Chapter Text
Ryujin had no idea why she agreed to this.
In fact, she was profoundly exhausted. They had just landed at 3am after touring in some country she couldn’t even pronounce, and it was their first day off in what felt like an eternity.
Yet there they were: 7am on some random Tuesday — since Yeji swears they wouldn’t be swarmed by fans at this time — navigating through the various kiosks and random food-stalls in a mall two hours from their dorm.
Ryujin feels her knuckles whitening under the taut grip of Yeji’s hand, as she leads her to a deserted corner of the mall, where a faint smile appears on the older girl’s lips.
“We’re here.” Yeji whispers, like she had just discovered a hidden treasure from the crevices of the Earth’s mantle.
Ryujin blinks comically slowly.
“This is it?”
“A photobooth?” Ryujin's voice is almost guttural, each syllable gradually becoming more pronounced. “You dragged me here on my day off, so we can take photos? Are you serious right now, Yeji?”
Ryujin loved Yeji — there was no doubt in her mind about that — but in the rare times when she would act like this, a wave of irritation momentarily washed over her.
“This is our job, Yeji. All we do is let people watch us and take photos. Why are we even here?” Ryujin bemoans with a not-so-subtle eye roll, her exasperation clearly palpable.
The revelation isn’t new — in fact, it was a familiar thought that haunted both Ryujin and Yeji during sleepless nights after enduring pointless award shows or redundant fan-meets. They questioned whether they were akin to animals confined in an enclosure, subject to the poking and prodding for the entertainment of others.
“Can I show you something?” Yeji shrugs off Ryujin’s line of questioning, in her typical nonchalant way.
Ryujin responds with an instinctive nod, quietly resigned to the fact that she had been beaten.
The duo sit in the photobooth as Yeji hastily closes the matted curtain. The dilapidated screen, tinged with dust, serves as a canvas for Yeji, who mindlessly scrolls through the variety of options.
It was nothing fancy, Ryujin thinks. Honestly, it was actually kind of uncomfortable. The air felt musty, with dust particles dancing in the feeble backlight and chipped paint peeling off the interior — only a stark contrast from those ultra-sophisticated Korean photobooths she had admired online.
“Ryujin. I need to talk to you about something.”
Yeji’s interruption abruptly snaps Ryuijn out of her ruminations, as she suddenly feels a rush of blood course through her veins. A wave of anxiety engulfs her, fueled by the panic of disappointing her best friend.
“W-what have I done, unnie?” Ryujin stammers, praying her cadence doesn’t betray the panic in her voice.
The walls of the tiny booth, already confined, seem to close in further, the air thickening palpably. For a fleeting moment, she wishes the ground would just swallow her whole, offering a brief respite from whatever devastating news Yeji is about to deliver.
“Nothing, Ryujin.” Yeji mutters, her register lowering until Ryujin can barely hear her. “You have done nothing wrong.”
And the racing thoughts slam to an abrupt halt. Ryujin’s eyes dart across the liminal space, trying to rationalise whatever fuck-up she had done now.
“In fact, it’s probably me that’s done something wrong.” Yeji tries to mask the tremor in her voice, diverting her gaze from Ryujin's eyes.
“What’s wrong, unnie? What happened?” Ryujin asks, unconsciously chewing on her bottom lip. “Whatever, it is, unnie, we can fix it…”
“I’m…” Yeji shakes her head slowly, her silver drooped earrings quivering while she retreats her hands into her shallow pockets. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, Ryujin-ah.”
The depths of Ryujin’s mind suddenly travel to the worst possible places - is the album not selling enough? Is the tour getting cancelled? She momentarily spirals - is she getting kicked out of ITZY?
Ryujin pleads with Yeji, her face reddening as her breaths become more and more pronounced. “Unnie, whatever it is, please talk to me. I want to help.”
“I, um…” Yeji pauses, seemingly grappling for any kind of coherent string of words to pull together.
“I need to tell you something, Ryujin. Something that I should have told you a long time ago.”
