#gyuri

The classroom buzzed with the faint whispers of students exchanging notes and furtive glances at their phones. You sat slouched at the back, staring blankly at your open notebook, the pages still pristine except for a single doodle in the corner: a coffee cup. You idly tapped your pen against the desk, your thoughts drifting far from the lecture.

“Mr. Kang Junho!”

The sharp voice of your Professor Min snapped You back to reality. The room fell silent, and all eyes turned toward you. You straightened, blinking rapidly as the professor leveled a stern gaze at you from the podium.

“Care to join us in this riveting discussion, or are you busy solving life’s great mysteries back there?” Professor Min’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.

“Uh, no, sir. I mean, yes, I’m listening,” You stammered, scratching the back of your neck. A few chuckles rippled through the classroom.

Satisfied, the professor adjusted his glasses and continued, pacing slowly across the front of the room. “As I was saying, today’s topic is about myths and their reflection of humanity. Take, for instance, the legend of the Promised Nine.”

The room quieted, the students now leaning in slightly. Professor Min always had a way of making even the dullest of topics sound compelling.

“Long ago, during a time when humanity was steeped in chaos, war, and unrelenting greed, there was a king—a wise man, yet weary of the barbarism that plagued his people. No matter how many treaties he signed or how many battles he fought, peace was fleeting. He despaired, knowing that humanity’s greatest enemy was not the sword but the emotions that drove men to wield it: pride, envy, wrath, greed, gluttony, sloth, lust, apathy, deceit…”

Junho’s attention perked up. There was something strangely familiar about the words, though you couldn’t place why.

“So the king, in his desperation, climbed the tallest mountain in the land to plead with the deity who ruled the heavens. He begged for salvation, not for himself, but for humanity. The deity listened, moved by the king’s earnestness. But salvation comes with a cost.”

Professor Min paused dramatically, glancing at his captivated audience. “A promise was made—a sacred pact between the king and the deity. Aid would be sent to humanity, not as armies or riches, but as nine beings, each representing the most volatile of human emotions. Their purpose? To keep the balance of these forces, preventing anyone from consuming the world.”

He walked over to the whiteboard and wrote the words The Promised Nine in bold letters.

“But there was a catch,” he continued. “The deity warned the king that these emotions, though tempered, could never truly be eradicated. The Promised Nine would struggle with the very forces they were meant to contain. And should even one of them fall to the temptation of their burden…”

Professor Min trailed off, his gaze sweeping the room.

“What would happen?” a student near the front blurted, unable to resist.

“Should one of the Nine succumb, their emotion would consume them entirely, turning them into a force of destruction. And that destruction could spread unchecked, tipping the scales and plunging the world into chaos once more. To prevent this, the Deity decreed that the Nine would be connected to a chosen mortal—an anchor. This anchor would serve as their confidant, grounding them when the weight of their burden became too great to bear.”

He turned back to the whiteboard, writing in large, bold letters: The Promised Nine.

“The anchor is as important as the Nine themselves,” he said. “Without them, the balance could not be maintained. The king agreed to the Diety’s terms, knowing full well the cost. And thus, the Promised Nine came into being.”

Professor Min stepped back from the board, his expression somber. “But the Diety’s warning still lingers in the echoes of time: no balance lasts forever. The story of the Promised Nine reminds us that humanity’s greatest strength—and its greatest threat—lies within ourselves.”

The shrill ring of the bell echoed through the room, breaking the spell. Students began packing their bags, the hum of chatter returning.

“Read chapters six through eight for next week!” Professor Min called over the noise.

You gathered your things slowly, the tale still turning over in your mind. As you slung your bag over your shoulder and made your way to the door, you muttered to yourself, “Promised Nine, huh? Sounds like something out of a fantasy novel.”

—

You exit the lecture hall, slipping into the stream of students flowing out into the bustling campus courtyard. The sun dips low in the sky, casting long shadows and a warm orange glow over everything. You glance at your watch—just enough time to get to your part-time job.

The café isn’t far, a cozy little spot just outside the university gates. Its charming wooden sign, Golden Brew, sways slightly in the breeze. The place is always busy, a favorite among students and faculty alike. But there’s one reason it stands out from the dozens of other coffee shops around: its owner, Gyuri.

You push through the door, greeted by the familiar hum of chatter, clinking cups, and the hiss of the espresso machine. The café smells like roasted beans and freshly baked pastries—a comforting combination that feels like a second home.

“Junho, you’re late!”

The voice is soft yet commanding, and you immediately straighten, turning to the counter. There she is—Gyuri, the radiant owner of Golden Brew. Her beauty is the kind that leaves people momentarily breathless. stood effortlessly graceful in her casual white t-shirt and mint-green cap, her gentle features framed by stray strands of hair and a gaze as warm as the morning sun

“I-I’m sorry, Ms. Gyuri,” you stammer, bowing slightly as you head toward the staff room to put your bag away.

“It’s fine, just don’t make a habit of it, okay?” she replies, her voice as warm as the golden light streaming through the café windows.

“Yes, of course!” you reply quickly, though you can’t shake the sense of unease you always feel around her.

It’s not fear, exactly. Gyuri is unfailingly warm and generous. She treats her staff like family, remembers the names of regulars, and always has a smile for everyone who walks through the door. Still, you find yourself hyper-aware of her moods, as though disappointing her might lead to something far worse than a lecture.

When you emerge from the staff room in your apron, Gyuri is already behind the counter, expertly steaming milk for a cappuccino. “Can you handle table seven’s order? They’ve been waiting a bit.”

You grab the tray, carefully balancing two lattes and a slice of cheesecake, weaving your way through the maze of tables. It’s almost automatic at this point—sidestepping bags, dodging half-turned chairs—but when you reach the corner table, you stop.

She’s there.

Seoyeon.

She’s a regular, not a student or faculty, just... always here. You’ve seen her enough times to notice the details: the dark circles under her eyes, natural and striking, framing her otherwise delicate features. She’s beautiful in a way that sneaks up on you—her sleepy, almost lazy demeanor masks something deeper.

She’s hunched over her laptop, typing slowly, as if testing each word before committing to it. The oversized navy shirt drapes over her frame, and her hair carelessly tied, some falls messily around her face. You set the tray down gently, not wanting to disturb whatever she’s working on.

“Thanks,” she mutters without looking up, her voice soft, almost as if she’s halfway to falling asleep.

You nod, even though she doesn’t see it, and glance at her screen. It’s filled with text—lines upon lines of words you can’t make sense of from this angle. Stories, maybe? Essays? You don’t know, and it’s not your place to ask.

As you turn to leave, she stretches, her movements slow and languid, like she has all the time in the world. For a moment, you wonder what keeps her coming back here, day after day, to sit in that same spot, typing away.

But you shake the thought off. You’ve got other tables to serve.

.You make your way back behind the counter, tray in hand. It’s a small relief to retreat to this spot, even if only for a few moments. Manning the cashier is easier—less weaving between tables, fewer chances to trip or spill something. The register beeps softly as you organize receipts and prepare for the next wave of customers.

The door opens, and the atmosphere in the café shifts. It’s subtle, like a faint breeze stirring through a room, but you notice it immediately. Heads turn—students and faculty alike—and conversations falter as if someone hit pause.

You glance up and freeze.

Jiheon.

