Chapter Text
The elevator dinged before its metallic doors parted, immediately after the three girls entered. Rumi and Mira held a hefty plastic bag in their hands, while Zoey slung hers on her elbow, and with each step, they shook, and the sound of plastic crinkling threatened to drown out their conversation.
Zoey took the lead, bubbly stepping forward before turning around, letting her feet guide her backwards as she looked back at the two girls, “Rumi, did you check that Fancam I sent you?! They were going crazy over your comeback performance!”
Mira nodded, nudging Rumi’s upper arm with her elbow in agreement, “That’s a nice way of putting it. They were thirsting for you, girl.”
Rumi used her free hand to brush past an unkempt hair that was hanging in front of her face, with a faint yet noticeable scarlet hue slowly growing on her cheeks. “C’mon, they weren’t that crazy about it.”
Mira shrugged her shoulders at the statement before making her last comment on it, “All I’m sayin’ is that there’s a reason we’re number one on the charts.”
Rumi rolled her eyes, but the grin that found its way to the corner of her lips spoke all the truth the other two needed to hear. The three of them placed their bags on the dining table, all of them sharing a logo of a small orange Bengal tiger sitting behind a boiling hotpot, chopsticks in hand, and a comically large tongue lapping out of its mouth. They began taking off sections of the table’s surface right by the edge near where their seats were positioned, revealing electric burners meant for cooking or heating up hotpot. Though all of the girls did have a bad habit of losing the surface covers so that it could be used as a normal table once again, just to find them in the most random of places. The worst offender was when Zoey lost the ones nearest to her seat in between the sofa cushions when she was watching a documentary on turtles.
Zoey gently grasped her container of soup broth within the bag, its warmth making it nearly impossible to grasp as her mouth responded in kind, repeating “Hot! Hot! Hot!” with the same speed as fingers tapping keys on a keyboard before setting it on the table and shaking the stinging heat out of her hands.
Rumi was the first to notice, putting a hand on Zoey’s shoulder and gently thumbing it before speaking again, “Let it cool for a sec Zo’, we still have to set up the table.”
The sudden touch made her ignore whatever sense of pain Zoey felt in her fingertips. Zoey knew she was going to be a blushing mess in T-minus like ten seconds, so she had to get something out of her mouth before then to avoid that whole situation. So soon after, she took a sharp breath and attempted to untangle the words that were caught in her throat, and the only response she could formulate in her linguistic mastery was, “yeahthetableIliketables.”
Rumi didn’t have time to dissect those words before Mira dropped her bag onto the table and grabbed her container of broth, seemingly unaffected by its heat as she dropped it near her section of the table, “Do we even have that stupid manual for it? I know there’s a bao warmer on it, but I can never get it to work…”
Zoey wiped her brow now that she was saved before Rumi would respond to Mira, “I think we threw it out by accident when we were setting it up,” Rumi spoke under her breath, her eyes staring down at the table as she tried to recall it, “But we can always look it up online.”
“But that’s so much effortttttt…” Mira jokingly dragged out her words, unable to snuff the faint chuckle when Rumi looked her way with a raised brow.
Her brow lowered almost immediately as she chuckled back before running along with the joke, “We might as well just buy another one just for the manual.”
Zoey chimed in as she grabbed the last tray of enoki mushrooms from her bag, “Then we can give the rest to Bobby! Maybe as a sorta, manager-aversary present?” The other two girls chuckled along, but then Rumi nodded along before adjusting a knob under the edge of the table near her side, and right after the burner started to glow a bright orange as it began to heat up.
“Not a bad idea, but then he’d be in the same situation as us—Mira, can you grab the pots?”
“Sure,” Mira walked over to the kitchen, which was only a few steps away and still connected to the room, so they could all hear the metallic clatter as she looked for the pots. As Zoey took her seat, clapping her hands together and pulling apart her chopsticks, eager to dig in.
Rumi joined her as well, the light from above glimmering off of her patterns, giving them a glow that resembled a faint metallic car decal. Zoey couldn’t help but stare at them; she couldn’t help but obsess about them. Not only were they just about the coolest thing ever, but it also gave Rumi a glow on the stage lights unlike any other. Depending on her position on the floor, her body gained an iridescent blue or purple, and the more Zoey rewatched their practice tapes, the more she couldn’t help but lose herself in Rumi’s choreography rather than studying her own.
