Homecoming

☾︎✿︎☽︎

“The number you’ve dialled is not available at the moment. Please try again later.”

Zoey let out an exasperated growl at the automated voicemail.

“Where is she?”

The arrival hall was a symphony of chaos—a chorus of crying toddlers, the percussive clatter of suitcase wheels, and the frustrated, staticky announcements about misplaced baggage. Zoey sat hunched over, her elbow propped on her bouncing knee and her teeth chewing at her thumb.

It had been two hours since they landed in LA.

Her phone screen lit up, casting a blue glow on her tired, anxious face.

No new messages.

“Maybe her chariot turned back into a pumpkin,” Abby mused from the floor. He was cross-legged, phone propped against his carry-on as he watched the fourth TikTok dance video he shot in the last hour.

Zoey scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, right. Next, you’re going to say, ‘she was probably kidnapped by some guy who’s straight out of a BookTok dark romance novel.’”

“I mean….”

Zoey looked up, unimpressed. “Really?”

“Hey! BookTok girlies are insane. I’ve read Twisted Love and Fifty Shades of Grey, and I can confidently say—the standard of men is in the trenches,” he said.

Zoey groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Abby, focus. My best friend — who swore on our friendship bracelet she’d be here — is currently MIA in a city that’s a thirty-to-forty-minute drive without traffic, and forty-five minutes to an hour with traffic.” She sighed. “I just hope she hasn’t told my parents I’m coming home.”

Abby looked at her and arched an eyebrow. “You haven’t told your parents?”

Zoey winced, rubbing the nape of her neck and avoiding his gaze. “I wanted it to be a surprise?”

That was a lie. And Abby knew it.

“Zoey.”

She froze mid-neck rub, her shoulders tensing at his sharp tone when he called her by her full name.

“What?” she said in a small voice, finally meeting his gaze.

“You’re doing that neck rubbing thing when you’re lying or hiding something,” he replied.

“My neck is sore.”

“Bullshit. You roll your neck or ask for a massage whenever your neck hurts.”

Zoey’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. She stared at her sneakers—bright white against the scuffed airport floor. “I was going to tell them the week before…” She admitted quietly. “But I kinda chickened out."

Abby softened, scooting closer on his suitcase. “How come?”

“I dunno.” She sighed. “Imagine your daughter — who hasn’t spoken to you properly in two years — suddenly texting that she’s coming home after four. They’re gonna ask questions about where I’ve been and why I’ve lost touch with them. And I’m not ready to answer any of that.”

“Is it because you don’t have the answers, or you’re worried about your parents not liking your answers?” he asked.

There was a pause.

“Maybe both?” she answered.

Abby nodded slowly, tapping his fingers against his knee. "Okay. So worst case scenario—we walk into your childhood home like two undercover agents on a doomed mission." He flashed a lopsided grin. "I'll distract them with my devastating charm while you ninja-roll upstairs to burn all incriminating evidence."

Zoey snorted despite herself. "You are so dramatic."

“What can I say? I bring, I bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma,” he sang, earning a shoulder shove from Zoey.

“You are so corny for quoting songs.”

“You take that back. Drama is a certified banger, and you know it. Red-haired Winter still lives rent-free in my head!”

Zoey rolled her eyes. "Didn't realise you were such a hardcore MY."

Abby gave her the look. It was the type of look he always had when he was about to go on a sassy and passionate tirade. "I’ll have you know that I am a very cultured human being with flawless taste in music. Not that you’d know.”

Zoey let out an audible gasp like he had personally attacked her. “Excuse you! Not only am I a rising underground rapper, I also wrote and produced music for Rumi Kang, who, by the way, is pop royalty,” she playfully jabbed at his chest. “On top of that, I introduced you to half of the groups you stan. So, my taste in music is far superior by default.”

Abby threw his hands in surrender and said nothing, but the smirk never left his lips.

“Yeah, that’s what the hell I thought,” Zoey said, staring him up and down before switching on her phone.

