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A soft but insistent knock drew Minju’s attention away from the book she was reading. “Come in,” she called, sighing internally. She so rarely had a minute to herself these days, and so this evening—with both Hyunjin and Seulmin somewhere else—was a luxury. But no, someone had to come knocking and disturb her peace and quiet.
Then, Yonghwa’s wide-eyed face poked through the door, followed quickly by the rest of her. She shut the door quickly but softly and then leaned her back against it, palms pressed flat against the wood as if she were afraid the door would open back up if she didn’t hold it shut.
Minju raised an eyebrow. “Yonghwa, come sit down. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Yonghwa nodded and padded softly over toward Minju’s bed. She sat carefully, as if trying not to make any noise, and inhaled a shaky breath.
Minju looked her over. Nothing seemed to be amiss physically—Yonghwa looked decently hydrated, she wasn’t pale or sweating, and her balance seemed as graceful and effortless as ever. No new bruises, either, and if she was favoring any of her limbs, Minju couldn’t tell. Yonghwa’s posture held none of the stiffness it usually did when her back was hurting. So, after half a minute of silence, Minju asked. “Are you okay?”
“Yes!” Yonghwa said…or rather, squeaked. Her voice was pitched much higher than normal.
“Uh huh,” Minju said skeptically. “Tell unnie what’s wrong.”
“I, uh,” Yonghwa stuttered for a second, looking down at her hands. “Look, unnie, I don’t know who else to go to with this, but I really need to ask someone for help, and you won’t tell anyone, will you? Please?” She looked back up at Minju. Her eyes were still wide, and up close, there was something close to panic in them.
“As long as nobody’s in danger, your secrets are safe with me,” Minju promised.
Yonghwa nodded, much longer and more aggressively than the situation seemed to warrant. She took a deep breath, and started speaking. “I was cold, so I wanted to get one of my hoodies, so I went into Chanmi-unnie’s and Chaebin-unnie’s and my room, and I, um, I saw Chanmi-unnie.” Her eyes flicked nervously toward Minju, then toward the door, then back down to her own hands.
When no other information seemed to be forthcoming, Minju nodded slowly. “That does tend to happen when you’re roommates, and you go into your shared room.”
Yonghwa’s ears turned pink. “Well, yes,” she said. “But, unnie, I don’t think she realized I’d come in, because I don’t think she’d have been…doing what she was doing, if she knew.”
“What was she doing?” Minju asked patiently.
“She was—” Yonghwa paused. The pink flush now covered her entire face. “I don’t know the Korean word for it.”
Interesting. It had been a while since that had happened. With Chanmi’s and Seulmin’s help, Yonghwa was basically fluent in Korean these days. “Describe it to me,” Minju said.
Yonghwa covered her face in her hands. “Unnie was…well, she wasn’t wearing any clothes. Which is normal and whatever, sure, but…her hands were, uh, between her legs. You know?” The words came out in a muffled whisper.
Oh. Minju giggled. “Our poor sweet innocent Yonghwa,” she cooed. “Walking in on her leader-unnie having fun in bed.”
“Don’t make fun of me, unnie,” Yonghwa begged. “I’m so embarrassed!”
Minju put an arm around the younger girl’s shoulders. “Shhh, it’s okay,” she said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s no need for you to be embarrassed. If anything, Chanmi-unnie should be embarrassed for forgetting to lock the door.”
“I just never thought she would do something like that,” Yonghwa whispered. “I mean, I would never, but I know she’s not religious, so she probably doesn’t see it as a sin, but…I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s the stress or something, but I couldn’t imagine any of us even being tempted to do something like that.”
Oh, right. Yonghwa’s catholicism probably made this more intense for her than it would’ve been for Minju if she’d been the one to walk in on Chanmi. Minju wondered briefly how she’d react in the same situation. She’d probably just laugh, slap Chanmi’s butt if she could, and then leave. Or maybe she’d…whatever, this wasn’t about that. “I think it’s different for you and me,” Minju said. “You haven’t had your period in a while, have you?”
“No, unnie,” Yonghwa said, a line appearing between her brows. “Not for months. But what does that have to do with anything?”
“They put you and me on really strict diets,” reminded Minju. “Neither of us is anywhere close to a healthy weight or body fat percentage. That messes with our hormones, makes us lose our periods, decreases our libido, that sort of thing.” She grimaced, running a hand through her hair and holding up the chestnut brown strands that came out on her fingers. “It is also making me lose my hair. I swear I’m gonna be bald before our next comeback.”
