One Night

1. JKs, B.Is, and PB&Js

"Y/n, where are you?"

I hit my head on the bar of my closet as I straighten up, cursing under my breath. "I'm in my closet!" I yell back, my head throbbing, as I carefully back out of the closet, glowering at it.

Two hours of work, yet it not only looks like I've accomplished nothing, I've also injured myself twice now - although, admittedly, the broken nail wasn't as bad as the closet bar against my head just now.

Hannah appears in my doorway, a broad grin on her face. "You'll never guess what just happened."

"I'm guessing you weren't cleaning your room and damaging yourself in the process," I rub my head as she laughs.

"No. Wait, you said you're cleaning?" She walks over to the closet, peering in, then turns. "Not very successfully."

"I hate you so much." I flop back on my clothing-cluttered bed. "It's your fault I have so much clothing anyway. If you weren't here, I'd wear sweatpants every day."

"If I wasn't here, you would miss me," Hannah grins, flopping down next to me, and I grin as she tucks her arm beside her head, staring up at my ceiling.

"What was your big news?"

"Oh!!" She bounces up, her eyes bright. "You'll never guess."

"We already established that."

Hannah hits me with the envelope she's holding. "I got tickets, Y/n!"

"To..." I give her a quizzical look, trying to remember if we talked about a concert or something recently.

"The fanmeet! I entered this drawing, like, four weeks ago, and they sent them to me."

"Is this another fanmeet to feed your Korean boy fetish?" I groan, flopping back on the bed as she gives me a grin.

"We literally live in Korea, it's not a Korean boy fetish, there's just a conspicuous lack of hot white boys here."

"Lies."

Hannah sits on the bed next to me, her voice less loud. "You'll come with me, right?"

"Why do you need me?"

"You know I can't speak Korean for shit! I still can't believe you convinced me we needed to go to college here in Seoul."

"It's got an amazing - "

"I know, it feeds your nerd-ness, now please just tell me you'll come to translate for me."

"You understand more than you think you do."

"I don't." She pouts at me. "Come on, please?"

"Am I the older one or - wait, that's you, you're coercing your younger sister into being your personal translator?" I feign shock and Hannah lets out an annoyed sound, grabbing a pillow from the end of the bed, smacking me with it.

"You're younger by three minutes, that's not enough time to pull that card."

"Damn it, I tried."

She grins, discarding the pillow, and I frown as it rolls onto the floor. "Hannah! You know how long it's been since you vacuumed?"

"Three months," she replies promptly, making me glower at her before she continues. "Please say you'll come with me, Y/n, you know I don't have anyone else here and I can't see this second ticket go to waste."

I sigh, sitting up. "I've got terms and conditions."

She bounces to her feet, her face bright. "Anything!"

"You have to vacuum the house and actually do the housekeeping things that you said you would."

Hannah sighs. "Including cleaning the fridge?"

I raise an eyebrow and she grins. "Fine. Anything else?"

"Hm..." I consider, reaching for the pillow on the floor. "You're not allowed to squeal."

Hannah rolls her eyes, grinning. "Seriously? Have you ever known me to squeal?"

I laugh out loud, throwing the pillow at her. "Every day, Hannah. Twenty-four seven, three sixty-five."

"Fine." She grins at me. "Thanks."

"I'm not going to say I'm happy to go either, their music sucks."

"I haven't even told you who it is yet," Hannah protests and I nod, grinning playfully.

"All the music you listen to sucks, so it stands to reason that this will too."

Hannah laughs, shaking her head at me. "It's BTS, Y/n, they're so amazing. Their rappers are so talented, plus have you even heard JK sing?"

"Yeah, not my type." I can't keep all her groups straight, the JKs and B.Is and PB&Js of the world all blurring into the people of dancing, bright music I'll never listen to.

"He's so hot," Hannah turns to my bed, sorting through the piles of clothing. "He's got the sweetest smile ever, and he's only two years older than we are."

"I'll stick to the guys I find, thanks." I turn to the clothing on the bed as well, tossing a shirt across the room to my donate pile. "They're fine for me."

"Hah, what guys," Hannah grins playfully and I roll my eyes at her, grinning.

"If I can't get guys, there's no way you can either, because we look exactly the same."

"Difference, I'm not stuck with your personality." Hannah pulls a shirt from the pile, frowning. "I've never seen this before, isn't it way too big for you?"

I tilt my head, trying to remember where that came from, and I take it from her hands, holding it out. It's white, with the Stussy logo emblazoned on the right half, with a list of cities underneath it in a graffiti/spraypaint-type font.

I didn't buy this, did I?

I turn it to hold it up to my body, and it's way too big: it would completely fall off my shoulders, coming down to almost my knee. "I don't remember where I got this," I reply, biting my lip, the memory just out of reach, and I hold it out again, finally starting to fold it, my hands stilling as I notice a stain that looks almost as if liquid soap or something had been splattered on the fabric, drying there.

I squint, leaning closer, running my fingers over the stain when my eyes widen and I drop the shirt, remembering where it came from, what the stain is, clapping my hand over my mouth.

"What?" Hannah reaches for the shirt and I snatch it out of her grasp, my face bright red.

"Nothing, it's fine." I turn away from her so she can't see my burning face, folding the shirt and stuffing it far back in my top dresser drawers.

"Y/n," Hannah whines playfully and I press my hands to my cheeks in an attempt to cool them down before I turn back to her.

"It's nothing, seriously, just a stupid shirt."

"Hmm." Hannah raises her eyebrows at me, grinning mischeviously, and I glare at her.

"Either help or get out."

"You know I'm your favorite sister," she coos playfully, picking up a shirt to fold.

"You're my least favorite sister, actually."

"I'm your only sister!"

"Exactly."

~

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