Tangled Strings

Chapter 10: Escape

The bass thumped through the walls, vibrating the floor beneath Chiquita’s feet. Neon lights flickered in erratic patterns, casting shadows across the crowded living room where bodies swayed and laughter echoed. The party was in full swing—someone's house, someone's birthday, someone important enough to pull in half the school.

Chiquita wasn’t sure why she came.

Maybe it was Asa’s relentless nagging, trying to pull her out of the fog she'd been trapped in since that night at the showcase. Maybe it was Rora’s gentle suggestion that she needed a break, a distraction. Or maybe—if she was honest—it was because she knew Ahyeon would be here.

And part of her, the reckless, self-destructive part, wanted to see if Ahyeon would look at her.

If she'd feel something.

But as Chiquita stood there, a drink in her hand she barely tasted, she wondered if it was a mistake. The memory of Ahyeon’s words at the showcase still echoed in her mind like a cruel refrain.

"Chasing things they’ll never have."

Her fingers tightened around the cup. The alcohol burned as she downed the rest in one go, the warmth spreading through her chest but doing nothing to numb the sting that still clung to her ribs.

She scanned the room, the lights blurring faces and colors into a hazy swirl. Ruka was tucked into a corner with some friends, laughing softly at something someone said. Rora was by the makeshift DJ booth, nodding to the beat with a lazy grin. Asa—well, Asa had been keeping a watchful eye on her all night, hovering nearby like a silent anchor.

But Chiquita didn’t want to be anchored.

Not tonight.

She wanted to float. To get lost in the noise, in the haze of alcohol and neon lights. She wanted to forget.

And then she saw her.

A girl leaning against the kitchen counter, dark hair falling over one eye, a smirk playing at her lips as she locked eyes with Chiquita across the room. She was pretty—not Ahyeon, but pretty. And most importantly, she was looking at Chiquita the way Chiquita wanted to be looked at.

Like she was wanted.

Without thinking, Chiquita moved. Her feet carried her across the room before her mind could catch up, weaving through the crowd until she was standing right in front of the girl.

“Hey,” the girl said, her voice low and flirtatious. She tilted her head, studying Chiquita with interest. “You’re in that band, right? Baemon?”

Chiquita chuckled, the sound feeling foreign in her throat. “Guilty.”

The girl’s smile widened. “You’re even hotter in person.”

And just like that, something in Chiquita snapped.

Without another word, she leaned in, her lips crashing against the girl’s with a fierce urgency that surprised even her. The girl responded immediately, her hands sliding into Chiquita’s hair, pulling her closer as their bodies pressed together.

It was messy, reckless, and loud.

And it was exactly what Chiquita needed.

At least, that’s what she told herself.

The crowd around them started to notice. Whispers and giggles spread like wildfire, but Chiquita didn’t care. She wanted them to see. She wanted her to see.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew Ahyeon was here. She had to be.

And maybe, just maybe, she was watching.

The thought sent a bitter thrill through Chiquita’s chest, and she deepened the kiss, her fingers digging into the girl’s waist as if she could drown out the ache in her heart with the taste of someone else.

But no matter how hard she tried, Ahyeon’s face lingered behind her closed eyes.

---

Across the room, Ahyeon was watching.

She had been the moment Chiquita walked in.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, that’s what she told herself. But as soon as she saw Chiquita step through the door, something in her chest tightened. She tried to brush it off, turning her attention back to Rami and Pharita, pretending to listen as they discussed the next student council event.

But her eyes kept drifting back.

To her.

To Chiquita.

And when she saw Chiquita make her way toward that girl—the one with the dark hair and the bold smile—something unfamiliar twisted in her stomach.

She told herself it was annoyance. Frustration. Chiquita was always doing this, throwing herself at people, desperate for attention.

But as she watched Chiquita kiss that girl like the world was ending, Ahyeon knew that wasn’t it.

It wasn’t annoyance.

It wasn’t frustration.

It was jealousy.

Hot and sharp, coiling in her chest like a vice.

Her jaw clenched, and she forced herself to look away, to focus on the meaningless conversation happening around her. But no matter how hard she tried, her mind kept replaying the image of Chiquita’s hands in that girl’s hair, her lips curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

And for the first time, Ahyeon wondered if maybe she had pushed too far.

If maybe, she had finally lost something she didn’t even realize she wanted.

---

Back in the kitchen, Chiquita finally pulled away, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The girl was grinning, her hands still tangled in Chiquita’s hair.

“You’re a good kisser,” she murmured, her lips brushing against Chiquita’s ear.

Chiquita forced a smile, but it felt hollow. “Thanks.”

But as she stepped back, putting distance between them, the emptiness in her chest grew. The taste of the girl’s lips still lingered, but it did nothing to erase the burn of Ahyeon’s words, the sting of her indifference.

Because no matter how many people Chiquita kissed, no matter how many times she tried to lose herself in someone else, it was always Ahyeon.

It would always be Ahyeon.

And that realization hurt more than anything.

As she slipped through the crowd, leaving the girl behind without another word, Chiquita felt the weight of it settle on her shoulders.

She had wanted to forget.

But all she had done was remind herself of how impossible that really was.

And somewhere, deep down, she wondered if Ahyeon had seen.

If Ahyeon had felt something.

Because if she hadn’t…

Chiquita wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep pretending she didn’t care.