Aeri has always loved art. Poetry, novels, abstract painting, music. Especially rock. In Japan, she'd been a part of her school band as a sub vocalist and bassist.
She has an Avril Lavinge poster in her bedroom and a FallOut Boy one with a peeling corner beside it taped to her wall. She has stacks of fashion magazines gifted to her by her mom in a box in the corner. Recently, she's been into punk pop, and Olivia Rodrigo, but Dejá Vu isn't a super great mood-making song to listen to at 9am.
She mumbles and rolls over, blanket wrapped around her body like a cocoon. The floor is cold. She walks on her tiptoes until she reaches the bathroom.
She squeezes toothpaste onto her toothbrush.
It's Sunday, so she opts to miss out on her morning walk in the woods just in case she somehow makes a strike with Chinese curses and bleached hair. Yizhuo was pretty (gorgeous even), but the spiky attitude repelled her like a pufferfish pricking an unfortunate swimmer by.
As warm water runs down her body, she wonders just how Jimin and Minjeong stuck with her long enough to have spare toothbrushes at her place, go on hikes, and sometimes catch each other naked like it's no big deal. But judging by the way Minjeong had dared to joke in the face of her anger, she bets pretty long.
She wipes herself dry with a thick towel and steps out.
Her mother is a fashion designer, so it would make sense Aeri is the pinnacle of fashion herself -
She scans her reflection. There's nothing much to see other than the usual.
- but today she picks out a hoodie and biker shorts. She opts for no makeup; makeup is for special occasions, like dinner with her mom's fancy colleagues or university fraternity parties.
She selects a pair of sunglasses with lens that tint the world in faint ochre. On the way to the door, she grabs her earphones and sticks a bud in as she locks the door behind her.
The bakery near her campus-to-be sells really, really good muffins.
The big city had been exactly what Aeri expected when she first arrived. It's been no different, and she loves it. The cheerfulness and pastel colours of the day and neon lights and fashion of the night have Aeri set exactly in her element.
The bell clinks against the glass door as she pushes it in.
Immediately she's greeted with the toasty aroma of bread fresh from the oven and burnt sugar. The air inside carries the flavours of all the pastries displayed on wooden shelves. Aeri swallows.
Beside all the shelves is a little table with trays and tongs for self service. She walks along the rows and gazes at the assortment: spiced carrot cake muffins with walnuts and raisins, sugar-glazed pain au chocolat's, cream cheese buns with garlic and butter, blueberry cobbler dusted with powdered sugar...
And finally, classic chocolate muffins with chunks of melting chocolate in them, sitting snugly in paper liners.
She selects two of the fattest ones and rings it up.
...
She doesn't go straight home.
It's nearing spring, so more things have been out: tree blossoms, kids walking dogs, couples on dates, families on outings. She strolls the streets, phone in her hoodie pocket and Machine Gun Kelly (a guilty pleasure) blasting through one earbud. She has the already blotting paper bag at her side, free hand holding the muffin as she eats.
This is how Aeri likes to spend her time, enjoying the existing beauty of the world, hoping for more.
Buskers are an all-season thing. She passes a handful as she walks. Some are on electric keyboards, some on guitars, most of them sitting on a giant speaker with a mic attached. They perform jazz, acoustic covers, duets. Aeri loves it all.
Despite her huge adoration for music, she loves literature even more.
She's been consuming poetry and novels since day one, absorbing all the delicious wordplay and rhymes, etching every romantic phrase into her mind. When Japanese and Korean weren't enough, she discovered English, then French, then a bunch of other languages. She devoured everything with passion until her tongue managed more than five languages with ease. So, the scholarship to SMU was a complete expectation.
...
Yizhuo tugs on the strap of her bookbag nervously as she nears the counselor's office. She's disgruntled. She's not supposed to be here on a Sunday - class is next on Monday.
She stops right in front of it, takes a deep breath, and enters.
"Take a seat, Yizhuo."
She does, uncomfortably shuffling into a corner of the plush love seat. The older woman sits opposite her with a casual posture, leaning forward, one leg crossed over the other. She has her hands folded in her lap.
"I guess you know why I wanted to see you today, yes?"
"No, I don't think so," Yizhuo replies, slipping the bag strap off her shoulder. It settles next to her in a heap.
"I heard you've been singing again," the counselor says with a hint of mirth. "Publicly."
Yizhuo flushes quickly, pink travelling to the tips of her cheeks and flaring on her cheeks. "I study music. Of couse I sing," she mumbles.
"That's wonderful to hear, Yizhuo," the counselor smiles. "This is great progress. I know how much you've worked to get rid of the stage fright."
"Taeyeon, c'mon..." Yizhuo groans, leaning forward so her hair falls over her face.
"What? I'm just proud of you," Taeyeon laughs. "So, when's your next gig? I'll come watch."
"My school counsellor coming to watch my performance?" Yizhuo giggles. "Won't that be funny."
"Of course, only if you're comfortable with it. Otherwise I'll just tail you in the shadows," Taeyeon jokes, wiggling her fingers, "and watch your progress from the sidelines."
Yizhuo fidgets. After a beat, she bashfully admits, "You've really helped me a lot."
"I know. Now, let's talk about dealing with your anger in school..."
YOU ARE READING
tongue of a fox, tongue of a cat || aespa || ningselle
Randomwhat do you do after you keep bumping into the girl whose day you ruined right after meeting her? ningning has the sweetest voice aeri has ever heard in her life. she also has the dirtiest mouth. and aeri might like that, though she never tells her.