Ryujin agitatedly fidgets in her seat, anticipation hanging thick in the air like a veil submerging her.
“I think… I think I like girls, Ryujin.”
A moment passes, as if time is suspended for a fleeting second.
“What?”
Ryujin takes a moment to digest Yeji’s declaration, an eyebrow raised.
“I like girls. Like, romantically.”
And then, a wave of relief cascades over Ryujin as the weight of impending doom lifts, acknowledging the magnitude of Yeji's confession. There was no catastrophic event, since this was a personal revelation, not a professional crisis.
And just like that, a faint smile appears on Ryujin’s lips, serving as a beacon of reassurance for the older girl.
“What are you saying, unnie?” Ryujin murmurs softly, gently coaxing Yeji to elaborate.
“I’m a… lesbian?” Yeji mumbles, her voice a drop above a whisper now. “...I think that’s what the word is.”
Yeji awkwardly shifts her body to turn from Ryujin in a futile attempt to evade Ryujin's piercing gaze, consumed by an overwhelming sense of shame.
“...and that’s it?” Ryujin whispers in quiet disbelief, cradling Yeji’s head to redirect her gaze. “No one’s died? I’m not getting kicked out? ITZY is fine?”
“Ryujin, am I disgusting?”
Ryujin’s mouth is agape slightly, slowly absorbing the weight of Yeji’s words. She tries to sustain eye contact with Yeji’s wandering eyes and inches closer to her, in a passive attempt to keep her from spiraling further.
“I’ve had these feelings for so long, and I know they’re unnatural, but I just can’t…” Tears simmer in Yeji’s eyes, while her bottom lip quivers as she chokes on her words. “I just can’t control it, Ryujin. S-something is wrong with me.”
Ryujin gazes deeper into Yeji’s eyes with incredulity. “Yeji-unnie, what are you saying? You’re perfect.” Because to Ryujin, she really was. Their beloved leader, main dancer and lead singer of ITZY, with her magnetic stage presence, and dulcet voice that could captivate anyone in a room.
“I’m sick, Ryujin. Something is wrong with me and…” Yeji’s fingers fidget awkwardly with her jacket zipper, as she starts chewing on her bottom lip, almost drawing blood. “...I can’t control my feelings, and it’s disgusting.”
“I’m… disgusting.”
Ryujin’s eyes widened in disbelief, still processing the weight of Yeji’s revelation. “Unnie, you know it’s 2024, right? People can literally be whoever the fuck they want to be!” A genuine smile curves Ryujin's lips as she speaks, her eyes flickering with compassion.
The younger girl starts rambling in a subtle attempt to quell Yeji’s mind from spiraling. “You know it’s becoming more common in our industry too, right? So many people have told me they like girls too, unnie! It's perfectly normal, I promise. Nothing is wrong with you, okay?” Leaning in, Ryujin tenderly cradles Yeji’s face in her hands, her gaze unwavering with affection.
Yeji stares at Ryujin with a combination of astonishment and lingering shame. “There’s other people like… me?”
Ryujin’s words were like a balm on Yeji’s self-inflicted pain. “So many, unnie! Like, remember we met (G)-IDLE at the last award show? Yuqi-sunbae told me that she is a lesbian too, and she is dating Soyeon-sunbae.”
Ryujin’s cheeks blush slightly out of breathlessness, in a desperate attempt to alleviate the shame etched on Yeji's face. “A-And Karina-unnie, she told me she is pansexual, which means she is attracted to people regardless of their gender.”
“And…” Ryujin hesitates momentarily, trying to piece together the right words in her mind. “There's someone else who likes girls too… someone you might know pretty well.”
A shy smirk appears written on Ryujin’s face — she wasn’t exactly shy about her sexuality, but since it had never come up, she hadn’t figured to tell her bandmates just yet.
Until now.
Yeji's gaze shifts, confusion flickering in her eyes as she tries to decipher Ryujin's cryptic statement.
“It’s me, unnie. I’m bisexual.” Ryujin exclaims, eyebrows raised slightly before seeing more confusion written over Yeji’s face. “...It means I like boys and girls, unnie.”
