Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“MIN-HO!” KITTY SLAMMED A PIECE OF PRINTED PAPER ON HIS DESK, glare evident even from miles away. “I know you wrote this about me!” It was an excerpt from an article he was in the midst of writing about the new trends of the season; the section she was peeved about placed on Professor Finnerty’s desk for proofreading.  

Lazy, he glanced away from his laptop to the paper and shrugged. “No one should wear yellow, Kitty. It’s nothing personal.”

Her eyes narrowed and she checked if the other members of the newspaper caught that comment. Somehow, no one did—or no one dared to react to Min-ho. Probably the latter. Their editor-in-chief, Alex, sat beside Madison, as oblivious as always to their bickering. People have speculated the physics-slash-EIC teacher was partially deaf. 

“Writing about fashion doesn’t mean you’re allowed to say that ‘people that wear yellow deserve to get put in detention’,” she argued. 

The boy shot her that stupid smirk of his. “Afraid?” 

Rolling her eyes with a huff, she returned to her desk and tried to focus on her own task at hand. Unlike Min-ho, this poor soul in her inbox actually deserved her attention. 

~*~*~

Dear Kitty,

I’ve been at K.I.S.S. for two years now, but I still haven’t made any friends. My roommates are nice, but I just can't seem to connect with them, or anyone—not in class or clubs. I feel incredibly lonely… 

My parents are considering sending me back to my home country if things don’t get better. But honestly, that would be a worse fate than loneliness.

Any tips for me? Even a small change would help me, I think. 

— Lonely Boy

~*~*~

Kitty pouted. This message was so sad. The Weekly K.I.S.S. often received questions about love and relationships — Kitty Song-Covey, resident columnist and matchmaker at your service! — which made messages like these more surprising. The boy was courageous to send such an intimate issue.

Placing her fingers on the keyboard, then carefully pressed the first letter. 

~*~*~

Dear Lonely Boy, 

Loneliness is a terrible thing and I’m so sorry K.I.S.S. isn’t as accommodating as you had hoped.

Loneliness, however, can be found in the same places as joy. An open field, a bouquet of flowers, the last dregs in the coffee maker, the top of the hill, music bleeding through someone's headphones. I hope you’ll make friends, but I urge you to create contentment yourself. 

It is within you. You can create joy. 

But hey, don’t give up on the K.I.S.S. kids yet! Sit next to a new person for your next class. Greet them. Who knows, maybe you’ll find a similarity!

XO, Kitty

~*~*~

A voice behind her scoffed, contempt and British soil evident in his breath. “That’s like telling a depressed person to stop being sad.” 

She scowled at Min-ho. “I’m not allowed to give advice that costs money, like going to a therapist. You know, Min-ho, this is harder than it looks! My work is difficult and valuable and—!”

“Covey,” he cut in, pained, “your American is showing. Dial it down a notch, hm?” 

God, he was so infuriating! He never sided with her, he always found things to bicker over, he relished seeing her angry—he was a demon in designer jeans. Sure, had she been the crazy one for following her soon-to-be ex-crush to Seoul to attend K.I.S.S.? Absolutely.

But here, she had found herself. She wasn’t in her last year of K.I.S.S. because of Dae. She was here because she fucking loved it here. Min-ho was just the thorn in the very pretty rose that was her life. 

With a huff, she whipped her head back to her article: “If you have nothing better to say, then leave.” She pointed to the 'NO BAD VIBES' poster on the wall — also a Kitty gift to the school — and added: “Your bad energy is not needed.”

“Whoa, Kitty.” Right then, Alex bothered to intervene with their squabble. Pushing his glasses up his nose, his eyes flitted between the two disgruntled teenagers. “Let’s all take a deep breath. I read this article that we as a society don’t breathe enough. Let’s do it, yeah,”

“Professor Finnerty,” Min-ho cut in. “I breathe enough. I meditate each night while I do red light therapy.”

Kitty and Alex blinked at him, dubious, and the latter slowly continued his speech. “That’s great, Min-ho. Uh, then… then let’s do it the old-school way. Why don’t you guys take over Hinata’s item since she’s sick?”

Dread dropped to the bottom of Kitty’s stomach. First of all, she barely worked with people for the paper. She wrote her ‘XO, Kitty’ column and about a school event and that was usually it. Sometimes Alex involved her in the lay-out of the newspaper if they had time left. But she’s never worked with Min-ho on an article. Alex had never stooped that low. This… this was the purest form of punishment. 

Min-ho seemed equally perturbed. “Professor Finnerty, with all due respect, but… no. I cannot work with Kitty.”

“We don’t mesh well,” she added as politely as possible. ‘Meshing’ was an understatement. They were like oil and water.    

“Too bad,” Alex replied, far too jolly, and tore a paper from his notebook with the details of Hinata’s article. He handed it to Kitty. “It’s a lifestyle article, so it’s up your alley.”

“I–I’m still working on the fashion article,” tried Min-ho, a last attempt at saving themselves. For once, Kitty was on his side and nodded in support. 

But Alex couldn’t be moved. He said that Min-ho could work on it on his own time and that they should make plans to go to the restaurant that was opening close-by in Seodaemun-gu. Kitty was gutted. She didn’t understand why teachers forced people that disliked each other to work together. Sometimes, communication wouldn’t improve the situation. Sometimes, people just needed to stay as far away from each other as possible. LJ and Margot would agree with her. 

Kitty huffed, frustration gritting her teeth together, and resumed working on the column without sparing another glance at Min-ho for the rest of the club meeting. Not even Mi-hee’s silly jokes or Haeyoon’s candy supply alleviated her spirit. Of course, Madison with her utter lack of tact, tried buttering up to Min-ho and suggesting they worked together on the lifestyle article, but Alex has swooped in to reject the idea. 

God, she couldn’t wait to tell Q and Yuri about all of this. 

After the newspaper club, Kitty realised that if they wanted to stay on Alex’ good side, she actually had to talk to Min-ho and, like, make plans. Catching up to him in the hallway, she called out: “Min-ho!” The boy’s swagger grabbed the attention of all the girls standing in the corridor. Forcing herself to ignore it, she continued: “Min-ho, about the article on the vegan kimchi bar—”

“You’ll do the photos, I’ll do the interview and write the text,” he deadpanned – nay, ordered – without halting his stride.  

She frowned. “You’re horrible with service workers. I should do the interview.”

He gawked. “I’m great with service workers! People love me!”

“Your followers love you,” she argued. “Fans that love k-beauty are into you. Not that guy at the noodle shop you argued with.”

That made him stop in his tracks and turn towards her. She knew she pushed a button there. It helped that, despite their animosity, they shared the same group of friends and often, begrudgingly, hung out together. “He made my bibim guksu without wearing a hair net! I deserve a clean and hygienic bowl of noodles!”

“You made him cry.”

“Kitty, you can barely speak Korean and not everyone speaks English.” Min-ho smirked and placed a hand on his chest. “Just let me do my thing, Covey.”

Kitty’s lips pressed into a thin line. First of all, no one called her Covey. That was Peter's thing for LJ. Hearing someone call her that was… weird. Secondly, she hated to be reminded of her lack of Korean lingo. While true, it made her feel so... un-Korean, which wasn’t possible, but it did. She understood the basics and could order a sandwich or buy a loaf of bread, but that was it. Actual conversations were impossible. 

Whenever Dae, Yuri and Min-ho spoke amongst themselves, she felt major FOMO. At least she had Q to commiserate with. 

Defeated, she nodded. “Fine. Okay, see you at the front gate after our last period?”

Min-ho assessed her for a beat, curious, but then agreed to the time, not saying another word as he continued walking to his next class. She heard some girls whispering about his looks and style. Kitty sighed. Another day at K.I.S.S. where nothing ever changed. 

Kitty Song-Covey belonged in Seoul. LJ had New York, Margot had Scotland, this was her city. Portland never felt big enough for a personality like hers and she instantly sensed a rush of contentment and peace last year once she settled into her new routine. Her dad had been upset at first, the house suddenly empty for longer than he had expected, but eventually supported her decision. It helped that the scholarship was a hefty sum. 

But that didn’t mean she loved all facets of her new life here. K.I.S.S. was an amazing institution, but it often felt very cliquey and popular students were treated like celebrities. Like Min-ho and Yuri. Fortunately, Yuri was super nice and didn’t care much about popularity, but Min-ho? He relished it. He loved that people loved him. Hell, he played into it, seemingly viewing girls as pawns in his game of lovers. If there was a day that Min-ho didn’t flirt, that meant that he was sick or absent.   

After the last period, Kitty went to her dorm to quickly change into her street clothes and grabbed her camera. Min-ho already stood at the gate when she arrived. The American in her would never be exactly on time, but she supposed one minute late wouldn’t cause a tussle with Min-ho. 

He wore his typical attire: baggy trousers with matching blazer, a sweater underneath, fancy sneakers and an expensive bag. 

What was weird, however, was the soda can in his hand. Min-ho didn’t drink soda. (Bad for his skin, or whatever.)

Before she could greet him, he said: “Here” and shoved the can in her hands. 

Blinking, she read the vibrant lettering – 복숭아 소다 – aka, peach soda, and slowly her confusion melted away. There was one positive to hanging out with him. A smile crawled on her face. “You bought my favourite soda?”

He scowled. “You look creepy smiling like that.”

“Aw, Min-ho!” she cooed. “Do you feel guilty about something? Is karma hitting you in the face?”

“The only thing touching my face right now is this Joseon sunscreen,” he said, effectively dodging the questions.

Grabbing the sunscreen from his crossbody, he smeared it across his cheeks. Kitty eyed the motions. Quietly, she’s always been mesmerised by Min-ho's skin and passion for skincare. A little obsessive, sure, but guys in the States didn't even know what moisturiser was. It was a breath of relief.

Catching her looking, his nose scrunched up. “You haven’t reapplied, have you?”

“No?”

“Do you want skin cancer?”

She rolled her eyes. “Five minutes in the sun won’t hurt me, Min-ho. I’m not made of sugar.”

The boy muttered something Korean under his breath and then squeezed more product out of the bottle, before he plopped it all on her nose. 

“Wipe it out,” he said. “Please.”

Kitty chuckled, but did as he said. “You’re such a mom.”

“Whatever…”

They didn’t speak again until they left the school grounds and descended to the subway station. On the metro, they caught a two-seater. Kitty fiddled with the settings of the DSLR-camera before Min-ho perked up. “Do you want to go over the questions I’ve prepared?”

For a moment, she was surprised. Min-ho allowing her to have a say in things? Min-ho communicating with her in a normal way? But then she remembered that he, too, loved being part of the newspaper team. He’d been a journalist for the paper since his first year at K.I.S.S. Writing him off as someone without a lick of integrity would be wrong of her. Kitty hummed and took Min-ho’s phone from his hand. He had copy-pasted all his questions into a translator app for the English version.

The questions were well-construed. Not only the who, what, why, but how the vendor got the money with the current Korean economic inequality, the reason for the demand in vegan food, how tourists and Koreans perceive kimchi differently, and so on. It would be an in-depth lifestyle item. Kitty hid her surprise.  

“It would be nice to have a medium shot with him in front of the store and then one where he’s making the vegan kimchi in the kitchen,” Kitty said. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” 

The vendor of VGN KMCH , Kangjeon Han-gyeol, was very kind. An older man with round cheeks and a pointed chin, spiky dark hair and hands thick from years of working. 

They sat at one of the tables beside the window, the view overlooking the bustling streets of Seodaemun-gu. Min-ho and Mr. Kangjeon were in a lively conversation, their words recorded by a KISS-recorder. 

VGN KMCH had a trendy interior. Terracotta-coloured walls, black and white tiles, a sleek register and bartop, with a large menu tacked behind it. An accent wall with a LED-sign of the store was mounted at the perfect height for Instagram and KakaoStory pictures. Small tables were scattered around, with only a few taken by customers.   

Somehow, Kitty and Min-ho worked well together. Outside the confines of school and away from friends, they weren’t bickering about grades or morsels of gossip; they acted as a team in front of Mr. Kangjeon.

Kitty took a picture of a talking Mr. Kangjeon. Then she moved around the snack bar and snapped photos of the kitchen, the rows of sauces stacked on shelves, and a napkin dispenser with VGN KMCH ’s logo on it. 

Min-ho called out her name, grabbing her attention. “I’m done,” he said. “Let's take a picture in front of the store.”

She nodded and followed the two guys outside. Kangjeon put on a wide smile, hands on his hips, as she took a couple pictures. Kitty withheld a giggle; he was so cute. Grabbing a couple close-ups as well, she gave the vendor a thumbs up to indicate she was done.

And then, before Min-ho could finish it off, Kitty took a deep breath. She’d been practising since Min-ho’s nasty comment.    

“감사합니다. 당신의 김치 가게는 사랑 스럽습니다,” she slowly uttered, taking both the vendor and Min-ho by surprise. She’d repeated the sentence in her head the entire time Min-ho had been interviewing. Thank you, Sir. Your kimchi shop is lovely. Her pronunciation might not be quite there yet, but hey, it was something! 

Kangjeon grinned and bowed at her. “잘했어요!” She understood that as well: Good job! Q often shouted it at her jokingly. 

Snapping himself out of his shock, Min-ho bowed as well, bid the man goodbye, and basically manoeuvred Kitty away. Once they rounded the corner, he dropped his polite expression. Well, then. There went the easy atmosphere.  

Seodaemun-gu had gotten busier now that people were getting off work. Businessmen and women were walking with their bosses to pubs and restaurants, friends were chatting in nearby parks, a large gym showed a ton of people working out through the big windows. She was already preparing herself for how busy the subway would be. The fact that she hadn’t been crushed yet during rush hour was a miracle. 

“Since when do you speak Korean?!” he exclaimed, almost in panic, but mostly with derision, as though he couldn’t believe the American expat was able to grasp a second language. 

She swatted his hands away. “Since I've been here for over a year. What? You thought I could only say annyeonghaseyo ?”

“You literally started shaking at karaoke last week when you tried ordering a pizza,” he deadpanned. They dodged a throng of tourists standing in the middle of the pavement. 

Kitty scowled. “Well, I know how to say this. So. Ha!” Her hands balled, reminded of what he had said to her after the club meeting. “And isn’t this good? That I’m learning? Why are you so, like, opposed to that?”

Min-ho smirked that infuriating smirk. “Because now we can’t talk about you anymore.”

Two could play that game. Kitty matched his smirk and leaned into him. “I’m the subject of your conversations that often?”

His eyes narrowed, gaze flicking up and down her frame. “Because you’re annoying, Covey.”

She snorted. “Sure.” To get her point across, Kitty grabbed the soda can from her tote bag and opened it, a satisfying ‘pop’ heard. “Everyone buys a soda for someone that they find annoy–oof!”

It happened fast. A cyclist swerving out of the way for the tourists and trying to dodge the mass of people, not being quick enough and almost crashing into Kitty. She would’ve been thrown onto the pavement, scratched knees and elbows and all, had it not been for Min-ho’s quick reflexes. He had grabbed her arm and pulled her into him, just a hair away from getting touched by the cyclist.  

Kitty breathed heavily. “Holy shit.”

Min-ho’s gaze flitted from the cyclist to her, shocked yet concerned. “A-are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She swallowed, hard, feeling her heart beat high in her chest. “Yeah, I’m okay. Um. Thank you.”

Min-ho’s hands dropped to his side as he nodded. They had never stood this close and it felt weird. Taking a step back, a nervous hand tucked a strand of her ponytail behind her ear. Get it together, Kitty, she told herself. No need to get all weird about a perfectly nice and helpful gesture. 

“You should pay more attention to your surroundings,” he quipped, his voice strange. “You’re a liability to yourself.”

And… there was the regular Min-ho again. Rolling her eyes, she bounced back with, “The only person that’s a liability is you. Your skincare routine makes you late for class almost every morning.”

“How do you know?” They got back to the escalator that went down to the subway and he winked at her. He let her go first and he stood behind her. “Do you keep tabs on me, sasaeng?”

“Have you forgotten that I’m friends with Q and Dae? They talk.”

That made Min-ho pause. Ha! Checkmate! Kitty was exaggerating, however, they didn’t really gossip about Min-ho. Q once mentioned it during breakfast in a joking tone that meant no harm. Min-ho didn’t need to know that though. Sometimes, he needed to be put in his place. Like, how could he go from being really nice to really cold in a snap? He confused her to no end.

As they waited for the metro, Min-ho slowly said: “Weren’t you and Dae…?”

“What?”

He gestured in the air. “Something?”

“Oh!” Her cheeks heated up. Didn’t he know all about that? And why did he bring that up? As always when she was flustered, Kitty began to babble: “Um, no, actually, I mean, I had a crush on him that went, like, pretty insane for a couple months last year, but now I’m totally cool and, like, he likes Mi-hee and they’re so cute and, like, you know—wait, why do you ask? Has he, like, said something about that, or…?”

“Oh my God,” he groaned, “you cannot stop talking, can you?”

“You started asking about Dae!” she yelled, forcing herself not to cover her face out of embarrassment. She was better than that. No need to feel ashamed over a normal, healthy crush. 

“And no, Dae didn’t ask about you.” Min-ho rolled his eyes. “You think a star student would be interested in the girl that barely passes?”

Wow. Dae had been interested in her. They didn’t date, but they had FaceTimed for a long while talking about everything and nothing. Dae had meant a lot to her, just like she had meant a lot to him. The way Min-ho just uttered those words… it made her feel like the gum on someone’s shoe. Just because she wasn’t as book-smart as Dae, that didn’t mean she didn’t deserve to be with him; to be around him.

The metro arrived, screeching and billowing the clothes of the waiting passengers.  

“You know, Min-ho,” she uttered, “you are really mean.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You know my grades are a sensitive topic for me. You were there when you gave me Korean lessons last year. So, please, can we keep up the nice energy from the interview? I really don’t need your– your opinion right now.”

“Kitty—”

She shook her head and got onto the metro, not waiting for his reply. Wordlessly, he followed her and stood beside her, gripping the handle above her head. Her eyes clung to her shoes, refusing to spare him a look. She knew the bickering wasn’t always with harm in mind, but Min-ho’s careless use of venomous words sometimes hit her hard. No one could accept an icy tone 24/7. He didn’t try to refute or apologise.  

They returned to K.I.S.S. just in time for the last round of dinner. The hallways were empty, but the hum and chatter of the canteen bled through the glass doors. Kitty fiddled with her necklace. During the trip back, she had held onto her anger, but now it seeped out as the exhaustion of the day caught up to her. She didn’t have it in her to be upset anymore.

Looking up at him, she found his eyes already on her. He opened his mouth to speak, when another voice cut him off.     

“Min-ho! Kitty!” 

The two students turned to the approaching figure – an excited Q – and Kitty forced her expression into something neutral. But the tension hung between them. She felt it like the thick layer of sunscreen Min-ho had lobbed onto her. 

“You guys just missed some major beef between Eunice and Hyein,” he said, grinning, “You know I’m a pacifist, but their fight over some guy was at a K-drama level."

“What guy?” Min-ho asked. 

Q shrugged. “Just some guy. I didn’t catch his name.” He paused, eyes flickering between the two. “Everything… okay?”

“Everything’s peachy," Kitty huffed, her tone clipped and her gaze set on war-mode. “Let’s go find Eunice, Q. I’m sure she’ll want to vent right now.”

Her words only added to Quincy’s confusion, but he allowed Kitty to drag him back to the cafeteria, leaving Min-ho behind. Fortunately, the snobbish boy didn’t try to catch up to them, or force himself into the group at dinner. He sat with Dae instead. (God, Dae! She hoped he didn’t say anything about her babbling mess!) 

She didn’t speak to Min-ho for the rest of the evening. Normally, she snuck into the boy’s dorm to hang out with Q, but tonight she stayed in her dorm with Eunice, Yuri and Juliana.

Eunice and Kitty shared a room, where the latter now tried soothing Eunice's distress. Eunice explained that she and Hyein had liked the same guy for a while without realising and were now not speaking to each other. Things had blown up in the canteen and she wasn’t sure if they could become friends again. 

Kitty’s heart broke for her. Eunice never hurt a fly and she didn’t deserve to feel so down. Rubbing her back, she said, “I’m sure you and Hyein can make up.”

“You don’t get it,” she sighed, “she, like, says she loves him.”

“Okay?” Kitty didn’t follow. “You really think she’ll drop a lifelong friendship for a guy?"

“We’ve been friends for four years.”

“Still! That’s longer than she’s liked that guy, right?”

“Right…” Eunice dropped her head in Kitty's lap. Her long, dark hair sprawled onto the bed.

Kitty envied her a little; Eunice was gorgeous in a K-pop idol way. A perfect heart-shaped face, pouty lips, and doe eyes. She remembered meeting her last year as the kind of ditzy friend of Yuri, but now she found she possessed a big heart and was super loyal and honest. A perfect friend. It was honestly rude that she was that pretty and that kind. And that a guy could make her that distressed! 

Suddenly surging upright, Eunice wiped the tears from her cheeks and stomped her fist into the bedding. “You’re right! Hyein and I should apologise and just drop the guy! He’s literally just some stupid boy!” She stood up. “I’m sure Hyein feels the same way.”

Kitty cheered. “That’s the spirit!”

Right as the revived Eunice was about to leave the bedroom, Kitty added: “By the way, who’s the guy?”

“Oh.” She blushed. “Ryu Min-ho.”

Kitty blanched. Ack! Min-ho?! Seriously?! They fought over him ? Attempting to hide her shock, she nodded and repeated her sentiment that making up with Hyein was far more important than freaking Min-ho. Eventually, Eunice left and Kitty could breathe. 

Holy shit. Min-ho? Did he know? Had he known when Q approached them? Did he even care that girls ruined their friendships for his ass? It was honestly unbelievable. And he called her a liability! He was a walking red flag! 

With a huff, she moved to her desk and opened her laptop. Shoving the SD-card into the port, the file with the photos from VGN KMCH appeared on the screen. She always took dozens of pictures of the same thing to ensure they had a few good shots. As they released a newspaper each Friday, the members of the newspaper club often had to work outside of club hours to finish their articles; like now. Kitty went through all the photos and selected the best ones, then opened Photoshop to edit them.

The news hadn’t always interested her. Prior to K.I.S.S., she barely read or followed the news unless it was needed for a school project. She liked fashion and dancing and matchmaking. That was it. Conversely, the kids in Seoul were very involved with the news, which had piqued her curiosity and she’d begun following a couple news outlets on social media. Then, Alex had approached her with the question if she wanted to join The Weekly K.I.S.S. At first, she refused. She had zero clue how to start writing an article.       

Alex had convinced her. She was innately curious and wondrous, social, observant to a fault, had very developed people skills and a ton of empathy. All the assets needed for a great journalist. 

“Writing can be taught,” Alex had said, “how to treat people with empathy… not so much.” 

Her mind went back to Min-ho’s nervous expression and the can of peach soda. Kitty’s editing paused. Had he… felt bad for upsetting her during the club meeting? She didn’t care that much about his opinion on the colour yellow – she’d wear it regardless – so was it something else? Then again, maybe he just had a lapse in bad morality and bought her a soda because he wanted to. That was possible. She was surprised he knew her favourite though. Q still had to ask her. 

Her eyes glazed over. In another life, Min-ho and her would be great friends. She was sure of that. But for now, they were in a weird stasis of frenemies. She groaned thinking about working on the article with him tomorrow. Alex should be expecting some bad karma. 

Taking the soda can from her bag, she debated throwing it away and then placed it on her desk instead.

What? It was a cute design!

Chapter Text

“OH MY GOD,” YURI GAWKED, MOUTH FULL OF TOOTHPASTE AND WATER. “Seriously?!”

Kitty hummed, her nose almost pressed into the mirror as she flicked on her mascara. The girls were side by side getting ready, half-dressed and both craving a coffee. “Yup.”

