To be needed

Suburban Seoul at midnight is a completely different beast; whereas she roars with rubber on asphalt and assorted traffic signals in the day, at night she snores to the tune of cicadas, crickets, crows, and toads in organized cacophony.

On nights like these, moments of quiet rung heavy in your ears, and yet, without fail, remain soothing. The world’s mess and stress of barely tolerable work and expensive cost-of-living disappeared when you laid back on the barrier wall and looked into the stars and their vague constellations.

“Something’s missing,” Lia whispered.

That, and because right beside you on nights like these was Lia.

“Sorry?”

“We really need to have some towels here. Or blankets. Anything but the floor,” Lia thought aloud. “I’d love to actually lie down here.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” you replied. “Just give me the next… two years to save up enough for the nine of you.” An arm backhanded you over the chest.

“I’m serious!,” Lia whined. “Managers are supposed to listen to their idols’ needs, you know.”

“Okay, one: I’m not your manager—”

“Yet!,” Lia shushed you.

“—one-point-five: it’s hardly your choice or mine if I will be your manager. Two: even if I was, buying that kind of thing will still be up to the company. And I’m not spending my own money on you.” Another heavier arm slapped you again, actually stinging your chest.

“Ow!,” you chuckled. “Let me finish first!”

Lia scoffed, throwing a playful tantrum. You turned to face her, or at least the back of her head. “Psst. Jisu-ya.”

She turned her face towards you, twisted into a scowl. Her face may be screaming I’ll-punch-you-again, but she wasn’t gonna ignore a call by your nickname for her – her actual name. You raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Three: even if I wasn’t your manager, of course I’d make it happen. Somehow,” you replied.

The edges of her lips curled into a suppressed smile. “Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “I’ll mark my calendar.”

The both of you looked back up into the sky, and your conversation quickly dissipated into the thrums and thumps of the night.

“Promise me something,” Lia sighed.

“Yeah?”

“Always be by my side.”

You scoffed. “Where’d that come from?”

“Just promise.”

You chuckled next. “That’s not something I have to promise if I already am.”

“Promise!,” Lia whined. “For me.”

The echo of Lia’s plea may have drowned out the thrum of cicadas and toads, but the beating of your heart was much louder. It throbbed in your ears, it ached in your chest, and it rang through your bones. That was Lia for you: the only person who could make you say anything without a second of hesitation.

“I promise, Jisu-ya.”

“What?!”

“Calm down, you two,” the chairman huffed. “People might hear us.”

“Sorry, but– Chairman-nim!,” Lia exclaimed. “Y-you can’t be serious!”

“I am,” he continued sternly. “Let me run it by you again: Lia, your job as leader isn’t to be ‘the best,’ it’s to keep everyone in check. And you,” he pointed to you, “are there to back her up. Your job as manager is to get these girls onboard with the company’s directives and schedules. And you,” he pointed back to Lia, “are there to help direct the rest of them to do so. What’s so hard to do about that?”

Stunned silence. The chairman made the obviously monumental task sound so simple, even if it wasn’t. He gestured to the both of you to sit down.

“Now, regardless of whatever relationship you two have, I’ve observed you can work together effectively and, therefore, independently.”

“Sir, we don’t have a—,” you tried to butt in, but the chairman waved you off.

“Regardless what you two have or not, just keep it hidden from the press. But honestly? I’d rather you fail at that than lose your synergy, and that’s proof enough of how sure I am with this. Hence, my decision is final.”

You stared into your clasped hands; Lia looked like her body was slowly imploding.

“I get there’s a lot of eyes on you all,” the chairman continued. “But the nine of you are the best we have, with the plus one needed to make it better than the best. I wouldn’t put this on you if I didn’t trust you both. Especially you, Lia.”

Lia’s eyes shot up. “Me, sir?”

“Yes. I could have asked Jimin or Yeji. They’re older, more strong-willed, probably your own picks too. But I need it to be you, because your experience and attitude makes you the only one that even they will listen to. I cannot emphasize enough how important that is. Besides,” he leaned in, “you’d be surprised how the vote went.”

“The… vote?,” she asked.

“Yep, asked the staff to facilitate one with the girls. All but two chose you – not gonna name those two, but you can guess who. You too,” he gestured to you. “Same staff said you’d be the best replacement for Mr. Chan. I’m taking that recommendation seriously.”

Lia looked down at the floor, her foot pushed up against yours, as if to symbolize a fist clenched around yours in hesitation.

“I understand, sir,” she said softly. The chairman looked at you, and you gave a decisive nod.

“Okay. That settles it. And to sweeten the deal,” the chairman added, pulling out a manila envelope, “I’m giving you one week off. Together. Details and tasks are in the envelope.”

The two of you looked at each other, fear replaced by confusion, with a hint of excitement.

“Leader?! What the heck do I know about leading? I can’t even– I don’t even plan my schedule sometimes! So how–”

“Holy fuck, I am so not ready for this. I just started those management seminars! And nine of you! Nine! Of all the–”

The two of you screamed at each other. Not at each other, but quite literally facing each other, hot breath and saliva thrown into each others’ faces – just another day of you two freaking out together.

But just this once, you felt your rant fade into the background, breath still heavy, as you watched Lia just go at it. She ran through all her worries with the team: Jimin and Yeji’s more-rivalry-than-friendly friendly rivalry; Ryujin and Aeri’s individually abrasive, jointly fractious characters; Minjeong and Chaeryeong’s unhealthily silent commitment to perfection; and Yizhuo and Yuna’s unpredictable troublemaking. She had ideas disguised as frantic I-shoulds, insights masked by frustration and fear.

