Kim Gaeul has always been spontaneous. She didn’t think far, plan further, or even if she did, nobody would know. He could remember from back when they were still children Gaeul would suddenly decide they wanted to have fried chicken or boiled eggs; out of nowhere and for no reason, and do everything that her little self could muster until she’d acquired what she needed. When they were only twelve, she decided, completely out of the blue, that she needed shorter hair. She wanted him to cut it, so that her parents wouldn’t find out. If not for Sung Gyu who couldn’t sneak in a pair of scissors from his mother’s kitchen cabinet without getting caught (he did get caught) Gaeul would’ve had a disaster of a hair for a long time. When she wanted to study biology, it wasn't a decision that was well thought out. She didn’t have a study plan, nor an ambition. Life happened as it happened, she told him. And compared to him who always had an ambition, who had always had a plan, Gaeul’s spontaneous life decisions have turned out to be so much better.

Even that night, he didn’t know what to expect. When he beckoned the waitress to order dessert, Gaeul stepped in and without a second thought, she asked for the bill.

“But I thought we were having dessert?” He asked her after the waitress left, a little annoyed as he'd been looking forward to that part.

“Come on” Gaeul folded the serviette that she picked up from her lap. “Sung Gyu it's friday and we’re in Hongdae. Do you really want to spend the night having an overpriced creme brulee?”

Sung Gyu had spent hundreds of Friday nights in Hongdae so it was nothing new for him. But none had he spent in the company of hislong-time best friend, and none had she spent herself as she’d lived in everywhere else in the world half her life.  She had a point.

When they finally exited the restaurant, rain had ceased. The ambiance was still quite chilly, and a cloud of white smoke emanated every time he breathed. The street was still crowded, despite the pouring weather. He stood on the edge of the sidewalk, lost and unsure of the rest of the night, watching her as Gaeul held a palm out, waiting for it to rain.

“Perfect” She told herself when it didn’t. “It’s time for Ice cream!”

“Ice cream?” He echoed incredulously as she reached for his hand. “But it's night and it's fourteen degrees!”

“That isn’t even cold” Gaeul dismissed him as she dragged him through the crowd. “Jesus, have you been to iceland? They keep ice cream out in the street”

They couldn’t find a good place which sold the kind of ice cream she expected at this time of the day, so they had to settle for measly convenience store treats. He walked after her with a basket in hand as she excitedly surfed the aisles as if she had landed on a different planet.

“Woah, the kind of things they have in this country” She picked up a tray of frozen lunch, widening her eyes in surprise. “Is this whole lunch? In a tray?”

Sung Gyu shook his head. “Have you lived under a rock this whole time?”

Gaeul put back the packed lunch where she found it and slid across the frozen goods, her eyes scanning the content. “Rocks, caves, forests; you name it”

He supposed he couldn’t expect less from an environmentalist. “How about supermarkets? Convenience stores? Department stores?”

Gaeul picked up a raspberry flavored Soju and narrowed her eyes. “Wait, isn’t that the same thing?”

“Wow, that much huh?”

“No” Gaeul shook her head and picked up two different flavors of Soju and held them before him. “I mean these. Aren’t they all the same?”

Sung Gyu was speechless as he stared at her, the one korean woman he had ever known to be completely unaware what Soju was. “You haven’t...you haven’t had Soju before?”

“I know what Soju is” She shrugged.

“But you...haven’t had any” He stated just with the purpose of clarifying it.

To this, Gaeul only shrugged in response. He was in complete disbelief. He knew that she’d been all over the place, staying at one stop for not longer than six months; but how could any adult korean citizen have ever not tried a sip of Soju? That should be a crime.

“You know what? Ice cream” He said, reached out and dumped the two bottles of Soju in her hand and some more into the shopping basket. He then gestured at the fridge where they had all kinds of beer. “Grab a sixer...you’re going to have the first beer bomb of your life”

In the end, they do end up with no ice cream but six cans of beer, three bottles of Soju and a whole lot of unnecessary snacks which she got under his protest. He paid for them all while Gaeul surfed some more between the aisles, loudly expressing her surprise at more things she hadn’t known to exist. And when he was done and informed her that they should leave, she popped her head from behind an aisle and asked him to go ahead.

