Aeri cooked some kimchi soup that evening. Minjeong never tasted anything better. Certainly a chef's kiss.

"I'm going home to celebrate Chuseok with my family," said Aeri.

"That's great," Minjeong said. "I'll make sure to keep the apartment and your shop nice and tidy."

Aeri's gaze lingered on her as she sipped some broth from her spoon – the type of gaze that always meant the girl had something to say. Minjeong lapped some stray broth on her lips before meeting it.

"What?"

"Maybe you should eat with your family too."

Minjeong popped a pork in her mouth and chuckled. "I don't think they want their dyke of a daughter to come back."

"It's been a long time. Maybe you should try."

Minjeong set her chopsticks down on her bowl. "They made it very clear the last time I tried."

The latter worried her lip as Minjeong flashed a small smile. "Don't worry about it, Aeri."

"Do you want to come eat with my family?" she asked. "They wouldn't mind."

Minjeong waved the offer off. "It's fine. You haven't seen your family in a while and you've been stuck with me long enough. It's about time you have time to yourself."

Aeri smiled softly as she fidgeted with her chopsticks. "Are you sure you'll be fine?"

"Yes, mom."

"I'll cook extra food in the fridge. A week's worth."

"Thank you, mom."

Aeri widened her smile and reached across the table to ruffle Minjeong's hair. Minjeong yelped, pouting as she fixed her bangs hastily. "Hey! I worked hard on my hair this morning."

"Maybe you should cut these bangs off." Aeri mimed scissors gliding across her forehead. "Try something new for a change."

Minjeong gasped and held her bangs against her forehead defensively. "No! It helps me hide pimples."

"But it helps – you know – to cut off old things. It feels a lot more refreshing. When you hold onto too many things, it gets you nowhere." Aeri picked up her finished bowl as she stood up. "I'm going to go pack up. Can you wash the dishes?"

"Yeah."

After Aeri walked out from the kitchen to her room, Minjeong's eyes fell on her journal that sat on the kitchen island. Her chopsticks aimlessly poked at her soup, the onions idling adrift in subtle stirs.

It helps to cut things off?

She lingered on the journal before returning to her soup. Her reflection showed on the metal of her silverware – a tad distorted, but her eyes were discernible. They were gloomy and elicited a revelation that didn't occur to her before: she hadn't been happy in a long time. But it wasn't that Aeri didn't make her happy – that girl was a blessing – it was that she hadn't been truly happy.

Her eyes wandered back to the journal. Was it selfish to want to experience true happiness once more? Just once more before the next spring rain? Even if it was a day, a minute, a second? One word, one look, one silence?

Maybe it does help to cut things off, but not yet, though. It's not time to let you go.

—

Everything on the table looked delicious: a neatly organized plate of Song Pyun, golden Jeon, an elegant box of pear brought by Jaehyun's mom, and much more all displayed orderly between the families. Although the feast could probably feed four families, Jimin didn't have much of an appetite that evening, her plate piled with barely touched japchae.

"Jimin is to be fitted in wedding dresses next week," Jimin's mom announced.

"That's exciting!" exclaimed Jaehyun's mom. "Jaehyun is also getting his suit fitted and tailored."

They were talking about the wedding again. No wonder Jimin lost her appetite. The aimless picking of her food with her fork intensified until she was practically stabbing the poor beef to shreds. The soft jazz music from the radio wasn't loud enough to tune out the conversation and failed to calm her nerves.

"Maybe the kids should get their attire together," Jaehyun's dad suggested. "They haven't spent time alone together nowadays. It's good to give them space."

"That's a great idea," nodded Jimin's dad. "It's definitely a must to help your bride with her dress before the wedding. Back in my days with Jinah..."

Jimin glanced up from her plate to Jaehyun seated across from her, posture rigidly upright and eating pieces of rice cake graciously. She looked to her left, Wonbin diligently cutting into Jeon with no sign of interest in the adult conversation. Her eyes returned to Jaehyun, who – at the same instant – locked eyes with her, and a sudden sickly churn evoked in her stomach. She pushed herself up, the loud groan of her chair against the tiles diverting everyone's attention to her.