But more so than her panic was… her. The silly shifts in her facial expressions, a voice that hid stores of patience and understanding – you knew you were going to miss that wide smile she does when she’s genuinely enjoying herself, or that hearty, open-mouthed laugh she makes from stupid jokes. You knew Lia long enough by now that those would be the first to go when the worst rolled by. But you also felt a certain drive to make it work, if only to preserve it.

Lia snapped her fingers in your eyes, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you… okay?”

“Oh… sorry. Just lost in thought,” you waved off. “And you’re cute when you’re stressed.” Lia’s cheeks flushed, and her eyes fluttered.

You grabbed her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes; this was your job, your life now, more so than it was before.

“Lia, you spent the past three minutes thinking exactly as a leader does: diagnosing problems, coming up with solutions, and identifying pointpersons and accountability measures. And we just started, if you could say that.”

Her eyebrows sank with her eyes down to the floor.

“It’s not going to be easy. You know it won’t. We’ve talked precisely about how it wouldn’t before. But here we are, actually here. I promised you,” you paused, voice lower, more sincere, “I will always be by your side.”

There was a not-so-brief moment where the world – the cicadas, the cars, the birds, the rustling leaves, and the wind – stood still. Your eyes were locked on Lia’s; your chest felt both heavy and empty. You saw and felt Lia’s chest rise and fall in the same way. In this moment, you shared a common feeling, a common thought, a common struggle – and the firm word of a shared commitment.

And of course, your first reaction was to laugh.

First a chuckle, then a chestier guffaw; Lia did the same, forehead leaning forward, where yours met hers. You stayed there, your chest feeling lighter, yet also beating faster. Lia’s palms started to sweat. But still, you stayed like that.

“Together?,” she asked.

“Together,” you called back.

As if on cue, the door swung open aggressively to the chorale of falling screams (yours included). You turned back to find Jimin, Yeji, and Ryujin on the ground, surrounded by Aeri, Minjeong, Chaeryeong, Yuna, and Yizhuo.

Lia ran to them. “Ya! Are you alright?”

“Ow,” Jimin rubbed her elbow. “Why are you two shouting up here?”

Lia looked back at you for a second, and you gave her a resolute nod, walking up to her. She sighed.

“Hey, I recognize you from our dance practices recently,” Yizhuo remarked. “Are you our new manager?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Glad to meet you all… formally.”

Yeji came up and held Lia’s hand. “Does this mean…”

Lia nodded. “Guess I’m your leader now.” The crowd erupted in varying degrees of enthusiasm: the younger ones really excited, the older ones more tempered, but satisfied.

“Ladies, calm down. I have more good news,” she added, reaching for the manila envelope you reached out to her. The crowd leaned in.

“We’re going on vacation!”

You’ll need to get your ears checked from the collective decibels of their squeals.

“Wake up ladies, we’re here.”

Opening the van doors, you and the herd were instantly blinded by white: unblemished, unchanging (at least from a distance). Breaking the monotony of the snow was a lone cabin, made from a darkened wood, standing out in its… modesty. Sizable, yes, but in no way extravagant. If anything, it served to be a wide, comfy space for 10, maybe 12 people – and only that.

“This is…”

“Amazing!,” Yuna cheered.

“Quaint,” Minjeong rebutted.

“Boring,” Ryujin raised an eyebrow.

“Modest,” Lia nodded in thought, looking at you. Seems you shared the thought.

“Alright ladies, head inside,” you urged.

“I’ll handle them,” Lia added. “Try not to exert yourself too much. Just call for help.”

“Will do,” you grunted, beginning to drag two luggages, one in each hand, up the clear driveway. Straggling behind were Jimin and Yeji, watching you struggle with the bags.

“Um, manager-nim? Need help?,” Yeji asked.

“I’m fine,” you panted. “Taking my time.”

They ignored your advice, starting to unload bags onto the driveway. “I don’t think we’ve properly introduced ourselves,” Jimin said.

“Don’t worry,” you huffed, “that’s for later.”

“Oh,” she remarked. “So there’s a schedule and everything.”

“Kinda,” you sighed, successfully bringing up two of nine bags. At least two more were now halfway through, Jimin and Yeji helping form a chain.

“You’re close with Lia, aren’t you?,” Yeji asked.

“Mhm,” you replied. “Entered the company at the same time.”

“Cool,” Jimin remarked, “are you like, our age?”

“Older,” you remarked, dropping a bag to wipe your brow, “by a year.”

“Young for a manager,“ Yeji exclaimed.

“Well, the chairman had his reasons. I mean, I don’t know those reasons,” you lied, “but he had some, I’d assume.”

Without you realizing it, your brief conversation helped ignore that all bags had finally made it to the porch. Lia stepped out and looked at the three of you, heaving and sweating.

“Uff,” she remarked, “get inside before you all get sick.”

The group sat around the cabin’s main hall, each claiming a stake for their designated clique. On the biggest sofa were Ryujin, Jimin, and Yeji, in that order. Minjeong and Aeri sat on the floor by their feet. On the side seats: to the left were Yuna and Yizhuo, closer to Lia, and Chaeryeong alone on the other chair closer to your eventual side on the right. All said, this was an expected layout, and the noise radiated mostly from the center.

“Alright, had one final call with the chairman to check in,” you hustled back in. You clapped loudly to grab their attention. It took a few seconds for them to give you any mind, but the room fell silent in a moment.

“Right, uh,” you sighed. “Before we talk anything about the week ahead, I’d like to formally introduce myself.” You made a quick speech about everything: the nickname they could call you by, your actual name, your age and birthday, the province you were born in, the school you graduated from, and why in the first place you were here.

“I know some of you have had different managers in different clusters, but for the singular group you are now, and since Chan-sunbaenim will be leaving the company, I’ll be your manager from here on out.” Ryujin typed something and showed it to Jimin. “Do you have any questions?”

