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ohmygirlexchange2017-08-14 12:00 pm
[Mimi/Seunghee] Kim Jiho and Debilitating Loneliness (for laboum)
Title: Kim Jiho and Debilitating Loneliness
Written for: laboum
Rating: K+ (Swearing)
Characters/Pairings: Seungmi (and others ;-))
Word-Count: 13095
Summary: The concert band’s All-States competition is in less the two weeks and this is the first year they might actually have a shot at breaking the 9-year bronze streak they’ve had going. That is, if Jiho and Mimi will ever stop talking in the percussion section. Also, Jiho really wants a girlfriend.
Author’s Note: I’ve never written a fic before so please don’t expect much! Also JinE is so weird in this fic idk why. Also the title isn’t the best description of the fic but it’s where we’re at.
“Percussion section, can we resist the temptation to talk while the winds are tuning? I am sure they would very much appreciate it.”
The band was well used to hearing Mr. Oh half-heartedly say this phrase during seventh period concert band. In the past, the “good old days,” back when the band had won heaps of gold medals and played at national sporting events, Mr. Oh would demand complete silence throughout the entirety of rehearsal. He would command the room with poise and elegance. Or at least, that’s what he insists.
All anyone knows for certain is that the percussion section had not been silent for a complete rehearsal for at least the past two years. Honestly, asking for silence from the current percussion section for even fifteen minutes would have been a bit of a dream. Well, to suggest that the entire percussion could not keep quiet for that long might be a bit unfair. Most of the band knew by this point that when Mr. Oh asked the “percussion section” to quiet down, he really just meant “Jiho and Mimi, for the love of God, shut up.”
But, as aforementioned, asking Jiho and Mimi to stop talking was like trying to tune a piccolo: a beautiful idea on paper but just plain impossible in execution. And so, the band was forced to endure episodes like this if not every day, then on an every other day basis.
“You guys really need to learn how to cool it during class,” Seunghee said, after class.
“I feel like we’re getting better.” Jiho protested. Seunghee raised her eyebrows in response. “Okay, we’ve at least gotten better at whispering.”
Mimi nodded and pointed affirmatively at Jiho. “Much better.”
“You know, sometimes Mimi is so good at whispering, I can’t even hear her.”
“Yeah. And then I have to shout just so that Jiho can hear me. That’s the only reason you all think we’re so loud.”
Seunghee rolled her eyes. They were always like that. She loved them for it. “Did you guys see Binnie’s face when Oh interrupted the tuning, though? Whew! If looks could kill, man.” She leaned her head back against Jiho’s locker.
Now it was Jiho’s turn to roll her eyes, which she did with much relish. “Oh no, we upset the principal clarinetist. Whatever shall we do, Mimi?”
Mimi wasn’t paying attention to Jiho though, staring absentmindedly into space for a minute before saying, “Tuning’s dumb. Instruments should have good intonation pre-installed.”
They were all silent for a moment after that, until Seunghee finally responded, with a quiet, yet decisive, “No...”
Mimi narrowed her eyes and nodded sagely.
“You know, people are getting pretty serious about All-States this year. I missed a partial during the trumpet feature in movement one at the end of last rehearsal and you should have seen the look Eunwoo gave me. And I only missed it because we had just been rehearsing for 3 hours, so my chops were sore.”
“Ah yes, partials.” Mimi said.
“Hate it when my chops are sore. Really grinds the ol’ gears.” Jiho added, nodding.
“You wanna know how many notes a snare drum has? One. Guess how many partials?”
“One!” Jiho shouted. “No notes here, no sir. No dumb notes here.”
Seunghee went on as though they hadn’t spoken. “People really think we have a shot this year. We might finally break from the whole ‘bronze curse’ thing. You know, even though Oh’s trying to hide it, you can tell he’s getting excited too.”
“Note-having ass bitch.” Jiho said, after a moment’s pause.
---
Even though Jiho and Mimi may have goofed off during rehearsals, anyone who knew them well knew that they took band more seriously than anything, each in their own way. Music in general, and percussion in particular, had both come easy to Mimi, the way those things sometimes do. Rhythms and tempo were natural for Mimi, something she barely even had to think about; for important performances, like All-States, Mr. Oh wouldn’t allow anyone else to play the snare parts.
For Jiho, things had been less easy. Even the most basic rudiments had eluded Jiho as she struggled to keep up with her classmates in lessons. Jiho had only gotten to where she was now through unrelenting practice over the past five years, a fact which had come to haunt her family and neighbors.
It was at Jiho’s first marching band rehearsal her freshman year where she had first met Mimi, and it was at Jiho’s first band camp that the two had become inseparable. Mimi, then a sophomore bass drummer, had immediately taken to the new drumline recruit. Soon, for better or for worse, rehearsals were filled with their antics - most of which involved tubs of frosting of various types and sizes - and banter - most of which involved arguments over Jiho’s habit of (incorrectly) correcting other members of the band despite being a rookie herself.
Jiho’s habit of posturing herself as qualified and authoritative had only softened somewhat as she became older. Her lack of humility might have been annoying if she hadn’t been completely embarrassing, a fact Mimi was, by this point, well equipped to deal with. As much as Jiho liked to try to lord over the freshman percussionists, she couldn’t distance herself from the fact that there was a small whiteboard in the back of the classroom tallying the number of times Jiho had dropped a cymbal or stick during rehearsal (they were up to 5 this year for cymbal drops; the exact number of times she had dropped a stick could not be calculated but the current estimate was somewhere around 53 times).
Mimi actually found Jiho’s confidence charming in a way, although she would probably never say it to Jiho’s face, but only because she knew Jiho would shy away from such a sentimental confession. In some ways, Jiho and Mimi couldn’t be more different, Jiho enterprising and headstrong, Mimi mild and generally unconcerned. They got along because, not in spite, of those differences though, with Jiho spurring Mimi to action when she needed it and Mimi placating Jiho when she got just a little too hot-headed. And it certainly helped that they both shared the same sardonic sense of humor.
---
“Alright guys, good run. I’ll let you go a couple minutes early here but before I do, allow me to remind all of you that there are only nine class days left until All-States” Mr. Oh tapped the countdown on the wipe-board. “We’re all going to need to practice every day if we want to do well this year, guys. Remember, we can’t take any steps backward. We ended here today,” Mr. Oh held up his hand to indicate to his students exactly where “here” was. “And tomorrow, we need to be here.” He raised his hand, presumably to correspond to just how much the band all needed to improve by the end of tomorrow’s class. “Keep those things in mind.” He paused, as if for effect.
“God, he’s pausing for effect.” Jiho whispered to Mimi.
“Well, that’s all I have. You may all be dis-”
“Oh wait, excuse me, Mr. Oh?” Shiah raised her hand. “Could I make a little announcement about the spring musical?”
“Oh God, she’s been waiting to make this announcement all rehearsal, you can just feel it,” Jiho muttered. Shiah made herself an easy target for Jiho and Mimi’s snark. She was almost criminally sincere and this was not the first time she had asked to make an announcement to the entire class.
Mimi smiled and nodded her head. “This time it’s okay, though. The musical’s not gonna suck this time, because those are my sets they’re gonna be using.”
Jiho shook her head. “Ridiculous. You can’t selectively shame theater kids. It’s a year-round job.”
Mr. Oh motioned Shiah to continue with a vague wave of his hand.
“So I know we’re all busy working hard preparing for All-States.”
“That feels like hyperbole,” Jiho whispered.
“Busy? Yes. Working hard? Suspect.” Mimi said.
“But all of us in the drama program have been working really hard on our production of Into the Woods, including - well, especially those of us who are also in band!”
Jiho shook her head. “Damn traitors.” She turned to Mimi, still shaking her head. “Damn traitor.”
“The show opens next weekend, and I’m playing the baker’s wife on Friday and Sunday. Seunghee’s also playing the baker’s wife on the other nights, so I guess you’ll all just have to come both nights to support us!” Shiah smiled. “Oh! And I almost forgot, Mihyun designed all the sets too, and they are just amazing, so please come out and support our program; it would mean so much to us!”
“Who is Mihyun. I’ve never known a Mihyun.” Jiho said.
Kim “Mimi” Mihyun mimed taking a drag of a cigarette and said in a gravelly voice, “Mihyun. I haven’t heard that name in years.”
Mr. Oh took the podium again. “Alright guys, remember what I’ve told you. You may all be dismissed.”
“You think he’ll ever get new material?” Mimi asked, gathering up her sheet music into her folder.
“What do you mean? That impassioned display of elocution has led this band to nine consecutive bronze medals. Changing his speech would be a crime.” Jiho responded, patting Mimi on the shoulder.