Yuri spit out the toothpaste and wiped her mouth. Readjusting her pink, fluffy headband, she started on her skincare. “Min-ho needs to chill. Like, you’re improving so much in your Korean, he shouldn’t be mean about that.”

“And the Dae comment!” added Kitty, throwing her arms in the air. “That was so out of pocket!”

“Do you want me to call him out on KakaoStory? I can start an accountability campaign or something.”

That made Kitty chuckle. Leave it to Yuri to come up with the most insanely extravagant plans. Sometimes she forgot the girl was a hotel heiress with a trust fund waiting on her for when she turned eighteen. She wasn’t afraid to burn bridges if it meant she got what she wanted.

“That’s okay,” she said, “I think I can handle him myself.”

Yuri frowned. “Still. He shouldn’t be treating you like this. It’s not funny anymore.”

The front door opened and they heard Eunice return from her morning run. Every morning, she ran the periphery of the K.I.S.S. grounds regardless of the weather. ‘It’s the duty of the dance captain,’ Eunice had once claimed. Kitty found it admirable. The last time she voluntarily ran was during a group hike with Q.

“Good morning,” she greeted, her head popping into the threshold of the bedroom. Her cheeks were red and locks had fallen out of her ponytail, but she looked far more at ease than last night. Her eyes were bright with energy. “Are you guys almost done?”

Kitty nodded. “Yes, almost. How are you?”

She smiled. “I’m great! Hyein and I made up. She was also crying last night, so, like, neither of us were mad.” Eunice faced Yuri. “Did Kitty tell you? We had a fight about Min-ho.”

Yuri groaned and dropped her toner. “Eunice, why? You can do so much better. Did you hit your head?”

“You can’t control who you have a crush on, Yuri,” the girl argued, leaning against the door. She pulled her hair out of the messy ponytail. “ You should know that.”

A cryptic smile formed on Yuri’s lips, avoiding Eunice’s gaze, and continued her routine with a silly expression. No one but her close friends knew that Yuri and Juliana were together. If the teachers knew, they wouldn’t allow them to live in the same dormitory. They were waiting until graduation to tell everyone and do whatever they pleased. Kitty shipped it. 

Juliana and Yuri were literally perfect for each other. The snarky black cat heiress with the artsy golden retriever diplomat’s daughter. The DJ and the dancer. Yuri wore leather, Juliana wore lace. They should make a K-drama about their love story, Kitty believed.

What Eunice just said was also what Kitty often wrote for the ‘XO, Kitty’ column. So many anonymous kids wrote about their relationship and crush troubles, lamenting about who they liked (and didn’t like) and wishing things were different. It surprised her how all 500 students of K.I.S.S. seemed to have the same issues. Whether they were from the USA, Korea, Morocco or Germany: they all blushed when their crush looked at them. 

It was sort of comforting, in an oddly unifying way. 

“Kitty, you should try this lip tint,” Yuri said, perking up to show her the new shade she bought. It was darker than she usually wore, but it looked fitting for her skin tone. Kitty tried it and tapped it in with her finger. It made her look older. Less like the naive child Min-ho saw her as. 

The lingering thought formed into an idea while Yuri and Kitty were walking to their first class. The grass on the quad still looked dewy, with tired students littering the pavement holding their coffees. She gasped. “What if I write an article about Min-ho?!”

Yuri side-eyed her and cringed. “Um, no. He already calls you sasaeng, Kitty. Don’t give him an actual reason to.”

“You wanted to cancel him.”

“Hold him accountable ,” she corrected, “there’s a difference. What would it even be about? That he insulted you and you’re sad about it? That’s even sadder.”

Kitty grumbled. She had a point there. She just… Kitty just wanted revenge, or whatever. It was super childish and not at all like the ultra-mature girl she had portrayed herself as when she convinced dad to let her move across the world, but damn it! Anyone would be fed up with Min-ho’s constant quips! 

There was a brief moment last year when it seemed they were becoming actual friends. Kitty’s future at K.I.S.S. had been uncertain, given her grades and the few scholarships the school handed out. For some reason, Min-ho had eased up then. He was nice to her. He joked and smiled and helped her out with school and didn’t act like her articles needed to go into the dumpster. Like, she actually saw what Dae, Q and Yuri found so appealing about him. 

But then the school confirmed she could stay and he reverted right back to his usual, snobby behaviour.

On the other side of the quad, underneath a glass awning, she noticed Q, Dae and Min-ho hanging out before class. Despite the cloudy morning, Min-ho wore sunglasses and that huge, stupid smile. He was way too upbeat for 7:45 am. The guys hadn’t noticed the two girls yet. Kitty felt her stomach churn. 

“An… an op-ed about popularity and the way it makes people act like entitled celebrities,” Kitty proposed, hopeful. 

But Yuri wasn’t entertained. “Is this an American chick-flick? No.” She placed a hand on her shoulder. “Kitty, either let it go, or duke it out.”

Resigned, she nodded. “Okay… I think I’ll duke it out then.”

Yuri laughed. Her long ponytail swung in the Thursday morning air. “Can you film it if I’m not there?”

“Deal.”

Around lunchtime, Kitty sent a text to Min-ho with reluctance. The Weekly K.I.S.S. was printed each Friday around eight in the morning, so they only had this afternoon to finish their article and hand it over to Alex for editing. She almost expected Min-ho to refuse coming with her to the newsroom and tell her she had to do it herself, but he quickly replied with a thumbs up. She watched as he stood up from his table in the canteen and how he instantly found her in the crowd, nodding at her.

Madison picked up on it. Her brows raised cartoonishly, gaze flitting from Min-ho to Kitty as she drawled: “What was that?”

“We’re going to finish our article,” Kitty said, also standing up and packing her bag. Though Madison was perfectly nice, Kitty felt uncomfortable at times as the girl was really into Korean culture. She once caught Madison replying in Korean to Dae when he spoke perfectly English. It was weird. 

Also, she was pretty sure Madison was obsessed with Min-ho.

Madison wore a suggestive smile. “Sure, sure.”

“ Madison .”

“I’m not saying anything,” she exclaimed, hands raised in surrender. Her fingers were stacked with colourful, acrylic rings. “Just, like, you know, you guys have vibes.”

“If you think arguing non-stop is a vibe, then sure,” she quipped. “I’ll see you in bio.”  

“Good luck,” Juliana said.

“Don’t kill him,” added Yuri. 

Madison cheered. “Fighting!” 

Collecting all her thoughts of murder, revenge, smear campaigns and cyber-cancellation, she fixed her face into a normal expression and caught up to him in the hallway. He held a casual stride, hands in his pockets and shoulders back, as though he expected a photographer to pop around the corner any second. Her shoulder purposefully knocked into him. 

Min-ho barely registered it, grabbing his phone to check the time. “We have an hour to finish this.”

Kitty paused. Oh. Ceasefire, then. Maybe the shoulder was overkill. Humming, she followed him to the newsroom on the second floor. “I’ll write the lead while you copy what Kangjeon said.”

“Sounds like a plan.” His mouth opened and closed, twice, and then settled on just opening the door, letting her go in first. Weird. People that found Min-ho attractive because he was smooth had never talked to him. Suddenly, he blurted, “I’m, uh, sorry.”

Looking over her shoulder, she stared at him in surprise. “Huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not repeating myself.”

“I heard you,” she trailed and slowly treaded closer. Did Min-ho ever apologise to her? She couldn’t remember. Regardless, all her devious plans abruptly turned into shameful fantasies. Her hands wrung together. “I just don’t know what you’re exactly sorry for.”

“About you learning Korean and your grades,” he grumbled, his eyes piercing like he wanted her to know he meant it, but also wanted to die a little bit for admitting that. He didn’t say anything about Dae, but she supposed it was a start. She didn’t even know an honest ‘sorry’ was in his vocabulary, so this seemed like a Christmas miracle.

Also, the ‘NO BAD VIBES’ poster in the corner of the room was forcing her hand. 

Kitty smiled. “I accept your apology. Now—” She clapped her hands and did a little jump, hyping herself up for an hour of intense writing (and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting…). “—let’s get started!”

He laughed at her antics, sudden and bright. “You sure can’t hide the American, Kitty.”

Kitty stopped, surprised by the lighthearted tone of the comment, and watched as he sat down at one of the larger desks and pulled out his laptop. One moment he hated how ‘American’ she acted, the next he found it… endearing? Or at least less off-putting. Shaking her head, she sat down beside him and grabbed her own laptop. 

Min-ho had already saved the audio file on his device and now listened to it as Kitty wrote the lead. The lead never took much time. If the who, what, where was taken care of, then it was already off to a good start. 

Craving something other than kimbap? Vegan kimchi, a novelty in Seoul, has been taking off in popularity. Kangjeon Han-gyeol, owner of VGN KMCH in Seodaemun-gu, noticed the surge in interest in veganism in the last year. The youth of today wants more than the traditional dishes and he is here to provide. 

Kitty read over the text and then tapped Min-ho’s shoulder. He took out his Airpods. “What do you think of this?” she asked. 

His eyes ran over the text and he hummed. “That’s good. It fits with what he’s saying.” A pause. An earnest glance; softer than she was used by him. “You’ve really been improving, Kitty.”

Okay, now it was just getting weird. Leaning back, she assessed him with crossed arms and a scrutinising expression. “Why’re you being super nice all of a sudden?”

“Huh?” His brows raised. “You don’t want me to be nice? Kitty,” he smirked, “I didn’t know you were a masochist.”

There it was. Same old Min-ho. With a huff, she told him to continue working and began editing the lead. She didn’t fully trust him when he said she improved; there was always something that could be better. She learned that the hard way from Professor Lee: that man loved to destroy her self-esteem. 

Though she wouldn’t admit to Min-ho that when he spoke to her in a softer tone, it was… nice. Pleasant, even. Like, that she was different from Dae and Q – whom he spoke to in whatever way he wanted – and he actually considered her thoughts and feelings. That he knew she didn’t appreciate a brutish attitude. The bar was on the floor, Kitty knew, but still… it was nice while it lasted.   

After Min-ho listened to the whole thing and took notes, they worked together to shape it into a well-construed, written interview. Min-ho translated and gave Kitty parts she ought to fact-check. Alex had emphasised to the entire newspaper team that fact-checking was the most important part of any article. Without it, any item was just fluff. 

Kitty hated to admit it to Alex, but Min-ho and her actually worked well together. The interview wasn’t a fluke. While editing, they moved in sync and had a similar vision for the end result. By the end of the hour, she was already sharing her snacks with him, the Tupperware filled with cut fruit propped between them.  

“Oh!” She quickly swallowed a piece of mango. “Do you wanna know about the Eunice-Hyein drama?”

He frowned. “Why would I care about that?”

“Because it’s about you.”

Min-ho’s fingers paused on the keyboard and shot her a dubious look. “Huh? About me?”

Kitty recounted Eunice’s story – leaving out some sensitive details – but relayed the important parts. Min-ho, surprisingly, seemed baffled by the idea of the two girls being interested in him. Not that they were hiding it well, Kitty found, at least on Eunice’s end. Last year, she forced Eunice and Min-ho to work together in chemistry and the girl had been visibly overjoyed. Had Min-ho not noticed? Or did he simply not care at all? Kitty reminded herself that he was a certified flirt, so Eunice’s behaviour wouldn’t have been new to him.     

The thought soured her expression. She would’ve been offended if she gave such obvious signs to a boy she liked and he ignored them all. Then again, Min-ho wasn’t obliged to respond to such signs if he wasn’t feeling it.

As if he read her mind, Min-ho voiced, “It’s not my fault girls like me, or that they fight over me. I’m just living my awesome life.”

‘“That’s true…” she conceded. “But did you really not know? Or were you just ignoring it? Because if you did know, you could’ve, like, I don’t know, let her down easy.”

“I honestly didn’t know Eunice was into me,” he pressed. “I was focused on other stuff.”

Kitty chuckled. “On Madison, you mean.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, thank you.”

“C’mon, you enjoyed the attention she was giving you! The chase!” Everyone in their year was familiar with The Famous Madison Chase. Once she set her eyes on someone, she didn’t stop until she had the person in mind. Apparently, once she had them, she stopped caring. Kitty couldn’t imagine feeling like that – going from obsession to pure carelessness – and it was another reason why they never clicked well. “I’m surprised you didn’t give in.”

Before he could reply, she added with a laugh, “You have all the girls wrapped around your finger, Min-ho.”

She expected him to laugh, or even agree with too much bravado to hear, but instead, he stayed quiet. He almost seemed surprised by her comment, but she couldn't be sure. Min-ho was a master at keeping a straight face. 

Awkwardly, Kitty drawled, “Anyway… let’s read through it one last time and then email it to Alex, okay?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “당신은 나를 너무 힘들게 합니다…” Though she didn't understand it, she had an inkling what it was about: that she annoyed him, that he was tired of her shit. 

“What? Is it too mean in English?” she snarked. 

He smirked. “A little.”

That evening, they received glowing feedback from Alex on their article and that he would place it on the second page, instead of the previously agreed fourth page. Kitty was proud. Despite Min-ho’s asshole behaviour, they wrote a dang good piece. 

By the next day at noon, students from each class were handing out the newspapers to their peers. Each newspaper was ten pages, with human interest stories, lifestyle and culture items, an op-ed, school event reports and reviews, a list of part-time jobs, the ‘XO, Kitty’ column, and games and riddles. It was a lot of work on top of their regular homework, but it was always worth it. 

Every Friday, Kitty glowed with pride. 

“Kitty,” Q said during lunch, nose deep into the newspaper, “your column this week is so sad. Lonely Boy needs some friends.”

“I know. I hope he takes my advice to heart,” she sighed. 

“It’s a little sappy,” Q admitted, “but maybe it’s what this guy needs.”

“I wonder who it is… do you think we know him?”

“A Year 3 without any friends? Seems unlikely.” Q tapped his chin. “My bet is that it’s a Year 1.” He perked up. “I should promote my nature club to the first years more! They are probably intimidated by me!”

Kitty giggled. A pigeon wouldn't even be intimidated by Quincy. He was too kind-hearted and was always smiling. If anything, the first years regarded him as a role model. But she knew he was desperate for more members, so whatever helped him sleep at night. 

“Have you made up with Min-ho?” Q continued. Kitty had told him all about their arguing during a long FaceTime call. Had Q not worn headphones, Min-ho would’ve heard a slew of colourful words attached to his name. 

Pursing her lips, she said: “Kind of… we have, like, a truce, I think. He was nice to me yesterday. But he also said something to me in Korean that I didn’t understand, so he’s still an ass.”

Q chuckled. “Try to not take it personally. He spoke Korean to me as well during my first year.”

“It’s my second year here, Q,” she deadpanned. “The joke is getting old.”

“Do you want me to talk to him about it?” Placing the newspaper down, he forked a big chunk of sticky rice and kimchi in his mouth. “I can threaten him that I won't help him in chem anymore.”

“Then he has a row of girls that would gladly help him,” she huffed. 

He paused munching, eying her curiously. “I know that wasn’t your intent, but that sounded really jealous.”

Kitty grimaced. Jealous? That was the last thing she felt—especially after consoling Eunice and seeing how broken she was. Granted, she appeared better the next day, but Min-ho had still, indirectly, done that to her. 

“I’ll talk to him,” Quincy concluded. “It’s not the hate campaign that Yuri had in mind, but it can work.” Checking his FitBit, he quickly inhaled the rest of his meal and stood up, announcing he had swim practice to get to. 

In his hurry, he left the newspaper on the table. Kitty gingerly opened it on the second page. 

"VEGAN KIMCHI BAR PUSHES NEW KOREAN CUISINE TO THE FOREFRONT"
— Ryu Min-ho, Song-Covey Katherine

Kitty smiled, proud, her fingers brushing the title as though a beloved souvenir. They really produced a nice article. 

“I see you’re admiring your work, Kitty.” Alex stood by the table, lunchbox in hand, and a smile stretched across his cheeks. “You and Min-ho did a great job.”

“Thanks, Alex. I’m happy with it, too."

“Does… that mean my plan worked?” His voice lilted with hope, eyes wide and brows raised like he waited to win some prize at a raffle. 

“Um…” She weighed her words carefully. “Min-ho and I worked well together, but maybe don’t put us in a team next time.”

“Then try and not bicker next time,” he chastised. “Discuss maturely like a real newsroom would.”

Kitty blinked. If she recalled correctly, there circulated a rumour last year that a previous student literally got in a fight with someone over a semicolon. Min-ho and her were pretty tame then.

But she agreed for Alex’ sake. “Absolutely, we’ll do that.”

Pleased with her reply, he moved on to the next table in the canteen to talk to other students. He did this almost every day, ensuring all students had one lovely chat in between the hours of classes, evening studies and additional cram schools. It made Alex the most endearing professor at K.I.S.S… even if he took questionable decisions as the EIC.

That evening, after her tutoring session with Dae and a dance work-out with Yuri, Mi-hee and Eunice, all the girls gathered in the living room for a movie night. Juliana and Yuri were cuddled up on the sofa, not moving one inch, while Eunice and Mi-hee took the floor. Kitty had the recliner for herself. Right as Eunice wanted to start the film, Kitty went to get her glasses from her room. Now that she wore contacts, she sometimes forgot that when her eyes grew weary, she could just retrieve them. The first time Q saw her wearing them, he had gasped and called her ‘the cutest thing on the planet.’ Dae had simply chuckled, having seen her with them on FaceTime before, while Min-ho had only complimented the frame and then left for a work-out. 

As she grabbed her glasses, her eyes fell on the soda can on her desk. She hasn’t gotten rid of it yet. She wasn’t sure why either, as it didn’t hold any sentimental value nor did she collect cans or something. Lingering, she got startled when Yuri asked what was taking so long. Making a mental note to rinse it tomorrow morning, she returned to the living room and Eunice started the movie. 

That wasn’t silly, was it? Kitty was a thrifty, inventive, creative soul. It wasn’t bizarre that she enjoyed the design of a soda can and wanted to repurpose it. There was enough waste on the planet already. It had nothing to do with Min-ho and he wouldn’t even know that she kept it. He never visited her dorm. Shaking the weird feeling off of her, she focused on the opening credits of the movie. 

But… what if he did find out? What if she casually told Q when they hung out and then he would tell Min-ho and then Min-ho would never let her forget it. Her mind went into a spiral. And when her mind started spiralling, well… then she would keep thinking about it until she erupted like a volcano. Great. 

It kept running in her mind when she joined Eunice on her morning work-out, when she searched the library for a book required for Korean Lit, when she reached the point of frustration and began stress-cleaning the kitchen and her side of the bedroom. She was glad Yuri and Juliana were on a date, or else they would have to witness The Spiral.

A knock was heard on the front door of her dorm. Her head whipped up from the sink of dishes, surprised, wondering if it was Q, and quickly wiped her hands. Maybe he had a Sixth Kitty Sense and knew she needed to vent and eat LJ’s cupcakes and sort out her thoughts. 

But when she opened the door, she came face to face with her nightmare: Min-ho.

“I kept the can!” she yelled, blurting it out before the secret ate her alive. 

He frowned, confused. “What?”

Could the floor open up and swallow her? Like, right now? Kitty flushed, stammering: “W-what?”

Straightening his designer jacket, he scoffed and muttered, “Okay… I was going to ask if you want to try out vegan kimchi today, but clearly you’re going through some brain damage.”

The words refused to register. Min-ho, at her door. Min-ho, catching her looking like a goblin. Min-ho, wanting to spend time with her for no reason. Min-ho, whose soda can stood rinsed in the drying rack behind her. 

Her mouth gaped. “What…?”

“Never mind.” He swivelled around and strode away, which spurred Kitty out of her stupor and she ran after him. 

“Wait!” she exclaimed. Her fluffy slippers squeaked against the tiled flooring. “Vegan kimchi? You mean Kangjeon’s shop?”

“Yes, I’m curious if it tastes good,” he said. “So?”

“Um–” Kitty looked down at her baggy sweats and touched her messy, frizzy bun. For a beat, she calculated how much time she’d need to get ready, but then stopped herself. “Wait, why would I go with you? Is this just a ploy so that you can embarrass my Korean again when I order?”

“Huh? No.” He scoffed. “People are obsessed with me , Covey, not the other way around. And I apologised for that.”

Again, the Covey thing! It ground her gears. Katherine, Kitty, Kat, Katie, K—so many options! With a huff, she said: “Aren’t Q or Dae free?”

“Q is working out, Dae is studying, as usual.” He tried appearing nonchalant, but his tone and hardened gaze said otherwise. He felt lonely. His Run Star Hike Converse shoes nudged her slippers. “So? Are you coming with me?”

Kitty felt conflicted. On the one hand, she wanted to get to an amicable level with Min-ho to make her life (and of all those around her) easier. This would be the olive branch. Then, there wouldn’t be any fighting in the newsroom, or during class, or while with friends. On the other hand, Kitty was petty. And Kitty didn’t want him to win whatever power game they had going on for the last year and a half. 

So she raised her chin, haughty, and rejected him. “No. I’m busy.”    

His brows raised. “Busy?”

“Cleaning. Homework. Finding new items for the paper.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Okay. Good luck with that.” His eyes flicked up and down her frame, as though searching something, and then he added with a disgruntled sigh, “당신은 내가 가진 가장 성가신 짝사랑입니다…”

“Yeah, whatever,” she dismissed, turning on her heels and stomping back into her dorm. If he didn’t want to communicate with her on an equal footing, then she wouldn’t bother entertaining him. Closing the door, she saw the split second where his annoyance shifted into dismay. Kitty gulped. She hadn’t gone too far, had she? 

~*~*~

Dear Kitty,

There’s a girl that I really like, but I’m fairly sure she hates my guts. How do I make her like me? I’ve tried to change her opinion of me, but she’s stubborn. Should I just give up, or try something I haven’t considered yet? Because the feelings I have aren’t going away, not one bit, and I always feel like I’m losing my mind whenever I’m near her. Sometimes I get so tongue-tied that I don’t even know what I’m saying. 

So, any advice is welcomed. 

— XOXO, Lover Boy

~*~*~

Chapter Text

THE CANTEEN WAS BUSTLING AS ALWAYS. Hungry kids stood eagerly in line to fill their plates with food after the first couple gruelling classes. Kitty started every Friday with Professor Lee and she was pretty sure it took ten years of her life each time. The cupcake on her plate was emotional reparations.

As Q was chatting, she was only listening with half an ear, her eyes constantly swivelling to the canteen doors. By now, The Weekly K.I.S.S. would’ve been distributed, but it had taken longer today for some reason. Maybe it was arrogant, but she believed it had to do with her new ‘XO, Kitty’ column.

The Lover Boy message had taken everyone in the newsroom by surprise. At first, Kitty hadn’t been sure she had been reading it correctly, but no: this boy actually wrote a whole confession to her inbox. Usually, people’s relationship troubles were written in a very dry manner. Situation, problem, question—that was it. But this boy delved into why he liked her and it was awfully romantic. She had cooed the second time she read it. What a romantic guy! He was so smitten with this mystery girl!

Professor Finnerty had urged her to wait for other messages to pop into her inbox, but the others of the newsroom wanted her to reply to this one. Madison considered it the start of a K-drama, Hinata and Haeyoon lamented the lack of romance in their lives, Mi-hee speculated about who it could be. Min-ho, as usual, didn’t care about her column. He had laughed and shrugged, telling her to do whatever she pleased; that he didn’t care.  

He had seemed even less enthused than usual. Kitty had wondered if she really hurt him that Saturday afternoon when she rejected his offer to get kimchi with him. Should she feel guilty about that? She was allowed to say no to such things; it wasn’t that big of a deal. Soon enough, their entire friend group would have a night off again and go eat at VGN KMCH. No harm, no foul. 

