The world's most annoying marimba ringtone resounded through the apartment. Seungwan knew who was calling immediately: management. Somewhat despairing, and very reluctant, Seungwan let the horrible ringtone loop three times before she picked up.

"Seungwan," Manager Kim's deep voice filtered through the speakers.

"Yes?" Seungwan answered with a lilt, appearing to be innocent to the intentions of the call.

"Don't use that voice with me, Seungwan. We've worked together for too long for you to fool me at this point."

The jig was up. She sighed, "I know, I know... you need another song. I've listened to all of the voicemails you've left."

"After the success you received with your last album, the fans are starting to get more anxious as to what you'll produce next. That, and the company does need to see you rake in more revenue. You know that I truly appreciate your talent amongst all of our artists, but we are a business at the end of the day."

Seungwan thinks to all of the late nights she's spent with melodies swimming in her head, but no way to resolve them, and no lyrics materializing to accompany them. "Yes, yes, I understand. I've just been lacking inspiration these days."

"Suffering from a break up?"

Caught off guard, Seungwan nearly spits into her phone's microphone, "Manager Kim! Why would you say that?"

"Just thought that if all you write is love songs, you might've lost your muse," He chuckles. "Jokes aside, we need some sort of demo or lyrics by next week. Luckily, you might find a new partner by then, or at least go on a date."

Seungwan grabs the nearest piece of paper and starts crumpling it next to the receiver, "Oh? What's that?" The awkward sounds of rustling continue, "I think you're breaking up Manager Kim! I really need to pay my phone bill soon!"

Only laughs are heard in response. "Just get it done, Seungwan. I look forward to hearing what you come up with." The line goes dead.

Seungwan's phone hangs in the air next to her ear, stunned to silence, her head churning with ideas for new excuses. Maybe she had a dental appointment where the dentist accidentally dropped a drill down and she has been recovering in the hospital for the whole week. No, then that would mean she couldn't sing again. Perhaps she was walking down the street with her guitar when a biker ran into her, leading her to smash the instrument into the sidewalk. Hmm, not that either, the company would've just replaced the guitar and forced her to start writing again. Seungwan's eyes light up. She has a rare disease and the doctor told her that only has seven days left to live! Who would waste their time writing songs when they're going to die? Seungwan wouldn't. 

Irene leans on the edge of the hallway, watching as Seungwan paces back and forth in a frenzy, as if devising the plans for the next atomic bomb. "I can see your desire to avoid writing this song grow greater by the minute, Seungwan."

Snapped out of her brainstorm of horrible excuses, she turns to look at the genie, the edges of her lips raising in realization. "Think a wish will do the trick?"

"What kind of wish?"

"Maybe I could wish for a hit song to magically appear." Seungwan looks ecstatic at this brilliant idea she has just conjured.

Irene feels guilty for bursting Seungwan's bubble. "Sorry to kill the mood, but there's a bit of a technicality. Remember how I said that you could only wish for material things with a cap of a thousand dollars in monetary value? A song, technically, is included in the category of material things. Unless you want a hit song that is only worth a thousand dollars in revenue, then unfortunately, I can't provide it." Irene's usually stoic expression is replaced by a genuine smile. "Besides, I think you are perfectly capable of conjuring music on your own. You've done it all these years without the need of magic."

Seungwan tries to think of any other number of wishes that would allow her to avoid her dreaded writer's block, but fails to come up with any idea that doesn't gravely injure a producer or manager or seriously undermine her artistic integrity. It looks like she'll have to write this song after all, yet she still needs a new source of inspiration. She remembers the conversation she had with her manager. "Go on a date..." She half whispers, audibly thinking to herself.

"Oh, you have a date?"

"No, no. No one's asked me, and I have no idea who would even want to... Wait." Seungwan's eyes grow mischievous. She says with a degree of finality, "I wish for you to go on a date with me."

Irene sputters, "You wish for what now?"

Seungwan states again, with a little less confidence and a little more embarrassment, "I wish for you to go on a date with me."

