It's February. And it's cold. That's what's Son Wendy is feeling right now. Cold, sad and alone. She's cold because she isn't there to keep her warm. She's sad because she's not there for her. She's alone because she's not by her side.  Wendy is staring at the painting on the wall and carefully listening to the sound of coffee brewing in the coffee maker. Somehow, to her, the person in the painting looks oddly familiar to her.

 

The sound of cutleries clattering, chairs dragged across the floor, the smell of coffee filling the whole shop, customers chilling around. There are couples, old people and also singles. And Wendy is in the third category right now. She stares at the people passing by her table, the waiters running around taking and giving orders, people coming in and out of the cafe's front door, made her think, she had missed this so much. She missed it more to spend her time with her.

 

“Wendy.”

 

“.......”

 

“Hey, Wendy.”

 

“.......”

 

Wendy opens her eyes and turns to look at the source of the voice. She didn't even realized she had closed her eyes. Standing there, tray in her hands, held by the perfectly manicured nails, eyes looking at her full of concern.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Wendy rubs her eyes.

 

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

 

Joy nods her head and puts down the brown mug onto the table the short haired girl is seated. The tall girl smiled and pats Wendy's head, then walks away to take other customer's orders. Joy is one of her best friends. But even if she's one of the closest, she still can't keep her warm. Can't wash away the sadness. Can't fill the emptiness she's feeling in the depths of her heart. Wendy reached out to the camera that's been accompanying her ever since she entered the shop 30 minutes ago. It's a Polaroid camera. She turns the camera and checked to see how many Polaroid's left.

 

Four.

 

She turns on the camera and the lens popped out. She brought the camera to her left eye and aim it to the familiar painting on the wall. She pauses. But then she press her index finger on the shutter release and there's a capturing sound coming out of the camera. Slowly after, she sets the camera down on the table and waits for the Polaroid film to come out. When it does, she sets the film on the table and drinks her coffee as she waits for the image to appear.

 

Brown eyes wander to the whole cafe, doing the same thing it did just a few minutes ago. Her tongue felt the hot, bittersweet taste of coffee and the steam hits her face, but she didn’t mind. Her ears perked up when she heard a familiar voice, startling her.

 

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

 

“What is?”

 

“The cafe.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“And the painting.”

 

The Canadian looks down towards the Polaroid film and saw the exact same copy of the painting on the wall. She sets down her brown mug and cracks her fingers.

 

“Yes. Yes it is.”

 

Taeyeon smiles as she look at the 29 years old Canadian who is staring at the dark red cafe walls, probably thinking of nothing. The blonde took the initiative to take a seat across her and crossed her legs as she listens to the cracking sound coming from Wendy's fingers.

 

“Stop that. You know Irene doesn't like that.”

 

And Wendy did. She stopped. Hearing the older girl's name mentioned makes her feel distant. It gives her a little bit of anxiety. Even with the cafe door closed, and the heater on full blast, and her being a Canadian who was supposed to be accustomed to cold weather, it's still a little too cold for her. Even the table and chair she's sitting at feels as cold as herself.

 

“Did you come here with Tiffany?”

 

Taeyeon shakes her head. The blonde knows how Wendy hates it when Tiffany talks to her and said that it's okay to talk to the older girl about her problems, and Wendy always would ignore her. But it's Tiffany. The girl would never just easily give up on even the smallest things. Wendy sighs in relief and leans back on the metal chair and closed her eyes.

 

“I'm not trying to be Fany or anything, but are you okay?”

 

“.....yeah I'm fine, I just need some rest.”

 

Taeyeon nods her head, but then seeing as Wendy's eyes are closed, she's pretty sure the brunette can't see her.

 

“Oh okay. Are you going now?”

 

“Yeah I think so.”

 

Wendy opens her eyes to see that Taeyeon is still there, and although it's not clear, Wendy could still see it. The blonde is worried about her. So she smiles. Wendy smiles weakly, making Taeyeon smile the same way too. She rubs her eyes and push the metal chair slowly using her legs and stands on her small feet. She gulps down the remaining of her coffee and grabs her plain black tote bag that's laying on the floor. Taeyeon watches as the younger girl inserts her camera slowly, as in careful to not break it or even put a scratch on it. Then she grabs the Polaroid film and slips it in her coat's pocket then hung her bag on her shoulder.

