2015—our last year together, as rowers in the same boat, as friends. I had always felt we would part ways in the end, but when that moment actually came, so soon and sudden, I was still thoroughly shaken by a surge of acute sorrow.

On December 31 we went to the Hangang. Since I first came here in 2012, we always convinced our managers to let us go out by ourselves for just one night on New Year’s Eve—so we went to Myeongdong and watched the pretty fireworks, we went to Lotte World and squandered all our allowances, and we went to Gangnam and drank till we were blind. This year, however, things felt different. Perhaps it was because Jennie had started seeing Lisa after Lisa’s 18th birthday this spring, and their smiles in each other’s presence could mortify the blooming cherry blossoms in front of the company building. Or perhaps it was because Jisoo and Chaeyoung had been talking, texting, and conveniently bumping into each other more and more frequently, and Chaeyoung could hardly contain the sparkle in her eyes whenever she saw Jisoo glance her way. Or, perhaps, we all felt that day was imminent, when a decision—an announcement—was at last to be made after four years of anticipation and suspense, and all of our lives would be changed forever, with no chance of return. Perhaps because of all this, I hesitated when Chaeyoung told me about the trip to the Hangang; after all, I would be the only girl there without a companion among the five of us—Jennie and Lisa were as open as a clandestine couple could be at a place where dating is contractually forbidden, and even though Jisoo and Chaeyoung were not dating yet, I had seen how much fun they were having poking around that thin film between friends and girlfriends.

“Don’t…abandon us like that, Elinor,” was her response after I told Chaeyoung my reluctance to go with them. “We always go together, remember?” She stared into my eyes, pressed my hand firmly, and gave a bright smile.

How could I say no to that?

So I agreed. And we were strolling along the river bank at night sometime after eleven. To our right was the Hangang, lighted by the moonlight above and all the neon lights of the city below. A chilly breeze was in our hair, rippling the reflection of the Moon in the river, and a chattering crowd was around us. Most of the people were young, like us, thus forming a crowd of lovey-dovey couples and prattling groups of friends, and a beam was on every face that passed by us. Perhaps because of the wintry breeze, all these people did not make me a little suffocated, as a crowd in Seoul of this size normally would before evoking my nostalgia for Hertfordshire. Rather, the air was unusually clear and crisp tonight, sprinkled only with the subtle fragrance that came from Jisoo before me. Chaeyoung and I were walking arm in arm a little behind Jisoo, and Jennie and Lisa were trailing behind us, presumably enjoying their little break from having to hide it whenever company staff members were around.

“Look!” Jisoo turned to Chaeyoung and me, beaming and pointing toward something.

“What?” Chaeyoung squinted along Jisoo’s hand. It was a big far, and the night made it difficult to discern at once despite all the lights; but soon enough Chaeyoung realized what Jisoo was talking about. “Balloons?”

“Helium balloons!” Jisoo exclaimed with a skip. “It looks like fun. Come on, guys, let’s go get one!”

I saw Chaeyoung brighten up immediately, and that special sparkle in her eyes was showing it self again. So I said, “You guys go on ahead. I don’t really like balloons in particular. Too old for kids’ toys now.”

“Nonsense!” Chaeyoung turned to me with a slight gasp. “You’re not even an adult yet, Elinor.”

I knew exactly what she wanted, so I only smiled while secretly rolling my eyes. “I always feel older than my age.” I disengaged Chaeyoung’s arm from mine. “Go on ahead, you two. I’d better check on Lisa and Jennie unnie before they fall too far behind and become lost in the crowd.” And not waiting for Chaeyoung’s reply I turned around and walked toward the other couple.

Jennie and Lisa were walking not too far behind. Jennie wore a black coat with a taupe cashmere sweater inside and a gray scarf outside, and an olive A-line skirt with dark gray leggings and black Chelsea boots. Lisa, with her arm hooked in Jennie’s, wore a gray cropped wool jacket with a beige knitted sweater, black jeans, and moss-green sneakers. It was quite subtle, but I could tell that they had carefully chosen their outfits to match each other as a couple.

As I walked up to them, Lisa had in Jennie’s ear, apparently whispering something funny, and Jennie grinned at something behind me.