Yeji’s eyes widen slowly as realization dawns on her.
“Are you telling the truth, Ryujin-ah?” Yeji’s intonated voice masked as a plea for honesty — sincerity — anything real to anchor her in this moment of vulnerability. “Don’t try to lie to make me feel better.”
“Yeji-yah, I wouldn’t lie about something like that!” Ryujin chuckles and pinches Yeji's cheek softly, in a playful yet somewhat desperate attempt to infuse some lightness into the heavy atmosphere. “I think girls are hot! Who doesn’t? And I guess guys are hot too sometimes…”
Yeji looks wordlessly at Ryujin, with yet more tears welling up in her eyes. “Ryujin-ah.” She pauses, the depth of her emotions lingering in the air.
Something tells Ryujin this isn’t all that Yeji wanted to say.
“Unnie, talk to me, please.” Ryujin mutters, a gentle yet anguishing plea for Yeji to share the weight of her emotions.
“W-watching all of those videos last night…” Yeji’s voice barely rose above a whisper as she tried to conceal the shame that clung to her words. The memories of the fan-made edit videos and the laughter they had shared over the absurd portrayals of their relationship, played vividly in Ryujin's mind.
“I should’ve told you this years ago, unnie. I’m sorry.”
Ryujin glances at Yeji earnestly, realising the gravity of what is was about to say.
“I… I’m in love with you, Ryujin-ah. I have been for years.”
Yeji’s confession clings to the air, the weight of those eleven words sinking into the vapid four-by-four liminal space.
“Oh.”
Yeji squirms awkwardly in the uncomfortable brass stool of the booth, her voice now a stream of incoherent apologies. “I-I tried to control my feelings, Ryujin, I swear.” Her voice stammers as tears continue to cascade down her cheek. “I’m sick, I know. B-but from the day we met as trainees…”
Fond recollections start to unfold in Yeji's blubbering speech, as she starts untangling memories from their trainee years. “I was in love with you from the day we met, Ryujin. From the day you introduced yourself to me. And…” Tears continue to stream down Yeji’s face, her body trembling with anxiety.
“And I never stopped.” Yeji confesses, the color almost drained from her face. “Loving you.”
Ryujin pauses for a moment, before wordlessly taking Yeji’s hand, as if compelled by an unconscious motion.
“You’re just so beautiful, Ryujin-ah. You just don’t even realise how beautiful you are.”
Ryujin is confronted by the unfamiliar nature of this very moment. She had been confessed to a few times — albeit by acne-ridden prepubescent boys in middle-school holding decaying grocery store flowers and cheap expired chocolates. It was seldom often where she was rendered speechless. Yet, at this moment, Ryujin only felt void of speech in the aftermath of Yeji’s revelation. She resigns to a tender brush of her thumb to wipe away the stray tears on Yeji’s tinted face.
“You’re gorgeous, and talented, and so damn good at everything you do…” Yeji’s voice trails into nothingness, as Ryujin senses her becoming more and more ashamed of her raw admissions.
Suddenly, like clockwork, Ryujin realises she knows exactly what she needs to do.
Yeji was nothing like those greasy boys from middle school — she was different. The Hwang Yeji — with those patented cat-like eyes and effortless charisma on-stage or elsewhere. The girl who always concealed her vulnerable side and naturally exercised her protective feline-like instincts.
And so, Ryujin decides to follow her instincts for once. And kisses Yeji.
It was a quick, chaste kiss, almost akin to a peck. But it was enough to convey more than friendship, and since Ryujin always had a penchant for being impulsive — she sure wasn’t going to stop now.
“R-Ryujin, what are yo— ” Yeji's voice cuts off with the sensation of Ryujin's lips implanted on hers.
Ryujin doesn’t care to respond. In fact, Ryujin doesn’t care about much at this moment of time. Except Yeji.
“Shhhh….” Ryujin whispers, before initiating another kiss. This time felt more lingering, as if she was savoring the moment.
