Looks Like A Real Thing

The house was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the CCTV cameras lining the hallways. Yua had installed them years ago, after someone tried to steal one of her paintings. Now, they recorded everything: every movement, every breath, as she made her way toward her office.

She closed the door behind her, the sound echoing in the stillness. For a long moment, Yua stood frozen, her heart pounding. She could feel it—the presence that had haunted her for weeks. It wasn’t visible, but she knew it was there, lurking in the shadows, watching.

Her breath hitched as she spoke into the emptiness, her voice trembling. "Not Freya. She’s not the one you want. Don’t take her from me."

The silence in the room pressed down on her, thick with dread, offering no reply.

Tears welled in Yua’s eyes, her voice breaking as she lowered her head. "She’s innocent. Don’t make her pay for my sins."

A sudden, metallic clatter interrupted the stillness. Yua's eyes snapped to the floor, where her canvas knife—used for cutting fabric—had fallen. She stared at it, her blood running cold. She knew what it meant.

This was the end.

With trembling hands, Yua knelt down and picked up the knife. It felt heavy, its weight matching the unbearable burden of what she had to do. Slowly, she rose to her feet, her gaze drifting to the window. The night outside was pitch black, a reflection of the storm raging within her.

She took a deep breath, raising the knife in both hands, the blade trembling as she pointed it toward her chest. Her eyes fluttered closed, a single tear slipping down her cheek as she whispered, "Freya... I’m sorry."

In one swift, deliberate motion, Yua plunged the knife into her chest. Pain ripped through her, stealing her breath as the blade pierced her heart. Warm blood seeped from the wound, staining her dress as her legs buckled beneath her.

She crumpled to the floor, her body trembling, life slipping away with every beat of her fading heart. She bit down hard on her lip, refusing to scream. She couldn’t bear the thought of waking Freya. She couldn’t let her daughter see her like this.

As darkness closed in around her, Yua’s thoughts lingered on Freya—her sweet, precious Freya.

Be better than me, love.

With that final thought, Yua’s eyes fluttered shut, her body going still as her last breath escaped her lips.

--- END OF PROLOGUE ---

"Miss Park, please take care of your health. Freya asks me to send you the salad and the medicine," Soyoung reads from the message sent by Freya’s personal assistant, Sarah.

She smiles slightly; even after being with Freya for so long, Sarah still speaks to her formally while referring to her employer casually.

"Thanks, Sarah. I've received the delivery. Please, just call me Soyoung. It's fine," Soyoung replies.

Shortly after, another message comes from Sarah, “Sorry, Miss Park, I can’t do that even if you ask me to. Freya orders me to speak to you politely. I don’t want to upset my employer.”

Alright then, Soyoung thinks. Maybe she needs to talk to Freya about it. Or maybe not. Sarah is right; it's better not to upset Freya. Freya wants her employees to treat Soyoung respectfully, which isn’t a bad thing. Besides, Soyoung finds it kind of cute how Freya cares about her treatment.

Soyoung opens the paper bag to take out the salad and the pack of medicine she left at home. Placing them on the table, she prepares to eat and take her medicine.

While idly chewing her salad, she scrolls through her phone, her eyes darting across the screen as she searches for Freya’s number. Once she finds it, she immediately taps the screen to dial, bringing the phone to her ear without hesitation.

After a brief pause, she hears a voice on the other end say, “Hi.”

Soyoung stops eating to reply, “I got the delivery.”

"Good," Freya replies briefly, as if she is in the middle of something. Soyoung resumes chewing, waiting for Freya to continue the conversation. She can hear people talking in serious tones, but Freya seems hesitant to respond to them. Finally, Freya asks them to wait, explaining that she is on an important call, even though it is only Soyoung.

"Did I interrupt something important?" Soyoung asks, just to be sure.

"No, it's just... the manager, they're discussing the event invitation," Freya explains, a slight worry in her tone that Soyoung can feel. "How are you?"

Ever since Soyoung got sick last week, Freya has made a noticeable effort to be home on time. Freya might not say much, but her actions speak volumes. Soyoung notices how Freya rearranges her schedule to prioritize being there for her, silently showing her concern.

“I’m going to go home and rest right after I finish the recording today, so you don’t have to worry about me. You must finish organizing the event before next week,” Soyoung assures her.

“That’s a relief,” Freya sighs audibly. “Please rest; you’re not fully recovered yet. I’ll ask Sarah to accompany you until I get home, okay?”

Soyoung nods, even though Freya can’t see her. “Alright. I will see you tonight.”

***

When the call ends, Freya's thumb hovers over the end button, her lips parting slightly, as if she wants to say something more. She bites her lip, her heart racing at the thought of saying, “Bye, I love you.” She knows that simple phrase would change everything. She looks around her new office, admiring the interior design and the art supplies neatly arranged on the shelves—each item a testament to Soyoung’s thoughtful assistance in setting up the space.

