At 3AM You Might See the Stars

The party is boring, as Woobyeol expected. Two hours ago they were studying for their Architectural Studies midterm in Lilith’s apartment, and now they’re sitting on the porch stairs of some frat house. Which one is it again? Beta Theta Pi? Delta Kappa Ep-something? Lilith has a friend here, and Woobyeol has a friend of a friend here, so overall the name is pretty unimportant.

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By the time they arrived, all of the beer cans were littered on the lawn, post-shotgunned. The only thing they have left is vodka, no mixer, which is awful but bearable in small increments, especially the peach-flavored one. She shakes out the last drops from her Solo cup onto her tongue and waits for Lilith to finish making out with some junior, who sits two steps above them and is twisting his body downward at an uncomfortable angle to reach her lips.

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Lilith grabs the front of the boy’s shirt and pushes him drunkenly away, laughing and waving her other hand in Woobyeol’s direction. Her body works instinctively in response, filling the red cup up to the halfway point and slotting it into her friend’s hands. She lingers slightly to make sure the other girl has a firm grip on it.

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“Staaar. I can’t drink all of this.”

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“It’s for both of us.”

 

“Oh, good.” Lilith takes a sip and giggles, curls bouncing with each shake of her shoulders. “Nice. Smart.”

They pass the cup a couple of more times, back and forth till it’s empty and one of them refills it. The bottle is running low, Woobyeol notes as she tosses her arm out for their sixth baton toss, narrowly missing three girls making their way down the steps. Could she go inside and steal another bottle without anyone noticing? Her limbs feel a lot floatier than they did five minutes ago; she doesn’t want to trip and faceplant in the frat house kitchen. It would be funny, though. It would make Lilith go into hysterics, make her cough out her cute hiccup-laughs.

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Soft fingers touch Woobyeol’s hand instead of cold plastic, taking her out of her reverie. They crawl up to her wrist before tugging lightly.

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“Star,” Lilith murmurs, leaning on her shoulder and into her neck, “let’s leave.”

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“What about Felix?” Woobyeol asks. She knows his name somehow, remembers it from his lame introduction when they first stepped into the house. He’s definitely cute enough to peak Lilith’s interest, but too much a white NPC to be more than a fling. At least, she thinks so.

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“Bad kisser,” Lilith responds, breath tickling her ear. She tugs on her wrist lightly again. The warmth of the vodka crawls up to Woobyeol’s throat.

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“Okay,” she whispers back.

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Their drunken haze autopilots them to the front door of Lilith’s apartment, giddy and out of breath from running for the hell of it. The last time they got drunk at a party, they came back to Lilith’s apartment and downed another bottle while rewatching French dub episodes of “Miraculous Ladybug.” Lilith jangles her door handle, struggling to unlock it in her giggly state, and Woobyeol wonders if they’ll do that again today. Remembers belatedly that she didn’t steal another bottle for them this time, like she had planned to.

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She relays this information to Lilith. “That’s fine,” she says, laughing quietly. “I like hanging out with you sober more, anyway.” The door finally relents, welcoming them to a dark abyss that contrasts with the headache-inducing fluorescent lights of the hallway.

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They walk in, not bothering to turn on the light; there’s enough light from outside to vaguely see the silhouettes of everything. Loose papers from their study session earlier lie cluttered on the kitchen table, a small pile of Dum-Dums in the center of them. Woobyeol watches Lilith drop her keys haphazardly on the table and pick up one of the lollipops. She unwraps it slowly, head swaying slightly, and places it in her cheek. Woobyeol wonders briefly what flavor it is this time.

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“I’m starving, what about you?” Lilith’s voice is slightly slurred from the alcohol, or maybe it’s the obstacle of the candy in her mouth, or both. Woobyeol nods slowly, controlling her movements to avoid a raging headache. “Okay, yeah. Let’s eat something, let’s eat.”

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Lilith crouches and opens the door to her fridge, which illuminates the space they’re standing in with a fluorescent, Eve-from-Wall•E glow. Empty shelves stare back at them. “Ohhh.” She hiccups. “I don’t really have anything. Oopsie.” She turns around and smiles sheepishly, an endearing expression even in the eerie lighting. “Trip to Lemon Mart?”

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“It’s 3AM,” Woobyeol responds, a knowingly weak retort.

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“24-hour market,” Lilith reminds, smile only growing wider. “And the night is young. Young young young.”

 

Normally she’d refuse more firmly, but with Lilith her composure always crumbles just enough to give in. Something about the refrigerator whir and the white-blue lighting and her friend’s childish joy pulls at Woobyeol. Clears the curtains for a version of her that wants — a version that obeys those wants.

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And despite her headache, she wants to go out — doesn’t want the night to end. There’s still fresh air left to breathe in, sweet sensations to savor. A little tipsy spontaneity never hurt anyone, least of all her stomach.

 

♡

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Lemon Mart is only two blocks from Lilith’s apartment, so they tussle with the door again and head out on foot. You can’t see the stars at night in this collegetown because of the light pollution, which sucks but isn’t all that different from other places Woobyeol has lived in. If anything it makes walking around at night less daunting. They stumble over another uneven sidewalk spewing out black asphalt from its cracks, the fall breeze cooling down their warm, buzzed bodies.

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Lilith links her arm with Woobyeol, skin touching with the crispness of a canned refreshment. She didn’t bring a jacket again; she’s been forgetting to bring one a lot lately. Woobyeol instinctively pulls Lilith in, rubbing her hand against her friend’s unlinked arm to kindle heat. It’s working, at least for her.

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“Your hand is warm,” Lilith whispers, a soft giggle tucked between the words.

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“Yeah,” Woobyeol agrees a little dumbly. “Are you cold?”