Still no messages. She groaned, exasperated.

“We could call an Uber,” Abby proposed.

Zoey made a face. “Well... I’d rather not have my wallet fight for its life. Taking the bus is also a no-go coz the buses here are a fucking nightmare. So, I’m kinda at an impasse here.”

Before Abby could respond, a familiar, warm voice cut through the terminal din. “Well, look what the 14-hour flight dragged in.”

The duo turned, and before them was a short, pudgy middle-aged man approaching them, dressed in a pair of cargo shorts, a safari hat and a shirt with palm leaves print on it.

Zoey’s eyes widened. “Bobby?”

“In the flesh,” his grin grew wider, opening his arms as she jumped in them to embrace.

“No way,” Abby grinned, springing to his feet and joining in on the hug.  “What are you doing on this side of the planet, man?”

“Vacation mostly,” Bobby said, his eyes crinkling. “I may be Seoul’s greatest manager, but I deserve a much-needed rest and get away from the constant phone call and PR nightmares. Oh, and did you know that your friend Gigi is getting married soon? I’ve been invited to the wedding.”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “Wait, seriously?”

“How do you know her?” Abby asked.

“Well, I know her through Zoey, obviously. She actually came to visit South Korea a while back and she was… pleasant to say the least,” Bobby explained. “But I didn’t get the invite from her. I actually got it from the groom. His cousin’s an old friend. Small world, huh?”

“Yeah… small world indeed,” Zoey nodded, still astonished.

“What about you two? I don’t suppose you’re hear for a family visit, are you?” Bobby asked, giving a Zoey a knowing but wary look.

"Zo’s also here for the wedding. She’s the maid of honour and I'm her dashingly handsome plus one," Abby slung his arm over her shoulder.

Bobby took one look at them and burst out laughing—deep, belly-shaking guffaws that made his safari hat tilt dangerously. "Oh-ho-ho! This I gotta hear!" He wiped a tear from his eye. "Last time I checked, you two were strictly ‘platonic spaghetti’—your words, not mine."

Zoey immediately shoved Abby’s arm off her shoulders with an exasperated huff. "Which we still are. But somebody," she shot Abby a glare, "decided to volunteer as tribute for plus one and fake boyfriend duties."

Abby clutched his chest, feigning hurt. “Wow. God forbid I willingly offer my fake boyfriend services, free of charge by the way, to avoid the ‘why are you still single and at twenty-three' questions—"

“You are just on a roll exposing me, huh?” Zoey’s eyebrow twitched with annoyance.

“But yeah, we’ve been waiting for the bride-to-be to come pick us up and drive us to Burbank,” Abby finished. “For the past two hours.”

“Ooof,” Bobby winced and sucked his teeth. “That’s quite the pickle you’re in. Did you try calling her?”

“I have been, but still nothing from her,” Zoey shrugged her shoulders, defeated.

“Hey! Since you’re here for basically the same reason as us, why don’t we ride with you to Burbank?” Abby proposed.

“I would, but unfortunately, I’m spending most of my time here in LA before heading over to Burbank for the wedding,” Bobby gave them a sad smile.

“Oh,” they both replied in unison.

“But I can give you guys some extra cash for your Uber,” Bobby offered enthusiastically. “How does that sound?”

Zoey’s face lit up, and a relieved smile graced her tired expression. “That’s more than I can ask for,” she pulled him into a hug. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“No problem. I’m always here to help with anything,” He smiled as he pulled out the wad of cash, placing it in her hand and closing it. “And I do mean anything.”

He turned to Abby. “Lee Woojin. A word?”

Abby raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, using my full name suddenly. Am I in trouble?” he chuckled, taken aback.

“Not unless you’re looking for it.” Bobby pulled him towards the vending machine, ensuring they were out of Zoey’s earshot.

Once he was sure they were alone, his tone grew serious. “I’m guessing you’re aware of her situation?”

Abby blinked. “Yeah, I am. Why?”

