*Moonsun - Moonbyul finds out what Solar means to her one drink at a time

---

 

Moonbyul shuffles across the playground, hands stuck deep in her scruffy jean pockets, uncaring about the fact that there aren’t actually pockets but just ripped holes. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is how fast she can get across the yard. Maybe with the angry scowl on her face she’ll be able to survive through another recess undisturbed.

 

Finding an unoccupied bench near the edge of their allowed play area, she jumps up and settles herself, short legs swinging stiffly from the edge. With a free hand, she flicks off the random pieces of tanbark that have somehow found their way onto the bench, waiting for the half hour playtime to quickly pass.

 

She can see Ms. Esna near the rest of the teachers, already darting an anxious glance her way. Maybe she’ll come over again, give another talk about the importance of making early friendships or enjoying life.

 

So she doesn’t raise her bent head when she hears the crunch of gravel near her. Her well rehearsed ‘I’m fine’ waits at the tip of her tongue, and the fingers of her small hands curl over the bench seat as she rocks on the edge.

 

“Hi!”

 

The bright and cheery voice is not Ms. Esna. Moonbyul slowly looks up, ready to tell the newcomer to ‘go away’, hands curling instead into fists, should the need arise to enforce her words with actions.

 

She is woefully unprepared to meet a smile as bright and cheery as the voice that had greeted her. So different from the crooked, mocking grin of bullies. The unsuspecting warmth loosens her clenched hands.

 

“My name’s Solar. What’s yours?”

 

She’s seen Solar around of course, in the classroom. One of the favorites, of both students and teachers. Friendly. Always smiling. Excited about learning. Picked up after class by equally happy parents.

 

“Moonbyul.”

 

Solar beams again. “Do you want a juice?”

 

She looks at the girl, baffled by the random question. “What?’

 

“I noticed you never bring snacks for recess. My mom gave me an extra capri-sun today, so I was wondering if you’d like it!”

 

“I…”

 

“They’re really good,” Solar giggles. She digs into her paper bag and comes up with the pack and hands it to Moonbyul. “I want you to have it.”

 

Moonbyul sits there, uncertain, with the juice dangling in her grip, threatening to slip from fingers too small to wrap around its width. What in this world is this bubbly, excitable girl in front of her trying to do? A ploy to earn her friendship? Or is it a trap? She knows she cannot compare to the posse that clings to Solar wherever she goes.

 

“Do you not like juice?” Solar’s smile falters, almost as if the very idea of not liking juice is distressing and heartbreaking. She nervously peeks at Moonbyul’s unmoving hand. “Ah! I know!”

 

She grabs at the capri-sun and tugs the straw free from the back, plastic crinkling as she slides it free from the wrapper.

 

“Hold it straight, Moonbyul, ok?” She closes one eye and scrunches up her cheeks as Moonbyul complies. Then with a twitch and a flinch, she jabs the sharp end of the straw into the top of the drink.

 

Slight dribbles of juice bubble out from where the straw is stuck in, spilling a bit onto her hand, but Moonbyul ignores it and looks back up at Solar, bemused by her actions.

 

“Hehe sometimes I can’t poke the straw in right, so the juice goes boom! You have to stick it in really, really fast! It scares me sometimes, but I’ve been getting better at it,” babbles Solar, looking very pleased at her feat. “Try it now! It’s really, really good.”

 

Moonbyul glances down at the waiting straw and takes a hesitant sip.

 

Sweet. It is really sweet. Almost too sweet, compared to anything she’s ever had.

 

“It’s good.”

 

“I told you, right?” Solar gushes as she bounces on one foot to another.

 

Solar’s excitement is contagious. Moonbyul can feel the near tangible joy emanating from her small stature tugging at the corners of , breathing life into muscles long dormant.

 

“I really like it.” whispers Moonbyul. She’s not very used to generosity nor kindness. Already she can see Solar’s usual crew from afar, starting to head towards the two of them with displeasure evident on small, chubby faces. The usual response and attitude that’s always followed her own dirty, worn, heels.

 

She brings her hands into her lap, to hold the juice steady as she stares, tight-lipped, at the cloud of dust that accompanies the approaching crowd.

