November 2016.

In the brief days of winter she went like a dreamer. Days that were barely days, moving from person to person, these new faces all coming into her life at once. It was almost beautiful in a way. Almost serene. To know so many and to still have that one person to value above the others, like a light guiding the way through the dark of some obscurant night.

On the Monday after she finished her lectures she took a walk around the campus. She crossed over at the Humanities building through the park grounds where in the cold glare of the duck pond the tall and lank shadow of the clocktower lay over the waterface like a castellated press of some city, and other shadows aside, like a mural painted in some vague palette of watercolours against the water’s surface. Here people sat feeding shelled corn to the ducks from small plastic bags. A long and cobbled path ran the distance of the grounds and where it bent away through the firs she made her own way through, like a pilgrim navigating some new and foreign land, phone in her hand, ready to take pictures. It felt like another world, like a place away from places there amongst the trees, sheltered from the cold. It smelled of oak and dirt and pinewood, a rich smell. Seulgi stood there for a while in the air. Beyond the confines of her own small world the cars on the main road shuddered. The ducks in the pond squawked, a girl laughed. Someone else was talking. She stood there between the trees until it began to rain and then she went home again.

She checked in on Wendy when she came back. Her door was propped open and she was sat at her desk poring over a notebook and when she saw Seulgi there in the doorway she smiled. ‘Hey,’ she said.

‘What are you up to?’

‘Not a lot. Copying some lecture notes and stuff. Are you coming out tonight?’

‘Coming where?’

‘There’s this new place that opened last week near Gangnam. We were thinking it’d be easier to get a taxi at like, ten or so. Are you in?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Come on.’

‘Pretty short notice, though.’

‘Seulgi, don’t overthink it. It’ll be fun.’

Seulgi though for a second. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Yeah. Why not.’

‘Great.’

‘What time?’

‘Whenever.’ Wendy smiled. ‘And get the others too.’

‘This is going to be a recurring thing, isn’t it?’

‘What? Spontaneous nights out?’

Seulgi nodded.

‘Yeah,’ Wendy said. ‘Probably. Get used to it. You only get chance to be a student once, right?’

But to this Seulgi made no response.

*  *  *

She was thinking about Irene before she knew it and she couldn’t stop. It had become a habit, perhaps in poor fashion. She sat there in the corridor with her back pressed against the wall and she listened to Yeri and Joy only briefly, laughing when they laughed, joining in with the jokes while they waited for Wendy to finish getting ready. They drank vodka from red solo cups. They played music loud enough for Seulgi’s flatmates to come and join them but none of them would come out with them. She thought of Irene again. Of her laugh, her smile. Thought about texting her. But in all her time she had come to know that friendships were a special thing, an organic thing, and she had lost enough friends to time and to things less cruel to know that she had no intention of doing that ever again. Each and every friend was sacred, in their own way, and no two were ever alike. And Irene counted amongst those.

She sat fondling her phone. She thought about her lectures, about her course. About all her life had culminated in and where she would go from here. She tried not to think about that. To not think about the future. About how long it could ever be. About what it held for her. About anything of the sort. She tried to think about Irene again. About anything else at all.

‘Hey,’ Yeri said.

‘Yeah. Sorry. What?’

‘You daydreaming or something?’

‘Something like that, why?’

Yeri finished her drink. She poured herself another absently as she spoke. ‘I said we’re going to go in a few minutes. Have you locked your door?’

‘Yeah. It’s fine.’

‘Alright. I’ll ring a taxi. You better have finished that when I get back.’

Seulgi laughed. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Whatever.’

*  *  *

It was almost strange. At first she thought she was dreaming. What else would make sense? She stood there by the bar peering over at Irene, at the outline of her jaw, her white and porcelain makeup, her piping soot eyes, the soft flush of red on her dappled cheeks. She did not notice Seulgi at all. She was nodding along to the pulsebeat of the music as if to her own rhythm, one hand tapping against the counter while she waited. Seulgi watched her for much too long while she sipped at her drink. She watched as Irene swayed ever so lightly, so small and effortless, so elegant. Tapping her fingers in some inordinate metronome of impatience on the countertop. Some guy came up to her and she smiled an awkward smile and ignored him and he moved away again. Seulgi had to laugh at that. She watched until Irene had her drink and then she went over.

‘Irene,’ she said. Irene turned to her. The smile that formed on her face had Seulgi’s breath hitching in .

‘Oh my god,’ she said, fighting to be heard over the music. ‘Seulgi. How come you’re here?’

She moved in for a hug and almost immediately Seulgi could smell that intoxicating scent of lemon in her perfume, on , her nape, her neck. ‘I came with a couple flatmates,’ she said. ‘Yeri’s here with me.’

‘Yeah? Where is she?’

