Okay, it’s official. Minjeong was lost. She swore she’s passed that building for the third time now.

 

She had just walked a few minutes from her accommodations, finally deciding to go out and walk around, somehow finding herself roaming around the streets of London after being cooped up in her hotel room, tortured by jet lag and laziness for the past five days and now she found herself in the middle of a place totally foreign, packed with people totally alien.

 

The alien here would be me, she thought, reminding herself that she’s the tourist and not the other way around.

 

Minjeong had no idea where she was and it’s beautiful. The scenery, not the fact that she’s wandering aimlessly.

 

She chewed on the pastry she bought from that one bakeshop she passed somewhere near the Leake Street Tunnel. The grafittis there were cool and she did not pass on the chance to snap some photos. She also walked by numerous art galleries, which she made a mental note to visit sometime later.

 

Her goal was to get to the London Eye on foot without asking for directions, just for the kicks. A little challenge was always welcome. How hard could it be? She could already see the enormous Ferris wheel from her hotel room window. But alas, now she had no idea where she was. It wasn’t the first time she lost her way around a country. Hell, she even gets lost in her own neighborhood so she wasn’t really alarmed. She got her wallet and phone with her anyway. If she needed to head back, then she could always just hail a cab. Or call a friend. Or tweet an SOS message. Or book the latest flight back to Korea. It always worked, and yes, she had done all those before.

 

She gawked at and took photos of the wonderful architecture, feeling like she was walking through the pages of a magazine. Everything towered over her--the buildings, the pretty lamp posts, the occasional trees, and, well, the people. But that was in every country, even in her own.

 

She walked some more because really, there’s nothing else to do, while the fact that she’s really in London slowly settled in.

 

Minjeong wasn’t one for spontaneous trips. She’s the type to meticulously organize an itinerary, not jump on the first plane to London in search for inspiration.

 

Thinking back, it was pretty crazy. One moment she was sitting in front of her laptop with headphones hanging around her neck, fingers dancing around the strings of her guitar looking for that certain melody--

 

“Having a block?” her longtime friend and trusted agent, among other things, Uchinaga Aeri, had waltzed into the kitchen where Minjeong was seated at the counter.

 

She grunted in reply.

 

“You know what you need, ‘hon?”

 

Minjeong finally tore her eyes from her screen to frown at the girl, “What?”

 

Aeri’s slow smile had Minjeong rolling her eyes before she could even hear her answer.

 

“Get laid. You need to get laid.”

 

Minjeong grimaced and threw her empty plastic bottle at her friend’s face, which harmlessly bounced off the laughing Aeri’s shoulder. “If you don’t have anything decent to say then I suggest you shut up.”

 

Aeri rummaged through the refrigerator as though it was hers. “Seriously though. You need to unwind. Go on a trip or something. You’ve been sitting there, glaring at your laptop for ages. Go on a vacation and look for inspiration. See? It even rhymes!”

 

Minjeong shouldn’t have thought about it but she did and while she went over the ramifications in her head, Aeri fiddled with her phone.

 

She really should’ve found that suspicious.

 

“No, unnie. Just no.” she had finally decided, taking off her spectacles and massaging the bridge of her nose.

 

“Too late. I already got you tickets.” Aeri waved her phone around, Minjeong vaguely seeing the airline’s webpage. “Even booked you a hotel.” the bane of her existence grinned and even waved her hand, “Sayonara,”

 

--and the next moment, Minjeong’s sitting in a plane not bound for Japan as she had initially thought; because of what Aeri had said but naur it was headed to Eng-freaking-land.

 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Minjeong’s feet finally brought her somewhere she recognized. The green leaves of Jubilee Gardens had turned into different shades of red. There was a nice playground for kids and lawns that went on forever. She sat on the grass, under the shade of a massive tree. From where she was, she had a clear view of the enormous London Eye. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Okay, maybe coming here wasn’t so bad after all.

 

A sharp sound pierced through the air, making her wince and breaking her peace. Somebody was setting up some equipment just a good distance from where she sat. Piano notes trickled out of the speakers, melodies in contrast to the crowd’s collective chatter.

 

“Hey, everyone. I’m going to sing you some songs today. Hope you enjoy.”

 

Minjeong’s looking now, partly in irritation, mostly in curiosity. She had witnessed street performances before, and had greatly enjoyed them. Her eyes locked on the figure seated in front of a keyboard, to the smile that shone even from where she was seated.

 

“Dirty old river, must you keep rolling, flowing into the night. People so busy, make me feel dizzy, taxi light shines so bright.”

 

The girl--who she realized was Asian (maybe even Korean, but she couldn’t be so sure)--started singing Waterloo Sunset and Minjeong found herself swaying along, annoyance from the earlier interruption long gone. Her piano playing was skillful, her stage presence impeccable. She’s got to be a professional performer of some sort.

 

“But I don’t need no friends. As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset, I am in paradise.”

 

Her voice sounded nice--deep yet dreamy, with a unique tone. Her vocal performance had quickly gathered quite a crowd, cameras and phones filming every second of the song. Minjeong wondered if she was a celebrity or something. Had she unknowingly walked into a Begin Again filming or something?

 

“Excuse me,”

 

Minjeong turned away from the girl to look at the owner of the finger tapping her shoulder. A man was behind her, in an all black ensemble of black t-shirt, black ripped jeans, and black sneakers, awkwardly leaning down with his ash purple hair and sheepish smile.