"Do I get to ask why?"

"In short, I really need inspiration for my next song."

"And, let me get this straight, you need to go on a date, and even more specifically, with me?" Irene probes, incredulous.

Looking down at her twiddling thumbs to mask the growing anxiety from showing on her face, Seungwan answers, "Well, yes. I don't really have anyone else to ask. It was just a suggestion from my manager, and I'm out of all other ideas."

"If you're certain, your wish is my command."

"No snapping this time?"

"It doesn't take magic for me to go on a date with you," Irene starts walking back to her room, responding without turning back to look at Seungwan. "Now go get ready before I change my mind."

Left bewildered, and pleasantly surprised at the ease of Irene's agreement, the weight of her actions suddenly presses down upon Seungwan's shoulders. She hasn't dated anyone for months. Now, not only does she have to remember how to be a functioning human being, but a functioning, romantic human being. Added to her list of complications is that she also has to plan a whole date within the span of the next thirty minutes. She really screwed herself over with this one. Better this than get fired, she supposes.

Serving as a convenient distraction, Seungwan's phone buzzes. 

"Seulbear~ 

There's a really cool fair that just opened downtown! Want to go some time this week? I heard they had a whole Ferris wheel, and not one of those dinky ones like, it's huge!!!"

Kang Seulgi, beacon in the darkest of times, savior of Seungwan's career, you are a genius! Slightly ashamed at having to blow off her best friend, Seungwan texted back a reply, "Sorry Seul, I have a date!" Thousands of questions start flooding her inbox, all of which Seungwan doesn't feel like answering right now. She had no idea how to get around to explaining that she has a new roommate, who happens to be a genie, and also happens to be going on a date with her. Seulgi's mind would simply explode, and Seungwan did not particularly feel in the mood to be washing brain bits out of Seulgi's new carpet. Finally, with a destination in mind, despite the idea being stolen from her now poor, neglected Seulbear, Seungwan has the new mission of choosing something to wear. Sure, it was a spontaneous and certainly not serious date, but she would be damned (by the threat of Irene's displeasure) if she did not at least put in the good ol' reliable Seungwan patented effort.

Walking towards her car, Irene in tow, Seungwan's hands start getting clammy. Just now, looking at Irene in that loose button up and jeans, she never thought that anyone could make casual look so good. She must've spent far too much time bickering with her rather than marveling at the genie's beauty, and all of those missed opportunities to stare were catching up to Seungwan. Though Seungwan thought she cleaned up well, even making sure to grab the nice leather jacket that had been wasting away in her closet, she still had an inkling feeling that Irene was out of her league. (She would've had been deluded to believe that a genie with two centuries more of experience would have ever been in her league to begin with.)

Irene was of a different opinion. She was fully aware of her effect on others, but still found that the way Seungwan shifted her gaze uncomfortably to avoid openly gaping at her, a dust of pink decorating her ears, was, for lack of a better or more fitting term, cute. 

"What?" Seungwan asked, tone full of surprise.

Damn. Clearly, two centuries worth of experience meant absolutely nothing if she can't even avoid subconsciously expressing her thoughts out loud. Stupid thoughts. She felt as big a fool as Seungwan right now. Looking to brush it off, Irene simply walks marginally faster, countering with her own question, "How do you think I look?"

"Amazing, wonderful, I --" Seungwan has to stop herself from looking like a rambling, dumbstruck idiot, "You look good."

"Hopefully not too good," Irene laughed, amused at Seungwan's response.

Feeling more playful, and emboldened by Irene's previous gaffe, Seungwan smiles, "So good." 

As they approach her white sedan, now only about ten feet away, Seungwan quickens her pace to reach the passenger door before Irene, unlocking the car with a beep of her car keys before swiftly pulling open the door for her date. What a gentleman. Irene, not wanting to seem too pleasantly surprised, simply ducked her head into the vehicle. Walking around to the driver's side and sliding into her own seat, Seungwan started the car, placing her arm behind Irene's car seat as she reversed out of the parking space. This calm, collected, and suave vision of Seungwan was truly unexpected for Irene. In her daze at this display, Irene utters, "You're surprisingly cool."