Her name is spoken in hushed tones across campus, her presence both admired and untouchable. She moves with an effortless grace that feels out of place in the mundane setting of the café, her bright smile commanding attention without even trying. But it’s her eyes that hold you—the way they curve into crescent moons with a hint of something sharper, more mischievous, just beneath the surface.

To your utter disbelief, she walks directly to the counter. Your counter.

“Hi there,” she says, her voice smooth and casual, like she’s greeting an old friend. Her gaze locks onto yours, and her smile widens slightly. “You’re Junho, right?”

You blink, caught so off guard that you almost drop the pen in your hand. “Uh… yeah?” Your answer comes out as more of a question than a confirmation.

Her smile grows, as if your awkwardness amuses her. “Thought so. I’m Jiheon.” She leans in just slightly, resting one hand on the counter. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Your wariness kicks in. Jiheon—the Jiheon—is talking to you? Asking for your name? It feels like the kind of thing that only happens to other people. Your eyes flick briefly to Gyuri at the other end of the counter. She’s busy steaming milk, not even sparing a glance in Jiheon’s direction.

“Nice to meet you,” you manage, your voice steadier this time, though your thoughts are racing. “Uh, caramel macchiato?” You blurt the question out more out of instinct than anything else.

Her laugh is light, lilting, but there’s something playful in it, like she’s already decided you’re her new source of entertainment. “Hmm. Good guess,” she teases, tapping a finger against the counter. “Sure, I’ll have that. But I’m impressed you remembered. I didn’t think I was that predictable.”

You feel your face heat up, fumbling to punch her order into the register. “It’s not that, I just—uh—” You stop, realizing anything you say will just dig you deeper.

She watches you, clearly enjoying the way you stumble over your words. “Relax, Junho,” she says, her tone soft but undeniably amused. “I’m just messing with you.”

Handing her the receipt, you attempt a smile. “Coming right up.”

Instead of moving to find a seat, she lingers by the counter, her eyes drifting lazily around the café before landing back on you. “Nice place. Gyuri’s done a great job here, hasn’t she?”

Your gaze flicks to Gyuri again. Still busy. Still not looking this way. “Yeah, she has,” you reply, keeping your voice neutral.

Jiheon tilts her head, her smile still firmly in place. “You two seem close,” she muses, her tone light but probing. “Gyuri’s lucky to have someone like you helping her out.”

The way she says it makes you feel like she’s toying with you, testing your reaction. “I just do what I can,” you say cautiously.

Her eyes light up, as if you’ve said something particularly amusing. “I bet you do.” She straightens up and takes a step back. “Well, Junho, it’s been… enlightening.” Her smile takes on an almost cat-like quality. “Thanks for the drink. I’ll be around.”

As she walks away to find a seat, the tension in your shoulders eases, but her presence lingers like a shadow. You glance at Gyuri one last time, hoping for some kind of reaction, but she’s focused on the drinks in front of her, her usual calm smile in place.

And yet, for just a moment, you swear there’s something almost knowing in the way she glances at Jiheon’s retreating figure..

—

The bell above the door jingles as the last customer leaves, and you let out a long breath, leaning against the counter. The café feels different now—quiet, peaceful, but heavy with the lingering scent of coffee and pastries. It’s nighttime, and the warm glow of the overhead lights gives the empty space a cozy but slightly eerie feel.

“Good job today, Junho,” Gyuri says, flashing you one of her signature warm smiles as she locks the cash register.

“Thanks, Ms. Gyuri,” you reply, your voice softer than usual in the now-empty café.

After finishing up your closing duties—wiping down tables, stacking chairs, and sweeping the floors—you grab your jacket and step out into the cool night air. The streets are quieter now, with only a few scattered groups of students heading home. You adjust your backpack, your thoughts already drifting toward the comfort of your cramped boarding room.

As you turn a corner, someone bumps into you.

“Ah, sorry,” you mumble automatically, stepping back.

The girl doesn’t even glance up, her eyes glued to her phone. She’s wearing what looks like an e-sport jersey jacket, its bold colors contrasting with the dark street. Her brown hair catches the ambient glow of the streetlights, faintly shining as she moves past you. For a brief moment, her face is illuminated, and it’s enough to leave an impression.

She’s stunning.

Before you can fully process it, your impulse kicks in. You take a step forward, clearing your throat. “Hey, uh, I’m Junho...”

But she doesn’t respond. Her focus remains solely on the screen of her phone, and she keeps walking, oblivious to your presence.

You stand there for a second, feeling a bit foolish, then shake your head. The image of her lingers in your mind as she disappears into the night, leaving you with nothing but the quiet hum of the street.

When you finally reach your room, you fumble with your keys and push the door open. It’s as small and cramped as ever, but it’s yours. You toss your jacket onto the single chair by the desk, only to realize something’s missing. Your bag. You groan, running a hand through your hair. You must’ve left it at the café in your rush to leave. There’s no helping it—you’ll have to go back.

The walk feels longer this time, the quiet streets amplifying the sound of your footsteps. As you get closer, a strange unease settles in your chest. The air feels heavier, the streetlights casting elongated shadows that seem to move just out of sync with your steps. Your skin prickles, as if something unseen is watching.

When you reach the café, you notice something strange. Cars are parked outside. Not just any cars—luxury vehicles, sleek and expensive, the kind you’d expect to see in a high-end district, not outside a cozy student café. Their polished exteriors gleam under the soft glow of the streetlights, each one a testament to sophistication and taste.

Your gaze drifts across the lineup, catching details that feel oddly personal. A jet-black SUV, imposing and understated. A sapphire blue Porsche, sharp and vibrant, eerily luring you in. Your eyes stop briefly on a compact car that feels out of place among the giants—a Mini Cooper. Its emerald green paint shimmers, the kind of green that feels rich and alive, paired with racing stripes that speak of personality rather than pure extravagance. It’s less ostentatious but undeniably stylish, a subtle standout among its peers.

As you approach, an inexplicable resistance builds inside you, like a pressure against your chest. Your feet feel heavier, your thoughts fuzzier, and for a brief moment, you consider turning around. The café seems distant, almost unreal, like it’s shifting away even as you step closer. But you shake it off, forcing yourself forward.

You head to the backdoor, fishing out the spare key Gyuri gave you for emergencies. Pushing it open, you step into the staff area and spot your bag right where you left it. Relieved, you sling it over your shoulder and turn to leave.

That’s when you hear it.

The faint jingle of the front doorbell breaks the silence, followed by muffled voices.

You freeze. The café should be empty, but there’s a light seeping through the crack of the door leading to the main lobby. Slowly, you step closer, curiosity outweighing caution.

Peeking through the door, you see her.

She steps inside like she owns the air she breathes, her presence commanding yet effortless. Her long, jet-black hair cascades down her back, perfectly straight, with sharp bangs framing her face. Under the glow of the café lights, her striking blue eyes seem almost unnatural, as if they were cut from the sky itself.

For a moment, her gaze sweeps the café, and then it lands directly on you.

Your heart skips a beat. You’re sure you’ve been caught—your face heats up, and you’re ready to stammer some excuse about being here after hours. But her expression doesn’t shift.

Her lips curl into a smile, slow and deliberate, as if she’s been waiting for this very moment. It’s the kind of smile that feels personal, like it holds a secret meant only for you.

But then, as quickly as her eyes found yours, they slid away.

It’s deliberate—you’re certain of that. She must have seen you. And yet, she acts as if you’re invisible, as if your presence is of no consequence. She turns, her hair sweeping behind her like a silk curtain, and addresses the others in the room.

