Chapter Text
Adjectives.
Adjectives are significant and Sana likes to use them wisely.
If asked to define herself, Sana would say she’s lively. Others might disapprove, switching the term for noisy and bothersome, but Sana never cared for jealousy. It’s proof that she is memorable, another adjective Sana’s particularly fond of.
She likes to think her friends see her lingering in the frames of her favorite movies, hear her in the vibrato of her favorite singers. An unforgettable presence. It’s self-centered, perhaps. Sana’s heard the word narcissist uttered enough time by detractors who’d failed to hear the click of her heels in the agency’s hallway to override it. She revels in their fright as she turns the corner, meeting familiar expressions of embarrassment and cowardice. The same sheepish eyes, the same apologies foaming at their mouths, but Sana never slow down. She doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter what they think, what the world thinks. What adjectives they use. There is only one opinion she seeks, and she has yet to meet its owner.
It’s not that she refuses to listen to any constructive criticism. She doesn’t forbid adjectives. She’s adamant in acknowledging them when it comes from professionals or friends and family, but she’s careful to keep them at a distance. Sana’s aware she’s not defined by her wrongs, missteps, or occasional naivety as long as she strives to remediate them. Yet, she isn’t so sound regarding the whole soulmate matter, which leads to another important adjective. Unreasonable. It is the one her friends and family agree on, but Sana won’t take the blame.
The concept of soulmate is fascinating and worth fixation. The notion that for each soul birthed, a fated one is gifted soothes her. Somewhere a soul roams the Earth for a mystical union, Sana’s the perfect match to. It’s heartwarming. Thus, Sana’s eager to bring the subject on every occasion and rant about it for hours, leading her friends to avoid it altogether. But love-stricken is the ultimate word Sana wishes she could add to her list of adjectives. It’s always been the goal, she thinks, from the moment she was old enough to understand fate’s working and layers of meaning.
One word spoken to one another, that’s all it took for the fated words to ink themselves on the skin of destined beings. Two halves of a single sentence for a boundless love. Sana often wonders about it. She thinks about the sentence whose meaning is enough to put an end to her loneliness. At a point in time, it plagued Sana's mind sufficiently for her to voice those worries. She’d still been a teen then, lonely and unable to see the stars as anything but dying suns and her dad had been desperate to understand. Yet in his eyes she read an unwanted answer. Sana never mentioned her lonesomeness ever again, not even after it atrophied into an afterthought. Her soulmate would know, she’d thought then and think now. When the time will come, she’ll be able to sweep the residue away. They will get rid of the ill-intentioned adjectives hand in hand.
Until then, she ought to seek as many people as she can, as many adjectives. Because her soulmate may be dancing away in a nightclub, reading quietly in the subway, sipping coffee on a terrasse. One word, that’s all they need, and the world is full of people uttering billions of them. She just needs to be there to catch them into the air, to draw them to her eardrum. Hence, when her roommate Tzuyu asks if she wants to meet with her friends for a coffee, she eagerly agrees.
Despite living together for four months, Sana has never met Tzuyu’s friends, except from Chaeyoung. At first, Sana had assumed there was simply no-one else as Tzuyu is pathologically introverted. It took her three weeks to stop answering Sana with one-word sentences. But one night she’d found Chaeyoung alone on the couch, flipping through a comic book. It wasn’t unusual for the woman to be at their flat. She almost lived there, but Tzuyu was always by her side. Interest picked, Sana had asked about Tzuyu’s whereabouts. That day, she’d learned that Tzuyu had several other friends and that they regularly met for movie nights and other shenanigans. The secrecy of these gatherings surprised and strangely pained Sana, but she understood. Tzuyu is a private person and Sana could be a bit… inquiring. Still, she’d asked Tzuyu about it and the woman had casually answered that she thought Sana had no interest in her personal life. Gross miscalculations. Sana cared about everything. She was determined to make Tzuyu understand it and finally succeeded one magical morning.
It leads to Sana standing in front of her floor to ceiling mirror holding two different tops in front of her chest alternatively, pondering. She doesn’t know which reaction she wants to get out of Tzuyu’s friends and potential soulmate. Of course, they’ll find her pretty, but will they find her cute or sexy? Sana thinks the thin beige wool sweater is charming and compliments her eyes. Yet, the cropped crocheted black top shows off the abs she diligently worked out for. It would be a shame to deprive the world of their sight. She’s still contemplating the two options when Tzuyu enters her room, sighing. Tzuyu abhors tardiness and if Sana does not make a choice quickly, they will run late.