It was as if her whole facade crumbled in an instant. Retracting her hand, and directing her gaze to the road, Seungwan gave a shy nod in acknowledgement of the compliment. This constant shift between cool and cute would keep Irene on her toes for the rest of the evening.

Mind now focused on their date, Irene asks, curious, "Where are we going?"

"It wouldn't be fun if it wasn't a surprise," Seungwan appears to ease, "I know you can read my desires, but you can't read my mind!"

"Your desires are just as revealing. I can tell from your growing desire for funnel cake that we're most likely going to a fair."

"Wow, thank you Sherlock. Your deductive genius has ruined the surprise," Seungwan pouts.

"It was elementary, my dear Watson."

"Good to know that with all your age, you're still susceptible to a pop culture reference. Speaking of pop, do you have any favorites for me to put on the radio while we drive? It shouldn't be much longer, just about twenty more minutes if I were to guess."

Irene takes a second to think, mentally combing through the hits of her favorite eras, which happen to cover a range of much longer time than the typical human life span. She doesn't often want to be reminded of her age, but it seemed to be as integral to her as breathing. "I think you'll find that decades in a vase leaves my tastes relatively ancient compared to yours."

"Oh, try me! I enjoy a good retro tune," Seungwan manages to say before she cringes at the dad lingo she just used. 

"Know anything by Sinatra?"

"Know one of the best singers of his generation? Of course I do!" She gasps, using her hand to clutch her chest in a dramatic show of shock, "I'm wounded! You truly insult my knowledge of the industry." She hands her phone to Irene, which is connected to the car via the aux cord. "Why don't you go to my music library and put on one of your favorites. Password is 021094."

Typing in the code, Irene not only realizes that Seungwan must be incredibly lax with her digital security, but also the significance of her password. "Is this Seulgi's birthday?"

Seungwan seems to get a little embarrassed, just nodding in affirmation as she keeps her eyes on the road. 

Irene tries to mollify her, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, you know. Your friendship is very endearing." She looks down, smiling at the homescreen of Seulgi and Seungwan, the same poses and matching patches of cream on their face as in the framed photo on Seungwan's hallway cabinet. The genie, though largely unfamiliar with the latest technology, finds herself adapting to the software well enough, navigating to the music app and playing "Spring is Here".

Hearing the soft orchestra introduction, and Sinatra's classic croon, Seungwan sighs contentedly. "Way to fit the season, Irene. But kind of sad, don't you think? Doesn't quite fit the mood of the date we're about to go on..." Seungwan laughs airily, finishing her statement sarcastically, "...unless you already have sad prospects for this evening."

The genie doesn't respond, instead losing herself in the rich, beautiful tone of the singer and how it melds with Seungwan's own voice, who so casually outshines his magic with her own. 

"Spring is here! Why doesn't my heart go dancing?
Spring is here! Why isn't the waltz entrancing?
No desire, no ambition leads me
Maybe it's because nobody needs me?"

Seungwan completely shifts the atmosphere with her solemn melody, seeming to absorb the emotions that Sinatra presents and incorporating them into a dazzling, yet intimate performance. Each note shined like the reflections of streetlights off of raindrops, hanging in the air before gliding down with the gentleness of feathers, despite carrying the oozing weight of cloudy tears. Irene has heard thousands of singers across the generations, but couldn't think of a more perfect voice. She imagines listening to it for the rest of her long lifetime. But the show feels as though it's over before it has even begun, Seungwan's voice subsiding along with the end of the short verse. Seungwan softens, a corner of lifting up almost imperceptibly. "Sorry about that, got a bit too into it."

"Don't ever apologize for giving me something so beautiful." Irene catches herself, and recognizing the seeming suddenness of her words, attempts to swat away the tension that drapes like fog across the two front seats. "I think Sinatra did better though," She teases.

