As part of the newly opened museum owned by the Kwons, Jiyong and Dara transformed one of the halls to an exhibition named “His poems for her”, putting all their efforts to justify its greatness.

“Good morning sir!” Dara greeted the man on the other line while on loudspeaker.

“Noona! Where’s hyung?” The old man replied back excitedly. The couple chuckled at his response, they forgot the old man was their little brother. And the way his voice got higher, no one else does that to them unless he’s Lee Seungri.

“I’m here sir. We have a favor to ask. We’ve read all Jiyong’s poems to Dara, they were all…”

“Heartfelt and beautiful” The old man cut him.

“Yes sir. Definitely.” The couple replied in unison.

“We wanted to get your permission if we can hold an exhibit about it. For the people to see how great one’s love is.” The old man laughed at their request, his favorite couple asking him for something he wasn’t even part of, other than keeping it.

“Jiyong, Dara. The present lives of my hyung and noona. Those are yours. They’re not mine. You’re the one who made those along with your love. It’s your choice on what to do with it.”

“Really? Thank you so much!” The couple hugged in glee. “Last favor sir, you’re a big part of our lives even now. Will you please come on the opening of exhibition? We promise not to reveal your identity.” Dara pleaded. But her husband signaled her, reminding that they’ve already said it to Seungri.

“I’m sorry sir. About the last part. We’ve already said it to our bestfriend but don’t worry we can trust him.” Jiyong tried to cover.

“Your bestfriend? The one who has the same name as me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s okay. If we share the same name, I’m sure he can be trusted.”

A day before it opens to the public, Jiyong and Dara visited the exhibition, making sure everything was perfect. The poems were printed in large fonts, framed, and were hanging on the white wall. It was only the two of them inside, a certain melody playing along the walls of the room, a melody which they have repeatedly listened in the past few days. It was another memory.

“Dara, we have a package from Mr. Kang.” Jiyong shouted, opening the small box. Inside was a CD and a letter.

“Jiyong, Dara, how are you? Ever since you came here, grandpa became stronger and happier. He wouldn’t miss a day, telling us about the both of you. Recently, he keeps on asking me to record him while he plays. But I don’t know how so I just ask my children to do it, I hope it turned out okay. Grandpa said he tried his best to relive it once again. You saw him playing the guitar when you went here but for the first time after so many years, he played again our piano. The melody in the CD, he said it was yours. Your memories. You both composed them when you were still in highschool. It doesn’t make sense to me but I know to you, it’s very important. We hope you can visit us again.” The letter said. Jiyong put it on his laptop, and soon, a soft melody was already resonating in their home.

“They sure left many memories behind.” Dara snuggled closer to her husband, enjoying his warmth along with the music.

They stopped on a certain poem, and stared at it. “This is my favorite.” Jiyong said as he went behind Dara, hugging her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Me too.”

“Undying love.” Jiyong whispered to which Dara nodded with a smile.

Jiyong turned Dara around to face him, still keeping his hug. Then, he started swaying their bodies. They were dancing. Around them were there memories, not only by their past lives but also their present. The poems, the music, and the hall, the exact hall where he proposed to her.

On the day of the exhibition, many prominent names came following the influence of the Kwons. Also present were the families and friends of Jiyong and Dara.

The couple watched the guests as they stopped by each frame, and took their time reading and marveling it. “Look at them. They have the same reaction as we have.” Dara smiled at her husband.

“Jiyong, Dara!” Jiyong’s parents and grandfather approached them.

“These are perfect. I can feel him in every word, the intensity of his love.” Jiyong’s grandfather admired the works, his eyes still glued at those frames though he himself was a known poet.

“Who’s the author of these? I would love to meet him.” His mother asked. Jiyong and Dara were startled. “Uhmmm, let’s just say these are works of someone who’s really dear to me and Dara, and I’m afraid his identity should remain private.” Jiyong replied politely.

“I’ve heard that already, son. You've  said those lines before, and it turned out you’re Nabi.” His father looked at him knowingly, his mother chuckling. “We know the drill. We’ll just condition our minds that we didn’t know who made all these though we know they’re clearly yours, Ji.” The couple looked at them wide eyed, shocked on what they’ve heard.

“Mr. Kwon Hyunbae.” Two men in their suits and eyeglasses approached the small circle, getting the attention of the family.

“Hi Mr. Shin and Mr. Kim!” Jiyong’s grandfather shook their hands.

“Do I need to introduce?” His grandfather asked his family.

“No grandpa, we know them.” Jiyong smiled at the guests, his parents and wife followed as well with the usual greetings. Mr. Shin was a known curator of poems and novels in Korea while Mr. Kim is a painter but more popular as a great critic of different art forms.

“Thank you for inviting us. These works are exceptional, they are treasures. I will come back with my wife, she will surely love these” Mr. Shin praised.

“I’ve never seen such kind of love being written on a poem. Each word, they linger not in my head, but in my heart.” Mr. Kim commented this time.

Throughout the day, Jiyong and Dara kept on receiving compliments about the exhibition. They knew they did the right decision.

JIYONG’s POV

“I love the music. It suits the theme.” Hanbin commented, tapping my back.

“Agree, I like the fact that it only has melody. Those poems, they became the lyrics.” Seunghyun seconded.

It was actually our plan to play a melody on the exhibition even before the package arrived. It was Dara’s idea, she wanted to make each poem a song of its own. But the problem was we can’t find the right music piece. After work hours, we always spent our time in the studio, trying to create the perfect melody but we always end up failing. So when we listened to the CD, Mr. Kang Daesung gave, it was the answer to our prayers. It’s the perfect one.

“Hyung, noona, where’s the diary?” Seungri whispered. Dara and I have talked about it, and we decided not to put it here. We both agreed that it should be for us only especially that we, the present Jiyong and Dara, have shared the same memories.

“Her memories of him. Let’s keep that our secret.” Dara whispered back, earning a nod from Seungri. He, then excused himself after receiving a call.

“Babe, Mr. Kwon Seungri is here.” I called Dara’s attention when I saw the familiar old man on the entrance just as our bestfriend passed by him.

“Good day sir!” Dara and I hugged him.

“Aigooo, my hyung and noona.” He caressed both our cheeks.

“This is “His poems for her”. My poems for Dara.” I explained, holding my wife’s hands. We tour him around the hall, stopping and admiring each works. Then, I remembered something I’m very curious about. “Sir, where’s the song?” I turned to him, eagerly waiting for an answer.

“What song?”

“Butterfly. The one he wrote for my great grandma. We saw it in her diary.”

“I’m sure I kept all hyung’s works, and I haven’t seen one with that title.”

When she got inside, she immediately saw Seungri and sat beside him, “You’re writing a poem again?”  She stared at the papers scattered on the table, picking one to read. Same as his parents, Seungri just looked at his noona, surprised. He thought his hyung’s death will be unbearable for her to accept, but why would she be there like she used to do? “Did you know Jiyong wrote me a song. It was a beautiful one. I always ask him to sing it for me. It’s my lullaby.” Dara animatedly told them as she stares on her hand, fidgeting her fingers.

The old man suddenly reacted as if he remembered something. “Oh, that song. How could I forget, noona’s face was full of longingness and pain while she’s telling that to me, like she was craving to hear hyung sing it again for her.” He sadly replied.

“Why is she in pain?” I asked confusedly. I thought it’s his song for her. Her lullaby. The diary said it.

“I just knew about the song when noona unconsciously blurted it out after hyung died.” He explained. “Now I know the title. Butterfly. It suits noona.” He gave out a small smile while staring at Dara.

“Have you seen it?” I asked again.