Work Text:
Mornings in her household are always loud. Hyunjin thinks she was born to have a loud family, all things considered. But the manner of which they apply that aspect of themselves sometimes conflates with how she feels.
Her dad gets too into the call and response he uses to train his voice. And the overeagerness with which her mom replies is just… awkward. By all accounts, they try to seem like a family who is a normal amount of religious. The stigma of their hometown contributes to this- the proximity to the Bible Belt, the storied past of cults whisking away loved ones, never to be seen again…
Hyunjin doesn't really know how to feel a normal way toward religion. It encapsulates her life, and yet, she feels alienated by it.
Mom's always singing hymns under her breath as she washes the dishes. Dad is the preacher. And no one is less enthused about it than Hyunjin.
Well, arguably, there is someone. She's the neighbor's daughter, living with her father across the street. Out of all people living in the cul-de-sac, she's the only one never seen attending mass. Hyunjin wonders about her every time. Does she feel lucky or unlucky, being the black sheep of the town? How does her father feel? How did they even get here?
Recently, her mom has started baking pies. Not for themselves, of course, but for the neighbors. It seems as if she's got a similar level of curiosity, ringing their bell and peering around the father's shoulder when he opens the door. He obviously knows what she's doing, but doesn't seem too annoyed by it.
Hyunjin cringes inside, but she wishes she was as brave. There's a small, but frenetic part of her that wants to pick that girl apart, ask her all the questions in the world and mull over the answers. But that would never happen, would it?
She would never get that chance, right?
[...]
The piano lessons she got as a kid were definitely foreshadowing. That is solidified in Hyunjin's mind when her birthday present comes in the mail. Mom's eyes glint as she waits eagerly for Hyunjin to open the cardboard box, and Dad is nothing short of Dad-pacing-around-the-room when he gets excited.
The smell of plastic is stamped on her fingers as she touches the brand new Casio keyboard. She's not unhappy with the present, very much the opposite一but in her mind Hyunjin can't help but quarrel with the expectations that certainly come attached to it. She got away with refusing to be an altar girl.. but there's no way she's getting away with refusing to join the church band.
The glint in Mom's eyes says as much. The grin in Dad's mouth hammers it in.
Oh well.
Hyunjin dusts off her old music notebooks and pieces of notation paper scattered at the bottom of her closet. There's a beautiful familiarity and sense of belonging that comes back to her when she's finally alone in her room with the keys. Her fingers are clumsy at first, trying to recall old movements that should have been forgotten long ago, but they remember.
It takes a while, but Hyunjin is soon enraptured. Maybe it's the circumstances, but there's a certain relief that takes over when she's able to worry about nothing but the music. But it doesn't last long. The bushes outside her window rustle against the glass, breaking her out of the spell. Before she can investigate, Mom beckons her for dinner.
Her mind empties yet again.
[...]
The folks at the church band aren't so bad. The singer seems highly devoted, as church singers usually are. The drummer looks a little bored, but Hyunjin wonders, don't all drummers look bored when they're not drumming?
The guitarist is good, but he looks like he wishes he was playing harder songs. All in all, they're not out of place, nor do they feel like it; unlike Hyunjin, who feels like this is the most unappealing situation she could be in apart from being at the actual altar.
She didn't mind attending mass before. It was just a thing she had to do. Often she would disappear into random words in her mind, hanging onto memories otherwise unremarkable. Her disinterest never appeared to bother her parents much, as long as she said the words and took communion.
Now, she's no longer allowed to be disinterested. Music is an attachment of hers, no matter what melodies and lyrics are associated with it. Hyunjin is physically unable to feign that this doesn't matter to her.
So they practice. The singer is entirely as devoted as before, and the rest of the band continue with their same synergy. But Hyunjin crooning "oh Loooord" is not devoted to Him. It's devoted to the keys in front of her, and nothing else. As long as everyone else overlooks that in favor of her skill, she's gonna be fine.
[...]
It's usually not easy to scare Hyunjin, but tonight it seems the circumstances are just right. She's walking back from band practice, carefree even as the sunlight lowers faster, casting the streets in a blue-ish glean.
That's when someone jumps into view, stopping right in front of her. It makes it clear to Hyunjin that she wasn't paying attention 一 but she is definitely paying attention now.
"Hey. Sorry, did I startle you? I didn't mean to."
The girl has her hair up and her hoodie down, and it takes a second for her face to click in Hyunjin's mind.
"Oh, I'm fine. You are..?"
"Jinsol."
Jinsol tentatively sticks out her hand. Hyunjin takes it, happy to have a name to connect to the face that had already made a mark in her brain attic.
"Hyunjin."
She lingers on the softness of her hands even as they drop, taking the most discreet breath. It starts to dawn on her that Jinsol might have been waiting for her. It seems that Jinsol realizes this too- an inception of realization that just leads to a few seconds of silence.
