Chapter Text
It’s their last stop in TWICE’s 3-city United States tour and though this past week has been just as demanding and time-constrained as every one of the group’s promotional engagements, Momo feels lighter than usual, mood buoyed by the excitement of visiting an entirely new country, across the world from the continent in which she was born and raised. She nudges a napping Nayeon, waking the girl up when their plane’s descent reveals a sprawling, gleaming city built smack in the middle of an extensive desert, now illuminated by the early dawn.
“Can all our flights be as short as this one?” Nayeon peers out Momo’s window and then yawns, stretching her arms above her luxuriously and almost hitting Jihyo, seated on the row’s aisle seat. “I had no idea Los Angeles and Las Vegas were so close.”
Momo surveys the surrounding seats and her bandmates’ arrangements—Dahuyn, Sana, and Tzuyu in the row behind them; Chaeyoung, Mina, and Jeongyeon in the row in front of them—and smiles contently. There is no other group of people she would rather fly across the world with. “And yet you still had time to fall asleep on me and drool on my shirt,” Momo retorts with a huff while examining the sleeve of her cardigan, only to yelp when an indignant Nayeon slaps her arm. “Jihyo, did you see this act of violence?”
Jihyo watches the two bickering members with a fond, amused smile that almost makes Momo forget that they’re both older than her. “Nayeon, please remember we need Momo in one piece for our show this afternoon.” Cockily, Momo raises a self-satisfied eyebrow to Nayeon, until Jihyo amends, “you can beat her up after the show.”
While Nayeon and Jihyo veer off into a conversation about the aforementioned show, Momo catches sight of an unopened croissant resting temptingly atop Mina’s tray. She leans forward and notices that Chaeyoung is soundly asleep on Mina’s shoulder while Mina herself carries on a murmured conversation with Jeongyeon, who is seated at the window and is pointing to the scenery below them.
Momo taps Mina on the arm and, caring not to wake Chaeyoung, she whispers, “Mitang, are you planning on eating your bread?”
At the sight of Momo’s toothy grin and realizing the predictability of her request, Mina chuckles, all easy charm and warmth. “Here. All yours.” Momo accepts the croissant gratefully and then takes an exaggerated bite from it that makes Mina laugh and consequently wakes Chaeyoung.
“Hey, maybe I was going to eat that,” Jeongyeon complains half-heartedly as Mina closes her tray and the plane begins to land, going on to add, “Momo, can you give me some of it?” Her whining request prompts a possessive Momo to lick the entirety of the remaining piece, claiming it for herself in a way that sparks a round of disgusted laughter from everyone around them.
Nayeon decides to join the conversation by extending a friendly hand to massage Mina’s shoulder while turning to Momo to scold, “you already stole my peanuts and Jihyo’s cookies and now you’re taking Mina’s food, too? Jihyo, Momo the Food Thief has just convinced Mina to give up her croissant. Are we going to do anything about this?”
Mina and Jeongyeon burst into laughter, Chaeyoung is now munching on a sandwich provided by Jihyo, and Momo is throwing a blanket over her own head in an attempt to hide from Nayeon.
“It’s okay, Nayeon unnie; I wasn’t going to finish it,” Momo hears Mina’s muffled response just as the plane speakers broadcast the pilot’s welcoming to Las Vegas.
“Mina, stop covering for Momo. You let her get away with everything.”
As Momo emerges from her blanket fortress and is instantly flicked on the forehead by a disapproving Nayeon, she nonetheless exchanges a conspiratorial wink with Mina, who seems to be wordlessly reassuring Momo that she’s on her side against Nayeon. Momo smiles back in appreciation, and then is immediately interrupted by loud groans from both Jeongyeon and Nayeon.
“There they go again,” Jeongyeon mutters, as Dahuyn, Sana, and Tzuyu join them curiously, crowding the narrow aisle. “Mina and Momo are doing that thing where they talk without talking.”
To Momo’s surprise, every other member begins to nod in agreement, offering grumbled variations of “yeah, it’s so annoying,” and “have you ever been in the middle of them when they start? It’s awful,” and “I thought it was a Japanese thing but Sana said she doesn’t understand it, either.”
A clearly entertained Mina is smiling at their firm consensus, and Momo is about to respond to this senseless accusation in some way—no, Mina and her don’t talk without talking; how is that even possible; everyone is imagining things—but then Jihyo brings them all back into focus as she stands and sweeps her gentle, encouraging gaze across every member’s face. “Okay, TWICE. Last show in this country. Let’s finish strong.”
-
In their home turf of East Asia, TWICE has packed stadiums and outdoor arenas, and each time they’ve surpassed their own attendance records, Momo has always been overwhelmed by the enormity of their luck and the scope of their success. Tonight, however, their medium-sized, sold-out venue in Las Vegas is more intimate. Instead of a daunting mass of people, Momo catches individual faces of joy and star-struck expressions, and hears shouted singing and ecstatic cheers. Upon the conclusion of their encore number, Momo and her eight bandmates step off the stage and are thoroughly enveloped by the roaring, wall-shaking ovation of the crowd. And as they allow themselves a minute to indulge in this uniquely satisfying moment, Momo is consumed by a mix of happiness and disbelief, the still-pumping adrenaline not quite letting her feel exhausted yet.
Jihyo ushers them into a tighter circle as they all hold hands; Mina and Tzuyu stand at Momo’s sides, and she shares an elated smile with both.
“Good job, TWICE. We did it.”
-
Under normal circumstances, each member of their group would be tiredly preparing for sleep after concluding an hours-long concert. Tonight, fueled by the lingering excitement of their successful performance, the urgency of having a very short 10 hours before their flight back to Seoul in the next morning, and their own curiosity to know this infamous city, all nine girls collectively decide to forego sleep in favor of exploring Las Vegas.
They are spending the night in the same casino resort inside which they’ve just performed so all 9 girls quickly congregate in the room Jihyo is sharing with Tzuyu and Mina and are then immersed in a collective effort to develop a plan that will convince their manager to allow them to wander Las Vegas without their security team. In Asia, such a plan would be absolutely ludicrous; they haven’t been able to step outside their dorm without bodyguards in about two years. But in America they can enjoy some anonymity, and so, Jihyo and Nayeon—impressively businesslike and determined—leave the other 7 girls behind to meet with their manager and head of security, returning 10 minutes later with smug, triumphant grins that immediately prompt every squealing member to crush them underneath excited hugs.