Seungwan breaks into a grin, "Can't compete with the greats!" Irene thinks she can.

In stark contrast to the fiery repartees of their first few days together, they spend the rest of the car ride in near silence, save for the light jazz and soaring vocals of Sinatra resounding through the sedan's speaker system. 

Pulling in to the large parking lot in front of the fair, the glittering lights of the rides and stands growing ever nearer, Seungwan takes a second to take it all in.

Putting her car in park, she hastily gets out of the vehicle to beat Irene to opening the door, offering her hand to help her out of her seat. When Irene's small, dainty hand meets hers, Seungwan simply notices how soft it is. She must've squeezed a little too hard, as Irene winces. “Sorry,” Seungwan says bashfully. Wanting to clear the awkward air, she directs their attention to something new. She pulls the tickets out of her jacket pocket, waving them in the direction of the entrance. “Let's head in then, I made sure the print the tickets before we left!”

With no hint of sarcasm in her voice for once, Irene comments, ”A gentleman, a singer, and someone who comes prepared. What an ideal date.” 

”Only the best for you.”

Irene retorts, earning back some of her typical bite, “Add greasy to the list then.” She pretended not to enjoy Seungwan's remark, but the glimmer of joy in her eyes indicated otherwise.

After having the staff check their tickets and give them wristbands, they stepped into the fair. Immediately, the scent of fair food ambushed them, everything from the smokey scent of roasted turkey legs to the sugary churros and tart lemonade wafted around the stalls. 

“Hungry?” Seungwan asked.

”Starving.”

“Sit tight then,” Seungwan guides them over to the nearest picnic table, isolated on the grass in a less crowded seating area away from the bustle near the food stands. “I'll go grab something for us.”

”And have you guess my preferences? I've eaten cuisine from all regions, it'll be a hard task to find something that'll impress me.” Irene responds, joking with a mock air of snobbery. 

Playing along, Seungwan bows in fake reverence to the princess seated before her. “I, your humble servant, will be sure to grant your wish, your highness.” And here Irene thought she was the genie. Only as she watches Seungwan's silhouette disappear into the crowd of people does she understand the spontaneity of the situation she is in, and the rashness under which she agreed to it. The squeals of children chasing each other around a nearby table, the vision of the setting sun casting the fair in a golden glow, and the rustle of grass underfoot as groups of gangly teens shuffled from attraction to attraction all presented opportunities for Irene to be distracted from her thoughts, yet they only centered on Seungwan. While yes, she was technically granting Seungwan's wish, she never executed the magic that would've formally binded her to this decision. Irene was acting of her own free will, and her will happened to bring her on this particular date, to these particular fairgrounds, and with one particular Seungwan. She was just a tad bit confused at this turn of events, knowing that she would not have done the same for her previous masters, many of whom were never interested in understanding Irene on a personal level. Knowing that Seungwan had invited her out for the sake of musical inspiration did clarify things slightly, but Irene still felt that there might have been more to it. If not anything, surely they were getting closer now. Did Irene want that? Seeing Seungwan approaching, with two corn-on-the-cobs in hand, balancing lemonades, napkins, and other various items in the crooks of her elbows, Irene's growing smile answered the question with a firm yes.

The longer she watched Seungwan struggle, however (although she did take a minute to marvel at how adorable she was), Irene broke out of her train of thought. She practically leaped from her seat, rushing over to lighten Seungwan's burden and set the drinks on their table. Seungwan tried to mutter her thanks, but it was lost in the consequent fluster of her nearly dropping one of the churros onto the grass. After sitting down and finally recovering from her series of flounders, Seungwan looked at Irene, or was it the food, in delight. “You're being awfully cooperative today.”

Irene attempts to brush off the compliment. ”You're in dire straits, it's the least I could do.”

”If being in dire straits leads to a date with you, I should put myself in dire straits more often.”

The genie is taken aback, still unused to this new side of Seungwan. She smacks the side of the shorter's shoulder in her surprise. 