"Sorry, uh- I heard you joined the church band. You're.. playing the keyboard, right?"
Hyunjin appreciates the lead-in, but just the mention of church raises gooseflesh on her arms and she crosses them. She doesn't want Jinsol to think this as a signal that she's closing their avenue, rushing to speak-
"Yeah! Yeah, yeah yeah." The words run off excitedly, and she takes a moment to remediate the dryness of her mouth. God, such a disaster. "Uh, why?"
There's an inch of relief as Jinsol smiles. "Oh, I play too. The piano, I mean."
"Nice!"
Hyunjin hangs onto the word a little longer than she usually would, not knowing how to proceed the conversation. Luckily, Jinsol seems eager about something, although she takes a minute to get to it.
"Um… I thought I'd ask if it would be okay to come and see you play next time. I don't really attend mass, so maybe I can sit in on a rehearsal?"
The thought of Jinsol seeing her play jolts something in Hyunjin so buried she doesn't even recognize it. Jinsol's expression doesn't help一the excitement, the unmistakable shine in her eyes, the mutual respect she so obviously must have for the instrument. Their instrument. Hyunjin finds it hard to keep a normal amount of energy in her body, to not explode right then and there.
It's the feeling of finding a common passion in an unlikely place. And of course, Hyunjin doesn't mind the fact that Jinsol is what you can understand as beautiful. Not in the way this town may want her to be, but the way she actually is.
"Hyunjin?"
"Oh, sorry. I.. I just spaced out for a bit. Uh- yeah, sure! It would be okay, yeah, of course."
Relief rushes in as Jinsol smiles.
"Great. Uh, I wrote down my house phone number…" she rummages through the front pocket of her hoodie, pulling out a piece of paper. "Here. Feel free to ring with the details. I'm usually home so if you get my dad, just ask for me."
Hyunjin takes the piece of paper, cradling it in her fingers and nodding.
"And if you're not home?" She asks, just in case.
Jinsol seems surprised she'd asked. Eventually, she laughs.
"Just have him write them down. He won't mind."
[...]
It's a relief and a surprise that Hyunjin's parents don't ask why she has a slight pep in her step recently. Maybe because they assume it relates to the band she's now a part of. It's all well and good to Hyunjin, as she would not be at all interested in trying to map out her inmost guttural feelings toward everything that has ever happened in her life to them.
No, it's much more fun to fantasize about Jinsol's life.
Hyunjin has become infinitely more curious about her一the part of her that longs to decipher the incongruencies of Jinsol's existence in this town becoming stronger by the hour. Hyunjin doesn't need the sticky note on the fridge reminding her of the coming rehearsal, since she's got it memorized ever since calling Jinsol and telling her about it.
No better encouragement than that, she thinks. Although it's Hyunjin's specialty to fail to attune to the implication.
When she gets to the rehearsal, it doesn't take long for her bandmates to notice something is different. Not unusual for them to do so, considering the amount of time they've already spent together, but Hyunjin finds it a little unnerving to see their reactions. Maybe she's not as much of a closed book as she thought.
"Just letting you guys know, I've invited a friend. Please don't be weird."
The expressions on their faces indicate they don't even begin to understand what weird means to Hyunjin, but they don't seem to object beyond just shrugging. The band completes a sound check as usual, with Hyunjin hyperfocused on the movements of her hands. Her bandmates seem a bit surprised.
Jinsol arrives shortly after, clad in a leather jacket and hair characteristically up. She raises a hand up, a subtle wave.
"Hey!" Hyunjin tries to be casual, but she almost tips the keyboard over while getting up. Her bandmates don't mask their laughter, and she takes a deep breath, rolling her eyes at them. "Um.. band, this is Jinsol. Jinsol, this is the band."
They exchange pleasantries, and Hyunjin watches like a hawk to see if they behave. Fortunately, Jinsol seems to draw out the best in people.
She sits in a chair, watching with an unwavering gaze and a slight smile as the band runs through the gamut of gospel. Hyunjin focuses, as usual, but she can't help but feel different in this situation. And it is subtle, of course, but not subtle enough for Hyunjin not to notice 一 Jinsol's eyes are mostly on her. She's good at masking it, purposefully shifting her attention just as one bandmate's gaze falls on her, but Hyunjin notices.
And it makes her ears hot, and it makes her stomach drop, and it makes her mind wander.
Hyunjin makes a mistake, but she cleans it up. The only one who seems to notice is the guitarist, who sneaks her a look like what just happened? because Hyunjin never makes a mistake. She gives him a slight shrug, but the only difference between this rehearsal and all the others is plain obvious, and he frowns.
What makes Hyunjin nervous is that he doesn't inquire any more, even as they finish rehearsing.
"I'll stay and practice some more. You guys can go."
Being alone with Jinsol is a double-edged sword一not like Hyunjin expected any different.
"You're good! Y'know, for a church band, your skill level goes beyond it."
