Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mira’s body moves smoothly as the instructor calls out directions, her long pink hair swept up into a hasty ponytail that tickled her bare waist as she moves across the studio under the bright fluorescent lights.

For as long as she could remember, Mira had always danced. Ballet, jazz, contemporary, she ate it up, breathed it like it was the only thing that mattered to her. And for a long time, it was. Even now, she felt a call to it, a call she couldn’t escape, no matter how hard she tried.

“Mira, you have exceptional form, but you’re a bit tense today! Let’s loosen up, yeah?” The instructor, Ms. Han, called out across the room, her sharp eyes missing nothing. Mira nods in affirmation, and rolls out her shoulders during a short break between sets. She can hear several of the girls and even some of the boys whistling, and honestly, Mira couldn’t necessarily blame them. But her mind wasn’t focused on her peers, not really.

Ever since the night Rumi had woken up screaming, there was a noticeable shift in the way Mira, Zoey and Jade held themselves around Rumi, as if she were glass, as if one misinterpreted word could send the lavender haired girl spiraling. Mira could still hear the raw terror in Rumi’s voice, the fear in her eyes, and it broke her heart.

Mira sighs and shakes her head, reaching down next to her to grab her water bottle to take a drink. The marley under her feet was cool yet warm in a way that was comforting and isolating at the same time. Mirrors lined the wall furthest from the door, and adjacent to that was a built in barre that ran along the wall. 

Ms. Han claps her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, alright. I know everyone’s ready to go home, but we can run through the choreography once more, full out, or twice more but just marking it.” Several of Mira’s classmates groan, but everyone unanimously agrees to do it once full out. Ms. Han nods knowingly, and waves a hand, letting everyone move to their positions on the floor. 

Mira lets out a slow, even breath as she settles into position, her hands tightening her ponytail so it doesn’t come out as she’s dancing. The music starts, and she mentally counts the beats before she starts moving in perfect sync with her classmates.

Mira’s movements are languid yet precise, a controlled flow from years of dancing. She imagines herself on stage, performing in front of a crowd, and puts all her energy into making her performance believable. 

By the time the choreography is half over, Mira’s lungs are burning sharply, her breaths come in heavy pants, and her legs are on absolute fire. But she doesn’t give up, or give less energy. She pushes through the pain, almost welcoming it in an odd way. Pain means I’m improving. Pain means I’m getting better. She thinks to herself as she dips and shifts between her classmates.

The choreography ends with a solo part that hadn’t been assigned to anyone yet, but they all knew it in case Ms. Han decided it would go to them for the time being. “Mira, solo.” Ms. Han calls out, and Mira internally dies a little as she smoothly shifts to the center.

Her body already knew what to do; three pique turns moving to the left before a series of quick chaine turns, followed by a calypso to the floor in a left split, which of course, gave Mira far too much time to think. She finds her spot, and starts turning on instinct, her head whipping around again and again until she’s on the floor in the splits. She holds her position for a few more seconds before Ms. Han claps her hands together again.

“That was perfect! Alright, guys, get out of here. Enjoy your next couple of days off. I’ll see you on Wednesday.” Ms. Han says, officially signaling the end of class. Mira moves to grab her things, and heads toward the door. As she exits the dance studio, someone grabs her arm, effectively redirecting her momentum as she whirls around to face the person.

“What the hell, Mira?” Skylar says, her voice low. “I texted you, and you left me on fucking read. Like, do you even-”

“I didn’t respond because I had nothing to say, Sky.” Mira deadpans, her eyes meeting the shorter’s evenly. Skylar’s face reddens slightly as her jaw clenches.

“What, and I mean this so literally, the actual fuck , Mira? You said-”

“What I said doesn’t fucking matter, Sky.” Mira hisses, her patience visibly wearing thin. “You knew what I wanted when we first started whatever the fuck this is. You knew I didn’t want anything serious. So what are you doing, coming to my space to bother me, to pester me, to beg for my affection?” Skylar’s face falls, and Mira almost regrets what she said. 

“You… you were just using me?” Skylar whispers, and Mira sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You just wanted sex? Is that it? Really, Mira?” 

“Is that what you want to hear? That I just used you? Will that make it easier for you?” Mira asks, and Skylar shrinks away from the subtle hostility in her tone. “Fine. I used you, Skylar. I slept with you just because I could. And now? We’re done. It’s over. Happy?” 

