Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This is nice,” you murmured, nuzzling your face on your husband’s shoulder. 

He peered down at you through his circular frames, smiling softly. “It is,” he agreed. “We should do this more often.”

The two of you were snuggled up under a crocheted blanket in your basement, watching a movie on the big screen with candles lit around the room in your combined attempt to be romantic. It wasn’t everyday that you had a moment to yourselves, especially since both of you had jobs that required lots of attention. Today was the first night in god knows how long that you were able to sit back, relax, and enjoy each other’s company. 20th Century Girl was playing on the screen, but you were half-watching, half talking to each other about everything and nothing all at once. Your wine glasses had been filled halfway at the start of the movie, but now, more than halfway through, there was nothing but a sip left in each. Your love of wine had only sparked after being with him, so whenever you were able to spend one-on-one time with each other, you’d bring out the expensive bottles your friends and family gifted you at house parties or anniversaries. 

“We really should, babe,” you turned your gaze onto him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I miss you.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer into his side and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I see you everyday.”

“It’s not the same,” you insisted. “This is different. It feels like the old days.”

“Don’t say that—it makes me feel old.” 

You giggled, tucking your face into his neck. He always smelled like old wood and clementines—your favourite. “Well, that’ll make me ancient, since I am older than you,” you said as an afterthought. 

“Only by a year,” he clucked his tongue; you brought it up more often than you ought, but he never once cared that you were older, even when you were first introduced to each other. 

“ Still .” 

While you didn’t care about your age difference either, lots of other people did. For instance, your mother. God bless her, but she’d been a bit more than alarmed when you told her about your husband—who had been your then-boyfriend for nearly a year. She’d said that younger men were immature and only wanted to be with older women so they could be taken care of. That wasn’t the case with your husband. He had taken care of you . The two of you were introduced through mutual friends in university; you were a senior, and he a junior. You had just gone through a terrible breakup and he was there to pick up the pieces. It was unexpected to say the least; you hadn’t even seen him in a romantic light until your graduation day, where he showed up with a bouquet of flowers and his shy and beautiful smile. You had realized, on the spot, that you had developed feelings for him all along. 

And the rest is history. 

“I love you, Jisung,” you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his neck and feeling more than satisfied to hear his breath catch in his throat. 

“And I love you, my angel,” he replied, shifting slightly in his seat. 

You chuckled, knowing how to get him going after being together for so long. You pressed another kiss to his neck and gasped when his cold hands slithered under your shirt and touched your skin. He turned his body towards yours, looking down at you with flushed cheeks and lust in his eyes. He had always been so shy to initiate anything more than a meager make-out session, and you found yourself falling deeper—if that was even possible. You pulled his face down to attach your lips to his, causing him to sigh into the soft kiss you shared. His hands ran up and down your sides, while yours ran through his hair—a habit you developed after you’d started dating. Apart from his smile and signature scent, the one other physical thing you loved about him was his fluffy hair. You could play with it for hours on end. 

Once Jisung got going, you could never stop him. It had been a bit more than surprising when you’d first taken that next step, but you loved it. While you were always the first to initiate, he was the one to follow through. Despite not wanting to have sex on your sofa in the basement, you felt a certain urge—more like a fire in your lower belly—that swept away all worries of how uncomfortable it may be. After all, it was Jisung. He was probably the only person who could make you feel safe. 

With him pressing hot kisses to the base of your neck, and you gasping at the intoxicating feeling, you were more than ready for what was to come next. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest, as well as a similar feeling in between your legs, but before he could even take your shirt off, a loud slam from above caused you both to startle. 

Jisung’s lips were red, and he was panting from the need of having you as he asked, “What was that?”

You shook your head, eyes focused on his lips. “Maybe the cat.”

It couldn’t be your cat, especially when you heard multiple footsteps and voices—even above the movie that was now long forgotten and playing in the background. 

“Are you kidding me…?” you groaned, leaning up on your elbows as your eyebrows knit together in frustration. 

Jisung pushed himself off of you, using his index finger to slide his glasses up his nose as he shook his head. “I thought they were staying with Shotaro and Renjun overnight?” 

You huffed. “So did I.”

He looked at you, a curious expression replacing the one of lust from moments ago. “Are you upset they’re home?”

Your face softened slightly, sitting up properly. “I mean…a little. Aren’t you?”

“Well, maybe,” he said, before suddenly flushing, “They did just stop me from having you, so yeah.”

You smirked at him. “You know you can have me anytime you want, right?” 

He flushed harder. “Yeah, I know. It’s just awkward when they’re sleeping down the hall.”

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps came tumbling down the basement stairs and someone threw themselves at you and Jisung like it was second nature. (It was.) 

“Mommy, Daddy!” Dayeon cried, causing you to wave away all horny thoughts to attend to your youngest daughter’s needs. 

“What happened, honey?” 

“Are you okay, Princess?”

She sat on Jisung’s lap, circling her arms around his neck with tears trickling down her cheeks. “I-I couldn’t find you.” 

You and Jisung shared a concerned look. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. 

“I looked…I looked upstairs, but you weren’t there,” she croaked, hiding her face in Jisung’s chest. “We watched a—a sad movie. The parents died. I thought…I thought something h-happened to you guys.”

You let out a sympathetic sigh, scooting closer so you could hug both her and your husband. “Oh, Dayeonie…”

“Nothing will happen to us, Princess,” Jisung soothed, rubbing her back. “We’ll always be here.”

“You won’t be able to get rid of us,” you said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“I-I hope not,” Dayeon sniffled, turning her head to look at you. “I love you too much.”

You felt your heart clench in your chest. She was too sweet for her own good. You wanted to hold onto her innocence and capacity for love for as long as you could. If she turned out to be like her older sister, then you only had three years left of hugs and snuggles and endless kisses. Dayeon was different, though. She had been different from her sister from the start. She was more like her brother—more like Jisung. They were quiet, attentive, and caring. Your eldest was a carbon copy of you, no matter how much you hated to admit it. She was defiant, bratty, and selfish—much like how you used to be at her age. You dreaded having to go upstairs to face her, especially after a night with her two favourite uncles was cut short. 

“We love you, too, sweetheart,” you murmured, wiping Dayeon’s tears from her cheeks. 

“More than you’ll ever know,” Jisung softly spoke, caressing her hair. 

Dayeon’s bottom lip quivered, but no tears escaped her eyes. She looked more relieved than anything, removing one arm from Jisung’s shoulder to swing it around yours. She pulled you close and squished her soft nearly-nine-year-old cheek against yours—a habit that you absolutely loved and knew would cease to exist in just a few years. You closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of being loved—and wanted—by your child. Things were already moving too fast for you and it didn’t help that your work kept you away from the kids at times. You just wanted everything to stop—freeze in place. However, you also wanted to resume what you were doing with your beautiful husband. 

Dayeon held Jisung’s hand as the three of you made your way up to the main floor of the house. You braced yourself for the sounds of complaints from your eldest, finding her easily; she was slumped over at one of the chairs at the kitchen table, a huge pout on her lips as she tapped away on her cellphone. It seemed like she was already preoccupied with the next big thing, but you could never be so sure with her. 

Your son was fumbling through the fridge, which was not an unusual sight, as he was fourteen and seemingly always hungry. He was the most useful of your three children, which you knew was just a symptom of his Middle Child Syndrome. Your eldest seemed to brush all of her responsibility onto his plate, and yet you never heard him complain once. 

“Okay, don’t be mad!” your best friend’s voice sounded from the hallway. 

You turned your head and found him emerging from the bathroom, looking extremely guilty as he wiped his wet hands on the fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Is there no towel in there?” is what you asked instead. 

Shotaro Osaki looked puzzled; he was more than prepared to be scolded for bringing all three kids back on your and Jisung’s night-in. Maybe you were saving it for later. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d scolded him, especially when you’d been friends since high school. 

“Uh, no, but that’s besides the point,” he replied, coming to a stop just where the kitchen began. He lifted his clasped hands, begging for your forgiveness. “Neither of you were answering your phones, and Dayeonie was really concerned about you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Before you or Jisung could say anything, your eldest muttered, “You didn’t have to drag all of us back, Uncle Taro.”

“Dami...” You sighed, not wanting to get angry but still not loving her attitude. She seemed to be getting worse everyday. It was infuriating, to say the least. 

“She’s right,” Shotaro cut in before you started an argument with her. “Renjun told me to just take Dayeon, but I didn’t listen. She wanted Dami and Doha to come along, too.”

You looked over at your youngest and smiled softly when you saw the embarrassed flush on her cheeks.

“Sorry,” she squeaked, still holding onto Jisung’s hand. 

“The movie was sad,” Doha reassured her with a soft smile. 

“It was Frozen ,” Dami scoffed, putting her phone down on the table with an annoyed thud . She looked at Dayeon and rolled her eyes. “You need to grow up.”

Anger bubbled in your chest, but Jisung was quick to intervene. “Hey, don’t talk to your sister like that,” he said with a furrow of his brow. “Her feelings are valid, alright?”

Dami scowled. “Fine. Can we go back to Uncle Taro’s now?”

“I want to stay home,” Dayeon mumbled, sending a semi-apologetic look toward Shotaro, who only gave her a gentle smile in return. 

“I meant me and Doha,” She corrected. 

“Why are you so mean to Dayeon?” you asked with a slight frown. “She’s your little sister.”

“Yeah, I know . You remind me, like, a thousand times a day, Mom,” she huffed. 

Your face hardened. “Just for that, you’re staying home.”

Jisung’s mouth parted in surprise, but he was unable to say anything due to the obnoxious gasp Dami let out. “Are you serious ?!” she screeched. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“I’ve had more than enough with your tone, Dami,” you told her firmly, unbothered by the fact that Shotaro was witnessing this very embarrassing moment on Dami’s behalf. It didn’t help that he had seen plenty before. “Just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean you can speak to me like that.”

“Y/N, come on—” Jisung sighed, but Dami just bulldozed right over him, standing up from her chair and snapping, “Well, forgive me for having the most nagging mother ever!” 

You were glad that there was some distance between you and Dami, otherwise you would’ve smacked her across the face. You tried your best to remain calm, balling your hands into fists and breathing heavily through your nose, but it was no use. She knew exactly how to push your buttons, and this—showing no respect—was exactly it. There had been a time where she would be so excited to see you, whether it be after a long day at school, or after a night at her grandparents’ house, running to you with the brightest smile on her face. You always lifted her into the air just to hear her thrilled screams and giggles, but now…

Now, she looked at you with disdain and contempt. You were her number one nemesis, and you had no idea why. It had just happened overnight. One day you had been so close, snuggling with each other and laughing as you swiped each other’s noses with whipped cream, and the next mortal enemies. When she was in a good mood, you walked on eggshells around her, using a light voice as you tried not to ask too many questions about how her day was or what she was up to. It was horrible. You just hoped this hating-mom-phase would blow over soon. It was getting old, and quick. 

“Dami Park.” Jisung said firmly, causing Doha to close the fridge door to watch in curiosity. It was common knowledge that the discipliner in the house was you; Jisung was too soft, especially on his girls. “We’ve had a talk about this before. You absolutely cannot behave like this. If you wanted to go back to Uncle Taro’s house, you should’ve thought about the consequences of speaking to your mother like that. Why would we let you go when you’re being nothing but disrespectful?”

She looked stunned, almost as if she couldn’t believe her father wasn’t taking her side like he usually did. Sure, there had been a number of times where he had no choice but to agree with you, but he almost always defended Dami’s behaviour. He reasoned that this was just a phase—that teenagers rebelled in different ways, and treating you like shit just so happened to be Dami’s—but not today. Today, he sided with you. You didn’t know if it was because he actually agreed with you, or if your almost sex-capade was still on his mind, but, nonetheless, you were grateful. 

Dami shook her head, coming to her senses again, and glared at Jisung—betrayal written all over her face. “God! Everyone in the house sucks !” she declared, before stomping her way upstairs like an irrational toddler. 

You let out a sigh, hearing her loud footsteps recede to her bedroom, before the slam of her bedroom door echoed throughout the house. 

“Nice going, Taro,” you said, looking at your best friend with a pointed look. 

Guilt returned to his face and you instantly felt bad for pinning the blame on him. Dami’s behaviour was not his fault in the slightest; in fact, as one of her godfathers, he was the one person who could actually put her in a good mood. It was the fact that he brought her home that caused her to return to her charming self. 

“Sorry, Y/N-ie,” Shotaro said, shoving his hands into his pants’ pockets. “I should’ve listened to Renjun. He’s definitely going to hit me with the I-told-you-so line.”

Jisung chuckled. “I bet he’ll be so smug, too.”

“Oh, without a doubt,” he replied with a shake of his head. “But, I really am sorry for cutting your date night short. I’ll make it up to you.”

You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it, Taro. You do way too much as it is.” 

He smiled softly, the guilt ebbing away from his face. “It’s only because I love you, your husband, and your beautiful kids.” 

Doha snickered from where he now sat at the kitchen table, scooping into a bowl of what looked like cereal. “So cringe, Uncle Taro,” he told him. 

“Oh, really?” Shotaro hummed in amusement. “I have more where that came from.”

“I’m sure you do,” Doha said with his mouth full, causing you to wrinkle your nose at him in slight disgust. 

“I’ll save it for the next time I see you,” Shotaro said, lifting a hand and saluting everyone. “Goodnight, and I’m sorry again.”

Chapter Text

The late September air was as cool as it could be humid. You sat on the uncomfortable metal benches of the high school’s bleachers with a thin sweater sticking to your arms. Despite always running hot, you thought you would get cold being outside in the evening, but you were wrong. As always. Now that you were in your mid-40s, you had hot flashes more often than you liked, and whenever you complained about it, a certain someone would remind you of the average age women begin menopause. Luckily, she wasn’t sitting with you and the rest of your family right now. Instead, she was on the soccer field, wearing a yellow uniform with white embroidery and the number 11 on her back. Her hair was pulled into a French braid, and her bangs pushed back by a white headband. Tonight was her third game of the season, and she would’ve killed you if you missed it for the third time in a row. 

Dayeon had made a sign with Doha’s help. They’d printed off select photos of Dami from the family iCloud album and glued them onto the centre of the board. On the top, they wrote the first half of Dayeon’s catchphrase, and the bottom the latter half. Dami, Dami, is the best. Dami, Dami, gets no rest. When Dami saw it earlier today, you swore you saw her lips curl up into a smile, but because you were standing at the kitchen island, she forced a scowl on her face before asking you to do her hair. It was funny how much she tried to hate you because she always came to you asking for help, despite being too proud to do so in a polite way. (“I thought you were doing my hair, Mom,” she’d huffed when she saw you preparing snacks for the game.) 

The score now was tied at 1-1 with only fifteen minutes left of the match. If Dami’s school team—the Hornets—lost, then all hell would break loose on the ride home. You tried your hardest not to always think about the worst case scenario when it came to your eldest, but it was hard. She was loud and rude and intolerable at times. You wanted her team to win so that you could have a nice dinner together, as a family. And, since you had missed her two other games due to work, you haven't been able to celebrate her wins properly. 

You sat on the fourth bench from the ground with Jisung to your left, his best friend Chenle Zhong on his other side, and Chenle’s wife on your right. All the kids, including Chenle and Yizhou Ning’s, were sitting on the bench below yours, holding up the sign in turns. 

Jisung and Chenle had come as a package deal when you were first introduced to your husband in university. Whenever you saw Jisung at house parties, Chenle was always within a five-foot radius. They were like two peas in a pod, calling it fate when you and Yizhou fell pregnant at the same time with your eldest and youngest. Dami and Isaac were the best of friends, even from infancy. They were now the ones who were like two peas in a pod, even though it confused you as to how Isaac—the sweetest boy next to Doha—could deal with Dami’s blunt personality. Nonetheless, it didn’t seem to be a big deal in either Jisung or Chenle’s eyes, as they had an ongoing bet as to when they would start dating. You knew it would break their hearts once they realized Dami had her heart-shaped eyes set on someone else entirely. It was not someone you were very fond of, either, despite him being the son of your and Shotaro’s other best friend from high school. Nevertheless, Jisung and Chenle could always fall back on the hopes of Dayeon and Liam getting together, as they were born exactly one month apart. 

“Dami-jiejie’s really good!” you heard Liam exclaim, causing you to look down at the four sitting together just a row below you. 

Dayeon sat in between Liam and Doha, with Isaac on Doha’s right. They were all focused on the game—the younger two leaning their elbows onto their knees and sitting their chins in their hands. Isaac and Doha were now holding the sign in between them by their knees, waiting for the right moment to raise it in the air. 

Dami was on fire. She sped through the field like it was ice, dodging the defenders as if it was second nature. Her possession with the ball was solid—impressing you to no extent. You felt an immense sense of pride as you watched her, vicariously living through her as you remembered your own days playing soccer. You’d been an avid player from your elementary days all the way through to university, only stopping after you had gone through The Breakup That No One Talks About. 

It had been heartwrenching—the breakup. You had poured your heart and soul into your partner, having dedicated nearly three years of your life to them, but they had just left like it was no big deal. Soccer had always been your outlet for stress, but you couldn’t bear to play, knowing that the one person you wanted to be in the crowds was no longer watching. Apart from playing with your kids when they were little, you hadn’t played properly since. You wanted at least one of them to love it like you once did, and it just so happened to be Dami. 

“Oh, oh!” You perked up, watching Dami’s teammate pass the ball back to her. 

She had a clear shot of the net. You held your breath in your throat as she faked a kick to the right. The fake caused the goalie to leap in the wrong direction—a trick you had loved to use in your own games. Dami kicked the ball to the left, straight into the net, causing everyone, including you, to jump up and shout in victory. 

“Dami, Dami, is the best! Dami, Dami gets no rest!” the children cheered as you pumped your fist in the air. 

“That’s our girl!” you said breathlessly to Jisung, who looked as happy as you felt. 

He looped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close into his side and pressing a kiss in your hair. “She’s amazing,” he murmured. 

Looking back to the field, you saw as Dami ran around the field with her arms wide open, like a professional who had just won the World Cup. Her best friend Choyeon Jung was the first to tackle her to the ground, followed by the rest of their team, creating a huge doggy pile with bright smiles and laughter. Your heart felt tender at the sight, knowing the feeling of being celebrated by your teammates all too well. You were glad that Dami was the one experiencing it now. 

Once both teams shook each others’ hands, your and Chenle’s families had descended the bleachers. As the little ones waited eagerly for Dami to make her way over, you caught sight of a certain couple, piquing your attention. 

“What—they think they’re too cool to sit with us?” you said, nudging Yizhou before jutting your chin in the direction where your and Shotaro’s best friend stood with her husband. 

Yizhou let out a faux noise of complaint. “How dare they.” 

“Just because they have seniors doesn’t mean they’re above us,” you added, but you were grinning as you waved your hand to grab their attention. 

Finally, Minjeong Kim’s gaze landed on you and Yizhou, a smile quickly lighting up her beautiful face. She pulled along her unsuspecting husband, causing him to stumble like the deer he oh so resembled. 

“How lovely for you to join us,” you said with a scrunched nose. 

“Wah, wah,” Minjeong stuck out her tongue. “We only got here halfway through.”

Jisung and Chenle looked up at her giant of a husband, Sungchan Jung, still envious of his height despite knowing him for more than twenty years and not being much shorter. “No matter what, you can never get her to leave on time, huh?” the latter said in a joking tone. 

“Oh, please, he’s the one who takes his precious time getting ready!” Minjeong interjected with wide eyes, not letting Chenle get away with his infamous line. 

“Mhm, that’s what they all say,” he sang in response, sending her a friendly wink. 

Sungchan chuckled before focusing his gaze between you and Jisung. “Dami is such a superstar,” he told you appraisingly. “You must be so proud.”

“Incredibly so,” Jisung affirmed. “She’s definitely got the talent.”

“And I wonder where she got it from?!” Minjeong playfully punched you in the shoulder, grinning like she had the first time you’d met in first grade. She hadn’t changed very much since then. She still liked to pester you as much as she could—the unofficial jokester between you and Shotaro. 

You smiled proudly, not letting your nostalgia wash over you as you replayed Dami’s winning goal in your mind. “She got it from her mama!” you sang, causing the others to laugh. 

“Unnie, Unnie, you did so great!” you heard Dayeon cheer. 

Looking over your shoulder, you watched as Dami and Choyeon—Minjeong and Sungchan’s daughter—approached the kids with bright smiles and high energy.

“Thanks, kid,” Dami said, patting her little sister’s head with something akin to affection on her face. 

You whipped your head over to look at Jisung. His eyes were wide with nothing but surprise, an ear-splitting grin covering his face. You were sure that your face mirrored his. This was such a rare moment—Dami giving in to the sisterly love you’d always wished you had. When you found out you were having another daughter, you were so excited to see the sisterly bond develop between her and Dami. But…it never came. Dami and Doha had always been very close, and to have another kid suddenly appear was the last thing Dami wanted. She’d been nearly seven at the time, Doha five, and she had told you numerous times to give the baby back . She was plenty happy with it being just her and Doha. 

Even now, she was always so annoyed to take care of Dayeon and play with her when you had late nights at work. She complained of having the Eldest Daughter Syndrome—forced to grow up too fast to take on the responsibility at home. You disagreed with her. The way she acted was like a spoiled twelve-year old, not the nearly sixteen-year-old she was. Taking on responsibility at home? If that only meant watching TV and leaving an endless amount of dishes in both the sink and her bedroom. If anything, Doha was the one shouldering all the burden; he knew how to cook, clean properly , and preoccupy Dayeon in an appropriate manner, not just by throwing on Disney Plus and calling it a night. 

“How precious!” Yizhou cooed as quietly as possible, in fear of Dami hearing and going back to her usual self. 

While the children chatted amongst one another, you turned your attention back to your friends. Minjeong mentioned going out for dinner to celebrate, knowing the match was just an excuse to get everyone together. It had been quite a while since you’d all gathered as a group, mostly due to your conflicting schedules now that school was back in session and extracurricular activities resumed, not to mention how busy your jobs all got due to the academic year. You were a social worker who specialized in the foster system; Jisung and Yizhou were teachers at the same Special Arts school, teaching Dance and Art, respectively; Chenle was an accountant and Sungchan worked as an architect, so they were busy year-round; and Minjeong worked full-time as a radio host, and part-time as a vocal coach at a nearby music studio. It was quite rare for the six of you to gather regularly during the school year unless there was a soccer game for Dami and Choyeon, or if any of the kids initiated a play date.

“Should we just meet at our usual spot?” Chenle asked. 

“No need to ask,” you chuckled. “Let’s go.”

“Great! We’ll meet you guys there.” Sungchan grinned. 

You turned around to gather your kids when you saw Him. The boy that caused Dami’s eyes to reshape themselves into hearts. The boy that you remember holding just hours after he was born, cradling him to your chest and crying because you couldn’t believe your best friend had just created something so small yet so valuable. Juyeon Jung—Minjeong and Sungchan’s son and Choyeon’s twin brother. He was 85% legs and 15% bad boy. You couldn’t for the life of you figure out where the bad boy attitude had come from, since Sungchan had always been a clumsy sweetheart with nothing but the best intentions. Not to mention the fact that Minjeong was even nicer than both her husband and Shotaro combined. It was a wonder how Juyeon had adopted such an image, especially when all the men in his life were nothing but softies. 

Juyeon stood tall at six foot one, angling his body slightly away from Dami, as he forced an unimpressed look on his face. He always altered between two expressions on his face when you saw him as of late—an unimpressed one, and an arrogant one, where he would curve his lips into a smug smirk. He had once talked back to you with the latter expression, and it took everything in your willpower not to smack it off his face. Every time you tried to bring it up to Minjeong, she never failed to defend him, claiming that it was just a phase and that he would grow out of it soon enough . Shotaro’s husband Renjun Huang shared your dislike for the seventeen-year-old; the only difference between the two of you was that he didn’t hide it at all. His face would scrunch up in displeasure at the way Juyeon acted at get-togethers; Shotaro would have to nudge him in a not-so-subtle way to stop him from being so obvious. You had to force yourself to hide your dislike for him—at least in public—because he was, after all, your best friend’s son. You’d changed his diapers when Minjeong and Sungchan were beyond exhausted; you’d even witnessed his potty-training days that weren’t very successful. It was hard to not like him, since you had so many memories of him as a sweet and innocent child, but it was different now that he was a hormonal teenage boy that sought after your daughter. 

“Ah, nice of you to join us, Juyeon,” Sungchan joked, causing the boy to let out an annoyed puff from his lips. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, “I knew Mom would throw a fit if I didn’t come.”

What a lie . 

You knew that the only reason why he came was because of a certain soccer player—one who definitely was not his sister. Watching him with careful eyes, you noticed him trying so hard not to look at Dami. He was looking a bit too bored for it to even be believable. It was almost kind of cute. 

“Well, thanks for coming!” Jisung said, oblivious to the secret love affair between your daughter and Juyeon. “We’re going to head over to Romeo’s for dinner. You in?”

Juyeon shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Sure.”

You bit back your smile. It really was hard to dislike him at times. When you took a step back, you realized how young he was and that teenage love is supposed to be stupid and corny. Even if he was a bad boy. Maybe they’d be cute together. Maybe . 

“Great, let’s head out!” Chenle cheered, taking hold of Yizhou’s hand almost immediately. 

Doha, Dayeon, and Liam all ran ahead together, heading in the direction of the parking lot. Choyeon linked her arm with Dami’s and pulled her along, while Isaac walked alongside Juyeon. The latter four had been inseparable as kids. The twins were only a year and some older than Dami and Isaac, so they all had automatic best friends from the start. Since you and your friends all lived within 15 minutes of each other, you arranged playdates for them (as well as yourselves) quite often. Dami and Choyeon had always been best friends, even from the start. They balanced each other out; your daughter was very opinionated and demanding, while Choyeon was goofy and laidback. Isaac fit in with them easily because of Choyeon; she was like the mother hen, making sure that he felt comfortable around them. Isaac was a good boy, a bit shy at times but fun in his own way. He and Juyeon clashed when they were younger because of how gullible he was. 

You were surprised to see Isaac tolerate Juyeon now, as teenagers. While he was younger, he was so much more mature than the other. You knew Isaac was only being polite so as not to rock the boat. That, and the fact that his parents were Chenle and Yizhou. You doubted he had even an ounce of hatred in his body. Still, the sight of the two boys walking side-by-side piqued your curiousity as you headed back to the car, your hand entwined with Jisung’s. You couldn’t possibly imagine what they would talk about, considering Isaac was on the Student Council and debate team, and Juyeon was known for sleeping through his classes and getting enough detention slips to make a novel. (Okay, you take it back—it would not be cute if he dated Dami.) 

By the time you were shuffling through your purse to retrieve the car keys, Juyeon was unlocking his own car with a press of a button. 

“Okay, come on, kiddos,” you said, finally retrieving yours and looking up to round up your children. 

Dayeon and Liam were still playing; Doha was patiently standing by the car door; and where was Dami…? 

You looked around, furrowing your brows together in search of your eldest. She was just in front of you. 

You felt your heart seize in your chest at the sight of her riding shotgun in Juyeon’s car. All the windows were down, and you had the perfect angle of her looking through the visor mirror at her face. Choyeon sat languidly in the backseat, putting her feet up on the console between the driver and passenger seats, while Isaac closed the door to the seat next to hers. Juyeon, sitting in the precious driver’s seat, finally shed his unimpressed act, and was now looking at your daughter with the smug expression you wanted to smack. 

“Uh, since when does Juyeon drive?” you said out loud. 

“He got his G2 four months ago,” Chenle answered like it was common knowledge. 

You looked at Sungchan and Minjeong pointedly. “You got him a car ?” 

“It’s his and Choyeon’s,” Minjeong replied with a proud smile. 

“Juyeon uses it the most, but that’s only because Choyeon likes being driven around,” Sungchan added with a faint chuckle. 

You couldn’t believe it. Juyeon Jung had gotten his G2 license and was gifted with a car, despite his terrible attitude and grades. You didn’t like to judge your friends’ parenting, but you couldn’t even imagine how Juyeon had earned the privilege of being able to drive his own car around. Jisung had mentioned wanting to get Dami a car once she was old enough, but you told him that it would be impossible for her to earn something that required so much responsibility. She could barely take care of herself, relying on you not only for food, but for laundry and general household chores, too. The day she would be gifted with her own car was when she proved herself responsible and mature enough to have one. You knew that that day would come once Dayeon entered high school. 

“Jheez, Y/N,” Yizhou snickered in amusement, “no need to show how you really feel.”

Quickly correcting your face, you didn’t feel even remotely embarrassed for showing your disbelief. “I’m just surprised,” you said. 

“I know Juyeon has his issues, but we think that if we show that we trust him, he’ll come around,” Minjeong explained. 

You nodded, pursing your lips together as you tried your best not to grimace. That was totally the wrong route to take, especially with a boy like Juyeon. You knew that he took advantage of his parents, especially with how laidback both of them were, and this was just the cherry on top. He was going to work them until they finally popped. You secretly couldn’t wait for that day; you and Renjun would watch from outside the Jung’s kitchen window with a bowl of popcorn in hand as all hell unfolded. 

“Eomma, open the door!” Doha called out from your car. 

Like it was second-nature, you double-clicked the button of your keys. “Sorry, honey,” you said, before looking over at Jisung. “Let’s go.”

He nodded, smiling softly at you. “All right.”

You forced yourself to wave goodbye to your friends, whom you’d be seeing again in only ten minutes time, before walking over to your car. With another glance at Juyeon’s car, you watched as he backed up expertly with one hand on the wheel, the other on the headrest of Dami’s seat. The sight made your chest seize, and you found yourself praying under your breath that Dami and the others would make it to the restaurant in one piece. Please, please. She’s happy today. Let it last. 

Once you got into the passenger seat, Jisung reached across the centre console to link his fingers through yours. Meeting his soft gaze, he told you in a reassuring tone, “She’ll be fine.”  

Chapter Text

“Mommy, I’m bored,” Dayeon sighed, entering your office with a dejected look on her face. 

You looked up from your laptop with a playful pout. “Are you, baby?” you motioned for her to walk around your desk. “Where’s your brother?”

Once she reached you, she immediately perched herself on your lap. “He’s in the bathroom,” she replied, gazing at all the open envelopes on your desk. “What are you doing?”

“Boring adult stuff,” you said, circling your arms around her body and pulling her close to your chest. “Aw, my poor baby. What should we do?”

“I dunno. Anything!” she groaned. “When is Daddy coming home? Maybe we can watch a movie, or something.”

Jisung had left early this morning to visit his parents. Dayeon was supposed to go with him, but she was sleeping so soundly that he didn’t want to disturb her. That faulty decision had made her quite grumpy when she woke later on and found him already gone. She loved her grandparents with all her precious heart, so she felt a bit betrayed that Jisung would visit them without her. However, as the morning stretched on, she got over it and yearned for him to return so she could play with him. 

Since it was the weekend, you tried your best to keep the kids preoccupied, but it was hard when you had so many bills to get through. Usually, Jisung would do his fair share in helping, but you didn’t want to fall behind waiting for him to get back. So, you took matters into your own hands (as you’d done plenty of times before), causing you to leave Doha and Dayeon to entertain themselves. Dami never got up before noon on the weekends, so there wasn’t much for you to do for her besides make waffles. 

“He should be home soon,” you told her, pressing a kiss to her soft cheek. “Why don’t we go find a movie to put on?”

Her eyes brightened in an instant. “Okay!”

A chuckle escaped your lips as she jumped off your lap and ran out of your office excitedly. Seeing her so happy to spend time with you always made you feel all warm inside. It had been a while since Dami had expressed anything positive towards you, and Doha was always in his own world, so you tended to rely on your youngest for that warmth. Was it unhealthy? Maybe. But if you didn’t enjoy it now you would regret it later. 

After sorting the envelopes and documents into neat piles, you finally joined Dayeon in the living room. She was sitting on the sofa, already flipping through the movies on Disney Plus. 

“What are we watching, Dayeonie?” you asked as you sat down next to her with a low groan; you really needed to stretch more often. 

She puffed out her cheeks as she looked through the selection. “Hm…” All of the movies that she passed through were the ones you’d watched on endless repeat before. “Ooh!” Her face lit up. “Let’s watch Inside Out !”

You chuckled. “All right. Inside Out , it is. Do you want any snacks?”

“Um, of course !” she sang out, as if there was no other answer. 

You knew exactly what she wanted, so you set out to make a big bowl of popcorn in the kitchen. As you rustled through the cabinets for an appropriate-sized bowl, you heard the beginning credits of Inside Out sound from the TV. Dayeon was not one to fool around when it came to movies. 

While the popcorn was busy popping away in the microwave, you watched the first scene from the kitchen with a soft smile. You remembered watching it for the first time with Dami when she was younger. She had been so amazed by the characters, her doe eyes wide and entranced, just like Dayeon’s were now. It left you feeling nostalgic, since you seemed to remember all of the sweet memories of your eldest whenever you were creating the same with your youngest. However, the feelings of nostalgia were interrupted by the sound of an angry pounding of a door upstairs, followed by Dami’s frustrated demands, “What are you doing in there?! I have to pee!”

You sighed, turning your head towards the direction of the landing. Although you were fortunate enough to afford a four bedroom house, it only had two and a half bathrooms, which didn’t seem like a big deal when you first moved in. Having the kids share a bathroom now, however, resembled a war zone. It was mostly Dami who made it an issue, because she was the only one who actually used it for reasons other than showering and relieving herself. Despite Jisung buying her a full-length mirror after she begged for one, she still used the bathroom to do her hair and makeup. It pissed you off to no extent because she was always yelling at Doha for no reason. 

“I’m shitting, go downstairs!” 

Cue another sigh. “Oh, Doha…”

“Oh my god, Mom !” Dami screeched. “Doha is going to clog the toilet again! I thought you told him to only use the downstairs bathroom!”

May God give you all the patience you needed until Jisung returned. 

“Leave him alone!” you called out. 

“It’s disgusting!” she shouted in response. 

You heard her loud stomping to your bathroom just as the microwave beeped, causing you to turn your attention to the popcorn bag. You took it out, pulled on the tabs and poured it into the bowl. It smelled buttery and delicious, and you couldn’t help but pop a few in your mouth on your way back to the sofa. 

“Here, baby,” you said, setting the bowl between you and Dayeon. 

“Thanks, Mommy!” she grinned. 

You caressed her face with a small sigh. Please…don’t turn out like Dami. Please, love me forever. Please, call me Mommy forever. “You’re very welcome.” 

The two of you watched Inside Out peacefully for about another fifteen minutes until Dami called out, “Mom! Where’s my shirt with the butterfly?”

“Check the laundry room!” 

“I did !” 

“Check again!” 

Cue the grumbling, the stomping, and the slamming of her bedroom door. One day you would follow through with your endless threats to remove her door if she slammed it again . One day…  

“I can’t wait to see Bing Bong,” Dayeon told you. 

“Oh, me too,” you agreed immediately, picturing the pink creature that both Dami and Dayeon loved. While they were very different people, they seemed to share some things in common at the age of nine, namely their love for Bing Bong…and you. Stop it, Y/N!

As the movie went on, you found yourself recalling the first time you watched it. As it was released in 2015, that made you about fourteen years old, in grade nine. You were still pretty young, but at the age where watching cartoon movies in the theatre could be seen as embarrassing, especially if you bumped into classmates. It hadn't been your choice, though, because you, Minjeong and Shotaro were tasked with taking care of the latter's younger sister. Shotaro's mother had had her hands full with not only a high schooler, but a nine year old and a toddler, so both your and Minjeong's mothers had gifted her with a full day off Mom Duties. You remember briefly complaining about having to watch the movie, but once you realized you were going with your best friends, you quickly shut up. 

The sound of feet galloping down the stairs tore you away from your thoughts. You turned your head over your shoulder distractedly, expecting to see Doha, but you did a double take upon seeing Dami and her wildly inappropriate outfit. She shuffled into the kitchen with an exaggerated puff of her breath, disappointed to see the lack of a waffle waiting for her at the table. 

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked. 

Her shoulders tensed up immediately. “ Yes , Mom.” 

“Where are you going?”

You couldn’t take your eyes off the butterfly shirt that she’d worn many times before. You didn’t have a problem with it until now, as it was rolled up to the underside of her bra, exposing a lot more skin than necessary. To top it all off, she was wearing a pair of your old low-rise jeans, but that wasn’t what bothered you; no, it was the waist-chain she adorned around her thin figure. She was only fifteen ! There was no reason for her to be wearing such accessories, nor for her to be exposing so much skin. Especially in October , in Canada . 

“Why do you ask so many questions?” she muttered, turning around in annoyance and revealing her face that was full of makeup. 

“Dami Park,” you said with a shake of your head. “Are you going emo?”

She gaped at you. “ What ?! No, Mom! God !”

Her eyes were lined with sharp black eyeliner, and her lips were outlined with a brown lip liner and a dark purple gloss coating on top. It was hard to think otherwise. She looked like she was going emo. If Dami wasn’t, then she was clearly losing her mind, because there was no way in hell you would let her go out looking like that ! 

