It was ten minutes past eight in the evening as Irene reaches the front of the pavilion, holding up a hand to stop the attendants from opening the glassed doors of the structure. She gives them a small smile as she reaches for her purse, fishing out her phone to look for any messages from her cousin, Yerim, only to see none. She sighs as she just used her phone to check on her face, looking for any stray sweat or smeared makeup.

Seeing her look fine, she places her phone back inside her purse and strode off towards the pavilion, smiling at the attendants who opened the door as she entered, the once muffled noises becoming crytsal clear as she started becoming one in the crowds. She stops a waiter to get a glass of champagne in his tray and muttering a small 'thanks' before further going deeper in the crowd, sipping her beverage as she flashes her smile to everyone whose eyes lands on her presence.

Irene travels her eyes around the extravagant venue, mentally praising Seulgi and her design team for the glamorous look they transformed the venue into—despite the ceaseless criticism of Mrs. Bae, Irene's mother. Midnight blue tablecloths cover each table in the hall with candlelights on top of it, identical color of curtains draped over the glass walls of the pavilion, uniformly tied that they still reveal the dreamy nighttime outside, the dimly lit garden and fountain also comes into view. A grand chandelier meets her orbs as she cranes her neck upwards, hanging there with its full glory, shouting preeminence.

Irene sighs, but hides it immediately as many eyes are looking over her, as if monitoring her every move. This has always been her life.

Catching the sight of her parents greeting several guests, Irene quickens her pace as she slides beside her mom—and as if on cue, Mrs. Bae whips her head towards the direction of her daughter, smiling ear to ear as she takes in the beautiful form of her one and only daughter.

"Princess!" Mrs. Bae exclaims, catching the attention of her husband and Irene's father, slightly hugging Irene and kissing her cheeks as a form of greeting. Mr. Bae in the other hand, kisses her daughter's hand, precisely on her knuckles.

"Good evening Mom, Dad."

"You look lovely, darling," Mrs. Bae interjects, observing her daughter from head to toe—from her greatly done hair and makeup, to the shiny pieces of jewelry that covers her neck and ears, and to her midnight black off-shoulder dress that makes her light and delicate skin glow more—she was heavenly; ethereal.

"How do you like the event so far?" Mr. Bae asks, voice stern and intimidating, and so is his gaze. She holds onto her mother's arm, beaming her most convincing smile to her father.

'I don't like it one bit.'

"Perfect," Irene answers, looking around, "Seulgi and her team did well on the venue," she continued, brushing off her initial thoughts under the rug, deciding to change the topic of the conversation.

"They surely did," Mrs. Bae chimes in, putting a hand over her daughter's that rests on her arm, giving her daughter a side eye which Irene catches on immediately, "Should we greet more guests, hon?"

Answering with a nod, the family started greeting guests, Irene recognizing only a few—well, it's understandable. Almost all of the guests in this party right now are from her parents' social circles, some coming off from small businesses but is worthy enough to be recognized by her parents, especially her father. The purpose of this event is to basically find new partners in the field, expanding their name more.

Irene just tries her best to ignore and brush off her parents' effort to make her friends with other sons or daughters of their business partners, not really liking how these people act—how kids her status normally act. One example is turning a blind eye on things even though they have the full capability to help, just because it doesn't concern them. Irene hates that, and that's just one thing.

Not long after does Irene feel her face starting to numb for holding the forced smile too long, remedying it through drinking from her prolonged champagne—which she almost forgot she had—drinking it in one go, placing the empty flute on top of a passing waiter's tray, nodding at him as thanks.

"Mr. Oh!" Irene's mom greets a taller man, approaching him to exchange handshakes, her father doing the same, flashing a short smile to what the closest he can call as his friend. Irene just nodded and smiled as another taller figure joins their circle, her once forced smile now actually a bit genuine as she smiles at one of her friends in her small social circle—Sehun.

"This party is amazing, kudos!" Mr. Oh exclaims, holding up his cup to toast, and Mr. Bae doing the honor. "Ah, so this is your precious princess now. She've grown to a beautiful lady."

