life is black and white and gray and brown. friendship is orange and pink and yellow and violet. sohee is skin of paper and lines and ink residue. tae is hair of cotton ca

Yoongi boarded the train to Seoul, his beaten-up leather wallet and a chipped violin the only objects in his possession. . . . A boy with eyes littered with stars squirmed across and three seats to the right of him. A thumb balanced between two perfectly sculpted, trembling lips.

Jimin is about ninety-nine percent sure that his next door neighbor is certifiably, inarguably insane. or, Park Jimin moves into his new apartment and almost immediately gets hi

She looks down at her hands, twiddling her thumbs. She gazes at the couple in front of her with envy. "No." She tells herself. "That can't be you."

Sohee looked out the window, and sighed. She set down her crayons and lazily listened to the teacher. "Okay Class! We are doing something special." Ms. Park announced. Sohee rose her eyebrows in interest. "Pen Pals"