Wendy stared at Seulgi astoundingly. “We just ate a couple of minutes ago, and now all of you are having ice cream?”

Seulgi was busy eating her scoop of chocolate mint ice cream out of a medium-sized cup before responding, “Relax, it’s dessert.”

The two stood outside of an ice cream shop located three blocks away from the restaurant they were eating at. The summer air was enough for the group of friends to start building up a thirst for having something cold to freshen up their bodies under the presence of the bright sun shining brightly in the sky. It was the middle of September, and all of the inhabitants of Seoul expected the weather to cool down to greet the season of autumn, but the effects of global warming appeared to be prominent this year as the heat of summer hasn’t withered down although dropping a couple of degrees since last week.

After waiting a while, Joohyun alongside Sooyoung and Yeri came out of the shop with their own cups of ice cream. They were planning to visit the Seoul Museum of Art in the Jung-gu district and take pictures next to the abstract-looking displays. Wendy was assigned to be their professional photographer for the day because of course, being the selfless friend she was, she volunteered firsthand. The other girls often praise Wendy’s skills in photography, bombarding her Instagram comment sections with lots of heart emojis and showers of compliments. Wendy was very nonchalant about it, and by nonchalant, it meant that she always start smiling idiotically every time she reads or hears their comments.

“Are we good to go?” asked Yeri as she ate her double scoop of vanilla ice cream. The other girls nodded, and off they went to the museum.

Walking long distances became second nature to all of them so whenever they travel somewhere that’s within the city, they limit themselves from using public transportation except for the subway if the places were too far to reach. In this case, taking the train will be a lot more time efficient, so they went to the nearest station and head towards the subway line that would take them to Jung-gu.

Along the way, Wendy walked behind the four girls as she fished out her mirrorless camera out of her black bag. Turning it on and adjusting the setting for a bit, she started to take pictures of her friends ahead of her talking amongst themselves, acting completely oblivious. After looking through the previews, she then sprinted a bit to catch up to them.

Walking with Joohyun and Seulgi talking on her right side, she figured that the angle was perfect to take pictures of the two. So, she raised her camera near her face and said, “Guys, look this way.”

Joohyun and Seulgi turned their heads simultaneously and, once they noticed Wendy pointing a camera at them, posed with V-shaped fingers and a smile. Once the first picture was taken, Seulgi proceeded to wrap her arms around Joohyun’s shoulder and acted boyishly by biting her lips and raising her right eyebrow. Joohyun followed along by acting like she was flustered at Seulgi’s behavior, covering with both hands while looking up at the latter like how a lovestruck person would with loving eyes.

Wendy chuckled lightly as she took the shot, then looked at the preview and gave the two girls a sneak peek of the photo. “You look good together.”

Joohyun nodded. “We do, huh?” She turned to Seulgi and grinned mischievously. “What do you say, Seul? Wanna give it a shot?”

Seulgi blinked nervously. “I- you want to- wait, what?”

Joohyun and Wendy laughed loudly at the girl’s reaction. Seulgi did nothing but silently look at them with an apparent blush on her cheeks.

“Man, I wouldn’t surprise, to be honest,” spoke Wendy after her laughter died down. “You two would be on the same exact level as Sooyoung and Yeri.”

“Okay, first of all, I heard that,” Sooyoung, who was walking with Yeri in front of the three girls behind her, intervened to justify Wendy’s sentence. “Second of all, I will never have the slightest thought of dating this squirtle over here-“

“Hey!” exclaimed Yeri, glaring at the taller girl.

“-because she’s too busy falling head over heels with Saeron,” continued Sooyoung, finishing her sentence.

Yeri opened to object, but after hearing what Sooyoung had said, she shrugged and said, “She’s got a good point.”

“Didn’t know you swing at the other lane, Yeri,” Seulgi pointed out.

Yeri shook her head. “I don’t. Saeron’s just a really good friend.”

“That sounds exactly like the beginning of a romantic comedy,” spoke Joohyun, giggling.

All of them except for one snickered at the joke. As for the one person, who was Wendy, she only smiled and continued to take more candid photos of the girls.

...

“Wendy, take a picture of me here!”

“Sure thing.”

“Wendy, get a shot of me and Joohyun over there!”

“Got it.”

“Unnie, can you use my phone instead?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Seungwan, could you get a low angle of me standing over here?”

“What did I tell you about using my real name, huh?”

“That you love it when I say it?”

“Ugh, whatever. Just pose for me, will you?”

