thirty-seven.
thirty-seven.
four-hundred and ninety-five words.
can't say that things will be alright; can't lie to you.
Her phone is ringing, her phone is ringing, her phone shouldn't be ringing.
"What?" Jessica answers after pulling her phone under the covers, pushing it up against her ear. She thinks that maybe she should have made an effort to hide the grouchiness in her voice, that maybe she should have checked who was calling before answering.
"Jessica?" she just barely hears, and her grouchiness disappears, her anger gone. Jessica closes her eyes again, waits for the other girl to say her name again. She doesn't have to wait long. "Jessica-" and now the tone is more anxious, more apologetic than the first time, but Jessica appreciates it all the same.
Krystal is the only one who says Jessica's name correctly, the way Jessica wants to hear it. There are no slurring of the s's and no harsh k's, no shortened nicknames of 'Jess', 'Jessi', and 'Sica'. Krystal says her name the way Jessica likes to hear it, with the right accent and the right pace.
"Soojung," Jessica responds, her voice equally soft, yet so much more confident. It's in moments like these that Jessica recognizes the difference between them, how foreign the name 'Krystal' feels when pressed against her tongue, captured in her throat.
"Soojung," Jessica says again and gives a small sigh that isn't directed towards Krystal, "Soojung, what's wrong?" And, technically, nothing has to be wrong, but because it is Krystal, and it is Krystal calling Jessica, something has to be wrong.
"Nothing," Krystal lies and Jessica rolls over onto her back, loosens her grip on her phone, keeps it a centimeter away from her ear.
"Okay," Jessica responds, because it's the only way she knows how to respond, and lets the silence speak for her. She breathes shallow breaths, wills herself not to fall asleep, and, after half an hour, Krystal says, "Jessica, I miss you." Jessica closes her eyes, and begins to hum. She hums a tune that has no meaning, just something she heard backstage, coming out of someone's cell-phone, but she hums it with enthusiasm as if it were her lullaby to Krystal. Jessica knows that Krystal isn't in bed like she is, that she's probably sitting up, elbows away from any table, supporting herself (because that's how Krystal is, independent).
Sometimes, Jessica feels like she doesn't know Krystal at all, that they couldn't possibly be related, because Krystal never says 'unni', and Jessica never says, 'sis'. Moments like these, however, remind Jessica that she does have a sister, that she does matter to someone.
"Go to sleep, Soojung," Jessica whispers when she reaches the point of not knowing the tune, and Krystal makes a small noise of affirmation.
"I love you," Krystal says, uncertain, shaky.
Jessica smiles, regrets not being there for her sister (there being anywhere Krystal needed her: backstage before a performance; outside the dorm after a recording; underneath covers after too many sleepless nights, with tightly-wound arms and warm lies offered), and responds, "Goodnight."
four-hundred and ninety-five words.
can't say that things will be alright; can't lie to you.
Her phone is ringing, her phone is ringing, her phone shouldn't be ringing.
"What?" Jessica answers after pulling her phone under the covers, pushing it up against her ear. She thinks that maybe she should have made an effort to hide the grouchiness in her voice, that maybe she should have checked who was calling before answering.
"Jessica?" she just barely hears, and her grouchiness disappears, her anger gone. Jessica closes her eyes again, waits for the other girl to say her name again. She doesn't have to wait long. "Jessica-" and now the tone is more anxious, more apologetic than the first time, but Jessica appreciates it all the same.
Krystal is the only one who says Jessica's name correctly, the way Jessica wants to hear it. There are no slurring of the s's and no harsh k's, no shortened nicknames of 'Jess', 'Jessi', and 'Sica'. Krystal says her name the way Jessica likes to hear it, with the right accent and the right pace.
"Soojung," Jessica responds, her voice equally soft, yet so much more confident. It's in moments like these that Jessica recognizes the difference between them, how foreign the name 'Krystal' feels when pressed against her tongue, captured in her throat.
"Soojung," Jessica says again and gives a small sigh that isn't directed towards Krystal, "Soojung, what's wrong?" And, technically, nothing has to be wrong, but because it is Krystal, and it is Krystal calling Jessica, something has to be wrong.
"Nothing," Krystal lies and Jessica rolls over onto her back, loosens her grip on her phone, keeps it a centimeter away from her ear.
"Okay," Jessica responds, because it's the only way she knows how to respond, and lets the silence speak for her. She breathes shallow breaths, wills herself not to fall asleep, and, after half an hour, Krystal says, "Jessica, I miss you." Jessica closes her eyes, and begins to hum. She hums a tune that has no meaning, just something she heard backstage, coming out of someone's cell-phone, but she hums it with enthusiasm as if it were her lullaby to Krystal. Jessica knows that Krystal isn't in bed like she is, that she's probably sitting up, elbows away from any table, supporting herself (because that's how Krystal is, independent).
Sometimes, Jessica feels like she doesn't know Krystal at all, that they couldn't possibly be related, because Krystal never says 'unni', and Jessica never says, 'sis'. Moments like these, however, remind Jessica that she does have a sister, that she does matter to someone.
"Go to sleep, Soojung," Jessica whispers when she reaches the point of not knowing the tune, and Krystal makes a small noise of affirmation.
"I love you," Krystal says, uncertain, shaky.
Jessica smiles, regrets not being there for her sister (there being anywhere Krystal needed her: backstage before a performance; outside the dorm after a recording; underneath covers after too many sleepless nights, with tightly-wound arms and warm lies offered), and responds, "Goodnight."