“Dami, you are not going out looking like that!” You repeated your thoughts aloud. 

Her eyebrows pinched together in frustration. “Why? What’s so wrong with this?”

“There’s too much wrong with it!” you exclaimed. “You’re fifteen, Dami! Why can’t you look like it?”

“Oh my god ! I’m turning sixteen in two months, Mom. Stop treating me like I’m a child!” She screeched. 

You chuckled. “Honey, I hate to break it to you, but you are a child. As long as you’re under eighteen, that’s what you are.”

“You’re so annoying!”

“How nice,” you sighed, getting up from the sofa. 

“It’s true!” she insisted. “All you do is yell at me! It’s so unfair!”

You picked up a neglected zip-up hoodie Dami left on the armchair. Fixing her with a pointed look, you said, “What are you doing right now? You’re the one yelling at me, Dami. I yell because it seems like you don’t even listen to me.”

“Yeah, well, why should I even listen to you?” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re such a hypocrite.”

You threw the zip-up at her, suddenly very angry. “If you want to go out, you should watch your mouth! And cover up! No one wants to see that much skin exposed!”

Dami caught the sweater with a gasp, looking at you with an equal amount of anger you felt boiling in your chest. “I’m not a child!” she hissed. 

“Dami Park! Watch your fucking tone!” you swore, causing Dayeon to gasp and clap her hands over her ears. 

“Why do you hate me?!” Dami cried, stomping past you and running up the stairs. 

“I should ask you the same thing!” you called out after her. 

Collapsing onto the sofa, you leaned your head back on the cushions and stared at the ceiling, listening to the telltale WHACK of Dami’s bedroom door slamming for the second time today. 

She was going to be the death of you. 

You had the urge to call your mother and apologize to her for being such a bitch from ages fourteen to nineteen, but you knew that she would never let you forget it. All you wanted to know was how she endured it. You weren’t nearly as disrespectful as Dami, but you knew you’d been a handful. You didn’t make things easy for your mother growing up, but you eventually came around. You just wondered when Dami would do the same. 

“Mommy?”

You looked down to your left, peering into the hesitant eyes of your youngest. 

“Sorry, honey,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to swear in front of you.”

Dayeon shifted closer to you. “It’s okay.”

“Do you want to rewind the movie?” you suggested, feeling bad for spoiling her TV time. 

“No, this is a good part now,” she pointed at the TV just as Doha came bounding down the stairs. 

“Mom, just let Dami go out,” he told you as he plopped down on your other side. “That way, the house will be quiet.”

You turned to him with an unimpressed look. “Very funny, mister.”

He just grinned, before reaching over you to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl. “ Ooh !” he nodded at the TV. “Excellent choice, Dayeonie. I love Inside Out .”

“ Such a classic, right, Oppa?” Dayeon replied with a giggle. 

You just sighed, circling your arms around both kids and relishing in their saneness. 

The movie was nearing the end when Dami’s footsteps sounded down the stairs for the second time. You turned your head, expecting her to ask you to make her something to eat, but you heard her shuffling by the front door instead. Knowing that she was up to nothing good, you pushed yourself to your feet and padded over to the front, where you saw her adorning the zip-up sweater you’d thrown at her. You also noticed that she toned down her makeup, which made you smile unconsciously—she’d finally listened to you. 

“Is this better?” she snipped, her voice quiet as she shoved her feet into a pair of Converse high-tops. 

“Yes, thank you for listening,” you told her gently. “Do you need any money?”

She shook her head. “I’m just going to a friend’s house.”

You chuckled, leaning against the railing of the staircase. “Isaac or Choyeon’s?” 

She avoided your gaze. “Choyeon’s.”

“Great! Do you need a ride, or are you taking your bike?”

“I’m getting picked up, Mom,” she sighed, obviously annoyed by your insistence on a conversation but still not trying to pick a fight with you again. 

You pursed your lips together, feeling slightly sad at the thought of your daughter acting like conversing with you was the most painful thing in the world. Then again, you were the same when you were her age. You cursed at yourself for being such a pain when you were younger. Perhaps if you’d been more like Minjeong—a cute and kind goofball—then Dami would’ve inherited those traits instead of your unattractive ones. 

“Oh, all right,” you said, thinking about how relieved she must be not to be stuck in the car with you for the twelve minutes it took to get to Minjeong and Sungchan’s house. “Is Choyeon finally comfortable driving alone?”

Dami still didn’t look you in the eye, but you assumed that it was due to her wanting to just escape as fast as possible. “Yup, that’s right,” she answered shortly, grabbing the shoulder purse that you’d gifted her for her last birthday. 

You let out a small breath, knowing that you had no other choice but to let her go now. “Okay. Well…have fun, sweetie.”

She finally looked at you, appearing slightly guilty but not enough that it made her apologize for her behaviour. “Thanks, Mom,” she muttered. 

You offered a small, close-lipped smile as she turned to unlock the front door. Just as she turned the lock, the door opened, revealing a startled Jisung, whose face brightened immediately upon seeing both you and Dami at the door. 

“Oh, hello, my beautiful girls!” He greeted happily, circling an arm around Dami’s shoulders before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Hi, Dad,” she mumbled. 

“Hi, babe,” you smiled, feeling much better now that he was home. “How are your parents doing?”

He gave you a semi-shrug. “They’re okay. Appa caught a bit of a cold, but he’s trekking along. Eomma was just upset that I didn't bring the kids.”

You clicked your tongue in sympathy. “Should I make some soup and bring it to him?” 

“Yes, I think he’d like that,” he agreed before looking down at Dami, who was itching to leave. “Oh, Dami-bear—do you know that Juyeon is outside, waiting in his car?” 

You immediately narrowed your eyes at your daughter, who closed her own in realization that she’d been caught. “Excuse me ?!” you said, surprising Jisung. 

“What?” he said. 

“Ask your daughter!” You exclaimed, trying to keep this new wave of anger at bay. “She just lied to me.”

Dami huffed in annoyance, opening her eyes just to throw you a piercing look. “I only lied because I knew you would act like this if I told you the truth!” 

“What did you lie about?” Jisung asked gently, irking you to no extent. 

“She told me she was going to Choyeon’s and that someone was picking her up,” you answered on her behalf. “But no—she’s going around sneakily, dressed incredibly inappropriately, all to hang out with Juyeon!”

Dami was about to unleash her rage if not for Jisung’s interference. He placed both his hands on her shoulders and nodded, as if he could understand how unreasonable you were being. This did not surprise you at all, and it made you all the more wound up. 

“Okay, let’s all calm down,” he advised, giving you a pleading look that you shot down with a glare. “My love, please,” he insisted, but you just clenched your jaw in response. “Dami is dressed just fine. She’s hanging out with Minjeong’s son. Why isn’t that all right?”

You took in a few deep breaths, knowing that if you didn’t you would regret it. 

“Okay, fine,” you said with an eerie smile that told him that he was in just as much trouble as Dami was. “You’re right, Jisung. It’s perfectly fine.” 

He sighed. “Y/N…”

You shook your head. “No, no, if you say it’s fine, then it has to be fine, right?” You averted your gaze to Dami. “Go ahead, Dami. You don’t want to leave Juyeon waiting, do you?”

She looked at you with a flicker of worry in her eyes. She probably thought you were going insane. Maybe you were, but it was bound to happen when you had a daughter like her and a husband who always took her side. 

“I feel like this is a trick, Mom,” she muttered. 

“So are you saying that you’re not going to go?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as Jisung removed his hands from Dami’s shoulders. 

She glanced at Jisung, who appeared just as hesitant as her. “Well…” she looked back at you, “ will you let me go?”

“Do you really think having my permission has ever stopped you before?” you scoffed, wondering why she was suddenly being cautious. “Go, Dami. Have fun.”

“Y/N, why are you being like this?” Jisung sighed. 

“Like what?” you snapped, piercing him with your gaze. 

“Mom, come on,” Dami groaned. “You’re being so unfair. So what if I told a little lie? There’s no reason for you to be so passive aggressive.”

Suddenly, you were transported back to the late-2010s when you were being reprimanded by your mother through her own manipulative tactics. It was shocking to be hit with the realization that you were turning into her. You’d promised yourself time and again as you raised your kids that you would never be like her—that you would try to be better to ensure that your children wouldn’t have issues later in life—but no. You had unconsciously gone back on your promise as Dami’s pubescent stage led you to go absolutely crazy. 

However, you weren’t going to let everything go just because she called you out on developing your mother’s disciplining tactics. Instead, you pushed past both Jisung and Dami through the front door. You had no idea what you were doing, but you knew that it would be embarrassing to Dami. That’ll teach her to mess with me . 

“What are you doing?” both Jisung and Dami called out. 

You ignored them as you marched down the porch and across the front lawn in your house slippers, only coming to a stop when you approached Juyeon’s car. Knocking your knuckles against the passenger side window, you waited till he rolled it down to greet him. 

“Hi, Auntie YN,” he said with his annoyingly smug smile. “You’re looking radiant as always.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, unimpressed. “Your games don’t work on me, Juyeon,” you told him. 

He wasn’t fazed by your comment. “Is Dami ready?”

“What exactly are your intentions with my daughter?” you asked him. 

“Intentions?” he repeated, daring to appear confused. “Choyeon asked me to pick her up since she’s going to be late from her swim meet.” 

“That’s funny,” you said just as Dami finally joined you by the car, “because Choyeon’s swim meets are Sundays, not Saturdays.”

“Oh my god, Mom!” Dami exclaimed. “Stop being so crazy!”

You looked at her, noticing the embarrassed flush on her cheeks, the pinched irritation between her brows, and the tension in her shoulders.

Why couldn’t she have just told you the truth? Why did she have to make this so much harder for herself? No…this was your problem, not hers. Right? Of course it was; you were a grown woman fighting with a teenager over miniscule things. The difference was that you were her mother , so you had a right to argue with her over such things. But… were you blowing things out of proportion? You honestly couldn’t tell, especially with Jisung making you out to be the Evil Queen and all. 

You let out a heavy sigh, causing all of the anger in your body to dissipate at once. Looking between Dami, who was on the verge of having a mental breakdown due to having you as her mother, and Juyeon, who was doing a horrible job at hiding how amusing this was for him, you realized you were being a bit crazy. It was just hard to deal with how difficult Dami could be at times. You didn’t want her making the same mistakes you made at her age. She obviously didn’t understand that, as all she saw was her mother preventing her from having fun. 

“Dami, just get in the car,” Juyeon said, reaching across the console to open the door from the inside. 

She didn’t waste any time to scramble inside and slam the door shut. “Go. Quickly.” 

You closed your eyes, drew in a deep breath, and exhaled. 

Please, give me patience . Please, let Dami come back in one piece . Please, don’t break her heart, Juyeon, or else I’ll break you . 

“Bye, Auntie Y/N!” Juyeon sang as he put the gear into drive and pulled out. 

“The least you can do is show some respect!” you shouted after the car. 

It was beyond confusing as to how Dami and Juyeon could piss you off so quickly, especially when your day job required a lot of self-control and empathy. You didn’t know how you managed because it involved things much more serious than Dami’s backtalk and secrecy. You always settled it down to the fact that Dami was your child and that it was normal for a child to make their parents go crazy. 

You were brought back to reality by the sounds of giggles. 

Looking around in confusion, you spotted two girls across the street giggling together. They appeared to be around Dami and Doha’s ages and seemed to have watched your whole interaction with Juyeon from the way they quickly turned away when you finally took notice of them. Aside from the fact that they had watched you at your craziest, they piqued your interest since you’d never seen them before. Unlike most people, you liked to know who your neighbours were, just to make sure your kids were living amongst sane people. You remembered that previous family that had lived in that house sold it a few months ago, which could only mean that these girls were the daughters of the new homeowners. 

Sure enough, when you averted your gaze, you saw the moving truck parked right by the house. I should introduce myself when the time seems right. But then, you remembered that the girls had seen you yell at Juyeon and Dami. They’ll definitely tell their parents that they live across the street from a crazy lady .

When you returned inside, Jisung was waiting for you by the stairs. It was obvious that he felt bad for not siding with you, but you didn’t have it in you to give in to his apologies.

“My love—” he started, but you immediately cut him off.

“You need to stop making me seem like some evil person,” you told him quietly. “I’m not being unreasonable. I do not trust Juyeon and I do not want him to be alone with Dami.” 

Jisung’s face fell. “You’re not an evil person—”

“Every time you side with Dami, it’s as if you guys are mocking me!” you said with a shake of your head. “Whatever—we’ll talk about this later. Dayeon has been missing you. Try not to mess with her perception of me, okay?” 

He let out an exasperated breath, “Y/N…”

“ Later , Jisung.” 

Chapter Text

“I’m so embarrassed, Mom,” Dami said. “Do we have to do this?” 

You closed the front door behind you and nodded. “Yes, it’s a nice thing to do.”

“You said one of them looks like she’s my age,” she continued. “What if she’s actually in my grade? It’s going to be so embarrassing at school tomorrow.” 

“Why would it be embarrassing?” you asked with a shake of your head. “If anything, she’ll be relieved to see a familiar face. Maybe the two of you can ride the bus together.” 

Dami held back an eye roll. “Yeah, right,” she puffed. “I don’t need any more friends. I have the twins and Isaac. That’s more than enough.” 

Doha snickered. “Are you sure you’re just friends with Juyeon?”

You purposely ignored his comment, knowing that he mentioned it to get a rise out of both you and Dami. 

Things had been relatively fine around the house today, but it was only because Jisung and a begrudging Dami had apologized for the way they treated you yesterday. Your argument with Jisung hadn’t been a pleasant one, as you’d ranted to him for an hour once Doha and Dayeon retreated to their bedrooms for the night. He sat there, taking it all unflinchingly and resembling a hurt puppy. He’d apologized to you, telling you that all he wanted was for Dami to be heard as well, but he didn’t realize how much it was affecting you. Once Dami returned from her day-long supposed “hang out” with Juyeon, Jisung retreated to her room to have a long talk with her. The result of it was the apology that came this morning. It wasn’t a heartfelt one, but it was something, and you appreciated it.

“Oh, shut it,” Dami muttered, and you could tell that she didn’t want to get into another fight with you either. 

Dayeon was bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Let’s go, Mommy!” she said excitedly. 

Your kitchen had turned into a makeshift bakery this morning. Sundays were deemed fun-days, as described by Dayeon. Today’s fun-day consisted of baking various sweets for both your house and the new neighbours that moved in across the street. Dami had even joined in on the fun, as she had quite the sweet tooth and appetite for such things. The five of you had made chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and an apple cake. While Jisung was now taking over his share of bill duties, you were taking the kids over to the new neighbour’s house to gift them an apple cake as a welcome to the neighbourhood. 

Dayeon was beyond ecstatic, especially when you told them that you saw two girls go into the house yesterday. She was hoping to make new friends, even though the girls seemed to be her siblings’ ages. Maybe they have a little sister, like me! was what she said when you told her that they were older. 

“All right, let’s go,” you agreed, making sure that Doha had a good grasp on the plate that held the cake. 

The four of you set off for the house; Dayeon held onto your hand, practically skipping all the way there, Doha equal in pace to you, and Dami trudged a few feet behind with a grimace on her face. It was a true testament to their personalities. 

“I want to ring the doorbell!” Dayeon said as you climbed the steps to the porch.

Once Doha and Dami were also gathered on the porch, Dayeon reached up and rang the bell.

“This is so exciting!” she gushed, looking up at you with a giddy smile.

You smiled back at her, nodding in agreement. “It is, baby!”

“I hope this is quick…” Dami mumbled.

“Be nice,” Doha said before sticking his tongue out at her.

She made a face at him in response, just as the front door opened.

One of the girls—the younger one—looked surprised to see the four of you standing there. “Oh, hello?” she said in greeting. 

“Hi!” Dayeon waved with a bright smile. 

You wondered which one of your kids was going to explain why you were all there. You’d hoped it would be Dami, but that was just wishful thinking. 

“Hi,” Doha said kindly, “we live just across the street. My mom noticed that your family just moved in, so we baked a cake today and thought to bring it to you guys. You know, to welcome you to the neighbourhood.”

You smiled proudly. That’s my boy!  

The girl also smiled. “Wow, that’s so nice of you.” 

“Our mom is a social worker, so she wanted to make sure that you guys are normal,” Dami added with a sarcastic smile. 

The smile fell from your lips as you turned to give her a look. “Dami!” you said, feeling disappointment fill your chest. Turning back to the girl, you noticed her giggling, but you still apologized, “I’m sorry, honey.”

“No, it’s okay. That was funny,” she reassured you. “I wouldn’t say we’re out of the ordinary, but we’re definitely not normal. My parents are already painting the house even though we haven’t unpacked yet.”

Her reaction caused you to feel better. 

“Isn’t that better, though?” Doha asked. “That way the paint won’t get on anything.”

The girl made a face before giggling again. “That’s what my dad said to me. Maybe I’m the weird one, I dunno.” She shrugged. “Well, my name is Sumi. Are you Korean as well?”

“Yes, we are,” you said, feeling excited to have Korean neighbours. Your neighbourhood was beyond diverse but you had yet to have another Korean family in it. “It’s nice to meet you, Sumi. How old are you?”

“Fourteen,” she replied. “That’s so cool. You know, that you’re Korean, too. My old neighbourhood had only one other Korean family living in it and they were fresh immigrants, so they didn’t really get along with my parents.”

“Wow, you’re my Oppa’s age!” Dayeon shrieked excitedly. “He’s also fourteen!”

Sumi giggled, glancing at Doha, who just smiled at her. “Wow, really? What’s your name?”

“Oh, it’s Doha,” he said. 

“Nice,” she said, before looking at Dayeon. “And how old are you? You seem really wise.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. She was so kind. 

“I’m almost nine,” Dayeon told her proudly. 

Sumi feigned a gasp. “No way! I thought you were ten! You’re so tall.”

Dayeon giggled, shaking her head. “ No , I’m only eight!” She looked up at you. “Mommy, do I look that big?!”

“Of course you do,” you confirmed with a light chuckle. 

“Yay!” she cheered. 

“So cute,” Sumi commented before looking over at Dami. “What’s your name?”

“Dami,” she responded. “I’m almost sixteen.”

Sumi’s eyes brightened. “Really? My older sister is also turning sixteen soon—”

“Sumi, who’s at the door?” a voice called out. 

“Neighbours!” Sumi said over her shoulder. She turned back and said, “That was my dad. Hopefully he’ll come and introduce himself. But, yeah, it’s so awesome that you guys are the same age, and me and Doha are as well. That’ll make the first day of school much easier.”

Dami let out a small puff of annoyed air, but didn’t say any more. Thank goodness . 

“Who is it?!” the same voice called out, but this time it was much closer. 

While you had a bad habit of imagining parents of teenagers to be much older than you despite having teenagers of your own, you did not expect to see a once familiar face come into view. It was as if time had stopped, looking into those eyes that had been the cause of your pain all those years ago. It felt like you were going through all of it again, reliving every memory and having to feel the heartache all over again. While it wasn’t his fault that it had happened, you had a hard time believing that he was as unaware of the situation as you were. He was the one who benefitted from it, after all.

“Oh my god.” He said upon seeing you. 

All of your kids looked between the two of you in confusion. 

“What?” Dayeon said, before tugging on your hand. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

You snapped out of the memories that came to mind, looking down at your youngest, utterly speechless. “Um…what?” 

“Mom,” Dami said slowly, clearly weirded out. “Are you good?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, still in disbelief. 

There was no way this was happening right now. It just wasn’t possible. The universe wasn’t this harsh, was it? You’d survived thus far without crossing paths, so why did you have to now ? Why did he have to move into the house across from yours? 

“Do you know each other?” Sumi asked curiously. 

“Yes.” He said. 

“No.” You said. 

You didn’t know why you said that. Of course you knew him. You just liked to pretend he didn’t exist. 

This was not real. It couldn’t be. 

“Mom, what the heck.” Dami said. “This is weird.”

“Okay, sorry,” you shook your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I only meant that we used to know each other. We don’t anymore.”

Doha tried to explain the situation when he noticed the bewildered look on Sumi’s father’s face. “We live just across the street. My mom saw your daughters yesterday and thought to bake you guys a cake to welcome you to the neighbourhood.”

“Oh, wow,” Sumi’s father gingerly took the cake from Doha. “That’s so kind of you. Thank you so much.”

You suddenly realized that if he and Sumi stood at the front door for too long, then it would only be a matter of time before she showed up. You needed to get out of there, and fast. 

“Okay, let’s go,” you told your children. “Say goodbye.”

“Bye bye!” Dayeon said, waving to them. 

Doha and Dami half heartedly bade them goodbye, too distracted by your reaction to be polite, before following after you. 

You ignored Dami and Doha’s questions, your mind spinning as you crossed the street and walked up the driveway and into the house. The last time you’d heard news of him—of them —was about twelve years ago. Minjeong had heard from a mutual friend that he and his family— their family—moved to the United States for a quote-unquote new chapter. You thought that that was the end of it and you would never have to worry about bumping into them again. You were at ease for twelve long years, so of course the universe had to throw something at you unprovoked. 

“Mom!” Dami shook you by the shoulders, causing you to finally rejoin them in your front foyer. 

All three of your kids were looking at you in a mixture of fear and concern. Just the sight alone told you that you didn’t handle seeing him again properly. You needed to get your act together, otherwise your kids would think something weird was going on. They probably already did, but you didn’t want them to see you like this. Or worse. 

Where was Jisung? You needed Jisung. 

“What is wrong with you?” Dami demanded. “Who was that guy?”

“I’m fine, I’m sorry,” you said, holding onto her hands with a smile that you hoped looked reassuring. Why was his appearance shaking you so much? “That guy is…I went to university with him, that’s all.”

Both Dami and Doha appeared unconvinced that that was all to the story. 

“Why did you react like that to seeing him?” Doha asked. “Even he was acting weird. Did you see how wide his eyes were?”

“Is he your ex-boyfriend?” Dami asked, suddenly intrigued. “Does Dad know about him?”

You shook your head. “No, he’s not my ex-boyfriend, Dami. Yes, Dad knows about him.”

“Wait, what?” Dami looked confused. “He’s not your ex, but Dad knows him?”

“Who do I know?” Jisung emerged from your office, hair tousled and eyes bleary. 

Dayeon was beyond excited to recall the story, but she focused more on meeting Sumi than her father. 

“Aw, she seems super nice, Dayeonie,” he said with a smile. “Did they like the cake—?”

“Dad, you’re literally missing the most important part of the story!” Dami interrupted. 

He chuckled. “Okay, what is it?”

“Come on, Dami,” you sighed. 

“No, Mom, it’s weird,” she emphasized, before telling Jisung the odd reactions you and Sumi’s dad had to seeing each other. 

Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed together as he listened. He met your gaze and tilted his head to the side, disbelief in his eyes. He knew . Just from the story your kids told him, he knew who they were talking about. That’s how well he knew you, but that was mostly because he’d picked up the pieces left behind from the disaster that was Sumi’s parents. 

“Dad?” Doha said, waiting impatiently for his reaction. “Do you know who that man is? Mom said you do, and that he’s not her ex-boyfriend.”

“Okay, first of all, you guys don’t need to be worrying about who Mom’s ex is,” Jisung said, causing Doha and Dami to look at each other in a mixture of confusion and distrust. “Second of all, you guys didn’t tell me whether they liked the cake or not.”

You let out a sigh of relief. 

Doha and Dami erupted into noises of complaints and groans for not answering their questions properly, but Jisung redirected them to the kitchen to eat the fresh pan of brownies he’d pulled out moments before your return. 

With the kids distracted by the endless amount of goodies, you and Jisung finally had an opportunity to talk about the elephant in the room. 

“What the fuck do I do?” you asked in a whisper, the two of you hiding in your bedroom closet. “I can’t ignore them now. I gave them a stupid cake and now they’ll have to bring the plate back eventually. Not to mention that they have two girls the exact same ages as Dami and Doha. What are the fucking odds?”

Jisung brought your hands up and placed them on his chest so you could feel the beat of his heart. It worked every time you stressed yourself out—the first time which just so happened to be right after The Breakup. 

“It’ll be all right, my love,” he reassured you. “Since he knows it’s you, maybe he’ll be considerate and not come over. He’ll probably send one of his daughters to do it. As for the same age, it obviously is a coincidence.”

You drew in a deep breath. “If I’m this worked up after seeing him, imagine what it’ll be like to see her.”

“Do you really think they still care about the past?” Jisung asked. 

“Yes, why else would he say ‘oh my god’ after seeing me?” 

“Maybe because he saw how beautiful you are,” he said, causing you to whine and hide your face in his neck. 

“Babe, come on!”

Jisung wrapped his arms around you, chuckling. “I’m just telling the truth, my love.”

You didn’t think it would matter this much after all these years, but clearly your subconscious had yet to heal from the pain. Hopefully you would be able to put aside all of the feelings your twenty-one year old self had gone through before you saw her. You didn’t want her to think that you were still hurting from what had happened. It would be stupid to be caught up in something that had happened over twenty years ago. 

Chapter Text

“No fucking way!” Minjeong gasped. 

“Are you sure?!” Shotaro asked, a furrow between his eyebrows. 

You nodded. “I’m one hundred percent sure. He said, word for word, oh my god.”

Minjeong couldn’t help but just gape at you, rendered completely speechless, much like yourself yesterday when you encountered the man from your past. 

“I can’t believe this happened in front of the kids,” you lifted a hand and rubbed your temple. “Dami won’t let it go. She keeps pestering me about it.”

“I’m not surprised,” Minjeong said, suddenly recovering, a smirk on her face. “A hottie from her mom’s past? Of course she’d go crazy just to get more info.”

You slouched back in your seat as Shotaro chuckled, “That’s not even the hottie she should be worried about.” 

“Enough with the hottie talk,” you sighed. “What do I do?”

“Okay, wait, before we help you,” Minjeong said, leaning forward with an excited look in her eye. “Tell me, Y/N…is he a DILF?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Seriously? You’re asking me if Jeno Lee is a DILF?” 

“It’s a good question,” Shotaro said unhelpfully. 

“Do you not remember what he looked like throughout our uni days?” you replied, slightly annoyed that they weren’t taking this as seriously as they ought. “Just picture that but add twenty-something good years.”

Minjeong and Shotaro looked at each other with grins that resembled their fifteen-year-old selves. 

“Yum.” Minjeong giggled, causing you to roll your eyes yet again. 

This was not what you’d expect to talk about after you called them for an emergency coffee during your lunch breaks. You only had forty-five minutes, including your commute back to your office, so excuse you if you didn’t want to waste your time guffawing over how hot Jeno Lee had gotten over the past two decades. All you had wanted was some advice from your two best friends who had witnessed everything that had gone down in your university days. They were the only ones, besides Jisung, who could help you through this. 

“Guys…” you complained, wanting nothing more than just to have a tantrum without being judged. It would probably help you feel a bit better if you could throw some things around and whine as if you were a twelve year old who didn’t get her way instead of the grown forty-something year old woman you were. 

Minjeong and Shotaro settled down, looking back at you with small pouts on their faces. 

“Sorry, Y/N,” Shotaro said in his soothing voice. “What do you want us to do? Egg their house?”

That caused you to snicker. “Please.”

“Do you think he’ll tell her?” Minjeong asked. 

“Of course he will,” you said, sitting up straight in your seat. “His daughter probably ran to her to tell her what happened. Just like my kids did with Jisung.”

“Okay…” she thought for a moment. “And you said that her daughters are the same age as Dami and Doha?”

You nodded, reaching for your iced coffee. “Yup. The older daughter is also turning sixteen soon. I swear, if they have the same birthday…” The thought angered you, causing you to bite down a bit too hard on your paper straw. “Ow…”

“This is what you should do,” Shotaro said, causing you to perk up, waiting impatiently for what you could only assume would be the best piece of advice known to man. “Nothing.”

You blinked. 

That was not the best piece of advice known to man. That was the worst piece of advice he’d ever given. You didn’t know Shotaro was even capable of doing that.  

“What?” 

“Yeah, Taro…” Minjeong made a face at him. “What?”

“If you don’t react, then you’ll have the upper hand,” he explained patiently. “However, if you react poorly, then they’ll think that everything still affects you.”

You felt insecure, draining the contents of your cup. “Is it bad that it affects me like this when I only saw Jeno?”

“Of course not,” Shotaro reassured you, reaching across the table to grasp your hand. “Your feelings are very valid. You had your heart broken when you least expected it. Anyone would feel the same way if their ex moved in across the street decades later.”

“Especially if they were your first love,” Minjeong added softly, placing her hand on top of Shotaro’s. 

You let out a small puff, wondering if it really was okay for you to feel the way you were feeling right now. Was it fair to Jisung that you were feeling this way? How would you feel if it was the other way around—if it was Jisung’s ex who had moved in across the street? 

“Oh…I don’t know,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “It’s just so weird, especially when it comes to Jisung.” 

Minjeong clucked her tongue in sympathy. “Jisung’s a saint, and you know it,” she said. 

Shotaro nodded in agreement. “Let’s compare,” he said. “Jisung’s been by your side for twenty-three years. And you’ve been together for twenty-one. That’s a long time, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Right,” he agreed, before saying, “Your relationship with you-know-who was only three years. Twenty-one years versus three? I think Jisung is feeling very secure in his marriage.”

A swirl of relief and realization settled in your chest. Shotaro was right. Of course he was. He always was.

This was all so silly. You were acting like you were Dami’s age—embarrassed to have run into an ex (well, not technically). It would blow over soon; it was just the initial shock that caused you to spiral. But, didn’t it make sense that it would cause you to react the way you did? You’d only been in two relationships your whole life (the person from The Breakup, and Jisung). It made sense for you to freak out because you’d never experienced the whole ex thing before. (Okay…well, you had your fair share of high school situationships, but those didn’t count because you hadn’t invested any love into them.) 

“Jisung is probably more worried about you than Jeno and his family moving in,” Minjeong agreed. “Don’t let it bother you too much, all right? I’m sure things will turn out just fine.”

You nodded, knowing that both she and Shotaro were right. “Okay, yeah,” you said. “You’re right.”

“We know!” Shotaro sang, causing Minjeong to grin and you to roll your eyes. (How fitting of your personalities.) (If you thought about it, your little trio resembled that of Dami, Choyeon, and Isaac. It was funny how those things worked.) 

—

You returned home just in time for dinner. 

Doha and Dayeon were setting the table while Dami lazed on the sofa and Jisung brought over the leftovers from last night’s dinner. This was the Park’s typical Monday evening routine: eating Sunday’s leftovers as neither you nor Jisung wanted or had the energy to cook. The kids didn’t seem to mind too much, especially when you and Jisung tried to cook something different every Sunday night. You just hoped that one particular kid would learn how to help. 

“Hello, my beautiful family!” you greeted as you entered the kitchen. 

Jisung grinned at you as Dayeon ran over excitedly to give you a hug.

“Hi, my love.”

“Mommy!” 

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around your youngest. “Hi, baby.” 

“Hey, Mom,” Doha greeted, walking around the table to give you a side-hug even as Dayeon held onto you. 

“Hi, honey,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How was your day?”

He shrugged, moving back around to finish placing utensils on each placemat. “It was fine,” he replied. “Nothing new—” he cut himself off, suddenly remembering something and looking over at Dami, whose head popped up from the sofa. “Actually…” 

You sighed, knowing where they were going to go with this. “Guys…” 

Dami jumped up from the sofa just as Dayeon let go of you to help Jisung bring over another hot plate. 

“What, Mom?” Dami said, face sly as she sat down in her usual spot at the table. “Doha just wants to tell you about his day.”

You gave her an unimpressed look. “I haven’t even washed my hands yet.”

“Well, hurry then,” Doha quipped. 

You shared a look with Jisung, but instead of him matching the bothered expression on your face, he appeared rather amused. Instead of pulling a Dami by leaving with a huff, you walked towards him and greeted him with a kiss on the mouth, causing Dami and Doha to gag and Dayeon to squeal excitedly. 

“Welcome home, my love,” Jisung murmured, a smile spreading across his lips. 

“Oh, yes, a great welcome home, indeed,” you rolled your eyes playfully before making your way over to the sink to clean up. 

Dayeon began to chatter endlessly about her day, which was full of fun and activities. She recalled having been introduced to the class’s new pets, which consisted of six ducklings that every student could take home for a night. 

“Wait, you would take care of six ducklings?” Doha repeated, surprised. 

“No, we would only take home two,” Dayeon replied. 

“Oh, okay, that’s more manageable,” he said. 

“You do realize Moody would try to eat them, right?” Dami asked, referring to your family cat. 

You dried your hands on the kitchen towel, looking over at Dayeon, who suddenly appeared very sad. 

“No!” she disagreed immediately. “Moody is a good cat. He wouldn’t eat them.” 

“Have you seen Moody lately, Dami?” Doha snickered. “He’s gotten so fat and lazy.”

“Hey, don’t call him fat,” you defended with a pout. 

As if called on cue, the cat entered the kitchen with a trudge in his step. He knew exactly when you were all about to sit down to eat dinner and never failed to join you every evening. The reason why he had gotten chunky over the years was because you’d spoiled him with treats and little pieces of chicken here and there. He was your first child, in a sense, as Jisung had gifted him to you upon your return from your honeymoon. Moody, named after a Harry Potter character, was a full bred Persian whose face resembled always being in some type of mood. 

“Mom, he’s fifteen pounds,” Dami pointed out. “He’s fat.”

“He’s just big-boned,” you said, causing Jisung to laugh. 

“You guys know you can’t mess with Mom and her first baby,” he said. 

Dami made a face. “Yeah, we know. Can we eat now?”

“Yes, let’s eat!” he cheered, bringing over the last of the leftovers and placing it on the hot plate in the middle of the table. 

As you all settled into your respective seats, Moody jumped up onto the sixth chair and curled up on it. He was, quite literally, the sixth member of your family, and he never let anyone forget it. 

“How was your day at work, my love?” Jisung asked as Doha dove right into the food. 

You sighed, helping Dayeon to put food onto her plate. “It was fine, nothing out of the ordinary,” you replied. He knew that you didn’t like to talk too much about your cases in front of the kids, so he didn’t press you for details. “How about you, honey?”

“It was chaotic,” he chuckled. “The sixth graders are so rowdy. The boys, especially.”

Jisung was a Dance teacher at a Special Arts school only ten minutes away. It was right next door to the elementary school Dayeon and Chenle’s son Liam attended, so it made drop-offs a lot easier. Jisung loved what he did, and it was obvious in the way his face brightened when he talked about his students. 

Once everyone had food on their plates, Dami finally circled back to what she wanted to hear. “Okay, Doha, how was your day?”

He had a smirk on his face that only caused you to share a look with Jisung, whose facial expression returned to one of amusement. “It was interesting,” he said. 

“Really? Why ?” Dami asked. 

“There’s a new girl in my grade,” he answered. 

“Wow…” she dragged out, before looking right at you. “Same here.”

You pursed your lips together. “Hm.” 

“Sumi Lee and her older sister Sua Lee,” Dami continued, “A.K.A., our new neighbours, Mom. Do you remember meeting Sumi? And her dad… ?” 

“Mhm, yes , I remember,” you said before proceeding to shove a huge forkful of salad into your mouth.  

“I thought a lot about what you said, Mom. You know, about how relieving it must be for those girls to have us to show them around,” Dami said as you shot daggers into Jisung’s eyes to get her to shut up. He only sent back a soothing gaze, but it had the opposite effect. “Sumi had obviously told Sua about the weird reactions you and their dad had to seeing each other, so we—that is, me and Doha, and Sumi and Sua—spent all of our lunch break trying to figure it out. But…we just can’t seem to do it. How weird is that?”

Doha seemed to be on his sister’s side today, as he was grinning mischievously instead of being his normal, sweet self. “It’s really weird, actually,” he told you in a matter of fact tone, “because Sua and Sumi know who their Dad’s exes are. And you’re not one of them. So…the question is: why did you guys react like that when you saw each other?”

You finally swallowed your large forkful of salad, feeling overwhelmingly uncomfortable with how much snooping was going on between Dami and Doha. While the two got along, there was never a time where they would willingly seek each other out at lunchtime in their high school. Scratch that, there was never a time Dami would be caught in school with Doha. Ever. 

“Honestly,” you shook your head, looking between them with mild annoyance, “this does not concern you at all.”

While Doha was surprised by your bluntness, it only seemed to spark more interest in Dami. “What’s the big secret, then, if he’s not your ex? Like, why all the drama if there’s nothing more to it?”

“It’s complicated, all right?” you said. “You wouldn’t understand, and I wouldn’t ask either of you to understand even if I told you.”

“I don’t understand right now,” Dami pushed, too busy focusing on this mysterious part of your life rather than on her plate that barely held any food at all. “It’s just way too weird, Mom.”

Jisung sighed. “Dami-bear, leave your mother alone. She doesn’t need to share every bit of her life with you.”

That was obviously the wrong thing to say because she immediately shot back, “But you expect me to share every bit of my life with you? How’s that fair?”