 

“Yes?” Minjeong prompted.

 

“Forgive me if this sounds rude but, are you Korean?”

 

Minjeong paused for a moment, stupefied. “Um, yes?”

 

“So, like, you’re a tourist here?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh, thank God.” he straightened up, head rolled back in relief before sitting beside her, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” he said, switching to their native language.

 

“Sorry, what?” Minjeong asked in the same tongue, bewildered by everything that was suddenly happening.

 

The dude laughed. He got a nice dimple on his cheek. “I’m sorry, you must be very confused. It’s just that I have this paper I’m working on and it’s been quite a task looking for respondents. I’m Jung Jaehyun by the way, from King’s College.” he offered a hand, which Minjeong shook.

 

He went off talking about school and his paper, and Minjeong couldn’t do anything but smile and nod. In the span of more or less an hour, she had discovered that he was taking masters in social sciences, had a roommate named Johnny who had given him the idea of going around London to look for a Korean tourist he could interview. Minjeong didn’t mind the company, which was why she found herself exchanging numbers and agreeing to get interviewed by him tomorrow at Primo Bar, though it was mostly because he seemed nice and even showed her his King’s College I.D. so she knows he wasn’t a swindler or a murderer or anything like that.

 

“It’s really nice talking to you and I’d love to take you on a ride in London’s Eye but I got to run.” he eventually said, giving her an apologetic smile while tapping on his wristwatch. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I hope?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“Thank you so much.” after a few dozen more flurries of gratitude, Minjeong was left alone, checking her phone that apparently had rung three times unnoticed, all of which were from Aeri. The device then buzzed again.

 

“What?”

 

“Jeez, Minjeong. Why so grumpy? Overseas calls cost a lot, you know. The least you can do is greet me properly.”

 

“Then get to the point if it’s too expensive.”

 

“I’m just checking in on you. You know, if you’re getting that pricey inspiration because we need new sets of songs produced so I can pay for my phone bills.”

 

“Aeri, you have more than enough to pay the entire population’s bills so I think that’s the least of your problems.” Minjeong reminded her. “Did you really think I’d get slapped by a musical eureka as soon as I step on this city?”

 

“Well, yes. The air there is different.” Aeri replied as-a-matter-of-factly. “Please tell me you’re at least seeing sights and enjoying yourself so I know I did not waste money because if you’re just going to stay in your hotel room snoring then I should’ve just tied you up in your bed here in Seoul.”

 

Minjeong chuckled, “I’m at the Jubilee Gardens, near the London Eye. A street performer’s serenading us with lovely songs,” her eyes drifted back to the girl who still haven’t finished her set. “She sounds nice.”

 

“Ooh, a street performer, huh?” Aeri mused, “Why don’t you go talk to her? Who knows, maybe you can finally find some inspiration. Bond over music. Stuff like that.”

 

“What?” Minjeong blanched at the suggestion. “No.” she said, even as she sneaked another glance at the girl who was now singing the melancholic Here Comes The Sun by The Beatles.

 

“Why not? I personally find street performers romantic.”

 

“Dude, I’m here to write songs, not hook up.”

 

“Oh, I see, so you don’t find her cute then.”

 

“I didn’t say anything like that.”

 

“So you do find her cute.”

 

“This conversation ends here. Your phone bill is rising as we speak. Goodbye.” Minjeong hit the end button without waiting for a reply.

 

She lingered around long enough to watch the sun set, snap some more pictures, flooding Aeri with badly taken selfies just to annoy her, and enjoy a few more songs before finally getting up to leave.

 

But before she could take a step, she met the girl’s eyes and she froze as though held in gunpoint. The moment she became the recipient of the most blinding smile she’s ever had the honor to witness, she knew she had to get out of there fast.

 

Well--okay. She may have found her a little bit too cute.

 

***

 

The Primo Bar was one of the best spots in London to enjoy drinks, music, and company--at least that was what Jaehyun had told her. They had agreed to meet at 8:30 in the evening, which Minjeong would have definitely missed if not for Aeri’s phone call waking her up at eight.

 

“I can’t believe you’re still asleep at this hour.” Aeri’s chiding voice came somewhere under her messy sheets where she had mindlessly tossed her phone, regrettably managing to put it on loudspeak before she dashed to the bathroom to wash up.

 

“Why are you awake? Isn’t it, like, 5 AM there or something?” she yelled as she pulled the first thing she grabbed in her luggage--a white sweater and a pair of jeans. She can do with those.

 

“I have an appointment at 6. I’m actually on time, unlike someone.” Aeri jabbed, “Anyway, I didn’t know you’re meeting someone. Is it the busker girl?”

 

That made Minjeong pause. “What?” she snorted incredulously, “No, that’s ridiculous.” she resumed wriggling into her pants as she told Aeri about Jaehyun needing to interview her for his paper.

 

“A man, huh?” Aeri mused. “Damn, I didn’t think you’d swing that way.”

 

“I never will but hey, he’s a fine man.” after putting on her lipstick, she grabbed her phone from her bed and went straight to the door, “I have to go. I’ll call you later, ‘kay?”

 

“Alright. I expect juicy news.”

 

“With him? Pfft, no.”

 

“I thought he was fine?”

