Karina Yoo.

 

Also known as karomi on YouTube for almost ten years with 23 million subscribers and an Instagram star with the following count of over 30 million. Endorser of several cosmetic brands, had been the cover of Vogue numerous times, collaborated with multiple Hollywood and Korean celebrities, and walked the Givenchy runway thrice.

 

If Minjeong was to be honest, she didn’t really believe it at first until she saw for herself. Stalking the girl on Google, YouTube, and Instagram shut her up. Yoo Jimin was the real deal.

 

Paris was nice and all but Minjeong had been cooped in her hotel room the entire two days, lurking around the brunette’s social media accounts and perhaps staring a little too much at her Instagram photos and squinting at her latest tweets.

 

“Cute girl spotted 🙊 i am looking👁: respectfully”

 

“Omg saw the cutie from ystd again wth”

 

“1 like and i’ll go talk to her”

 

“See you in Paris 💋 #ParisBestie”

 

No matter how big or small she made her eyes, the girl in the photo attached in her last tweet looked very much like her, though only her blonde hair was visible. When did she even take this photo?

 

She quit camping at her Twitter and switched to binge watching her YouTube videos. It was amazing how she had travel vlogs from Tokyo to London to New York, knowing how terrified she was of getting on an airplane. It must’ve been an ordeal for her as the girl never seemed to stay in one place, always moving from one country to another. Minjeong wondered if there was a reason and if yes, then why. Travelling all over the world while being scared of flying at the same time sounded like torture. Minjeong would never do it if she was her.

 

There were also Jimin’s song covers, which were of a different level. She was probably up there in the godly tier with her multiple talents in music that extended from singing to rapping and Minjeong was astonished to find dance videos and was even more stupefied upon seeing that she was good good. Was there even something this girl couldn’t do?

 

She was in the middle of watching Jimin in all her summer dress glory tour the city of Cairo when a call filled her entire screen, ringtone replacing Busker Girl’s pleasant monologue about camels.

 

Minjeong answered the call without hesitation, “You called. Is the world ending?”

 

“Please. You talk as if I never call.”

 

“Be honest. You and Aeri have a schedule for calling me, right? She called just a few hours ago.”

 

“Pft. You’re not that special.”

 

“A phone call from the Nation’s Diva, Ning Yizhuo. I’m honored you spared me some of your precious time.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

Minjeong chuckled, shoving more Pringles into , “No schedule?”

 

“Nope. Guess who can’t make a comeback because someone couldn’t produce a single decent song.”

 

“Gee, I wonder who.”

 

“How’s that going for you, by the way?”

 

Minjeong glanced at the clutter on her floor; laptop, wires, guitar, crumpled papers strewn all over the carpet. “Bad.” she summed up, chewing obnoxiously.

 

“Aeri-unnie told me you’re in Paris now.” Yizhuo said, “Still no progress?”

 

“Hmm,” Minjeong skimmed through her files and made a face, “No.”

 

“Really? I also heard you got yourself a Paris Bestie. You sure you haven’t produced anything there?”

 

Minjeong’s eyes went to her unfinished work, minimizing the program as though it would stop Yizhuo from reading her mind. “Aeri-unnie talks too much.”

 

“She didn’t tell me all the details though.”

 

“Ugh, here we go again.” Minjeong grumbled before telling Yizhuo everything that happened from the Jubilee Gardens to the airport, the pretty busker who sent her a smile that got her running away only to meet her again the next day and finally having a conversation which ended without knowing each other’s names (and Minjeong getting friend-zoned). Then she’s running away again, to the extent of moving to another country, only to get caught mid-air and offered with the most astounding proposal.

 

“No way.” Was Yizhuo’s immediate reaction which got Minjeong frowning.

 

“What do you mean ‘no way’?”

 

“Are you sure you met the Yoo Jimin? Not just someone who looked like her?”

 

“What?”

 

“I mean, dude!” Yizhuo’s voice was starting to get high pitched, the way it did whenever she got excited, “Internet personality Yoo Jimin? Are you insane?”

 

Minjeong was still very confused. “Yes, I checked as soon as I got here. It was her.”

 

“Oh my god, do it!” Was Yizhuo’s immediate advice and it had Minjeong rolling her eyes. Aeri had reacted the same way when she told her. She’s had enough of nosy best friends telling her what to do.

 

“Why should I?”

 

“Because I need pictures or else it didn’t happen.”

 

“What?”