Even when she was developing the lines for Come Back, the anxiety of trying to depict Rumi’s journey in lyrics adequately was overpowered by the rush Zoey gained from the trust she knew Rumi had in her. The three of them had always workshopped lyrics together in their studio, but Zoey had made sure to ask if Rumi wanted to take care of the lyrics for this one, knowing how personal this song was to her. The response? Rumi smiled sweetly, like the strawberry-crème crepes they liked to get at the stands on the side of the road. Then, all she said was, “You got it Zo’.”
Zoey usually had a response to everything—whether it was silly, serious, or just something she wanted to add to the conversation. But this? For the first time in a while, she felt her hyperactive heart kick into overdrive. She felt the blood rush to every part of her body, as her mind was already beginning the process of locking those words up in her memory forever.
She had been thinking about it ever since then. The moments when she’d hug her pillow against her body in the dead of night, staring blankly outside her glass wall as she visualized the scene over and over again in her mind. The moments when she’d hear Rumi’s voice in her ear, and wish for those words to pop into conversation so she could rearrange them in her recent memory, like a poorly edited mp3, just to hear that phrase again.
All of those pining nights made her realize something. She had a crush. Which terrified her.
“I got the hot pots,” Mira mentioned as she walked back to the table. She placed one in front of her empty chair, then the next in front of Rumi, and the last one in front of Zoey. The only thing was, right as she placed the bowl in front of Zoey, Mira’s hand grabbed her shoulder as she leaned over, giving her a face full of her long and fragrant magenta hair. Unlike Rumi, that violent pink was not Mira’s natural hair color. They could tell whenever her roots were starting to grow in black again by when she’d lock herself in the bathroom for hours at a time until the issue was fixed. They all understood since their image was incredibly important, but it led to moments when they’d have to go to their elevator to get to the bathroom on the floor below just to brush their teeth.
The constant dying meant Mira also had to take serious care of her hair to prevent it from drying out or getting permanently damaged. This list of care included: Cold showers, deep conditioning routines, buying super expensive shampoos that didn’t include sulfate, and a lot more. What did this all lead to?
Only the softest, most texturally pleasing lock of hair that was currently smothering her face. It felt like stuffing your face in a cloud made of pink cotton candy. Not to mention the smell. That punk girl bombshell perfume she always imported from America rubbed off on her hair, and mixing it with the floral shampoo made it smell like a field of flowers that were actively punching your nose in until it broke. It was a smell Zoey treasured every time it entered her nose.
Zoey was glad her indulgent grin was concealed in the few seconds Mira’s hair covered her face, or else Rumi would’ve seen just how much she was loving it. Then, just as quickly as it came, it left. Once Zoey’s bowl was placed on the burner, Mira went back to her seat.
Zoey wanted to mope, but there was no reason to; they were about to eat. The three of them were almost synchronized as they poured the broth into their bowls, and with the bright orange burner underneath them, it wasn’t long before the warm soup reached the original boiling point they bought it at. All of the raw cuts of meat they brought sat on a plate at the center of the table. They were already sectioned off into the three groups the girls would pick from.
Rumi typically favored the pork belly and seafood options like the fish cake and crab meat. Rumi always stuck with her usual options, ever since the other two first met her, but as of recently, they had been able to get her to branch out and try some of the other stuff they had on the menu. Mira was a fan of the marinated cuts, like bulgogi. They always had to call ahead to make sure she could get the ones that were marinated in the super spicy gochujang, she always liked it with the spicy miso broth too, but whenever Zoey or Rumi tried a piece it always left them running to the fridge to grab milk in an attempt to calm the hellish fire within their mouth that was somehow comfortable for Mira.
Zoey herself catered for the ribeye and small pre-cooked hamburger cuts whenever they came around a spot that had them. It was like an odd fusion of what she remembered from home and what was typical in Korea. She couldn’t really place how she felt about the hamburger stereotype that came with her ramyeon just because she was from America…but she also knew that if there was a juicy burger fresh off the grill right in front of her, she would definitely demolish it. Especially if it had the kimchi she liked to add back home as a topping.