For the past hour since their arrival at the museum, it felt like a busy day at work as a temporary photographer for Wendy, which undoubtedly would’ve less if she was paid at the end of it all. The girls weren’t helping either; every time they spot a corner that looked remotely aesthetic, they drag the poor, exhausted Wendy towards the spot and make her take dozens of pictures from various angles. The girls tried their best to get Wendy in the frame with them and have a proper group photo, but the latter insisted that she doesn’t like her picture taken. She didn’t give them a specific reason why, though.

All the constant moving around caused Wendy to be a little out of breath, so as soon as she finished taking shots - in an uncomfortable crouching position - of Seulgi and Sooyoung in front of an artwork, she slowly got up and groaned at how unbelievably sore her legs felt.

Wendy gave her camera to Seulgi and Sooyoung and said, “I’m gonna take a break. Just use my camera for now, but be sure to give it back to me when you’re done.”

Seulgi saluted at her friend and nodded. “Yes, sir. Are you coming with us to the cafe?”

Wendy shook her head as she pulled out her earphones from her bag and plugged it into her phone. “Nah, I’m good. I’m gonna look around for a while. I’ll text you when I’m done.”

“Are you sure?” asked Sooyoung, to which Wendy nodded and smiled reassuringly.

“Yeah, totally. See you guys later, mmkay?” Wendy bid her two friends farewell and walked away, heading towards the escalator that leads to the second floor of the museum. Placing the earbuds into both of her ears, she scrolled through the playlist on her phone and selected a random song to accompany her in her solo expedition. Once she got off the escalator, she went into one of the exhibition halls and silently looked around.

Most of the artworks were recently displayed and featured many pieces from all kinds of talented contemporary artists. It was interesting for Wendy to look and appreciate the amount of creativity these artists put into their work, which was inspiring to a certain extent. Being the lover of all things music, she knew from experience in writing songs that the process of creating art is exhaustingly long and at most times frustrating, but once the final product is set, the feeling can be described as relieving. Because of this, walking in a room full of magnificent final products from artists who went through similar struggles felt oddly motivating to her. Unfortunately, most of the visitors were too busy taking selfies to later be added to their social media accounts.

It disappointed Wendy for it made her believe that these people don’t understand the sweat-inducing and mind-numbing process of all the artworks presented in front of them, only to be used as a background object of another Instagram post. Her own friends fell into this category, much to her dismay but she knows them well enough to know that their intent was not to gain followers or likes, for rather it was to appreciate the art and treat it as something to be recognized. Nevertheless, Wendy was glad of having friends who were loud, eccentric and all over the place yet intelligent and compassionate at the same time.

She continued to stroll around the hall as soft acoustic folk music played through her earphones, stopping at particular artworks that captivated her and took a few seconds to fully appreciate their existence before walking away. She was about to exit and search for another hall to explore before a very peculiar sight caught her eyes prevented her from leaving. She backtracked a couple of steps and turned to her right. There, sitting on a grey couch placed in the middle of the room which was surrounded by black-and-white photographs, was a boy around her age wearing a black cap, a black hoodie with a white shirt underneath, black sweatpants and regular school sneakers. He was staring down at his notepad, writing some words down that Wendy couldn’t properly see. His presence intrigued her as he was the only sitting on the couch while the rest of the visitors were standing up.

She went ahead and quietly sat down next to the boy, not forgetting to create a reasonable gap between them to avoid suspicion. She pretended to be looking down at her phone while making quick glances at the notepad yet she still couldn’t see what he was writing about. At that moment, she realized she had to do one thing she dreaded to do the most in public: striking up a conversation with a complete stranger.

Mustering up the courage and confidence that she had, she scooted nearer to the left and cleared . Here goes nothing. “Um, excuse me.”

The boy turned his head towards her. She was shocked to see that he was wearing black, round glasses which she didn’t notice before.

“Oh, hi,” greeted the boy. Wendy didn’t expect him to have a deep voice, either. “Can I help you with something?”

Wendy knew she was going to struggle to talk properly. It’s a habit whenever she spoke to people outside of her group of friends and family. “O-Oh, no… I was just, um… I was just curious about what you’re writing there.”

“Oh, this?” The boy looked down at his notepad, then turned back to Wendy. “It’s nothing, really. I was writing some lyrics down.”

Wendy’s ears perked up. “Lyrics? As in song lyrics?”

The boy nodded, smiling politely. “Yup. I always get inspired whenever I come here to look around. Funny enough, I used to be like those people over there.” He pointed at two people taking turns posing for a picture. “After a while, I realized how ignorant I was for not appreciating other people’s work. They work hard and live off of making art, so it’s safe to say that it’s our job to acknowledge it. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I do,” said Wendy, slowly nodding her head in agreement. What the boy said was similar to what she thought, which surprised her even more. “Sorry, but um… You were saying you get inspired here to write lyrics?”