Seungwan flinches, "Hey! What was that for?"

Irene finds herself looking in some random direction, hoping to hide the growing red on her cheeks. She counters, playfully, "I bet you're this charming with everyone. I won't fall for your tricks, Seungwan."

Seungwan chuckles, "Didn't expect you to." She looks downcast as she continues, "They didn't really work on anyone in the past. I mean, I don't have very much experience with love or dating anyone. Seulgi did try to set me up on a couple of blind dates before, but they didn't really pan out. I think I must've scared away all of them with my bad jokes." She scratches the back of her neck to dispel some of the anxiety of this sudden openness. "I don't know why I would be using the same jokes now." Laughing again to displace the discomfort, Seungwan goes on, "It's kind of annoying, isn't it?"

Witnessing Seungwan's insecurity, and wanting nothing more than to dispel all of her worries, Irene's usually stony exterior thaws. Reaching across the table and taking Seungwan's hands within her own, she squeezes them lightly in reassurance. "It's not annoying at all. It's cute." Irene retracts her hands, clearing and averting her eyes from Seungwan's which appear to be growing more appreciative by the minute. If she stared into them any longer, she just might start developing an attachment (as if she didn't already have one). "If I thought you were annoying, I would be much colder than I am now, but here we are. I feel like you don't know this, but the more time I spend with you, it seems that my barriers slowly disappear. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that there was something magical about you."

Seungwan doesn't respond, yet her slow nod and growing smile do all of the talking for her. Choosing instead to show off the goods she's brought back, she looks at the food on the table. "Oh, we better get eating before it gets cold."

"I thought you said that you would be able to find something truly astounding. What's so astounding about corn-on-the-cob?"

"Do not let appearances deceive you, Irene," Seungwan holds one up, brandishing it like a sword in Irene's direction. She gives it a little spin, adding all of the flourish of a showman. If you could apply the behavior of a circus tent to a display of food, Seungwan would be a ringmaster right now. "Rich butter: evenly coated to give the finest glaze. Pepper, salt, chili flakes, and some green stuff I cannot recognize: the perfect ratio of seasoning. Feast your eyes on this decadent delight and forget all other corn-on-the-cobs of decades past."

"When did you become a food critic?"

"The second I saw this beauty, I became capable of anything." Seungwan took a bite, eyes widening in satisfaction. "It tastes amazing, I swear. Here," Seungwan offers the other cob to Irene. "Try it!"

Sinking her teeth into the rows of kernels, Irene seemed to understand Seungwan's high praises. Though not the most visually appealing, and superficially conventional and indistinct, the swirl of flavors coated the inside of , dancing and gliding like synchronized swimmers at the Olympics. This is what it means to have a beautiful interior, to carry a wealth of hidden worth that the exterior could not hope to match. Interesting sentiments toward corn, Irene thought. She hoped that the unidentifiable green stuff did not contain any poison, but it tasted more like chives to her. She was getting lost in this new discovery, absentmindedly saying, "It tastes like you."

Seungwan bursts out laughing, putting her head in her arms on the table to try and stifle her outburst. Looking up at Irene, still unable to stop laughing, she says, "You really don't know what you just said, do you? At least take me out to dinner first!" She takes a sip of her lemonade, "Well, I guess we're doing that right now." Irene was bewildered, but didn't feel like questioning it lest she walk into another trap. Seungwan's infectious laugh was enough of a distraction as is.

Throwing the remains of the decimated cob into a nearby bin, Seungwan wiped her hands with a napkin, taking a drink with one and offering the other to Irene. "Let's walk! There's still so much to do."

"Don't you think holding hands would be too romantic for us?"

"We are on a date..." Seungwan drawls out. "Might as well act like it! If it's with you, I don't think I mind."

Not one to argue with that airtight logic, Irene accepts Seungwan's hand, who starts leading her toward the direction of flashing lights and resounding dings. It might have just been the atmosphere, the dizzying scent of funnel cakes and Seungwan's citrus shampoo, the feeling of Seungwan's hands interlocked with her own, but Irene thought that her heart just fluttered at the contact.

