Pivot ft Kim Yooyeon

You walk towards your destination, the school corridors more lively than you’ve ever seen on a Monday morning. Congratulations and “I knew you could do it” come from fellow classmates and staff but you ignore them, focused on keeping your steps steady and controlling your rapidly increasing heart rate. You had to see it for yourself. You had to see your name above hers in the school rankings. Your rival:

Kim Yooyeon.

Okay, maybe saying she’s your rival is a stretch. Not when she’s beaten you at almost everything for the last who knows how many years (your parents are friends with her parents so maybe your whole life). Your classmates claim you are so who are you to argue? You’re too busy trying to beat her to refute it anyway.

You reach the board holding the school rankings. Your hands are sweaty, breath fast and shallow. You scour for your name and find it.

At the number 1 spot.

And below you?

Kim Yooyeon.

You release a shaky breath, the noise around you quietens until all you hear is your heartbeat beating a mile a minute. You can’t believe it. You finally beat her. The cram schools, the late night study sessions, it was all worth it. And now? You can’t wait to gloat.

——

“I heard she was sick during the exam week. It’s why she didn’t get top spot.”

“Really? I heard she’s already taking college classes. Her parents think it’s time she gets a challenging education. I mean it makes sense. She would be first if it wasn’t for that.”

You snap your pencil at that. Everyone looks at her and fawns over her and—

“Is the VP of the student council here?”

You’re taken out of your thoughts by a member of staff that helps run the student council with Yooyeon. Another thing she’s taken from you.

She sees you before you’re able to respond and walks briskly to your desk, dropping budgeting reports, applications, newsletters onto your worksheets. “Could you go over these with Yooyeon when you have the chance? Preferably today. Thanks,” she says as she leaves the classroom, not giving you time to reply.

You sigh before placing them inside your bag, already dreading the impromptu meeting.

——

Turns out she never made it to school. An hour on transportation lands you outside her apartment door. You knock on the door and ring the doorbell and when it finally opens you’re greeted by her mom.

“Oh! What are you doing here?” She says in that surprised tone you remember hearing when you were younger. You haven’t seen her in a long time and yet she’s still the same as she’s always been. You should visit more often, if it wasn’t for the fact she was the mother of your nemesis.

“Hi auntie, just came to talk to Yooyeon about something. School related. Is she here?” You reply, keeping it brief. The sooner you get these to her, the sooner you can get away from enemy territory.

“She’s at the convenience store right now. Come on in!” She ushers you inside before you could reply, directing you to Yooyeon’s room before leaving to prepare snacks.

You stand there awkwardly, unsure where to look or what to do. You expect her room to be filled with notes from various subjects, old cup noodles from studying sessions and books strewn across the room. Instead… it’s nice. In a way that if you were to guess the personality of someone based on their room, your first thought wouldn’t be number 1 at school. Books are neatly arranged on shelves, bed made as if no one’s slept on it, and fairy lights hanging around the room. Her scent is potent and surrounding you as if it doesn’t want to let you go, dizzying you.

You take the council files out of your bag, move swiftly to her desk and place it there. The computer suddenly comes to life, the mouse moving after placing the documents and on the screen you see something… unexpected. Something so different from the Yooyeon you know, something if certain people found out, would definitely be disappointed in. Something—

“What are you doing?”

Startled, you jump back, accidentally hitting the space bar and playing the video. An audition tape. Of Yooyeon introducing herself, moving close to the camera to play a song she begins dancing too. It’s… not great but you see her passion in the moves. Your chest tightens watching the tape, not recognising the Yooyeon you see on the screen. You lean closer to the monitor—

“HEY!”

It takes a moment before you can acknowledge anything— your brain still trying to process what you saw on the monitor. Yooyeon swiftly moves to the computer, pausing the tape and stares at you with fury in her eyes.

You take a proper look at her now. An oversized grey hoodie engulfs her small frame, the hood is up casting a shadow over her eyes. Her face is bare but even you have to admit she’s still beautiful. You figure she’s not the school’s goddess for no reason.