“I just feel like he’s mailing it in is all. He hasn’t got any fire in his delivery.” Mimi finished stuffing her sticks in her bag and slung her backpack over her shoulders.
“What are you gonna do, Mimi. His glory days are over. He’s a shell of a man. And it’s all our fault.”
“I don’t see how that checks out.” Mimi and Jiho made a stop at Jiho’s locker, and it wasn’t long before Seunghee made her way over to join them, with Hyejin, the band’s lone bassoon player and resident badboy, in tow.
“Hey Seunghee,” Mimi started. “What do you think is more responsible for Oh’s...loss of passion for the band and...life...in general, me and Jiho or-”
“You and Jiho.”
“Wow, cruel. Hyejin, help me out, please,” Mimi said pleadingly
Hyejin narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “What was the second option.”
“I was just going to say the inevitable wear and tear that 45-ish - we still have yet to get confirmation on that number - years of life has on a person, plus the soul-crushing indifference of modern society.”
Hyejin closed her eyes, deep in contemplation for a moment, then opened them. “It’s definitely you and Jiho.”
---
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea.”
They had been hanging out at Seunghee’s house, trying, in vain, to make salmon. Washing machine salmon to be exact.
“I know this isn’t a good idea.” Hyojung said, continuing to help them anyway.
“No no, trust me. I heard about it on that Worst Cooks show.” Mimi said. It had been her idea to begin with and although Seunghee, Jiho, and Hyojung had tried to talk her out of it, they had all ended up here anyway, wrapping salmon in aluminum foil.
“Shouldn’t the fact that this was on a show about bad cooks deter us from doing this?” Seunghee asked, exasperated.
But they kept making it anyway. Mimi’s food experiments were a staple of Friday nights at Seunghee’s place. So was Hyojung, the only one of them who could actually cook. She was typically able to guide them through some of their more ambitious projects, like last week’s “Slutty Brownies” (“That’s just plain sexist,” Jiho had objected), and away from their more misguided projects, like when Mimi had tried to suggest that cooking brownies at 500 degrees would be faster than cooking them at the prescribed 350.
But even Hyojung was at a loss for this one. When the salmon was finally taken out of the washing machine, it was basically just soggy and warm. Mimi griped about how Jiho had neglected to seal the ends of the foil properly and Jiho vehemently defended herself in response. Seunghee soberly pointed out, after looking up the recipe online again, that it was actually dishwasher salmon and not washing machine salmon and that this wasn’t really Mimi’s fault, but all of theirs, for trusting Mimi. In the end, they ordered pizza.
The conversation lilted lazily from one subject to the next, as it tends to do with people who spend nearly every waking moment with each other. Mimi and Seunghee complained to Hyojung about the college application process they were both about to embark on, Jiho tried, unsuccessfully to start an argument about what the best root beer brand was (Barq by her count). Eventually, the conversation naturally drifted to band, as it tends to do with people in band.
“Frankly, I need my band gossip. Tensions are running high. All-States are approaching. College acceptances are being released. Spring musical. Someone’s going to break soon. And when they do, I am going to watch. I am going to spectate so hard.” Jiho wasn’t subtle.
“Yikes, people do seemed stressed out...You guys know Shiah, the french horn player?” Hyojung asked.
“No, doesn’t quite ring any bells,” Jiho said mockingly, pretending to think.
“Shiah’s in my history class. She once asked if Antarctica had ever had a revolution,” Mimi deadpanned.
Seunghee pretended Jiho and Mimi hadn’t spoken. “What’s up with Shiah? I never hear any gossip about her.”
“Well, she told me that between Into the Woods and band, she’s been so stressed out.”
The others waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. Hyojung was bad at gossiping.
“Okay.” Jiho said. “Wel-”
“Oh sorry I forgot! She said she found a gray hair, and she thinks it’s due to the stress.” Hyojung was also forgetful. And, again, the worst when it came to gossiping.
Not that the others were much better. They often loved to say that band kids had the most drama, but really they were always just rehashing the same three good stories they had. There was the time the entire saxophone section skipped rehearsal and somehow managed to gaslight Mr. Oh into believe that they had, in fact, been at rehearsal. There was, of course, all the illicit goings-on on the Nationals trip two years ago. And then there was the one about the marching band staff member who had quit halfway through a rehearsal, cursing out the other staff on his way out - of course, none of them had actually been in band when this allegedly happened, as it had been some ten years, but Mimi had heard the story from a senior her rookie year, as it had been passed down like an ancient relic among the band for generations.
“Right, but what about something new. Like, Mr. Oh has been pulling his hair out even more than normal. Something is going to happen. I feel it in my bones.” Jiho clenched her fist. “I want to see blood.”
Seunghee yawned. “Yeah, I don’t know about that. But you know Mimi? Like, the other Mimi? Jung Mimi.”
“That imposter…”
“Yeah, that one. Nayoung got fed up with her goofing off with the other trombones and volunteered them all to clean the band room for the next month.”
“Yikes. Glad she’s not my section leader. The worst thing Mimi’s made us do is clean up after ourselves and even that was almost too much for my fragile constitution.” Jiho mock-fainted against Seunghee’s couch.
“I really just make the trumpets do laps when they’re getting on my nerves.” Seunghee said.
“Using your track experience for evil…”
“Hey, it builds lung support. I’m not just making them suffer for no reason. Anyway, what about you, Hyojung? What’s the worst punishment you’ve ever given someone in your section?”
Hyojung paused thoughtfully and squinted her eyes in concentration. “I don’t know; I mean, no one in the flute section really misbehaves…”
“Come on, no sanitizing here, Choi. Spill it.”
“No really. I mean, there’s the standard high school drama that crops up from time to time. But, if we’re having issues, personal or musical, I just call for a sectional.”
Jiho nodded, dissatisfied. “Are they brutal? You make ‘em sorry they ever missed that high G sharp partial or whatever, don’t you?”
“I just go through the music, phrase by phrase. Slow it down with a metronome at the tricky parts. Go through the intonation. Have everyone play individually, standard stuff, really.”
Seunghee grimaced. “That actually sounds brutal. If we make it through a piece together without ending up on different pages, the trumpet sectional is over as far as I’m concerned.”
“My way might be long but it gets the job done. And then I do team-building stuff, of course! Band is a family, right?” Hyojung could be almost too wholesome at times.
“Hey, how’s Yewon doing, by the way?” Jiho looked up from her phone for a second.
At the mention of Yewon, Hyojung lit up right away. “Yewon is doing great! She’s miles ahead of the other freshman, to be honest. She helps out the other freshman who are struggling too.”
“Word.” Jiho went back to scrolling through her phone.
Mimi reached across Jiho to grab a bag of chips. “Honestly, why isn’t Yewon here right now? What a queen.”
“Yeah, why isn’t Yewon here, hmm Seunghee?” Jiho shook her head.
“How is this on me? I don’t even know Yewon that well!”
Mimi flopped her head back against the couch. “Yewon would have stopped us from putting the salmon in the washing machine.”
“Yeah, Seunghee.”
“How has everything become my fault?”
“It would be great if Yewon were here…” Hyojung mused.
“Why am I made a pariah in my own home?”
---
“Kim Jiho!”
It was Monday morning. Jiho and Mimi were at Jiho’s locker again, and Binnie was making her way right toward them.
“Oh God.” Jiho groaned.
“Should I leave? Or should I just accept death with you right now?” Mimi asked.
“You’re a good friend. I’d be honored to die with you.”
Of course Binnie had to walk up to them just as Jiho was finishing that sentence. Jiho already knew what this was about. It was about the English project they had been partnered up for that she had failed to make any progress on. It had to be. Or it was about their “rehearsal etiquette.” It had to be. Or it was about the time last week where Jiho had (accidentally!) knocked Binnie’s clarinet case with her clarinet inside out of its cubby in the band locker and onto the floor. It had to be one of those things. She just knew it.
Turned out, it was about all three and then some. Binnie started her little lecture with “You are one of the most exasperating individuals I have ever met,” which was maybe not the worst way Jiho had been greeted, but it was certainly in the bottom five.
She then launched into a tirade about Jiho’s insufficient progress on the project and her lack of responsibility in general. It was humiliating, even if Jiho tuned her out halfway through.
“You know, this feels like a person conversation, and since I am, on my best days, a rock golem, I should probably go, but I’ll catch you guys later. Hey, great job with that solo in the ballad by the way Binnie.” Mimi tried to inch away as carefully as she could.
“Oh no. This involves you too.” Binnie stopped Mimi in her tracks with the sheer force of her speech alone. “When are you two going to quit goofing off during every single rehearsal?”