“Tzuyu! Choose for me,” whines Sana, trying to delay Tzuyu’s anger. “I want to make a good impression on your friends!”
Tzuyu rolls her eyes but seats herself on Sana’s bed, patiently watching as Sana repeats the same performance.
“The sweater.”
“Are you sure? Isn’t it too prudish?”
“Sana,” sighs Tzuyu. “My friends will like you even in a plastic bag. Don’t worry.”
“Tzuyu. I wouldn’t even like myself in a plastic bag.”
“And I wouldn’t either, but my friends…” and Sana watches, subjugated, as Tzuyu uncharacteristically struggles to find her words. “Let’s say they have an original take on life.”
“What does that mean?” asks Sana, always probing and never satisfied. She puts the tops away and seats herself next to Tzuyu, too close in Sana’s fashion. Tzuyu pushes her face away with a groan, pushing Sana’s clothes back into her arms.
“They are intense.”
“Really? Tell me more.”
“You’ll see for yourself,” answers Tzuyu, lifting herself up. “Now, get ready or I’m leaving without you.”
Sana pouts at the space next to her, but do as told. She won’t mess that one up.
***
Chaos.
Tzuyu’s friends are chaos, and Sana doesn’t know what to do with that adjective.
Sana stares, mouth slightly ajar, as two girls take part in a fight to the death. Tzuyu’s unphased, taking the time to look at her hair through her phone’s screen. It’s absurd because Sana cannot imagine the punches to be anything but painful. Admittedly, the distribution is uneven. The smaller of the two suffers most of the hits, as the taller one is determined to dismantle her handbag on her partner’s head. Yet, the vicious grip the smaller girl has on the other girl’s blouse tells Sana she shouldn’t underestimate her.
“Are you guys quite done?” huffs Tzuyu, pocketing her phone.
The two girls straighten themselves at once, and Sana sends an astonished look Tzuyu’s way. Tzuyu’s attitude is usually less pronounced, but the two girls are not cross by it, if only scolded.
The taller girl scratches the back of her head, her bangs skimming over her forehead at the motion, an apologetic smile on her face. Sana notices her high cheekbones now dusted pink. She’d look harmless if she wasn’t crumpling her friend’s sweater in an iron fist. She catches Sana’s gaze and beats a retreat. A chuckle escapes Sana as she gifts her a charming smile, a reward for her good conduct. The pink on the unknown girl’s cheek turning a shade darker. She looks up at the sky, self-conscious, and Sana switches victim. Hungry for influence.
Unfortunately for Sana, her new prey is remorseless, mindlessly rocking back on her heels, hands clasped behind her back. Sana can tell her attention is on neither of them, despite the sunglasses hiding the woman’s eyes. Drowned in her black sweatshirt with the hood up and her green basketball shorts, she looks like a dejected gym rat. The only thing telling on the girl’s salvageable sense of style is the colorful low-dunks she’s sporting. Sana thinks it’s a limited edition, but the woman sports bag makes her reconsider her assessment. Plus, the woman looks like she’s been through hell and back. The gym isn’t the best place to nurse a potential hangover.
“Jihyo, care to explain why you look dead inside?” bluntly asks Tzuyu, putting Sana’s thoughts into words. Still, the wording stuns Sana. She’s known Tzuyu to be more tactful.
The target groans, tilting her head back, long black hair escaping her sweatshirt’s hood.
“She got pepper sprayed on her way back to the gym,” explains the taller, unnamed girl.
“By a bunch of kids,” groans Jihyo, forcefully closing her eyes, as if reliving the scene. It prompts a cackle from her neighbor’s throat.
“See, Momo? That is why I have to beat you up at least once a day,” says Jihyo matter-of-factly, eyes opening wide, as she aims for the front of Momo’s blouse. Thankfully for Momo, Tzuyu catches Jihyo’s attention again by clapping her hands.
“Remind me why I’m friends with you again? Because you didn’t even say hello to Sana.”
“Hi, Sana, nice to meet you!” shouts the two girls in unison, bowing more than necessary.
“Nice to meet you too,” giggles Sana, one hand coming to cover her mouth. She does not miss how Momo’s gaze follows the movement, her chest constricting pleasantly.
“Well, now that the poor introductions have been done, I think we should get going. Nayeon’s waiting for us at the café,” says Tzuyu, already turning on her heels.
