Chapter Text
Chapter 4
Minnie doesn’t come back for three whole weeks.
And in that time, it feels like the entire world is against Soojin. Or at least her teammates are. Miyeon will barely look at her, and Yuqi makes it a point to talk to Shuhua—but not her. Soyeon is… dedicated to her craft. And though the rapper does try, she never quite fits just right within the team. She always feels too big or too small or too important. Soojin knows the juggling act is hard for the girl, but it’s nothing in the grand scheme of things that the dancer has to worry about.
She has to worry about her classes. That have grown exponentially more difficult.
And her debut. That feels more and more like it’s just around the corner.
And Shuhua who…
Shuhua who feels less and less like an escape. Her light is dimmer than ever—and sometimes it’s all Soojin can do to breathe life back into it before it blows out completely. These final months are hardest on the young girl—working her down to the bone. Their kisses are less a take, and more a give now. Soojin has to give and give and give and she doesn’t know how much more she has left.
But she never considers stopping, not once.
So when Minnie does come back, it’s no surprise that it isn’t exactly the… picture-perfect homecoming that some of the others may have been hoping for.
They greet her at the door. They share hugs and smiles. But they soon fall along their established party lines. Yuqi and Minnie settle in the living room, eating food they’d ordered in for the special occasion. Not touching the dinner that Soojin had made for them earlier—of which there was more than enough to go around. Miyeon sits on the periphery, not quite a part of their enthusiastic conversations, but smiling all the same. And Soyeon stays with them for a bit, chats with them for a while, but retreats to her room not too long after.
Soojin joins them on the couch, but she eats the stir-fry she’d made—not the piles of greasy takeout on the table. And she watches the drama that Shuhua had turned to on the TV. It’s a ‘welcome back party’ in the sense that they’re all in the same room at one point. Eating food and enjoying themselves. But they could not be further apart if they tried.
Shuhua is sitting on the ground, in between Soojin’s legs. And she somehow becomes the catalyst for their silent war. A conduit through which all of their deep-seated emotions can play out. And all the girl does… is finish her food.
Shuhua had been intensely focused on her show, so she didn’t immediately notice when her bowl of stir-fry went empty. But the clang of her searching spoon draws their attention. Yuqi’s first.
“Still hungry Shu?” The question is loud and seemingly innocent. It shocks Shuhua from her stupor, prompting the girl to look confusedly down at her bowl. Yes, it was empty. And from her resulting pout—yes, she was still hungry. “Here, have some wings.”
Yuqi pushes the box towards the girl, but it doesn’t get very far. It slides across the coffee table and stops just outside of Shuhua’s reach. But well within Soojin and Minnie’s.
Soojin glances at the box, but makes no move towards it. Minnie could get it. But the Thai girl doesn’t move either. Her lips purse and then transfigure into a near scowl. As she sees what she’d have to do to get the box to Shuhua—reaching fully into Soojin’s space.
The standoff unexpectedly stretches out. And the tension grows very uncomfortable very fast.
Soojin notices Shuhua shifting in her seat. Notices how the girl is unsure about what to do. Knows that this is something more than just eating some wings. And Soojin doesn’t want to put that kind of pressure on her.
So Soojin gets to her feet. “I’ll go pack up the rest of the stir-fry,” she says.
And then she walks off into the kitchen. She makes it a point to make as much noise as she can as she transfers the food from pan to Tupperware. Runs the water on scalding hot over the dirty dishes so the steam fills the air. Closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When Soojin finally makes her way back into the living room, it’s to see that her plan had worked. Shuhua now has more food in her bowl—wings and a couple of cheese sticks.
Soojin settles herself back down into her seat without another word. But she can’t help but notice a few things at once: Yuqi’s voice—even louder than before; Minnie’s laughter beside her; Miyeon’s new closer seat on the ground; and Shuhua. Shuhua who’s no longer watching her show. But who’s looking down at her bowl, fidgeting with her chopsticks.
She hasn’t had a single bite.