This brought the lecture to Part 2. To be honest, this part was mostly just Binnie invoking the “honor of the program” as a way to shame Jiho and Mimi for enjoying themselves. It got a little preachy, not her best work. Except for the line, “When are you going to decide to care?” That one struck a nerve with Jiho. She had a hard time focusing on what Binnie was saying for Part 3 after that.
Part 3 was basically just miscellaneous. Tardiness, laziness, the time Jiho was playing with her pen and accidentally launched it halfway across their English classroom, hitting their teacher in the chest. And, of course, the whole almost breaking Binnie’s clarinet thing. Mimi really didn’t need to be there for this part of the speech either, but by this point Binnie had gotten herself so worked up that Mimi was too afraid to leave.
“It’s like you were put on this Earth for the express purpose of terrorizing me!” Binnie was sweating now. Like, actually sweating. She sighed and looked up. Maybe it was a plea for help. Jiho considered saying “God can’t help you now,” but thought better of it. Binnie probably wouldn’t have found that funny even if she weren’t all worked up like this.
Instead, Jiho finally settled on saying, “I mean, I don’t think the express purpose of anything I do is to terrorize you. It’s just like…” she struggled to explain herself.
“Collateral damage.” Mimi chimed in, trying to help, ostensibly.
“Collateral damage.” Jiho went with it. This was a new situation for her.
Binnie rolled her eyes, muttered “percussionists,” and walked off.
“I’ll finish the project before Thursday, I promise!” Jiho called after her. She was dumbstruck. Confrontation was fun to imagine, different to experience firsthand. “What was that supposed to mean?”
“What?” said Mimi
“Percussionists. Why’d she say it like that?”
“I think she was being derogatory toward us, and percussionists in general.”
Jiho nodded with her eyes closed, a perfect image of sage wisdom. “I think she was suggesting that we were acting like stereotypical percussionists and that to be like a percussionist, at least stereotypically, is a bad thing.”
Mimi paused for a moment. “You know, that’s like, exactly what I said but longer and in different words. Man, she’s scary though.”
Jiho stared down the hall the way Binnie had gone, even though she had long since turned the corner. “You got that right.”
This is when Jiho started to brew her terrible idea.
---
“I don’t know, man.”
“No, I’m serious. We’ve had this whole Sam and Diane thing going since freshman year. You know? Like, the bickering, the competition. It’s every love story you’ve ever heard. Two people being mean to each other to cover for the feelings brewing beneath the surface. It’s - it’s classic. It makes so much sense.”
Mimi said nothing for a moment. And then, “Was that a Cheers reference?”
“Did you stop listening after the Cheers reference?”
“I’m not going to say yes, but I would advise you to not rule out the possibility that I tuned out after the Cheers reference.”
“Alright, everyone, let’s take it from rehearsal marker B! Full band this time,” Mr. Oh announced to the class.
“Shit, is that me?” Jiho flipped back in her music frantically
“No, you’re all good. They’re just going up to C and you come in on D.”
“Thanks, I keep getting the parts in this piece mixed up” Jiho sighed. “Look. I’m just saying that Binnie and I have had this...thing going for a while. you know, this whole ‘love-hate relationship’ thing. And I-I am just going to talk to her after rehearsal and tell her, ‘I’m ready to turn this love-hate relationship into a love-love relationship.’”
“Ugh.”
“What. Was that bad?”
“Sorry that just, sort of, came out of me, reflexively. I had no control over it. And yes, one of the worst I’ve ever heard, even if it was a joke. I just don’t know if this is such a good idea, man.”
“What do you mean. Like, what specifically is not good about it?”
“I mean, most to all of it.”
Jiho stared back at Mimi and after a few seconds it became clear that she was not going to respond until Mimi offered up more. Mimi exhaled loudly, pursed her lips and tried her best. “I just think that maybe Binnie isn’t mean to you because she’s trying to hide her true feelings for you. I think that maybe Binnie is mean to you because she doesn’t like you that much.”
“Impossible. She does often seem annoyed by me, I will give you that. And yes, she sometimes takes out her anger on me, but that is our dynamic. She is the exasperated, no-nonsense business woman, and I am the fun-loving, sarcastic playboy who opens up her fun side as she discovers my heart of gold.”
Mimi blinked. “Where do I fit in in this fantasy?”
“Well you’re supposed to be my wingman slash best friend slash blood brother, but currently you are the faithless naysayer.”
Mimi nodded. “Well, can’t argue with that logic. I’m just saying, maybe think it over, before you...you know, take action. Like really think it over.”
“You are being ridiculous.” Jiho was started to talk loud and fast, the way she tended to when she was in an argument. “This is a perfect plan and it’ll finally help me get past my crippling solitude. I mean, I’m already a sophomore and I’ve never dated anyone-”
“Quiet in back! Thank you, Ms. Jiho.” Jiho sighed and looked forward again, embarrassed. She glanced over at the clarinet section and caught the eye of Binnie, who raised her eyebrows and turned back around.
“I’m just saying,” Mimi whispered. “Think it over.”
But Jiho wouldn’t let it go until she got an answer she was satisfied with, so after rehearsal, as Jiho was putting her books away in her locker, she decided to explain the situation to Seunghee to see what she would come up with.
“Huh.” That was all Seunghee came up with. But Jiho and Mimi just continued to stare at her expectantly, so Seunghee finally offered up, “I don’t know...if I really see that.”
“Oh, come on.” Jiho rolled her eyes. “This is absolutely ridiculous! How do you guys not see this? We’re perfect for each other. It’s...it’s classic. She is the Leia to my Han Solo, the Jerry to my Tom.”
“Why do you keep casting yourself in the objectively less likeable role?” Mimi asked, yawning.
“And I didn’t even think you liked Binnie. Like, at all.”
Jiho was basically pacing at this point, stupefied by this asinine line of questioning. “I am just...stupefied by this asinine line of questioning! Of course I like her. Were you not listening? We fight constantly, we’re polar opposites, how could I not like her?”
Seunghee blinked and blew out through her lips softly. “Yeah, that’s where you lose me in all of this.”
Mimi nodded and pointed at Seunghee affirmingly.
Jiho sighed, completely exasperated by this point. “You guys just don’t get it. But I’m not going to be deterred. You can mark my words, there. This relationship is destined to be.”
And so, even in the lack of an answer she was satisfied with, Jiho resolved to not let the whole situation go, no matter what.
---
Mimi wouldn’t have minded drama rehearsals being so long if there was actually anything for her to do.
Musical rehearsals started right after band rehearsal. Actually, they started in the middle of band rehearsal, but Mr. Oh would be damned if he was going to yield any of his precious rehearsal time to Mr. Son. Normally this wouldn’t have been too much of a problem, but this year Mr. Son had wisely chosen two band kids to play the leads, which meant that he extended rehearsals until 10, sometimes 11 at night.
For Seunghee and Shiah, the aforementioned band-kid-musical-lead hybrids, this meant two long, intense rehearsals back to back, where they needed to constantly be pulling their weight and paying attention. For Mimi, a sleepy drummer turned sleepy theater technician, this meant trying to take naps backstage in between set changes.
She hadn’t really anticipated joining the musical at all. She found most of the drama kids exhausting, most likely because they spent a lot of time talking about drama and she was first and foremost a band kid. She didn’t have time to talk about which Les Mis cast she liked best and why the movie versions of musicals were so bad.
But it wasn’t so bad. At least Seunghee was there. She was the one who had “coerced” (that was how Seunghee herself put it; Mimi preferred “wrangled”) her into helping out with the musical in the first place.
Over the course of rehearsing for the musical, Mimi developed a certain new-found appreciation for everything Seunghee did. She always knew her friend was talented, but seeing her juggle band, drama, and track was truly a sight to behold. She’d run, literally, right from a track meet to rehearsal, still in her sweaty uniform, rehearse a few of her scenes, then leave rehearsal to go to her trumpet lesson and come back in time for a full run of the show. And she somehow still managed to hit pretty much all of her marks. It was something else.
And even though Mimi had to spend long rehearsals backstage doing little to nothing, Seunghee made it worth it. Whenever she was backstage waiting to go on and Mimi was not sleeping, they’d find ways to make rehearsal entertaining, playing games or making up their own, new dialogue for the characters onstage.
Even though she was, Mimi knew, criminally tired between all of her activities, plus the time she managed to squeeze in for her schoolwork, Seunghee never complained. So Mimi had gotten into the habit of taking Seunghee out for fast food after late-night rehearsals, figuring she could use the extra carbs. They’d made it a game to try to order the most disgusting, greasy foods they could find, bonus points for if it was deep-fried or covered with (or full of) cheese.