From your hidden vantage point, you take in the scene.

The café, which should have been empty, is instead alive with movement. A group of women fills the space, each one radiating an aura of distinct confidence and beauty. They aren’t just sitting or lounging; they seem to command the room, transforming it into something that feels foreign, almost sacred.

“Chaeyoung,” one of the women calls out, her tone both teasing and sharp, “you’re late.”

Your eyes dart to the source of the voice, and your breath catches—it’s her. The same woman you bumped into earlier, the one engrossed in her phone. She’s still wearing that e-sport jersey jacket, looking as effortlessly confident as she had before.

“And Nagyung? You’re not late?” Chaeyoung fires back, her tone teasing, her smile sharper now.

The casual banter between them feels like watching something private, yet you can’t look away.

Your gaze shifts to the rest of the table. The initial shock of seeing Chaeyoung fades as you take in the others, each of them equally striking in their presence. You almost stumble backward when you spot familiar faces.

Gyuri, whose warmth you’ve come to rely on, sits with an unfamiliar coolness about her. Her brow is furrowed, a faint trace of annoyance crossing her usually gentle features. It sharpens her striking appearance, making her seem like someone you’ve never truly known. There's a tension in her posture that makes you feel like you're seeing a side of her that’s been hidden until now.

Seoyeon leans lazily toward the women beside her, her relaxed posture contrasting the air of composure around the table.

The woman Seoyeon is leaning into feels strangely familiar, as if you should recognize her. She matches the others in beauty, her jet-black hair framing a delicate face. A soft smile plays at her lips, radiating warmth and charm. With luminous skin and deep, expressive eyes, she exudes an effortless elegance that captivates without even trying.

And as if that weren’t enough to leave you reeling, on the other side of the table, you recognize Lee Saerom.

The Saerom. The top celebrity, known for her flawless visuals and commanding performances.

Sitting next to her is Song Hayoung, the famous songwriter and soloist whose music dominates every chart. 

They’re casually leaning into the conversation, as though their combined fame and aura aren’t enough to make this room the most exclusive place in the city.

“Is Jiwon not here yet?” Chaeyoung asks as she slips into a seat, her voice nonchalant, but her eyes scanning the room with interest.

The front doorbell jingles, and the door swings open.

“I’m here!!” a bright, piercing voice calls out.

Your head swivels toward the source, and there she is. Jiwon, bounding through the entrance like a whirlwind of energy, her grin lighting up the room before her words even have a chance.

“Jisun, did you bring food?” Jiwon’s question comes rapid-fire, her tone playful but undeniably demanding.

The woman Seoyeon was leaning into rose. She moves with calm precision, her composure stark against Jiwon’s lively presence.

"Of course, I brought food. Wouldn’t want you to starve." Jisun says, her voice soft but firm, as she produces a stack of containers seemingly out of nowhere. She places them on the table, the gesture practiced, as though she had been anticipating the request long before it was asked.

It hits you then. Roh Jisun. The world-famous chef. Known for her culinary brilliance and beauty. You've seen her multiple times before in magazines, tv, or online articles. You can hardly believe she's here, so close, exuding an effortless elegance.

“Can we finally get started? I still have to clean up after all of you,” Gyuri complained, her annoyance clear.

Now that the group had gathered, all eyes shifted to Saerom, who was waiting for their attention.

“Our youngest is losing control,” Saerom began.

“We all constantly are,” Nagyung shrugged off the concern.

“This isn't the same, you know that,” Saerom replied firmly.

“Don’t try to ignore these meetings, Nagyung. I’m losing millions just being here,” Jiwon said, flaunting her wealth.

“Must be nice having all those millions,” Hayoung remarked. While her gaze focuses on the only fork on the table, in the hands of Chaeyoung.

“You’re a millionaire too. Why are you eyeing my money?” Jiwon shot back defensively.

“Ahem!… Losing control?” Gyuri steered the conversation back on track.

Saerom, now commanding their full attention, spoke with purpose.

“We need to consider finally finding an anchor.”

“Then we’ll get an anchor. Meeting is done,” Soyeon said with a yawn, stretching.

Charyoung, still twirling the fork between her fingers, smirked. “Do we have to? I’ve been liking her attitude recently.”

“It’s time,” Saerom replied, her tone serious. “We can’t risk it. If deceit consumes her…”

“It will consume all of us,” Gyuri finished, her voice dark.

You stay frozen, trying to make sense of the conversation. Consume? Anchor? Deceit? The weight of their words sinks in, and though you know you should leave, something keeps you rooted to the spot. The truth behind their cryptic conversation is just out of reach.

Then, without warning, a soft voice whispered near your ear.

“Curiosity can be dangerous, you know.”

You nearly jump out of your skin, spinning around to find Jiheon standing inches away, her signature eye-smile curved upward in amusement. You’re certain she wasn’t there a second ago. How could she have gotten so close without making a sound?

“Wha—how—?” you stammer, instinctively taking a step back, only to hear the door creak open behind you.

Seoyeon, now fully awake, leans forward slightly, her drowsy facade giving way to genuine surprise. “How did he get here?” she asks, her voice carrying a rare edge of curiosity. Her eyes scan you, but it’s not just scrutiny—it’s disbelief, almost as if you’re some kind of anomaly.

“Who’s this?” Nagyung asks, clearly not remembering you.

“Junho,” Gyuri says softly, her voice now laced with concern and confusion. “How are you here?” Her warm demeanor has returned that almost makes you feel safe. Almost.

Your mind scrambles for an explanation, but Jiheon, ever calm, steps forward, her gaze fixed on you as if she’s reading your very thoughts.

“He overheard,” Jiheon says simply, her tone neither accusatory nor dismissive.

“Clearly” Jiwon crosses her arms, her lively energy dampened by suspicion. “Why did you let him through?”

Jiheon doesn’t answer. Instead, she steps forward, closing the already narrow distance between the two of you. Her eyes glint with an eerie amusement, her head tilting slightly as she examines you like a puzzle she’s just begun to piece together.

“Regardless of how,” Saerom says, her voice cutting through the murmurs and drawing every gaze. She rises slowly, her commanding presence quieting the room once more. “What matters is why. What did he hear?”

“I didn’t mean to listen!” you blurt out, your voice shaky as you raise your hands in defense. “I—I just came back for my bag, and then I heard voices, and—”

“And stopped to eavesdrop,” Chaeyoung interrupts, her voice playful but her eyes uncomfortably sharp.

“No! I mean—yes, but not like that!” you stammer, feeling the weight of their collective stares crushing you. “It’s not what you think! I swear I won’t tell anyone!”

Gyuri sighs, stepping closer. “Junho, you don’t understand. This... what you’ve heard... it’s not something you can just walk away from.”

“I don’t know how you got through the mist ” Jisun adds, her tone firm but not unkind. “But this isn’t something just anyone can know.”

“Maybe,” Chaeyoung says, her lips curving into a sly smile, “he’s not ‘just anyone.’”

“Enough.” Saerom’s single word silences the room, her authority undeniable. Her eyes pierce through you, weighing your very existence. “What’s done is done. The question now is what we do with him.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. “Wait!” you cry, your voice desperate. “I swear I won’t say anything! I don’t even understand what I heard! Just let me go, and I’ll forget everything!”