Jinsol's eyes no longer mask like before, and Hyunjin is unsure of how to feel about having her laser-focused attention.
"Nah, I slipped so bad toward the end there. Sorry you had to see that."
"No, I'm sorry. I was probably putting a lot of pressure on you there. It's only fair." Jinsol's smile is reassuring. Hyunjin hopes she doesn't know how right she is.
Hyunjin looks back down at the keyboard, thinking for a second, sounding out the keys as she does so. Something clicks in her mind.
"Um.. I'm thinking you might want to hear something other than gospel. Do you mind?"
Jinsol laughs, smiling. "Oh, please. I was afraid you'd never ask."
As Hyunjin repositions herself, she notices just how awkward the distance between them is now that there's no band.
"You can come closer if you want." She mutters it, not feeling brave enough to say it loud. For some reason, her body won't allow her voice to make itself clear, even when it comes to the truth.
Hyunjin only notices just how close Jinsol has decided to be after she starts playing. Rather than moving her chair halfway - a reasonable distance, and one Hyunjin would understand - Jinsol sits right in front of her. If she could play the keyboard backwards, it would be easy to do so.
Rather than letting the nerves get in the way, Hyunjin uses them一allowing the raucous energy in her muscles dictate the rhythm of the song. The piece already uses space to guide its emotionality, and the pauses between notes allow Hyunjin to control her breathing, to steady herself in the feeling it envelops her in.
Jinsol watches carefully as she finishes with a flourish, and her eyes linger on hers with a little too much affection. Hyunjin can feel the air getting thicker between them, plunging on the keys to create a cacophony that breaks the tension. She doesn't know why, but letting a moment of silent beauty linger too long when Jinsol is with her is a dark path, and trying to gaze at its winding length is dangerous enough for her.
Jinsol seems to understand this, and Hyunjin wishes she wouldn't. Hyunjin wishes she would take the lead for the both of them, wishes she would choose for her what Hyunjin believes she is unable to choose for herself. But Jinsol matches her closely, and it is such a shame.
"That was lovely."
Jinsol leans back, angling her legs away, closing shut one of their doors. Hyunjin almost curses herself for letting her do it, unsure of what moves she can make. Because, regardless of their game, she doesn't want to let Jinsol slip away entirely.
"Thanks." Hyunjin hopes Jinsol doesn't notice the way her leg starts to bounce. "Would you play something too? It can be anything, I'm not picky."
The surprise in Jinsol's eyes makes Hyunjin congratulate herself, although she feels a little sad to think Jinsol didn't expect her to ask for it in the first place.
"Uh- sure. I'm not as confident as you are, my dad is my only audience. Was, I guess." She corrects with a smile, and they trade places. Hyunjin instantly understands the type of pressure a person faces in this situation, and she feels privileged and shamefully giddy at how up close and personal she is to Jinsol.
"You can do it. I know you can."
It starts slow, as Jinsol gets acclimated to the keys. Hyunjin can hear her faintly hum the melody, picking up confidence until she's in the zone. No, it's more than that: Jinsol disappears into the instrument, and Hyunjin is pretty sure she has years of experience with it, much more than she ever imagined. Yet, it just fits perfectly in Hyunjin's mind: the idea that Jinsol and a piano are intertwined, and having love for the music it produces is equitable to the chance of having this moment with Jinsol herself.
It would sound silly if Hyunjin didn't feel it in the marrow of her bones一the vibration from the music radiating through her body in a way she had never felt before.
Jinsol's hair has fallen in her face despite the neat way it was tied, but she's focused on concluding her song. Despite all her inner conscience's objections, Hyunjin takes it upon herself to fix it back behind Jinsol's ear. Her face is warm, and Hyunjin keeps her hand there for a second longer than she probably should.
She feels like she is crossing a line until Jinsol's eyes meet hers.
"Are you…?" Jinsol's voice barely comes out, and her gaze is asking.
Hyunjin doesn't answer, instead choosing not to move at all, trying to slow her heart as it insists on freaking out. Jinsol leans into her hand, closing her eyes, taking the deepest breath she can probably manage. Hyunjin presses her thumb into Jinsol's cheek, gliding it along her skin.
It reminds her of catechism and the blind kid in her class who had to touch people's faces if he wanted to remember them. If there was one thing she didn't regret about religion, it was all the people she got to know, if only for a brief period of time.
Hyunjin can see Jinsol, but she still wants to touch her face一know it inside and out. And she's aware by now that this isn't just curiosity. It's a need she hasn't felt this strongly until now, and of all people who could spring it upon her, Hyunjin is relieved that it's Jinsol.
Being this close, Hyunjin can see a small scar between her eyebrows, a slanted line she hadn't noticed before. Her fingers move automatically, running through the depression with a careful but steady hand until Jinsol stops her. She opens her eyes, holding Hyunjin's hand in hers.