"I saw a bunch of fair games that way, maybe I could win you something!"

More excited at the prospect of a prize than she would've typically been, but fully aware of the money-consuming state of fairs, Irene playfully replies, "Everyone knows those things are rigged."

Seungwan turns back, smiling, "Doesn't hurt to try."

They find a wall of balloons, prizes of large teddy bears, monkeys, and elephants hanging above it. Seungwan's eyes light up when she sees a pink rabbit plush, its nose looking oh so scrunchable, with floppy ears almost seeming to beckon at her to come claim it. She's getting that bunny. Sliding two dollars across the counter to the teen who looks like this isn't his ideal way to spend the beginning of spring, she receives three darts in return. The attendant gestures to the piece of blue tape on the floor, "Stand at the line please, ma'am."

Backing up, Seungwan readies her arm, elbows in, aim straight. She leans in and releases the dart in a perfect parabolic arc... but she misses completely. Damn. Two more tries. Adjusting her aim and her velocity, trying to reach that optimal 45 degree angle, Seungwans throws another, and misses again. "Third times the charm," Irene chimes in, trying to give some encouragement. This time, Seungwan approaches Irene, dart in hand. "Blow on it, for luck." Irene thinks this is stupid, and that the tip of the dart is too blunt to even pop a balloon were Seungwan's aim to be more exact, but she leans down and blows anyway. Seungwan's eyes light up with a competitive fury. She can do this. Leaning her arm back, eyes narrowing on her target, she throws the final dart at the perfect angle, perfect velocity, and lets nature do its work. Nature decided to let her lose. 

Seungwan put her chin on Irene's shoulder, slumping in her dismay. "Aw, don't pout Seungwan, let me try." Irene grabs another three darts. With what seems to be a lot less deliberation and a lot more ease than Seungwan could muster, she watched three balloons vanish in an instant. The attendant stood surprised, stuttering, "I, uh, I guess we have a grand prize winner!" He points at the large stuffed animals overhead. "Take your pick." Wordlessly, Irene gestures at the chipmunk with an adorable red nose, almost as big as the upper half of Seungwan's body. The teen struggles to take it down, heaving it over and placing it on the counter. Irene readily receives it, but forks it over to Seungwan who carries it stunned. "You, you didn't have to." Seungwan says, obviously very excited, but also shy. "How did you do that, if you don't mind me asking? It wasn't magic, was it?"

"No, no, I can't use magic unless it's to grant one of your wishes. When not serving you, I'm just a regular human. However, as to where I gained these impeccable dart skills, one of my previous masters often frequented taverns. In order to stop the advances of the unruly men you see in those bars, I would challenge them to a game of darts. I never lost." Seungwan appeared to look at Irene in a new light. Though she jokes about how ancient the genie is, she often forgets the long history that she has behind her age. She must've seen many things. Having stared for too long, Irene interrupts Seungwan's trance, walking away from the balloon booth, "Are you following or not?" 

Seungwan starts in Irene's direction, continuing the conversation, "Why'd you choose the chipmunk? There was this really cute bunny I had my eyes on."

Irene just chuckles, "Aren't you too old for stuffed animals? Well, I'm not one to talk, I find them adorable too -- the chipmunk especially." She pats Seungwan's cheek, "He's got your puffy cheeks and little red nose. You're a chipmunk holding a chipmunk." Seungwan goes red. "Anyway, do you have a name in mind? Don't let it be something lame or I'll take it straight back and return it."

"I think I'll name him Manen." 

"Cute."

