kpdh sideblog

"Ummm, because we're gay?" Zoey offers her best smile, her voice lilting up a little too much to be convincing. She adds a little more dazzle to her grin, the one that can usually get Mira and Rumi to fold without a fight, only resigned acceptance.

It doesn't work, instead she gets the laser stare and folded arms that never fail to remind her of Celine. Not Jeju Celine, no, this is power suit, 'I eat guys like you for breakfast' Celine Kim.

Rumi never minds the comparisons or the childhood spent shadowing and learning from a grieving woman who built Sunlight Records from the ground up. A feat made doubly impressive when you factor in she was a single mother and solely responsible for the maintaining the Honmoon.

It was a juggling act and yes some balls were scuffed in the process but they knew she cared in the way she shielded them from the industry as much as she could, had Bobby look after them in a way she couldn't or wouldn't allow herself to in fear of accusations of favoritism. Perfection was a requirement they were all unlearning together.

"Zoey," Rumi sighs, it's her, 'what did you do now' sigh. "Please tell me being gay is not the reason you invested $5 million dollars into some random team in Los Angeles. You don't even like soccer."

"I like it well enough!" A lot of her best memories pre-thebestthingthatseverhappenedtoher-debut have to do with yelling at a fuzzy stream with her dad.

"Name one player on the South Korean team." Zoey smiles, that's easy, "And it can't be Son Heung-min."

Rumi thinks she's so smart but something about being a part of the diaspora only makes you root for your national team harder, and Zoey is lucky/unlucky enough to have two.

"Park Ji-sung, the 2010 world cup in South Africa. Quite possibly the best World Cup I've ever seen. I was eight and my dad got his dreams crushed by that scummy cheating team." Zoey vividly remembers a coffee table that they may or may not have overturned together, much to her mom's displeasure. "It was also the only decent showing the U.S. men's team had that I can remember. Tim Howard was a brick wall."

"I don't know what that means." Rumi, walks around the couch like the rule follower she is and flops down next to Zoey. "And apparently I didn't know you liked soccer."

"I learned to love it because of my Dad. He's so passionate about his teams, especially when the World Cup comes around. He's one of the lunatics that throws his whole sleeping schedule out of wack so he can watch every game, and of course I was right there with him." Zoey smiles, snuggling into Rumi, she had to get her hyperfixations from someone. "Mom would get so mad at all the yelling and the nonstop singing. I think I sang Waka-Waka in my sleep for a year."

"That's a good song," Rumi agrees, tightening her arms around Zoey.

"He would run around with me outside and we'd kick the ball around. It's our thing. Even now, he still texts me scores and updates. The man's emoji game is on point."

Rumi's chuckle rumbles through Zoey, "It really is."

"He always made sure to tell me I could be whoever I wanted to be. That if there wasn't a path it was my job to make one, and leave enough space for the person behind me. Eventually, he said, the path would be paved, but it starts with someone who is brave enough to take that first step." Rumi interlaces her fingers with Zoey's, her grip relaxed but steady. Zoey squeezes back in appreciation as she struggles to gather her thoughts.

The email had been forwarded to her by her accountant who also doubled as a financial advisor. Part of the reason was because it was one less person to deal with. He also was versed in Korean and American tax code, which Zoey needed as a dual citizen.

Michael was the only one who hadn't talked down to her and gave her a long term plan that allowed for both security and fun. The others had promised her day trading was going to make her a billionaire. She doesn't want to be a billionaire, she just wants to be financially independent, and be able to retire her parents who so far have steadfastly refused her offers.

So getting that email from him with the opportunity to invest in Angel City FC, Los Angeles' first NWSL soccer team? It caught her attention and after doing her due diligence, she'd invested, but she'd put both Rumi's and Mira's name on it, because well, if she ever ended up in a body bag, Rumi and Mira would get half of her money and her parents would get the other.

She'd just forgotten to tell them, and hadn't realized it was time for Rumi's end of the month audit. Mira and Zoey never had a problem with Rumi looking over their finances, there were too many stories of people getting screwed over financially by people they were supposed to trust.

The numbers were also soothing to Rumi (or so she said but the mumbling and pen chewing said otherwise.)

"I know we do this job for the Honmoon but we also do it for ourselves, for the fans, for people like Celine who refused to put up with bullshit from the old guard, the same way you went down your own path regardless of what Celine said, even if it meant certain death." Zoey takes a deep breath, that day is a day she wishes she could forget.

"I'm right here, Zoey. We won, he's gone and we're happier than we've ever been."

"You're right, and we want to make a difference, I want to make a difference." She wants a legacy bigger than being one third of HUNTR/X.

"And you do, Zo, every day."

"Did you read anything or did you jump to conclusions?" Zoey asks, not able to keep the scorn out her voice.

"I'm not jumping to conclusions, Zoey. I was surprised, you don't spend huge amounts of money like that without reason, I wanted to ask you directly."

"All the money the men make playing soccer? The women make a fraction of it even when they're better, the purses are smaller, some players work second jobs, the facilities can be state of the art or a shack depending on the club. I could list all the ways women's soccer is treated as second rate."

Discovering all the injustices turned her off of the sport, but her dad kept watch and would send her articles of ways the game was steadily improving.

"But even with all that you have strong women who day after day put their blood sweat and tears into their craft and try to make it better for the next generation. And a lot of them are also gay." Zoey laughs, and Rumi cracks a smile, eyes soft with understanding.

"In this life I was destined to sing, in another I could have been a soccer player. Regardless, I can make a positive impact with the club's social missions and their commitment to paying the players. And also give my dad eternal bragging rights. Plus, owning any sports team is cool."

"Some might even say it's totally legit," Rumi teases, squirming away when Zoey pokes at her sides.