"Childhood accident. Don't worry about it."
Hyunjin feels like she did something wrong. "Sorry." She wonders if Jinsol has been in a similar situation before, as she is quick to reassure her. Or maybe she's just good at reading Hyunjin一it wouldn't surprise her.
"It's fine. You're fine."
Jinsol keeps holding her hand, and Hyunjin knows she's gonna have to let go at some point. She rues that moment before it comes, and her eyes dart toward the clock on the wall and what it foreshadows. Jinsol squeezes her hand, but Hyunjin doesn't let her pull it away.
"I'm never far, Hyunjin. Neither are you."
"I know." But she frowns. Getting this far is more than she ever imagined, and having to potentially go home and sit with it is too much to think about. No, having Jinsol here, for the foreseeable future is preferable - because she stops Hyunjin from thinking too much about too many things. "Let me walk you home. Please."
Jinsol smiles, but it's bitter.
"No. I can't let you do that. You know I can't."
Hyunjin lets her go, and tears well up in her eyes because of it.
[...]
Weeks go by before they meet again. The passing time is not on purpose- at least on Hyunjin's part. She seeks Jinsol wherever she goes, and Jinsol is never there, no matter how much she wants her to be. Sometimes Hyunjin understands, sometimes she only thinks she does. It matters to her a lot, but at the same time, she believes Jinsol will find her when she is ready.
However, Jinsol isn't ready when she does find her. In fact, her eyes say she wishes their fateful meeting happened under different circumstances. Hyunjin wishes the same after seeing the state she's in: a split lip, a swollen cheek and a bruising rib cage.
Hyunjin has to struggle to close the latch on her window after quickly assessing Jinsol's bad state. Her hands are shaking so badly that she almost pinches her finger on it. She stumbles to lock her bedroom door, and frantically walks back to Jinsol who's doubling over in her bed.
"I'm so- what happen- what can I do?" She quickly settles on the last, thinking that being sorry or asking what happened isn't gonna help much.
"Help me lie down." Jinsol mumbles. The blood is still drying on her chin, and it rubs off on Hyunjin's shirt when she supports Jinsol's back, trying to be very gentle even as she's shaking.
"Can I take your shoes off?"
Jinsol nods, taking very labored breaths and closing her eyes. Hyunjin starts undoing the bunny loops in her chucks, standing for a second until she automatically kneels. For some reason, Hyunjin finds it the easiest thing in the world to do一to kneel, if it's for Jinsol.
After loosening the laces, Hyunjin carefully takes off her shoes, placing them side by side on the floor. They look lovingly worn, with faded drawings everywhere on the rubber. Hyunjin wants to ask what they are, but she leaves it in her mind for later. She focuses back on Jinsol, being suddenly hit with a thousand emotions all at once一 what prick did this, where are they- no, Jinsol needs me, not a hero, I'm a coward anyway- she probably hates me- I'M PROBABLY THE REASON THIS HAPPENED IN THE FIRST PLACE, I HATE MYSELF- no, she wouldn't want me to blame myself.
I'll do it anyway.
"Hyunjin. Please. Look at me."
She does.
"This wasn't you. Okay? I was careless."
"Don't say that!" Hyunjin grits her teeth. She slides on her knees - closer, she needs to be closer - and rests her hand atop Jinsol's. "If it wasn't me, then it wasn't you either. So say it. I need to hear you say it."
Jinsol stays silent a while, her eyes darting until they start to well up with tears, and she gulps.
"It wasn't.. it wasn't my fault."
Hyunjin smiles, but she's close to crying too. She holds Jinsol's hand in hers, cradling it close to her face, kissing it like it is her duty to do so. She doesn't care about how dark their path might be anymore - doesn't care about being reserved or locked tightly shut when it comes to what she feels for Jinsol, because it's the only thing she has been sure of this entire time, even as she previously denied it, buried it deep where only she could find it.
Jinsol's eyes are asking again, and this time Hyunjin does answer, though not with words. She gets up as Jinsol makes space for her on the bed, and lying next to her is exhilarating and difficult and a shot of adrenaline all at once. Hyunjin wonders if this kind of sentiment is proof of God一while at the same time, knowing very few would take her word for it even if she were to shout it from rooftops. What a cruel mindset to have.
Jinsol turns to her, moving slowly and trying to mask a grimace. They're still more alike than different, looking at each other's lips and stifling awkward laughter. Jinsol sees the worry in Hyunjin's eyes. "It doesn't hurt anymore, if that's what you're wondering."
They both want to lean in, but Hyunjin does it first. She has never kissed anyone before, and yet as Jinsol's lips part to meet hers it seems like she knows exactly what to do. There's fire in her veins, traveling so fast Hyunjin can't keep up, can't think. Jinsol's hand is on her waist, just resting there and yet wreaking havoc. Hyunjin cups her face, nuzzling her cheek with her nose, trying to inhale as much of Jinsol as she can.
