I knocked twice before opening the apartment door.
"Soojin?"
"In here!"
She sat at the kitchen table, textbooks spread across the surface, a highlighter in hand. The afternoon sunlight caught her face as she looked up.
"You're early," she said.
"Rehearsal doesn't start for another hour."
"Then why are you here?"
I set a bag on the counter. "Bought kimbap. Figured you hadn't eaten."
She abandoned her textbooks immediately.
We ate in comfortable silence. Three months ago, that would've felt strange. I'd spent so long hiding parts of myself that even quiet moments sometimes felt dangerous.
Now, the public knew I was an omega.
Some celebrated it. Others still questioned whether I'd deserved my spot in the finale. Management reminded me regularly that my presence complicated the group's image.
But Soojin just passed me another piece of kimbap and asked whether I'd been sleeping enough.
"Sort of," I admitted.
"That's a no."
"We've been rehearsing every day until midnight."