Freya puts down her phone and exhales slowly. The silent understanding between them, the way their lives fit together so naturally, and the small, unspoken gestures of love they share are enough. She smiles to herself, recalling how Soyoung always leaves a cup of coffee on the kitchen counter for her in the mornings, and how Freya always makes sure Soyoung’s favorite blanket is within reach on the couch. These moments speak more than words ever could.

Freya returns to her room to prepare invitations for her upcoming event. She sees Theodora Aubrey, her business partner, and Tom, her gallery manager, deep in discussion over the guest list. Theodora, clipboard in hand, ticks off names while Tom gestures animatedly, his voice a low murmur. Freya takes a seat, glancing at the draft list spread out on the table, and joins the conversation, ready to finalize the details.

***

Freya’s chauffeur arrives at the back door of the recording studio to pick up Soyoung. He politely takes her backpack and guides her to the nearby car. Finding a parking spot in a city as crowded as London is no easy feat, but Soyoung has grown fond of the city’s unique rhythm. Despite its reputation, London feels quieter and more serene compared to other bustling metropolises she has known.

As the car navigates through the streets, Soyoung reflects on how much she enjoys being in London. Unlike the constant hustle and bustle of America, London offers a pace that suits her better. Here, she doesn’t feel the relentless push to always be on the move. Instead, she finds pockets of tranquility amidst the urban landscape.

Though she still frequently travels to Asia and America for work and to Paris for fashion events as a brand ambassador for a luxury brand, Soyoung has spent most of the past couple of years in London with Freya. The city's character surprises her at first; the individualistic nature of people in the West is a stark contrast to what she is used to. The initial months are an adjustment period, where she often feels out of place.

But over time, Soyoung comes to appreciate the individuality that Londoners cherish. It allows her more personal space and time—time to focus on her own life, to write more than just songs. Here, she finds herself exploring new creative avenues, like writing short stories. The city’s rich history and diverse culture provide endless inspiration, and the relative anonymity it affords her is a refreshing change.

However, there is one thing she can never quite get used to—the weather. The UK's infamous gray skies and frequent rain are a far cry from the sunny climates she often finds herself in during her travels. Despite the weather, though, London has become more than just a convenience; it is a source of calm and creativity, a place where she can grow both personally and professionally. And sharing it with Freya makes it all the more special.

***

Thinking about it brings a melody to Soyoung’s mind. She quickly pulls her phone from her sweater pocket and records herself singing the nascent lyrics. As she harmonizes and sings a few words, her thoughts drift back to the day she met Freya at their friends’ wedding three years ago.

It is Soyoung who begs the bride to introduce her to Freya. She is eager to meet the infamous Freya Adler, the only daughter of Yua Yoshihara, the granddaughter of Yue Yoshihara. Months before the wedding, Soyoung scours online videos, magazines, and any other media featuring Freya, trying to learn who she is, what she is like, and what kind of person might catch her interest.

She will never forget the moment Freya walks into the wedding. Her eyes are immediately drawn to her—Freya's stunning appearance is impossible to ignore. Dressed in a striking blue dress that accentuates her tattoos, Freya exudes an elegant confidence that captivates Soyoung. No photos or videos can justify her appearance in real life. The way she carries herself, so poised and assured, is mesmerizing. Freya looks like a beautiful devil, her allure irresistible.

When the bride finally introduces them, Soyoung’s heart races. Freya’s presence is even more magnetic up close, her smile disarming. They exchange polite greetings, but Soyoung can hardly contain her excitement. The initial conversation is a blur, but she vividly remembers Freya’s deep, entrancing eyes and the way she listens intently, making Soyoung feel like the only person in the room.

Initially, Soyoung is so careful not to fall in love. That isn’t her agenda. She sees Freya as a ticket to freedom from her parents' debt to Freya's grandmother, Yue Yoshihara. But fate has other plans. Freya turns out to be different, the kind of person Soyoung has been looking for all along—someone who could be her equal.

Beneath all the beauty and fame she possesses, Soyoung struggles with issues she can’t freely talk about with anyone. Every relationship she has with women has to be kept tightly private. There are people who rely on her, her parents' debt to be paid, and a promise she has to keep. The world would not accept her if she came out.

Her most significant relationship had been with her former bandmate, Ahyeon. Their connection had been both intoxicating and destructive. The breakup had been brutal. Ahyeon, terrified that their relationship would ruin their careers, had begged Soyoung to keep their history hidden from the world. Despite her desire to live openly and authentically, Soyoung had promised to stay silent, forcing her to suppress her true self.

She tries to move on, to find love with new people, but her relationships never last. Her partners eventually leave, unable to cope with her guarded nature. They see her caution as detachment, mistaking her fear for indifference. Soyoung isn’t cold; she is simply too careful, honoring her promise to Ahyeon. This misunderstanding leads to insecurity and eventual breakups, leaving Soyoung more isolated than before.

These failed relationships only reinforce her fear to commit. She shuts her heart off, unwilling to get too close to anyone new. The fear of ending up more miserable than she already is looms large. She is terrified that the person she loves will leave her because she can’t display her affection publicly.