“That’s not how this works,”  Hayoung says from across the room, her voice carrying an edge as she’s now holding the fork she was eyeing earlier.

Jiheon smirks, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she takes another step closer. “Oh, Junho,” she purrs, her voice dripping with playful malice. “It’s not your fault, really. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She tilts her head, her smile widening. “But... well, it’s a little late for regrets, don’t you think?”

Her hand lifts, faint cyan light dancing at her fingertips, and you can’t tear your eyes away. The glow reflects in her eyes, making her look ethereal and otherworldly.

“Jiheon, stop!” Saerom’s voice cuts through, but Jiheon doesn’t even flinch.

“Relax,” Jiheon says lightly, her tone almost soothing as she looks at you. “I’m just helping him... rest a little.”

“Jiheon!” Saerom’s command comes sharper this time, but it’s already too late.

Jiheon’s fingers flick, the cyan light tracing an elegant pattern in the air. “Just a little nap,” she whispers, her voice lilting and playful.

The moment the light touches you, an overwhelming drowsiness washes over your body. Your knees buckle, the edges of your vision darken, and Jiheon’s playful smile is the last thing you see as the world fades to black.

a/n: Before you move one the next chapter, can you guess who's who, with their pairing emotion?

(Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, Sloth, Deceit, and Apathy)

Both of you sit on a concrete bench, sharing the same shade by the maple tree, giving enough protection from the afternoon sun. The tree itself shed its leaves, its scarlet leaves falling with grace in the crisp autumn season.

Your eyes followed a certain leaf; it kept falling until it disappeared behind her.

There, you stared at the prettiest girl you ever knew.

It’s your childhood buddy, best friend, and your first love.

Kim Minji, the woman you unconsciously loved.

“...”

“What are you staring at? You’re giving up already?” She was about to hit you one more time, and you instinctively flinched, snapping out of your daydream at just the right moment.

“Sorry, okay? Stop nagging, we’re both rookies.” You scratched the exact spot you got hit.

“Why did you insist on being my prince instead?” She picks up the book she launched at you, shaking off some dust from it.

“I just… just wanted to be the male lead!” That’s a lie.

The main reason for that was jealousy. You’re afraid to see her with another guy. You didn’t want to admit it yourself, but you can’t just deny it forever. However, you can’t plainly show it, no one knows you like her but yourself.

You’re afraid to lose her; you knew that. Most of the dramas and novels had this cowardly guy who secretly likes his girl's best friend. Yes, most of them succeed after confessing, even realizing that what they felt was mutual.

But you already thought about it. Your life isn’t a novel; you’re not a protagonist destined to be with her. The risk was high, the result may be differ than those fictions, you don’t want to lose her.

“You know that there’s a twist: the prince was wicked, right?” MInji tilts her head, as if it’s something you should already know.

“There is?” That doesn’t make sense; you don’t have any idea about it.

“Yes, Gyuri sunbae-nim added it; she thinks that twisting the story must have caught the audience in shock,” Minji said while watching the maple leaves fall.

“I didn’t know that…” Your sunbae’s twist works really well; it caught you off-guard.

“Then one more ti–” She fixed her posture.

“So! Who’s your male lead then? Are there other princes? Is the witch male? Wootch?” You can’t keep yourself from thinking about whether you should audition for another role, but which role?

“What? Wootch? What’s that?” There’s a questionable look at her face.

“A male witch?” Honestly, it just came out of your mouth.

“Wait, isn’t it also a witch? Or a warlock? A wizard?” She added more terms to consider.

“Uhh, whatever. Hey, tell me… who’s your male lead then?” You wonder if it wasn’t the prince, then who?

“I don’t know, sunbaenim didn’t tell me.” Minji shrugged her shoulders.

“Hey! One more time. This will be our first theatre play, and we’re the leads. Do you even realize how big that was? We’re rookies, remember?” She’s beaming with excitement. Her smile alone can lift every trouble you’re facing.

“Let’s just go, you know, I don’t want to be the villain if the prince were really wicked.” You should know what the lead role was.

“Oh, right. I almost forgot.” Minji stood up and grabbed her stuff. She walked her way, but stopped and waited for you.

“I thought you'd leave me.” You felt a slight relief, how much if she really left you?

“How could I? You’re my best friend!” A wind blew, maple leaves flew with it, and her hair was lightly blown with it.

Every step takes you closer to her, but your heart can’t make the same step your foot makes. It kept its distance; there’s a wall of friendship that needs to be cherished.

But what can you do?

You kept falling for her.

*****

“Sunbae! I don’t want to—” Right after you enter the club room.

“Okay! The leads are here! Get ready, hey, suit up.” Gyuri pushed you to the wardrobe side.

Jang Gyuri is a year older, but she grew up together with you and Minji. It’s still weird for you to call her a Sunbae, but formality is a must, though you aren’t scared of her as other freshmen do.

“Gyuri, I like yo—”

“No.”

Before you fell for Minji, you had a huge crush on Gyuri. But, right at the exact day you confessed, you got rejected as well with just one word. It’s one of the reasons why you’re scared of confession.

“But—” The curtain shuts, as everyone gets ready as well.

After everyone changed into their costumes, Gyuri huddled all of you for an opening talk. 

“Everyone, this will be the first play of the year. I hope no one messed this up, understand?” Gyuri’s in the middle, with her hands on her waist. She’s only a sophomore, but you can tell she’s well respected in the field.

“...”

You did not understand a thing; you didn’t even realize Gyuri was speaking.

Your eyes are just glued to one person, Minji—

“Gyuri?” You mumble, her face suddenly in front of you.

“Yes.” She said flatly.

“Gyur– oh shit! Yes! Uhh, hello— aw!” You got hit once again. What’s painful is that it was the same spot Minji hit earlier.

“Pay attention!”

“Yes, sunbaenim!” You salute, “Why are you so harsh to me? Your pretty face doesn't match that attitude.” You added, whispering enough only for Gyuri.

“I should, or else Minji will melt with your laser eyes. Should I poke it? The prince will go blind anyway.” She whispered back.

The truth is, Gyuri knows you like Minji. You didn’t tell her; she guessed it. How awkward it was to confess to her, then you’ll tell her later on that you had feelings for another girl?

“Don’t please. We know that those magical tears aren't real.” You won’t see Minji anymore if she poked your eyes. 

“Then focus.” She punched your side instead. You shriek in pain this time.

“All right! Let’s get ready!” Everyone clapped, encouraging each other.

“Hwaiting!”

“Fighting!”

“Fwaigtin— ouch, she punched too hard.” You are hobbling on your way to your post.

The first scenes by other club members went smoothly; some tripped while some forgot their lines, but the show must go on, even if it’s just a simulation.

“Alright! Now, the prince, standby.” Gyuri hooked her arms around your neck. If it happened to you a few years ago, you could’ve folded instantly.

“Yes!” You entered the scene, as charismatic as you could be.

“Minji! Minji, let down your hair, so that I may climb thy golden stairs." You were stopped by something.

Minji did as you said, dropping a prosthetic golden braid through the tower prop that’s only a few feet from the ground.

“Lovely— pweh!

“CUT! What the fu– WHY!?” Gyuri stops herself from cursing.

“There’s a lot of lint! Pweh– AWW!” You got hit again. The golden hair hits you this time, Minji wagged it from the top. That’s your third day.

“Let’s do it one more time.” Minji kept wagging her prosthetic hair; it hits you once, twice, thrice, multiple times.