"I'm not feeling well," Jimin said curtly, head hung to avoid eye contact. "I need to rest."

"You haven't eaten much, sweetie," Jimin's mom said. "Your plate is full."

"I don't have an appetite tonight." Jimin strained a polite smile, as polite as it could get without her eye twitching. "May I leave?"

Blatant displeasure was all over her dad's face, but how could a diligent, fine man refuse his daughter's request, especially in front of other people? He gave a single curt nod. "Okay. Rest well."

Jimin nodded in thanks and briskly left the dining room. Although the suffocation seemed to slightly lift once she stepped out, it lingered nonetheless. It lingered all over this house, these walls – it seeped from everything in this damned building and clung onto her skin. Walking up the stairs, Jimin spotted Joohyun feather dusting a vase in the hallway of her room.

"Can you come in here for a minute, Joohyun?" Jimin gestured with her hand.

Joohyun's head perked up in surprise, but mutely followed Jimin into her room. While Joohyun stood patiently by the door, Jimin rummaged through her closet for a coat and a hat, then strode across the room to fish out her camera from her desk.

"I'm going to step out for a while." Jimin shouldered her camera strap. "You know what to do."

"Yes, Miss Jimin," Joohyun said. "Make the sheets plump with pillows and say that you're fast asleep."

Jimin patted her shoulder. "Thanks."

Jimin's hand lingered as the older girl bowed, her throat clenched with guilt. She'd always been nasty toward Joohyun, but she returned nothing but kindness. Perhaps it was time to reevaluate her attitude, maybe gift Joohyun something. She deserved it for putting up with her. Jimin gave one more pat before leaving the room.

The chatter from the dining room was muffled and distant as Jimin slipped out the door. All the servants were busy handling the dinner, making it an easy getaway. The air was chilly – a nice chill that soothed her nerves – and the night iridescent.

Taking a walk helps clear and jog your mind, echoed Minjeong's voice.

Jimin's feet began to move, the fact strange because she had no particular destination in mind.

Her feet traveled down the winding road of her neighborhood, turned a street, then another, then up an incline, then across a sidewalk. She walked by a few cars and people – mere shapes and silhouettes, all of them a passing wind. Her chin was upward, following the many stars of the serene sky – a dotted trail with no end, a treasure map with no treasure. The dark street was unresponsive in its slumber, save for a few dim lamp posts spaced every so feet along the sidewalk's outer edge.

Then, there was a brighter light at the end of the street, radiating like an end to a tunnel. It was an awakened building – a small one, a tiny corner coffee shop. The appearance was soft and warm with its cute paned windows and potted plants, an environment very fitting of a coffee shop. Jimin halted at the stark edge of light streaming out the window and onto the concrete, and her eyes trailed to peer in.

There was a woman in the shop – brown low ponytail and beige sweater with rolled up sleeves – cleaning the tables. Her back was turned to Jimin, but the tense shoulders and forearms showed that the woman was working hard at the chore, occasionally spraying the surface with a bottle and wiping the rag across and all around. She paused for a moment and her head slightly turned to the side, enough for Jimin to identify bangs that she tucked away with the back of her hand.

Minjeong.

Jimin looked at the store sign, hung above her by a handle that jutted outward to give a clear view of the shop name to passerby: Gisellend Café.

She works at a coffee shop? Jimin wondered, eyes tracing back to Minjeong who had moved on to another table. This time – rather than her back – Minjeong's side was in view, her eyebrows stitched in concentration and lips pursed in dedicated labor. Minjeong hadn't seen Jimin yet. Perhaps Jimin should leave and continue her stroll, think of Minjeong as one of the many passing winds. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. All these 'perhaps', these 'maybes', but her feet remained rooted on the same spot, just outside the border of the shop's light.

Because Minjeong was not a passing wind, not like those during her walk here. A passing wind was one Jimin could get through with ease, but Minjeong was a gale that was excruciatingly hard to get through, despite all the countless pushes forward.