“Mhmm. I don’t know why I guess it’s the overall atmosphere of this place. It leaves me with room to think, especially about music,” the boy explained as he closed his notepad and puts it in his little brown bag. “What about you? Do you come here a lot?”

“I’ve been here a couple of times, but this is the first time I brought my friends along,” answered Wendy, feeling herself grow comfortable and relaxed as time passes by and her nerves loosening up.

The boy’s expression turned confused as he looked around the room before turning his attention to Wendy. “Are they all imaginary? ‘Cause I don’t see any of them here.”

Wendy felt stupid for not pointing out the fact that her friends were currently not by her side. She mentally slapped herself on the forehead. “O-Oh, right. They’re at the café downstairs to get something to drink.”

“Ahh, really…” said the boy awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck out of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I assumed you were joking about the whole ‘I have friends’ thing- which is NOT my point at all! What I’m trying to say is, um… don’t hate me?”

Wendy giggled, finding the boy to be very amusing. “It’s alright. If that’s the case, then I would like to say that when I first saw you, I assume you were some kind of artsy univerity student.”

“Well, scratch the term ‘artsy’ out of the sentence, and you got yourself a pretty accurate assumption,” said the boy as he clapped his hands a little. “I go to SNU. What about you?”

“Really? Me too!” Wendy was very delighted to know that a kind and funny stranger goes to the same university as she does.

“Wait, seriously?” The boy asked in a surprised tone, his eyes lit up the same way as Wendy’s. The latter nodded her head in confirmation. “Oh, my God, that’s awesome! What’s your major?”

“I’m taking International Relations. What about you?” Wendy now has her full attention towards the boy beside him. She was slouching before, but now she sat up straight. She and the boy were now facing directly at one another.

“I’m majoring in Communication. Hey, we go to the same campus, that’s insane!” The boy smiled widely at the realization. “Oh, I have another question, it’s gonna sound a bit weird but what year were you born in?”

“1994,” answered Wendy, to which the boy responded with a slight gasp. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re born in the same year, too?”

“Oh, my God! This is so cool!” The boy exclaimed joyfully, earning a genuine laugh from Wendy.

“This is pure coincidence, seriously,” uttered Wendy.

“Pfft, no. This is what I call ‘fate’,” said the boy in opposition to Wendy’s statement. “Come on, just think about it: out of all the people you could’ve asked in this museum, it turned out to be me.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you look so different than anyone here with your clothes. Are you sure you’re not artsy, though, because your get-up right now screams ‘emo’ in bold letters,” teased Wendy while chuckling.

The boy frowned. “I’m not emo.”

Wendy scoffed. “Sure you aren’t.” Suddenly, she felt her phone vibrate inside the pocket of her jeans. She fished it out and unlocked the screen to find a message from Seulgi. “Well, it seems like I better go now. My friend texted me saying that they’re about to leave.”

“Oh. Well, that ,” muttered the boy, dejected. “Do you have Kakao, though? I would love to hang out with you again. You seem pretty cool.”

Wendy rolled her eyes. “I’m the opposite of ‘cool’, but sure.”

“A fellow English speaker. You’re full of surprises, huh?” The boy grinned.

“Oh. Didn’t know you could understand that, wow,” said Wendy, pleasantly surprised. This boy just kept surprising every chance he get. “Your English is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks,” the boy smiled before pulling his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie and reach it out to Wendy. “Give me your phone and I’ll give you mine so we could add each other on Kakao.” And, so they did.

Returning their phones to its rightful owners, Wendy stood up after what seemed to be a good couple of minutes talking with the boy who’s full of surprises and said, “I haven’t ask for your name yet, have I?”

The boy shook his head and smiled warmly. “Nope. Not yet.” He extended his hand in front of Wendy. “Kim Namjoon. Pleasure to meet you.”

Wendy returned the smile before accepting Namjoon’s handshake. “Son Seungwan. My family and friends call me Wendy, so I expect you to do the same.”

“But Seungwan’s a pretty name,” Namjoon pointed out. “And I’m going to leave it at that, because if I continue with ‘it’s pretty just like your face’, then I will give you the permission to slap me in the face as hard as you possibly can.”

Wendy chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re weird. I’ll see you when I wanna see you, Namjoon.”

Namjoon tipped his cap forward. “Likewise, Wendy.”