“But why?” He hissed in return. “I thought we got everything you wanted?”

“I did” She hissed back and impatiently started to send him away. “Just go on, stay outside. I’ll be back soon”

He narrowed his eyes and watched her as she pushed him across the store and he wordlessly complied as he was forcefully exited from the store. The street was still busy and rain seemed to have ceased completely. He hung the bags on his wrist and buried both his hands in his jacket pocket and waited. He didn’t know what she was doing in there, what more had fascinated her to the point she wanted to buy them in secret. But if anything, he was glad he had her; for he wouldn’t have stayed this long out in the crowd, scared that people would recognize him, the idol the world only knew as a complete failure.

It took more than ten minutes for Gaeul to return, and when she did, she did in the most unexpected way. The automatic door parted, and Gaeul walked out with a party cap on her head and a thin candle perched atop a single soft serve ice cream. On top of it all, she was singing happy birthday, as loud as she could.

“Kim Gaeul” Sung Gyu exclaimed, retrieving his hands from his pocket; “What the are you doing?”

He couldn’t help laughing at her. With the neon blue party hat and the ice cream melting in her hand, she was ridiculous and certainly caught all eyes of the passers by.

“Did you think I forgot!?!” She yelled at him when her terrible singing had ended. From behind her, the part timer who was working at the cashier watched the odd exchange.

“I wish you did,” He said in return. “And I’m going to be thirty two, Gaeul, I’m not a child”

“Do I look like I care?”
 

Sung Gyu shrugged.

“Good” She said and held up the ice cream towards him, its small candle flame threatening to disappear in the breeze. “Now make a wish”

“This is so stupid” He told her. “I don’t even have anything to wish for”

“Fine, I’ll do it myself then” Gaeul returned, bringing the candle back to herself.  The candle light brought a gentle shine upon her skin as she closed her eyes, holding the melting ice cream before her. The candle was crooked, about to fall off any minute; she took longer than she should have to make her wish before she blew the candle away.

“Tsh” She started afterwards,  glaring up at him. “What kind of people didn’t have birthday wishes?”

“My kind of people” He buried his hands in his pockets and smiled. 

If anything, Sung Gyu was incredibly grateful. If she was not there, if the circumstances were different, this would have been the first birthday that he’d spend on his own. For some reason, for Sung Gyu, birthdays were really significant. It was the only day he could celebrate himself, that people could celebrate him, send him nice messages, shower him with gifts and love. He desired that acceptance, that validation even at least once a year in his life; and his birthday was the only day that he did. This year, however, given everything that happened, he didn’t have his company people around him, nor his colleagues, nor his fans. He would have been all on his own, snuggled inside a blanket in the dark of his small house, drenched in regret. Gaeul’s sudden arrival was like an unexpected blessing, a rare silver lining. 

As he gazed down at her, he felt as if the air around him had completely changed. He hadn’t met her in person for a long time, but Gaeul had always been there for him, through thick and the thin. She was the constant in his life; never changing no matter how much he failed. For that moment, he wanted to hold her, bury himself in her arms and tell her that she, for him, mattered the most.

“What?” Gaeul asked him, and it took him a second to realise that he’d been quietly staring at her for a long time.

“Nothing” He shrugged, afraid that he’d given himself away. “Just thinking about how stupid you are”

“How ungrateful” Gaeul scowled. “At least I got you this, at least I-,”

Before she could say anything any further, Sung Gyu lifted his hand and grabbed hers before he swiftly slammed the melted ice cream on her face.
 

“Sung Gyu!” She spluttered, drenched with vanilla soft serve and her hair caked to her face. Sung Gyu laughed, satisfied by his immediate response and walked ahead, leaving her behind. 

“!” She yelled after him before she followed suit. He continued to walk briskly before she could catch up with him. “Wait, hold up!”