When Burger King came out with the Mac-n-Cheetos, Mimi was over the moon. This had to have been the grandfather of disgusting fast food, a deep-fried cornmeal nightmare filled with nasty, nasty, beautiful cheese. Mimi had refused to tell Seunghee what they were trying that night and commanded her to keep her eyes closed until she showed her what she had bought. Seunghee was, understandably skeptical, when she saw the mini monstrosities.
“You know, this can’t be good for our blood sugar,” Seunghee mused. “Plus, we already have Food Experiment Fridays at my house with the whole gang.”
Mimi smiled. “Yeah, but this is just our thing. Plus, junior year is supposed to be the most stressful year of high school. We need to be young and reckless and...full of processed cheese before we enter into the cold abyss of adulthood.”
Seunghee laughed. Mimi always knew how to wear down her defenses. And as gross as the snacks they tried were, she always looked forward to what ridiculous thing Mimi would have them try next. They made those long days a bit more bearable.
---
On Wednesday, they were all back in Seunghee’s basement. Mimi and Seunghee were playing video games. Jiho was posted up on the couch next to Mimi, trying to critique both Mimi and Seunghee’s playing techniques simultaneously. When asked if she wanted to have a turn, Jiho, of course, refused, citing a desire to keep the matches fair.
“Sorry guys, I have to get going kind of early here.” Hyojung said.
“You never have time for us anymore.” Seunghee groaned.
Hyojung smiled. “Sorry, my work schedule’s crazy this month.”
Jiho shook her head. “It’s always work this, college applications that with you. When did you become an adult?”
“It’s like she doesn’t even care about us, anymore.” Seunghee said. “She doesn’t have time for us puny children.”
“Might as well call it quits, Hyojung. Get a 401K, start watching the Game Show Network.” Mimi chimed in.
Hyojung just smiled back. She was immune to their teasing by this point. Nothing phased her.
“Well,” Jiho grunted as she got up from her seat. “I’m supposed to go get Yewon anyway, so I’ll be a proper gentleman and walk you to your car.”
“Isn’t Yewon old enough to walk home on her own?” Mimi asked.
“Trust me, she’d just get lost. It’s happened before.”
Before Hyojung got into her car and after Jiho had successfully dodged about 15 offers from Hyojung to give her a ride to the school (“It’s a five-minute walk Hyojung, seriously.”), Hyojung brought up Yewon again.
“Hey, Jiho, could you let Yewon know that she’s doing a really great job?”
Jiho was a little surprised, but smiled nonetheless. “Oh yeah, of course. Glad to hear it.”
Hyojung was beaming by this point. “She’s just - I haven’t known a rookie who picks up on stuff as quickly as she does. She’s such a great addition to the flute section. She really works so hard and cares about her work so much; it makes sense, considering she’s known you for so long.”
As cynical as Jiho could be, even she had to admit Hyojung had a knack for making someone feel good about themselves. Hyojung was always kind like that, honest, but always with a certain tact or sensitivity.
“Hyojung…” Jiho started. “You know Binnie?”
“Yeah! Not super well, but I’ve done sectionals with her and the clarinets from time to time.”
“What…” Jiho hesitated. “What do you think her opinion of me is?”
Hyojung inhaled and looked up, deep in thought. “Ummm... “ She groped, rather unsuccessfully it seemed, to find quite the right words. Finally, she settled on, “You know, I think, ‘Different strokes for different folks,’ right? I think the two of you have very different strengths and-” she was really struggling here, “charms, right? So, you know, it’s-”
Jiho couldn’t take it anymore, “Okay!” she said, trying a little too hard to sound chipper. “It’s, you know, I got it. Thank you for your very honest and, ah, helpful answer. I will bear that in mind.”
On the walk to the school, Jiho mulled over her options in her mind. Sure, Mimi and Seunghee and now Hyojung had disagreed with her about Binnie, but did that really matter? Jiho felt confident enough in her assessment. She knew Binnie better than they did, and she knew Binnie’s relationship with her better than they did. It was a classic love-hate relationship! It had to work. It was textbook courtship, Romance 101, it was her destiny. And besides, she was already a sophomore and had yet to have her first relationship. It was about time.
By the time she arrived at the school, she had completely made up her mind. It was a matter of pride. It was a matter of dignity. And also love. But mostly the first two things. Nothing was going to get in her way now. Nobody could talk her out of it, not even Yewon.
“Yewon, I am going to ask out Binnie tomorrow.”
Yewon was taken aback by the sudden outburst, and it certainly didn’t help when Jiho then interjected, “Oh yeah, also, Hyojung says you’re doing a great job.”
Yewon smirked, still confused. “Oh! Well, okay then. Thank you, Hyojung, wherever you may be. And, uh, I wish you the best of luck, my friend.”
Jiho nodded, staring straight ahead. “Be honest. How do you think it’s going to go?”
“What?”
“Asking out Binnie. How do you think she’ll respond.”
“Honestly? I didn’t even think you knew Binnie that well, plus I thought you hated her, and she definitely doesn’t seem to like you that much. I mean, you should see some of the looks on her face when Mr. Oh is talking to the percussion section; they’re brutal. So...probably awful.”
“Okay.”
“But like, go off. Who am I to say no to what you desire?”
Jiho nodded. Her face was serious, almost defiant, as if to say “Yeah Yewon, who are you to say no to what I desire?”
Yewon exhaled, clicking her tongue in a vain attempt to make the situation less awkward for her.
“But it’ll probably go terribly…”
---
And it did. To be fair, Jiho’s plan to ask Binnie out was certainly not the worst idea she had ever come up with; it actually may have even been one of her better ideas. And it started with what Jiho thought would be the ultimate romantic gesture that she could do for Binnie: completing the schoolwork that she was expected to do in the first place.
When Jiho actually sat down to do her part of their English project, it didn’t take her half as long as she anticipated. She barely knew why she had spent all those hours procrastinating! Besides the facts that writing was hard, studying literature was pointless, and death was inevitable. By the time she finally finished her last powerpoint slide about the use of symbolism in Hamlet she felt just about ready to collapse and take a three month sabbatical from society.
But she had work to do. Flirty, romantic-type work. This involved putting on a denim jacket, walking back to the high school, and waiting outside the band room for Binnie’s clarinet lesson to finish.
The project had really taken a lot shorter than she had expected though, which meant that Jiho had over an hour to kill just waiting outside the door, sitting on the floor and rehearsing what she was going to say. When Binnie finally left her lesson, Jiho was so startled that she jumped. So, not a great start.
“Kim Jiho,” was all Binnie said in acknowledgment.
“Hey!” Jiho’s voice came out higher than she expected, as well as a bit raspy. She cleared and throat and tried again with a deeper voice, trying to seem friendly - and flirty - nonetheless. “Hey! Binnie, I’ve got something to show you.”
Binnie’s face was one of caution, but not outright suspicion, which meant Jiho was already doing pretty good by her own standards. And when she showed Binnie the project on her phone, Binnie was overjoyed, or at least as overjoyed as she seemed to get.
“Geez, this is actually really good work. That’s great, one less thing to worry about. Thanks, Jiho.”
“Yeah, well.” Time to go in for the kill. It was charisma o’clock. Jiho rolled her shoulders back and slowly pushed her hand through her hair. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you actually. I know we’ve had this sort of thing going for a while now.”
Binnie’s expression hardened. “What thing.”
“This...cat and mouse thing.”
Binnie shrugged. “That’s one way to put it.”
Jiho was trying to maintain her confidence at this point. “Right, and uh, I feel like we should turn this into a real thing.” She was losing it; this was not what she had rehearsed. All the smooth, charming things she had planned to say were out the window. She needed to recover fast; Binnie was looking worried. “I’d like to go out on a date with you.” Okay, definitely faltered in the middle there, but still, stuck the landing. Jiho regained her composure and looked, confidently she hoped, into Binnie’s eyes.
“Oh!” Binnie looked completely surprised. “Oh, uh, no...thank you.”
Binnie pretty much just turned around and left after that without giving Jiho a chance to respond which, for Jiho’s sake, was probably a good thing.
---
Mimi was expecting Jiho to be upset the next day, but she wasn’t expecting quite so much anger.
“It’s just ridiculous. She’s ridiculous. How could she say no?”
Mr. Oh had called for a “winds only” day, sending the percussion section out into the hall. With only four days left until All-States, the percussionists were all diligently working through each movement as a group, running whole chunks on repeat. But thankfully, playing percussion did not prevent one from talking, and Jiho’s problems were far too important to be silenced, even at a time like this.
