Ribbons

"Are you sure you’ll help me put up this damned tree?“

Chaewon doesn’t bother to give you even a single glance as you scramble to build a makeshift Christmas tree—the same tree she herself bought, tall enough to poke through the living room’s ceiling. The same tree she herself took an entire day of your time out to decide.

The same tree that costs tens of thousands of Won. And you’re left to set it up—alone.

"I will! I’m just—busy,” she tells you, already hooking her purse around her shoulder, preparing to leave. “You know how tiring these year-end festivals get.”

“I know, but there’s hardly a need to buy this kind of tree when all I wanted was a simple celebration,” you say. Looking over your shoulder, watching her fulfill her obligations to her team than you—the balls you’ve been holding almost slip, much like your grip on her.

“Please. I’m asking for a lot, but don’t get mad, okay? It’ll be even more tiring once I’m home, and I’d rather you forgive me now instead of listening to the radio blaring throughout our entire apartment,” she sighs, as if there was genuine risk of it occurring. “I want us to have some semblance of peace this holiday.”

You don’t have much to say in return. In fact, all you can do is wonder whether her team, the agency—perhaps both—wouldn’t allow her to cancel the few commitments she still has. Whether her being Chaewon—Kim Chaewon of Le sserafim—is the real reason she needs to upkeep her image, because it certainly hasn’t helped her case here.

“Take care, and do tell me when you’ve finished with the tree,” she adds, before closing the door on you and making her way out.

Anything to avoid that conversation. Anything to avoid the elephant in the room.

And so you never got the answer you so desperately wanted. Her absence was inevitable, but a hard pill to swallow. After all, if she said her schedule is busy, then who are you to doubt. All you can do is nod, tell her you love her, hoping for the best from the world that’s so cruel and quick to turn its back on her with just a single mistake.

It had been years since the last Christmas you spent together. She was 21 then, her career path in the dark, forced to remain silent while plans were put into motion. The holidays were one of the rare times that you’d see each other. Video calls and subtle gestures through performances were difficult, though only half as bad as it could be with how active the entertainment industry can be at this time of year. At least she has four sisters she can confide in; you’d been living on your own the moment you got your diploma.

With each passing year, her presence has shrunk more and more, counting the hours you see her during the holidays with your hands. You’ve accepted the fact that you’d have to celebrate the holidays alone. It’d be a Christmas miracle if Chaewon barely makes it before the clock hits twelve, or during the wee hours of the next morning, as is becoming the norm.

Tonight is no different to the three eves that came before. You have a bottle of champagne, and she has dress rehearsals. As per usual, your glass would be empty within minutes, while hers will remain completely untouched.

You just pray she sees it when she walks through that door.

Your body feels heavy under the sheets as you try to shake her off your mind. The thought of her alone is a combination of sadistic and masochistic, since no matter which way you slice the situation, it tends to result in an uncomfortable heat and a sigh. You cannot blame the alcohol, even when it does help—it isn’t strong enough. You can’t even blame yourself, as the more you think about it, the more you’d rather wish the company would decline SBS’ offer.

A thought that you need to expunge from your system entirely. You can’t possibly hate what she’s good at doing—you’ve heard the stories first-hand from her, watched clips that are far less than professional in nature, yet the sentiment remains the same: that you’re nothing short of ecstatic that your girlfriend’s doing well, even if you’re never 100% certain that you’re part of that same sentiment.

Never. You sigh again upon the realization that it’s entirely on you for being a petty, insecure bitch, not being able to appreciate a part of her life that makes her truly happy. If only your dopamine response was wired more aggressively for things other than seeing Chaewon, then maybe your brain wouldn’t spin this thing into the most inconvenient web of emotional torture.

Things were starting to get better, too: she’d devoted more of her time off with you since last year. Through all the verbal abuse hurled toward her and everything they did, she rediscovered you as a key part in her emotional recovery. Twelve months, two comebacks, and a world tour later, Chaewon’s slipping through your fingers for the holidays once again, falling even further away from your grasp than before. She’s happier than ever, but the reality is crushing you beneath its weight, drowning you, causing you to yearn for her even more.

You just pray she knows when things start to become unmanageable for the third time.

As the clock winds down on an otherwise slow Christmas Eve night, you’ve accepted that she won’t be home by midnight. It was too wishful to have waited, too hopeless to think otherwise, though the melancholic glaze over your eyes, along with the sudden exhaustion, make that fact all the more pronounced.