“Elinor,” Lisa turned to me with a wide smile. “What are they doing there?”

I turned around beside Lisa and looked for Jisoo and Chaeyoung. They were facing each other, apparently in some bubbly chitchat, as they bounced toward the balloon vendor. A bright smile was on Jisoo’s face as she stared at Chaeyoung, and Chaeyoung lowered her head with a chuckle.

“They’re getting balloons,” I replied after observing for some seconds. “How ridiculous is that?”

“They look so chummy,” remarked Jennie. “I bet Unnie’s over the moon right now. God knows Chaeyoung is a million times better than that scumbag she dated last year.”

“I can sense Chaeyoung’s heart is about to implode at any time now,” Lisa added with a giggle. “She’s had such a huge crush on Jisoo unnie ever since she first met her.” Lisa turned slightly toward me. “You must remember it better than anyone else, Elinor.”

Indeed I do. It was when I first joined the company back in June 2012, and Chaeyoung had become my first friend in this foreign land. I was blessed to have her as a roommate, who, like me, had come from abroad and fumbled through the insidious aspects of the Korean society that no one had warned us about. And for the first few months I never went anywhere without her.

One afternoon in the company building, Chaeyoung and I were going down the hallway toward the practice room. She trod lightly on the basement floor, arms wrapped loosely around her tiny waist, eyes intently fixed on the half-open door that was our destination. I followed her closely behind. It was the first lesson for this new dance class that we had been assigned to take, and we were—more precisely, Chaeyoung was—very anxious to be there on time.

About a dozen people were already in there when we walked into the practice room, even though the lesson would not start for at least another ten minutes. I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that people here tend to be abnormally diligent, as if whoever arrived the earliest before the start time would get a free lunch or something.

Everyone looked at us when we walked in. And, after a quick scan, I determined that no one Chaeyoung or I knew was there—except this one girl in the front row on the far side, who struck me as a little familiar: She was slender, though not ethereally thin like Chaeyoung, but her figure was the type I had learned to be ideal before I came to Korea. And scarcely any makeup was on her face, but even without makeup it was still the most exquisite little face that to this day no one else I have met could exceed in its beauty. Her raven tresses hung loosely on her delicate neck, and her eyes, had they evinced any agreeableness in their expression, would have been utterly impossible for any human to look away from. But, perhaps luckily for my pubescent girlie heart, in her sable orbs there was nothing but a flickering star that hovered between scorn and derision.

Instinctively I had lain my eyes on her longer than on anyone else, as I tried to recall how she seemed familiar to me, when Chaeyoung started bowing and introducing herself in a timid voice. So I bowed after Chaeyoung, and uttered the only two Korean sentences I could say with relatively little stuttering.

Chaeyoung apparently also noticed the girl in the front on the other side. She gaped slightly when she caught a glimpse of her, but looked down immediately seeing that she was looking at herself with arms crossed on her chest. I finished my clumsy introduction when I saw Chaeyoung stare into the floor with eyes wide open. Her left hand was cupped in the fist of her right hand, both tightly held to her chest, and her cheeks began to turn pinkish.

The girl took a step toward us. “Welcome,” said she in a complacent tone, with a smirk across her face. “I’m Jisoo, and I’m the oldest in this class.” And the air with which she spoke suggested that “the oldest” should be understood as “the queen.”

But if Chaeyoung’s voice is like maple syrup, then Jisoo’s voice is like almond milk.

“Jisoo unnie,” Chaeyoung murmured in a frail voice as she gave a slight bow, and took a peep at Jisoo’s eyes before staring into the ground again.

After a round of introduction with everyone Chaeyoung and I moved toward the back of the room.

“Do you remember,” Chaeyoung suddenly whispered to me, “that photo of the new girl group member last month?”

“Isn’t that Lisa unnie?” I replied.

“No, no,” Chaeyoung shook her head rapidly like a little puppy. “The black-and-white photo!”

“Ah!” I remembered—Jisoo was the girl in that photo. And after thinking after it, that photo did not do her justice. Her walk and her smirk, albeit haughty and icy, were nonetheless so breathtakingly beautiful that a still picture simply failed to capture.

