Turns out your feet took you to your childhood home.

Unfortunately for you, it wasn't there anymore. You couldn't pinpoint one exact reason why the tears started flowing nonstop as you looked at the building in front of you. It was completely different. You should've been happy about that. You struggled with the idea for years of coming back to the house for the thought of it hurting too much, and yet you never thought about it being gone completely.

You'd gone after you'd walked around for a few hours, stopped by to eat somewhere, and walked some more– so the sky was a bit darker now. The sight of the porch light illuminating the wooden boards at the front of the house broke your heart. It was probably the only thing that resembled your old home. You remembered the sight of it whenever you'd come home late after hanging out with Sana or some other random kids as you prepared to get yelled at.

You probably looked like a fool sitting against the fence that bordered all the houses, head buried in your knees. You didn't want to be too loud and you did your best to stifle your sobs. The house across from you looked the same as it did before, if only a little newer. It broke your heart a bit more. Why was it yours? But, hadn't you asked for that?

Your teenage years weren't something to be admired. Somewhere along the line, you went from the perfect child to a lost one. You didn't know you could love a girl, and when the first girl that you did love told you it was okay, you quickly found out that for you– it was not. For you, it was different. That wasn't your fault. It was your family's. You were just a kid. And yet, you only ever put a little blame on them, despite your contradicting words. You knew you punished yourself for a long time, and the one to bring you out of that and help you heal was Sana.

In all truth, you hadn't loved somebody in a while after her. Sana always tried to encourage you to, but you were unsure. You never let anyone in after how everything turned out and you didn't even know if you fully knew how to love anyone. And it definitely didn't help that you had to constantly see her face if you wanted to support Sana.

And It wasn't Tzuyu's fault, either. You knew that, but your sadness was connected to her. You found it hard to face her. At first she'd tried to talk to you, but of course you found an excuse to leave every time. She wasn't a stupid girl. She'd never been. So, she kept her distance.

You laughed as Nayeon joined in, then Momo, then the rest of them all one by one.

And you were thankful. Sana didn't try to get you to talk to her, but she'd reassured you that she let Tzuyu know you weren't upset with her, and more so upset with how it felt. So you weren't exactly sure why you were connected to the house. You weren't sure why you felt so much regret looking at the picture of you and your dad. You weren't sure why you hated yourself for not being as nice as you should've been when he made everything so painful for you. You weren't sure why you loved him, still, and your mom too. You weren't sure why the only time you'd ever thought you'd come back here was to show Jennie where you grew up.

Jennie.

You felt another blow to your chest at the thought of her. You almost felt embarrassed at how quickly you allowed yourself to care for her. You knew that you saw something in her that reminded her of you. You had somewhat escaped the part of your life that was scrutinizing, that kept you from sleeping at night— but she had not. Your heart would break when you saw her barely manage to keep cool under the pressure, or when you saw the hurt and fear in her eyes when she was told about the rumor of her and Teddy dating. She'd been cold and hard to get through from the get go, but even the ones who claimed they hated working for her had felt pity for her when she struggled to breathe as the rumors hit their peak and she was scolded for putting the group's reputation in danger.

It wasn't her fault. You remembered thinking that as you ran upstairs. It wasn't her fault that this was happening. It wasn't your fault that anything happened. It wasn't Tzuyu's. You knew how unfair everything was, and with your hand placed on Jennie's knee, you reminded her that she could get through that. She'd grasped at your hand tightly and nodded vigorously as you whispered comforting sentences to her. Jisoo had been quick to follow you and take over. The night after, you'd approached Jennie with the idea of weed, thus starting your smoke sessions.

It made you happy to see Jennie giggle, or unconsciously ramble about something she liked, or fill you in on her worries, or ask you questions; really, it just made you happy to spend any time with her. Over those few months you two had built a sense of trust, and she preferred you to be the one to do things for her, which you happily obliged.

