The air was humid and cool as we meandered along the muddy trail of the thick conifer forest, our backpacks slung on our backs and the lush ground squishing under the rubber soles of our hiking boots. Beyond us was nothing except endless green, pristine and untouched. Canada was in complete contrast to anywhere I’d gone despite the fact that I had flown all across Asia to Paris and to Prague during the past year.

      “So what do you do now?” I asked Rena as we trudged along the trail. I remembered completely losing touch with all high school friends after fully committing myself to train at SM Entertainment. Getting to know Rena, at least, would be my first step to regaining myself.

      “Nothing related to music, for sure,” she chuckled.

      I was taken aback at how effortlessly she gave the answer. She used to be the top senior in our high school, and it was shocking to hear that she had abandoned her talent, presumably because of the lost award.       Sensing the unease in my expressions, she said, “Now don’t get too over your head – it wasn’t because of you.”

      “Why did you give it up, then?”

      She shrugged. “It just didn’t feel right, I guess. Besides, the burden of paying for musical academies was too heavy for my mom alone. After she decided to emigrate out of Korea, I’ve decided to adopt a more helpful career.”

      I was going to repeat my first question before she swiftly diverted my attention, seemingly intentional. “Why don’t you tell me about the celebrity life? I know you are not just famous, but an icon in Asia. How’s that like?”

      I thought of the atrocious mess back in Asia, splayed from Korea to Japan, and all the way across the Pacific Ocean to the United States. After a momentary pause, I told her, “Well, it’s not a breeze and not as glamorous as you’d think.”

      “Why not? There were five of you, weren’t there?”

      “Yeah. That’s what makes things complicated.”

      “Because of the disband right?” She said quietly. “I heard.”

      “So you know that basically everything’s ruined and my life is in flames,” I cast my eyes out to the coniferous forest. “I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

      She scrutinized my annoyed expression for a second, sensing that I had clammed up on the topic. For the rest of the hike, we trekked through the proliferated bushes and towards our designated camping ground in silence.

      As we reached the clearing, Rena finally spoke again. “Wasurenaide, what does it mean?”

      “It’s Japanese, meaning ‘don’t forget’.”

      She shot me a glare. “I know that, with translations on the internet at all. But don’t forget who or what? Is it written for someone?”

      “If I tell you, are you going to tell me about your job?” I bargained.

      Rena smiled good-naturedly. “Well, it is my song after all. I think I have the right to know the details.”

      “Point taken,” I reply. As we set our camping gears down, I say, “In all honesty, it was just written intuitively. I have no idea who or what it might be for.”

      “You wrote it?”

      I nodded. Then I said, “Sorry to disappoint you, but by the looks of it, I don’t think it will ever be dedicated to anyone.”

      Rena frowned. “Why do you say that?”

      “Because,” I turn away from her as I answer, “everyone hates me.”

 

      Nightfall drapes over the gloomy skies after hours of setting up our tents and collecting enough wood to build a fire. When Rena finally lit up the woodpile with a match, the first star had already appeared near the horizon, shimmering through the dense web of branches surrounding us.

      I examined Rena as she skillfully plopped marshmallows onto crackers and sandwiched gooey white sugar with chocolate. “Do you do this often?”

      “My mom has always been an outdoor person.”

      I recalled Aunt Sung’s chipper attitude. “I can tell.”

      “So she kind of embedded the ‘outdoor’ habits in me. Even without her, I like to go out to the woods on my own.” She handed me the dripping finger sandwich, “Here, try this.”

      I eyed the offer skeptically, “What’s this?”

      “It’s called a s’more. You haven’t lived life until you’ve tried this.”

      Hesitantly, I took a small bite. The sugar, rich chocolate and the crunch of the cracker mixed together impeccably. It was typically North American to build a treat so utterly perfect and obviously terrible for health. I stuffed the rest of it in my mouth and chewed frantically to expel the heat. Gulping down the mess, I said, “God, I don’t think I’ve been allowed to have anything this good for the past six years.”

      Rena arched an eyebrow. “So with all the money, they don’t even feed you?”