 

A boy, rather brawny for his age, lumbers over, demanding Solar’s attention. “Stop playing with a loser like her. Come on Solar! Let’s go to the monkey bars! Ms. Esna says recess is almost over!” He subtly kicks a large rock in Moonbyul’s direction and she flinches as it narrowly scrapes her shin.

 

Solar frowns slightly at his words. Turning back towards Moonbyul, she offers her hand. “Moonbyul, let’s go play together!”

 

Pity. Moonbyul knows of pity. After all, nearly every adult she’s ever had the misfortune of meeting wears that mask as a default.

 

But Solar’s is a bit different. Her pity’s a bit stupid, in the simplest sense. And it doesn’t quite hurt as much, even amidst the mass of jealousy and impatience simmering around them. How she’d love to put a damper on the gruff boy’s confident face.

 

She’s not quite ready to face any of it yet though.

 

“No thanks.” She almost takes it back, seeing Solar’s hesitant smile wither and the crowd’s triumphant grin nearly split open cheeks.  

 

Solar looks down and shuffles her feet. “Oh..ok then.” With one last smile, she walks off back towards the playground with her friends, leaving Moonbyul sitting on the bench.  

 

The half crumpled juice pack is in her hand, losing its chill from the heat of her palm. Her shin stings, but she refuses to look and acknowledge the pain.

 

The worldly equilibrium of the playground has returned and she’s once again left outside its peaceful orbit.

 

It’s not too bad though. The sun finally crawls over the tree above her and her knees are bathed in sunlight.

 

She at the straw again and thinks about how right Solar was.

 

It’s still sweet.

 

-----------------------------

 

“!” Moonbyul slams the screen door behind her, but it barely muffles the shriek chasing her back as she storms off into the street.

 

The blistering sun beats down on her and she curses at it. Why does everything have to be against her today? Why does everything have to be against her always?

 

She jerks her black hood over her head and shoves both hands into her pockets in order to hide the pain. Eventually, her stomps recede to scuffles against the pavement as the voice also disappears into the distance.

 

One step at a time. She walks hunched, head bent, eyes scorching more holes into her ripped converses than the sun ever could. It’s not like she has a plan on where to go. As long as it’s away from the screaming. From the crying. From the fighting.

 

At some point--she doesn’t know when--she stops. The sidewalk’s that’s soaked up an afternoon of sunshine bores through the rubber lining of her shoes, straight into her heels that peek from the flaps that barely contain them.  

 

She looks up.

 

She’s in a whole other neighborhood now. The residents give her curious but disdainful stares. One man’s dog even lunges toward her for a second as it and its owner stroll by. There are itchy hands, loose mouths all around her.

 

One old lady seems to be putting a phone to her ear, chewing on her lip as she waits for the dial tone. It could be nothing. But Moonbyul knows that she, with her unnaturally ripped jeans, with her faded shoes, with her worn and torn sweatshirt, is obviously the subject of the call. And if the call is to the local police station--which she is already familiar with--there will be hell to pay when she returns home. If she decides to even return.

 

But it’s not worth the hassle. She spins around and stalks off back in the direction she came from and from the corner of her eye she sees the old lady put her phone down.

 

“Bastards,” she scowls under her breath.

 

Then--

 

“Moonbyul?”

 

The pitter patter of flip-flops behind her doesn’t stop her retreat, but she slows her pace.

 

“Wait up!”

 

She drops her head slightly at the familiar whine to hide the grin that slinks onto her face. Now she knows where her feet have led her.

 

It’s a familiar path, but it’s somehow always different. The thud of her shoes or bare feet against the ground away from home have become a habitual occurrence. But does escape necessarily need a destination? Even if not so, each time her steps are in this direction. They slow in this neighborhood. Back to her.

 

“Heya Solar,” Moonbyul chuckles to the huffing girl beside her. “Let’s run a little more. Your neighbors…yep. You know.”

 

Solar leans, drained, onto Moonbyul’s shoulder and uses it as a crutch as they flee from the judgement of Solar’s neighbors who are clearly thinking, “What in the world is Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s lovely daughter doing with a delinquent like that?”

 

It’s the same faces every time.