Each girl showers and changes into tourism-appropriate attire before receiving a thorough briefing on their approved plan. Momo stands sandwiched between Dahyun and Mina as Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Jihyo strategize on which Las Vegas landmarks they’ll have time to hit, more enthusiastic than usual after learning that true to the city’s fame, everything is apparently open 24 hours a day, ensuring closing times are not a concern. Various members shout out suggestions—“that huge lion statue!” and “that fountain thing that plays music!” and “that pyramid casino thing with the sphinx!” and “that casino where Celine Dion always sings and where that guy from the movie got lost!”—and Momo hears a low, timid voice beside her comment something about a sea life exhibit in their hotel and Momo concludes in the span of approximately 1 second that, one, the voice was Mina’s; two, no one heard it but her; and three, no one will want to go to an aquarium when they’re in Las Vegas.
Jihyo, ever the responsible leader, mandates that no one spend a single second in the city unaccompanied by at least one other member, and then whips out individual copies of a city map in order to label, color-code, and circle each group’s itinerary as everyone’s preferred tourism spots are indicated: Nayeon, Jeongyeon, Dahyun, and Sana will visit Caesar’s Palace, the Bellagio, and the Paris-themed casino, while Chaeyoung, Jihyo, and Tzuyu will head to the MGM, the New York-themed casino, and the Luxor. An expectant Jihyo turns to both Mina and Momo with a raised eyebrow, silently urging them to pick an excursion group.
It’s not that Momo isn’t enticed to tag along with either one of the itineraries—all those themed casinos sound amazing—but she’s well-aware that Mina has never been particularly fond of crowds, and that she would also rather crawl into a cave than ask someone to change their plans for her. And the thought of Mina pushing aside her desire to visit an aquarium for the sake of everyone else settles a heavy, uncomfortable weight inside her chest, and unthinkingly, Momo blurts out, before Mina has a chance to offer any response on her end, “I want to go to that aquarium place with Mina, the one we saw in the lobby.” A surprised Mina swivels to face her, just as every other girl registers some degree of surprise, and Momo squirms a bit because this is so unlike her; it must be painfully obvious that this isn’t a typical idea she’d have.
“The shark reef exhibit downstairs?” Jihyo inquires curiously; “Mina, do you want to go to that with Momo?”
Every other girl in the group appears to be in some stage of either laughing or frowning—or both—and it’s Nayeon who quips first, “Mina, let go of the gun you must be pointing behind Momo’s back to make her say she wants to go to an aquarium.”
“I didn’t even tell her I wanted to go to that,” Mina protests weakly, but joins in the laughter with some embarrassment when Sana comments cheekily, “that croissant you gave Momo must have been spectacular.”
“Momoring, we don’t have to go to that,” Mina murmurs to her discreetly, but Jihyo is already labeling all the maps with Mina’s and Momo’s colors to indicate where they’ll be, so Momo figures that even if she were to second-guess herself now, it’s too late to change her mind.
“It’s fine,” Momo assures her, smiling with more confidence than she feels. TWICE is a tight-knit group and she and Mina have always been close—two lead dancers, both Japanese—but lately it’s becoming more apparent that in the past few months, they have gravitated towards members whose temperaments more closely match their own; Mina with Tzuyu and Jihyo, and Momo with Dahyun, Sana, and Nayeon. Going off somewhere on their own feels like something they would have done last year. “It’ll be fun.”
Jihyo reminds them of their return time—2am, at the latest—and their hotel room assignments, and then they’re off.
-
In what Momo can only assume is Mina’s way of showing her appreciation, the girl takes them to a luxurious snack bar—whose decoration is vaguely Asian-reminiscent but whose menu appears to be geographically scattered—immediately upon their descent to the hotel’s ground level, offering to buy Momo anything she would like from the expensive selection.
“I’m not hungry,” Momo lies as they stand in front of the large menu propped at the restaurant’s entrance, hoping to dissuade the girl from making this a bigger deal than it is. “We can just go to the aquarium; it’s okay.” But Mina is shy and reaching out to hold her hand, her shoulder-length hair partially covering her face but not completely concealing a light blush on her cheeks.
“Momo, I know you wanted to go with the other girls to the casinos,” Mina states with understanding, “but you came here with me instead, so let me buy you something good to eat.” The girl reads Momo more quickly than Momo can read her—before Momo can reject her offer again, Mina asks instead, “if I buy something for myself, will you share with me?”
And Momo finds herself unable to say no again, unable to give her any negative response when the girl is so earnest and kind and intent on doing this simple thing—Mina, being Mina. So Momo nods her assent and five minutes later, Mina is feeding her pieces of a hefty fruit crepe while they make their way to the aquarium.
“What does your fortune cookie say?” Momo asks through a mouthful of strawberry and bananas, removing her own cookie from its plastic wrapping.
Mina holds her fortune in front of her for inspection. “It says… 'you will be hungry again in an hour,’ so I think we switched cookies,” she jokes, turning her attention to Momo’s reading of her own strip of paper.
“‘Love is choice and timing.’ Why did I get the corny one? We really did switch cookies.” She laughs when Mina nudges her with her elbow in half-hearted affront.
It’s a relatively short walk even with their leisurely pace, and silences with Mina are never awkward—indeed, it’s one of her best qualities, that she’s always been introverted and thoughtful, so no one is ever made to feel uncomfortable when she doesn’t speak much—but they’re engrossed in conversation so Momo doesn’t notice the time passing as they alternate Korean and Japanese in the criss-crossed hybrid language they created with Sana.
As they approach the aquarium’s entrance, they talk about their concert experiences in the United States, and how loudly the crowds tend to cheer.
“I’ve read that it’s a cultural thing,” Mina explains, noticing with some mild dismay a trail of chocolate syrup that has melted from her spoon down to her hand, “that American culture encourages expressions of emotion and that kind of stuff. So Americans tend to be more outgoing for that reason.”
Momo’s eyes flicker to Mina’s tongue darting out to lick the syrup from one of her fingers and remembers that Mina was born in Texas and chuckles, teasing with a nudge, “Americans are more outgoing? I guess you’re a defective one. We should all get a refund.”