This is how he was going to show her that her simplest gesture meant so much for him. No warm hugs, no words of gratitude. As they grew up, affection was shared in the most unconventional ways. Despite their younger days when telling each other their raw and most sincere emotions were so simple, Sung Gyu was naturally incapable of showing affection and Gaeul was equally incapable of receiving them. And so, the way their relationship progressed had changed so much since their very first kiss and ring exchange; but it was as perfect as it was. 

In the end, the two of them stopped at an empty alleyway where he helped her to clean up, laughing on his own while she cursed him as she cleaned. Afterwards, he suggested that they should perhaps return home, go to his place and start with the beer bombs. Gaeul didn’t want to, convinced that beer bombs were something that one could put together on the  side of the road. Sung gyu had to remind her that, unlike many other countries that she had been to, they could not drink in public in this place.

“Not fair” She exclaimed,throwing her hand in exasperation. “Why do we have to go to places to drink? I’ve walked on the street with a lager, geez”

“Yeah well…” He sighed. “My place is just around the corner”

“And we’re walking there?”

Sung Gyu buried his hands in his pockets, and the bags ruffled against his jacket. “Yup” He said.

Gaeul paused, looked at Sung Gyu for a long time as the street light flickered above her a dozen of times. Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head, disappointed. “Sung Gyu...you just don't want to stay out, do you? You’re so eager to escape”

Sung gyu, without a word, turned away; embarrassed that he was caught out. He didn't want to stay out because it just made him feel increasingly anxious. It hasn’t been long since he moved into Hongdae, a long way from the studio apartment where he lived while he worked. Although it had been a long time since his public appearance, having lived the idol life, even for a brief time, he was afraid of being identified, and then be reminded of his failure. Hongdae was a big, usually crowded city, so it was easier for him to be lost among the swarms of people, especially in the night. He could be somebody else for a while; just another person returning home, taking an evening stroll, grabbing a meal on the side of the road, stocking up on groceries. He could be an ordinary man for a while, but the ambiguity of how long it could last always scared him. How long did he have until one person from his former fans recognised him? How long did he have until it hit again that he hadn’t just failed himself but also people who probably looked up to him?

“Oh god” Gaeul yelled into the air around them. They were on the edge of the alleyway, and outside, people were passing by briskly, and there was different music playing in different stores; a jumble of songs. She was louder than all of it. She trudged over to him, heavy on her feet.

“How long are you going to keep this up? Stop acting like your life is over” She told him.

He let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t know how he was to prove it to her that it indeed had. “I said I don’t want to talk about it”

“We’re not talking about anything,” She said, exasperated. “I’m just loudly wondering why we can't just stay out for a bit...it’s a great night”

Sung Gyu turned back to her, now standing smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk. “Because it will rain soon? Because it's late? Because you’re a weird korean who hadn’t been here for nineteen ing years?”

“Hold up” She raised a hand in objection. “I don't agree with the last one, it has nothing to do with this”

“It does” He raised his brows. “You don’t know the hell you’re doing. You can get kidnapped”

Gaeul stared at him from across the street for a moment too long, her eyes widened, lips pursed, fighting down a laughter. And then she scoffed. “Ah, you’re ridiculous” She said and traversed the sidewalk towards him.

“Okay, fine, let’s go home” Gaeul finally gave in and walked ahead, leading the way. “But it’s only because of you”

“That’s great but” Sung Gyu started as he caught up with her rather short strides. “You’re going the wrong way”

Gaeul paused and gave him a smile. “Okay” She said and continued to walk the same direction.

“Gaeul” He tried again. “We have to go the other way, turn right and take the subway”

“Is that the short way home?”

“That’s the right way home” He sighed.

“Good” Gaeul nodded and grabbed hold of his jacket sleeve. “Then we’re taking the wrong way home”

“But why?” He whined, reaching the peak of his patience. Sung Gyu was a well organised person by nature, and if things didn’t go according to how he wanted it, hell would break loose. 

Gaeul, on the other hand, was spontaneous, messy and borderline insane. 