 

“Ignore them Moonbyul. They’re always like that.” Solar nudges Moonbyul’s shoulder after they’re free from the prying gazes. “They just like to pick on and gossip about everything and nothing.”

 

“I bet,” she mutters. In the dying light of the sun, she tugs off her hood and shakes her black locks free from the folds. Solar frowns disapprovingly as she tucks strands here and there, trying to bring order to the dishevelled head. Moonbyul lets her.

 

“So.” Solar purses her lips, apparently unsatisfied. “Did you walk all the way again? Did they…”

 

“Yeah.” She finishes the sentence for Solar, noticing how clearly fidgety the girl gets when she tries to mention her ‘household problems’. “I just needed to get out of there. I didn’t mean to come bother you--”

 

“You know I’m here for you,” interrupts Solar. She trails gentle fingers along the ridges of Moonbyul’s brows, wincing.

 

“Is it that bad?” Moonbyul rubs at the spot and feels the swelling bump.

 

“It’ll show. Actually, it’s already showing.” Solar tugs Moonbyul’s hand off and narrows her eyes at the bands of red, blue, and black against the back of her hand.

 

It’s almost like artwork, the strips coloring her pain, muses Moonbyul. Her body the canvas of a costly picture. As the first droplets leak out from Solar’s rapidly blinking eyes, she’s pretty sure it must be a watercolor painting. For Solar’s tears seem to just wash away the pain.

 

“Hey. Don’t cry,” she pleads, trying to angle her head to look at Solar’s bent and sniffling face. “Don’t worry about it! It doesn’t really hurt,” she jiggles her hand and hides her grimace between clenched, smiling teeth, “It’s not too bad.”

 

“You should stay over--”

 

“We’ve talked about this before. Your parents would kill me.”

 

“At least to treat you..” Solar stands up abruptly, idea flashing in her widened eyes. “One sec! I’ll be right back.”

 

Moonbyul watches her dash off and unconsciously cradles the hand that Solar cried on. She wonders how Solar can still cry over her pain. It’s the luxury of an emotion she thinks she’s long lost.

 

She also knows she shouldn’t be so dependent, so reliant on Solar’s care. She shouldn’t always come, expecting her. Even if Solar’s always been there for her when she does come.

 

She doesn’t want to get hurt, but she’s already lost the chance to try and shut Solar out of her bitter, lonely life.

 

She’s been hurt. She is already hurt. However, even without experiencing it, she knows getting hurt by Solar will be worse than any of the injuries that chase her as she stumbles out of her dark household.

 

Without Solar, there may not even be light outside to warm and calm her when she does escape.

 

In no time, Solar’s back with two bottles of tea in hand, interrupting Moonbyul’s dazed thoughts

 

“They didn’t have ice so I got the next best thing from the machine,” she explains as she presses the ice-cold bottle against Moonbyul’s bruised eye. “Does it feel better?” She takes Moonbyul’s hand and lays it on the other side. “There. Twice the ice. I read that for injuries like that, you need to ice the area and rest it, and try to elevate it I think?” she rambles.

 

“You looked up how to treat bruises?” With her good eye, Moonbyul watches Solar carefully, noticing the tremble in the cheeks, the proud smile playing at the corner of , the soft curve of her eyebrows above concerned hazel eyes.

 

“Yeah. I just figured, you know. It’s not the first time.” Solar lets go of the bottle after Moonbyul gets a grip around it. “Don’t forget to drink the tea! I got the extra sweet kind for you. For your sweet tooth--wait why are you crying?”

 

“I’m not,” lies Moonbyul, swallowing the sob she feels rising. “It’s just condensation from the bottle. It’s really cold.”

 

However, she doesn’t try to explain why the trickles of liquid also fall on the un-iced side of her face.

 

When Solar smiles cluelessly at her response and just looks down to snap open the top of her own bottle, Moonbyul darts her tongue out to catch the first of the droplets sliding down her cheek.

 

It’s salty.

But the tea will surely be sweet.

 

 

 

-----------------------------

 

 

 

“We’re graduating.” Moonbyul tugs at Solar’s coat sleeves and drags the unwilling girl toward a brightly lit house with music and laughter pouring from open windows. “Everyone’s going to go off and disappear after high school! This party might be the last time we all see each other.”

