BITCHES BROKEN HEARTS

Seona was right, but Dahye was impulsive at best, not double checking the information before coming here. She hadn’t expected to arrive and see there were other weddings happening, she had no idea so many people were getting married lately, but marriage was never a thought that occupied her mind. Expecting to be right and hoping for the best, she simply scanned the place to find a table in the back where they could be somehow hidden where they could sit once she talked to the bride. There was no more after that, she hadn’t planned that much.

Laugher bubbled up from her throat and she grinned at the beautiful soloist, incredibly grateful for having a friend like Seona in her life. Someone else would have tried to talk her out of this, to remind her of all the reasons why this was such a terrible idea. Instead, Seona had dolled up and come here with her, and that was all that mattered to her. “I already know the love of my life, Seona. You’re here.” Her best friend was the love of her life, everyone else was just people that made her life better. Besides, admitting that she loved her friend was easier than admitting there was someone else in her mind. Weddings were weird, the idea of accepting to be with someone forever scared her a little, it was a promise she didn’t know she was capable of fulfilling.

As they walked across the room, Dada noticed some people looked at them, and probably recognized them. Oh shit. Well, they were there already. Guiding Seona through the room and into a hallway, she finally saw a room, large windows and too many flowers, and in the middle of all of it, a woman in a white dress. “Let’s go.” It was now or never, and for the first time ever since she had seen the tweet, she realized that it had been incredibly reckless. It was on brand. Knowing softly on the open door, Dada give the young woman a bright grin. “Hi! I’m guessing you’re Jieun.” There wasn’t any yelling, which was always a good sign on Dada’s book, only a look of surprise, could be shock, and silence that was soon broken by a soft ‘Oh my God’.

essentially, when you strip the entire idea down to the alabaster-coloured bone you’re left with  the sudden realization that it’s a bad plan, a reckless thought, and yet simultaneously a noble intention, something unworthy of deep criticism and judgment — and dada, her darling dada is a firecracker kept in a jar, so beautiful and bright that it would be a sin to contain all the sparks inside; that’s why you must always toss the lid aside, let it be lost, hidden and forgotten. let her shine, forever and always, let her leave a vestige of pure happiness and joy no matter where she goes. however, it’s dada’s following declaration that reminds the raven-haired girl of why she adores her so profoundly, why she finds herself at a loss for words in her presence. 

“dada stop it, you’ll spoil me too much with your words,” love, it seems, comes so easily to dahye; perhaps it is true that the more you give, the more you receive in return — and of course, seona loves her too, it goes without a saying, a fact as tedious as someone reminding others that the sky above is blue. but seona is different, guarded, torturously used to keeping things to herself; it could be said that her affections are like little birds, trapped in gilded cages, forever dreaming of freedom. “do you think that you’ll have to sing at this wedding? actually, do you plan on singing at this wedding, dada?”  

When: 20.08.08 | 3:29 PM Where: Somewhere in Gangnam Who: @seonavld

It wasn’t like Dahye had opened her eyes that morning and decided to do this. In fact, it had been a quiet morning where all she had done was to scroll through Twitter and watch a movie on Netflix. Finding the tweet had been an accident, a coincidence if she wanted to give it a nice name, but the idea had come into mind and she couldn’t take it out. After that, all it took was one call and some convincing, and suddenly they had been on their way to a wedding venue. Dada knew she should have asked her manager first, but QT had done so much for her than her showing up at one of their weddings didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Because of that, she needed her partner in crime, and because she couldn’t imagine doing anything like this without Seona, the gorgeous soloist was with her as they walked into the building. She had found by accident a QT’s account, with a thread talking about her wedding, and reading though her tweets, she had found out the day, the place and the hour, and while she thought it was a bit dangerous to share that much information on the internet, it still had worked in her favor.

“I think it’s here,” she told her friend as she took her hand in hers and led her towards an open door. People were already inside, and she hoped they wouldn’t catch anyone’s before she figured out where the bride’s room was so she could talk to her before staying. It was her big day after all, and Dada just wanted to be there for one of her fans like they had always been there for her. “I don’t remember the last time I went to a wedding.”

mad, reckless, but at the same time foolishly tenderhearted and caring; these are the reasons that make saying no to dahye such an unachievable dream. the soloist’s initial proposition was and still is to put it mildly thoroughly insane, in certain ways even dangerous, a proper ode to impetuousness. yet seona has to admit that dahye is a smooth operator, a sleek negotiator, capable of entwining her into a skillfully crafted web of baffling ideas — and despite both of them being more than capable of taking care of themselves, a peculiar sort of uneasiness haunts her beneath her skin, reminding her to be cautious.

“to be fair, you’re the one who’s supposed to know if this is the right location or not. i just hope that people here won’t recognize me,” the dark-haired girl voices her concern, lapsing into silence as she catches a glimpse of herself in a nearby mirror; she’s dressed in a navy blue suit, a colour that thankfully makes it easier for her to melt into the crowd of unfamiliar guests, and yet it’s conspicuously evident that her little ensemble still showcases her signature gracefulness as she preens for a split second, the very observation mitigating most of her concerns. 

You keep them a stranger, a stranger who’s a friend.