 

“Fine or no, he’s still a man.”

 

Luckily, Minjeong easily grabbed a cab as soon as she walked out of her hotel. The bar was near and traffic wasn’t awful, helping her arrive on time. Jaehyun didn’t seem to be there yet, however, but Primo was nice. The staff were accommodating, the interior was cozy, and it didn’t take long before Minjeong got comfortable on her seat five tables from the stage where live music was being performed.

 

Sipping on her strawberry sunrise, she sent Jaehyun a text that she’d already arrived before looking around the place, loving the dim lighting on black and white furniture pieces and the lovely guitar strums. She hummed along, fingers tapping on the table until her eyes fell on the stage where someone was seated, acoustic guitar on her lap.

 

“Look what we got. A thickening plot.” The girl shifted to shoot the patrons a smile and dark locks made way for a familiar face that got Winter inadvertently in a breath. “Just when I started getting used to the thought of closing the book,” her eyes swept around the room, met Winter’s, and stayed there, a brief look of recognition on her slightly lifted brows. “There you were, in every nook of every word, every page, and now I wanna stay and wait, ‘cause…”

 

Minjeong looked away, taking a big gulp of her drink, hoping the cold would even out the red she was so sure was showing on her pale cheeks. She could still hear her voice streaming out of the speakers and it didn’t help that she sounded so good. What was she doing there? Was she stalking--no, that’s an absurd assumption. It was just a coincidence. Yeah, pure coincidence.

 

While waiting for Jaehyun (who still hadn’t replied to her message, by the way), she took out her notebook, pages open and pen uncapped in preparation to catch the possible random bouts of eureka she was hoping to have but it never came--mostly because she was channeling all her concentration on preventing herself from looking at the stage again as the songs changed. It was particularly difficult when the girl sang that one Ed Sheeran song Minjeong had been listening to for the past month.

 

Time ticked by and Minjeong had inhaled a few more glasses of different cocktails and two orders of smoked salmon sandwich, had watched countless TikTok videos, and crumpled numerous papers from her notebook but Jaehyun was still missing in action.

 

She twirled her pen around her fingers, biting her cheek. She’s been sitting there for nearly two hours already and even Busker Girl’s set had long come to an end. She glared at her phone, as though it would get a reply out of the man who apparently had stood her up.

 

Was she pissed? Yeah. The dude got her rushing out of her hotel room after all and wasted her precious time that could’ve been spent sleeping. Huffing, she put her pen down a little too loudly that other customers turned to look but it’s okay, she didn’t really care.

 

“If you give me a chance, I can try to fix your day.”

 

The Korean she haven’t heard in a while got Minjeong flinching. She turned, watching the newcomer take the empty seat across her with rapidly blinking eyes.

 

“Hi.” the stranger smiled and it got Minjeong wondering if the alcohol was finally kicking in. Strangers weren’t supposed to look this mesmerizing. “Girl from the park, right? Korean, red flannel, beautiful smile, sitting at 2 o’clock?”

 

Minjeong’s brows met, eyes narrowing, “You were...keeping tabs on me?”

 

Busker Girl was quick to shake her head, “No!--well, yes? But not in a bad way!” she fumbled over her explanation, “I mean, I was looking at you. Couple of times--okay, no, multiple times. But that’s because it’s very difficult not to. In a good way. Like, not in a stalkerish way or anything. Just--you’re very pretty.”

 

Minjeong couldn’t help but smile a little at her ramble, noting how nice she sounded even when speaking. “Thanks, I guess?”

 

“...I’m making a fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

A slow smile crept on the girl’s face, slightly leaning forward to look closer at Minjeong’s face. “But it’s working, right? Your day’s getting better?”

 

She scoffed, looking away though feeling her lips curve up uncontrollably. “You’ll have to try better than that.”

 

The girl grinned, a dimple appearing on her cheek. “I’ll take that as permission to stay a bit longer. If that’s okay?” she instantly added, “I’m not making you uncomfortable or anything, I hope.”

 

Minjeong studied her, amused by how she could switch from a confident flirt to a worrywart. It was a bit endearing and maybe that’s what made her say, “Surprisingly, you’re not.”

 

“So who’s the douche who stood you up? Was it the guy with that clapped purple hair chatting with you yesterday?”

 

“I thought you were going to fix my day,” Minjeong dryly remarked.

 

“Nothing better than cursing men with a random stranger.” The brunette winked. “I mean, if I had a date like you I’ll be twelve hours early.”

 

Minjeong couldn’t help but laugh, finding herself slowly relaxing around this ridiculous lady. “It’s nothing like that. He was going to interview me for a paper, that’s all.” she explained, for the second time that night, about why they agreed to meet up and repeatedly clarified that it wasn’t anything romantic, though she really didn’t have to.

 

“So you’re a busker?” Minjeong found herself asking, genuinely curious. It was her first time having a conversation with a street performer and as a songwriter, they always piqued her interest.

 

The girl stared at her before chuckling, “Sort of, but not really.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means that I busk but at the same time I don’t.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“Does it make sense?”

 

“It does but at the same time it doesn’t.”

 

She laughed, “Touche.” she said. “This is going to sound really creepy but I want your skin. It’s really pretty.”

 

“As someone who just read The Skin Collector, I am very much creeped but thank you, I appreciate it.”

 

She’s laughing again and it made Minjeong seriously consider a career in comedy.

