On Thursday, the turquoise day, Wheein and Byulyi didn’t meet. Byulyi had spent the entire day at the recording studio, having an intense meeting with some music composers and producers for a certain girlgroup’s album production. Meanwhile, Wheein had gone shopping with Hyejin. Accompanying Hyejin to go shopping might be a better description.

Thursday had always been a special day for Byulyi, with or without her noticing. Ever since Wheein happened, Thursday had somehow become a sacred day. A day that, even during the eight years of Wheein’s absence, always succeeded in making her spend some good moments thinking about a certain girl. A certain girl who belonged to her past. A certain girl who had become her first love, her first kiss, her first heartbreak, her first in almost everything.

That Thursday, when Byulyi spun her pen around her fingers, the heated debate between the company’s producer and a famous music composer like indecipherable noises for her, she again, thought about a certain girl. A certain girl she wanted to be her last.

Can we meet later?

Byulyi hastily sent the text message. She had spent the last 3 days with Wheein, but it was not enough. Not enough time, she had thought to herself. She needed to convince Wheein to stay. And if she couldn’t, then time spent without Wheein was time wasted.

The reply came almost an hour later – and the argument still went on even then that Byulyi thought about sneaking out for a break.

Sure! What time will you finish? Hyejin is killing me T__T

Byulyi chuckled to herself. She too, was once a victim of Hyejin’s shopaholic tendencies. Hyejin could take them to an unstoppable journey of venturing 20 different outlets in five hours and even then, she would still have the energy to take a look into another shop.

9 PM. I’ll pick you up.

Byulyi drummed her fingers against the wooden table. The last thing she wanted was the meeting to be extended because of a debate over a title.

“We’ll decide on that later as the song is built. We can just continue putting the arrangement together for the time being, no?” Byulyi eventually spoke up, voice calm and the others eventually agreed to proceed. She breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Where do you want to take me?” Wheein asked as Byulyi’s motorbike sped up, swiftly overtaking a car at the left lane. Byulyi didn’t answer. Instead, she took a turn to the left, away from the main road. ‘She would notice the road,’ Byulyi had thought. There were a lot of places in Seoul in which Wheein had forgotten the exact location, but Byulyi was sure Wheein remembered this one.

Because they had annually visited the place since 10 years ago, every December of 22nd.

And Wheein did, of course. But she hadn’t expected Byulyi to take her there that day. They climbed down from the motorbike and Wheein still couldn’t peel her gaze away from the sight in front of her. It used to be very crowded there. With kids, families, couples. Wheein didn’t know if it was still as crowded at normal time – which was definitely not at a weekday’s night.

Then, she thought the place used to be more colorful. At night, neon lights of every possible color known to human would envelope every ride, every bench, everything she took a step in. It was almost dizzying, seeing that much colors.

But that night, Wheein and Byulyi stood at the front gate of the amusement park, and only four colors – that people like Byulyi could see – were present. Yellow in the center, white for the arms of the wheel, red dominating the cart, and some blue here and there.

It was Thursday night when Byulyi took Wheein to the amusement park. A “closed” sign at the entrance gate, a security guard who unlocked the gate at the sight of Byulyi, and a ferris wheel being the only ride lit on.

“Is it not supposed to be closed at 9?” Wheein asked when they walked in, smiling in gratitude to the security guard. She remembered on Byulyi’s 18th birthday, when they went together there, spending the whole day trying every available ride until it was dark and the announcement that the place would be closed in 5 minutes. It was past nine and they were the last visitors to leave.

“It is.” Byulyi nodded, casually shoving her hands in her pocket.

“Did you somehow buy this place?”

“What? No! I’m not rich enough for that,” Byulyi laughed.

The meeting with the producers had ended up at 7 PM and Byulyi had excused herself from a dinner gathering her senior lyricist had suggested. She then rode toward the amusement park to ask – which turned to beg and later turned to bribe – the guard to let her in that night. The guard finally agreed. There was not much visitor that day, like any other days, after more amusing amusement parks and entertaining entertainment centers had spread in the city like rash. That was admittedly Byulyi’s first time going there after 8 years.

Like every other place she used to hang out to with Wheein.

A friendly-looking officer had waited for them, opening the gate to access the ride. Byulyi noticed it was still the same officer. A man, probably in his 40’s, with small eyes and thin figure and unfaltering smile.

They were silent when they had seated inside the cart as the officer closed the door.

“Keep us up a bit longer at the top,” Byulyi told the officer and Wheein didn’t ask why.

The cart moved slowly up, the creaking sound of hinges was audible. The night view of Seoul slowly appeared by their eyes. It was a magnificent view, really, but none of them bothered to look. Each of them had their gaze on the other.

“It’s not your birthday.” Wheein said. Softly. As if they were in a vulnerable state and if she had voiced it out any louder, the ferris wheel would collapse along with everything between them.

“I know.” Byulyi said.

“But we can pretend.”

It was an unspoken tradition between them, when they were still in high school. That they would come there on Byulyi’s birthday and rode the ferris wheel before they went home. It had been snowing on Byulyi’s 19th birthday and they ended up watching the thick snowflakes from a merchandise shop.

“We should just go home…” Byulyi said, glancing around at the slowly deserted area. The amusement park was originally less crowded on winter than it was on summer, but as the snow started to fall in the evening, people had started to leave.

But Wheein pulled Byulyi’s hand and half-ran toward the ferris wheel.

“After this.” She said.

The wind was howling that it roared in Byulyi’s ears. It was worse when they had reached the top. A lot of snowflakes had caught up in Wheein’s hair, causing it to look damp. Byulyi had reached out to dust some flakes off Wheein’s coat but the latter caught her hand and pulled the birthday girl closer before pressing her lips against Byulyi’s cold ones.

It was a chaste kiss but it lasted long.

The winter weather was freezing and Wheein’s lips felt cold. The snow wetted their coats and thick white smokes were