2.1

CRIME

“When it comes to you, there’s no crime.

Let’s take both of our souls and intertwine.”

David Guetta ft. Justin Bieber – 2U

It was midterm week and Byulyi had been going nowhere but the college's library – which was cramped by other students – and her flat room. Yongsun was not a lazy student either, she always made sure to spare decent amount of time to study and ace the test, but Moon Byulyi, in her opinion, was on another whole different level.

"My intelligence is not gifted," she once stated to Yongsun, when she complained about the ungodly hours Byulyi spent with her textbooks.

Byulyi's face was entirely drowned in the old yellow-ish pages of history book, next to Yongsun who was sleeping with an English dictionary as her pillow, when a girl approached her table.

"There'll be a party this weekend. You coming?"

Byulyi tore her gaze away from the small font of texts and it took her a dizzying second to make out of Namjoo's face.

A party. She was not a party person. Would never be a party person. The last party she went to was a wedding party of her aunt when she was still in high school and she was more than sure this party was nothing like that one.

"No, thanks. I have to study," Byulyi politely rejected. Yongsun shifted in her sleep.

Namjoo furrowed her eyebrows into a frown. Apparently, rejection was not what she expected when she went passing across the lines of tables, all occupied by students who aimed for A’s for the exam. She, herself, would be greateful with a C if it meant she could just take extra naps and maybe watch more movies. (Or maybe some things just naturally had different values to each beholder).

"Wheein will be disappointed," she shrugged.

And that sure got Byulyi's attention.

"Wheein?"

Namjoo almost couldn't hide her grin.

"Yeah, she'll be the host of the party." 

"And she's been hoping that you'll come." She added.

Byulyi glanced down to her book. Yongsun had woken up, bewildered at the sight of Namjoo in front of her. Ever since the cafeteria incident, there had been a lot – too much – encounters with the art major girls and each time, she still couldn't seem to adjust. Maybe it was like seeing bugs. Once you despised them – or feared them – no matter how many times you saw them, you'd still run away.

"I'll think about it," Byulyi mumbled, and her attention went back to the boring texts. Namjoo walked away and Yongsun watched as her figure disappeared from the library.

"Think about what?" Yongsun whispered loudly – which was ironic. Her locks were messed up and her eyes were still heavy with sleep.

Byulyi didn't stare back at Yongsun. Her eyes were nailed on the word "continent" without actually reading it before she eventually put down the thick book to look at her confused friend.

"Are you busy this weekend?"

Yongsun was not busy on weekend. If anything, she had busied herself pacing back and forth from her closet to the full-body mirror in her room. She had been excited for the party. Yongsun was always the loud type, the social butterfly who could just come at a group and fit in very easily. Byulyi, on the other hand, was not totally sure if she wanted this.

The usual run-down of Byulyi's weekend:

1. Waking up slightly later than usual
2. Breakfast and morning exercise
3. A bit more of exercise because hey, it's weekend! Why don't we run more miles?
4. Healing-reading
5. Actually, a binge-reading until it's past midnight
6. Brew some good cup of coffee because a girl needs her caffeine to continue reading
7. Maybe accompanying Yongsun hanging out somewhere if she's in the mood

And Byulyi, now in Yongsun's room, watching her friend going over the same dress three times, was not sure if she would like to sacrifice her regular weekend heaven to a confined loud place with too many people and air smelling like alcohol.

"Maybe not many people would come," Yongsun reasoned out. "It's mid-term week, and not everyone likes Wheein, either."

Byulyi was helping Yongsun with the zipper.

"Then why are you so excited to go?"

Yongsun giggled as she examined the little black dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

"The art major girls threw the best party, Byul."

And perhaps they really did. Because even though it was mid-term week and most students would gladly avoid contacts with the girls at college, Wheein's house was packed with people even though it was still 8 PM.

Byulyi stared at it in horror. Not that she had a phobia with crowds – now that she was there, she kinda thought she did. Back then in Connecticut, she had managed dodging away all the invitations, securing herself with a small circle who would definitely prefer book discussions and movie screenings than night clubs or Friday night parties.