Mimi tried her best to comfort her. “I’m sorry, Jiho. It sucks to get rejected your first time asking someone out, but it just wasn’t meant to be.” She really should have known that Jiho could not be consoled in a normal way and that she was only going to respond to the situation by taking an even more drastic, dramatic action.
“She’ll pay for this, you wait and see. I did that project for her so well. And then she just, rejected me. No reason. She had no gratitude toward me at all.”
“Isn’t that kind of, like, ‘nice guy’ ideology there? Like Binnie doesn’t owe you anything just because you did the school project you were assigned to do, even if you did it well specifically to impress her. Also, do you still have to present that project with her?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me of that. We did it second period. It was agony. She was so cold, barely even looking at me, speaking only to the class. It was as if I wasn’t there.”
“Seems about right. Well, hey, nothing gained, nothing lost right?” This was all kind of uncharted territory for Mimi in terms of dealing with Jiho, and she wasn’t sure that her usual mockery was really appropriate here. It felt weird, being genuinely nice to her friend.
But Jiho was exhibiting an unusual level of stubbornness and fury, even for her. “Uh-uh. I’m not letting Binnie win like this. I’ll find a better girlfriend, a hotter girlfriend, one who doesn’t treat me like I’m a disappointment.”
“Binnie was never your girlfriend, but yeah. Generally it’s better to date someone who doesn’t treat you like a disappointment.” Mimi wasn’t used to having to be the rational one in their conversations. She hated it. She felt like Seunghee.
The conversation continued, pretty much exactly like that, through even the end of class, all the way out to Jiho’s locker.
“Well, aren’t you worried about your lack of prospects? Aren’t you worried about being single forever?”
Mimi leaned back and put her arms behind her head. “Actually, you know that me and Yewon have already gone on a couple of dates? It’s starting to get kinda serious.”
Jiho said nothing, but gave Mimi a look that was a mixture of confusion and pure, white-hot rage.
Mimi sighed and threw her hands down in defeat. “Okay apparently we’re not joking about anything still. Relax, I’m not dating Yewon, I just thought it might be funny.”
Jiho flashed Mimi a deadly look. “That’s my little sister you’re talking about.”
“I mean, she’s really not, but okay. I wouldn’t ask Yewon out though. Not because of you, I’m just pretty sure she and Hyojung have a thing going.”
“Wait, wha-”
“Oh! Here’s Seunghee! And Hyejin! Thank God, save me from this conversation.”
Seunghee laughed, “What were you guys talking about?”
Mimi wasn’t letting herself get caught in that trap. “Nothing! Anything! Change the subject, how was rehearsal?”
Seunghee and Hyejin exchanged a look and then Hyejin answered for the both of them. “We are going to rock All-States. How’s percussion holding up?”
Mimi was being uncharacteristically enthusiastic, talking a little too animatedly and too fast, but after being freed from the oppression of discussing Jiho’s love-life, this conversation was a breath of fresh air. “You know, great actually. People are so critical of the percussion section for talking all the time and, you know, we talk just as much during sectionals.” she turned to Jiho, hoping she would laugh, but no laugh came, so she just kept forging ahead. “But, you know, we’re really getting stuff down. The mallets sound great, we’re all really in sync with each other. Even the auxiliary parts sound great, right Jiho?”
Jiho nodded, stone-faced. “We are going to rock All-States.”
Hyejin gave a small smile. “Amen. And you don’t have to tell me twice about those auxiliary parts. That triangle part you have in two is legendary, Kim.”
Jiho smiled a little at that. She wasn’t being any less weird, but at least she was engaged in the conversation. Mimi could take some comfort in that.
“Anyway,” Hyejin continued. “I’ll catch all of you guys later. Hey, the musical opens tonight right? Good luck to both of you guys. I’m going Friday, so I guess I won’t see you Seunghee, but I’m sure you’ll crush it.”
Seunghee smiled. “Thanks, Hyejin. Actually, believe it or not, I already have to start getting into hair and makeup, so I’ll see you guys later. Hey Jiho, are you coming tonight?”
“Nah, but I’ll be there Saturday. Break a leg!”
Mimi was eager to get out of there as soon as possible and jumped at the chance to escape to the drama room with Seunghee. If she had stayed, she might have been able to stop Jiho from hatching her second terrible idea.
---
She told Mimi about it with great relish, in the back of the band room again, on Friday.
“Do you even know Hyejin, though?”
“Of course I do. We had that great conversation yesterday. She said she liked the triangle part.”
“Jiho…”
“And she calls me Kim. She’s got a nickname for me.”
“Why does she call you that? That’s my last name too. It’s a super common last name. It’s an awful nickname”
“She’s perfect. She’s exactly what I’m looking for. Hot, doesn’t think I’m a disappointment, far superior to Binnie. You can’t talk me out of it this time.”
Mimi sighed. “You know, I didn’t manage to talk you out of it last time, but I’m going to try again anyway. She’s a woodwind.”
“So what?”
“I’m just saying, they stick together, those woodwinds.”
“Hyojung and Yewon both play woodwind instruments.”
“Yeah but flutes are different. It’s...the reeds that are the problem.”
Mr. Oh shot them a look but said nothing. He didn’t have to, though. This was their second to last class before All-States and the tension in the room was palpable. Nobody wanted to try to cross Oh. He was the most stressed out anyone had ever seen him before All-States, and everyone knew it was because this was the most hopeful he had been in a long time about how they would do. His one look shut Mimi and Jiho up for the rest of class.
After class, however, they resumed their conversation, both of them with greater intensity. Mimi was the first to make her case, using only facts and logic. “Look, Jiho. look at her right now.”
Hyejin was talking to Binnie as she took apart her bassoon, laughing even. Jiho muttered, “fraternizing with the enemy.”
“You know? Then maybe you should reconsider. You know what they say: the friend of my enemy-”
“Is the perfect person with which to destroy my enemy.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s not how I heard it. Jiho, seriously, I don’t really know the rules of revenge-dating but I’m pretty that’s because it’s a thing which doesn’t exist and should not exist.”
But Jiho had that look in her eye, the one that said: “Fuck off, Mimi, I know what I’m doing,” which Jiho then proceeded to confirm by expressing verbally.
Mimi sighed. Jiho was hopeless. She had that look in her eye which said that she wasn’t going to listen to anyone.
Jiho hung back outside the band room, waiting for Hyejin to leave - without Binnie - so she could corner her. Hyejin was unphased when Jiho approached her, and she was even more unphased by what Jiho said next.
“Hyejin! It’s good to see you. I have something important to say.”
Hyejin smiled. “I’d love to hear it, Kim.”
Jiho breathed in and out, centering herself. Rather than aiming for charisma this time, however, Jiho was going for a much more serious proposal. “I think we’re a lot alike, you and I. And although we don’t currently know each other that well, I think it’s important that we deepen the connection we already have. By which I mean, we should date. Each other. Together.”
It was a rough ending. But it was where Jiho was at.
Hyejin responded the way only Hyejin could. Which is to say, like a general administering an honorable discharge to one of her privates. “You know, Kim. I respect your bravery here in asking me this. In swallowing your pride and putting it all on the line. However, as I am sure you are already aware, I have a close personal relationship with Bae Yoobin, or Binnie.”
“I am willing to accept your flaws.”
“Well as of late, this relationship has transformed from one of close, personal friendship to one of a romantic nature. And for that reason, Kim, I am afraid that I will have to respectfully decline your offer.”
Jiho might have taken this news better if it hadn’t been for that bit about Binnie.
---
Mimi and Seunghee had been in the courtyard trying, in vain, to finish the college match and career aptitude tests they had been given by their advisors for over an hour now.
“Mimi. I think I’m dying. Thoughts about the future are killing me.”
“Everytime I think about my future, I lose 5 years off my life. I’m going to live until I’m negative 100.”
Seunghee sighed and rested her head on the picnic table. “Maybe I can just stay right here forever and that can be my whole future.”
Mimi put her head down too and faced Seunghee. “Can’t you get a track scholarship and not have to worry about all this stuff?”
“Yeah, coaches come to, like, every meet in the spring and try to poach - I mean, recruit kids. But I don’t want to be some student athlete.”
“But the grind never stops, Seunghee.”
“Oh yeah, of course.” Seunghee laughed and sat up. Mimi followed suit and stared wistfully at the papers in front of her.
“I’m pretty sure the only things I’m eligible for career-wise are, like, puppet operator and troll that lives under a bridge and asks passersby riddles.”