Yuna raised her hand. “If you’re our age, why didn’t you just become an idol? You look like you could.” Most of the girls giggled and groaned at the silliness of the question.

“Chairman-nim couldn’t fit me into a new group. ‘Visual hole’,” you joked, and the laughs heightened. “No but, seriously, this is what I wanted to do, so… yeah. Your work isn’t my thing.”

“Why you?,” Ryujin blurted. A more reverent, awkward silence this time. If this was a mental shakedown, you weren’t having it.

“You’re free to ask Chairman-nim about that when we get back,” you smirked. “But I guarantee you the answer will just be along the lines of my skill and his trust in me.” Ryujin looked close to throwing up a predictably sharper retort, but Lia shot a dirty look at her.

“One last,” Yeji dictated, “for the benefit of everyone. How do you know Lia?”

You looked to the corner of your eye, her standing still and looking right at you. That was enough of a go signal.

“Alright, Ms. Choi,” Mr. Chan spoke into the mic. “Again, this is a vocal evaluation for your stability. Do your best.”

Lia heard the opening notes of the song and clutched at the fringes of her sweater. She knew she could hear the music, but they didn’t – that it was gonna be her voice and her voice alone in the empty room, amplified by well-tuned microphones and speakers for the monitoring team. Behind the glass, Mr. Chan and another senior sat at the desk, scribbling notes on their ruled notebooks.

She trembled, enough that her first few notes were slightly shaky. That threw her off for the milliseconds she pondered on the moment, before catching her feet and continuing into the song.

You saw none of that when you stepped in. All you could see were the lights low and the breathy but angelic melodies that flowed out of this stranger’s mouth, perhaps one of the best you’ve heard today roaming the office. The duo turned their chairs to look at you, clicking a button to mute their microphone.

“Good morning, sunbaenim,” you whispered. “I was told to come here.”

“Ah, you’re the intern. Alright, take a seat there and let me wrap this up.” He clicked the microphone open, still silent, while the girl finished her tune. She started looking at you nervously, but resumed her singing.

“Thank you, Ms. Choi. Before some notes – Lia, right? – this is… what’s your name?,” he asked, prompting you to lean into the microphone and introduce yourself. “Thank you. He’ll be interning with me, meaning you’ll get to know him more. Anyway, Lia…”

Mr. Chan proceeded to break down moments in her singing you barely even caught: slightly flat notes, tough landings on quick changes, lack of color, so many other words and concepts you had only heard today. And the girl – Lia, you tried to remember – shakily wrote her own notes. It wasn’t obvious to Mr. Chan since he was reading, but it was to you that she repeatedly bit her lip. You could even tell the hint of dark crimson under the amber light.

“Stop biting your lip,” the other man butted in. “You’re gonna scar them.”

“Sorry.”

“One last thing,” Mr. Chan added, “the world isn’t gonna be like this tech booth. Lots of distractions. You’re gonna have to get used to that. Don’t get rattled. And you,” he looked at you, pointing at the sign above the door you didn’t notice, “it’ll say if we’re recording. Please respect that.”

“Yes, sunbaenim. Sorry.”

“Good. That’s all for now. You, Lia, step outside and move to the meeting room downstairs. I’ll finish something here for a bit.”

When you stepped out, Lia walked side by side with you, silent the whole time. You stared at her feet, and she stared away from you, both only aware of where you had to go, down a few floors. Since the elevators were floors away, you decided to take the stairs, and Lia appeared to hesitantly follow, like she was unsure of what you were doing.

You opened the door, got to the next floor, and…

“Uh,” you looked at Lia, “where’s the door handle?” You pushed at the door, which seemed to be fastened, like it was one-way.

“I’ve never used these stairs,” she said frantically, “what are we gonna do?”

You slammed a hand at the door. “Hello? Anyone out there? Hello?” You checked back upstairs, same thing.

Lia sat at the steps, starting to breathe quickly. Without much thought, you placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. Lia.”

She looked at you, eyes starting to well with tears.

“I’m not leaving you. We’ll get out of this.”

“Ya, what the hell are you doing?! These are emergency doors you–,” he cut off his tirade with a frustrated sigh. “Don’t do that again.”

You both nodded.

“Aish. Kids these days. Come on.”

“Until now,” you chuckled, “Lia’s still scared of that stairwell and, if I’m not mistaken, has taken great lengths to remind you about.” Lia laughed, covering her face in her hands. The younger ones laughed in amusement; the Couch Council had their own hushed conversation, though still giggling.

“Well, that’s about it, yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll have some time to get to know you more this week. Lia? You wanna take over now?”

She looked at you with a deep breath held in her chest. Lia is terrified, or at least brimming with terror. But that was behind the seemingly sure smile, the relaxed face. You hoped it was merely jitters.

“So…,” she started, “I was told about the, uh… the vote.” The group nodded. “Are you sure?”

Most nodded. “Yes, leader-unnie,” Ryujin joked sincerely, garnering laughs from the rest.

“Okay,” Lia smiled, opening the manila envelope. “Anyway, Chairman-nim has left us a set of instructions for this trip. It’s…,” she trailed off, pulling out a thick black binder, “pretty detailed. Oh, and a letter from Chairman-nim to everyone.”

At that, everyone leaned in and sat up to pay attention.

“To our company’s brightest stars,” Lia started. Some awws from the younger ones.

“You are now at the cusp of your debut preparations. You’ve gone through nonstop training and evaluations; for some that’s only just hit one year, and for others twice or thrice that. But you’ve been brought together regardless of your skill, or charm, or wit, because you’re a good mix for each other.”

Lia looked up and glanced at them, still listening and smiling. Leave it to the chairman to be well-loved.