Chaewon hadn’t spoken a single thing about the tree. She hasn’t seen the final output either, even when you’ve sent her pictures as requested. Not even an emote to let you know she read even once. This was all yours, and you’ve got no one to celebrate with.

Merry fucking Christmas indeed.

Perhaps it was better for you to spend your holiday alone; all that’s left are reminders of Chaewon. At the very least, you have memories of a time before when you were hers. When things were different and infinitely more peaceful than now, and the biggest of issues for her involved wanting the red pair of shoes that were just a bit too expensive. You were determined to save up to buy them, if only because of the smile that would illuminate her face as she reached her arm up high to wrap it around you, in return of you trying the new outfit she purchased specifically for you.

The sweet scent of her perfume will bring you back to a time when these small celebrations could be the highlight of your entire year. It did enough; her mere presence beside you would be more than enough. You’d settle for the small, genuine, moments, no matter how short they may be. However, fate, like always, has other plans in store.

***

It’s close to midnight when you’re woken up from your early slumber. Not by fireworks, not by party music from neighbors next door, not even from animal cries—but from the repeated thumping and bumping of something close by.

Cursing underneath your breath, if that damned Christmas tree was somehow in tatters by the time morning hits, you’d have no qualms taking it out of Chaewon’s pay. If only that kind of shit was reasonable.

Instead, you sigh and drag your body out of the bed, sliding through the covers in the least graceful fashion imaginable: your head thumping, dragging your legs with each step that you take closer to the commotion. You’ve got a baseball bat in hand, because even with a handgun tucked deep in your closet, you’re not gonna pop some firecrackers on a time like this.

Checking from the tiny peephole on your door, the living room is completely dark. It wasn’t like this when you left it; the tree had been lit up, its star at the top shimmering every few seconds in a calming, rainbow hue.

Maybe you did—you’re too inebriated to remember the details. Or perhaps, a sign that it had gotten broken. And maybe Chaewon had somehow caused it when she waddled her drunk ass onto the couch.

Oh, she will pay for your damages for sure.

No, it wasn’t that bad, or at least that’s the story you were spinning in your mind to get to the other side of the door. No, it wasn’t broken. Rather, its position had merely moved; when you’d initially positioned the tree in the center, the trunk was slightly to the left, the lights tangled behind it.

So you slowly reach for the lights, and with the flip of a switch, the room brightens in an instant.

Upon seeing what’s at the center of it all—you immediately drop your bat.

The girl in front of you widens her eyes and covers her mouth in an instant.

“Chaewon?!”

You narrow your eyes, trying to comprehend whether or not this is all part of some alcohol-induced dream. Even in your daze, she’s loud as ever, somehow.

“Hey! I thought you were sleeping, and I just—”

Her words die out halfway, cheeks flushed bright red with shame. You haven’t even addressed the clear elephant in the room, and it’s not about her rare presence: it’s the fact she’s essentially naked from head to toe, covered only by a makeshift Chaewon-shaped box and wrapped in red ribbons all over.

“Jesus Christ, Chaewon,” you say, your gaze wandering all over her pale, slim body, hiding all that skin beneath used cardboard. “What the fuck?”

“So—um—I can explain—you see—”

God, you just fucking love it when Chaewon stutters over herself. Most times, it’s Kim Chaewon: the leader, the professional, the idol. But seeing her like this—beyond the body—it’s seeing the cute girl you fell for at first sight.

“Yeah, I don’t need anything explained.” Slowly, you approach her as she scrambles to tie what appears to be the finishing touches of ribbon around her box. “Do you need help with—whatever this is?”

“I was just gonna ask you to get all this off me, actually.”

“So—this is—”

“I’m the present, yeah,” she states it directly, looking at you with a warm smile. “I just wanna say— I’m sorry.”

You raise a puzzled eyebrow. “For what?”

“For neglecting you,” she says, no beating around the bush. “I haven’t been around, and I know you’ve noticed.”

Not a hard conclusion to reach when the facts stare you directly in the face every single day. “I have. I see it in this room almost every single day.”

“Just know it’s not my intention, okay? This whole idol schtick isn’t as simple as I’ve made it seem,” Chaewon replies, quietly twiddling her fingers together in a subtle attempt to satiate your heart. “I know it doesn’t excuse the way that I’ve left you alone for most of the year, and you deserve more than I can offer you right now.”

“Chaewon—”