“Like, I didn’t expect him to sit next to me,” Q continued babbling. “He’s always sitting in the back, talking to no one – I guess he’s sort of shy – but he’s actually really nice!” He paused and snapped his fingers in Kitty’s face. “Earth to Kitty.”

She jumped. “Sorry.”

“The paper is coming, don’t worry about it. Let’s focus on me, please.”

“You’re right,” she nodded. “Continue.”

“The aloof guys are always the most hot and mysterious,” Q joked. “And Florian very much fits the criteria.”

“It’s such a romantic name,” Kitty commented. “Florian. Like, a prince or something.”

“He’s Greek and French.” Quincy sighed. “He speaks four languages, it’s so cool.”

A smile crawled on Kitty’s lips, poking Q’s arm. “You have a crush! You should ask him out to one of your movie nights, or join you on a group hike.”

Q’s expression shifted to an alarmed grimace. Hushed, he said, “Kitty, I don’t know if he’s gay. I can’t just ask him out.”

“Then ask to hang out,” she grinned, “like, as friends. Then you can find out and make a decision. I have a good feeling about this.”

“Let’s not rush this.” He fiddled with his hands, an uncharacteristic nervous tick of the boy. “I wanna get to know him better in class first.”

Just then, the doors burst open and revealed Yuri and Juliana rushing forward, in their grip the newest publication of the newspaper. Kitty let out a breath of relief. Finally! Behind them, other students came through holding piles of them to hand out. It seemed like the girls had snatched the first of the pile, too excited and curious to wait for one themselves. Typical Yuri x Juliana behaviour. 

“Kitty,” Yuri exclaimed, thrilled, the two girls joining Kitty and Q at their table. The paper slammed on the table. “Your column! How dare you not tell me about this sooner!”

“You’re not part of the paper,” she chuckled. “We have to keep things secret.”

“It’s so romantic,” Juliana added with a dreamy smile. “Kind of creepy, but romantic.” Opening it to the column’s page, Kitty had the pleasure of reading the message and her reply again. 

~*~

Dear Lover Boy, 

Thank you for confiding with me about your crush. Not many have graced my inbox with such a romantic message! 

Unfortunately, if the girl truly hates you, there’s not much you can do to change her mind. No means no. But if your relationship still has a chance of patching up, I would suggest apologising for whatever you’ve done and continue to show through actions that you mean it and that you care. Words can only go so far.

Help her with homework, walk her to class, try and find out what you have in common. If she’s open-minded, she’ll see you have a softer, sensitive side. 

Perhaps, whenever you’re comfortable, you should confess to her how you feel. You’re very eloquent, so I’m sure you’ll be able to tell her exactly how much she means to you. 

Good luck!

XO, Kitty

~*~ 

“No means no,” Juliana repeated. “Preach!”

“Who do you think it is?” Yuri asked Kitty. “Is it someone from our year?”

“I don’t think so,” Kitty trailed. She tried not to think too much about the person’s identity. That wasn’t her job and she respected the anonymity of the people that sent her messages. She didn’t want to break their trust. “Um, maybe a Year 2? Like, the drama sounds too intense for a Year 3.”

Kitty’s sober response didn’t reach other groups, however, as by last period big group chats from each year speculated about the identity of Lover Boy. Pictures and polls went around with excitement and curiosity. It was like people were playing a school-wide game of ‘Guess Who’ solely based on vernacular and sentence structure. A tough task, considering K.I.S.S. trained each student to express themselves with perfect spelling and immaculate grammar. It could literally be anyone. 

It worried Kitty. She had fought tooth and nail to get the ‘XO, Kitty’ column. The established members of The Weekly K.I.S.S. had considered it unnecessary filler and wanted to only place articles of ‘value’ into the paper. If she had seemed offended, then that was an understatement. Kitty had been livid. Now, with all the hubbub, it could be taken away from her. Alex upheld the anonymity of the senders with high regard. 

Plus, she would hate it if the kids at school didn’t trust her anymore, or were scared to be discovered, because of this explosion. 

Kitty groaned when another student came up to her and asked if she knew who it was.  

“Come on, people!” she exclaimed. “It’s anonymous. Does that mean nothing to you?”

The student was startled, raising their hands in defence. “Geez. It’s just a question.”

“I don’t know,” Kitty replied, calmer. “I don’t know and I don’t want to know. You shouldn’t either, okay?”

Resigned, the student slinked back to their friends with bad news.

Kitty sighed. This was really, really bad. No doubt the teachers also noticed the rabid eagerness to uncover a student’s deepest secret. God, she hoped Lover Boy was feeling okay. It had to suck for his words to be inspected with a fine-tooth comb. What if he was hiding in his room right now, regretting ever writing to her? Or worse: what if the girl he had a crush on knew it was about her and now felt mortified as well? What if she fucked it all up for them? Kitty’s spirit slowly dwindled to a small, flickering flame. 

By Sunday afternoon, Kitty felt ill with guilt. She couldn’t feel excited for Q’s spiral into full Crush Mode talking about Florian. It had only been a couple days since they properly met and he’s become the only thing Q can talk about. Florian smelled nice, dressed nice, told funny jokes, obtained excellent grades, and so on.   

She had hoped hanging with Q would shift her thoughts, but nothing worked. Especially since nothing new has been sent into her ‘XO, Kitty’ inbox. Her career as a journalist was pretty much doomed. 

“I should follow him, right?” Q asked, his phone placed on his lap so both could see. It was open on Florian’s Instagram account, but it was private. “Show him that I wanna know him better.” He grimaced. “If he refuses, I don’t know if I’ll be able to go to chem class again.”

“Q, you’ve been hanging out for, like, what? A week?” Kitty’s matchmaking intuition kicked in. “He’ll accept your request. I bet he’s thinking about following you, too.” 

“You think so? I don’t wanna rush it.”

Kitty smiled, trailing, “I know you always say that not everyone is on ‘Kitty Time’, but… it’s time. Follow him. It’s just Instagram.” She stood up, partially to give him some space, but also to give her spiralling brain a break. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Oh, yeah.” Q perked up. “There’s vitamin water in the fridge. Thanks, Kitty.”

With a nod, she left the bedroom and walked into the main living space. To her surprise, she wasn’t alone. The kitchen island was filled with ingredients, bowls and measuring cups. Korean R&B softly played from a speaker. And there, behind a big bowl of doe, stood Min-ho in a cute apron. 

A memory of last year surged to the forefront: Chuseok and her impulsive plan to create a special dinner for all the expats of K.I.S.S. A desperate plea to fit in with the K.I.S.S. kids, one that would’ve spectacularly failed had Min-ho not swooped in to save her from utter embarrassment. While he shamed her cooking techniques and ignorance of Korean cuisine, he also helped cook all the bulgogi , multiple pots of jjigae , and the banchan . A feast by the perfectly-manicured hands of Min-ho. Yeah, Chuseok had been a strange day. 

But it was also the first time Kitty felt they had gotten along. They had bantered and joked and enjoyed their meal together in the evening, among their peers. They actually had things in common. Kitty had thought that it would be the start of a beautiful friendship (sike!), but it did bury the hatchet of pure animosity. Baby steps, or whatever.

So, seeing Min-ho now, here, cooking again… it softened the stress inside of her. The buzz in her brain quieted for just a beat. At least some things, like this, didn’t change. 

Min-ho noticed her, surprised. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I’m encouraging Q to become IG besties with Florian,” Kitty said, forcing a joking tone. “He’s told you about him, right?”

“Yeah.”

They hadn’t talked since she rejected his kimchi offer. A full week of avoiding each other and speaking indirectly during newspaper meetings. She hadn’t even known what his article this week was about until the newspaper’s publication.

She awkwardly brought it up. “Um, I read your piece on the issue of plus-size clothing stores in Seoul. It was really good. I liked the interview you did.”

His brows raised. He clearly hadn’t expected her to continue conversing either. Unfortunately for him, she had the annoying habit of sticking out uncomfortable situations. Blame her American-ness. “Oh, thanks. Yeah, I liked making it, too.”

“What’re you making?”

“ Yakgwa ,” he replied. A light smirk tickled his lips. “I’m going to assume you don’t know what that means?”

Her nerves eased. Thank God, he wasn’t making it more awkward. She took a careful step forward. “No, what is it?”

“They’re Korean honey cookies.” Pointing at the ingredients scattered on the island, he explained: “It’s deep-fried, made with honey, sesame oil, ginger, and, usually, soju. But I’m using grape juice.” He shrugged. “It’s not the same, but it does the job.”

Kitty smiled. “You really like cooking.”

“I like when people don’t butcher Korean cuisine,” he corrected, sending her a pointed look that clearly hinted at last year’s Chuseok. She almost blabbed as to why he asked her then to vegan kimchi (an obvious concept that ‘butchered’ the cuisine), but kept her mouth shut. No need to bring that up. 

“I didn’t butcher anything,” she argued, “a little American flavour never hurt anyone.”

“You put whole milk in the mashed potatoes,” he deadpanned. Woops. 

“An honest mistake.” A giggle left her. “A funny mistake. I’ve never seen you run so fast.”

He rolled his eyes. “I was running normally.” But his smile betrayed his quiet amusement. He didn’t mind her teasing. Maybe now Min-ho stopped insulting her? In turn, she wouldn’t reject his food offers either. 

Kitty leaned against the island, peering into the mixing bowl. “Does it take long?”   

“About an hour, depending on how many you make,” he said. A pause. Kitty looked up at him expectantly, wondering what came next. He seemed uncertain. And then, slowly, “Do you want to taste?”

Gah! She couldn’t help it. A big grin smacked itself on her cheeks. Perking up to full height, she clapped her hands. “I thought you’d never ask! It smells, like, heavenly. Give me a spoon!”

Amused, Min-ho scooped a chunk of the mixture on the spoon and handed it to Kitty. She hummed, pleased, when the chewy and sweet flavour hit her tongue. Damn. What was Min-ho doing here and not in culinary school? He should do this professionally. Then again, that wouldn’t fit his ‘Korean lifestyle influencer’-aesthetic. He probably had a reputation to uphold. 

The taste reminded her of LJ. How her sister could spend hours slaving in the kitchen to create one, perfect cookie or cupcake. The perfect flavour, just so that it could be enjoyed in seconds by others. Kitty never understood it. She preferred to create things that were longlasting — like matchmaking people. Cooking seemed so unimportant in comparison then. 

But now she understood. For some reason, she knew these cookies were important to Min-ho. That they weren’t chosen at random. Such an intricate flavour was chosen for its memories attached. Kitty almost became shy thinking about it; that Min-ho wanted to share a memory with her, even if she didn’t know what it was. 

The front door opened and Dae appeared around the corner, heavy backpack on and headphones blaring pop music. The spoon in her grip clattered onto the island, startled, and the magic of the moment was broken. 

“Oh! Hey, Kitty,” Dae greeted, pulling his headphones off. Kitty smiled. Even though she didn’t have a crush on him anymore, Dae was a certifiably cute boy. “What’s up?”

“I’m just hanging out with Q and Min-ho,” she said. “Were you studying?”

“Yeah, with my maths study group.” He grimaced. “I like maths and even I’m sick of it.”

“I don’t like maths and would rather run laps with Q than go to that class,” Kitty bounced back, causing Dae to chuckle. Min-ho had gone awfully quiet. 

Dae noticed. “That smells good, Min-ho.”

“Thanks.”

The boy blinked, surprised by the curt response. Kitty frowned. Just seconds ago everything had been fine. Were Dae and Q having problems? She hoped not. Kitty tried saving the situation, “Um, were you studying the last module? Like, I sort of understood it, but it’s so difficult when they’re asking questions that weren't part of the examples.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Dae agreed. “We worked on it today. I can help you, if you want.”

She smiled, “That would be nice, thanks.” She turned to Min-ho, her tone almost forcing him to reply. “Do you understand the material, Min-ho?”

“Of course, I do,” he responded, still dry and borderline icy. “I don’t need help with the material.”

“Oh, okay.” Dae’s jovial expression started to slip. “Um…”

“Oh!” Kitty remembered her initial task: getting water for Q and her. Something that would save her from this incredibly awkward moment. “Q asked for water, so, I’ll, um—” Nothing else left her mouth. Slaloming past Dae and behind Min-ho, she plucked two bottles of vitamin water from the fridge and scurried back to Q’s room. Oof. So damn awkward.   

The vibe in Q’s room was totally different from the kitchen. Her friend was buzzing with energy. “Florian followed me back!” Q cheered, waving his phone in Kitty's face. She handed him the bottles. “He’s sophisticated. Like, European Summer aesthetic all year round.”

“Wow,” Kitty admired, scrolling through the boy’s feed. Though it now consisted of a lot of pictures of Korea, it quickly evolved into snaps of Mediterranean beaches, classic museum visits, theatre exteriors, and group pictures where everyone held a large Aperol Spritz. “He seems so, like, shy. I didn’t expect this.”  

“Yeah, me neither. Oh, also, did you take the scenic route to the water?” Q joked, wondering what took her so long. 

Kitty chuckled and plopped beside him. “Sort of. Min-ho’s baking.”

Q paused. “Baking?”

“Yeah, he’s making, um… yakgwa ? I think? I think that’s what he said.” 

Her friend didn’t reply. Instead, he jumped up from the bed and ran out of the room. A surprised Kitty followed suit, confused by the sudden change in atmosphere. Dae and Min-ho were still talking by the kitchen island. The sweet smell of honey pastries drifted through the air. 

Q exclaimed, worried, “Are you okay? Kitty says you're making yakgwa .”

Without missing a beat, Min-ho switched to Korean, much to her irritation. “너희는 항상 운동을 하거나 공부를 하니까 나는 당연히 패스트리를 만들고 있다.”

A sorrowful expression melted Dae’s grin away, now leaning into the island and touching Min-ho’s forearm. “정말요? 미안해요, 민호. 당신이 이런 기분일 줄은 몰랐어요.”

“Okay, context please!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. It was like they had forgotten all about her!

“One sec,” Q said and then turned to Min-ho, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. “그게 아니야. 민호야? 이거… 어떤 고양이 얘기야?” His American accent and slow cadence gave his intermediate level away, but he was leaps and bounds ahead of Kitty. She’d find it admirable if she was not peeved right now.  

Dae tilted his head, confused. “고양이?”

“아니, Q,” Min-ho pressed. “놔.”

Q laughed, “어서 해봐요…!”

“Quincy!” Min-ho repeated, far more stern this time. His hands let go of the mixture, instead pointing at his friend. “Drop. It.”

She’s never heard him this stressed about what she believed had been a joke. Even if she didn’t understand what they said, she recognised Q’s light tone; he hadn’t meant to hurt him. The boy himself was surprised too by Min-ho’s outburst. Dae’s hand slipped off Min-ho’s arm. Kitty pressed her lips together, forcing herself not to try and soothe the situation, or question Min-ho for his weird behaviour. 

“Can I just bake in peace? Damn…” he muttered. 

Quincy nodded, his chest sunk and shoulders recoiled. “Okay. Sorry, we… uh… asked.” As he returned to his room, Dae hummed in agreement and retreated to the couch to play with his Nintendo Switch. Kitty’s feet felt glued to the floor. She couldn’t just leave, could she? Not after what had just transpired and she had no clue what had been said. But asking wouldn’t be right. (Nor would Min-ho tell her.) Fiddling with her fingers, she took a careful step forward. 

“I hope it helps,” Kitty muttered. 

Min-ho looked up from the pastries. “Huh?”

“Whatever is upsetting you right now,” she said, “I hope the baking helps. It must suck.”

A sardonic smile ticked up the corner of his lip, a lopsided grin, like he knew something she didn’t. “Yeah, it sucks.”

On Monday, Alex called the newsroom members into the club room fifteen minutes earlier for an ‘emergency meeting’. You didn’t need to be a genius to know what that implied. Kitty was in deep shit. 

As always, Min-ho was the first one there. He sat around the big, circular conference table, leaning back in his seat and his feet propped on the table. A coffee hung lazily in his grip. Unbothered as always. Meanwhile, Kitty was on the verge of losing it. Her future at The Weekly K.I.S.S. was in danger! She had to be breathing heavily and fidgeting, as Min-ho looked up from his phone and shot her an odd look.  

“Are you having a panic attack?” Min-ho asked. 

“No,” she said, clipped, her hands gripping her thermos. “I’m just mildly freaking out.”

“Oh. Good.” He returned to his phone. “Because if you were having an attack, you could ask the school psychologist for Prozac.”

Of course, the school supplied students with antidepressants. Shaking her head with a huff, she tried focusing on the smell of her freshly brewed coffee and happy thoughts. No bad vibes in the newsroom, right? She could do that. She exuded good vibes. She was good vibes personified! She was—

Alex entered the newsroom, with the other members trickling in after him. Mi-hee sat to her left with a comforting smile, knowing all too well what this meeting was about as well. Soon, the entire news team sat down. 

Alex cleared his throat, as always a little bouncy and uncomfortable. The Australian never quite knew how to position himself. “I’m sure you all know why you’re here.” Nodding at Kitty, he added, “The ‘XO, Kitty’ column received a lot of attention last week. A student showed me that people have been making polls with possible suspects that wrote the message.”

Alex lifted a printed copy of the screenshot, showcasing a poll made in a group chat that held ten different boy names from various years. Kitty cringed. It was worse than she thought. According to the screenshot, over fifty people had voted, and that was just one group chat. Who knew how many other forums chimed in and debated on the boy’s identity. 

Kitty’s cheeks burned red. “I honestly didn’t know it would go like this, Professor Finnerty.”

“I know,” he gently replied. “But you could’ve anticipated such an… emotional message would cause a reaction. You should’ve picked one of the other messages in your inbox. There were others, right?”

Shrinking into herself, she nodded. “Yeah…”  

“The teachers and I have been thinking of temporarily suspending the column, until the search for the messenger dies down.”

Several members, including Kitty, gasped. While she had expected for something to happen, she hadn’t actually believed Alex would enforce it. Suspending her column? Just because a boy was earnest about his emotions and she dared to reply to it? It didn’t sound fair.  

Madison raised her hand. “Professor, that sounds kind of extreme.”

Mi-hee hummed in agreement. “Yeah, Kitty’s done nothing wrong.” 

“I get that I maybe should’ve picked a different message,” Kitty added, boosted by her colleagues’ support, “but I felt like it was important to reply to this one. Like, it was a lot deeper than the usual romance questions. But I get that… I hope that I didn’t hurt the messenger.” Her head hung. “I’d hate it if he now feels embarrassed because of all the attention his question is getting.”

Haeyoon leaned towards her, curious. “Do you know who it is?”

“No.” Kitty let out a frustrated chuckle. “And I’d rather not know.” 

“Why wouldn’t you want to know?” Min-ho asked, sudden and clear. All heads turned to him. An indifferent expression clouded any emotion. “If you feel so bad, wouldn’t you want to apologise to the person?”

Kitty frowned. “Because the whole point of ‘XO, Kitty’ is that people can submit questions anonymously. Like, what? You want me to hack the inbox and check his email address?”

“No,” rushed Alex, holding up his hands before she could escalate the plans. Everyone’s attention returned to the front. “No, please don’t.” He sighed. “Kitty, what would you suggest we do?”

Kitty’s brows knitted together. She hadn’t thought of an alternative. To her, it had been all or nothing. “Um… not answer love questions for a while? And I’ll give more of my attention to writing articles.” Her chin raised, hopeful. “How is that?”

“No love questions for a month,” Alex bartered. 

“Deal,” she quickly accepted, relieved Alex wasn’t suddenly a tyrannical ruler. Hinata shot her a thumbs up. “No love.”

He smiled. “Good. Phew, I hated doing this. Anyway,” he clapped his hands, “what do you guys have?”

The conversation shifted to everyone’s acquired news items and ideas. Hinata wanted to write about an art gallery that was opening in a couple days about racial diversity in Korea, Mi-hee and Madison wanted to work together on a human interest piece about a Year 2 student that did ballet on a professional level. Haeyoon was interested in covering a protest that would be happening at Gwanghwamun Square. Min-ho wanted to write about the recent interest in colour analysis. Kitty… had no clue what she wanted to do. She’d been so wrapped up in her ‘XO, Kitty’ drama, that she had no time to search for something.  

And of course, Alex was no help. “If you don’t have something by the end of the day, you’ll work with…” He grinned mischievously. “Min-ho.”

“Professor, I think it’s better if I work with Hin—"

“Your last article together was excellent,” he cut her off. “Min-ho, what do you think?”

He shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Perfect!”

Kitty scoffed. Nothing she said mattered anymore apparently. Wouldn’t it be better if she joined Haeyoon at the protest or Hinata at the gallery? Those seemed like more strenuous tasks than freaking colour analysis. All Min-ho had to do was sit on his ass and have nice ladies match his skin tone with a colour season.

From across the table, she met his gaze, his dark eyes challenged and piercing, as though she dared argue with Alex or him after she was brutishly interrupted.

She'd show them: Kitty would find something better to write about.

Chapter Text

PROFESSOR LEE WANTED TO KILL HER, she was sure of it. He has glared at her multiple times in the past hour, pointed out her lack of focus, and insulted the American education system for the millionth time. (Apparently, it was a crime they hadn’t discussed fourteenth century European literature by middle school yet.) Yuri tried keeping her in check, but Kitty couldn’t help it. She was equally distracted as she was annoyed. 

If she didn’t find a different news item, she’d have to work with annoying, infuriating, confusing Ryu Min-ho again. Ryu Min-ho, that flipped between being so sweet and nice, and cold and withdrawn. 

She wondered why he had been so standoffish towards Dae in the kitchen. Last year, wherever Dae was, Min-ho was there as well. They were inseparable. Up until a few weeks ago, that still seemed the case. Maybe Min-ho really was going through something difficult and didn’t know how to communicate that. It was unlikely — Min-ho loved talking — but it wasn’t impossible. 

Her eyes lowered to the lined paper with ideas scribbled on and scratched out. For some reason, the creative Kitty had nothing. Yuri turned her handbook to a different page, nudging Kitty to follow. 

“Focus,” she whispered. “ The Weekly K.I.S.S. isn’t everything.”

“I’d rather clean Lee’s toilet than work with Min-ho again,” she hissed, hoping no one caught it. Yuri grimaced. “He’s so—”

“Wasn’t he crowned best member of the team last year?” Yuri pointed out, not helping Kitty’s case. 

“Not the point.”

“I mean…” Before Yuri continued, Lee stopped writing on the whiteboard and turned to the class to continue the segment. Yuri’s mouth zipped shut and she placed her attention on the new paragraph. 

Kitty sighed. It was true: Min-ho was the best writer on the team and had been since he became part of the team in his first year at K.I.S.S. Now that she joined, she hoped she could win that title.

The article that made him win was about fashion during the South Korean presidential election. He had interviewed a ton of experts about the influence of politician’s fashion on the public. It was incredible. She had no idea people placed so much importance on choosing the right colour tie. 

It even got selected for a big youth magazine in Korea, but it eventually didn’t make the cut. Still, it was pretty impressive for a boy that cared more about his skincare than about most humans. 

Kitty wanted to become just as good. She wanted to get into a magazine with her articles and impress her peers. Maybe if she improved her Korean, she’d actually have a shot. Her lips pursed. If her mom and sisters spoke in Korean to her while she was a baby, she wouldn’t have complications now. 

That afternoon during private study hour, Kitty was still searching. Opposite of her, Dae and Q were doing homework. After a fruitless attempt on Instagram, she scoured forums and groups on KakaoTalk for topics. Then she stumbled on something interesting. 

The 4B movement. Her eyes grew wide as she started scrolling through messaging boards. 

It was a feminist movement, she realised, where Korean women publicly turned away from beauty standards by cutting their hair short and going barefaced. 4B was shorthand for bihon (no heterosexual marriage), bichulsan (no childbirth), biyeonae (no dating), and bisekseu (no heterosexual sexual relationships). A lot of the women on the forum claimed they had distanced themselves from all the men in their lives, even male friends.