“Now, you deserve to have much needed and much deserved rest. With a little twist: with the help of the rest of the company staff, I have left you a series of tasks and activities that are meant to help strengthen your bond, including with your manager. Just for an overview, these will start tomorrow and end on the day before you leave, making that 5 different tasks. Because of this and the different activities, there will be a wake up and lights out for everyone.”

“Can’t you just tell Chaeryeong when she wakes up before everyone else, then she tells all of us?,” Aeri joked.

“Hey! Why are you making me do all the work?,” Chaeryeong protested.

“While none of this will be filmed or recorded, I have left with your manager one camera and nine boxes of instant film– ”

“Nine?!,” the crowd reacted, some in shock, some in excitement, Lia sitting more on the shock side of that spectrum. She cleared her throat to silence the girls.

“–nine boxes of instant film, one box each. The goal at the end of each day is to give exactly one film each matching the prompt, which your manager will be announcing at the start of each morning and collecting before lights out. The rest of the film, used or unused, you get to keep.”

“Cool,” Ryujin smiled. “Hey Yeji, we can do that photowall you wanted in our dorm.”

“Your manager has been tasked to handle different things for the cabin. Since he’ll be very busy, please take the time to thank him for every meal, every activity, and every errand he’ll be doing for you.”

“Thank you in advance,” Lia smiled at you, half-concerned, half-teasingly. Yizhuo and Yuna started clapping for you, prompting the rest to clap.

“And of course, some things to pass the time: books, board games, a karaoke set with microphones, and arts and crafts, should any of you want them. You can find these in the big black chest– ”

“Wait, did we bring down a big black chest?,” you remarked, looking at Jimin and Yeji, who shook their heads.

“Wait,” Lia paused, “it’s in the letter.”

“–which will arrive with dinner for tonight only, so anticipate it will be more delayed than your van. For now, get cozy. Perhaps you’d like to get to know your manager better, who I’m sure most of you haven’t gotten to know at all.”

You waved, and the girls waved back with awkward smiles. Why did this feel like high school all over again?

“I will see you all in one week. Rest, have a great week ahead, and get lots of rest for some skiing tomorrow. Love– ”

The signoff hadn’t even been muttered when excited cheers filled the wooden walls. They were surprisingly noise dampening, not echoing, but all the more you felt how loud the group was.

“Alright, alright, get some rest first ladies. I’ll call you all for dinner.”

As they filed out, you and Lia walked over to the couch and plopped onto it. You caught Jimin peeking at you from behind the corner, then leaving promptly.

“Long ass letter,” Lia shook her head. “I could feel my throat drying up.”

“I’ll get you some water,” you volunteered, standing up and heading to the kitchen. “This is a really nice cabin.”

“Amazing how Chairman-nim found this place,” Lia added. “So, any ideas who to start talking to?”

“Not sure,” you replied. “Kinda wanted to make my decision over dinner. There’s no deadline on that anyway.”

“Fair,” Lia shrugged. You returned with a warm mug. “Thanks.” She gingerly cupped the ceramic, allowing her fingers to warm. You sat in silence as she took her first sips.

“I think that went well,” you started. “Though the Couch Council scares me.”

Lia almost spat her water. “‘Couch Council’? Is that your name for Yeji and Ryujin and Jimin?”

“For now, yes. Or ‘Ryejimin’. Sounds like a cool subunit name.”

Lia shook her head and sighed. “I think they took it well.”

“Even Ryujin?”

“Hey, she sassed you exactly once,” she argued. “That’s a lot less than her usual.”

“At least our maknaes seem to like me.”

“You have no idea,” Lia teased.

“You did great too.”

“I just read a letter,” she rebutted. “Thanks for calling me literate.”

“But they listened,” you shrugged. “They didn’t question. And, Jimin and Yeji were supportive.”

“I wouldn’t call it that…,“ she cautioned, “but… yeah. Thanks for being there.”

She laid her head on your shoulder.

“I wished I could hold your hand the entire time I was up there,” she whispered. You opened your hand on her knee, and she grasped it hard, feeling the brief moment of vulnerability in full.

“You are now.”

She smiled.

“Oh, maknae-deul, you’re early,” you remarked.

“Yeah, we just wanted to talk,” Chaeryeong began.

“I’ll just fix my stuff and change, I’ll be back,” Lia cut in, patting your shoulder. You waved as she went upstairs, moving off to the side to allow the girls space to sit.

Yuna sat about an arms length from you, Yizhuo leaned her arms and chin on Yuna’s shoulder, and Chaeryeong leaned hers on Yuna’s thigh, between the two on the sofa.

“Manager-nim,” Yuna asked, “when did you get to know Lia-unnie?”

“Yuna, I’m pretty sure I answered this already.”

“Nooo,” she corrected. “I mean, really got to know her as a friend.”

“Ooh, do you have like, a friend-versary?,” Chaeryeong asked.

“A what?”

“An anniversary, of when you became friends,” she added.

“Not really?,” you replied, placing a hand on your chest. “It’s been years.”

“What do you do in your spare time?,” Yizhuo asked. “Like, when you’re not being our manager.”

You thought about it for a second. Besides talking to Lia, not much, but you weren’t about to expose that.

“I cook,” you replied. “Well, learning to. I still burn my fried rice sometimes.”

“That’s concerning, manager-nim,” Minjeong added, now sitting on the armrest behind you.

“I can do basic stuff,” you defended yourself. “Besides, I won’t be doing all the cooking this trip.”

“Really?,” Yizhuo remarked.

“I mean, I have snacks in my bag that I haven’t unpacked yet,” you offered, “and you’re free to cook them yourselves.”

You stood up and opened your backpack to reveal a pack of gummies. “We can split this after dinner. Just us,” you winked. The three clapped excitedly.

“Oh, that’s okay, manager-nim,” Minjeong shook her head. “I’m okay.”

