Frozen, I could only stare at Sunye’s quiet smile. She let go of my hand, and we both sat in silence. Finally feeling I had to say something, I blurted out, “Do you mean that?”

“Why should I joke about that kind of thing?” she returned.

“Oh, don’t take me wrong,” I traced the rim of my cup with my index finger. “It’s just…the way you said it.”

“Hm?” she pressed on.

“You seem so calm about it,” I finished off.

A soft chuckle escaped from her lips. “I had my days of crying and throwing a fit, Sunggyu. But that won’t fix things, will it? And I know where I’ll end up going. Of course, I still want to live, but what happens, happens.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t really know how to respond.”

“I don’t expect you to,” she said, her voice warm. “Oh my, did I just surprise the unshakable Kim Sunggyu? That’s one thing ticked off my bucket list, then.”

“I’m in your bucket list?” I scoffed.

“You are,” she nodded away. “Twice, actually.”

“Then what’s the other one?”

“I’m not going to tell you yet.”

“And here you are, telling me I’m too cautious,” I playfully teased.

“Two can play at this kind of game, don’t you think?” she took a sip from her cup, but her eyes were fixed on me.

“But of course,” I answered.

Having a rather casual conversation with her suddenly felt surreal. I kept on thinking, Why are you still sitting here? Time’s running out. Why are you in here when you could be out there?

“A Walk to Remember,” I blurted out.

She paused, and cocked her head; a knowing glimmer was present in her eyes. “Oh, so you know that book, too?”

“By Nicholas Sparks,” I murmured. “I suddenly remembered it.”

“Because I’m sick,” she pointed out.

I nodded. I didn’t want to admit it, but I did, anyway. I added, “She also kept a list with her, and she was part of the drama club, too.”

“I’m older than Jamie Sullivan, though,” she said. “But like her, I suppose I have similar dreams. Do you still remember how the novel goes?”

“I only read it once, but my younger sister loves the movie.”

“I see. You can say that urged me to actually make a bucket list of my own.”

“Ah.”

We let the background music fill the silence between us. Just then, she said, “Do you remember, what Jamie told Landon? The condition.”

“She made him promise not to fall in love with her,” I replied.

She nodded. “That’s right. But I guess I have another thing in mind.”

“Carry on,” I urged.

“I want that someone to fall in love with me.”

I looked at her. She was already looking at me. Her stare, at that time, was honest.

“Do you think it’s cruel?” she asked.

“If you do not tell, then it is, I suppose,” I answered.

She breathed out a sigh of relief, which puzzled me. Still, I didn’t dare ask. We both finished our beverages, and stepped out of the place. The smell of caffeine clung on our clothes, and whenever the wind blew, I would inevitably smell the lingering scent of coffee beans, along with Sunye’s faint strawberry perfume.

“Where’s your station?” I asked.

“Opposite yours,” she answered.

Before parting ways, we exchanged numbers. I told her to message me once she gets home. She said I should do the same. I agreed.

We kept on meeting up regularly afterwards. At first, it was out of pity. Nevertheless, the more I talked to Sunye, the more I enjoyed her company. She was witty, and kind. Her modest demeanor somehow got stuck in the groves of my brain. That is why whenever she messed up, or lost her poise, I could not help but laugh. Not out of spite, though. I found it adorable—to know someone as soft-spoken and brilliant as Sunye, could actually trip on thin air and spill her drinks. Somehow, that made her more human.

The both of us did things together most of the time. We exchanged schedules, and made sure we could eat lunch together. Our classmates began to notice, and whenever they asked what our relationship was, I would keep quiet about it. It roused rumors here and there, but I never cared, and neither did she. It was fun, spending my weekdays with Sunye. I loved watching her play her roles onstage. While listening to her lines, be it during rehearsals or the real thing, I could feel she was not the Sunye I came to know. Her usual image would vanish. On the stage, she could play the victim, or the oppressor. The glint in her eyes, the gestures she made and the intonation in her voice—everything about her would change, only to be replaced by a persona which only existed in scripts. She was an outstanding actress, and I suppose that was one reason why people never expected her to be a living time bomb.

It was after her rehearsal, and just as we were about to head out of the auditorium, a student from her department intercepted us, and asked, “Are you guys going out?”

Sunye was about to speak out, but I cut her off, and said, “Think as you wish.”

“Then I would assume that you are,” the student pointed out.

I smiled at her. “Like I said: think as you wish. Take care on your way home.”

We walked in silence, beneath the starless sky. I felt comfortable, despite carrying her things. When we reached the main gate, Sunye looked at me, and said, “Your ambiguous answers will lead them into thinking we actually are going out, Kim Sunggyu.”

“Well,” I glanced at her. “Do you not like that misconception?”

“That’s not the case here,” Sunye said. “I suppose I’m asking if it’s all right for people to think you’re going out…with me…”

The subtle shake in her voice caused me to look at her. Lee Sunye, who could wear impermeable masks at her own will, was blushing. I scoffed, and asked, “What is with that face, Sunye?”

“So do I not have the right to turn bright red and act like a shy schoolgirl?” she shot back in reply.

“If you ask me,” I replied. “It would be an honor to date a person like you.”

Suddenly, the air around us grew eerily silent. “You can’t possibly mean that, right?”

“I’m not as tender as other guys out there,” I stared at her. “But I meant what I said.”

“Still,” she pushed. “You can’t do it, can you? Date me, I mean.”

“Is that a challenge?”

