strange bedfellows

one: how to try

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight."

Seulgi lay motionlessly on the ground, listening to the inaudible counts resonating through the empty practice room. Her chest rose and fell, expelling the little air her lungs had been accustomed to need. Beads of perspiration trickled down her forehead, reminding her that once they were mixed with the tears she shed just to debut. The lazily-painted clouds on the walls of the practice room were to create the illusion of it being more than just four walls, but after nine years on the stage, she knew the place for what it truly was: four walls.

There used to be more people there at two in the morning. Tens of people. One by one they left – the 'lucky' ones debuted, the rest either tried their luck with other agencies or returned to the world in the shadows. The idea of returning used to frighten them, as teenage trainees, because how were they to assimilate back into a world they had so excitedly left behind? Seulgi thought little about the matter – she had been the agency's golden star, and she had worked tirelessly to prove it. Her efforts aligned with her talents and she received due recognition when she needed it. She never considered going back behind the curtain.

At least, until the people closest to her also began to leave. Irene bolted out as soon as Sehun put a ring on her finger, absolutely jaded by the limelight. Wendy tried to stay for a while, but the demands of idol life proved difficult to juggle with the toils of motherhood. Joy knew she wanted to act, and somewhere along the way, Yeri decided it was her passion, too.

What is the point? Kai used to ask. Of not thinking, of working wordlessly, of the competition, of being paid pawns in a chess game, of the separation with the rest of the world, of the loneliness, of the years they had all lost. Is it really worth being a dream?

Seulgi squeezed her eyes shut. The words seemed to linger in the air. They were questions that Seulgi sometimes forgot how to answer, from a person she never ceased to remember.

Seulgi checked her watch: 2.43am. Seulgi then proceeded to check her phone: five missed calls from Jaehyun.

Two raps on the glass pane jolted her from her reverie. A familiar figure stood at the door, his dimples gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

"Still here?" smiled Jaehyun. There was something mellow and warm about his undertone, sending little butterflies fluttering inside the pit of her stomach.

"Oh, hey," she said. "I just saw your calls, sorry."

"All good. I figured you'd be here. I brought dinner."

He raised a cooler bag, making his point and putting a small smile on her face. She shifted over, mouthing a soft "thanks" and patting the now-empty spot beside her.

"So, how was your day?" she asked gingerly, watching him sit down and slowly produce several stainless-steel containers from the bag. She didn't remember when takeout became that fancy, but then again, she wouldn't put it past Jaehyun's picky palate.

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow. "You really are bad at this, huh?"

Seulgi scoffed, light red suffusing on her cheeks. "It was an honest question."

"Sure," he chuckled. "I was gaming with Johnny and Baekhyun for most of the day, at least until they got dragged off by their wives." Seulgi laughed at the thought – Wendy had been complaining about Johnny's gaming addiction for years. "Then I made this."

Seulgi immediately directed her gaze back to the steel containers. Jaehyun had finished unpacking, and the unsuspecting containers were revealed to be filled to the brim with a feast of spicy braised chicken, fried dumplings and potato noodles. Her jaw nearly dropped, completely in awe.

"You made this?" Seulgi gasped.

"Why – is that hard to believe?"

"I was under the impression you were the type to burn water," she teased. He seemed a little miffed, so she quickly squeezed his hand and grabbed her chopsticks, trying a bite of the chicken. "This is so good!"

He eyed her, still pretending to be offended. "I'm never cooking for you again, Seul."

"I was joking – please do!"

There was something nostalgic about watching Seulgi giggle mirthfully, pop a fried dumpling into her mouth and sing praises about what a good cook he was. He used to experiment wildly with his cooking, turning the trainees in the practice room into his personal guinea pigs. Seulgi was one of them, and while she started off waxing poetic, she eventually became quite honest about his lesser attempts. His chocolate beef ribs, he remembered, nearly made her gag. Even he admitted that it was pretty shit.

To think we were still in our teens, Jaehyun chuckled to himself, shaking his head. Neither of them would have predicted such an outcome at the time.

"Hey, Jaehyun?" Seulgi said, punctuating his thoughts. "You know... I'm sorry."

Jaehyun looked up, staring into her eyes. There was a twinge of remorse and embarrassment dusting her face. "Hmm?"

"I'm sorry for, you know, all of this," she gestured, not fully sure what she was gesturing at. Judging by her glowing reviews of his food, he guessed that she wasn't referring to his cooking.

It had been close to a month since he had popped the question at the concert, since they had made a mutual agreement to "try things out". He had tried to ask her out, but timing had always been a problem. When she was taking guitar lessons in Seoul, he was in Iceland for a variety show. When he was back and with bulks of free time, she suddenly had fifty new schedules, some of which she probably was glad for. Like someone –him or her, still unclear– thought it was a cosmic sign that they wouldn't work out.

"It's just feels a bit strange," Seulgi admitted, looking slightly apologetic.

She wasn't wrong, Jaehyun knew. They had been friends and colleagues for thirteen years, perhaps even competitors for the first half. If he hadn't chosen to sit beside her that one fateful, drunken night, he could have made out with someone else.

"Nothing's changed, Seul," he said. He shifted to her, letting his shoulders press against hers. He figured that was telling enough. "If it helps, we can take off any formal titles. Just tell people it's complicated and shit. I can call you 'noona' too, to add to the romance."

"God no!" Seulgi exclaimed, bursting into laughter. "Please don't. You know that's not what I meant."

He smiled. "I know." His hand found hers, fingers slowly tangling in each other. "Then don't think too much. Focus on your next performance."

Seulgi gazed at Jaehyun, letting the warmth of his touch seep through her skin. The butterflies were up and at it again. She wasn't going to tell him that, though.

She plucked a dumpling from one of the containers and held it to him. He took a bite, eyes widening. "Hey, this is pretty good."

"Told you. I'll let you take the credit today."

They laughed and started chattering about all the other stupid things under the sun – how she was about to pass out from the difficulty of her new choreography, his devastating loss at one of his games because Johnny was a moron who K.O.-ed too many times, and that next time, he would teach Seulgi how to play. They somehow managed to finish everything Jaehyun cooked, despite Seulgi's complaints that she needed to diet and Jaehyun rightly pointing out that she could've protested before she started eating, and decided to watch a movie.

Five minutes in, Seulgi's head fell to his shoulder, with eyes closed and her mouth half-open. A sheen of sweat coated her forehead – evidence of her hard work.

Jaehyun chortled, patting her head with a towel. He draped one side of his jacket over her left shoulder, and the other side over his right. He quietly rested his head on top of hers, closing his eyes.

The last thing he saw before he drifted off into slumber was their reflection in the mirror – two tired performers, idols, stars, whatever, finding at least some kind of solace in the darkness of the practice studio.