Mr. Oh gives Irene a look, one that she doesn't like a bit, but she fights the urge to scorn as she gives him a slight smile before the older man finally turned his attention to her parents, talking about business things. Thankfully, Sehun approaches her side, "Good evening, Rene."

"Your dad is a jerk," she whispers to him, ignoring Sehun's attempt to act formal, making the guy chuckle.

"I know that very well. But don't mind him, I can accompany you all night," Sehun whispers back, stifling a laugh at how Irene rolled her eyes, "Anyways, you do look beautiful."

"Why does it comes off in a good way when you're the one who said it?"

"I'm not my father, I guess," Sehun answers, craning his neck around the crowd as if looking for a specific face, "Where is Yeri?"

Irene scoffs, folding her arms as she remembers her cousin, "Ditched me for some important business which we all know is just sleeping or shopping all day."

"Sounds so her," Sehun laughs, showing his dimple, "You know she'll choose anything over formal events like this, right?"

They both laugh talking about Yeri, gaining the attention of both their families, earning a look the both of them know so very well.

Aside from Yeri, Sehun has been in Irene's small social circle ever since middle school and their fathers have been business partners in numerous deals and projects since forever, resulting for the both of them often getting the 'marriage and merge' talk. Irene doesn't see Sehun in any way other than a close friend, a person she can tell secrets and stories with. She knows Sehun feels the same too, they both dislike that talk.

"Look at the both of them Ivan," Mr. Oh says, addressing Mr. Bae in his name, pointing his hand towards the teens who now looks at them, "Perfect for each other, aren't they?"

"We're not in that stage, Mr. Oh," Irene cuts off the man's parade, not able to hide the irritation lacing her words. She earns a look from her parents, but she pretended to not notice.

"Why not? We can go straight to the marriage," the man answers, sipping from his wine glass, "And son, stop being slow and make your move!"

"I still have my personal goals, Dad," Sehun answers, voice unrelenting as he looks straight at his father, "I'm still not ready for that topic."

"I have mine too," Irene joins, smiling cheaply, "I have my own personal plans."

Irene flinches in shock as Mr. Oh suddenly laughs out loud, her suprise quickly turning into confusion as to why the man suddenly bursted laughing. Did she say anything humorous? Because she can't pick up the joke.

"My bad," Mr. Oh says, stopping himself from his howl of laughter, "Plans you say, young lady? What plans? The only thing you should be planning is being a good wife and mother!"

Irene's ears ring in the old man statement, her blood beginning to boil. She's fuming, not just because the man reduced her for being just a wife and mother, but also because he basically mocked her and degraded capabilities. Irene have much respect to wives and mothers out there but she can't see herself in that road, at least not until she builds her own name, far from her parent's shadows.

Her parents do want her to find and settle down with a significant other, but they know how talented their daughter are and they want her to achieve things on her own. They don't push things on her or degrade her to things just like what Mr. Oh did; she wanted to rage.

"Simon," Mr. Bae calls, tone formidable as he attempts to face the man, only to be halted by a small hand in his arms; Irene's.

"I am very sorry for that kind of thinking for you Mr. Oh, but I do not see myself merely like that," Irene answers, finally releasing her irritated smile to the man, but kept her composure upright, "Please excuse me, I need some fresh air."

Without any more words, Irene turns to her heels and walks away from the circle, passing by the crowd trying not to bump with anyone, not minding the curious eyes she's getting. Before she could get out of the structure, Irene feels a hand hold her arms, seeing it was Sehun's as she looked back.

"Don't," she cuts off what he was supposed to say, pulling her arm back from his grip, "Your father is an asshat. I hope you don't be like him in the future."

She leaves Sehun standing and continued pacing until she's outside the pavilion, away from her parents, away from people who continuously mold her into things she never really wanted, away from everything. She walks down the slated pathway that led deeper into the garden, thankful that no one were strolling here at the moment, everyone probably busy socializing with people at the event.

Seeing a small bench in the side, Irene approaches it and sits, leaning down to massage her sore legs and feet, especially her ankles because of walking too much, "Damn these wedges."

Sighing, Irene leans back and onto the bench, looking up towards the starry night sky, events from earlier started clouding her thoughts . She tried focusing on the heavenly bodies above, but sadly she can't.

She hated her life.