Kitty was aghast. She had never heard of this before. It was unlike the feminist movements she had encountered in the US. Korea was a lot more traditional and patriarchal in terms of gender roles and sexuality, which made 4B a growing trend online and offline. 

Had The Weekly K.I.S.S. written about this yet? She searched the site’s archive, but nothing came up. 

Without thinking further, she sprung up from her seat — startling her friends — and ran out of the library to the newsroom. She still had some time left! 

Much to her relief, Alex approved. He didn’t quite understand the movement yet, himself a foreigner, but he supported her ambitious idea and gave her the go-ahead. “Were you really that against working with Min-ho?” he asked, right as she wanted to march away. 

She faltered, unsure what more to say than she hadn't already. “Um…”

A knock rapped against the door. The two turned towards the sound and watched as it opened, revealing the devil himself: Min-ho. His brows raised in surprise at the sight of them. “Do I need to come back at another time?”

“No,” she rushed, “we’re done talking.”

“What brings you here, Min-ho?” Alex asked. 

“Well, I’m not sure about my item,” he trailed, eyes flickering from Kitty to Alex, taking that as her cue to leave. “I don’t think there’s enough material to make it interesting.”

“You can spruce it up with your opinion,” the teacher proposed, the last thing Kitty heard as she closed the door behind her and took a deep breath. She really, desperately hoped that Min-ho hadn’t heard Alex’ question. 

But then the realisation settled, her worry vanishing: she had her item. Alex was excited. Kitty smiled, pleased. Finally, she could focus on her homework and not have Lee kill her on the spot.  

That evening, while Juliana and Eunice were watching a movie, Kitty sat huddled beside them with her laptop, glasses balanced on the tip of her nose. In the reflection, one would be able to see the blur of words scrolling past. The 4B movement went deeper than she expected and it would take a while before she really grasped the entire subject. 

The Weekly K.I.S.S. often strayed away from bigger societal articles, simply because it took so much time and they were a weekly issue. Alex had faith in her though. She should at least try and get it done by Thursday. 

Finding a woman to interview, however, would be tough. All the users in the chat groups and forums used nicknames. Kitty had never found interviewees this way either and it felt a little scary. Like, there could be some creepy guy posing as a girl on there! 

Then again, they probably used nicknames, so they wouldn't be harassed in real life. These women on the forum discussed moments where Korean men openly showed their disgust whenever they walked around without make-up, or mocked them when they spoke up about subjects typically viewed as ‘masculine’.

She pulled a comment through her translator app. ‘I had a male friend that made me feel lesser whenever I spoke about finance. To him, women shouldn't concern themselves with money and just do housekeeping. But I'm literally a finance major in university…’

And another. ‘I officially became part of 4B after a few horrible dating experiences. Guys in Daejeon are the worst. They will call you ugly to your face, degrade your entire gender, and make you feel stupid even when you're knowledgeable on a subject. Maybe things can be different in the future, but I don't want a life where I'm shackled to someone that doesn't respect me.’

A ‘Yun-jin’ caught her eye. She commented on the last anecdote with: ‘That sucks! Same here in Seoul!’

Curious, she tapped on the user’s icon and found that her location was indeed set in Seoul. Almost all of her posts were 4B related, but she posted a couple weeks ago about a coffee shop not too far away from school. Kitty perked up. Maybe this person could be it. 

Someone knocked on their door and Eunice swatted Kitty's arm, not taking her eyes off the tv. “Can you get it, Kitty? It’s just getting good!” she squealed, then began swatting Juliana as the love interest ran after the main girl on the street. 

Kitty grinned and stood up, stretching her neck as she felt a kink from sitting in such an awkward position. As she tried to massage it out, she opened the door — expecting Yuri to have forgotten her key card again — and instead came face to face with Min-ho. Ack! Why did they keep running into each other?! Moreover, why did he keep coming to her front door? 

His eyes zeroed in on her glasses. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with those.”

Her arms crossed, defensive. “What do you want?”

Behind her, she heard the tv get muted. Shit. Eunice. Even though the girl seemed fine, she hadn’t been sure about it. A crush didn’t just fade in a snap. What if she felt uncomfortable with him standing there? Kitty ought to make this quick and restore the peace in the dorm. 

“I’m joining you on your item,” he said, a smirk teasing his mouth as he already knew her indignant response. And she didn’t deviate from expectations. Her jaw fell slack. 

“No,” she sputtered. “No wa—”

He smiled (smiled!), “Oh, yes, Covey. I figured my item was a little bland. Yours, however…”

“You can help Hinata or Haeyoon,” she argued, “Hinata is about an art gallery. That’s a lifestyle item, that’s your thing.”

But Min-ho ignored her argument, instead walking past the threshold and promptly placing himself on one of the kitchen stools. Kitty followed suit, sending an alarmed look to the girls. Juliana appeared wholly impressed; Eunice had a hard time making eye contact. 

“Did you hear Kitty invite you in?” Juliana bit. “Leave.”

“We’re having a meeting,” Min-ho quipped. “It’ll just take a minute.”

Kitty sighed. “Min-ho, can you really not just do your article on colour analysis? It was good.”

He shook his head. “I already told Alex I’m not doing it. Look, the 4B Movement is strongly tied to optics and strict beauty standards. I want to explore that through a fashion lens,” he said. “Alex said we’ll get an extension since it’ll be a big article.” Leaning towards her, he uttered, “Don’t you want to be on the front page for once?”

Kitty paused, her eyes widening involuntarily at the well-executed seduction. The front page. She never got her article on the front page. The ‘XO, Kitty’ column had its fixed place on the fifth page and the little articles she did were never cover-worthy. Min-ho knew exactly where to strike. Pursing her lips, her gaze slid downwards to think. 

Cons: she’d have to work with Min-ho again when she has explicitly stated she didn’t want to do that anymore. She’d have to deal with his snobby attitude and hot-and-cold temperament. She would unwillingly compare her writing to his. He would overtake it, dominate it, and then she’d be silly, little Kitty again. 

Pros: if she did nail this item, she’d never allow Min-ho to forget it. Ha. 

Decided, she met his eyes and nodded. “Fine. Then we’ll continue working in the library.”

His smile vanished for a surprised frown. “Now?”

“Yes,” she said, clipped, “you want to work with me, so this is what we’re going to do. I found a possible person to interview. We’re going to formulate a message together in case she only speaks Korean. Let’s go.” With that, she grabbed her laptop from the coach, slipped into her sneakers and bid the girls goodbye. Min-ho followed her, aghast. 

“Is Korean culture finally rubbing off on you?” Min-ho jested, matching her stride in the hallway. “All kids are now in cram school until 2 am.”

“No. You said we’ll get extra time, but I doubt Alex will give us that much more time. It wouldn’t be fair to the others if we worked on this for, like, three weeks straight.”

“Three weeks? What’re you trying to do, Covey?”

Her teeth gritted at the nickname, but she persevered. “It goes way deeper than I thought. I still have to find what, like, exactly I want to discuss in the article, since there are so many ways it could go. Like, you have your fashion POV, but I don’t know what I want to highlight yet.”

They rounded the corner and went out the entrance doors. It was dark outside, with few students walking the grounds coming and going from the library and their dorm. On the other side of the quad, the library was lit and alive with shadows from peers studying and doing homework. Some of the kids at school basically survived on iced americanos and discipline. Kitty’s hands stuck inside her oversized, purple hoodie as the chill of the evening crept through the fabric. 

“You don’t know?” he repeated, incredulous. “You shamelessly coined yourself a matchmaker and then ended up crashing and burning your own situationship. I’d say you should discuss the ‘no heterosexual relationships’ rule.”

Oof. Another fucking blow from Ryu Min-ho. Had he made that comment a few months earlier, she’d be sobbing right now. Instead, she sent him the meanest scowl that he barely reacted to and then uttered: “Isn’t that, like… obvious?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like: ‘Of course Kitty would write about that.’ Like that.” She gestured in the air. “I don’t want to come off as too predictable.”

“You don’t know what your interviewee will say yet,” he reminded her. “The person may surprise you and then you won’t have a ‘predictable’ article.” He assessed her for a beat. “Since when are you unsure about your stuff?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Whatever.” Pressing her side into the heavy library doors, they swung open and brought light, chatter, and the hum of classical music outside. They stepped inside, the door falling shut behind them. “It was just a thought.”

After the scolding of Alex about the infamous ‘XO, Kitty’ column and the subsequent punishment, she felt uneasy about doing anything romance-related, especially since no Lover Boy had come forward. It either meant he played indifference really well and wasn’t caught, or he stayed off the face of the earth by hiding in his room. Both were horrible and she still felt incredibly guilty about it. Now, she was ignoring all the love-related questions in her inbox (as well as the curious ones asking about Lover Boy’s identity) and only chose the ones related to school or friend drama. 

She just didn’t want to make a mistake again. 

Unsurprisingly, Dae and his study group were still in the library, so Min-ho and her joined their large table. Dae joked to Min-ho that he shouldn’t steal his studious schtick and Min-ho actually smiled. It seemed like they resolved whatever was going on. Or literally nothing had gone wrong and she was just over-analysing. Kitty shook her head. Sometimes she should just not meddle and stay out of people’s business. 

Kitty showed Min-ho the comment ‘Yun-jin’ made. “Her profile is constantly getting updated too and she sounds like a young woman. Maybe I can talk to her.”

“ We can talk to her,” Min-ho corrected. “Or just me, if she only speaks Korean.”

“If she’s young, then she probably speaks English well,” she argued. “And to be honest, I’ll doubt she’ll want to speak to a guy.”

“This is different. I’m a journalist, not a guy that’ll hit on her.” He peered at her screen, tapping the message button on ‘Yun-jin’s profile. “You speak, I’ll type.”

Together they crafted a simple message, explaining to Yun-jin that they were student journalists interested in covering the movement and wondering if she was able to answer some questions, anonymously if needed. It was already pretty late, but maybe the person was a night owl. Kitty hoped so. The sooner they could get this on the road, the better. In the meantime, Min-ho and her split the research. 

It went back to 2018. A surge in femicides — the act of killing a woman for her gender — and sex-crimes pushed women to protest on the street and shave off their hair in an act of rebellion and anger. That renewed a conversation about women’s rights and gender roles in Korea, from the dynamic within relationships, to childbearing, to wages in the workplace. Kitty had to look up a lot of words from the articles and studies she read, feeling both overwhelmed and intrigued by the subject.

If she were honest, she’d admit that she didn’t really know Korea. She knew K.I.S.S. and the people at K.I.S.S., but she didn’t have any friends outside of that, nor family to visit. She hadn’t been confronted yet with the strict gender roles and she didn’t grow up wishing to change her jaw line or nose bridge. She actually quite liked her face. (Q once said she looked like the rabbit emoji, in, like, a cute way.) Seoul was hers to claim among the Song-Covey sisters, but how well did she know the city compared to LJ in New York and Margot in Scotland?     

If she were to stay here for a long time, she might date more Korean boys and come across guys that weren’t as sweet as Dae. She might realise, as the articles suggested, that it wasn’t all fun and games in the long run. Kitty wasn’t sure what her stance was. It confused her: how could a country as developed as South Korea be so close-minded in terms of gender and sexuality?   

Kitty didn’t ask Min-ho. Sometimes he spoke about Korea as though he birthed the country himself, so he would probably act as though she asked something silly. Or worse: rationalise it. Something along the lines of, ‘it is what it is’, like when she lost her favourite hat and he had just shrugged and said those words. Asshole. 

(Then again, he did send her links from YesStyle a couple hours later with identical looking hats.) 

One by one, students snuffed out the desk lights and trickled out of the library. Dae’s study group eventually went home as well, leaving Min-ho and Kitty to close up the library. It was well past midnight now. 

Kitty’s hands slid under her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “I don't understand how Dae does this every day,” she groaned. “How big is his brain?!”

Minho paused typing. “A lot of people study every night,” he mumbled. 

“Okay, what is going on with you and Dae? I know it's none of my business, but the vibes are really off.” She leaned towards him, curious. “Did you guys have a fight? Did he do something? Did you do something?”

He rolled his eyes with a scoff and he pushed her back with his index finger, careless. “No. And nothing is going on. I know Americans think you're supposed to be terminally happy, but friendships are actually allowed to have ups and downs.”

She frowned. “Ups and downs?” Something had to have happened between them. Distracting her with mockery wasn't working.

He dismissed her. Instead, he closed his laptop and said, “Let’s wrap up, yeah? How do you feel about the work we’ve done?”

“I think we know enough now to ask smart questions,” she trailed, “but I just hope that ‘Yun-jin’ replies.”

They packed up their belongings and flicked off the lights. Outside, it was dead quiet. Only from a distance did Kitty see a lonely security guard walking by the perimeter of the grounds. Without another word, the two walked to their dormitory buildings, but when the road split off from girls to boys building, he followed her. 

Kitty frowned. “What are you doing?” she whispered. 

“Walking you home,” he said, matter-of-fact, as though he did it every day. 

Blinking, she drawled, “Um… I can walk home alone, Min-ho. It's like—”

Min-ho cut her off with a huff. “Just let me do this, 빌어먹을.” Kitty knew that word: goddamn. Yuri loved to teach her expletives. 

Whatever. Kitty was tired and didn't feel like bickering. If Min-ho wanted to feel like a gentleman and walk her to her dorm, then so be it. It was kind of a cute gesture, in a weird Min-ho way. 

Slowing down by her door, she waited for Min-ho to turn around and walk off, but he didn’t. She belatedly realised he wanted to see her go inside. In her dorm. In the dormitory that was highly secured with, like, a billion key passes. He had to be exhausted. 

“We’ll do well on this assignment,” she whispered. And then, just to see him surprised, she repeated it in Korean: “우리는 이 임무를 잘 수행할 것입니다.”

Min-ho chuckled lowly and nodded. “Night, Covey.”

“It’s Kitty.”

Min-ho shrugged and sauntered off, saluting at her as he rounded the corner towards the elevator. With a silly smile, Kitty opened the door and quietly untied her shoelaces. Stupid, Min-ho and that stupid nickname. Maybe LJ and Peter should trademark it so Min-ho stopped using it. 

On the couch, a passed out Eunice was snoring. Their bowl of popcorn had fallen on the floor, kernels scattered on the carpet. Suppressing a giggle, Kitty tiptoed towards her, brushed the few kernels from her body, and then tucked her in with a blanket. 

By the time she cleaned up the carpet — heaving from staying quiet and having to grasp at popcorn in the dark — it was close to two in the morning. Class started at eight: Kitty Song-Covey would 100% be a zombie. 

Around four am, Kitty was awoken by the buzz of her phone. Sleep-addled and blind, she peered at the screen and forced her eyes to somewhat focus. She received a reply. 안녕, 키티. 얘기하고 싶은데 사진 찍고 싶지 않아요. 수요일에 시간 있으세요? 그때 만나서 커피 마시면서 편안하게 얘기할 수 있을 것 같아요. A quick translation read: Hello, Kitty. I want to talk, but I don’t want any pictures taken. Are you free on Wednesday? We can meet up for coffee and talk comfortably then.

The exhausted Kitty smiled. Bingo. She got her lead. 

Peabody Café was a small coffee shop in Yongsan-gu. It had dark flooring and tables, cream walls with each corner adorned by big plants. Above each table was a hanging plant as well. The menu tacked behind the register was modest, but tasty. 

Kitty noticed ‘Yun-jin’ immediately. She was the only woman sitting alone at a table, wearing a baggy hoodie and a twill hat. A shaggy pixie cut peaked out from underneath. 

Kitty straightened up and took a deep breath. This wasn't some fun, fluff piece about a K.I.S.S. event, or boy drama. This was real life. She had to treat it as such. Ironing the invisible wrinkles from her dungarees, she nudged Min-ho to follow her. 

Like their previous journalistic outing, they had changed into their street clothes. Kitty wore dark denim dungarees and a sunflower yellow hoodie underneath, with white sneakers she had doodled on. Meanwhile, Min-ho wore a Prada turtleneck and dark trousers. 

Min-ho and her would never match even if their lives depended on it. 

Approaching Yun-jin’s table, Kitty greeted her: “안녕하세요 키티에요! 윤진이세요?"

Yun-jin looked up from her iced Americano, her gaze sliding from Kitty to Min-ho. She frowned. “인터뷰를 위해 친구가 여기 있어야 합니까?”

Oh, shit. Alarmed, Kitty's head whipped to Min-ho, desperate for translation. 

“She’s asking why I'm needed here,” he said. 

“Oh. English?” Yun-jin said, practically fluent. Kitty sighed in reliëf and almost wanted to drop to the floor and kiss this stranger's feet. Finally! An English-speaker! “We can do the interview in English.” The woman paused again, once more flitting her eyes to Min-ho. “He can't be here though.”

Kitty frowned. “Why not?”

“I don't feel… comfortable talking about this with men around.” Her hands fidgeted with her cup. “Please.”

Shooting Min-ho a look, he quickly, though begrudgingly, got the memo and left to sit outside on a bench. She was relieved he didn't make a scene, or something. With how passionately he had been talking about his questions on the subway ride over, he took her rejection surprisingly well. 

Kitty sat down opposite of her. “Thanks again for wishing to speak to me. It was difficult finding someone that's nearby and willing.”

Yun-jin hummed. “It’s not easy to talk about. Like, even talking about this here will probably get some looks from the other customers.”

The young woman didn't wear a speck of make-up. Her small face, round chin and mono-lidded eyes made her appear almost doll-like. Her voice was pretty, too. Kitty imagined she used to be popular in school. 

Placing her K.I.S.S. recorder on the table, she asked: “Would you like to keep your nickname?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Kitty tapped the recording button and clasped her hands, hoping to contain her excitement so as to not embarrass the woman. Act cool. Yun-jin took time out of her day to talk to a student, so she should keep herself in check. “So, Yun-jin, what made you decide to take an active part in the movement?”

“I grew up in a very traditional household,” she said. “My father worked, my mom worked part-time but mostly did housework. He wasn't… nice to her. None of my friends dads’ were. My younger sister even started losing hair from stress because of how unpredictable our father was.” She took a sip from her drink. “So, when the 2018 protests happened, I realised I wasn’t the only one that felt this growing anger. So I joined 4B.”

Wow. All at once, Kitty discarded the perfectly-written questions she had brought with her. Hungry for more, she kept questioning Yun-jin on her story, flowing from her involvement in protests, the hate messages she has received online, to her aversion for men. 

“I haven't dated in the last three years.” She counted on her fingers, surprising herself with the number. “If I don't date, then I won't give up power either. I had a boyfriend once that wanted me to call him ‘my king’. In the first week of dating, by the way.” She snorted. “It's so stupid.”

“Do you miss parts of it?” Kitty asked. “Everyone wants to feel loved. It's normal to want that.”

Yun-jin smiled. “I feel love from my mother, my sister, my friends. I feel love when the barista remembers my order, or when 4B members meet up.” Her fingers tapped the table. “I’m content.”

“If you were to move, would you date again?”

She shook her head, frowning. “That’s a non-starter. I don't need to change or move. I refuse to move. Korea needs to change.”

Kitty nodded, squealing on the inside as that quote would make the perfect title for the article.

After a couple more questions, asking a few that she remembered Min-ho wanted answers for, Kitty ended the recording. She had twenty minutes of material. (Yikes, Min-ho had been waiting that long in the humid weather.)

“You’re good at this, Kitty,” Yun-jin noted, observing the girl pack up her stuff. 

“Oh!” she grinned. “Thanks!”

“That boy… is he your boyfriend?”

Kitty blushed. No one has ever presumed Min-ho and her were in a relationship. Her stomach twisted at the comment. She waved it off, awkward. “Oh, God, no. Ha! He’s just a member from the newsroom. He, well, he’s also writing about the 4B movement, but about fashion. Like, using fashion as an act of protest.” Gah, she was explaining this so poorly!

Yun-jin understood it though. “Good. And good that he’s not your boyfriend. Focus on this instead.”

“Yeah, I will.” 

Then Yun-jin smiled, nodding, and stood up from her seat. Her cup laid empty on the table. “Good luck with the article. Send it to me when you're done?”

After Kitty promised her, Yun-jin left. Min-ho instantly noticed and slipped inside, huffing and puffing and obviously annoyed. He asked the barista for a glass of water and plopped down where Yun-jin sat.  

“Seriously?” he grumbled. “Was it that top secret? Or is she repulsed by people with good style?”

“She hates men,” Kitty deadpanned. 

“Ah. So, it's not just celibacy.” Leaning in, he eyed her curiously, “What else did she say? Did you ask some questions for me?”

“I did. It’s all on the record, but she finds that not thinking about looking a certain way, like, looking the way people want her to, has given her more space to think about other stuff.” It fascinated Kitty when Yun-jin explained it to her. She had never considered it prior to meeting the 4B feminist. “She worded it better, but that’s the gist of it.”

She sighed. “It was so… empowering. I've never met anyone like her.”

“A manhater?” he quipped, unimpressed. 

“A woman with such firm beliefs and opinions! She sugarcoated nothing!” A dreamy Kitty let her back fall against the seat. “Like, she wasn't mean or judgmental or whatever. She just said what she wanted to say, in a super honest way.” 

Min-ho didn't bicker this time. He let her words sink in, contemplative, and they waited in silence until he finished his glass of water. Afterwards, they returned to the subway station. 

To their surprise, it wasn't busy with rush hour working people itching to get home. Their wagon was fairly empty, the two sitting on a long bench with just one other woman. It allowed Kitty to think. About Yun-jin and her content smile yet fiery words. About her worldview. About the fact that she hadn’t dated in three years. Kitty wondered if she had been wrong in her matchmaking. It was clear she wasn’t always right, considering her and Dae, so what if she brought people together that were terrible as a couple? What if she unwittingly matched a girl with a guy that treated women the way Yun-jin described? 

She felt uneasy. She had never thought her matchmaking actions could have a negative effect. Love was love and everyone loved love. No harm done. But this… this changed things. It brought the nausea of the schoolwide hunt for Lover Boy rush back into her stomach.  Alex was right: she hadn’t thought it through; she shouldn’t have replied to it. She shouldn’t assume intimate questions such as Lover Boy’s ought to be answered publicly. Not when the current state of dating in South Korea was this dire. 

Min-ho didn’t have to ask what she was thinking about, as she spoke up on her own. “Yun-jin spoke a lot about dating and how horrible it is in Korea and… have I been wrong? Like, have I been doing a bad thing, matchmaking people?”

Her clammy hand rubbed against the denim of her dungarees, awkward. She rarely asked Min-ho for his input, but she couldn’t keep it to herself. “Why would you think that?” he asked. 

“Because dating isn’t fun here,” she sighed. “Men want housewives here, they want their girlfriend to submit and unironically call them ‘king’ and just— what if I’ve brought a girl in a situation like that? What if I harmed someone?”

“You didn’t,” he said, matter-of-fact, never affected by her woes, “you don’t force people together. Suggesting two people could work well together doesn’t mean you harm them.” He shook his head and spread his arms stretched behind him, his thumb brushing her shirt for a split second. “You’re overthinking.”

Her lips pursed. Balancing her chin on her hand, she uttered: “I don’t know… I just feel very naive right now.” It was too earnest for her own good; a statement that Min-ho would no doubt make fun of. Kitty admitting her own shortcomings wasn’t a common occurrence.

She felt like she should apologise to everyone she bothered with her unsolicited dating advice. Hell, she felt like she should fully close down the ‘XO Kitty’ column! What would Yunjin think when she found out that was Kitty’s main role at The Weekly K.I.S.S. ? If she were Yun-jin, she’d feel blindsided after getting lauded with compliments and bright smiles. God, she was so stupid sometimes. 

