He always found this one particular girl amused him. He never know why.

Since he first saw her three months ago, he already knew that she only be at the campus a few times in a week. Every Monday and Friday afternoon at the park, always with a book in her hand and an ipod attached to her ears; and every Wednesday morning at the library.

Almost at the same time as if she is a princess from a magic kingdom that was being cursed to be only appeared at that particular time. Not that he took a note of when and where she would take her appearance.

But he was no longer five years old, so he knew that should not be the reason. Something more rational might be.

He started to watch her then. Wondering when he could find the right time to talk to her and ask her name on a normal introduction. But on the back of his mind, he knew that nothing would be normal in related with this girl. Maybe included the way they would finally meet face to face.

And indeed, it was not normal.

He was looking for a book that could inspire him to write the new song for their next concert when he saw Tschaikovsky’s Swan Lake. He was moving his hand to pull out the book from the rack, when someone’s hand had pulled it out before him. He was starting to scowl at the person, when his eyes met a pair of beautiful brown eyes of the girl who he had been unconciously stalked for the last few months. Oh No.

“Uh, I am sorry.” she bowed and apologized, “ I was too concentrated in the book so I didn’t see you there.” He shook his head while tried his best to get out from his trance upon saw her materialized in front of him like that.

“Uh, that’s ok. I didn’t see you too.” They both smiled. “Do you urgently need the book?”, she asked, “And just out of my curiousity, why a guy like you interested in Swan Lake?” He shrugged, “I need some inspiration to compose my next song. And I heard Tschaikovsky is a good inspiration.” She beamed, “He is. I love him. He even could make an angsty end as a happy feeling for his audiences.” He amused, “You really know about the guy.” “I do! He’s one of my idol.”

He looked at her again and suddenly he had this crazy idea, “Hmmm, since you are an expert on him, could you tutor me on how to understand him? I have to do a good composition or I will not pass my last exam.” She raised her eyebrows as if she needs to think hard on the offer, before she nodded. “Ok, but we need to do this at the park. I am not really a silent reader.” He beamed back, “Great! Thanks!”

She smiled and walked away. Then he just remembered something, “Hi, what’s your name? And how will I find you for our lesson?” She glanced back to him before answered, “I think you already know that I will be at the park every Monday and Friday afternoon. So I see you on next Friday!” she giggled and continued to walk.

He was speechless, before the understanding downed on him. Then he smiled. Ha! Apparently not only me who was stalking on her, she was also checking on me! Wow.

So the next Friday he went to the spot where he knew she would be. And he was fifteen minutes too soon. Yes, shamely, he knew that details about her routine at the campus.

He was still fidgeted (because he was too excited) when he felt a soft touch on his left shoulder. “Kyuhyun-sshi! I am sorry you wait too long!” He was stunned that she knew his name. “How do you know my name?” She showed him a small book that he recognized as his note book which he lost a week ago. “You dropped it there.” She pointed the spot behind the tree where they sat now.

He was blushed. He knew that she knew he was stalking her,  but he never thought he was that clumsy when it was about her. She laughed and offered her hand, “By the way, it will only fair if you know my name too. Sorry I was being impolite. I am Seohyun.” Seohyun. Even their last name is similar. He took her hand and shook it. “Hi Seohyun-sshi, nice meeting you.”

And that was the beginning of their beautiful friendship.

Now people could see them sitting under the tree, at the same spot that she used to sit with her book and her ipod. But know it was them with their pile of books and two ipods. Though sometimes they shared one ipod that played his new composed song.

Or that a table in the most outer corner of the library, on every Wednesday morning, would always filled with the same two people with a stack of books, mostly stories of inspiring actors, producers and musicians.  And both were talking softly while tried their best not to burst their laughter and annoy the librarian lady.

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