A smirk escaped from her lips. “If you are going to say you can date me, for the sake of winning that challenge, then I suggest you do nothing at all. I am not looking for someone who can win relationships and treat them as trophies, Sunggyu. What I want is commitment.”

And I swear she became more beautiful in my eyes.

<:>

I got my driving license by spring. It was the same day as my twentieth birthday, and as a present, father bought me a black Kia Picanto. After giving Suzy and Sang Moon a ride around our neighborhood, I called Sunye, asking if she was free.

“I am,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just want to show you something,” I replied. “I’ll pick you up in an hour, will that be okay with you?”

“Are we going somewhere?”

“Are you expecting something?” I teased.

“Yes,” she honestly answered.

I laughed at her response, and said, “Do you remember the place I was telling you about? The high place—the cliff, with cherry blossoms. The cityscape is beautiful there.”

“Hm.”

“We’ll go there, and watch the sunset.”

“Aren’t we being sentimental today, Mr. Cold City Boy?”

“Especially for you,” I replied.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Is it working?”

“Not one bit.”

I chuckled. “I expected that. One hour, Lee Sunye. Deal?”

“Deal.”

I killed time by reading a book I found in my bookshelf that morning. The Little Prince. I remember buying it several years ago, because the illustrations intrigued me. I did not regret it, though, because for a children’s book, the content was deep. I began to wonder what things I would pick up from that short story, once I turn thirty. Surely it would be something different, because I would already be a full-fledged adult—and I hope by that time, I still would not forget the joys of being a child.

Although I never said anything, Sunye packed some food for us to eat. She placed everything in the trunk, and after fastening her seatbelt, I ignited the engine and went on our way.

“Are your parents okay with this?” I began. “You’re in a car with a healthy young man, after all.”

“They trust you,” she said.

“They’ve never even met me yet,” I replied.

“Oh, but I keep on telling them about you.”

“Is that enough?”

“Believe me, Kim Sunggyu, it is,” she had her eyes fixed on the road. “Because you’re the person I fancy, after all.”

My heart skipped a beat. I glanced at her, and said, “I could have crashed the car. There’s this thing called ‘timing’, Lee Sunye.”

“But you didn’t crash the car,” she said, rather triumphant. “And don’t tell me you never saw that coming.”

I could only give her a smile, because she was right. I was aware of her feelings. And what confused me was, I didn’t feel bad about it. Sunye turned the player on, and a song by Nell started playing. Soon, she began to bob her head with the rhythm. “What’s this song called?”

“Peter Pan Died,” I answered.

“Ah.”

She stayed silent again, and from the look in her eyes, she was listening to the lyrics. I let her be. When the song ended, she lowered the volume, and breathed out, “Wow.”

I didn’t reply.

“I remember you liking Nell, even in middle school.”

“Yeah.”

“What made you like them?”

“It’s a mutual understanding, between the band and I,” I stopped, upon seeing the light turn red. “They are doing me a favor.”

“By saying the things you can’t?” she suggested.

“Maybe.”

“This song,” she began. “I really like it. The title is quite smart, too. Peter Pan Died. The icon of eternal childhood. Dying. It’s like, the singer’s ideals are constantly being put down—it happens a lot, doesn’t it? We grow up, and realize the things we’ve fervently believed in were nothing but mere lies to appease our expectations. Wishing on a dandelion, or a shooting star; throwing a piece of tooth on a roof; tossing a coin into a well—stuff like those.”

“Hm.”

“But the singer’s trying to fight against the current, don’t you think? In the end, he still hopes. There really is a fine line between existing and living.”

She stayed pensive, while I carried on driving. We were already at the foot of the cliff, and it would take us another ten minutes before we could reach its peak.

“You know,” Sunye finally carried on. “With the way you are now, Sunggyu, you’re just existing.”

“You may be right,” I said.

“Let’s talk about that later, shall we? I may say something again that would cause you to really crash the car.”

I laughed in good humor, and she fixed her gaze on the blur of sceneries up ahead.

<:>

We finally reached our destination. She hurriedly got off the car, with that bright smile gracing her lips. What she did first was look up, and reach her hand out in order to catch a stray cherry petal.

“This is really nice,” she remarked, before locking eyes with me. “Thank you, Sunggyu.”

I smiled; shoved my hands into my pockets. “I’m glad you like it.”

“How did you find this place?”

“A random blogger posted this,” I answered. “And I’ve considered this as my secret place ever since. You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”

Upon hearing that, she curtsied. “It is such a joy, to hear those humbling words.”

I patted her head, and we both approached the barricade to have a better view of the cityscape beneath us. The buildings glimmered like crystals, and the cars were like a multicolored spool of thread against the gray motorways. The pastel sky, from where we stood, looked infinite.

“I saw a book in your car earlier,” Sunye said.

“You mean The Little Prince?”

“Yeah, that one.”

I looked at her. “What about it?”

“There’s that quote, ‘beautiful, but empty.’”

I scoffed. “Is that related to my way of existing, and not living?”

She flashed me that enigmatic smile of hers, and nodded. “Has anybody ever told you, that you are like the clear sky?”

“No, not really,” I answered.

“Well, you are,” she carried on, before raising her right hand heavenwards, trying to shield the translucent rays of the warm spring sun from her face. “People look up to you. You are bright, and you have this pretty color. Despite all of those, you are empty.”

“I see.”

A pause.

“Sunggyu, when was the last time you cried?”

"Crying is better than laughing.
It blotches the face but it scours the heart."
- Ecclesiastes 7:3