As much as she enjoys the grandeur this kind of life gives, she hates it. From her parents giving her little to none affection and attention because of work and business, to the judgmental and curious looks people give her every time, to people her age befriending her just because of her status, and a lot more things she hates—all in this life. She wished for break.

And God must've heard as tears started flowing down her cheeks.

"," she curses, using her fingers to dab on the tears flowing down her cheeks, doing her best to stop them but to no avail, "I asked for a break, not a breakdown," another sigh escapes her lips as well as a sob, frustrated at the fact she can't stop her tears, frustrated at what happened earlier, frustrated at everything.

"Here,"

Irene flinches when a hand holding out a pink handkerchief suddenly appears from her side, snapping her head towards the owner—a blonde woman in a suit with her hair tied up, who probably crept up on her while she was busy sobbing, eyes darting a glare despite the tears still flowing down. Irene is a scaredy cat—she doesn't like people startling her, what more from a stranger.

Despite the disturb, Irene accepts the hanky and wiped her tear-stained face, recovering her composure as she breathed in, looking over the company she has for the night. The blonde invites herself to sit at the other end of the bench—a one person distance created between them. She rests one of her arms on the bench's backrest, her coat nicely folded in her other arm resting above her lap while she looks up the night sky.

"Can I keep this?" Irene asks, pertaining to the pink cloth handed to her. The girl just nods, still looking up the sky. Irene just nods too, and there was it again; silence, but the good one.

It was quiet, not until Irene suddenly chuckles at the situation, earning the curious look of the other woman, "Why is it?"

"I think I've seen this film before," Irene quotes from one song, sounding foreign to the other girl's ear. 

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't think this is a cliché romance film where you help me and we talk and we fall in love, I'm not that for that kind of story, just telling," Irene says, earning an amused smile from the girl herself, eventually a chuckle. Irene can't deny that she looked like the sun when she did that, but she wouldn't admit.

"You're getting ahead of yourself," the blonde says, the amused smile not leaving her lips, "I came here for air and to breathe. I see you crying, I help. That's basic human decency milady, don't take it on another context. For someone receiving help, you're ungrateful."

Irene looked away from her company, cheeks flushing from embarrassment, tinting a bit red. She didn't thought of that option and she scolds herself for saying exactly what's on her mind, the stranger even branding her as an ungrateful person.

"I'm just stating," Irene retaliates, despite the shame, "Anyways, thank you," she kind of whispers, but enough for the other to hear, earning another chuckle from the blonde.

"Why are you even crying?" the blonde finally asks, looking over Irene and her beautiful look, "You look rich. I'm guessing, party tragedy?"

"Nothing for you to mind," Irene answers, folding her arms as the events from earlier comes back to her mind.

"Why? Did daddy not pick your favorite cake or what?"

Irene looked back at the blonde, irked at her statement. She answers the other's smirk with a displeased smile. This is also one of the things she hates for living this kind of splendor; everyone thinks your problem is all material things in life.

"No, and I bother not to tell you. You seem to have this preconception against the rich."

"I do," the blonde answers truthfully, the smirk still lays adamant on her lips, "Unless you change my mind, milady."

"Stop calling me that," Irene says, annoyed. But the smirk and look from the blonde seems to like her nettled.

"Come on, humor me."

Irene stayed silent, sighing as she looked up the sky, pondering about the events earlier, thinking whether to open up to a stranger.  The blonde, whose smirk is now gone, watches her side profile, observing every feature of her face.

"What if," Irene starts after minutes of silence, earning the full attention of the blonde girl, "You have this definite vision for yourself, planned and laid out well. But people around you—society, have this template, this mold they want to put me into. I don't want that for myself, for my future."

The blonde listens carefully, observing how Irene narrates, emotion indiscernible, "You already planned your future?" she slightly cuts off, seeing how Irene got stucked in her words, trying to make her talk to divert her attention.

"You don't?" Irene asked confusedly, looking back at the girl beside her, who shook her head and smiled cheaply in response.

"I live my life day by day. One step at a time," she explains, breaking their look as she redirect it towards the bushes up front, "I'm not really a fan of plans and sort."

"That's kind of sad, if you ask me."

The stranger smiles, amusement is again visible on her beam, "Not really."