“But Chanmi-unnie had a strict diet too,” said Yonghwa. “She and Chaebin-unnie had to eat all that dry protein for months. Chaebinnie cried the day they were allowed to eat rice again.”
“Well, yeah,” Minju said. “But they were getting nourished, like with enough calories and macronutrients and stuff, so their hormones are a lot more balanced than ours are. I’d bet my left eye that neither of them have lost their periods. And evidently, they’re not struggling in the libido department. Or at least Chanmi-unnie isn’t.”
“Oh.” Yonghwa looked down at her hands again. She frowned. “Should we be concerned? About the diets they’re making us go on?”
“Absolutely yes,” said Minju firmly. “There’s no way this is good for us in the long term. But it’s not like we have another option right now, so at this point, I’m just glad we’re back on solids.”
“Mhm.” Yonghwa wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m still cold, but I, uh…I don’t want to go back into our room yet. Could I borrow one of your hoodies, unnie?”
“Sure,” Minju said, walking to her closet. She handed a soft pink hoodie to Yonghwa, who moved to stand and leave but hesitated at the door.
“Go ahead and ask,” Minju said with a sigh. “There’s a question on your face. Tell unnie what it is.”
Yonghwa bit her lip. “It’s just…with Chanmi-unnie…how do I make sure I don’t see her doing that again? I don’t want to tell her I saw, but it feels like I did something wrong by seeing her when she didn’t know I was there. And I feel all weird about it, and…” she trailed off, eyes growing unfocused, then shook her head forcefully. “I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”
Minju smiled. Yonghwa was always so thoughtful, so considerate. Here she was, freaking out, probably a little bit traumatized by what she’d seen, and she was worried about Chanmi being uncomfortable. “If I were you,” Minju said, “I wouldn’t mention it to her. She’s protective over you, you know? I mean, she’s protective of all of us, but.” Minju gestured vaguely. “I think Chanmi-unnie would feel really guilty if she knew what had happened. Like, more guilty than is appropriate.”
Yonghwa nodded thoughtfully.
“Also, you always walk really quietly,” Minju added. “She definitely didn’t hear you approaching. So my other piece of advice would be to knock if the door’s closed. Even if it’s your own room.” She thought for a moment. “Especially if it’s your own room.”
Yonghwa swallowed, grimacing. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll definitely do that in the future.”
“And don’t judge unnie too harshly, okay?” Minju continued. “Her situation is different from ours. She probably needs to do that occasionally to keep herself from going crazy.”
“I’ll try not to,” Yonghwa said. Her face turned pink again. “Is it bad that I wish she’d wear clothes more often? I just know that every time she doesn’t, it’s going to remind me of…that.”
“Makes perfect sense,” Minju said, trying to suppress a laugh. “You’ll be fine. You’ll get used to it again.”
“Okay,” Yonghwa said, opening the door. She seemed all too ready to get away from this conversation. “Thanks, Minju-unnie. And thank you for letting me borrow your hoodie!” She scurried out of the room on silent feet…neglecting to close the door.
Minju sighed and stood to close it.
She couldn’t blame Yonghwa. It had taken the younger girl a while to adjust to nudity in shared spaces when she first came to Korea. Apparently that wasn’t such a common thing in Australia, and it had been an acute case of culture shock. Given that, something like this was bound to make Yonghwa a little wild around the eyes. Plus, Chanmi really should’ve been more careful. Seeing her leader in that state wouldn’t have bothered Minju, but imagine if it had been, say, Jeongyeon. Yeah, this could’ve been much worse.
Minju thought for a minute, then went and knocked on Chanmi’s door. Loudly. She waited for Chanmi to invite her in before opening the door and poking her head through.
“Hey, Minju-yah,” Chanmi said. She was seated at her desk, hair in a messy bun, working on a track at her laptop. The only thing she wore was a pair of headphones.
“Hi, unnie,” Minju said. “That outfit looks good on you.”
Chanmi laughed, which did interesting things to the contours of her torso. “Thank you.” She pulled her headphones off. “What’s up?”
Minju smirked. “Nothing, now. Ten minutes ago, however…” she let the words hang.
Chanmi turned bright red from the roots of her hair to the tips of her…toes. “Oh my gosh.”
“Yeah.”