Skylar scoffs, her eyes filling with tears slightly. “You can’t just-” But Mira isn’t having it.

“I can, and I did. This is what you wanted, right? For me to either take you out on a proper date or to put an end to whatever this was. So I ended it. Goodbye, Skylar.” Mira says before prying Skylar’s hand from her arm and moving toward the door.

{x-o-x-o}

Rumi could tell Mira was in a mood the moment the front door slammed shut, making the windows rattle in their boxes and the mug of tea that sat on the coffee table rumble.

“Mira?” Rumi calls out hesitantly, standing up and moving toward the kitchen, where she could hear Mira rooting around in the cabinets for something. When she gets into the room, she sighs softly, leaning against the doorjamb.

Mira looked a mess, with her long pink hair in a sloppy ponytail, her usually perfect makeup smudged around the eyes. But the biggest thing Rumi noticed was the way Mira’s hands shook as she pulled down a bottle of vodka from the cabinet. 

Rumi steps further into the kitchen, letting Mira take one shot before she snatches the bottle from Mira’s hands. “No more.” Rumi says, her voice gentle but firm as she puts the bottle back up in the cabinet. 

Mira doesn’t seem to notice, or she doesn’t really care as she slams the shot back, the bitterness of the alcohol running straight down her esophagus and burning it immediately. “I broke up with Skylar.” She says through a cough as she sets the shotglass back onto the counter. “Broke up, ended, whatever you want to call it.” 

Rumi raises an eyebrow as she crosses her arms over her chest, leaning against the opposite counter as she observes Mira for a moment. “Skylar? The girl you were-”

“Yes, that girl.” Mira cuts Rumi off with a glare that lacked its usual heat. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, honestly.”

“Better to let it out than let it consume you.” Rumi murmurs, and Mira’s eyes snap to the shorter girl, her eyes searching Rumi’s brown ones for an answer she wasn’t sure she was even ready for. “Can I ask why you ended things with her?” Rumi asks after a few beats of silence, her eyes full of genuine interest rather than judgement.

Mira sighs and, with a sound of mild impatience, she pulls her hair tie out to give her hands something to do while she talked. “I have a bad habit of running when things get too… real. Too messy, too… complicated.” Mira admits softly, her eyes on everything but Rumi, as if she were afraid of being too seen in this moment.

Rumi nods slowly, processing what Mira had said. “Do you know… why you run?” Rumi asks gently, her hand raising to rest on Mira’s arm before she thinks better of it and pulls back, letting her hand drop to her side awkwardly. Mira gives her a look of exasperation, biting her lip as she debates with herself to spill her darkest secrets with this girl she barely knew.

“My… parents. They didn’t really… show me a lot of affection growing up. Almost never, actually. And when they did, it was always… I dunno… emotionless? I guess?” Mira says finally. 

“Ah… I see.” Rumi murmurs in return, her expression now thoughtful. “Correct me if I’m wrong here, but… the thought of receiving love now, as an adult… it’s…overwhelming, right?”

Mira’s head shoots up, her eyes wide with something akin to shock. “How did you-”

Rumi cuts Mira off, a bittersweet smile on her face. “You and I are alike in that way, I think. Fear of being loved, fear of being alone.” And, suddenly, everything makes sense to Mira. The way she actively sought out affection, but once she had it, she shied away from it. The one night stands, the situationships, then running when it got too real, too raw .

“I hate you.” Mira mutters under her breath, but there’s no bite to her voice. “I hate that you just read me like a book.”

Rumi shrugs, grabbing the shot glass from the counter and bringing it to the sink to wash. “Like I said, we’re a lot alike in that way.” Rumi says evasively, rolling up the sleeves of her sweatshirt as she starts washing the glass.

Mira snorts softly as Rumi shuts off the water and sets the glass in the drying rack, her hands moving to run over her sweatpant-clad thighs. “Yeah, okay.” Mira murmurs. Rumi shoots Mira a half-smile, her mouth opening to respond before she’s interrupted by an incoming call on her phone.

Rumi sighs and pulls her phone out of her pocket, and freezes when she sees the caller ID. Celine? Now?