She finally stands up, swinging her coat over her shoulder before walking down the slated path, Irene following short, "Wait! I didn't get your name earlier, mine's Irene."

The blond looks over her shoulder, seeing that the lady tailed her, now walking beside her not long after, "I go by Wendy."

"Nice meeting you, Wendy."

Wendy just nods, acknowledging their formal greeting as they continue treading the stoned path, walking in silence. Looking at the side profile of the blonde, a lightbulb seems to suddenly appear on Irene's mind.

"Wendy," she starts, stopping on her tracks making the other halt too, "Do you have a car?"

For an obscure reason, Wendy agreed to Irene's idea of a late night drive, asking her to drive her to the nearest fast food chain there is. Irene doesn't know why she even thought of coming with a stranger and ride their car when she just met her while crying in a bench, but something about her presence makes Irene feel pleasant.

Maybe Wendy is the escape she's been waiting for.

Reaching the parking of a local fast food hub, Irene gets off the front seat, turning back to supposedly say 'thanks' but was halted when Wendy herself got off the Mercedes, clicking the car key as she swings her coat over shoulder again, "What? I'm also eating, didn't drive that long to just drop you off you know."

Irene chuckles at her statement, following the girl as they approach the place, shuddering as a cold win gushed towards their direction. Wendy, noticing the shivering girl, pulled her coat off before draping it over the cold girl's shoulder, making Irene flinch a bit but immediately give in to the warmth her coat gives. It smelled good too.

"Thanks."

Wendy decided to order for the both of them, with Irene persisting to pay. Wendy didn't protest or say anything, letting the girl, which Irene was thankful for. She sat at the corner of the chain, beside the glass wall, overlooking the night glory outside. While waiting—and slightly stealing glances on the blonde here and there, she can't help to think about her.

Sure, at first she kind of been a jerk, but she can't deny she also have this gentle and open minded side in her, one Irene likes in a company. She seems to hate people her status though, but Irene can't really question her, but she's thankful she feels that she's included in that narrative in Wendy's mind. God knows how much she needs company right now, and she grateful it's Wendy.

"Here," Irene snaps from her thoughts as Wendy places a tray on top of their table, giving her order of pasta while Wendy got a burger. She quickly digs in the food, savoring it as she didn't get the chance to enjoy the delicacies at the event earlier, thanks to a certain old man.

The atmosphere around them was a quiet but comfortable one, the soft jazz from the late night radio filling in the air. Wendy finishes her burger as Irene looks up from her foor, giving the girl an intricate look.

"What do you do in life?" she asks out of the blue, earning the look of the blonde as she drinks from her water, wiping her lips after with a napkin. Irene thinks she must've went too personal, but she was relieved when Wendy answered her question.

"I'm still studying at uni," she answers shortly, giving her a small smile, "And I sing."

"Really? Can you sing me one song?" Irene perks up at the info, chewing the food inside .

The blonde smirked, "No," she declines, enjoying the pouting and disappointed look from the girl.

"Bummer," Irene mutters to herself as she finished her pasta, but it was clear on Wendy's ears, making her chuckle.

"Maybe next time?"

Irene looks up at the blonde, eyes gleaming without even noticing it. "Next time? How?"

Wendy smirks, "Give me your phone."

Without second thoughts, she hands Wendy her phone and she carefully watches the blonde as she types in her phone number in Irene's phone and vice versa, handing it back with a smile, "I'll hit you up."

Wendy dropped Irene at their mansion's gate, the latter muttering a 'thanks' and 'see you next time' which the blonde responded with a short nod and smile, immediately driving off and leaving Irene standing outside while watching her car disappear from sight, the girl realizing her coat is still draped over her shoulder. It was warm.

That night, she stares at her phone—particularly the number from the peculiar blonde, with the slight conflict with herself on whether she'd be the one to message first or wait. She wanted to message first but she doesn't want the blonde to think she's that excited on talking with her, she is but she won't admit it.

Rolling on her bed, she slightly screams on her pillow, the frustration from a simple messaging coming through her. But the ring from her phone stops her from her crisis, opening it to see the name 'Wendy' on the screen. It brought a big smile on her face, subconsciously.