Her feet began to move again. It moved toward the door that opened with a jingle.

—

Minjeong owed it to Aeri to keep the shop clean and tidy. It was the least she could do considering everything the girl had done for her, so she decided to do it every night. It was helpful anyway, keeping her busy enough to steer her away from thinking. Thinking wasn't bad, but too much hurts – especially if it regarded the past.

The jingle of the store bell snapped her out of her concentration on her duty at hand, the table spot clean from endless rounds of wiping. Who would enter the shop after closing hours? This late at night?

"We're closed," Minjeong said wearily, craning over her shoulder to meet the newcomer. Upon meeting a 'definitely not new' pair of eyes, her whole body stiffened.

"Hi," said Jimin pithly.

Minjeong blinked once, twice, a few times, as if deciphering whether the person in front of her was real or a hologram. Her silence must've drawn out for too long, the latter awkwardly clearing her throat and eyes breaking from their lock to wander around the shop.

"I was walking by and I saw you through the window," she explained, hands bashfully folded in front of her as she swayed her shoulders side to side. "Just thought I'd drop by to say a hello."

Minjeong blinked again. She wasn't one to turn speechless often, but the cat that caught her tongue caught something else – a sensation she couldn't identify. A familiar sensation that sent straight to her heart whenever Jimin appeared before her in a mix of bliss and ache – two ingredients that really shouldn't be together, but always encircled Jimin's whole person.

"I guess I'll be going." Jimin crooked a small smile and pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "See you –"

"Stay." The word tumbled out without warning. "Take a seat. I'll make you a drink."

Jimin hesitated, but nevertheless timidly pulled out the chair beside her as Minjeong set aside her tools and sauntered behind the counter to work the coffee machine. Her heart pounded in her ears as her hands worked on autopilot, flipping on switches and gathering beans.

"What would you like to drink?" Minjeong asked.

"I don't have any money on me," Jimin responded meekly.

"It's on the house." Minjeong chuckled. "It's after business hours, anyway."

Jimin hummed in ponder. "Then a latte, please."

Minjeong wasn't an expert on coffee like Aeri, but the girl did teach her a few tricks, like creating the leaf design. Once the espresso finished brewing, Minjeong added a pinch of sugar – just how Jimin liked it – and topped it off with a latte leaf. Her hands held steady as she tilted the cup and poured the steamed milk, a few delicate strokes up to mold the shape. She smiled at the final result, very much satisfied by her work.

"Wow, you're pretty good at latte art," Jimin commented when Minjeong ambled over and set the cup in front of her. "Your art improved."

Minjeong's lips curled as she took the seat across from Jimin. "A compliment from Yu Jimin? Never thought I'd see the day."

Jimin was sipping the latte, but the small smile behind the cup didn't go unnoticed.

"I didn't know you work in a coffee shop."

"I don't. I'm just taking care of the shop for my roommate."

"Roommate...?"

"Yep." Minjeong leaned back and crossed her arms. "Pretty, itty bitty waist, long legs, dead scalp, met her in college. Name's Aeri."

"Aeri?" Jimin fiddled with the handle of the cup. "So are you and her...?"

"What?"

"You guys..."

Minjeong narrowed her eyes and stiffened a tug from her lips. "What? We're what?"

"You know..."

Minjeong smirked. "What if we were?"

Jimin's eyebrows bolted up and squeaked, "Then I'd be really happy for you of course!"

Minjeong let it linger for a moment, the tease and Jimin's clear awkward demeanor. The older girl's eyes were intensely fixed on the cup as if it was the most interesting thing in the room at the moment. It was amusing and, frankly, quite nostalgic.

"I'm kidding. We're just friends."

Jimin's shoulders deflated, a sign of relief. She tried to control her relief, but even after seven years, Jimin was still terrible at masking body language. Minjeong found that interesting, how the girl was so good at faces, but her body always said otherwise.

"Oh." Jimin gave a small chuckle and a pursed smile. "I see."

