Even if her eyes are full of hatred, they're still beautiful. Rin's always been gorgeous, and she's only matured more in our four years of separation. I've only ever seen a glare like that from her a couple of times, and seeing it again sends memories of our fights flooding back to the forefront of my mind. It's good that I'm doing this, I decide, if for no other reason than to give me some closure. But as Rin starts for the dressing room door, I snap back into reality.

I throw myself in front of the door I'd hidden behind, hoping that Juyoung has done his part on the other side. I knock lightly and hear one in response. Thank God, he's still watching the door. I'm really going to owe him after this.

"Move," Rin practically spits the word at me as she approaches.

"Can I just talk to you?" I ask her.

"What makes you think I want anything to do with you?"

"You don't. At least, not right now. I get that. That's why I'm here."

"What?" Though confused, she still looks about ready to commit first-degree murder.

I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

She pauses. For just a fraction of a moment, her eyes drain of the rage that had filled them the previous instant. For just a fraction of a moment, she seems merely confused. It doesn't last long.

"Sure you are. What is it you want from me?" There's the bitterness again. Stubborn, as usual.

"To talk. I only want to talk."

"And I don't. Get out of the way."

I hear a small click from the other side of the door, followed by another quiet knock. Did Juyoung just do what I think he did?

"I said, move." Rin shoves me to the side and turns the doorknob, but it doesn't budge. Yep, it seems Juyoung has locked the door.

"Give me the key," she commands.

"I don't have it; I swear on my life."

"Then who locked the door?"

I'm about to respond, but she answers her own question. "You got Juyoung in on this, didn't you?"

"He offered to help."

"That son of a bitch."

"Look, Rin—"

"Don't call me that."

"It's your name. What would you rather I call you?"

She heaves a sigh, apparently not having an answer. "Okay, fine. Rin is fine. Now, tell me exactly what you want."

"Like I said, I want to talk this out."

A sigh escapes her lips. She looks not quite defeated but rather exhausted. Reluctantly, she motions to a couch against the wall. "Okay. We'll talk."

I nod and take a seat on one end of the couch, sitting cross-legged and facing Rin, who's on the opposite end and doing her best to sit as far away from me as possible.

"What do you want to talk about?" She asks me.

"Why I'm here," I respond. Then the explanation begins. "Look, I saw you at Underground. It was just sort of a coincidence; I hadn't even known you were performing there, but when I saw you, for lack of a better analogy, I felt like I got hit by a train. I felt so guilty and I was pissed at myself for letting things with us get as out of hand as they did. I'm sorry about what happened, Rin; I really am. I know I should've considered your feelings, but I didn't. I was cocky and I wasn't looking out for you the way I should have been. I should've thought of how you'd feel when I—"

"Stop."

I sputter, expelling all of the excess air from my lungs before choking out the beginnings of a syllable. Rin is just sitting there, staring into her lap, very clearly trying to deal with several things working themselves out in her mind. I close my mouth, just watching her think for a minute or so. Her expression slowly begins to change, showing anger, confusion, and maybe a hint of sadness before finally landing on a blank, thoughtful look. I gather the courage and humility necessary to speak again.

"I've missed you, Rin. I want to try being friends again."

At those words, her chocolate eyes meet mine. She looks me over for a moment, almost like she's trying to verify that I'm real, and then she speaks.

"Okay."

"W— Wait, really?"

"Yeah." Finally, her gaze softens, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from her shoulders. "I'm sorry, too."

That is the response I'd hoped for the most but expected the least. Even though I'm the one apologizing, Rin played a bigger role in our split than I did. We were both full of ourselves when we were kids; we could never be wrong. Now, it seems, things have changed for both of us, and we've only learned more about the world.

"Apology accepted," I manage, despite my disbelief.

Rin stretches, moving a bit closer to me on the couch. She still sits on the opposite end, but no longer looks as if she wants to run away from me. "So, how have you been?" The sincerity of the previous moment has been completely drowned in awkwardness.

"Oh, I've been alright," I say, scratching the nape of my neck. "Busy, but alright."

"I can imagine."

"What about you? Anything new?"

"Same old, same old. I've been doing the same thing for years, Gloss—" She cuts herself off, face flushing. I went by Gloss back when we were close. She tended to call me that more often than she used my real name. I, though, always used her name to address her. "Silver" makes her come across as much colder than she actually is.

"I— Sorry," she manages. Her cheeks are getting closer and closer to crimson by the second, but I can't help but chuckle.

"It's fine, Rin. Just call me Yoongi."

"Not Suga? You're sure that's all right?"

"You obviously don't like Suga. Yoongi, though? I think deep down you still don't totally hate Yoongi."

She smiles, and I can't help but realize that I'm right about that. I mean, she accepted my apology, after all. "Okay, Yoongi it is."

If possible, things have gotten only more awkward, but I love it. I'd rather awkwardness than anger any day. Looking at Rin as she intently studies the couch, I think of the days when we used to be inseparable. Silver and Gloss: best friends, partners in crime, joined at the hip. We were hardly ever apart. And now, seeing her four years older on the other side of this couch, it's like we're both totally different people. In a way, I guess we are. I changed my name, after all. If that doesn't make me different, what does? But something in Rin still seems the same. I wonder if she sees that in me.

"So, Bangtan, huh?" She chuckles, probably at her pitiful attempt to make conversation. She's still studying the leather couch as if trying to count the threads in the cushion seams.

I smile. "Yeah, it's wild. Everyone I work with is insane."