Seulgi nodded towards the balcony. Against the lighted backdrop of neon it looked like some flipbook collage of colour intermittent in the shadows. Below a smoke machine blew a cool fog onto the dancefloor, so that standing there the patrons all dancing and moving undulate to the pulsebeat of the music looked like some coagulation of vaporous beings drawn up from a dreamworld. ‘She’s down there,’ Seulgi said. ‘I just came to get a drink. I’m with Wendy and Joy, too.’

‘Oh, cool. You should’ve said. I would’ve come with you.’

Seulgi could only apologise. ‘I didn’t think you’d want to come,’ she said.

‘What? Why? I’m always up for a night out.’

Seulgi shrugged. ‘I just didn’t. Sorry. I should’ve text you. Why are you here anyway?’

‘Same reason. I came with a couple flatmates. No idea where they’ve gone, though.’

‘Lost them already?’

‘Yeah,’ Irene said. She sipped her drink. ‘I don’t mind, though. It’s pretty here.’

‘Right.’

‘Like, I don’t get how it can be so busy and yet feel so empty, you know? And it stinks. And it’s sweaty. And why the do they have a smoke machine and why are they even using it? You can’t see anything down there. It totally defeats the purpose.’

‘You sound annoyed.’

‘I’m just mad I spent fifteen thousand won to get in and it’s this bad. I thought it was going to be great since it’s new, you know?’

Seulgi laughed. ‘Guess not.’

‘Yeah. Guess not.’

Irene looked about. A crowd had gathered behind them. Two guys in suit jackets pushed past them on their way downstairs and their drink went spilling over Irene’s arm. She flinched. They apologised to her and she brushed them away with a smile and when they were gone she turned to Seulgi. Seulgi just laughed. ‘What the is their problem?’ Irene said. ‘Who wears a suit to a club?’

‘Idiots?’

‘Clearly.’ Irene fell quiet. She peered about. As if looking for something between the mass of people. She looked back at Seulgi with a glint in her eyes. ‘You want to get out of here?’ she said.

‘What? And go where?’

‘I don’t know. Anywhere. Go for a walk or something. I’ve got a headache already.’

‘Too much to drink?’

‘Not even that. I think maybe it’s my body’s way of telling me I’ve wasted too much money and I’m dumb for even agreeing to this tonight.’

‘I mean, I guess it could be.’

‘You want to stay?’

Seulgi looked about. She looked back at Irene. At that perfect countenance. Beads of sweat clung to her forehead like ice. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’

Irene led her by the hand through the crowd. As if ascending from some sordid hell. It stank of alcohol and sweat. They pushed past, they navigated whatever space they could, the music playing out its own tired rhythm behind them, Irene still pushing through, Seulgi behind, hand in hand, so soft and smooth and small, vodka sloshing about in her cup, small bubbles steaming about the surface. Irene took her downstairs and towards the exit on the left and out into the cold air of the street. It was quiet and dark. In the light of the streetlamps the world had taken on almost a purple hue, like the buildings had been transposed through some sheet process onto another world, not quite the same the colour, not quite the same thing. They walked through the streets hand in hand and they laughed and drank and stopped and drank and moved on again. Nobody paid them any attention. Seulgi’s phone rang twice and she ignored it. Already she was feeling rather drunk and it was embarrassing. Her vision blurred on some strange and unfortunate axis tilting back and forth. She finished the last of her drink and winced and threw away the cup and Irene did the same.

They walked for a long time. They walked through the streets, they walked by clubs. They walked under awnings where against the rainswept windows their reflections looked like tracings seen through bad glass, like churchpane decorations, in cinnabar, in auburn, in teal. They walked until they were silent and they stopped by the riverside and sat side by side watching the slow rotation of the earth, the turning of the night in its silence.

After a while Irene said, ‘What time is it?’

‘Almost two.’

‘. Already?’

‘Yeah. Do you have any lectures tomorrow?’

Irene nodded.

‘What time?’

‘Nine.’

‘Guess you’re not making that, then?’

‘No. Probably not. What about you?’

‘I’m not in at all.’

‘Really?’

‘Yep,’ Seulgi said. ‘Got a free day.’

‘Lucky you. I think I might come over to yours if that’s alright.’

‘Sure. Why?’

Irene just shrugged. ‘Bored, I guess. There’s not going to be much to do if I don’t go to my lecture. And let’s be honest – I’m not going to my lecture.’

‘Fair.’

‘You free all day?’

‘I should be.’

‘Alright. I’ll text you or something.’

‘Sure.’

There fell a silence between them. In that space neither knew what to say. Seulgi just sat there. It was the beginning of something she had not quite felt before and in a way that was almost profoundly sad. This burgeoning love, this thing she couldn’t quite place. An equinox of the heart and elsewhere. Like existing some own wretched turmoil, as if serving only to torment. Her chest raced, her hands trembled. She watched Irene as Irene watched the river, watched the night. The line of her jaw again, the soft glimmer of the moon twinned in her eyes, the way her hair even slick with sweat fell so graceful over her shoulders, the smooth tracing of one shoulder bared from her shirt, the soft and wet red of her lips, everything about her. She watched Irene for a long time. When Irene turned to her she smiled and giggled.