“That’s very different, and you know that,” he reasoned, but it only angered her further. 

“Why? Because you’re my parents you automatically have a reason to impede on everything in my life?!” 

You closed your eyes, trying your very best not to explode right now. It was Monday; you’d had a long, tiresome day at work with one of your beloved clients, and the last thing you wanted was to get into it with Dami. You just wanted to have a nice dinner with your lovely husband and supposedly beautiful children, but of course things had to go off the rails. It was just the norm when it came to having kids. Maybe if you’d known that this would become your Monday evenings, you would’ve thought twice about having kids. (Just kidding! …or, were you?) 

Moody meowed grumpily, stood up on the chair and stared at Dami for a second, before jumping down and scurrying away. Even he had had enough of her dramatics. 

“Enough!" you snapped when Dami continued to go on her rampage of the double standards when it came to privacy between children and their parents. “If this is what I will come home to every night because the two of you,” you waved an angry finger between Dami and Doha, “want to play detective, then I’ll stop coming home! Stop meddling in my past—and complaining when you have it so easy—” you aimed that directly at Dami, “—and eat your food!” 

“Y/N—” Jisung let out a heavy, disappointing breath, but Dami’s shrieks interrupted him yet again. 

“I have it easy? Really?! Not when I have the worst mother on the planet!” 

“What did I ever do to make you hate me so much, Dami?” you demanded. “Please, enlighten me.”

“Y/N, stop it!” Jisung snapped, causing the entire room to go silent. It was rare for him to raise his voice. 

You knew that you were out of line to yell at the kids, but you couldn’t help it. You just wanted to have a peaceful dinner. That’s all you asked for. Dami and Doha’s detective quest wasn’t as amusing to you as it was to Jisung, and he realized that a little too late. It was on him for letting it go on for too long, but nothing could have prepared him for the sudden attack from you. That was where he drew the line when it came to disciplining the kids: never threaten them with anything if they continued to exhibit a particular behaviour. He thought you of all people (i.e., a social worker) would know that best. 

When he stood up from his chair, you knew that nothing good was going to come from it. You let out a sharp breath and mimicked his actions, pushing back your own chair. 

“Do not move,” he told the kids firmly before leaving the kitchen entirely. 

You followed him up to your bedroom closet—the designated space to have discussions without worrying about a kid overhearing you. 

“You can not let Dami get to you like that,” he told you in a very calculated tone. “It only makes things worse and it scares Dayeon.”

He was right. He, like Shotaro, was always right. You hated them for it. 

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said. “I know there’s no excuse for my behaviour, but things at work were tense today. The last thing I needed was for dumb and dumber to start questioning me about Jeno. I just wanted to enjoy being with my family.”

Jisung was never able to stay angry with you for long. You could tell he was still annoyed, but his face had visibly softened upon hearing that you had a bad day. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, my love,” he said, but then he shook his head. “And I’m sorry for what I’m about to say.”

You waited patiently, wondering what he would say that could possibly be any worse than anything Dami has ever said. 

“I know you deal with a lot of difficult cases on a daily basis, but you need to work on separating your work life from your personal life,” he told you, surprising you. 

“Oh…” you raised your eyebrows. “I didn’t realize I did that.”

“Yeah, well…” Jisung appeared torn, “you do it with Dami a lot. You always tell her that she has it easy, and I’m sure she does in comparison to your clients, but… You need to realize that she isn’t any of your clients, nor is she exposed to the sorts of things your clients endure. She’s your child , Y/N, and I think you need to work on the way you discipline her.”

You were beyond speechless. You couldn’t be bothered to feel defensive, because you knew it was true. 

“You’re a social worker, Y/N,” Jisung continued, “so you know how to deal with troubled youth. You have various approaches that you take to talk to these kids. You may not think that these approaches will work with your own children, but it’s worth giving a shot, don’t you think? Otherwise, if you keep yelling at Dami, she’s going to end up resenting you for the rest of her life. Much like the way your clients resent their own parents.”

“Wow…” you shook your head, feeling incredibly stupid all of a sudden. How did Jisung seem to know everything? Instead of talking down to you or patronizing you for the way you treated your daughter, he explained what he saw as your flaws in a way that would make sense to you. It made you love him all the more. It also made you want to kick yourself for not realizing that even though you were helping countless children everyday, you were discarding the needs of one of the most important children in your life—Dami. “Thank you, Jisung. I really needed to hear that.”

He offered that soft, tender smile of his that you loved more than life itself. “Of course, my love,” he murmured, closing the distance between you by pulling you into his arms and pressing a quick kiss at the top of your head. “I hope I didn’t offend you.”

With your arms wrapped around his middle, you peered up at him with confusion clouded in your eyes. “What? No, you didn’t offend me, babe,” you reassured him. “Thanks for being so honest.”

He leaned down and captured your lips in a long, soft kiss. “Any time,” he murmured against your lips. 

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?” you asked. 

He pulled away, looking into your eyes for a few moments before an unsure smile tugged itself across his lips. 

“What is it?” you pressed. 

“Is it so bad to tell them who Jeno is?” he wondered, taking you by surprise and causing the smile to fall from your lips. 

“What?”

“Sorry, never mind,” he dismissed it immediately. “Of course they don’t need to know.”

“Jisung, they don’t need to know,” you told him in a tone below a whisper. 

He nodded in agreement, regret flashing in his eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, wondering how many emotions he went through in a day when he was married to you. His anger was short lived because he suddenly felt sorry that you’d had a bad day, then he was happy because you’d taken his criticism well, and now he was feeling remorseful for bringing up Jeno yet again. Did he base his emotions off how you were feeling? You hoped he didn’t; it would only make you feel worse if that was the case. 

“I should apologize to the kids,” you said after a while, looping your arms around his neck. 

He nodded in agreement, his hands finding your waist easily. “Me too. I didn’t mean to get so angry earlier.”

After stealing a few more kisses from each other, you returned to a very silent kitchen to seek forgiveness from an angry Dami, an overly full Doha, and a sniffling Dayeon. 

Chapter Text

“Mom!” Dami called out as soon as she heard the front door open. 

You held back a groan. 

It was Friday, 8:02 PM, and you’d barely even stepped foot in the house. What could she possibly want from you right this second? 

As you slipped out of your shoes and locked the door behind you, Dami had come to greet you. She resembled more of her twelve year old self than the nearly sixteen year old she was, with her long brown hair messily pulled into a knot at the top of her head, her face bare of makeup, donning Jisung’s Western University hoodie that was paired with flannel pajama pants. The sight itself caused the annoyance to dissipate from your temple, but only hesitantly so. You were always on your tiptoes around her—you could never be so sure what was going on when she sought your attention, especially when Jisung was around. 

“Hi, honey,” you breathed out, offering a soft smile. 

“Hi,” she said, stiffly reaching out an arm to give you a side hug. 

You hid your surprise by the rare act of affection, quickly reciprocating it with one arm around her. “How was your day?” you asked. 

She shrugged, withdrawing within a matter of seconds just to cross her arms over her chest. “Fine, I guess,” she told you. “I decided I don’t like Sua anymore.”

“Sua?” you questioned, opening the closet door before shimmying out of your fall coat. 

“You know, the new neighbor,” she mumbled, her face pinched with irritation. 

Your eyes widened as you hung your coat. “Oh…” you had no idea what to say, but you weren’t very surprised that their friendship was short-lived. Dami was a lot, and not a lot of people could tolerate her. That was why her friend group had consisted of the twins and Isaac for so long; they were like family, so they had no choice but to accept her faults. “Did something happen?”

“Well…not really, but it still annoys me,” Dami puffed, uncrossing her arms before lacing her fingers together behind her back. She seemed very fidgety, which was unlike her. 

“You know you can tell me, right?” you said with an encouraging look on your face. 

Things around the house had improved over the past few days after Jisung had that talk with you. You did your best to reflect on your actions whenever you didn’t have to think about your clients or your children or what you had to make for dinner. Nonetheless, you were grateful for your conversation with Jisung, because now that you knew how to improve yourself, you had sincerely apologized to Dami and she was now seeking you out for help. That’s not to say that the two of you didn’t argue—it was just less often. Dami was still Dami, after all. 

“Yeah, I know…” she held back an eye roll, not liking that you were telling her to do something she was already going to do. “It’s just…Juyeon talks to her a lot now. And it bothers me.”

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t that. Dami never spoke to you about Juyeon. He was her little secret even though it only seemed to be a secret to Jisung and Juyeon’s parents themselves. Even Shotaro and Renjun knew of their little crushes on each other, and the latter did not approve whatsoever. 

All you knew was that you could not say the wrong thing right now. You couldn’t take it if you did because it meant having to deal with a Dami-sized tantrum on a very empty stomach. If you had something to eat first, then perhaps you’d be able to tolerate it, but even then you’d had enough headaches for the day. 

“Maybe he’s just trying to be nice, honey,” you suggested very slowly, watching her expression with calculation. “She is a new student.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Dami muttered, shrugging her shoulders. “He’s just a bit too nice to her. He doesn’t talk to me the way he talks to her. And you know how he is, Mom. He’s almost never nice to people he doesn’t know.”

This caused you to frown. How did he speak to Dami if it wasn’t politely? And why did she tolerate it? 

“Well…” you tried your best to think of something that would put her at ease, “you were the one who introduced her to him, right?”

She nodded. “Yup.”

“Whenever we’re all gathered together, I notice him looking at you when Dad says something too cringy, or when Uncle Chenle is a bit too obnoxious,” you started, causing Dami’s eyebrows to furrow together in confusion. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” she asked. 

“It means that he wants to know what you think,” you replied softly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “He cares about what you think. So, maybe because you took the initiative to befriend Sua—a new girl—he thought to be nice to her to make you happy.” 

Dami’s cheeks flushed almost immediately and she avoided your gaze for fear of being called out on it. “Oh…” she mumbled, trying very obviously not to care too much about what you just said. “All right, then.”

You chuckled lightly. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah…thanks, Mom,” she said, just as someone’s footsteps neared the front entrance. 

“What’s taking you so long, my love?” Jisung asked, stopping at the sight of the supposed serious conversation between you and your eldest. “Oh, sorry…”

Dami turned around and stuck her tongue out at him. “She’s all yours now.”

That caused both you and Jisung to chuckle, and you watched as she walked past him and disappeared from view. 

You finally took your first steps further into the house, stopping when you reached your husband. Once you were within arms-reach, you fell into him and let out a long, tired sigh. He caught you easily, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close to his chest. As you closed your eyes to relish in his warmth and finally being home, he pressed his cheek to the top of your head and rubbed your back soothingly. 

“Hi, my love,” he murmured softly. 

“Hi, babe,” you murmured back. 

“Long day, hm?” 

“That’s one way to put it.”

Today was probably one of the worst days you’d had in a while. Since your focus within social work was the foster system, a lot of the kids you worked with were from broken homes and had histories of abuse and violence in their lives. It was very hard for you at the beginning because you couldn’t figure out how to take emotion out of it, but with the help of your supervisor you learned how to deal with everything. But, clearly, as Jisung had pointed out just four days ago, you had yet to master it. It was difficult—having to deal with children who were so broken, as it made you feel so small and unsure of your capabilities. 

It had been one of those days where your skill had come into question with one of your older clients. She was exactly Dami’s age; her mother was an addict and her father had never been in the picture. She’d been in and out of the system for ten years, sent to live in foster homes that were as terrible as her childhood house. You were finally able to get her into a placement with a good couple just a few months ago. The last time you visited her, things had been going really well, and you could even see the hope come back in her eyes. That was until today. When you got into the office, you received a call from her foster mother informing you that she (the child) had run away. It had taken everything in you not to cry. She was finally getting her break, but then something had triggered her to run. You’d spent the whole day calling her cell and going to all the places you knew she frequented. Finally, you found her at a gas station downtown, but it had taken you a while to convince her to go back with you to her foster parents’ house. 

It really took its toll on you. The hardest clients were the older ones because they were so convinced that they were unlovable and unwanted from years of being neglected. To hear them express their feelings—which, in itself, was beyond rare—was heartbreaking because you couldn’t fathom how horrible their past must have been for them to hate themselves so much. Those stories were triggering for you because you wondered whether the way you treated Dami had caused her to truly hate you and herself. It was unfair for you to always compare your clients to her, but sometimes you couldn’t help it. You didn’t want her to end up feeling the same way despite growing up in a completely different environment. 

“I made you a plate,” Jisung told you softly, making no move to let go because he knew just how much you needed to hold onto him. 

You felt an overwhelming amount of love for him at that moment. “Thank you,” you mumbled into his chest. 

“Daddy, where is Mommy—? Oh! You’re home, Mommy!” Dayeon’s confused then excited voice reached your ears. 

Taking that as your cue to let go, you pulled away from Jisung’s arms and found your youngest looking at you with a mixture of excitement and concern. 

“Hi, baby!” you greeted. 

“Hi, Mommy,” Dayeon said, before asking, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yes, I’m okay. I just had a very long day.”

She skipped over to give you a hug. “You came home so late today!” she complained. 

“I know, I’m sorry, baby,” you wrapped your arms around her and swayed her side to side before pulling back and kissing her soft cheek. “Tell me about your day.”

“First, we need to get Mommy out of the front entrance and fed,” Jisung said, looking at you pointedly. 

“Okay,” you agreed, allowing him to give you Princess Treatment™. 

As you finally ventured into the kitchen-slash-living room, Dayeon blabbered about her day, telling you everything that happened from the moment she got to school to the moment you got home. You hated to say it, but you were only half-listening. Your brain had reached its capacity right after you’d returned your client to her foster home. After that, even while you were completing the paperwork, your brain had officially signed off for the night. The only reason why you had paid attention to Dami was because she almost never came to you for advice. Dayeon, on the other hand, was very much glued to you (which was beyond sweet on most days, but just happened to be bothersome on long days like today). 

Doha was lounging on the sofa, watching TV, with Dami sitting adjacent to him on one of the arm chairs, tapping away on her phone with a furrow between her brows. The sight did not faze you, but the sudden reminder of the advice you gave her caused you to worry if it had been bad. If it was, then everything would become your fault, and you would be renamed the Worst Mother Ever for the second time this week. It wouldn’t be a new record, but it would still sting. 

So…maybe you should be listening to Dayeon right now. 

“—and then Sumi-unnie came by to give us the plate back!”

You felt your heart constrict upon hearing that. “What?”

“Remember, we made them a cake? They gave us the plate the cake was on.” Dayeon explained innocently just as Jisung set down a plate of food in front of you on the table. 

You looked at him with a distracted smile. “Thank you, babe,” you said, before taking a look at the food. “Did you make this today?” 

He nodded proudly. “Yes. I made your favourite.”

You didn’t consider yourself to be a chef, but you knew how to cook. Jisung, on the other hand, was gifted with the ability to make anything and everything. If he didn’t know how to make a certain dish, he would search up the recipe and get it right on the first try. It was one of the many reasons you loved him, but sometimes you grew envious of this skill of his, especially when he went the extra mile to make the presentation pretty. Tonight, he made a pasta bake with creamy chicken and a refreshing salad. 

The first time Jisung cooked for you, it had been this very pasta bake with chicken, and you loved it. Ever since then, whenever you had a long day or weren’t feeling your best, he would make this for you. It was such a sweet thing he did, on top of the countless other things he did for you. 

“It looks delicious, babe,” you told him earnestly as he slipped into the seat adjacent to you. 

He grinned. “Thanks. Now eat. Please.”

You leaned over to press a kiss to his lips before finally digging in. 

“Mommy, I was talking to you!” Dayeon complained as you moaned in delight around your first bite.

Jisung smiled at both your reaction and Dayeon’s pouting face. “Come here, Princess,” he said, pulling her gently by the arm until she was sitting on his lap. “Mommy has had a long day, okay? Let her eat in peace.”

“Okay…” she sighed dramatically, causing you to chuckle. 

“Sorry, baby,” you said with a small frown. Don’t let the mom guilt get you! You do deserve to eat in peace!!!! “Babe,” you looked at Jisung, “this is so good. It gets better every time you make it.”

A light flush spread across his cheeks. “I’m glad, my love.”

“You guys are so mushy, it’s gross,” Dami said, suddenly joining you at the table. 

“Sorry not sorry,” Jisung said, causing her to cringe. 

Doha perked up from the sofa. “Oh—what? Mom’s home?”

“She’s been home for, like, so long,” Dami told him. 

“Oh, sorry,” he said, getting up and walking directly to you to greet you with a kiss on the head. “Hi, Mom.”

You grinned at him. “Hi, honey.”

He sat down next to Dami, opposite you. “Long day? You haven’t come home this late in a while.”

You nodded, washing down the creaminess with a glass of water Jisung had brought for you. “Yes—a very long day. But it ended on a good note, which is all that matters.”

Dami looked at you intently, but you were more confused as to why they were all suddenly sitting with you to give it much thought.

“That’s good, then,” she said, causing you to quirk an eyebrow. “That it ended well,” she clarified. 

“Oh, yes,” you agreed immediately, shaking your head. “Very good, actually. Anyway…” You wanted to clear your mind of today’s events, “tell me about your day.”

Doha started to recall a supposedly hilarious thing that had happened in his gym class when Dayeon interrupted him, “Daddy, you said to let Mommy eat in peace! Why does Oppa get to talk, and I don’t?!”

You and Jisung shared an amused look. While Dayeon was still young, she didn’t have as many tantrums as Dami. However, when she did, they were almost never pleasant. 

“Sorry, Princess,” Jisung said, matching her pout, “I didn’t realize your siblings were joining us at the table.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, causing Dami to roll her eyes. “That’s not fair!” 

“You interrupted Doha,” Dami said, but he quickly intervened before anyone got yelled at. 

“It’s fine,” he told her before looking at Dayeon, “What did you want to tell Mom?”

You continued to eat, feeling warmth stir in your chest at how kind-hearted Doha was. He really did suffer from Middle Child Syndrome, but never let it affect his attitude. He had always been positive, and you applauded him for it. 

“I was saying,” Dayeon sighed very dramatically, causing you to chuckle, “that Sumi-unnie came by to give back the plate.”

“Oh, yes…” you murmured around your pasta. 

It seemed as if both Doha and Dami wanted to say something, but they held back, knowing that Dayeon would start screaming if they didn’t let her speak. 

“They told me to tell you that the cake was delicious!” she exclaimed, now back to her usual, bubbly self. “We should make it again, Mommy. I want to taste it myself.”

“All right, baby, we can make it again,” you promised her, although your mind was stuck on the first word she said: they. Did that mean Sumi had come with someone else? 

It seemed as if Jisung had read your mind. He looked at you carefully, before saying, “Sumi came with her mother.” 

Upon hearing that, it felt as if your heart had lurched into your throat. That meant that she had planned to come to your house on purpose. It was a calculated move on her part to wait an entire week—or maybe that’s how long it really took them to finish the cake—to return it. You wondered if she took notice of which car was yours; you and Jisung left both of your cars on the driveway, so she could’ve seen which one you got into and timed it so that she didn’t have to see you. However…that all seemed like way too much work, especially when the two of you hadn’t seen each other in two decades. There was no reason for her to be that petty, unless she thought it was awkward how you left her house in a rush after seeing Jeno. 

“Mom?” Doha said, bringing you back to your kitchen. 

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head so you could refocus your attention on your children.

“Sumi-unnie’s mom is so pretty, Mommy!” Dayeon gushed, causing you to feel sick suddenly. “She looks like a supermodel.”

Jisung was about to intervene upon seeing the look on your face when Dami said, “I answered the door, Mom, and she thought I was you.”

Ever since Dami was a toddler, you had countless people telling you how much she resembled you. The two of you were like twins—which was fitting in both looks and personality. You loved hearing it, as you’d always wanted a daughter who you could see yourself in. However, after hearing Dami’s supposedly harmless comment, you wished she had taken after Jisung. You could only imagine what had happened when Dami opened the door for Sumi and her mother. What if she had spilled her guts out to Dami, thinking she was you? That would have been a nightmare in itself. 

“Oh, wow,” you breathed out, setting your fork down on your plate before you dropped it. “We really are twins, huh?”

Dami hated being called that as of late. She would always scrunch up her nose in disgust, as if it was an insult to be called her mother’s look-alike. Now, though, she just seemed genuinely curious as to who this mystery woman was. 

“Yeah,” she agreed. “But, how does she know you?”

“Let’s let Mom finish her dinner before we start to ambush her with questions,” Jisung finally said, not wanting to put you in an even more uncomfortable position. Holding onto Dayeon, he stood up from the table and urged the older two to follow suit. “Come on.” 

“Seriously?” Doha asked, appearing very confused. 

“Yes, I’m serious,” Jisung told him with a firm look. “She’s had a very tiring day, all right? Go watch TV.”

Doha shared a look with Dami before shrugging. “Okay, fine.”

Dami looked at you wordlessly before trudging after her brother. That was very uncommon—her leaving the table without complaining. She probably saw the exhaustion in your face and thought to leave you alone. After all, it wasn’t every day that you came home past six. 

Once all the kids were situated in the living room, you finally let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

None of this could be real. It truly couldn’t. You thought you’d put all of it behind you all those years ago, but clearly that wasn’t the case. Obviously you’d somehow pissed off the universe because after twenty-four years of never crossing paths with her, she was now your neighbour. She came up to your porch, knocked on the door, and told your eldest daughter that she looked like you. That told you everything you needed to know: she wasn’t as crazy as you about this whole thing. If she was, then she would’ve sent her daughter alone to return the plate. You wanted to scream. Why were you making this into a bigger deal than it ought to be? 

Chapter Text

Loud cheers filled your ears, the stench of hot dogs nauseated you, yet all you could focus on was the impending reunion between you and a certain neighbour. You were brought back to the high school’s bleachers, sitting with Chenle and Yizhou, and Sungchan and Minjeong, for another one of Dami and Choyeon’s soccer games. The kids were, as per usual, sitting on the bench below yours, holding up their cardboard sign for Dami and hollering excitedly at her energy today. You tried your best to focus on the game, especially with how well your daughter was playing, but the sight of Sua and Sumi sitting with your kids made the thought of reuniting with their mother more nauseating than the hot dogs for sale. If she could just arrive already and rip off the bandaid, then you could go back to forgetting about her existence and finally enjoy your daughter’s game.  

Jisung’s hand was tightly intertwined with yours; it had been ever since you caught sight of Sua for the first time. Seeing her had momentarily blindsighted you, as you hadn’t gotten a good look at her on the day you yelled after Juyeon’s car. Much like how Dami resembled you, Sua resembled her mother. It was like a curse—one that followed both you and Sua’s mother. You wondered if the sight of Dami had startled her as much as the sight of Sua did you. Nevertheless, Jisung had wordlessly grasped your hand and pressed a reassuring kiss to your temple.

Minjeong sat to your right, rubbing your back every so often to soothe your nerves. It didn’t help that Sungchan was twisting his neck every which way to see if Jeno and his wife had showed up. He could be such a ditz, which was endearing most times but not today. 

The one thing you focused on besides the unnamed woman was the interaction between Sua and Juyeon, who actually showed up on time to watch the match. The kids were sitting in a line on the bench below yours in the following order: Liam, Dayeon, Sumi, Doha, Juyeon, Sua, Isaac. The girls had arrived a bit later than the rest of you, so when you saw Juyeon ask Isaac to make room for Sua, you immediately became suspicious. You’d noticed the way he angled his body towards her, even when he was watching the game, and how his arrogant expression was nowhere to be found when conversing with her. It was weird, and you didn’t like it one bit. Even if you didn’t want him dating Dami, you didn’t want him to entertain the idea of talking to another girl. If Dami had her eyes on him, then there was no reason for him to look elsewhere. 

“Oh, Y/N!” Sungchan whisper-hissed, causing you to look over at him in question. 

He not so subtly pointed to the bottom of the bleachers and Minjeong quickly smacked down his arm. “Don’t be so obvious!” she whispered. 

You followed his line of direction and, with a heart stopping pause in everything—your literal heart, the game, the world—you finally saw her. 

Life had to be unfair. Whatever god you believed in was playing a very evil, cruel trick on you. How could she look almost the exact same after so many years? It was as if you were looking at her nineteen year old self again: pale skin bright in the evening light, long black hair cascading down her back, and piercing brown eyes looking right back at you. It wasn’t fair. 

All you could think about besides her obvious beauty was the last time you saw her. There had been a lot of tears and screaming, the latter mostly on your part. You’d never thought that she would be the one to break your heart, especially when you’d been together for three long years, but that was what the whole argument had been about. She couldn’t do it anymore: be with you. It was just too hard, she had said. Her parents didn’t approve and she couldn’t turn her back on them. She didn’t want to hurt you, but that was exactly what she did. Then, not even two months later, you found out that she was dating again. It just so happened to be one of your friends—ex-friend, as he sided with her in the aftermath of The Breakup: Jeno Lee. It was a betrayal you had never felt before. At the time, you couldn’t understand how she could move on so quickly, and how Jeno could do something like that to you. But, after a while, you realized that he’d had feelings for her the entire time, and was only sitting on the sidelines because he didn’t want there to be any drama. As for her lack of consideration for you, you still didn’t and couldn’t understand it. It had taken you a while to agree to go out with Jisung, since it had been hard to picture yourself with someone else. 

The feeling of Jisung squeezing your hand brought you back to the present. 

You peered at him. The sight of the reassuring smile on his face made your heart rate slow down. Thank goodness for him. 

There was some commotion from the bench below yours, so you broke eye contact with Jisung and looked over. Sumi and Sua were shuffling through to hug their parents; Doha watched the interaction before glancing back at you. He was too aware of everything and you disliked it. He should be busy ignoring you like other fourteen year old boys did with their mothers; instead, he was attentive and cared too much about you. It was sweet, but you wanted today to be one of the days where he suddenly decided that your existence embarrassed him. The last thing you wanted was for him to watch what was going to be a very uncomfortable interaction between you and Sumi and Sua’s parents. 

Minjeong had your back, however. She leaned forward to address the parents, “Excuse me, could you sit down? We’re trying to—” when they looked at her, she cut herself off and put on a very convincing shocked expression. “Oh my god! Jeno Lee? No…it can’t be…Jimin Yu?” 

You mentally applauded her acting. It would have been much more awkward to say hi if they just looked up and saw you. However, you didn’t know whether it came across as convincing to them. 

Sumi and Sua were still standing, both of them watching for your reaction to seeing their parents in the flesh. You didn’t want to give them anything to question, so you maintained a neutral expression, even if it took everything in you not to run away. 

“Wow,” Jeno said, shaking his head in slight amazement, “Minjeong? It’s been forever.”

“Yes, it has been!” she agreed, before motioning to Sungchan. “Do you remember Sungchan, my husband?”

Both Jeno and Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“Wow, of course,” Jimin said, her deep voice still the same after all these years. “I had no idea you guys got married. That’s…that’s amazing.”

Sungchan stood up, towering over both of them with his natural height and the advantage of being on a bench above them. “Good to see you both again,” he said, offering his hand to Jeno, who shook it with a kind smile. “But, yeah, we’ve been together twenty-five years. Crazy, isn’t it?”

Jimin nodded, and you could tell she was trying her very best not to look at you. “It is, yes. Congratulations.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Sungchan said, not trying to hide his distaste for the woman as he sat down again.

“I hear your family moved in across the street from Y/N and Jisung,” Minjeong said, maintaining a friendly tone. 

That finally caused Jimin to look at you. She had a hard time coming up with a smile and, once she managed to produce one, it seemed very painful. Maybe this sudden reunion was as hard for her as it was for you. You doubted it, though. She probably felt burdened to see you again, especially with the way she ended things all those years ago. 

“Yes, that’s right,” Jeno answered when Jimin took too long to say something. “Hi, again, Y/N.”

You offered a tight, close-lipped smile. “Hi, Jeno. Have you met my husband, Jisung?” 

They looked at Jisung in unison.

“I met Jimin the other day,” Jisung said, still holding onto your hand. “It’s nice to see you again. I haven’t met—Jeno, was it?”

He nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Nice to meet you, Jisung.”

“You too.”

Jimin cleared her throat, looking at you again. “It’s…it’s uncanny how much your eldest daughter looks like you, Y/N,” she said.

Just hearing her say your name made you want to erupt. You couldn’t do this, it was way too hard, but Doha was still watching you and you couldn’t let him see you fall apart. Not like this, and especially not at a high school soccer game. 

“I could say the same for your daughter Sua,” you replied, motioning to the girl with a soft smile. “Funny how that works, hm?”

“Yeah, right,” she agreed, and you could almost see a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Oh, thank you for the cake, by the way. It was a shame I missed you the other day when I came by with Sumi.”

You just nodded, not knowing what else you could do. “No worries,” you said, referring to both the cake and the latter statement. 

“Okay, well…” Jeno took the cue to leave. “It was nice seeing you guys! We’re going to find some place to sit.”

“Great, see you,” Jisung said with a smile; it was obvious that he wanted them to leave as well, especially when Jimin’s gaze on your face never wavered. 

“Mom, Dad—we’re going to stay here,” Sumi told them. 

Jimin finally looked away, turning to her children who looked very hesitant for their response. It was as obvious to Chenle and Yizhou as it was to them that this entire conversation was beyond awkward. The last thing they wanted was for the friction between their parents and you and Jisung to get in between their blossoming friendships with your kids. 

“Okay, sweetie,” Jimin said, causing both of them to smile in relief. “We’ll come and find you once the game is over.”

With that, Jeno took Jimin’s hand in his and led her away to the other side of the bleachers—far away from you. 

“Jesus,” Minjeong breathed out once they were out of earshot. “That wasn’t weird at all.”

“Don’t say anything right now,” you warned her, motioning to the kids. 

“Okay, okay,” she nodded. “We’ll debrief later.” 

With that, Sumi and Sua took their seats, Doha turned around, and you rested your head on Jisung’s shoulder—all of you refocusing on the game. 

—

“There are our superstars!” Chenle cheered once Dami and Choyeon finally made their way over to the large group. 

Today they were wearing their white uniforms with yellow lettering; Dami’s hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a headband that matched her socks. She lifted her shirt to wipe at the sweat on her face, exposing her midriff for everyone—particularly Juyeon—to drool over. You didn’t have it in yourself to make a comment; you were so caught up in the whole Jimin thing that the last thing you wanted was to start any drama. Instead, you waited until she reached you to congratulate her on her win. 

“You did so great, honey!”

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, but her gaze was focused on something else behind you. 

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Juyeon and Sua laughing together. The sight irritated you to no extent, so you couldn’t even imagine how Dami felt. All you wanted to do at that moment was whack Juyeon upside the head and tell him that he was wasting his time on the wrong girl. It was ironic that you were angry with him for using his charm on Dami at her last soccer game. You just wanted her to be happy, and you knew that wouldn’t happen if he kept giving Sua all of his attention. 

Before you could do anything, Isaac appeared and slung his arm around Dami’s shoulders. “You killed it out there!” he told her with a grin. “When I see you on the field, I see the next Jo Siyun!”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m being so honest, you don’t even know!” he quipped, leading her over to Juyeon and Sua and purposely interrupting their conversation. “Yo, how great was Dami tonight?!”

A smile spread across your lips at that. You could always count on Chenle and Yizhou’s son to come to the rescue. He was one of the very few people who really understood Dami, which was why you didn’t understand why she didn’t have a crush on him. Life would be so much easier if that was the case…(maybe not for Isaac, but for you; having Juyeon as your future son-in-law did not seem appealing whatsoever). 

“Are we hitting up Romeo’s?” Yizhou asked, joining you with her arm linked through Chenle’s and Jisung trailing behind. 

“Shall we?” Jisung asked with a smile, peering down at you. 

You matched his smile. “Let’s do it!”

It was always a treat to get everyone together, even if it was at the expense of one of your kids’ extracurricular activities. There had once been a time where all of the couples would go out every weekend, but that slowly stopped once your families started growing. The only ones who had to actually schedule a time and a place were Shotaro and Renjun, since they lived the farthest and were childless.

“Jeong-Jeong!” Chenle called out, catching both Minjeong and Sungchan’s attention; they were chatting it up with the little ones, who were bent over at the waist, laughing to their heart’s content. “Romeo’s?”

As if they rehearsed it, Minjeong and Sungchan responded by sending a thumbs up. That just caused Dayeon and Liam to burst into another round of giggles, causing you to chuckle yourself. They were just the cutest; you couldn’t imagine the day where they become broody teenagers and steal the last sliver of happiness from your lives… just kidding! 

“Perfect!” Yizhou gushed. “We’ll have to get that chocolate lava cake again.”

You nodded in agreement, grinning. “Oh, hell yeah. I’m not leaving without eating that.”

“You ladies and your sweet treats,” Jisung chuckled, finding your hand easily and linking your fingers together. 

You melted into his side like it was second nature. “As a wise woman once said, dessert goes to the heart,” you started, looking over to Yizhou, who finished, “not the stomach.”

That caused the four of you to burst into a round of laughter. 

When you started hanging out with Jisung in your fourth year, it often meant hanging out with Chenle, Yizhou, and her best friend Ellie. Most of your hangouts would start by Yizhou texting in the group chat if anyone wanted to get a sweet treat, where you were always the first person to agree. The five of you would squeeze into Chenle’s shiny BMW and venture off to different dessert spots around London (Ontario). It was those outings that helped you distract yourself from The Breakup. (Little did you all know that the reason why Yizhou initiated such hangouts were so she could see Chenle, and so she could help Jisung win you over. Ellie was just there to see all the unrequited feelings eventually blossom into something.) 

“I miss those days,” Chenle sighed, appearing nostalgic. “Those were the days we could eat ice cream every night and never gain any weight.”

Jisung chuckled. “That was the life.”

“Honestly,” you agreed with a hum. 

“Remember those times? I would not so subtly flirt with Chenle, and he would get so red!” Yizhou recalled, peering up at her husband with a bright grin. 

He matched her grin. “I couldn’t believe that someone as beautiful as you would flirt with me so openly,” he told her. “I still can’t believe it.”

You and Jisung cooed. “So cute!”

Yizhou kissed Chenle’s cheek, causing his face to go beet red just like when he was twenty with chocolate ice cream lining his lips. “LeLe’s my cutie,” she giggled, tightening her hold on his arm.

“And you’re mine,” he replied, causing her to almost fold. 

“Speaking of puppy love—” Jisung subtly pointed to where the kids were standing. 

You followed his gaze and saw the group of the older kids chatting, but he was pointing just off to the left. Doha and Sumi were a few feet away from the older kids, lost in their own world. The sight warmed your heart—Doha seemed to be very interested in whatever Sumi had to say, as he didn’t take his eyes off her the whole time. But, upon remembering whose daughter she was, you immediately froze. There was no way in hell your son was allowed to get involved with Jimin’s daughter, no matter how pretty or kind she was. 

“Ooh, looks like you two have something to look out for!” Yizhou exclaimed. 

“Yeah…we’ll see about that,” you mumbled. 

Minjeong and Sungchan finally made their way over. 

“Your babies are the sweetest, my goodness!” Minjeong gushed. “I just want to eat them.”

Sungchan nodded in agreement. “No, same. I forgot how cute they are at that age.”

“They are cute,” you agreed with a chuckle. 

“I never understood why you didn’t have more kids after the twins,” Chenle said. He’d always wanted four kids, but Yizhou had the final say: it’s my body doing all the work, LeLe! “You guys are so great with them.”

Sungchan just pointed his finger at Minjeong, who hit him playfully. 

“I don’t expect you men to understand,” she said, causing Jisung to snort, “but being pregnant is super uncomfortable! I could barely survive when I was expecting the twins. Don’t get me started on labour—with twins ! It was like being tortured but on crack.”

Jisung, Chenle and Sungchan grimaced. 

“That’s all that needs to be said, honestly,” Yizhou said with a nod. “It takes a toll on the body.”

“Oh, it totally does,” you agreed. “Even after you give birth.”

“Ew, why are you talking about giving birth?” Dami asked, popping out of nowhere with Choyeon by her side. 

“No reason,” Sungchan answered, reaching both hands out to ruffle the girls’ hair playfully. “We’re going to Romeo’s. Tell the other kids so we can head out.”

Choyeon lit up. “Yay! Should we invite Sua and Sumi, too?”

You immediately sent Minjeong a Look. 

“Oh…” She didn’t know what to say. “I don’t—”

“Look, their parents are coming over right now! Let’s ask!”

You looked over and saw Jimin and Jeno approaching your circle with slight hesitation. 

“Hi, again,” Jeno chuckled. “We’re just going to grab the girls and head out.”

Before any of you could stop Choyeon, she blurted out, “We’re going to Romeo’s for a celebratory dinner. Do you want to join us?”

You pursed your lips into a thin line, squeezing Jisung’s hand as a way to ground yourself. 

Jimin was already looking at you, but you did yourself a favour by ignoring her. If you just ignored her, she would eventually just go away, right? 

“Oh…” Jeno looked over at Jimin with uncertainty, before addressing Choyeon, “That’s so kind of you, dear, but—”

“Hey! What are you guys talking about?” Sua joined the growing circle of people with Juyeon and Isaac in tow. 