Soojin bites her lip. The tension is gone, their standoff is over, but Soojin suddenly feels a rebelliousness blossoming within her. She’d let them win, thinking that Shuhua would win too. But that wasn’t the case. And if rolling over to keep the peace made her feel this crummy—then why do it at all?
Before Soojin can stop herself, she leans forward. Leans over Shuhua. And she plants her hands on the girl’s shoulders. Shuhua stiffens in her seat, but looks up in question.
“Is it too spicy?” Soojin asks.
Which is a ridiculous question because Yuqi had finished off the last of the spicy wings over an hour ago.
“Um…” That’s not the reason why Shuhua’s not eating. And they both know it.
But Soojin rolls with her excuse. Plucks a wing from Shuhua’s bowl and brings it up to her face. She smells it carefully. And, as expected, it’s the normal kind. Not spicy, not even a little bit. But she takes a test bite all the same, then scrunches up her face in disgust. “It’s too spicy,” she lies. Loud enough to break through whatever conversation the othes were having. She knows she has their attention now. “You know Shuhua can’t eat spicy food.”
She drops the half-eaten wing back into the bowl. Then takes the food from Shuhua and plops it back down on the table with a loud clack.
She can feel their eyes on her now. But she doesn’t crack. She holds strong in her defiance.
Yuqi is the first to grit out a response. “It’s not spicy.”
“You can have it then,” Soojin says. “Shuhua doesn’t want it.”
Minnie scoffs from beside her. It takes a while for her to speak—her first words directed at Soojin since she’d returned. But when she does, there’s no hiding the disdain in her voice. “Shuhua can speak for herself.”
“N-no, it’s… it’s not—” Shuhua stutters out, her cheeks a glowing red. “It’s fine…” She hesitantly reaches for the bowl, then pulls her hand back at the last second. Then—with everyone watching her every move—the girl suddenly springs to her feet. And runs off into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.
A beat or two passes before Yuqi takes off after her. They hear the sounds of her knocking on the door, begging the younger girl to let her in. Her request goes unanswered.
The living room is left in a tense silence. The drama is still playing on the TV, but they don’t pay it a lick of attention.
Minnie lips curl up into a wry smile. “I guess nobody’s off-limits… Even Shuhua.”
“If you have something you want to say, say it to my face,” Soojin snaps. She doesn’t appreciate the doublespeak. The thinly-veiled insults. “Don’t bring the others into this.”
Minnie closes her eyes. But once she re-opens them, they’re fixed on Soojin. Cold and accusatory. “… You know what I want to say.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You still won’t admit it—”
“Why do you think it’s me?” Soojin fires back. Her voice rises to match her temper—which is at astronomical levels right now. “I wasn’t the only one at the rink. Miyeon was there too.”
“I didn’t tell Miyeon,” Minnie growls out.
“And you think she didn’t notice? The way you were hanging off of that boy—practically drooling all over him—”
“We didn’t do anything—” Minnie yells, suddenly on her feet, suddenly towering over the dancer.
But Soojin keeps talking over her. Rises to her own feet to meet her. “—You know how pathetic you looked? You want to know who ratted you out? Literally anybody with eyes because that’s how obvious it was! So don’t blame me—”
“Then who else would know that he asked me out? No one else but you!” Minnie pushes forward and jabs her finger a bit too close for comfort. So Soojin smacks her hand away. And takes a step back just for good measure. She’s never gotten into a physical fight before and she doesn’t want to start now. But she makes sure to hold her ground against her teammate. Because she’s done rolling over for them. Minnie’s eyes are no less angry. “They knew he asked me out,” she repeats. “How, how did they know that?”
Soojin knows the answer she should give. But she makes a different choice. And she lets her overwrought emotions answer for her. “Because your shitty boyfriend told them.”
She sees the second the words register in Minnie’s head. And the initial anger on her face transitions into shock—and then fear that Soojin might be right. But Soojin doesn’t let her complete her realization. Instead, she doubles down. And pushes too far.
“Next time? Try to pick someone who’s smart enough to keep their mouth shut,” Soojin sneers.
“… Like Shuhua?”