They sat in silence for a moment. Jimin was sipping her latte, eyes trained on anything but Minjeong – but Minjeong wasn't as sly, shamelessly staring at her the whole time. If the latter was uncomfortable, she didn't show any signs of acknowledgement. Minjeong had seen the same shop for the past few years, knew it like the back of her hand, and it wasn't everyday that Yu Jimin walked in. What else would she look at?

"What are you doing outside this late at night?" Minjeong broke the silence. "It's a bit dangerous to wander alone."

"I just felt like it. Someone told me taking a walk helps."

"That person must be very wise."

The corner of Jimin's lips tugged. "Must be."

"Then, did the walk help?"

"Yes."

Minjeong eyed the polaroid camera beside Jimin's cup. "Were you taking photos too?"

"Yeah. I thought I might as well."

The camera was still the same: boxy, beige coat, a strip of rainbow connecting the center lens and the slit where the polaroid would print, and in good condition – the same way it looked the first day the girl showed it to Minjeong. It looked like Jimin was good at conserving stuff, too.

But that was the problem. For some reason, everything was still the same: Minjeong, Jimin, her journal, this camera. Albeit seven years, all of them were the same – never new, never changing – a static image, a film on loop.

"What pictures did you take of?"

Jimin placed her cup down, now empty. "The night sky. Not necessarily the sky, but a lamp post angled toward it." She paused. "It's beautiful, the night sky tonight."

"Then, shall we look at the sky together?"

"What?" Jimin's eyes widened. Minjeong was surprised, too, at the words she just uttered. Speaking before thinking; add that to her list of bad habits.

Well, it was too late to back out now.

"I want to see the sky too," Minjeong said airly, her turn to avoid eye contact. "Since you said it's beautiful right now."

"But you're cleaning."

Minjeong waved her hand. "I've been cleaning the same tables the past few days. They should be squeaky clean by now. I think I've got every crumb of biscuits in these cracks and crevices."

Jimin suppressed a laugh and dipped her chin. "If it's okay with you."

Minjeong took the finished latte. "It is. Sit tight, I'll grab my coat from upstairs."

She placed the cup into the sink before heading upstairs through the back. In the dark apartment, she blindly reached for a coat hung on the rack conveniently situated beside the doorway. It was meant to be a quick 'pickup and go', but her eyes caught her journal on the tiled counter, illuminated by the curtained moonlight.

I thought you were going to keep this strictly business, Minjeong. That was the plan. What are you doing right now?

Her feet halted in front of the journal and her hand hovered over the leather, the tips of her fingers aching to caress it – a routine evident by the smoothened paths.

Take it with you. Jot down notes. Do your job. Jimin is a job, your client. Every second with her should be for her biography and nothing else. It's just business. Business only.

Her hand dropped by her side. The clock ticked, every tick heavy and honed as she stared at the journal. When was the clock so loud, so echoey? Perhaps it was time to get a new clock.

Aeri said it already, but why am I still in denial? Minjeong chuckled to herself. She swiveled away and exited the apartment, the journal left cold and untouched in her wake. She couldn't deny her ulterior motive any longer. Her heart had been telling her all along against the constant excuses drowning it out. It was clear, so clear, and she'd been a fool for attempting to cover it up.

Minjeong wanted to see Jimin.

For business was not enough. She thought it would be enough – but her thoughts were always deemed untrustworthy, never good at deciding what's best for herself. Her pace quickened down the stairs, her chest a thumping engine.

After all this time, everything was still the same. Repeating it didn't make it any more true, but she couldn't help the revelation booming in her head.

The door swung open – a tad hard – the wood slamming into the door stopper on the floor. Jimin's head snapped to the loud abrupt sound, alarmed eyes locking with Minjeong's.

I tried to hide it. I really did, but it's so clear. You already know, didn't you? You could always tell how I'm feeling.

Among all the mixed signals she'd probably given Jimin, she was certain about one thing.

I miss you.

After everything.

I don't care.

Because I miss you.

So, so much.

"Is everything okay, Minjeong?" Jimin asked. "Why are you just standing there?"