Before Seunghee could respond, they were interrupted by the sound of someone shouting “Hey, Mihyun!” and the sight of Jiho storming toward the both of them, though mainly Mimi, angrily.
For all her fury, Jiho may have shouted a bit too soon. As it took her several more seconds to get within reasonable conversational distance of her intended target. Jiho lost some of her intended effect in those several seconds. But she was still angry enough to mostly make up for it.
“Jiho, you seem upset,’ was what Mimi came up with to say in those few seconds.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me Binnie and Hyejin were a thing?”
“Oh you didn’t know that? Everyone knows that.” Seunghee said.
Mimi shifted in her seat. “I mean, they were not, to my own knowledge, ‘official’ at any step of the journey of you asking out either of them.”
“Wait, you asked out Hyejin too?”
Jiho was, by this point, fuming. Mimi put her hand on Seunghee’s shoulder to try to tell her that she wasn’t really helping the whole situation here.
“You could have stopped me from making a fool of myself in front of both of them, separately, twice!”
Mimi sucked the back of her teeth. “I told you I wasn’t sure. But, I clearly stated my opposition to both confessions when you originally brought them up to me. And I do remember saying that there was a chance that Binnie didn’t like you. And I said reed players ‘stick together!’”
Jiho was not having it. She was rarely able to be placated when she was angry, even by someone as unflinchingly calm as Mimi. “You should have realized that I wasn’t able to think rationally! I was in the throes of passion, blinded by my desire, my love.”
“Well that’s a bit…” was all Seunghee could muster up in response.
“You should have told me that there was absolutely no chance, that they both hated me and wanted me dead. You should have held me back, literally, if need be, to stop me, your best friend - or so you say - from making a fool of herself.”
Mimi looked down. “I’m sorry, Jiho. But you know I don’t deal in absolutes,” she mumbled.
“This is the big disaster right before All-States. This is the meltdown from all the pent-up tension. And it’s happened to me, its very predictor of all people. What cruel irony.” Jiho was pacing now, refusing to make eye contact with either Mimi or Seunghee.
“Is that irony?” Mimi asked, staring steadfastly at Jiho as she walked back and forth.
“I don’t know. I never actually know.” Jiho stopped pacing and met Mimi’s gaze with a cold look. “Anyway, I’m going to go be angry for the foreseeable future and come up with ways to save face in front of both Binnie and Hyejin. I’ve given Binnie such an upper hand, but I will not let her win. Also I heard that opening night was amazing, sorry for not mentioning it earlier. I’m looking forward to seeing it. See you guys tomorrow.”
“Wait! It’s Friday, are you not gonna hang out at my place?”
“I’m brooding, Seunghee! I need the night to sulk.”
With that Jiho stormed off. Mimi and Seunghee watched her go. Seunghee turned to Mimi.
“Well, she’s mad.”
Mimi sighed and smiled. “She’ll get over it. Mountains out of molehills, that one. I’ll talk to her later. You really can’t deal with her when she’s all worked up like that.” She yawned and put her head back down on the picnic table. Now it was Seunghee’s turn to mimic MImi. Seunghee pushed aside her career tests and closed her eyes, resting her head in her arms against the table.
“You know, I don’t know if you’d want to tell Jiho this, but just the other day Hyejin was telling me that she admired Jiho’s confidence...She doesn’t hate her, is what I mean.”
Mimi was tracing the carvings on the wood surface of the table, little hearts with initials in them and curse words crudely sketched. She smiled. “I’ll definitely let her know that. Thanks.”
“Mm.” Seunghee sniffed and moved her head to get more comfortable, still with her eyes closed. “And you know, bridge troll sounds like a pretty good career path to me.”
If Seunghee hadn’t had her eyes closed, she would have seen Mimi positively beam when she heard that.
---
Yewon was the second person to suffer Jiho’s wrath, this time in the form of a phone call.
“Hey, Jiho what’s up? I have a sectional in a minute so I can’t talk long-”
“I asked out Hyejin.”
“Oh. Uh, why?”
“It was a product of its time. I can’t get into it now. How do you think it went?”
“Poorly?”
“Exactly. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What.”
“Why didn’t you tell me she and Binnie were dating?! Why did you let me ask them both out?”
“Okay, you never told me about Hyejin, and I actually didn’t know they were officially dating. When did that happen?”
“And what’s this about you and Hyojung?”
“What?”
“Mimi said you guys were a thing.”
“Oh. Huh. I mean, Hyojung’s a really great section leader. We get along well...I don’t know. I like hanging out with her-”
“You are eleven.”
“I’m not-”
But Jiho hung up before she could finish.
---
Jiho remained upset for most of Saturday but still went to musical to support Seunghee. It’s hard to stay mad when one of your best friends is onstage giving the performance of her life and try as she did, Jiho was ultimately wooed out of her resentment by Seunghee’s performance.
When Mimi came over with Shiah to talk to her after the show, Jiho was ready to talk calmly again, though she did so with a certain resignation.
“Hey Jiho, how’s it hanging?”
“Oh, it’s hanging, Mimi.”
“How were my set changes on a scale from 1 to 10?”
“A solid 11 mate. You were a true hero out there.”
Mimi smirked. It was mocking time. “So, how you holding up? Two breakups in the past week, that’s gotta be rough.”
“Alright, alright. Shutup.” Jiho rolled her eyes.
“I just mean, how are dealing with the inevitable loneliness and misery you will face for the rest of your life? You must be absolutely crushed.”
Jiho was looking anywhere but Mimi’s eyes. “It’s possible that I overreacted to the situations.”
“What’s this? Who were you dating?” Shiah was confused.
Jiho shook her head. “No one, don’t worry about it.”
Mimi was trying not to laugh. “Why are you so hesitant to tell others about your romantic exploits? You were so excited to tell me about the obvious attraction between you and Hyejin. Whatever could have happened?”
“Wait, you asked out Hyejin? She’s dating Binnie though, everyone knows that.”
Mimi smiled. She was beginning to warm up to Shiah.
Jiho, on the other hand, did not smile. “You know, not ‘everyone’ knew that. Not all persons knew that, okay?”
At this point, Seunghee came over, still in full makeup and costume, with Sungyeon, that night’s Little Red Riding Hood, in tow. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Seunghee! My sweet, beautiful, talented friend. You were amazing for a second time. Also, we were just talking about how Jiho famously asked Hyejin out yesterday and was tragically rejected.”
“Hyejin? Isn’t that Binnie’s girlfriend?” Sungyeon asked.
Jiho put her head in her hands. Mimi was having a blast. “Is it? Seunghee, did you hear about this?”
Seunghee gave a small smile. “Oh, are we joking about this finally? Good it’s been ages.”
Jiho snapped her head back up at that. “It’s been one day! Also, you were fantastic and you’re a treasure who’s going to do amazing things and all that, but it’s been one day!”
“Alright, well we’re gonna head back to the drama room. See you guys! Oh, and Jiho, I’m sorry about your whole...situation right now. Hope you feel better soon!” Shiah smiled at Jiho sympathetically and took off with Sungyeon in tow.
At that, Jiho looked up, her eyes getting that awful look in them again. She turned to Mimi. “Shiah,” she said simply.
“Jiho, no,” Mimi said firmly.
“But-”
“Jiho, no.” Seunghee put her hand gently on Jiho’s shoulder.
“You need to stop,” Mimi whispered.
---
That Monday in class, the last chance they had to run the show before the performance in the afternoon, the entire room was silent. Mr. Oh didn’t have to struggle for the attention of any member of the band, least of all Jiho and Mimi, who had instituted a strict talk-and-you-die policy over the percussion section.
When Mr. Oh gave his standard pep talk before the run, he seemed on the verge of tears. “We’ve all worked so hard this year, gang. Regardless of where that medal ends up I want you all to keep that in mind. That’s what matters, that growth from where we started to where we are now.”
It was the same stuff he said every year, but he sounded like he meant it this time.
The bus ride was equally silent. There was an atmosphere of dignity that enveloped the entire band, a certain air of pride, the likes of which the band had never known before. Jiho and Mimi only cracked a few jokes in the back of the percussion bus, out of respect.
They all huddled together, Jiho, Mimi, Seunghee, Hyojung, and Yewon, in the warm-up room. Hyojung was the most nervous of the five of them, her last All-States performance ever less than an hour away. She was, at present, staring off into space and going through flute fingerings from memory, whispering subdivisions to herself.
Seunghee was a close second in terms of nerves, though. She had put her head face down on Mimi’s shoulder and was groaning softly. “Please pray for me during the trumpet feature, friends. And if I don’t make it, it’s been nice knowing you all.”
Mimi grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her right in the eyes. “Seunghee,” she started. “Don’t suck.”
