When I found the car where we had parked it, Ahjumma had fallen asleep in the car. She reprimanded me, saying that she had been waiting for hours waiting for me, and that I had disappointed her. I felt extremely terrible.

"I got lost" was all I could say. Which was actually true, in a way. I had gotten lost, but that wasn't what took me so long.

The camera crew had returned to the car before I did, since they couldn't find me. They didn't say anything about Donghae grabbing my hand and running away, though. I couldn't tell what they thought of it. They didn't say anything about it at all.

We rode back to the farm in silence. I couldn't think of anything but Donghae's expression as he looked over the water. What was he thinking of? His father? s? He seemed so peaceful, so honest. But he was so silly and loud when I'd seen him in Seoul. He'd be different then, I somehow knew. 

Even when we returned back to the farm and I was assigned a lifetime (Okay, not really), of chores as punishment for making Ahjumma wait, I kept thinking of that beautiful place by the ocean and a completely different Donghae from the one I knew. My heart had been about to burst then. Even if I went back to Seoul and left all of this behind, I knew that I'd never forget that time by the ocean, a quiet moment with just me and one of the members, in a secret place he called his own. A secret shared. All the while, as I shoveled manure and organized the barn, I hummed a tune to myself I couldn't remember ever hearing before. Had I made it up?

It started to rain halfway through the day, so we all had to come. Grateful for the opportunity, I went straight to my room and wrote down the words that were flooding through my head. That was how all of my songs were written. satisfied with the way they had turned out, I pulled out my ukulele and began to play it, using the tune in my head. Like waves on the rocks.

I played it again and again for hours until it sounded just about right. I sang the words, and plucked out notes on the ukulele. I could only wonder if this was how Henry had composed his songs. Or Donghae, too. Both of them wrote and composed songs, I knew. but I'd never written music. Actually, I didn't quite know how. I'd always just written lyrics. 

"Minsung! Come out for dinner!" I heard Mr. Kim call from the hall. I took my ukulele with me, setting it on the side of the room, so it wouldn't get stepped on while we ate dinner. 

Everyone wanted to know how I had gotten lost at the market. Everyone made fun of me. I didn't take offense to it, really; they were just teasing. But then they said that i should be more careful next time. I didn't tell them that I hadn't gotten lost in the city exactly. My camera crew knew that, but as far as i could see, they weren't telling. 

Finally, Ahjumma cleared the table of dishes, and I retrieved my ukulele. "Umm, I know I made a lot of trouble today, and I'm really sorry for that. So, to apologize, I hope you'll listen to this song I wrote. I don't have much experience in writing songs, and I just started this today, so please don't mind that it's not perfect. Or that my Korean isn't 100%. So, umm, anyway, I thought I'd call this song 'A Dream By the Sea'. 

I started singing the soft Korean words, feeling my heart beat softer at the memories.

"A warm autumn day,
in a town by the sea-
The smell of salt
and freshly-caught fish.

I thought I was alone
in a crowd full of people.
But I feel a hand on my wrist,
and a voice in my ear.

'I have something to show you,'
says the familiar voice.

Have we met?
Some distant time, 
some distant place.

Through the streets and away from the crowds,
to a place he calls his own.
Where the sea beats against the rocks, 
and the grass grows under the trees.

A free place,
a beautiful place.
His own, his love,
that he wanted to show me.

We knew each other little,
but talked in pure honesty, 
exchanging secrets,
telling stories.

We're from two different worlds,
the man from the sea and I.
but I love his world- his home,
And I'll remember it forever.

Next I see him,
he'll be a different person, I know.
Not the honest, sweet man 
that sat next to me by the water.
and trusted me with his memories.

But we'll meet again someday.
Some distant time,
some distant place,
through the streets and away from the crowds,
in a place we'll call our own.
Where the sea beats against the rocks,
Where my dream by the sea calls his home."

I stopped playing and looked up, tears running down my cheeks. I couldn't stop thinking of that last breath he had taken, as if he had wanted to say something, but I had cut him off. What had he been about to say?

"That was beautiful!" Mr. Kim erupted, and everyone started clapping. 

"I'll never understand how you musician people come up with these things. I've never been able to come up with a tune, no matter how hard I've tried! Or good words!"

"That's because you're tone deaf!" Ahjumma joked, and everyone laughed.

"It just kind of... comes to you. Sometimes inspiration can find you in the most unexpected places and take you by the hand," I attempted to explain, realizing that that statement was more true than I'd meant it to be.

"Wait, so did you really meet someone in town? Is that where this came from?" Ahjumma asked.

I laughed and glanced nervously at my camera crew. "No, it was just when I got lost and ended up next to the water."  Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.

"Well, good job. When will we hear it on the radio?" Mr. Kim asked.

"I don't really know. It might not be me who sings it. I'm a songwriter, not a singer."

Apparently that was hard for them to believe. Really, my voice is not that good. But they sent me to bed in a good mood.

The rest of the remaining days flew by faster than I could believe. Shoveling crap, feeding the animals, interacting with the animals. Mr. Kim took me horseback riding. Ahjumma taught me how to cook ten different Korean dishes. Every day was something new, something different. New lessons, new discoveries. Each day, when the day's work was done, we'd eat dinner, and I'd sing a song for my host family. I didn't write any new songs, so most of them were just covers of other songs, but I was getting better with my ukulele. And before I went to bed, every night, I'd get a few questions from my camera crew about what I learned, or what I thought about what I'd done that day.