                      If there’s something that waters Sujee’s mouth, that thing is desserts. When something is forbidden you’re even more eager to get a taste from it, and those delicious sugary confections are the girl’s Eden garden apple. There are sugar-free combos she ate from time to time but where’s the fun in that? Sugar-free chocolate is a mouthful of bitterness and Sujee’s personality is already bitter enough to handle that.Still, those macarons look so pretty and delightful, the almond smell driving the girl insane and making her leave out angry groans since she knows she can’t take the smallest bite from it. There are all sorts of allergic reactions and Sujee’s allergy to saccharose was a great level 2, where red wounds, which looked like bee-stung, appeared all over her body and she couldn’t stop scratching them for hours. If she scratches, however, it only gets worse and she’ll need to take heavy antibiotics for 14 days straight, which will make her entire body hold a lot of water, causing bloody inflation and weight gain on her cheeks and under her chin. Not a cute look, especially for someone that makes a living out of it’s image. 

                      “Unnie…” she started, arms moving in circles as she stirred the passion fruit mousse “I know I promised to help you but don’t you think baking 100 macarons is…too much?” her eyes traveled across the kitchen towards @seonavld​ petite figure. She isn’t going to say that they’re friends but Sujee can’t say no for someone that knew her since she was nine years old. Seungyong and Seona were the only people she had when she entered KMG back in 2009 and even if she didn’t keep much contact with the later when she left the company, Sujee is still thankful for all the things they did back then, so she just can’t say no for any of their requests. 

                    “ I told you that if you’re stressed I can follow you to your shopping shenanigans, and I promise I won’t judge this time.” Well, she won’t judge too much.

she’s always been a work in progress, that girl who bears the name ahn seona, a rose that nearly withered away and then became sangria red again, creating a true self-portrait of growth and change and everlasting reinvention. just seven years ago she barely knew how to hold a whisk, let alone how to bake something, but like the age-old cliché goes, it’d taken a bad man to change her for good. no. that is actually and strikingly false, for she’d never given junsu that much power over her own life. it’s funny how she still remembers those bygone years, but of course she does and more vividly than she’d like, and they’re always in black and white, tainted and tarnished, harrowing reminders of much darker times that play in slow motion. look at yourself in the mirror, seona, look how far you’re truly come and—  there, she stops the sudden train of thoughts and reaches across the kitchen table for a small bottle of pink food colouring, dark eyes quickly scanning over the content before handing it to the younger girl. “sujee darling, i don’t remember asking for your opinion. 100 macaroons is practically nothing and furthermore, it’s for a good cause,” she cants her head and clicks her tongue in a disapproving manner — and she knows that her stubbornness is beginning to show, her most infamous flaw, which she adamantly considers one of her best qualities. 

“what are you talking about? my shopping shenanigans? that’s pure nonsense,” she pointedly ignores sujee’s implication, plucking a fresh raspberry out of a plastic container and popping it into her mouth with a lackadaisical shrug of her shoulders, but as much as she’d like to deny it, there’s a certain dose of truth in sujee’s words, a truth that reverberates far more loudly than it should. “it’s called retail therapy, little girl, but i don’t think that it can help me anymore.”   

“so more stirring and less complaining. i have no tolerance for lazy people.” 

When: 20.08.08 | 07:15 PM Where: Wedding venue Who: @seonavld

She brought the glass of champagne to her lips and took a sip, feeling fancier than she actually was, but it was a special day and Dahye was good at pretending. There was music playing in the background, some people dancing, cheerful voices, and the happy couple smiling like it was the best day of their lives. Hell, it probably was. And Dahye couldn’t be happier. Placing the glass back on the table, she reached for her second piece of cake. It was too good to only eat one, and she told herself that she could eat as much as she wanted because it was her father’s wedding, a day she once thought would never come.

The cake was good and her mood was better than it had been in a long time, she was just happy and couldn’t hide it. Besides, her date was the most gorgeous person around, and if she wasn’t the luckiest person because of tat, then Dada didn’t know anymore. She smiled at Seona, who had been awesome by accepting the invitation and of course for coming here as her date. Her father had told her to pick one, so she did, and he couldn’t really say anything because Dada had done as told.

“We should go to weddings more often, they’re fun. Not when you’re part of the planning, that as tiring and boring, but this is nice.” She brought another piece of her mouth, sighing at the delicious taste. “This is so good.”

amongst all the radiant, elated and nearly consumed by dance people, seona is one of the few that sits still, nearly entranced by the picturesque scene unfolding right before her eyes. she looks at the bride and the way her smile twists her lips, and then at the groom, bewitched by their exchanged looks; quick glimpses that says i want to look at you until the end of my days. perhaps she's always been this awfully tenderhearted, unwisely sentimental, susceptible to love despite her usual cold front — and looking back on it now, it’s her music that betrays her, all the love songs. yet upon hearing dahye speak, she blinks, the only outward tell of her momentary lapse in attention, profoundly grateful for the distraction as she's certain she would've become misty-eyed in no time.

“dada, since when do you know so many people who are getting married? is there something you're not telling me?” she questions, breath coming from parted lips as a soft chuckle. “it is nice. no, actually it’s beautiful. i usually don't attend most weddings due to my busy schedule, but now i feel like that's just an excuse...” she mutters, speaking slowly, as if she's trapped in a jar of honey, immersed in a dense and golden pond. “and to be honest, i've never been a big fan of weddings. i suppose it's because i've always refused to believe that it’s possible to love someone so deeply, with your entire heart.” for most of her life, it tasted like false hope, a saccharine fantasy for little girls who knew nothing of reality.