The three of them silently began adding each of their ingredients to their pots, staring intently at their plate and chopsticks in hand, like sharks circling their meal, just waiting for it to be ready. Then, just as a few seconds passed and the meat changed color, they quickly pounced. Taking each piece that was ready and shoving it into their mouths regardless of temperature, using the carbonated sodas they had picked up on the way back to cool down the burning on their tongue in between gulps.
Then, the initial rush of hunger left, and they were civilized once more. Now patiently adding their vegetables, soybean skins, and ramen to the bowl, and taking a nice, calm pace as they silently ate. Just as Zoey shoved the last bundle of enoki mushrooms into her mouth, she saw from the corner of her eye Mira tapping her chopsticks against her plate, taking an occasional glance at Zoey before shoving her eyes straight down at her hotpot, unsure if she had noticed her or not.
Zoey didn’t think much of it until Mira cleared her throat and began to speak, “Hey—um, Zoey.” Her words sounded patchy, like for once Mira was having a hard time deciding between being direct or not, which caused her voice to be caught in the crossfire.
Zoey, who had a mouth full of enoki mushrooms that she was still crunching on, spoke through the clamored debris, causing a deep muffle, “Bwaths up?”
Mira’s chopsticks prodded at the cut of meat floating at the surface of her broth, not even noticing how overcooked it had become, “…Are you still flying over to see your parents in a week?” Her voice wasn’t somber, it was neutral if anything, but it still felt weighed down by something.
Zoey wished she could say she almost forgot about that, but she couldn’t. She’d been thinking about it ever since her parents texted her about it. Zoey swallowed her mushrooms before she nodded, and her eyes settled on the boiling cauldron beneath her as she spoke.
“Yup. Back to America. I’ll only be gone a week or two, though, so I’ll be fine.” Her voice held a falsified version of her usual optimism, like her best attempt at recreating it, as she prodded the hamburger chunk within her hotpot.
Mira and Rumi exchanged a glance before nodding to one another, and Mira would begin to speak again, “You sure you don’t want us to go with you? We can clear our schedules; it’s just a little fashion brand promo. Bobby can push that junk back another two weeks.”
“No.” Zoey's mouth spoke an answer she didn’t agree with, but she just couldn’t subject them to it; it was her problem. She gently shook her head, reaching over to the tray of vegetables and adding a few lotus roots to her pot. “It’ll be easier if it’s just me…but I’ll be fine, girls. Promise.”
“Bullshit.”
Rumi and Zoey both looked up from their hotpot. Zoey’s eyes were wide, a mix of shock and denial that this was about to occur, slowly churning in her stomach.
Rumi tried to hide the tut of disapproval, and instead covered it up by gently grabbing Mira’s forearm and saying in a hushed voice, “It’s not our business. You know we can’t—”
Agitation was ripe in Mira’s tone, not at Rumi or any particular person in the room, but rather at people who were continents away. “Oh, c’mon, Rumi! When in the past, however many fuckin’ years have we heard Zoey say anything good about her parents?”
Rumi released her grasp on Mira’s arm when the other rose from her chair. This always happened whenever Mira got heated about something. Maybe it was because of all those family photos she had to take when she was a kid, but she could never sit down when something got on her nerves. Sometimes the best remedy for her was just to pace her frustrations out from what Zoey had observed.
A part of Zoey wanted Mira to yell more, to say the things she couldn’t, to say the things she wished she could. She wanted those thoughts out in the air. But another part of her wanted to keep this under lock and key. It was her problem; it was her responsibility. All she would have to do was survive another week or two of her parents putting down her career, no matter how successful she was, and use every abusive tactic they could to convince her to move back.
She could survive that. She was a hunter, and they’ve survived numerous demons and threats beyond any normal person’s comprehension. So that meant she could handle her parents…right?
Zoey’s nails clutched the seams at the end of her hoodie sleeves, and her heart could barely handle that question. And Rumi could tell. She looked back at Zoey before standing up alongside Mira and walking over to the taller girl and whispering hushed words back into her ear. Zoey noticed Mira’s fists tightening more and more as Rumi spoke, but then letting all of her anger seep out of them as her grip loosened and her fingers were set free.