“Wait! Nayeon’s there? You did not tell me she was coming!” whines Jihyo running after her, encircling Tzuyu’s arm, who surprisingly doesn’t protest.
She lets them take the lead, not really interested in this Nayeon’s business, and falls into pace with Momo. The woman has her hands buried in her back pockets and her attention to the sky. Sana smiles to herself. She’s seen this demeanor a hundred times. Sana has caught a fly without turning on the charm. She gloats internally, but puts Tzuyu’s friend out of her misery.
“So, how did you meet Tzuyu?”
Momo looks away from the sky to look at Sana in disbelief, lips slightly parted, eyes impossibly clear. Did she really think Sana was going to make them walk in awkward silence? She shakes her head fondly, encouraging Momo to proceed with her answer.
“I met her through Jihyo actually,” says Momo, head jerking in Jihyo’s direction. “She used to be Tzuyu’s roommate in college. She’s some sort of older sister to Tzuyu, but you probably already know that.”
Sana didn’t. She didn’t even know Jihyo existed before today, but she simply nods with a smile, swallowing the hurt.
“Jihyo’s a business major with a minor in music and, because she’s an overachiever, she enrolled in dance classes as well, leading to our meeting. After a few days, she introduced me to Tzuyu, and the rest is history.”
“So, you majored in dance?”
“I did! I am a dance teacher actually, and I am lucky enough to have my dance studio,” supplies Momo with a soft smile. “You should definitely come by when you have the time. Tzuyu can send you the address!”
“What if you gave it to me yourself?”
Momo stops in her track, taken aback by Sana’s boldness. Sana holds her phone out to Momo with a wink, and the woman scrambles to put her number in, cheeks as red as a firefighter truck.
Sana’s becoming fond of the color.
***
The café of Tzuyu’s choice is as discreet as her character. Hidden in one of the many busy streets of Seoul, it is only visible to those looking for it. The shopfront is unremarkable save its cloud shaped front door and light blue bricks. The inside is as minimalistic, with light brown wooden benches covered in striped baby blue cushion and walls covered in clouds of various shapes. Naked lightbulbs unravel the whole enamoring Sana and the dozens of people occupying the place. Sana’s gaze jumps from students cramming their last exams to friend groups and lonely customers in search of seats. She gnaws the inside of her cheek when she finds none, unwilling to face Tzuyu’s disappointment. Thankfully, she’s saved from dropping the news by a deafening squeal.
“There!” shouts Jihyo before bolting further into the café, drawing judgmental stares their way.
“Always count on Jihyo to find Nayeon in a crowded room,” whispers Momo into Sana’s ear, amusement lacing her words. The same amusement is in Tzuyu’s smile as they follow Jihyo, and Sana eyes her curiously. She doesn’t know this Tzuyu. Naturally, she’s patient with her and Chaeyoung, but it’s annoyance she finds in Tzuyu’s eyes when Sana acts too clingy or childish, not endearment. The realization slowly shifts a string of Sana’s heart.
When they reach Nayeon’s table, the woman is stuck in a headlock, Jihyo violently ruffling her hair as Nayeon uselessly waves her arms. Sana looks over at Momo with worry, but the woman silently offers her the seat next to her without explanations.
Right, she’d forgotten that Tzuyu’s friends are into some kind of fight club.
Tzuyu slides next to Jihyo, careful to not get hit by accident, and flips through the menu. Momo mimics her and so does Sana, as they are apparently intent on ignoring Nayeon’s pleads for help. After five minutes, Nayeon still hasn’t broken away and neither Momo nor Tzuyu seem willing to interfere.
“Is this normal?” whispers Sana into Momo’s ear, and she witnesses the hair at the nap of Momo’s neck straighten. She suppresses a satisfied smile, waiting for the answer.
“It is, Nayeon and Jihyo’s love-language can be weirdly violent,” confirms Momo, but Sana senses she has something else to say. There is a mischievous spark in her eyes, and Sana waits for the outcome. “But that’s just because they love each other so, so much,” finishes Momo, louder than necessary.
Momo hits her mark and Sana cackles as the two girls hurry to separate themselves, gagging sound filling the air. Sana glances back at Momo, chuckling at the woman unabashedly gloating.
These people are definitely something.
“Sorry about that, I’m Im Nayeon,” interrupts Nayeon, clearing her throat, hair ruffled, and hand gravely extended.