That’s why Freya Adler is different. Freya couldn’t care less about labels, let alone acknowledgements from strangers. Freya is not perfect, she is flawed like many other people, but Freya is exactly what Soyoung needs. With Freya, Soyoung can be herself without fear of judgment. Freya’s indifference to societal norms means that what they have behind closed doors is enough for her.

Naturally, Soyoung has doubts; if anything, what they have seems too good to be true. She recalls a day when people began questioning how Soyoung Park, the singer, is suddenly often seen with Freya Adler, the infamous artist and billionaire. Speculations arise about whether they are dating or just good friends. When a journalist asks her about it, she says what is expected: “We are no more than just best friends.” Soyoung anticipates Freya will walk away like many others. Weeks turn into months, and months into a year, but Freya never leaves. Soyoung's feelings for Freya never fade, despite her expectations.

Who would have thought that the woman she plans to use to free herself from debt would turn out to be the person she has been searching for her whole life?

***

Freya looks at her watch. It is almost 8 pm, and they have just finished arranging the invitations for the event. ‘Soyoung should be home by now,’ she thinks. She has been so focused that she forgot to call home and check on Soyoung.

“Freya, are you coming to dinner with us?” Theodora Aubrey nudges her out of her thoughts.

“Oh,” Freya checks the time again before looking at Theodora. “No, I have someone waiting for me at home. Please, go on without me.”

Theodora smiles lightly. “How is she doing?” She grabs Freya’s arm and walks with her through the office door. Theodora knows too well who Freya is referring to. It is common knowledge among close friends that Freya and Soyoung have been practically living together for the past few years. Theodora hadn’t expected them to last this long, considering Freya’s reputation and her past marriage that ended tragically. Yet Freya and Soyoung seem inseparable. Soyoung must be incredibly patient to deal with all the rumors and Freya’s stubbornness. Their friends even bet on who would declare their relationship first, Soyoung or Freya? But that moment hasn’t come yet. Both Freya and Soyoung seem reluctant to label their relationship.

“Her flu was bad, I must admit. She didn’t have the energy to get out of bed for the first few days. But she’s getting better,” Freya replies. “She needs to be,” she adds quietly, sighing deeply.

Theodora lets go of Freya’s arm and stands before her. Judging by the look in her eyes, she can tell how much Soyoung’s recovery means to Freya. “I hope she gets well very soon. I can’t wait to see her again,” Theodora says.

After a few casual exchanges, Freya and Theodora part ways. Their drivers are waiting outside. Freya gets into her car, and soon she is on her way home as the sky begins to rain.

Freya closes her eyes, exhales, and leans back against the comfortable car seat. The fatigue from organizing the event and managing her new office hits her now that she is finally done for the day. It has been like this for a year. She is still not used to business, meetings with too many people in a day, and managing the inheritance her parents left her. 

“How can they let people have this much money?” she thinks to herself. 

Every second of every day, she feels only one bad decision away from losing her mother’s legacy. If she puts the wrong person on the wrong mission, everything will be gone. Sometimes she wonders if this is how her late wife, Melissa, had felt when she was alive. It must have been exhausting, and she didn’t make it any easier. All she did back then was be an alcoholic jerk. No wonder Mel was really hurt by her.

Before the guilt sinks deeper, Freya stops herself from thinking about Mel. She opens her eyes to see where she is. She can tell by the familiar scenery outside her blurry window that her home is not far. She raises her left hand to massage her forehead and notices the ring on her finger. She is still wearing it, even after all these years.

Soyoung never says anything about it. She respects the history between Freya and her late wife; that is what makes Soyoung so special in Freya’s eyes. Soyoung is so brave, too brave, in fact.

“I asked our friend to let us meet at her wedding,” Soyoung admitted on the ninth time they met. “I always wondered what you looked like in real life.” They were on the rooftop garden in Bangkok. There were no other guests because Freya had booked the whole place just for their date.

Freya raised her eyebrows and asked nonchalantly, “And did I meet your expectations?”

Soyoung put down her fork and knife, her eyes never leaving Freya’s. She took a sip of her wine, savoring the taste as she gathered her courage. The soft glow of the candles cast a warm light over their faces, making the moment feel almost dreamlike. Slowly, she stood up from her chair and walked to Freya, her heels clicking softly against the floor, each step filled with purpose and intent.

Without warning, Soyoung gracefully lowered herself onto Freya’s lap, her sudden proximity catching Freya off guard. Freya's breath hitched, surprise widening her eyes. Soyoung’s face was now inches from Freya’s, the air between them charged with unspoken desire. She leaned in closer until their breaths mingled, her eyes searching Freya’s for any sign of hesitation.

“Tell me, Freya, how do I hold myself against you?” Soyoung whispered, her voice barely audible, filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability. She pressed her forehead against Freya’s, her lips hovering tantalizingly close, her eyes locked onto Freya’s.

Freya’s heart raced as she saw Soyoung bite her lips in desperation, the gesture both bold and tender. Freya’s hand lifted to caress Soyoung’s face, her fingers gently tracing the contours of her cheek, easing the tension that had built up between them. The touch was soft, almost reverent, as if she were afraid Soyoung might vanish if she pressed too hard.