“We’re all going to Romeo’s for dinner, and I asked your parents to bring you and Sumi,” Choyeon said. 

You felt your chest tighten. Why did Minjeong and Sungchan’s daughter have to be so nice? Even Dami appeared pissed off by Choyeon inviting the Lees. You knew it was due to the fact that she didn’t want Juyeon to spend any more time with Sua, but you just pretended she was annoyed on your behalf. It made you feel a little better, until you realized you were projecting your feelings onto a fifteen year old. You’d never felt so pathetic until right then. 

“Oh my god—Mom, Dad, can we go?!” Sua asked, appearing thoroughly excited. 

Jimin and Jeno were at a loss for words. It was obvious that neither of them wanted to go—and for good reason, considering none of the other adults were the biggest fans of them—but they couldn’t explain that to the kids. You didn’t know what they were going to do or say to try and get themselves out of going, but they were doing a bad job so far. 

“Uh, hello?!” Sua said, furrowing her eyebrows together as she looked between her parents before averting her gaze over to you and Jisung. You tried not to look at her either because she reminded you too much of the Jimin you once dated. 

“Sua, tone," Jeno clicked his tongue. 

“Okay, sorry. I’m asking you a question, and neither of you are answering,” she explained. 

“Just forget it, we can all go another time,” Dami muttered. “Mom, can we go home now?”

“What’s your problem?” Juyeon asked rather rudely. 

“Watch it,” you snapped at him. 

“Okay…what is going on?” Minjeong asked, holding up her hands to get everyone to calm down. “Let’s just go for dessert. How about that?”

You gave her a hard look, before peering up at Jisung. He was busy giving Juyeon the stink eye for the way he spoke to Dami. 

“Yes, that’s fine,” Yizhou agreed, causing you to let out an exasperated breath. Why were both of your friends totally betraying you right now? “I need my sweet treat, or else I’ll go insane.”

Chenle laughed. “We don’t need that, do we?” 

“Nope!” she giggled, before looking over at Jimin and Jeno. “Plus, it’ll be…nice to get to know Y/N and Jisung’s new neighbours.” 

You couldn’t help but smile sarcastically. “Nice,” you repeated, finally looking at Jimin. “Right.”

She only pursed her lips together, looking away after a few seconds. 

Minjeong clapped her hands together and let out nervous laughter, trying to diffuse the tension. “Okay, it’s settled!” she said. “Let’s head to the cars. You guys know where Romeo’s is, right?”

“It’s the one on Main and King,” Jisung informed Jimin and Jeno. 

“Right, thanks,” Jeno nodded. “Sua, go get Sumi, we’ll leave now.”

“Oh, actually, I have my car here,” Juyeon said, looking down at Sua. “I usually drive my sister, Isaac and Dami around. Do you wanna ride with us?”

You clenched your jaw before looking over at Dami. She was absolutely seething. It was only a matter of time before she exploded. You didn’t want to tell her I told you so for wanting to dig into your past, but her whole detective bit had led to this. 

“Can I?” Sua looked to her parents. 

“Uh, sure,” Jimin nodded. “We’ll take Sumi. See you all there.”

With that, she and Jeno quickly left, not wanting to spend more unnecessary time with all of you. You waited until all the older kids left to curse out your friends. 

“What the actual fuck?!” 

“I’m sorry, please don’t kill me!” Minjeong immediately begged. 

“I won’t have to because Sungchan will first!” you huffed, having taken notice of how pissed off he had been when Minjeong took matters into her own hands. 

“Sorry, baby, but that was such a bitch move,” he told her. 

Chenle tried to get everyone to calm down. “Okay, come on,” he interjected, “let’s not gang up on each other.”

“He’s right,” Jisung nodded. 

You let go of his hand, giving him a pointed look. “Really?” you grimaced, before mocking him, “It’s the one on Main and King.” 

He tilted his head to the side, sighing. “What else was I supposed to do, my love? Tell them they were unwelcome in front of all the kids?”

“Yes, actually,” you said. 

“You can’t be serious,” he responded. 

“No, you couldn’t have said that,” you relented. “But I’m still pissed off at all of you. Besides Chenle and Sungchan.”

Yizhou perked up. “What? Me too?”

“I need my sweet treat!” you mimicked with an eye roll. “Whatever. Let’s just go.”

May God give you all the patience left in this world to get through the night. 

Chapter Text

Cue the most awkward dessert-run to ever exist. 

At one table sat the kids. 

Dami was visibly moody and even Isaac couldn’t bring her out of her funk this time around. You purposely steered her to the opposite end of the table, away from Dayeon and Liam, so their chatter wouldn’t annoy her and end in disaster. However, it meant that she had to deal with looking at Juyeon chatting up Sua for the entire outing, which only made her angrier. Choyeon was quite oblivious as to why her best friend was so upset, considering they’d just won another match against one of their biggest rival schools, but opted not to ask about it. Instead, she busied herself with Isaac and inserted herself into Juyeon and Sua’s conversation. 

At the other table sat the adults. 

You sat farthest away from Jimin and Jeno despite getting to Romeo’s right after them. The entrance alone had been beyond awkward because you told Jisung to wait just a few more minutes until Minjeong and Sungchan arrived, but Dayeon was set on getting out of the car ASAP. It had worked out for Doha and Sumi, however, as they had naturally gravitated toward each other after getting out of the cars. It was cute, but not cute enough to warrant your blessing. You would allow them to be friends but that would be the extent of their relationship. Nothing more, and nothing less. 

You and Jisung sat on the left side of the table, while Jimin and Jeno sat on the right. The others filled the space accordingly, with Sungchan sitting closer to the two of you, as he was still not on board with this whole extended invitation. He’d sent you a private text message on the way over: just bc their kids are becoming friends w ours doesnt mean we can hand out invites to them like tf???? You’d responded with the words I FUCKING KNOW RIGHT . 

What you couldn’t wrap your head around was the fact that Minjeong was the one being so friendly to Jimin and Jeno. While Jisung had entered your life in the aftermath of The Breakup, Minjeong had been there from the start of your relationship with Jimin. She had seen the shy glances, the not-so-secret smiles the two of you exchanged when you thought no one else was watching, and the incredible amount of sexual tension that existed from day one. She had also known Jeno from the start, as not only was he Jimin’s friend but he also happened to be a Residence Soph* along with Jimin. Minjeong had also seen the immediate aftereffects of The Breakup. She had been there to wipe the tears, clean your sheets, and help you eat countless pints of ice cream. She had personally gone to Jimin’s parent’s house to give her a piece of her mind when she and Shotaro had no idea what else to do to help you; that was when she found out about Jimin and Jeno. 

*Residence Soph : Western’s sophomore students who lived on-campus with the freshmen to guide them throughout their first year. Jimin was your floor’s female Soph, and Jeno the male Soph of the floor below yours.

Minjeong was currently chatting it up with Jimin and Jeno, confusing and slightly angering you to no extent. You couldn’t help but doubt your feelings, however. Was it extremely childish to still care about the way Jimin broke up with you all those years ago? You knew the answer deep down, but the fact that Jimin was acting the same didn’t make you feel as pathetic. 

“So, tell me, where did you guys disappear to?” Minjeong asked. “I heard you went to the States for a while.”

“Oh, yeah, we lived in Chicago for about twelve years,” Jeno nodded. “One of our friends connected me with his friend who owns a consulting company. I worked with him for a while before deciding that Canada is just a better fit for our family.”

Yizhou made a noise of understanding. “Do your parents live here?”

“Yes, that was the biggest reason why we decided to come back,” he answered, looking over at Jimin. 

She cleared her throat before speaking, “We wanted the girls to have a better relationship with their grandparents. Our jobs keep us so busy, so we would visit only a couple times a year.”

That made sense to you, considering how close Jimin was to her parents. How quick did they approve of her and Jeno’s relationship? You just wanted know why—

“Why Mississauga?” Jisung wondered. 

“My parents are in Hamilton, and Jimin’s are in Etobicoke, so we thought to be in the middle,” Jeno said. 

“Ah, I see,” Jisung hummed, placing your intertwined fingers on his lap. 

“What a…coincidence that you ended up moving into Y/N’s neighbourhood,” Sungchan commented with a close-lipped smile. 

Jimin’s gaze fell onto you. “Yeah,” she said, voice oddly soft. “What are the odds?”

You looked away, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden. Why did she look at you like that, and use that tone? Maybe you were just imagining it. 

“Anyway, what do you do for work, Jimin?” Chenle swiftly switched the subject. “I’m assuming from your story, Jeno, that you’re a consultant.”

Jeno chuckled. “Yes, that’s right. I work at BCG in Toronto.”

“Wow, that’s impressive,” Yizhou said with her eyebrows raised. 

“Ah, thank you,” he smiled, before looking over at Jimin. 

“Oh, right,” it seemed that she forgot Chenle had asked her a question, “I work at the University of Toronto as a Communications Officer for their medical department.”

You did not expect that. At all. 

She’d majored in Media, Information and Technology (MIT), and you’d always been curious as to why she’d picked that program. She had been proud of it, though, never letting the engineering or science students get to her with their snobby noses turned up. Back then, she was never particularly concerned about what the future held. I have so much time to worry about working. I’m going to enjoy my life as it is. That was what she would say to you, or literally anyone, whenever she was asked about what her plans were. It was one of the things you secretly envied about her: the fact that she never worried. Maybe it was because you breezed by in high school by dumb luck, but it felt like you had no time left to fuck around once you reached university. Essays and clinics caught you by the throat and put so much pressure that it felt hard to breathe on most days. While Minjeong and Shotaro had been your designated study buddies, Jimin was your de-stressor. Those de-stressing sessions involved socks on doorknobs and even less clothing in the bedroom, but it was the one way for you to completely let loose. 

You snapped out of your thoughts, wondering how Jimin’s job had led you to think about your sex life with her. You could feel your heart beating a bit too fast, and you could only hope that it didn’t show on your face, especially when Jisung was asking Jimin what her responsibilities entailed. 

As Jimin explained what her day-to-day consisted of, you tried to dispel the memories from your mind. If anyone was able to see what you were thinking about, they’d think you had gone crazy. You were slowly convincing yourself that you were. 

“Wow, that’s really interesting,” Jisung told her genuinely. 

“Thanks,” she replied, offering him a small smile. “So…how did you meet Y/N?”

Nobody seemed to be too surprised by the question; they knew it had been coming from the moment you introduced Jimin and Jeno to Jisung on the bleachers. The only one who didn’t expect it was Jeno. His eyebrows raised in a mixture of surprise and confusion as he glanced at Jimin. You wondered if she already knew the story and just wanted to hear it from Jisung himself. 

“It’s such a cute story!” Yizhou gushed excitedly. 

A small smile was brought to your lips at the thought of your first meeting. As Jisung recounted the story out loud, you replayed the memories in your head. 

It had been about a month and a half since Jimin broke up with you, and Shotaro and Minjeong were at their wits end. They had no idea what to do to help you, as they had tried everything—late night runs to Marble Slab creamery, suggestions to egg her house (to which you denied), movie nights, and a never-ending amount of sleepovers in your room (the three of you lived together, anyway). Nothing seemed to help, however. Before they went searching for Jimin, Shotaro had the idea to get you out of the house for a change in scenery. After lots of convincing, you finally gave in, knowing that it would be good for you to actually bask in the daylight. 

The two of them took you to a cute cafe in downtown London. It was big, spacious, and incredibly modern. There were comfortable sofas on one side, with board games piled up on the shelves, and high tables with stools on the other. It was really cute, and even you recognized that. You just didn’t understand why Shotaro and Minjeong had hidden such a cute study spot from you for so long. By the time the three of you got to the front to order, the cashier’s eyes flickered with recognition upon seeing Shotaro. 

“Oh, hi, Shotaro!” he greeted, his voice deeper than you expected but warm nonetheless. 

Shotaro didn’t seem too surprised to see the other there. “Hey!” he smiled. “How are you?”

As the two exchanged small talk, you couldn’t help but wonder who the boy was. He was incredibly cute, with fluffy hair, big brown eyes, and an endearing yet shy smile that seemed to lift some of the tension from your head. Athough he was much taller than you, Shotaro, and Minjeong, it seemed as if he was trying to make himself smaller with the way he was standing. Nonetheless, he seemed quite comfortable in his uniform, which consisted of black jeans, a crisp white button-up, and a brown apron on top. The name-tag attached to the apron read Jisung, which surprised you. Apart from you and your friends, you had yet to meet a Canadian-born Korean who kept their Korean name instead of adopting a westernized one. 

“You’ve met Minjeong,” Shotaro had said, causing Jisung to greet her, “and this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Jisung.”

You tried with all of your might to muster up a smile. It was very hard, considering you were so dramatic to think you’d never be happy again. “Hi,” you said quietly. 

Jisung’s smile held warmth. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

“Do you remember Chenle?” Shotaro asked you, referring to his lifelong Camp friend who lived in Ottawa; Chenle also attended Western University. “He and Jisung are childhood friends. Jisung’s also in third year with him.”

“Oh, I see,” you murmured, hoping you didn’t come across as rude. It was a miracle you hadn’t yet burst into tears. “What, um, program are you in?” 

“I’m doing a double major in music and Ivey,” he replied, which really did catch your interest, but you just didn’t have it in you to talk about school, even though you were the one who brought it up. (You’d missed more classes than you could count on your fingers, not to mention all of your soccer practices…) “What about you?”

“That’s cool,” you said with a nod of your head, hoping you could just move past this conversation and order a seven dollar iced latte to make you feel even more unstable. “I’m in social work.”

“Wow!” Jisung seemed genuinely impressed, leaving you feeling like such an asshole for not trying harder to show your interest in him being a double major. “That must be hard, right? But so rewarding, I’m sure.”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of your chest. 

You could almost picture her, in her then-nineteen year old glory, peering down at you with a bubbly smile as she said, “Social work? Oh, that will be so rewarding, I just know it! ” 

“Oh my…” Jisung’s mouth fell open at the sight of you suddenly sobbing your eyes out. 

“Y/N!” Shotaro and Minjeong gasped, beyond surprised that what seemed like a harmless compliment would set you off like that. 

It was cruel, just how much pain she left you in, when she was seemingly fine with her decision. You couldn’t understand for the life of you why she had thrown three years down the drain. It was eating you alive from the inside, but you knew you would never get a real answer besides the fact that she couldn’t betray her family. What about the family we had conjured up in our minds together? You’d asked, but she just shook her head, not wanting to be reminded of all the times you had planned your wedding together. It was almost as if she realized that she wanted to get her life together and that meant being in a real relationship, not in some fantasy with a girl that her parents would never approve of. It left you heartbroken and angry, yet Jisung still took an interest in you, even after seeing you cry your eyes out on your first meeting. 

Of course, he edited that part out of the story he told Jimin and Jeno so as not to introduce any more tension that was already present. 

“That’s a lovely story,” Jeno said, and you could tell that he meant it. You had always thought of him as a sweetheart, from the first moment you met him. That was until you found out that he jumped at the chance at dating Jimin once she was single again. 

“They’re the cutest couple we know,” Yizhou told him in a matter of fact tone; and you knew she didn’t say it to rub it in Jimin’s face, but because she honestly meant it. She had always been vocal about how you and Jisung were meant for each other. At your wedding, she had made a speech, and the one thing that stuck was, Jisung just so happened to be the right person at the right time. He’d picked Y/N up when she fell down, and look at where they are today. While you didn’t think anyone would dare to hint at Jimin on your wedding day, you’d made an exception for Yizhou; the speech had driven you to tears, because Jisung really was your person. You were so glad to have gone to that cafe that day, because who knew if you would’ve made such an impression on him otherwise? 

“When did you get together?” Jimin dared to ask, causing Sungchan to side-eye the hell out of her. 

Jisung simply smiled at you, peering down into your eyes with nothing but love and the same warmth that had been in his smile on the first day you met. Seeing him at ease managed to calm you down, and you were even able to match the smile on his face. 

“Well, I confessed to Y/N on her graduation day—in 2023,” he said with a light chuckle, “but I had to wait a bit longer until she was ready.” There was no doubt about what that meant, but he continued, “We started off slow in January 2024, but we didn’t become official until April 2024.” 

You couldn’t help but flush at the fact that he remembered everything so well. He was just too good, and it only added to the very long list of reasons as to why you loved him. “Aw, babe, did I lead you on for too long?” you asked with a teasing lilt. 

He scrunched his nose up at you. “Never.”

“How adorable!” Minjeong cooed. 

“So cute!” Chenle agreed. 

You just laughed, feeling more comfortable now that you were reminded of how wholesome your love story with Jisung was. There was no reason for you to be reminiscing about a short-lived relationship from your late teenage years, nor should you worry about an ex that you hadn’t seen in forever. You were both happily married, with beautiful, healthy children of your own, and that was that. You were able to see clearly now. It was just your heartbroken twenty-one year old self that was coming to the surface and making things more awkward than they needed to be. 

Right…? 

Chapter Text

It was the weekend again, and you were taking some time for yourself. With your heavy workload, the entire Jimin situation, and three kids who seemingly needed you more and more by the day, you thought you deserved a break. Jisung had been more than happy to entertain the kids for the day, which you knew would be easy since they were with their Fun Parent.

You set off around lunchtime to Shotaro and Renjun’s place, wanting more than anything to catch up and have them pamper you. The drive itself was just the beginning to your day-off from Mom Duties. You were finally able to connect your phone to the AUX, where you sang along to songs from your university days. 

As soon as you got to Shotaro and Renjun’s place, you felt at ease. There were no children there to bug you, or ask you to make them waffles, or drive them around to meet their friends. There were no neighbours that made you anxious to the point of wanting to pull your hair out. Instead, you got to relish in the feeling of being completely relaxed. Your best friend and his husband had greeted you with long, warm hugs and a freshly made mug of herbal tea. They lived in a cute bungalow in Markham, decorated comfortably but with a sense of flair, with a pet cat named Easter. Their lives were so calm compared to yours, and you were jealous. You wished for some peace every now and again, but when you were away from your husband and kids for too long you felt incomplete. 

The three of you settled in their kitchen, where they had a spread of food waiting for you. It felt so refreshing to be treated like this, even though you knew Jisung did the same for you. It just felt different with no whining from one corner and slamming of bedroom doors in the other. 

As you all dug into the feast, Shotaro and Renjun caught you up with what was going on in their lives. Apart from the emergency meet-up you had with Shotaro and Minjeong last week, you hadn’t seen him and Renjun in what felt like forever. Your schedules were always clashing, with Shotaro teaching at an elementary school and Renjun working as both a piano tutor and for the Toronto Orchestra Symphony. Renjun informed you about their scheduled trip to Switzerland during the upcoming winter break, before Shotaro updated you on what his younger siblings were up to. It was weird to think that you had once always known what was going on in his life. It wasn’t always like this, though; it was much like your friendships with Minjeong and Yizhou—all of your jobs depended on the school year. In the summer, Shotaro was over at your house almost every other week. 

Once they had caught you up in everything you’d missed over the past few weeks, Renjun demanded for a very detailed recollection of the whole Jimin fiasco. By the time you finished the story, all of your plates had been cleared, and you and Shotaro were laughing at Renjun’s unimpressed face. 

“I can’t believe Minjeong!” he said with a shake of his head, right after you told him that she was the one who essentially invited Jimin and Jeno out to Romeo’s. 

Finally! A normal reaction, like yours. “Right?!” you nodded. “Throughout the entire night she was acting all buddy-buddy with Jimin and Jeno.”

“Was she?” Shotaro asked, quirking an eyebrow, almost as if you were dramatizing everything. 

“Yes, she was,” you insisted, making a face at him. “Even Sungchan was pissed off.”

Renjun couldn’t help but laugh at that. “That’s not very surprising, considering it’s Sungchan we’re talking about. He cannot for the life of him hide his emotions.”

“Forty-five years old, and he has yet to master the art,” you agreed with a snicker. 

“Maybe Minjeong knew the others wouldn’t be the friendliest, so she thought to take charge,” Shotaro suggested, going back to the original topic. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah, that’s what she told me afterwards. Still, I thought it was stupid, considering Jisung and Yizhou are incapable of being rude.”

“Mhm,” a smile spread across his lips, “how were you? Did you turn into Dami’s twin?”

Cue an eye roll. “No. I was civil. Or as civil as one can be when they’re forced to enjoy dessert with their ex.”

“I’m sure you enjoyed your dessert just fine,” Renjun  smirked. “You are a fiend for sweets, after all. Much like Dami.”

Their emphasis on comparing you and Dami didn’t go unnoticed. It was something they did often just to show you how similar you were to your eldest. You weren’t dumb, though. You knew just how much she took after you, looks and personality and all. It was nice that at least one of your kids took after you, since Doha and Dayeon were carbon copies of Jisung, but you just wished that Dami had inherited his personality instead. However, you noticed that she’s been rather well behaved over the past few days. 

“How is Dami, by the way?” Shotaro asked not so nonchalantly. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Has she been texting you?” 

“Maybe, maybe not,” he said with a mischievous grin. 

“Why am I not surprised?” you sighed. “What has she been saying? That I’m a terrible mom and she wished she lived with you?”

Renjun laughed again, loudly. “Wow, and you complain about Dami’s dramatics.” 

You let out a small puff of air before slouching back in your chair. “Let me act like an annoying teenager for at least one afternoon, please.” 

Shotaro chuckled. “Okay, okay,” he said. “And, for the record, no, Dami didn’t say any of that.”

“Really?” you deadpanned. 

“Okay, she whines about you sometimes, but she mostly texts about friend drama,” he admitted. 

Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. What kind of friend drama? She, Isaac and Choyeon never had any problems. “What?”

“More like crush drama,” Renjun said, wiggling his eyebrows, before making a face, “I don’t approve.”

“Oh, come on, Jun,” Shotaro clucked his tongue. “You can’t dislike Minjeong’s son. That’s so rude.”

Oh. That made more sense. 

“I didn’t sign a waiver to love all of my friends’ kids,” Renjun defended, before quickly looking at you, “Yours are the exception, of course, Y/N.”

You chuckled. “I’m glad. And, I agree with Renjun, by the way,” you added, looking at Shotaro. “I don’t like Juyeon, either.”

He made a face. “I know. Dami told me that you chased after his car last weekend.”

Renjun burst out laughing. Yet again. “Oh my god, Y/N! You’re one of those moms?”

“They both lied to me!” you defended yourself, but you knew they wouldn’t be able to understand since they didn’t have kids. 

“Doesn’t make it all right for you to do that,” Shotaro told you with a shake of his head. 

You rolled your head. “Okay, yeah, whatever.”

“I would do the same if my daughter was getting into Juyeon Jung’s car,” Renjun told his husband with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Shotaro pursed his lips into a line. He did not approve of trash-talking Minjeong’s son at all. It was because he took care of the twins a lot when they were younger, and he held them precious to his heart, just like he did with Dami. “Okay, Jun,” he said. 

“Rawr. Sorry,” Renjun ’s eyes were swimming with amusement at the sight of the other’s serious face. He looked back at you and said, “Did Dami tell you about the Juyeon-Sua drama?”

You couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous that Dami told both Shotaro and Renjun about it. You thought that she finally trusted you enough to come to you about her crush, but you should’ve known better. She almost always told Shotaro everything happening in her life…who then told Renjun everything, since he found her gossip to be quite entertaining. 

“Yes, she did, actually,” you said. 

“Now you have nothing to worry about,” Shotaro told you. “That is, if Juyeon is actually interested in Sua.”

You shook your head. “Uh, no, actually, I have more to worry about if that’s the case.”

Renjun nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’ll only create more problems.”

Shotaro seemed exasperated. “So what would you rather have, Y/N? Juyeon and Dami together, or Dami unleashing all of her anger onto you if Juyeon asks Sua out?”

You made a face. That was a hard question. But, above all else, “I just want her to be happy… even if it means having to deal with Juyeon more often.”

“Yikes,” Renjun commented, before wincing when Shotaro lightly hit him on the arm. “Sorry, babe! He’s such a rude kid.” 

“I know he is, but he’s still Minjeong’s son!” Shotaro reiterated, not impressed at all. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Renjun mumbled, before sharing a look with you. 

Shotaro sighed, knowing that there was no way to get around it. Juyeon was a difficult kid, and none of you really understood why. He was brash and arrogant and only seemed to do what he wanted. He barely ever listened to his parents, but if Choyeon told him to do something he wouldn’t have to be asked twice. He had such a soft spot for her that he would gladly do anything to make her happy. It was sweet, especially when you considered how different their personalities were. On the eve of their seventeenth birthday back in April, Choyeon forced Juyeon to count down to midnight by watching Mamma Mia with her, Dami and Isaac. The picture Minjeong had sent was almost laughable, as the latter three were smiling brightly, while Juyeon sat with some distance between him and Isaac, arms crossed and all. 

“Anyway,” you tried to refocus the conversation, “what did she tell you about it?”

“She just said that she’s really frustrated with Juyeon because he’s quote-unquote so hot and cold,” Shotaro replied. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked. 

He shrugged his shoulders very hesitantly. “I can only imagine that it means that some days he’s nice, and on other days he’s…not.”

“And that doesn’t anger you?” Renjun immediately demanded. “Sorry, babe, but just hearing that pisses me off.”

As much as it hurt to hear, you weren’t very surprised. Juyeon was the type of guy to get tired of a girl after getting what he wanted. You just hoped that Dami was being smart and making the right decisions. 

“Yes, of course, it does,” Shotaro murmured, appearing very hurt by Renjun’s insinuation. “Dami’s my girl. I’ll always have her side.”

Renjun looked pleased. “Okay, that’s all I was wondering.”

“What else did she tell you?” you asked, wanting to know if there was anything you were missing. 

“Oh, she said she wished she never became friends with Sua because then Juyeon wouldn’t have taken an interest in her,” Shotaro answered easily. “She also said that she’s worried about you.”

A sound of surprise escaped your lips. “What?”

He nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, she texted me just the other day about it. She said that you’ve had two super late nights within a week of each other. And that you look really tired lately.”

You suddenly felt a mixture of warmth and sadness settle in your chest. Warmth, because Dami did care about you! Sadness, because you didn’t want her worrying about you. 

“Not only that, though,” Renjun reminded Shotaro. 

“Oh, yeah,” Shotaro nodded, causing you to sit up straight in your seat. “She said that she felt bad about pestering you about your new neighbours because it’s quote-unquote obvious that they did something to her in the past.”

You frowned. “Oh my god…”

Both Shotaro and Renjun looked at you with sympathy. 

“At least she’s recognizing her mistakes,” Renjun said softly. 

“And realizing that you’re not just her mother,” Shotaro added. “It shows a lot of self-reflection, Y/N, which is good.”

You nodded, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. Was that why Dami had been behaving over the past few days? Because she realized something bad must have happened between you, Jimin, and Jeno? You didn’t know what it was, but you didn’t want her to be cautious around you, even if it was because she was worried about you. It made you feel weird—almost as if you were making the entire situation with Jimin much too complicated. 

“Y/N?” Shotaro’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “Hey…it’s a good thing, really. You’ve always wanted Dami to think about others, right?”

“Yes, I have, but…this is just different,” you sighed, bringing your hands up to massage your face. “Ugh…” 

“I think you’re finding it weird because Dami always gives you a hard time,” Renjun said. “She does it because she knows that you’ll still love her. And because she’s seeing you react to your past like an actual human being, she’s realizing that acting like an asshole doesn’t help. On top of that, she sees how exhausted you are after work, so obviously she’s going to rethink her actions and how she treats you.”

Shotaro nodded. “Teenagers are selfish. They don’t realize that their parents are people, too. I think Dami is finally recognizing the fact that you have a life outside of her, Doha, and Dayeon, and that you had a life before she was even born. It’s normal for kids to go through this and start to care about their parents.”

How could he, and Renjun, always be so right? It was unfair. 

“Wow, that makes sense,” you admitted. 

Renjun grinned at you. “Well, duh, it’s us.” 

“You’re such a little shit,” you quipped. 

“I know you love me,” he sang. 

You rolled your eyes. “I do.”

“Dami’s a good girl,” Shotaro told you earnestly. “She’s coming around. Slowly, but I see it.”

“You just can’t make it obvious that you see it,” Renjun advised. 

Shotaro nodded. “That will definitely make her go back to her…charming self.”

“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed, knowing exactly how it would go if you showed your appreciation to Dami. 

“We’re just saying…” he trailed off. 

You finished off your now lukewarm mug of tea before asking, “What should I do about Jimin and Jeno?”

“Easy.” Renjun said. “Don’t let it bother you. You need to show them that you’ve moved on.”

“Okay, that’s definitely easier said than done,” you replied. 

“It’s been forever, Y/N,” he reminded you. “You’ve moved on. You’re with Jisung, she’s with Jeno. You both have your own families. You have to realize that whatever was in the past, is in the past. Just be civil and carry on with your life as it is.”

Ouch. That was a bit too straight up. 

You were grateful for it, though. You needed someone to be brutally honest, and while Shotaro and Minjeong could never lie to you, they had a tendency of beating around the bush when it came to certain things. And Jisung wasn’t going to tell you to just deal with it. He’d seen what The Breakup had done to you, so he didn’t want to be inconsiderate by pointing out that it’d been twenty-four years since Jimin broke up with you.  

“Renjun…” Shotaro gave him a sharp look. 

“No, it’s fine,” you quickly said, offering Renjun an appreciative smile. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

“My pleasure,” he winked. 

“Guys…” you said suddenly, causing him and Shotaro to nod, “Do you think I should tell the kids who Jimin is?” 

Chapter Text

Chenle and Yizhou’s house was a ten minute walk from yours. It was almost laughable—how close you lived to each other—but it made sense. Jisung and Chenle had been attached to the hip since their first year of university. While they had separated shortly after graduation when Chenle went to the University of British Columbia for graduate school, they had sooner or later made their way back to one another. You and Yizhou joked about how your husbands seemed to have chosen the wrong life partner because they were truly soulmates. 

It was Halloween, and per your friend group’s yearly tradition, you were all gathering at Chenle and Yizhou’s house. Between the four couples, you each had your own designated holiday to host. Chenle and Yizhou had Halloween, Shotaro and Renjun had Canada Day, Minjeong and Sungchan had St. Patrick’s Day, and you and Jisung had New Years. It had been made that way so you could spend the major holidays with your parents and extended families. You knew for a fact that your mother would wreak havoc if you missed even one Christmas with her. 

You and Jisung dressed up in a couple’s costume as you’d been doing for as long as the two of you got together. This year you were Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde from Zootopia, as requested by Dayeon after re-watching the movie a few weeks ago. You happily agreed to it, as you loved the movie and the costume didn’t require much effort. The day was spent getting ready for the Zhong’s party, with Halloween music playing from the speaker set in the upstairs hallway, and Dami’s personal speaker blaring from the confines of her bedroom to drown out everyone else. 

The walk to Chenle and Yizhou’s house was tiresome, not because it was far, but because Dami kept complaining about how stupid it was for her to continue going to their house when she was almost sixteen. You had a lot of patience for her whining today, knowing that she just didn’t want to see Juyeon with everyone else around. The two had been just as Shotaro had described: hot and cold. One day, Dami would be over-the-moon excited to go to school, and the next she would be grumbling about how she should be homeschooled instead. It was an unentertaining game of ping-pong, especially when you knew that it her mood depended on Juyeon's actions, or Sua's, or a combination of both.

Doha was just happy to go along with whatever was going on. He was especially excited for tonight for some unknown reason, but you didn’t question it. If two out of three of your kids were happy, you knew that you were doing at least one thing right. Doha had even put some effort into his costume this year, dressing up as a character from his favourite TV show—which just so happened to be Jim from The Office. While Doha’s costume didn’t consist of much, it still showed off his enthusiasm, leaving you unbelievably happy. Dayeon, on the other hand, had been begging for the past six months to be Little Red Riding Hood after watching the cartoon movie Hoodwinked at her cousin’s house. You knew you were rather biased, but she looked absolutely adorable in her costume, especially as she skipped along the whole walk with her red cape drawn up over her head. 

Dami, as expected, put almost no effort into her costume. She had deemed trick or treating childish after entering high school, and didn’t dress up unless Choyeon forced her. This year, Choyeon was doing a twin costume with Juyeon, so Dami was off the hook. As a result, she dressed in all black, used an eyeliner pencil to draw whiskers on her face, and bought a pair of cat ears from Dollarama. You didn’t mind it; as long as she was coming, that was all that mattered. 

By the time you arrived, the house was in full swing. Chenle and Yizhou always went all out with decorations and Halloween-themed snacks. The amount of pumpkins they carved every year was beyond impressive, especially when your family could never get five on the porch. Dami had been interested in carving pumpkins until she was twelve, declaring that it was “too much work,” before resigning herself from participating again. Ever since then, you only had four pumpkins on your porch. Chenle and Yizhou, however, had about ten or twelve along their driveway, all of which had different and intricate designs on them. It was one of the things that Dayeon looked forward to the most. As you watched Dami enter the house with Doha hot on her heels, Jisung was busy taking photos of Dayeon with each pumpkin. 

“Look, this one is a puppy!” Dayeon screeched in delight. 

“Yo, Kim!” Renjun’s voice sounded from the front door. 

You looked over, only to see the urgency in his face as he waved you over. 

That couldn’t be good… 

Once you met him at the doorway, he pulled you in for a hug and said, “Yizhou did you sooooo dirty!” 

“What do you mean?” you wondered, pulling back to look at him. “And where’s your costume, you grouch?”

Renjun rolled his eyes. “I’m literally the Oppenheimer guy, Y/N.” 

You took in his dress pants, white dress shirt and waistcoat. “Oh, sorry. You dress like that on the daily, so I couldn’t tell.”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious,” he deadpanned, before scrunching up his face in mild annoyance, “Anyway—I already snapped at Yizhou, so don’t be too hard on her. Although…I suppose you have a right to do so.”

You were still confused. “What did she even do?” 

“Ugh, just go inside and see for yourself,” he said, stepping aside to let you through. “Oh, wait, I’ll accompany you…for the drama, of course.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Renjun’s theatrics. He could always be counted on to liven up the mood, whether it be by gossiping or putting his past-high school theatre kid on full display. You actually met him at a play when you were in your first year of university, and he in his second. He wasn’t a Western student, but he was in attendance at your school’s Grease play to support his then-boyfriend, Jungwoo Kim. You went with Minjeong and your male-Soph, Jaemin Na, and just so happened to sit next to Renjun. You had, apparently, caught his attention with how immersed you were in the play. 

“Not many people actually care for theatre,” he’d said with an impressed look on his face. “I’m surprised.”

After the play, he asked if you and your friends wanted to join him and the Grease cast at a popular bar downtown. Luckily for you and Minjeong, you both had early birthdays, so you were able to get into the bars without fake IDs. That was how you and Renjun became good friends—and how Shotaro had later met his match. Renjun and Jungwoo were together for what seemed like ages, until Renjun could no longer deny the feelings that had blossomed for your best friend. It seemed weird to even think of Renjun with anyone else now. He and Shotaro were meant to be. 

Their love story, no matter how different it was, always reminded you of yours with Jimin. The obvious differences had been that the two of you had only been together for three years, while Renjun and Jungwoo dated for five; not only that, but Renjun left Jungwoo for another man. It wasn’t as if he had tried to hide a part of himself from the world. And he waited a reasonable amount of time after his breakup to start dating Shotaro. It wasn’t comparable to your and Jimin’s relationship at all, and you hated yourself for repeatedly thinking about it. 

Chenle and Yizhou’s house was as intricately decorated on the inside as it was on the outside. You admired them for their passion for the holiday. There were faux spider webs hanging from the ceiling, tombstones in corners, red jelly on the windows to mimic blood, and so much more. You weren’t able to fully appreciate the decorations because your gaze fell upon the last person you’d expected to see in the Zhong’s house. 

Renjun was right. Yizhou did you super fucking dirty. 

“What the fuck—?!” you scoffed under your breath, whipping your head to look over at Renjun with a mixture of anger and disbelief. 

He nodded in agreement, face scrunched with displeasure. “I know."

There, in the hallway that parted to the kitchen and living room, stood Jimin Yu in a witch costume. She wore a black dress that hugged her curves in all the right ways possible, making you feel more envious than anything because you were sure she didn’t even have to work out after giving birth like you did (for years). A tall black witch hat with a lace veil sat on her head, contrasting with the paleness of her porcelain skin. How could she be forty-six and look like that? An uncomfortable feeling settled itself in your chest, but you were too angry to match a name to the feeling. 

Why was she here?!

“Y/N—!” Yizhou caught sight of you, and when you turned your gaze onto her, you saw the immediate fear spread across her face, making her Morticia Addams costume lose its purpose. 

“Seriously?” you kept your voice low, even as Jimin looked over after hearing your name. 

“I’m sorry, I really am,” Yizhou whispered, holding one of your hands in hers. “Choyeon invited the girls last minute and Isaac told me that she had already mentioned it before he could stop her…”

Okay, well, that made sense. Of course Minjeong’s overly joyous daughter invited the Lees, and of course Yizhou’s overly nice son couldn’t stop her from doing so. You knew immediately that it had happened without Dami present; if she’d known, everyone would have known. You could only imagine her reaction, wherever she was, when she saw Sua. 