“You’re so fucking hot, Yeji.”
It was a simple, blunt declaration that hangs in the air for a few moments, yet somehow still carried an ounce of carnal desire. “I don’t know how you don’t realise it by now.”
A coy smile plays on Ryujin’s lips as she kisses Yeji again, deeper, savoring the sensation of their lips meeting in the intimate confines of the photobooth. To Ryujin, it’s like the world beyond the confines of this cubicle simply fades away, totally unfazed if the universe existed neither here nor there.
Her gaze remains locked onto Yeji, a silent acknowledgment of the connection forming between them. Her touch, gentle yet possessive, explores the contours of Yeji's waist, an unspoken promise of understanding and acceptance.
"There's absolutely nothing wrong with you, unnie, okay? You're honestly perfect just the way you are." Ryujin whispers softly into Yeji's ear, eliciting a weak smile from the older girl.
"Is that true, Ryujin-ah?" Yeji asks, almost innocently, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "Can you kiss me again to prove it?" She laughs in that perfect idiosyncratic way, the corners of her cat-eyes crinkling.
For what seems like the first time in her life, with virtually zero hesitation, Ryujin complies with Yeji. She peppers Yeji with playful kisses again and again and again, each kiss layered with warmth and desire.
“I could do this all day if this is all it takes to prove my point.”
And suddenly conscious of Yeji's emotional state, Ryujin snaps out of her impulsive daze, realising she needs to be the responsible one in this moment. She silently acknowledges that Yeji needs time, reassurance, and the patient unraveling of emotions before venturing further into uncharted territories for them both.
"As much as I would love to keep kissing you, unnie..." Ryujin's voice trails off as she gazes into Yeji's mesmerizing eyes, inviting a pause in their intimate exchange.
"How about we go back to the dorm and talk," Ryujin swallows, her voice slightly laced with gravel. "Like, actually talk."
Yeji nods earnestly. "I'd like that."
Ryujin stands up and briskly takes Yeji's hand, grateful that her hands have stopped quivering. "Shall we?" She motions towards the exit of the dingy photobooth, the curtain emitting a cloud of dust as she pulls it aside.
“Well, while we’re here…” Yeji's former melancholic self dissipates as she randomly selects a silly photo frame on the cracked screen. It was almost heartwarming, Ryujin thinks, to see Yeji’s familiar spontaneous side resurface in an instant. With a playful gesture, she signals for Ryujin to sit in her lap.
And since Ryujin certainly has no qualms complying with Yeji, she sits obediently like a forlorn puppy on Yeij’s lap — a small act of crafted intimacy that naturally felt so damn comforting. They spend a few moments posing in various whimsical ways, seemingly distracted from their previous solemn and emotional conversation.
“It’s the last one…” Yeji notes, her flickering eyes locking onto Ryujin’s. A magnetic pull draws their gaze to each other's lips, and without hesitation, Yeji plants a slow and deep kiss onto Ryujin’s lips. The flash of the camera illuminates the rest of the booth, capturing an unspoken promise between them.
Ryujin laughs, letting the sound resonate in the booth for a few slow moments, before she whirs out of her daydream. In a swift motion, she collects the crackled photos and grabs Yeji's hand.
"Let's go, babe. We need to have a two-hour nap and then a two-hour debrief — in that order."
And they step out of that wretched space, carrying with them the bittersweet memories they had just etched in that liminal vacuum, moments that will linger for the rest of their lives.
It wasn't until 3am that night when their lives changed.
The pair spent the rest of the day together, wrapped in each other's arms in their clandestine sanctuary of inane laughter and bizarre anecdotes, provoking a parade of eye-rolls from the rest of the group outside their cocoon of joy.
Yet Yeji, the invariably dutiful leader, informed Ryujin that they needed to go to bed at a reasonable hour as to not to repeat last night’s mistakes, knowing they had practice early the next morning. And since Ryujin had been in the habit of obeying her unnie lately, she reluctantly departed for her room with a tender kiss on Yeji’s cheek, bearing goodnight.