“Knew you’d say that,” you replied, revealing a similar pack of gummies, but sour. Minjeong’s eyes widened.

“How did you–”

“I have my ways,” you grinned. “Also known as Mr. Chan’s notes checked by Lia.”

She reached out to grab it, but you held it back. “After dinner. And for sharing.” You kept both packs in your bag. “You’ll get first handful, I promise.”

“You’re… really nice, manager-nim,” Yizhuo smiled, resting her cheek on Chaeryeong’s thigh now.

“I’d like to think I’m paid to be,” you joked. The crowd giggled at the blatant honesty.

“Aww, look at you, actually getting to know manager-nim,” Lia smiled as she climbed down the stairs and sitting between you and Minjeong – except she sat on your hand as well, now under her butt. You felt the fat that cushioned her molded by your hand, lean from the years of dance training. Resisting the curiosity to grope was easy; keeping hidden the panic in your chest was harder, but still achieved.

“Lia-unnie,” Yuna grinned, “we were just asking manager-nim if you had a friendversary.”

She looked at you, puzzled. “I don’t think we do?,” Lia replied, “but we do go out whenever we feel like it. Like the eomuk stall down the alley back at the building.”

“Have you ever gone out on a date?,” Minjeong smirked mischievously. The three younger ones looked at her with disgust.

“Ya, you can’t just ask that!,” Yuna complained.

“Oh come on,” Minjeong rolled her eyes. “Chaeryeong asked it first.”

“I did– That was a private question!,” Chaeryeong complained, turning to you with shame.

You and Lia just laughed it out.

“Girls, relax,” Lia sighed. “No, we haven’t. I think.” She looked at you.

“None that I’m aware of,” you shrugged.

Your conversation was cut short by a car horn outside the cabin. As you stared outside the window, you realized they came from a car parked outside: a tiny truck with a few black boxes.

“Ladies,” you smiled awkwardly, “a little help, please?”

Imagine a list of what you could possibly cram in a budae jjigae: kimchi, tteok, the good low-sodium spam, sundubu, stringy cheese, fishcake, sausages, instant noodles… You were almost certain the pot that you received would have that. But it was that and so much more – enough that you had some extra you could save for a quick breakfast in the morning. “Enjoy the last meal we’re providing for you this entire trip,” the unmarked note said.

“Leave it to Chairman-nim to treat us well,” Yeji laughed, leaning back on the chair, full. Some of the other girls had finished their meals earlier – the maknaes taking the gummies you promised earlier to their rooms – and now it was just you, Lia, Jimin, and Yeji gathered at the end of the table. Ryujin elected to brew some tea to wash everything down.

“He’s probably treating us because they’re gonna be on our asses so bad when we get back,” Jimin rebutted.

Lia shook her head. “You know they will,” she continued. “Remember last dance evaluations?”

“The most recent one?,” Yeji raised an eyebrow. “I thought only Aeri got chewed out.”

“No, the one before that. The group evaluation,” Lia corrected.

Jimin groaned. “You really think they’re gonna get that choreographer for us for the debut?”

“Is this the one with the blonde ombre hair?,” you asked.

“Yeah,” Jimin replied. “Did you hear anything about that?”

“Nope.”

Jimin sighed. “Guess we’ll just have to wait. And celebrate while we’re at it.”

Ryujin came in with the drinks on a tray and proceeded to carry her mug upstairs.

“Hey, Ryujin! Sit with us,” Lia invited. You gestured the same message.

“No, I’m okay,” Ryujin waved off weakly, “I really just wanna stay in my room.”

“Alright, suit yourself,” you replied. “You’re always free to join.” She bowed respectfully, and bowed out.

Once she was out of view and earshot, you sighed, looking at Jimin and Yeji. “Is she… really like this?”

Yeji shrugged. “Sometimes. It’s not because she dislikes you. She’s just… a little bit too sure of herself.”

“Sorry?”

“When she thinks something of someone, she usually keeps that opinion until they do something to correct that,” Yeji explained.

“And what exactly does she think of me?”

Yeji looked at Jimin, who raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know anything, girl,” Jimin surrendered, “but I do think it’s not as negative as manager-nim makes it out to be.”

“That’s reassuring enough,” you shrugged. “Thanks.”

Lia laid her hand on yours and leaned on your shoulder briefly. “The girls love you. You’re doing fine.”

“It’s not about me,” you dismissed. “Pretty sure being an idol would suck if you didn’t like your manager.”

“Lia’s right, though,” Yeji shrugged. “The maknaes love you. They loved Mr. Chan, sure, but they’re so much more playful with you.”

“Organizing this trip is an instant bonus,” Jimin added. “The good opinion will last for a month at worst.”

“Damn, guess I gotta budget for gummies to smuggle to them,” you joked. Lia looked up at you with a dirty look. “Sparingly.”

“See? You got the full unnie line approval,” Lia remarked.

“Can’t figure out Aeri though,” you thought aloud. You looked to Lia. “Your opinion doesn’t count,” you rebutted. “I bribe you with gelato.” She shook her head mockingly.

“You two are really close, huh?,” Yeji said. “Kinda cute, actually.”

“Imagine the dating rumors,” Jimin commented.

“Chairman-nim deadass said,” and you huffed your chest in lighthearted mockery, “‘As long as you don’t get caught, I approve.’” Yeji and Jimin erupted in laughter.

“There’s no way he said that!,” Jimin giggled.

“He didn’t!,” Lia punched your arm. “He just said we could keep being close friends because we work well.”

“Girl, that’s the same thing!,” Yeji corrected. You all laughed until you sighed collectively.

“Hey, go to sleep soon,” Lia dismissed. “I’m gonna talk a few things about tomorrow’s trip with manager-nim before I tuck in.”