Chaeyoung seemed to agree. Now that we were behind everyone, she gazed straight into Jisoo’s back with no fear of being caught. And, as if she had carefully practiced it all, Jisoo tilted her body sideways and casually brushed her hair away, revealing a profile with an expression of cold disdain, as she blithely leaned against the wall with a curled leg and randomly let her eyes rest on the door, the stereo speaker, and lastly Chaeyoung, before returning to the door with her lips curling. It was highly effective. Chaeyoung’s eyes began to sparkle, her breath grew heavy, and her face turned red.

The door was shut when the lesson started, and the sudden noise aroused Chaeyoung from her intent observation. She exhaled, and rolled her eyes in an attempt to clear her head.

“Don’t you think…” said Chaeyoung slowly, twirling a curl, “…Jisoo unnie’s a little too pretty?”

I understood her. And soon we had the opportunity to assess Jisoo’s dancing.

I still think it is a wicked way to teach dancing, but we were given only half an hour to imitate and memorize the instructor’s moves before we were each asked to repeat them before the whole class. Jisoo, being the oldest, went first, while Chaeyoung and I, being the youngest, were reserved for the last.

And it turned out Jisoo was the queen of the class for good reason. The moment she went in front of everyone and started krumping, it was clear she was not just matchless in appearance. I knew so little about dancing at that time, but I watched Jisoo’s dance with my jaw dropped, and was helplessly captivated when she finished it with one fluid motion. I glanced at Chaeyoung, and I was amused to find her expression even dumber and more intoxicated than mine.

When Chaeyoung walked into the center of the room, however, every muscle on her face was taut, and her cheeks were so visibly red it seemed she could explode in agitation. She was, like me, just starting to dance at that time, and after she saw that everyone else was at least tolerably good, her tightly knitted brows indicated that she was convinced she would make a fool of herself in front of everyone on her first day in class.

I took a quick look around me, and no doubt everyone was looking at Chaeyoung with either mockery or conceit. It was my first taste of the unspoken rule in this place for the old and the senior to mock the young and the new. There was but one person that was different—Jisoo, to my surprise. In her eyes there was something other than antipathy. Instead, there was an eagerness in Jisoo’s expression that spoke something neutral or even agreeable toward Chaeyoung, as if she was sincerely looking forward to seeing this new shy Australian girl dance.

The music commenced, in complete disregard of how the whole situation fidgeted and embarrassed Chaeyoung. Sure enough, she faltered, missing the very first step, and nearly fainted as she took a nervous glance at everyone watching her fail on spot.

A sudden titter came from somewhere in front of Chaeyoung. It was short, but as sweet as nectar and as cheery as a sleigh bell. I involuntarily turned to the source of the giggle, and I saw a sunny smile dimple Jisoo’s dew-kissed cheeks. It was the most lighthearted, most bewitching smile I had seen in my fourteen years of life, and I could tell Jisoo was genuinely amused by Chaeyoung’s little mistake. Hearing the crisp titter, Chaeyoung lifted her head, and was instantly mesmerized when she saw it was Jisoo. For a second she stood frozen as the music played on, staring blankly at Jisoo’s smile, when everyone else then began to snicker and Chaeyoung snapped out of her daze.

The music was stopped, when Chaeyoung’s body started shaking as she looked down and bit her lip. Jisoo’s expression suddenly became stern. She clapped her hands, and at once silenced everyone’s mischievous snicker. Then she looked at Chaeyoung’s lowered head and said in a soft voice, “Come again, Chaeyoung. Don’t be nervous this time.”

Chaeyoung looked up in surprise, and, catching Jisoo’s warm gaze, returned a grateful smile. When the music started playing again, as if possessed by some spirit, Chaeyoung had a determined and composed expression that filled me with awe and admiration. She then went on and finished the dance flawlessly, with power and elegance not less than Jisoo. And when the class was over, Jisoo walked up to Chaeyoung and me, and said in a cheerful tone, “You can really well.” Then she turned away briskly. “Good luck, Chaeyoung.”