“I couldn’t not invite them after that!” Yizhou was saying, all very hushed and rushed. It seemed as if she didn’t want to draw any attention to the two of you, but was doing the exact opposite, if not for Shotaro’s loud intervention as soon as he saw Dayeon traipse into the house with Jisung. 

“Oh my goodness—is that the Little Red Riding Hood?!” he exclaimed, causing everyone who had been pretending not to watch your reaction to Jimin’s presence to look over at the little girl who was giggling like there was no tomorrow. 

“Uncle Taro!” she threw herself into his arms and shrieked as he spun her around. 

“Y/N,” Yizhou brought you back to the present issue at hand, “I’m really sorry. Please tell me it won’t ruin your night? I’m sure they won’t stay long. They only came as a formality.”

You looked at the genuine anguish on her face and sighed. There was no use getting mad at your friends when it was your own fault that you held such a huge grudge against Jimin. It was needless to say that having a twenty-something year old grudge on an ex was beyond childish, and to act like one in front of your own children was pitiful. 

“It’s fine, Yizhou,” you relented, causing her to let out a breath of relief. “You’re too nice for your own good.”

Renjun clucked his tongue in disapproval. “Wow, Y/N. You could’ve held out for much longer. You know, to let Yizhou marinate in guilt.”

You snickered as Yizhou hit his arm playfully, “Oh, come on!”

“I’m hilarious, I know!” Renjun grinned. 

Jisung appeared at your side, looking adorable in his Nick Wilde costume. “Did you see…?” he asked hesitantly.  

“Yeah,” you nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as a sudden thought came to mind, “but it’s fine. It’s Halloween, so I’m going to drink.”

Renjun’s grin widened. “Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about! Where’s Sungchan—he should know that he might have a fighting chance tonight.”

Jisung laughed. “That’s for sure. Y/N’s tolerance is at an all-time low.”

You scoffed, but the smile was still on your lips. “That’s not true at all!”

“Oh, it so is!” he insisted, his hand finding your waist easily. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” you scrunched your nose at him. 

Yizhou tapped your nose with her finger, giggling like she did when you’d met her twenty-year-old self. “Go into the kitchen! I made Halloween themed cocktails and snacks.”

“Oh, I know you did!” you said, feeling bad that you had grown so upset with her. It wasn’t your fault that your friend group just so happened to consist of actual angels with no room for hatred. (Well…except for you and Renjun, but that was bound to appear among the eight of you.) 

The house was full of chatter, laughter, and music. Shotaro and Sungchan were entertaining the little ones, dressed as Ken and Luigi, respectively. Minjeong, unsurprisingly, was the one entertaining Jimin, dressed as Mario with a full glass of red wine in hand. It was obvious that she’d ignored all of the cocktails Yizhou made and went for the hard stuff. Chenle, dressed as Gomez Addams, was animatedly talking to a pirate-Jeno, both of their cheeks flushed from what you could only imagine was alcohol. It made sense that they all started drinking already; it would make things much lighter, easier, with a buzz. You knew that you needed to catch up, especially when you knew that a conversation with Jimin would be inevitable. 

Before you could greet any of your friends, Dami came up to you with a look of displeasure—similar to the one that had graced Renjun’s features just moments ago. 

“Why are they here?” she demanded, causing your eyes to widen. 

“Dami, shush,” you quickly said, hoping that no one heard. 

“It’s so annoying, Mom! She’s stealing everything from me!” she complained. 

That froze you, tore your heart into two. The look on Dami’s face told you that that was how she truly felt. She always had a hard time making new friends, so for Sua to come in and insert herself into her friend group was like forcing a puzzle piece into the wrong spot. Dami’s friends were different, too; they were family. If Sua ruined Dami’s relationship with any of them, you didn’t know what you would do. 

You steered her into the empty family room. “I know it seems like that, sweetie,” you said softly, “but just know that, no matter what, she will never have the same relationship with the twins and Isaac as you do. The four of you are inseparable, remember?”

Dami’s pout reminded you of her squishable three-year-old self. Whenever she was upset or told to do something she didn’t like, she would pout her lips out and it would make you melt every single time. You fought the urge to pinch her cheek, knowing that she would very well act like the cat she was dressed up as. 

“Okay, yeah, we’re inseparable—whatever,” she dismissed very quickly. “But what’s so great about her that all three of those idiots can’t seem to keep her name out of their mouths?” 

“Listen, we’re only here for a few hours,” you said, causing her to roll her eyes. “I know it bothers you, but try to be the bigger person. Being moody won’t help you feel any better, so just try to make conversation—and it doesn’t have to be with Sua.”

Dami huffed. “ Fine. Tell Auntie Yizhou that she needs to put her foot down. This is her house, after all.” 

You knew you should’ve gotten mad at that comment, but you couldn’t help but agree, gaze unconsciously landing on Jimin again. “I know…”

Dami followed your gaze. She looked back and forth between you and Jimin, the annoyance on her face ebbing away to make room for a hint of bemusement. “Isn’t it ironic that I don’t like Sua, and you don’t like her mom?” she said with a snicker. 

You looked back at her, surprised. “What?”

She shrugged. “I think it’s funny.”

“Oh,” you didn’t want her to think that you were one of those women that held decades-long grudges even though you were. “It’s not that I don’t like her mom, Dami…”

“Then what?” she asked. 

You raised a hand and caressed her hair. “It’s…complicated, sweetie.”

Dami searched your eyes for something you knew you could never reveal to her: the truth. Instead of insisting that you tell her what happened, she offered a soft, close-lipped smile, “Okay.”

You returned the smile, wondering what on earth was going through her mind. You couldn’t remember the last time she smiled at you like that without reason. It tugged at your heartstrings, but you had to hold back your emotions, for fear of Dami returning to her usual, lovely self. The only person who was allowed to give her love without fault was Shotaro—and Jisung, albeit occasionally  

“Why don’t we take a look at the snacks?” you suggested instead. 

She pursed her lips into a line, face sinking as she nodded slowly. “Yeah…sure.”

“Is there something wrong?” you asked, noticing her sudden change in demeanour. 

“What? No.” She immediately said, but before you could even pry into it further, she was already walking away, “Oh, Uncle Taro is finally free.”

You watched as she hurried over to her unsuspecting uncle, who was making himself a drink. She touched his arm, causing him to look over and grin widely at the sight of her. Almost immediately, he slung his arm over her shoulder and she melted like she was seven years old again, leaning into his side with a semi-happy, semi-dejected look on her face. Before you could even recall the countless emotions that your daughter had just gone through, a certain someone was approaching you with a tentative smile. 

“Hi, Y/N,” Jimin said. “Nice costume.”

Suddenly, for some unknown reason, you felt incredibly self-conscious of your Judy Hopps costume. Perhaps it was because you looked like such a loser compared to her, dressed so hot for someone in her mid-40s. 

“Hey, thanks,” you replied, offering what you hoped came across as a kind smile. “Not so bad yourself.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled, shifting from foot to foot. “I guess me and Jeno didn’t get the cartoon character memo.”

“Oh, well…you look great, really,” you said, taking in her beauty that only seemed to shine brighter with every time you saw her. 

You didn’t know whether the flush in her cheeks was from the drink in her hand, or from your compliment, but it left you feeling uncomfortable nonetheless. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, before shaking her head, “I’m sorry about this whole thing. I know you probably don’t want me and Jeno crashing your traditions with your friends, but I—”

You interrupted her with a wave of your hand. “No, no. It’s fine. The…the kids seem to get along, so…” you forced a smile, “that’s all that matters.”

She smiled, too. “Yeah, I’m so glad. I was really worried about their adjustment, but it seems like they’re doing just fine.”

You nodded. “Yeah, Sumi and Doha seem to get along well.”

“It’s adorable,” she laughed lightly. “And Sua seems to get on with all the older kids.”

You knew that there was no way you could sell out your own daughter, so you found yourself nodding in agreement. “It’s kinda crazy that we have kids that are the exact same ages,” you said. “It’s…funny how the world works.”

A flicker of something akin to guilt washed over Jimin’s face, but Jeno’s intrusion made you wonder whether you were imagining it, with the record timing it took her to return to her happy, smiling face. 

“Don’t forget about Sumin!” Jeno chuckled, his hand finding its way to the small of Jimin’s back. 

You so desperately wanted to run away, as the last thing you wanted to do was converse with the both of them, but the mention of an unfamiliar name caught your attention. “Who’s Sumin?” 

Jeno seemed surprised, looking over at Jimin, who looked back at you with her mouth parted. 

“What—there’s no way we’ve never mentioned Sumin before,” Jeno said, the surprise on his face turning into a questioning look he directed at his wife.

“I guess not,” Jimin replied, “since this is only our second time seeing Y/N.”

You were very confused. Who was Sumin, and why was he worth mentioning? 

“Sumin is our son,” Jeno explained, causing you to mirror Jimin’s previous mouth-part in surprise. 

“You have three kids?!” you gasped, wondering how on earth they had failed to mention another one of their kids, who—oddly enough—didn’t seem to live with them. Before you could stop yourself, you found yourself saying, “Don’t tell me he’s Dayeon’s age.”

Jimin’s reaction was just what you had expected: slightly grim, but mostly understanding. The last thing you’d wanted was for your ex to have three kids the exact same ages as your own, and she knew that. If that was the case, you knew that whatever god or higher power that was out there was truly against you. But, there was no way that that was possible—for their son to be Dayeon’s age—because you had yet to see or meet him. 

“No, he’s twenty-two,” she murmured, causing you to gape at them in astonishment. 

Jimin and Jeno had a son in his twenties. 

There was no fucking way. 

How could that be possible?  

You came to a start once you realized that you were all well into your forties. Sometimes, you forgot about how old you were getting, especially whenever you were around your friends. While you’d all matured in one way or another, you still acted the same as your high school and university selves. It was a pain to be reminded that you were no longer a carefree girl in your twenties. Those years of your life were the most heartbreaking but the most fulfilling. It was where you had learned how to mend your broken heart and realize that those bumps were there to shape you into the person you were meant to be. It also introduced you to some wonderful people that have stuck by your side no matter how rigid you could be at times. It was quite ironic that you were the one who was uptight when you’d been a wild child in your teenage years. You hated to think that your late forties would make you even worse, but maybe it was just inevitable. 

Looking at Jimin and Jeno, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d aged as nicely as they did. It was almost cruel for both of them to still be as attractive as they’d been in university. You knew that comparing your looks to theirs was unhealthy, but the thought of them being disgusted—or even disappointed—by the way you aged weighed heavily on your mind for some reason. You heard from Jisung day in and day out about how beautiful you were, but to hear it from your husband was different. Even if it was true, it was just a duty husbands owed to their wives. And…vice versa, of course. Jisung himself had barely aged, save for the wrinkles by his eyes when he smiled and the slight grey in his hair. Other than that, he very closely resembled the twenty-year-old you’d met at the Reset Social Cafe. 

Jeno’s laughter brought you back to the present. 

“I know, we get that reaction a lot,” he said. 

You were no longer looking at him. Your gaze fixated on Jimin as you tried to wrap your mind around the new information. How did you not know that she had a kid two years out of university? Minjeong was still in touch with your male-Soph, who happened to be Jeno’s best friend, but she’d never reported anything about Jimin getting pregnant so young. They must have kept it a secret, you reasoned. That was the only reason you could think of, because you knew that they got married the year before Jisung proposed to you, and that they had two girls. The only other plausible explanation would be that Minjeong hid it from you, but that didn’t make any sense. Why would she hide Jimin’s pregnancy from you and not her marriage? 

“What’s going over here?” Jisung’s bright voice filled your ears. 

You met his gaze, and he immediately recognized the overwhelmed look in your eyes. “Well…” you cleared your throat, “Jimin and Jeno were just telling me that they have a twenty-two year old son.”

Jisung’s eyes bulged out of his head. “What?” 

Now it became clear to Jeno that it wasn’t just shock that you were feeling. It was a bit more than that, since you had yet to shed the look of pure disbelief from your face. 

“Yeah,” Jimin smiled awkwardly, “we were young when we had him.”

Jisung quickly composed himself, offering a kind smile as he wrapped an arm around you. “Wow, I bet. Where is he now? University?”

“He actually graduated in the spring,” Jeno answered, blowing your mind even further. Jimin was the mother of a university graduate! “He majored in computer science and was offered a job in Chicago, so he stayed behind.”

“Wow,” you and Jisung both said. 

“That’s very impressive,” Jisung continued. “You must be so proud.”

Jimin nodded. “Very.”

You were feeling very suffocated all of a sudden. You needed to get away from her, and fast. Jisung noticed right away, his instincts very in tune with yours, so he said, “Y/N, I came over because Minjeong was asking for you. She’s in the garage.”

“Okay,” you said, excusing yourself as quickly as you could to finally put some well-needed distance between yourself and Jimin. 

You beelined for the garage, yanking the door open and closing it tightly behind you. Minjeong was there, rummaging through the fridge for something. She looked over upon hearing the door open and stuck her tongue at you. 

“Hi,” she greeted. “How are you?”

“Did you know that they have a twenty-fucking-two year old?” you got straight to the point. 

She froze, wincing. 

“What the fuck, Minjeong?”  

You didn’t know why it mattered to you so much, but it was bothering you. And the fact that your best friend kept it from you was beyond words. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” she said, closing the fridge door so she could give you all her attention. “I was only trying to protect you. I knew how hard it was for you to get over Jimin, and…you and Jisung were really happy. I didn’t want to take that away from either of you.”

You felt very irritated and wound up, but you couldn’t yell at Minjeong. She was only keeping your best interests at heart. If Jimin’s son was twenty-two, that must have meant she was twenty-four when she had him. At that point, you’d been dating Jisung for a few months—you didn’t know what month she had her son, but you and Jisung officially got together in April 2024. While you had more or less recovered from The Breakup before that, it still haunted you at times, so maybe it was for the better that Minjeong kept it from you. It probably would’ve killed you a little. Just like it was doing to you right now, for some very unknown reason that wasn’t all that unknown. 

The negative emotions in your head and chest slowly dissipated. You drew in a deep breath and allowed it to wash over you, detach your ears from your shoulders, and realize how weird you were acting. It had been twenty-four long years since you’d even seen Jimin. All of your feelings for her had slowly disappeared once a certain Jisung Park entered your life. With him now being one-half of your life and soul, surely there was no room for you to chase after a feeling that had only lasted three years. 

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, taking off the bunny ear headband from your head; it was giving you a headache. “I’m just amped up because they’re here. Thank you for not telling me.”

Minjeong crossed over to you and pulled you in for a hug, holding you tightly. “I just love you too much, Y/N,” she murmured, swaying your bodies side to side. “I didn’t want to ruin anything if I’d told you.”

You felt gratitude swell in your chest. “Thank you. I love you, Minjeongie.”

She pulled away, looking at you with a soft smile, but seeing her as Mario made you burst out laughing. 

“Sorry, your costume is so unserious!” 

She let out her infamous high-pitched laugh. “You’re one to talk!” she exclaimed. “You’re a bunny-cop.”

Once the two of you started laughing, there was no way for you to stop. You held onto each other, screeching more than laughing, until someone opened the garage door in alarm. 

“Jesus!” Shotaro exclaimed, shaking his head at the two of you, “I thought someone was screaming.”

“Oh-oh my god, I might pee myself!” You said in between your laughter. 

“Me too!” Minjeong shrieked. 

This was just the reason why you forgot you were in your forties. Laughing with Minjeong made you feel like you were fifteen again, giggling together in the back of your grade ten science classroom when you were supposed to be listening to the teacher. She—and Shotaro—had the ability to bring you back to your youth, which maybe was a good thing. Otherwise, you’d just be remembered as the overstrict mom with a busy day job. 

Chapter Text

Jisung Park had had a difficult time finding love. He found himself suffocated by it inside of his childhood home, coddled by his parents for being too sweet and too tender-hearted for his own good. His older brother, too, treated him with love and care from day one, but began doting on him more often once he came back from his first day of kindergarten with teary eyes and a quivering lip. It was tough being an Asian kid in a predominantly white town, and Jisung hadn’t been prepared for it. He so desperately wished to blend in among the crowd, but his obvious physical differences made it hard to do so. 

Jisung had blossomed into a gentle, soft-spoken, careful, but clumsy, teenager. It was a miracle that he’d remained so sweet, even after enduring years of endless bullying and teasing from his classmates. His parents called him their little ray of sunshine, all because he maintained a positive attitude despite all the negativity in his school life. He was just a good boy, one that didn’t complain much, kept to himself, and hugged his mother more often than teenage boys would care to admit. 

Jisung had come across a plethora of terrible boys growing up, whether they were elementary school students picking on him for having a pink keychain on his backpack; or older middle school kids pulling their eyes back in a racist manner; or high school sophomores ridiculing him for the awful bowl cut his mom had given him the night before his first day; or the ones in his first-year dormitory who called him gay for not partaking in their exploitative discourse about the girls on their floor. The reason why he had come out so sweet and sane at the end of it all was because of the one person who stood by him and helped him through it all: Chenle Zhong. 

Jisung would never admit this aloud, but Chenle Zhong was his first love. Not romantically, of course, because he was not interested in boys whatsoever. (That was a no-brainer.) Chenle was the first person that showed him that he was capable of being loved without having to be related. He was the one person apart from Jisung’s family that constantly showed up for him and appreciated him for who he was. 

Chenle was what most Asian moms would call an angel. He was well-mannered, fluently bilingual, smart, and talented. He was a music prodigy from a young age; a talent that was worth something, unlike dance. Dance, according to all of Jisung’s classmates, was for little girls and gay men. He’d stopped entertaining his homophobic classmates’ demands of whether he was gay by his sophomore year of high school. He was just tired of it, and he honestly couldn’t care less if they thought he was gay. At the end of the day, Jisung loved dance, and nothing could get in the way of it—not even his insistent bullies. He had Chenle there, cheering him on from the sides of his dance practices, and that was enough for him. 

There were times throughout Jisung’s high school life where he longed for romantic love. His parents had met in high school and he had held onto the hope that he would find his future wife the same way. It was needless to say that all of his crushes were one-sided, which made him feel all the more hopeless that love would never find him. Chenle, much to Jisung’s chagrin, had his first kiss when they were in their junior year of high school with a girl he’d met on his trip back to China during the winter holidays. It wasn’t much to be jealous of, but Jisung knew that if it had been him in Chenle’s position, he would have dropped everything and lived in China for the rest of his life if it meant being with that girl. He was such a hopeless romantic, and he found it to be such a shame since he had no game or experience. 

That was until he started university. 

Since Jisung was so sweet, he ended up attracting many more girls than he thought possible. As someone who had never received any romantic attention, he didn’t know how to act, and wasn’t very comfortable partaking in the hookup culture at Western. While he had his first kiss with a pretty girl named Chaeyoung Lee, he remained single for a few more years because most of the girls who sought him out were either a) only doing so to make themselves feel better since their situationships treated them like shit, or b) weren’t his type. 

Jisung liked to say that cliches like love at first sight were just that—cliche, or corny—but he really did believe in them. His father was a romantic, just like him; he’d told Jisung and his older brother that the first time his gaze fell upon their mother, he knew she was the one. While Jisung believed it when he was younger, he became less optimistic as he grew older, the hope for his soulmate slipping through his fingers, until he met a certain Y/N Kim. 

In his third year of university, Jisung got a job at Reset Social Cafe in downtown London. He didn’t really need the job, since his parents gave him a monthly allowance for food and groceries, but he thought it’d be nice to a) make his own money and b) get out of his comfort zone. (Talking to strangers was his biggest weakness, especially if they were the same age as him, because of…well…the bullies!) He ended up loving the job; while it wasn’t particularly boring, it wasn’t the most exciting either. That was, until Shotaro Osaki came in with Minjeong Kim—who Jisung had met once before—and an unfamiliar but breathtakingly beautiful young woman. 

From the moment she entered his line of view, he felt his heart stop. It was only when the three approached the counter that Jisung forced himself out of the enchantment caused by Y/N Kim. She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, face bare of makeup, and hair braided down her back except for two strands that framed her face. While most people would have preferred her on a night out to the bars, Jisung didn’t think anyone could look prettier than that. What he hadn’t expected, though, was for her to erupt into tears after he praised her for her major. It left him shocked, staring at her with wide eyes and a slack jaw. 

Most guys wouldn’t pursue a girl who was obviously going through something, but Jisung knew that there was something different about Y/N. The next time he saw her was in line at Tim Hortons in the University Community Centre (UCC). He offered her a smile, saw her face redden in embarrassment at the reminder of their first encounter, and asked for her Instagram. And…that was that. They’d become fast friends, for reasons unknown to him because he was not as popular or attractive as she was, but she seemed to enjoy his company. Y/N had later revealed that she was going through a rather difficult break up, which was why she had cried at their first meeting, and why she showed up to their study spots with bags under her eyes. It was painful for Jisung—not because he wanted her for himself, but because he couldn’t stand to see Y/N in such anguish. 

While Jisung didn’t previously believe in love at first sight, he believed in the impact of one’s first love. 

He felt it himself—the impact Y/N left on him. It wasn’t fair—the way she left him giddy and flushed after smiling at him, or complimenting him on his appearance or ability to grasp hard concepts in his music theory class. It wasn’t fair because he knew that while she had captured his heart, hers would forever belong to Jimin Yu, and Jimin Yu alone. It didn’t matter if she would later reciprocate his feelings because the impact of one’s first love never left them. Ever. It hurt more because he knew how much the break up had affected Y/N. She was a mess for a while, and even though there were times where she was seemingly all right, he knew that she would just return to her apartment and cry into her pillow. It was difficult for Jisung to understand how she felt—how a break up felt, for he had never experienced one. All he knew was that when he confessed to her on her graduation day, she would never love him the same way she loved Jimin Yu. 

Twenty-four years later, it was obvious that the impact of Y/N’s first love still affected her. Whatever it was that happened in her and Jimin’s relationship made her so jittery and angry that she couldn’t stand living across from them, having dinner with them, and even enjoying Halloween with them. While Jisung would never admit it aloud to his wife, it was confusing and slightly frustrating. He wondered why it was that she had to keep it a secret from the kids. He had entertained the possibility of Y/N still having feelings for Jimin, but it just didn't add up. Jimin had cut all ties with her in the aftermath of their break up, so it wasn’t like Y/N could’ve had a parasocial relationship with the older woman. Jisung knew that Y/N loved him; how could he not, with the tender look she had in her eyes every time she gazed up at him, and the way all the tension would ebb away from her body just by seeing him. It—the fact that Jimin was her first love—just made him feel insecure. 

“Why don’t you tell her that?” Yizhou suggested when he confided in her during their lunch break in the art room. 

He sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I don’t want to make her feel bad.”

She clucked her tongue. “Jisung, you’re too nice for your own good.”

Jisung had met Yizhou in a first-year Earth Science class. Every student had to fulfill a mandatory 1.0 credit in the sciences, but with Jisung’s abysmal high school record in biology and chemistry, he opted to go for a course that would be interesting without all the sciencey lingo. He had gotten there early, and Yizhou sat beside him with her best friend Ellie. Once the professor started the introduction, he’d heard Yizhou mutter, “What the fuck…” causing him to snort in response. She’d looked at him with wide eyes and later asked to exchange social media so that they could work on the assignments and course material together. 

“So you keep telling me,” he said, popping a grape into his mouth. 

“Because it’s true,” she insisted. “I know Y/N’s going through whatever she’s going through because of Jimin, but you’re her husband. Sure, you can be there for her because it’s awkward as hell, but at some point, she needs to get over it. It’s been twenty-four years, and all of our kids seem to have adopted Jimin’s daughters into their group.”

Jisung knew that she was right, but he didn’t know whether it was fair to say that Y/N should get over it. He tried putting himself in her shoes, thinking about how he would feel if his first love suddenly moved in across the street after two and a half decades. It proved to be difficult to imagine, because his first love was his wife. However, if he pretended that Y/N had ended things all those years ago and moved in across the street, perhaps he would react poorly. But, he would eventually have gotten over it since so much time had passed. He didn’t know why Y/N was so bent out of shape over it, but he’d heard that lesbian relationships were different. Maybe that was why she was having such a hard time. She did, after all, take a very long time to get over Jimin. 

It exhausted him to no extent to figure out why his wife couldn’t just accept things and move past it, but he also didn’t want to stress her out even more by telling her how he really felt. He didn’t think it would be fair to her if he did so. 

“Jisung.” Yizhou pulled him out of his thoughts. 

She was looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and concern. 

“You’re right,” he sighed again, popping another grape into his mouth. “It’s been way too long, and the kids like each other. Well…” he clucked his tongue, “Dami’s having a hard time, so maybe it’s not so case-closed…”

Yizhou frowned. “Poor Dami. She didn’t seem to enjoy herself on Halloween.”

“Yeah…” he shook his head. Between his wife and his eldest daughter, there was always some sort of drama in and out of the house. “Serves her right for trying to egg her mother on.”

“It’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” she said, causing him to nod in agreement. “Jimin and Y/N’s daughters have beef—albeit probably one-sided beef—with each other. Who would’ve thought?”

Jisung snickered. “Not me, that’s for sure.”

Yizhou finished her chicken salad, snapping the lid on the glass container shut, before sliding it into her lunch bag. “Me neither,” she admitted. “Maybe it’s karma.”

“For who—Jimin or Y/N?” 

She shrugged, her lips pursed into a line. “I wouldn’t know the answer to that.”

Jisung scooped up the rest of the grapes from his small container and shoved them all in his mouth. As he chewed them, another thought came to mind. He waited until he swallowed before asking Yizhou, “Do you think Jimin and Jeno got married because they had a kid together so young?”

It seemed as if Yizhou was either expecting the question or had already pondered it herself. “I don’t know,” she responded, wiping the corners of her mouth with her fingertips. “It’s so hard to come up with theories about them since we never knew them in uni.”

“Yeah, I know…” he agreed. It would be so much easier if they had known them. The one thing that could tell him about Jimin’s character was the fact that she jumped into her next relationship within a couple of months of breaking up with Y/N. It told him that she couldn’t stand to be alone, and that she probably had a deep desire to be loved. 

“To be honest, though…” Yizhou continued, causing him to look at her quickly, “that was the first thing I thought of when you told me they had a son in his twenties.”

Relief had spread across his chest. So he wasn’t the only one who thought that. 

“Yeah, same,” he told her. “If you think about it, they were both two years out of uni. So, that must have been in 2024. Just think of the job market back then, as well as the cost of living. No one in their twenties were having babies unless they had a stable job, and I doubt that either of them were doing what they wanted.”

“And there was no way they were living in their own place,” she added.

He nodded. “Right. So, the baby was clearly an accident.”

“Yup,” she said. “And just look at the age difference between their son and Sua. Then look at the age difference between her and Sumi. That first baby wasn’t planned, and they waited a while to decide if they still wanted to be together.”

Jisung silently hoped his wife hadn’t made the same connections, because it pointed to one (of many) possible conclusions: Jimin and Jeno’s relationship only sustained because of their accidental pregnancy. However, Jisung couldn’t be so sure that that was the real reason. Perhaps they truly were in love, and simply waited to get married and have more kids together once they were financially stable. That was the reason why he and Y/N, Chenle and Yizhou, and even Minjeong and Sungchan waited. 

He knew that this exact same thought was passing through Yizhou’s head from the way she offered a small, close-lipped smile. She didn’t want to offer any other conclusion for his sake, for which he was grateful. He didn’t want to think that Jimin had made a rash decision jumping into a relationship with Jeno just because her parents were homophobic, nor did he want to think that she still loved his wife. He wouldn’t know what to do if that was the case. He also wouldn’t know what to do if his wife also had feelings for the older woman. All he knew was that it would break him. It truly would. That was why he didn’t say anything to Y/N—he didn’t want to know the truth behind her annoyance and anxiety. He would much rather remain ignorant to her feelings than indulge in them. 

“Anyway, what’s up with Dami?” Yizhou not-so-subtly changed the subject after seeing the look on Jisung’s face. 

He let out a small puff of air. “Honestly, I have no idea,” he admitted. “She was the one who sought out Sua to figure out how their mothers know each other, but after a week or so, she decided that she doesn’t like Sua anymore. Which, she realizes, is super difficult now that her friend group likes her.”

Yizhou knew exactly why Dami didn’t like Sua, but she wasn’t about to break Jisung’s heart. He and Chenle were so convinced that Dami and Isaac would get together one day. They didn’t know when, but they knew that it would happen in the future—perhaps in their third year of university, the same year both Jisung and Chenle had found love for themselves. Yizhou knew it would wreak havoc if Dami’s not-so-secret crush on Juyeon was revealed to both Jisung and her husband. 

“Poor girl…” she murmured, lifting her water bottle to take a long gulp from it. 

“The one good thing that has changed around the house is that Dami isn’t picking fights with Y/N anymore,” Jisung shared. 

Yizhou sucked her teeth. Y/N’s relationship with her eldest had turned from one of mutual love and respect to one of hatred and contempt, done by Dami herself. It was sad to see it happen in real time as a helpless bystander, so she couldn’t imagine how both Y/N and Jisung felt. 

Jisung admitted that it was one of the things that tore at his heart on the daily. Dami had been one of the best gifts life could offer, next best to the woman he was blessed enough to marry. For the two of them to butt heads almost every day made Jisung immensely sad. He didn’t know what to do to help mend their relationship, but it seemed as if Dami recognized how hard it was for Y/N to deal with the new neighbours, as she’d been laying off her for the past few weeks. Despite that, it was obvious that she herself was going through something because every afternoon she would come home grumpier than usual. It wasn’t ideal having both his wife and eldest child suffering, but there wasn’t much Jisung could do besides offer a listening ear. Even then, he felt quite useless. 

“You should treat them,” Yizhou suggested. “Maybe separately, or with the whole family. Take their minds off of what’s bothering them.”

He felt stupid. Why hadn’t he thought of that? 

“That’s a good idea,” he said. 

Yizhou grinned. “I know. I’m full of them. Always have been.”

He made a face at her. “Okay, Mrs. Ning, don’t think so highly of yourself.”

She stuck her tongue out at him in response, just as the bell rang, signifying the end of their lunch break. 

“Ah…” Jisung almost forgot they were at work; instead of having a free period, he had to cover an English class for a colleague. “Now I have to get a bunch of sixth graders to tell me what they thought of the first few chapters of Harry Potter. And potentially have my heart broken when I hear their honest opinions.”

Yizhou laughed, watching as he deposited his empty container into his lunch bag before zipping it up. “You and your ever-lasting love for the series,” she teased. “You should tell them that your cat is named after one of the characters.”

“Oh, no,” he immediately shook his head. “I don’t want them bullying me.”

“Ooh, yeah…good call,” she agreed. 

Jisung got up from his seat and patted Yizhou’s head like he often did when they were in university. “See you, Ningning,” he said, using the nickname only he, Chenle, and Ellie were allowed to address her by. “Thanks for the chat.”

“Anytime, Ji,” she smiled. “Good luck.”

Whether she meant with his class, or with his wife, he didn’t know, but he needed luck with both either way. 

Chapter Text

You pulled down your sleeves to cover your hands as you walked down the street, cursing yourself for underestimating how cold it was today. The weather app had predicted a high of ten degrees, which was quite a treat for the first week of November, but there was a strong gust of wind that shook you to your bones. While you brought a jacket, you left it in your car, not thinking you’d need it as you walked around one of your client’s neighbourhoods. That proved to be a very wrong call, as you were shivering, nose and ears red from the cold. 

It was supposed to be quick, from what you expected from the call you received, but that clearly wasn’t the case. You couldn’t even blame anyone but yourself for choosing to leave your jacket behind, but that wasn’t important right now. It was ten in the morning, and while you were scheduled for a learning workshop, the unexpected phone call forced you to withdraw your attendance and instead leave your office. It had been one of your client’s teachers, concerned with her absence at school despite her having a near perfect attendance record. You were grateful for the teacher’s worry, as it was clear that not many people cared for this particular child. She was thirteen and had been living in her current foster placement for a year and a half—something you would consider a record for older foster kids. 

This girl, Ruby, had barely ever caused you any worry. She was quiet, respectful, and—for lack of a better word—obedient. She always listened, most especially to you, and never caused any trouble. It had come to you as a shock, then, when you heard that she wasn’t in class. When you had your one-to-one meetings with her, she spoke of how important it was that she become educated. It had been her late mother’s wish, and she didn’t want to disappoint her. 

So, there you were, looking up and down the streets of her neighbourhood, trying to look for what—clues, you didn’t know. You’d parked at her foster house, knocked and rang the doorbell multiple times, but there was no answer. Called her cellphone, no answer. You didn’t know where she could be if not at home or at school, but you tried not to panic too much. Panicking as a social worker was a big no, so you took a few deep breaths and dug your nails into your palms to ground yourself. If you thought rationally, you’d be able to come to a logical conclusion. That was the job of a social worker—to think rationally, logically, and leave as much emotion out of it as possible. It proved to be much harder than usual lately, but that was just because you were caught up with certain changes in your personal life. 

When Jimin’s face swam around in your head, you shook it away immediately, stopping in your tracks. This was not the time to be thinking about your new neighbour. Nor was it appropriate for you to think about her at all. You drew in another breath, looking around at your surroundings to try to make sense of where you were. Ruby lived on the east side of Mississauga. Mississauga itself had diversified and grown during your youth, and was beyond recognition even now. There were no sparse areas in the city, so it wasn’t like Ruby could be hiding somewhere with no one taking notice of her. The area in which you were now was a family friendly neighbourhood—one of the reasons you’d placed her there. Her foster family was one of the most educated and respectable families you dealt with in the eighteen years you’d been working as a social worker. It didn’t make sense for Ruby to not show up to school with all these underlying factors. 

Over on the other side of the sidewalk was an older man going for a walk with his dog. Behind you was a young mother, pushing a stroller that held a small, bundled baby. A couple running together despite the cold. 

Where was Ruby? 

Your phone rang, causing you to startle. Looking at the screen, the caller ID read Dami’s name. You wouldn’t normally question her calling you if it weren’t for the time. 

You answered it, pressing your phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Mom,” Dami sounded unusually nasally. “Can I come home early?”

“Why? It’s only second period,” you said, keeping your eyes out for a short, brown-skinned girl who seemed to always have her hair in braids. “Listen, Dami, I’m busy—”

“I don’t feel good,” she interrupted. 

“Are you sick?”

“I dunno. Maybe,” she mumbled. A sniffle sounded a moment later. “Yeah. I think.”

You momentarily put your case on pause, albeit keeping a cautious eye and ear out in case Ruby was indeed walking around the neighbourhood. “Dami,” you said, wondering whether she was actually sick or crying. “Did something happen?”

“What? No,” she sounded confused. “My head just hurts a lot, and my nose is super snotty.”

“Oh.” While you didn’t want her to be sick, you felt relief at the fact that she wasn’t crying. You didn’t know how to deal with a crying Dami unless she was ten years old and needed a bunch of kisses to make her feel better. “Okay, well, can you call Dad, or maybe Uncle Chenle? I think he’s working from home this week. I’m in the middle of dealing with something right now.”

Dami sniffled again. Cleared her throat. “Yeah, okay.” You heard her stifle a groan and then her voice sounded further away, as if she moved her phone from her ear. “I’m on the phone with my mom.”

You didn’t know who she was talking to, but if the groan gave any hints away, you’d guess either Juyeon or Sua. When another girl’s muffled voice sounded, you knew you’d guessed right. It was Sua. 

“My mom’s working from home, I can ask her to pick you up, if you want…”

You couldn’t help but gasp. That was the last thing you wanted, and you were sure Dami felt the same way. If she accepted the offer, she would be indebted to Sua, and it would make Sua look like a hero. You didn’t know how Dami would get out of the situation, because you weren’t even sure if Chenle was home right now, and Jisung was at school, presumably teaching. 

“Oh…no,” You heard Dami say. “My uncle is coming to get me.”

“Mrs. Kim?” A small, familiar voice filled your ears, causing you to whip around and come face-to-face with Ruby. 

Your phone fell out of your hands at the sight of her. 

“Ruby!” you exclaimed, your heart seizing in your chest as you took in the young girl’s tear-stained face, the deep purple bruise covering her right eye, her busted lip, the lack of clothes on her frail body. 

She was shivering, looking up at you with tears welling in her eyes, a mixture of relief and anguish on her face. “Mrs. Kim…” she whispered, voice wavering. 

“Oh my! Sweetheart!” You really wished you brought your jacket with you so you bundle her up. “Are you all right? What happened to you?”

One of her braids had come undone, the other very loose. Her pants, one size too big, were ripped at the knee, and her t-shirt was sagging over one side of her shoulder. The sight froze you, but you were the adult here. You needed to act, and fast. 

“I want my mom!” she cried, bursting into tears and turning into the eight year old you’d met for the first time only five years ago. 