Before I knew it, I was in the van on the way back to Seoul. I watched the scenery go by, thinking of all of the memories I had made in Jeolla-do in such a short time. They were sad to see me go, I think, but I promised that I would come and visit sometime. Still, I was a bit happy to go back to the city. I had something that I had to turn in to the company. 

While I was in the car, the crew started to ask me questions. 

"Did you enjoy your time out in the countryside of Korea?"

"I wouldn't say enjoy, exactly. It was a lot of hard work. But I did a lot of things I've never done before while I was there."

"Like what?"

"I shoveled out a cattle stall, ate a Korean breakfast, chose fresh vegetables, cooked kimbap, harvested rice, rode a horse by myself, and I even watched a calf being born. It may not have been much fun, but it was rewarding, I think."

They seemed to like this answer. There were a few more questions, but soon the trip relapsed into the silence from the initial trip down, and I found myself pulling out my ukulele again, playing my song and singing the words. 

"Meeeeeeeeeeeelllllllllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I could hear the yelling before I even got out of the van. I'd barely taken a step out when I found myself being lifted up in the air and swung around.

"Aaaaahhhhh!!!!!! Henry, put me down, I really, really, really have to pee!"

He did, like I had shocked him, and I dropped my ukulele into his arms and took off for the bathroom. When I came back, he was sitting on the ground with my bags next to him, and he had my ukulele out of its case and was plucking the strings. 

"Your crew left already. I told them to leave your stuff here. So, how was your trip down south? You have no idea how bored I was."

"No, I don't really know, because I was so busy that I thought my arms would fall off." I explained to him the highlights of my time out in the country, and he listened, occasionally playing the ukulele. He was especially interested in the part where I met Donghae in the market, though. 

"So that's where he went! That jerk, he was supposed to go out and eat dinner with us, but he went to Mokpo instead!"

I laughed. "I'm sorry I stole him from you." 

"Nah, he does that all the time. Well, not the randomly stealing girls from the marketplace part, but ditching us for his family. Not that we really care. He has a great family."

"Oh, I wrote a song! You want to hear it?"

"Sure! But can we go to the vocal practice room? People are staring."

"Like that's ever bothered you before," I replied sarcastically, but I got up anyway, grabbing my bags. He did the same, still holding my ukulele.

When we got there, he sat down on the piano bench and handed me my ukulele, indication that I should start playing. It was a bit more daunting to have Henry watching than to have my host family in Jeolla-do listening, though. I mean, I'm pretty sure half of those farmers couldn't tell a sharp note from a flat one, but Henry was your average musical genius. 

But I sang it anyway, and when I finished, he was quiet for a little while. Then he spun around on the piano bench, opened the cover, and started playing through the tune. 

"Is this your song?"

"...yeah? Is that bad?"

"No, no it's good, it's just...

"It's just what?! You haven't even told me if you like it yet!"

"It's just... I can make it better. Here, can I see your sheet music?"

"Sheet music?"

"Yeah, didn't you write the notes down?"

"Ummm, no..." 

"What do you mean? Why not?"

"Um, Henry?" How do I say this? "I can't... read... music..."

"You mean that you wanted to be a songwriter, and you can't even read music?! Geez, you're hopeless!"

"Hey, I said I wanted to be a songwriter! I never said anything about composing songs! I came here to fix the English in SM's lyrics, not make perfect notes."

He sighed. "This is going to be harder than I thought. Okay, since you can't read music, I'm going to figure out the notes as you go, with the piano, and you're going to pay attention while I write them down, so when we get closer to the end of the song, you should be able to do it yourself. Sound like a plan?"

"We're going to be here a while..." I muttered to myself.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Okay, start from the beginning, slowly. I might change some things, too. We could make this a pretty good one. Even if it is about Donghae hyung."

"That's not what I meant to happen!"

"Just shut up and start singing."

"You know, if I'm singing, then I technically haven't shut up..."

"Do you want me to help, or not?"

"Okay, okay, I'm going, I'm going."

At around midnight (mind you, I had returned to Seoul at around three in the afternoon, since I'd left Jeolla-do in the morning), I got a text message from Min Hee wondering where I was.

"I thought you were coming back today? I made dinner for both of us, but you're not here?"

I glanced at my watch to look at how late it was. Oh crap. I hadn't even noticed the time going by. The last time I had looked at my watch had been six hours ago, when I'd complained that I was hungry, so Henry ordered Chinese food to be delivered. 

"Henry, it's really late. I have to go to school tomorrow."

"Hang on, we're almost finished with the part you've already written. write down an 'E', alright?" 

"Got it. But what do you mean, 'already'? You mean we're going to add more?!" 

"Well why not? I'm having fun with this."

"Henry!"

Okay, it's not that I minded him composing more parts of the song for me. Really. Henry had worked with Super Junior's leader, Leeteuk (Park Jungsoo), to write "All My Heart" and "Andante", two of my all-time favorite SuJu songs. So he was definitely an excellent composer. I'd be stupid to reject his help. It's just that I really should have been in bed hours ago. 

"Okay, okay, fine. We'll just finish the part you already have, and then you can go home and go to bed. But you're staying after your vocal practice tomorrow and continuing this song with me!"

I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off. "Don't try to argue! You're staying whether you want to or not!"

Well, there went studying Psychology with John. Oh well. Looks like I was writing a song with Henry instead. Not that I minded.