Zoey could hear snippets of Mira’s voice respond into Rumi’s ear, just loud enough for her to make out the words, “Trust me, I know.” The words were like shoving metal into a woodchipper, grating and unpleasant to push past her teeth.
Then, as if the argument ended before it began, Rumi sat back down, and Mira begrudgingly joined her. Zoey could hear her leg bouncing up and down as her sneaker's heel hit the tiled floor again and again.
“Sorry, I just—” Mira’s hand ran down her face before she continued, admitting this was especially hard for her, “I worry about this sort of thing.”
Zoey nodded, she didn’t need any more explanation, she already knew why. She just had to act happy for now, happy enough to make sure those two wouldn’t be concerned about it. Then, after two measly weeks of her life, they could go back to their normal. And she wouldn’t have to think about this.
Until next year.
And the year after that.
And the year after that.
And…
“Zoey? Hey Zo’?”
“HUHWHATSUP”
She brought her attention back to the table to find Rumi pointing at her hotpot. “You’re letting your broth boil back down into paste. We got the same one, so I can give you some of mine if you want—”
Zoey shook her head, turning the knob under her side of the table the electric burner went from a glowing orange to a pitch black. “Nah, I don’t want to stuff myself and sleep through our Netflix binging sesh again! That’d super suck.”
“Oh…Alright.” Zoey could tell Rumi didn’t believe her for a second, judging from the way her chopsticks clicked against the edge of her hotpot. But she’d be fine. She always was.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
“How about this one?”
“OOOOO—NO THIS ONE IS SO CUTE”
Zoey’s room was filled with giggles and the snapping of her camera shutter as she went about her current mission: to bedazzle the cute Tiger they had adopted! Derpy sat straight up, staring blankly ahead as Zoey adjusted the strap of his newest hat around his neck.
“Aaaand there! It’s perfect!”
Zoey took a few steps back, and once her eyes landed upon him, she couldn’t help but let out her high-pitched squeal and immediately open up her camera app to take another dozen photos. The cowboy hat she had bought for him fitted perfectly, and it made him look like a dashing bounty hunter, one who skated between the law as often as he desired, all to preserve his sense of justice…in reality, it was just a blue tiger with a comically oversized cowboy hat that covered up his ears and casted a shadow over his face. Totally adorable, nonetheless.
At first, Zoey was surprised to hear that Rumi’s…situationship? She didn’t know what to call it--had resulted in her adopting Jinu’s pet tiger and bird, but on first sight, she immediately was on board. Not totally on board with the fact that Rumi was (probably) making out with a demon, judging from the odd jealousy it made her heart feel, but other than that, total upsides!
The only thing they all had to get used to was how they could teleport wherever they wanted to, whenever they wanted to. Sure, sometimes it meant there were free cuddles coming your way with same-day delivery, but other times, like when you’re trying to take a shower, you might get an unwanted visitor.
Zoey snapped one last photo of the tiger before Derpy began to walk closer, his paws sending small vibrations through the carpet, and the sound of his claws catching and snipping some of its threads as he walked. Once he was close enough, Derpy pushed his head against Zoey’s chest, rubbing it across the hoodie she typically wore to bed. She could feel his purrs vibrate through her body as they beat like a drum, and as if it were a reflex, she put her arms around his humongous head, returning the comfort.
The only thing that interrupted their cuddle sesh was the two banging knocks at Zoey’s door. She initially looked back at the door before bringing her attention back to Derpy, as her hands moved to cup his cheeks, she spoke over her shoulder, “Come in!”
The doorknob jostled before it opened, and Mira peeked her head in before fully walking in and closing the door behind her. Zoey glanced over, giving a quaint, “Hey Mira. What’s up?”
Mira looked back at the girl in silence for a few seconds, before her hand moved to awkwardly rub the back of her neck and speak after she cleared her throat, “You, uh, got a minute? To talk?”
The initial hesitation confused Zoey, before the memory of events from earlier today reared its ugly head. No matter how stubborn or upfront Mira was, Zoey assumed that even she felt bad for bringing it up, even if Zoey didn’t hold any grudge against her for it.