 

“I need photo proofs! Come on! And an autograph! I’m a huge fan, unnie. Don’t ruin this for me.”

 

Minjeong snorted, “You’re ridiculous.”

 

“Going with her is your best bet. It’s highly likely you’ll get lost there on your own and her offer’s great. Jimin-unnie knows Paris like the back of her hand. Plus, she’s a good person. You’ll be fine.”

 

Minjeong frowned, “You sound like you know her on a personal level.”

 

“That’s because I do, stupid.” Yizhuo said, “I’ve watched all of her videos.”

 

“Yizhuo, that’s nowhere near personal.”

 

“You can’t tell me how I feel.” Yizhuo retorted, “I need you to at least get her autograph, unnie. Oh! Oh! How did she smell like? I bet she smelled good!”

 

Minjeong pinched the bridge of her nose, though it was true. Yoo Jimin smelled good. “You’re acting like one of your creepy stalkers.”

 

“I am not a creepy stalker.” there were noises in the background, calling her name, “Unnie, I have to go. Call her, okay? Do it for me, Paris Bestie!”

 

“No. And don’t call me that,” Minjeong said, only to be responded to by toot toot toot. Huffing, she rolled around in her sheets. She was not liking this. Jimin had proven to be a safe person, even vouched for by both of her best friends. She was running out of excuses to decline the offer.

 

She stared at the edge of her bed where she had accidentally kicked her wallet which contained a certain crumpled calling card.

 

“Be sure to call me, okay?”

 

“Nah,” she muttered, kicking it again so it sailed down to the floor with a muted thud.

 

Minjeong lay there, unmoving with her face buried in her pillows. She should just return to Korea at this point. Going to Europe just made her jetlagged and extra lazy. She had been nothing but productive during the entirety of her stay. She should just go home.

 

Before she could tell Aeri about it, her stomach grumbled, apparently realizing that it couldn’t sustain itself with just snacks. Groaning, Minjeong glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It’s already 1 AM.

 

She considered calling for room service but she was getting sick of it since it was the only food she had since she arrived, too wary to go out and take the risk of coincidentally bumping into Busker Girl who had the superpowers of a mushroom to pop out of nowhere.

 

Pulling a hoodie on and snatching her wallet from the carpeted floor, she walked out of the hotel for the first time in two days. It was already late anyway. There’s no way they’d meet again, right? Paris was a big city. Then again, London was a big city too. But the odds were on her side. It had always been on her side. Nonetheless, she still warily treaded the streets, putting her hood on and walking like a wanted criminal as if Jimin might jump out of that random alley like a stray cat or something.

 

She entered the first 24/7 fast food joint she could find. Having junk at this hour (or any other hour) wasn’t probably the healthiest but her body’s been craving for that greasy cheeseburger and fries and sparkly soda goodness that luxurious hotel food could never hit right.

 

The place was empty, as expected, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. Yes. Even destiny won’t be that cruel--

 

“Hi, can I have a croque mcdo for dine in, please?”

 

Minjeong froze, turning ever so slightly to her right and there she was, in sweats with her dark hair pulled up in a bun. Damn, Yoo Jimin must have been a mushroom in her past life. How the hell was she there? At this hour? Minjeong’s more than freaked out at this point.

 

“Here’s your order, ma’am.”

 

Minjeong stared at the tray presented before her, mind and heart racing. “Sorry, can I have it to go instead?” she told the cashier, lowering her voice so the girl next to her won’t overhear and recognize her.

 

“Of course.”

 

Waiting for her order to be prepared had never felt this long. She restlessly tapped on the counter, itching to get out of there. It only took less than five minutes but it felt like eternity.

 

As soon as she got the bag, she muttered her thanks and basically just ran out of there without looking back. She’s never going out of her hotel room again. And she’s booking that flight to Seoul as soon as possible.

 

Maybe she should visit a shaman. There must be some serious bad luck going on with her.

 

***

 

There were no flights for Seoul.

 

All of them were cancelled due to a storm and Minjeong could only pull her hair out and scream into her pillow in exasperation. If the hotel’s ad was accurate, her walls must be sound proof so she had all the freedom to let out her frustration. If not, then a neighbor should yell right back at her. In the last fifteen minutes, there had been no complaints so she extended her tantrum to twenty.

 

This wasn’t destiny anymore. No, ma’am, this felt more like...something of a higher power forcing things to happen. Minjeong felt like someone trying to cheat death. She won’t let herself die though. She could still hide in her hotel room until the hurricane disappears. Or she could move to another country. Czech, perhaps. Or maybe Switzerland. It was sounding more and more as though she was a criminal on the run.