Irene sits down in front of the water gun, poised to win the giant teddy bear that she could see from thirty feet away. She had already won a turtle plush, and a chicken stuffed animal, both of which were nestling in Seungwan's arms. She felt like she needed to complete the collection. There were several others competing against her, a middle-aged dad who looked like he was just dragged to this stand, a group of obnoxious teens who were not ashamed of their clear intentions to sabotage their friends once the race started, and a small kid, hands gripping the sides of the water gun in anticipation. Irene cannot pinpoint the desires of others as clearly as she can for her master, but the sheer excitement and will that is emanating off of this child makes her reevaluate her own ambitions for winning the grand prize. If Seungwan notices how Irene changes the position of her water gun, just a centimeter more to the left, she doesn't comment on it.

With the resounding ding of the bell, the race is on. Seungwan watches as the balloons ascend, the small kid in the lead and Irene close behind. The youths are all busy hitting each other to aim properly, and the dad is just on his phone while his gun shoots water haphazardly. Almost at the top, the small kid flounders, accidentally knocking his gun off of the target. As he scrambles to reset it, Irene knocks her own gun in a random direction. With the alarm sounding, there is one final winner. As if it were Christmas in March, the kid joyously receives the prize, hugging it for dear life. With the subtlest raise of her lips, Irene rejoins Seungwan, who just grins back at her. "What happened to all of the dart skills?"

Irene only half lies, "Let's just say you distracted me."

The rest of the evening proceeds in a similar fashion, with Seungwan and Irene trying out almost all of the carnival games and attractions. The tilt-a-whirl had left Seungwan's stomach in knots, and Irene almost lost herself in the fun house mirror maze, but there were no other complications. With the sun setting, and the world entering that blue hour after dusk, their day was coming to an end. But there was one last ride they had to go on.

"The Ferris wheel!" Irene excitedly points to the rotating contraption in the distance with as much excitement as a kid who's tasted cotton candy for the first time. "We have to go Seungwan!"

"Wow, you sure seem ecstatic. We only have just enough tickets left for one ride. Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure! Ferris wheels are the third most important human invention, after the telephone and refrigerator. I was there, you know, to see the very first one. The World's Fair in Chicago is a memory I'll never forget. My master's wish was to ride it, and I was lucky that he let me come with," Irene sighs, relishing in nostalgia.

By the time that Irene returned to reality from her daydream, they were already at the foot of the wheel. It was one of the more modern ones, tall, white, and with large cabins. Seungwan had no idea how they were able to construct it within the week that it took the fair to set up, but she did not feel like questioning it. Handing their tickets to the operator, they entered the cabin, sitting down opposite each other. As they're ascending, they both reflect on the day's events. Irene, interested, asks a question. "Do you have enough material to write your new song?"

Seungwan realizes that she hasn't been taking notes, far too swept up in enjoying her time with Irene. She almost reaches into her jacket pocket to grab her small notebook and start jotting notes down during this ride, but stops herself. She'd rather just spend the rest of the day fully invested in Irene's company. "Yeah, I do."

"Good," Irene turns toward the view of the fair stands and people growing smaller and more distant, "Even if I was your last choice, I'm glad I was able to be a good date."

Seungwan smirks, "I think that next time, you'll be my first choice."

The genie scoffs, "There you go again with the offhand flirting again. You're incredibly smooth despite all of your protests of being inexperienced." She takes on a more genuine tone before continuing, "How do you write so many love songs without knowing what love is like, if you don't mind me asking?"

The singer didn't expect such a poignant question, but felt it necessary to answer honestly. "It's a bit of a technicality, but you don't have to have been in love to know enough of what it's like to write about it. I think that, in some ways, perhaps the love I write about is more objective and pure, untainted by my own subjective perceptions of what the experience should be like had I already experienced it. I'm glad that it seems to resonate with people." 

As Seungwan turns to gaze out the windows, counting the number of people below, Irene looks at her. She notices the ebb of Seungwan's desire to fall in love, before a flicker, but growing and expanding in strength with each passing second. "In my experience," Irene pauses, "the most beautiful love songs have always been written by those in love."

"Then I must not write beautiful ones. Maybe one day, then." She laughs, " Wouldn't it be so much easier if I could just wish for someone to fall in love with me?" Irene is about to interject, but Seungwan continues, "Oh, and I remember the rules, don't get me wrong. Just an idea."