And at 3am, there’s a blissful silence. Until Yeji’s phone began to ring.
Chaeryeong noticed it first, chastising Yeji with a playful whack using a fluffy pillow — what pabo doesn’t keep their phone on silent nowadays?
Except, Yeji does.
In fact, she always keeps her phone on silent unless it was an important contact call. And as her half-lidded cat eyes checked her phone and saw, it wasn’t her mother, father or her sister, Yeju calling.
The letters ‘Jinyoung-nim’ illuminated the screen, casting a harsh, clinical glow that spilled across the otherwise darkened room.
And then, realization hit Yeji.
JYP was calling her at 3am.
Yeji, fumbling with the ridiculous 9-digit passcode on her phone that she stupidly let Yuna choose, scrambles to answer the call in a state of delirium.
“Mr Park, seonbaenim? Is something wrong, sir?” She speaks almost too quickly, her voice akin to speaking in tongues in an unsubtle attempt to maintain composure in her voice.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Yeji? After everything I have done for you?” His voice bellows through the phone, almost viscerally penetrating Yeji’s eardrums as the skin on her arms start to prickle. “You really had to fuck this up, huh?”
Chaeryeong could only witness the horror etching itself across Yeji's face, the older girl grappling to locate an ounce of an explanation.
"Sir… p-please tell me what happened?" Yeji resorts to shamelessly begging, her voice crackling like frosted glass.
“I told you, I don’t care about what you do in your private lives… but to be this fucking stupid to do this publically?”
Yeji’s mind starts to whir, attempting to decipher any rationality for the chaos. Was it a failure in her leadership? A lapse in discipline? Her voice is guttural, almost broken as she chokes through her words while tears cascade down her cheeks. "I-I told you, I have been trying to discipline the members better, s-sir..."
“Your sexuality is your business — whatever — but to be this fucking stupid to take photos of it? With… your own bandmate? Do you know how much money I have lost right now? Do you know that my share prices have plummeted, because of you? Because you can’t control yourself, and you act like a degenerate?”
His unbridled rage seems to reverberate off of the walls, while Chaeryeong inches closer to Yeji and tenderly strokes her back, in a futile attempt to comfort her roommate.
And Yeji realizes. The photobooth.
In a frenzied desperation, she seizes Chaeryeong's phone, her fingers trembling as she frantically searches for her name.
And there it was.
The revelation in the glaring headlines of every Korean tabloid website was that damning image of her impulsive kiss with Ryujin — now forever immortalised in the dimly lit confines of that notorious photobooth.
And then, Yeji loses all semblance of coherent thought. She loses pretty much all feeling everywhere, actually, until she feels the sensation of a hydraulic-press crushing her ribcage, as the gravity of her actions start to weigh on her.
“I’m fucking done, Yeji. You can be the one to tell the team yourself. The amount of chances I have given you guys…” JYP’s anger erupts into nothingness, and all Yeji becomes, is numb.
She is void of emotions to react, or even digest what he’s saying. She moves to lie perpendicular on the bed for a few static moments, gazing at the slow spin of the ceiling fan and dusty photoframe beside her, depicting the group at their latest LA show.
“I’m done losing money, Yeji. You guys are cut. It’s done. Leave the dorm by tomorrow night.”
And the phone call ends, and all there is, is a painful silence that lingers in the air.
Chaeryeong stares at Yeji, her expression fraught with concern. "Well?" The younger girl inquired, almost dumbfounded at Yeji’s apparent exaggerated response. “What happened?”
Yeji meets Chaeryeong's gaze solemnly, before turning away. The magnitude of her actions begin to swirl in her mind like shadows caught in a vortex, as she gnaws on her bottom lip, almost savoring the metallic taste of blood on her tongue.
She starts thinking about what this means for the other four people whose lives she had just ruined.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow, Chaeryeong.” Yeji murmurs, plainly. “Go to sleep.”
And Yeji slumps under the covers, engulfed by the darkness, praying she does not wake up by morning.