Miyeon’s soft voice cuts through the air like a knife. Stabs Soojin in the back with its unexpectedness and truth. And Soojin finds herself shocked into silence. She’d forgotten that Miyeon was in the room with them. A careless mistake she’d made twice now. But this time feels more disastrous in its potential consequences.
She turns to Miyeon—sees her standing off to the side, always on the sidelines—and feels all sorts of words bubbling up in her mouth. Anything that could come to her defense. But the seconds tick by and Soojin knows that no matter what she says, she’s already lost. Because Miyeon knows. And now Minnie will too. So Soojin spares her no kindness when she utters out a simple, “Go fuck yourself.”
She doesn’t wait for the girl to respond. She doesn’t wait for Minnie to come to any new realizations either.
Soojin storms off into her room. And slams the door shut as hard as she can.
She’s breathing hard, but she forces herself to calm down. It doesn’t work.
She drops down onto her bed, lets her body sink as far as it can into the sheets. And she covers her face with her hands. She pretends she doesn’t feel the tears that slip out of her eyes. She falls asleep just like that—alone and hiding in the dark.
--
Practice a few days later starts like any other.
It’s a group dance lesson, so Hyunjin runs them through a mix of girl group dances they’d learned. Soojin is the best, as she always is. But not even she’s immune to the terrible mood that’s befallen her teammates. They dance with precision and passion, but they all look like they’re marching to their deaths. Like any stray word or thought will be the final nail in their coffins. This is their team now.
It’s stifling. And Hyunjin notices.
“Stop, stop, stop,” the dance teacher commands them, shaking her head. The song plays on in the background, but the girls quickly heed her frustrated words. They stop. And Hyunjin just… explodes. “Are you guys joking right now? No, seriously—I have to wonder if I’m in the right room or not. Did I get it wrong? This isn’t Beginner’s Dance, is it?” No one answers. And Soojin feels the heat of her words like a slap to the face. “You think anybody wants to see this?” Hyunjin roars. “You look like someone’s forcing you—am I forcing you to do this? If you don’t want to dance, then why didn’t you say so? You want to leave?” Hyunjin thrusts her hand in the direction of the door, her voice echoing around the room. “Go on! Leave then!”
But nobody moves.
And Hyunjin stares them down until the song on the CD reaches its end. It starts again and she barks out a sharp, “Turn off the music!”
Soojin tenses her legs, gets ready to move—but Soyeon is already there. The short girl clicks off the CD player. Then hastily returns to the center of the room where the rest of them are standing. Waiting for their judgment.
It was bad. Their dancing was bad. And they all know it.
Hyunjin turns her back to them, strides towards the mirrors. They can all see the look on her face. It’s a mixture of disgust and disbelief. Soojin feels her heart beating a staccato in anticipation of what’s to come. She sees the signs—has been around Hyunjin more often than the others—so she knows. This will not end well.
Finally Hyunjin makes her move. And it starts out simple.
She claps.
A slow, mocking rhythm that shows just how satisfied she is with their performance. Not very. Leaving much to be desired. But then her tempo picks up, and she’s clapping to a barely danceable beat. She settles into it—like a metronome. And then she spins back around to look at them expectantly.
Soojin doesn’t know if she should wait for the question or try her luck on an answer now.
But Hyunjin makes the choice for her. The teacher’s voice is loud. “This is your last chance. If you don’t want to dance, then leave now.” She looks them each in the eye, makes sure they now that she’s done fooling around. Again, no one moves a muscle. So, Hyunjin speaks again, enunciating every word, “If you stay in this room you will be dancing, is that understood?” They nod quickly. But that wasn’t the real question anyway. “And since I can’t make you look happy, we’ll just forget about that. Smile if you want, I don’t care—but you are all going to dance!” Her voice rises and her claps are almost deafeningly loud now. And before Soojin realizes it, her heart is following the rhythm too. “Do you understand me? Do I have to repeat myself—tell me now!”
“No, ssaem!” They all answer. The right answer.
Hyunjin lets her claps fill the silence, watches them carefully. Then she starts walking around them, never letting her tempo falter. “Start dancing.”