As they reach the highest point, the glittering lights below become their smallest, shrinking to the size of a pen tip, like traces of highlighter streaked across the earth. 

Seungwan turns back to Irene. "Don't people usually kiss at the tops of Ferris Wheels?"

"I suppose they do, but we're not like other people, are we?"

"I guess not," Seungwan smiles, flitting her eyes to Irene's own before returning them to the floor between them, lost in thought. She perks back up. "I think that this view more than compensates for a kiss --" She says, but she's interrupted by a pair of lips on her cheek. Her smile goes wider. "Thought you said we're not like other people."

"We're not, but I couldn't leave you looking that sad. It is my job to grant your wishes after all, and your heart told me that you wanted a kiss." 

Seungwan can only manage a sheepish nod in response, face flushing.

"Do you always get so weirdly sentimental?"

"What do you mean?" Seungwan asks, head tilting to the side.

"It's just that," Irene ponders, trying to properly organize her thoughts before she responds, "I'm just surprised is all."

"Surprised? It's practically the job of us lyricists to be sentimental. We're the poets of the music world, in an eternal quest to highlight the beauty of my surroundings via the universal language. It would be a shame if there was no one around to document moments like this," Seungwan leans her head back, eyes peering through the small glass pane in the ceiling at the darkening sky. 

"That's a wonderful way of putting it, and there's nothing wrong with being sentimental, I think. We need more people like you. Artists are undervalued in every era I’ve seen." Irene takes a moment to look upward, following Seungwan's gaze and wishing that she could understand the curious nature of the world in the exact way that Seungwan does. "It's not necessarily your sentimentality that I find surprising, more-so the ease through which you can switch between the different aspects of your personality. You're a lot more multifaceted than I would have thought. One second you’ll be shy, another second, scatterbrained and stressed, and yet another moment you’ll shift into a cool gentleman. If I were a fan, I would be absolutely thrilled to see all of these sides of Seungwan."

They start descending, the view of navy blue sky through the ceiling being replaced by the white steel of the Ferris Wheel's suspensions. "That's the thing, you know. The fans only get to see Wendy's smiles, but not much else."

"I think they would love to see more."

"Maybe they will, eventually. For now," Irene sees a flash of the performer, Wendy, in Seungwan's smile. "Be happy to know that you're the only one that gets to see the rest of me." Seungwan's natural, more self-conscious demeanor returns, "You and Seulgi, at least."

The vehicle comes to a stop, doors opening up on the opposite side of where they entered. They exit, feeling as though the world had shifted ever so slightly in comparison to the way they had left it when they first entered the carriage.

They drive back to the apartment making conversation about any and every topic for the twenty minutes that they have together, the whole earth a stage, narrowing to only a spotlight centered on them. When they pull into the parking garage, Seungwan opens Irene's door for the final time that evening. They walk back up the steps, both wishing that they could've extended their time together. Neither of them could've anticipated the quickly closing gap between the two, having expanded the range of their relationship to extend beyond the simple banter that they had started with. They would never admit how worthwhile this day was, nor could any of their verbalizations give due justice to it.

Turning the key and entering their unit, they quietly shuffle their shoes off their feet. As they're about to enter their respective rooms, Irene stops, arm reaching toward her door's handle. "Thank you for today, Seungwan. Even with all of the things I've seen, and all of the places I've been, today will be an experience I'll remember for many more years."

"Anytime, really. We should do it again."

"You'll have to make sure to outdo yourself every time. I won't expect anything less." Opening her door, the genie makes one final comment. "Make sure this song is excellent." She closes the door, leaving Seungwan to stare at the white wood.

"I think it will be."

Seungwan returns to her own room, shedding her coat and pulling out her lyric notebook, void of any notes from their date. Yet, she feels as though she didn't need to write anything down, that the experience was too rich to properly put down on paper. All she needs is to capture the feelings of a new, exciting, blooming love. She scribbles down a short title at the top of the page: "Day 1".