“Have you ever heard of getting lost?” She asked him as she walked ahead, dragging him along with her.

“Getting what?” 

“Getting lost” She reiterated, appearing annoyingly satisfied. “We’re going to get lost. We’d find our way home again”

Sung gyu could only scoff in response. She could have done all the getting losts while she was all over the world, but that was not something he had the capacity to compile to.

“That’s the stupidest thing I've ever heard,” He told her. “We won’t find the way back. If anything, we’d spend the whole night walking and accidentally walk into a gang dealing drugs or something and get killed”

“Perfect!”

“Oh for god’s sake, Gaeul”

Gaeul stopped walking, took his hand and squeezed it hard. “Can you stop whining for a second?”

“Huh?” He blinked.

“You really talk too much for an old man” She said and despite his loud protests, Gaeul proceeded to drag him along with her.
 

In all its effervescence, the city at night looked like it was breathing. The bright neon lights and upbeat music pouring out of almost every store, along with young people streaming in and out of their doors. Their smiles, their laughter gave it a childlike innocence, a fresh breath of air, of life. Hongdae, a city of brilliance in the heart of Seoul was like a mecca for musicians and young dreamers. In almost every corner of the serpentine alleys was a busker, a group of dancers, their guitars strung so much that they were so in tune, their drums beaten so hard that on their surfaces were darkened spots; dancers in their glittery dark outfits, torn in places that couldn’t be seen, their arms and limbs in pain behind their shining eyes, smiling lips. Every night, in all its brilliance, Hongdae seemed like it was breathing. Yet, in the darkest corners of the ethereal city were million lost souls, struggling to breath,

Sung gyu, undoubtedly, was one of them. As the two walked deeper and deeper into the city, as the crowd got thicker, music got louder, as lights shined more and more in their eyes, Sung Gyu felt as if he was being suffocated. All around him was just one of them, another one like himself who was building sand castles, dreaming big dreams, battling a losing fight. He wished he could go to either one of them, hold their hands and tell them that it wasn’t worth a fight, they were about to fail anyway; dream a different dream. But then again, he would remember his past self again. He’d remember himself, young and innocent and naive, his slender fingers dancing across the fretboard despite how much his thin layers of skin broke against the strings. He would sing until his voice became hoarse, until he was drenched in sweat and couldn’t breathe again. And then he’d look down at the few people watching him, enjoying the little magic that music could make. They’d be screaming, they’d be crying, they’d be waving their phones or home made light sticks that flickered and fell apart. They’d be happy. And Sung Gyu would gaze at them from the elevated ground, his heart light, savoring the moment where he felt like he was flying, and he’d think; This is life.

The Sung Gyu now did not feel the same anymore. Perhaps, he had developed a kind or a trauma after the incident, for all he wanted to do at that very moment was run away. He could hear the court’s verdict echoing in his mind; when the rights to all his life’s work went to the people who destroyed him, gave no value to his dreams. He did accept it, at times, that it was something that he had no control over; indeed, half the work that went into his albums was from the company’s side. But he did deserve something, a little percentage of the royalties, perhaps, for writing that song, for singing it, for making it a sensation that played in every corner, in every cafe or little boutiques that sold their limited spring collections, for every time people hummed along with their cherry blossom frappes in hand. The song, that one song meant so much to him, so much more than the value that the company could give it. It was the whole meaning and purpose behind that one song that held his hand now, keeping him from breaking apart. 

“Woah, this is how things  are around here?” Gaeul loudly questioned him, definitely enjoying herself in her new surroundings. “The difference in culture is really something, eh?”

She continued to tell him about how she’d seen more portrait artists and violinists and a whole lot of classical musicians reigning the streets as well as smaller squares and streets with open restaurants whereas here things were completely different. Although it was odd to see her fascination towards what would be mundane for Sung Gyu, he understood her. She was only thirteen, barely having experienced all the different aspects that night-life in seoul entailed, when she left. Sung Gyu too, put in his own thoughts, told her about street food and Karaoke bars, enjoying her company all the same. It was having her there with him that could keep him sane. He wouldn’t have otherwise dared to take this stroll down the street with the risk of hearing it or being seen again. For a moment, he wondered how strong that Gaeul could make him be.

