There was no other sound but the tiny wind at the cusp of their ears. It was a bit hot tonight and they were there at the balcony, sitting on a bench beside each other. They were looking at the sky—not really that they wanted to gaze at the stars because there were none, but because they simply wanted to stare at something new. Something new in their world full of nasty and unhealthy mixture of too bright colors and fancy complicated designs.  

For them, purity is a breath of fresh air. It always was. 

Krystal flickered her eyes on the young male, his hair damaged from too much dying and hair sprays, his eyes still having hints of the dark eyeliner and heavy shadows. For Krystal, seeing the handsome male like that was a privilege, because at this moment he could only see purity in him, way different from the hiphoppish heavy metal image of the boy. 

“So, what are you thinking about?” Krystal mumbled. 

Jongin looked at her, and his ever-there smirk was his first response. “Nothing.” 

“Nothing?” she smirked back. “You can't think of nothing. People always have something in their mind. So maybe I can rephrase, what’s on your mind?” 

“Nothing.” 

She did not ask again. She knew her labelmate. He was someone who has lots in his mind, lots and lots that he couldn't have the time to practice expressing them. He was a man of dreams. And he had lots of it. 

They filled the air with longer silence. It was music. The nothingness was music, and yet again, something new. 

Jongin spread his arms on the bench and tapped his index finger on the tip of the wooden incliner. He stared at that one dot of faint silver light hanging in the sky, and he breathed the midnight air. At this time he realized that he didn't have a dream anymore.  

No—he still had his dream, and he was actually living it now. 

As someone who wanted to know more about the hardworking person beside her, she asked, “what's your dream?” 

How timely, Jongin mentally remarked. He was also thinking about that very same word. Dream.  

“I don't have a dream,” he blankly said. 

“impossible,” she muttered. “all people have dreams.” 

“I used to dream a lot,” Jongin admitted, “but all those just got crushed. Crushed by reality. The reality that I can't really reach them.” 

They stared at each other-- long—and no words came further. 

“ But…” Krystal uttered, “you must not give up.” 

She filled the next seconds with silence, observing how the male would react, only to receive another blunt face from Jongin. 

So after the still air she just asked him, “don't give up on your dreams.” 

Jongin preferred the opposite. Why not just give up the things that could not really happen for something that he already had now. “I think it's better to give them up for something more.” 

Krystal squinted with his statement. Jongin smiled, inhaled noisily, and started explaining. 

“In life, you just do what you want. If you want to write now, write. If you want to dance, dance. Just do what drives you crazy now. You don't need to fill your head with dreams that you can never reach like that star,” and he pointed at the lone dot above. “Now, I prefer just doing what I want, and letting fate do what it wants for me.” 

“My mistake was,” Jongin continued, “I dreamed too much, too much that I forgot that I was actually living the best dream I could have. My dream now is to have more nights like this. Peaceful, silent, wonderful. Isn't this the best?” 

Krystal gazed at the star as well, and realized that indeed, this was the best. Not just because of the simplicity and the calmness, but also because of the person beside her. 

Jongin, meanwhile, gazed back at the star beside him, and at this moment he was setting the most beautiful dream ever: to be with Krystal for the rest of his life.