Minjeong smiled. She closed the door softly in contrast to how she opened it. "Yes. Everything is okay." She jingled the shop keys. "Let's head to nowhere."

—

"You didn't bring your journal this time?" Jimin asked. "It's a good time to ask some questions."

The night was still, absent of any breeze that usually accompanied it. They walked with no hurry, their footsteps falling in and out of sync – matching, unmatching, matching again. With her hands dug into her pockets, the pebble Minjeong was kicking skidded astray into the dark.

"Like I said, it's after business hours," Minjeong said. "I shouldn't work when I don't have to."

"I suppose."

No words were exchanged after that, but that was okay. Silence was the second best communication between them – right behind eyes and just above spoken words. The smooth concrete transitioned to rocky asphalt as they turned a corner into a crooked alley of a neighborhood. Faint light peeked over worn brick walls, casting shadows on the ground that their feet floated through.

"I thought you wanted to see the sky," quipped Jimin, "but you've been looking down this whole time."

Minjeong's gaze broke from tracing a cracked line to Jimin. The brim of her hat shadowed her face, but the brown hue of her eyes glistened from the lamps. Her nose was dusted red and cheeks flushed pink against her fair complexion.

"Was I?" Minjeong laughed. "Sometimes I can't help it. Looking down is easy. Looking up is hard."

Looking back is easy. Looking forward is hard.

"Then look up right now. Nothing is stopping you other than yourself."

Their pace slowed to a stop in an intersection of four paths: up a slope, down the road, straight forward on a leveled surface, and where they just came from. Along with the consistent, steady glow of lamps and cloned, shadowed buildings, they were all the same – but here was Jimin at the heart of the four, eyes laced with a faint urge, a faint plea.

"Look up, Minjeong."

So Minjeong did. She broke away from Jimin's gaze and trailed up from the top of her hat to meet the clear night sky. Rotating on the spot, her eyes traced the littered stars in abstract shapes, passing by the gentle moon, to return to the exact portrait she started from: Jimin against the dark blue, framed by the twinkling whites of the universe.

"You're right," breathed Minjeong. "The sky is beautiful."

—

Her back was laid on the mattress. She faced the sky, the warm hues of evening bleeding into a hazy dusk. The soft breeze passed on the rooftop of her house, a calming sensation that seeped through the cotton of her hoodie and clung onto her skin. Jimin was beside her, in a cashmere sweater, her brown hair fanned out, and staring up at the same sky. She glanced over to meet Minjeong's eyes.

"You don't have to be with me today," Minjeong said. "You should be eating with your family."

"You're crazy for thinking I want to eat with my family." Jimin laughed. "Chuseok or not."

Minjeong chuckled. "Right, but there must be a lot of delicious food on the table."

"It's okay. I like being with you a lot more than delicious food."

Minjeong choked, prompting Jimin's eyes to widen in alarm.

"Are you okay?"

Minjeong pounded her chest and cleared her throat. "Yes. I choked on my saliva."

Jimin giggled and faced back toward the sky. "Parents are so confusing. They want one thing for the children and disregard everything that doesn't fit in their perfect image."

A lump formed in Minjeong's throat. The thing bothering her all day was rising up. Jimin sensed it too, the girl's steady gaze laced with curiosity and concern. She must've been curious ever since Minjeong mentioned her parents that one day.

"Yes," Minjeong said. "They are." She tried to flash a smile to diminish the seriousness of her problem, but it came out more of a sad smile – the type that failed to mask apparent sadness no matter how perfect it was because the eyes always betray it. There was no fooling Jimin, when Minjeong's eyes screamed everything so raw.

She cleared her throat and returned to the sky. The sun was barely above the horizon, and the stars were peeking in the blue.

"Jimin. I like girls."

Minjeong didn't want to look at Jimin, so she fixed her eyes on the faint outline of stars. The girl didn't say anything, so she continued.

"If you aren't comfortable, then it's okay. I understand. It's weird."

There was a pregnant pause. Minjeong couldn't see, but she could feel Jimin staring at her, studying her.

"It's not weird," Jimin finally said. "You're still Minjeong, no matter what. Whoever you like doesn't change that."