 

Last time to see you. That’s what Moonbyul thinks. After all, Solar’s been the constant straight A student with acclaimed universities near begging her to come enroll.

 

She, on the other hand, is pretty sure her transcript of subpar grades is landing her nowhere.

 

Solar’s got a bright future.

 

She wonders if she’ll be able to be a part of it.

 

“Come on! Let’s have fun tonight! You never come to these things,” she complains again, trying to crack open the chipped walls of Solar’s reluctance.

 

“I don’t know, Moonbyul. I don’t think parties are really my thing.” Solar picks at a loose strand on the hem of her shirt. “People there do...this and that. You know what I mean?”

 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Moonbyul assures her with a comforting pat. “There’ll be a lot of familiar people from school. And I’ll be there to help you if you feel uncomfortable and want to leave.”

 

“I guess--

 

“We have to celebrate getting out of here.” She walks backward and decides to play one of her few trump cards. “You and college. Me and,” she spreads her arms out as if to embrace the silhouette of the small town surrounding her, “my escape from this hellhole. Finally.”

 

Solar concedes with a sigh, unable to refuse the anticipation dancing across Moonbyul’s face. She tugs one edge of her skirt downward, making sure she is proper, before following the smoky black leather of Moonbyul’s back into the partying household.

 

The music assaults them immediately when the front door swings open at Moonbyul’s rapid knock.

 

“Woah!” Minhyuk staggers back a bit in mock surprise before lunging forward to wrap an arm around Moonbyul in rowdy welcome. “Didn’t know you decided to come. And wait.” He his head to the side to look over Moonbyul’s shoulder and the heavy air of alcohol permeating his skin wafts between them. “Holy . You got Solar to come too! Class prez~”

 

Moonbyul scowls and knocks away his arm that has reached out towards Solar for a friendly but intimate greeting.

 

“Watch yourself Minhyuk. I told her it would be chill. She’ll leave if you all try to press her, so calm the hell down.”

 

“Aight.” He retracts his hand and turns back towards Moonbyul. “By the way, did you bring it? Some of the people are getting a little antsy.”

 

“Yeah one sec.” She slips a hand into her jacket and comes back out with a rumpled bag. Her attempt to be subtle and avoid Solar’s puzzled stare fails and she can feel the eyes burn into her back. “It’s all here. Now go back. Oh! And tell them to leave Solar alone.”

 

He waves the bag cheerfully but drunkenly as he stumbles back into the throng of guests. “Yeah, yeah. Have a great time guys!”

 

Solar speaks up once he is gone. “What was that, Moonbyul?”

 

“Nothing really. Something I had to return to him. Do you want something to drink?” With a firm but careful hand, Moonbyul leads Solar into the mess to dodge the topic. She nods a gruffs hello to a few more people, avoids a few more gasps at Solar’s attendance, and grabs two cans of beer from a cooler before taking Solar outside onto the less crowded patio.

 

She chuckles at the sigh of relief Solar lets out into the hot summer evening and hands her one of the cans. They head towards the edge of the yard and sit down on a pair of chairs along the fence.

 

“Much better. Much quieter, right?” She winks as she pops open a can and takes a swig. “These bigger kickbacks have too many people sometimes.”

 

Solar is still cradling the unopened can in her hands with unsurety across her face.

 

“What’s wrong?” asks Moonbyul as she leans forward, genuinely concerned. “If you don’t like it, we can leave.”

 

“No, it’s alright. I just…” She frowns and looks down at her hands. “I’ve never drank before. After all, we’re,” she ducks her head and whispers embarrassedly, “underage.”

 

Moonbyul stares in shock for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

 

This. This is the Solar she’s always known. The Solar’s who’s pure, who’s blind-hearted, who’s able to unconditionally look past her faults.

 

It’s the Solar she’s going to miss.

 

“It’ll be ok. Just try it.” She gives Solar a conspiratorial grin. “After all, you are going to college. Better get a taste before you go.”

 

Solar still looks unsure. She puts down the can in her hands and points at Moonbyul.

 

Moonbyul asks, befuddled. “What?”

 

“Let me try some of yours first.”