 

“I'm going.” Wendy fixes her bangs that's poking her beautiful brown orbs.

 

“Sure. Bye.”

 

“Bye.”

 

Turning around, the short haired brunette walks towards the counter to pay for her black coffee, she was met with Joy who is smiling weakly at her. She knows. Joy is tired. She could see it from the girl's smile, eyes and her behavior. Wendy knows because she's feeling the same. Only that Joy isn't cold, sad and alone. She's just tired. Probably tired of the world. Who knows.

 

“Thank you, Wendy. Have a good evening.”

 

“You too, Joy. Rest well.”

 

From counting the money in the cash register, Joy's doe eyes look up to confirm the words that came out from Wendy but the older girl already walks out from the cafe entrance.

 

She sighs. Maybe Wendy's right.

 

As the 29 years old girl walks down the Bordeaux street, cold wind hits her pale face. She pulls her dark blue scarf so that it's covering half of her face as her steps are getting slower and slower. No matter how many times she walks down the street of Bordeaux, it always amazes her how beautiful France was, even without so much of skyscrapers.

 

Then she stops. She look up to see the Bordeaux Cathedral, looking down at her with all its might. The big building is lighten up and Wendy saw people coming in and out of the main entrance. She slips her hands inside her tote bag and fished for her camera. When the camera is brought to her eyes once again, giving her the nostalgic feeling of a certain someone and something, she brushed the thoughts away and click on the shutter release, hearing a satisfying click from the black device.

 

She waits. Wait for the film to pull itself out of the camera. Wait for the image to appear. She stands in the middle front of the cathedral,freezing her feet off, with the Polaroid film in her small hands.

 

Beautiful.

 

The cathedral is beautiful to her. And it must be the same with everyone. Because she saw people passing by, and they would have a smile carved on their lips. And it brought one to Wendy's own mouth too. She smiles as she felt the cold wind hitting her fragile body, prickling her skin in the right way. She thought of when it's going to snow. Wendy loves snow. She loves building snowman and have a snowball fight when she was little. She had just wished that she could to that again on the upcoming snow fall. With that been said, Wendy turns, making her way towards her modern apartment.

 

It was 10:30 p.m. when the artist leaves her studio and put on her beige coat, scarf wrapped around her neck and hands secured in pocket holes. She heard her staffs saying goodbyes to her and she smiles at them, hands in the air as in her way of saying goodbye.

 

She turns, her brown pupils grows as she look at the city lights around her. As she walks down the same route she takes everyday to go to her art studio and back home, she fishes out her earphones and plugs it on her iPhone. Earbuds now in her ear, she shuffles her playlist.

 

The other by Lauv starts playing.

 

She starts walking.

 

When she walks pass a shop, or a house, she would stare and admire the beauty of every concrete structure. Even though Son Wendy has been living in France for 4 years already, it didn't stopped her from admiring every building in France.

 

She didn't count. She didn't mind. She doesn't remember how long it takes for her to get back home. She used to care about a lot of things, but stuff happens. Now she's nothing more than an empty vessel.

 

She halts to a stop when she's near the medium sized convenience store. The sign board lit up, that says ‘let’s eat’ in French, and Wendy steps in, away from the coldness outside. The cashier, a boy, look up and said ‘Bonjour’ to her and she replied with the same word. Then the boy resumes his reading and Wendy thought he's probably doing a part time job here, considering that Wendy just meet him today and what he's reading.

 

Shakespeare.

 

A literature student.

 

She loosen her scarf and walks towards the shelves where there's chips and chocolates. She took three packets of Cadbury and five packets of Lays. Then, even with her hand full, she managed to open the fridge door and took out a big bottle of Coca-Cola. She puts down everything on the counter, making the boy look up to her. He nods his head in understanding and scans the barcodes.

 

When Wendy is done paying, the boy smiled to her and she replied with her beautiful one.

 

“Bonne soirée.” Wendy nods her head and steps out of the heated convenience store.