At some point, however, they approached a group of people circled around, and he could clearly hear the fine tunes of guitars, drums and strings ensemble, which immediately stopped Gaeul in her tracks. Sung gyu froze, his hands growing clammy as the familiar tune grew within him, ran through his veins like a beckoning. It's spring. He was bound to hear the song that had reigned three springs in the past. If it was any other time he would have secretly applauded himself. The song that became popular without a face but a name. But tonight, everything was a blur. His confidence was waning, his strength started to face away. He did not want to hear it anymore. He wanted to leave.

But Gaeul, as expected, did not share the same sentiment as him. 

“Hold on, wait” She said, grabbing his hand in both of hers, “Isn’t that...isn’t that?” She listened to the intro music closely, the chords that Sung Gyu had played on his guitar so many times. The singer started to sing, and Sung Gyu’s heart constricted inside him. “That’s...that’s your song, Sung Gyu” Gaeul told him, her eyes shining like stars. “That’s your song”

If he was to be completely honest, it was her song; Gaeul’s. The girl who had Autumn’s name, born in Winter and stole his heart nineteen Springs ago. It was her song that was stolen from him and now being sung in a corner of a busy street by a voice of a person they didn’t even know.

“We should leave” He told her, trying to retrieve his hand. If there was someone singing his song, then that also meant there also was the risk of them recognising him. There wasn’t much of him that came out with the song; he didn’t appear in the music video and he only sang on TV shows for a week. The song with a name with no face. But there was a chance, a thin, invisible thread of a chance that they would know. 

“Leave?” Gaeul repeated incredulously. Her eyes were b with passion, the kind of strength a woman would have when she wasn’t about to give up trying. “Sung Gyu” She moved closer to him, so close that her warm breath was brushing his skin. “Listen to me now. I’m here with you after so many years and I haven’t had a single chance of seeing you sing this song”

“So I will” He hissed back. “After we get back. I’ll play you my guitar, I’ll sing it for you”

“Not like that” She returned firmly. “It’s your song, Sunggyu. You wrote it, you sang it, you own it”

“I don't,” He sighed. “Not legally. And you know that”

“I do” She reached up, and as more and more people gathered into the crowd, they became invisible no matter how close they seemed to get. “But that doesn’t change much, does it? You know that too. It’s your song, Sung Gyu; Own it”

“No” Sung Gyu widened his eyes. He knew what she was implying. She didn’t have to say it in many words. “Gaeul no, no, don’t even think about it”

The indie band has now reached its chorus, and Gaeul grabbed his hand, just like it said in the song. 

“Too late” She said. 

And before he could even start protesting again, Gaeul proceeded to drag him through the crowd. They ended up pushing some people, perhaps even smacking them in their face. Yet, ultimately, there they stood right in front of the group, a bunch of young boys with so much passion and stars in their eyes. Sung Gyu looked over at the vocalist; an ordinary young man with dark hair, thin eyes, donning a leather jacket and a pair of scruffed old boots; just like himself.

“Hey, hey hey! Stop! Stop!” Gaeul’s voice echoed over the music, over the chatter of the crowd. It went unheard in the beginning, and Sung Gyu covered his face behind both his hands.

“Gaeul please” He muttered. Frankly, Sung Gyu felt sick. He felt like crying.

“Sush, shut up” She hissed at him and cupped her face with her hands. 

“Stop!”

This time louder, stronger, and as if it was the aftermath of a storm, the band stopped playing, the chatter died down. Every single eye turned to them and quietness ensued.

Sung Gyu couldn’t help but wish for the ground to open underneath his feet and swallow him whole.

“Sung Gyu, come” She said. Grabbed his hand and raised it in the air as would a referee in a boxing match. 