“Kitty,” Min-ho spoke up tentatively, eyeing her with a gleam in his eye. “I’m going to say something kind and you need to swear on your life you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to say.” She blinked, baffled, and quietly lifted her pinky finger. With a roll of the eye, he hooked his pinky around hers and then said, dead-serious: “You bring people together, you help people connect. In a city of almost ten million, that’s a gift. You’re empathetic.” He smiled. “That’s a good thing.”

For a beat, Kitty was stunned. Her heart picked up and she felt short of breath, in awe that Min-ho could ease her mind and heart with just a few words. Another beat passed, where she just looked at him, and then realised she was staring.

“Awww, Min-ho,” she dramatically cooed, pouting, and clutched his hands. “You’re so sweet! Do you really mean that?”

His smile disappeared into the typical Min-ho Grumpy Expression. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t think it was true.” 

“You’re such a softie,” she grinned. “I bet you won’t force your future girlfriend to act like your mom.”

He scoffed. “Duh. And you’re not planning to become part of the 4B movement, are you?”

“No, I’m not.” As exciting as Yun-jin and the online forum was, it was filled with depressing stories and anger and hurt. Those stories ought to be heard, but Kitty preferred to stay on the sidelines. Besides: “I think I love love too much,” she mused, “and marriage and just, like, everything around that. I wouldn’t be able to say no to relationships like they do. It’ll just probably not be with a Korean guy.” 

She chuckled, adding: “Maybe you should join, with you being non-committal and all that.”

Something shifted in his demeanour then. The metro slowed down as he repeated: “Non-committal?”

“You’re not interested in relationships, right? That’s what you told me.” They stood up as the doors slid open at their stop, filing out with the few others on the train. A frown grew on his features, as though he didn’t understand what she was getting it; as though he wasn’t Ryu Min-ho, known and certified flirt. 

“I do want that,” he replied, behind her on the escalator. “I’ve changed my mind.”

Kitty laughed. “C’mon, Min-ho. You?” The two tumbled onto the pavement and were quickly swallowed by a swarm of passersby. They followed the stream, on their way back to school. Just to be safe, she hooked her finger around Min-ho’s satchel so they wouldn’t be ripped apart. “Just a couple months ago you were boasting about all the girls in your DM’s.”

“So?” He sounded icy, defensive. What was he so sensitive about? It was the truth! While she had been mourning her almost-relationship with Dae, he had shoved his phone in her face and had shown her all the girls asking for his attention. He’d even said it then: “Why cry about a boy you were never serious with if you can have fun instead?” It shouldn’t surprise him she had her mind made up about his stance on dating. 

“So… I don’t see you in a relationship,” she treaded carefully. “At least not right now.”

Min-ho huffed. Sending her a sideways glance, one she couldn’t describe other than ‘annoyed’, he said, “Kitty, have you considered the possibility that I don’t reply to those girls in my DM’s?”

“Huh?”

“If you must know, the last girl I had something with was Lulu, and that was over a year ago!”

What the hell was going on right now? Since when did Min-ho feel the need to justify himself? Kitty felt herself flailing, unsure how to handle this side of Min-ho. “I… okay? I don’t get why you’re telling me this.”

They rounded the corner into a quieter street and she let go of the satchel. The sudden loss of the tugging made him turn around to face her, his strange behaviour not passing. “Do you see me giving any girls attention? Like right now?”

“You… no. You don’t.” The realisation hit her suddenly and clearly. Min-ho was right. As far as she was aware, he wasn’t seeing anyone right now. That made it even weirder. If he wasn’t flirting with every girl anymore, then why wouldn’t he go for the cute, reliable girls that genuinely liked him? “But why though? Like, Eunice, for example. She’s so—”

“My God!” he exclaimed, his head falling back with a huff. “You’re denser than you look, Covey.”

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me, what?!”

“You heard me.” Min-ho closed the space between them and pressed a finger into his chest. “Don’t call me out for being non-committal when that is literally false. I don’t flirt and date a hundred girls. I only talk to you , Kitty, so, just—” With a frustrated huff, he cut himself off and stomped away from her. Kitty was left stunned. “아, 잊어버려. 이건 가망이 없어…”

“Dude, just talk in English!” she yelled after him. 

“You won’t understand me anyway!” he spat. Without another word, he walked off. 

What. The. Hell. Min-ho has never been this upset about their bickering. What did she have to do with any of this? Blaming her for the fact that he didn’t speak to other girls made no sense. His figure kept getting smaller and smaller, until he rounded another corner and disappeared from view. Storming off like that was so unlike him. All the times the group went out for dinner, or to the movies, or karaoke, he always shepherded the group from one location to the next.  

Kitty replayed the conversation in her head. He started acting strange the moment she called him non-committal. She guessed she just had been totally wrong. Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed the way she did. Still, that gave Min-ho no right to explode on her, to call her dense. She was so sick of people calling her dumb or ignorant or dense just because she didn’t attend posh schools growing up! A frustrated cry left her. Stupid, idiotic, infuriating Min-ho! Why couldn’t he just stay nice and sweet?

For some reason, tears sprung in her eyes as she continued the trek to school alone. This sucked. Min-ho and her were capable of becoming great friends, she was sure of it, but they never got it right. Either he got all snobby, or she acted out-of-place. She hated admitting it, but she wanted the same care and kindness that Min-ho gave Dae and Q. Glimpses of that sometimes illuminated their conversations, but it was never for long. 

How much longer would she try getting it right before they gave up?

It was close to dinnertime when she reached campus. Students sat grouped on the grass chatting or playing card games, in a far better mood than she was. In the distance, she saw Eunice and her dance team rehearse a hip-hop routine. Kitty sighed. She shouldn’t have brought her up either. 

As always, Alex sat editing articles in the newsroom. His forehead appeared oily from humidity, his glasses leaving a red mark on his nose bridge. Some things never changed. Kitty went straight to business. “Professor Finnerty, about the 4B article, we—”

“Min-ho already asked me to give you guys time, it’s okay,” he interrupted, waving a red pen around. His fingers were stained with the colour. Alex paused, assessing her. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” she choked out. There was no casual way to express what she felt. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Dandy . Super .”

“Kitty?”

“I’m gonna go eat,” she said, pointing over her shoulder to the door. “So, um, yeah, have a great rest of your evening, professor Finnerty.”

“Is something wrong?” he called after her.

“Nothing’s wrong!” she exclaimed. “Bye!” Closing the door, she rushed to the restroom to get a hold of herself before she faced her friends at dinner. The restroom was empty. A tired reflection stared back at her. 

Shrugging the sleeves of her sweater, she allowed the cool tap water to stream across her wrists and then pressed them into her neck. After she wiped off some mascara residue under her eyes, she looked a little more awake. 

“C’mon, Kitty,” she whispered to herself, “you didn’t fly across the world to follow your dreams just to get stumped by some guy in designer pants.” That did it. Her back straightened after the small pep talk and she closed the tap. A determined smile fixed itself on her face. There. Now she was ready. 

But when she came eye to eye with Min-ho in the canteen, everything came bubbling to the surface. 

“What the hell did you say to me in Korean?!”

Chapter Text

"JESUS CHRIST, CALM DOWN," MIN-HO HISSED, pushing her into her seat. The entire canteen heard her scream. Kitty, frankly, gave no fucks. She already disrespected the canteen when she stood on the table last year for a cringy speech. “I just said that it’s hopeless trying to talk to you. Clearly, I was right.”

He didn’t look much better than she did. Outside, she hadn’t noticed his weary expression and the tired frown between his brows. Min-ho took such great care of his skin, that their fight must’ve cracked something. She’d be proud of herself if she wasn’t fuming.

Q stared at them in disbelief, his fingers frozen around a pair of chopsticks ever since Kitty yelled. “What happened to you guys?”

“We got into an argument, that’s all,” Min-ho rushed, before Kitty could spill the beans with all details attached. It was probably better that way; the majority of the canteen was trying to eavesdrop right now. No one needed to know what had been shared between them. “She just– we had a misunderstanding.”

“That’s an understatement,” she muttered, crossing her arms. Across from her, Yuri was scrutinising her and Min-ho, her eyes flitting between the two like a game of tennis. 

Juliana trailed, “Did… the interview not go well?”

Kitty shook her head. “It went well. Please, let’s just drop it.”

“Says the girl that just lost her shit,” Min-ho grumbled, earning a simultaneous glare from Dae, Q and Kitty. That was rich! She lost her shit? He was the one that waited until they were in a quiet street to explode on her. Min-ho raised his hands in surrender when he realised he was getting cornered, and resumed eating his bulgogi.

Kitty knew Q would ask her the details after dinner, considering he kept throwing her concerned yet curious glances. Then again, Yuri might corner her first. She didn’t know what to say though. Min-ho got mad and she didn’t fully know why; there was no ‘hot tea’, or whatever. 

Whenever she and Min-ho talked, her people skills failed her. He was as big of an enigma as his skin care collection was extensive. 

After an awkward dinner where Min-ho and her refused eye contact and conversation was stilted, Kitty fled to the library and worked on homework in one of the quiet corners. Coursework had been on the backburner because of the 4B preparation, so she had to make haste with a history paper due soon.

She also emailed Min-ho the recording of today. She hated how her voice sounded on the audio and hoped he wouldn't say anything about that. Then again, they had a cold war going on, so that wouldn't be a problem. 

Unfortunately, her ‘quiet corner’ wasn't that inconspicuous, as just then Yuri and Q stormed towards her with mischief gleaming in their eyes.

“Kitty, spill.” Q said, not waiting for Kitty's deflections. 

“Yeah, what the hell was that?” Yuri added. “Did you steal his favourite moisturizer or something?”

Kitty paused. Every time they jested about Min-ho, or laughed at his expense, it was about something vain, like skin care or his clothes. And sure, he cared about those things, but how did he feel about being perceived as such? He knew that their jokes were always with good intent in mind, but even that could pile up into a greener, uglier monster at the back of his head. Maybe that was why he snapped: fed up from years of people thinking that all he cared about was himself. 

Because he didn’t, Kitty found herself thinking, decisive and bright; he didn’t, because he cared about every person he interviewed, about his friends, his mother, his grades, this school. He took Q out for smoothies when he felt homesick and fought for Dae’s scholarship when it was in jeopardy, and he vowed to Yuri he’d always defend her if shit were to hit the fan. 

Hell, he might care about her a little, too. 

Kitty groaned, her head falling on the desk. Damn, she hated it when she realised she made a mistake. Stupid self-reflection. 

“Kitty?” Yuri crouched at her seat. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I should apologise,” she groaned. “Shit.”

“ You need to apologise?” Q repeated, dumbfounded. “That’s new.”

“I was being judgemental when it was so unnecessary.” Kitty cringed. “I don’t think he’ll want to talk to me though, for like, the next ten years. He was really mad.”

“What did you say anyway?” Yuri asked. “It can’t be that bad.”

The girl sighed, shame catching up to her. “I– I basically called him undateable.”

Q gasped, Yuri grimaced, and Kitty got her embarrassment confirmed. She and her big, American mouth—always blabbing when she shouldn’t! 

“Why would you—?” Q halted his own words, pensive, and then uttered: “This was about the 4B thing, wasn’t it?”

Before Kitty could respond, Yuri shook her head and quipped: “You should just apologise right now and fix it.”

“No, she should wait,” argued Q. “He needs to cool down first.”

“‘Cooling down’ is such a guy thing. It doesn’t even make sense.” The girl placed a hand on Kitty’s shoulder. “Right, Kitty?”

A weak smile formed on her lips. Right, wrong: at this moment she seemed unfit to decide on that. “Um… I think I’ll just do some homework right now. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Or something. Or never, preferably, so she didn’t need to deal with the gnawing shame curling in her chest. But she didn’t tell her friends that. 

The first time Min-ho and Kitty hung out alone, she had already attended K.I.S.S. for a couple weeks. The group had planned a tteokbokki date after school, but then Yuri got sick, Q had an extra practice scheduled, and Dae's study group called for a cram session. 

So, suddenly, it was just Min-ho and her standing outside the tteokbokki bar. 

At first they didn't know what to talk about without biting each other's noses off—him put off by her ignorance and her annoyed by his snobby attitude—but then they found common ground in spicy food, a mystery K-drama, and, surprisingly, their mothers. 

It hadn't felt awkward bringing up Eve Song to Min-ho. Rather, it had been quite… nice. He never gave a pitying look that afternoon. In the moment, she had thought that he didn't have a sympathetic bone in his body, but now she realised all too well that it was the opposite. 

Min-ho had shown her a million times that he was actually an okay guy, and she had refused to see that each time.

His love for his own mother was endearing. He didn't divulge into details, but that made it sweeter to Kitty; like he refused to share the moments with others, as though it would lose meaning if spoken aloud, if tried to create a picture for someone else. 

But she was a horrible cook apparently, he has said, and she loved spicy food as well. To her surprise, their moms listened to the same music. Maybe all people in their late forties liked the new wave genre. 

Kitty never told her friends about that afternoon. To them, Kitty still disliked Min-ho. She believed her previous judgement justified her apprehension. And maybe it did, for a while, but now? How could she justify it now, when shame rolled around her chest? 

He ought to apologise too for raising his voice at her, but she had to bear some of the weight as well. Damn it. 

“Right,” she uttered, “it’s a guy thing…”

Q sighed. “Whatever. If my dorm becomes a warzone, I’ll let you guys know.”

That evening, while she got ready for bed, she received a text from Q. She had expected the threat of war—effectively ending the cold war and probably Kitty’s time in Seoul—but it was something wholly different. Something worse. 
— Q: if it’s worth something, Min-ho is sulking in his room 

Gah! It only made her feel worse. The idea of anyone being sad because of her got the burn of previous tears return to her eyes. Turning her phone face-down, she dropped dead on her bed. Her eyes fell on the soda can. She should throw it away; she really should. But she couldn’t: limbs heavy and heart wearier. 

At the tteokbokki bar she had ordered a peach soda. And he remembered that. 

Min-ho was a pest, but he definitely was not undateable. 

The following day, she took advantage of the first free period to start writing her article in the newsroom, as well as find a message from the ‘XO Kitty’-inbox to reply to and submit to Alex for check-up. He revoked her editorial card on that one.

But as she opened the door, eyes gliding across the rows of old iMacs, the DIY green screen and closet of equipment, her gaze halted—stumbled—on the anomaly in the room: Min-ho. He looked up from his laptop and just like that, the peace was gone: he grimaced. 

All the progress she made evaporated like dust in that moment, with his scowling and grimacing and pulling the typical Min-ho expressions. All the regret she felt, the shame, the confusion, the whiplash from his emotions, it all simmered over like a pot of milk left too long on the stove. Her hands turned clammy and her head hot and her uniform too small—or perhaps her fingers itchy to rip his own uniform off in a fit of rage.  

With a stomp on the floor, she closed the door behind her and huffed: “Look, I’m sorry!”

“About what?”

Her hands balled. “You know about what. About yesterday.”

Min-ho scoffed, regarding her as nothing more than the gum on his shoe. “Do you know what an apology is? You ought to look apologetic for that.”

Was he seriously debating her now on how she should say sorry? At least she had the balls to do it! “I am.” 

His brows raised, unimpressed, as though she didn’t have evidence that he had, in fact, been upset yesterday evening. His laptop snapped shut as he stood up as well. “No, you’re angry.”

“I'm angry, because you make it so difficult!”

“Difficult?” He tasted the word like he never heard it before, foreign and incredulous. Walking around the table and approaching her, he uttered: “If there’s one person that’s difficult, it’s you with your American mouth.”

“That!” she pressed, pointing at him. “I’m trying to apologise and you keep insulting me! Why do you do that?! Why do you insist on acting like some entitled—”

“Entitled what?”

“항문!” she yelled. Min-ho’s mouth fell slack, shocked. Kitty smirked and got all up in his face: “Yeah, I know ‘asshole’ in Korean!”

“Kitty—!”

“One second you act so sweet and the next you pretend I’m trash and you should stop !”

His eyes blazed with a fury she hadn’t seen before; neither anger or intrigue, something in between, and it only unnerved her more. “I should stop—?”

“And I’m sorry that I called you undateable, but then why do you act like you don’t care about anything?!” Kitty let out a ragged breath. “Why do you act like—?!”

Min-ho placed a finger on her lips. Her eyes widened stunned, her heart picking up and beating in her throat at his roguishly boyish smirk. As though he had any right to be amused right now. “You want me to stop?” he whispered. The smirk fell. “Then you should stop being so– so aggravating.”

Kitty pushed his finger away. “Aggravating? Newsflash, Min-ho, being American is not a crime.”

“No, it's you ,” he spit. A frustrated hand went through his perfectly coiffed hair, ruffling up the strands and falling out of step. “It’s not about that, it’s just about you. You are making me lose my mind.”

“Good!”

The two kept spiralling downwards into more rage than they ever dared to express, but somehow, for some goddamn reason, she began to focus on his hair, his hooded eyes, the twitch of his lip as he kept an annoyed huff at bay. Even worse: his smell. A cologne that, now close enough, tickled her nose. She was displeased to realise she liked it; something warm and herbal, like clementine, pepper, and cypress. Her head was all jumbled. 

His eyes narrowed. “I thought you were sorry.”

“That was before you called me aggravating!” she huffed. “Just let me live.”

Crossing his arms, he shrugged and said: “Well, I wanted to apologise for yesterday, but now, I suddenly don’t feel like it anymore.”

She scowled. “So, you’ll stoop even lower? Even when you know you were wrong?”

For just a split second, he didn’t know what to say, but then he sighed, suffering through three little words. “Will you stop?”

A frown formed on Kitty’s face. What was he exactly talking about now? Or was he deflecting her question, like always? “What? Being myself?”

“Yes! Yes, yourself! Did you not hear me?! When you’re around, I—” His eyes closed with a ragged huff and now two hands raked his hair. It stood in all directions. Fingers pressed into his temple. If she were to just walk in, she’d think he just ran a marathon; cheeks flushed and all. Then, finally, he conceded: “Jesus Christ, okay, sorry for lashing out at you yesterday. There. Now just drop it, Covey.”

Covey! That stupid nickname again! Just like that, she got riled up to eleven again. Pressing her finger into his chest, she tapped his sternum with each staccato word. “Stop! Calling! Me! That! My name is Kitty!”

He groaned. “Seriously? You’re mad about that, too?”

“My sister is called Covey by her boyfriend.” Her mouth twisted, displeased at the thought of mixing the fairytale romance of LJ and Peter with whatever mess Min-ho and her had going on. “It just sounds like you’re flirting now.”

“What if I am?” he dared, head tilted with challenge. 

“Sure,” she laughed, humourless. “You have a weird way of flirting, Ryu.”

“You’re not listening.” Min-ho leaned in, eyes locked with hers. “What if I am? Flirting?”

Kitty swallowed back a sudden surge of nerves, his closeness and imploring gaze causing her shoulders to lose their tension and her breath to pick up. Luckily, her voice stayed even. She wouldn’t be swayed by a stupid hypothetical like that. “Then you’d be lying. You wouldn’t flirt with me.”

Min-ho paused for a beat, eyes flitting across her face for a sign, for something , and then he backed off. It was only two steps, but Kitty felt like she could breathe again. Her entire body felt hot and burning.  

“I…” he trailed, all irritation having left his tone and stance. Kitty waited. (For a joke, a rejection, a confirmation of her belief? She didn’t know.) Min-ho visibly swallowed. “W–what’re you doing here anyway?”

“I was going to work on the 4B article.” Was, being the key word. Kitty had no clue if she was able to focus again. It did feel good though to let it all out. She didn’t know if it solved anything—it certainly didn’t feel like it—but she had needed this fight. It had been brewing under the surface for weeks. 

Lara Jean, ever the pacifist, would tell her a fight like that was never the answer, but unfortunately, Kitty didn’t have that middle kid attitude. She was the youngest and was therefore allowed to grow up as an absolute menace. If she were in a joking mood, she’d say a fight with a rich, only child was simply bound to happen.

He nodded. “I started on mine.”   

His face was open—the expression, she knew, that meant they should let it all go—and she felt all emotion bleed from her limbs. They felt heavy, like her body exhausted itself from a heavy work-out. Now, she was left vulnerable; exposed after screaming her heart out and having him scream back. Had someone told a younger Kitty she’d fight the way she did, apologise the way she had done now, she wouldn’t believe them. Min-ho pushed her to limits that she was, frankly, scared of.

Dae had always felt safe and calm. In a sort of boring way, but safe. She was never challenged like this. A part of her wondered if this—the fight—was that aforementioned limit. Now that everything was said and done, it couldn’t get worse. 

Maybe they could even get tteokbokki again.  

Kitty sighed. “Can we… can we do a truce or something?”

“Yes,” he said, without a doubt. “Please.”

Sticking her pinky finger out to him, she watched a smile twitched on his lips—disgruntled, amused, quietly pleased—and he hooked his pinky around hers. It held a tighter grip than the one on the subway just 24 hours ago. They stayed like that for a moment, Kitty finding herself watching him—something she’s been doing more—and watching him watch her. It felt intimate. That she knew what he saw, knew what he thought of her, and that he agreed to a truce anyway. 

Their fingers let go and fell back to their sides. Kitty took a steadying breath and put more distance between them, finding a seat at one of the desks to start working on the 4B article. The air was still tense, but they resolved the problem. That was all that mattered. 

Min-ho sat opposite of her and opened his laptop. A part of her wanted to play some music, but she didn’t want to ruin the vibe even more, so she grabbed her headphones and blasted the playlist Yuri had made for her. Maybe, if she played it hard enough, she would be able to ignore the obvious glances Min-ho sent every few seconds. 

“What if I am? Flirting?” echoed in her head, bouncing off the walls of her brain like the perfect ballad in a quiet arena. Why would he suggest such a thing? How could he even think of something so odd when she had just called him an asshole, entitled, and uncaring? Min-ho’s type was, like, the opposite of Kitty. Like, Lulu. Lulu was a K-pop trainee: tall and skinny and fully Korean and fair-skinned. Meanwhile, Kitty hadn’t grown since the eighth grade, she had stubby limbs and tanned skin, wasn’t very athletic, and was very much blind without her lenses or glasses. And with the amount of times he called out her American tendencies, she had an inkling he didn’t prefer foreigners either.  

What did it even matter? Sure, she’d be a liar if she said Min-ho wasn’t objectively attractive, but it didn’t mean anything. Min-ho just wanted to fool her once more. 

The quiet part of her brain betrayed her, however, and whispered, wondering, if he spoke the truth. Min-ho never lied; he had no reason to. He just said what he wanted to say and never bore the consequences, because he was rich and popular. “What if I am? Flirting?” 

Shaking her head, she focused on the empty Word document in front of her. Focus, Kitty. Focus on what was important. Stretching her fingers onto the keyboard, she wrote the first part she presumed would become the lead. 

A collective anger has been growing in South Korea for the past few years. In 2018, a surge in cases of cybersex crimes, IRL harassment, and femicide, spread around the country. Women protested on the street for the injustices against their gender, as well as the lack of action the federal government was taking to protect them. When nothing changed, the 4B movement was born. A feminist movement where women subscribed to the belief of no dating, no heterosexual relationships or sex, and no children. 'Yun-jin', a Seoulite part of the 4B movement, spoke about the experiences that led her to join.

Minutes before the bell rang to indicate the end of the first period, Min-ho stood up and moved to peer over her shoulder. Tentatively, he asked: “How is it going?”

Kitty removed her headphones and shrugged. “I think it’s an okay start.”

“It is.” He patted her shoulder. “Let’s go to class.”

An amiable pat on the shoulder. Completely innocent. There was nothing to worry about. Collecting her thoughts, Kitty followed him out into the hallway. 