 

With a shrug, Moonbyul holds out her can, still two thirds full. As it passes hands, their fingers brush over the slippery aluminum surface. Her hand lingers for a bit, unwilling to give up the warm touch of Solar’s hesitant grasp.

 

Will she be able to feel Solar like this again? To walk to school, pissed off after a morning screaming match with her mother, and then fall right into Solar’s open embrace that wraps around her and quenches the anger. To be storming off to god knows where, hatred of the world simmering within her until a familiar arm slips around hers, tugging her hands free from where they’re shoved in her pockets and leading her back to hope. To have those tender hands pull her bent head down after another awful parent-child meeting and lay a pair of eyes b with defiantly withheld tears onto a willing shoulder.

 

Maybe. Solar’s voice delves through the fog of her mind.

 

“This tastes terrible.” Solar appears ready to spit out that small mouthful and tosses Moonbyul an accusing glare.

 

She shrugs. “Never said it’d taste great.”

 

“I’m going to go check and see if there’s anything that tastes better.” Solar stands up after handing Moonbyul back the can.

 

“Want me to come?”

 

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be quick.”

 

Moonbyul’s eyes follow Solar as she disappears back into the lively house, mind still in turmoil over her memories, over the fact that it is a legitimate possibility that this is one of their last few nights together.

 

Solar’s soon back with two red cups in hand, beaming as she hands Moonbyul one of them. Occupied by her thoughts, Moonbyul doesn’t register what is in the cup until she takes a long gulp and her eyes widen in shock.

 

Sweet.

 

“Solar!” She stares, panicked, at Solar who is smacking her moist lips over an empty cup. “What did you--”

 

“It’s good, right? Why did you make me try that crappy beer when they had something like this--”

 

“You…” Moonbyul closes her eyes and sighs in defeat. She mumbles, “Well I didn’t expect you would know what jungle juice is anyways.”

 

After a few minutes, she can already see the red blanketing Solar’s cheeks and her own thinking cloud. She knows it’s getting dangerously close to both their limits, and the thought of having to carry a drunk, passed out Solar home daunts her no matter how much the other girl means to her.

 

“So,” hiccups Solar, eyes trying to focus on Moonbyul. “You’re really going to move out? Away from town?”

 

“The second I turn 18. I’ve got money saved up. I’ve been waiting for 18 years.” She narrows her eyes as her heart thumps within her chest. “You know how much I’ve wanted this.”

 

“Is it really necessary?”

 

“My mom’s only gotten worse since dad left.” With a hollow chuckle, she crumples the plastic cup within her fist. “Even without all the fighting, she’s still permanently pissed 24/7 and takes it out on me if I don’t run off first. Can’t believe that bastard just left without bothering to at least try to help me escape too.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.”

 

A few more minutes of drunken silence pass between them and in the background, the volume of the party gradually decreases as guests leave.

 

Solar opens again. “But what’s it going to be for you after this?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Once you move.”

 

Moonbyul taps her chin. She has thought about it of course. Her secret savings won’t last too long so she’ll probably have to find work. There’s also her extracurricular activities that could help her by, of course, but only as a last resort.

 

“I’ll get a job,” she finally responds.

 

“That’s all?” Solar wears a frown of dissatisfaction. “Have you thought about...maybe...continuing your studies?”

 

The scoff that escapes her lips has an immediate effect of erasing the hope from Solar’s face.

 

“You really think,” she chokes out the words between self deprecating chuckles, “someone like me will be going to college? Have you seen my grades?”

 

“You weren’t trying. You’ve never tried,” argues Solar.

 

“Why would I.” She tilts her head back onto the chair frame and looks up at the stars that are starting to peek out in a darkening sky. “There was no point. You remember when I did well that one test. And then the next day I get dragged to the principal’s to get interrogated about cheating. So as I said, no. ing. Point.”

 

“But it’ll be different once we get out of here. No one we know to judge you.”

 

“It’s too late--”

 

“It’s not!”

 

Moonbyul rocks back in her chair precariously as Solar suddenly stands up, face flushed from either the alcohol or the fervor of her words. The rest of the guests that were in the backyard with them are now gone and Solar’s outburst goes unnoticed. She gazes at the raised bumps on Solar’s arm and thinks about how the night is slowly turning chilly. How it’s ending.