Rumi glances between her phone and Mira, making up a lame excuse before she runs upstairs to the safety of her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

{x-o-x-o}

Celine had always done a superb job at making Rumi feel small, insignificant. Like she was the problem, like she didn’t deserve love and affection. Hearing her aunt’s voice for the first time in almost a month felt surreal, like she was stuck back in her fourteen year old self’ body again.

“Hi, Aunt Celine.” Rumi says into the phone, her voice soft, timid.

“Rumi Mae Kang, why the hell haven’t you called me?” Celine’s voice, low, cold, dangerous echoes through the phone along with the sound of something being hit hard. Rumi flinches at the sound, her nose filling with the phantom scent of alcohol on Celine’s breath despite their distance.

“I… I was still settling-” Rumi starts, but a scoff from Celine silences her immediately.

“I don’t give a fuck about your excuses, Rumi. You should’ve called.” Celine snarls through the phone, her voice tightening with anger. “Anyway. I need fifty bucks.”

Rumi’s eyebrows knit together. “What? No, I don’t have that kind of-”

“Figure it out, Rumi. I don’t care how you get it.” Rumi’s throat tightens painfully, and she can feel herself cracking under the pressure of Celine’s demand.

“Aunt Celine-”

“God, Rumi, you’re so ungrateful! I did everything for you, clothed you, housed you after your mother died and this is how you repay me? By refusing to give me money when I need it?” Celine yells, her words slurring slightly. 

Rumi bites her lip, torn between hanging up on Celine and facing her wrath later or caving in and sending Celine fifty dollars now just to appease her. 

As if the gods were looking after her, a knock comes at Rumi’s door, and she exhales softly with relief. “Aunt Celine, I have to go. I’ll call you back later.” Rumi says, and hangs up the phone before hearing Celine’s reply. She knew she’d pay for it later, but for now, it felt like a win. 

Rumi composes herself before swinging the door open to see Mira standing there. “Oh. Mira.” Rumi says, surprise in her expression. 

Mira glances at Rumi, to her fisted hands, and nods knowingly. “Family troubles?” Mira asks casually, but it's not a question. Rumi nods shortly as she pockets her phone.

“You could say that.” Rumi replies coolly, leaning against the doorway. “Was there something you wanted, or…?”

Mira shakes herself visibly. “Yeah, right. So, Jade, Zoey and I were gonna watch a movie, wanna join? Zoey and Jade still have to shower, but-”

“Sure. I’d like to.” Rumi says, cutting Mira off with a half-forced smile. Mira nods slowly before stepping away from Rumi’s door. 

“Half an hour. Don’t be late.” She says before walking down the hall to her own room. Rumi lets her door shut before moving to flop onto her bed with a heavy sigh. No matter how hard she tried to shake it, she could still feel the weight of Celine’s words pressing against her ribs, her shoulders, shoving so deeply into her mind that she partially wished she could rip it out of her brain and toss it aside forever.

But Celine was the last thing Rumi had left of her mother, so who was she to cast her aside like that?

{x-o-x-o}

Zoey could feel a certain sort of tension as she flopped onto the couch next to Mira, her legs gently dropping into the older girl’s lap as she scrolled through streaming services on the TV. Jade sat on the opposite couch, and Rumi hadn’t come down to the living room yet.

“So… what are we in the mood for?” Zoey asks after a long minute of silence. Mira shrugs as Jade picks up her phone to check some of the movies that had come out recently.

“We could watch Turning Red again.” Jade says after a moment, and Zoey’s eyes instantly brighten.

“Oh my god, yes, we should watch Turning Red!” Zoey gasps, and cues up the movie as Rumi comes downstairs, her posture hunched in a way that looked like she was trying to be invisible. “Hey, Rumi!” Zoey says brightly as she sets the remote down.

Rumi smiles wanly as she carefully sits down next to Jade, her eyes slightly red rimmed, as if she’d been crying. Zoey wants to ask if she’s okay, but the intro sequence starts, and she completely forgets.

As the movie goes on, Jade, Zoey and Mira exchange worried glances. They had never seen Rumi so… withdrawn before, like she was willing herself to take up as little space as possible, and it concerned them. About halfway through the movie, Jade shifts closer to Rumi, letting her arm press against Rumi’s as she casually leans forward slightly.