You hadn't confronted what it meant to sit and daydream about taking her to your childhood home. She had mentioned how happy she was whenever she was back in Seoul. It was a brief comment. She hadn't asked you about where you lived or how you felt when you were back home, but it only made you realize how much distance you always kept between you and the building you were sitting and sobbing in front of.

It wasn't a good place for you, if the tears falling down your shirt were any sign of that. Maybe, you'd hoped bringing Jennie here would change it. She'd replace it with a new memory, and instead of thinking of all the nights you drowned in your efforts to please everyone, you'd think of her smiling at you on the steps of the small staircase leading up to the door.

But it was gone, and there was a new family living there. Apparently you hadn't been as quiet as you hoped, because one of the members were looking at you concernedly.

"Are you alright?" Her voice was soothing. Melodic, even.

You wiped your tears and sniffled, nodding quickly. "Yes, I'm sorry," you said, and you tried to stand up. You stumbled a little and she caught you by the arm and pulled you up. "thank you."

"Sure." she smiled, though it was gone as quickly as it came. "I don't mean to be rude, but is there a reason you're sitting outside our house crying? It's just... we could hear you. We were kind of spooked."

You hung your head low, "I'm really sorry, ma'am. I- I didn't even think about how creepy that might be."

"It's fine, and you don't have to call me that." She reassured you, "I'm just worried someone might call the cops on you."

"Wouldn't be the first time I was threatened with that." You chuckled, but she obviously didn't get what you were referring to and she looked perplexed. "Um, not like that. Long story." She nodded.

"This just used to be where I lived when I was really young." You explained. She parted her lips in surprise at the new information. "I think I was caught off guard by... it not being there anymore, I guess."

"Oh." She breathed out, her eyes washing over with pity. "Yeah. I'm sorry. That must be hard."

You laughed lightly, "Well, yeah, I'm not taking it the best."

"Evidently." She quipped. You two chuckled at it, but the silence came soon after. You were all too aware of where you were now, and you didn't like it. You opened your mouth to speak, but she cut you off.

"I kind of get how you feel."

You looked up at her, "Really?"

"Yeah," she said. "I never really lived in one place my whole life. This," she gestured to the house, "is actually the first time I've settled somewhere. Well, it's only been about two and a half years, but it's the longest I've stayed somewhere."

"Wow." You responded, genuinely. You couldn't imagine moving that much your whole life, and she seemed to be about your age, maybe even older.

"So I guess I don't get what it's like to lose a home." She chuckled. "But I also never really had one. And that kind of sucked too. I probably would've cried in front of one of them too, if I ever let myself make a connection to it."

"I'm sorry too." You said softly. She nodded in thanks. "Honestly, I don't know why I miss this so much. It's not like I even liked it here."

"Really? Why?" She tilted her head. "The area bad or something?"

"Eh, no, actually I loved this neighborhood." You shook your head. "It was more... my family. My own experience, I guess."

"Ah," she clicked her tongue, "family. Always a complicated thing."

"That's one way to put it." You agreed. "But, anyway I won't bother you any longer. I'm really sorry again. I'm not usually a crier, but just... a lot of things are happening in my life right now... too quickly. I don't even know why I thought this was a good idea."

"Well, when you're hurt, sometimes you try and hurt yourself more." She shrugged. "I get it. I've been trying to do that less myself."

"Any tips?" You asked.

She stared at you in thought for a moment, "I'm still trying to sort of figure it out, but... it usually starts with being kinder to myself. I think I try and hurt myself because I think I deserve it, when really, I probably don't."

You bit your lip, nodding. You always loved the night. It made people honest, and it sometimes washed away the fear of expressing your vulnerabilities. But something about the woman in front of you made you feel like this wasn't just the night, but who she truly was. Honest. And kind. You seemed to have met two good people since arriving here, and you told yourself you would try and focus on that instead of all the bad.

"Also," her voice took you out of your thoughts. "I write music. So that helps."

"Oh, really?" You asked, your interest peaked at the news of her being a singer. "Do you have music out?"

"I do." She laughed softly. "But I'm not gonna plug it. Just don't wanna be that girl."

