Myriad stars now dot the inky canopy like scattered moon dust in the sky, and a low, waning gibbous moon hovers tenuously in the twilight firmament, bestowing a dim light upon the land. From the bottom, the sky appears like an empty area of hollowness and emptiness, but the view from the top highlights the bright neon lights and electronic billboards which lights up the entire city, and aside the dark, wispy cloud eclipsing the crescent moon which creates a dull aura of lunar luminescence, darkness is nowhere to be seen otherwise.

 

With a jug of chocolate milk held firmly in her grip, a particular brunette stretches her neck and gazes at the night sky; she sighs.

 

Jung Wheein is nothing but an ordinary high school girl. She isn’t extraordinarily smart; she’d skip school occasionally like any teenager could and would; has a couple of close friends and a family who loves her so much she’d unconsciously take them for granted. Wheein is unique but isn’t all that special, really. Like many others her age, life is nothing but a series of ups and downs, a world of uncertainty, and while watching the bright stars twinkle in the night sky, she hopes to maybe, maybe find her purpose in life.

 

Wheein perches herself on a chaise at the balcony, before taking a sip of the warm chocolate milk. She’s known it’s midnight and everyone else in her household is asleep, and although the case of insomnia has never really affected Wheein, she finds herself up and awake this particular night; she couldn’t really sleep. Thoughts about school begin rushing to her mind, and Wheein realizes she could go to sleep, go to school tomorrow, make her teachers and parents happy. She gets up from the chaise with an empty jug in hand, whirls around to draw open the door of the balcony, but stops in her tracks so suddenly she has to grab hold of the handle of the chaise to prevent herself from toppling backwards.

 

There is a shimmer of faint light, and a lump of dim shadow gradually emerges. Wheein gasps and clasps with one hand, the other shaking so violently she eventually loses grip of her jug. She could’ve sworn she saw the shadow moved, and in the next moment, her jug has been retrieved in her hands. Wheein digs her nails into her palms till it turns herringbone, but nothing happens other than the pain sipping through her skin, and Wheein knows she can’t be dreaming.

 

Before her now stands a human, or rather, flickering light collected together in the form of a human. Wheein blinks and takes in a deep breath.

 

“W-Who are you?” she croaks, her voice almost foreign.

 

Wheein watches as the other breaks into a smile, a smile so friendly and heartwarming she isn’t sure what to believe and what not to. No, she’s not human. Wheein thinks to herself and clears again.

 

“I-I mean, what are you?”

 

She watches as light starts to recollect before fading away; she now sees a human.

 

“You can call me Byul.”

 

Byul’s voice rings like clear water in Wheein’s head, and as much as Wheein wants to doubt her, she can’t. She forces out a scoff.

 

“Byul? As in like, star?” Wheein coughs out her best sarcastic tone.

 

Byul nods, and gestures a finger towards the sky. Wheein follows the direction and finds a star shining bright at her.

 

“Right where I came from.” Byul says, without a twinge of lie in her tone. Wheein still doesn’t believe.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

Wheein watches as Byul draws out a rectangle-shaped device, almost like a detector, and points towards the screen. Wheein squints.

 

“We measure happiness.”

 

Wheein frowns and Byul grins.

 

“Yours currently stand at two stars, out of five.”

 

Wheein shrugs and looks away, her teeth unconsciously sinking themselves into her bottom lip. Her eyes dart as though something was caught in them, and her feet shuffles alternately; right to left, and then back to right again.

 

“You’re unhappy.” Byul points out. Wheein laughs.

 

“I’m okay.”

 

Wheein still doesn’t believe what she’s seeing, or at the very least, what she’s hearing. She tightens her grip on her jug and takes off as quickly as she can, making her way to nowhere else but her bedroom, burrows her head into her pillow and wraps her blanket all around herself. She shuts her eyes and prays that sunrise will soon greet her.

 

-

 

 

Scorching sunrays penetrate their way through the glass window, bathing the entire room in the warm glow of the rising sun. Wheein’s eyelids flutter open as sunlight taps against her face; she drapes one arm over her forehead.

 

“Good morning.”