Seunghee nodded resolutely. And soon enough the five of them had started a whisper-shout chorus of “Don’t suck, don’t suck, don’t suck,” a mantra that would keep them steady until they lined up to go on stage.
While they were waiting in the wings of the stage, Mimi turned to Jiho and smiled. “We got this, kid.”
Jiho nodded. She had that characteristic fire in her eyes, only this time it said, “We are about to put on a performance worth hearing.”
---
It was at the beginning of the second movement when Mimi knew they were in trouble.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered, frantically trying to switch the snare lever back and forth. It was hopeless, she knew. The lever wouldn’t budge. The snares were not going to turn back on.
Mimi looked around for a sign of help. Only a couple of the percussionists had parts during the ballad, so she easily could have grabbed one of the freshman drummers standing idly in the wings, but she already knew they wouldn’t know how to help.
“Jiho. Jiho!” Mimi whispered. Jiho didn’t even turn her head, focusing intently on Mr. Oh’s conducting. “Jiho, come on, the triangle part isn’t even that important, listen to me!”
Still, Jiho stared straight ahead, carefully hitting the triangle once every few bars. “Don’t distract me, Mimi, what are you doing?”
“The snare’s broken.”
“What?!”
“The snare won’t turn back on!” MImi was practically hissing by this point.
Jiho said nothing at first, but Mimi could see the fear on her face. “Just give me until the rest, okay. I’ll look at it.”
A broken snare meant no snare drum, which meant no snare feature at the beginning of movement three, which also meant no snare at all for the entire march, a style of music centered completely around the snare drum, which meant the performance would be ruined which meant Mimi would have to drop out of school and most likely join a traveling band of misfits due to the irreparable shame she had brought upon her family, school, and country.
When the band finally reached the cesura, Jiho put the triangle back on its stand and moved as quickly but quietly as she could over to the snare. Like Mimi, she flicked the snare lever back and forth in vain. If Mimi hadn’t been so panicked, she might have pointed out that she had, of course, already tried that.
“Fuck,” Jiho said after bending down to look at the snares, which had become partially disconnected.
There was only one way to solve this, Mimi knew, and that was to flip the entire drum over on its stand so as to play directly on the side with the snares. But that was noisy. And to risk it during a ballad…
“Can’t we flip it over before the march?”
“He goes right from the last note into my feature…”
“Right, sorry, I’m just confused. Okay, no. Okay.” Jiho looked up at Mimi, resolute. “We can do this.”
Mimi puckered her lips and exhaled rapidly. This was always a worst case scenario moment Mimi had imagined. She never thought it would actually happen. She exhaled again, trying to center herself.
“No really, Mimi. It’ll be alright. We can do it during the trumpet feature. It’ll be the least noticeable we can be.”
Jiho and Mimi each grabbed hold of opposite ends of the drum. Jiho stared intently at Mr. Oh’s hands. “I’ll count you in for it. Trust me.”
Mimi nodded and braced herself. The trumpet feature was the most triumphant moment of the piece, the grand climax that the entire ballad was leading up to. They could get away with a little extra dissonance there, even if unintentional. If they were smooth enough, they could even make it sound like an intended effect rather than a last-minute fix.
“Okay,” Jiho whispered. “Here it comes.” The band was about to hit the crescendo. All of the horns played for this part, except for the trumpets, who would come in for their feature in mere seconds.
“Just a few more bars…” Mimi glanced away from Jiho for a second to look at Mr. Oh. She could tell from his face that things were going well. In fact, if Jiho and Mimi hadn’t been so focused on the situation at hand, they might have noticed how well the band was playing too, the woodwinds lending the necessary delicacy and expression to the piece while the low brass began to build the crescendo bit by bit, part by part. His face was practically overflowing with excitement, a rare moment for such a typically robotic man. Mimi grimaced.
“Okay, get ready now. On three.” Mimi snapped back to the drum and bent her knees in preparation. The band was really getting louder now, filling the room with its sound.
“One...Two…” Mimi held her breath. The band was now raising not just its volume but pitch too, moving up step by step, building to its inevitable zenith.
“Three!”
Years from now, Mimi would consider what followed to be the worst moment of her life. Jiho was equally mortified, but her worst moment would come in college.
The band cut out, except for Hyojung, whose delicate piccolo solo was now accompanied by the unmistakable “KKKKRRRSSSSHHHHH” of Jiho and Mimi (who had erroneously believed they would be offered the security of a loud trumpet feature) clumsily flipping over a snare drum. The trumpet feature was on the second ending, not the first. Jiho was mistaken.
Somewhere in the process of flipping over the drum, a process that took maybe three seconds but felt closer to three and a half eternities to Jiho and Mimi, Mimi made full eye contact with Mr. Oh, whose look of pride and excitement had now transformed into one of, well, murder? Maybe that wasn’t quite the right word for it but Mimi suddenly felt viscerally aware of what the phrase “if looks could kill” meant.
Jiho didn’t see Mr. Oh’s face. Instead, she saw Binnie’s. Binnie did not palpably react, as the entire band had been trained to do, but she was able to turn her head ever so slightly to glare at Jiho and Mimi, who were now standing rigid behind the drum, trying their very hardest to not exist at all.
If Jiho thought she had given her the upper hand with the whole asking-her-out-when-she-was-not-even-a-little-bit-interested-in-her-and-then-asking-out-her-girlfriend-less-than-a-week-later thing, then this was the crushing blow. Jiho was ruined, defeated.
Even still, Mr. Oh managed to keep his composure, as did the rest of the band. When the trumpet feature finally did hit, Jiho and Mimi winced uncomfortably and tried to make themselves exist even less, although they both had to come back into existence sharply when the ballad ended. Mimi sighed and tried to regain some of the feeling in her arms, which felt as though they had been deflated. She focused on Mr. Oh’s hands for the entire march, taking care not to look at his eyes and trying as hard as she could to block out everything else, reducing her internal monologue to vicious counting and subdivision in order to prevent herself from being distracted.
And somehow, the march ended. And they managed to make it through their final piece as well. The whole rest of the performance took on a certain unreality to it, like Jiho and Mimi weren’t really there. They knew, after all, that they were just ghosts by this point, already deceased in the eyes of the band.
---
After the performance had ended, Jiho and Mimi made the long, slow death march to the clinic room. Before they could enter, Mr. Oh stopped the two of them.
“After the clinic ends, you two will not leave this room before I speak to you.” His voice was low and his tone restrained, but even still, Jiho and Mimi could feel the fire that lay beneath his words and knew they in for one hell of a chewing out session after the clinic.
When they entered the clinic room, the room was silent and all eyes were on them. “Oh God,” Mimi whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Okay, look dignified. Don’t let them know we messed up.” Jiho stared straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
“We messed up,” was all Mimi could muster up in response. As Mimi made her way to the percussion section in the back of the room, she did make eye contact with Seunghee, who offered up a sympathetic expression in response.
The clinic went basically without incident. The judge who was critiquing them was generally positive, ran the band through a few exercises in expression and musicality, nothing they weren’t used to. Jiho and Mimi waited with knots in their stomachs for mention of their...improvised percussion part...but none came. Most likely, the judge had considered it a mistake that would be pointless for her to critique in a clinic. Whatever the reason, Jiho and Mimi were grateful.
The best moment of the clinic, at least by Jiho’s count, came during the critique of the march. The judge had asked the woodwinds to play their part and stopped them halfway through.
“I feel as though you’re being too staccato here. Especially, lead clarinet, your sound is really just cutting through here and it’s far too choppy. Try to give the notes more weight, more body.”
It was a small success, to be sure, but to Jiho it felt like a win.
Eventually, the clinic came to an end, bad news for Jiho and Mimi, who were both anxiously anticipating Mr. Oh’s wrath to come.
The judge thanked the band for their time and hard work once again and then said, “You know, as musicians we tend to focus on the negatives, the little things that we can nitpick to try to be better. But I do want to emphasize that you have done some really extraordinary work with this repertoire here. I hope you all continue to work hard and chase that highest quality level of music performance that you can achieve. But for now, you should all be very proud of where you are and I am very happy to award you a well-deserved silver medal.”
At that, a certain palpable hush fell over the already silent room. The silence itself took on a new kind of energy. Mr. Oh thanked the judge for her time and insights, stumbling over his words a bit, and accepted the manila envelope with their medal in it from the judge.
A silver medal. The band had not received anything higher than a bronze in almost ten years, hence the whole “bronze curse” thing. When the door closed behind the judge on her way out, the room remained silent for a moment. Mr. Oh stared straight ahead of him, mouth open, gazing directly at the manila envelope as though it were a magical object. Slowly, he looked back up at the band. A smile crept across his face, and that was when the band finally lost it.