“-1 hp, -1hp, -1hp…” Minji’s cute voice reached you.

“Okay, okay— AWWW! WHY DO YOU GUYS KEEP HITTING ME!?” Gyuri hits you with a rolled paper script.

“-80 hp.” Minji giggled.

“Do it properly! One more time!” Gyuri’s shout scared all of you, and you hurried back to your positions.

Another take, you said your line properly while ignoring the fuzzy threads floating in the air caused by her golden hair.

“Lovely. Let me climb— WAHH! Ouch!” The hair slipped from the top the moment you grabbed it midway.

“Cut! What happened!? Are you okay?” Gyuri rushed to you.

“Yeah… the hair gave up… I guess?” You hit the ground, butt first.

“Minji! Did you tie it properly?” Gyuri asked while helping you to stand up.

“Honestly, I forgot, sorry.” Minji’s using her cute charm; it’s your weakness.

For a second, you stared at her pretty face peeking from the tower’s window. She’s really a princess. You should go to her, like the prince needs to do.

“Whoa… do you feel it?”

“Is Gyuri sunbaenim even in the play? Or will she be at the back directing?”

“Unfortunately, she won’t appear.”

You can hear the other members’ murmurs, but you have no idea what they’re talking about.

That’s when you notice that Gyuri’s still staring at you beside you.

“Sunbae? Will we do it again?” You wonder what’s wrong. She kept staring at you and Minji.

“Huh? Yeah. We should.” Gyuri clapped and gained everyone’s attention.

“What’s that?”

“Did you see that? Sunbaenim looked at him dearly.”

“Those two actually looked good together.”

You just heard them, not realizing what they really mean. Then, you felt chills, something's coming—

“AWW!” A bag hits the back of your head from above.

“Who’s that? Huh? Minji?” There, you saw Minji observing while pouting.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” That one really hurts you. You did not do anything wrong this time, so you wonder what went wrong.

“Okay, one more time.” Gyuri clapped again and tapped your back.

“Sorry, it slipped. Bleeeh.” Minji’s acting childish, sticking her tongue out before disappearing on the tower again.

Then the scene rolled out, this time you successfully climbed the tower. There, you met Minji.

“Wow… I never thought I'd find a goddess in a place like this.” You muttered, unintentionally.

The princess outfit really suits her well; she’s the princess of your heart’s palace after all. You always thought that she was beautiful. For once, you never thought that she would wait for you to save her; it was made possible by the script.

“Did he just improvise?”

“What goddess? Isn’t she supposed to be a princess?”

“Sunbaenim, should we continue? Sunbae?”

“...”

You heard their murmur and glanced a quick look at Gyuri, she hasn’t said anything, go on.

They’re right, you most likely improvised. You admiring her beauty was in the script, but you took it too far. That’s what Minji’s beauty does to you.

“P-Princess! I heard a lovely voice coming from here a few days ago.” You said your line, though stuttering.

“W-Who are you? What are you!?” Minji’s frightened, just like the script. The princess had never seen a man in her entire life.

“Don’t fear, I’m a prince from another land.” You bowed like the royal you were supposed to be.

“Another land? Prince?” She sounds confused; her acting is so natural that it eases your tension. You’ve been with her for that long time, so you can do it casually.

“...”

You stared at her beauty once again; you can’t help it. Her beauty has its own prison; it’s capturing you whenever it can, seizing control over your heart.

You’re down bad for Minji.

“Script.” A club member whispered.

“Yes, it’s lovely, I think I have fallen… for you.” You’re hopeless, you went off script, letting your heart speak for you instead.

“Sunbae? Should we end it?”

“He wasn’t supposed to say it yet.”

“He confessed too soon!”

“...”

You still haven't heard any cuts from Gyuri.

Silence followed, as both of you and Minji looked at each other’s eyes, reflecting both images through your pupils.

“You can’t.” She rejects, and that surprises you.

The rejection wasn’t in the script either; she should’ve accepted 

“Minji…” Your heart torn to pieces.

You heard the rejection that you’re fearing.

You’re on the verge of crying; you can’t stop your emotions anymore.

“CUT!” Gyuri shouts, which snapped you.

“Hey, we messed up again— huh? Why are you crying?” Minji’s concerned.

“Huh?” You wiped the tears running down your cheek.

Right, it’s a play. But why does it feel too real for you? As if it’s telling you that you should keep those feelings in you, forever.

“You confessed too early!”

“Should’ve played it a little more.”

“But, I admit it’s good! It looks like you’re really confessing to Minji!”

“...”

Another silence followed. What they thought was the same as you, and that scared you even more. You admit to yourself that you're a coward.

“Let’s pack now. And you, no more prince. We’ll pick another one, considering you said earlier that you don't want that role.” Gyuri gestured that the practice adjourned.

“Wait, I heard the prince is wicked… is it true?” You asked Gyuri as you climbed down the tower. You purposely hurried off, leaving Minji, since she might flood you with questions.

“I’ve changed my mind.” She turned her back on you.

“Okay…? Why is she mad? Did I do— oh yeah, I messed up.” You shook your head, finally realizing what really happened.

“Bye.” Minji just walked past you.

“Hey, wait for me.” You picked up your things.

“I don’t want to.” She turned, and she looked mad.

“Hey, sorry. Okay? I’ll do better.” You clasp your hand, asking for a chance to redeem yourself.

“It’s not about the practice, it’s about the prince. You really gave up the role that easily?” She turned around and left you.

The door shut, slamming.

“What the hell did I do? I— Seriously? Gyuri? Minji? Why are they mad!?” A lot of things happened that day; it’s too much for you to process.

“Aw… I’ll get a concussion, and yet they’re the mad ones.” You added.

*****

The next day, you went straight to the club room, alone. You didn’t find Minji and Gyuri; they were probably already in the club room.

“Why am I… wait! Isn’t this too much? Why am I the tree!?” You’re wearing a full-body tree costume.

“We’ve decided that it’s better to keep you on the sidelines,” Gyuri speaks without even turning to you.

“Seriously, Gyuri… from prince to tree? You’re mad, aren't you? Sorry.” You don’t even know what you did wrong.

“It’s not just me; there are also other members who agree with this. And, it’s Sunbae for you.” She finally turned around, just to hit you.

“Aww. Okay, okay, Sunbaenim.” You noticed that her smacks weren't as hard as yesterday.

“So, Sunbaenim, who’s the new prince?” You’re really curious who replaced you. The one who’ll be with Minji.

Right after you asked, you heard him.

“Minji! Minji, let down your hair, so that I may climb thy golden stairs.” The new prince stated, and Minji did as he told.

He didn’t stutter, unlike you.

He delivered his lines well and had great chemistry with her, unlike you.

He seemed to be a perfect fit for a perfect girl like you.

“...”

“It’s just a play.” Gyuri tapped your shoulders.

“Yeah… where’s my position? Where’s the tree supposed to be?” You’re having a hard time looking around due to your massive costume.

“Here, right where you belong.” Gyuri looked at you with an unusual sincerity.

“Here? Oh, right, okay. I’ll not mess this one up.” You fixed your posture.

“Hmm.” Gyuri hummed and nodded.

You stand by the sides, playing your role. You watch her like a tree that you’re supposed to be. You just quietly stare at her beauty, listen to her heavenly voice, and admire her cute habits. But, she’s with another man— her prince.