“Kids, kids of the band” She called out. A round of chatter ensued from the back, and as Sung Gyu watched, more and more people started to gather, their phone cameras at a ready. 

“What?” One of the kids yelled back.

“Hey lady” Called another. “You just disrupted our performance!”

“For a very good reason” Gaeul replied, undeterred. Sung Gyu stepped back, wanting to disappear into the crowd, but she pulled him back towards her.

“Do you know who this is?” She asked, now louder that the whole circle of audience could hear.

Sung Gyu breathed heavily, closing his eyes. He’s had nightmares for weeks; of people throwing eggs at him, people protesting outside the building, the media huddling around him, asking why he failed. And this, right now, felt like these nightmares happening for real.

There was silence around him, and he could feel all the eyes scanning him, tracing him like a zoo exhibit. Gaeul’s hand squeezed his gently, and her fingers slipped through his own.

“Wait…” A voice called, all of a sudden, and there was a flicker of recognition in his tone. Sung Gyu dared to slowly open his eyes, only to witness the vocalist, the thin boy in leather and scruffed boots making a step towards him, his guitar hanging on his shoulder, forgotten. “Wait...is that...is that Kim Sung Gyu?”

The entire crowd went quiet, and Sung Gyu, if anything, felt as if he was about to faint. His whole life flashed before his eyes. 

“Oh man” the vocalist whispered, and covered his mouth with his hands. Sung Gyu didn’t think he had a very recognisable face. He was pretty ordinary. Tall, maybe, but with an ordinary face. But someone did, certainly recognise him. He didn’t feel very good.

“Oh god, oh man...it’s really him!”

The vocalist approached him, his hands held out. He paused, turned to his band and cried. “Guys, it is him...”

“From The-the beat?” One of the band mate’s sputtered, and Sung Gyu widened his eyes at him. 

It’s been so many years since The beat disbanded. It was the indie group he started with a bunch of his friends a few weeks after he moved into Seoul. If there was any point where his music career really started, that was that. The beat used to busker in the streets, their guitar cases open to collect a penny to record songs; which they would in this one recording place one of their distant friends owned, and it was their life’s purpose to sneak in a demo album or two to agency representatives who’d be at times roaming in concert venues. That time felt so far away now, almost like a dream. Sung Gyu would have expected someone to recognise him from his idol days; but from ‘The beat?’

“How…” He muttered, taking a step ahead. “How did you…?”

“I’ve been following your work since then...we all have” The vocalist said, gesturing at his band mates. “We were only kids back then, but we always came to watch you play on the street and…”

“Spring’s song…” Another one of his band mate’s put in. “That’s...that’s the kind of music we want to make...one day”

They all went quiet at that point, yet the chatter in the crowd continued. For a moment, Sung Gyu’s fear somehow subdued. He’d met people who connected with his soul, who saw right through him, understood him. They did not see the point where he’d failed. And that gave him a flicker of hope.

“Kim Sung Gyu-Ssi...sir” The vocalist started, and he slowly took the box guitar off from him. Sung Gyu’s heart started to pound so hard, so fast. This was not the reaction he expected when Gaeul made the most outrageous move. But now, beside him, she quietly yet proudly smiled.

“It will be an honor” The boy said, and before him, he held his beat old gibson in his hands. 

As he slowly reached out, his hands trembling, his whole body reacting with an adrenaline rush, all he could hear was her voice in his mind. ‘It’s your song, Sung Gyu. Own it’ 

Perhaps, he never did own it before; when he first recorded it, released it in an album, sang it for the first time on a stage in front of dozens of people who he didn’t even know, Sung Gyu probably never owned Spring’s song. But right here, in front of this small crowd, for people who knew him and probably even loved him, in front of Gaeul, the purpose and the meaning, the biggest strength in his life, Sung Gyu will own it now.

“It’s your song” Gaeul whispered to him again, now so much closer than before. Her lips brushed past his ear, and he suddenly found the purpose of his life.

And he wanted to make it as special as he could.

“Please” He said to the vocalist, stepped closer and put the guitar back on his shoulder. “Play it for me”