You picked your phone up from the ground, momentarily having forgotten that Dami called. You heard her saying from the line, “Mom—what’s going on?” but you quickly dismissed her, “I have to go, Dami. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

You hung up and immediately sent an SOS text to your agency, indicating your emergency. Pocketing your phone, you tentatively approached Ruby and told her, “Let’s go, okay? I’m going to bring you somewhere safe. Let’s go, honey.”

She fell limp in your arms, sobbing into your chest. You half-carried her, half-walked her back to your car, trying to think of what to do and what to say. It took a lot in you to deal with these types of situations, especially with what you would consider a low-risk client. Once she was in your car, you wrapped her up in your jacket and blasted the heat, hoping that she would warm up as quickly as possible. That was the least you could do. 

It had been a long day, dealing with the measures that usually followed these situations. You had to wait for Ruby to calm down to get her to tell you what happened, so you could decide whether or not to involve the police. Once it rang affirmative, you had the police come down to the agency, just for Ruby to recount what was probably her worst nightmare yet again, but this time to strangers. You couldn’t possibly imagine how she felt, but you knew that you had to be there to make her feel safe, so you stayed with her through the police interrogations. Ruby claimed that the perpetrator hadn’t been any member of her foster family, but the police just wanted to double check to make sure she wasn’t trying to cover for anyone. 

By the time you returned home, it was well past ten at night. The lights in the kitchen were on, but no one was downstairs except for Jisung. He was sitting on the sofa reading a book, resembling his university-self with his glasses and grey Western pajama pants. You didn’t know how those pants weren’t worn out by now. 

“Hey,” you said softly, causing him to look up. 

“Hi, my love,” he offered a small, tender smile. “Hard day?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you reached his side. “Mhm.” 

His face immediately fell at the sight of the tears welling up in your eyes. He quickly discarded his book so he could pull you into his lap. “Oh, angel,” he breathed out, wrapping his arms around you. 

You buried your face into his neck, now fully crying. It was just so horrible—everything about this day, about this job. This job that was so rewarding but offered a bit too much insight into the most cruel things that could happen to helpless children.

You didn’t know why social work had appealed to you when you were in high school. You’d taken mostly STEM courses, but when you took your careers test in grade ten, you thought ‘social worker’ sounded interesting. You wanted to help people— teenagers, specifically, because you knew first-hand how much teenagers felt so unheard. You wanted to be their voice, but…now look at you. You were a mess, and it was all because you thought you could automatically fix every single child’s problem. That was a mistake you had made from the beginning. You really thought that just by listening and being there for your client would help solve their issues, but it really wasn’t that easy. There were so many factors to consider—whether they were a victim of abuse, whether they should be placed in a new foster home instead of with their parents because their parents continuously failed to show up for court hearings, whether young girls would benefit from an all-female group home, and the list could go on. 

It wasn’t an easy job, yet, eighteen years later, you were still holding out. Holding out for these kids who could never seem to catch a break. Holding out for your teenage self who would’ve been so disappointed if you gave up because it wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. Holding out for the sake of your children who should look up to you for being so dedicated to your job, and not look at you as less than because you were a quitter. Holding out for Ruby, because she needed you more than you could ever possibly know. It wasn’t an option—to quit. You loved your job, loved the people you worked with, loved all of your clients as if they were your own, and looked after them with such care so that they were able to confide in you. It was such a blessing to have them talk to you, even if it was about the most mundane things. It made you happy when all they did was that. 

Despite all that, it was reasonable for you to cry and complain about it being a hard job. You had put your blood, sweat and tears into your job, even after each of your children’s births. It was okay for you to cry, because small, quiet, precious Ruby had been violated in a way you never thought possible. She had been trying to find her way back to her foster placement, disoriented, when she saw you on the phone. She didn’t even have to tell you how relieved she was when she saw you. You were glad that your presence had provided her with some comfort, even if you had been distracted by Dami’s phone call. 

Oh, god. 

Dami. 

“Wait.” 

You sat up, looking down into Jisung’s concerned eyes. “Dami,” you whispered, voice unstable. “Is she sick?”

“It’s just a cold,” he replied softly, one hand on your hip and the other wiping away your tears. “She’s been in bed for hours.”

“Who…who picked her up from school?” 

Jisung hesitated to answer.

“You didn’t?” 

He shook his head slowly. “No, I was teaching when she called me,” he said. “Chenle was in Toronto for a meeting.”

You suddenly remembered the last bit of the call before Ruby showed up. Sua had offered her mother up as saviour. “Don’t tell me…”

“Yeah,” Jisung confirmed without you having to say anything. “Jimin picked her up. She even made soup.”

You wanted to be mad. You so desperately wanted to be mad. It was hard keeping this entire thing up when you should’ve been focusing all of your emotions and brain-power on your job. Maybe if you hadn’t conjured up the image of Jimin’s face earlier today, you would’ve spotted Ruby faster. That way, she wouldn’t have had to approach you all on her own. It was your incapability of leaving the past in the past that led to that. You really needed to just forgive and forget because not only were you getting distracted in your personal and work life, but you were also cursing Jimin for being too kind for her own good. Would you have picked up Sua if Dami called you? Probably, but you weren’t the one who had broken up with Jimin just to date your best guy friend. (You wouldn’t have even been able to do that, considering your best guy friend was gay.)

Nevertheless, you found yourself experiencing a breakthrough. You needed to get your act together, and fast, if you wanted to keep your job. Remember: social worker, no emotion. Okay, maybe a little emotion, so your clients could open up to you. Just a little. In order to achieve that, you really needed to put the whole hating-Jimin thing behind you. She had done something beyond selfless—picking up your daughter from school, and going the extra length to make her soup. The least you could do was not get angry or jittery whenever you saw her leave her house at the same time as you, or at one of your friends’ parties. 

You needed to be a role model for Dami, too. Although she had her separate reasons for disliking Sua, it probably didn’t help that you very obviously had a past with Jimin that still shook you to the core. In order to make things right, for both you and Dami, you finally needed to be the bigger person you constantly told Dami to be and start all over. 

Leaning back in Jisung’s arms, you nestled your face in his neck again and let out a small, shaky breath. 

“That was nice of her,” you murmured. 

Jisung was surprised. He didn’t expect you to say that. He’d expected more anger, both at the fact that Dami was left alone with Jimin, and that Jimin had been in the house and used your pots and pans and spices. However, he realized that you must have been glad that someone had taken care of your daughter while you were both busy. 

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed gently, pressing a few soft kisses to your head. “Are you okay, love?”

You felt his heart beat against your body. It was soothing, and you wanted nothing more than to just crawl up into bed with him and sleep. “Mhm,” you mumbled. “I’m just tired.”

“I bet,” he replied, arms wrapped around you. 

“I just…I want to put this whole Jimin thing behind me,” you confessed. “I don’t need to worry about that on top of my job and the kids.”

Jisung was glad your face was tucked away into his neck, so you couldn’t see the look of relief on his. He was beyond glad that you had come to this conclusion on your own because he would’ve bit his tongue for years, if that was what it would have come to. While there have been times where he confronted you on certain matters, this was the one thing he stayed very far from. Jimin being your first love wasn’t your fault—that was just how life made it out to be, and there wasn’t anything either of you could do to change it. That was why he kept quiet as you tried to figure out how her moving in affected you. 

But now….

Now you were the one who had come to the realization that worrying about a relationship from twenty-four years ago was pointless. Jisung never felt so glad in his entire life. Maybe he was being a bit dramatic, but first loves could take a toll on a person. He wasn’t sure whether you would ever recover from Jimin being your neighbour, but clearly you realized that there were bigger things to worry about. 

He just hoped that you truly would get over it. 

Chapter Text

Jeno Lee was soft. He was kind, dependable, and sweet. A good guy. The safe bet. He was someone who could be a good boyfriend, a good husband, a good father. 

Jimin Yu knew all these things and more. She knew it when she became friends with Jeno in their first year of university. She just didn’t know that she would end up marrying him and having three of his children. When she walked through the hallways of the Med-Syd dormitory building at age eighteen, she knew one thing and one thing only: freedom. She was finally free to do whatever she wanted without having her overprotective, religious parents breathing down her neck. And what she wanted to do was kiss girls. 

Jimin knew from a relatively young age that she liked girls. While she thought boys were cute, too, there was just something about girls that made her heart race a bit faster than usual. While all of her classmates fawned over Donghyuck Lee and Yangyang Liu’s sudden glow up after summer break, thirteen-year-old Jimin found herself enamoured by her best friend’s recently developed boobs. Aeri had been more than embarrassed to have what were then considered the biggest boobs in their class, but Jimin just encouraged her to embrace it, which was more so for her personal benefit than for Aeri’s self-confidence. 

Growing up in a religious household, Jimin had heard it all—that being gay was a sin, and that all gay people went to hell. She didn’t think that was true, though, considering she was gay—or, well, she at least liked girls—and she liked to think she was a good enough person to make it to heaven. She was a very obedient girl to her parents, so it wasn’t like she had a long list of sins like other kids her age. She knew well enough not to tell her parents, and she kept quiet about it throughout middle school and most of high school. She came out to Aeri, Donghyuck, and Yangyang right after, ironically enough, their grade eleven religion class. Aeri didn’t seem surprised, Donghyuck was ecstatic since he had seemingly always wanted a gay best friend, and Yangyang was Yangyang—he made a lesbian joke before asking if they all wanted to get food. Outside of those three, not a soul knew. 

Moving away for university was something Jimin had always dreamt of. It was exhilarating but bittersweet at the same time since only Aeri was attending Western with her. Donghyuck and Yangyang went to Queens together, which was ironic considering Western and Queens were rival schools. Nonetheless, university was a big deal for Jimin. She was finally able to live freely as herself for the first time, without fear of her parents finding out her secret. 

Her first year was full of lots of firsts—kisses (with girls at least; Jimin had kissed Yangyang a few times at parties in high school when they both were a little too tipsy to care), one-night stands, and new friends (which really was impressive, since she hadn’t made any friends since grade one). 

Jeno Lee and Jaemin Na were best friends. They lived a few doors down from Aeri and Jimin, and happened to be the only other East Asians on their floor. Aeri noticed them on the day she and Jimin were moving into their dormitory, as they were returning to their room after what seemed like a workout. She’d turned to Jimin and mouthed wow when their parents weren’t looking. She forced Jimin to formally introduce themselves later that night once their parents had left. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but both Jaemin and Jeno were both incredibly kind. Jimin had a weird assumption that all hot guys were rude douchebags, but, then again, she did choose to go to Western, so she wouldn’t have necessarily been wrong for thinking that. 

From that day on, Jeno and Jaemin became Jimin and Aeri’s friends. Donghyuck was quite upset when he saw a photo of the four of them on Aeri’s story, calling them traitors for replacing him and Yangyang so quickly. Jimin simply said that that was bound to happen since they’d lost him and Yangyang to Queens, to which he started to fake sob over FaceTime. She didn’t think they were replacing them at all because it was just impossible. Donghyuck and Yangyang were very special to her and Aeri, and it wasn’t like they were going to throw twelve years of friendship down the drain just because they didn’t go to the same school anymore. 

It didn’t take long for Jimin to realize that Jeno liked her. He wasn’t the most subtle person, especially with the way he would always sit next to her whenever the four of them went to the dining hall to eat, and the way she would always feel his eyes on her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She chose to just turn a blind eye to it, even when Aeri advised her to be straight up with him about it. She was never good with confrontation, and that was not going to be the first time she addressed something head on. 

Jeno wanted to confess. He really did. He liked Jimin so, so much, sometimes it made his heart hurt. She was so pretty, both inside and out. She was such a genuine, carefree person who seemed to attract a lot of attention from the guys in their school. However, it was obvious that she didn’t show any interest in them. Jeno sometimes liked to think it was because she liked him, too, but he always stopped himself from being too delusional. He knew he could be a bit of a hopeless romantic at times, so he bit his tongue and admired Jimin quietly. Jaemin was not in favour of this—Jeno admiring her quietly—because it often meant that he would have to hear Jeno’s long rants about how beautiful she was after spending the whole day together.

Second year came by faster than any of them thought. They all applied to become Sophs together since it was a unique program to Western, and they didn’t want to move off-campus just yet. Jimin wanted to stay on campus just because it was convenient, while Jeno did it just so he could continue to see Jimin every day. So, it was needless to say that he had been a bit disappointed when he found out that he was paired up with Aeri instead. Of course, he liked Aeri, but not in the same way he liked Jimin. It proved to be not that big of a deal in the end, because he and Aeri were assigned to the floor below Jimin and Jaemin’s. 

Jeno underestimated how exhausting Sophing could be. Taking care of twenty-something over excited eighteen year olds with clashing personalities was not as easy as his own Sophs made it out to be. He didn’t know how Aeri was managing to be so bright and happy all the time; Jeno needed time to recharge his social battery, while Aeri always seemed to be ready to go. The one person he didn’t need a social battery for, however, was Jimin. She could swing by his room at any time of the day, and he’d suddenly feel so energetic that he wouldn’t be able to sit still. 

It was pathetic. It truly was. Jeno had a suspicion that his behaviour around her was pitiful, but it was confirmed once he found out that she had been hooking up with one of her freshmen. Jimin didn’t like him back. And it hurt. A lot. He didn’t think it would hurt so much, but it did. Especially when he realized that the reason why she never gave guys any attention was because she was into girls. Jeno knew, of course he knew she wasn’t straight, but he was just holding out on the hope that she was at least bisexual and only had eyes for him. It was wishful thinking…(or more like next-level delusion). 

Jimin knew that it was bad for her to fall for one of the freshmen on her floor, but she couldn’t help it. Y/N Kim was breathtaking. She was loud and opinionated, smart and hardworking, and just…overwhelmingly pretty. Jimin knew after about all of five minutes of talking to her that she was also into girls. The confident smirk, the pierced nose, and the lingering gaze on Jimin’s lips told her all she needed to know. 

There was some sort of magnet that kept pulling Jimin into Y/N’s direction until she finally knocked on her door one night and greeted her with a kiss. It was weird, though, because she never felt the same way with her other hookups. Most of the others were only a one time thing, but Jimin found herself going back to Y/N almost every other night. The lingering gazes and shy smiles during the day turned into gasps and tangled sheets at night. There was only one thing Jimin could conclude: Y/N was what she had been looking for this whole time. She didn’t want to just kiss girls in university. She also wanted to date them, and the opportunity—and girl—never presented itself until then. Jimin officially asked Y/N out on October twenty-first, and the rest was history. 

Literally. 

Jimin Yu—present-day, straight Jimin Yu, not second year, queer Jimin Yu—was distracted. It was always when she was home where she turned into a jumpy, lost-in-her-thoughts mess. It had been funny at the beginning, but it had been a month since the Lees relocated to Canada, and Jeno was getting worried. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was. 

The girls noticed, too. They watched as their mother destroyed her nails by biting them until they were raw and bleeding. They pretended not to notice the way she distanced herself from Jeno whenever he sat down next to her on the couch. However, they would talk about it with each other when they knew both Jimin and Jeno were sleeping. 

Jeno noticed everything his daughters noticed. While he couldn’t necessarily get upset with Jimin for the way she was acting, he was upset with her for putting on an act whenever they were out of the house. He wished he knew what was going on inside of her head, though, because he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She had yet to talk to him about the elephant across the street, even after going for dessert with Her and going to Her friend’s house for Halloween. He didn’t know if the elephant would ever be addressed, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be. He knew that it would only hurt him in the end, anyway. 

Jimin didn’t choose to be born this way. She didn’t, and she was okay with it for a while. She was beyond okay with it; she was happy. Her four years at Western had been the happiest of her life, and three of those were due to her girlfriend. She really felt like her life was complete once Y/N stepped foot into it. What she never saw coming was her parents finding out about it. Even now, Jimin still didn’t know how they found out, but they were the ones who ruined her life. She probably wouldn’t actually use the word ruin out loud, since she was seemingly happily married, and she had three beautiful children whom she loved with her entire heart, but she didn’t know what other word she could use without sounding like a bitch. 

It was her parents’ fault that she had to break up with Y/N. They had threatened to make her life a living hell if she didn’t, and it seemed very possible with her living at home again after graduation. Jimin felt helpless; she didn’t want to actually break up with Y/N, but she had no other choice. It was either that or being homeless, and Jimin had no desire to be homeless or penniless. In hindsight, she could’ve disobeyed her parents and gone to live with Aeri, who had moved into her own apartment in Toronto. But, she didn’t, because she was a recent graduate with no job prospects, and she was scared—scared of what they might have actually done to her if she didn’t listen. 

She was a coward. 

Breaking up with Y/N was the hardest thing Jimin had ever done. She loved Y/N. So much that it made her sick sometimes. She so desperately wanted to scoop Y/N into her arms and tell her that she was sorry, that she didn’t mean it, and that she was only doing it because her parents found out. But no. She was a coward and she forced herself not to appear very affected by it, even though it cut through her heart in ways she never could have imagined possible. It was probably the most terrible thing she’d ever done. 

No, that wasn’t true. 

The most terrible thing Jimin did was jump into a relationship with Jeno two months later. And that wasn’t the worst thing about it. She just wanted her parents off of her back. That was all that it was. She knew Jeno still liked her after all those years, so it wasn’t like she had to wait around for a guy to show up to prove to her parents that she really was straight. She felt like such a bitch for going to Lia Choi’s Christmas party and getting tipsy on purpose just so she could kiss Jeno. 

She chose Jeno because he was the safe bet. The kind of guy she could bring home to her parents to reassure them that she was doing better now that she was away from any distractions. That was what her mother had called Y/N—a distraction. Jeno was so much better in her mother’s eyes despite her never having met Y/N. Jimin supposed it was because Jeno was a man and Y/N wasn’t, but who’s to say her assumption was wrong? (It wasn’t.) 

Jimin knew that she would have to end things with Jeno eventually. She didn’t love him the same way he loved her. She wondered whether it was as obvious to him as it was to her. (It wasn’t, and they’d been together for a year at that point.) There was always something that came up that prevented her from breaking up with him—Aeri’s birthday, New Years’ at Jaemin’s place, Valentine’s Day, her birthday, Jeno’s birthday, then the biggest, most heart-stopping, suffocating thing of all: two lines on a pregnancy test. Jimin didn’t know how she could have let it happen. She still didn’t know how she let it happen. She was just young and unbelievably stupid. 

Aeri was the only one who knew the truth. From the moment Jimin’s parents told her to break up with Y/N, to today’s mess, Aeri knew everything. She had stopped telling Jimin she was stupid after Sua was born, but Jimin knew she still thought it. She was right, Jimin was stupid. She was and always would be stupid. This was all her fault, and she was hurting Jeno more and more everyday. 

Jimin looked over at Jeno, a small frown tugging at her lips. He was sitting on the couch, his glasses framing his face, as he watched TV. She didn’t know what he was watching, but it seemed to be a comedy from the way small chuckles would escape his lips every so often. Jimin felt her heart constrict in her chest as she watched him. It wasn’t fair, what she had done to him. She took advantage of his feelings for her just to make her life a bit easier, but it proved to make it even harder instead. She knew from the beginning that she would never love him the same way he loved her, but she convinced herself that she would be able to learn to do so. And she did. Jimin loved Jeno, but it just wasn’t the kind of love that he wanted. 

She didn’t know how their marriage managed to last this long, though. It was honestly a miracle that Jeno didn’t leave her a long time ago, but maybe he was just in denial. Or, maybe he was content with whatever love Jimin was able to give him. Maybe that was enough for him and his eighteen-year-old self who had dreamt of the day Jimin Yu would reciprocate his feelings. The thought left Jimin feeling immensely guilty—a feeling that had settled in her chest soon after kissing Jeno that night at Lia’s Christmas party that only continued to grow over the years.

Jimin thought she had changed, though. She thought she moved past all of… this. When Jeno had told her that he might have a job opportunity in the United States, she told him to take it without question. She knew that it would be better to leave Canada; she just wanted to live freely again. If she put even more distance between her and Y/N Kim, then surely she would be able to just forget everything that had happened. Surely she would be able to focus all of her attention on Jeno and the kids. And she did. 

Jimin was forever grateful for Aeri’s husband Mark, because it was his connections that landed Jeno the transfer to Chicago. While she was scared to move away from everything she had ever known (AKA: Aeri, Donghyuck, Yangyang, and Jaemin), she was ready for a new start. She truly thought that she could start over with Jeno, too. The kids had been small at the time, Sumin was ten, Sua barely four, and Sumi only two. It was hard with them so young, but it helped Jimin see what was important: the little family that she had made with Jeno. Being away for so long strengthened their relationship, and she found herself happy for a while. 

Even when they moved back to Canada, Jimin had been on good terms with their decision. She thought that she had finally healed from her university days. She loved Jeno, she was truly happy with Jeno, but then…all of those years of progress went out the window once Sumi came running up to tell her about the woman who lived across the street. When she looked at Jeno’s resigned face, she knew exactly who it was. 

Jimin wanted so badly to curse Y/N out for coming back into her life, but it wasn’t her fault. Her family had lived there for years, so it wasn’t like she did it on purpose to taunt Jimin. It certainly felt like it, especially when Sua and Sumi joined forces with Y/N’s kids to figure out their relationship to one another. Jimin ignored their questions and locked herself in her office whenever she had the suspicion that they were going to bring up Y/N’s name. She didn’t mean to be so secretive, but moving back to Canada and living across the street from her ex-girlfriend wasn’t what Jimin expected to cross off on her bingo card. None of her kids even knew she was into women—not that they needed to know, anyway. She had hidden that part of herself away shortly after she started dating Jeno. 

She didn’t know why she did it. Hide herself. All of her friends knew she was into girls, and when she got with Jeno they all just assumed she was bisexual. She could have rolled with that and told the kids, but it would have been a lie. Maybe she was bisexual, but she didn’t feel super comfortable with the label. She was never satisfied with any label growing up, even when she was dating Y/N. Though she knew she liked women more than men, and enjoyed having sex with women more than with men, she didn’t think of herself as a lesbian. It was weird. (And probably due to internalized homophobia.) 

Jimin wondered whether Y/N was happy with Jisung. He definitely seemed to be with her, but whenever she saw Y/N she was always on edge. That could very well be due to Jimin’s presence, but Jimin pretended to think that it was because Y/N wasn’t actually happy. If she told Aeri that, Aeri would tell her that she was just projecting her feelings onto Y/N. Jimin wouldn’t know what to say because she honestly believed that she was happy. When they lived in Chicago, she felt closer to Jeno than ever before. It was a relief to her because there were times where she worried that she would die miserable. She didn’t want to live the life of a miserable lesbian who couldn’t stand up to her homophobic parents, so she got her head out of her non-lesbian ass and got her act together. 

She just wished that her happiness hadn’t disappeared so suddenly. 

Jimin felt herself plagued by never-ending thoughts after she found out that Y/N Kim and her family lived across the street. Her mind never seemed to shut up, and it was obvious to everyone. She tried to keep it under the wraps, but she was horrible at hiding her feelings. She felt incredibly guilty for pushing Jeno away and not talking to him about it, but she just didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t hurt him. The only time she would gravitate toward him and act normal was when she was around Y/N and her friends. She didn’t want Y/N to see right through her, but she also, ironically enough, felt most at ease with Jeno by her side.

It was late. Jimin was tired, but she didn’t want to sleep just yet. The girls had made a late night snack and were currently eating it in Sua’s room as they had their weekly FaceTime call with Sumin. Jeno seemed fine today. He was still chuckling at whatever movie he was watching, not really paying Jimin much attention for the past forty minutes. She was sitting at the island, hunched over a bowl of ice cream that she finished ages ago. 

Today, Sua called her and asked her to pick up Dami from school. Jimin’s immediate reaction had been what the fuck, no! but Sua knew she was working from home, so she had no excuse. Dami seemed as thrilled about the situation as she was, but Jimin was the adult and had to act like one. She tried making small-talk, but it was obvious that Dami wasn’t feeling well, so Jimin didn’t feel that offended when she told her to stop talking. 

Jimin wanted to just drop Dami off and go back to work, but she knew that it would be awful of her to leave a sick child alone. Somehow, she was able to convince Dami to let her make some soup for her. It was weird, cooking in Y/N and Jisung’s kitchen without them home, but it was even weirder when she realized that she was doing it to feed Y/N’s daughter. Although Jimin knew that Y/N had kids of her own even before she moved back, it was still hard to wrap her mind around. Dami reminded her a lot of Y/N when she was just a first-year student, but Dami was more blunt than Y/N ever had been. 

Even now, Dami’s words rang in Jimin’s head. 

“Did you give my mom a hard time in uni? Is that why you guys can barely even look at each other?” 

Jimin wondered what Y/N had told her, but it probably wasn’t much if Dami was looking at her for answers. She simply told Dami that it wasn’t her place to tell her anything if her mother hadn’t, before placing a steaming hot bowl of soup in front of her. Luckily, Dami didn’t fight her on it. She didn’t say much else after that except for a very quiet thank you when Jimin left.

She knew that it was the right thing to do—helping Dami—but it just left her feeling more troubled than before. It wasn’t like Y/N had been there, or Y/N told Dami to tell Sua to ask Jimin to pick her up. Y/N was probably too busy with her own job to even think twice about her. Jimin was just paranoid that Y/N was trying to get back at her for breaking up with her, but she knew that that wasn’t true. Y/N didn’t seem very spiteful whenever they crossed paths; instead, she was very stiff and short with what she said to Jimin. Jimin knew she deserved it, but she would rather have Y/N yell at her like the last time she saw her instead of acting so damn tense. 

With a small sigh, Jimin deposited her bowl into the sink before getting up from her spot at the island. She looked over at Jeno again, noticing that he still hadn’t looked at her, even when this was the first time she made any sudden movements since he sat down to watch his movie. Sadness creeped up into her chest, mixing with the guilt that always seemed to be there. She didn’t mean to hurt him so much. She didn’t mean for this to go on for as long as it had. But, there they were, going through the same awkward patch they had gone through when Jimin found out she was pregnant with Sumin. 

“Jeno,” she said, causing him to finally peel his eyes away from the TV screen. 

He looked at her with apprehension—and a flicker of hope. “Yes?” 

Jimin didn’t know what she wanted to say. She just wanted him to look at her, but now that he was, it only made her feel worse. The hope in his eyes told her that he was holding out for the love that she had given him in Chicago. 

“We shouldn’t have moved back.”

They shouldn’t have. Jimin knew that. She had some sort of sixth sense that had told her it was a bad idea, but she missed home—she missed Aeri, Donghyuck, Yangyang, and Jaemin—so she ignored that inkling of fear. She now realized that she should’ve listened to it. That way, she wouldn’t be so hyper aware of the way Jeno touched her, and Jeno wouldn’t have to pretend that he didn’t see how seeing Y/N affected her so much. If they hadn’t moved, then they would have still been okay, still in love in whatever way that was. Jimin wanted to go back to before. So badly. She hated feeling this way. 

His lips tugged down into a sad smile. “I know.” 

Chapter Text

Dami knew she was a lot. 

How could she not when it was all anyone said, regardless of whether she was within ear-shot? 

Oh, leave her alone, she’s being Dami. 

Don’t talk to her unless you want your head bitten off. 

It bothered her. Those whispers were one of the reasons why she was constantly so angry. The other reasons were unknown, even to her. She was just so overcome with anger at times that she let it get to the best of her. She didn’t want to be known as the unapproachable, miserable teenager, but if she suddenly started acting like Choyeon or Isaac, then everyone would think she was having a stroke. She wouldn’t blame them either, because she honestly couldn’t imagine herself being as nice as either one of her best friends. 

Dami was a lot, but she was also very sensitive. She just hid that side of herself behind closed doors because she knew no one would actually take her seriously. Besides her dad, the only person who treated her normally was her Uncle Taro. He didn’t walk around her on tip toes, afraid that she would explode if he looked at her for a second too long like many of her aunts and uncles did. The other exception was her Uncle Renjun, who always fought with Uncle Taro for the title of Dami’s Favourite Uncle. She knew that both Uncle Chenle and Uncle Sungchan were also very fond of her, but her relationship with them was different from her relationship with Taro and Renjun. She didn’t know how to explain it, but Taro and Renjun just got her. They understood how hard it was for her to actually communicate how she felt, and they knew that she didn’t want to be so angry all the time. Chenle and Sungchan treated her just fine, but there were times where she got the feeling that they didn’t like her very much. 

Uncle Taro and Renjun were Dami’s angels. They didn’t know she called them that, but they were aware that they were special to her. She loved them way too much, maybe even a bit more than her own parents at times. It wasn’t their fault that her mom was so unbelievably overbearing at times, and that her dad still thought of her as an eleven year old. She was grateful to them for treating her like a normal person and not a ticking time bomb. Dami felt comfortable enough with them to talk about some of her problems, but she still kept the big stuff to herself because it felt like a burden to unload everything onto them. That and the fact that she knew they would immediately go to her mother with The Big Stuff.

Dami knew that her problems were small, if compared to literally anyone else, but they were still her problems, and she was still a human being with feelings. A human being with some very complicated feelings. She talked to Taro about the way her mom always compared her to her clients, and how it made her feel so guilty for complaining about certain things, and that the guilt would eat at her in the aftermath of one of their arguments. It had been really bad recently, her guilt. She could see how tired her mom was, and she couldn’t help but blame herself at times. It was obvious from the get-go that her mom had been blind-sighted by the sudden reappearance of Sua’s parents, but Dami still made it a priority to egg her on. She didn’t know why she did it—maybe to get back at her for the way she treated her, or maybe to just get under her mom’s skin more than she already did. Dami didn’t know, but it left her feeling horrible, especially over the past few weeks. 

She knew it had been a bad idea—digging into her mom’s past with Doha and Sua and Sumi. Dami told herself that she only did it because she’d never seen her mom so shaken up before, but that should’ve made her worried instead of interrogative. Whatever, though, because she was paying for it now. 

Sua Lee had turned into one of Dami’s biggest problems. If only she’d known that at the beginning, then she wouldn’t have bothered talking to her at the bus stop the morning after her mom and Sua’s dad’s awkward reunion. Dami didn’t even think of Sua as a threat when she first introduced her to the twins and Isaac. She was just overcome with curiosity and wanted to get to the bottom of how her mom knew Sua’s dad. That was it . But, of course, fucking Juyeon Jung had to piss her off by talking to Sua all the time. It wasn’t like he was being slick about it either. He suddenly started having lunch with her and Isaac and Choyeon just because Sua was there when he previously would have rather been caught dead than eat in the cafeteria. She should’ve seen it coming, though. New girls at her school were like dick magnets, especially when they looked like they were carved by goddesses themselves. 

Dami knew that she shouldn’t blame Sua. It wasn’t her fault that Juyeon was a prick. Nor was it her fault that Dami happened to fall into the traps of said prick. Things between her and Juyeon were complicated, but she knew that he was being all nice to Sua on purpose. Her mom was wrong about him, when she said that Juyeon looked at Dami’s reactions because he cared about what she thought. Dami wanted to believe it so badly, so she allowed herself to do so, just for a second, because she wanted it to be true. However, Juyeon only looked at her because he knew what pissed her off. He knew that listening to her dad’s dad-jokes were beyond painful, and that Uncle Chenle’s drunken dance routines caused her a lot of second-hand embarrassment. He also knew that seeing him talk to other girls pissed Dami off, so that’s what he did whenever he thought things were a little too peaceful between them. 

If her mom knew that that was how he treated her, Juyeon would’ve mysteriously disappeared a long time ago. That was why she kept this whole thing a secret from everyone. Not even Choyeon knew, and she was Dami’s best friend and Juyeon’s twin sister. She was just too much of an optimist that she thought that Juyeon finally gave up on his tough guy act and embraced his friendship with Dami—and Isaac, for that matter, since Juyeon had started hanging out with the three of them more often. Isaac—and probably Doha—were the only ones who knew the true nature of Dami and Juyeon’s relationship. 

Dami didn’t know what to do about him, or Sua, for that matter. Not only was Juyeon such a big fan of the girl, but so were Choyeon and Isaac. It didn’t help that Sua came to Dami’s rescue the other day when she was sick. It just added to the weird appeal she had on all of Dami’s friends. Choyeon had called her Dami’s hero , and it took all of Dami’s willpower not to smack off the stupid smirk that had curled onto Juyeon’s lips, his eyes dancing with obvious amusement at the entire situation. 

Having Sua’s mom—AKA, the reason for her mom’s stress—pick her up, drive her to her house, and proceed to make her soup was probably the most embarrassing thing Dami had happen to her since that one day in the summer when her family went over to the Jung’s to swim and Uncle Sungchan walked in on her changing into her bathing suit. It had been the most painful thirteen minutes of her life, sitting in the car with Sua’s mom, but the woman just had to extend it by offering to make her soup. Dami didn’t know why she didn’t refuse her offer, as she very well could have ordered something off of UberEats, but Sua’s mom looked so concerned and Dami had been rude enough to her. Not only that, but she figured she could try to pry into the drama that existed between her mother and Sua’s.

When she tried, however, Sua’s mom quickly dismissed her efforts and continued to work on the soup she had concocted with whatever Dami had found for her in the pantry. Dami knew it was stupid to expect her to tell her everything when her own mother hadn’t uttered a word about the whole ordeal, but she wanted to try. It was weird to think that her mother had once been young, despite having seen pictures of her growing up and heard countless stories from her uncles and aunts. To be reminded of it—her mother’s youth—this time around, with new people from her past, was especially weird because not once did Dami stop to consider that her past wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. She didn’t know why, but Dami had always assumed that her mother lived the perfect life—why would she think otherwise, when her mom maintained friendships with Uncle Taro and Auntie Jeong from elementary school, and married someone she’d met in university? From Dami’s perspective, she had a fun, fulfilling life with little to complain about, apart from, perhaps, having her, Dami, as a daughter. 

So after this whole thing—Sua’s family moving in across the street—unfolded, Dami finally realized that there were things from her mom’s past that she had absolutely no idea about. She didn’t like to entertain the idea of her mom having a tough time in university because she was just a girl then, not much older than Dami herself. She would never admit it aloud, but the thought of her mom being hurt by Sua’s parents upset her. All she wanted to do was figure out what it was that made them—most especially her own mother and Sua’s mother—so tense around each other, but this time without the help of Sua and Sumi. 

It had been two days since Dami fell sick. She spent the majority of the time in bed, curled up in her pajamas with Vicks slathered over her chest and under her nose and her trash can overflowing with tissues. Her nose was raw from blowing it, voice nasally from the congestion, and head aching with every movement. It was the worst thing in the world—being sick. Every time she would fall ill, she would try to remember what it was like to feel healthy, to be able to breathe through both nostrils and get through one sentence without coughing. Dami knew she was dramatic—it was in her nature—but being sick was the one time where her theatrics were tolerated. It allowed her to get away with things she otherwise wouldn’t, like having her food brought up to her room by her father, or not going to school. 

Dami was unlucky, this time, to get sick on a Thursday, so she really only got Friday off. It was a waste to get a three and a half day weekend instead of a full week off school, but she knew she would be getting sick again soon. Her immune system had weakened over the course of the year, and she would be lying if she said it wasn’t her fault. The reasoning wasn’t obvious to those not looking for it, but if someone were to be paying full attention to her, they would be able to spot it immediately. It was clear, then, that no one was paying Dami much attention since she had yet to have someone call her out on it. 

Today Dami was lying miserably in a heap of blankets, watching old episodes of Modern Family on her laptop, when the doorbell rang. Her parents and siblings had left an hour earlier to pay their paternal grandparents a visit. Her mother wanted to stay behind in case Dami needed anything, but Dami managed to convince her that all she’d be doing was napping and watching TV. While she liked to be pampered when she was sick, Dami wanted to be left alone. She didn’t want her mom taking care of her because it made her feel even guiltier for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.

Assuming it was just a Bell provider who would try to convince her to switch over from Cogeco, Dami remained in bed, barely reacting to the sound. She was watching her favourite episode; it was the one in which Mitch and Phil took edibles and were called back to the Dunphy house once Claire suspected Luke and Manny of throwing a party. She could recite the entire episode word for word as a result of the numerous times she’d watched it.

Dami’s bliss was interrupted with an iMessage notification that popped up on her screen.

juyeon j : are u home?

juyeon j : i’m outside ur front door

Dami shot up in bed, head dizzy with the sudden movement, and immediately looked at her reflection in her phone camera. Her nose was quite red, eyes a bit droopy, but otherwise she didn’t look as disgusting as the previous day. Getting out of bed, she hid her overflowing trash can underneath her desk and threw all of her dirty clothes into her hamper before finally heading downstairs. She didn’t know exactly what Juyeon was doing here when he knew she was sick, but wanted to be at least semi-prepared in case he wanted to come up to her room. 

It wasn’t unusual for him to come over when her parents were gone. It was almost routine. Dami would send a sly text, Juyeon would respond with a vague thumbs up emoji and show up within the twelve minutes it took to get from his house to hers. They would proceed to either go up to her room and fool around until Doha warned her of the inevitable parental return, or they would set off in his car around the area; their go-to spots were the ChaTime that was by their school because Auntie Yizhou tended to go to the one by Dami’s house, or this cozy book cafe that was right beside a weed store. (Juyeon had a fake ID, so let’s just say that the cozy cafe always became even cozier after about fifteen minutes.)