There are confused looks at first. Where’s the music? Dance to what? But Soojin soon understands that none of that actually matters. So she twists her body into the beginnings of a choreo—not the song they’d just been practicing, but a different one. The song they’d covered for their last group evaluation. It’s fast-paced and technical and she just barely makes it fit into Hyunjin’s clapping beat.
And, as expected, the girls all follow her lead.
Hyunjin doesn’t comment, she just watches. Walks a tight circle around their formation so that they have to be careful not to stray too far. And she keeps clapping. Insistent and loud and audible over their hurried steps and panting breaths.
When they finish the choreography, Hyunjin doesn’t stop.
And after a few beats pass, Soojin realizes that they’re not supposed to stop either. So they keep dancing. Falling into the steps again, but with a better handle on all the movements. They try to conserve their energy as they go—knowing that this round might not be the last. And it isn’t. They finish and then they start right back up again. The next attempt, they meet each other’s eyes in the mirror, and they try to smile. Yes, Hyunjin had said that she didn’t care if they enjoyed it or not. But it’s worth a try, they all seem to decide. Their muscles ache and their smiles look strained and fake, but they complete the song like the idols they want to be. In perfect poses and wearing the happiest expressions.
Hyunjin does not stop clapping.
The next time around, Miyeon starts singing. Softly at first and then stronger once she realizes that nobody’s going to stop her. Minnie joins her, and then Soyeon, and then they all find themselves singing along. It doesn’t sound very good, to be honest. And Soojin silently curses in her head even as the lyrics flow out of her mouth. They’re tired, and singing will only make them tire faster. But they’ve committed to it, so they do it. They sing and dance and smile. And sweat and pant and hurt. Then, before they know it, their fourth attempt is finished.
Hyunjin looks like she couldn’t care less.
And honestly, Soojin doesn’t blame her.
Halfway into their sixth attempt is where things start breaking down. The singing has stopped by now and so has the smiling—thank God. But that’s not the only that gives. Minnie’s breaths had been getting more and more labored. Coming out in wheezes by the time they get to the chorus. Soojin glances in the mirror and knows that the girl has reached her limit. So she’s not surprised when Minnie basically shuts down once the song is over. And the seventh dance starts without her.
Minnie is on her knees, gasping for air. And that’s when Hyunjin finally breaks her silence. “I thought I made myself clear,” her sharp voice intones. “If you want to stay in this room, you’re going to dance. If not, then you know the way out.”
Soojin bites her lip and refocuses back in on her current steps. So that’s how it’s going to be, huh? Out of the corner of her eyes, she watches as Minnie struggles to get herself back upright. The girl looks dead on her feet. She manages a few weak steps before her body just… stops. She sways dangerously for a moment before Hyunjin finally has enough.
“On the mirrors, Minnie! Get some electrolytes!”
Minnie mindlessly obeys her. She stumbles over to the mirrors, where their drinks are lying on the ground. And she grabs the first bottle of Gatorade she can find, guzzling it down like a dying woman. Which probably isn’t too far off. The girl doesn’t dare sit down though, instead propping her body lifelessly up on the mirrors.
Soojin catches the girl’s eyes on her next turn. And it’s the first time they haven’t looked like they wanted to kill each other in too long. Soojin’s not sure if Minnie’s even conscious enough to realize it.
Just after the eighth attempt starts, Miyeon is forced to tap out. And then Shuhua and Soyeon go halfway into the ninth. By the tenth attempt, Soojin’s feet are on fire, but she’s still dancing. And Yuqi is too.
Hyunjin’s leaning back against the mirrors now, not too far from where the other girls are recovering. The only sounds in the room are the stomping from two pairs of feet, the heavy panting from all but one occupant, and that relentless… fucking clapping.
Soojin tries to blink away the sweat in her eyes, but to no avail. Her eyes sting as she moves into the next step. Her body is on auto-pilot now. And it feels like she’s barely even following the clapping anymore, just the sound of her heartbeat. It’s at least double Hyunjin’s tempo, but it fits the dance like a glove.