Only wind can move you, unless someone touches you.

Just like your feelings, still motionless, being held by your fear.

You thought you’d just wait forever, hoping what you feel reflects the same with hers.

“...”

“Cut,” Gyuri said, but she’s looking at you instead of the scene.

“Nice, perfect!”

“It’s really pretty!”

“Nice one, Minji!”

“I did well, right? Sunbae? Though I just wagged my stems a few times…” You said that after she kept staring at you.

“Yes.” She clapped and garnered everyone’s attention, including Minji, who you noticed stared in your direction as well.

“Minji,” You heard the new prince call her.

He whispered something, and Minji laughed.

“He can also make her smile like that.” You thought.

In the huddle, Minji finally approached you.

“Hey, you did well. But, are you really just going to stand there?” Minji points out your position earlier.

“Yeah? Gyuri-sunbaenim told me that’s my spot. The place I belong.” You said what Gyuri told you. You just repeated exactly what she said.

“And that by her side?” Minji’s gaze is more sincere than the first time you saw it.

“Yeah? Because that’s what a tree does.” You wanted to tell her that you belong to her, but you feel like it’s unnecessary, since you’re just friends.

“Whatever.” She sticks her tongue out and shifts focus to Gyuri, who’s in the middle.

Gyuri praises the new cast, and the practice went well. She praised you as well, and everyone laughed. You joined them as well.

Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, except Minji.

You wonder if it’s still because of the role that you easily gave up.

“Minji, sorry for giving up on being the prince. I really thought he was wicked.” Your reason is valid since it’s true.

“It’s fine, I’m sorry, too… It’s just I’m mad since you let the opportunity slip.” She muttered.

“Yeah.”

Both of you shared a smile.

“Meeting’s done, thank you, everyone!”

That afternoon, everything went back to normal. Minji hitting you, Gyuri smacking you, and the three of you acting like what you're supposed to do. Best friends.

*****

A few days later, you’re walking alone to your nearest bus stop. Minji said she’ll have to accompany her mom to the grocery, so she heads home first.

“Oh! Gyuri-ya!” You spotted her on the sidewalk, playing with a stray cat.

“Shh, you scaring it— and it’s sunbae.” She’s flashed you an annoyed look before playing with the cat again.

“We’re off campus— oh, sorry.” You crouch beside her, but your arm brushes against her. You quickly apologized, though.

“...”

“How long do you keep playing with the cat?” You noticed that she stopped moving her hands and let the cat shove its body into it.

“The cat… loves me.” She mumbled.

“Yeah, it looks like it.” You played with the cat as well, but it keeps clinging to her.

“So, you can also see how the cat loves me.” She brushed its fur.

“Yeah, though, it’s evading me.” The cat does not like your touch.

“Do you know why?” She lightly turned her head to face you.

“Why?” You had no answer for that, so you'd better have it from the one who asked it.

“It’s because you can see it, obviously, just like you.” Her words have meaning, but you took time to analyze them.

“...”

“Your feelings for Minji are too obvious. Speak up.” She stood up.

“You already know why, Gyuri. I’m scared.” You stood up as well.

“Then, why did you tell me you like me? Aren’t you scared as well? That’s it, right? You're scared of losing the one you cherish if you confess.” Gyuri has her gaze fixed on you.

“Because I know you’ll understand.”

“So, you didn’t mean it at all.” She nods, realizing what you really meant.

“I– Uhhh, no, it’s no—” You stuttered, not knowing what to say.

“It’s fine.” She tapped your shoulders and walked away.

The cat walked with her, as if the cat recognized her as its new owner.

“Gyuri! Wait!” You catch up to her, walking side to side.

“Do you really like Minji?” She asked you while looking straight.

“...” You did not answer, but both of you know it really well that you do.

“I’m like talking to a wall, unresponsive, bricked, and staying still. That’s very like you, you should speak up and tell her you like her.” She said, while she noticed that you have no intention of answering her.

“But–”

“No buts. You said you confessed to me because you knew I’d understand, right? Though I don’t think you really like me then.”

“...”

She stopped walking.

You did as well.

“She’ll understand, trust her.” Gyuri smiled. 

Then she walked again, as you did earlier, you ran to catch up to her.

Minutes later, you and Gyuri sit side by side in the bus. Sharing earphones, listening to the same song. Both of you always like this, often with Minji. But everything changed when you realized that you’re falling in love with her.

Gyuri’s head suddenly rested on your shoulders, and she fell asleep.

“She’ll understand, trust her.” You remember what she said.

“Thank you.” You said to the napping Gyuri.

You’re thankful to have a friend like her.

Her words nestled in your mind, and that moved the wall of doubts and fear inches out of your heart.

******

“Good job, tree!”

“What a tree, that suits you well!”

“Stop it, he’s doing great.” Gyuri kept slapping your back.

“Seriously.” Your expression turned black, you didn’t know whether to be mad or laugh because they kept teasing you.

“Ohh, did sunbae-nim just praise him for consecutive days?”

“Actually, sunbae-nim, you two look good together.”

“Date!”

“Hey, you'd better get ready, or you’ll screw things up.” You pointed at the members who were teasing you.

“Yes, tree!” They tidied up and got ready.

“...”

Gyuri was just being her usual self, not baiting those teasing, and remained silent.

“AW!” Another thing hits you. “Golden braids— why did you hit me?” The first thing you saw was the braids; you saw Minji when you turned around.

“Tree looks really good to you! Better than being a prince.” Minji sarcastically praised you.

“Thanks, Minjizel.” You grabbed the braids and brushed them to her nose.

“yo–ACHOO! Yah!” She chased you after you successfully made her sneeze.

“Hey— stop running! Seriously…” Gyuri easily gave up when she noticed that you were happily circling.

“Come here!” Minji was laughing while she kept chasing you.

“No!” You yelled back, running for your life.

“We should make him the prince again.”

“Yeah… it looked way natural, what happened?”

“Sighed.” You heard Gyuri sigh and decided to bring her to the party.

“Oh? Yah! Why– stop–” You went to her back and used her as the shield against Minji.

“Hey! Come here! Stop hiding from her, be a man! Face me!” Minji yelled.

“...”

“...”

“...”

A loud silence in three of you followed. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The three of you went rigid and stopped laughing.

“Hey, Minji said be a man, face her,” Gyuri whispered and nudged me.

“Minj– Oh…” You flinched when she raised her hand while holding the braids.

“Sorry.” You get the braids from her hand, which she easily lets go.

“Oh… y-yeah? Okay…” Minji stuttered.

Your hands lightly brushed when you got the braids. It’s electrifying and awkward at the same time.

Knock! Knock!

“Ohh! The props are here!”

“Ohh– ouch!”

“Careful, huh? Sunbae! We’re really using real thorns?”

“Huh? Wait, did they really bring real ones?” Gyuri rushed over the newly arrived props.

“Sunbae… isn’t it dangerous?” You moved to peek from above, and the thorns you saw were real. Big and sharp.

“I’m fine with it.” The new prince stated.

“No, the problem’s not you’re fine or not okay with it… It’s dangerous.” Minji said, worried.

Well, it’s true. The play you were playing is inspired by Grimm’s Rapunzel story. The prince is supposed to go blind from the thorns.

“Let’s put it aside for now. I’ll ask them for a replacement.” Gyuri kicked the box to the side.

