Seungwan is eighteen when she leaves behind all that she has ever known. She leaves with a backpack full of clothes, Jessica’s fingers gently curling at her wrists and mark bared for all to see. She leaves knowing that Joohyun is getting further away with every breath. Jessica teaches her English on the plane and the syllables glide gently between them. The ‘t’ gets caught on the edges of her teeth and Seungwan doesn’t miss the way Jessica’s fingers curl into fists.

Her mother had said she had all the time in the world, eyes dipping down briefly to skim across Seungwan’s hands. Seungwan gives herself a year. 

A year to come to terms with loving Joohyun. A year to accept that Joohyun won’t love her back. She tells herself this could be her reckless youth; her chance to discover, change, and redefine herself. So, when Joohyun sends her messages, and Seungwan knows she will, because she knows Joohyun, she doesn’t send any back. 

They land in San Francisco and then they drive, and drive, and drive. Jessica has a cute little pastel yellow Volkswagen and Seungwan falls in love at first sight. 

They sprawl themselves on the green green grass and watch the sun begin to dip behind the hills. Specks of brown and white move in the distance and Jessica insists that they’re cows. Seungwan thinks that they are hoses. They squint into the distance and agree to disagree. When the sun finally vanishes and the sky stops bleeding gold, Jessica raises her silver-stained fingers to inky blackness and begins to trace constellations. 

The stars here are brighter and the skies clearer than Seungwan thought possible, Jessica tells her that the stars have always been there; that the smog over Seoul hides them from searching eyes. Seungwan thinks that it’s a little sad; being present but never really seen. She dreams about plucking the stars one by one from the sky and forging a crown that matches Joohyun’s eyes. 

It’s not Disneyland or Disneyworld, Jessica says, but Seungwan still thinks it’s something out of a dream. There’s a line of stalls selling deep-friend everything, games that are impossible to win, smiles on every face, and a Ferris wheel looming above it all. She intertwines their fingers and drags them both into the festively-lit night. Seungwan learns that candy corn isn’t what she thought it was, that candy apples are never worth the mess, that her cotton candy dissolves in the rain. 

 They kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel when the fireworks ignite. The night is magic and the view is blessed, but nothing sparks between them and she knows exactly why. She learns that Joohyun is less like a memory and more like a ghost. It’s less remembering and more haunting, and all she wants to do is forget. 

 There’s ghosts between them, ghosts in their minds, a ghost with silver hair and a ghost with pretty eyes. 

 She leans against Jessica’s shoulder, feels an arm wrap around her waist. Slender fingers tap against her hip and Seungwan knows that those fingers glint silver in the moonlight. She knows that there’s a purple brand on her skin. She knows that there’s ten letters and a single name and pain, pain, pain. This is them running away. This is a detour, a deflection, a distraction from the painful truth. They agree to not share anymore kisses. There might not be sparks, but they both agree that friendship will keep them warm enough. 

 When they do go to Disneyland, they find the gates locked and the attractions closed. Seungwan shrugs and Jessica laughs. They buy key chains, take a commemorative photo and  then continue on their way. Seungwan hangs one on her bag and safely stores the other away.

Jessica’s sister is throwing a party and they’re both invited. Seungwan loses herself in the music, loses Jessica in the crowd, loses her inhibitions after deciding to let loose. She loses her shirt and loses her jeans when she finds a pretty girl with kisses that she drowns in. She wakes with an ache in her arms and ponding in her skull. She wakes with an arrow heart etched onto her bicep and next to no regrets about last night. 

Jessica find her alone in the tangled sheets. She laughs and laughs and laughs and she asks her who Wendy is. Seungwan doesn’t remember much. But what she remembers is enough. A vivid scrawl of foreign blue. ‘I’m Wendy,’ she says, and Jessica laughs some more. She laughs because she doesn’t understand the words like Wendy does.

Jessica’s sister has a streak of colour that cuts across her eye. It shimmers in the light and Wendy makes out the letters that come as no surprise. Wendy and Jessica’s sister dye their hair blonde as Jessica snickers in the back. When the bleach stings at her scalp, Wendy think it feels a lot like rebirth. 

They head out to the bar in a city that never sleeps. Someone tells Wendy to go back where she came from and she tells them to off. Everyone slaps her on the shoulder when he slinks off into the night. They head to a bar with a karaoke stage and Wendy sings her heart out. She sings that she wants to dance with somebody and they all take turns twirling her across the stage. The streets are silent and neon when they finally leave. Rat and pigeons scuttle in the night. Wendy holds their hands tight and they dance their way to the nearest taxi. 

Jessica drives them back. They drive through fields, they cut through forests, they get stuck in the mud. They stop by a tattoo parlour and get some ink done. Daisies for Wendy and stars for Jessica.  When they finally make it back, Jessica’s yellow car isn’t that yellow anymore. 

Jessica thanks her on the plane. Thanks Wendy for being there, thanks Wendy for indulging her, thanks Wendy for showing her that no matter how fast or how far she runs, some things cannot be changed. She gives Wendy her guitar and tells her to keep it safe. Jessica says that she’s going to go chase her dreams now that she’s brave.

Wendy returns home to leaves of red and gold. It’s autumn now and she wonders if daisies still grow.

She knocks on Joohyun’s door. When Joohyun answers, Wendy dangles the keychain in her face. Wendy knows she can see band of lavender, see her name etched onto Wendy’s skin. 

Wendy doesn’t know how to say it. Doesn’t know how to tell Joohyun that she ran from all of this; ran from her feelings, ran from her fear, ran from the thought of Joohyun never loving her back. She’s braver now, surer now, someone completely new. But she still loves Joohyun and knows that it’s her name written in blue