The following days went by in a blur. Before, between and after classes, Min-ho and her cooped themselves up in the newsroom or library to work on their articles. Somewhere along the hours, she submitted an ‘XO, Kitty’-column for publication, but it definitely wasn't her best work. 

The first time they met up in the library, an iced Americano and peach soda stood waiting on her, as well as Min-ho that refused to accept her thanks. But the gesture was there. (The faint blush on her cheeks as well, but only because she hadn’t expected it.)

Side by side, they shared earphones and listened to the recording of Yun-jin a dozen times over, to catch each detail, each nuance. About thirty tabs were open on Kitty’s laptop, all to fact check Yun-jin’s claims. If the two weren’t studying or doing coursework, they fiddled with their second, third, fourth draft of their articles. Sometimes they switched computers and skimmed each other's work, checking for flaws and pointing out structural quirks. 

Alex was eager to edit them, but neither would submit something they weren't 100% proud of. Min-ho took it as seriously as his renowned article from last year. He agonised over each sentence, way more than she ever would. One evening, he even rushed into the library while wearing a face mask and his silk pyjamas, suddenly needing her opinion on a certain phrase he thought of. 

Yeah, he wanted to get into that youth magazine this time. 

Fortunately, Alex gave them a couple more days. He extended it each time they came grovelling at his feet, arguing that the impossible workload interfered with their writing. They were lucky Alex was an Aussie and a procrastinator. Had it been Lee, he’d long kicked them out of the newsroom for disrespect. 

It was Wednesday now, a full week after the interview, and they needed to send their final version to Alex Thursday afternoon. It was safe to say it was crunch time. The two sat on the ground, tucked into one of the corners of the library, hidden by books and a rounded alcove. Surrounding them drifted the chatter and comfortable hum of studying students; a typical evening. 

While Kitty slurped on the Americano Min-ho had gotten her, he was in the zone, eyes glued to his screen, EarPods in, and writing at a rapid speed after she pointed out a paragraph that needed to be explained better. His article also featured street photography commissioned by another student, so she noted the splashes of colour from her periphery. Kitty’s gaze returned to her laptop, her glasses balanced at the tip of her nose. At this state, Kitty couldn’t care anymore. 

As focused as he was, as distracted she had become. Not only was she spiralling into doubt with each glance at her article, it was also Min-ho’s fault. He smelled too nice. Who the hell smelled this warm and boyish and fresh at this hour?! He was no doubt swallowing a mean comment about her faded perfume. 

Kitty dumped her head on the keyboard with a moan, tired of writing and rewriting the same thing forever. “I’m sick of this!” she exclaimed. 

Min-ho chuckled. “What did you say? I don’t think the people in Busan heard you.”

“Funny.”

“Kitty—”

“It’s bad!” she whined. 

A laugh slipped from his lips, betraying his amusement at her predicament. Of course he’d find this funny! “It’s not bad.”

“It’s horrible, Min-ho.” Her head whipped up to gaze at him, mournful. “I think my English is broken. They should check me for dyslexia.”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t have dyslexia. It’s a good article, Kitty.”

“It should be better,” she uttered, eying the leading paragraph with disgust. When she first wrote it, she thought it was great, but now she found it derivative and reductive and stupid. If laptops weren’t super expensive, she’d throw the thing across the room in a fit of frustration. 

Dropping her head again, she felt the keys dig into her forehead and figured she deserved that for writing such a piece of garbage. Adios, career in writing! All she was good for were silly romance columns that made sensitive boys open their hearts only for it to get ripped apart in group chats. 

A soft hand touched the crown of her head. Kitty stilled. Min-ho softly patted her hair—caressed her—and let it lay there. “You’re overthinking,” he muttered. “Like always. Stop overthinking.” Then he continued: rubbing his fingers into her scalp and slowly caressing up and down the crown; a proper massage had her hair not been thrown into a bun. 

Kitty sighed. She normally didn’t overthink, but The Weekly K.I.S.S. challenged her self-esteem in ways she still learned to deal with. But this… was nice. Minho’s soft touch gliding across her head, his fingers briefly going under her hair tie—as though debating pulling it off—and then retreating to a safer spot. It was awfully intimate. She never expected Min-ho to be so…

The boy gave her head another soft pat and then let his hand slip away. She almost wanted to snatch it and put it back, but didn’t. His hand wasn’t hers to hold and coax. Kitty looked up and found his eyes were already on her.  

“Have you stopped overthinking?” he asked. 

“Yeah…” Straightening her back, she nodded at his screen. “How are you so confident in your article?”

“I’ve been doing this for longer,” he said, matter–of-fact, like that changed anything. She knew great artists that still suffered from crippling anxiety at the thought of showcasing their work to the world. Longevity didn’t equate to a surge in confidence. Maybe it had something to do with his British upbringing.

(Min-ho never spoke of his father. She didn’t dare bring it up.)

Kitty took another sip of her coffee. Despite Min-ho’s useless answer, the unsaid was much clearer to her. He did it longer, but he said nothing about perfection—which he usually loved pointing out—or his one famous article. It was just an article, Kitty reminded herself, not a thesis or Nobel Prize speech. 

If she kept tinkering on the details, the story of the 4B movement wouldn’t be heard and she’d disappoint ‘Yun-jin’ and everyone else involved. This article wasn’t about Kitty and her shitty confidence issues. She could work on that later— this went into print tomorrow night. 

“You’re horrible at advice,” she muttered, though renewed vigour pushed her to finish a part she had given up on. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed. “I am a beacon of wisdom.”

She snorted. “Sure. Do beacons of wisdom always run into the library, about to fight me on a semicolon?” She caught his eye, teasing. “Hm?”

A smile grew on his mouth, one hidden by his hand and a shake of the head. But she saw it.  She couldn’t quite describe the feeling, but it was thrilling making Min-ho smile. (Even a sleep-deprived, wrinkled-uniform-wearing, great-smelling Min-ho.) 

“Some do.”   

That Friday, kids from every year and club walked around with the newspaper in their hands, their noses stuffed between the third and fifth page; Kitty and Minho’s spreads, respectively. For the first time since Yun-jin’s interview, she beamed and felt pride in her work. When Alex finally read it for editing, he had raved and barely made any changes. Min-ho had only gotten a few notes either.

Yun-jin loved the article, too. Minutes after Kitty sent her the PDF, Yun-jin had replied with heart emojis and a meaningful thank you. Suddenly, all her worries seemed silly. Who cared about perfection if she shone light on an activist movement and made a member happy? 

“Hey, Kitty!” Madison approached her on the quad, also with a newspaper in hand. Tendrils of red-dyed hair breezed in the warm wind. The girl’s article about zodiac signs was pushed to a later page because of Min-ho and her, but Madison didn’t seem disgruntled. Then again, nothing disconcerted her. “ Love the article.”

“Thanks!” Kitty grinned. “I liked yours, too.”

“Yeah, it’s all right.” Her eyes scanned the page again, pointing at one of the quotes Kitty had pulled and put in a large font. “Like that’s a great quote. I mean, it’s not as good as that Lover Boy message though, but still nice.”

Kitty blinked, wondering if she misheard her because of her breathy American accent. “What?”

Madison dismissed it with a casual wave of the hand. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s well-written, but it’ll no way get the same hype that your column did. Like, that could’ve gone viral , you know?”

“I guess…?”

“Anyway, this was a fun one!” Madison cheered and squeezed Kitty’s arm in lieu of support. Fixing a smile on her face, she waited for the girl to stroll inside and restrained herself from fighting her. Kitty had no clue if she was a master in backhanded comments or earnest to a fault. 

Shaking her head, she continued her trek to mom’s tree. It had been a while since she visited and she supposed her mom ought to know about the new developments in her life. She’d be proud of the article. Her body dropped against the tree trunk, hands gripping the paper. Uncaring of the weird looks she received, Kitty told her mom about the article, the 4B movement, the Lover Boy fiasco, and Min-ho. Particularly about Min-ho. Somehow, he slipped to the front of her mind. 

“Hey, Kitty, can I talk to you for a second?”

Kitty glanced up with a frown, the sun beating her eyes. It was Eunice. Her roommate hopped from one foot to the other, visibly nervous.

“Hey, Eunice. Sit down. What’s up?”

“It’s about Min-ho.”

Chapter Text

NERVES SPIKED UP HER BACK AT THE SIMPLE SENTENCE. It’s about Min-ho. Had she seen Kitty and Min-ho hanging out and presumed the worst? Or worse: had Min-ho done something to her, said something rude, that she now wanted to discuss? Eunice was more sensitive than Kitty; one bad word and the girl was seconds away from crying. If Min-ho harmed her roommate in any way, he better pray for his life. 

Plopping on the grass beside Kitty, Eunice sighed and placed her head on her hands. Her doll-like features stared Kitty in the face, imploring, which only stressed her out further. Eunice had a way of piercing through anyone with her gaze. If she wanted to, she could become an actress, or K-pop star. With the little shade the tree offered, she noticed her roommate’s nerves better; the pursed lips, the fidget in her brows. 

Kitty placed a hand on her knee. “What’s wrong, Eunice? What happened with Min-ho?”

“You’re close with him, right?”

Her mouth fell slack. Was this about her? Maybe Eunice had seen them work in the library and had presumed the worst, now deciding to confront her about it. Letting out an awkward chuckle, she trailed: “I mean, I wouldn’t say we’re close, like—”

“You’ve worked with him on two articles, one really big one,” she cut off, as though that explained their entire turbulent relationship. If anything, they had gotten close to not killing each other on sight. Eunice bit her lip. “So, I, uh, I was wondering if you could help me… get a date with him.”

A date with Min-ho. The girls were back to square one. It appeared that Eunice had forgotten the waterfall of tears that drowned their bedroom a month ago. There were 1,6 million boys around her age in South Korea, but she had her eyes set on Ryu Min-ho. It made no sense to Kitty. “Huh? What about Hyein? I thought your friendship was more important?”

“It is, but she moved on to someone else.” She gave a tentative smile. “She doesn’t care about Min-ho anymore. So, I figured I should try just once.”

Kitty has been so wrapped up with The Weekly K.I.S.S. that she missed that morsel of gossip. Normally, she was the first to find out when a girl moved on and the first to suggest a new boy, setting their sights on better horizons. Without her realising, Kitty had fallen off the totem pole of matchmaking. An unsettling revelation. Who was she if not the master of love? 

Besides, she wasn’t sure if she should continue matchmaking. The response to the 4B article has been positive and ‘Yun-jin’ was so happy with the final result. A girl from one of her classes even texted her that she had a similar experience to ‘Yun-jin’—a secret so upsetting yet ubiquitous she’d keep it forever—and Professor Lee didn’t scowl at the stack of newspapers being passed around for once. Kitty ought to schedule a meeting about the future of the ‘XO, Kitty’-column. Writing and giving advice about romance just didn’t sit right anymore. 

So, matchmaking Eunice with Min-ho made her feel really uneasy.   

Unsure how to voice all that, she stumbled over her words. “Oh, um…”

“Please, Kitty?” Eunice begged, crawling closer. “For me?”

Kitty fiddled with the ends of her hair. The end of the story was already written out in her head: with a blasé rejection from Min-ho and a twice-heartbroken Eunice crying in her arms. “I–I don’t know, Eunice. He told me he’s not looking to date right now, like he’s not talking to girls, or something.”

“Except with you.”

“Yeah, except—” Kitty halted, her eyes widening for a fraction as Min-ho’s words surged to the front of her mind. I don’t flirt and date a hundred girls. I only talk to you, Kitty. He hadn’t been wrong; Min-ho only talked to her. Yuri didn’t count, as she was basically married to Juliana. Mumbling, Kitty repeated to herself: “Except… with me.”

“Yes,” Eunice continued, oblivious to Kitty’s turmoil, “so that’s why I’m hoping you can ask him if he likes me, or is at least interested in getting to know me better.”

A frazzled Kitty—Min-ho only talked to her! He only talked to her!—stumbled over her words, trying and failing to say the correct thing, to ask the correct questions. “Eunice… why do you even like him? He barely looks your way.”

She frowned. “That’s mean, Kitty.”

“I’m sorry, but I–”

“Do you like him?” Eunice’s brows raised to her hairline, as though she cracked the code, meanwhile Kitty fell deeper into the mess that was this conversation. Liking Min-ho? That was inconceivable! What gave Eunice the idea that Kitty—bright-eyed, deeply American, talkative—liked Min-ho, of all people? A year and a half ago, she was still mooning over Dae: a boy the total opposite of him. 

“What? No!” Gesturing wildly, she grabbed the attention of passersby. Tempering her voice, she added: “Why would you even think that?”

“Because you and Min-ho are always together!” Eunice exclaimed. As though summoned by the devil himself, Kitty watched in horror over Eunice’s shoulder as Min-ho appeared around the corner and onto the quad. He had two iced Americanos in his hands and it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to discover who the second one was for. 

Shit, shit, shit!        

If Eunice saw Min-ho giving Kitty her coffee, she would lose her mind and not be swayed in her opinion. Kitty didn't like Min-ho and she assumed he didn't like her either, but optics mattered—and to Eunice, the iced Americano would be a declaration of love.

Kitty grabbed Eunice into a hug to refrain her from seeing Min-ho. Unfortunately, he caught sight of them. While she babbled nonsense to Eunice to soothe her mind, Min-ho made the descent to the courtyard. Oblivious idiot. 

Waving at him with alarm, the boy faltered in his step. Soon, hugging Eunice for so long would become awkward and she’d realise what was happening. He took another step, confused, and she mouthed at him to stay back. That was when it seemed to click for him. From far away, she saw his eyes flit to Eunice’s back and widen in understanding. With a curt nod, he turned around and strode out of their sight. 

Kitty let out a breath of relief. 

The girls let go. “Please, Kitty?” Eunice trailed, pouting to the max. 

Kitty puffed out a laboured sigh. This girl… “Okay, I'll talk to him about it. But no promises of happy endings, okay?!”

Eunice squealed. “Thank you! You're the best!”

A forced smile formed on her lips. She felt anything but the best, the simple lie that Min-ho and her actually have gotten close in the last week, hung between Kitty and Eunice in an obvious and dreadful manner. Eunice wasn't stupid. She'd figure it out eventually. 

The bell rang and the girls walked to their respective classes. Unfortunately, Kitty shared a history class with Min-ho. He stood outside the classroom looking like an absolute dork holding two drinks and a big frown etched in his forehead. She'd find it cute if she wasn't still reeling from the conversation. 

When he noticed her approaching, he called out: “That was rude.”

“That was me saving your ass,” she replied, grabbing the untouched Americano from his grip. “You should thank me.”

“What?”

“Eunice was…” Kitty trailed off. Girl Code above all, Kitty reminded herself, and shut her mouth before she spilled all of Eunice's deepest secrets to the boy in question. She had to wait for a more proper moment to broach the subject. “She was having a moment. You wouldn't have helped.”

Min-ho slowly nodded, suspicious, but then said: “I asked they add vanilla syrup to yours.” A smile bloomed. “We smashed it with our articles.”

Kitty matched his expression, giddy to be reminded, and tapped the cup against his to cheer. “Yun-jin told me she liked the article and asked me to say yours was good as well.” Hopping on her heels, unable to contain her energy, she buoyed. “We’ll for sure have the best article of the year!”

His brows raised. “We?”

“They’re accompanying pieces, right?” She smirked. “Don't tell me you have trouble sharing. That's major only child energy.”

Min-ho scoffed. “I don't have ‘only child energy’.”

“That’s what an only child would say,” she sang, teasing. 

“Well,” he exclaimed, trying to come up with another barb. For some reason, Kitty felt light in her chest, like a balloon filled itself with air and pressed against her ribs, threatening to burst. She liked that feeling, foreign yet delightful. “ You give youngest child energy.”

Kitty leaned in. “That’s because I am. LJ doesn't call me a menace for nothing.”

His eyes narrowed. Kitty grinned: check mate. Sparring with Min-ho when they weren't trying to ruin each other's day was a lot more fun than she expected. 

“Aw, you guys are so cute!”

Pulling away, she turned around to find Madison cooing at their banter. Which was all it was: banter. Not flirting, not ‘cute’. 

The easy-going expression fell from Min-ho’s face. “We’re not cute, Madison.”

“I think you are,” she grinned. Her red hair looked stark against the royal blue uniform. “Drinking coffee together, matching each other's energy, flirting — I ship it.”

Her first instinct was to ask what the hell Madison was even doing here, when she remembered she attended this class as well. (Speaking of, they better get inside quickly before the second bell rang and they were locked out.) Her second instinct was to huff—Kitty was fed up. Like, couldn't Madison just keep her suggestive thoughts and backhanded compliments to herself? Wasn't calling her article ‘cute’ that she worked so hard on enough? 

Mustering all the Yuri Han snark Kitty has encountered over the years, she said: “Madison, can you like—not? You make people uncomfortable saying things like that. It’s not funny.”

The girl’s brows raised, unimpressed. “Jeez, I was just joking. It’s not that serious.” Without waiting for a reply, she waltzed inside the classroom. 

Kitty wanted to punch her. 

Min-ho placed a hand on her shoulder, sensing her anger. “It’s not worth it,” he mumbled. “She’s just a shōjo-obsessed white person.”

The second bell rang and the two stepped inside. Madison sat near the front, chatting with a peer like nothing happened, and it only amplified Kitty's annoyance. Min-ho led her to the back of the class, the furthest away he could get her from the girl. 

Stupid Madison and her stupid comments! As though girls and boys couldn't be friends! She saw them in the newsroom every week; she knew nothing was going on. The others, like Hinata and Haeyoon, were just relieved they weren't murdering each other anymore. They didn't make silly remarks. 

Grabbing her books, she willed herself to calm down. Raging while Ms. Baek taught nineteenth century trade routes felt very unnecessary. Beside her, Min-ho appeared calm. A hand raked his hair back—which had been growing quite a lot—to find respite from the growing humidity, while another traced the rim of his shirt. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, short lashes brushing his skin as he sought the right page in the handbook. Sunlight cast a golden glow on his skin. 

Kitty blinked and ripped her eyes off the boy, a flush rising up her neck and cheeks. What the hell? This was exactly why people shouldn’t make ‘flirting’ comments; now she started acting like it held merit. Just because Ryu Min-ho was handsome—in a very objective, conventional way—that didn’t mean she liked him, or that she found him attractive. If anything, she was probably jealous of his smooth skin and perfect sight.  

Her hands clenched around her book. Her type was someone like Dae: soft-spoken and sweet and sensitive and with sloping features. Min-ho’s sharp jaw did nothing for her. It was whatever. 

But all throughout the lesson, her eyes betrayed her each time they flitted to observe him; how he took notes, how he glanced at the ceiling while he thought of an answer, how his lips pursed when he made a mistake, or the way he raised his hand. He made it appear elegant, much to her dismay. If he didn’t want to go to university after K.I.S.S., he could just debut as a model if he wanted to. 

Annoyed by her own thoughts, she looked down at her notebook and realised she had barely taken any notes by the end of class. 

“Let’s go to karaoke tonight,” she blurted out the second Ms. Baek dismissed the class. 

A surprised Min-ho assessed her. “Is that what goes through your mind during a module about trade in the Tsushima strait?”

She huffed. “Yes. It’s Friday and we haven’t gone out with the entire group in a while.” Getting out of school and taking her mind off Min-ho—who would’ve thought she’d ever have an issue with that—would help her out. A sweet mocktail and fiery ballad with Yuri and Juliana would do the trick. 

Kitty sent the proposition into the group chat. The chat was, depressingly, mostly used for homework questions and complaining about Professor Lee, so they all instantly replied with enthusiasm. Even Dae, who spent all of his time studying or working, responded elated. Beside her, Min-ho joked she had to mentally prepare for the performance of a lifetime, as though he actually inherited the talents of his celebrity mother. Min-ho was no Park Seo-joon.

Regardless, the excitement of their plans pushed her through the last of her classes. After class got dismissed and the teacher wished them a great weekend, she all but ran to her dorm. Yuri and Juliana were already there, propped on the bathroom sink to freshen their make-up. 

Maybe it was a horrible thought, but Kitty was glad Eunice wasn’t part of the group chat. Eunice was a dear friend of the girls, but she didn’t quite mesh with the guys. Now that she seriously vied for Min-ho, it was best that they weren’t together right now. Things would get… really awkward. Besides, Kitty was pretty sure Eunice had dance rehearsals on Fridays. 

Opting for her favourite leather pants and a cute, cropped shirt, she joined the girls in the bathroom. Pop music played from Yuri’s speaker and they were drinking maesil-cha. Yuri lended her that darker lip tint again. Evenings like these always brightened her mood, from going to the arcade as a kid to karaoke-and-BBQ nights with her K.I.S.S. friends. Unlike the introverted LJ, Kitty thrived in such environments. 

Juliana loudly exhaled as she finished her eyeliner. “Eyeliner will never not be nerve-wracking. By the way, Kitty: great article! Yuri and I read it in one go.” 

“Thanks,” Kitty grinned, proud. “That means a lot.”

“What was it like, working with Min-ho?” Juliana eyed her sympathetically. “I once saw you guys slaving away in the library and, honestly, I felt sorry for you.”

“It was– it went fine,” she decided on. Throwing Min-ho under the bus for previous fights felt undeserving. “We had the same vision.”

“You and Min-ho having the same vision?” Yuri repeated, incredulous. “That sounds fake.”

“I know,” she laughed. “It’s weird, but we—” Halting herself, she assumed a more casual tone, reminded by what Eunice and Madison presumed about them. She shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

Juliana blinked. “Whatever?”

“Yeah… anyway—” She checked her phone, as though reading an awaiting text. “Q is asking if you guys wanna get BBQ before karaoke, so we’ll need to hurry.” Kitty cringed. Why did she lie about that? Juliana made a normal reaction and she had to get all weird about it. Madison and Eunice had seriously messed with her head. 

Yuri scoffed and returned to watch her reflection in the mirror. “Hurry? It’ll take at least an hour before your news partner is ready. Let’s get food after.” 

“Okay.” Kitty bit her lip, nervous, but then let go when she noted that the lip tint was still drying. It complimented her tanned skin and shirt, its burgundy colour in the same hue. Focusing on the music and the sweet smell of the plum tea, she shifted back into the nice atmosphere from before.  

As always, Yuri wore a trendy, pink ensemble, while Juliana had on a lacy top and baggy jeans. By the school gate, Q greeted Kitty in a breezy short-sleeved shirt, followed by Dae in his trusty denim jacket and Min-ho in a casual, dark green blazer and matching trousers. To her surprise, the last one that stepped out was Florian, looking quintessentially French.

Kitty withheld an excited gasp. Q invited him! If that wasn’t a serious move, then she didn’t know what was. Meeting Q’s eye, she shot him an inconspicuous wink, to which he rolled his eyes and mouthed at her to quit it. Whatever—Kitty wagered that the night would end successfully for the two boys. 

The group took the metro to the bustling streets of Hongdae. While the infamous nightclubs that littered the scene weren’t for them yet, the neighbourhood also held plenty of all-ages karaoke spots. Like always, they went to SPACE KARAOKE. Its exterior was a simple brick frontage that gave no idea of what went on inside. However, the establishment held over a dozen karaoke booths and gave generous discounts to students. For an hour, they all paid about ₩10,000. The booths were glitzy; dark yet illuminated by red and purple lights. Soft couches flanked the stage, adorned by pillows with pop culture characters emblazoned on them. The karaoke machine was updated weekly with new songs. 

The girls started with a classic Beyoncé song to get the group hyped, though Juliana and Kitty mostly served as back-up singers and dancers to the idol that was Yuri Han. In another life, she would be a legendary K-pop idol. Q whooped and cheered, while Dae hid his beaming smile behind a lemonade. This was what Kitty needed: just a silly night with her silly friends. 