Bobby nodded once, tightening his jaw. “Then you know she’s not okay.”

At first, Abby was silent, then he laughed it off. “What are you talking about? Of course, she’s okay. This is Zoey we’re talking about. She’s a tough girl.”

“Yes, and that’s the problem,” Bobby stressed, his expression becoming graver. “Zoey hides what she really feels until she crashes and burns, and her Shutdown last year is proof of that.”

Abby swallowed nervously.

“Listen, you’re a good kid, and I will forever be grateful for what you did to get through to her when she shut everyone out,” Bobby said. “She needs someone in her corner.”

Abby huffed, almost getting defensive. “She’s my best friend. She knows I have her back and I will always care about her.”

“I’m not asking if you care for her. I know you do. I’m asking if you can handle her. All of her. Even the parts she tries to hide.”

Abby’s breath hitched. For the first time, he didn’t have a quick comeback.

“Abby! Gigi’s here!” Zoey’s voice broke the tense silence between them.

Bobby finally smiled warmly at him, placing his hand on Abby’s broad shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Enjoy your time here.”

☾︎✿︎☽︎

"Gigi!" Zoey exclaimed joyfully, jumping to hug the woman who, despite being flustered and clutching her phone like a lifeline, still managed to look effortlessly chic in a simple sundress. The familiar scent of Gigi's perfume—a blend of vanilla and salt air—washed over Zoey like a fond memory, even as Gigi immediately began speaking a mile a minute.

"I'm sorry, can I call you back?" Gigi spoke in a sweet voice before hanging up, then let out an exasperated sigh. "Z, I know you're happy to see me, but I'd very much appreciate it if you didn't crinkle my custom-tailored dress."

"Sorry, sorry," Zoey quickly pulled away. "It's been a while, and I've missed you so much."

"Yes, yes," she quickly waved her off. "Where's that boyfriend of yours? The sooner we leave, the better. The 405 was a nightmare."

"Were you stuck in traffic?" Zoey asked.

"Nope, just saving Taylor Swift from another meltdown after seeing her fiancé watch Kayla Nicole's Halloween video," she replied, the familiar, biting sarcasm making Zoey's smile tighten.

Classic Gigi—sarcasm being her go-to defence, weapon, and default communication style. People often call her mean or stuck up; Gigi always shrugs and says, "It's called honesty. Your hurt feelings are your problem, not mine."

Some things never change.

"You could have told me," Zoey said. "I've been calling ever since I landed, but you weren't picking up."

"I was busy talking to the vendors on my way here. I couldn't get through a single productive conversation with you blowing up my phone every five minutes. So, I blocked you."

Zoey blinked, surprised, feeling her throat tighten and her chest ache. She blocked me?

"Then you could have texted me at least—"

"Oh my gosh! I'm here, aren't I? I came all the way when I could have been focusing on my wedding, and this is the thanks I get?" she snapped.

Her tone cut sharper than Zoey expected, and Zoey flinched before falling quiet.

Gigi sighed, composing herself. "Is your boyfriend with you or not? I don't have all day."

"Uh, yeah... he's around here," Zoey looked around, despite her mind still recovering from Gigi's lashing.

She was able to see him standing with Bobby by the vending machine.

"Abby! Gigi's here!"

She watched Bobby smile warmly at him, placing his hand on Abby's broad shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. He said something to him and left right after.

Zoey waved at him to come over as soon as he turned and met her gaze. Abby waved back and jogged over in their direction.

"What were you two talking about over there?" she asked.

"Oh, you know. The 'You better not hurt my precious baby girl if you know what's good for you' speech," he said, putting on his best dad voice, which made Zoey roll her eyes.

"Who's this?" Gigi's voice interrupted their banter.

With a smooth smile, Abby offered a theatrical little bow.

"I'm Zoey Kim's dashingly handsome plus one, Lee Woojin. Some call me Abel. Friends call me Abby." He winked. "I'll let you decide which one I earn."