The two looked at each other before bidding their goodnights to the two of you. As they disappeared, you closed your eyes and laid back on the seat, feeling the exhaustion of the day finally wash over you. You sat there with Lia, the two of you alone again, and while it felt that there were several eyes looking around you, you still felt an inkling of the lonesome peace you had with Lia.

You missed it.

And Lia sat there, now hunched over the table with cheek in hand, a strand of hair strewn across her face. You swept it away, causing her eyes to flutter open. She looked at you, opened her mouth to say something, then chuckled to herself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she dismissed, “I just almost called you manager-nim.” You held back a loud laugh.

“I mean, calling me manager-nim for a whole day will do that to us,” you remarked.

Silence; you seemed to be getting a lot of that nowadays from Lia, smiling or not.

“Are you… okay, Jisu-ya?”

Lia breathed out of her nostrils. “Yeah. I think I’m just tired.” She buried her face in her arms. “We haven’t even talked about the schedule for tomorrow.”

“Leave it to me,” you rubbed her shoulder. “I know we’re friends, but as your manager my responsibility is to provide you rest.”

Lia cringed. “Hell no. Mistakenly calling you ‘manager-nim’ is one thing.” She looked you dead in the eyes from under her hair. “I’m never treating you as just my manager.”

“Lia,” you moved your chair closer. “It’s my job. Besides, even if we were just friends, I’d tell you to sleep ahead too.”

Lia held up her tired face between her hands, cupping it and fluttering her eyes. “We’re not just friends, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow, though your heart pounded just a bit faster.

“You’re also my oppa,” she continued in a childish voice.

“Pffft,” you exclaimed. “You don’t even call me oppa anymore.”

Lia pouted, and started whining in an extra high-pitched voice. “Oppaaa,” she wailed.

You couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Jisu-ya.”

She doubled down, scooting her chair closer to you, mockingly placing her head on both her hands. “Oppa.”

You sighed. “Yes, Jisu-ya.”

“You used to love my aegyo,” she said, contorting her lip with matching, cutely folded hands.

You visibly and verbally expressed your appreciative disgust. “Eugh, please stop.”

“You’re so mean,” she pouted.

“What’s gotten into you?,” you chuckled, the only reaction you could evoke to shield that yes, it was working.

Lia stuck out her bottom lip mockingly. “You don’t think I’m cute anymore, oppa?”

You felt the disgust waste away from you. “Lia, you’re cute. I’ve always found you cute.”

“No you don’t,” she huffed, leaning right up to your face with the same pouted lip. “You don’t even like me.”

Your heart raced, as it inexplicably did when Lia always stepped within finger’s length away from your face. Your body tensed up as you felt her torso tower over yours, even if you were undoubtedly the bigger one among you two. Somehow Lia made you feel so small – or rather, that she made you feel like you were, and always have been, equals.

Of course you thought Lia was cute. Because you liked her. You had for years. Life just happened to place you by her side as your actual duty.

You muttered a nervous joke. “W-what if I do?” you paused, “I can prove it, you dork.”

Lia’s pout slowly un-puckered, her eyes locked on yours. Her breathing sounded more labored, more nervous, and she started making light, breathy giggles.

“H-hah,” she smiled weakly, “you wouldn’t do that. You’re too chicken.” She leaned in even closer. “You always have been.”

By now your breaths intermingled inches away from your faces. Lia leaned over you, your wrists pinned down to the armrests by her light frame. You could see the blacks of her irises dilate, her nervous smile twitching, but unmistakably certain.

You mustered your own challenge. “You know I would–,” you choked on your breath, “w-wouldn’t hesitate to do it out of pride, you know.”

Silence. You froze in place. So did she.

“Do it then,” she whispered, leaning in even closer and closing her eyes.

Your lips touched. You could only assume she stared into the blackness of her closed eyes as you did, hearing nothing but the rushing of blood ringing in your ears as you did.

“Lia,” you whispered, lips grazing hers, “are you–”

“Yes,” she replied.

A single, silent beat. And then, you caved.

You leaned in, hard. The pressure of your mouths ebbed and tided as you let your lips glide over each other rhythmically. With every second, you poured out all that started welling up in your chest – years of tension, all the held hands, all the shed tears, all the raised heartbeats.

But Lia pushed even harder than you. Her hands ran up the back of your head, wanting to keep you there. One slid down to your chest, toying with the fabric of your shirt – and the idea of pulling you in closer, as if she could any further.

Your makeout quickened and slowed at will. You surfaced for air in turns. By the peak of it, Lia straddled you, your bodies warm and rubbing on each other to its own tempo. You now noticed she had leggings on, feeling all the warmth of her core grind against your own groin, stretching the fabric of your joggers. Lia moaned in your mouth as her movements climbed in intensity, still maintaining the silence of the hall.

You grabbed Lia’s hoodie by its thick collar, and pushed her away quietly.

“W-we can’t stay here.” Lia nodded.

You tiptoed together up the stairs. The rooms were laid out like units, one on each side. You took the one at the end, Lia took the one between the empty room in front of yours and Ryujin’s. Lia walked to yours, opening the door, but you cautioned to not close it right away. You opened Lia’s door and closed it, then walked over to your room.

“‘Night, girls,” you called out.

“Goodnight!,” you heard in cacophony from the bottom floor. It seemed Ryujin and Minjeong (who shared your row) were asleep.

You walked over to your room and closed the door, finding Lia sat on the edge of the bed. You kept walking, your feet pacing on the floor lightly and carefully, trying to not sound like two pairs of feet scuttling about in your room.

You reached Lia, lying down with her legs hung over the edge, and crawled on all fours over her.

“Lia,” you breathed, “this is crazy.”

She just nodded.

You lifted her hoodie slowly, revealing a solitary plain sports bra underneath. It’s one you’ve seen many times by now, yet one that kept your chest burning.

