Seulgi climbed the steep stairs of the metro and found herself in a world of color again. She had just been dropped off from Vieux-Montréal—a very quaint and beautiful European style neighborhood filled with creams and ancient yellows, with warm brown tiles tacked politely on roofs, and stark black that trimmed doors and windows along the street—and headed out into the vibrant world of her current habitat, the Quartier Latin.  Another early morning was almost over and she was glad to be back in the crisp air of this remarkable part of town. This place so gorgeously painted like a quirky expressionist piece of artwork. Greens filled this canvas of apartments and stores, and alongside the verdant walls were reds and blues. Around the corner was the most curious shade of purple and Seulgi longed to figure out its name. The neighborhood buzzed as people walked to work, set up stands, and bustled towards breakfast. Breakfast sounded inspiring right about now, and she would find it soon enough. She couldn’t decide between pancakes or waffles, but bacon sounded like a correct answer to go alongside whatever she would eventually choose.

She felt quite alive in this environment, her mind seemed clearer, her finger seemed sure of themselves when it clicked the shutter button. This feeling excited her, made her feel supremely happy. But really, the truth was that she felt comfortable here, truly comfortable, the free spirit in her longed to roam and this town afforded her that luxury. She was an unknown, a traveler amongst many. It made her feel small, it made her feel lovely. There was no ladder to climb here, or chores of celebrity to master. The only thing she needed to do was simply to be and see what the day brought. She felt free and happy in her skin. She wished Wendy was here to see her smile, she wished Wendy was here to kiss her and feel this freedom with her.

The early start had rewarded her with striking photos and the rest of the day off and she was glad for it.  Getting up to see the sun peak over the horizon and a photo shoot in the cobblestoned streets of Old Montréal  was really a reward when she thought about it. Seulgi worked hard, but the surroundings she was lavished in made everything easy. Sleep was important but this atmosphere was gorgeously lit and she couldn’t find it in herself to stop taking photos. The city was her muse. Her smile was like the sun—This is what she wished Wendy could see— and she reveled in the day as she thought about how lucky she was. And now that her job was through for now she was ready to take up exploring again as she had earlier in the week.

Food First. Her stomach rumbled, the bacon called to her.

Site-seeing second. She needed a map, or a guidebook.

Hotel third. Prepare for the evening, she needed night shots, but these would be for her own pleasure and she looked forward to that.

Scratch that. Call Wendy first.

She took out her phone and dialed Wendy’s number, wanting to talk before it got too late on the other side of the world.

-----

Wendy, nervous and excited, sang her five-song set at the bar and finally, after a round of applause and whistles all round, she bounced over to where Irene, Joy, and Mrs. Park were sitting. Her eyes were wide with excitement and her cheeks were tinged with pink from the effort she’d made on stage. She sat in the place they’d all deemed “Seulgi’s Seat” and glanced at each pair of eyes that were staring back at her.

“Any good?” She asked her friends in the booth, “Be honest.”

“Fantastic,” Irene said.

In Wendy’s pocket, her phone vibrated and rang but she couldn’t feel nor hear it.

“I had a couple of minor issues,” Wendy said, “But I don’t think anyone noticed.”

“We didn’t,” Joy said as she sipped her soda.

“No drinks for anyone tonight?” Wendy asked.

“No drinks,” Mrs. Park said, “We’re in a soda kind of mood, plus we wanted to be fully alert for your set.”

“Now that the gig’s over, I may have to indulge in a soda as well,” Wendy said. The others smiled at her.

“Waiter,” Mrs. Park yelled, “Another round of sodas for the ladies, a ginger ale for this old lady.”

The older waiter nodded and took off into the back.

Joy laughed, “Looks like you’ve got him wrapped around your finger Mrs. Park.”

Irene chuckled, “Definitely.”

“All in a day’s work,” Mrs. Park said.

-----

Seulgi had placed her phone back in her jacket pocket when Wendy didn’t pick up and was ready to go get food but as she walked a bit closer to the center of the neighborhood something in her brain convinced her to try Wendy’s phone again. She knew that everyone was most likely still at the bar, so she didn’t fault Wendy for not answering, but knew that one more attempt wasn’t going to hurt before she resorted to text messages.

-----

By some miracle, and even through the loud bass of the next performer on stage, Wendy felt the buzz in her pocket and pulled her phone out as quickly as she could. They had been deep in conversation about their favorite desserts but as Wendy looked at the screen, she immediately forgot about her favorite cake and her eyes widened once more—as they had earlier—with recognition that it was Seulgi on the other end of the phone. Needless to say, she quickly picked up.

“Hello?”

A muffled voice came through the phone, but Wendy couldn’t understand a word. Definitely Seulgi, but the sound system was not cooperating at the moment.

“Baby, I’m in the bar,” she explained, “Let me go outside so we can talk. It’s hard to hear you.”

“K,” the muffled voice replied.

“Is it Seulgi?” Irene asked as Wendy got up from the table.

Wendy nodded and smiled, “Be right back.”