Gigi stared at him blankly before her attention snapped back to Zoey like a whip. "I thought you were bringing that off-brand emo dog of yours as your plus one."

"Hey! Myungho is not a dog!" Zoey retaliated defensively.

"He growled at me, saying that I 'gave off bad vibes', when I came over to South Korea—" Gigi took a sharp breath in. "Anyway, what happened? You two were practically inseparable."

Zoey felt the heat rise to her cheeks. "It's... complicated."

"Oh." The single syllable was flat. Gigi's head tilted, feigning curiosity. "So, he dumped you."

The air words lingered in the air, sharp and definitive. Abby’s smile instantly dropped, and he shot a quick ‘wellness check’ look over at Zoey. Zoey’s throat tightened as she grasped the handle of her suitcase, the plastic grip digging into her palm. She should have gotten used to Gigi's bluntness and those little jabs by now. Gigi's been doing this since middle school. But she wasn’t.

“We should go,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “The traffic’s going to be a nightmare.”

"Finally! We've wasted enough time standing around," Gigi said, letting out a relieved groan as she turned on her heel. "Chop-chop. We're having dinner at my place."

As she led the way, her posture impossibly straight, Zoey risked a glance at Abby. His eyes were wide, his lips pressed into a thin line. He mouthed a single, silent word.

Wow.

Yeah. Homecoming.

☾︎✿︎☽︎

The car ride was a capsule of strained silence, broken only by the hum of the engine and the soft pop radio station Gigi had on. The infamous LA traffic had, miraculously, begun to thin, but the atmosphere inside the car remained thick and heavy. Gigi was behind the wheel, staring up ahead with a bored expression. Abby sprawled across the backseat like he owned it.

Zoey stared out the passenger window, watching the familiar palm trees and strip malls blur past. It was a weird feeling coming back after four years. This was home, her entire life was just forty minutes away, but she felt so… disconnected. Like she was in an unfamiliar city in a foreign country.

Abby, uncomfortable with silence for more than ten consecutive seconds, finally cleared his throat dramatically.

“So, Gigi,” he began, leaning forward between the two front seats. “The car handles are great. Smooth ride.”

“It’s a rental,” she replied flatly, her eyes glued to the road.

“Right. Well, it’s a… very clean rental.”

More silence, heavier than before.

Okay. New plan.

“Zoey mentioned you two have been friends forever. That’s really cool.”

Gigi’s eyes flicked to him in the rearview mirror. “Yeah. Which is why I’m a little confused. She never mentioned a ‘Lee Woojin’ or an Abel before. How exactly did you two meet? You’re not her usual type.”

Zoey tensed, her knuckles whitening where they rested on her knee.

Abby feigned an offended gasp. “Excuse me? I’m everyone’s type.”

“Well… compared to her previous boyfriend, you’re… an improvement,” she commented. “So, what’s the story?”

“We met through Mira back in Uni,” Abby answered smoothly, throwing an arm over the back of Zoey’s seat.

“The snarky one?” Gigi asked, arching an eyebrow. “You and Zoey have questionable tastes in friends.”

“Well… you’re not exactly wrong. She’s friends with you after all,” Abby replied, the bite underlying in his casual tone.

Gigi made a full head turn, shooting an icy glare at Abby’s smug look.

“Excuse me?” Her tone was sharp.

“Anyways,” Abby sing-sang. “Zoey was a freshman at the time, while I was a sophomore. We bonded over music, movies and TV. And that’s how we became soulmates. The End.”

“Uh-huh,” Gigi said, her tone implying she found them anything but impressive. “So, what happened with your ex, then? I thought he was the love of her life.”

Zoey spoke before Abby could, her voice tight. “It was mutual. We just… wanted different things.”

Gigi let out a short, dismissive laugh. “Really? ‘Mutual’? Because knowing how much of a mess you can be, Z, I can’t say I blame him for jumping ship. Especially after that dramatic depression phase of yours last year."