Her chuckle blooms into laughter when Mina blushingly scowls and threatens to eat the rest of the crepe by herself.
As they enter an impressively long and dim glass tunnel through which they can watch various species of colorful fish and rays, they talk about the other places they’d like to visit, and when they agree that France would be their next destination of choice, Momo declares with a grin that it would be “for the food,” while Mina simultaneously comments, “for the history,” and then they both halt in the middle of the moderately-empty walkway to gape at one another.
The moment is a lot like an old western stand-off; Mina shoots off “the Louvre” while Momo shoots back, “baguettes and fondue” and then Momo’s stern countenance melts away at Mina’s mild horror at her response, and she can’t help it then but laugh and pull Mina into a hug because Mina is Mina and Momo really hopes she never changes.
While they stare into a tank inside which they spot octopi, sea horses, and crabs, they discuss the choreography for their next comeback single, Heart Shaker, delving into the technicalities of the movements and the optimal transitions and pacing. Momo ponders idly that Mina, more than anyone else in TWICE, has the widest gap between who she is in her everyday demeanor and personality, and who she becomes whenever they are performing. Momo recognizes how her own outgoing nature enables her to inhabit the sensual quality of her dancing style quite easily, Nayeon and Sana flirt with their audience as though they are 50% human and 50% seduction, and everyone else’s stage persona closely follows who they are in real life. Except Mina.
The Mina in front of her, who is most in her element when removed from any sort of attention, and whose bright, inquisitive gaze is following the swimming trail of a nearby seahorse, is the same Mina who’s embodied, side-by-side with Momo, the kind of provocative choreography that has managed to entice just about the entirety of East Asia, only to comfortably revert right back into an unassuming introvert once the music fades off. And Momo understands and appreciates this, that she and Mina are diametrically opposed in many ways, but both grew up shaped by their dance dreams and this is where they feel most at home; this is where they’ve planted their feet and their freedom.
They agree that one of the seahorses appears to be dancing in pace with Heart Shaker so Momo pulls out her phone and her headphones, offering one of the earbuds to Mina, and begins to play the song to confirm their suspicions. And then Mina chuckles that the seahorse’s movements are particularly fluid, which means that it must be the Momo of the ocean version of TWICE.
They continue to explore the aquarium and Momo picks up excerpts of Mina’s concurrent commentary on the science behind seafloor mapping, averting her face at times to contain the urge to tell Mina what a huge nerd she is. And when Momo notices the deep blue swatches of light that swim across Mina’s features to reveal what every other member of TWICE has always known—that Mina really has no bad angles—she notes the occasional looks thrown their way, and how some of the attention is targeted at her, but a lot of it goes to Mina.
When Mina’s gaze is lost amid a breathtaking exhibit of jellyfish, Momo disguises a satisfied smile by turning her attention to a souvenir shop, from which she purchases a small penguin-shaped fork with her last 5 dollar bill.
When she rejoins Mina, the girl has taken a seat on a bench facing the expansive glass panel, and as Momo takes the spot next to her, she extends the gift with a grin. “For our penguin.”
To her surprise, Mina holds out a small gift-wrapped object as well. “I’m glad you were distracted getting that; I wanted to buy you this without you seeing.” Momo is impressed by her slyness, and as the gift-wrapping is torn away, she grins after catching sight of a hilariously-oversized aquarium-themed shirt. “They didn’t have your size; I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Momo assures, warmed by Mina’s bashfulness. “I’ve been wanting a shirt-shaped blanket.”
Momo beckons Mina closer with a small motion of her chin, and when Mina slides towards her on the bench, she wraps her newly-gifted shirt around their shoulders. And as they turn their attention back to the tank before them, Momo shares her headphone earbuds again and plays them another song.
-
On their way back, Momo spots the casino lobby—gambling appliances and card tables stretching as far as their eyes can see—and impulsively suggests that they try their luck in a slot machine.
Mina picks a machine that might as well be an actual video game, given the lights and controls and points system, and manages to win them $5 on a $1 bet. The stool-like seat makes it so Momo has to sit on Mina’s lap to play her turn, and a strange sort of exhilaration washes over her when she scores another point and Mina happily squeezes her into a hug.
They’re surprised—shocked, even—when a casino hostess provides them with a complimentary pair of fruity-scented shots. Mina and Momo are old enough to drink in South Korea, and indeed, have drunk alcoholic beverages before—in small amounts, perhaps twice in their entire lives, and only with the rest of the girls as a carefree celebration after winning some big award—but the drinks in front of them look unfamiliar and they’re about 100% sure that only Momo, technically, can legally drink in America.
It’s her natural impulsiveness, exacerbated by the thrill of gambling, or the excitement of being in a larger-than-life city, or just the elation of sharing this new place and this new experience with the girl with whom she’s shared every major moment of the last 3 years—it’s a combination of all these factors that drive Momo to raise her shot, winking eyebrow daring a wide-eyed Mina to do the same, and drink it in a single burning gulp.
“How does it taste?” Mina inquires curiously, laughing at Momo’s instantaneous wince.
“Terrible,” she answers bluntly, joining her in laughter. “Now drink yours.”
Mina adjusts on their seat, one of her arms still idly resting around Momo’s waist, and follows suit, grimacing at the aftertaste.
“It didn’t smell as bad as it tasted,” she comments with displeasure, and a mellow Momo laughs again, appreciating the warmth from the alcohol and the warmth from Mina’s proximity.
“We already won $10 from that $1 you put in,” Momo observes, watching scattered passersby and noticing their varying nationalities, dress styles, and expressions. “I think you’re good luck, Mitang.” There’s a low hum of music and pieces of conversation surrounding them, but the universe is quiet, mostly, save for Mina’s voice.
Sometimes Momo thrives on high-level energy and on playing pranks and the frenzy of activity that all comprise her friendships with Chaeyoung, Dahyun, Sana, and Jihyo. Sometimes she craves the sarcasm and biting humor of Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Tzuyu. And sometimes she likes the calm that surrounds Mina, the sort of peacefulness that is reassuring and relaxing and allows Momo to hear her own thoughts, to notice her own heartbeats.
“I think it’s you, honestly,” Mina counters in a murmur, leaning forward to rest her body against Momo’s back. “I never win anything. If it was just me, I would have lost that dollar on the first try.”
