.
“Please, Celine…”
Something familiar but distant stirred in her hips, the twinge that meant climax wasn’t far off, despite having not visited her in ages.
It’s just this once, she told herself. You won’t allow it to affect your professionalism.
You’re a stronger woman than that.
…Besides, you’ve probably needed this for a long time.
The sudden ache for that long-lost peak began to outweigh the guilt in her heart. Her breaths, the only sound in her office at present, grew labored as her fingertips honed in on her clit and rubbed in small but deliberate circles.
So close. So god damn close.
Her leg jerked, and as her knee collided with the desk the wine glass on its edge fell to the floor with a loud, desperate crash. Celine tore her hands to her mouth with a sharp gasp as shards scattered wide across the marble beneath her chair.
In the deafening silence that followed she tried to calm herself, taking slow breaths and attempting to still her body’s sudden terrified trembling. Slowly, she braced her elbows against the desk and buried her face in her hands.
Fuck.
She had nearly come, and she had nearly done it while thinking about Zoey. One of the girls who had trained under her for years.
It was, as she told herself, just a fluke; a one-time occurrence in an effort to reach orgasm for the first time in an eternity.
But now that it was over— without hitting climax, and with broken glass strewn across the floor— she felt more disgusted with herself than ever.
What the hell is wrong with me…?