Minjeong smiled. Her body felt lighter, her mind clearer. It felt so warm to hear that, the words wrapping around in an embrace. The girl had no idea how much that meant to her. The back of Minjeong's eyes pricked and stung, but she blinked it away.

"My parents said otherwise. There was this girl I liked a few years back. Her name was Sowon. And she liked me back." Minjeong chuckled bitterly. "It was short lived though. We got caught by her mom and she dragged us to church. In front of the whole neighborhood, she forced us to pray." She frowned. "My parents ran over and they defended me. How sweet, right?"

The sun disappeared behind the horizon. The sky turned from golden to dark blue, the twinkle of the stars more prominent.

"They defended me, but not for the right reasons." Her throat began to clog, so she paused to let it settle down. "They insisted I didn't, that it would pass as if it was an illness, that I was too young and naive, that I didn't know any better. But then I asked them, what if it doesn't pass?"

"They said it must. I asked, what if I stay like this forever? I've been a good daughter, so why can't they accept this part of me? What's so wrong about it?"

She laughed. "I think that was the last straw, being that they were already furious for being humiliated in front of all their neighbors. My dad raged, my mom cursed me out, and next thing I knew, I was outside with my backpack stuffed with anything I could fit in it and with no home."

"I lost all communication with Sowon. The whole neighborhood shunned me, so I went to Uncle Jiyoung. He didn't want me either, didn't want to raise a kid. But I told him I'll live in the house like I wasn't even there, so he gave in."

Minjeong broke away from the sky to lock with Jimin's eyes. The moonlight glazed the older girl in a gentle luminescence, her hands tucked underneath her cheek and her small body curled toward Minjeong.

"And here I am." Minjeong cracked a smile. "That's me."

Jimin was silent for a moment before she propped herself up by her elbow, sweeping her hair aside behind her neck. Her palm reached for the back of Minjeong's clasped hands resting on her stomach. It wasn't until Jimin's touch that Minjeong realized she was shaking, her breathing uneven.

"I'll teach you something," Jimin murmured, thumb caressing Minjeong's skin as she leaned in closer. "If you ever feel sad or upset, try this." She guided Minjeong's left hand to her chest, the gentle beat of her heart thumping against her palm. "Breathe slowly like this. In and out like this."

In her demonstration, Jimin's chest rose and fell at a steady tempo. Her nostrils caved in her inhale, and her rosy lips slightly parted in her exhale. Her eyes were closed, and Minjeong found herself falling into the tranquility – breath in, breath out, slowly. Her heart was a rhythm and Jimin was a lullaby, a sweet lullaby.

"Who taught you this?" Minjeong whispered upon opening her eyes. Jimin's eyes fluttered open at the question.

"Joohyun, my personal maid." Jimin shied a smile. "We don't talk much, but when I get upset, she would tell me this."

"Thank you," Minjeong said. She turned her palm to cup Jimin's. "Thank you."

Jimin smiled – not her wide smile – but a smile that was gentle and genuine and crooked her right eye smaller than her left. The night sky was painted behind her, framed by the many blinking stars. There was a lot – an infinite trail that scattered everywhere and led to nowhere, around and around.

But among these scattered paths plastered on the dark blue, all of them led to Jimin. Somehow, Minjeong always found her way to Jimin in the middle of infinity – wherever, whenever.

—

Aeri came back a few days later in a new sweater. Minjeong missed her dearly.

"I kept everything nice and tidy," Minjeong boasted as they stumbled into the apartment with arms full of bags.

"Is that so?" Aeri beamed with one sweep around the room and hugged Minjeong. "Good job. I missed you."

Minjeong returned the hug. "Me too. You should get some rest. The travel back must've been tiring."

Aeri shook her head. "I'm actually pretty energetic right now." She tugged on Minjeong's arm that was reaching for her bags to put away. "Let's go somewhere. You've probably been eating home food the past week. Let's go eat."

"It's alright. Your cooking is better than any five star restaurant and we need to unpack your stuff. Looks like a lot."