 

Hours felt like minutes, talking to this girl. Maybe it was because they’ve seen each other before (but it was only once, logic would argue, and the only interaction they shared was a brief eye contact) but she felt like a longtime friend, naturally charming with her quick wit and sense of humor that matched Minjeong’s. Conversation flowed smoothly, and if Minjeong had a penny each time the girl laughed at something random she said, she’d be a millionaire.

 

Eventually, Minjeong’s phone rang and reminded her of the time. It was Aeri, probably calling to check up on her as usual but for once, she wished she didn’t.

 

“I have to go,” she reluctantly announced, silencing her phone. She’ll just call Aeri back later.

 

The girl smirked, “Parents?”

 

Minjeong rolled her eyes, reaching out to land a hit on the brunette’s arm. “Shut up.”

 

She stood, about to leave yet her feet refused to move, standing still as she stared at the girl as though she’s a puzzle she couldn’t solve as she internally debated with herself. Busker Girl tilted her head to the side, probably wondering what was taking her so long, and even lifted a hand in goodbye. Nodding her head in response, Minjeong finally decided and started to leave. She was nearing the exit, still bothered by thoughts that eventually concluded with it and her feet changed their route, quickly backtracking to their table in hopes that she’s still there and she was, looking up at her in surprise.

 

“Did you forget something?”

 

“Can I have your name, at least?” she asked, out of breath.

 

The girl’s wide eyes turned into crinkling crescents, an enigmatic smile on her lips. “If destiny permits, we’ll definitely meet again and when that happens, who knows? Maybe we’ll learn more than just each other’s names.”

 

Minjeong gaped at her. A second. Two. “I didn’t know you’re a hopeless romantic.” she bluntly said.

 

The girl laughed, “Hey, we could be destined to be friends. You never know.”

 

That made Minjeong pause, confused. Did she just...get friend-zoned? Was Busker Girl perhaps straight and was only being friendly? But she was horribly flirtatious! Kept drowning her with compliments saying she’s pretty and her skin looked great and--yeah, okay, now that she thought about it, she definitely sounded het.

 

Wow. Minjeong couldn’t believe she got shot down when she was just starting to consider.

 

“I-” she breathed out a laugh, a bit embarrassed and awkward. “Well, alright.”

 

Shaking her head in disbelief, she turned, heading to the exit. This time, without turning back.

 

It was for the better. Names would mean there would be something to remember during quiet nights, something more specific to recall other than blurry snippets of conversation and vague memories of laughter and smiles and Minjeong didn’t like that. “Busker Girl” was easier to forget than, say, Catherine or Park Jihyun or something like that.

 

Besides, destiny was bull. She’s pretty sure this would be the last time they’d meet.

 

She got on a cab, still feeling a bit lightheaded from the series of events. Her pride took a strong hit. She had often been told that she had the power to bend even the straightest pole and she had, multiple times, all of which ended up with her just leading them on, not really the type to commit to a relationship. Maybe this was karma biting her .

 

Her phone rang. It was Aeri again. A good thing, since Minjeong had absolutely forgotten to call her back.

 

“Hey.”

 

“How was your dinner date?’

 

Minjeong grunted, irritated due to how close that hit home. “It wasn’t a dinner date.” though it could have.

 

“Yeah, whatever. So, how was it?”

 

“Jaehyun didn’t show up.” she said, earning a gasp, “Busker Girl was at the bar though, performing.” she told Aeri everything, wanting someone to confide with, even if that someone would inevitably make fun of her getting lowkey rejected. By the time she finished retelling, she had arrived back to her hotel, riding the elevator up to her floor.

 

“Oh my god, that’s horrible!” Aeri sympathized, though Minjeong could clearly hear the humor and laughter in her voice. “I bet it hurts right there in your meow meow.”

 

Metal doors slid open and she stepped out into the carpeted hallway. “Oh, shut up. I wasn’t even that invested. She was just a ‘maybe’. Now she’s definitely a ‘no’. All caps in bold and red Arial black font ‘no’.”

 

Aeri let out the laugh Minjeong knew she’d been holding in. “Serves you right, playgirl. How does it feel? Does it at least make you wanna write a song?”

 

Minjeong hummed in thought while rummaging her purse for her keycard, phone sandwiched between her ear and shoulder. “Yeah, it makes me wanna write something spiteful.”

 

“The general public would like that.” Aeri drily remarked.

 

Her hand finally grasped the plastic card, immediately pressed it against the sensor. “Hey, the majority of the world’s population is single, you know. I Googled that last night.” the door beeped and she walked right in, plopping straight on the couch.

 

“Yes but the majority of that majority loves a good love song, regardless if it’s happy or sad.”

 

“Your source being?”

 

“Teacher Lee Sooman. He said that in our meeting earlier. I have a recording. I have proof. That’s a hundred percent more reliable than your Google which you may or may not have actually looked up.”

 

She haven’t. “I’ll write it when I have it.”

 

“That’s questionable.” Aeri said. “Want me to name the biggest travesty I’ve discovered in years?”

 

“What?”

 

“Your love life.”

 

Minjeong scoffed while Aeri’s obnoxious laughter filled her ear. “Okay, this conversation ends here. Bye--”

 

“Wait!” Aeri yelled, making Minjeong wince. “You know what you need?”