      I rubbed my stomach. “Need to maintain the six-pack abs. You don’t get that from sitting around and eating chocolate all day.”

      She shook her head and assembled another sandwich. “Well, in that case, have some more. I think you could use the weight.”

      After the s’mores came the beer to wash it all down. Surrounding us was a mixture of wind breezing over treetops and the gentle crackling of the fire.

      “It’s nice here.” I said.

      Rena settled herself beside me and tilted her head up towards the sky. “You can see a lot that you can’t see in the city.”

      I nodded in agreement then ironically took out my cell phone to check the mailbox: there were two messages, one from Yoochun and one from Junsu, no missed calls. I shoved it back into my bag and took a swig of my beer. I didn’t want to know what they tried to communicate.

      “Come on,” she knocked the beer can out of my hand playfully, her eyes on the sky above us. “You would want to be sober for this because you’ll never be able to see this many stars again.”

      I gave her a skeptical glance and followed her gaze. She was right: it was the scenery of a lifetime. The clouds from the day had dispersed in all different directions, and a million diamonds were blinking down at us like jewels falling from the sky, their faraway glimmers overlapped each other and drifted across an endless canvas.

      For a moment, I felt completely immersed within the natural brilliance and momentarily who I was. I suddenly felt very small - an insignificant existence among the twinkling stars.

      “Amazing, isn’t it?” Rena breathed, pointing to the northern sky, “I see Orion, Big Dipper...” She traced along the sky, and giggled to herself. “Aw, I always have trouble finding Cassiopeia and it should be the easiest one...”

      I felt myself flinch as I downed the leftover beer. It was her single word that abruptly reminded me of my identity again. I expected her to be inquisitive about my celebrity life again, but she never hesitated as she moved on to identify Aquarius, Gemini and other constellation, all of which I’d never considered.

      When she found my eyes burning a hole through her cheeks, she snickered and told me to wipe the cyborg look off of my face.

      “I thought you were going to ask me about my celebrity again.” I told her a little too bluntly.

      “Because I mentioned Cassiopeia?”

      I dropped the empty beer can to the ground and watched it roll down the tiny slope wordlessly.

      “I thought you might say that,” she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t search hard for Cassiopeia on purpose, knowing you aren’t a fan of others sticking their nose in your business.” She stuck a marshmallow on a stick and watched it burn in the flames, “I got that – so I’m dropping the subject. Since career choices are taboo topics for both of us, let’s just make a deal to not talk about it anymore, okay?”

      “Deal.”

      Though I was surprised at her mention of our career paths: I pondered what Rena’s job was like. It seemed that she had already known everything about me—from past to present—and I had no knowledge of her past years at all.

      “But I have to say, Cassiopeia really is beautiful—it’s the only constellation that made sense to me.”

      I found myself agreeing unknowingly. “Me too.”

      She tilted her head and smiled at me. I couldn’t look away—there was something captivating and breathtaking about this scenery: the fact that we were sitting in front of a flickering bonfire, under the veil of stars and surrounded by silence... It resembled the scenarios in every love story, which were probably included for a reason.  

      We were sitting close, and her chin was only inches away. I reached out instinctively and took her face in my palm, my lips on hers before either of us could blink twice.

      The crackling of the fire and her burnt marshmallow interrupted the delicate moment, and she recoiled from my touch, her face scarlet bright in the night.

      “I-I’m sorry.” I stuttered dumbly, looking away. “I shouldn’t have packed beer with me.”

      “That’s alright,” she said quietly and got to her feet without looking at me. From her side profile, I caught a glimpse of discomfort crossing her face. “Let’s just go to bed.”

      I nodded and watched her shuffle towards her own tent, zipping it shut. “Good night.”

      “Good night.” I whispered hoarsely, my throat dry. I wasn’t sure if she had heard me, but I heard no movements inside her tent. I stared at her tent for a long time before routinely pulling out my cell phone from my backpack, hoping to seek advice from Yoochun. It was then I had realized that the dwindling signal in the wood had disappeared.  

      .

      I grabbed a fistful of dirt and grass, tossing them into the fire.