Next, the boys took to the stage, though Florian stayed seated, eager to watch some more before he tried it himself. Kitty suspected, however, that he wanted to see Q sing and dance. They were already so cute! The boys crowded over the machine and discussed which song they wanted to perform.  

Kitty leaned into Florian. “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

Florian smiled. “It’s definitely… new, but I like it.”

“You’ve never done karaoke before?” she asked, surprised. If she remembered correctly, then Florian has been attending K.I.S.S. for longer than her. Living in Seoul didn’t mean one had to adhere to all the trends, but really? No karaoke, ever? 

He shrugged, bashful. “I… never had friends to do it with.”

“Oh.” Her lips pursed, embarrassed, but picked herself back up with a dazzling smile and a cheery tone. “Well, we go, like, every month, so now you can join us each time!”

It was then, when Florian’s face lit up with appreciation, that it clicked into place; he was Lonely Boy. She had almost forgotten about it, so much had happened since then, but the similarities in their stories were unmistakable. It had to be him. Her fingers curled around a pillow, a smidge of unease pricking her conscience. She has never met one of her anonymous messengers. Not knowingly, at least. Attaching a face to the words, to the desperation, she felt guilt for knowing his most intimate thoughts; his secrets. Did he know that she knew? Did he hope that she wouldn’t connect the dots? Should she tell Q? 

“Let’s give it up,” Q hollered into the chunky microphone, his voice bouncing off the insulated walls, “for the sub-par sub-unit of Seventeen: Min-ho, Dae and Q!”

The girls and Florian cheered. The first beats of the song blasted through the speakers and Kitty instantly knew which song it was— an equally horrifying and excitable revelation. They chose ‘Shhh’, arguably the most obvious thirst trap of the group. Yuri giggled behind her hand as she, too, realised what song was playing. 

A scarlet-cheeked Dae began the first verse, bashful to be included in such a song, and Kitty encouraged him with a hoot. Dae, aside from being a close friend of hers, would always hold a soft spot in her heart. Even if all feelings were gone, she’d always support him… or whoop as he sang suggestive lyrics.    

Min-ho and Q were a lot less fearful, the two jumping into the second part of the verse where the beat picked up, full of boyish bravado. Q’s Korean fumbled here and there, but Min-ho was right on beat, smooth and, to her surprise, in tune. Although they had done karaoke before, this was the first time she noticed he wasn’t a pretty decent singer. 

All three sang the chorus, with its lower bass and heavy beats, dancing along to the rhythm. Their eager audience danced with them in their seats. From the corner of her eye, she found Florian’s gaze latched onto Q. Kitty smirked. A match has been made. 

After the post-chorus, Min-ho took on the first part of the second verse. Kitty had a general idea about the content of the lyrics, and found herself drawn to the way Min-ho uttered the words with ease; how he sang about secrets, lies, and his heart. He was just vibing to the song—patting Dae’s back to ease his bashfulness—but Kitty couldn’t help but stick to him. Even when Q took over for the second part, she stayed on him. 

This was all because of Madison’s teasing, she knew that. It had to be it. There was no other reason for her eyes to glaze over as she lingered on his smile, or the way he laughed when Dae attempted the small rap part. That was why her heart picked up its pace when his index finger brushed past his lower lip. 

She snapped out of it when the chorus restarted and Juliana whistled. Her cheeks burned, hands clammy with quiet embarrassment, and she hoped no one had seen her ogling. But when she turned to look at Juliana, she found Yuri observing her with a curious smile.

The boys ended their performance with a dramatic bow, which caused the girls and Florian to jump up and give a standing ovation. The burning knowing of Yuri’s smile and the sudden glance of Min-ho sent her way prompted her to solely applaud Q and Dae. Yeah, Kitty was panicking. Her mind was failing her and nothing added up. Was her stupid brain equating iced Americanos with the need for a crush? She thought she left the brief yet intense crushes behind after she longed for Yuri because of a sexy dream. 

(Yuri didn’t know. Kitty would take that secret to the grave.) 

Kitty didn’t like him. If she did, she would know it for sure. Collecting her thoughts, her smile recharged to its regular beam as she beckoned Q for the next song. The night continued with a slew of K-pop, from Red Velvet (Juliana and Yuri, of course) to BTS (Dae, whose bias was V) to NCT (the entire group, as there were too many voices to count). Q even managed to get Florian to sing with him, the two covering a Super Junior song. Thoughts of Min-ho drifted away and all that remained was laughter and the sheens of sweat covering their foreheads.   

After their hour was up, the group stumbled out of the karaoke bar with flushed cheeks and giggles. Kitty was whispering to Q that Florian had been totally taken by his performances, when Yuri latched onto her arm and pulled her ahead of the group, just far enough so none could eavesdrop. At first, Kitty thought she wanted to gossip about one of the guys—maybe Florian, since he was new—but then belatedly realised she was being ambushed. 

“What was that?” she whispered. “Those looks you were giving Min-ho.”

“I wasn’t giving looks ,” she protested, glad the night obscured her nerves. “I was looking . There’s a difference.”

“There is,” she agreed, “but you weren’t just looking. Do you… like him?”

Kitty groaned. Really? Yuri, too? “No, I don’t. Min-ho and I have just… revolved our differences, or whatever. We’re friends now. You should be happy about that. No more fighting!”

Despite the later hour, Hongdae was still alive with partygoers and businesspeople eating out. On the way back, they were hoping to pass by a convenience store for a night snack and then hop on the first metro to school. If they were back by midnight, they wouldn’t be in trouble. 

“Girl,” Yuri deadpanned with that typical frankness she possessed. “Min-ho hasn’t hated you for, like, a year. Remember? He was sad when you weren’t sure if you were staying.”

Kitty flailed. “Well, yeah, hate is a big word, but—”

“No, Kitty. I mean that he probably likes you.” There were no varying interpretations with what she meant with ‘like’, her tone obvious and face suggestive. There was no way, however, that Min-ho liked her. That simply wouldn’t make sense. 

A forced laugh left her lips. “That– no. Min-ho…” Her voice quieted, scared her words would carry to the group a couple feet behind them. “Min-ho would never like me: I’m not his type, we’re always bickering, I’m a foreigner.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why are you being so dramatic? People don’t choose who they crush on. You’re hot and fun and smart. Why wouldn’t he like you?” And then she added, mischievous: “Why wouldn’t you like him?”

“Because—” Kitty was stumped. Yuri’s logic checked out. Still, just because they shared commonalities and just because he bought her drinks, that didn’t mean he liked her or that she ought to like him. Other stuff, like attraction—something so intangible and unexplainable—mattered as well. She huffed. “Because we just don’t.”

Yuri shrugged, clearly not believing her. “Okay.”

Kitty frowned. “Last year, you’d be super mad if I were to date someone like Min-ho. You think he’s annoying.”

“Sometimes,” Yuri pressed, as though the distinction made a difference. “And that was before I saw the way he acts around you.”

“Like a mortal enemy?”

“Like he cares,” she said, no humour in her tone. “A lot.”

Kitty thought about their tteokbokki hang-out, the countless Americanos and the peach sodas, the can on her desk, his chuckles when she jumped and cheered, the pats on her head and shoulders, how he remembered big and little things, the way he volleyed barbs with her on an Olympic level. All the traits for a perfect best friend.

And yet. 

Her eyes casted down to the pavement. And yet it seemed like more to everyone. The girls kept walking quietly, listening to the passersby’s chatter and the chortles of Q after Florian told a not-so-funny joke. After a while, Dae pointed out a lit-up 7/11 and the group piled inside.

Behind the register, a tired part-timer watched them bustle around the aisles. They were stacked with chips, candy and sandwiches, while the refrigerated parts stocked samgak kimbap , ice cream and drinks. In the back, a coffee machine and microwave held a small queue. The A/C cooled down Kitty’s cheeks, allowing the girl to take a breath and force herself to appear normal. Not at all like Yuri just ruined her plans to divert her thoughts from Min-ho. 

Unfortunately, Min-ho didn’t get the memo either. They hadn’t really talked tonight, so she should’ve expected his frame to pop up beside her as she eyed the kimbap. Everything was in Korean, so she was left grasping the few words she understood.       

“You and Q’s rendition of ‘MY BAG’ was… something,” he teased. “It was like seeing a pug trying to act tough.”

Her brows raised. This was precisely why Yuri’s accusations were false. “Are you comparing me to a pug?”

Min-ho paused. “It was a figure of speech.”

“Sure.”

“That one has mayo,” he continued, pointing at the package she was looking at. He told her, because he knew she didn’t like mayo, even though she never directly informed him. Her lips pursed, shy, as she grabbed another type off the shelf. This one contained minced beef. “Are you wearing a different lip tint?”

The question slammed Kitty out of her reverie, eyes shooting up to meet him in shock. “What?”

“You’re wearing something different, right?” he asked, his face betraying nothing. Even under the ugly, fluorescent lights, he appeared cool. “It’s darker.”

“I– yeah.” Kitty stammered. “What… how do you even notice that?”

“You wore it a couple of weeks ago and you’re wearing it again,” he explained, matter-of-fact. Now, however, a sliver of uncertainty crept into his expression. “I figured… you are wearing it for special occasions?”

She laughed. “To what? Kiss boys? I have a lot of luck in that department.” The only boy she has ever kissed was Dae, once, and look how that turned out. For some reason, she didn’t have the guts to tell Yuri just pushed it onto her. She wondered, quietly, what he thought of it. Her mind whispering to tug on the thread between them, intangible yet there, one she normally refused to acknowledge otherwise—to herself or others.  

Min-ho smirked. “Maybe you will with that lip tint.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I really am not.”

Pausing, she appraised him with suspicion. He was being too nice, too close, too much. Still, there was no way he liked her. To verify her claim, she leaned into him slightly and replied, smiling, “Where’s your lip tint, huh? With that performance of ‘Shhh’, you could debut as the newest member of Seventeen.”

Min-ho rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Kitty.”

“It’s true. I was looking at you.” She crossed her arms, daring to keep her gaze steady. “You were good.” 

“And that means… I have to start kissing girls?” His head tilted, bemused, and Kitty realised she was entering dangerous territory. But if she tapped out now, she’d lose. (What exactly she’d lose, she didn’t know.)   

Kitty snorted. “You need to be good at kissing to do that.”

His jaw fell slack, aghast, and he took a step closer; so close she had to lean back to keep his eye. “I’ll have you know I’m a great kisser.”

Without thinking, she blurted: “I’m a better kisser than you, for sure.”

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged, leaning in until they were mere breaths apart. Kitty froze. Min-ho’s languid smirk crawled up his lips, gaze flickering across her face like viewing something decadent, delicate—like it was his. “Want to prove me wrong?”   

For a moment, time stood still. Kitty didn’t know whether she heard her heart beating of her chest, or his, as they were so close they could kiss. They could kiss. Involuntarily, her eyes flitted to his mouth at the thought. Even without a lip tint, they looked soft and smooth and oh my God, what was she thinking?!  

This was crazy.

With a breathy chuckle, her gaze averted and she took a step back, effectively breaking the tension and dissolving the moment. The lump in her throat stayed, however, as well as her rapid heart. If she were to try and walk right now, he’d catch her unsteady feet. 

“Um, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, also not looking at her. “I didn’t mean to– to startle you.”

“It’s fine,” she rushed, nervously tucking hair behind her ears. She got what she wanted; she verified her suspicion and it was correct. It was all a game, nothing more. 

Wordlessly, Min-ho grabbed a samgak kimbap and left her alone in the aisle. A long exhale left her, after which she covered her mouth with her hands, scared to be caught feeling so… frazzled . Yuri thought Min-ho cared for her, but this just showed he loved to tease her. That wasn’t how boys cared for girls. (Maybe in elementary school, but they were long past that.) They were what they always were: bantering friends that sometimes took it too far. Settled, she straightened her back and checked her reflection of the glass door. Normal enough. A couple seconds later, she followed the group to the register, but neither Min-ho or her said anything, letting the others’ words roll over them.

That night, she laid in bed, awake and restless. Despite her previous settlement, thoughts of Min-ho kept plaguing her mind. Eunice only sleeping six feet next to her made it worse, her conscience dragged down by guilt. What kind of friend was she, fantasising about Eunice’s crush at night?      

Maybe because he hadn’t looked nor spoken to her on the subway ride home. Min-ho had focused on Dae’s story, had laughed at Juliana’s jokes, but not once did he spare her a glance. When they had arrived on campus, only Dae, Q and Florian bid the girls goodbye. Min-ho had walked away first, hands in his pockets and chin turned down. 

Kitty’s stubborn attitude refused to believe she did that to him. It couldn’t be. Huffing and shifting in bed, her palms pressed into her burning eyes, willing them to rest so she could sleep. Stupid Min-ho and his stupid lips and his stupid teasing and his stupid questions about her lip tint. She would never wear that shade again; it was cursed. Her fingers brushed her mouth. With exhaustion pulling at her limbs, her traitorous mind wandered what would have happened had she kissed him—had he kissed her—and what it would have felt like. If he was really as good of a kisser as he claimed. 

Another groan left her. Stop! Thinking! Smashing her pillow in her face, Kitty concluded that suffocating herself would be better than pondering one more second about Min-ho in any other way that wasn’t friendly. 

It was early in the morning before she finally fell asleep. 

A couple days later, Alex beckoned Min-ho and Kitty to stay in the newsroom after the weekly meeting. They hadn’t talked much since The Kimbap Incident. A study session in the library alongside Dae and Yuri couldn’t be called a friendly hang-out, as their words were secluded to speaking of calculus and Korean literature. He did buy her coffee though. That was something. She just hoped they could return to the friendship they had carefully built. It would be a shame if it shattered before it properly began. 

She’d be lying to herself if she claimed it wouldn’t seriously hurt her.  Now, standing next to him, she felt tension lingering in his shoulders and the way he refused to address her. His hands were stuffed in his trousers. 

Alex smiled. “I have great news! Your articles are in the running to be part of the Seoul Academic Youth Magazine !” 

Kitty gasped. “Seriously?! That’s awesome!”

Min-ho’s icy exterior broke as well, a grin growing onto his face. “Really?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But I’m not surprised. You two worked really hard on it.”

“Thank you,” Kitty said, practically buzzing with glee at this point. Finally! Some good news! 

The professor’s smile strained a little, adding: “There’s a catch though. You’ll probably know this already, Min-ho, but you’ll have to rewrite your articles in Korean. They publish the magazine in both English and Korean.”

Oh. Great. Of course, Kitty had to suffer some more. Her Korean has been steadily improving, but she still lacked the skills to write a full Korean paper, or in this regard: a news article. If they gave her a tight deadline, there was no way she’d finish it in time with the perfection that she required of herself. If she submitted something sloppy, only Min-ho’s would be selected. Or worse: his wouldn’t either since they were considered accompanying pieces. Suddenly, she understood why Min-ho didn’t want to share the spotlight. 

Kitty felt sick. Maybe she should’ve taken her halmeoni up on those Korean lessons when she had the chance.

“I’ll do it for Kitty and me then,” Min-ho said, taking Alex and Kitty by surprise.

“Huh?” she sputtered. “What? No. I can’t let you do that.”

He faced her with a frown. “Your Korean isn’t good enough yet. Let me do this.”

“And submit something that isn’t mine anymore?” she scoffed. “I– I appreciate the offer, but no. I’m doing this myself.” Addressing Alex, she asked: “When’s the deadline?”

He grimaced. “Next week.”

“Great.” Fixing a beam on her face that Koreans considered ‘overly American’, she clapped her hands and marched out the door. “No time to lose then!”

Min-ho followed her into the hallway, matching her powerful stride with ease. “Kitty—”

“What?”

The boy tried meeting her eye. “Is everything all right?” 

She laughed, too harsh and too much. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Because you—” Reaching out, he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to stop. His eyes pierced through hers, concerned. He was too much. “You need to take a breath.”

“I’m fine ,” she muttered. Shrugging him off, she added: “I just need to figure out how to become a native speaker by next Tuesday.”

His lips dared to curl into an amused expression, only frustrating her more. “Contrary to what Americans may believe, you can’t do everything.”

Maybe not, but after the Friday she experienced, she needed something to latch onto and excel at. Not understanding Min-ho was driving her crazy, but Korean? There were rules, grammar and spelling—that she could understand. Dae would probably tutor her, if she asked nicely. She had to try. Maybe conquering the language would finally quiet her mind about Min-ho. 

But when she pondered aloud about asking Dae, Min-ho shut it down in a snap. “No,” he rushed, “he– I’ll help you. They’re our articles.”

Kitty wanted to argue, but wouldn’t she go against her own point then? If Dae helped, then an outsider opinion would bleed into her writing, regardless of if she comprehended Korean or not. And so, she complied—begrudgingly. 

Over the next couple of days, Kitty and Min-ho split their time between school, the newspaper, translating the selected articles, and Korean tutoring. Just when Kitty thought she could catch up on sleep after the stress of the 4B-article, she had to do it all over again. From morning ‘till night, the girl stayed cooped in the library. 

Min-ho—surprisingly apt at tutoring—taught her Korean that aided their work, alternating between grammar and spelling exercises and journalistic jargon. Vocabulary lists about love, relationships and feminism filled her notes app. While she drank her morning coffee, she went over the words; during lunch, she had Q test her on the grammar. An outsider would think Kitty was preparing for an exam. 

It was hard translating Yun-jin’s words and tone into a different language, but she admittedly found it a fun challenge once she got the hang of it. Especially late at night, when it was just Min-ho and her in the library, she allowed herself to get excited and show off her progress. Like always, the pendulum swung back from cold, snippy comments to coffees and peach sodas and kind words. 

On their second evening of slaving away in the library, Min-ho surprised her when he closed the Korean textbook her eyes were glued to and proposed they needed some fresh air. Kitty had refused first, but he had ignored her and walked out of the library without pause. Looking silly in their sweats walking the dark streets of Seodaemun-gu, they eventually ended up at a spicy tteokbokki stall a couple blocks from school. Bright lights illuminated the simmering pots of rice cakes and gochujang, the sweat on the cook’s forehead, her worn hands hidden by latex gloves.  

They bought two paper plates filled with the sticky deliciousness and sauntered down to a playground opposite of the stall. They sat on the swings and talked about nothing and everything that night; the girl unable to recall a particular subject, only remembering that she felt warm and safe and happy. Happy, because she could call Min-ho her friend, and happy that things hadn’t gone sour after the 7/11 mishap. His smile, hidden by darkness and only seen by her, stayed etched in her mind. 

Two days before the deadline, when he was in a particularly good mood, she carefully broached the subject that had been lingering at the back of her mind. She owed it to Eunice to fulfil her promise. “Hey, Min-ho… what do you think of Eunice?”

The boy looked up from his laptop, pulling a face. “You told me before that she liked me, but I don’t. So… I try to keep my distance. That seems the most fair to her.”

Oh, shit. Kitty withheld a grimace, already imagining Eunice’s crestfallen expression once she broke the news. She wasn’t surprised, but she hated seeing Eunice upset. “Wouldn’t you want to get to know her better?”

“I do know her,” he said, dry, “and I’m not interested. She’s a cute girl, but that’s all.”

Hearing those words come from a guy’s mouth when girls always speculated what they thought, unnerved Kitty. Eunice was so much more than just ‘a cute girl’, yet Min-ho reduced her to just that. It wasn’t wrong, per say, but it made her wonder how he labelled her in front of other people. His newspaper partner? His friend? The loud American? 

Also, calling Eunice cute didn’t mean he was indifferent about her. Honestly, it meant anything but! It meant he barely had a border to cross before he found her more than cute! He could, possibly, date her still. 

Her mind spun a fantasy of Eunice and Min-ho together, two beauties striding side by side on campus, with their glossy dark hair and perfectly shaped faces. Eunice and Min-ho studying together, Eunice and Min-ho hanging out together—Min-ho distancing himself from the group—and posting about it on their socials. It kept spiralling deeper: Min-ho buying Eunice coffee and soda and food. Min-ho smiling at Eunice. Min-ho leaning into Eunice and asking if she wanted to prove him wrong. 

Kitty paused. Horror slowly descended upon her, fingers freezing on her keyboard as she stared in shock at the blinking cursor.

Oh my God… Kitty liked Min-ho! 

Abruptly, Kitty stood up, her seat screeched back, and she excused herself to the restroom. Without waiting for a reply—or worse: catching his expression—she all but ran to the restroom. Kitty felt manic. Pacing along the line of sinks, she shook her head. 

“No, no, no,” she mumbled, “this is embarrassing.” She told everyone that asked that she wasn’t interested, yet now, like a fool, she belatedly realised what they all saw. For a matchmaker, she sucked at noticing the signs when it came to her own relationships. She hadn’t suspected the looming end of Dae and her, she hadn’t expected the quick yet intense crush on Yuri, and she didn’t realise she was falling for her rival-turned-friend, Ryu Min-ho. 

How could she have known? A crush like that never happened to her before. There was something troubling about it, liking someone that used to make her feel like shit. She wanted to say that her feelings were simply mixed with those of Eunice’s, that she felt what her friend was feeling, but she knew that was wrong. Once her heart was made aware, there was no turning back. Kitty liked Min-ho. She was just as certain of it as the sky was blue and grass was green.

A silly smile involuntarily bloomed on her lips. A gentle warmth, quite like a hearth, burned in her stomach. Now that she knew, she reassessed each moment with Min-ho in a new light and wondered. Like his fingers that had hooked into her hair, slowly raking and rubbing—that was more than a friendly gesture, right? 

Kitty sighed and shook her head. Focus. Article first, crush later. Walking out of the restroom, she peeked into the library and found Min-ho just working on his assignment. Unlike her, he didn't have stupid midnight revelations. Her gaze trailed along his typing fingers, his elegant neck, pouty lips, and soft head of hair. 

Min-ho looked up, expectant, “Everything okay?” 

Kitty smiled. Article first, crush later. “Yeah. So, about the next paragraph…” 

Chapter Text

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY KNEW?” Kitty exclaimed, shocked to find that her confession to liking Min-ho left Q unfazed.   

Wherever Kitty was, Min-ho somehow appeared, too, so the anxious girl had found a way to drag Q out to the bleachers by the soccer field—a place their friends never went to—to spill her guts. It was only the morning after her revelation, but she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. She told him everything. From their fight during the first joined interview, to his teasing and how he called her Covey, to their second interview and how he called her empathetic, to their almost-kiss after karaoke, ending with their nightly tteokbokki run and the fiery jealousy she felt at thought of Eunice and Min-ho together. 

Q’s expression stayed neutral all throughout her rant, nodding and humming every so often. When he said he had an inkling weeks prior about her true feelings, he patted her leg sympathetically. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, Kitty. That’s a good thing… but that doesn’t make you subtle.”

She groaned. “I know…”

“What are you planning to do about this?”

“I don’t know,” the girl sighed, placing her head on her hands. “I just figured it out. I don’t want to rush into things and, like, what if he doesn’t like me like that at all?”

Quincy blinked, dubious. “Didn’t you say you two almost kissed?”

“Yeah! But—” She blushed. Ack! That almost-kiss! It replayed in her head like a romantic k-drama, with glitter and bokeh and flowers in the background while they moved in slow motion. “But that doesn’t count! It wasn’t real! We were– we were playing!”

“Flirting,” Q corrected, amused. “You were flirting. Hardcore. Good job, by the way.”

Hardcore! Kitty never heard that word associated with her. She was bubbly and energetic and smart, not hardcore, especially when it came to flirting. Bumbling her way through her situationship with Dae and then failing before the finish line was proof of that. 

Suddenly, a familiar voice chimed up right underneath the bleachers. “당신이 ‘러버보이’죠?” It was Yuri. She spoke at her usual languid pace, so Kitty, though it was wrong to eavesdrop, knew what she said. Once the words slotted into the right translation in her head, Kitty froze. No way. 