“Okay! Let’s practice once more! Witch, prince, and extras get ready!” Gyuri clapped, and you and the other members got ready.

The practice went really well, smoother than it used to, and you’re getting great at wagging your stems. Though you wanted to throw a branch at the prince whenever he got touchy with Minji.

Before Gyuri set an extra meeting before ending the meeting.

“We still had a week before the first presentation of the year.” Then Gyuri picked up another box and dropped it in the middle.

“We had this traditional ceremony in this club,” she opened the box, and it was full of plain paper with a club stamp on it.

“Every year, we wrote our wishes in this paper, which we called scripts. We usually wrote what we wanted to happen for the year, some wrote their will, some wrote their wishes for better grades, and some confessed.” Gyuri looks at you when she says the last part.

“On the last day of the festival, we’ll burn it on the bonfire, so that the fortune reads the scripts once its smoke dissipates into the air. Hoping that destiny will follow it.” Gyuri looks at Minji this time.

We wrote our wishes.

“...”

You sincerely wrote what you really wanted, the courage of confession. The kryptonite of your fear, so the Superman inside you finally tells what you really feel.

You were hoping that destiny would really follow the script you wrote, and promised that no matter what the conclusion is, as long as both of you remain like what you are today, it’s fine for you.

You kept your script in your pocket and in your heart.

A few hours later, the three of you walked together. You forgot how long it was the last time. You were in the middle, with Gyuri on your left and Minji on your right.

“Does destiny really grant wishes?” Minji asked both of you out of curiosity.

“They said, surprisingly, most of them got their wishes came true. It must be real.” Gyuri responds.

“So, what did you guys write?” Minji asked both you and Gyuri.

“Secret.” Gyuri flatly responds.

“You’ll learn soon.” You instantly regret what you said.

“Oh? Is it something that had to do with me? Did you curse me?” Minji’s curiosity spiked up.

“No, I didn’t. Honestly, why would I?” You questioned why Minji would think you cursed her.

“Just because you mostly didn’t do it. I thought that you must have been keeping it by yourself.” Minji reasoned out.

“...”

What Minji said echoed in you. What she meant doesn’t only define the cursing; it also signifies your feelings.

You're keeping it yourself.

“He wrote to be the prince again.” Gyuri suddenly said, breaking the silence.

“Your prince.” You said, and all of you stopped.

You looked at Minji, and she stared back at you. You can also feel Gyuri’s gaze behind you.

“I should tell her, soon.” You thought as your eyes fixated on Minji.

*****

The few days remaining before the festival went by like a blur. It’s full of studies in the morning, while rehearsals are at night. But all those days passed, and you still haven’t told her what you really feel.

Coward, that’s what you are.

Then the day of the festival finally came, and you were nervous even though you’re just a tree. You were walking your way to the gym where the club’s going to perform. Walking past the pile of dried tree logs, arranged in pyramid style.

On your way, you heard Minji’s name out of nowhere. Behind one of the stalls, curiosity got the better of you, so you eavesdrop, even though it’s bad.

“Hey, you’re really going to tell her you like her? To Kim Minji?” A stranger asked his friend. There were only two of them.

“Yeah, I’ve been into her ever since I joined the club. She’s so beautiful. The prettiest girl I have ever seen.” His friend responds, It’s the new prince from the club.

“Then do it.” His friend said. Somehow, it reminds you of Gyuri.

“I will, I even wrote on the script that I wish she liked me too.” The new prince replied, hitting the back of your head, reminding you that it was the reality.

He’s not scared to tell Minji he likes her.

“No, we’re different. Minji’s my best friend, and they just met, so nothing is holding him back.” You thought, but somewhere in you wished you had the same confidence he had. 

“Is it fine to alter the script like that?” His friend’s clueless about what he just said.

“Not that script! We had this paper that we’ll burn later. It says all those wishes will come true if destiny sees it.”

“Get me one, too.”

“No, it’s only exclusive for club members.” Right, you remembered that the papers had the club stamp on them.

But that’s not what's important for you right now.

“Damn, too bad. Anyway, let’s go! I want some tteokboki.” The new prince and his friend walk away.

“...”

You just stand there for a while. Analyzing what you just heard.

It’s something that hasn’t crossed your mind yet.

You had so many what-ifs, but you never asked yourself…

“What if someone confessed to Minji before you?”

“What if Minji likes him too?”

You were too scared, and that caused you to only wonder what would happen if you confessed.

You never thought about the possibility,

Because in the end, it’s still the same.

You’d lose Minji.

“Today’s the day.” You’ve finally decided.

You’re ready to risk it all. Today, you’ll confess, you’ll tell her what you really feel.

“Pant. Pant.”

You ran, looking for someone everywhere, until you found her.

“Gyuri!” You shout her name, and it gets her attention in an instant.

You ran to her.

“How many times do I have to tell you, call me sunb— hey, what are you doing!?” Gyuri’s surprised when you suddenly hold both of her hands with yours.

“I have something to tell you.” You gripped her hand, tight.

“W-w-what?” Gyuri’s starting to redden, and you wonder if she already had an idea of what you were going to say.

“I’ll confess.” You said you’re beaming with excitement.

“C-confess? I already—” 

“Yes, to Minji.” You let her know that you’re going to tell Minji what you really feel. As one of the trio, she should learn about it before I do.

“...” She just stared at you.

“G-Gyuri?” You called her when you noticed that she suddenly became blanked.

“Sunbae.” She removed her hand from your grip.

“Y-yes, sunbae…”

“Go, tell her what you feel. You should’ve done it sooner. But, do it later, we’ll have to prepare for the play. Come with me.” She wrapped her arms around you.

“Ye–AWWW!” She gave you no chance to speak as she dragged you by your neck.

“But, later? He’ll confess before I get to do it!” You thought as you tried your best to regain control, but she’s too strong.

During preparation, you tried to talk to Minji countless times, but she was too busy to entertain you. She was getting her makeup done, and some club members were ensuring everything was ready for the lead.

“Pretty…” Again, you admired her beauty.

“Save it for later.” Gyuri tapped you and pointed at the props.

You helped with the props as Gyuri told you. You keep stealing glances at Minji and that new prince; he might confess anytime, so you have to keep an eye on them.

“Ouch.” Your co-member got hurt beside you.

“Hey— shit, you’re bleeding. Wait!” You stood up and hurriedly grabbed some napkins to stop the bleeding.

“What happened!?” Gyuri rushed over, and the other members swarmed around.

“He got stung.” You said, and looking at his wound, it was pointy.

“Didn’t they change the thorns? I said I want an artificial one. This one’s real!” Gyuri’s furious; someone got hurt on an important day, and her co-member as well.

“They didn’t give anything for replacement.” One member answered.

“Then, we won’t be going to use these thorns anymore. NO MORE THORNS.” Gyuri assured everyone’s safety.

*****

“Minji! Minji, let down your hair, so that I may climb the golden stairs.” The new prince said his line.

The show was already going on, and that guy had yet to confess.

“Tree, keep wagging,” Gyuri told you through her handheld transceiver.

“How windy is the setting?” You complained but still wagged it.

“It’s so windy that it can kick you later if you mess this up,” Gyuri responds.

You can hear the other club member laugh backstage. The transceiver connects everyone within the vicinity, so they can hear what we are talking about.

“OOHHHHH!”

The audience is loving it.

“Wow….”

“You’re so beautiful…” The prince met Minji in the tower.