The room erupted. That was the only way to describe it. Some people cheered, some started to cry, and still others (that is to say, the saxophone section) started chanting a repeated chorus of “Fuck yeah”’s. Mr. Oh was too happy himself, talking animatedly with the lead oboe player, to criticize anyone else’s mode of celebration.
Hyojung broke down almost immediately, four years of waiting finally paying off. Yewon patted Hyojung on the back consolingly, laughing. She pulled Hyojung into a tight hug; Yewon might not have experienced all those years of bronze medals herself, but she knew how important this was to Hyojung, how badly she had wanted this for her senior year.
Mimi just about collapsed, putting her hands on her knees and keeling over in relief. Jiho had to straighten her back out so that she could properly hug her.
“We didn’t fuck up, we didn’t fuck it up. Oh my God, Jiho, we didn’t fuck it up!”
“Oh Thank God, I didn’t fuck it up. You-oh my God, are you crying?” Jiho had never seen Mimi even tear up before and was wholly unequipped to deal with the tears streaming down her face.
In response, Mimi just grabbed Jiho’s hands and stared right into her eyes. “We did not fuck it all up, Jiho. Where’s Seunghee.” It was a statement, not a question. Mimi took off before Jiho could even respond anyway.
Seunghee was crying too, which was considerably less surprising. When Mimi made her way over to her, she was being comforted by Shiah, who was not crying but kept repeating “Oh wow, oh my God, oh wow,” over and over to herself. Seunghee lifted her head to look at Mimi and, smiling through her tears and trying to keep her voice as level as possible, said, “You didn’t fuck it up, Meme.”
Mimi grinned. “You led the trumpets like a champ, Seunggi. “She grabbed a seat from the back row and sat down next to Seunghee, awkwardly grabbing her shoulders as the two girls fell into laughter.
As Jiho made her way over to Yewon and Hyojung, she nearly collided with Binnie, who, as it turned it out, was on her way over to Hyejin, who, as it turned out, was located about 3 feet on the other side of Jiho, meaning Jiho was effectively sandwiched between the two people who had rejected her in the past week. But Jiho was too happy to worry about that and too eager to rub it in Binnie’s face.
“Binnie! How’s it going, man?! Great performance, great performance. Maybe a little too choppy here and there but still, great.” She patted Binnie on the shoulder. She had won, she was Binnie’s superior, she was the alpha.
Binnie said nothing, sighing but smiling nonetheless. Hyejin patted Jiho on the back, nodding her head with her eyes closed. “You did what you had to do man, for the good of the march, the good of the band.”
In the end, Mr. Oh never got around to speaking to Jiho and Mimi. He was too distracted by the excitement to remember to stop them on their way out, and in the end, it didn’t really matter. They had broken the curse one way or another.
---
The short bus ride back home was similarly brimming with excitement, but Jiho spent most of the time speaking emphatically to Mimi about what she proclaimed to be her newfound sense of self.
“I’m awesome, you’re awesome, we’re awesome. We saved that performance, even if we almost ruined it in the process.”
It was a lot of stuff like that. Mimi mostly just smiled and nodded, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the seat, glad all the excitement of the night was finally over.
When they finally got back to the school, Jiho was forced to confront Binnie and Hyejin once again as she put percussion equipment back in the band room.
“Hey Jiho,” Binnie called over to her. “Come here for a second, would you?”
Jiho grinned, eager to assert her dominance once more. She was really walking on air at this point. “Oh but of course, Binnie. What is it that you require of me on this evening?”
Binnie shook her head, but couldn’t help but smile; even she was too high on the events of the evening to be her usual exasperated self. She looked over to Hyejin, standing by her side, for assistance.
Hyejin smiled back at Binnie then turned to Jiho. “You got moxie, Kim.”
“You’re damned right I do.”
“Binnie and I were talking it over-”
“Wrong. Hyejin was talking and I was being spoken at and then ignored when I tried to protest-”
“And we mutually decided that we gotta hang out some time. You’ve got gumption, kid. A certain je ne sais quoi. Coffee, next Friday. You in?”
Jiho smiled. She loved it, Hyejin’s compliments, Binnie’s muted discomfort. She was basking in it. “You know, I’d love to but I actually sort of have pre-existing plans with Seunghee and Mimi on Fridays...Actually, why don’t you guys join us? I don’t technically think I have the authority to invite you to Seunghee’s house but I’d like to see her try to stop me.”
Binnie pursed her lips, then rolled her eyes. “I mean, I’d say that you should probably ask Seunghee first but honestly, I know that she’d just say yes. You really shouldn’t do that though.”
Hyejin smiled and slipped her hand into Binnie’s grasp. “Excellent. See you again, Kim Jiho.”
“Until then,” Jiho smiled and began to make her way back to the cafeteria, where the rest of the band was talking and decompressing. As the two girls were walking away, though, Jiho turned around again, unable to resist and shouted, “Hey Binnie! I heard that we coulda gotten gold if it weren’t for that clarinet just chopping the hell outta those quarter notes!”
Binne didn’t look back this time, but made sure to shoot Jiho a quick, elegant middle finger from behind her back. Jiho was satisfied with that.
Jiho was so satisfied that she walked right up to Mimi and Seunghee and declared that she “was no longer plagued by her debilitating single-ness.”
Quite the opposite, in fact, as Jiho proceeded to tell them. “I was just chasing the idea of being in a relationship, you know? Because it’s an exciting idea. But I don’t need to be dating someone right now! I have great friends, we didn’t fuck up the performance, and I’ll date someone when I meet someone I really like and connect with.”
“Wow,” Seunghee smiled. “Good for you, Jiho.”
Mimi pretended to wipe away a tear and patted Jiho on the shoulder. “You’ve come a long way, kid. You’ve done us proud.”
Jiho smiled. “Yeah, and like I said, I have top-notch friends. I mean, it’s not like you guys are dating anyone either, so what reason do I have to be so concerned with dating? Being single is fantastic. Honestly, why don’t we all just become old spinsters together.”
“Right, about that…” Mimi trailed off as Seunghee put her arm around her shoulder, kissing her on the cheek. Mimi smiled apologetically at Jiho, as she reached up to grab Seunghee’s hand.
“Okay What the Fuck.”
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(Anonymous) 2017-08-14 06:02 pm (UTC)(link)HI ITS THE PERSON YOU WROTE THIS FOR
also mimi is indeed a rock golem at her best and being a bridge troll is a rather unexplored field of employment imo I support her
overall it was just so fun and I love the band au and if I was seunghee I would have messed up the trumpet thing big time bc I suck also I guess the adjudicator understood that miho tried to problem solve under rly intense bad situation that wasnt under their control and evej though they failed the fix thing they did the rest wel so it went good. I'm proud of them also lowkey even though it was a male teacher I was imagining mr. oh as oh seunghee anyways THANK YOU YOU HAVE DONE A GREAT BEST SERVICE!!! SORRY THAT THIS COMMENT IS SO LONG!!!!! OMG BAND AU!!!!!!!
Re: HI ITS THE PERSON YOU WROTE THIS FOR
(Anonymous) 2017-08-15 01:16 am (UTC)(link)no subject
edit: omg i totally forgot to mention how much i loved jiho and mimi's friendship. they were iconic
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(Anonymous) 2017-08-15 01:15 am (UTC)(link)you are soooo funny....WASHING MACHINE SALMON THIS is so funny... i dont know what to say... except that e very line makes me laugh... love your dialogue.. n how awful jiho is.."you are eleven." it was such an easy read for being 13k :') this is such an amazing first fic i do hope you write more because i'd love to read it.
miho are the bestest friends and i love the subtle seungmi and the binho hate-hate relationship is absolutely incredible.
THE ENDING THOUGH.... holding my breath during the drop and ridiculously happy when they won omg i love miho and you are an amazing writer
it’s charisma o’clock
(Anonymous) 2017-08-16 06:37 am (UTC)(link)because i am 90 years old i am usually kinda uninterested in hs aus and i cannot relate to the band lyfe but it says a lot abt how engaging ur writing is that i got so into it.. i like that you made them busy and stressed . that's the relatable shit
i
lov e
thatyou had the terrible noise happen with the drum btw. i was walking read ing this fic on my phone and i kid you not i was slowing down and had to STOP WALKING because of the TENSION building up to that AND THEN IT WENT WRONG!!!!!!and then you implied it might be a problem and for all that it made their achivement that much sweeter :)
also the end scene? great way to end a fic, thank u