"Ow-"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" but Jinsol steals her mouth again before it can mutter any more apologies, drinking her like she is the last sip she'll ever have. They're both breathless as they part, still very much attached everywhere else.
Hyunjin feels fluttery, like she could push off the ground and never come back down. And at the same time, Jinsol's hand is keeping her anchored and steady.
In the quiet betweens, Hyunjin wishes she didn't ever have to be anywhere else.
[...]
The blood-stained shirt is stashed underneath her bed. It's the only proof一apart from memory, but memory is faulty一that Jinsol was ever there. She left the way she came, traipsing through the grass in the dark after kissing Hyunjin goodbye. Jinsol assured her that her dad would understand; that they had gone through enough in their lives and didn't keep secrets, not anymore. Hyunjin puzzled over exactly what that meant, and she wanted to ask in due time.
For now, she would worship the indelible mark Jinsol left on her, something so powerful it went way beyond her skin, her muscle. Hyunjin starts humming the tune Jinsol played for her, finding it ingrained in her brain even after so long. She remembers how acquainted Jinsol seemed with the keyboard- her fingers moved with dexterity in such little time.
Hyunjin can't help but wonder where she plays. She wonders if she got close enough to Jinsol's house, could she hear music? Maybe something jazzy, or soulful, with her dad as the audience? Hyunjin can picture it: Jinsol improvising while her dad cooks; practicing a piece and getting his immediate feedback. It's something she desperately wishes she could see for herself, something she could live through. Unfortunately, Hyunjin can't soar within hymns, and her family can't give her more than prayer.
But she is okay with that. Sometimes you have to find what you seek elsewhere, and Hyunjin has a pretty good lead on where to go next. Knowing this town so well is now a virtue rather than a bore, and taking more than one bus has never been so exciting. So Hyunjin arrives at the border, between her town and another, where the outcasts lie. She knows this much through whispers一gossip and the like.
Hyunjin has never been a fan of it, but now that it comes in handy, it's not like she'll forsake it. Because without it, she would never have heard of that little bookstore in the corner of the street, one by the name of The Beekeep. She comes in without hesitation, feeling a shift in the air- or maybe it's just her. The place is what you could call an organized mess: Hyunjin can see there's rhyme and reason to everything, but it's worn and frayed on the edges.
As she walks, Hyunjin spots a wall littered with posters and cutout images. Most of them feature something Hyunjin would never see anywhere near her house: women embracing, holding hands, kissing. It's a novelty that shocks but delights her, and her stomach flutters and her mind brings her back to Jinsol.
"Can I help…" someone trails next to her, and Hyunjin sees a stunned expression when she finds them. It's a girl about her height, cradling a few books in her arm. The name tag adhered to her flannel reads Jiwoo.
"Oh, hi." Hyunjin suddenly doesn't know what to say. She didn't think this far. "um, sorry. I- I'm sorry, I wanted to- uh-"
Hyunjin wants to curse. What, you're gonna ask the first person you see to give you advice on being.. gay? Yeah, sure, let's go with that.
"You're Hyunjin, right?"
Huh?
"Sorry, I kinda- recognized you right away. Did your dad send you here? To scope us out?" The nonchalance in Jiwoo's voice tells Hyunjin a million things at the same time. All of them significantly dampen her mood. "We're not doing anything illegal, just so you know. You can check under the counter if you want."
"No!" Hyunjin yells out instinctively. She's eager to fix her mistake. "Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I- I'm not here to scope you out. I'm not here because of my dad. I'm here to ask for advice."
"What? No way. What? No way. What?" Jiwoo just keeps looping.
"What's happening?"
Out of the blue, someone else shows up. Her name tag says Taeyeon. Hyunjin is unsure of what is happening herself, so she can't answer the question.
"Sorry, I'm- having a bit of a moment."
Taeyeon, like Jiwoo, seems to recognize Hyunjin right away. She shoos Jiwoo to the back, placing another book on her pile as she does, and leads Hyunjin further inside, where a small couch and beat up coffee table are tucked. Taeyeon lets her sit on the couch and takes a stool in front of a bookshelf for herself. The atmosphere she brings is strikingly different from anyone else Hyunjin has ever met before, and if there's a person in the world who can shine a light for Hyunjin, it is her.
"I think I know why you're here. But I'd like you to tell me yourself, if that's okay."
And Hyunjin does. She tells her about her family, about religion- and how much it doesn't resonate with her. Tells her about the church, and music, and Jinsol. Hyunjin finds herself stumbling through words sometimes, but Taeyeon is always patient, listening intently. Tells her in the vaguest and fewest words she can muster that someone hurt Jinsol. And rambling, Hyunjin tells her that she has feelings for Jinsol. Feelings that surfaced through the depths, and rose beyond the water to soar through the air.
Hyunjin is not that specific, but she feels it. And Taeyeon's face tells her she understands without even saying a thing.