Dami quickly ran her fingers through her unkempt hair and hoped for the best as she finally opened the front door. 

There he was—the prick, the stupid, stupid boy who had caught her heart in his hands and wouldn’t let go no matter how hard Dami tried—with a wrapped tupperware dish in hand. Juyeon’s hair had grown over the first couple months of school, poking out from beneath the beanie he pulled over his head and tickling his neck. Dami always liked his hair this length. It was nice to run her fingers through when they were alone. He was wearing a pair of black baggy jeans and a band hoodie that once had belonged to his father despite the low temperature; Juyeon had a tendency to wait until it was cold enough to see one’s breath in the air to take out his jacket. He thought he was much too cool to be seen taking care of himself otherwise. 

He peered up upon hearing the front door open. A small smile tugged at his lips once his eyes settled upon the sick Dami, causing her cheeks to flush involuntarily. It was moments like these where she forgot that Juyeon Jung was an asshole, falling victim to his tricks and allowing him to lead her on. It almost always seemed so genuine, so sue her for believing him! This time, however, she wanted to believe it to be true, because he hadn’t once come over when she was sick. 

“Hey,” he greeted. 

“Hi,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest to protect herself from the chill outside. “What are you doing here?”

Juyeon motioned to the tupperware in hand. “My mom made you some soup,” he replied, “and I thought I’d bring it over.”

“Oh…” Dami bit back a smile.

Had he volunteered himself? Or did Auntie Jeong send him? Choyeon could have very well come over instead; though she preferred to be a Passenger Princess, she was more than capable of driving alone. Plus, it was Saturday, so she didn’t have swim practice or volunteering at the animal shelter. Dami didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it almost seemed as if Juyeon actually wanted to see her. Maybe being away from each other for the past two days made him miss her. That couldn’t be the case, though; did Juyeon actually miss her? Dami felt like swooning, but she tried to stand her ground, passing it off as the headache she thought she’d gotten rid of with the help of her new best friend, Tylenol Cold & Sinus. 

“So…can I come in?” Juyeon asked. 

“Yeah,” Dami nodded, stepping aside to let him through. 

He entered the house, handing Dami the tupperware so he could unlace his Converse sneakers. They were quite old and worn out; his right one was on the edge of breaking by the sole, but he was adamant on wearing them. Dami didn’t know why; he worked part-time at the Home Hardware store that was just between his house and Dami’s. He had saved enough to buy himself a new pair of shoes, but he tended to use his money only on gas and food. If Dami had her own job, she would go crazy with shopping. Maybe it was a good thing her mother put an age limit on her first job. 

“So, how are you feeling?” Juyeon asked once his shoes were off and placed on the shoe rack. 

Dami locked the door behind them. “I’m still a bit stuffy, but much better than on Thursday.”

He smirked slightly, raising a hand to point at her face. “Your nose is all red.”

She scrunched her nose at him as they walked further into the house. “Well, duh ,” she replied. “Didn’t I just say that I’m still stuffy?”

“Relax, it’s cute,” he chuckled. 

Dami set the tupperware on the kitchen counter, trying to ignore the way her stomach somersaulted at the comment. She was supposed to be annoyed at him. She couldn’t give in to him, not when he’d been aggravating her on purpose for the past few weeks. What did he think was going to happen? She’d forgive him just because he brought her soup and called her cute? 

Well…

No . Dami needed to be strong. She needed to stand her ground and ignore his sudden niceties. He was just doing this to get one thing and one thing only, and she definitely wasn’t going to give in. After all, didn’t he have his shiny new toy who went by the name of Sua Lee? She was just across the street, so he could very well go over to her if his efforts to get a make-out session didn’t work with Dami. He should just go now, see if Dami cared. 

“Jheez, what’s with the pout?” Juyeon asked, bringing Dami out of her thoughts. 

She corrected her face quickly, not noticing that her expression had soured. “Nothing,” she said, trying to figure out what exactly he wanted. “Is this the only reason you came over?”

He glanced at the tupperware she had motioned to, before looking back at her. A teasing smile tugged at his lips, “Why? Want me to leave already?”

“I didn’t say that,” Dami said, leaning her hip against the counter as she looked up at him, trying to read the expression on his face. 

Juyeon had a tendency to hide his feelings from people, and Dami was no exception. The only person, apart from Choyeon, who had nailed the Juyeon-Jung-Expression was, ironically enough, Dami’s mother. Not even his parents could tell what he was thinking at times. Dami thought this to be a flaw in their parenting, because her own parents seemed to know from just a scrunch in her nose that something had irritated her. Granted, they didn’t know every single thing about her and her feelings, but they were much more attuned to them than Auntie Jeong and Uncle Sungchan were to Juyeon’s. 

The teasing look on Juyeon’s face could only mean one of two things: one, he thought he caught her in the Mood™ and was trying to embarrass her; or, two, he thought she was still pissed at him for the way he’d been treating her. She honestly didn’t know which one of the two was true. Every time she saw him outside of school, when it was just the two of them, all reason went out of her head. She simply acted with her raging hormones and regretted later when he would give her the cold shoulder. It wasn’t often—the latter—but it didn’t make it any better when he did. It would only lead her to become angrier than usual, which meant she would lash out at her mother or Dayeon in retaliation. It was unfair—even Dami recognized that. It was unhealthy, too, but what else could she do? Tell Juyeon it was completely over and watch him do the same thing to Sua? No . While she disliked Sua for the sole reason of having captured Juyeon’s attention for the past few weeks, she still had the decency to save her from the emotional turmoil that would inevitably result from being his situationship. 

“Then what?” he asked, still wearing that stupid smile Dami so badly wanted to smack from his face. 

“Jheez, nothing,” she muttered, averting her gaze. “I told you. I’m still not feeling well.”

He ducked down and peered into her face with a flash of concern in his eyes. “Do you want me to heat up the soup for you?” he murmured.

Dami looked back into his eyes and wondered what on earth was happening. She had never seen him look at her that way, nor speak to her with such care. Did he actually care about her? It seemed genuine enough…

“No, I’m not hungry right now,” Dami replied, voice quiet. 

“Then why don’t you go up and lay down?” He suggested, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek with a slight furrow of his brow. “Oh, good…you don’t have a temperature.”

Dami’s mind was going into a frenzy. What the fuck happened over the past two days for Juyeon Jung to act like this ? Did he somehow realize his feelings for Dami were beyond his usual hit-it-and-quit-it? Was he trying to show her how he really felt about her? It didn’t make any sense, and it didn’t help that Dami was sick; it left her feeling more delusional than usual. 

Before she knew what was going on, Juyeon was in her room, looking around in interest, as if he hadn’t been inside of it a billion times before. Dami was at war with herself; she shouldn’t have let him upstairs, but who knew what would’ve happened if she made him leave. The last thing she wanted was for him to go across the street and try something on Sua Lee. She wanted Juyeon all to herself, even if she wasn’t feeling her best. It was so annoying— he was so annoying; how could he possibly have such a hold on her? 

“Wanna watch Modern Family?” she asked, motioning to her laptop that she had left open amidst her rush to get downstairs.

Juyeon chuckled. “You and that show.” 

“What can I say? It’s a good show,” she said with a small shrug.

“It’s ancient , Dami,” he emphasized playfully. “Our parents were kids when it came out.” 

She sat down on her bed and pulled her laptop closer to her, feeling a bit self-conscious. “It’s my comfort show, so…” 

“I know it is,” he said, voice, once again, surprisingly gentle. 

Dami felt her bed dip with Juyeon’s added weight. She peered up and saw him looking back at her with an amused smile, which was unlike the ones he always gave her at school. The difference now was that it was soft, genuine, and appeared almost naturally on his lips. It was a nice change to his usual mocking smiles, but Dami didn’t want to fall further into his tricks than she already had. It was already going too far now that he was on her bed. 

She sighed heavily, looking at him with an expression that read don’t bullshit me . “What are you doing here, Juyeon?”

Juyeon blinked, confused. “What do you mean? I brought you soup.” 

“Yeah,” Dami nodded, knowing that questioning it was only going to make things worse, “but why ?”

“Why?” he repeated. “What do you mean, why ? You aren’t feeling well, so I thought it’d be nice to bring you something to make you feel better.”

“And that’s it?” she asked. 

He paused, peering at her through squinted eyes as if to read between the lines. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Dami. I came to bring you soup and to see how you were doing. Is that such a surprise to you?”

“Yeah, it is, actually,” she replied. 

“Whatever, okay? Can we just watch the show?” he motioned to her laptop that was still open by her knees. “Is that why you’re grilling me? Because I dissed the show?”

Dami shook her head, not in the mood to argue with him. “Okay, let’s watch the show.”

“Okay,” he puffed out, moving around so that he was on her other side, leaning back against the headboard. 

Dami set the laptop between them and pressed play, resuming the episode where she had left off. She leaned back and stretched her legs out in front of her on the blanket. 

It was quiet between them for about ten minutes before Juyeon suddenly said, “I wanted to see you.” 

Dami looked over at him, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again,” he muttered, not looking at her. 

She felt her stomach fill with butterflies. Oh, those godforsaken butterflies. They always appeared whenever Juyeon said the right thing. She wasn’t entirely sure whether he was telling the truth this time, but she knew his cheeks weren’t flushed from the cold. 

“I won’t,” she murmured. 

He reached over and took her hand, interlocking their fingers. 

Dami tried not to smile. It was hard to fight it, especially when Juyeon did things like this. She doubted he’d ever done this with any other girl. She knew she was special to him and not just because they grew up together. 

“What did I miss at school yesterday?” she asked. 

Juyeon finally looked over at her, grinning. “Ced pulled the fire alarm during our bio test third period.”

“Nice,” she snickered. 

Cedric Jung was Juyeon’s cousin and best friend. They were only a week apart in age and grew up doing everything together, including pestering Dami and wreaking havoc in their family. Dami couldn’t understand how Uncle Sungchan and his older brother Jaehyun managed to have sons like Juyeon and Cedric, considering how opposite they were from their fathers. It was fine, though, because they each had another sane child to balance things out; Uncle Sungchan had Choyeon, who was his Everything, and Uncle Jaehyun had his older son Dominic who was currently attending Juilliard for music theory and composition. 

“It was great,” Juyeon’s voice was low, but the smile still graced his lips as he looked at her, causing her chest to fill with warmth. “He timed it perfectly. By the time the fire trucks left, the bell rang so we didn’t have time to finish it.”

Dami found herself getting closer to Juyeon as they spoke. Suddenly there was only a few centimetres between their faces and Dami’s heart was beating erratically in her chest. She shouldn’t be doing this, falling into his trap yet again, but she was sick and stupid and her head was pounding and—

Juyeon’s lips were on hers. 

Story over. 

Dami’s hands fisted the fabric of his sweatshirt and he tangled his through her hair. Their lips were melting against each other as if they were made for each other, which was exactly what Dami liked to think—that she and Juyeon Jung were made for one another. There was no other boy in the world that she had ever liked. Since day one, her eyes had been on Juyeon alone, even when he pulled her pigtails and called her names and told Isaac she liked him. Dami had always liked Juyeon, and the fact that they were in this stupid, stupid situationship made her feel like both the luckiest girl ever and such a fool. How could one boy make her feel like this and not even show the slightest bit of care? It hurt, but right now she tried not to think about that. She just wanted to feel like she was the only one for him. 

Dami was on her back, watching as Juyeon pulled off his hoodie, and in the process, his beanie, above her. She had never seen him smile this much before, but the sight of it on his lips as he tossed his hoodie aside made her stomach flutter even more than it was. Maybe this was a good sign.

Her eyes zeroed in on the flash on his wrists as he brought his hands up to purposely mess up his hair. His right wrist had a vintage watch wrapped around it; he bought it when he, Dami, Choyeon and Isaac went thrifting in downtown Toronto. The thing that caught Dami’s attention was the newest addition to his left wrist. Typically, there were always two bracelets covering his left wrist; a pink and white one that Choyeon had made for him when they were twelve, and a leather one that had a silver J pendant in the middle. However, there was now an unfamiliar one tangled between the one Choyeon made him. It was black and white and had his name written with beaded letters. 

“What’s that?” Dami asked, pointing to the bracelet. 

Juyeon looked distractedly. “Huh? Oh, a bracelet thing.”

“Did Choyeon make it for you?”

“No,” he replied, leaning back down so that he was pressing his body against hers; she could feel the hard imprint of his dick against her thigh and knew that he wasn’t paying attention. 

“Who made it for you?” 

Juyeon’s lips were pressing hot kisses down Dami’s jaw and into her neck. She would be going absolutely feral right now if it weren’t for that insistent gnawing feeling in her chest. She was going to make this into a big deal and for what? To get hurt again? She knew she should just let it go because it was just a dumb bracelet, but Juyeon refused to wear the one she made for him. If this new bracelet was made by a specific person who had been getting on her nerves for the past few weeks, then all hell would break loose—with Juyeon’s hard-on getting progressively harder—

“ Juyeon .” Dami pushed his face away from her neck and looked at him. 

“What?” he panted, peering into her eyes with lust. 

“Who made you that bracelet?” she repeated. 

“Why does it matter?” he asked. 

“It matters because two days ago you didn’t have it!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dami…” Juyeon pushed himself off of her and threaded his fingers through his hair, annoyed. 

Dami sat upright and glared at him. “Go on, then. Tell me who made it for you.”

“Why are you acting so crazy? It’s just a brace—”

“If it’s just a bracelet, why aren’t you wearing the one I made for you last month?” 

“God, Dami, you make it so impossible to—”

“ Me ?!” she hissed, feeling a storm rage inside of her. “You’re the one who doesn’t care about anyone but himself—”

He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated, “It’s a fucking bracelet !” 

“From Sua !” Dami shrieked. 

“ So fucking what ?!” he snapped, voice raised. “She made one for all of us—including you, by the way! Should we open the window so she can hear how much you hate her bracelets?”

“Go right ahead! Might as well ask her if she can blow you while you’re at it!” 

Juyeon let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Wow, Dami. You’re fucking insane.” 

A feeling of hatred burned in her chest as she stared at him. She couldn’t believe it; why had she let him in? She was home alone for a reason. If only she hadn’t let him get the best of her, then she’d be happily watching Modern Family and waiting for her family to get back. But no, she was stupid, dumb, and unbelievably naive. How could she have even believed him when he said that he wanted to see her? All he wanted was her to get him off. She should’ve known better. 

“Gee, thanks,” she said coolly, now trying to keep her anger at bay so as not to seem as crazy as he and everyone else made her out to be. “Just go.”

Juyeon looked at her, a mixture of surprise and frustration etched onto his annoyingly handsome face. It looked like he was about to protest, but he squared his jaw, reached over to grab his hoodie and beanie, and left without another word. 

Dami hated herself. All she wanted was to be normal—less angry, less stupid, less her . She wanted to be like Choyeon, who didn’t seem to be particularly concerned about boys or the little things that irked Dami. She was everything Dami wasn’t, and for that Dami was envious. 

Chapter Text

There was something off with Dami, and you couldn’t figure it out. 

She was much quieter than usual and, instead of hiding out in her bedroom like she always did, she was now spending more time in the family room. You weren’t opposed to her increased presence downstairs; it was just concerning, especially with the way she was behaving. She hadn’t initiated an argument with you in weeks and stopped asking about Jimin altogether. To top it all off, she was actually being civil with Dayeon—something you never thought would have been possible until they were well into their 20s. You didn’t want to question her for fear of pushing the resume button, but you didn’t know what to do to help her.

It was obvious that there was something bothering Dami, but you weren’t sure if it was because of Juyeon or Sua, or something completely unrelated. When you asked Shotaro if she had told him anything, he left you both surprised and disappointed with his lack of new information. He’d told you that Dami had yet to respond to his own messages that he sent a few days ago, which was an immediate red flag. There was never a moment where Dami left him on delivered, so you both knew something was really wrong. 

You had taken the day off work to prepare some treats for Dami after her soccer finals. While you knew it probably wouldn’t mean much to her, you thought it would be nice to show her how proud you were. It was due to Dami and Choyeon’s talent that their team had made it this far into the season. While the other girls were good, none were as gifted as your daughter and her best friend. 

You spent the day in your worn out Western University merch, hair held up by a claw clip, with your speaker blasting songs you grew up with. It left you feeling quite nostalgic, thinking about the numerous times you’d done the exact same thing in your university apartment with Shotaro and Minjeong. Sometimes you couldn’t believe how much time had passed since your university days. It seemed surreal that you were no longer that bright-eyed, twenty year old who thought she had the world at her fingertips. You were always reminded of that fact whenever Dami screeched on about how unfair and unreasonable you were being. It made you wonder what your twenty year old self would think if she saw you now. Would she be disappointed? Or unsurprised that she turned out exactly like her mother? 

By the time Jisung returned home with Doha and Dayeon, you were placing the finished baking products onto your fancier plates. You hoped Dami would appreciate the gesture after the game, no matter what the outcome was. She didn’t seem very ecstatic about it this morning when she was leaving for school, and you only hoped that she wouldn’t let whatever was bothering her get in the way of her performance. 

“Ooh, that smells good, Mommy!” Dayeon gushed as she ran up to give you a hug. 

You chuckled, squeezing her tightly before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, honey.”

“Can I have one?” Doha asked as he unceremoniously dumped all of his belongings onto the kitchen table. 

“No, these are for after Dami’s game,” you replied, “and knowing you, you’ll probably finish them all if I let you have even one.”

He scoffed playfully. “Wow, Mom. That’s so rude.”

“Yet true as ever,” Jisung chuckled, coming to a stop beside you and leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. “Hi, my love.”

You grinned at him. “Hi, babe. How was your day?”

“Chaotic as always, but good nonetheless,” he answered, matching the happiness in your smile. “How was yours?”

“Very productive!” you exclaimed, looking proudly at your little set-up. “Over here, we have Dami’s favourite cookies,” you motioned to a mountain of butterscotch chip cookies sitting on top of one of your white ornate dishes decorated with yellow napkins to represent her school colours. “Then we have some of the infamous desserts we used to bake when it was only the three of us,” you pointed to the next plate over that held more than a dozen blondies. “And, finally, the biggest and most delicious of all, the one thing that will forever have Dami’s heart!” 

Doha did a double take at the last item on the menu. “What the…” he looked at you and back at the dish. 

“Is that a waffle?” Dayeon asked, slightly confused. 

“Yes! But it’s not just any ordinary waffle,” you said, giddily, “it’s one made with love.” 

Doha groaned. “Mom!”

You and Jisung laughed. 

“That’s mom’s special ingredient, Dodo,” Jisung told him through his laughter. 

“Really?!” Dayeon gasped, eyes wide with curiosity. 

You jutted out your lip as you looked down into your youngest’s eyes. “Yes, of course, my sweet, sweet baby!” you cooed, squeezing her cheeks together with one hand, causing her to squeal out. 

“Ah, Mommy!”

“Seriously, Mom, is it just a waffle?” Doha asked as he emptied out his lunch bag. 

“No, it’s not just a waffle,” you said after kissing Dayeon’s face a bunch of times. “It’s a nutella waffle.”

Dayeon’s eyes widened again, but this time with greed. “Ooh! I can’t wait to eat it!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, princess,” Jisung chuckled. “Dami will have to decide if she wants to share with you guys.”

“Yeah, like she’d finish all of this by herself,” Doha snickered as he began to wash his lunch containers. “Dayeon, give me your lunch bag, please.”

-

By the time you made it to the bleachers, this time with a jacket and scarf, the national anthem was coming to an end. You would’ve made it on time if it weren’t for a last minute purge of Dayeon’s bedroom to find the poster she’d made of Dami. Doha had known where it was the entire time but didn’t say anything, just to poke at Dayeon for being so forgetful, which was the last thing you had wanted; a grumpy Dayeon was almost as bad as a normal Dami. 

Jisung had attempted to alleviate the tension that had grown between Doha and Dayeon by offering to stop by Dairy Queen on the way to the high school, but the latter was so grouchy that she turned her face away from him. It wasn’t often that she did that, so it was needless to say that it touched a nerve. Jisung was now dealing with the aftermath of Dayeon’s temper tantrum by trying to get her and Doha to make up on the sidelines. You knew it wasn’t going to lead anywhere, so you decided to focus on the field, where you immediately spotted Dami shaking hands with the opposing team. 

She seemed more lively than she had been in the morning, which you knew would happen. Dami could never be in a bad mood when playing soccer. It was her therapy. She could kick something around for hours and elbow other girls to a certain extent and not get into trouble for it. You tried encouraging her to get involved in a more heavy contact sport like lacrosse or hockey so she could release all of her pent-up anger, but she refused; soccer was her one and only dream. 

“I didn’t even do anything!” Doha’s complaints reached your ears, causing you to refocus on the negotiations that were proving to be unsuccessful. 

You turned to look at Jisung, wondering why he thought it was a good idea to have this conversation now, when the match was just about to start. Leave it to your least problematic kids to start something when they had always gotten along perfectly fine. Maybe it was because Dami suddenly did a 180 in her behaviour that your house was thrown off balance. You were not pleased with that thought whatsoever. 

“Do we really have to do this now?” you said to the kids firmly. “Your sister is about to play a very important game!”

“Oppa was the one who started it!” Dayeon whined, stomping her foot against the ground. 

“I don’t care who started it, you both need to smarten up,” you told them. “Dami needs our support. I can’t have either of you in a bad mood. Do you understand?”

Doha let out an agitated puff. “Yes.”

You looked at Dayeon, quirking an eyebrow. “Dayeon?”

“Fine.” She muttered, and if it weren’t for the circumstances, you would’ve squeezed her little cheeks because she looked so cute, all pouty and moody. 

“Good, now put some smiles on and go sit with the Zhong’s,” you said. 

As they made their way up the bleachers, Jisung looked at you and sighed. “You always complain about being the bad cop, but you never let me act like one.”

You smiled in amusement, patting his cheek in comfort. “That’s because it’s not in your nature, babe. It’s okay to be the soft one.”

“I know, but you can try and let me scold them once in a while,” he complained. 

“Okay, okay,” you relented with a chuckle, leaning in to kiss his pout away. 

Once Jisung was back to his smiley self, he grasped your hand, intertwined your fingers, and was about to lead you up the bleachers to find your friends. You, however, stumbled over your feet at the sight of an irritatingly familiar couple who had come to a stop just behind Jisung. Jeno was peering at his wife with the same questioning look on his face that you always seemed to catch, while Jimin stared at you with an inexplicable look in her eye.

“Oh, hi,” you greeted, wondering how long it would take until it was no longer awkward between the four of you. Probably never, you thought to yourself, considering you and Jimin had had sex, and all four of you were aware of it. 

“Hi, Y/N, Jisung,” Jeno said with a tight-lipped smile. “We were just following the girls up.”

“We were doing the same after attempting to resolve a sibling feud,” Jisung replied with a faux eye roll. 

“Which always happens right before something important,” you added with a shake of your head. 

Jeno chuckled, placing a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, causing her to snap out of whatever reverie she was in. “We know all too much about that, don’t we, baby?”

“Mhm? Oh, yes,” she nodded with a forced laugh, looking at him. “Should we go up?”

“Yeah,” he said, more than ready to get away from you and Jisung. “See you guys.”

Jisung just nodded his head in response, both of you watching as Jeno took Jimin’s hand in his and led her up the bleachers without another word.

“Okay, that was weird,” you chuckled once they were out of ear shot. 

“Not much weirder than usual,” Jisung shrugged, looking out onto the field distractedly; you couldn’t disagree with his statement, but before you could say anything, he quickly grabbed your hand and urged you up the bleachers as well. “Hurry, hurry, they’re about to start!” 

You laughed, feeling like you were twenty-two again—but, this time, at a Toronto Maple Leafs game—being ushered up the steps by a frenzy Jisung, who wanted to get to the seats before the face-off. The biggest difference between now and then was not just the sport, but the fact that your own daughter was among the athletes on the field right now. 

Jisung greeted your friends enthusiastically as the two of you reached the bench they occupied. “Hey!”

“What took you so long? Lele was going through Jisung-withdrawal!” Yizhou shrieked, as she scooted over so that Jisung could sit next to her husband. 

“The little ones were fighting,” you explained, sitting next to Yizhou and waving at Minjeong who was on Chenle’s other side. “Jeongie, I’m going through Jeong-withdrawal.”

She giggled. “Yeah, you better! I feel like I haven’t seen you in for-ever !” 

“What do you mean by little ones fighting?” Sungchan perked up, leaning across Minjeong to address you. “You don’t mean Doha and Dayeon, do you?”

“Of course she does—what other little ones would she be talking about?” Chenle pointed out snarkily. 

“I can’t even picture Doha in an argument, let alone with Dayeon!” 

Jisung chuckled. “Doha was finally being an annoying older brother to her, and it didn’t end very well.”

You looked down at the bench below you and found yourself confused; instead of looking at all of your kids, other high school students sat in their place with their school hoodies and hats on. “Where are the kids?” you voiced aloud. 

Yizhou pointed to the right. “They’re over there. Isaac met up with some of his friends, so the others joined them.”

You saw all the kids sitting along the bench two rows below yours. Isaac was sitting there with two boys you recognized from numerous birthday parties, yet you could not recall their names for the life of you. One of them was South Asian, his name starting with an A or an H—you couldn’t remember, but you did know that he was a sweet boy who never failed to thank Yizhou and Chenle for inviting him into their home. The other boy was white, so you knew he had a generic name, but you didn’t know why your mind was failing you at the moment. He was also a sweet boy—how could he not be when he was friends with Isaac?—but he was similar to Choyeon in terms of his goofiness. You remember him as a young boy, running around the Zhong’s backyard with his tongue out, acting as if he was a dog because one of the kids never had a pet before and wanted to know what it would have been like. 

On Isaac’s left sat Doha, who was no longer annoyed, as he was conversing happily with Jimin and Jeno’s youngest daughter. You immediately fought against the irritation that lurched up into your chest at the sight; you were trying to come to terms with the Lee’s presence, and in order to fully do that, you couldn’t be mad at the fact that your son happened to become friends with their daughter. You should have been proud of him for being so welcoming to Sumi instead of bothered by the implication that it meant having to see her parents more often than you would like. 

Then there was Dayeon, who had seemingly forgotten all about her argument with her brother. A bright smile covered her soft face, hands flying wildly in the air as she chattered nonstop to an attentive Liam. 

“Do you want some?” Yizhou nudged your arm, causing you to peel your eyes away from the kids. 

Your gaze fell upon the packet of peanut butter M&Ms she offered. A grin spread across your face instantly. “Is that even a question?”

Yizhou giggled, watching as you took a rather generous handful. “Thank you for not being an almond friend.” 

“What?” you said around a few M&Ms, surprised. “What made you say that?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. I just thought about how, throughout our entire friendship, I’ve never had to worry about my eating habits or weight when around you.”

You placed your free hand over hers and squeezed it, feeling touched that she shared such a vulnerable fact at the most random time. “Aw, Yizhou! I’m so glad you feel that way around me. I feel the same way with you. Even now!”

Minjeong leaned across Chenle in an attempt to listen to the sudden heart-to-heart you and Yizhou were having. “What are you guys talking about?” she asked, nose scrunched in displeasure at being left out.

“None of your business!” you teased as Yizhou stuck her tongue out at her. 

“That’s what you get for sitting with your hubby!” 

Minjeong scoffed. “Yeah, sorry for loving him.”

Sungchan’s cheeks immediately flushed. “Oh, stop it, Jeongie.”

“Um, can you sit with the girls? You’re kinda blocking my view!” Chenle snipped at Minjeong. 

She made a face at him. “What? You don’t like this view?” 

“Ugh, please,” he rolled his eyes. 

“What? I know you love me, Chenle,” Minjeong grinned. 

“No, I don’t,” he disagreed immediately. “I mildly tolerate you.”

An offended gasp sounded not from Minjeong, but from you, Yizhou, and Sungchan in unison. 

“How dare you!” 

“You’ve got a death wish, Lele!”

“Watch it, Zhong…”

Jisung watched on as an innocent bystander, though with a hint of an amused smile on his lips. “Alright, alright, can we watch our daughters play?” he finally brought all of your attention back to the reason why you were all gathered together. 

“Ooh, yes!” Chenle agreed, but not before he flicked Minjeong’s forehead. 

“What the hell?!” she muttered, hitting his shoulder in retaliation. “Fine, I’ll just sit with the wives, if that’s what you really want!”

“I don’t care, Mrs. Kim. Just hurry!” Chenle whined. 

Sungchan pouted as Minjeong left his side. She side-stepped her way past Chenle and Jisung and plopped down between the latter and Yizhou. “Now, that’s better,” she beamed. 

Yizhou offered her the M&Ms, which she gladly accepted with an excited hum. 

As Yizhou filled her in on what the two of you had been talking about, you looked out to the field to watch the game. Almost instantly, your eyes found Dami, for she was the one in possession of the ball, expertly working it with her feet and darting past the opposing players. A proud smile etched itself on your face. You loved how much passion she put into the sport, and as much as you tried to make it all about her, it was moments like these that made you think back to your own days playing soccer. Much like Dami, soccer had been your escape. It was a time where you could forget all about the unreasonable expectations your mother put upon you. You wondered whether Dami thought of it in the same way as you once did; whether she used soccer as a way to forget about all of the arguments the two of you had day in and day out. The thought made you feel guilty, because you never wanted to be the type of mother your own had been to you, but maybe it was just a curse each mother passed down to their daughter. 

“Dami’s on fire!” you heard Sungchan praise. 

“I expected nothing less!” Chenle agreed proudly. 

Jisung grinned at them. “That’s my little superstar!”

“Look at Cho-Cho go!” Yizhou cheered, pumping a fist in the air as Choyeon raced to an opening and caught the ball Dami passed with a chest bump. 

There had been a goal attempt, but the opposing team’s goalie stopped it, causing the crowd to groan with disappointment. 

Sungchan clapped his hands, calling out to the field as if he were the Hornet’s coach, “Good effort, good effort!”

You snickered, looking at Minjeong and Yizhou, “Sungchan’s so funny at these games.”

“He really is,” Yizhou agreed. 

“Choyeon loves it, but it’s one reason why Juyeon doesn’t come to these things,” Minjeong shared with a small shrug. “Oh well."

That piqued your interest, causing you to look back over at the kids. You noticed for the first time that Sua was sitting there between Isaac and one of his friends, while Juyeon was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t normally find it odd that Juyeon was missing, but the image of him chatting Sua up at the last game entered your mind, making you wonder why he wasn’t there doing the same thing again. 

“Poor Ju-Ju,” Yizhou cooed. “His cutesy dad totally ruins his bad boy image.”

“Right?!” Minjeong laughed. 

“I’m surprised Choyeon didn’t ask him to come, considering it’s the finals,” you said. 

“Oh, you know how he is, Y/N,” Minjeong replied lightly. “I didn’t want to push him, so he’s at home with the baby.”

The Baby™, AKA the Jung’s two year old goldendoodle, who was briefly named Paprika but later changed to Bambi. She was a fan favourite, especially by Liam, who preferred dogs over cats like his father, but was forced to have two cats and a gecko by his mother. 

The news about Juyeon staying home alone with Bambi didn’t strike you as odd until you realized that Dami had been incredibly down recently. You didn’t know if the two were correlated, but you wanted to get to the bottom of your daughter’s sudden fluctuation in mood. Of course, you wouldn’t ask her outright, especially after the game ended, because you wanted tonight to be all about her, but maybe you and Renjun could join forces and figure it out together. 

-

The final ended with a 3-2 win by Dami’s team. She had scored two of the goals herself, while Choyeon assisted the third one. It had, all in all, been a very intense but enjoyable game, and you were incredibly proud of both girls for their effort. 

By the time you all had made it down from the bleachers, both teams were shaking hands and congratulating each other for coming so far in the tournament. Dami was the first of the kids to reach the sidelines where most parents waited, immediately beelining to you, much to everyone’s surprise. 

“Hey, honey, great game!” you said cheerily, pulling her in for a hug. 

Her arms looped around your middle, and she stayed in the embrace for a fraction longer than you had expected, but you didn’t let the combination of concern and surprise show on your face when she pulled away. 

“Thanks, Mom,” she said, her tone worrying you even more; you’d thought playing soccer would have helped her get out of whatever funk she’d been in, but it must have just been in the moment. Now, she was back to being this weird, lethargic Dami that you didn’t know how to deal with. 

Jisung managed to fold her up in his arms, pressing a proud kiss to her head. “Dami-bear, how do you feel to be a Hornet Champion?!”

She smiled, though it didn’t quite match her eyes. “Oh, yeah, I feel great!”

“You did so well, Dami!” Sungchan praised. “Your footwork is next level!”

“Thanks, Uncle Sungchan,” she replied. 

“No, seriously, you’re so talented,” Chenle agreed. “You must have felt a lot of pressure to do well today.”

She shrugged, still wrapped up in Jisung’s embrace. “Thanks, Uncle Chenle. And, yeah, I guess.”

“Isn’t there an award ceremony after the finals?” Yizhou asked. 

“Oh, no, they changed it,” Dami said. “It won’t be till Friday during the school day.”

Minjeong scoffed. “Of course it is. They do this on purpose, you know?”

“What do they do on purpose?” You asked. 

“Make these important ceremonies during the day so parents miss it!” she exclaimed. “It would be ideal if they could just do it now, considering we’re all here!”

Chenle snickered. “You should complain.”

“I will if I have to!” she puffed at him. 

“It’s not a big deal, Auntie Jeong,” Dami insisted. “It’s not even an actual award. It’s, like, a ribbon or something.”

“Regardless of whether or not it’s a trophy or a ribbon, it’s still important!” Minjeong told her earnestly. “Dami, you were so incredible tonight; the school should be honouring your achievements in front of everyone!”

“What about Choyeon?” Dami murmured, appearing slightly guilty. “There’s only one MVP award per team.”

Sungchan waved a hand at her. “If anyone deserves the MVP award, it’s you!”

“One hundred percent!” Yizhou shrieked in agreement. “I know nothing about soccer, but my eyes always gravitate towards you whenever I watch these games.”

“See?” Choyeon popped out of nowhere, causing you to startle. She nudged Dami, who had immediately unravelled herself from Jisung’s arms, and said, “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Even my own parents think you’re a better player than me.”

“Oh, but—” Sungchan’s face visibly fell, but Choyeon grinned at him, “It’s okay, Dad. I’m more of a swimmer!”

You didn’t know whether it was hearing all of her aunts and uncles tell her how talented she was, or the reassurance from her best friend, but Dami finally perked up. She was now genuinely smiley and even joking around with Minjeong like she did when she was in a good mood. All the other kids finally joined you in time for group photos with Dayeon’s sign. 

You took pictures of your three kids, with Dami standing in the middle and holding up the sign Dayeon had made; then there were photos of just Dami and Choyeon in their uniforms, standing back to back with their arms crossed, using the 0.5 lens; after those, Isaac joined them, standing in the middle before doing different poses, which later caused all three of them to crumble to the ground from laughing so hard; Isaac’s friends, who you were reminded were named Aryan and Max, hopped in for a few minutes; and finally, a big group photo with Doha, Dayeon, and Liam at the end. There had been plenty of photos like these from the girls’ soccer tournaments that had accumulated over the years, which were sweet to have as they grew. 

It was just about time for all of you to head back to your place for some sweet treats, when Sua and Sumi came out of nowhere. 

“Hey! Great game, you guys!” Sumi exclaimed. 

“Aw, thank you!” Choyeon smiled kindly at her. “Thanks for coming.”

“It was the finals, we couldn’t miss it!” 

You could tell Dami wanted to leave more than ever. Her face suddenly twisted with annoyance at the sight of the two girls, and you couldn’t help but allow the same feeling to overcome you. It was the last thing you needed—someone (in this case, Sua) provoking Dami. She’d been happier just a moment ago, but of course, nothing could ever go according to plan. You didn’t even understand why Sua and Sumi were there, considering Dami wasn’t very friendly to them—at least the former—unless it was just an effort on their part to become part of the little group. 

“You played so well!” Sua said, causing Dami’s eyes to narrow, but you noticed that she wasn’t even looking at Dami; instead, her gaze was upon Choyeon, whose smile went from kind to almost shy. 

“Thanks, Sua!” she said, and if it weren’t for your overwhelming concern for your daughter, you would have noticed the heat rushing to Choyeon’s cheeks from the compliment. 

“What are you guys up to now?” Sumi asked, looking at Doha. 

You didn’t know why you nor any of the other adults were watching this whole interaction between the kids silently. Sometimes, you found it amusing to just observe the way your kids behaved; although you knew that they were people, too, you found it so fascinating how the little baby you’d once known and cared for now had a personality of their own. Now, however, it almost seemed as if everyone was waiting for Dami to blow up. 

“Oh, we’re just going back to the house to eat some of the snacks my mom made for Dami,” Doha replied.

“All of you?” Sua asked. “Will Juyeon be there, too?”

Oh… Now it all made sense. 