-----

“I’m here,” Wendy said as she exited the bar and pulled her jacket tightly around her. The street was quiet in comparison to the inside of the bar, calmer and much brighter. The lights of Seoul could always be counted upon when needed.  A sweet smell like fried dough permeated the air and stuck in Wendy’s nose.  Two streets over, several vendors were still catering to the late night crowd that had rushed into the bars and shops in the area. They needed sustenance—any form would do—in order to dance the night away. The smell—to Wendy—was overly sweet, too sugary. She craved lips basted in chapstick and the tang of a sweaty neck, the delicious flavor of collarbones deeply cut like tiny sculptures and covered with tantalizing skin. They were just waiting waiting to be bitten and lavished. That was her preferred dessert—Seulgi— and she sighed to herself realizing it would only be a wish until the long awaited return of her lover.

Bonsoir, mon amour,” Seulgi said, interrupting Wendy’s lusty thoughts.

She recovered her wits and answered in French, “Pourquoi est-ce que tu as parlé la langue de français avec moi?” She smirked knowing Seulgi wouldn’t understand.

“Cannot Compute,” Seulgi volleyed back in a robotic voice.

Wendy laughed, “Getting used to Montréal, sweetie? You’re using French and everything.”

“Yes,” Seulgi chuckled, “I really am. This city has put me in a great mood, as has your y French reply.”

“I’m glad you’re in a good mood, and glad that my high school French lessons could finally be of service. I love the city too, but it’s been a while since I’ve traveled there.”

“I’d like to come back here with you and stay a while, it’s a very welcoming place,” Seulgi said.

Wendy felt her chest ache with something that felt like sadness, “I know.”

“And it’s beautiful. Old Montréal is gorgeous in the morning light, and there’s so much to do and see. It feels open and lovely, inviting,” Seulgi recounted, her voice desperate and charming all at once as she described how she felt, “And the colors here are amazing, really pure and interesting. There’s hardly any neon. I can see the stars in some places at night when I walk around.”

“That’s an awesome description,” Wendy said, “I think you’re in love.”

“Oh I am,” Seulgi answered, “Madly.” The real meaning behind her words not lost on Wendy’s keen mind. Seulgi meant she was madly in love with her, but she need not say it aloud, they both knew.

They paused and let the moment settle, then Seulgi spoke again with even greater fervor, “Do you think you’d like to live somewhere like this with me? At least for a while?”

“You seriously love it there, don’t you?” Wendy said, she smiled at the way Canada was treating Seulgi, it made her feel good, the sad feeling was ebbing away, replaced by contentment.

“I do,” Seulgi admitted, “I’d like to stay longer than a week next time, though.”

“I’ll go wherever you are,” Wendy explained, “You know that, right?”

“I know, I’d like to see the stars with you  but I’m not talking a permanent change…well not our location anyway,” Seulgi said, speaking declarations and poetry to Wendy’s ears. The simple statement at the end made Wendy’s heart fuzzy and warm. The location wouldn’t be permanent but they would be. Seulgi continued, “I’d miss Seoul and my family, but we’d be closer to yours. I’d love to spend time with them.  Maybe…we could stay here. I think we’d be happy.”

“I think we would too,” Wendy whispered, “You’re very sentimental. Everything alright?”

“Yes,” Seulgi replied, “Just dreams and things.”

“I’ll add it to our travel list. Montréal. I’ve made a mental note.”

“Okay,” Seulgi hummed, “Enough about me, how was your gig?”

“It went great. It was fun, and I got paid,” Wendy said, “And I’m only drinking water tonight.”

“I’m glad…about all of it.”

“…Seulgi?”

“Yes?”

“I have dreams and thing too, and they’re not far off from yours,” Wendy explained.

“I’m glad,” Seulgi said again, “Especially for that.”

“Montréal in Autumn sound like a fine dream. Want me to meet you there next year?” Wendy asked.

“Yes,” Seulgi breathed.

“I’ll meet you and we’ll live there and not have a care in the world.”

“We’ll be free?”

“We’ll be free,” Wendy repeated.

Silence crinkled though the phone in the form of static.

“Seulgi, I know we don’t talk about this much, but living where we live now makes me happy too. Even after the reasons I gave up my job. Even after people take pictures of me around town. Even with the pressures that we face, I have you don’t I?”

“Of course you do,” Seulgi said.

“That’s all I need.”

“Can we still go to Montréal next year, though?”

Wendy laughed, “Yes we can still go to Montréal next year. We’ll pretend we don’t know each other when we land, and have a romantic rendez-vous where all your favorite colors reside.”

“Good, there’s this one shade of purple that I can’t quite figure out.  I’ll need your help.”

“Okay.”

“May I ask you one more thing?”

“Sure,” Wendy said.

Seulgi spoke, her voice curious, “What does ‘It’s lit’ mean?”

“What?” Wendy practically yelled. If she’d had water in she would have spit it out.

“It’s lit.”

“Where did you hear that?” Wendy asked.

“I was taking photos in an old record shop, and someone in there said it, a kid talking to the owner. I think it was about a band or something.”

