so and so ;

that's why she's just thankful that this last comeback was more successful than she expected. it almost felt like they were allowed to get back on their feet with the success of hot. "i'm not going to mess up. a main dancer never messes up!" with that, she raised her fist up in the air to show her determination before cracking out into a fit of laughter.

with a smile, she grabs heejin's hand before giving her a firm nod. with that, they stepped out of their car to make their way over to the performance area. it's been a while since jiho's been out and about like this—she much enjoyed spending time in the dorms instead—so it was nice to get a look of the cherry blossoms.

“we’ll just rebrand, duh. the girl code bakery. four flavors, seasonal specials only.” she says it so easily, like it's already a given. “i’ll do the taste testing, obviously. leader privilege and all.” she adds with an overdramatic hair fip,

the ease of the moment, the joking, the way jiho lifts her fist in mock-determination,it's enough to make some of the lingering tightness in heejin’s chest loosen just a little. just seeing jiho laugh, seeing her so determined to believe in herself out loud, even if it’s in a teasing way, it’s more than she could ask for, honestly.

"main dancer never messes up," she echoes with a grin. “and if you do, you just convince everyone it was part of the choreography.”

they step closer to the action of it all now, and the breeze carries a few stray petals across their path, sticking briefly to jiho’s hoodie before fluttering off again. the sight makes heejin’s heart squeeze a little. spring always feels too fleeting—too soft and sweet for the world they usually live in.

at jiho’s comment about the rain, heejin hums low in agreement, tipping her head back to catch a glimpse of the bright sky already darkening at the edges with the faintest whisper of clouds.

“yeah,” she says after a moment, her voice a little softer. “things like this… they don’t last. but that’s what makes it worth it, right?”

she glances sidelong at jiho, a little crooked smile pulling at her mouth. “all the more reason we should enjoy it while we can."

and for a second, she lets herself do just that; lets the festival noise fade to a distant hum, lets herself be just a girl standing next to her best friend under a sky full of pink, laughing about bakeries and dance steps and silly things that won’t matter tomorrow but feel important now. because they are important now.

and then, without warning, a spark of mischief flashes across heejin’s face, a grin stretching wide and devilish.

hana lets out a soft “hmph.” and crosses her arms at heejin promising not to tell their members, though she lets herself bump her shoulder back against hers’. it was too easy for her to feel embarrassed during times like this, which in return made her attempt to act nonchalant.

she still keeps her eyes on anything else happening around them instead of looking directly at her. the people chatting around them as they walked past. the cherry blossoms petals on the ground almost looking like the confetti from a few minutes ago. anything to keep her centered and not thinking too closely about heejin’s words and everything the group’s gone through so far or else she might just start blinking furiously to hold back any tears threatening to fall, which is even more embarrassing.

“that… means a lot. thank you." she hesitates for a second, taking a small breath before speaking again. "… i think… we’re really finding our footing now. all of us. and like you said, i think people are noticing that.” despite her monotonous voice, hana felt like there was something genuine underlying there. she hopes heejin could notice it too.

her shoulders finally relax once she hears her laugh, and hana can’t help but let out something of a hum of a laugh back. “at least after that incident went viral, they didn’t use a bubble machine anymore. we truly are trendsetters.”

hana knows she should still be on, even while they wade through the crowd to grab some greasy snacks; just because she’s not on stage doesn’t mean there aren’t still fans looking at them, if the flashes from people’s phones show anything. but just this once, as she plays with the strings of her jacket to calm her steadily beating her, she wants some peace after a performance and she’s thankful it seems like the fans who notice them are willing to give them that much.

“haah? calling Leader Privilege on a donut doesn’t seem fair.” she says that, despite the evident pout on her face. it goes away once heejin jokes with her again, opening her mouth to let her have it only to blink in surprise when she concedes easily. “really? … well… okay. in that case, you can have the cheesiest corn dog i find.” the corners of her mouth upturn ever so slightly. “i'm serious, and i'm not taking no for an answer.”

it’s not loud. not something she says with fanfare or big gestures. but she means it. they’ve all been through enough to know what it feels like to fake it. this doesn’t feel fake.

her steps slow a little as they walk, enough to fall slightly behind hana, just for a second, as her eyes skim the petals crushed underfoot and the glow of camera flashes flickering like fireflies. maybe the world is still watching, but for once, it doesn’t feel suffocating.

“bubble machines are banned in this household,” she deadpans, keeping her voice low but conspiratorial, like she’s passing on a sacred decree. “next time it’ll be smoke or fireworks or who knows what. maybe they’ll just shoot us out of cannons.”

and then she grins. “i’d make it work. i’d land in a split.”

she doesn't need to push for more than hana’s giving— doesn’t press, doesn’t prod. instead, she just lets the moment stretch as they edge closer to the snack stall, the scent of sugar and oil hitting them full force. it's grounding. it always is. food after a stage, after a moment like this? it feels almost ritualistic.

“hey now,” she says, feigning offense as she holds up a hand, “don’t disrespect the sacred right of the leader donut. but,” she adds, more quietly, bumping her knuckles against hana’s jacket, “...i’ll share. only with you though. the rest of them can fight over leftovers.”

she doesn’t miss the subtle smile creeping onto hana’s face, and it makes her own widen.

“deal,” she says, not even pretending to argue. “but only if it’s the kind with that stretchy cheese. the kind that makes it look like we’re doing food CFs even when we’re just trying to eat.”

at hana’s last words, her eyes flick up toward the edges of her hair poking out from under her hoodie, and then toward the few onlookers in the crowd pretending not to stare. heejin makes a soft sound of agreement in her throat, nodding.