 

“I swear to God, if this is another one of your bull, I’ll feed you to the--”

 

“At least let me finish!”

 

“I have trust issues with that question, Uchinaga. The last time, I was advised to get laid and I ended up on a plane to London.”

 

“Go to Paris.”

 

Minjeong’s face instantly scrunched. “For what?”

 

“For the healing of your humiliated heart! Hook up with girls in the city of love and write songs about it!”

 

Minjeong pinched her nose bridge, “...you’re telling me to get laid again.”

 

“But the company’s pressuring us, Minjeong. They want the songs done ASAP.”

 

“Then they should find a different songwriter.”

 

“Minjeong, you already signed the contract.” Aeri reminded, making her grimace because she was right. She had already signed the contract.

 

Minjeong thought about travelling more and grimaced. “I don’t know, unnie, I--”

 

“Here’s the catch.” Aeri said, “You won’t have the chance to coincidentally meet your Busker Girl again. No chance for her so called friendly destiny to wrap its greasy fingers around your throat. Take it as a chance to move on from this night. Leave it behind in London! What do you say?”

 

Minjeong fell silent, unable to believe that she’s actually thinking about this proposal.

 

Hmmm…

 

Memories were already getting cloudy but she could still her voice singing, Oh, I will hold on to the afterglow instead of Ed.

 

“Fine. Get me on that goddamned plane.”

 

***

 

“Hey, everyone. This is Karina, and welcome back to my channel.”

 

She grinned at the camera as she walked to the boarding area, holding her passport, phone, visa, boarding pass, and wallet all in one hand.

 

“We’re saying goodbye to London and this week, I’ll be showing you around Paris. Song covers, street performances, and other random stuff will still be put up as usual, which you would know if you’ve been following my channel--if you’re not, why haven’t you yet? The subscribe button is down below.” she winked, “Anyway, I have to board the plane now and I want to spare you the sight of me panicking so I’m going to turn this off now. It’s real pretty in the city of love so I’m super excited. It’s going to be fun. See you in Paris!”

 

Stopping the recording, she put the camera in her bag and pulled up her face mask and wore her sunglasses. With a deep breath, she went to face her fears: boarding the plane.

 

Yoo Jimin loved her job, really. No strict schedules, no scary bosses, no paperwork, no tight skirts and high heels...the list could go on. She loved travelling, seeing new places, meeting new people, and sharing her experience to the world. However, it did require her to get on the plane more times than she liked and she couldn’t even complain because she signed up for it the moment she left Seoul and swore never to return.

 

She finally settled on her seat, though it was still uncomfortable no matter how many times she squirmed. Flight attendants were showing them what to do if the plane crashed, which was exactly what Jimin feared might actually happen each time she’s on one. She gripped the armrest tight, knuckles turning white. She could feel the passenger beside her send a glance but she paid her no attention.

 

She listened to the stewardess’s voice, paid attention to their demonstrations as if her life depended on it--because, well, it kind of was.

 

What if the pilot falls asleep? Or what if a bird gets caught into the plane’s turbines? What if they hit a stray duck? What if there’s a hurricane up ahead? They’re all going to die. No, they would fall first. They would fall from 38,000 feet.

 

Her stomach lurched just thinking about it.

 

Oh, god, she hates flying.

 

What did she do to deserve this torture? When will stupid humans invent a teleporting machine? Can’t she just travel via fireplace? That worked quite well for Harry Potter.

 

The pilot’s garbled voice announcing their departure had Jimin tightening her seatbelt to inhuman levels. She squeezed her eyes shut and as the aircraft started to move, she may or may not have started to hyperventilate.

 

“Um, are you okay?”

 

She barely registered the question, replying with a quick nod.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes. Please don’t mind me. I’m fine.”

 

A pregnant pause. “Busker Girl?”

 

Jimin froze on her seat. This time not because of fear but because of surprise and what the , destiny why now?

 

“Busker from the park, right? Korean, white jacket, pretty smile, singing at 8 o’clock?”

 

“Oh, yeah, um, hi. Ha-ha.” She removed her mask and sunglasses to give the girl a quick smile. “Nice running into you again.”

 

Jimin cursed herself for being too preoccupied with panicking that she didn’t notice who her seatmate was, how familiar that blonde hair was. Act cool, Jimin. Act natural. Don’t embarrass yourself.

 

“Are you stalking me?”

 

The accusation was so bizarre Jimin momentarily forgot about her predicament. “Excuse me? Why would I?” the plane sped up and it got her squeaking and holding on for her life.

 

The girl studied her. “You’re not used to flying, are you?”

 

Cover blown. Looks like she’d be facing this head on: shamelessly bluffing. “Humans don’t fly. Of course I’m not used to flying.”

 

“Superman flies.”

 

Jimin sent a mildly annoyed look at her seatmate, baffled with where this conversation was going. “He’s an alien.” she deadpanned.

 

“Wonder woman?”

 

“She’s not even remotely human.”

 

“What about Tony Stark?”

 

“He got that entire suit thing going on for him.”

 

“Steve Rogers?”

 

“I’m sorry but do I look like I got injected with steroids to you?”

 

Pretty Girl laughed and Jimin huffed, though her slight irritation ebbs at the girl’s chuckles because 1.) She’s more than pretty and 2.) As much as she wanted to think she’s not that shallow, she really was too pretty for her own good.