Momo smiles to herself at Mina’s reliably self-deprecating response, then pulls the machine’s lever down and settles back into the easy comfort of Mina’s embrace, watching the screen’s colorful glow display various shifting animals, jewels, and fruits.
It might be the alcohol, finally seeping into her bloodstream. Or it might be exhaustion from their earlier concert, finally settling into her bones. Or, she thinks fleetingly, in a flash of recognition that’s gone as quickly as it arrived, that it might be Mina and her soft voice and her comforting warmth and that faint scent of jasmine that envelops them now. It might be any of these things, or perhaps all of them put together. They might be why Momo accepts another shot from the hostess a few minutes later, and another shot after that, and then wakes up six hours later and cannot remember anything that happened after she smiled at Mina and pulled that lever.
-
It’s a whirlwind, the events that follow that evening.
When a loud and obnoxious alarm blares her awake, Momo finds herself sprawled onto a hotel bed that she’s absolutely sure is not hers, because she was supposed to share a room with Chaeyoung and Sana, and it’s Jihyo and Tzuyu—Mina’s hotel roommates—who are surrounding her, finishing their packing.
She means to commence her own packing in her assigned room, but a combination of throbbing headache, churning stomach, and ton-heavy limbs seems to pin her down onto the bed, and for a fleeting moment Momo wonders whether she’s dizzy or is in fact seeing her life flashing before her eyes.
“Morning, Momo,” Jihyo greets after a yawn—the sound of her voice is a lot like a sledgehammer perforating Momo’s forehead so instinctively she reaches for a pillow and wraps it around her head. “You and Mina got here super, super late and were also super, super drunk, so I should kill you two, but at least you’re alive—which is, um, uplifting news considering Mina was throwing up this morning.”
That last tidbit information jars Momo’s senses, jolting her muscles with alarm, and she immediately flings the pillow aside to face Jihyo. “Where is she?” she mumbles worriedly, voice scratchy from disuse.
“Mina unnie is showering,” Tzuyu replies with a grunt, engaged in an attempt to close her luggage that doesn’t appear too promising.
“Are you going to shower, too? We have about twenty minutes,” Jihyo informs helpfully.
Momo groans her assent, standing up from the bed unsteadily and heading to the bathroom. Just as she’s approached the doorway, Mina steps out wrapped in a towel, refreshed and clean but also pallid and woozy, apparently about a hundred times worse off in her hangover than Momo is.
“This is it. This is death, Momo,” Mina murmurs, tone dark and miserable, wincing and raising a hand to her temple. “I think my stomach is being turned inside out.”
Momo nods sadly, commiserating. “We must have consumed our body weight in alcohol.” She places a sympathetic hand on the girl’s shoulder, and, despite the pounding inside her skull and the haze blurring her memories, she still smiles. “We’re such light-weights, Mitang.”
-
Exhaustion—and, in some cases, the lingering effects of hangovers—knocks the girls into a deep slumber on their flight back home. By the time they land in Seoul, it’s the morning of the next day and Momo finds Chaeyoung unconscious on her lap and Sana in open-mouthed sleep on her shoulder. The incoming sunlight from the plane window is merciless and Momo feels as though her brain is bleeding, so she averts her eyes to the side, noticing Mina’s haggard appearance (part hangover, and part jet lag) while the girl is talking to Nayeon.
Most girls slip back into sleep on the drive back to the dorm from the airport, and Momo has to summon every ounce of her remaining strength to unpack her luggage once they have arrived in their rooms, as every member of TWICE has to send their worn outfits to JYP’s styling branch promptly for cleaning.
While unfolding a rumpled ball of clothes, she finds both the aquarium shirt Mina bought her—the memory of that is dishearteningly murky—and a pair of completely unfamiliar gaudy plastic circular items, which fall from the bundle with a low patter against the floor. Momo flinches with a reminder of her persistent headache when she bends down to retrieve the fallen objects, then holds them for examination on the palm of her hand.
They’re cheaply made and in colors that aren’t particularly appealing—a sort of neon pink and green—and Momo turns them over a few times, wondering silently; are these rings? Whose are they? How did they end up in her luggage?
There’s a joke to be told about Las Vegas marriages officiated by an Elvis impersonator inside a shabbily-decorated chapel, and Momo wishes her diminished mental capacity would allow her to tell it to a drained Jeongyeon beside her, but she tiredly throws the items back into her jacket pocket instead, and joins Jeongyeon in complaining about their lack of sleep.
-
It all happens at once, as though the universe were snapping into a state of turmoil the second all 9 girls step into the kitchen to discuss the schedule for the day.
Jihyo begins to read off their e-mailed instructions from their band laptop, but barely manages to utter more than a few words. “Okay, so Jeongyeon and I have hair appointments; Nayeon and Tzuyu, you have recording for two hours; Mina and Momo, the choreography unnie asked to see you—”
Right then, every phone begins to ring and brighten simultaneously, causing a small explosion of sound inside the small space. No one moves to answer their calls, as they have agreed before not to use personal phones during these briefings, but the sheer volume of concurrent calls is alarming and every girl exchanges uneasy glances; meanwhile, Chaeyoung pulls the laptop to her own corner of the kitchen island and begins to type briskly.
“Um… my mom is calling me…?” Dahyun notes, and promptly receives anxious nods from other girls, all in agreement that their family members are attempting to reach them.
Momo, for her part, notices that her phone in particular is receiving multiple calls; her parents, various friends, and even JYPE’s Legal Office.
“Mina, is that Headquarters calling you?” Jeongyeon inquires apprehensively while peeking at Mina’s cellphone, just as all girls receive a text message blast commanding, ‘DO NOT SPEAK TO ANY MEMBERS OR REPRESENTATIVES OF MEDIA OUTLETS. DO NOT COMMUNICATE WITH FAMILY MEMBERS OR FRIENDS. MANDATORY 24-HOUR LOCKDOWN.”
“What the h—” Nayeon mutters, interrupted by another text blast.
‘HIRAI MOMO AND MYOUI MINA—REPORT TO JYPE HEADQUARTERS. DO NOT SPEAK TO ANY MEMBERS OR REPRESENTATIVES OF MEDIA OUTLETS. DO NOT COMMUNICATE WITH FAMILY MEMBERS OR FRIENDS. PICK-UP VEHICLE EN ROUTE. ETA 30 MINUTES.’