“YeaYea, sure.” Zoey gave one last pat to Derpy’s head before he began to turn around, sitting up, and right on cue, his bird companion flew in from the open window and sat atop his head. Then, with a blue iridescent glow, he descended through the floor. Zoey patted the spot next to her on the edge of her bed, tilting her head slightly as she spoke, “What’s the haps?”
Mira crossed her arms before accepting the spot, causing the bed to sink in and making Zoey edge slightly closer to her. Mira’s voice felt…off. The usual strength it held felt weakened, like the microphone that was her vocal cords had been unplugged, and something more meager came out, “Hey, um, it was super not cool for me to bring that up…I know that’s your business, and it’s not right for me to try and own it even if—”
“Mira,” Zoey reached out, her hand gently met Mira’s own, intertwining their fingers with a little more strength than she had anticipated before loosening her grip, “You were just looking out for me. I totally get it!”
Zoey felt Mira return her squeeze, and in that moment, her heart stopped. Rather than the rapid beating Rumi gave her, Mira caused the constant party in her heart to settle and turn into something soothing. This was because Zoey already knew what to expect; all she had to do was wait for it.
Mira silently leaned her head in, and in response, Zoey gently tilted hers and closed her eyes, awaiting it. Then, just a moment later, she felt Mira’s lips collide with her own. They were still ripe with the scarlet lipstick Mira applied, giving a chemically sweet tone to the kiss. Mira pushed into the kiss further, causing Zoey to lean back against the bed, with her hands moving to support herself as Mira’s went to her body.
Her left hand grabbed hold of Zoey’s hip, giving it a tight enough squeeze to make her leak an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak into the kiss. God, it felt good, especially after her inevitable trip was dominating her thoughts for the entire day.
Despite that, Mira would be the one to pull back first, taking a couple of dragged breaths as Zoey stared back up at her, doing the same. No matter how parched for air she was, Zoey always found a way to sneak in a comment or two, which was what made it so enticing. Yapping her mouth off just enough to make Mira shut her up in ways she loved. It made sense. Zoey was in charge of the lyrics; her job was to let her mouth and brain ramble to create the perfect lines for their songs. But at this moment, she wished to be completely silenced.
“Guilty conscious much?” Zoey teased the other, despite the fact that she could feel Mira’s right hand slip under her hoodie and travel up to her waist, digging her grip into her skin just enough to give a personal meeting to each of Zoey’s ribs as she passed them.
Zoey bit down on her lower lip as a chill crawled through her spine, looking right back up a Mira, she could tell reciprocation was not on the menu tonight. Mira’s words came out soothingly, a promise she wanted to keep, to make it all about Zoey, “I wanna’ make it up to you, at least one more time before you leave.”
“Mira I—” Without being given the chance to speak, Mira’s left hand had already grabbed the bottom seam of Zoey’s hoodie and was begging it to pull it up and off her. Zoey wordlessly agreed, raising her arms to make the process easier. Once the article was removed, Mira tossed it to the side before running her eyes down Zoey’s now revealed frame. The most prized section of her lover was still sealed off by Zoey’s grey bralette she typically wore to bed. No need to worry about it, though; she’d make her way there soon enough.
Mira’s gaze brought a personal warmth to Zoey’s lower half, even just the gradual graces of her skin made Zoey’s toes preemptively curl as the other leaned over. With one hand, Mira grabbed Zoey’s shoulder and pushed her back onto the bed, while she fully climbed up onto it, looming over Zoey for a few moments, milking the moment for what it was worth.
Mira was already the tallest of the group, but she felt the need to extend her dominance further. She leaned over, just enough so that her head was inches above Zoey’s stomach, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time. Zoey’s bated breaths grew sharper and sharper the closer Mira got, and it was only seconds after she descended when she began to leave trails of perfectly concise kisses all around her stomach.
The scarlet lipstick left a picturesque mark of her lips each and every time, ones that glittered in the light whenever Zoey focused on them. But how could she? She was far too entranced by the constant bombardment of Mira’s lips in an area that was merely inches away from the spot she really wanted to receive that attention.
Then, as if Mira picked up on that hint, her hand gravitated towards the waistband of Zoey’s pajama pants. Before descending and gripping it, pulling it down only centimeters at a time, until her lovely mint green panties peeked out. Mira savored the sight, so much so that she stopped, pointing one of her fingers out and rubbing it atop the fabric in a circular pattern.