 

“Make me a promise.” Solar’s hands are freezing as she speaks, but Moonbyul doesn’t draw away, too enthralled by the sizzling intensity of her gaze. “To try. To prove--if not to everyone we know--to you, that you’re so much better than what they expect.”

 

Her lips are numbed by the cold, and the words she wants to say barely make it through. “What about you?”

 

“You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

 

Solar laughs in delight, eyes nearly disappearing from view, and Moonbyul swears she has never and will never see nor hear anything so beautiful again. And no, it isn’t the alcohol putting the thoughts in her head or melting her core with tendrils of warmth. It’s Solar.

 

“I already know.”

 

 

-----------------------------

 

Moonbyul fumbles with her bag and rubs at her eyes, which are dry and red from her inability to sleep the night before. The few hours of early dawn were spent restlessly squirming in bed, tossing and turning as she waits for the day to arrive even a second quicker.

 

She checks herself.

 

Hair? Straightened, dirty blond locks with a carefully trimmed row of bangs in front.

 

Pants? White skinny jeans on still lean legs that have filled out since two years ago.

 

Shirt? Plaid fabric ironed to perfection the day before.

 

As she hovers her hands over the topmost button, contemplating whether or not she should leave it ed, doubt flashes across her mind.

 

How different has she become?

 

Has she changed too much?

 

Will she even recognize her?

 

Moonbyul slouches against the front of the cafe, wondering if, for the first time today, that instead of dressing up so much, she should have just stuck to the old sweatshirt and pants that she’s unmistakable in.

 

“Moonbyul?”

 

She looks up at the soft call and her hands fall from their crossed position across her chest to dangle uselessly at her side. Standing a few feet away, biting her lip in worry that she’s misidentified a stranger, is Solar.

 

And boy, oh boy, she wonders if she may have misidentified a stranger too.

 

They say that college changes people. Moonbyul can’t help but find it absolutely true and absolutely false.

 

Their two years apart feels like even more of an impassable wall when the gorgeous beauty that is Solar finally recognizes her clearly and approaches her again with a dazzling smile. Her hair is now a dark brown and flows down her back in soft waves. She’s lost weight. But her body still possesses all the shapely curves defined seductively by her tight top.

 

But the smile is the same. The eyes too. The way they just soften and draw her in whenever she turns to her direction. It seems all the baby fat Solar’s retained are in the squishable cheeks that stretch from a grin so bright it nearly blinds Moonbyul.

 

Moonbyul has no idea where to look to avoid the blush that’s already creeping up her cheeks. So she looks up, hoping that the 1.8 cm of height she has over Solar will hide her reaction. But doing so, she fails to prepare herself for Solar’s full-body tackle.

 

All of her sense are being assaulted, being overwhelmed, and going absolutely haywire by this nostalgic embrace. Her awkward, dangling hands slowly rise back upwards to wrap themselves around Solar’s back and the only thought running through her short-circuited brain is oh god, I’ve missed this.

 

I’ve missed you.

 

“You’ve still got that sweet tooth.” Solar’s eyes follow the practiced motion of Moonbyul’s hands opening packet after packet and pouring the small white crystals into her drink. “Damn, can’t believe you haven’t changed that after all this time.”

 

“Well, it’s a kinda bad habit.” Moonbyul chuckles at the small stack of empty sugar packets by her mug. “But you shouldn’t talk. After all, you were the one to teach me said bad habit. It’s not my fault I can’t stop.”

 

Solar leans forward, arms folded on the wooden surface. “Does it remind you of me?”

 

Yes. Yes it does. Moonbyul’s hands tighten around the handle of her steaming cup of coffee and a slightly forlorn smile makes its way across her lowered face.

 

She whispers, “You’re not exactly easy to forget.”

 

“I’m glad, hehe.” Solar sits back and props her chin in her hands. “I was so shocked when I saw you outside! You’ve changed so much.”

 

“Oh. Is it bad?” Moonbyul frowns.

 

“No! Of course not.”

 

“But you’ve changed so much too.”

 

“Not as much, really.” She wiggles her shoulders playfully. “Not like you. You’ve really grown up. I know it’s such a cliche way to say it, but I don’t know how else to describe it. Like you’ve put your past behind and really moved on. Meanwhile, here I am at college, still as much a kid as before.”