"I'd think so," she looks up at me, finally. God, those eyes. "You've traveled a lot, haven't you?"

"Yeah, I've been all over. Even did a reality show in the States."

"Seriously? That sounds amazing. What did you do?"

"For the sake of simplicity, I'm just going to call it 'Hip Hop Camp.'"

"And that is?"

"I don't know, really. We just did random things to make us 'real hip hop artists' or something. I'm still traumatized."

"Why? Nobody hurt you, right?" She seems genuinely concerned. Internally, her worriedness instills some sort of joy in me. She still cares.

"Not physically, no," I respond. "The whole show started with us getting fake-kidnapped. The kidnapping itself might've been staged, but we were all genuinely terrified."

She laughs lightly, but in a nervous kind of way. "I would've had a heart attack."

Then her phone beeps. She pulls it out of her pocket and checks the message. "Oh, shit. I should go; Juyoung was going to take me out for french fries."

"Ah, okay. Wait, french fries at midnight?"

"It's what he wanted. I don't know, he made a convincing case. I'm really looking forward to them now."

"I see."

She stands and gets ready to leave but suddenly turns around. "Hey, give me your phone."

"Why?"

"I was going to give you my number. Do you want it, or—"

"I never deleted it," I reply. "If you didn't change it, then I should still have it."

A shocked look overtakes her face. "O— Okay. I never changed it, so..." she trails off.

"I'll text you now, just to be sure," I say. She nods and I shoot her a quick text: just the word hello! and nothing else. Moments later, her phone beeps again.

"Got it," she says with a smile. "Alright, I've got to find Juyoung. He unlocked the door, right?"

"I'd hope so," I say, standing. Rin pulls the door handle and it swings open to reveal the backstage hallway.

"So, I'll see you around?" I ask her, smiling.

"Yeah, I'd like that. Look, Yoongi, I'm sorry about everything, again."

"I know. I am, too. Let's just put it behind us now, okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. Goodnight, Yoongi."

"Goodnight, Rin." She walks off in one direction and I head in the other, making my way to the parking lot to wait for a cab. I stand around at the side of the venue for awhile, not wanting to be out on the street. It's a bit chilly, but I'm not terribly uncomfortable. It's a bracing cold. The night sky is dotted with white clouds turned gray in the moonlight. The bright lights of Seoul drown out the stars, but a few of the brighter ones are still visible. Has the city always been this way?

"Yoongi?" A voice I thought I'd said goodnight to speaks to me again.

"That's me," I chuckle, turning to face Rin. "What's going on?"

"Juyoung's gone; his car's not here. What are you doing here?"

"I was about to call a taxi, actually."

"Ah. Well, don't."

"Excuse me?"

"Look. I really want some terrible french fries and a friend to share them with. I'll take you home."

"Oh. Yeah, okay. I'm down for french fries."

"Awesome. Now, let's go." She drags me by my sleeve towards her car as if I'm going to protest spending time with her. I open the door to her old blue Sorento and jump in as she gets in the driver's seat. She starts the car and the radio starts playing a GFriend song. I don't remember which one it is because they all sound alike, but I eventually pick up on some Spanish coming through.

"You can play whatever you want," Rin says. "Shotgun privilege."

"I've had enough underground for one day," I say, laughing lightly. "Nice to have something to mellow us out."

"Hah, alright. That's fair, I guess." We take off into the streets, eventually pulling into a drive-thru. Rin gets two large fries and I force her to let me pay for them. Then I give her directions back to my apartment complex. She parks outside and I open up the bag with our food in it, handing Rin her midnight snack. She takes it with a small "thank you" and begins to eat. I follow suit.

"God, these are horrible. I love them," she says, mouth half full.

I smile slightly at her statement, conscious of the food filling my mouth. I swallow and then add my commentary. "Yeah, I get it. I haven't had fast food in forever."

"Company diet?"

"Just never had the time."

She gives me a quizzical look. "It's fast food. The whole point is that you eat fast food when you don't have time for anything else."

"I'm just telling it like it is."

We continue to chat through mouthfuls of french fries, neither of us caring about manners. I empty my carton just slightly before Rin does. When we've both finished eating, I realize I have no desire to leave.

"Thanks for coming with me, Yoongi," Rin says.

"Of course. Thanks for taking me home."

"Not just that, though. Thanks for reaching out to me today. It, uh— It really means a lot. I know I wasn't the best back then, but I'm really happy you decided I was worth your time."

"You've always been worth my time, Rin." I take her now empty carton of fries from her and put it in the bag, my intention being to throw them out. "Goodnight, for real this time. "

She laughs the final laugh I'll hear from her tonight. "Right. Goodnight, Yoongi."

I step out of the car and I'm about to close the door when Rin speaks up. "By the way, you're rocking the green hair. I like it a lot."

I laugh. "Thanks. My company will not stop dyeing it. I'm worried it's all going to fall out soon."

"If it does, sue them."

"I might. Okay, third time's the charm; goodnight, Ah Rin."

"Goodnight, Min Yoongi."

I close her car door and step up to the front of my apartment complex. I shoot Rin a wave from the door and she returns it, albeit shyly. I turn and enter the building, getting into the elevator to take me up to my dorm. There's a mirror at the back of the elevator, and I can't help but study my reflection.

My face is thinner, my clothes nicer, my voice deeper, and my hair better. The boy I was four years ago is nearly gone.

I am definitely not Gloss anymore.

☽☼☾