We walked back to our dorm both thinking we had fallen in love with Jisoo. I still feel embarrassed when I recall the stupid smiles hanging on our faces that night when we talked of nothing but the handsome Jisoo unnie, her dance that could arouse the keenest passion, and her giggle that could heal wounds and bring about world peace. For us, Jisoo was just what a girl should be—funny, sensible, energetic, and endowed with the elegance of Terpsichore and the beauty of Aphrodite.

However, my infatuation quickly burned out as Jisoo and we became friends, also as I started flirting with a boy I met at school. But it was not the case for Chaeyoung. Her affection for Jisoo was subtle, but constant and sincere. She never did or said anything that would allow anyone to suspect her feeling more than what was granted, but, as I learned later, in truth her heart had never swayed to any other person. As a result, Jisoo never realized she had gotten another admirer from her dance class, and only saw Chaeyoung as an attentive and caring friend. Thankfully, this spring Jisoo had finally started noticing Chaeyoung after ending her ill-fated relationship last winter, and now it seemed it all worked out for them.

I replied to Lisa, “Of course. No one can forget watching their best friend wait for someone for three years.”

“You know, Elinor,” Jennie said, still staring in the direction of the balloons, “Unnie has actually liked Chaeyoung long than you may realize.” She glanced at me, and looked away again. “But she didn’t know Chaeyoung’s heart—because she never said anything—so Unnie also didn’t want to say anything to spoil what they got. It wasn’t until Lisa told me about Chaeyoung’s secret, and I had to tell it to Unnie, that she finally decided to do something.”

“You really mustn’t blame Chaeyoung,” cried Lisa to Jennie. “She’s just not the type to initiate something like that.”

“Yeah, I figured that out,” Jennie rolled her eyes at Lisa and exhaled. “And I never blamed Chaeyoung, mind you. Anyway, I just hope those two will end up together happily.”

Lisa looked at Jennie with a smile. “Like we did!”

Jennie smiled back at Lisa, so sweetly that I felt impelled to look away. I could never bear public displays of affection, but I knew Jennie and Lisa both had no scruples about showing off their sweet adoration of each other. Sure enough I heard a loud kissing noise, followed by Lisa’s silly giggle.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, unnie.”

I almost puked.

For what was like eons to me, I fidgeted and yearned for Chaeyoung’s return as I suffered the two lovebirds beside me. It really surprised me that all their saccharine cooing and smooching did not make them sick of each other already—I know it would have me. So I thanked heavens when a heart-shaped balloon floating in the air bobbed nearer, and an excited Chaeyoung emerged from the crowd. She tripped toward us, holding the string to the balloon, and her cheeks all pink and radiant from all the tripping. Jisoo closely followed Chaeyoung with a baseball bat balloon in her hand, grinning widely, each eye shaped like a crescent.

“Looks like you guys are having fun,” Jennie snickered after Chaeyoung and Jisoo joined us.

Chaeyoung exclaimed they saw the Yeouido Park not far ahead, and jumped up and down hurrying us to get there before midnight. Lisa was immediately infected by Chaeyoung’s animation, and dragged Jennie toward the goal at warp speed, leaving behind me with Chaeyoung and Jisoo and their toy balloons. I gasped at the incredible energy that my friends all seemed to possess. My spirits were drooping as heck after an entire day’s irksome practice sessions in the company basement, but it seemed the devilish workload did not manage to exhaust any single one of them. It was marvelous that hope, and having someone by your side could sustain such high spirits even in the face of an insufferable amount of drudgery.

“Doesn’t this look nice?” Chaeyoung turned to me and asked in a voice squeakier than usual, pointing at the heart balloon floating above her head. “You should’ve gotten one with us.”

“Totally,” I replied with a smile. “Suits you well, unnie.”

Suddenly Jisoo gave a high-pitched laugh and yelled, “Dummy!” as she hit Chaeyoung’s head with her bat balloon from behind.

“Ow!” Chaeyoung turned around toward Jisoo while the back of her head. “I’m not a dummy, unnie!” cried Chaeyoung with a pout. “How can you call your honey dummy?”