Aeri punched her arm playfully, prompting Minjeong to feign hurt with a rub and pout. "You're such a smooth talker. We haven't hung out in a while. Come on! Unpacking can wait."

"Alright, but you're choosing the place."

"Sure. I know a spot."

—

Aeri chose Korean barbecue. The girl definitely knew her spots as a local of this town.

"So what did you do while I was gone?" Aeri asked as she flipped and scrambled the bulgogi on the grill, the satisfying sound of sizzling adding to the calm atmosphere.

Minjeong plucked some kimchi and added it on top of her plate. "Cleaning. I cleaned every corner of our apartment and the shop. It's very relaxing. I should do it more."

Aeri hummed. "No way you've been only cleaning. What else?"

"Why're you so interested? Are you my girlfriend?"

"I was just wondering!" Aeri pouted and plucked some meat onto Minjeong's plate. "You don't really have friends, so I was curious if you even talked to anyone."

"Ouch!" gasped Minjeong. "Speaking of girlfriend, yours dropped by. Yizhuo was worried because you weren't answering your pager."

Aeri's jaw dropped. "Really? Oh no! My pager broke this weekend... what if she thinks I've been ignoring her...?"

"So you didn't deny she's your girlfriend?"

"What?" She turned red in the face in a blink of an eye. "That's not important!"

"I'm teasing you." Minjeong laughed and shoved some lettuce wrapped meat into her agape mouth, much to the girl's dismay. "Don't worry. I told her you were probably spending as much time with your family as possible. She understands."

Aeri chewed angrily, her cheeks puffed like a squirrel, before relaxing. "Okay. I should contact her soon." She threw a glare at Minjeong. "And stop teasing me like that! What else did she say?"

What else did she say? Minjeong blinked at the latter's eager eyes before casting down to her bulgogi.

( "Ah, is that so?" Yizhuo rubbed the back of her neck. "I was worried she didn't want to talk to me anymore."

"Of course not." Minjeong laughed. "That girl is whipped for you."

Yizhuo blushed. "I see."

"Do you want something to drink?"

Yizhuo shook her head. "I'm not here for long. I have another gig to get to in a few minutes, but I wanted to give you this."

She fished into her purse – a different one, but probably equally as expensive – to pull out a small card. How many purses did this woman have? Minjeong took it and identified it as a business card.

"I met with my friend, Yuna. She mentioned that her agency was interested in you and wanted to recruit you to write articles for them." Yizhuo tapped the card with her acrylic. "JYP Entertainment."

"It's in Seoul." Minjeong frowned. "I don't think I can afford commuting back and forth."

"Don't worry about expenses like that. She said they were willing to offer you a dorm." Yizhuo clasped her purse closed. "It's just an offer, so it's your choice. Have you ever been to Seoul?"

"No. I've never had a reason to go there."

"Maybe you should give it a try. It's a beautiful city. It's good to go somewhere new rather than staying in the same town. Personally, it feels like starting a new chapter of a book."

"Thanks, Yizhuo."

"No problem. Think about it."

"I will." )

Minjeong flashed a smile and sipped her soju cup. "Nothing much. We just had small talk and she left for a modeling gig. She's a very busy woman after all."

Aeri's eyes fell in disappointment. "I see." She ran her fingers through her hair and huffed. "What do I do? She's so busy, how will I make it up to her?"

Minjeong pointed her chopsticks at the disheartened girl. "Stop worrying. Yizhuo will definitely make time for you, regardless of her schedule."

"And how do you know that?"

"I just know." Minjeong opened her arms. "I am psychic."

"Whatever." Aeri giggled. "Okay, I trust you."

Minjeong smiled and Aeri moved onto another topic, that being celebrating Chuseok with her family. They laughed at the funny stories, gossiped a little, all the while the business card lingered in the back of her mind.

If Minjeong had to start somewhere, maybe it should be this town. If her journal was too hard to discard, maybe she should try to breathe new air. If everything was the same, maybe she should make the effort to take that step forward – to choose her own path for a change, to look forward instead of back.

____

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