Rumi’s breath catches in her throat as Jade’s warmth spills through the arm of her sweatshirt, seeping deeply into her skin. It shocked her how instantly she felt comfortable with the touch, how easily she let herself fall into it. But what surprised her more was the way her body instantly craved more of it.

Just as the credits roll, Zoey gets a text on her phone. “Hey, guys? Roman just invited us to a party. It starts in an hour.” She says as she reads over the message.

“A party, huh?” Mira hums nonchalantly, though the glimmer in her eyes betrays her excitement.

“Well, I’m in. I haven’t been to a party in ages.” Jade says, standing up from her spot next to Rumi.

“If Jade’s going, I’m going.” Zoey agrees, standing up. “Rumi, what about you?”

Rumi fidgets with her hands, shifting uncomfortably. She had never been to a party before, and while she wanted to go, she knew she didn’t have anything to wear to it. “Um… I think I’ll pass. I don’t have anything to wear, anyway.” She says finally, and Mira snorts.

“We can find you something, if you really want to go.” Mira hums as she stands up as well. “Besides, you only go to college once.” Mira extends a hand to Rumi, a very obvious invitation to let Mira, Zoey and Jade show her what a party feels like, even if it's just this once. Rumi hesitates, biting her lip thoughtfully before taking Mira’s hand.

“Oh, hell yes. Let’s go get ready! Mira, you should probably help Rumi, since you're a fashion major.” Zoey says as she tugs Jade up the stairs. The two disappear into their separate rooms, and Mira turns to Rumi.

“Ready?” She asks softly, and after a slight pause, Rumi nods. 

“Yeah. Let’s do this.”

{x-o-x-o}

After about an hour of Mira sifting through Rumi’s closet to find suitable clothes for her to wear to a party, Rumi descends the stairs, avoiding the creaky ones as usual. Her hands smooth over her skirt for the millionth time as she reaches the bottom step. Jade and Zoey, who had been putting on their shoes at the door (because of course all their shoes were piled by the front door, even Rumi’s), look up at the sound of Rumi’s weight hitting the floor, and their jaws drop.

Rumi wasn’t wearing anything too crazy; a black tank top that laced up the sides (thanks to Mira letting her borrow it) and a dark plum skirt that hugged her hips, with a little slit at the side of her left thigh. Black fishnet leggings clung to her legs, and they were stuffed into a pair of black Doc Martens (her favorite shoe, by far).

Her long lilac hair was down mostly, with a few braids scattered throughout. Each braid was adorned by little silver charms, some that looked like stars, others like moons. Her makeup, which she did so infrequently that Mira had to do it for her, was dark and smoky, her eyeshadow done in black and browns while a black eyeliner wing elongated her eyes to make them look sharper, fiercer than she actually felt. She had on some silver jewelry that worked well with her outfit, like a few silver bangles on each wrist and a couple borrowed pieces from Mira.

Jade is the first to recover, her jaw audibly snapping shut. “Holy… Rumi, you look… wow .” Jade says, words failing her for once as she tries to articulate just how sinful Rumi looked.

“Rumi… that look… is absolutely criminal .” Zoey agrees, her voice soft in a reverent kind of way that made something in Rumi’s chest feel warm and her face flush pink.

“You think so? Mira dressed me, so…” Rumi trails off, her eyes flickering between Zoey and Jade, then to Mira, who had come down the stairs behind her. Zoey, Jade and Mira all nod at the same time.

“You look hot, Ru.” Mira murmurs from behind Mira. The nickname wasn’t uncommon to Rumi, but the way Mira said it? God , she made it sound like a prayer, and that? That sent Rumi’s stomach into a tight knot, like she was being worshipped, and she didn’t know what to do with that feeling.

As she gets closer to Zoey and Jade, she gets a chance to look at the two of them clearer. Jade was in this short, emerald green silk dress that made her legs look entirely too long (which made Rumi’s heart flutter unexpectedly) with her hair in bouncy, dark red curls that hung to her waist, and Zoey wore a white cropped front tie shirt with a light blue and white pencil miniskirt, much like Rumi’s own plum skirt, with light, shimmery blue eyeshadow that complimented her skintone beautifully. Zoey’s hair was pulled back into a sleek but spiky claw clip style that Rumi knew she could never pull off with her thick hair.