"I've been in your shoes." She says very simply, but her eyes are candid. "They're very tight and uncomfortable shoes. Not fun. And you, Hyunjin, you should be having fun. Kids your age deserve that. You deserve joy. I wish I could give you that right away, but there's only so much I can do. I mean, look at this place, right? It smells old and kinda funky."
Hyunjin laughs at Taeyeon's attempt to be goofy.
"It's not much, you would say. Just a dot on the map. But I believe it's bigger than that. You know why?"
"Why?"
Taeyeon's eyes turn dour. "Because they break our windows every week. Because they spit at our doorstep, and tag our walls, and send cops for every little thing. Because they know our dot on the map is more powerful than they ever could have imagined. I know I've just given you enough reasons to give up. To pretend and to lie and to mask. But I'm asking you: please don't. Because you deserve joy, and Jinsol gives you that. And even if your parents don't see that joy, we will."
On the way out, Taeyeon leans in and whispers: "If you're around here and someone is trying to attack you, just scream 'is that a bee?'. We're always close by."
And Hyunjin goes home, cradling a book inside a paper bag.
[...]
Today's mass is a surprise to everyone, including Hyunjin. Because the one person everyone expects to miss it, shows up. If this town wasn't filled with a bunch of cowards, there would be a collective gasp. Instead, everyone just stares at Jinsol and her dad as they find their seats.
Hyunjin finds it hard to keep it together, but she tries anyway. She's happy to be on the side, behind a keyboard and a bunch of audio gear, and not center stage like her father. But it's enough to keep her nervous, and she has to kickstart her brain like a motorcycle when the ceremony starts. She keeps telling herself, don't look at her too much, don't look at her at all! , but it is like her gaze is hardwired to seek Jinsol. So she finds the blind spots, the brief moments where everyone else is lost in worship, singing along with the vocalist with their eyes closed.
And when Hyunjin finds those moments, Jinsol finds her. She nods to the melody, even if the song isn't them. Jinsol gestures like a conductor, very sneakily smiling when it cracks through Hyunjin's attempt at being serious. But when they're not alone in this packed church, Jinsol looks deeply unamused, if not uncomfortable. Hyunjin wonders if she's still hurt. Her lip and cheek look fine on the surface, and it doesn't look like her rib cage bothers her anymore. But being hurt goes beyond that, and Hyunjin is terrified all of a sudden, resting her hands on her knees as her father speaks.
None of his words reach her ears. It's like her head is below water, and Hyunjin feels like she is battling currents, trying to not just wash her away, but kill her. Her lungs constrict and her chest tightens and nothing- no one can reach her. It is deep, and dark, and-
"Hyunjin. Communion. Come on." The drummer helps her up, and she's thankful for it, because she doesn't think her legs would have worked by themselves.
Hyunjin is still in a trance while standing in line for communion. Hell, she shouldn't even be in line for communion. But it's a ritual she has grown used to, and when her father says "The Body and The Blood of Christ", Hyunjin says:
"Amen."
And she doesn't know why she expects Jesus to strike her down right then and there, but nothing happens. Nothing. The wafer dissolves in her mouth, and there is nothing else to do but walk and pretend, as she has done and will probably continue to do. It doesn't taste bitter, and it doesn't taste holy. It's just bread soaked in wine. And Hyunjin plays, and sings, but they're just words. And the ceremony ends, and everyone shakes her hand, and they're just-
Jinsol reaches for her hand too, after probably begrudgingly shaking so many others. But instead of pretending, instead of saying "may the peace of Christ be with you" or some such…
"Sorry for getting blood on you." And she smiles, grasping Hyunjin's hand for one more second than she should, and then backs away, her words lost in the crowd of believers. Hyunjin wants to go after her, to say that she didn't have to apologize, to say that receiving that kind of mark is more than Hyunjin ever could have wished for. But she wants joy, the kind of joy Taeyeon told her about.
So Hyunjin lets the words simmer in her mouth, waiting.
By the time it gets dark and Jinsol waits for her in the empty parking lot, the simmer has turned into a boil. Her body is aching, almost feverish, and when Jinsol reaches for her waist, Hyunjin is ready to explode, digging into her hair and kissing her with a need so urgent Jinsol has to bite her lip to make it stop.
"Woah, there." She catches her breath. "I'm not going anywhere."
"I know." Hyunjin struggles to find more words, cupping Jinsol's face and searching her eyes for something to hold on to. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want anyone to hurt you."
Jinsol sighs, and Hyunjin is terrified again.
"My dad convinced me to come. He said I should attend, even if it's only for you." Jinsol strokes the side of her face, sullen. "Hyunjin. I need to keep up appearances."
Hyunjin shakes her head, only feeling the tear when it slides down her cheek.
"Don't. Please, Jinsol. I can pretend. I can pretend for the both of us. Please, let me."