Freya leaned in, her lips brushing against Soyoung’s ear, sending shivers down her spine. “I don’t know, Soyoung,” she whispered slowly, her voice rich with emotion. “Why don’t we enjoy it while it lasts?”

The words hung in the air, a promise and a plea wrapped in one. Soyoung closed her eyes, savoring the warmth of Freya’s breath against her skin, the tenderness of her touch. In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving just the two of them in each other’s arms.

---- END OF PILOT ----

Freya’s car pulls up to the driveway of their London townhouse, the evening air crisp and cool after the rain. She steps out, the weight of the day’s events still pressing on her shoulders. The sky is a dark canvas dotted with stars, the rain clouds having cleared just in time for her arrival. As she walks towards the front door, she feels a sense of anticipation mixed with fatigue, the damp ground beneath her feet reflecting the lights from the house.

As she enters the house, the warm air surrounds her, a stark contrast to the chill outside. The aroma of dinner wafts through the air, and she can hear the faint sound of music playing in the background.

Soyoung's voice calls out from the kitchen, “Freya is home,” followed by the sound of footsteps approaching her.

Freya has just finished taking off her shoes and removing her coat when Soyoung appears, taking the coat and her handbag from her. As soon as Freya sees Soyoung’s smile and sparkling eyes, the fatigue she has been feeling vanishes instantly.

Soyoung lands a gentle kiss on Freya’s lips. “I made some dinner,” she says softly.

Freya smiles, raising her hand to tidy Soyoung's long brown hair and gently caressing her cheek. “You should be resting,” Freya responds briefly.

A petite woman with brown hair emerges from the kitchen and waits not far from where they stand. It is Sarah, Freya's personal assistant, preparing to leave for the day.

Freya notices her assistant and says, “Why not stay for dinner?”

Soyoung turns to look at Sarah and adds, “Yes, I made enough for all of us.”

“Thank you both so much, but I’m afraid I have to decline,” Sarah says with a warm smile.

Soyoung can't hide the slight disappointment on her face. It is dinner time, but Sarah has stayed to look after her all day. “Are you sure?” she asks, her tone hopeful that Sarah might change her mind.

“Yeah, no worries. I will see you next week, alright?” Sarah replies, looking happy to see Soyoung and Freya together as usual.

Freya thanks Sarah before she leaves. It is Saturday night, but she is willing to stay a little longer until Freya gets home. Usually she would stay for dinner, but Freya guesses Sarah already has another plan for tonight.

Freya stands silently in front of the door until the car taking Sarah away drives off. Then, she closes the door and locks it.

Freya takes a quick shower in the bathroom upstairs while Soyoung is in the kitchen, finishing her preparations for dinner. Feeling better this evening, Soyoung hums the melody of a new song she recorded that afternoon. Despite her recovery, Freya insists she continue taking her medicine until it is finished, as the doctor recommended.

Soyoung sets the table for two, her thoughts filled with excitement about the weekend. She looks forward to having Freya all to herself, to spend the weekend together without any interruptions. Soyoung wants Freya to be the first to hear all the songs on her new album, a special moment she has been eagerly anticipating.

Upstairs, Freya steps out of the bathroom, droplets of water still clinging to her skin. She sees the clothes Soyoung has laid out for her on the bed and can’t help but smile. Dressing quickly, she feels a wave of warmth and gratitude wash over her. The house that was once cold and gray has transformed into a warm, colorful haven filled with sweet melodies since Soyoung came into her life.

As Freya descends the stairs, she notices the changes that have taken place in her home. The shelves, once empty, are now filled with stories and poetry. Her mother’s old, forgotten piano has been repaired and is now a source of joy during their leisure moments. Her father's collection of vinyl records in the living room, once silent and outdated, has become a source of inspiration for Soyoung’s new songs. Holiday photos and Polaroids of the two of them together adorn the walls and the refrigerator door, turning her childhood house into a true home.

Freya enters the kitchen, the sight of Soyoung setting the table bringing a smile to her face. She walks over and wraps her arms around Soyoung from behind, resting her chin on Soyoung’s shoulder. “The house looks beautiful,” she whispers.

Soyoung turns her head slightly to kiss Freya's cheek. “I’m glad you think so.”

Freya tightens her embrace briefly before letting go. “It does. More than ever.”

Freya looks around, appreciating the warmth and comfort that Soyoung has infused into every corner of their home. They have two houses that feel just as alive – one here in London, and the other, Soyoung’s mansion in Los Angeles. For the past couple of years, Soyoung has spent most of her time in London, but they have been talking about spending more time together back in LA, especially with Soyoung’s busy schedule approaching.

“How was your day?” Freya asks, then takes a sip of her beer. The table in front of her is beautifully set with an array of colorful dishes. The warm, inviting aroma of Soyoung’s cooking fills the air, creating a cozy atmosphere that contrasts with the complexity of their unspoken feelings.