In that moment, she realised speed-running through her Korean lessons was a terrible mistake. These words weren’t meant for her. Her mouth opened to make her presence known, but a wide-eyed Q placed a finger on her lips. It seemed like he caught on as well. Frowning, she was about to ask what he was doing, when the second person beneath the bleachers spoke.  

A boy’s voice grumbled, his shoes scuffing against the grinded pebbles. “도대체 무슨 소리야?”

Kitty and Q locked eyes, stunned. No fucking way. Yuri was talking to Min-ho, asking him if he was the person behind ‘Lover Boy’, the infamous messenger from her column. Swatting Q’s finger away, she willed herself to be as quiet as possible. Seeing where they held a conversation, away from everyone, then they must’ve intended for this to be private and in secret. But Q and Kitty couldn’t leave now, lest they be caught. 

Yuri chuckled. “거짓말 하지마, 민호. 알아야겠어. 너냐?” And then, before he replied, she added in a breezy, playful tone: “그리고 너는 키티를 사랑하고 있어!”

Holy. Shit. Q started silently screaming, while Kitty sat there, speechless, allowing the words to sink in; to curl into her chest as Yuri had said it with conviction, with certainty. But it couldn’t be—it was too convenient. Love ought to be messy and a whirlwind of fairytale emotions. Forcing someone to admit their infatuation didn’t happen in ‘Cinderella’, in all the matchmaking that Kitty had done. It had to be false.   

Min-ho sounded as if he stomped towards Yuri, angry. “닥쳐! 모두가 이 말을 들을 필요는 없어!”

Yuri laughed. “키티처럼?”

“예를 들어.”

For a moment, neither spoke. Kitty swallowed, afraid they were about to bust them, as her heartbeat felt too loud in her ears and she worried they could hear it. But then Yuri gently proposed: “네가 그녀에게 고백해야 할 것 같아.”

With a deadpan, he replied: “차라리 다리에서 뛰어내리는 게 나을 것 같아.”

“매우 재미있다.”

Min-ho sighed and switched to English. “She doesn’t like me, Yuri. I can tell.”

“A no is a no. A yes you can get. Come on—” Their voices started fading, their feet crunching beneath the ground, and slowly their chat drifted out of earshot. 

Kitty couldn’t think. She hadn’t even settled into her feelings and they dropped this bomb on her. Indirectly, but she felt herself reeling from the impact. For some reason, she deemed it more important than when she and Dae were trying to be together. Dae and her have known each other since they were twelve, but Min-ho’s words now meant more.  

Q let out a deep breath. “Holy. Shit.”

“I didn’t misinterpret that, did I?” she whispered. 

“Nope,” Q said. An incredulous grin grew on his face. “Min-ho is ‘Lover Boy’. Min-ho is in love with you.”

“This is crazy.” She stood up and started pacing along the line of seats. “Like, I know you said we were ‘hardcore’ flirting, or whatever, but, like, why is it all coming together now? Isn’t that weird?”

“It’s not weird,” Q replied, sober. “I think you’re scared.”

Said the boy who freaked out when Kitty pushed the idea of him and Florian together! And look how that turned out! They were friends and on their way to becoming more. Anyone would be scared if the excitement of a crush suddenly became clear and in high definition, no longer a fantasy but an achievable, real thing. Kitty never pondered on the idea of Min-ho liking her, simply because it never felt like an option. Before, he liked tall, Korean girls. Now, he liked… her? It sounded fake. 

“Because I don’t think he’s thinking it through,” she argued, arms flailing in the air. “I think he’s confusing our close proximity with attraction and—”

“Kitty, what I’m about to say, you can’t tell him, because he’ll kill me for it,” Q cut in, his expression grave yet mischievous. “But I’ve been teasing him about being into cats since last year.”

She frowned. “What?”

“Your nickname is Kitty, like a cat.” He laughed. “Kitty, he’s basically been into you since you arrived. He hates when I tease him about it, because Dae doesn’t know.”

Belatedly, she realised what this all meant: Dae, Eunice, every girl that was ever into him. If they actually became something, wouldn’t they be hurting a lot of people? Sure, Dae and Mi-hee were sort of seeing each other, but it wasn’t official yet and she could imagine the hurt Dae would feel when he figured out his best friend had been having feelings for the girl he once pined for. That probably went against some Bro Code, or whatever. 

Conversely, how would Eunice react? If Min-ho and her started dating — which still felt… inconceivable — then the girl would never talk to her again; her own roommate! Kitty felt sick just thinking about it. 

Kitty swatted Q’s arm. “Why did you not tell me this sooner?!”

“‘Cause it’s not my shit to tell!” he exclaimed, still chuckling. “Like you would’ve believed me, anyway.”

Sitting down, Kitty took a deep breath. “Okay… okay. Fair. What should I do now?” 

Q’s grin faded to a gentle smile. “Tell him how you feel. He won’t be disappointed, that’s for sure.”

“C-confess?” Last time she did that, the boy she had loved for years ended up breaking her heart and easing her mind all at once, saying what the both of them were thinking: that their relationship worked best through a phone screen and that real life didn’t match up to their expectations. Confessing again just a year later to someone different, to Dae’s best friend no less… 

Gah! Why did everything need to be so difficult? Why did her life change so fast to the point that she couldn’t catch her breath? In that moment, she yearned for the slowness and ordinary times of Oregon.  

She ought to take this one step at a time. Which meant she had to start with the most difficult task: explaining to Eunice what was going on. Kitty cringed. Just last week she had promised the girl to heaven and hell that she didn’t have a crush on Min-ho. God, this was embarrassing. 

“Fine,” she relented. “But if I’m confessing, then you better do something about your situationship as well.”

Q’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. Then we’ll both go through the trenches, I guess.”

They shook hands on it, the bell rang, and their nightmarish day continued. 

It was probably clear something was off about Kitty. In her morning classes, she avoided sitting next to Min-ho, and if that was impossible, she spoke as little as possible to him. Afraid that he could somehow tell she had eavesdropped, was an understatement. Her stomach was in knots the entire time. Fortunately, her afternoon classes — economics and drama — were without him. It was all in vain, however, as they had already planned a final revision session for the articles in the library that evening. Her fate was inevitable. 

Min-ho would probably be in a pissy mood, too, given her lack of attention. Suddenly, all the signs were as clear as day. Of course, he liked her. Perhaps she lacked subtlety, but he wasn’t any better either: that boy spent a ton of money on coffee and soda for her. 

And now she had to tell Eunice that. Aware drama and dance ended around the same time, she waited for Eunice outside of the gym. Her foot tapped against the grass, nervous, and her hands felt clammy. In the distance, she saw the boys at P.E. playing soccer and she knew one of them, donned in a blue mesh jersey, was Min-ho. 

The door of the gym swung open and girls walked out, chattering and oblivious to her presence. At last, Eunice appeared and closed the door behind her. Her long dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail, gym shirt and spandex shorts worn like it was made for her. A jealous thought warred for attention, but Kitty shook it off. 

Min-ho liked her, of all the girls, and she just had to accept that. There would be someone else for Eunice. (Or she’d realise she didn’t want anyone at all, Kitty reminded herself, all too conscious of Yun-jin’s influence.) Waving at the girl to grab her attention, Eunice waved back and jogged towards her. 

“Hey, Kitty,” she grinned. “What’s up?”

Guilt clawed at her throat as she mustered a smile. “I… I need to tell you something.”

Eunice frowned. “Is everything okay?”

Wordlessly, Kitty wrung her hands together and willed herself to look at Eunice in the eye. She deserved that much. Worry grew on Eunice’s features, about to repeat her question, when Kitty uttered: “When you asked if I liked Min-ho last week, I didn't know then, but… I do.” She took a shaky breath. “I like him. A lot. And you deserve to know that.” 

The girl’s face turned crestfallen, the hand that had wanted to comfort Kitty falling to her side. “Oh… I see…”

“I’m so sorry, Eunice,” she rushed. “I didn’t know. Honest! I– I was just– if I had known when you first asked me, I would’ve told you.” Kitty groaned and placed her head in her hands. “I understand if you don’t want to speak to me right now.”

For a beat, it was quiet. Peeking through her fingers, she found Eunice just staring at her, pondering, not at all the reaction that Kitty expected. When Hyein and her had fought over the boy, she had cried in her arms all evening. She’s never seen her so still. 

“Does… does he like you?” she eventually asked. 

“I think so.” She didn’t have the guts to tell her about the secret bleachers conversation. That would just be cruel. 

Eunice slowly nodded, her teeth biting in her bottom lip—to keep her from yelling or crying, Kitty didn’t know. Then, a long and laboured sigh. Eunice tucked her hair behind her ears. “It’s okay, Kitty. I don’t hate you.”

Her eyes widened. “You– you don’t?”

“I’m sad,” she added, something Kitty wholly understood. Honestly, she believed she deserved a slap in the face; it was very much warranted. “But if you guys really like each other, then… then I can’t stop you from doing something about it.” A wry smile ticked up her lips. “Just don’t do anything funny in our dorm, okay?”

A relieved cry left Kitty as she jumped into Eunice’s arms. “You’re too good for this world, unnie !”

Eunice laughed despite herself, awkwardly patting Kitty’s back. “ Unnie ? Since when are you using that?”

“Since I got better at Korean,” Kitty chuckled as she pulled away a little, her eyes watery. “You’re older, so.”

“Like a month older,” she giggled. Somehow, the tension diffused to nothing. Kitty was under no illusion that it would take a while for Eunice to fully accept it — if Min-ho and Kitty were to become something — but this felt like a good sign. They still laughed together. “민호가 한국어 도와줬어?”

“응,” Kitty replied, shy. 

“As I said, Kitty,” she sighed, her head tilted to the bright hot sky. She looked angelic. “You don’t choose who you fall for.”

That evening, Min-ho waited for her outside of the library. Despite the soda in his hand, an annoyed look etched his face not unlike the ones he wore before their collaborations. Awkward and with a rapidly beating heart, Kitty approached him. 

“Have I done something?” he asked, no greeting necessary.

Kitty played dumb, chickening out of confessing right then and there. “What? What do you mean?”

His eyes narrowed. “So, nothing’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she repeated with a firm nod. Then, she grabbed her soda and patted his arm. “Come on, let’s finish and submit our pieces.”

Quietly, Min-ho followed behind her into the library, the space filled with students making coursework or studying for tests. It was no place for a confession of any kind. Someone would hear and an hour later their entire year would know. Whatever—they had a more important task at hand: their articles. Tomorrow morning was the deadline. If they did well, maybe they had a chance at getting published in the revered youth magazine. 

They sat at a table in the back and opened their laptops. The tense energy stayed between them, so strung out that one word would make either snap and do something reckless. (Like confess. Or worse: kiss him.) Her dreams had already played out such situations. After her revelation last week, she had a vivid dream of making out with Min-ho in the library, hidden by the aisles and the thousands of books. His hand on her waist and neck, hers in his hair; a dream too scandalous to be having with Eunice mere feet away. 

Her eyes trailed to his hair, looking awfully soft and shiny. Pulling her hands off the keyboard, she placed them on her lap, afraid of reacting to her impulses. 

“It’s best we read our own work a couple times through and then read and edit for each other,” Min-ho suggested, appearing calmer than before. “Are you okay with that?”

Kitty smiled and hummed. His eyes flickered to her lips and her mind went blank for a sec. “L-let’s do that.”

If she had to explain to an outsider what she felt during their session, she wouldn’t know how to do that. Everything just seemed heightened, like the hair standing up on someone’s arm as they trailed higher and higher up on a rollercoaster, or how her laugh sounded too harsh and loud in her ears, even though it was soft in real life. An agonising routine of checking if he was watching her and then pretending when she knew that he was actually watching her and how she then felt bashful feeling watched—or rather: being admired. 

She felt hot and she felt a thrill each time their knees accidentally bumped and she felt stupid and silly and happy and nervous and exasperated. And Kitty couldn’t believe how she hadn’t noticed it until now. 

Min-ho’s piece was good, she found when they swapped articles. The Korean version had a more lyrical quality to it, the sentences flowing and less truncated. It was a different side to Min-ho; his English curt, his Korean rather romantic in prose. Maybe that was why he never translated what he said in Korean. She barely made any edits. Honestly, she was just happy she understood the entire article and needed no help; that hopefully meant she went up a level on the ILR scale. 

He, however, returned her article with a lot of feedback added to the margins. Her lips pursed. Well then. It seemed like she had some work to do. 

One by one, students filtered out of the library with their work done. Stubborn study groups stayed until after midnight, while others gave up and went to get food from the convenience store a block away from the school. As Kitty reworked her article, Min-ho got them kimbap and Milkis from a vending machine. By the time she allowed herself to look up from her screen and rest her tired eyes, more than half had left. Quietude descended onto the room. 

Min-ho slid the food and the milky drink in front of her. “Did you eat enough during dinner?” he asked. “I think the people in Busan can hear your stomach as well.”

“Are you that concerned about my bowel movements, Min-ho?” she teased, tearing off the plastic wrapping from the kimbap. “That’s weird.”

He rolled his eyes, but a smile clung to his mouth. The crackling energy of before seemed to have faded. Taking a sip from his drink, he said: “I saw you today, outside of the gym.”

Kitty paused for a beat. He saw her. Had he seen her sitting on the bleachers, too? Had he seen the sliver of her sneakers through the cracks as he spilled his guts to Yuri? “Yeah,” she replied, unable to look him in the eye. “I was talking to Eunice.”

“About me, I reckon?” He joked, his tone light and easy, but all Kitty could do was awkwardly laugh along. “You’re not setting us up, right?”

“No, no,” she rushed. “We weren’t– no. It wasn’t about that.”

“Good.” She waited for him to add onto that, but instead, he leaned towards her laptop and nodded at the document. “Was my feedback clear?”

Has Kitty been absolutely delusional the past twelve hours? Min-ho had confessed to Yuri he had feelings for Kitty! Then again, he also said he’d rather jump off a bridge than admit it to her. Was that it? Was that the reason he was relieved — Good. — she didn’t try and matchmake Eunice and him, yet didn’t clarify why? For a boy so popular and confident, he sure didn’t have the guts to tell her. 

“No,” she bit, taking him by surprise. His chin turned towards her, awfully close to her face, and she found herself wavering. But then, in a surge of bravery, she continued: “You’re not being clear.”

Min-ho frowned. “Huh?”

“Why is it good that I’m not setting up you and Eunice? Eunice is wonderful!” Kitty knew she was going overboard, but hey, Q and Kitty swore to suffer today, so she was suffering—if only for the plot. And damn it, she had zero patience. Kitty Time, it was! 

The boy groaned, raking a hand through his hair. “This again? I told you, I’m just not interested in her.”

“But why?” she pressed. “She’s beautiful and smart and an amazing dancer and—”

“She’s not—!” He stopped himself, stared at her for a second, and then stood up. Aghast, Kitty watched as the chair screeched back and he strode out of the library, not uttering another word. Gah! Such a dramatic boy! 

Annoyed, she followed him outside. He really ought to work on his emotions; running away like that was not cute. Kitty chose to ignore that she did the exact same thing a couple of days ago, but that was different. He was already aware of his emotions. The boy stood under the awning of the library. 

“What the hell,” she exclaimed. “What was that?”

Whirling to face her, he pointed at her and spit: “It’s you that’s not being clear!”  

Kitty baulked. “Excuse me?”

“I thought I was clear that I didn’t like Eunice,” he said. “And now you’re just bringing it up again.”

“Because you said ‘good’ and changed the subject!” Moving closer, she swatted his finger away and asked, “And I’m always clear!”

Min-ho scoffed, incredulous. “Kitty, please, you’re anything but. You think I don’t notice when you ignore me? You avoided me all day.”

“Because you—” Her fists balled. He had to confess first, damn it! “Because sometimes you give me too much attention!”

It wasn’t untrue. Sometimes he gave her so much attention she felt that she could burst from the warmth building beneath her ribs. Min-ho cared for her so much it became unbearable whenever he so much as glanced at her today. 

His eyes practically bulged out of their sockets at the words. “Too much? Where does that come from? Is Madison getting to you?”

Another excuse he lunged at her. Madison. Madison and her stupid comments about their closeness and how they acted like a couple. That girl had been right, yet Min-ho acted like her suspicions were unfounded. It only angered her more. 

“She’s not,” she gritted. Leaning closer, she assessed his expression; confused yet drawn in altogether by her words. “Or should I let it get to me? Should I care that we seem like a couple?”

“Kitty—”

“Because you only talk to me, right?” Kitty parroted his phrases, the meanings of which she has dodged for far too long. “You only hang out with me and buy me food.”

Min-ho hesitated. His cheeks were flushed from the humid air and his hair stood in all directions from his hands going through it. Kitty yearned to card through it again. “No…” he whispered. “You shouldn’t let it get to you.”

That did it. Frustrated, Kitty stomped her foot on the ground and got even closer to his face. He didn’t back away. His shadow loomed over her, his cologne tickled her nose. He was so close they could kiss. “So, what is it then?! If you don’t like Eunice, if I should ignore Madison, do you like someone else?”

A challenged Min-ho tilted his head, not unlike their moment in the convenience store. “What if I do?”

Her heart thundered in her chest. If he paid attention, he’d hear it leap out. “Then that sucks. I stopped matchmaking for other people.”

The puzzle pieces began slotting in his head, she saw, and for once it felt like they both understood what the other knew. However, his head shook in refusal. His shaky breath fanned her cheeks. “Kitty… you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” she whispered. “And you don’t hate me.”

“I…” 

Her hand grasped the end of his long-sleeve shirt. “Just be clear with me, Min-ho.”

His gaze casted to the ground, stunned, and to Kitty, time suspended in that moment. No one was coming out of the library, no one could disturb them. It was just them under the awning. No one else mattered. Careful, he met her eye, a fond look shimmering in his irises. Her hand was about to fall to her side, when he picked it up and held it between them—a gesture so sweet it made her lose it a little. Kitty was scared, but she knew this was how it was meant to happen. 

Slowly, Min-ho uttered: “I think I fell in love with you. A little bit, or… a lot.”

A beam stretched across her face without thinking about it. The scared feeling didn’t rise. All she felt was exhilaration. Kitty let go of his hand and threw them around his neck instead. “I’m sorry I wasn’t clear before,” she said. “But can I kiss you now?”

Min-ho blinked, dazed, though a smile teased his mouth at the question. “Yeah.”

Surging up, they met in the middle in a sweet kiss. He exhaled with relief into her mouth and it only made her clutch onto his harder. His arms wrapped around her waist, one slowly trailing up her back to grip her jaw and keep her close whenever she took a breath. He tasted sweet from the milky soda and his body was warm and he kissed her the way he argued with her: passionate and ardent. 

Eventually, they let go and their foreheads leaned together. With a ragged breath and puffy lips, he said: “You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.”

Kitty grinned. “Ditto.”

~*~*~

Dear ‘XO, Kitty’ readers, 

As some of you have already heard whispers of in the hallway, I’ve decided to change the column for next academic year.

For so long, I’ve been using this column to matchmake people and sometimes, it worked, but other times, it didn’t. I most likely unknowingly caused harm to someone and it’s time I end that. Next term, I’ll be focusing on traversing Korean culture and its nuances, as well as anything school or friendship related. 

If there’s one thing I realised this past semester, it’s that love and relationships are unpredictable. It’s messy and stupid and funny and great. It’s giving a certain Lover Boy advice and belatedly discovering he’s talking about you. Yes, this romance columnist knows absolutely nothing about love. 

I wish you all the best in your romantic adventures, but I won’t be the one trying to piece it all together anymore. Rather, I’ll enjoy the mystery while it lasts. 

Happy summer break! 

XO, Kitty

~*~*~

“That’s cheesy and full of typos,” a British voice observed, peeking over her shoulder at the draft of her next column. The boy casually leaned against the desk, a peach soda in his hand. Others in the newsroom didn’t hear the insult he’d thrown at her, or didn’t care to retort. Both were probably true. 

Just to verify her suspicion, she found an oblivious Alex typing in concentration on his computer. Above Alex’ desk hung their articles, shiny and framed, after it got published in the Seoul Academic Youth Magazine. Min-ho got chosen as the best journalist of The K.I.S.S. Weekly as well, but Kitty wasn’t worried; she’d steal his title next year.

Kitty scowled at Min-ho. “It’s about you, so of course, it’s cheesy.”

Min-ho grinned and Kitty’s annoyance melted away in a snap. Tilting his head down, the boy kissed her, languid and careless of the others. A blush flared up her cheeks from the intimate kiss. But then he uttered something horrid: “I love it, Covey.”

Kitty pulled back with a frown. “I told you—!”

“I know, I know,” he soothed, hands raised in surrender. “What about… Kit?”

Her brows raised. “Kit?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, a little dopey, one reserved for her. “My Kit.”

“Yeah…” she patted his shoulder, sympathetic, “we’ll have to workshop those pet names, dude.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled back the seat beside her, claiming it and throwing an arm around her shoulder. “What about jagiya ?”

Her eyes averted to the floor, a sudden shyness overtaking her at the cute pet name. It meant ‘baby’. She heard it countless of times from other Korean couples as jagiya was a common one, but having it directed at her did something funny to her heart. “Um…”

Not catching her bashfulness, he kept trying: “Kat? KiKi?”

Kitty looked up again in horror, something he seemed to enjoy. Of course, even when dating, he loved riling her up. “You’re getting worse.”

Min-ho smirked and leaned in closer. If Professor Lee had been in the newsroom, he’d have already sent them to detention for overt affection. Getting all up in her space was his favourite activity as of late. The past Kitty that had claimed he wasn’t ready for a relationship was absolutely wrong. If he wasn’t hanging out with Dae and Q or doing his homework, they were taking long walks in nearby parks, picnicking, watching movies with his favourite sheet masks on, or, well… kissing. A lot of kissing. 

“ Gongju ?” he whispered. 

Her eyes narrowed and she swatted his chest. The draft of the column blinked forgotten on the screen. Crossing her arms, she sniffed. “I’m not a princess.”

“Are you not? Am I not fetching you drinks every single day?” To prove his point, he gestured at the peach soda he’d offered her. The peach soda industry had to thank the boy at this point for the increase in sales. (Kitty also didn’t have the heart to tell him she was ready for a different flavour. The carbonated peach taste got old after a while.) 

“I never asked you to!” she argued. 

Min-ho laughed. “You never say no!”

His exclamation grabbed the attention of a few newsroom members; Hinata giggled. A warm hand slid on her knee and squeezed it, grabbing her attention. Min-ho mouthed sorry.   

Lowering her voice, she continued the argument with quiet glee. They never fought anymore, but bantering like it was a sport? That was their favourite thing to do… besides kissing, probably. “Do you think anyone would say no to that?”

Min-ho clicked his tongue and pressed a finger on the table. “And that is why you’re a princess.”

Kitty scoffed. “That implies you’re a prince.”

“My mother has played as a queen in a K-drama before, so…” There was never a winner when it came to banter. Eventually, one quieted down and let the other relish in the final barb. Kitty thought for a moment. Min-ho has been suggesting a dozen names at this point, but what should she call him. They have been dating for a couple weeks now, they ought to have some cute names for each other.  

With a soft smile, she made sure no one was eavesdropping when she said: “I’ll just call you baby… if that’s okay.”

Right then, sunlight filtered through the windows and illuminated Min-ho’s sweet gaze, fondness alight like the golden pools that spilled onto the floor. The boy tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, the fingers resting in her neck. “Yes,” he whispered, “that’s more than okay.”

끝

The End

Some images I created for the fanfiction that I love to share with you :)

I put the source of the article I used in the image, but just to be certain, it's:

Sussman, A. L. (2023, March 8). A World Without Men. The Cut. https://www.thecut.com/2023/03/4b-movement-feminism-south-korea.html