Wendy Shon was the sophomore transferee from Canada, with blonde locks, chubby cheeks, and eyes that gives you a sense of importance—that someone listens—like you’re the only person in the room.

When she first came, everyone was aghast. No one had ever transferred in the middle of semester from a school so well-known to a school as mediocre as their college. Everyone supposed that it was either she was getting bullied or something had happened and she decided to come back home. Whatever it was, no one seems to care. Not when they had been blessed by an angel in disguised of a human. And Wendy Shon was not just kind; she was beautiful, smart and everything great. She was lovely.

Bae Joohyun, on the other hand, was a junior whose name doesn’t seem to be recognized—unknown—like she doesn’t even exist, except for the fact that she’s there, sitting on the farthest corner of the arts room, putting colors to life. The dark corner immediately becoming a paradise of colors—of life—and no one notices.

It was the start of Joohyun’s final year, and Wendy’s third studying composition when Joohyun’s corner of paradise finally found life. It was when Wendy’s mess of words, finally formed a sentence, a poetry about life, about colors—about the raven-haired girl sitting quietly on the corner of room A-12, eyes not a void of black but a wonderful mess of colors that makes much more sense than any of the words that Wendy had ever known, a smile that may not be a bright as the sun, but is enough to light up the dark skies; makes you want to look and feel a sense of safety, like a moon that’s always there when the sun had decided to rest.

It was on Joohyun’s final day of college when they had a glimpse of each other. When the starry-eyed Wendy played the beats of her heart, of Joohyun’s abstract words that will be painted on the blank canvas on her corner, and where Wendy’s mess of words had become a song that will heard by her muse, and will be remembered till they meet again.

“From the girl who noticed, and for the person yet to notice,” Wendy whispered, “Thank you for coloring my world.” And Joohyun leaves, Wendy’s words lost in the air. Soon… They’ll found themselves to you.

It was Joohyun’s first showcase for her paint gallery. Finally, after spending so many hours planning for the exhibit instead of sitting on her room, a cup of tea running cold on a stool she placed next to hers as she paints any thoughts and into a mesh of colors that one can define as “disastrous” or something meaningful no matter how different their definition “meaningful” from hers.

‘No one gets them anyway,’ but Seulgi argues that that’s the beauty of it. A plethora of thought just from a single canvas splashed with colors. It may not explain in clear details the thought she had in mind, but it was fine, so long as the colors are there and she expresses herself in way too vague for others but so clear for herself.

She finishes packing her stuff, switching from a white silken polo to a huge hooded sweater that makes her look smaller but away from unwanted attention.

RIIIINGGGG RIIIIINGGGG

She answers the phone, ready for the assault of noises that came from other side. “JOOHYUN!!!!” the voice was muffled, but loud. Joohyun swore her ears would explode one of these days. A minute or two and the myriad of voices had finally hushed down, she sighs and answers, “Hello…”

“Joohyunie~! I’m so sorry for that! Sooyoung and Yerim fought over the phone!” Her friend, Seulgi said in a panicked voice. Knowing all too well how the raven hated noises. The image of the monolid-eyed girl pouting threw all of Joohyun’s rant and replaced with a small sigh.

“’s okay, Seulbear. Not your fault.”

After much coaxing and reassurance that it was okay and a promise of accompanying her fellow artist for a joint project as soon as daybreak was only when they went on the topic at hand, “A celebration at the local bar!” as the two satanic duo accompanying her bear of a friend had exclaimed.

Joohyun hated alcohol, much more the thought of swimming through a sea of drunkards and—god forbid—one of them noticing her and blatantly start flirting with her, cause boy, she hates those.

Much to her