 

Wheein jolts into position immediately, her back knocking the wooden headboard and her knees folded to her chest. She holds up her left arm in defense.

 

“Get out.”

 

Byul sits herself at one corner of the bed, and stares at Wheein adoringly, her eyes twinkling with warmth. She smiles, and Wheein groans.

 

“I will if you come with me.”

 

Wheein stabilizes her breathing and allows a train of endless thoughts to run in her mind. Can she believe this human who claims to come from a star?

 

“No.”

 

“You have to.”

 

“No.”

 

“You must.”

 

“No.”

 

“You-”

 

“Fine!”

 

Wheein raises both hands in defeat, her temper rising and her lips now drawn into a snarl of fury.

 

“Just-” she pauses and her lips, her face flushing scarlet. “Get out, I’ll be there in a minute.”

 

-

 

Byul taps a finger on her thigh and looks around. Wheein’s house is plain, simple, but cozy. She couldn’t really understand why Wheein would be unhappy. Previously, people she dealt with were abusive, dark, or simply problematic. Wheein is different. Wheein is beautiful, pure, and Byul feels the urge to make her happy. She raises her head when she sees Wheein enter the living room. Her dress is decorated in pink, with a flowery fringe at the neck. The sleeves hang gently around her elbows and the bottom of the dress pool near her knees.

 

“You look beautiful.”

 

Wheein says nothing, only plants herself on the other end of the couch, but Byul notices the pinkish hue on her cheeks, and forces herself not to break into a smile.

 

“So what’s happening to me?”

 

Byul shakes her head.

 

“Nothing is happening to you, I’m only here to raise your happiness. Do you have a close friend?”

 

“Of course I do.” Wheein answers, fishing out her phone and scrolling through her camera roll to find a picture, only nowhere to be found.

 

“You haven’t been hanging out with her lately.”

 

“I-”

 

“Call her over.”

 

“What?”

 

“Call her.”

 

Oddly, Wheein doesn’t question, doesn’t hesitate, but dials in the phone number and waits patiently for the call.

 

“Hello?”

 

Wheein looks over, as if waiting for a signal. Byul nods, telling her to go on.

 

“Hey, Hyejin, can you uh, are you free?”

 

Wheein remains silent for a few seconds, pressing her ear to her phone and listening intently. Then, she looks over again, and Byuls nods her head once more.

 

“I was just wondering if, uh, if you’d like to come over for a chat.”

 

Byul suppresses a giggle as Wheein stammers uncontrollably, and Byul wonders if she’s ever met anyone as adorable as the brunette sitting across her.

 

“She’s coming over.”

 

Wheein puts down her phone and Byul snaps out of her thoughts.

 

“Good.”

 

“And what am I supposed to do?”

 

“Whatever you want to.” Byul notes, almost like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

 

“Spending time with friends raises your level of happiness.”

 

Wheein opens to object, but before she could utter any form of argument, the doorbell of her house rings. She turns to the door; turns back to reply Byul, but finds the latter vanished.

 

-

 

“Do you, by any chance, have ghost abilities?” Wheein asks and Byul breaks into a fit of laughter.

 

“Of course not.”

 

“Vanishing suddenly into nowhere and appearing out of thin air, you’re telling me that’s normal?”

 

“It is.” Byul presses her lips together. “Well, at least for me.”

 

Ingredients lay scattered across the sink at the kitchen, pots and pans are readied wherever they’re supposed to be. It’s an hour to dinner time, an hour before the Jung family settle themselves at the dining table and indulge themselves in a possibly silent meal.

 

“And now, a normal person with ghost abilities is instructing me to cook a meal for my family.” Wheein states monotonously.

 

“That’s right.”

 

“When I’ve never successfully cooked rice since birth.”

 

“Right again.”

 

Wheein glares at Byul with a look of disbelief plastered over her face. Byul laughs again.

 

“I guess you can trust my ghost abilities.”

 

Byul wiggles her fingers and flings her hands around widely, mumbling inaudible words and Wheein breaks into fits of giggles. She shoves at Byul’s right arm and Byul pretends it hurts; she panics and Byul laughs at her; she pouts and Byul pecks at her forehead.

 

-

 

“Moon Byul.”