Soyoung smiles as she places a dish of Bibimbap in front of Freya. “It was good. I managed to finish recording the new song, and I’m really excited about how it turned out. I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

“I’m sure I will love it,” says Freya nonchalantly, a little bit distracted by the delicious food she is about to devour.

Soyoung blushes slightly, then serves Kimchi Jjigae from a bubbling hot pot. “I also got a call from my manager. He wants me to fly back to Los Angeles to finalize some deals and prepare for the new album. There are a few brand deals to sign, too.”

Freya’s eyebrows raise in interest. “That sounds exciting. When do you have to leave?”

Soyoung sighs. “In a few days. I’ll have to leave the same week after your exhibition starts.”

Freya reaches across the table and takes Soyoung’s hand, feeling the familiar yet ambiguous warmth between them. “I’m sure you’ll handle it brilliantly, as always.”

Soyoung smiles, but there is a hint of worry in her eyes. Both stay silent, withdrawn into their own thoughts while chewing on their meal. Occasionally, Soyoung glances at Freya, who sometimes seems lost in thought while enjoying her food. She hopes that Freya can join her for a little vacation in LA before her schedule gets crazier with tours and promotions.

Soyoung has not told Freya about the numerous requests for magazine interviews alongside her. With the release of her new album approaching and the highly anticipated exhibition of Freya and Yua’s artworks on the horizon, invitations for joint appearances have intensified. People are undeniably curious about the nature of their relationship. Despite Soyoung’s repeated assertions that they are just “really good” friends, the public seems intent on believing otherwise. After all, actions often speak louder than words.

Soyoung is well aware of the conversations her fans are having on social media. Under the guise of anonymity, she signs up for forums and communities to spy on her fans’ discussions. Her curiosity and caution drive her to understand what people think about her and Freya.

She discovers several dedicated accounts for “FreYoung”—the ship name her fans have coined for them. These accounts buzz with speculation and fan theories, piecing together evidence of their relationship. Fans analyze everything, from the similar house interiors and exchanged T-shirts to the pictures of them seen together at various events. They highlight the way Soyoung’s eyes often lock onto Freya’s and vice versa, and how they hold hands like a real couple. They dissect all the lyrics Soyoung ever wrote and sang, pairing them with the “evidence” they gather about the relationship. The fans’ keen observations and relentless deductions paint a picture that words alone can’t refute.

Sometimes, Soyoung can’t help but feel like she is deceiving her fans, who are always supportive of her no matter what. With her moving into Freya’s home and Freya moving into hers, it should be obvious that something significant is happening between them. This sense of guilt lingers, yet she can’t betray her promise to Ahyeon.

Years ago, Soyoung and Ahyeon did something reckless and foolish. They were young and madly in love, seeking a release after their group’s world tour ended. One night, they went to a nightclub to blow off some steam. Some fans noticed their presence and captured a video of them hugging each other. In their drunken state, they even made out. Fortunately, it was dark, and the smartphone cameras at the time were not as advanced as they are today. As a result, the video was grainy, and the images were unclear. The fans who took the video swore they saw Soyoung and Ahyeon kissing, but the poor quality of the footage left room for doubt. Despite the questionable evidence, the rumors persisted.

Their managers were quick to deny the accusations, but the pictures remained online, fueling speculation and unanswered questions. The fear of losing their careers deteriorated their relationship. Ahyeon, who once treated Soyoung gently, suddenly became distant and verbally abusive. Soyoung, who once respected and admired Ahyeon, started to grow apart and slowly learned how to conduct herself around Ahyeon. Though she still cared for her ex-lover, she chose to end the relationship for good, hoping it would ease Ahyeon’s mind.

Years passed, but the shadow of that incident still lingers in Ahyeon’s mind. She goes to the extent of bombarding Soyoung with text messages and missed calls when Soyoung is first seen together in public with Freya Adler in paparazzi photos. “Are you out of your mind? Holding hands with someone who is clearly a lesbian in public? Are you going to ruin me, Soyoung-ah? You’re disgusting! You know that, right?” The rumors about Soyoung and Ahyeon’s kissing in the nightclub resurfaced on the same night and...

"Thank you for dinner," Freya says, snapping Soyoung out of her thoughts.

"Did you like it?" Soyoung asks, her cheeks flushing with a shy smile.

"Well, I think you should open a restaurant," Freya teases, her words wrapped in genuine praise. “I always like your cooking. Ten out of ten.”

Freya stands, clearing her dirty bowl and chopsticks from the table before opening the fridge to grab a bottle of beer. She turns to see Soyoung still savoring her dinner. Initially, she thinks to ask if Soyoung wants a beer as well, but she already knows the answer. Instead, Freya takes another bottle, opens both, and sets one in front of Soyoung.

"Thanks," Soyoung murmurs.

“No worries,” Freya smiles as she sits down with a bottle of beer in her hand.

Soyoung puts down her chopsticks on the table, deciding she is full. She looks at Freya taking a long gulp of her beer and chuckles. She waits until Freya finishes her beer to ask, “I was wondering if you could come with me. We can have a little vacation in LA before my schedule starts to get busy.”