You let out a breathy chuckle. Lia looked at you confused.

“Are you sure of this?”

“No,” she said hastily. “I don’t know. Maybe. I– I’m doing this now before I start overthinking. While I still can.” She pulled you closer. “What I know is I want this.”

She unclasped her sports bra, but left it on her, the straps twisted round her neck and waiting to be undone. You lifted it off her until her chest was bare, two soft, pillowy handfuls that sat on her chest nicely.

You grabbed her waist, thumbs running down the very edges of her abdomen, tracing along her ribs. She shivered at the coldness of your touch, but grabbed your wrists as they reached the waistband of her leggings.

“I– I’m not safe,” she said, “it’s not that time of the month, but I’m not safe.”

“That certainly explains it,” you chuckled, pulling the rest of her leggings and panties down until she was fully naked.

Lia landed a light slap on your chest, pulling you in by your nape for another makeout session. “Don’t be so sure of yourself,” she retorted.

“Am I wrong? You literally started calling me oppa again.” You cupped her face with a hand. “The last time you resorted to that was the first time I met–”

Lia pulled you to the side, both of you now on the bed. “Shut up and take me, oppa.” She pulled you in and wrapped herself around you, arms around your torso and your neck, leg around yours until they were intertwined. She ran them all over your back and into your hair as her lips wrapped yours in trails of spit.

It was clear Lia was not letting go of you until you did something, anything to her. You weren’t about to deny that request.

You pushed her away and shimmied her up to the pillow right by the headboard, the white fabric still neatly pressed until Lia’s head broke its pristine condition.

Then you lifted Lia’s legs up on your shoulders.

You could feel the musk of her wetness cloud your nose and mouth, and without question you dove in. Lia yelped – almost a bit too loudly – and she cupped both her hands over her mouth. With her arousal thoroughly muffled, you kept at it, flicking your tongue side to side on the swollen nub right above the deepest part of her core.

You could taste the sharp, metallic tang on your tongue, and an unforgettable stench of sweat from her pits. Your head was hot that your scalp itched; a few minutes opening your jaw agape made it cramp; your neck began to go numb from her limp weight on your shoulders. All in all, not the most pleasant experience for you.

Except it was Lia. None of that mattered – only her.

“Fuhh, Liuh,” you muffled into her. She moaned in arousal.

“Fuck, keep saying my name, fuck, please,” she squealed.

“You’re fucking delicious, Lia,” you gasped, surfacing from her pussy and diving back in for more. You could feel the cocktail of spit and slick start dribbling down your chest from around her buttcheeks. Her hands groped and clawed wildly at the sheets, seeking some anchor for her undoing when she wasn’t trying to silence herself. It was clear you were absolutely wrecking her.

“Keep– keep going– oppa!,” she screamed into her forearm, now almost fully bitten as she attempted to mute her rising climax.

“Cum for me, Jisu-ya,” you growled. “I want you to cum all over my face.”

“Fuu–” was all Lia could manage before arching her back to its maximum. You could feel by the fingers that ran across her soft abdomen that her torso crunched with all the bare muscle she had. Your lips and mouth were coated with a fresh dousing of pure erotic agony, like all the unresolved emotions had suddenly poured out of every orifice in her body: thirsty saliva, sticky sweat, salty tears, and a healthy dose of grool that webbed over her reddened lips.

You twitched. Throbbed. Ached, begging for your own climax. God, you wanted to take her wide-open hole and ram your manhood in it, not even hesitating a second against the hole being your best friend’s.

Then Lia’s hands shot for your joggers, pulling it off in one frantic motion. Your cock sprang out of your boxers, almost painfully as the head grazed against your underwear.

“Ah, shit, Lia–”

It was too late. She had turned herself over on her belly, sucking your cock with unprecedented speed – just the right pace to build your own orgasm in an instant.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, ohhh fuck, Lia, shit–” you blubbered as she kept going at it sloppily. Spit dribbled off the sides of her mouth, forming long strands that ran down her chin and into the sheets. Her eyes were reddened, both from the repeated gagging of your tip against the back of her throat and the absolutely catastrophic orgasm she just had. But the fire was in her eyes, and she wanted your cum on her, or in her, or just to be hers and only hers.

She let go of you and started stroking, turning herself over onto her back, upside down. “Fuck my face, oppa.”

You throbbed again at the demand. Had she gone insane? Had you driven her insane? Was your cock the one that broke her so? You hadn’t even come up with an answer yet when you felt her lips wrap against your tip.

You clasped onto her jawline, holding her head steady like it were some compartmentalized version of her pussy – or perhaps from the ecstasy of her warm, wet mouth – and drilled the hell out of it.

Lia choked. She gagged and coughed. But she moaned – oh, how her moans, the satisfied gurgling and laughing urged you to keep at it.

“You’re fucking mine, Jisu-ya, fuck,” you groaned with your jaw aching from the tightest clenching you could do, holding back your already blooming climax.

“Pliiiiih,” she gurgled more, the only words she could muster with your dick in her mouth and her brain. “My faehhh, pliiih…”

“Your face, baby?” Her eyes rolled as she managed a weak, but evident, nod.

A few more pumps and you let go of her head. She turned over as you stroked fast, her gloopy spit the perfect lubrication for your ejaculation.

“Please, oppa,” she begged, tears almost welling in her eyes again. “I want it sooo bad…”

You growled with gritted teeth as you let go, one long rope after another. You could feel it jettison out of your shaft with force; past your shut eyes you could see it streak across her eyelashes, her lips, even up to her hairline. When you were done, collapsing on your knees, she had been absolutely coated with a thick layer of your seed.