 

It was probably almost 10 minutes later, Wendy decides to count, that she arrives at her housing area. She was about to insert the key in the key hole when she heard something she hadn't heard for 4 years. She listens carefully, wanting to confirm if it's the truth she's hearing.

 

And it's true.

 

Wendy hated the fact that her hearing is clear.

 

Happy birthday to you!

 

Happy birthday to you!

 

We love you!

 

She listens and listens. Her head is now rested on the mahogany door of her house, key still in the key hole. It's been a long time. It's been a long time since that certain someone had wished her happy birthday. She wanted to cry, but she knows it's not good for her. She is lost. She didn't know what to do. She had stayed like that even after her neighbor stops singing. It felt like she had stayed there for more than 5 minutes. Thinking. Thinking of her. She shakes her head.

 

No, Wendy. No.

 

Even if she calls her, she's sure she wouldn't remember her.

 

So she shakes those thoughts out of her head and pushed the door open, leaving the cold air of France in midnight into her French-style house. She closed and locked the door and throws the key on the coffee table in front of the TV.

 

The disturbing image built on the white canvas made her think, what is she doing? What is she even painting? The 29 years old artist wonders. She left her brush and palette hanging as she clutch them. She leans back on her small, wood stool and think to herself. The soft ballad music playing in the air just made her think more, adding more ideas into her imagination.

 

A duck? No.

 

A rabbit? Nope.

 

A turtle? Absolutely not.

 

Then she thought. That's it.

 

A bear.

 

But why bear? She wonders. Wendy sat on the stool, unmoving, thinking, breathing slowly, eyes staring at the painting in front of her. She sat there for good knows how long. Then she heard something. She didn't heard it at first, but as the knocking sound repeats several time, she turns her head, eyes full of curiosity.

 

“Bonjour.”

 

“Bonjour.” Wendy nods her head, signaling the taller figure to come in.

 

The person stepped in her work studio, careful not to ruin anything on her way to stand next to the talented artist. As the person come closer, Wendy examines the friendly figure with her brown orbs.

 

The person is wearing a light blue coat, black jeans and boots with grey hoodie. And even though the person wears a cap, which is also black, Wendy could still see their dyed blue hair.

 

Amber flashes her a bright smile and Wendy returns with a normal one. She puts down her palette and brush and went to go wash her hand. After she's done, she came back to Amber who was staring at one of her paintings that she had hung on the walls.

 

“This is beautiful.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“This too.” The elder pointed to the painting beside the one she complimented earlier. Wendy thanked her again.

 

“Hmm. That too.” Amber turns and pointed to the wall across them, making Wendy nods.

 

“I swear to god, everything in here is beautiful.”

 

Amber turns to look at Wendy and she grins.

 

“Including you.”

 

Wendy smile's brighten and she chuckles. She thought to herself that she's grateful to have Amber here, in France. The older girl sometimes, would visit her and cheers her up. Sometimes, she would bring food to eat. Sometimes, she would paint together with Wendy. Sometimes, she would just took a stool from the room's corner and sit next to Wendy, watching her paint. She would just watch, and not say anything. Because Amber knows, Wendy is lonely. So to even have a company like Amber, makes Wendy felt grateful.

 

“So, I know you've been sitting in here ever since this morning…”

 

Wendy look at Amber with one of her eyebrows raised.

 

“How ‘bout we go grab lunch?”

 

Slowly, as if she was considering whether she would or would not go to have lunch together with Amber, she nods her head. Amber looks at her weirdly but let it go and stand on the doorframe while waiting for Wendy to grab her coat and cotton tote bag. Amber admires the girl's style. Beige coat, dark purple printed floral button up blouse, beige slacks and Converse. Simple, but classy.

 

Amber nods her head when Wendy approached her, and they went out, into the cold afternoon in the city of Bordeaux.

 

 

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I swear to God I'm gonna make a part two, so calm down okay? Anyway, happy birthday to our amazing, talented, beautiful Son Seungwan!!!! Btw, I cried watching that vid where she talks about her family, friends and all while she's crying. I know you cried too, so shut up. Thank you for reading!