You pouted. "Oh, come on. Please? Stranger to stranger?"

"No, please." She laughed. "Tell you what, I ever see you again— by chance— I'll tell you who I am. But for now, I'll just be that nice stranger you met on that one painful night."

You sighed, before you smiled at her. "Thank you. Really. I'll try and throw myself into a hobby too. I have a guitar in my room."

"Oh, great, there you go!" She grinned. "I hope that it makes this a little easier. And it'd probably be best if you try not to pass this street for the next few days."

You agreed. And then you went home. And then you got into bed.You probably resembled a kid with the way you held Moxy close to you.

Your eyes fell on your bedroom door. Sometimes your dad would pop in and say goodnight. Some nights it was an apology.

This night, it was nothing but silence. You thought maybe you preferred it when you were sobbing. With clenched teeth, you turned around and flipped the picture of your father over and set it down on the table.

You exhaled a shaky breath. You knew you promised, but you'd call Sana tomorrow.

Or maybe you wouldn't, because as you leaned on your kitchen counter with your phone in your hand, the ringing of the call seemed to go on and on, each one leading to voicemail. You sighed heavily. You hoped that she wasn't mad at you, but you also understood. You lost a job. It happens. You honestly thought you were being pathetic.

You hadn't really been able to get that much sleep. It was still the next day, but you woke up at 5 am, and you'd waited for hours until you assumed it was a reasonable time to call Sana. 10 am.

Probably much too late. They were most likely rehearsing for some performance, and speaking of performance, something had dawned on you as you sat mindlessly on the couch of your living room that morning. In a few weeks, they'd be here. They'd be in Seoul.

You'd pondered for a few hours if you would go watch them perform. It was actually why you wanted to call Sana, other than to apologize. You needed advice with what to do. You wouldn't be able to avoid hearing about it either way, only further confirmed to you when you decided to get coffee at a new coffee shop that had been placed only ten minutes from your apartment.

It didn't take more than two minutes for you to overhear someone excitedly talking about the upcoming performance. It was honestly sooner than you'd expected to hear about it, but you assumed the enthusiastic girl sitting with her friend was a fan and she was counting down the days until it happened. As you sat and waited for your coffee, you tried your best to not focus on how she rambled on about them, but it was all you could hear.

"I can't wait! I've never been to a live performance before," the girl squealed. She looked to be about fourteen. "I'm so glad my parents let me go."

"Me too." The other one, who seemed to be about the same age, agreed. She seemed a bit calmer than the other girl. "Whose your favorite again? Lisa?"

"Of course! Whose yours?"

"Jennie."

You scoffed.

"I would honestly be offended you didn't know that with how much I talk about her, but I guess I'm at fault too."

You discreetly looked over at the girl. It sounded like something you would say, and the way she sat and smiled and moved reminded her of you. And what else, she also loved Jennie.

Your name was called suddenly for your coffee. At the same time, a text from Sana appeared on your phone. You slowly stood up from your seat, your eyes skimming over the text message.

'At rehearsals, sorry. I hope you are doing okay, you didn't call'

Deciding you'd reply as soon as you got your coffee, you placed it in your pocket and proceeded to walk over and grab your drink with a quick smile, thanking the barista. When you turned around, you just barely managed to save your drink as you bumped into someone, your hand in the air so that your coffee was out of reach.

An apology was already starting to fall off your tongue when you realized who it was you bumped into.

"What are you doing here?" You laughed, surprised to see the other woman.

"Getting breakfast," she chuckled. "What a coincidence. I honestly thought our little moment at the airport would be our last."

You smiled, "Are you.. here with anyone?"

She shook her head. "No. Are you?"

"I'm afraid it's just me," you sighed. "Do you wanna sit together?"

With a swift motion, she reached behind you to grab her own drink. Your eyes fell down to the other item in her hand: pumpkin bread. You suddenly felt hungry, which she clearly noticed, because she smirked at you once she got back in front of you.

"Why not? And don't worry, I'll share." She laughed, letting you lead the way to the table you were sitting in.