“yeah,” she says. “i know a spot. back behind the food stalls— i saw some empty benches earlier. it’s not completely private, but... it’s enough.” maybe.

a beat passes, quiet in the bustle of the festival, and she adds, tone teasing but fond: “but we’re still posting food pics later. no matter how private it is. leader privilege.”

hi, idols! as an apology for the pause in operations on the main and the lack of monthly schedules, we come bearing gifts... an ask meme! this isn't the honesty hour that was mentioned a while back (as that will be used as part of our next event), but we think it'll still be lots of fun. check under the cut for all the details!

she can't hide the smile that creeps up on her face as she stares out the window as they approach seokchon lake for the festival. while she never got scared of performing in front of people, she had to admit that sometimes, just sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder if there was somebody in the crowd that may have left a hate comment about them back when that was a regular thing to do.

turning her head at her leader's voice, she gave her a firm nod. "totally fine," jiho says and she actually means it. "maybe they just want to see your pretty smile." with that, she leaned over to bring up the corners of heejin's lips before plastering a wide grin on her face as well.

jiho lets out a faux dramatic gasp as hands fly all around them. staff members are trying to get some last minute fixes in to their makeup and outfits while the soundcrew is checking their mic packs. "two? you spoil me too much," she stated with a chuckle.

"deal. we're going to absolutely rock this performance." she understands why heejin's trying to hard to assure that jiho's feeling well with all the concerns and worries she's poured out to her before this comeback. however, it's been proven that they won't be one-hit wonders, and that's enough for jiho to be confident that they'll definitely get back up on their feet.

“flattery before a festival,” she muses, tapping one manicured nail against her mic pack like she’s thinking it over. “i see you’re pulling out all the stops.” but her smile’s already blooming in full, no coaxing needed. she doesn’t say it, but it means something—to hear jiho sound genuinely okay. to see that nervous energy finally smooth out into something steadier.

she swats gently at the air near jiho’s shoulder as the other lets out her dramatic gasp. “yeah, well. you deserve two cookies. but don’t let it go to your head,” she warns, even as she’s clearly amused. “you pull that pouty look one more time and i might toss in a whole bakery. we can’t have that.”

they’re surrounded by noise—muffled commands, static checks, the hum of excitement rising just outside—but she blocks it all out for a second, tipping her head toward jiho, voice quieter now. “you’re right. we are going to rock this. no one-hit wonder shit, okay?” she taps her knuckles once lightly against jiho’s knee. “you’re solid. you’ve always been solid. i think the crowd’s gonna know that by the end of tonight.”

a beat passes, then she adds, “…but if you do mess up, i’m blaming it on the cookie. too many thoughts of sugar, too much chaos.”

"only once?" she teases, bumping her shoulder into heejin’s in return. "that means you’re getting better." her steps are still light, like her body hasn’t realized it’s allowed to rest now. that's not too surprising for someone who spends so much of her spare time practicing, rehearsing, chasing perfection like it's instinct. but her heart? it’s flying, still spinning from the rush of it all. and walking beside heejin, snack in hand, petals in the air? it feels almost too perfect, like a scene pulled from a dream.

and then comes the compliment. it's casual, but jieun's in too good of a mood to treat it as such. she doesn’t say thanks. doesn’t really know how to without her voice cracking a little or sounding too serious at the moment. instead, she shifts the hotteok in her hands, thumb brushing over the warm paper, and lets her gaze drops for just a second. there's always been this quiet understanding between them. because of that, the words hang there, light but sincere, and jieun can feel them settling somewhere just under her ribs.

if she lets herself respond, she knows she’ll get weird about it. say something too earnest and revealing. something like 'i don't think i’d feel proud of myself no matter how much i work i put in, but i trust you,' or 'i think i only pushed through because i knew you would be.'

and she could say those things, but her throat tightens and her stomach flips just imagining it. so instead, she takes a bite of her hotteok. a small one. a clear attempt to stall and give herself something to focus on instead of her feelings. the filling’s still warm, but she barely notices. her eyes stay fixed ahead, a faint pink coloring the tips of her ears—cheeks too, probably. jieun shoots a quick glance sideways, her smile turning a little crooked. "i’ll be doing the journal thing then. in glitter pen too. makes it very official."

there’s something a little smug about her grin—because she sees it, all of it. the shy glance, the way jieun’s voice skips over the compliment like it’s too hot to touch. but that’s fine. they’ve been doing this long enough to know when not to press. and really, heejin isn’t trying to ruin a perfectly good sugar high with a heartfelt breakdown.

(though if jieun had said any of the things she didn’t say just now—heejin probably would’ve cried and then made it her life’s mission to buy every glitter pen in korea.)

instead, she lets them walk in companionable silence for a few steps, the night air soft around them, cherry blossom petals drifting down like they’re in some kind of music show ending fairy tale. the moment doesn’t last long, of course—not with the smell of something suspiciously fried tugging at her senses.

jieun says pink, and heejin’s already veering toward a stall she knows is a bad idea.

“that one,” she says, pointing toward what looks like… deep-fried strawberry milk ice cream wrapped in cotton candy and drizzled with hot pink syrup. there are edible glitter flakes and a single gummy bear stuck right in the middle like a crown.

“i want it to rot my teeth on sight,” she declares. “if it doesn’t give me instant regret, i don’t want it.”

she glances sideways, voice dropping into a faux-serious whisper. “also, i kind of want to see you try to eat it without getting glitter on your nose.”

they're next in line now, and she turns to jieun with mock solemnity, clasping her shoulder like she’s about to send her into war. “no going back now. we’re already halfway into the sugar spiral. we’ll just... do damage control later. eat some protein. drink some hot tea. pretend we didn’t each consume three separate types of processed pink.”