“Umm, it’s like something good is about to happen to you, something exciting, like us going to Montréal next year. That will be lit,” Wendy explained.

“Oh.” Seulgi said simply.

“You’re so odd,” Wendy said.

“Am I?”

“Yes, but I love it. I’ll have to put slang in our English lessons for when you get back.”

“Good idea,” Seulgi chuckled, “I’ll anticipate that.”

Wendy laughed and bundled tighter in her jacket, and her teeth chattered. it was getting colder out as she talked with Seulgi.

“Are you okay?” Seulgi asked. She’d somehow heard the sound of Wendy’s shivering body.

“Yes, it’s a little cold outside,” Wendy replied.

“You need to head back in,” Seulgi said, “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I know, but I love talking with you.”

“I agree, but head back inside with our friends and get warm for me, please?” Seulgi practically begged.

Wendy let herself be convinced.

They talked for a minute more before they said their goodbyes.

“Good night, baby,” Seulgi whispered, “I love you. Text me when you get home, I want to know you’re safe.”

“Good morning, baby,” Wendy declared, “I love you too, and I’ll text you as soon as I get to the apartment.”

-----

When the call was finished, Seulgi walked around the streets, got that breakfast she wanted and finally received a text from Wendy saying she’d arrived safely.

Wendy: Home, we stopped and got apple cider at a stand before we went to the car.

Seulgi: That sounds good. I’m glad you’re safe. Did you warm back up?

Wendy: Yes. I’m warm. The cider helped.

Seulgi: I’ll remember that.

Wendy:  8)

Seulgi: Sleepy?

Wendy: A bit, but I want to chat more.

Seulgi: You need rest.

Wendy: Where’s your next location?

Seulgi: Iowa.

Wendy: It’ll be cold there for sure, you need to keep warm too.

Seulgi: I may have to get a bigger jacket then.

Wendy: What are you shooting?

Seulgi: Can’t tell you…it’s a secret. I’ll update you when I get there though.

Wendy: Alright.

Seulgi: It’s your bedtime. Rest up and we’ll talk tomorrow, k?

Wendy: Okay, Ily.

Seulgi: Ditto.

-----

After breakfast and texting, Seulgi perused a few shops, picked out a new postcard for Wendy, then headed back to her hotel to change and rest a bit before dinner. The orange glow of the sun hit her as she went back out to eat again, and after that meal she decided to go get dessert as well and to write Wendy while she was there.

In the dessert bar—a place she’d stumbled upon earlier in the day—Seulgi sat in a secluded corner and retrieved the postcard from her bag along with a pen. She settled into her seat and then began to write.

Wan-ah,

What’s up with us and dessert? I’m sitting at a really trendy dessert bar right now and I’m waiting for my order to arrive. Don’t worry though, I’ve already eaten dinner, a greasy, delicious burger and those fries that are famous here in Canada. The ones with gravy and cheese curds? You told me about them so I had to try them out. Verdict: Yummy. I’m indulging today but tomorrow I’ll eat healthy. I promise you.

A few hours ago we were on the phone after your gig. I was so glad to talk to you, and I wish I could have been there for you at the bar as well. I know you did so well, like you always do. Be confident, alright? You’re the best singer I know.

I’m sure you’re asleep now, and maybe the excitement of the night has made you tired. I hope you get enough rest, because I know how lonely it can be to be without someone. I hope you’re eating well too. We’ll both be healthy for one another, okay?

On the way here to the dessert bar, I walked through a park and saw a couple on a picnic. The weather has been chilly but nice, and the sun was bright. I want to do that with you soon, but first, we’ll need to invest in a picnic basket and checkered blanket. We’ll need it to be authentic, right? The food wouldn’t have to be fancy, peanut butter and jelly would suffice. It would make your lips taste sweet when I kiss you—not that they need help being sweet. Do you like strawberry or grape more? I’m a strawberry jelly girl myself, but we could compromise…maybe raspberry or blackberry? Whatever makes you happy I’ll do, even something as small as the choice of jelly on our PB&J.

Loving you is serious business to me, and I’m seriously contemplating living here, anywhere where we can just be Seungwan and Seulgi. Doesn’t that sound nice?

It’s an enticing thought.

--Waiter’s back, one second.

My dessert’s just arrived and it’s delicious. Really tasty. I’ll need to remember this place for us later.

I’m looking forward to the day that you’re my dessert again. Nothing is sweeter or can compare to you. I can’t wait to see your pink cheeks, warm from our efforts in bed, and your eyes, those beautiful eyes. They literally sparkle. My God I’m in love. I’ll tell you every day for the rest of our lives.

Sweet dreams,

Your Seulgi.

----

That's 3, chapter four is on it's way next.

I want to send a big shout out to my friend @ironbunneh who made an awesome, amazing piece of artwork for this story. If you want to check it out, go to my twitter page @snapshotsandink. It's the pinned tweet at the top. It's really amazing and I'm so thankful! Go check it it, it's honestly so cool.