‘What?’ Irene said.

‘Nothing. I just realised I’m a lot drunker than I thought I was.’

Irene laughed. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Me too.’

‘Think we should head back?’

‘Sure. It’s getting late. Or early, I guess.’

When Seulgi stood she almost fell again. For a moment she stood there by the bench tottering back and forth, palms downward facing as if to balance herself, to right her wayward motion. But it was of no use. She sat back again. One hand to her forehead. Irene giggled beside her. ‘What’s the matter?’ she said. ‘Can’t walk?’

‘Just give me a minute.’

‘You’re that drunk?’

‘Just a minute.’

‘And I thought I was a lightweight.’

‘Shut up.’

‘I’m just saying.’

‘I’ll be alright. Just let me rest a minute.’

She sat back and closed her eyes and pressed her palms to her sockets. Her head throbbed. The world outside seemed to spin again. As if set on some disc against her. Her legs felt like lead and all she could hear was Irene laughing softly beside her. All she could smell was that tang of lemon again, that soft scent awash on the breeze, so calm and inviting. So very Irene. It was eerie, in a sense. How she had known Irene maybe five weeks and yet it felt like five years, or more. Felt like half a lifetime. However long that might last. It was so different. So utterly different it almost hurt. She sat there a while longer. When she opened her eyes Irene was looking at her strangely. As if unsure of how to proceed. As if Seulgi was not Seulgi at all. Her eyes slightly hooded, lips parted.

‘What?’ Seulgi said.

Irene laughed. She seemed to change almost immediately. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Just…nothing. Thanks, by the way.’

‘For what?’

‘For coming with me.’

‘Where?’

‘Out here. For leaving. I didn’t want to be in there any longer. Couldn’t be bothered with it.’

‘Not a fan?’

Irene shrugged. She looked for a moment so sheepish, so insignificant. ‘I love it,’ she said. ‘Love getting drunk with friends. But sometimes I want something else, you know? Sounds stupid, being a student and all. I mean, getting drunk’s kind of what we do. But sometimes I just want to chill out, to just be myself. To just go walking or whatever. Doesn’t matter where. Through the city, along the river, in the park. I just love walking. And I know that sounds super cliché but it’s true, it helps calm me. Helps clear my head. And tonight I just sort of felt like walking.’

‘Did it work?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did it calm you?’

Irene was quiet. She smiled softly. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘It did. Thanks.’

‘We should probably get back.’

‘Yeah.’

Seulgi went to stand and Irene stopped her. Pulled her back down. Wait, she said. Seulgi turned to her. The next thing she felt was Irene’s lips pressed against her own, smooth and wet and desperate and so different, and the smell of her perfume mixed with the heady scent of her sweat, and her hair matted about her neck and caught around Seulgi’s mouth and over her own shoulder, and Irene’s hands awkwardly on her face, on her raw and cold cheeks, and Irene pressing against her nervous and unsure of what to do, of how to proceed. She closed her eyes, let Irene kiss her, kissed back. They kissed for a long time. When they parted she looked at Irene and what she saw of guilt in that visage was overwhelming.

‘Jesus,’ Irene said. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I got carried away. I’m sorry.’

Seulgi shook her head. ‘It’s alright,’ she said. She could still feel Irene’s lips against her own, a phantom kiss. Transfixed against her, transposed on some other time, some snapshot of a reality eternal. ‘It’s fine, honestly.’

‘I just get a bit weird when I’m drunk. Jesus, that was out of line.’

‘Irene.’

‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘Irene. It’s fine.’

Irene looked at her. For a minute they were both silent. Seulgi smiled. ‘Really,’ she said. ‘It’s fine.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. I mean, I’ll probably forget it tomorrow anyway, so what the hell.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Stop apologising.’

‘Right. Yeah.’

She fell quiet. She looked out at the night. At the living breath of some infinite night. She looked for holes in the stars, emptiness for the constellations. Where Aries and Draco sat perched forever more. The moon hung with impunity. Light from the dying sky sat folded away at the very edge of the world itself, fleeting and distant, moving on its own internal logic, like some ignis fatuus strung against the firmament. She smiled a soft and warm smile and it took all of Seulgi’s collective will not to take her in her arms and kiss her again right there and then.

‘Can I walk you back?’ Irene said. She turned to Seulgi. They shared in that short silence a sort of unspoken truth, a bonded word between them. As if they were something more already.

‘Yeah,’ Seulgi said at last. ‘Yeah. I’d like that.’