Instantly, Momo’s eyes snap to Mina’s, whose entire expression is perplexed and appalled. “What… why are they... why do we…” Momo stutters.
It’s Chaeyoung’s bewildered voice that breaks their tense reverie. “Um... Mina unnie, Momo unnie... did you...” Her disorientation seems to have knocked the breath from her lungs; her eyes bounce furiously from her laptop screen to Mina and Momo, and back to the screen. “Did you… get… married…?”
Reactions from all girls are instant—there are some gasps and raised eyebrows and even a “what the fu—” that is interrupted when Momo and Mina are prompted to respond.
Momo’s frown is so rapid and pronounced that it literally hurts her facial muscles. “Huh? What do you mean, did we get married?”
Mina, in turn, is completely flabbergasted, matching her level of disbelief with every other member of TWICE. “Chaeyoung, is that a joke?” Mina demands in a tone that manages to be both soft and polite while carrying what can only be called deep horror.
“It’s what the media is saying—there are all these reports in every website that you got married in Las Vegas to Momo—”
Momo would laugh at this allegation had they not received the text from JYPE; TWICE has been the subject of some very salacious headlines before, but this one truly takes the cake.
“Chae, we’re on lockdown; you can’t be on the internet,” Jihyo reminds urgently.
“It’s okay; I hid our IP address,” the young girl responds in a rush, “and hold on while I Google this more... I’m going to pull up the original outlet that’s reporting this...”
Momo’s gaze turns to Mina then, who is glued to her own stool, even paler than usual, clenching and unclenching her jaw with tension. Every other girl in the kitchen is holding her breath, seemingly in a state of suspended animation.
“I thought foreigners couldn’t even get married in the US…” a confused Dahyun begins, slowly trailing off when everyone seems to simultaneously remember that Mina is, in fact, an American citizen.
In response, Mina lets out a pained groan and proceeds to bury her face in her hands.
“There’s no way this is true,” Nayeon asserts firmly. “This has to be just another scandalous headline; some gossip rag baiting for clicks.”
“Why would Headquarters send that text blast, though?” Jihyo queries uneasily.
Their discussion is halted when Chaeyoung looks up from her laptop with the widest-eyed panic Momo has ever witnessed outside of a horror movie. “Um… I think it’s true. There’s a tabloid in the US saying they have a screenshot of your marriage license.”
Nayeon and Jihyo apparently stop breathing, Dahyun grabs Tzuyu’s arm for support as though she were about to faint, and Mina’s face pales so dramatically that Momo is momentarily more worried about her current welfare, and the possibility that her soul is going to leave her body, than with the marriage mess.
Sana and Jeongyeon rush to join Chaeyoung behind the computer screen while everyone else seems to be debating leaving Mina and Momo’s sides.
“Chae, load this supposed marriage license picture,” Sana urges, to which Jeongyeon shakes her head nervously, responding, “it says she has to join their newsletter—oh, she’s doing it right now.”
The sight of Mina’s blurry eyes, welled with unshed tears, stirs something odd inside Momo’s chest, something heavy and bothersome that she can’t control, an impulse to take some kind of action that will fix this for Mina. “Maybe it’s fake,” Momo proposes, well-aware of how desperately she’s grasping for some alternative to a scenario that could not be more horrifyingly inconvenient. “People photoshop things all the time. How hard is it to copy-paste our names into some marriage certificate template?”
“Okay, we’re loading the article right n—” Chaeyoung says, before her, Sana, and Jeongyeon’s features morph into complete and utter shock; in the span of less than a second, they catch a glimpse of something on the screen and abruptly slam the laptop shut so quickly and forcefully that it almost breaks the device, causing every startled bandmember to jolt back in sync.
“Um…” Jeongyeon mutters breathlessly and with palpable discomfort, “yeah, it looks like it really happened.”
“Yep,” Sana agrees weakly, sharing an enormously embarrassed cringe with Chaeyoung. “There’s, um… this American tabloid has something else. Besides the marriage certificate.”
The generalized commotion in the kitchen abruptly settles into a pulsing, deafening silence in response to Sana’s statement.
“Don’t tell me they adopted a child,” Jihyo begins panickedly, while Nayeon is the one who shoots up from her stool to ask with horror, “did they make a sex tape?”
Mina instantly swivels to Nayeon, looking at her as though she’s grown a second head.
“No, neither of those things,” Chaeyoung replies, swallowing hard and watching Mina with apprehension.
An impatient Momo, almost nauseous now with dread, marches to the laptop, followed by the other 5 members. Mina reluctantly makes her way to them as well, and is promptly flanked by a supportive Tzuyu and Sana.
Jeongyeon takes the initiative to open the laptop back up and restore the video into its screen, and that’s when half of TWICE gasps so loudly that Momo is certain the neighbors heard them, while the other half is absolutely paralyzed with shock.
Nothing, really, in the entire world, could have prepared Momo for what she sees.
Momo could have taken several deep breaths beforehand. She could have been sitting down. She could have gleefully consumed her favorite pork feet dish prior to viewing this. And still, none of these would have made a difference.
Because when the screen displays, in moderately good resolution footage captured by a cellphone, her and Mina laughingly stumbling out of a casino chapel into a gaudy but homey hallway, arms entangled in a messy and unsteady embrace, and when it shows Momo giggling and gently pushing Mina back into a marbled wall, and when it shows her press her body into Mina’s and kiss her as though Mina’s mouth is the world’s sole source of oxygen, and it shows Mina kissing her back and smiling and then breaking off the kiss seemingly to make a joking comment before drunkenly pulling her back by her shirt collar into another kiss—when Momo watches all this, she realizes that all this energy she expended trying to deny what happened and trying to come up with some alternative explanation for all this mounting evidence, was spent in vain. Because nothing was photoshopped, nothing was copy-pasted. The rings she found in her luggage—they are their rings.
The tabloids are right. She did marry Mina. And she can’t remember a single second of it.
Momo is frozen to her spot; body and mind overtaken by horror-induced paralysis. She doesn’t notice any of the surrounding girls, she registers no smells or sounds or sights or anything, really, besides the scene playing in front of her.