They decided to meet the next day for the sole reason of—according to Irene, return the blonde's coat. But they also met the day after, and the day after that, until Wendy's smile and laughter filled Irene's days, her weeks and months. They go to impulse travelling and shopping, courtesy of the blonde, with Irene starting to love the feeling of living day by day, without thinking much of what the future holds.

It wasn't that sad after all.

Even when university started, Wendy didn't fail to keep track on Irene, sending her memes and encouraging words every now and then whenever she feels down or pressured. The actions and more often smiles catching the attention of her cousin Yeri, asking whether she got someone she finally liked.

And her question lingered on her mind since then; does she like Wendy?

It was just six months after their unexpected meeting, does liking someone comes off easily as that? Irene admits she likes Wendy's smile and laughter, especially the one that makes her eyes go away. Her presence that always makes the atmosphere go warm and safe, making her feel she's a normal girl and not some daughter of a rich businessman. Her spontaneous and unique plans that always sweeps her off her feet.

Like that one time they went to this amusement park and rode a ferris wheel even though Irene protested the whole way, they still went. Wendy promising the girl she would always hold her hand and not leave her side no matter what happens—as if she could as Irene clinged onto her the whole ride like a koala. But the view from the top made her amazed, she was in awe.

And that one time they went horse riding in a ranch Wendy's friend owned. Being the scaredy cat Irene is, she disagreed on mounting the horse, bursting out excuses like 'it's animal abuse' but still Wendy promised to guide and stay with her, so she did. They almost fell from the horse though, and she scolded Wendy for that. Wendy just muttered a sorry and promised to never do it again.

And she never did.

Wendy never did anything twice, it was always new whenever they are out together. She was always unpredictable, and she liked the thrill the blonde gives her.

And when Wendy whispered her words of reassurance as she holds her hand tight, calming her nervous and scared heart, she knew that it was more than like.

"Are you ready?" the tattoo artist asks as he wipes the needle with a clean cloth. She grabs Wendy's hand tighter, and when she once again saw the smile on the blonde's face, she nods at the guy.

And today, Wendy's at it again on her surprising agendas; the both of them getting a tattoo. Of course she hesitated at first, but it seems to get harder and harder for her to resist Wendy.

Irene winces when the needle gets in contact with her delicate skin, the artist starting to trace the design she picked herself; a small sun.

She wanted a tattoo that could remind her of Wendy, as it will be inked in her pulse forever, and she can't think of anything else that could describe Wendy more. She was her light, her warmth, her sunshine.

Contrast to her ink, Wendy got herself a moon, in the same place as Irene's. Wendy said it was because of her, as she glows like a moon and she lights Wendy's darkest nights just like Luna. Cue Irene's ceaseless blushing.

"It's done," the artist says, wrapping Irene's pulse with a fresh bandage, Irene not noticing it was already done. She flashes a victorious smile at Wendy, which the latter returned with a proud one.

"I did it!" she exclaims, showing off her bandaged pulse to the blonde, clearly excited. She faced another fear of her own, thanks to Wendy, again.

"Let's go?" Wendy offers, the same proud smile still plastered on her face as she offers Irene her hand, which the latter happily takes. After paying for the service, they leave the shop and rides Wendy's Mercedes, with Wendy opening the door for Irene.

"Should I take you home?" Wendy asks Irene as she enters the driver's seat, entering her keys to the cylinder, starting the car.

Irene, who has her eyes glued on her bandaged wrist, looks back at Wendy. She shook her head no and sighed, "Maybe later. I don't want my parents to know I got inked without their permission."

Wendy laughs at her problem, earning a slap on the shoulder from Irene, "Okay then, what should we do?"

"Maybe talk?" Irene asks, sinking in her seat as she fiddles her fingers, debating on whether she should go confess or not. She doesn't want to risk anything, but she also doesn't want to hide these feelings too.

"About?"

"Things."

"Come on, be specific," Wendy says, chuckling. She leans near Irene so she could look closer to her face, specifically her eyes, "Look at me, Rene."

When Irene did look at Wendy, there was just a tiny bit of distance between their faces, and without even knowing it, Irene closes the distance between their lips, locking hers with Wendy's.