 

Staying indoors was also taking a toll on her sanity. Maybe that’s what she needed, the sacrifice she had to make to produce the album of the year. Mozart, Shostakovich, Satie--they were all a little bit crazy, at some point.

 

Her paranoia was understandable though. After running into Yoo Jimin at Mcdonald’s, she spotted her again the following day when she impulsively went to visit that interesting coffee shop she discovered on the internet. After that, Minjeong was convinced she was cursed. Yoo Jimin could materialize into her hotel room and she won’t even question it, though she would definitely pass out from shock after freaking out.

 

“Oh my god, Kim Minjeong. Are you seriously planning to lock yourself up in there?” Aeri scolded from Minjeong’s nightstand.

 

“Actually,” she said, “I’m touring the streets of Paris right now.”

 

“No way.”

 

“Yes way. Google Maps is amazing. Whoever came up with this street view feature deserves a raise.”

 

The line went quiet. “You can literally step out of your room and experience that yourself.”

 

“That would mean unnecessary interaction with strangers and exposure to fine dust.” Minjeong pointed out.

 

Aeri clicked her tongue. “You and your excuses. Are you that afraid of Yoo Jimin?”

 

“Afraid?!” Minjeong exclaimed, an outraged scoff escaping her lips. “No, I’m not.”

 

“If you’re not, then why are you running away and hiding in your hotel room instead of being out and about?”

 

“I told you. Unnecessary intera--”

 

“We both know that’s bull.” Aeri’s serious tone made her stop and glance at her phone. “Try going out again just one last time, Minjeong. Just once. If you run into her again, you can hide there until there are available flights to Seoul.”

 

“...really?”

 

“I know what you’re doing, Minjeong. And I know you know as well.” Aeri’s voice softened, “Avoid what you must.”

 

Minjeong chuckled, closing her Google Maps tab. “Even without the songs?”

 

“Songs can easily be made. Hearts? Not really.”

 

Minjeong got up to her feet to peer outside her window. The streets were busy, asphalt glistening from the rain that just stopped. People rushed along sidewalks in multicolored coats and umbrellas. It’s a pretty city. Makes her wanna break into a song, little town filled with little people, coming out to say...

 

“It’s not like that.” She said after a period of silence, voice soft.

 

“Yeah? Then what is it?”

 

She stared at the cityscape before stepping back. “It’s not like that.” she repeated, this time firmer. She grabbed her coat, putting it on. “I’m going out.”

 

“What? Where are you going?”

 

“Out.” She repeated, not knowing where exactly but she knew she had to prove to Aeri, Yizhuo, anyone, and especially to herself that she wasn’t afraid at all. There was nothing to be afraid of. That’s just silly. She stepped out of her hotel room.

 

Bonjour, es.

 

Google Maps wasn’t that far off, except that in reality, everything was moving at a fast, fast pace. Minjeong wandered aimlessly, taking her sweet time gaping at everything and taking pictures like the real tourist that she was. She already toured the entire Paris in Google Maps. She got this.

 

Elegant. Historic. Stylish. Paris was a city of grandeur. It was a place that shouldn't be described. It should be felt. She could walk around forever and fail to find a space that wasn’t beautiful. She suddenly felt contrite for being so disrespectful, wanting to leave before even getting to see everything it could offer.

 

She maneuvered her way around the narrow streets with both locals and tourists, the former striding with destination and purpose and the latter moony eyed and eager to see everything in a couple of days. She briefly wondered if she categorized in one of the two. Probably in the category of lost tourist who was in an inner turmoil. Or simply, constipated.

 

There were art galleries and cafes and bars but Minjeong didn’t feel like stopping. She didn’t have a certain destination but somehow, she knew it wasn’t in one of those ivory buildings. Her feet brought her to the Seine, attracted to the cool breeze. The river reflected the sunset in shimmering hues.

 

Minjeong strolled along its banks and walked up to the middle of the Pont des Art, enjoying the sound of flowing water. She stopped to take photos, sending them to Aeri and Yizhuo for proof that yes, she was out and about and no, she’s not scared of anything or anyone at all.

 

Speaking of which, she took the crumpled calling card from her wallet and held it out, squinting at the name ‘Yoo Jimin’ along with the string of numbers that came along with it. Just one finger. She just had to lift one finger and this piece of paper would fly and sink in the Seine and the devil will finally be defeated.