It’s almost ironic that when Chaeyoung hesitantly lowers the video window and the marriage certificate pops into view, that Momo catches sight of the official Nevada state seal and the legal-sounding verbiage, but her eyes dart to one line in particular, and after the gut-punch that was watching herself comfortably making out with Mina, this is what actually yanks a reaction from her—her jaw drops and her entire body stiffens, a reflex-like response to her heart’s leap into her throat.
“Wait, what the—” Momo glances up from the computer to throw a bewildered glance at Mina, who appears to be still be too overwhelmed by the mind-boggling video and looks just about ready to suffer an early death. “Momo Myoui?” She reads off that line from the document out loud, almost as though wanting to ensure that this is what she’s actually seeing; that her eyes aren’t playing tricks on her. “My last name is Myoui?? I took your last name??”
At this, Mina—not the most expressive member, truth be told—seems to momentarily emerge from the cloud of horror shrouding her face, and registers some degree of faint surprise. “You did?”
“Why would I even—I’m older than you!” Momo sputters.
“Do you two… remember any of this?” Jihyo poses tentatively, jerking back when both Mina and Momo immediately shout a resounding “NO!” in response.
The ensuing thudding, twitching silence surrounding the group of girls in the small kitchen seems almost suffocating, and Momo is gripped by a heart-stilling fear of how drastically their lives will change now. She wonders how absolutely catastrophic this scandal will be, how irreversible will be the backlash from their conservative Asian audience, whether this incident will derail any part of their careers, whether that video of her and Mina will affect their relationships with one another, and all of these devastating thoughts soak through her painfully like poison, strangling her until she feels as though the world is being swept from under her feet.
Vaguely, she’s aware of scattered conversations swimming in the air around her (“JYP will have it annulled, for sure” and “they were drunk and they don’t remember it, obviously; it has to be annulled,” and “yeah, that must be why they’re calling them,” and “don’t worry, guys; this isn’t going anywhere”), words and phrases from friends who seem to truly believe that things are going to be all right, and she spots both Sana and Jihyo murmuring consoling words to a partially-placated Mina.
Mina meets her eye for a loaded second, and it’s a look that pulls Momo from the world around them and the friends encircling them, to ask her—are things really going to be all right? And the weight of this wordless question makes Momo swallow down every ounce of her own apprehension rioting inside her, because Mina wants reassurance from her before she’ll believe anyone else.
And that’s why Momo’s discreet smile to her is firmly optimistic and sure; so Mina can believe this, even if Momo herself doesn’t necessarily believe it—everything will be fine; they’ll handle this together and everything will be fine.
“I’m telling you—in 30 minutes our van will come pick you two up and your marriage will be annulled and it won’t be a big deal,” Jeongyeon is stating firmly, to everyone’s agreeing nods.
Nayeon speaks up, in a transparent attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
“Myoui Momo...” she murmurs, somewhere between musing and casual. “It doesn’t sound awful. Might even have a little bit of a ring to it.”
Perhaps it’s because indeed, everyone’s nerves have been tightened and coiled with the rapidly-worsening trainwreck that have been these last 5 minutes, but this is what finally seems to waken the girls to the absurdity of the situation, to just how truly ludicrous it would have been to even describe—let alone witness in real life—a drunken marriage between TWICE’s quietest member and one of its most outgoing; between the girl whose world is contained almost entirely within her own head, and the girl who has always relied on her body and her movements to convey everything her mouth can’t.
“Sucks that they have the same initials now,” Sana adds with a shrug. “It’s going to be hard to label things.”
“You know, now that you’re married like proper adults, there really is no reason you can’t be better about doing your chores around the dorm,” Jeongyeon chastises, gently nudging Momo.
Momo blinks in realization of what her friends are doing, and even Mina looks up from her lap to confirm their bandmates’ unsubtle, tender-hearted efforts to reassure the two affected girls.
“Yeah, married people can’t be lazy like us singles are,” Jihyo joins in, throwing Mina a pointed look.
“I hope you’re not expecting any wedding gifts,” Chaeyoung chimes in with a nervous smile. “You didn’t invite any of us—”
“Which is just about the rudest thing I can think of,” a disapproving Nayeon huffs, “since I would have loved to be a maid of honor to at least one of you.”
“I would have been Mina’s, so Nayeon unnie, you can have Momo unnie,” Tzuyu asserts confidently, resting her arm around a much-softened Mina, who is following the back-and-forth between her friends with amusement.
“Wait, why do you get to be Mina’s? What if I wanted to be Mina’s?” Sana questions, sounding legitimately miffed.
“Both of you are wrong—Mina would have definitely picked me to be her maid of honor,” Jeongyeon argues in turn, and then Momo feels her eyes prickle with the first indication of tears; her heart, soaring with gratitude that these are the girls she’s called her best friends for the past 3 years, soothed by their certainty that everything will be fine.
They’re right, Momo tells herself, inner voice stronger than before; the marriage will be annulled and everything will be restored back to usual order.
(Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine. Everythingwillbefine.)
She cheerily jumps into the conversation as well, in the way she knows best.
“Wait, back up—why does no one want to be my maid of honor?”
Dahyun snickers something about Momo being a “bridezilla” and having a “dance choreography for the bridesmaids” and Jihyo comments that she always thought Mina’s wedding would be videogame-themed and Momo’s would be at an all-you-can-eat buffet, and then everyone is laughing as Nayeon imitates Momo’s aisle walk (a horrifically exaggerated catwalk-like prance with a dance break halfway through).
Momo laughs until her abs begin to ache, and she watches a flushed Mina laughing and hiding her face into Tzuyu’s sleeve, and it really does seem, for a brief, hazy moment, that nothing’s happened; nothing’s changed; everything really is the same.
(Everything will be fine.)
-
It’s almost too much to absorb, all the information they are bombarded with during their first hour inside JYPE’s Headquarters. Momo and Mina are seated around an oppressively large mahogany table—round, dark, and imposing, a table that could be used in a movie for a high-stakes business negotiation scene—as the company’s legal team relay in a flurry of information the depth of the problem the two girls have gotten themselves into.
Momo registers select points, and tries to digest each one while at the same time minding Mina’s thoroughly horrified gaping as they try to follow a rapidly-changing slideshow projected in front of them:
-The footage was captured by a fan on vacation in Las Vegas.
-A major US outlet acquired the footage and obtained the public record of their marriage.
-The story first broke on their flight back to Seoul—by the time they had landed, the story had begun to circulate in Asia.