“No.” Dami said firmly. “Just me and my family.”

“What? Dami, I thought—” Choyeon began, but Isaac quickly cut her off, “ Ow! Dad, what was that for?”

Dami, Sua, and Choyeon all looked over at Chenle, who appeared to be beyond confused as to what his son had just meant. Yizhou stepped on his toe, causing him to snap into action, reaching out to hit Isaac on the back of his neck, causing Isaac to actually wince from the impact. “I saw a bug on you! It was really gross and big and I think it’s gone now!”

“Gee, thanks…” Isaac said, rubbing the back of his neck with a shake of his head. 

“Okay, so let’s go now,” Dami said with finality, looking at you to take the hint. 

“Yes, let’s,” you agreed, taking notice of Jimin and Jeno who were slowly approaching your large group. 

Rewind a bit—you didn’t understand why Jimin and Jeno came to these games. It was one thing for Yizhou and Chenle to attend, since they were your closest friends and their sons happened to be best friends with your daughters. It just didn’t make any sense for Jimin and Jeno to be there, especially when they didn’t make an effort to socialize with any of the other parents. As far as you knew, they only knew three pairs of parents: you and Jisung, Minjeong and Sungchan, and Yizhou and Chenle. You’d thought that after the latter’s Halloween party, they’d be more willing to sit with you and your friends, but that much was obvious when Jeno hurried to get as far away from you as possible earlier today. 

When they finally reached the group, not much was said except for Sua and Sumi’s disappointment in the lack of an after party. 

Chapter Text

The end of November came by in a series of chaotic events. 

First, the mess that unfolded after Dami had told Sua that it was just your family going back to the house after the finals. The Lees had clued in as to what Dami had meant when they arrived home and saw not only your and Jisung’s cars in the driveway, but the Jung’s and Zhong’s as well. To your displeasure, instead of being the chirpy girl she was, Choyeon hadn’t left the matter alone and kept pestering Dami about leaving Sua out of the celebrations. She couldn’t understand for the life of her why none of the adults agreed with her; why not one of them thought to go across the street and invite them over, as she had offered to do about five times until Dami went upstairs in a storm of rage and slammed her door so hard that everyone had flinched in unison. You had been beyond pissed off at that point, wondering why things had to be so difficult that you all couldn’t just focus on Dami and Choyeon’s big win. The Jung’s and Zhong’s didn’t overstay their welcome after that; it wasn’t until they had all left that you came to the realization that Dami hadn’t had any of the treats you had made specifically for her. (The waffle had been polished off by Sungchan and Liam, who had left your house with chocolate all over his little chin.) 

Next, everything at the office was so disorganized that you couldn’t even stop to breathe. You needed to fix everything that had been put out of place for the one day you took off for Dami’s finals. It was needless to say that you were one of the important people that the office needed to keep things working efficiently. You didn’t like to be given such a tiresome responsibility, but you’d been glued to the company for nearly as long as Doha had been alive. It wasn’t like you could do or say anything about the way things ran there, especially when you had offered to take on the additional role of being the office administrator. 

Then, there was the planning and execution of Dayeon’s ninth birthday party that had to be done. You sent out invitations to all of her friends a few weeks before the set date, where you made it explicitly clear for the parents to RSVP via email, to which four of seven of them had ignored. Jisung had resolved to ask the parents themselves in person when he picked up Dayeon from school, stopping the ones who you hadn’t yet heard from to ensure that there would be enough goodie bags. Dayeon had wanted a princess themed party, so you took her to Party City on the weekend to get all of the decorations you needed. Her birthday fell on a Saturday and the party on a Sunday afternoon, so you and Jisung, with the help of Doha, set up everything on Friday night in order to get at least one thing out of the way. On Saturday, Dayeon woke incredibly early and jumped on your and Jisung’s bed to announce that she was no longer an eight year old. It tore at your heartstrings—the fact that she was only a year away from being double digits—but you fought back the tears that threatened to surface and brought her in for cuddles with you and Jisung. The day had passed by faster than you thought: Jisung made crepes with lots of chocolate and strawberries; Dayeon opened her presents with excited shrieks; you took pictures of her with a smiley Doha and a quiet Dami; and the day ended with a dinner at Dayeon’s favourite restaurant, Turtle Jacks, where you were joined by both your parents and Jisung’s. 

Dayeon’s birthday party the following afternoon went by as smoothly as a nine year old’s party could go. All seven of her little friends attended, in addition to the Jung’s (with the exception of Juyeon, of course), the Zhong’s, and Shotaro and Renjun. Your brother Doyoung had moved to Vancouver for university and never moved back, so the only time you saw him was during Christmas, which was why your mother would never let you celebrate it with your friends. You had prepared a few games to entertain the kids, one of which involved a make-over on Jisung. The girls were thrilled to turn their friend’s dad into a princess, even going as far to paint his nails, whereas Liam was preoccupied with making his own charm bracelet at the table with Choyeon. One of the kids ended up eating too much cake and proceeded to throw up in the hallway, and another tripped over the cat after running at full speed with a plastic cup in hand. You knew kids would be kids and there would be bumps throughout the day, but you were just so exhausted by everything that you couldn’t deal with it all. Luckily, you had the greatest friends and husband in the world, otherwise you would’ve been sent to a psychiatric ward a long time ago. The party ended with a happy Dayeon and only a quarter of her Beauty and the Beast cake left over. 

It was needless to say that you had hoped for at least a few weeks of peace and quiet after all of these events. However, nothing was ever on your side, especially the following Wednesday when Dami came home angrier than you’d seen her in weeks with a crumpled piece of glittery paper in hand. She shoved it under your nose and told you to read it. After unravelling it, your eyes skimmed the sheet and dread filled your chest at once; it was an invitation to Sua Lee’s Sweet Sixteen. Her and Dami’s birthdays happened to be a week apart, and her party was to be held the day before Dami’s. You couldn’t think of a curse worse than this, and voicing that aloud would have done nothing but anger Dami further. 

Jisung had, in the end, been able to convince Dami that it wasn’t a bad thing that her and Sua’s birthday parties were so close to one another. You didn’t know whether she was truly convinced, considering how stubborn she could be, but you were glad that she had put an end to her dramatics for the time being. You just didn’t know how to tell her that she should reciprocate the act of kindness and invite Sua to her party as well. 

“How do you think it’s going to go?” you asked Jisung wearily as you peeled off your top.  

“Um…I don’t know,” he answered, cheeks flushed at the sight of you in just your bra. 

You rolled your eyes, snickering, “Get your head out of the gutter, Mr. Park.”

“What? I can’t help it,” he said shyly, even after all these years. “You’re so beautiful.”

Now it was your turn for heat to rush to your cheeks. It was compliments like these, in addition to the look of nothing but love and adoration in Jisung’s eyes, that made you feel just that: beautiful. While you’d been insecure of Jimin and Jeno’s flawless appearance, you knew that you were just as pretty as you’d been in university. Sure, you’d aged and gained some weight here and there, but you weren’t self conscious about it—that was, until Jimin came along and made you wonder how it was possible that she had birthed three children. Nonetheless, you’d always known you were attractive, but to hear it from Jisung made you feel all the more special. 

“So are you,” you murmured, smiling softly at him. 

Sometimes you found yourself amazed that after twenty-two years together, you still had the same effect on Jisung. Watching him tilt his head back with his eyes closed and that sexy smirk of his made you want to climb him and devour him whole. However, time wouldn’t allow you to do that today, and neither would the three kids down the hall. (But that didn’t mean you couldn’t fool around for a little while…)

“Why do you do this to me?” Jisung groaned as you walked over and pressed your chest against his, snaking your hands up his chest and lacing your fingers together behind his neck. 

“Because,” you breathed as he opened his eyes and peered down into yours, “I want you.”

“Fuck , baby…” he hissed, his hands on your waist attempting to pull you closer despite it being rather impossible. 

You could feel the burning sensation build up in the pit of your stomach, as well as in between your legs, and it took everything in you not to just succumb to your horniness. “Maybe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as your lips brushed against Jisung’s, “maybe we can slip out for a bit…come back here…”

“Mm, good idea,” he mumbled before finally capturing your lips with his. 

There was a lot of touching—from you running your fingers through his hair, to him pressing his nails into the small of your back; then your hands sliding underneath his shirt to feel his smooth chest, and his reaching down to grab your ass. There was also a lot of moaning, mostly on Jisung’s part. You didn’t think it’d been that long since you last had sex or anything remotely as hot or passionate as this, but you realized with a small jolt that it had been at least a month. Sure, you’d had makeout sessions at night before going to bed, but those were soft and gentle, unlike now. Now, it was pure heat and teeth; Jisung’s were grazing against your neck and you were panting, feeling much like your twenty-three year old self. You were just about to make things much, much worse but before you could even touch the waistband of his sweatpants, your bedroom door burst open. 

“Mom—oh my god ! Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew!” Dami shrieked, causing you and Jisung to immediately fling yourselves backwards, away from each other. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you said, trying to get your head on straight while also covering your chest with Jisung’s shirt that you’d taken off in the midst of your passionate makeout.

“Oh my god!” she repeated, and when you looked over at her you saw that her eyes were clenched shut with a look of utter disgust on her face. “Why didn’t you lock the door?!”

Jisung had wordlessly walked into the en-suite bathroom, his face beet red and shielding the front of his pants with the shirt you had discarded earlier. 

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” you repeated, feeling foolish. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah—my memory erased!” she scoffed. 

“Other than that, I mean,” you said, quickly slipping on Jisung’s shirt so you weren’t talking to her shirtless. 

“Oh, just forget it!” she complained. “It’ll be better for me to go to this stupid party now. I won’t have to see that gross image in my mind if I have to stare at Sua the Princess the whole evening!”

With that, she turned, eyes still clenched shut, and exited your room with an aggravated huff, slamming the door shut behind her. 

You let out a heavy breath, feeling both conflicted and (still) aroused from moments before Dami’s interruption. It was difficult, being an angry teenager like Dami, but it was even harder for you as her mother to understand what she was truly feeling. You just wished she would confide in you about whatever was bothering her, especially with regards to her one-sided hatred of Sua Lee. Of course, it had something to do with Juyeon, but you hadn’t seen him in what felt like weeks, let alone heard his name uttered from Dami’s lips. You didn’t know what you were going to do, but all you knew was that you needed Dami to survive Sua’s party. 

By the time you were all standing on the Lee’s front steps, Dami seemed to realize that this was the last place she wanted to be. She stood behind a giggly Dayeon with a dejected look on her face, and you knew that she would’ve done anything to get out of going. However, before she could negotiate anything with you, the front door opened and Jimin was standing there, looking lovely as ever in a simple cable knit sweater and jeans. 

“Hi!” she greeted, a small smile on her lips as she looked at everyone but you. “Come in, please!”

At once, you found yourself wishing you hadn’t come. It wasn’t like you had been fond of the idea from the moment Dami had handed you the invitation, but she told you that she would only go if you went too. That, and the fact that Minjeong and Yizhou had also been invited, as were Choyeon and Isaac. You thought you ought to go to be a kind person and make up for the whole Hornet’s Finals debacle. Plus, you would never throw down an opportunity to hang out with your friends, even if it just so happened to be at your ex-girlfriend’s daughter’s birthday party. However, it seemed as if Jimin had been hoping you and Jisung would have just sent the kids alone. 

Nonetheless, the five of you shuffled into the Lee’s house, adding your shoes to the enormous pile by the door and shimmying out of your jackets. Jimin had loaded the jackets onto her arms and took them into the mudroom where the rest were, while you took the moment to whisper to Dami to behave. Dayeon was practically vibrating with excitement and Doha seemed particularly happy about being able to see Sumi outside of school, whereas it looked as if you’d dragged Dami to a zoo and were about to push her into a lion cage. You didn’t blame her for it, but the least she could do was put on the same polite smile you had on your face and pretend that this was fun. 

When Jimin returned, she seemed surprised to see you all still standing in the entrance. “Oh, please, go on in!” she said, waving her hand down the hallway. “Everyone’s inside.” 

“Great, thanks,” Jisung answered, watching as Doha and Dayeon quickly brushed past him to find Sumi and Liam (for you’d seen the Zhong’s car parked in front of your house). 

You nudged Dami. 

“Oh,” she put on a very tight, close-lipped smile and offered a gift bag to Jimin, “this is for Sua.”

Jimin’s smile softened as she took it from her. “That’s very kind of you, Dami. Thank you.”

“No worries,” she mumbled. 

You were about to follow the kids down the hall when somebody came out of the room next to the entrance with two little girls hanging off his arms and legs. Upon seeing his face, your face morphed into one of shock. You didn’t know why you were even surprised to see him, considering he was Jeno’s best friend, but you’d forgotten about the inevitability of finally reuniting with other familiar faces from university. 

“Oh my goodness!” Jaemin Na exclaimed upon seeing you; he had the same goofy smile you’d first seen after getting out of your parent’s car for your dormitory drop-off. “Well, hello there, stranger!”

You felt a genuine smile spread across your lips as all the wonderful memories you’d shared together raced through your mind. “Hey, you,” you said. 

“Daddy, who is that?” One of the little girls asked, peering up at you with big brown eyes. 

“Yeah, who is he, Mom?” Dami asked, looking at Jaemin with interest. 

“This, here, my darlings, is an old friend of Daddy’s,” Jaemin told his daughters, who seemed to be around Dayeon’s age. “Her name is Auntie Y/N.”

You didn’t know whether you wanted to be considered Jaemin Na’s daughters’ Auntie, but that was just how Koreans were. Plus, they didn’t need to know the long story as to why the two of you lost contact. “Hi!” you smiled at them warmly, noticing that the younger one looked less like Jaemin than the older one. “What are your names?”

“I’m Mila, and that’s Jelly,” the older one said. 

“Jelly?” Jisung questioned with a fond look. 

“My real name is Jillian, but my family calls me Jelly,” the younger one explained with a shy smile. 

“That’s so cute!” you cooed. 

“Who are you?” Mila said, looking at Dami. 

“Dami,” she replied, not at all enamoured by their cuteness. 

“Oh, yes,” you looked at Jaemin and said, “this is my eldest, Dami, and my husband, Jisung.” And when you said, “Dami, Jisung, this is Jaemin,” a look of understanding washed over Jisung’s face; he’d learnt all about the friendships you’d lost after The Breakup. 

Jaemin smiled at Dami warmly. “Nice to meet you, Dami! You look just like your mom.”

You winced, hoping that the comment wouldn’t set off what little patience Dami had left. Much to your relief, she simply said, “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

Jaemin turned to Jisung and stuck out a hand, to which Jisung shook. “Jisung!” he said with a friendly connotation. “Wow, Y/N, I had no idea your hubby was such a cutie! Jeno mentioned how you guys lived across the street, but nothing about Jisung’s good looks! Can you imagine?”

You snickered as Jisung’s face tinged with embarrassment. “Oh…I really don’t know what to say to that,” he murmured. 

“Don’t worry, it’ll only get easier from here,” Jimin joked, reminding you that she was still standing there. 

Jisung chuckled. “Great.”

“Well, shall we go in?” Jaemin suggested, looking over at Dami kindly, “You must be so tired of adult conversations, huh?”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

“Okay, well, don’t worry about it too much because Jeno is on his way with the food, so there won’t be much talking!” 

“Okay…” she said, before looking at you with a who is this guy? expression. 

With that, you all finally crossed into the more livelier section of the Lees house. It was structured similarly to yours, with a semi-open layout concept that merged the kitchen and living room together, except for the wall that partitioned the TV from the kitchen. It was beautiful: the floors were a soft brown wood, matching the countertops, island, and dining table. The chairs at the table were green velvet with wooden legs, and the barstools were simply flat with no cushioning, leading you to wonder how on earth it could be comfortable to sit on. The living room was smaller than yours but no less cozy; a matching green velvet couch was pressed against the wall, with two armchairs perched on either side, and a TV mounted on the wall opposite. You didn’t know what you had expected Jimin Yu’s house to look like, but it certainly wasn’t this. It seemed to fit more of a bohemian personality, much like Yizhou’s, which was what surprised you most about it.  

The entire first floor was decorated in pink and purple for Sua’s birthday. Streamers swung across the ceiling, balloons bouncing almost everywhere, including a large number one and number six. Pictures of Sua throughout the years were pasted on the walls and there was even a banner hung above the kitchen table that read Sua’s Sweet Sixteen in bubble letters. 

Music sounded from the speakers in the living room and kitchen and there seemed to be a general hum of conversation amongst both the kids and adults alike. You saw Isaac sitting on the floor with Dayeon, Liam, and an unfamiliar boy, and Sua, Sumi, and Doha were grouped together on the sofa playing a game on some sort of device you couldn’t see. 

Sitting at the island were Yizhou and Chenle, both of them mucking on the chips that were left out in giant bowls. An unfamiliar woman stood opposite them, chattering away about music with Yizhou, who seemed to enjoy the conversation as much as the snacks. And, there, pouring a two litre bottle of sprite into a huge plastic drink dispenser that was filled halfway with a red juice, was none other than the second to last person you expected to reunite with. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered under your breath. 

Aeri Uchinaga had a bright smile on her face as she looked back at you. “Oh my god!” she said, though hers was full of an excitement that you couldn’t possibly fathom; was she actually excited to see you? “Hi, Y/N!”

Before you knew it, you were pulled away from Jisung’s side and tugged into Aeri’s embrace. You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her so as not to seem rude, and hoped that your face didn’t betray you. 

When Aeri pulled back, she looked at you with a grin. “Wow, Y/N, you look the exact same!” she gushed, appearing much like the younger version of herself you’d known. “How is that even possible?!”

“Speak for yourself, Aeri,” you said lightly. “You’re still as bubbly as ever.”

“Well, I have a good reason to be, don’t I?” she teased; and when she noticed the puzzled look on your face, she laughed, “I’m talking about us reuniting! It’s been forever, hasn’t it?”

You nodded, wondering what on earth was happening. You couldn’t imagine her missing you after all these years. She had always been Jimin’s best friend, just as Minjeong had been yours. The two of them were like two peas in a pod, so it had been no surprise that Aeri had taken Jimin’s side in the aftermath of The Breakup.

“Yeah, forever,” you agreed with an awkward chuckle, wondering how long you’d have to put up with this sudden university reunion without seeming too rude. 

As Jaemin’s daughters joined the kids in the living room, Dami lingered beside you with a look of intrigue on her face. “You know my mom from university, too?” she asked Aeri. 

Aeri averted her gaze to Dami with a look of awe. “Wow, it’s like seeing Y/N as a freshie—don’t you think, Jims?” she said with a slight shake of her head. 

“Oh, yes…” Jimin murmured, before standing beside the unfamiliar woman and unceremoniously shoving a handful of chips into her mouth.  

“To answer your question, sweetie—yes, I knew your mom in university,” Aeri told Dami kindly. “I was co-Sophs with Jeno while Jaemin and Jimin were your moms’ Sophs.”

Dami was beyond puzzled by the unfamiliar lingo Aeri was spitting out. “What are Sophs?”

Jaemin looked at you, scandalized, “You never told your kids about Sophs?”

You were becoming increasingly uncomfortable; you didn’t want anything from your Forgotten Years to be brought to surface, especially not in front of Dami or any of the other kids. You would prefer it if Jaemin would introduce you to who you assumed was his wife, so you could stop pretending that this was a normal occurrence for the entire group. 

“Hi, Ji,” Chenle said as a way of diverting the conversation, causing you to aim him a quick smile of gratitude. “Where’ve you been? I missed you.”

Jisung scrunched his nose up in displeasure. While he always acted like he hated all the endearing things Chenle teased him with, he secretly loved it. Even you couldn’t get him to admit it aloud, but you knew he felt that way; how could he not when he and Chenle had been inseparable since they were five? 

“I’m sure you did,” he said. 

“I totally did,” Chenle insisted, before motioning to the woman across from him, “I was just telling Lia how we get separation anxiety when we’re apart for too long.”

You chuckled at that, before it finally dawned on you as to who Jaemin’s wife was. Lia Choi had been friends with some of your own throughout university, so you’d seen her around at the occasional house party. From what you could recall, she’d been a Psychology major, which was befitting of her personality. She looked more or less the same, but definitely not forty-six; everyone had been right about Asians barely ageing and you never realized it until now. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m Lia, by the way,” she said, looking at Jisung with a kind smile, before averting her gaze to you, “I think we met a few times in uni, right? It’s been a while, regardless.”

You offered a small smile. “Yeah, it really has been.”

“Jheez, this really is like a university reunion,” Dami puffed out, startling you with her presence; you thought she’d have gone to join the other kids, or at least Isaac, by now. Instead, she was standing beside you with her arms crossed over her chest, looking at Aeri, Jimin, and Jaemin with a scrutinizing gaze. 

Yizhou seemed to perk up, finally done watching the awkward interactions silently. “Dami,” she said with a teasing smile on her face, “why do you look so unhappy?”  

You snapped your head over at her and glared, hard. Why would she say that to Dami of all people? And why now, in front of everyone at your ex-girlfriend’s daughter’s birthday party?! 

“Because , Auntie Yizhou—” she began, and you were turning red from the embarrassment that would result from your daughter’s brutal attitude; but what came out of her mouth instead caused your jaw to drop in horror, and Jisung’s face to resemble a tomato, “—my parents traumatized me!” 

Yizhou simply shrieked with laughter, as did nearly everyone else, who were just as shocked as you were. “Oh my god—no way!”

“Ugh, yes way…” Dami wrinkled her nose at the two of you. “You guys are way too old to even be doing that, anyway.” 

“Dami!” you gasped, wondering what had gotten into her to say such things out loud, especially in front of those who would be considered strangers to her; you lightly pushed her towards the living room, trying to direct her away so you could end this conversation. 

“I’m just saying!” She defended, though she obliged with your hints and finally joined the other kids, leaving you and Jisung with a laughing Yizhou, Chenle, and Jaemin, an amused Lia and Aeri, and a flustered Jimin. 

“What the hell…” you said with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry, you guys.”

“Oh, please, don’t apologize,” Aeri said with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. “Tell us more!”

Jisung chuckled awkwardly. “I don’t think so…”

“This is our first time meeting Y/N’s husband, Aeri! Don’t embarrass him any further!” Jaemin chided with a shit-eating grin. 

“Oh, that’s right!” Aeri said, eyes landing on Jisung again, “Hi, I’m Aeri. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Jisung replied, though you could tell that he didn’t want to be there anymore. “I’m Jisung.”

Yizhou grinned like the Cheshire cat and swatted you with her chip-dusted fingers. “You guys are so naughty!”

“Oh my god, Yizhou…” you sighed, completely over this whole birthday party. “Look at what you started.”

She looked offended. “How is this my fault?!”

“You were the one who asked Dami why she looked unhappy!” you said. “You of all people should know that you never ask her that question.”

Chenle nodded, though he was still snickering. “Yeah, Y/N’s got a point.”

“I’m sorry!” Yizhou pouted. “But can’t we all agree that it livened up the atmosphere here?!”

Aeri snapped her fingers at her, as if that was the best point anyone had made all day. “You’re so right, Yizhou. It totally did!”

“Mhm, for you guys maybe…” you said, before looking over at Jimin, who was still shoving chips into her mouth; a coping mechanism, perhaps, but you couldn’t tell what it could possibly be for. 

“Oh my god, what if that’s why Minjeong and Sungchan are late?” Chenle laughed. 

“Don’t be silly,” Yizhou said with a giggle. “They’re almost always late to everything.”

You looked up at Jisung and caught his eye, hoping he could use his Husband Powers and read your mind. Luckily for you, he was so in tune with you that he could instantly tell that you were overwhelmed by everything. Considering the circumstances, it wasn’t that hard to tell, but you were still grateful for his reassuring squeeze of your hand. Having him here with you was the only thing you could count on to make it as painless as possible, but you didn’t know if it was going to be enough. You’d been in the Lees house for no longer than ten minutes and you were already itching to leave. If you’d thought reuniting with Jimin and Jeno was bad, this was even worse because of their friends who had witnessed everything that had gone on between you and the former. 

“Y/N, Jisung—can I get you anything to drink?” Jimin asked, wiping her mouth with a napkin. 

“I’ll have some of that punch, please,” Jisung replied, pointing at the large jug Aeri had mixed together. 

“Do you want this, or the adult version?” Aeri asked with a wink. 

“Adult,” you quickly said, knowing that this whole evening would go by smoother if you were buzzed. 

Jaemin cackled. “I see you haven’t changed, Y/N!” 

You pursed your lips together, hoping Jisung, Chenle and Yizhou wouldn’t judge you for whatever they would hear about the past you today. “I’m a lightweight now, if you can believe it.”

Lia chuckled. “So is Jaemin. He always talks a big game, but after two beers, he’s gone.”

Jaemin pouted his lip at his wife. “Why do you have to expose me like that?”

“Oops, sorry, bubs,” she grinned. 

“Here you go,” Jimin handed you and Jisung two purple plastic cups with the Adult Punch. 

“Thanks,” you said, immediately taking a sip and wincing at how strong it was. “Oh, jheez…”

Chenle laughed. “You better pace yourself, Kim!” 

The doorbell rang, causing you to let out a small breath of relief. Minjeong had finally arrived. She would come in with her bubbly personality and turn the attention away from you and Jisung. She would save you—the opposite of what Yizhou had done—and you would be able to relax a little. You could sit with Jisung in one corner and talk to someone nonthreatening, like Lia. 

As Jimin disappeared from the kitchen to answer the door, you turned to look up at Jisung again. He was making a face after taking a sip of the Adult Punch, resembling his younger self at any kind of house party you’d went to. He had never been much of a drinker. Instead, much to your surprise, he was a bit of a pothead, adept at rolling joints and ripping bongs.

“I’ll have yours if you don’t like it,” you whispered. 

He wrinkled his nose at you. “The last thing we need is for you to get drunk at a sweet sixteen.”

“Oh, yeah…” You’d almost forgotten why you were at the Lees in the first place. “Do you think we should move Dami’s party?”

A look of surprise spread across his face. “What? Why?”

“She still hasn’t invited Sua, and it’s tomorrow,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper now. “It’s rude.”

“Let’s talk about it later, love,” he suggested, noticing Chenle looking at him with a quirked eyebrow. “What, Lele?”

Chenle scoffed, offended. “How can you take that tone with me?”

“Sorry,” Jisung flushed, before walking over to stand beside him at the island. “When did you guys get here?”

As the two fell into conversation with Jaemin, Minjeong waltzed into the kitchen with her usual laidback energy, grinning when your eyes met. “Hi!”

“Hey,” you replied, wanting to fall into her arms from the sheer exhaustion of it all, but keeping yourself from showing any inkling of discomfort because you could feel multiple pairs of eyes on you. “Good of you to come on time, Jeongie.”

She rolled her eyes in faux annoyance. “So-rry ! It’s not my fault I live with a prince.”

Immediately, your eyes darted past her as Aeri shrieked with excitement. If Juyeon was here, all hell would break loose, and you knew for a fact that Jimin wouldn’t appreciate it if Dami ruined her daughter’s party. Your gaze landed on Choyeon, who immediately ran over to join the other kids; following behind Jimin with a semi-detached look on his face was not Juyeon, but Sungchan. Relief quickly swelled up in your chest, though you wondered why he wasn’t doing a better job at hiding his true feelings. You appreciated him siding with you, but Jimin and Jeno were here to stay; you’d accepted it, so it was about time he did too. 

“Holy shit, you guys!” Aeri was squealing in the background, probably about how much Minjeong looked the same and how it was so unfair of her to maintain her thin frame after twins, but you weren’t listening. 

Instead, you sidled up next to Sungchan and offered him your cup of Adult Punch wordlessly. He sniffed the contents before taking a large gulp with an appreciative hum. It was not going to end well if the two of you got tipsy, but that was a problem for later; for now, you needed that familiar buzz to keep things steady. 

Sooner or later, everyone had moved off into groups. You’d noticed that all of the teenagers had moved into the basement, bothered by their parents’ proximity to their private conversations and mildly annoyed by the little ones’ insistence on playing together. You’d been surprised to see Dami succumb to the celebrations, but nonetheless content that she was behaving. Dayeon and Liam seemed to get along well with Mila and Jillian; the four were playing hide and seek, in which the final winner had the prize of extra dessert at the end of the night. 

In the living room, Jisung sat with Chenle, Yizhou, and Lia. You didn’t know how exactly you’d gotten separated, but it had something to do with Chenle’s separation anxiety from his best friend, which you found ironic considering you needed your husband more. Aeri’s husband Mark Lee—a Toronto-born brunette with big, brown eyes and an endearing smile—had joined them after returning from an LCBO run. The five of them all had one thing in common: music. Jisung with dance, Chenle with his infamous gift of being a pianist from age five, Yizhou and her passion to sing, Lia and her Master’s degree in music and how it affected the brain, and Mark, who worked full-time as an English professor at the University of Toronto, was also an acoustic consultant.

You remained in the kitchen with Minjeong, Sungchan, Jaemin, Aeri, and Jimin. Of course, you’d do anything to sit with the others in the living room, but Aeri had trapped you with the amount of questions she rapidly shot off at you and Minjeong. She’d claimed that she wanted it to be like the old days, with the original six together again—Jeno had yet to return from the food run—but you didn’t think it possible for it to be even remotely the same. That much was obvious from the way Jimin stood a safe distance from you, her eyes falling upon every person who spoke apart from you. You didn’t know what had happened for her to behave in this manner, but you just felt more and more unwelcome.

Aeri was just telling all of you about her only child, Simon, who was thirteen and had taken after his father’s musical talents when Jeno returned with the food. He was carrying a huge aluminum tray with cheeks flushed from the cold and snowflakes in his dark hair; Jimin snapped into action at once and directed him to the stove. You wondered what they had got for dinner; it smelled delicious and unlike anything you’d expected. Since it was a birthday party, you thought they’d stick to the basics: pizza and cheesy garlic bread. 

A moment later, a tall, unfamiliar boy entered the kitchen, carrying pizza boxes in his arms. You didn’t need anyone to tell you that he was Jimin and Jeno’s son, because he looked identical to Jeno with his high cheekbones and strong jaw. He, too, had red cheeks; he sniffled a few times from the cold, but a wide smile spread across his face at the sight of his aunt and uncle standing just before him. It astounded you—his smile; his eyes turned up into crescents just like Jeno’s did, but his smile was all Jimin with the way his lips curved and cheeks lifted.

“Sumin?!” Aeri practically screamed.

“What the hell—Sumin’s here?!” Jaemin exclaimed.

“Hi, Auntie Aeri, Uncle Nana!” Sumin grinned.

“Hi? Hi? Is that how you greet your aunt and uncle after so many years?!” Aeri reprimanded, but there was an ecstatic smile on her face as she moved around the island to reach him. 

Sumin put the pizzas down on the countertop and bent down to embrace Aeri. She came up to the bottom of his ear; the height difference was endearing, but not especially so to you, who was seeing the eldest Lee for the first time tonight. 

There was a bit of ruckus at the revelation of the eldest’s appearance; everyone was under the assumption that Sumin wasn’t coming, but since Christmas was only a few days away, he was able to get out of work early and fly down to celebrate his younger sister’s birthday. Out of all his aunts and uncles, he seemed closest to Aeri, which didn’t surprise you much, considering she was his mother’s best friend. You just wondered whether he’d been made aware of the awkward tension between his parents and their neighbours. 

Apparently, he had been, because when Jeno introduced you, a flicker of understanding flashed in his eyes. You knew that his sisters must have filled him in, because you couldn’t picture Jimin letting him in on the secret of your shared past. Whatever he knew, though, he didn’t show it on his face; instead, he smiled warmly and hugged you as if you were one of the aunties he’d grown up around. It was a sweet gesture, but you were unsure as to how you truly felt about it because you were rather tipsy by that point. Jimin, however, looked rather conflicted at the action and distracted herself by busying herself with the food.

“How old are you, Sumin?” Sungchan asked once Sumin returned to the kitchen after greeting everyone in the living room. 

“Twenty-two,” he replied with a shy smile.

“Wow,” Sungchan shook his head in slight amazement; his cheeks were flushed from the Adult Punch, in addition to the beer he was nursing. “I can’t believe you guys have a grown kid,” he said to Jeno.

Jeno chuckled, looking at Sumin with pride on his face. “I can’t believe it either,” he hummed. “The years go by so quickly, it seems.”

Sumin swung an arm around Jeno’s shoulders and teased him, “Oh, don’t get all sentimental now, Appa. I’ll always be your little kid.”

Jaemin cooed as if Sumin were his daughters’ age. “Aw, look at little Suminie being so sweet!”

“It’s nice to know that boys eventually come around when they’re older,” Minjeong said with a small sigh, looking at Sumin with a longing that made you feel for her; Juyeon had always been difficult, but even more so now with his supposed freedom.

“Sumin has always been such a sweetheart, though,” Aeri said unhelpfully. 

Sumin made a face. “I don’t think so…”

“You should give my son some tips,” Minjeong said to him with a chuckle that was supposed to be lighthearted but instead sounded sad. 

“Oh, Jeongie…” Sungchan murmured, looking at her with a small frown. 

“Is he here?” Sumin asked kindly. 

“No,” Minjeong shook her head, back to her smiley self after she realized her attempt at a joke had failed; it was obvious that she didn’t want to dampen the mood. “He’s seventeen, and thinks he’s his own boss because he’s nearly an adult.”

Aeri clucked her tongue in sympathy. “Aw, Minjeong, don’t worry too much about that! Honestly, teenagers can be such shitbags at times. He’ll come around eventually.”

You didn’t know if that was true. Juyeon had a history of wreaking havoc from a young age. You’d all wondered where he got his rebellious spirit from since neither of his parents nor any of their siblings had ever been like that. Minjeong’s older brother had enlisted in the Canadian military after graduating from high school, and went to the University of Alberta for finance. He had always had such a rigid air about him, you’d often wondered how he was related to Minjeong, who was the polar opposite with her goofiness. Sungchan also had an older brother; the difference between them and Minjeong and her brother was that they actually got along. Jaehyun was more of an old soul with his interest in art and music; he attended the University of Toronto for Film Studies, won a bunch of awards for his short films, and now worked as a graphic artist. His youngest son Cedric had inherited the seemingly invisible rebellious trait that Juyeon had, making it hard for both the Jung brothers and their wives to connect with them. 

“Yeah, he’s probably just dealing with his own stuff and takes it out on you and Sungchan,” Jaemin said gently. “It happens, you know? Yangyang’s kid is like that, and he’s only twelve.”

Your eyes grew wide. “Yangyang has a kid?!”

Suddenly, six pairs of eyes were on you. You didn’t realize how loud you’d been until then. Your cheeks grew red and you could feel your entire body buzzing. 

Sungchan laughed at you, taking the Adult Punch from you. “Jheez, Y/N, you haven’t even finished the cup yet.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. 

“Yangyang has a kid,” Jeno confirmed. “He’s married to a woman he met in grad school in England.”

You shook your head in bewilderment. You’d had absolutely no idea Yangyang went to England for grad school. It made sense, of course, considering he’d been Jimin’s friend from elementary school; why would you keep in touch with him after The Breakup? 

“Wow,” you said. “What’s Donghyuck up to?”

“Oh, you know him,” Aeri rolled her eyes. “He can’t sit still for two seconds. He’s lived all over—Spain, Brazil, Morocco, and Vietnam, funnily enough.”

You felt the buzz throughout your body glitch for a moment. Vietnam. You’d never thought that that would be brought up again—out loud, or even in your mind. You found yourself remembering the Infamous Trip from the summer before The Breakup. It was six weeks of non-stop travelling—Bangkok, Phuket, and Chiang Mai, to Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh City, and Da Nang. It had been your lifelong dream to visit Thailand and Vietnam; luckily for you, all of your friends and your girlfriend and her friends shared your dream. It was you, Minjeong, Shotaro, and Sungchan (who had only gone to Thailand), and Jimin, Aeri, Jeno, and Jaemin. The eight of you embarked on an adventure; and, at the time, you really thought that that friend group would last forever. Little did you know that only three months later the friend group would dissolve as a result of The Breakup, with the first three siding with you and the latter three with Jimin. (Donghyuck and Yangyang had been invited, but they both had accepted their internship offers a week before the trip details had been sent in the group chat.)

“Why’s it funny that Uncle Hyuck lived in Vietnam?” Sumin asked. 

Your eyes snapped over to look at him. He looked curious. Hopeful, even, to be let in on what he thought was an inside joke. What he didn’t know was that nothing about Vietnam was funny. You’d found the Infamous Trip beyond any trip you’d taken with Jimin; travelling together for six straight weeks in foreign countries had given what you thought was a sneak peek into your future. However, it had all been a big, fat lie. It had meant absolutely nothing to Jimin, who now stood tensely at the stove preparing the food. You wondered why she was acting like this when she was the one who broke up with you—the one who invited your daughter to this party. She was just scared that her kids would find out who she had once been. But, as you stood there, now looking at the tension in Jimin’s shoulders as she scooped the food out into big dishes, you wondered whether it really was a big deal to tell the kids that you were bisexual.