 

“You shouldn’t litter.”

 

Minjeong was so surprised she almost dropped the card. Almost, because her hand automatically gripped it tight like a lifeline, crumpling the paper even more.

 

“I knew it was you. Hi, there, Miss Winter.” Yoo Jimin stood there, a familiar face in the sea of strangers. She approached her, the soft breeze blowing her dark hair and the setting sun’s warm orange glow setting golden on her skin.

 

Minjeong faced her, frowning as she tried to hide the fact that she’s struggling not to run, “Do you seriously just pop out of nowhere?”

 

Yoo Jimin laughed and it felt unreal. The last time Minjeong witnessed this was through her phone screen. “Teleportation has been something I’m trying to perfect, yes. What’s that you’re trying to throw?”

 

“Nothing.” Minjeong hid her hands behind her back, heart racing anxiously as she desperately prayed, , , , , fu--

 

“Yeah? I was pretty sure you were holding a piece of paper or something though.” Jimin stopped beside her, leaning against the barren railing of the bridge that once held countless lovelocks of hopeful lovers. “You haven’t called.”

 

Minjeong swallowed. She did know it was her calling card she’s trying to get rid of. “I…”

 

“It’s okay.” Jimin tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, still gazing into the horizon. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you know. No pressure.”

 

No pressure, she said. But Minjeong felt very, very pressured right now. She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to find words to say only to heave out a sigh. “Maybe next time.” she ended up saying.

 

“There’s a lot of next time with you. I can bump into you at rue de La Huchette and I won’t even be surprised anymore.” Jimin gave her a sideway grin and it was beautiful yet melancholic, much like this city. “Just...don’t say things you don’t mean.”

 

Minjeong opened to say it’s not like that only to abruptly close it again because it was exactly like that.

 

“Until next time, pretty girl in red flannel,” Jimin gave her one last smile before walking away.

 

Okay, so maybe she was scared. Just a tiny, inkling of fear right there in her guts. It was irrational. There’s nothing wrong with traveling with a friend and if she truly feared nothing, she’d have no problem doing it at all.

 

It’s because she had something to prove. To Aeri. To Yizhuo. To herself.

 

She wordlessly took her phone out and punched in a set of numbers she had stared at so much in her free time that it had inadvertently etched itself in her brain and hit the dial button.

 

From a distance, a jolly marimba pierced through white noise, making its owner stop. Minjeong watched her fish her phone from her pocket and heard the eventual, “Hello?”

 

“Hi.”

 

“Who..?”

 

“You said I should call in case my answer is yes, right?”

 

She could see Jimin straighten up before turning, meeting her gaze, “Minjeong?”

 

“Well, this is that call.” Minjeong said, throwing all caution to the air. There’s no turning back now. “Yoo Jimin, can I still be your Paris Bestie?”

 

Aeri and Yizhuo are not going to shut up about this. But she can worry about that later. Right now, Jimin’s nonplussed expression was visible even from where Minjeong was standing. “But I thought you said next time…”

 

She shrugged, “Next time doesn’t always mean tomorrow or the day after. Sometimes, it can be, like, I don’t know, fifteen seconds later?”

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“I never say anything I don’t mean. Just so you know.”

 

“What happened to thinking I’m a serial killer?”

 

“I still have my doubts, yes.” Minjeong admitted, earning protests from Jimin. “But I’ve come to a conclusion that if you stab me in my sleep, I can always just stab you back and call it quits.”

 

Jimin giggled unsurely at her remark, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching. Minjeong makes a mental screenshot of the moment, finding the view pretty.

 

“I hope that was a joke.”

 

“Depends.”

 

“You only say weird things, you know that?”

 

“I have insurance. Do you?”

 

“I do.” Jimin replied in between chuckles.

 

“Then what’s it gonna be? Can I still be your Paris Bestie?” Minjeong asked again, feeling a bit nervous because she did not plan this. Hell, the plan was to get on the plane to Seoul at the soonest available time. Not to stand in Pont des Arts--which she’s now belatedly realizing was also called the bridge of love (a bad omen, a very bad omen)--and ask over the phone like a corny chick flick if she could be someone’s bestie. Bestie, of all things.

 

What had she become?

 

It’s not like that, she repeatedly told herself, It’s not like that.

 

“Send me your address. I’ll pick you up tomorrow, Paris Bestie.”

 

***

 

“So you’re not going back to Seoul anymore?” Aeri asked, surprised by her friend’s sudden change of heart.

