The girls discuss weekend plans

The dressing room was a sanctuary of sorts, though sanctuary in its most ironic form. Its walls were pale and unadorned, the harsh fluorescence of the overhead lights doing nothing to soften the sharp lines of the chairs or the spartan vanity mirrors. It smelled faintly of powder, synthetic hairspray, and lukewarm coffee—all of it mingling into a scent that was neither pleasant nor entirely offensive. Haeun sat at the edge of the narrow table, where two trays had been set out with almost theatrical precision, Eunseo's empty tray having been removed as she left for her turn before the camera.

Lunch was a spectacle of austerity: thin slices of chicken breast, steamed broccoli that had surrendered its color, and a smattering of brown rice. It was food in its most utilitarian form, devoid of joy or indulgence, designed for nothing but sustenance. The company insisted upon it, their bodies under strict scrutiny for any weight gain, even if Haeun could feel her ribcage press tightly against her skin.

Mina stabbed a piece of broccoli with mock ferocity, sighing as she leaned back into her chair. “Honestly, I’ve seen grasshoppers eat better meals than this.” Her voice, bright and loud despite their surroundings, managed to puncture some of the quiet gloom in the room. “At least their leaves are still green.”

Haeun smiled faintly, using her chopsticks to push a sliver of chicken around her tray. Mina was her usual self—a **** of irrepressible light, upbeat and talkative, as if taking every moment of silence as a personal slight at her.

“Any plans for the break?” Mina asked between bites, her mouth full enough despite her complaints over the food.

“Plans?” Haeun repeated, feigning a mild disinterest as she brought a morsel of rice to her lips.

Mina rolled her eyes, ever the detective when it came to teasing secrets from those around her. “Don’t act like you haven’t been counting down the days. Eunseo says you’ve been staring at the calendar like a prisoner on parole.”

Haeun laughed, soft and breathy, setting her chopsticks down. “I have been counting,” she admitted, the corners of her lips quirking up. “It's been a while since I last saw him.”

“Him,” Mina interjected, her eyes narrowing playfully as she leaned forward on her elbows, wholly abandoning her tragic lunch. “The elusive boyfriend. The one that I let you show my pussy to, but still haven't shared with me like you promised? "

“I didn’t promise I’d share him,” Haeun said, smiling slyly.

“You implied it,” Mina countered, wagging her chopsticks with theatrical accusation. “You don’t get to dangle something that juicy in front of us and then snatch it away.”

“There’s nothing juicy about it.”

“Oh, there must be.” Mina’s grin widened as she settled back into her chair. "Why else would you keep him around when you have Jihoon panting after you like a puppy?”

Haeun shook her head, hiding her smile as she picked at her tray again, but the warmth had lingered. Mina had a way of making wild requests with such affectionate swagger that it became difficult to refuse. They lapsed into easy conversation then, with Mina launching into her own plans for the weekend—a visit to her parents, something she did not appear to be looking forward to.

“I love my parents,” Mina groaned, dragging out the word love as though it were heavy on her tongue. “But the rest of my family? My aunts are going to hound me about my ‘life choices’—as if singing and dancing are somehow inferior to sitting in an office for twelve hours a day. My uncles will corner me to talk about lending them money for investments, and my cousins will make me sign stuff that they resell online. Every time! It's more tiring than practice, honestly."

“You could hide in your room,” Haeun offered, a weak attempt at consolation.

“I tried that last time. My mom dragged me out with the threat of sending all my old school photos to the newspapers.”

Haeun laughed, a genuine peal of joy that came from within her belly, and Mina joined her.

The dressing room door swung open abruptly, revealing Eunseo, still dressed in the heavy winter wear she was modelling. "Your turn, Mina," she said, unbuttoning her coat with deft fingers as she stepped into the room.

Mina let out an exaggerated moan, tilting her head back to gaze at the ceiling with theatrical despair. “Don’t remind me,” she muttered, gathering herself before standing and making her way to the exit.

"Good luck," Haeun called as she left, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

Eunseo sat across the table from her, already on her phone, far more comfortable with silence than the blonde girl, and Haeun let her thoughts drift towards the weekend. Towards him. She could see it now—the weekend unfolding in her mind. Perhaps they would walk together, hand in hand, through the anonymity of small streets. They would talk about nothing of consequence, or perhaps not talk at all, letting silence settle between them as they simply enjoyed the pleasures of existing in the same space.

She felt a flutter of anticipation in her chest, a kind of giddiness that was foreign in her sterile everyday life. And yet, beneath that anticipation lay something more complicated. A whisper of guilt, perhaps, or an echo of uncertainty. It would be the first time they meet face to face since their argument after all. What if they find their love faded, replaced by the reality of two people who no longer know one another?

She realized with a start she had been staring at Eunseo, who was returning her gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"I know that look," the older girl said, her posture straight and elegant as always. "I've seen it on the face of every boy I had ever broken up with."

Haeun blinked and laughed—a little too forcefully. "What? Don’t be silly." But her voice betrayed a slight waver, and Eunseo’s eyebrow arched even higher, a perfect crescent of skepticism.

"You're afraid of him leaving you, aren't you? And you are thinking about all the ways you can avoid it, as though you can go back in time and fix whatever it is that drove you apart."

Haeun didn't reply, her eyes falling to her half-empty food tray.

"If you want my advice, it's that its okay to lose people sometimes." Eunseo continued. "Even those who have loved you for a very long time. Even a couple that made no mistakes can still fall out of love. That's life. Don't let old memories control your future, is what I'm trying to say." She shrugged and then added with a sly smile, "Of course, I'm just a lonely old woman without a man. So what would I know?"

"You're 22, Eunseo."

"Exactly! Practically an ajumma already!"

Haeun giggled, the tension in her shoulders dissipating slightly. She knew Eunseo was right, in her blunt and direct way, but it wasn't as simple as that. It never was. And yet, there was solace in these conversations, these shared moments that brought them closer, sisters in spirit if not in blood.

The door soon swung open again, Mina returned with a flourish, pulling at her comically large sweater to emphasize its ill-fitting size. “What's wrong with this thing? It has more room than our apartment!"