Jinsol wipes the tear away, and hugs Hyunjin tight, and there's nothing holier than that.
[...]
There has never been a moment where Hyunjin considered she would be in such a situation. She remembered her mother telling her excitedly about the future, and the time where she would be on the opposite side, but now Hyunjin has no point of reference and no advice to refer back to.
She is meeting Jinsol's dad. Hyunjin wishes her filial instincts kicking in would do some good, but Jinsol and her dad told her to sit at the table and leave it to them, so naturally her leg won't stop bouncing. At least, there are benefits to sitting and waiting; she can silently inspect and observe and absorb every detail that has been unknown to her before. The piano is in the living room, and a part of her brain lights up, picturing scenarios too adorable not to smile about. There are pictures on the walls she wants to investigate closely; a sound system with a record tray packed to the brim.
The house is not the only thing Hyunjin pays close attention to, though. She hears their idle chatter, their obvious unity- and how their laughter sounds exactly the same except for the tone. He jokes and Hyunjin instantly understands Jinsol's humor. Hyunjin feels their joy, and her heart aches a little before she convinces it to stop.
By the time they set the meal down, her stomach is growling, and her hunger almost defeats her table manners. Jinsol is smiling and her dad looks nervous when Hyunjin takes her first bite of pasta.
"Good?" Jinsol has a glint in her eyes, smiling so big her cheeks probably hurt.
Hyunjin resists the urge to speak while still chewing.
"Oh my God. Sorry, I- it's delicious."
Jinsol playfully elbows her dad. "See? I told you. You're a great cook."
He tells Hyunjin stories, and she collects them all like precious treasures. Jinsol interjects every once in a while to correct a detail he got wrong, or add something he missed. Hyunjin desperately wants to join their wavelength, but she knows that's not something she should wish for in the first place. It's a dangerous thing to wish for something you can't have.
"You know, Hyunjin, I talk with your father a lot. And not just because he's the preacher."
This provokes her curiosity. She has never considered for a second that there's anything else to talk about at church than religion. "What do you talk about?"
"Oh well.. we talk about this town. About improving community outreach. He has some great ideas about that. He told me how he used to smoke and your mom got him to quit. He talks about you-"
"Me?"
Jinsol's dad is not a liar. And yet, every word coming out of his mouth sounds outrageous to Hyunjin. Well, except for the smoking, of course. But talking about her? No, no way.
"Yes! He does! He's always gushing, too. I can relate to that." He glances at Jinsol, a warm smile adorning his face. "I guess that's why we jive so well. We both know we got lucky to have such wonderful daughters." He pats her head.
"Dad!" Jinsol is embarrassed, and it's adorable. But Hyunjin can't appreciate it fully, because her brain is stuck trying to imagine her father doing anything other than preaching.
"I know you may have a certain idea of him. Heck, that's probably a mistake of his too. But I guarantee you- there's more to your father than preachin'."
Hyunjin is afraid, but she wants to believe it nonetheless.
[...]
It's rare to catch him with free time. Hyunjin's father is a bouncing ball, always going somewhere, but never where you want him to. But Hyunjin is determined to have this conversation, even when it would be very easy not to. She's fighting the urge to retreat into herself again, to never attempt a confession of this magnitude. Even an actual confessionary would feel breezy to her compared to what she's thinking about.
But Hyunjin has made up her mind. It's like a switch has turned in her brain, and the bone-chilling fear and tension walking beside her has taken a paid leave before she could notice it was gone. Whatever it is- courage, stupidity一doesn't matter. She's using it to achieve something that never would have been possible a year ago.
He comes home, but Hyunjin knows it's only a few minutes before he leaves again. She follows him, trying to match his pace.
"Dad- dad. Please, dad. I need to talk to you-"
"Sorry, honey. No can do. Can we do this later?"
"No, dad. We can't. Just listen."
He sneaks a glance at her, and Hyunjin is hoping that her face translates all the desperation she is feeling right about now. If this doesn't happen now, she's afraid it will never happen. To her surprise, he stops. Hyunjin feels relieved and nervous at the same time.
"Honey, what happened? You look so pale." He touches her forehead with the back of his hand. "You don't have a fever."
"Please, dad. Just sit and listen."
The ottoman in her parents' room seems as good a place as any, and they sit side by side. Hyunjin already knew she got her nervous sensibilities from him, but that knowledge is now enhanced. The confident and outspoken man Hyunjin is used to has also taken paid leave, and the man currently next to her compulsively cracks his knuckles.
"I think you already knew I was different." She starts slow and steady, instead of dropping it like a bomb. It's still hard to see her father as anything but a preacher, and she has the feeling easing him into it might make this pill less bitter. "And I am. But I think.. I think I'm more than different. I might be what they call… bent."