 

“Not until my leave ends, yes.”

 

“Isn’t that in five days?”

 

“Mm-hmm.” Minjeong answered, checking herself out in the mirror. Should she tie her hair up? Yes? No? Does it matter? Huffing, she ultimately let go of the blonde locks and gave up on trying to look pretty because it was pointless. Okay, so she looked good. For what? For nothing. Exactly.

 

“I can’t believe you agreed to getting Yoo Jimin as your personal tour guide.” Aeri said.

 

“Hey, she’s making the right choices,” Yizhuo butted in. “Get me that autograph, unnie! And a proof photo! Or else I’m not going to believe it’s legit.”

 

Minjeong rolled her eyes, making a noncommittal sound in response. “I can’t believe you’re having movie night without me.” she sulked, tying her Converse.

 

“Well, what can we do? You’re literally on the other side of the world.” Aeri replied and the crunch of the popcorn she was eating could be heard loud and clear.

 

“We’re watching American Sniper for an entire month when I get back.” Minjeong demanded. They started to protest so she quickly added, “Otherwise, no one’s getting their mandatory Eiffel Tower fridge magnet.”

 

Aeri gasped, “Unacceptable.”

 

“Where are you headed today?” Yizhuo asked.

 

“No idea. She told me it’s a surprise. Please pray I don’t get abducted or anything.” her phone beeped, “Hey, I have to go. My driver’s calling. I’ll call you back later.” she ended the call to answer another, “Are you here yet?”

 

“Good morning to you as well, bestie. I bought breakfast. I hope you don’t mind a simple croissant and coffee.”

 

Minjeong was already rolling her eyes, first thing in the morning. “That’s nice, so are you here yet?”

 

“Gee, in a rush, aren’t we? Yes, I’m right outside your hotel now, ma’am.”

 

“Okay, I’m heading out now.”

 

When Yoo Jimin told her she’d pick her up, Minjeong did not expect her to roll up looking all chic while leaning against a sleek Hyundai Tucson parked right outside the hotel doors. She wondered if that was even allowed, but staff and security were just giving Jimin glances--once, twice, and then ended up staring--and Minjeong could only scoff at the obvious pretty people privilege.

 

“What are you, a car model?”

 

Jimin looked up, eyes gleaming when they met hers. “Oh, hi! Was that question serious because I kind of am a car model.”

 

Minjeong scoffed, looking away to ignore the fact that this human being was built way above average. “Well, news flash, modelist: from now on, you’re my chauffeur.”

 

“Well, news flash for you as well: from now on, you’re my camerawoman.”

 

Minjeong’s rolling her eyes again, “Just get in the car.”

 

“Pft, sore loser.” Jimin chuckled and may have tried to smoothly walk around the vehicle to open the door for her only to stub her foot on one of the wheels and ended up crouching in pain, “Ouch!”

 

“I should have caught that on camera.” Minjeong snickered, easily passing by and opening the door herself. Jimin might give off all that charismatic vibe but boy was she clumsy. She glanced at the girl who was checking her offended foot. “Aren’t you cold?” she asked, eyeing the exposed midriff.

 

Jimin gave her a sheepish smile, “I am, actually.”

 

Minjeong clicked her tongue, taking off her flannel overshirt (this time a pink and grey one) and handing it to the brunette before slamming the door shut.

 

Cameras were all over the car, not too different from ones in shows Minjeong had seen Yizhuo guest on. Jimin soon got into the driver’s seat, wearing her flannel, and handed her a bag.

 

“Okay, so vlogging crash course! This is the camera you’re going to use. These are extra batteries. Those are for back up.” She gestured vaguely at the backseat, though all Minjeong could see were bags.

 

“What’s that?” Minjeong asked, attention caught by a weird looking robotic contraption of some sort lying on the floor behind.

 

“A gorillapod. It’s a tripod. But--”

 

“But a gorilla?”

 

Jimin snorted, “Yes. But a gorilla.”

 

“What about that?”

 

“This? Oh, it’s a microphone.”

 

“And that?”

 

“That, Minjeong, would be your breakfast. Which I believe you really need right now. So dig in.”

 

The warm paperbag placed on her lap shut Minjeong up. Food always will.

 

They have agreed that Jimin would be touring her around Paris, showing her the best way to enjoy the city of lights but Minjeong would have to be her videographer in return. It wasn’t a bad deal since all she had to do was hold the camera and film the brunette. Jimin had insisted on helping her with hook-ups too (Minjeong couldn’t believe she still remembered that) but she refused to hear it, offended that the girl would assume that she needed help in that department.

