It’s so ridiculous I almost want to laugh. Almost.

I turn my phone off. I don’t want to see any more articles or read any more comments. My career may be over, but that doesn’t mean I have to be reminded of it every five seconds.

I go on autopilot, wandering aimlessly around Seoul as a foggy numbness settles over my brain, until I somehow find myself outside the twins’ apartment. If anyone will help distract me from today, I know they will.

I’m greeted by Hyeri, her hair in giant pink curlers on top of her head. “Rachel!” she cries. She looks surprised but pleased to see me, ushering me into the apartment. “I see you’ve changed your mind about the gala. Perfect timing!”

“Did I hear you say Rachel?” Juhyun’s voice calls from the bathroom. She pokes her head out, her eyebrows half drawn in. “Hi. You’re here! Good. Just sit down and don’t think about anything. We’ll help you with your hair and makeup as soon as we’re done!”

The living room is in total chaos, dresses flung over the back of the brown leather couches and makeup pouches bursting open like treasure chests all over the coffee table, leaving trails of mascara and lipstick tubes spilling onto the floor. I totally forgot that the Molly Folly gala is tonight. The twins are so busy getting ready, I realize they haven’t seen the articles yet. Just as well. The longer I can go without talking about it, the better.

“Sorry for the mess,” Hyeri says. She leads me to the kitchen, where a row of alcohol bottles is lined up neatly on the table, all ready for the twins’ predrink. She pulls out a chair for me, patting the seat before bustling back to the living room to finish getting ready. “Make yourself comfortable,” she calls over her shoulder.

I do as I’m told, sliding down the chair and resting my head face-first on the lacquered table surface. I am a blob. A giant, feeling-less blob.

I don’t know how long I sit like that before I notice the twins are standing in front of me. I look up at them, my hair falling in my eyes. Their perfectly drawn eyebrows are furrowed in identical expressions of concern. Juhyun’s hair is in a princess bun on top of her head, and Hyeri’s falls down her back in long, sweeping curls. They look party-ready, except for the fact that they’re both still in their getting-ready pajamas.

“Everything okay, Rachel?” Hyeri asks.

“Yes.”

“By yes, do you really mean no?”

“Yes.”

Hyeri and Juhyun exchange glances.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Juhyun asks.

“No.” I droop back onto the table. “I don’t want to ruin your night. You have a party to go to.”

They start to protest, but I wave them away. “No, no, it’s fine, seriously. I just need a drink. Here.”

I grab the bottle of tequila and pop it open. Still slouched over the table like a sloth refusing to let go of its tree branch, I take a big gulp straight from the bottle. Juhyun and Hyeri stare at me as I start to chug, wincing only slightly at the taste of the sour liquid.

“Okay, where’s Rachel and what have you done with her?” Juhyun asks.

“If you’re going to keep asking questions, at least drink with me,” I say, wiping a dribble of tequila from my chin.

“All right,” Hyeri says. She picks up the bottle of peach makgeolli, cracking it open. “You’re obviously sad about something and there’s nothing sadder than drinking alone. So we’re with you. Jjan!”

Juhyun lifts a can of beer. “Jjan!”

We all cheers, and down our drinks.

An hour later, I’m buzzed.

Maybe even a little drunk. But just a really tiny little bit.

When I tell Juhyun and Hyeri that they look like they’re going to a fancy pajama party, they scream and insist that I get made up too. They curl my hair and give me a fresh face of makeup with perfect cat-eye eyeliner and siren-red lipstick. Juhyun even paints my nails in the new galaxy pattern she learned how to do. At some point, one of us has the idea that we should dress up for the party even if we’re not going, so we all change into fancy cocktail dresses, collapsing on the couch with a bottle of wine and a huge family pack of cuttlefish chips, our heels up on the gigantic marble and glass coffee table.

“Whose idea was this anyway?” I laugh, hiccuping over my glass of wine.

“Yours,” Juhyun and Hyeri say at the same time.

We all crack up. I snuggle into the couch, resting my head against Juhyun’s shoulder. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or if it just hasn’t hit me yet that DB is probably going to kick me out, but in this moment, all I feel is a strange sense of relief.

I feel free, normal even.

I imagine this being my everyday life, getting ready for parties with my friends, hanging out without feeling guilty for not spending every spare minute practicing, laughing as Hyeri throws chips in the air and catches them in her mouth while Juhyun tries to intercept and swat them away. It’s so uncomplicated. I could get used to this kind of life.

Maybe it’s what I’ve always needed.

Suddenly there’s a knock on the door, and all three of us groan.

“Nooooo,” I say, sinking deeper into the couch. “But I’m so comfy.”

“Me too,” Juhyun says. She pokes Hyeri with her toe. “You go get it; you’re the youngest.”

“You’re only older by ten minutes!” Hyeri quips back.

“Fair is fair, maknae,” Juhyun says as whoever’s at the door knocks again.

“Fine, but I’m taking these,” Hyeri says, grabbing the bag of cuttlefish chips. Hoisting it in her arms like a baby, she teeters across the room in her stiletto heels and swings the door open.

Daeho is standing on the other side, dressed to the nines in a blue velvet tux. He actually looks pretty good with his hair waxed neatly back and a bouquet of red roses in his arms. I think he even put on some BB cream. Go, Daeho.

“H-hi,” he says, clearly nervous.

“Daeho.” Hyeri’s eyes widen. “What are you doing here?” A look of realization crosses her face and she hastily steps aside, gesturing over to where Juhyun and I are sitting on the couch. “You must be here for Juhyun.”

“Juhyun?” Daeho says, a confused look flashing across his face. “Um, actually?” He takes a deep breath and thrusts the bouquet of roses into Hyeri’s arms. “I’m here for you.”

Hyeri’s so surprised she drops the bag in her arms. Cuttlefish chips go flying everywhere, skittering across the hardwood floor. “For me?”

“There’s a card inside,” Daeho says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hyeri plucks out the card and reads out loud. “ ‘It’s taken me a million years to say, but I think about you every day. My heart already belongs to you, so will you be my girlfriend?’ ” She looks up at Daeho, her eyes wide. “Is this for real?”

He pales. “Why? Is it too cheesy? Or creepy? Too cheesy and creepy?”

From her spot on the couch, Juhyun shouts, “Too cheesy!”

“No one asked you!” Hyeri shouts back, shaking her head vigorously. “Ignore her please.”

She presses the card against her heart. “It’s perfect. It’s just, I always thought you had a crush on Juhyun.”