I saw an irrepressible smile surface from Chaeyoung’s feigned frown, and I looked at her with an expression that said, “So you’re honeys now, huh? Nice…” But apparently she was too absorbed by Jisoo’s beaming face to even notice my presence.

“You’re my dummy,” retorted Jisoo with a silvery laugh. “Don’t you forget!”

“But I’m really smart, unnie!” Chaeyoung hopped up and down, pouting and smiling at the same time.

“You guys,” cried Lisa from some tens of yards ahead of us. “Hurry up! It’s almost midnight!”

“Oh!” Jisoo exclaimed with a jump, and began trotting ahead. “Come on, Chaeyoung, Elinor!”

Chaeyoung started a little when Jisoo said my name, and for a split second glanced at me with a stricken look, as if she just realized I was beside her. She immediately blushed a little, gave me a smile, and took my hand. “Come on, Elinor!” And she started half-dragging me toward the Yeouido Park.

We reached the Park with only a few minutes left before the New Year. We ran on the deck toward the Hangang, laughing and panting, only to be stopped by the railing. For a while we were standing there, catching our breath and letting the cool breeze brush our warm cheeks, and for only a brief moment the river that flowed beneath us felt strangely serene, as if all the clamor around us had quietened all of a sudden. We just leaned there against the railing, watching the river, the ferries and the yachts sailing on it, the neon lights across from it, and the distant fireworks that lit up the dark sky afar.

I glanced at Chaeyoung beside me. As I expected, she was gazing at Jisoo on her other side, the corners of raised slightly, her arms resting on the railing, her hands casually folded together. Jisoo was gazing into the distance calmly, her hair ruffled by the gentle wind. Jennie and Lisa were standing on the other side of Jisoo, smiling radiantly at each other, and Jennie had her phone in her hand as she checked the time once every few seconds.

“Guys,” Jennie said softly, looking up from her phone. “Ten seconds till midnight.”

Chaeyoung straightened her back as Jisoo turned toward her. The playful spirit that always lived in Jisoo’s eyes disappeared as Chaeyoung stared deeply into them, and a tender star formed in the center of her each pupil, glittering, as she gazed back at Chaeyoung. Jennie and Lisa were likewise facing one another, but both more vivacious, as if a hanger had been fixed in each’s mouth. For the ten seconds no one uttered a syllable, but we all knew that every one of us was silently counting, and waiting for the arrival of that special moment that only comes once per twelve months. And this New Year, 2016, we all knew would spell something different for all of us.

A loud bang came from the largest ferry underneath us, pronouncing the first second of 2016, as a stream of fireworks quickly ascended into the sky, and exploded spectacularly. And then a second one, and a third.

“Happy New Year!”

Jennie held Lisa’s waist, and closed her eyes as she leaned forward. A gentle kiss was accompanied by the fireworks lighting up their faces intermittently.

“Happy New Year, Lisa.”

“Happy New Year, unnie.”

Meanwhile, Chaeyoung’s breath had grown abnormally short, when Jisoo’s stare casually fell down to her lips. She trembled as Jisoo held onto her waist. Jisoo glanced back up into Chaeyoung’s eyes, with a bright smile, before closing her eyes and pressing her near. Chaeyoung’s hands were stuck helplessly between Jisoo’s arms as she kissed her, but after only a second they naturally grew out of the confinement, and locked down Jisoo’s neck as she started kissing her back.

I knew the lengthy waiting that Chaeyoung had suffered for this kiss, and I had wished it to be beautiful as much as she had. And the result was every inch the expectation. Chaeyoung’s closed eyes, her breath that turned swiftly from arrhythmic to steady, and her tranquil expression amid the noise and the lights of the fireworks, all spoke to me that she found her supreme bliss at this instant. I could not but feel profoundly moved by the beautiful ending that concluded more than three years of her waiting, without knowing whether it would ever come to anything. I was happy, because I knew at this moment she was the happiest person on Earth.

As if centuries had passed, their lips finally parted. On each face was a smile brighter than the Moon hanging above us in the starry sky.

“Happy New Year, Jisoo unnie.”

“Happy New Year, dummy.”

Chaeyoung turned to me and gave me a firm cuddle.

“2016—it will be the year of us.”

Notes