Chanmi covered her eyes with one hand, groaning. “I’m so sorry. I was trying so hard to be quiet, please forget you heard anything.”
Minju laughed. “It’s no big deal, unnie. I personally don’t care. But let’s just say I’m glad Jeongyeon’s still at vocal lessons.”
Chanmi’s hand dropped. Her expression grew stricken, and the blood drained from her face. “Is anyone else here?”
“I don’t think so,” Minju said, technically not lying. Yonghwa had left by now. “You were lucky this time.”
Chanmi blew out a breath. “Thank goodness. I’ll be more careful in the future. Sorry again for…anything you heard.”
“Like I said, no big deal,” Minju replied. She grinned wickedly. “But I reserve the right to tease you about this when there aren’t any maknaes around to traumatize.”
“Oh, no, can you not? This is the most humiliating moment of my life.”
Minju was extremely glad Chanmi didn’t know about Yonghwa’s involvement in this situation. She was perfectly content to keep it that way. “You sound like Hyunjinnie,” she said with a giggle. “But, okay, if it bothers you that much, I guess I won’t tease you.”
“Thank you,” Chanmi said, sounding relieved. Her eyes were nearly as wide as Yonghwa’s had been when she first came to Minju’s room.
“Sure,” Minju said. “I’ll let you get back to whatever that is.” She gestured at Chanmi’s computer screen, turned, and (politely) shut the door before going back to her own room.
When she was alone again, Minju could admit to herself what she’d been ignoring this whole time. She was jealous of Yonghwa. Getting to see Chanmi like that, probably flushed and panting, eyes shut, wrapped up in her own pleasure…Minju shivered. She’d never really gotten over her crush on her leader. She’d tried—after that night when they’d almost kissed, Minju had resigned herself to the fact that Chanmi was simply married to her work. But her efforts had been futile. Chanmi was wonderful, and Minju’s heart couldn’t simply ignore that. Not when she saw just how wonderful Chanmi was each and every day. And the older woman’s allergy to clothing definitely didn’t help matters. And now with these new mental pictures provided thanks to Yonghwa…
Minju attempted to shake her brain like an etch-a-sketch to dispel the images. It had never worked before, but that was no reason not to keep trying. Her brain unhelpfully supplied that if Chanmi’s libido was healthy, Chaebin’s probably was too, and oh. Chaebin had been so cute, vehemently denying the idea that she could be attracted to women, back when Minju pointed out the younger woman’s obvious crush on Chanmi. Her crush was less obvious these days, but Minju didn’t think it had fully gone away.
What if Chaebin had been the one to enter the shared dorm, instead of Yonghwa? Minju bit down on a laugh. Well, for one thing, Chaebin wouldn’t have been as stealthy about it as Yonghwa. She’d have screamed loud enough to wake the dead, probably, and fallen all over herself in her haste to get away and pretend that hadn’t just happened. Unless…well, they were roommates. (Omg they were roommates!) Had Chaebin and Chanmi been hooking up? It would make sense. And it would be really hot, the least rational part of Minju’s brain added. Heat began coiling low in her abdomen, the sensation dulled by her imbalanced hormones but not fully muted. Chaebin wore more clothes than Chanmi did, as a rule, but living in such close quarters meant that no one could be fully modest all the time. Which meant it was perfectly easy for Minju to picture the three of them together and…
No. Minju took a series of deep, calming breaths to expel the images from her mind. Chanmi was too responsible for that, too dedicated to being a good leader, especially at this point in their careers. And Chaebin was probably still in denial. Thinking about her friends this way wasn’t practical or productive. And even if the two of them were in any kind of physical relationship, that didn’t necessarily mean they’d want Minju to be a part of it. The thought stung a bit, but it was the kind of sting she was used to. Minju didn’t expect to be able to have any “more than friends” relationship until she retired from idol life—she had chosen to be content with a decade of singleness and celibacy if it would let her pursue this dream. There would be plenty of life left when she retired—plenty of time to find her wife and move someplace where they could legally marry (though hopefully not someplace that would force her to learn a new language. Why couldn’t the world just learn Korean? Everything would be much simpler that way), and they could live out their days in a house full of sunlight and cats.
But she had years to go before that happened. And she was going to make the most of these years—she would throw herself into performing, and if she felt any particular way about Chaebin or Chanmi, she could appreciate them silently from the sidelines, and that would be enough.
For a time, anyway.