 

Blonde hair, sparkling eyes, and a laugh that could seem to cure cancer and grow flowers--she looked like heaven here on earth and Jimin briefly wondered where she could sign up for this religion.

 

“You know your superheroes well.” the girl commented.

 

“Can I ask what the point of that conversation was?”

 

“This.” the girl lifted her arm from their shared armrest. “Your grip was getting kind of painful.”

 

Jimin sobered up. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice. Did it hurt?”

 

“No worries. I don’t mind.” she shrugged, “If you need help, don’t hesitate to tell me about it.”

 

Thank heavens for kind and gorgeous seatmates. Clouds fill the window and Jimin realized they have already taken off--the part she hated the most--and she didn’t even notice. She glanced at the girl who’s now tapping away on her phone, grateful for her clever distraction.

 

She tried to get her mind off the fact that she’s thousands of feet up in the air and had just embarrassed herself to the pretty girl in red flannel by reading a random magazine. So they met again. So she may or may not have said sappy stuff about destiny. But at the moment, her head wasn’t really with her. Maybe they can talk about it--learning each other’s names and more--when they land.

 

Just as Jimin started to relax, managing to convince herself that no, this ninety thousand pound flying metal wasn’t running by pure dark sorcery and telling herself that pilots must be doing their best so they won’t crash--the plane started shaking (holy goddamned turbulence) and she grabbed on to the armrest again.

 

“Oh, sorry.” Jimin muttered, flinching away after accidentally grabbing the girl’s arm again.

 

“It’s okay.” she gave her a small reassuring smile, removing her arm so Jimin could comfortably choke the armrest all she wanted.

 

The plane shook again and Jimin flinched, squeezing her eyes shut and wringing the armrest. We’re gonna die. We’re gonna die. We’re gonna die. We’re gonna crash and burn and--

 

“Um, hey,” the girl’s nice, adorable voice broke through her mantra. “What if you try imagining that we’re riding a fun rollercoaster or something? It might help.” she suggested.

 

Jimin quickly shook her head. “If I do, I might start screaming.”

 

“Okay. Then what about thinking that we’re just in a car and it’s shaking because of potholes?”

 

“I at simulations.”

 

“Right.”

 

The girl fell silent after that, probably giving up on trying to calm her down. Jimin took deep breaths, in the middle of trying not to think of the possibility that she might arrive in Paris a cardiac arrest patient when suddenly something touched her ears, making her jump in surprise.

 

“Sorry, did I startle you?”

 

Jimin stared at the girl in confusion, fixing the headphones placed on her ears without warning.

 

“I thought music might help.” Pretty Girl shrugged, nonchalant. “I hope your taste matches mine.”

 

Jimin’s tense behavior must be disturbing her. “You really don’t have to. I’m sorry if I bothered you or anything.”

 

Pretty Girl rolled her eyes, “Please. I understand your struggle. Music calms me down a lot. Maybe it would work on you too?”

 

Jimin eyed her. She actually brought her airpods in her bag which she did plan to use later on but she didn’t want to reject the girl’s kind gesture, no matter how offhanded she tried to act, so she adjusts the headphones on her ears once more and muttered an ‘okay, thanks’ which got a smile and a ‘don’t mention it’ in response.

 

A song started playing in Jimin’s ears. It’s nice, calm and soothing. Was Pretty Girl playing her Anxiety Relief Playlist?

 

Jimin closed her eyes, feeling her unease drizzle out from her nerves. It was actually nice and calming and she found herself teetering between the conscious and unconscious, mildly aware of the surroundings but also dead to the world.

 

She’s in that first stage of non-REM sleep, almost crossing over to dreamland when the plane shook again and she’s jumping on her seat, eyes wide and holding on for dear life, headphones slipping off to her neck. Raindrops were spattered on the window, clouds thick and dark. Hurricane up ahead, she knew it! She called it! They’re all going to--

 

“No, we’re not going to die.”

 

Jimin snapped out of her panic, remembering her seatmate who also happened to be that pretty girl she had coincidentally met three times now. “What?”

 

“You look like you need reassurance.” the girl answered, calmly tapping on her phone. “Go back to sleep, we’re not going to crash.”

 

“How can you be so sure?”

 

“Just am.”

 

Maybe it was the way she was so unbothered that had Jimin relaxing by a fraction. “I’m so sorry you have to put up with me being like this.”

 

The girl shrugged, “It’s okay. Aren’t we, like, destined besties now or something?” she said and there was a sharp edge to her tone, though Jimin couldn’t be sure what or why.

 

She chuckled, remembering their recent encounter three days ago. “I told you so.”

 

“Yeah, well, if you’re feeling better, it would be nice if you let go. Of my hand. That you’re holding. No, seriously, I think my blood circulation’s getting cut off.”

 

“Oh! I’m so so sorry!” Jimin immediately let go and the girl massaged her abused hand.

 

“Please, stop apologizing.” the blonde blessed her with a small smile, just the tiniest, barest minimum smile but it was enough to have Jimin blurting, “You should smile more.”

 

The girl stared at her before scoffing, “Right. Thank you, bestie, but that would be a no.”

 

“Why not? Your smiles are pretty.”

 

She gave her a look that made it seem like Jimin just insulted her instead of the other way around. “Jeez.” she’s scoffing again and Jimin just couldn’t get why, “I get it. Thanks.”