Zoey, as much as the touch gave her a sensation she adored, had long grown tired of the playing. She didn’t know if they’d have another chance before the week ended, so she wanted her. Now. “You’re such a tease! Get on with it before I throw a pillow at you!”
Mira confidently scoffed, letting both of her hands grab the waistband and dragging it down until Zoey’s pants were at her knees, “You’re lucky. Usually, I wouldn’t take half of this kinda’ talk before I—”
And just as the night was about to reach the moment Zoey had been waiting for, another set of knocks came at the door. The heatwave of their lust was replaced with the thunderclap of panic, and it only intensified when they heard who was behind that door.
“Zoey? Mira? Bobby tried to call, but you didn’t pick up your phones…Can I come in?”
“Shit, shit, shit,” Mira muttered under her breath as she quickly got up and off the bed. “Just give us a sec!” She shouted to the other side of the door, before grabbing the hoodie she had previously discarded and tossing it back towards Zoey.
Zoey—who was equally as terrified—was too busy pulling up her pajama pants to catch the hoodie Mira had thrown her way, and instead it hit her right in the face. Nonetheless, the second her pants were finally pulled up, she quickly grabbed the hoodie and wasted no time putting it on, pulling it down as far as it could go to ensure each of Mira’s marks were hidden.
Then, right as Mira walked up to the door, she looked back at Zoey to see if she was ready. Zoey nodded once, and Mira returned it, before twisting the knob and pulling the door open. Rumi was there, as to be expected, with her phone in one hand as she said, “What were you two up to?”
Mira already knew that if Zoey tried to answer that, she’d probably give an answer so unbelievable that Rumi would have to suspect them. So, she took initiative, “We were just talking…about stuff from earlier.”
“Oh…” Rumi nodded, as Zoey noticed some uncertainty, perhaps on even if she should’ve entered. Then, as she decided to move past it, she held out her phone to show Mira the text messages she had with Bobby, most of them only dating a few minutes ago. “The brand that wants us to promo called Bobby and said they’re moving up our appointment to tomorrow.”
“What?” Mira grabbed Rumi’s phone with no hesitation, scrolling through the texts before sighing at the confirmation of what Rumi had just said. “Don’t we get a say in this?”
Rumi shrugged her shoulders, equally as discontent as the other, “Apparently, the CEO wants to be in to see us personally or whatever, so he moved us up.”
Zoey, whose heart had finally calmed itself by this point, stepped forward to ask, “What time is it happening?”
“I’ll check with Bobby,” Rumi answered before her fingers darted across the screen, sending a text that was replied to almost instantly. Rumi’s voice came out just as shocked as her expression, as she held her phone dangerously close to her face to confirm the information she was just sent, “Six AM?!”
Mira immediately spoke out, “There’s no way I’m waking up that early for some stupid promo.”
Rumi, who was still texting as she spoke, added on, her voice teeming with frustration, “Apparently, we have to, or it isn’t happening. Ughhh, why do they get to mess with our schedules like this?” Rumi brought her hand to her temple, trying to carve through her anger before speaking again, “Well, if this is how it’s gonna’ be, I’m going to turn in early…but I’m so giving that CEO a piece of our mind tomorrow.”
Rumi gave a wave with her free hand before exiting the room, and as Zoey saw her leave, she felt something in her chest. A pain. She didn’t want Rumi to leave. She wanted her to stay and join them. But then, as the thought bounced through her mind, it only reminded her how utterly evil it was to consider that, when Mira was right in front of her. Her love for Rumi wasn’t even replacing her love for Mira; she treasured both of them in so incredibly different ways. Mira always had a fire within her that raged for what she treasured, protecting it by burning down every adversary that opposed them. While Rumi had a fire that smothered what she treasured, encasing it in its warmth, with a calm and collected passion that guided it.
That’s why Zoey’s crush terrified her. She wanted both halves of her life; she wanted everything. That greed, which she was so utterly ashamed of, was why she wanted to settle her feelings before she left. She had to end that crush, or it would ruin the life she had with Mira. She just couldn’t play both sides, not before when she moved here to join Rumi and Mira, and definitely not now.
She had one week to figure it out. A deadline.