Sana catches Jihyo rolling her eyes, her sunglasses slowly shifting, but Sana remains unable to get a proper look at Jihyo’s face. Sana reaches for Nayeon’s hand, surprised by the firmness of the handshake. Nayeon’s hand lingers more than necessary, and Sana finds herself under examination. There is no childishness in Nayeon’s eyes, nothing to match the bunny smile on her face. Sana coughs, eyes awkwardly sweeping over the table to settle on a diary.
“You journal?” Sana asks, eager to find her balance again.
“No, not this again,” groans Jihyo, and Sana startles at the interruption. Jihyo doesn’t care to elaborate as she turns sideway, pressing her face in Tzuyu’s shoulder.
“I do! It’s something I’ve picked up on recently!” excitedly answers Nayeon, previous mistrust seemingly forgotten. “Jeongyeon thinks it will help me sort the things going on in my head.”
Sana nods in understanding. She’s confident Nayeon has a lot to put on paper. As for this Jeongyeon, Sana supposes she’s another one of Tzuyu’s mystery friends.
“Speaking of journaling, would you mind giving me a bit of background about yourself? It will fill today’s section.”
Nayeon gestures to the journal as she offers Sana a manic looking smile. She looks at Momo uncertainly, but the woman’s focus is on Jihyo. Momo’s waiting for her friends, who’s slowly leaving Tzuyu’s side. Unfortunately, the cogs in Sana’s mind are too slow to process Momo's and Jihyo’s plan before they sprint into action. Jihyo snatches Nayeon’s journal and throws it Momo’s way. Momo’s quick to gather the journal and bury it in her handbag. Nayeon never stood a chance.
“Give it back!” cries out Nayeon, already on her way to climb over the table. Sana witnesses horrified as Jihyo grabs Nayeon by the back of her shirt, forcefully seating her down. Nayeon’s whines get covered up by Momo’s laugh as she fists bumps Jihyo. The latter has a devilish grin on her face, and Sana has the renewed urge to snatch her sunglasses away. She needs to see Jihyo’s eyes before they part ways.
“Guys, could you calm down? There is no way anyone is going to take our order with the way you’re behaving,” states Tzuyu, finally joining in.
“Nah, we should be fine. Jihyo has the owner in her pocket,” says Nayeon, eyes looking for a luckless server.
“Just because we share the same last name doesn’t mean I have him in my pocket, Nayeon.”
“You always get free stuffs,” points out Momo, looking over at Sana as if she could back up her statement.
“I’m pretty sure the last time I came here he made me pay twice,” pouts Nayeon.
“That’s because you are fucking annoying.”
“Jihyo,” scolds Tzuyu.
“Sorry, I meant to say it’s because you are truly fucking annoying.”
Nayeon and Tzuyu simultaneously slap Jihyo’s thigh, but the woman only barks out a laugh. The sounds reach every corner of the room, including the inside of Sana’s ribcage. She rubs at her chest uncomfortably, head tilting in confusion. At least, the sound brings a man by their table.
“Jihyo, my dear, you should have told me you were there,” starts the middle-age man, his lips set in a firm line.
“Sorry Mr. Park, I got distracted by my friends,” Jihyo apologizes, one hand coming up to adjust her sunglasses nervously.
“It’s alright, I’ll get your order sorted, and a free warm tea for yourself. You seem troubled.”
Jihyo agrees with a nod, an awkward chuckle leaving her throat. Mr. Park takes their orders and disappears behind the counter. The table is quiet for a moment, and then the teasing starts, leaving Jihyo helpless. Sana’s surprised to see Tzuyu join in once or twice, adding to Momo’s and Nayeon’s jabs. When their order arrives, Jihyo audibly sighs in relief and starts setting the drinks in front of everyone. Sana suspects she’s buying herself time.
“So, Sana,” and Sana’s startles at being addressed heads on by Jihyo for the first time. It’s an obvious attempt at getting away from her abusers, but Sana takes it. “What do you do in life?”
Sana stills for a moment. There is no humble way to announce that you model as a career, so Sana jumps right in.
“I’m a model.”
“Makes sense, you are stunning,” states Jihyo without missing a beat, eyes strained on the tea she’s adamantly stirring. Sana’s eyes grow slightly at the offhanded compliment and hopes there is no pink tinging her cheek.
“I think I saw you in a magazine once,” says Nayeon, glancing at Jihyo, who nods in agreement.
