How We Ended Up Here

Aren't

"The first time we did something together was like this too." Your hands were clamped tight on the strap of your purse. Your company gave you the all clear to come into the agency. They assured you it wasn't anything to worry about but that could not quell the nervous pain in your stomach. "Happy one year.." Byul softly replied, her keys clinking in her hand. You pecked her cheek, eyes flickering up to the elevator camera out of habit.

Byul's hand was reassuring on the small of your back. You could feel her warmth through your shirt and you leaned into her side as the elevator doors to the parking lot opened. It was just before sunrise and the parking lot was empty. You could see your breath in the chill, your coat slung over the body of your purse. The two of you shuffled to her car, scooting into the passenger side when she opened the door for you.

You braced yourself, but there were no cameras you could see as she drove out of the parking garage. You visibly relaxed, tension leaving your body. When you came to the last stoplight to your company, Byul's hand left the steering wheel to squeeze your hand.

Byulyi pinched your elbow, laughing when her prank was blamed on your group mate. You were happy to see her, meetups had been infrequent since exchanging numbers as your schedules were booked with comebacks and concerts. You nudged her with your shoulder, swaying in your heels. Byulyi steadied you with a hand on your shoulder. "You okay?"

You shook off the feeling, you were lightheaded and your palms had run cold. You moved your hair out of your face,"Yeah..I think?"

"I'm just tired." We all were. The comeback was planned after the new year and you had finished shooting a solo cf for a makeup brand yesterday. You were lucky to squeeze in a nap before performing for the year end concert. You had even been roped into a last minute collaboration performance that you had not been planned to be in. Staying up late to learn the choreography the night after your shoot, and rehearsing just once that morning. You were in the hallway practicing until it was time to go onstage.

You didn't want to worry your fans or get scolded for not looking your best. So you pressed your lips into a neutral expression. Byulyi looked at you like she didn't believe you but thankfully, dropped it and went closer to her group. 

You were aching. As soon as you had gotten home you had collapsed on the couch. Too tired to make it to your shared bedroom. When you woke up no one else was there. Your mouth was parched and despite sleeping through the whole night you did not feel rested.

When you tried to stand you fell back on the couch, head spinning. That was not normal.

You managed a shower and a full cup of water before feeling too tired to do much else. You set your phone to charge and promised yourself to only just close your eyes for a few minutes. 

Your stomach hurt, which was probably the only reason you had woken up. You checked your phone, five in the afternoon. Had you really slept the whole day? 

You unlocked your phone checking the notification bar, only two. The message preview showed a reminder from your manager to take the day to rest. Tomorrow would be the first day of performing for your comeback. You pressed your hands to your eyes, there was no way you could perform. You pulled the bar down further to see who the second message was from. Byulyi.

There was a (2) next to her name so you opened it. Calling your manager could wait. The doorbell rang, you didn’t hear anyone get up to answer it. With a groan you eased out of bed, bringing your blanket with you. Even walking felt like a huge effort, your calves twinging with each step.

You opened the door not bothering to check the monitor. 
“Good thing I came over. You don’t look great.”

You blinked stupidly. A blur of purple hair and a jean jacket. Byulyi didn't wait to be invited in, pushing past you with a plastic bag in tow. "Huh...?"

You read the latest message first, I'm coming over. You glanced at the time stamp. Twenty minutes ago. Now for the first, hey, you doing okay? sent that morning.

"You didn't reply so I assumed the worst." She felt your forehead with the back of her hand to confirm her assumption, "Burning up. I brought medicine but first, food."

In a daze you waddled to the couch you had slept in hours before, leaning the side of your head on the couch. "How did you know?" You croaked, clearing your throat and adding on,"I didn't reply."

Byulyi shrugged, looking through your drawers for utensils then the fridge for the water pitcher.
"Had a feeling. Being overworked seems to be a common issue this year."

You snorted, Mamamoo had been way busier than your group's three comebacks. The group had exploded with their domestic concerts and in Japan. Television appearances and commercials. If anyone had been overworked it was them.

As if knowing what you were thinking she glared, "It's not a competition, everyone deserves to be taken care of."

"Tell that to my company," you complained. Byulyi set the table in front of you, spooning out rice porridge into a cup for you to sip. She had her own food, kimchi fried rice, with an overdone egg for herself. You ate in silence for a bit, your brain fuzzy and still unsure why she was there.

All you had been able to do was exchange texts after that filming well over a year ago. You had hung out with mutual friends, Seulgi usually organizing the events. Your promotion periods never seemed to overlap but you always remembered to send her a congratulations message and the occasional basket to her waiting room.

So how was she sitting on your couch like this was normal?

"How did you know I lived here?" The porridge was warm and despite being hot yourself, it felt good to have something besides water go down your throat. It also stopped the ache in your tummy.

"I asked Seulgi. Who asked your members if I could come over. They feel bad they didn't know you were sick."

Remembering the schedule for tomorrow you groaned, pushing a palm into your eyes,"There's no way I can perform tomorrow."

The warmth from the cup felt good on your eyelids. You were tired again. Byulyi bobbed her head in agreement, looking in the plastic bag for a small packet of pills. She opened it for you and you held your hand out, swallowing them with a mouthful of soup.

Hopefully the fever reducers would do their job. Your heart hurt. Conflicted feelings of thankfulness and confusion if this was her just being a good friend. You'd come to terms with being just a friend, too unsure of her reaction to your feelings. But suppressing your feelings was not the same as dealing with them. Butterflies still fluttered in your stomach when she touched you with friendly affection. You swore your heart and breathing stopped whenever her face was near yours. It wasn't healthy to pine for someone so you shoved those feelings down into a pit of your heart. But with her so close, so caring of you those feelings were prying that lock open and swelling almost painfully in your heart. You were too tired to analyze this further, your eyelids drooping despite the food you had just consumed.

Your chest felt tight and you had to forcibly remind yourself. Byulyi was a considerate person that would do this for any of her friends. But that's all she was. A friend.

"Thank you for helping me. I don't know what I would have done if you had not been here." You flashed her a genuine smile, trying to hide your tiredness. Byulyi shyly scratched her cheek, looking away from you.
"I know, I know, you'd do it for anyone." You ended with a yawn, setting your unfinished bowl on the coffee table and leaning your head into the couch.

"Well not just anyone.." She muttered, still not looking at you. You had heard her wrong, your fevered mind rationalized. There was definitely not anything more to that statement.

"What do you mean...?" You asked, but your eyes were already closing. You felt her hand touch your head, smoothing down your hair. The back of her knuckles on your cheekbone. "Don't worry about it, just rest."