-JYPE was alerted to the story when the president of France was asked during an LGBT-focused press conference, impromptu, whether he had heard the news of two Korean popstars who had secretly married in the United States, and had consequently responded that he had not, but that he sincerely wished that this display of love would encourage world leaders in notoriously-conservative Asian nations to recognize the equal rights of LGBT people, and then went on to formally invite TWICE to perform in the French presidential estate.
Momo is searching her immediate vicinity for a paper bag she can use to remedy her sudden shortness of breath—while noticing that shell-shocked Mina isn’t even breathing—and then realizes that the slideshow is still going on:
-Various heads of state—from Canada, the Netherlands, United Kingdom, and even the United States—prompted by influential LGBT activist groups and prominent figures, have released public statements in support of the marriage and invited TWICE for official performances.
-JYPE stocks have doubled in the last 24 hours.
Momo’s brain begins to feel as though it is slowly but surely melting inside her skull and she’s halfway through an effort to gather enough of her composure to ask to be excused to the bathroom—wherein she plans to wash her face or punch it and perhaps wake up from this nightmare—when the slideshow does stop this time, and the head lawyer from JYPE’s Legal Office addresses them for the first time.
“We would like for you to consider an option,” he proposes, intelligent and solemn while maintaining an approachable air. “In the past few hours, we have tested a variety of scenarios for this… incident… with our test groups and have found that there is one in which both you and JYPE can have some measure of control over this narrative, and retain public support for TWICE.”
Mina has barely uttered two words since their arrival in this office, but she’s the one who jumps in now. “Yes, sir; through an annulment, right?”
The head lawyer seems to exchange a fleeting look with other members of the legal panel, and Momo feels a wave of unease further aggravating her nausea.
“No, as a matter of fact… an annulment tested very badly with our test groups.”
Oh. My. God.
Momo’s jaw drops. She knows where this is going, and Mina is frowning because she has no idea, but Momo knows, and—
“The scenario that tested the best is for you and Momo to remain married. It would be an acting exercise for you, of course; the public would be none the wiser.”
Oh my God, she was right. JYPE wants them to pretend they’re married. Oh my God oh my God oh my God—
It’s the two girls’ turn to trade horrified looks, and if Mina’s face could have morphed into a literal question mark, it would have.
“Only for a year—with a potential six-month early termination if things go well,” another lawyer adds, but the clarification helps very, very little—Momo reads into the determined spark in Mina’s eyes and knows they are definitely not okay with this. They’ll turn it down—they have to.
“Um. Can Mina and I discuss this?” Momo requests tentatively, relieved when the lawyers assent and leave the office.
Instantly, Momo seizes Mina’s hand in unhidden panic. “Holy shit, Mina. Holy shit!” she whispers ferociously. “Married! For a year! What the hell!”
"Yeah, we have to say no," Mina’s nod is immediate but her unfocused gaze piques Momo’s worry. “Hey, I’m going to the bathroom really quick—I think I’m still hung over so I don’t feel too well and this meeting hasn’t made it any better,” Mina responds weakly, and when Momo moves to stand and follow her, Mina picks up on her intention and amends softly, “I’ll be right back—you don’t need to come with me.”
Understanding that this is Mina desiring privacy, Momo sits down once again and watches the girl leave while silently praying that she feel better when she comes back. Momo’s attention is so completely devoted to Mina and whether she should perhaps check on her after all, that it takes a second for her to realize that the small speakers affixed to the centermost part of the table appear to be picking up a low, staticky conversation, like an old-timey radio transmitting a broadcast marred by interference. The voice sounds vaguely familiar, like someone she’s heard recently—most likely from one of the lawyers standing just outside the conference room. Out of curiosity, Momo leans forward, closer to the speakers, and then catches a snippet of conversation that instantly alarms her.
“Yes, we have pitched our favored idea. They do not appear very inclined to take it. Which is unfortunate, given Mina’s prior history with us.”
Prior history with the Legal Team? What history does Mina hav—
Oh, shit—BamBam, of course. The PR-nightmare picture that spawned two months of death threats, cyber-bullying, doubled security measures, weekly meetings with JYP himself to ensure Mina never “steps out of line again,” and the sort of emotional cost that worsened Mina’s already-not-stellar relationship with public attention.
“Yes, we may have to discuss a severance option with Mina in this case—”
SEVERANCE?
AS IN LETTING MINA GO??
At this, Momo jumps back in her seat and promptly decides she does not need to listen to anything else. Her muscles spring into action before her lungs can prepare themselves for it—she pants as she practically runs to the bathroom and bursts inside, catching sight of Mina drying her hands by the sink, and then turning to her with wide-eyed apprehension.
“Momo, what are you—”
Firmly, Momo grabs Mina’s hand and pulls her inside one the stalls, efficiently locking them inside and then nervously wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Agitation flows through her veins like electricity, and she anxiously paces the tiny space around the toilet in a fruitless attempt to organize the chaos in her mind before actually addressing Mina.
“Momo—”
“Just a sec,” Momo forces out shakily, buying time but realizing there’s not much time to buy in the first place.
Mina only waits a few seconds before her patience apparently is worn thin, and she clears her throat and asks seriously, “Momo, what is it? You’re worrying me.”
There are half-finished sentences overwhelming her thoughts and Momo can hardly breathe, her mind is in such disarray right now.
Mina, we need…
You need…
This is crazy…
I know what you’re going to say…
This is the best…
If we could just…
Please, just…
What if we…
Mina’s voice edges into the scrambled mess of her mind, and every bone and muscle in Momo’s body is rigid with distress, but she halts her frenzied pacing nonetheless. “The lawyers are waiting for us; we have to—”
You have to stay in TWICE.
“Let’s—let’s just do it,” Momo blurts out clumsily in her native Japanese, the slip causing Mina to frown, seemingly tipped off of her inner turmoil.
Mina blinks blankly, obviously unnerved by Momo’s words. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s… do it.” Momo clears her throat, second-guessing herself now on whether Mina’s befuddled expression—as well as her own internal fight against her rational, logical side—isn’t enough indication from the universe that she really is suggesting something insane. “Let’s pretend to be married, like they’re saying.”
Mina’s brows furrow together impossibly close as she crosses her arms—never a good sign—and then shoots back skeptically, “you’re joking, right? We would never pull it off.”