“How do you like it?” asks Jihyo, looking back at Sana, and she swears she can see the outline of her eyes through her sunglasses.
“It can be hectic.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Jihyo gets elbowed by Tzuyu and Momo knocks Jihyo’s chin with her foot. The woman groans, seating herself closer to Nayeon, whose hand finds Jihyo’s thigh. Jihyo does not offer Sana an apology but fixates Sana with a gaze she guesses to be steady. Perhaps confrontational.
“I do like it, but it can be very demanding.”
“I can imagine,” supplies Momo, and Sana recognizes it as what it is, support.
Jihyo doesn’t address her directly after that, spared from the teasing she doesn’t need a bait anymore. Sana doesn’t take it personally as Jihyo doesn’t partake in other conversations after that. She keeps to herself, quietly sipping on her tea, her attention flimsy, obviously drowsy. Sana catches Nayeon’s hand slipping under Jihyo’s sweater to stroke her back and five minutes later Jihyo’s head falls on her shoulder. Sana pictures Jihyo’s eyes fluttering close under her sunglasses, the soft puffs of air exiting her body. The scene strangely entrances Sana until Nayeon pushes back Jihyo’s glasses and presses the girl closer to her side. Sana adds a brushstroke to Nayeon’s canvas at the back of her mind. She has one for each of Tzuyu’s friend, all started on except for Jihyo’s. She needs more time, a broader palette. But Nayeon excuses herself and Jihyo and Sana watch helplessly as she tugs a sleepy Jihyo with her.
Nayeon waves them goodbye frantically, leaves a wet kiss on Momo and Tzuyu’s cheek. Sana stares in silence as the woman draws out her journal with caution and smiles when Nayeon catches her eyes. Nayeon offers her a polite nod in return.
Acquaintances it is.
Jihyo’s hardly better as she settles for mumbled farewells, her face half hidden in the hood of her sweatshirt. Momo finds it adorable, cooing at Jihyo teasingly until the woman whines. It is enough for Nayeon to lead her toward the exit, fingers intertwining. Sana follows the duo, quizzical.
She thinks there is something to inquire about there, but she has no audience. Tzuyu is scrolling on her phone and Momo is staring at Sana’s side profile. Somehow it’s predicable and Sana thinks of bringing her home. It’s been a while since she had company and she knows Momo would agree. The smiles and the lingering stares are neither discreet nor meaningless, and Sana is receptive. However, she doesn’t think Tzuyu will share her outlook, at least not right after she’d introduce them to one another.
“Do you live on your own?” asks Sana nonchalantly, hoping Tzuyu doesn’t read too much into her tone. Momo’s cheek reddens and Sana knows she got her message across.
“I live with Jihyo,” answers Momo, and before Sana has the time to backtrack on her offer, Momo moves forward, her knee colliding with Sana’s own. “But she’s staying at Nayeon tonight.”
“No.”
Sana slowly turns her head toward the voice, swallowing harshly. Tzuyu’s gaze pins the two girls, Sana stills, and Momo shudders. Tzuyu is very sweet, but Sana has collided a few too many times with her authoritative side and she wishes to stay away from it as much as possible.
No one-night stand.
The girls separate shortly after that, with Momo going back to her flat and Tzuyu dragging Sana by the wrist to the nearest bus stop. Sana has the decency to look slightly remorseful at hitting on Momo in front of Tzuyu. She’s not usually like that, but the conversation had flowed freely and the chemistry had been obvious. Yet, she admits she should have waited a bit before trying to get her into bed. She’s about to apologize, but Tzuyu shushes her as the bus approaches the bus stop.
“I don’t care if you want to sleep with Momo,” says Tzuyu calmly stepping into the bus and taping her card. Sana follows close behind, hand gripping the back of Tzuyu’s coat. “But I want you to think about your actions. She’s my friend. If you get involved with her and integrate the group, you’ll have to deal with the consequences. I don’t want any petty drama, okay?”
Sana nods obediently, eyes wide open, eager to prove her willingness. The younger girl rolls her eyes at Sana’s antics and pulls her down on the seat next to her. Sana keeps on staring at Tzuyu, trying to determinate Tzuyu’s truthfulness. The woman sighs, taking Sana by the arm, and chasing the worries away with a peaceful smile. Sana almost squeals but reins herself, careful to lengthen the embrace. She leans her head on Tzuyu’s shoulder, humming happily when Tzuyu keeps on staring at the passing vehicles.
God bless Tzuyu’s friends.