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“Not really.” She tightens the gap between their linked arms, shivering into Woobyeol and exhibiting the contrary. Woobyeol feels her whole body thawing at the sensation. “But it’s nice.”

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They arrive at the shiny mustard-walled store in no time. Woobyeol doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to the layout of this place. All grocery stores are capitalist labyrinths, purposefully constructed to make you dawdle through each aisle and crave for more than you really need, but this one is as dizzying as a corn maze. The frozen food aisle faces the entrance on its long side, the produce section to its left in a separate, doored room. Cash registers are hidden somewhere way in the back, for whatever reason. It adds a little to her nausea just staring at it.

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This Lemon Mart is different from the one Woobyeol is used to, the one outside of her mom’s apartment complex in Mapo-gu. She scrunches her nose and tries to remember what the surroundings of that one smelled like: freshly-fried tteokkochi from the left, sliced watermelon from the right. Nice. This one just smells like the Salonpas that its indoor CVS sells.

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“First thing I’m doing after graduation is proposing a new blueprint for this fucking place.” Lilith pulls a shopping cart from its formation with the others, chewing lightly on the white lollipop stick peeking out of her mouth as they walk in. The flavor of the lollipop is still indiscernible from Woobyeol’s point of view. “Ridiculous, honestly.”

 

Woobyeol smiles inadvertently. Lilith gets it; she almost always does. During their first semester, they made it a game to find a new faulty design component each time they went grocery shopping because of how astounded they were by the place. “A cart? Not a basket?”

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“I haven’t done groceries in two weeks,” Lilith yawns, crossing her arms on the cart’s handlebar and resting her head there. “Might as well do it now. What should we get?”

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“Mm.” Woobyeol shuffles her feet to the dg-dg-dg dragging of the cart. “Sliced fruit.”

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“Yes. And maybe a microwave meal.”

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“Some chips.”

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“Chicken?”

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“No, I said chips. But that too.”

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“Okay.” Lilith eyes a pack of Lunchables that someone’s discarded on top of a muffin display, examining the contents with an expression of sincere contemplation. They switch control of the cart as she goes to pick it up. “And more vodka. Not for tonight, but if you ever want to come over and have some. Though, fuck, let me make sure I brought my fake.”

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There are only a few other parties in the store, but their presence is actually surprising given the time. They turn toward the drinks aisle, one of the only saving graces of the store along with its sizeable ethnic foods section. There’s a small, one-wall section of imported East Asian beverages marketed next to Danimals and twelve different kinds of cow’s milk. Three girls stand in front of it, perusing. Woobyeol recognizes them from the party earlier; they must’ve also gotten hungry.

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As they get closer, though, she realizes that they aren’t looking at the drinks but having a photoshoot in front of them. Two of them stick chest-to-chest and smile; the girl on the left holds a crinkly Yakult five-pack up to their face like a closed fan, the other clutching a Ito En green tea bottle and waving it in the air. The third directs their arms and head tilts, saying, closer, closer, so the Danimals aren’t in frame. All three of them are white; of course they are.

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“Okay, didn’t bring my fake. Let’s get a pack of Milkis instead, I’ve been craving it since the first time you showed me them.”

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Woobyeol fights the urge to roll her eyes at the girls. One day she’ll push past them and grab what she wants instead of waiting for them to finish. Or maybe she’ll stand next to them and have Lilith take photos of her in front of Horizon cartons to show them how ridiculous they’re being. She’s too sobered up now to make that kind of public impulsive decision, though. She wishes she wasn’t.

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“Star.”

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The shopping cart nudges into her stomach. Lilith stands on the end of the cart, a concerned expression in her eyes that disappears with a blink. She straightens up and takes the lollipop out of her mouth, lips quirked in a soft half-grin, and tilts her head toward the girls still having their photoshoot. “Ridiculous,” she mouths, using her hand to cover her lips from their view.

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It pulls a laugh out of Woobyeol’s tense, tired chest, grounds her in this weird complicated maze of a store. There’s a tingling in her stomach; the remaining alcohol coursing through her, maybe.

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Lilith’s hand is held out toward her now, lollipop tilted toward Woobyeol like a cigarette. The candy shines red under the grocery light. Woobyeol recognizes the silent offering. The first time she offered, back in first semester after their fifth study session together, Lilith explained that it wasn’t much different from sharing straws, or Solo cups. Splitting it between them would decrease the chances of both of them getting cavities, too — it was pretty logical, if you really thought about it. Good cost-benefit ratio.

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Woobyeol leans forward and lets Lilith place the lollipop on her tongue, forms her lips around it. The lollipop is watermelon-flavored. Lilith doesn’t really care for cherry- or strawberry-flavored things — always says the artificial versions of those fruits taste like plastic. She savors the taste, sweet against her tongue. The candy also tastes faintly of peach.

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Is it possible to get mono from indirect methods like this? Woobyeol gazes up at her friend, whose eyes are down at her lips. Maybe she’s wondering the same thing. Woobyeol doesn’t think she’d mind if she got sick from this, or if her teeth rotted slowly and she had to get dentures or Invisalign or something, if it meant being able to spend moments with Lilith like this. She’d go through any whirlwind of events, like sharing Solo cups and running away from frat parties and doing groceries at 3 AM, if it meant they’d always end up here, caught in each other’s gaze, no desire to pull away.

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The lollipop stick tugs lightly against Woobyeol’s teeth; she stands upright again, candy leaving her mouth. Watches Lilith pull back, eyes making their way up to hers.

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She whispers it back to Lilith. “Ridiculous.” She feels her tongue graze against the top of her mouth as she wraps herself around the word, body laden with it, unsure now which set of girls she’s referring to in those four syllables.