The words hung in the air, cruel and deliberate.

Abby’s easygoing smile didn’t slip, but his voice gained a subtle, steely edge. “Myungho’s a good friend of mine. He wouldn’t dump her for something like that.”

Gigi’s eyebrow arched, a smirk playing on her lips as she glanced from Abby to Zoey. “Wow, passing yourself around your friend group? Damn, Z. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Abby narrowed his eyes slightly. He wanted to say something, but knowing Zoey, he realised she didn’t want to be caught between two people she cared about fighting. So, he decided to drop it. “Okay. Changing the subject,” he said, his tone forcibly light again. “So, you two. History. Give me the origin story. How does a Zoey Kim and a Gigi…?”

“Our dads were friends long before we were born,” Zoey explained, grateful for the diversion. “We basically grew up together.”

“Yeah, we were together through kindergarten to high school, where we met Caleb Dela Cruz,” Gigi added, a note of pride entering her voice for the first time. “The three of us were inseparable back then.”

Abby froze. The name seemed to short-circuit his brain. He leaned so far forward that he was practically in the front seat. “Wait. Caleb Dela Cruz?! As in, the next Michael Jordan in the NBA, just signed a two-hundred-million-dollar contract, Caleb Dela Cruz?!”

Gigi preened, her earlier irritation vanishing. “That’s the one. He’s my fiancé.”

Abby fell back into his seat with a dramatic thud, then immediately launched forward again to point an accusing finger at Zoey. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH THE GOAT BEFORE HE BECAME THE GOAT?!”

Zoey rolled her eyes, a real, if weary, smile finally touching her lips. “You never asked.”

“Never asked?!” Abby sputtered, running a hand through his raspberry hair. “Zoey, we’re on our way to meet NBA royalty! This is like… like finding out your best friend is childhood pals with Beyoncé and JUST NEVER BOTHERED TO MENTION IT!” He grabbed her by the jacket and shook her.

“Geez,” Zoey laughed, pushing him off. “I didn’t know you were such a fanboy.”

“Duh! He’s one of my favourite players! The man averaged a triple-double in his rookie season, and have you seen the charity work he did for kids in Manila AND the Black Lives Matter Movement? He’s not just an athlete; he’s a saint with a killer crossover!”

“Dude, relax. He’s just a guy. Not the second coming of Jesus.”

Gigi let out a sharp, genuine cackle. “Can you blame him? Caleb always had that charm. He was quite the catch in high school.” She shot a sly, knowing look at Zoey. “And Zoey here? Not innocent. She had the biggest crush on him—painfully obvious.”

Abby’s head whipped toward Zoey, his eyes wide with scandalised delight. “You had a crush on him?!”

Zoey’s face flamed a brilliant crimson. “It was a long time ago! Way before they started dating!”

Abby switched his gaze back to Gigi, his excited fanboy look changing to one of genuine, playful scepticism. “Hol’ up. Why would you knowingly date your best friend’s crush? Ain’t that against Girl Code or something?”

Gigi raised an eyebrow, locking eyes with him in the rearview mirror. “Ain’t it against the Bro Code to date your friend’s ex?”

Abby paused.

Let it sink in.

Then let out a low chuckle.

“Okay, you got me there. But the difference is,” he said, his tone light but with an underlying seriousness, “I didn’t go behind my friend’s back and knowingly date their crush. And definitely not brag about it afterwards.”

Silence. The air in the car suddenly became suffocating. Gigi’s grip on the steering wheel tightened to the point her knuckles turned white as she clenched her jaw. Abby was seated in the back, the smug smirk not leaving his face. And Zoey? She wanted the car seat to swallow her whole, slip through the drainpipes, and disappear from the mortal world entirely.

“Okay!” Zoey cut in, her voice a little too high, her hands held up in a placating gesture. “How about we play some music? Abby, pick a song. Any song. Just… fill the silence.”

“Even baby shark?” he asked, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Yes! Even that!” Zoey said through clenched teeth.