“From what I can tell, it looks like you also broke someone else’s heart.”

The comment takes Jeongyeon by surprise. She instantly scoffs, certain that even her heartbreak was not reciprocated to the same severity.

She stares outside and appreciates the iridescent city lights that she has taken for granted all these years while she stops to ponder for a moment. It wouldn’t be completely true if she claimed that she didn’t also inflict at least some damage.

“Probably,” she opens up. “Unfortunately, it’s probably not nearly as much as Naye—”

She catches herself. Although there is a sense of security in the backseat of this taxi that could be the effect of anonymity, she’s still careful not to reveal too much. It is an occupational disease she has developed over a long period of being under the spotlight.

The elderly man, though not as physically quick and agile as he was in his youth, retained his sharpness into his wiser years. He catches the slip-of-tongue from the young lady behind him and took note of the hesitation, keen to adopt a sensitive approach moving forward.

“What I was trying to say is that...” Jeongyeon proceeds to recover, “I do love this person way more, far more than they could ever love me.”

“How can you be so sure?” The man curiously asks.

She could list more than one reason. But sure...in all aspects of the question, can one really be sure?

Perhaps this was that one exception...

“I heard her say so myself.”

I wish we could.

Those were her words.

– three months ago –

It is almost two am in the morning and it is the last night, rather last early morning, before Jeongyeon has to say goodbye to this magical island. Though they are here on business, shooting a commercial for next season’s campaign, moments like this give off the feeling of an actual vacation, as fleeting as it actually is.

She sits on the edge of the dock, feet wading in the clear night water while a school of stars envelopes her at all angles, shining their brightest smiles from the sky whilst reflecting to boast their majesty on the glassy sea. Far from the frenzied noise that dominated the majority of her waking hours, the stillness of the night, the salty breeze from the waves, the delicate brushes from the wind offers her the peace of mind that is a rarity these days. She can’t remember the last time she felt simply content, simply at ease.

Long gone were the days where everything seemed simple. She remembers the bike rides along the Han river after training, sneaking out in the middle of the night to enjoy the best spicy rice cakes in town, going to the movies with her schoolmates after midterms, and simply laughing and smiling because youth was all that simply mattered.

But she misses those other days the most. Especially the long ones with her. Laughing their asses off, their shrieks echoing in the empty hallways of the company. Balling their eyes out after a difficult showcase, after being told they were not good enough. Having those long deep talks about their dreams and aspirations to debut one day. Holding hands, holding each other tight, always with bated breaths through every step of the way.

Things are more complicated now. She’s still in love with her but she thinks she’s probably in love with someone else. They spend more hours together than they do their own families but never have they’ve been more distant than ever. The symptoms are classic: the lack of reciprocity, a surplus of mixed signals, a barrage of disappointments one after another, transforming the simplicity of what she thought they shared to something malignant.

Yet beneath this sky full of stars, she still wishes she were here or at least some version of themselves that would purely blend in within the white-yellow lights. Perhaps a version of herself that could express how beautiful she would look under it and a version of her that would just simply hold her hand. Just like those old distant days.

Ironically, as if the universe is listening for once, she hears steps approaching her. She turns her head over her shoulder and lo and behold...the girl she was wishing for a second ago.

“Can’t sleep?” Nayeon casually asks as she slips off her sandals before crouching to sit, dipping her feet next to her.

In other situations, she would strictly find the quickest route of escape from her proximity. For tonight, she’s wanting to just revel in the simplicity this island is offering. It is their last night after all.

She shakes her head before returning the question, “You?”

Nayeon flashes her a small smile as she answers, “I was trying to.” Nayeon gently swings her leg causing the water beneath to splash and ripple. “And then I saw you.”

For the first time in a long time, Jeongyeon returns the smile. It surprises Nayeon to say the least. It surprises her how long it has been since she has seen that smile. She sees Jeongyeon smile all the time—on billboards, in music shows, during concerts, and on television but it’s been a while since she has seen this smile—the smile that was just for her.