"Oh, no you don't have to." You reassured her, both of you taking your seats in a booth.

"I will." She shrugged before taking half of the bread and handing it over to you. You opened your mouth to protest; that was way too generous, but she arched an eyebrow at you that told you it wouldn't have gotten you anywhere, so you closed it and thanked her instead.

She nodded proudly. Then she cleared her throat, "I never did get your name, you know."

"Oh, right. Y/n," you held out your hand across the table, which she firmly grasped.

"Lee Si-young," she introduced herself, shaking your hand.

"Great. Now we're not strangers anymore!" you exclaimed.

"Isn't it exciting?" She chuckled. "Anyway, how have you been? Do you live around here?"

"Yeah, I live just a few minutes away. Do you?"

She shook her head, "No. I drove here, wanted to see what all the buzz was about. And by the taste of this," she broke off another piece of pumpkin bread, placing it in her mouth, "I see what they were saying."

You took the liberty of eating another piece too. She seemed to enjoy it with her coffee, and you hadn't touched yours yet. You took a sip, but you slightly grimaced.

She chuckled at your expression, "Not one for coffee?"

"Not really," you said, eating another piece to try and remove the light bitterness in your mouth. "I thought I might enjoy it now that I'm older, but clearly I'm still the same child."

She hummed, "You look pretty young, so I'd say you're a child."

"Okay, I'm 21." You defended.

"God, you just made me feel so old." She groaned. "I'm 35."

"35?" Your mouth gaped open, "you honestly don't look it! You're like a milf!"

"Alright, slow down." she laughed, holding her hand up at the mention of her being a milf. "You know you're not expected to age like rotten milk by 35!"

"That's true," you shrugged. "it is young. I just feel like I'm running out of time and I'm only 20, so..."

"Please," she scoffed, "your time has just started. And it's not your fault. It's pushed on women that they have to get their life together by, the latest, 25. Like you have to get married and have children, and then people get surprised when it doesn't work out."

"Yeah." You agreed sadly. "I really don't see that in my near future."

"And that's okay." she said gently, before grabbing your coffee and sliding it over to her side of the table. "If you don't mind," she'd said before taking a sip of yours too.

"I.. don't, I guess." Though it really didn't matter what you said.

"Milk and sugar," she murmured, "you really are a child."

"I heard that," you playfully glared.

"I wasn't trying to make you not hear it." She winked, and you rolled your eyes in response. With a sigh, she leaned back in her seat and looked at you, her face turning slightly serious. "So how have you been since the flight? That whole thing sorted out for you?"

"In two days? I wish." You took a deep breath. She looked at you sympathetically. "It's not sorted out at all, but... I'm trying to distract myself. I actually visited my old house yesterday."

"Oh really? How was that?"

"Bad. It's completely different." She made an 'o' shape with her mouth, not expecting that. "I just sat down and cried. It was so pathetic, the girl who lived there even came out to check on me. I'm embarrassed thinking about it."

"Don't be!" She scolded. "It's a good thing. You needed that."

"I guess. The woman was sweet too, she told me to take up a hobby or something to put my pain in."

"That's good advice. Have you found that?"

"There's a guitar in my room," you mentioned, "I'll probably practice that more. I didn't really have time with my job, but.. that's gone now, so."

Si-young's eyes flickered, "Oh, is that what you were crying about?"

"Kind of.." you sucked in your teeth, scared to cry in the middle of a café, "with the job, I lost the people... so that hurt. Well, hurts."

"I understand, at 20 the loss of a job feels like everything."

You huffed. You always hated the way adults made you feel like what you were experiencing was actually nothing big.

As if she could read your mind, she spoke again.

"I'm not trying to trivialize your situation, Y/n." She corrected your thoughts, "I'm only telling you that as someone who has lived fifteen more years, that it's going to be okay. But I'm not saying that you can't feel the way that you do, because you can. You will."

You bit your lip, nodding. "Sorry. Just... my parents always made me feel like–"