It lasted for only seconds until Irene suddenly hits realization, cutting off their kiss as she pulls back, face flushed and red as she looks back at Wendy's emotionless eyes.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry I—"

The hand that crawled to Irene's nape and closed the distance between their lips once again halts her from her apology. Wendy is kissing her, and it didn't took long for her to melt in the kiss and return the action.

"Dummy," Wendy mutters when they stopped, foreheads glued together as Irene holds Wendy's hand that holds her neck.

"W-what?" Irene can't help but to stutter and blush because of Wendy.

Wendy chuckles, rubbing her thumb on Irene's jaw, "I like you too."

Aside from the rose tints in Irene's face, she can't help but to smile at the blonde's words, heart fluttering as her feelings are reciprocated. She was more than happy.

"My birthday is in a week," Irene mutters, placing her hands on Wendy's shoulder as the blond gives her an 'i know' look, making Irene smile amusedly, "I want you to come. Please."

And with just her smile, Irene already knew her answer, "Of course."

"Meet me in a week, okay? I'll send you the details."

"Wait for me."

It was already the night before Irene's birthday celebration as Seulgi and her design team rushes to finish the final touches on the  venue—the same venue where they first met, the theme being 'sun and moon', as she wanted her special day to be connected with the both of them, and her parents are happy for her.

It was already Irene's day, the venue already filled with guests from different companies and social circles. But she waits for a specific blonde; her sun, Wendy.

"Happy birthday, Rene," Sehun greets Irene as he approaches her, who just finished talking to cousin and Yeri's parents. Sehun hugs her and she hugs back, a grateful smile plastered on her face.

"Thanks, Hun," she answers, looking around the extravagant birthday venue, "What do you think?"

"Superb, as always," he answers, gaze now landing on his birthday friend, "You look perfect yourself."

"You didn't get me a gift didn't you?" Irene teases, which the tall guy laughed at.

"Of course I did."

Irene laughs off as she looks around the venue again, hoping to find the familiar blonde haired girl, her eyes stopping at her watch too look at the time; fifteen minutes past eight in the evening, then eventually at her sun tattoo, just an inch below the band on her wrist.

She flinched when Sehun suddenly covers her wrist with his large hand, giving her a stern but sad look, "Rene, stop this."

"Stop what?"

"She's not coming," his words rang in her ears as she tightened his grip on her wrist, wanting her friend to wake up into the reality, "It's been five years, she won't come. Stop torturing yourself, Rene."

With a glare, she pulls her wrist back forcefully as she seethes at Sehun, tears started b her eyes.

Wendy didn't show herself in her party five years ago, until today. It has been five whole years but still, no Wendy, no peculiar blonde, no sunshine. She couldn't find her.

But even though, she held onto her words. She waited for her. As a result, she never changed the details, the venue, and even the time of her every birthday party for five years. It was already annoying her parents, but she didn't cared. All she wanted was to see her again. No matter how long.

But what Sehun just told her was a slap that brought up the hidden pain and frustration of her sun leaving without a trace, her longing for Wendy.

Was everything a lie? Were those promises, words, and confessions false? She felt her heart clench as tears finally flowed down her cheeks.

"Rene,"

Maybe they really are the sun and moon, destined to meet for a short time once in a thousand years and to separate again.

Irene turned her back from Sehun, walking away. She ignored the surprised and confused look from her guest, and the shouts of Sehun and her cousin, Yeri. She ran away. She can't accept the reality.

She ran down the same slated pathway, deeper in the gardens while crying, just like five years ago. But this is different.

Because there's no Wendy.

She fastens her pace as she felt Sehun and Yeri nearing her when she looked back slightly, forgetting she is completely in heels. As a result, she loses her footing.

"Irene!"

Sehun's shout rang in her ears as she closed her eyes when she felt herself falling, not until strong arms hold her back and waist to prevent her from falling. Irene clutching on the person's shoulders for more support.

Slowly, she opens her eyes. The first image she catches on is the blonde hair, almost the same shade as the sun, her eyes eventually stopping short on the familiar warm eyes.

And the familiar gentle smile.

"Are you okay?"

[ S E R E N D I P I T Y ]

— finding something good without looking for it.

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