 

Was she mad? About what? Jimin wasn’t really sure. Was it because she’s being such a fussy flyer? No, she already told her it’s okay. Maybe it’s because she hadn't fulfilled her promise of telling her name?

 

“What do you plan to do in Paris?” Jimin asked, batting her lashes. “Shopping at Champs-Élysées? See the Eiffel Tower?”

 

The girl didn’t look like she wanted to talk to her but answered anyway. “No. I plan to hook up and write songs about it.”

 

Jimin was aghast but the blonde looked serious--hell, she always looked serious. “That’s it? I mean, yeah sure, hooking up is great but have you seen the Louvre? Notre Dame? The Palace of Versailles?”

 

She scrunched her nose, “I think I might have passed those multiple times before. I was busy with work so I wasn’t really paying attention.”

 

Jimin gasped so hard it sounded like she was hyperventilating, “You mean you haven’t gone around? Oh, boy, you’re missing out on so much!

 

She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t hold the geek back. She went on gushing about different monuments and galleries, the amount of art and history in Louvre, the gardens of Tuileries which the unconvinced girl just responded with, “You sound like a Paris tourism advocate or something.”

 

Jimin grabbed her arm, “Come with me, I’ll show you around.” she paused, realizing how that sounded, “I mean, if you don’t have anyone to go with--which I’m assuming, you don’t. But--”

 

“Are you crazy?”

 

“You’ve got nothing to lose! I’ll bring you to see all the sights! I’ll even help you hook up and write songs about it.”

 

The girl nodded, “You are crazy,” she confirmed.

 

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” she shook her arm, getting excited.

 

“I’m sorry, miss ma’am, but I don’t even know your name.”

 

Jimin rolled her eyes, “It’s Yoo Jimin.”

 

“What?”

 

“Yoo Jimin.” she repeated, “That’s my name.”

 

The girl paused, blinking, “Okay? And?”

 

Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be confused, “Didn’t you want to know? Like, you literally asked, like, five seconds ago.”

 

“I wasn’t asking. I was just stating a fact that I don’t know you.”

 

“Well, you went back for it three days ago.”

 

“Yes, well, sadly, it’s already three days later. Your subscription already expired, but thanks for the information, I guess.”

 

“Subscription, wha--then what about your name?”

 

“If destiny permits, you’d be able to guess it.”

 

Jimin didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry. On the other hand, the girl seemed to be content with her emotionless face, though she could see sparkles of mirth dancing in her eyes. Oh, she’s really liking this girl’s audacity.

 

“Okay then,” Jimin shifted, facing her and completely disregarding the fact that clouds were visible outside the window just behind the girl. “Are you a Park? Or is it Lee? Hmm...you definitely look like a Bae though,”

 

The girl scoffed, eyes rolling upward. “It’s easier than you think.”

 

“Huh. Let’s see...Kim Taehee?”

 

“No.”

 

“Jeon Jihyun?”

 

“No.”

 

“Song Hyekyo?”

 

“If you mess with me one more time, I swear to God, I--”

 

“Okay! Last one: Kim Taeyeon. You definitely look like a Kim Taeyeon.”

 

Jimin burst out laughing at how the girl looked so done. “That’s it. I’m transferring seats.”

 

“No, wait! Stay there, Kim Minjeong!”

 

The girl froze, petrified and gave her a look of genuine horror. It was adorable. “How..?”

 

Jimin smugly shrugged, “Destiny does permit, after all.”

 

Pretty Girl--or Minjeong--just kept staring at her with wide eyes and jaw agape. Then she grabbed her phone. “I’m calling the police.”

 

Jimin immediately snatched the device, “You’re not supposed to do calls in a flight!” she chided, “What if we crash?”

 

“It doesn’t work that way, genius.” Minjeong stood and called a flight attendant over, “Excuse me--”

 

“Your name’s written on your phone case, genius. Sit down.” Jimin yanked her back to her seat, the girl reduced to a shocked Pikachu meme all over again.

 

She could almost see the gears turn in her head as realization took place, vocalized with a single, “Ah.”

 

The flight attendant came over and Jimin smoothly asked if they could have two cans of soda. Meanwhile, Minjeong still looked like she’s contemplating and regretting every choice she had made in her life. Jimin chuckled, letting her process what just happened while sipping on the cola she ordered.

 

“So now that we know each other’s names, are you up to fulfil your destiny as my Paris bestie?”

 

Minjeong still had that look of uncertainty, “I still don’t have the assurance that you’re not a serial killer.”

 

Jimin understood her point. She, too, had no guarantee that this stranger wasn’t dangerous, though she really was cute and maybe that in itself wasn’t safe in more ways than one but it was pitiful to be in Paris yet fail to see the entirety of its beauty. Jimin took it upon herself to let people experience the best parts of each city and country and open their eyes to the world’s beauty.

 

“That won’t be much of a problem.” she checked her wristwatch, “We still have 45 minutes before this plane lands.”

 

Minjeong quirked a brow, “And?”

 

“And, that means we have 45 minutes to show each other’s government IDs, passport, and whatever documents to prove that we’re as normal as can be. Deal?”

 

Minjeong gave her that stare again for the nth time where she looked like she’s seriously contemplating the state of her sanity. “You could’ve just said ‘we have 45 minutes to get to know each other’ but no, you just had to make it sound weirder. Here’s my passport. Show me yours.”

