tongue of a fox, tongue of a cat || aespa || ningselle

8

Yizhuo's first performance was back a few years ago, not too long after she arrived in Korea. Her pronounciation of Korean words were way off, and no one really wanted to listen to her sing in Mandarin. She didn't know that many English songs either, but she took her shot. She sang in English.

Undoubtably her voice was lovely, but people can be so unnecessarily cruel sometimes, and Yizhuo learnt that the hard way. She did always love a standing ovation and applause, but her least favourite was group of male students who had snickered unkindly and mocked her with false claps and told her to run herself back to her country.

Yizhuo is a person of pride, always has been. She'd scoffed at them and told them to fuck off in that loud and powerful voice of hers, but still, words hurt, and the sharpest of them buried themselves in Yizhuo's heart like shards of glass.

After that, she busked less often, until she didn't busk at all. It was too much to think of.

Words, how distorted they can become.

It was a xenophobic remark. How did that turn into days where she stared at her reflection wondering if she was ugly or unapproachable? It worsened when it struck her as a realisation when maybe, this face of hers, or whatever she was, was the reason SMU held her as their trophy and nothing else.

The saying time heals all wounds rings true for Yizhuo, but partially. Jimin had comforted her all throughout high school and when she got into SMU. Maybe it was because Jimin was the top of her class in her major and was able to figure out why Yizhuo developed her issues, but she and Minjeong stuck around no matter how Yizhuo snapped and shouted.

A kicked puppy is one thing. A kicked puppy is Minjeong sulking because of her midterm grades. A hurt dog is another.

A hurt dog is Yizhuo slamming doors in people's faces, locking herself in for days, dyeing and bleaching her hair or piercing her ears whenever minor stress hit her. Maybe the habit of acrylics and bold jewellery is Yizhuo's style now, because now she's confident and beautiful (she always was, but even more so now), but it started out as the beginning of the shedding of openly soft, wearing-her-heart-on-her-sleeve Yizhuo.

...

(Jimin and Minjeong had decided to U-turn back to Yizhuo's. They greeted her in her bedroom, snacks set out for sharing on the floor. Yizhuo has never been more grateful for them.)

She chews on a pocky stick.

"Are you guys friends now?" Minjeong asks.

Yizhuo shrugs and shifts her attention to another snack. She rolls the malteser between her fingers before popping it into her mouth. "Dunno."

"She's fun. Can we hang out with her at school?"

"You don't have to ask me y'know. This isn't middle school," Yizhuo says. "You can do whatever you like."

"Is this a 'disapproving-girlfriend you-can-do-whatever-you-like' or a 'we're-adults-we-can-do-whatever-we-like' you can do whatever you like?" Jimin says humorously.

"You would know what a disapproving-girlfriend you-can-do-whatever-you-like would sound like," Yizhuo chuckles. Minjeong's nose scrunches up. Jimin puts her hands over Minjeong's ears.

"My Minjeong is a darling who communicates very well," she defends. Yizhuo lazily throws a kernel of chocolate popcorn at Jimin, which bounces off her chest and onto the carpet. She picks it up and eats it. Yizhuo makes a face.

"You're so gross, man, our feet have been all over this."

"It adds flavour," Jimin jokes. It makes Yizhuo gag and Minjeong laugh. In no time the both of them have found each other funnier than the actual popcorn thing and start screeching down the house.