Jeongyeon stretches her arms above her before leaning backwards to lie down. She intertwines her hands together cradling the back of her head like a pillow. In her classic signature mid timbre, Jeongyeon hums the tune to a dreamy ballad with her eyes closed, “Past the milky way, in a faraway place, I’m going through our white memories, it’s alright if it’s just a dream.”

She chuckles after the last note, satisfied with her half-effort, surprisingly content with the universe’s hand in aligning this simple moment. Nayeon, on the other hand, secretly wells up inside. She has always loved when she’d randomly sing like this; something about her voice that seems to always find a way to put her quarreling heart at rest.

Nayeon looks over her shoulder, appreciating everything precious about her life represented in the person lying next to her. She then puts a voice behind her thoughts, sprinkling them with real meaning, “I love it when you sing.”

In response, she catches a small smile curved at the corner of the younger girl’s lips.

Then in the next drawn out minutes, they stay in that comfortable silence for a while, cherishing every second, every minute that would pass. Nayeon takes it all in, committing every color, every smell, every texture to memory. She knew nights like this are rare, especially when the thing—rather person—that makes it so special is allowing her to share it.

Nayeon muses, “When do you think we can come back to this island again?”

Jeongyeon nonchalantly replies, “Maybe at retirement?”

Nayeon scoffs, “You’re planning on waiting that long?”

“Maybe I plan to retire at thirty? That’s like what—roughly four or five years from now?” Jeongyeon half-heartedly submits.

“What about me? What if I’m not ready to retire then?”

Still with eyes closed, Jeongyeon furrows her eyebrows at Nayeon’s absurd question.

“What about you? You can just go in your own time.”

“But if you plan to come back here, you have to take me with you,” Nayeon playfully pouts though she’s aware that Jeongyeon still has her eyes closed.

“I don’t get why I have to take you with me,” Jeongyeon says flatly.

Nayeon leans over to her and pokes her cheek, “Because I’m your best friend. Because you love me.”

Nayeon immediately regrets the words she accidentally allowed to escape . Though in good fun and playful banter, that one word is probably not the best choice between them.

Jeongyeon winces. Good thing her eyes are shut. She could still maintain that calm composure without making her discomfort too obvious.

She chooses to brush it off and goes along with it, “Whatever you say, Nayeon-ah.”

Nayeon’s glad that nothing came of it. It boosts her confidence and reduces the nerves that she has had since the moment she woke up from a very short sleep only to take a peek through her open window finding the person she was just dreaming about.

Another comfortable silence passes before she finally follows suit, taking the space next to Jeongyeon, to lie down and rest underneath the glittering sky. Similar to Jeongyeon, she feels rather at peace far from the commotion that is waiting for her exactly at the same spot she left it.

Nayeon heaves a long sigh before admitting, “I just don’t want to go back to Seoul.”

The paparazzies have always been intense ever since they entered that survival program during pre-debut. But it’s like a hurricane these days for Nayeon after becoming the latest victim of a dating scandal. It’s one thing to feel like being mobbed by cameras and the incessant flickers and flashes that seem to provoke them to no ends. Yet, it’s another thing to be suffocated by it.

“These days I can’t even go to the convenience store without getting my picture taken and seeing it on some media outlet the next day,” Nayeon grumbles, “If I wanted to see Suho oppa, I would have to go full incognito—oversized hat, wrap-around scarf, sweatshirt, mask, glasses, the whole nine yards...”

Jeongyeon’s eyes dart open. It happened almost instantaneously at the mention of the name. It was as if the universe was playing its cruelest trick after all. Every star that was smiling a moment ago now dimmed, grieving the loss of its joyous splendor. The sea glass that used to shimmer in solitude now blackened in sorrow. The wind that ever so lightly brushed her skin through her soft whispers now serves the cold reminder that Jeongyeon never really had the chance to escape this reality.

Nayeon’s voice fades into a muffle and without even realizing it, Jeongyeon gets up from her position. Right now, the only voice that she could hear are the ones coming from her own thoughts—Oh yeah, that’s right. This version of us doesn’t exist anymore.

“Hey,” Nayeon reaches for her arm, snapping Jeongyeon’s soul back to consciousness. “Are you leaving...just like that?”

Jeongyeon could only muster a few blinks. She holds her gaze towards the confounded beauty in fron