 

And so the sharing of credentials began, awkward ID pictures revealed. Jimin was giggling throughout the entire ridiculous process and even perpetually straight-faced Minjeong was grinning and Jimin was kind of grateful smiling wasn’t something she did frequently. It would be rather difficult to survive those adorable gummy, dimpled smiles.

 

It somewhat worked though. In a little less than 45 minutes, Jimin learned that Minjeong was a year younger than her and was born in Yangsan during the New Year’s. She also had the cutest childhood photos which Jimin managed to snatch from her card holder when she wasn’t looking. Unfortunately, Jimin wasn’t able to enjoy the pictures much because it was wrestled out of her hands as soon as Minjeong noticed. Jimin wouldn’t have given it back that easily but other passengers had started complaining about their tiny scuffle.

 

“You’re a songwriter?” Jimin asked when the blonde revealed her occupation, “How come I’ve never come across your name before?”

 

Minjeong shrugged, “I use a pseudonym.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“You know, like a pen name--”

 

“I know what a pseudonym is,” Jimin interrupted, disgruntled. “I meant what’s your pseudonym?”

 

“Winter.”

 

...Winter? Winter? Oh my god. Oh.My.God. Holy , Winter?! Jimin gasped, a hand flying to while the other pointed at the blonde who just frowned in confusion, “No way. You’re...you’re the Winter?”

 

“I--”

 

“Oh my god, I love your songs! Can I have your autograph?”

 

Minjeong scratched her cheek and it was endearing how obviously uncomfortable she was about the compliments and the fuss. “Maybe if you tell me what you do for a living.”

 

“Oh, I’m a YouTuber. You know, I upload videos where I talk to myself like travel vlogs, covers, busking videos and stuff. No biggie, really. So can I have your autograph now?”

 

Minjeong chuckled at her enthusiasm, reluctantly taking the notebook Jimin had hastily pulled out of her bag. “Okay, I guess…”

 

“And a selfie!”

 

“Wha--” Minjeong had no choice but to smile at Jimin’s phone that was already poised for a picture.

 

The pilot’s garbled voice announced that they were already preparing for descent. Anxiety returned and Jimin was sitting stiff on her seat once more, growing quiet as she squeezed the hell out of the arm rest. She used to find it hard to go on a plane ride without holding someone’s hand but as she started going independent, she had to be content with gripping the armrest. At least it couldn’t feel pain or complain. Beside her, Minjeong glanced over multiple times and ended up putting the headphones over Jimin’s ears, her Anxiety Relief playlist drowning everything out.

 

Jimin closed her eyes and held on tighter as the plane tilted, speeding to the ground. Her ears popped and she wondered if she brought any gum only to remember that she forgot to. Everything happened in a flash, as it always did, but it didn’t make it any easier.

 

Her guts were still trying to rearrange themselves back to their original position as the plane taxied and her head was still lost up there in the clouds, too shaken from the entire flight that she forgot about Minjeong until the blonde stopped her from leaving the moment she claimed her baggage.

 

“My headphones.” the blonde simply said.

 

“Oh, right. Here.” Jimin clumsily fumbled with the device but fortunately managed to safely return it. “Thanks a lot. For everything. Flying really makes me nervous but you--you made it bearable. Thank you.”

 

Minjeong hummed, feet hesitantly lingering in the same place.

 

“So…” Jimin fiddled with her fingers, “About being my Paris bestie…”

 

“I…” Jimin pouted, making Minjeong falter. “...I’ll think about it.”

 

“You’re still unsure after seeing all my IDs?”

 

“They could be fake.”

 

Karina chuckled, shaking her head, “Damn, were you scammed all your life?”

 

A small smile played on Minjeong’s lips. “It’s better safe than sorry.”

 

They stood there, in the middle of the airport with people bustling around. It felt like a good-bye. But Jimin didn’t want it to end yet.

 

They were destined to be friends. She’s so sure of it.

 

But she also understood. Smacking her lips together, she mustered a confident grin, “Well, alright.” she grabbed her luggage, taking a step back. “See you the next time destiny strikes?”

 

Minjeong nodded, “See you the next time destiny strikes.”

 

After a brief exchange of good-bye waves, they part ways. Jimin told herself they’d definitely meet again. But what if they didn’t? What if this was the last time? Could Jimin handle the regret?

 

No, she couldn’t. destiny, she’ll put matters in her own, bare hands.

 

“Kim Minjeong!”

 

The blonde turned, brows rising in surprise at the girl jogging up to her, luggage left alone in the middle of the busy airport.

 

“Here.” a crumpled card was shoved into Minjeong’s hands, “If...just if, by any chance, your answer is yes…”

 

“Oh.” Minjeong’s eyes swept over the contact details before meeting hers.

 

“Be sure to call me, okay?”

 

Minjeong smiled. Jimin had been to many different places, had met many different people, but at that moment, the blonde was the most beautiful sight she had ever had the honor to lay her eyes upon.

 

“Okay.”

 

Little did Jimin know, she’d be jumping at every sound her phone makes for the next few days.

 

 

 

 

********

 

 

 

chapter 1 songs for context

Waterloo Sunset by The Kinks

Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles

Plot Twist by Niki

Afterglow by Ed Sheeran