She licked up all she could, still overwhelmed. She could barely swallow any, gagging to a point of retching. Her eyes fluttered like she was about to pass out

“Lia, f-fuck,” you huffed. “Calm down. Don’t– let’s wash up, please.”

You mustered all you could to stand up and urge her to get to the bathroom. You’d only carried her when you were sober; the fatigue from your orgasm was going to challenge all the cardio you had left in you. But still, you decided you had to – partly out of post-nut panic, mostly out of post-nut aftercare kicking in.

You carried her, body partly limp, in your arms. Your feet trudged against the floor in heavy thuds; you’ll worry about that another day. You finally reached the blinding white light of the wash closet, sat her on the toilet and grabbed the nearest towel, washing it under the faucet. You scooped up your handiwork – all the load, drool, and dried tears – with the damp fabric, until her face came to be more recognizable and dignified.

Your chest leapt; she still looked so goddamn beautiful you wanted to kiss her.

She fluttered her eyes open with a faint smile, and it melted your heart even more. Now you didn’t hesitate as you dove into her lips, gently this time. You cupped her head into your hands, and you could taste the saltiness of her saliva; you gagged upon your realization.

Lia simply laughed. You laughed with her.

You kissed her on the forehead before washing the towel again and wiping her down from neck to toe.

It almost felt like a full inspection, a microscopic analysis of her body. You could see the ridges of lean muscle and impressed bone etched against different parts of her body; you felt kissed every smooth inch you wiped, including her feet.

“You’re turning me on again, oppa,” she sighed, spreading her legs open.

You wiped her lower lips thoroughly until it was now merely moistened with water; it looked like it ached, her walls glistening and wanting more of you. Unceremoniously, you closed her legs.

“Lia,” you warned, “you shouldn’t tire yourself out. We have skiing tomorrow.”

Lia sighed, halfway between resignation and irritation. When you stood up, your cock was a bit too close to her face while seated, and she teasingly blew at it. You felt ashamed by the involuntary twitch. “Lia,” you said more sternly, sounding a bit closer to your manager voice, and that woke Lia up a bit.

You led her out of the bathroom and sat her by the bed, gathering her clothes off the floor. You both put on your clothes before sitting by the edge of the bed, side by side, hands clasped around each other’s.

You looked at each other; no words were exchanged, yet you shared a singular thought. And you both smiled. She leaned her head on your shoulder again.

Lia suddenly chuckled to herself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she sighed. “Just… a hunch.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked at you with beady eyes. “If Yeji and Jimin asked you for a threesome right now, would you say yes?”

The question jolted you awake. Your chest thumped.

“I– Lia, we literally just–”

“Yes or no, oppa,” she pointed at your face.

“Y-n-nooo?,” you attempted to respond. Lia slapped your cheek, not seriously, but still sharply enough to tell she felt the insult.

“Liar,” she scowled. “I know you. You find all of them cute in some way, don’t you?”

You stayed silent as you argued with yourself.

Look, you’re barely the oldest among a temporary household of nine unquestioningly hot women. Those nine women – Lia right by your side occupying the top of the list – have all verbally expressed some form of admiration of you. The only thing keeping your hot shit fever in check was that none have made some comment on your physical appearance or acted on that admiration, save for Lia (hence her top spot). Otherwise?

“Jisu-ya,” you laughed. “Do you expect me to say no?”

“The possessive part of me says yes,” she humphed. “The… friend part of me says no.” You flourished to cap your point.

“In the first place, you’re assuming they do like me,” you raised an eyebrow. “And that they’d make a move.”

Lia looked at you with a different scowl.

“What?”

“Oppa,” she sighed as she crawled into your bed, “you have no idea.”

“Lia,” you frowned.

“Oppaaa,” she patted the empty space on the bed, calling you to lie down.

“Lia, you can’t–”

“I’ll wake up early and move to my room,” she rolled her eyes, before whining insistently. You relented and joined her, wrapping your bodies together again into a warm pretzel of limbs sans the sex.

Lia sighed into your chest. “Oppa.”

“Jisu-ya.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”

“Even if they flirt with you?”

“Nope.”

“Even if they’re hotter?”

“I’ll have enjoyed you the most.”

She chuckled. “Good answer.”

Silence again.

“Are you seriously telling me that if they–”

“Shush,” she silenced. “I’m looking the other way. Starting now.”

“You’re facing me right now though,” you chuckled.

“I’ll bite you.”

“Okay, okay,” you surrendered, patting her hair. The last thing you remembered before you fell asleep was a single kiss on her forehead.

You’ll ponder on everything tomorrow.

YUNA

guys…

YUNA

manager-nim is like

YUNA

really cute

YIZHUO

same

CHAERYEONG

same

CHAERYEONG

and he was so nice to talk to

MINJEONG

omg you guys

MINJEONG

(same)

AERI

whose phone isn’t muted??

AERI

mute it or lia-unnie might hear us chatting

AERI

unless you want manager-nim to go to your room and put you to sleep

AERI

who said that!

JIMIN

bet he’s asleep already lol

CHAERYEONG

how can you tell??

RYUJIN

he is

RYUJIN

manager-nim snores so loudly

RYUJIN

i can’t sleep

YEJI

maybe you should go to him and tell him

YEJI

or shut his mouth for him

YEJI

however you want to

MINJEONG

yooo

JIMIN

hahaha so rude

JIMIN

would

YEJI

hahaha

YEJI

go to sleep girls

YEJI

long day tomorrow

Ryujin closed her phone and curled into a ball on her side. Her breath was racing, unsteady; her cheeks and face flushed hot and red. But there was no pain, no discomfort or illness that afflicted her.

She bit her lips together and forced her eyes shut, resisting the urge to bring her hands away from the tucked position she was trying to keep them in – to run them elsewhere, all over, to tantalizingly warm spots on her.

She couldn’t.