Attempt… twelve? Maybe? Soojin can barely keep track anymore. And she has a very strong case of tunnel vision. She can’t tell when last she’s seen the girls or Hyunjin or Yuqi or even the walls of the room. She turns and dips and she’s not looking at anything at all, really. The visual information barely registers in her brain, what she’s seeing. Her hearing has gone to shit too. Because surely there must be some other noise in the room besides that damn, infuriating clapping. But that’s all she hears. And feels. Because that’s all her body needs. She doesn’t know if she even stops anymore—when the song is over. Because the song is never over. The end flows right into the beginning flows right into a never-ending rhythm.
Hyunjin isn’t stopping. So Soojin isn’t either.
There’s a sound that Soojin doesn’t hear at first. It isn’t until Hyunjin’s voice rings out once again that Soojin registers what must’ve happened. Yuqi is down.
“Is there a problem Yuqi?”
“N-no… no…” Yuqi somehow manages to gasp out. But no matter what she says, her body does not move. She’s done.
“On the mirrors,” Hyunjin dismisses her with barely a second glance.
“No, I can—I just need—”
“On the mirrors. Now.”
Soojin should feel happy. As her stinging eyes catch glimpses of Yuqi hobbling off to join the others. She should feel happy—because she’s done it, hasn’t she? She’s proven yet again why she’s the best. Why she deserves this. The thing is… Soojin can’t feel much of anything anymore. Not her legs, not her arms, not her breathing, nothing. She just dances. And she doesn’t stop to feel happy. She doesn’t stop at all.
Because if she does… well, she can’t imagine what would happen if she ever stopped.
Hyunjin’s focus is only on her now. And her clapping does not falter.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Attempt fourteen.
There’s a trick that Soojin’s learned now. Instead of telling her body what to do—instead of following some kind of scripted dance—she just lets her limbs move however they please. It must be right, she thinks. Whatever it is that her body is doing now. Because Hyunjin hasn’t stopped her yet, so it must be right.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Attempt… some number.
Another trick. Instead of thinking, Soojin just doesn’t. She doesn’t need it anyways.
Clap.
Clap—
Soojin’s knees smash into the ground. It takes her a few seconds to understand what’s happened. Why her world is suddenly so still. Why she’s staring at the ground. Why she’s not moving. She’s not moving. She’s not—
A pair of feet suddenly appear on the edge of her vision. She forces her head up to see who it is. Hyunjin. Peering down at her with an unreadable expression on her face. Soojin’s eyes shift down of their own accord—to her teacher’s hands. They’re red. They’re still clapping.
“Are you done?” Hyunjin asks. Softly, just barely loud enough to be heard over the claps. Just for her.
Soojin’s mouth opens to give an answer—but nothing comes out. She can’t speak past her gasping breaths. She can’t answer.
Hyunjin slowly squats down so she’s level with the fallen girl. And then—mercifully—impossibly—unexpectedly—her clapping finally stops. Soojin’s ears don’t stop ringing though. And she fears she might never stop hearing that beat from now on. But beneath it all, she finds herself… laughing. Quiet scoffing chuckles. She’s gone mad.
Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at her. “Something funny?”
“I win.”
“… What?”
Soojin’s definitely gone mad. That must be why she doesn’t look away from Hyunjin’s challenging stare. Why she repeats her words instead of taking them back. “I… win.”
“Did you now?” Hyunjin’s lips curl up into a smile. Not a kind one. But a smile nonetheless. And they stare down each other for a long, tense moment. She has to admit it, Soojin’s mind screams. She has to. But she should’ve know better. A chuckle falls from Hyunjin’s lips. And it chills Soojin to the core. “Win what?”
But before Soojin can even comprehend her teacher’s response, she’s gone.
“Go get cleaned up,” Hyunjin’s voice says, suddenly halfway across the room. “Be back here in ten minutes, there’ll be an announcement.”
Soojin hears footsteps and the sound of the door opening. Her brain is hurriedly trying to reconnect to her limbs. To instruct them into some kind of useful motion. But it’s hard. Besides the haze that’s fallen over her, besides the mush her thoughts have turned into, besides all that. It all just feels so… meaningless. Is that right? Is that what she’s feeling? She should be happy that the dancing has stopped, but she’s not. She’d won—or so she’d claimed in a fit of madness. Shouldn’t that… mean something?