“Oh, hey, Ru, come here. There’s one last thing.” Mira says, and moves next to Rumi, holding a brown perfume bottle. She spritzes it on Rumi’s pulse points and her wrists. Instantly, Rumi’s surrounded by the scent of honey, chocolate, roses, what she could only describe as amber, and something else that screamed sex appeal that she couldn’t quite name.

“Woah, Mira’s pulling out the big guns.” Zoey says, nodding approvingly to Mira. “‘Invite Only Amber’ is such a Rumi scent.” Rumi’s eyebrows furrow with confusion.

“‘Invite Only Amber’? What’s that?” Rumi asks, and Mira chuckles, setting the perfume bottle down onto the entryway table, making a mental note to grab it when they come back before Zoey stole it from her.

"It's just the name of the perfume, Rumi, relax.” Mira says, and Rumi nods, but she doesn’t look entirely convinced. Before she can say more, though, Jade grabs her hand, pulling her toward the door. 

“Come on, come on, come on! We’re going to miss the party!” Jade says, pulling a bewildered laugh from Rumi as she follows Jade to the door. 

By the time they get to the address that the party is being hosted at, there are already tons of college aged people milling around, some sporting bottles of soju, others of cocktails that Rumi could only assume were being made by the host. Zoey,  ever the social butterfly, zips away to find Roman (whoever he was) to thank him for the invite while Mira, Rumi and Jade milled around, occasionally saying hi to classmates as they passed. 

The bass from the speakers filled Rumi’s chest, her heart seemingly thrumming in time with the music, and while she didn’t feel totally at ease, she relaxed a little. That didn’t last long, however, as Rumi stepped into the kitchen behind Mira and Jade. Dozens of eyes were on the three of them in an instant, and Rumi had half a mind to turn around and go home. Jade stopped her, though, by pushing a drink into Rumi’s hands. “It’s just coke, no alcohol, I promise.” Jade says into Rumi’s ear, her hand rested on her shoulder gently to steady the both of them.

Despite what Jade had said, Rumi still took a cautionary sniff before taking a sip of the fizzy soda, and she relaxes further when she realizes it really was just soda. Jade nods in solidarity, raising her own cup to Rumi before taking a sip.

The four of them circle back up in the living room, where the bass was the strongest. And, despite her initial uneasiness, Rumi can feel herself getting more comfortable, more used to the (mildly) controlled chaos that was Roman’s party. About an hour into the party, Rumi’s giggling and laughing at stupid jokes Jade and Zoey kept cracking, her cheeks hurting from smiling so much.

Rumi stumbles into the kitchen again, ready to take a moment away from everything to clear her head when she feels hands wrapping around her wrist, pulling her back. She turns around to see a man, maybe a few years older than herself, his hair perfectly styled and his button up shirt somehow still clean.

“I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new?” He asks, his voice smooth and confident. Rumi shakes her head, offering him a tight smile.

“No, not new. I live around here and attend the college nearby.” She says, being intentionally vague. The man’s grip tightens ever so slightly, enough for Rumi to wince slightly.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I’m Jinu Park. I’m the current head of the college’s frat. What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“I’m-” Rumi starts, but a hand wrapping around her waist makes her stop speaking. 

“She’s with me. Back off, Jinu.” A low, familiar voice says. Rumi doesn’t even have to turn her head to know it was Jade standing next to her, her arm wrapped around her waist possessively. Rumi’s face flushes as Jade shifts closer to her, her fingers digging into her skin just slightly, enough to suggest she and Rumi were an item. Jinu scowls at Jade, and lets go of Rumi’s wrist, muttering as he walks away. 

“God, men like that have no fucking respect.” Jade mutters, then glances down at Rumi. “You good, Ru?” Rumi nods, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for the save.” Rumi says, and makes to step away, but Jade just tightens her grip on Rumi’s waist, her hand sliding a bit lower, to her hip, and squeezes gently. 

“Why don’t you stay with me for now, yeah? Don’t want other guys or girls thinking you’re available to be hit on.” Jade says casually, but the words make Rumi blush hard at the implications of them. She nods, and lets Jade pull her back into the party, red and purples and blues flashing together in her mind to create a kaleidoscope of colors in her mind.