 

Byul whirls her head around to witness Wheein gawking dreamily at the night sky.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Moon Byul.” Wheein echoes.

 

“That's your star, isn't it? The one nearest to the moon?”

 

Byul follows the trail of Wheein's finger, slightly taken aback by the fact that Wheein actually takes note of the slightest things she ever said.

 

“That's right.” Byul nods her head, and watches as the other breaks into a wide grin.

 

“Then you're Moon Byul, makes you unique.”

 

Wheein giggles, and Byul finds the corner of her lips twitching upwards, her front row of teeth partially shining.

 

“Okay, I’m Moon Byul.”

 

They stay silent for a few minutes, drowning in light twinkling from the stars, and Moonbyul wishes she wouldn’t miss this moment once it’s over, but she knows she will.

 

“So what happens, now that you’ve done your thing?” Wheein says, a tone of desperateness and longing in her voice, and Moonbyul wishes she didn’t hear that.

 

“I’m going back.” Moonbyul says, surprised her voice didn’t shake, didn’t betray her.

 

“What happens if I become sad again? What happens if it’s back to two out of five stars?” Wheein pleads, her gaze still fixed on Moonbyul. Moonbyul avoids eye contact, she knows it’ll hurt if she looks at the other.

 

“I don’t know, it doesn’t work that way.”

 

Moonbyul turns to face Wheein, whose eyes are now filled with shimmering tears.

 

“You’re supposed to be happier when I leave, not sad.”

 

“But-”

 

“Come here.”

 

Wheein shifts and nuzzles her head into Moonbyul’s left shoulder; her body now wrapped in arms she hopes will never let go. Moonbyul chooses to ignore the sniffing noise Wheein makes and the fact that the area just below her left collar is getting wetter and damper. She Wheein’s back gently, and her heart hurts; it was never this hard to let go.

 

“Can I say one last thing before you go?”

 

Wheein looks up at Moonbyul with cheeks stained with tears, quivering lips, and eyes bloodshot red. Moonbyul tries hard not to feel, not to look away. She nods.

 

“I love you.”

 

Three words slip out of Wheein’s lips in the dark silence and Moonbyul finds herself nodding endlessly. She blinks non-stop as her eyes start to sting, and pulls Wheein into an embrace.

 

“I know.”

 

Wheein breaks into tears again, her voice muffled as she cries onto Moonbyul’s shoulder. Hot, salty tears now flow endlessly from her eyes as they drip off her chin. She shakes and gasps, gut-wrenching sobs tearing through her chest and convulsing her small body.

 

A single tear trickle its way down Moonbyul’s right cheek only to have it hastily wiped away; she isn’t supposed to feel. It feels like eternity before Wheein stops crying, before Wheein becomes silent. Her eyelids start to droop and flutter close, her lips parted slightly as her consciousness ebb away. Moonbyul detaches Wheein’s body from her own, lifts her up and rests her onto her bed. She hovers over the other just to take one last look at her and absorb every speckle of beauty she can, hoping to register them in a portion of her memory.

 

“I love you too, Jung Wheein.”

 

-

 

A golden glow spreads across the sky and the rooster crows, signaling the start of a new day. The sun rises in a pool of crimson and gold, spilling light all over the land and the white clouds. The birds chirp happily as they perch themselves onto tree branches, just beside nests filled with eggs that have yet to crack.

 

Wheein wakes up to an empty bed.

 

“Byul?” she calls, still bearing a twinge of hope.

 

Nothing.

 

“Moon Byul?”

 

Wheein glances around her bedroom, flings open the door of her bathroom, searches the entire living room, crashes into the kitchen; nothing.

 

Wheein returns to her room with slumped shoulders and a lowered head, but notices messy scribbling on her pink notebook on the nightstand beside her bed; something she didn’t notice when she woke up. It read:

 

Look at the stars tonight

Maybe you’ll see me, maybe I’ll see you

Maybe it’s something we don’t know

Maybe it’s something we hope to know

 

From: Moonbyul, the human who came from the stars and has ghost abilities

 

Wheein beams, her smile reaching her eyes, lighting them and causing them to crinkle at the corner, and the ends of turn, her dimples flashing.