Shouldn’t she feel something?
Hyunjin’s question rings incessantly in her ears, over that endless clapping loop.
Win what?
And Soojin feels for the first time that she may never find the answer.
“Can you stand?” A sharp voice breaks her out of her mind.
Soyeon is kneeling before her, eyes full of concern. And something else too—respect. Soojin opens her mouth to answer, but as she does she registers the feeling of arms around her waist. Shuhua is on her left and Yuqi is on her right. They’re trying to help her to her feet. They’re trying to help her. So… she lets them.
It isn’t easy. Soojin’s knees are wobbly and she literally can’t feel her feet anymore. But she somehow manages to stand in the end. And then there’s a Gatorade bottle being thrust in her face. Minnie is the one who’s offering it to her.
“Electrolytes help,” the Thai girl says. Her brows furrow when Soojin doesn’t move to answer or take the bottle from her. Then Minnie steps closer, opens the bottle herself and nudges the rim up against Soojin’s lips. “You should drink.”
Soojin blinks. Is this right? But she eventually acquiesces—if for no other reason than survival. She allows the girl to pour the heavenly liquid down her throat.
“We should go clean up fast,” Miyeon says next. The girl is hovering on the edges, but by the look on her face—it’s obvious that she wants to help too. She’s just trying not to crowd them. “We have five minutes left.”
And that’s how Soojin is practically carried out of the practice room and into the bathroom across the hall. They wash up as much as they can over the sinks. Soojin feels more than one pair of hands on her at all times. They’re helping her. They’re helping each other. This is… new. And a curious pressure grows within her chest. Until it’s too much for her to contain anymore. Too much to not share.
“Thank you,” Soojin mutters out. Her lungs lose all the air they have as she says it. And her body loses something else too. But she can’t tell what it is. Nothing quite as tangible as the oxygen she breathes. But maybe more important. Maybe.
Minnie is the one closest to her when she says it. Soojin thinks the girl will just ignore her, but that’s not what happens. Instead, she receives a shy smile in return. “Of course.”
The rest nod in agreement, amidst their continued efforts to get each other ready. To look like they hadn’t just been through the seven gates of hell. It doesn’t quite work. But at least their smiles are a little more sincere. This, this is their team now.
Soojin feels a hand brushing the hair out of her face. But it’s not a very functional act—not one meant to get her presentable in the fastest time possible. No. It’s tender.
It’s Shuhua.
And she’s waxed lyrical before about the joy that this girl brings her. But it feels almost dishonest to try to put into words what she feels now. So she doesn’t. She looks into those eyes that just—they make her—her. They make Soojin the ‘her’ that can find the strength to stand after everything. Soojin looks into Shuhua’s eyes and just… she allows herself to feel.
Everything.
--
But nobody’s really prepared for what happens when they get back to the practice room.
--
Hyunjin isn’t alone.
The CEO is there, as well as half a dozen company employees they’ve never seen before. The manager from before is there too. And every instructor they’ve ever had. They’re all standing there, smiling at the girls as they enter.
“Congratulations everyone,” the CEO says, his arms spread wide. “We’d like to formally announce that you all—all six of you—will be debuting within the next few months.”
It doesn’t sound real.
And from the looks of confusion and disbelief that the girls share, the feeling is mutual.
They’re going to debut?
“I know this might come as a shock,” the CEO continues with a chuckle. “But we’ve been watching your progress carefully… and we firmly believe that you all are ready to make the leap. Your instructors are impressed at your growth, dedication and hard work.” Soojin’s eyes flit over to Hyunjin. The teacher has that same, unreadable look on her face. “And also! We believe we’ve found the perfect name that encompasses the individuality and unique nature of each and every one of you. Brimming with talent and overwhelming potential!”
This can’t be real.
… Is it?
The CEO gestures to an employee and she quickly rolls open a poster of some sort. Emblazoned on the center is their new name. Their group name.
(G)I-DLE.