That weekend, however, she was not very fortunate.

Byulyi stared at the house in front of her. It was a modern-minimalist house, 3 levels, and a door that was widely opened – loud music blasting from inside and she could see several students from her class hanging by the entrance. She frowned, and no longer because of the crowd, but because of the house. But before she could utter a single word, Yongsun had pulled her inside.

Being inside was a lot more terrible. Byulyi had bumped into 5 different people and the air smelled like alcohol and cigarettes. It was not long until she lost Yongsun in the crowd and then she was aimlessly trying to make her way out of the sea of people.

Then, she felt soft hand, fingers gripping onto hers, pulling her somewhere. Byulyi followed.

She was dragged toward the stairs, and only then she could see the owner of the hand. Jung Wheein. In her oversize t-shirt and hair let down and smile so wide that her dimples looked deeper than usual. Byulyi stumbled upon the first stair.

“Quick!” Wheein yelled, hurried. She then giggled and climbed up the stairs, hand still holding onto Byulyi’s. Byulyi asked what they had to be quick for, and where they were heading, but none of the questions seemed to pass through the loud music. And so, Byulyi obediently followed.

The trip upstairs sent a wave of nostalgia to Byulyi and she had to bite down a smile at that. It was long of years ago, too long that Wheein didn’t remember. When their legs were short and clumsy, and Wheein would always drag Byulyi excitedly up the stairs.

“Alright!” Wheein announced when they eventually reached the second floor. Byulyi looked around. It was empty in the second floor, probably because the lamp was turned off and all the fun was downstairs. It was almost like a different realm. The music was still loud, although slightly muffled. But there was no one there, not a single light, only Byulyi, and Wheein who had pulled her once again and walked passing the corridor.

“Where are we going?” Byulyi asked, and it was eventually heard.

“Out!” Wheein responded.

And by out, Wheein meant the balcony. They now stood at the balcony and only then Byulyi noticed a bottle of beer – probably beer, Byulyi couldn’t really distinguish liquors – in Wheein’s left hand. Her right one was still in Byulyi’s left hand.

The night was rather chilly and Byulyi wished she had a jacket on so she could give it to Wheein. Wheein didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, she seemed like she enjoyed the cold breeze. She then popped the bottle open and gulped down. Byulyi watched.

“I knew you’d come,” Wheein eventually said, handing the bottle to Byulyi, in which Byulyi dumbly took.

“How?”

“Didn’t you say you liked me?”

Wheein turned to face her. And Byulyi wasn’t sure, if it was because of the moonlight that was illuminating Wheein’s face, the breeze that lightly blew her fringe, or just Jung Wheein at this close proximity, but Byulyi forgot what she had just said and she was tongue-tied, nailed on the ground.

“Huh?”

“Didn’t you say you liked me?” Wheein’s fingers wrapped around the bottle of liquor in Byulyi’s hand, pulling it away and took another gulp.

Byulyi nodded.

“That’s how I know,” Wheein smiled conclusively. She shoved the bottle to Byulyi once again before taking out a pack of cigarette from her pocket.

“You smoke?” Wheein asked and Byulyi quickly shook her head.

“You drink?” She asked again, eyeing the bottle which Byulyi had been only gripping on. She shook her head once again, and Wheein sighed.

“Too nice, too nice.”

Wheein lit up a cigarette and took a drag, blowing the smoke to Byulyi’s face and giggled when the latter frowned. Byulyi only watched Wheein took another drag and another, before the latter shoved the half-burnt cigarette to Byulyi’s mouth.

Here was the thing. Ever since she was little, Byulyi had always been straight on track. She studied diligently, probably more diligently than any of her peers. Never skipped class. Went to church every Sunday. Did house chores without being asked. She had never thought of her life as boring, like what some people might label. She never thought living a righteous life like her parents wanted was anything but noble.

So, when Byulyi stared at the burning cigarette in front of her, she doubted.

