Guys can we talk about Zoey?
Like Zoey. Zoey Zoey Zoey.
Her biggest fear has always been this exact nightmare: being way too much and never enough, all at the same time. And she is that. She’s lived it every single day.
She’s too loud, too hyper, too clingy, too bouncy, too full of rapid fire thoughts and turtle memes and endless energy that never knows when to shut the fuck up. She latches onto people with that bright, disarming smile and those big sparkling eyes and pulls them in so easily. Who doesn’t love the bubbly maknae? Who doesn’t want a little sunshine ball running around making everyone laugh and feel a little lighter? She’s the emotional glue, the one who remembers the small things, the one who gives hugs like she’s scared the moment will disappear if she lets go.
But the second someone leans in closer? The second they stop laughing at the surface and actually try to see her? There’s nothing substantial there. She’s not enough. She takes up so much space, demands so much attention with her chaos and her feelings and her constant need to be needed, but underneath all the glitter and hair and perky optimism?
Not enough depth to keep anyone’s interest once the novelty fades. She’s exhausting. She’s draining. She’s the girl who pours everything out and still somehow ends up feeling like she’s stealing oxygen from the room.
Even Gwi-Ma saw it. The demon king looked straight into her and offered the one thing she’s always secretly wanted: a way to finally be enough. Not too much, not too little. Just right. Powerful. Focused. Wanted. Useful. For one weak, desperate moment she almost took it because anything felt better than this endless tightrope of being the cute but ultimately disposable maknae. But now he’s gone, the offer is dust, and she’s back to being imperfect, scattered, not quite enough Zoey again.
And don’t even pretend the fanfics fixes it.
Even in the fandom’s favorite fantasy where Rumi and Mira choose her too, where she gets to crawl into their little found-family polycule, she’s still the afterthought. The third wheel who got invited out of pity.
Mira and Rumi? They burn. They clash like fire and gasoline. The sharp tongued punk and the burdened, self loathing leader with all that delicious tension, protectiveness, and slow burn angst. Authors eat that shit up. Thousands of fics, long chapters, endless tag variations just exploring the two of them, how they fight, how they break, how they heal each other. That’s the real candy. That’s the pairing people actually want to sink their teeth into.
//And she still in the background too im crine//
But Zoey? She’s the sprinkles. The optional extra. The “and Zoey” at the end of the summary. Even when someone does write her as a love interest for both of them, the focus inevitably slides right back to Rumi and Mira’s chemistry. Zoey’s there for the fluff scenes. The comic relief moments. The one who gets kissed when the other two need a breather. She’s background noise in her own goddamn relationship.
And the worst part? When authors do try to focus on her, when they actually attempt a Zoey centric story or give her real page time… what do they give her? Divorced parents. Maybe some vague “felt weird and ostracized in California” angst. A little cultural identity struggle about being Korean-American. Tragic? Sure, on paper. But so dull. So generic. It doesn’t hit. It doesn’t cut deep like Rumi’s visceral self hatred and demon marks or Mira’s raw abandonment wounds and temper.
Zoey’s just… there. A bubbly, funny, hyperactive comic relief girl with ADHD headcanons and people-pleasing issues. Cute. Relatable in a surface-level way. But not interesting. Not complex enough. Not broken in the beautiful, poetic ways that make readers obsessed.
No wonder no one wants to focus on her.
Even in the fics that tag her prominently, she ends up sidelined. The plot drifts. The emotional weight lands on Rumi’s shame or Mira’s anger. Zoey gets a few soft scenes where she cries and gets hugged, maybe writes some touching lyrics, then fades into the background again while the real story happens between the other two. She’s not tortured enough. Not angry enough. Not sexy, broken enough. She’s the vitamin pill. The emotional support maknae. The one who makes everyone else feel better but never quite earns the same spotlight. Not a good enough candy. Not substantial enough to carry a scene, let alone a whole fic. Just too much chaos, not enough meat.
So she’ll keep smiling that big, bright smile. Keep bouncing around like everything’s fine. Keep writing lyrics about belonging while feeling like the weakest link in the group she’d burn the world for. Keep being the one who loves the hardest and still somehow ends up feeling like an accessory.
She’s just not that interesting.
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