"No, writing the anthem for the World Cup, that would be legit." She might have to dust off that notebook if the gleam in Rumi's eyes is anything to go by.

"So we're soccer gays now?"

"The fact that you said that tells me you went down a rabbit hole."

"Why are they all so hot?" Rumi whines, burying her face in Zoey's shoulder, "And inspirational, I think everyone I saw supported some kind of cause."

"So do we," Zoey reminds her, always able to pep talk everyone but herself. "Do you want me to start listing or are you not done feeling inferior?" Rumi huffs. "We can start with 'local half-demon saves the world with her beautiful voice' or 'gorgeous makane leads turtle conservation effort?' How about 'HUNTR/X visual leads crusade against teen homelessness?'"

"I get your point you menace." Rumi hesitates a beat before hugging Zoey closer, "Thank you for reminding me we all still have so much to learn about each other. And for sharing the story about your dad.

"Also," Rumi rubs the back of her neck, scratching nervously. "Celine is going to want season tickets."

"Celine is a soccer fan?" Zoey leans back to look at Rumi.

"The biggest." Her brown eyes unfocus, and Zoey can tell she's calling back a good memory. She gets the same half smile on her face whenever she's remembering one of their dates. "You should have seen her when France lost the World Cup. She left the stadium in tears."

"Celine's French?!"

"Really?" Rumi raised an eyebrow. "That's the part you're focused on, not on the fact that I've been to a World Cup final?"

"You're a nepo baby, of course you've been to a World Cup final, and you're going to make it up to me by taking me to a World Cup final. But back to Celine, she's French?!"

"Yes...My great-grandparents left right before the Korean War, her parents met in France and they moved back when she was 10. We're also going to ignore the fact she shirked her Hunter duties to watch soccer?"

"Gwi-Ma definitely has cable, I bet they watched on Univision. He's a glorified TV anyway according to Jinu. You know what, ask him!"

"I am not asking him!"

"Ask who what?" Mira's voice interrupts Zoey's gesturing, the Honmoon humming around them.

"Rumi doesn't believe that demons watch the World Cup in Gwi-Ma 4K, and she won't let me ask Jinu."

"Do I even want to know?" Mira flops into Rumi's lap after pressing a kiss to each of their lips.

"Zoey spent $5 million on a women's soccer team." Rumi oversimplifies.

"Sick. Women soccer players are hot and put up with too much bullshit. I watched Hope Solo win Gold London." Mira offers, as if it had just been a pick up game and not the fucking Olympics.

Rich kids, so beautiful, so out of touch, so in love with her.

"Of course you did." Zoey's only extremely jealous. "At least you appreciated it, this one watched Zidane headbutt the Italian captain in person and could care less about it."

"Was that the one who was talking shit about the sister? He deserved it." Zoey couldn't disgree, not when you say something as crass as sleeping with a player's sister. It would forever be an iconic moment.

"Celine cried! Excuse me for focusing on that! I was five!"

"Excuses," Mira tisked, lifting her nose higher in the air than someone on their back should have been able to do.

"How are ganging up on me when as of 30 minutes ago I didn't even know you liked sports!"

"Mira and I wear jerseys all the time, Rumi."

"Oblivious Rumi strikes again," Mira snickers and Rumi's patterns flash her cherry red, a telltale sign she's embarrassed.

"That doesn't mean anything! Everyone wears jerseys of any team! It doesn't matter!" Rumi was so wrong it was adorable. "Mira's favorite color is red, and I thought you stole hers."

"As if I would ever wear a Manchester United jersey. My dad would disown me." He'd probably sense it in the Honmoon or something.

"Well, if I'm remembering correctly he had nothing to say in the group chat when Arsenal choked again, enjoy the race to the bottom, Red Spur."

"Group chat?" Rumi's puppy dog eyes are ignored.

Zoey gasps, shoving herself away from Rumi. "How dare you!" How was her dad supposed to respond with Mira and her brother being asses in the chat?!

"Ouch, Zoey," Rumi complained, "I thought you were a casual fan."

"You thought incorrectly. There's no such thing as a casual Arsenal fan, you're either in or you're out."

"Don't blame her for her bad taste babe, it's inherited. There's still hope for you." Rumi blanches.

"Absolutely not, I am not getting in the middle this." Rumi hops over the edge of the couch to get away from them. A suspicious retreat from the rule follower.

Zoey narrows her eyes at her. "You said Celine watches soccer."

"Yeah," Rumi squeaks, "she does."

"What's her favorite team in the Premier League?" Mira asks, picking up on Zoey's line of questioning.

"What league is that again?" Rumi's patterns are flashing more than the pair of Barbie light up shoes she wore out in less than three months.

"You know," Mira begins, her fight with Zoey forgotten, "I swear I thought I saw blue in your closet once, strange for someone who has more purple than Barney the Dinosaur." Zoey swallows down her laugh in an attempt to keep a serious face but Rumi's offended squawk almost pushes her over the edge. "Celine has been suspiciously happy with a lot of business in London. So I only have one question for you.

"What color is London, Rumi?"

Their answer is a poof of purple smoke.

"Zoey," Mira exhales, her entire body and demeanor is somber, gaze fixed on the spot where Rumi disappeared. "I think I have to break up with Rumi."

"I think you're right."

"Now, La Liga..."

Zoey points a finger at her. "If you say Real Madrid I'm breaking up with you Mira."

"Bold for #10 to say that to #1."

"I'm going to kick your ass in FIFA." Zoey growls, moving to their game room.

They can makeout while the game downloads. It's also sure to summon Rumi who can almost sense when things are getting hot and heavy.

Their little sex demon.

"I'd like to see you try, I have my loser brother to thank for my skills."

"Loser has to post a picture of themselves wearing Rumi's jersey?"

They both shudder.