It does not take long for Freya to answer, “I thought you’d never ask.”

She should have known, Freya never refuses any chance they have to spend time together, anywhere and anytime. Maybe, losing people she loves in her life makes Freya the person Soyoung knows today. Though sometimes it is hard for her not to ask, “Did I break your heart when I had to pose next to a man in music videos when the lyrics were meant for you? Should we make it official? Do you want me to announce to the world that I love you?”

And instead, what always comes out from her mouth is only, “Can I kiss you now?”

---- END OF CH. 1 ----

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the bedroom. Freya stirs awake, the warmth of Soyoung’s body next to her a comforting reminder from last night. She lies still for a moment, savoring the serene beauty of the morning and the rhythmic sound of Soyoung’s breathing.

Gently, Freya brushes aside a strand of Soyoung's hair from her face, her fingers lingering a moment longer to caress Soyoung’s soft skin. She is careful not to wake Soyoung, who remains peacefully asleep, her form elegantly draped in the tangled sheets. Freya’s heart swells with tenderness as she gazes at her, marveling at the quiet intimacy they share.

A mix of emotions floods Freya’s mind as she remembers the night before. They haven't had sex in a while, but the memory of Soyoung’s passionate kisses and the way she confidently undressed her lingers vividly. It stirs a sense of exhilaration within her, mingled with a tender worry. Freya wonders if Soyoung feels the same desire and hopes for the moments they will continue to create together.

Freya leans in, placing a gentle kiss on Soyoung’s forehead before carefully slipping out of bed. 

She grabs her dressing gown from behind the door and wraps it around her body, then quietly exits their bedroom to go downstairs and make a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

While waiting for the water to boil, Freya’s mind starts buzzing with thoughts of her upcoming exhibition. She is preparing to showcase her works alongside Yua’s unseen paintings, sketches, notes, and home-made videos of their time together. It’s a bold idea she has tried to avoid her whole life. Everyone knows about Yua’s tragic death—Freya’s mother stabbed herself in the chest, and twelve-year-old Freya discovered the body the next morning. The incident fueled rumors about Yua selling her soul to the devil for her skills. Despite this, people remain fascinated by Yua’s life and what it must have been like to be her daughter, Freya Adler.

Freya shakes her head, unable to comprehend the overwhelming response to the event. The media and journalists proclaim it to be the most significant moment in art history, the most anticipated exhibition of their generation. To Freya, these claims seem exaggerated. She knows what they truly want: to ask, “Do you think your mother really sold her soul to the devil?”

When faced with that inevitable question, Freya often pauses, a mix of emotions crossing her face. Her response is always measured, tinged with the sadness of her past. Back then, she had every reason to reply that it was not the event to ask such a question as she looked the interviewer in the eye. But in her upcoming exhibition, clearly there are no excuses left to use.

She knows so little about her mother, having spent most of her life in anger, hate, and spite towards her. Only in recent years has she begun to pay attention, trying to piece together the fragments of Yua’s life. After her wife passed away, she returned to London to start anew. It was then she began to confront her past, shedding the layers of anger that had defined her for so long.

Freya realizes she needs to dedicate her time to uncover the truth about her mother’s death. Perhaps, when she finally understands why her mother chose to leave her, and whether there really was a curse, everything will fall into place. Only then will she know what to do with her feelings for Soyoung.

Besides, her mother’s last painting, Simulated World of Alpha Nine, is still missing. The thought of it being traded in the black market feels like a wound, a quiet, persistent ache.

***

Freya pours the boiling water over the coffee grounds with a precise, almost ritualistic care. The steam curls upwards, mingling with the morning light that filters softly through the kitchen window. The room fills with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

She feels a pair of warm arms encircle her waist from behind, a quiet, familiar presence. Soyoung, still sleepy-eyed, hugs her tightly, resting her head against Freya's back.

Freya smiles, a tender, almost invisible curve of her lips. “Coffee?” she asks.

Soyoung nods, then buries her sleepy face in the crook of Freya’s neck. She breathes in deeply, her senses intoxicated by the mingling scents of skin and warmth, drawing strength and comfort from the simple, intimate closeness.

***

Soyoung waits for Freya in the living room, her fingers lightly grazing the smooth fabric of her dressing gown as she takes out her phone. Ignoring the barrage of messages from Manager Lee, she navigates straight to her recording files. Her thumb hovers, then selects the new song she wants Freya to hear.

A faint melody soon fills the room through the Bluetooth speaker as Freya enters, carrying a tray with coffee, toast, and eggs for breakfast. Together, they place the items on the coffee table in the center of the room. Settling onto the sofa, their feet touch gently, a quiet connection as they enjoy breakfast and warm coffee while listening to the song Soyoung recorded yesterday.

Soyoung always looks forward to the quiet, slow mornings she spends with Freya every weekend. But something feels off with Freya today. Freya seems lost in her thoughts, distant and preoccupied. ‘Was the sex bad last night?’ Soyoung wonders, concerned.