There was once during her stay in United States when a guy she met at the public library offered her a blunt. She refused with a smile and walked home. It was easy and there was no hesitation.

But it was different this time. Probably because it was Wheein and Byulyi knew that when it came to Wheein, everything was different.

So maybe, to make it fair, it was okay for her to be different too.

And Byulyi took the cigarette with her thumb and index finger, and inhaled.

Wheein chuckled when Byulyi coughed, thick smoke surrounding the both of you. She then lit another cigarette.

“I thought you didn’t smoke,” Wheein finally said, when Byulyi took the second drag. Byulyi shifted her gaze to look at Wheein.

The breeze was suddenly a little bit chillier and the moonlight was slightly brighter. Wheein’s fringe was lazily swayed by the breeze, half of her face was illuminated. Her eyes were hazel brown – and Byulyi was so lost in trying to memorize the shade. Her lips slightly parted and Byulyi’s eyes glanced for a millisecond at them.

“I didn’t,” Byulyi eventually breathed out, after what seemed like eternity. There was always this kind of moment lately, when they stared at each other’s eyes. A moment when Byulyi just wanted to stay still and took Wheein’s figure in, memorized every outline and contour of her face. Looking at Wheein, and Wheein only.

She wondered if Wheein felt it, too.

Wheein then pointed to the bottle Byulyi was holding on.

“And you didn’t drink?”

Byulyi took a glance at the bottle, then at Wheein, and finally at the cigarette between her fingers. She then took a gulp, grimacing at the bitterness of the unfamiliar liquid and felt it burning in .

“I didn’t.”

Wheein laughed, her head thrown back. The sound of her laughter echoed in the air and Byulyi watched.

“You’re a very interesting person, Moon Byulyi,” Wheein said, after her laughter subdued. She smiled at Byulyi, showing off her dimples.

Byulyi didn’t get that a lot. She got told that she was smart, or she was kind, or she was very good at Math. But she didn’t get interesting a lot. But then again, it was Wheein. And when it came to Wheein, things were always a little bit different.

Byulyi didn’t respond to that. Only staring at Wheein’s eyes, then to her dimples, then took another gulp of the burning liquid.

They stayed like that for a while. Lighting up cigarettes after cigarettes, emptying the bottle away, with muffled music from downstairs and losing track of the time. Byulyi didn’t remember how the morning came, or how the night passed. She didn’t remember how they went downstairs to find the place deserted, left with trails of trashes and spilled drinks.

She didn’t remember either, how she ended up falling asleep on Wheein’s couch, with Wheein in her arms.

2.2

FORGET

“And I’ll forget the world that I knew,

But I swear I won’t forget you.”

Owl City – Vanilla Twilight

Wheein woke up with a throbbing head. She wasn’t that drunk the night before, but the liquor was enough to give her a minor headache. Worse, her back was aching as she realized she was lying on the floor. Letting out a groan, she forced herself to get up, reminding herself of the extra chore of cleaning up after the party. Probably calling Hyejin and Namjoo to help her out.

To her surprise, her living room was clean. No trashes left behind, furniture was all in their designated places. As if there wasn’t a wild party the night before.

Maybe a fairy godmother took pity of her and tidied everything up with a wave of her magic wand, or probably her friends were eventually learning about responsibility and cleaned up. That was very highly unlikely, though. She believed in the first option more. Frowning, she limply walked toward the fridge, helping herself with a glass of water. There, on the fridge door, hold by a magnet was a piece of paper.

Good morning, the shining to my star.

Wheein frowned even deeper, mind still hazy with sleep and hangover. It took her a while and after she saw the two symbols drawn on the bottom of the paper, her eyes went wide.

It was a drawing of a door and a star.

A flush of a distant memory rushed over her. It was fast and far, like blurs of moving cars. A memory of children’s laughter, and of a scorching hot summer, and of promises long forgotten.

“Wheein-ah!”

Wheein grimaced. How could she forget?

“You’re the shining to my star, then!”

Just how the hell could she forget?

“I will come back.”

Wheein bit down on her lower lip.

She remembered.