Hyunjin knew he would get it, and he does. What she didn't know was how hard he would hug her, or that he would hug her at all. She expected deafening silence, or a plain walkout. But he's hugging her so tight, and yet she feels like she can finally breathe after holding it for a long time. He's kissing the top of her head, rocking her back and forth with such vigor that the ottoman moves from its place.
"Oh, honey… thank you so much for telling me. I love you so, so much."
She can't see through her tears, but she looks at him anyway. "So you're not kicking me out?"
"No! Hyunjin, I would never! Even if God descended from the heavens right now and demanded it!"
The imagery coming to mind disturbs her. "Alright, you don't need to be so extreme, that sounds way too weird coming from your mouth."
He laughs. "Sorry. No more blasphemy from dad."
"Even weirder."
Hyunjin is happy to confirm without a shadow of a doubt that Jinsol's dad was right. But a realization soon dawns on her.
"Oh, what about mom? Do I tell her too?"
She waits as he thinks, clicking his tongue and staring into nothing, another trait they share. "Uh, maybe wait a little longer. I'll see if I can soften her up for you."
Hyunjin doesn't mind waiting this time. She thinks that this joy she's feeling right now will last quite a while.
[...]
It's a very exhilarating feeling to share a bus seat with Jinsol. Hyunjin never imagined such a small thing would make her so excited, but there have been so many other seemingly insignificant things she got to experience with Jinsol that turned out to be some of the happiest moments in her life.
"You're so giddy it's making me nervous."
"Sorry, I'm just imagining your face."
Jinsol pinches her cheek. "I'm real. You don't have to imagine me." She laughs, and it's the most beautiful and silly sound in the world.
"I don't mean like that. When you see it." Hyunjin looks out the window, trying to spot it in the distance.
"See what?"
Hyunjin's heart races when Jinsol leans into her space, looking outside with her. "Nope. Not falling for it."
"Aww. I was so close."
The bus crawls to a halt, and Hyunjin urges Jinsol forward as they disembark. It's a nice, lazy afternoon as they walk on the shadowed sidewalk, arms brushing every now and then. Jinsol's face morphs into a mix of confusion and trepidation as they approach The Beekeep. Hyunjin is not worried in the slightest.
She leads her inside, feeling warm as the familiarity sets in. The place is still largely the same- although some books seemed to have changed locations. Hyunjin walks toward the nearest person with Jinsol in tow.
"Hi," her body is electric with excitement. "is Taeyeon here?"
She turn around. Her name tag reads Heejin.
"Who's asking?"
Hyunjin immediately understands the expression in Heejin's face.
"Uh, sorry. My name is Hyunjin. I don't know if you know me, but Taeyeon does. Know me." Hyunjin nods toward Jinsol, who seems amazed and confused all at once. Understandable.
"Oh." Heejin nods, pursing her lips. "She got arrested protecting Jiwoo from some homophobic dirtbags. Sorry. I really wish I had better news to give you."
All the energy leaves Hyunjin's body in a second. She really shouldn't have been so optimistic.
"Is… is Jiwoo okay?" Jinsol mutters, stepping out from behind Hyunjin.
Heejin shrugs. "I guess okay is… an okay word. She's feeling pretty down though. I think she could use some joy."
Joy.
The word makes them look at each other at the same time. Hyunjin doesn't know if their similarities make them both geniuses or fools.
"Where is she?" She asks.
"In the back."
And they go, and they help organize and move some dust from one place to the other, as Jiwoo puts it.
"You can't get rid of it. It just moves."
Jinsol laughs out loud even knowing that she isn't joking. And they talk about their joy, whether it's past or present, and they read passages from random books and Jiwoo shares stories about Taeyeon trying to be a hero even when it backfires. But she seems to perk up as Hyunjin remembers Taeyeon's everlasting words.
"She just wanted to give you joy, didn't she? In any way she could. I wanted to give it back, you know. The joy she gave me."
"I'm not dead, you know?"
Hyunjin freezes. Taeyeon is standing there, in the doorway. Sure, her hair is a mess and she's favoring her left leg, but she's there. Jiwoo wastes no time running toward her and crushing her body in a hug.
"Alright, honey, alright…" but she hugs her back, and Hyunjin can swear she sees Taeyeon tear up for a moment. "Is she the one?" Taeyeon nods her head toward Jinsol, and Hyunjin smiles.
"Yeah. She's the one."
Hyunjin welcomes the homely feeling that takes over her when Taeyeon smiles. She understands that there's still things to worry about, things to fight for. She understands that walking outside and holding hands with Jinsol might not happen anytime soon. But she can invite Jinsol over, and they can go fishing with Jinsol's dad. Maybe they have to be safe and smart and learn how to run fast. But the studio is theirs after Hyunjin's bandmates go home.
Because they deserve joy. Even if others disagree.
"Now let's hear it from her perspective." Taeyeon says, settling into her stool after having them take the couch.
And Hyunjin sneaks a kiss before Jinsol starts speaking.