“You seem quiet this morning. Has something happened?” Soyoung finally asks, breaking the silence and snapping Freya out of her daydream.

Freya takes a small sip of her coffee, then sets the cup down before finally responding. “It’s just that… I’ve been wondering…” She stutters, hesitantly glancing at Soyoung, who is drinking her coffee. “Do you think my mother really sold her soul to the devil?”

The question catches Soyoung by surprise, making her almost choke on her drink. She coughs, quickly setting her cup back on the table and clearing her throat. “Why? Are you really going to ask me that?”

Innocently, Freya nods.

Soyoung takes a moment to look deeply into the eyes of the person she loves. Freya looks like a lost puppy, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, waiting for an answer.

“Do you think the rumor about her is true?” Freya asks once more, her voice soft but insistent.

With no hesitation, Soyoung shakes her head. “I don’t believe that rumor, never did.”

Freya had shared the story with her long ago: how, at just twelve years old, she was the one who discovered her mother’s body that fateful morning. Freya said she still remembers everything vividly—the shock, the fear, the anger—all of it lingering in her chest, haunting her for years. Those memories became recurring nightmares, preventing her from returning to this house. Yet, here they are. The room where she found her mother’s body is only a few doors away.

“People also say that I’m using drugs, do you believe them?” Soyoung asks Freya back. “People will say anything to discredit others' achievements. Humans can be cruel sometimes,” she continues.

Freya smiles slightly, knowing Soyoung has a point. But doubts linger. What if there is more to her mother’s life that she has been too afraid to uncover? What if her mother didn’t kill herself? What if she’s been wrong all this time?

Freya quickly shakes the intrusive thoughts from her mind. She changes the subject, turning to Soyoung and asking her to replay the new song. “Can you play it again? I want to listen closely,” she says, redirecting the conversation to safer, more comforting ground.

But Soyoung refuses. “No,” she grabs Freya’s hand and stands up. “Follow me!”

“Where?” Freya blinks a few times, looking up at Soyoung with confusion.

“If you’re in doubt, let’s call her ghost and ask her your question,” Soyoung explains, still standing and waiting for Freya to do the same.

Freya finally stands in front of Soyoung. 

“Close your eyes,” Soyoung instructs.

Freya closes her eyes as Soyoung holds both her hands tightly.

“Now, listen to my voice and follow my commands. Understand?”

Freya smiles, thinking Soyoung is being really silly, but she nods. This is the kind of exercise theater actresses do before getting on stage to get into their characters.

“Take a deep breath in…” Soyoung begins, breathing in herself.

Hesitant at first, Freya eventually follows her command.

“…and out,” Soyoung’s voice is slow and soft.

“…in…” they breathe in.

“…and out…” they breathe out.

“Now, try to remember an adventure you once had with your mom,” Soyoung’s voice echoes in Freya’s head. “Remember when you sat outside this house, on that one summer day, bathed in the sun… that memory you once told me about.”

Freya squints in concentration, feeling the warmth of the morning sun on her skin.

“Remember what you had in your hands that day? How did it feel? Smooth? Tender? What was it?”

An image of her playing with a bucket of water starts to emerge behind Freya’s closed eyes. Slowly but surely, Soyoung’s voice fades, and the image becomes vivid. The touch on her skin feels real. Her hands were small, and the bucket was full of fresh water she wished to bathe in. The water was so refreshing, the smell of grass and mud on her skin, fresh flowers in her mother’s garden.

She looks up as she takes a deep breath in. The weather was good that day. The sky was clear, and she felt so happy because her mother let her play all day in the front yard.

“Frey, omizu de asonde iru to byouki ni naru kara, mou juubun dayo?” Frey, I think that’s enough; you’ll get sick if you play with that much water.

A familiar voice makes Freya turn her head. Her mom is there with her, standing behind her with a towel in her hand. Her long dark hair, her white gown. Her feet are dirty with mud.

“Kassan—” Mom. “Mou gofun dake.” Just five more minutes.

Little Freya looks down, playing with her bucket of water. Splashing it on her face with both her hands, she laughs happily.

“Umi da yo, okaasan, mite!” It’s an ocean, Mom, look!

Yua crouches beside Little Freya, chuckling at how happy her daughter is. It’s just a bucket of water, but Freya sees it as an ocean. She has taught her daughter to see great things in the ordinary. She pats her daughter’s head lovingly and says, “Obore nai you ni ki wo tsukete ne.” Careful not to drown then.

Little Freya mischievously splashes water on her mom, making small wet patches on her gown. “Kassan, issho ni kite. Oborenai you ni.” Mom, come with me, so I don’t drown.

Gladly, Yua plays along with her daughter. She even takes a long water hose and makes the water pour over them.

Five minutes pass, yet both of them continue to enjoy playing in the front yard. Their hair is wet, and their clothes are completely soaked. They run and chase each other, laughter and smiles painting their faces.

Eventually, the pirate adventure needs to end. Yua takes another clean towel from inside the house. She comes back outside to see her daughter standing on their front porch. 