 

“It’s your charm,” Moonbyul interjects. “Makes you approachable.”

 

“What about you? Are you still as shy as before?” Solar lays a hand on top of Moonbyul’s and rubs her palm. It’s a familiar comfort. “Isn’t it different in the city where you worked? With your colleagues, your new friends?”

 

“I do try sometimes. But people have told me my face is kind of intimidating.”

 

Solar rolls her eyes. “Are they blind? How can they say this,” she squishes a portion of Moonbyul’s cheek, “is intimidating? And let me just say, damn. I can’t believe you actually have cheeks for me to pinch now.”

 

Moonbyul feels the fingers brushing her cheek and the subsequent joy spilling from her chest up to her grin, pulling the muscles of her face into a more brilliant smile than any she’s tried to make for the last two years.

 

“Maybe I only smile this well with you.”

 

“Wow. Your compliments sure are smooth. But anyways, best friends reunited!” Solar shakes Moonbyul’s limp hand up and down in excitement. “I almost can’t believe it! You’re going to be going to college with me! I always knew you were hella smart.”

 

“I just tried.” She swirls her near empty cup of coffee, unwilling to drink the last nasty dregs when she can instead just stare, gaze, adore the sight of a bubbly, thrilled Solar in front of her. “Like you told me to.”

 

“We’re going to have so much fun,” gushes Solar. “You’re going to be moving in with me and my housemates. I bet you you’ll get along just fine with Wheein and Hwasa. They’re great people.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I promise. Since you’re coming to school with me, I’m going to make sure your time here is the very best. Oooh. I can’t wait! We’ll do all that great roommate stuff! We’ll go eat meals together, we’ll go study at cafes together, we’ll go grocery shopping together! I’ll save you that seat in lecture, and then you can wake me up when I fall asleep in class!” Solar has her hands clasped together in front of her with a beautifully sheepish grin on her face, as if she’s really spent so much time imagining their future college life together.

 

Together.

 

Moonbyul’s been thinking about everything else they will be doing together. She’s had a stressful two years of balancing a full time job and catching up on a childhood’s worth of studying to successfully apply to Solar’s college. Now she’s in. She’s here. She’s back.

 

They’ll wake up in the same room. She won’t have to run out of a house and across town to visit Solar, whenever her problems get the best of her. She won’t be waking up in a small, single studio, dreading another day of monotonous work and of missing Solar.

 

They’ll cook and bake together. She’ll be able to see if Solar’s improved her cooking beyond that dreadfully salty kimchi fried rice she tried years ago. She’ll finally be free from a life of sandwich lunches and instant ramen dinners. They’ll make a mess of the kitchen, but it will be alright, because Solar will be laughing next to her as they clean up.

 

They’ll watch movies together, sitting on one of their beds, while dialogue blares out of tinny laptop speakers. Maybe she’ll be able to actually enjoy the scenes and feel the emotions that the characters play out on screen. After all, next to her and tucked under the same blanket, will be Solar, who’s the one who taught her all these emotions in the first place.

 

And maybe she’ll finally have someone to talk with. Someone to let out all her troubles to. Someone to understand her. Someone she can trust with her secrets. Except that one confession she might take to the grave.

 

“I can’t wait.” Honest.

 

“I promise you won’t regret this. Oh! By the way.” Solar’s smile turns demure and for some reason, there’s a slight pink tinge on her cheeks as her eyes glaze and focus on something and nothing at all..

 

The blast of the air conditioning suddenly seems to increase.

 

Solar continues with nervous, fiddling hands. “There’s someone else I want you to meet! Maybe after you get settled in to our apartment.”

 

No.

 

“Ooh! Maybe he’ll come help move stuff. That would probably make things a lot faster.”

 

Please.

 

“Well, you’ll meet him eventually, anyways.”

 

Solar giggles and Moonbyul wonders when her drink has turned so cold. She downs the last mouthful and almost gags. Even all the sugar she’s added isn’t enough to mask the bitter grind. But Solar just continues on, naively and painfully ignorant.

“I’m sure my boyfriend will love to meet you.”

 

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