“Who are you!? W-what are you!?” Minji said her line.

“I’m a prince from a nearby kingdom.”

“Alright, take it slowly, and confess. Both of you will fall with each other and will make a promise.” Gyuri instructed.

“C-confess?” You muttered.

“OHHH! The tree’s moving!”

“Is it part of the story!?”

“W-what the??? HEY! BACK TO YOUR POST! What are you doing!?” You can see on your peripherals that Gyuri’s hopping furiously at the side.

You were walking on your way to where Minji and the prince were. The tree costume makes it hard for you to walk.

“W-what the whoa!” The prince was in disbelief when a tree suddenly popped inside the tower.

“What are you doing!?” The prince whispered.

“Y-yah… what are you— huh?” Minji whispered as well, but you grabbed her hand.

“OHHH! I LOVE THIS!”

“What a twist!”

“No way! How did the club think about it? The tree’s running for her!”

You can hear the audience, and you’re well aware that Gyuri’s hell of a mad right now. But this is your moment.

You've got to confess.

“This isn’t part of the script!”

“Sunbaenim, should we stop?”

“Wait, the audience is getting more excited??”

Your club members talked on the transmitter.

“Go on… heh.” Gyuri approved the impromptu act; you knew she smiled when you heard it. She knew what you were planning to do.

“Minji…” You called her name; this is the moment you were waiting for.

“Hold on! Tree! You’re cursed! As a prince, I must exterminat— whack!”

You forgot the prince was still there, so you used one of your branches to smack him. He got knocked out, you didn’t intend to, though.

“THE TREE KNOCKS THE PRINCE OUT COLD!”

“This is amazing!! Best play for the past years.”

“Really unpredictable!”

The audience's cheering gives you more confidence.

It’s okay. You can confess now.

“Minji, I like you.” You told her straightforwardly.

“I—”

“...” You patiently wait for her answer.

“I like you too.”

That’s it, her answer.

If the heart can leap out of a human’s body, it has already happened. If there’s something greater than joy, you’re feeling it.

You’re basically overflowing with joy, relief, and love. You can’t explain what you can feel exactly.

But all you knew at this moment is she liked you too.

“Minj– hmm!” Your words disappeared when she held your face and silenced you with her kiss.

Her lips touched yours, and you’re not dreaming.

No more what-ifs for you, since that kiss seals the answer.

“WOOOOH!”

“WHOA! R-18!”

“Minji…” You called her name the moment she let your lips go.

“Now, finally.” She speaks to you as if she’s been waiting for it.

“Okay, now that’s too much. We should end it. Where’s the witch?” Gyuri spoke through the transceiver.

“Sunbae! The witch ran to the bathroom due to a stomachache.” 

“What the? Uhh, ready the foam! We’ll end it! The tree will fall instead and become one with nature!” Gyuri shouts.

“HAHAHAHHA”

“NICE!”

It’s so loud that the audience even heard it. You heard through your transceiver that Gyuri turned off hers; she might be so embarrassed right now.

“...”

“It’s a mess.” You muttered.

“Yeah, we really messed it up.” Minji agreed to you.

The other members set up the foam, the props, and the thorns—

“Hey! No thorns! Hey! Wh– no… they’re not here earlier… they didn’t know that the thorns were real!” Gyuri panicked and yelled through the transceiver, but her voice only came out as a faint, distorted sound; it’s also unclear and bubbly for you.

You wonder if she forgot that she just turned her transceiver off.

“Should I just jump? I guess we should end it fast.” You asked Minji.

You’re still in the clouds of joy; that kiss makes you invulnerable to any threats, and even to Gyuri’s furious scolding later on.

You wanted to end the play and spend time with Minji.

“Wait— huh? WAIT!” Minji tried to stop you, but you already jumped.

Face-first, since the costume is too bulky for you to move backwards.

“WAIT, DON’T JUMP!” Gyuri spoke once again, clearer this time, since she ran from the sides, and you saw her worried.

However, you’re already in the air, free-falling.

“Wh—”

Thud!

“OH NO!”

“HELP!”

“Shit!”

You can hear a long, ringing sound, and your club members as well. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Gyuri ran, her stomps are fast, she might be running with everything she had.

“Hey— huh? No…” You heard Minji as well, panting; she might have run from the tower all the way to you.

You can’t see them.

Everything’s dark.

You wonder if someone turned the lights off since the play’s over.

…

…

…

“HEY! CALL THE AMBULANCE!”

“SHIT! THE BLOOD LOOKS REAL!”

“IT’S REAL YOU DUMBASS! CALL 911!”

“Why’s everything da— kgh–” You cough, a stinging pain runs through your body.

…

…

…

It’s endless, the darkness, pitch-black everywhere.

I had my eyes open— eyes…

“NO!!! NO!!! CALL SOMEONE! HURRY!!” Minji is crying; she holds your hand. You felt water droplets on your face.

You can’t see her since it’s all black, but you can tell it’s her.

“Minji…”

“Y-yes! I’m here! Don’t move! Let the doctors remove the thorns…” She’s panicking but remained calm when touching you.

She’s as gentle as you remember.

“No…” Gyuri sounds devastated.

…

…

…

You finally realized it.

The moment you land, the thorns poked your eyes, instantly blinding you.

It’s your fault, you knew it.

“Gyuri… It’s fine.” You did your best to assure her that she’s not at fault as fast as you can.

“I still did it… I confessed.” You told her.

Upon hearing it, you heard Gyuri and Minji burst out crying.

In the story, Rapunzel’s tears work like magic, miraculously curing the blind prince, granting him vision once again.

In parallel, Minji’s tears just keep dropping on you.

It didn’t heal you, but it reminds you that she loved as well.

It’s more than enough.

“Minji.”

You called her name one more time before the authorities from the nearest hospital came to get you.

*****

“What are these papers?”

“It’s from the theatre club; they burn it every year for good luck.”

“Well, I can’t call it good anymore; it’s tragic.”

“Just, burn it.”

They threw the letters into the bonfire.

“Hey, destiny. No matter what, I’ll confess to Minji. If you read this script and make it come true, I’ll make sure I won’t cry no matter what - You.”

“I wished for better grades, a happy freshman year, and longer friendships with everyone! And destiny, I hoped I could tell him what I really felt. I’ll kiss him the moment he accepts my feelings! I feel like he already likes someone else. I should chase him, right? But… I wonder how I will tell him? Give me signs! -Minji”

“This year, I think… I should burn my feelings with this letter. That guy and that girl have liked each other for a long time. But honestly, I’m a bad friend… I fell in love with him, and I’m aware I realized what I really felt too late. So, let me burn this letter and turn my script into a good luck for my friends -Gyuri.”

*****

“Grandma, were you the princess?”

“No. I was just the director.” The old woman laughed.

“Grandma Gyuri, what did happen to them?” A kid on her left asked her.

“They… lived happily ever after… just like a fairy tale.”

“It's kind of sad, though.” Another kid spoke.

“It is, at first. But that guy said he’s still grateful for his craziness. He watched her every time he got a chance, stared at her beauty until it was engraved into his heart, listened to her voice up to the point it could wake him up, and held her hand till they could.”

“Wow… that kind of love exists?”

“Yes, it is. That’s the story of my friends. As a director, I guided the play, and I guided their relationship.” Gyuri explained.

“That moment… during that play… I feel defeated, but I was happy.”