Little Freya is looking at a beautiful blonde woman who just passed by. She seems so fixated on the beauty, her little eyes fixed on her like a magnet.

Yua kneels beside her daughter then wraps her little body with a towel and asks, “do you know her?”

Little Freya finds it hard to turn her head to see her mother, but she does it anyway. “No,” she answers. “She’s just so beautiful. Very beautiful. Why is she so beautiful?”

“Ah, you like beautiful people?” Yua asks back with a smile that seems to never wear off every time she discovers something new about her daughter. “Maybe she’s a vampire. Vampires look so beautiful, and they never get old.”

“Are you a vampire too?” Little Freya asks with her doe eyes sparkling. The admiring look in Little Freya’s eyes as she watches her makes the day feel far too short for Yua.

“Do you think I’m beautiful?” Yua teases Little Freya.

Beautiful, Freya murmurs. Her hand lifts up to touch her mother’s cheek softly.

“Being your mother makes me so,” Yua finally answers, her voice echoing in Freya’s head.

Then why did you leave me? Freya squints her eyes in confusion.

Her mind starts to buzz with thoughts, questions she needs her mother to answer, distracting her focus.

Why, mom? Feelings start to swell in her chest—pain, longing, confusion. The memory starts to distort. Tears begin to well up in her eyes.

What happened to us? Colors start to fade. A memory once so vivid gradually turns gray and blurry.

Eventually, Freya opens her eyes and sees Soyoung standing in front of her, looking at her closely. Freya’s cheek is wet with tears. Soyoung brushes them off with her thumb and lets their eyes lock.

“Promise me you won’t run away,” Soyoung whispers, her voice tender and soft. “You need to ask her yourself.”

Freya takes Soyoung’s hand off her face, kisses the back of it, and nods. A moment later, she clears her throat and says, “I’m hungry, let’s go grab some food.”

***

A woman stands before a vibrant painting, a half-full plastic glass of bubble tea in one hand, and earphones delivering orchestral melodies into her ears. Soyoung’s carefully crafted lyrics about a door to a different world, with an optimistic tone embedded in the song, perfectly complement the scenery before her.

“Your stories woven into the fabric of my fate, oh how could I hold myself against you,” Freya hears Soyoung’s voice sing, the lyrics delivered with orchestral grandeur.

It’s been a long time since Freya has taken the time to closely examine her mother’s painting. Yua is known for her unique artistic expression. Her mother didn’t use plain canvases; instead, she painted on colorful fabrics and intricate patterns. She didn’t just use one kind of paint but almost everything—oil, dye, wax, and sometimes even threads.

At the time, the method was not very common. It was innovative and refreshing. Freya has to admit that her mother was extraordinarily talented in crafting magical landscapes out of mundane patterns and blending the old with the new. Perhaps the claim that Yua could “carve a new world on her canvas” was not too far-fetched after all.

“You know we’re not allowed to bring any food or drinks in here, right?”

Realizing that Soyoung has returned from the gift store and is now standing beside her, Freya takes out one of her earphones and looks at her.

“Sorry, what?”

“We’re not allowed to bring any food or drinks,” Soyoung repeats.

Freya chuckles and teasingly replies, “Except me, I’m Freya Adler.” Then she takes a sip of her drink.

Soyoung playfully throws a weak punch on Freya’s arm in protest, and they both laugh at the joke.

As the laughter fades, Soyoung looks at Yua's painting and says softly, “I always wish I could have met your mother.”

Freya doesn’t say anything, instead, she looks at Soyoung standing next to her, feeling certain that the two of them would have gotten along very well.

“Have you got the gifts for your manager and staff?” Freya asks, changing the subject. She looks down and sees a paper bag in Soyoung’s hand.

“Yeah,” Soyoung replies. “Have you listened to the song?” She asks.

“It’s beautiful. I love it,” Freya answers. “I can imagine the crowd will scream, like…” Freya mimics a fangirl’s ecstatic expression, silently opening her mouth wide and raising her hands as if she were one of the Beatles’ fans seeing their idols.

Soyoung’s cheeks flush a deep red as she tries hard to stifle her laughter, but it bursts out of her anyway. She covers her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound. Playfully she slaps Freya’s arm, annoyed by the silly face Freya just made. Then she clings onto Freya, still giggling uncontrollably.

Without them noticing, a visitor in the distance subtly raised their phone, fingers deftly snapping a few photos and recording a short video. Freya and Soyoung’s laughter echoed softly, their closeness evident in every shared glance and playful touch. The visitor’s eyes widened in disbelief at their luck, and with a few taps, the content was swiftly uploaded to a social media platform, the screen lighting up with notifications as tags to popular gossip accounts were added.

As likes and replies began to pour in, Soyoung remained oblivious.

She leaned into Freya, her laughter mingling with the soft hum of the room, her heart light and her guard down. For now, she was lost in the moment, wrapped in the warmth and joy of being with the person she loved most.

---- END OF CH. 2 ----