The fact that Mina is at least considering—even if outright rejecting—the idea injects Momo with some frail hope. “We could. We totally could.”
“Momo,” Mina begins, now truly confounded, “we’re not even gay. How—”
“We would just have to act the way we already do,” Momo counters, much more smoothly than even she could have anticipated, and mentally she high-fives herself. It’s that self-congratulatory rush that fuels her on to add, “we’ve even kissed already.”
“The pepero incident last year doesn’t count,” Mina protests, halfway through an eye-roll, but Momo’s determination prompts her to barge on.
“Mina, think about it—we’ve never done anything remotely romantic and people already ship us and write fanfictions and make video edits and fan art and—”
Mina cuts in once again, straightforward and analytical. “Why do you want to do this all of a sudden?”
Shit.
As it is, trying to outsmart Mina isn’t going that well, and now Momo has to lie convincingly. Her likelihood of success has just about taken a nosedive to 0.
“Because… I don’t believe in divorce…?”
This time, Mina does roll her eyes. “We’re going to divorce anyw—”
Perhaps sticking as closely as possible to the truth without actually telling the truth is the way to go. “Fine—because I think we should just do what JYP says.” She only realizes her tone has shifted from persuasive to pleading when Mina lets the words hang in the air between them; suddenly, the entire bathroom seems smaller and dimmer, as though illuminated solely by the glint of confusion in Mina’s eyes. “They’re suggesting this because of what these test groups think, and I don’t want to piss people off, either. And besides, it’s only a year, and we even have that six-month option if things go well.”
“So you want to do this to obey JYP and please the public,” Mina surmises matter-of-factly, seemingly buying Momo’s justification.
“Yeah,” Momo replies easily, hoping so badly that Mina finally gives in and accepts her proposition, instead of continuing to resist.
A pensive Mina leans back against a wall with a sigh, closing her eyes and tightening her coat around her frail frame, no doubt running a thousand simulations a minute inside her intimidatingly-active mind.
Momo waits and waits with growing uncertainty and a fear that she will end up having to divulge her BamBam-related motivations after all, drudging up a past that Mina has tried so intently to leave behind.
Instead, she’s taken aback when Mina finally opens her eyes, training a calmer, focused gaze on Momo. “Okay. We’ll do it.”
-
They are afforded the opportunity to speak to their immediate family members to both disclose their contractual agreement for the next year, and reinforce the absolute necessity for secrecy. Momo struggles to make any progress past an explanation of how she and Mina got married overseas in the first place, let alone the terms that comprise the contract; her parents are understandably baffled and her sister can’t believe Momo is married (“to Myoui Mina! You know she’s too good for you, right?”) so after twenty minutes of a headache-inducing conversation, Momo forcibly bids her family goodbye while her mother fires off her hundredth question about Momo’s alcohol consumption overseas.
Tiredly, Momo makes her way to the meeting room inside which Mina is ostensibly having the same conversation with her own family, and manages to catch a snippet of the girl’s similarly exhausting reassurances.
“… a contract, dad—we don’t have much of a choice; none of this is up to me. Mom, really, I’m not actually married.” Mina meets her eyes across the doorway and shakes her head with frustration while Momo offers her an empathetic smile. “Yes, I would have invited you. I would never get married without telling you. Well, aside from this one time.” Mina motions her over and Momo takes the seat next to her. “I have to go, mom. We can talk more later.” Out of habit, Momo lays a hand on Mina’s shoulder but the memory of their marriage and their video flashes inside her head and she immediately pulls back with a wince that Mina thankfully does not notice. “Yes, I will call later. Just remember that no one outside you, dad, and Kai can know about us. No, not even grandma and grandpa.”
A few seconds later, Mina hangs up as well and lays her head, forehead first, atop the desk in front of them.
Momo cuts through the silence with a tense chuckle. “On a scale of 0 to the first time you had the birds and bees talk with your parents, how awkward was that conversation?”
She observes a tiny shrug from Mina before the morose girl actually replies with a muffled, “a twenty, probably. Because of that video of us. I got the feeling…” Mina hesitates, then finally raises her head to face Momo with a decidedly disheartened grimace, “that my parents think our marriage is real and I’m just too embarrassed to tell them.”
Momo is slightly taken aback because this isn’t at all how her own parents reacted—had the conversation been longer, perhaps the Hirais would eventually given her their opinion on the authenticity of their matrimony, but as it was, their entire phone exchange consisted of Momo attempting to explain how the marriage could have even taken place when they were in a foreign country on business, surrounded (presumably) by a security team.
“Ready to go back to the lawyers?” Momo queries gently, as a reminder that they’re still supposed to receive a full three-hour long briefing and additional media training before they’re dismissed for the day.
Even as they both stand, Momo notices Mina’s hesitation as the girl lingers by the table, staring at her phone in deep thought. “Momo…”
“Yeah?”
“This is going to turn out okay, right?” Her tone is weighed down by a pained type of anxiety, and the softness of her voice, the fragility of her frame, and the way her eyes are wide and worried and hopeful, it all makes Momo sort of ache inside, a feeling she’s so unused to that she remains silent. “Things aren’t going to change too much, right? We’re not going to change, are we?”
There’s so much Mina isn’t saying—so much more than what her words are actually conveying—and Momo knows the girl in front of her so well that these things might as well be spelled out for her, one by one: they work together so closely, they’ve known each other for so long, they love each other so much, they rely on each other so often for so many things…
Mina is asking her to promise to stay the same. And Momo opens her mouth to agree immediately, because losing Mina would be like losing a limb.
But then, something faint and hazy sparks inside her mind. It’s a blurry recollection—weak, like a memory of a memory, emerging from the edge of her conscience: Momo, pausing her drunken stumble down a casino hallway, enveloping Mina’s hand inside hers, and turning to the prettiest girl she’s ever seen in her life to give her the widest smile she thinks she’s ever worn, fueled by what she believes is a genius idea.
(“Minaaaaaa… you know what we should do?”)
Fuck.
("We should get married, Mitang.")
This is her fault.
Breathlessly, Momo clears her throat, and wills her voice to be stronger and surer than she is. She can indulge her impending mental breakdown later—right now is not the time. “Of course not. We’re MiMo. We’re not going to change, Mina. Everything will be fine.”