For a brief moment, you’re captivated by this version of her, your cheeks warming. This version isn’t the one that wears her uniform immaculately, isn’t the one that is surrounded by people who want something, isn’t the one that is paraded around by the school faculty. This version of Yooyeon looks tired of being the poster child, the perfectionist everyone expects her to be.

“You’re auditioning?” The question comes out of your mouth before you register what you’ve done. It’s obvious what she was doing. You didn’t need to ask; the way she narrows her eyes makes it clear this was supposed to be a secret.

“Yes I am”, she mutters under her breath. She doesn’t say anything more than that, not that you expect anymore. She doesn’t owe you an explanation. But something about her quick sentence and the tone she used irritated you.

You know about the expectations placed on her by her parents, how she’s supposed to go to university, how she’s supposed to follow in her parents footsteps and become a doctor or something medical related. You know from your parents that her parents are strict, that they have the next 20 years of her life planned out. And from the constant praise and the lack of outcry from Yooyeon herself, you expected her to follow that plan. The fact she has an audition tape catches you completely off guard.

You look at the door and then at Yooyeon, a plan formulating in your mind. You know it’s petty but you want to make her suffer and there’s only one way to do that. “AUNTIE!”, you move towards her bedroom door ready to spill the news except a hand flies over your mouth and legs are wrapped around your torso. You’re wearing a Yooyeon sized backpack and this backpack is pulling you away from the door and back to the centre of the room. She’s freakishly strong or you’re embarrassingly weak because she’s got you stuck unable to move at all.

“Is everything okay in there?”, her mother asks from behind the closed door.

“Everything’s fine! Don’t worry!”, she replies in return, her grip on you still as tight as ever preventing you from escaping her grasp. At some point you give up trying to remove her and instead focus on not dropping her. You feel her breath tickling your ear, her perfume—soft and sweet—surrounds you until she is all you can smell. Her grip tightens around your shoulders, her body pressed firmly against yours, and your head goes all fuzzy from all the contact. This isn’t a situation you’ve been in before and you wish you could share this with anyone besides Yooyeon, your rival. (You had to remind yourself what your relationship with her is)

Once her mother’s footsteps retreat back to the kitchen, Yooyeon leans into your ear whispering, “I’m letting you go now. Don’t do anything stupid.” You move a couple steps away once she climbs off. Your face still red from her close proximity and heartbeat racing. You breathe in deeply in an attempt to lower your heart rate. It doesn’t work.

“Listen. You can’t tell anyone about this, especially my parents. They would freak out.”

“Why should I help you? Keeping this a secret doesn’t benefit me at all.” You reply.

You watch her sigh loudly, her composure replaced by frustration and annoyance. Her eyes scan your face, looking for anything in your expression that she could use.

“What do you want?” She asks, gritting her teeth. She hates this. This predicament she finds herself in, that she needs to rely on someone to keep a secret. And you? You could leave, promise to keep it a secret and never interact with her again. But you remember the rankings, the stolen presidency on the school council, how she seems to be better than you in everything. You’re not going to make it easy for her. Definitely not.

“Well—“

——

The next time you see her was in the school’s library, sitting at a table in the middle, far from other students (as the number one student, the faculty made sure no one would bother her during study sessions).

You scan the place, looking for a table to study at to no avail. The only seat left was at Yooyeon’s table. Normally you wouldn’t entertain being near her. You could leave and study someplace else but she’s alone right now and the dirt you have has made you confident. She wouldn’t kick you off her table. Right?

You approach opposite of where she’s sat, placing your bag to an adjacent chair and sitting across from her. She pauses her writing, glances up at you for a second before returning to her study material.

“I have a question.”

“What?” She doesn’t glance at you, focused on the paper in front of her.

“Why do you want to be an idol?” You whisper.

“Because I want to.”

“But why?”