 

Jimin started driving while she ate, talking to the camera on the dashboard. “Today is going to be our day 1 in Paris. Actually, it’s already my day 5 but the tour is only starting now because I haven’t been able to make travel content because I’ve been waiting for...a certain someone to call.” A meaningful glance was cast Minjeong’s way, almost making her choke on her croissant. “Anyway, I finally got the call and she’s with me right now. Hear that obnoxious loud munching? That’s her--ouch, stop that, I’m driving!”

 

Minjeong snorted, “Please. I just poked your side drama queen.”

 

“It was still ticklish.” Jimin retorted before switching back to a nicer tone, “So yeah. Welcome to Paris! This is going to be fun.”

 

“You’ve always done this alone?” Minjeong asked when Jimin appeared to be done with her conversation with the camera.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Can I ask why?”

 

Jimin shrugged, “It’s easier to be alone.”

 

The food suddenly didn’t taste that good and her drink left a bitter taste in . What the heck was she doing in that car then, if Jimin preferred being on her own? See, she really shouldn’t have agreed--

 

“But I’m relieved you chose to accompany me. You being here makes the trip better.” A grateful smile was sent her way, “Thank you.”

 

Oh.

 

Okay.

 

She continued eating and even offered Jimin some, appeased.

 

Their first stop was the famous Notre Dame cathedral at Île de la Cité. From the heart of Paris, its glorious towers rose up to the heavens. Minjeong knew nothing much about architecture but anybody with eyes would be in awe at the sheer artistry of the majestic building. It was amazing how there were so many to see--from statues to carvings to arches, and pretty glass windows. It was everything at once, yet it felt right. Somehow, Minjeong felt a connection. Contrasting yet harmonious--a chaotic good. Just like her. Why didn’t she visit this place before?

 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

 

Minjeong almost jumped at the voice right next to her ear. Jimin had been standing just behind her, chest almost touching her back, and she didn’t even notice. “It’s more than beautiful.”

 

“I told you so. You were missing out on so much.”

 

Minjeong turned and saw the brunette’s smug, self-satisfied smile as if she built the cathedral herself. She’s right though. Smiling as she shook her head, Minjeong acquiesced, “Yeah, whatever.”

 

After setting the camera up, she started taking a video of the place as best as she could to give Notre Dame and its intricate, detailed craftsmanship justice.

 

“You’re better at this than I expected.” Jimin commented, looking over her shoulder.

 

“Yeah, well, I’ve done similar stuff for a celebrity friend before.” Minjeong slowly turned around, attempting to capture a 360 only to stop when Jimin centered the frame, focusing on her instead because wow, she’s pretty.

 

“Which friend?”

 

“Ever heard of Ningning?”

 

“Oh my god, of course! Who hasn't?” Jimin gushed. “You didn’t tell me you guys are friends! Get me her autograph! Pretty please?”

 

Minjeong could only roll her eyes. If only they both knew. She wondered what would happen if they met each other. “Maybe if I’m satisfied with your surprise itinerary.”

 

“Oh, you’re on.”

 

Jimin eventually started filming with her own camera and resumed talking to it again. Minjeong assumed she needed two for angle or something. They also always have too many cameras in that reality show Yizhuo was on anyway. Must be a celebrity thing.

 

“...at the heart of Paris itself, Île de la Cité.” Jimin was saying, “Today, I will be your personal guide as I virtually tour you around our first stop: Notre-Dame de Paris.” she turned the camera over, capturing the cathedral, “If you look closely, you can see the statue of Mary with the rose window forming a halo over her head. Super cool. Now, over here,” she suddenly panned the camera, aiming at the unsuspecting Minjeong. “Is an angel who descended from heaven to grace us with her presence. Say hi, Paris Bestie!”

 

Minjeong covered her face. “What the ?”

 

“Now, now, angels aren’t supposed to say bad words.” Jimin chided, laughing as she shoved the camera to Minjeong’s face while trying to push her hand aside.

 

Minjeong swatted the camera away, “What is the matter with you?”

 

“Come on, say a few words about my tour so far. Don’t be shy.”

 

“It’s great but why are you so annoying?”

 

“Thank you! I just got a five-star review everyone.” Jimin turned to Minjeong, “I can edit this out, don’t worry.”

 

Minjeong huffed, “You already posted a picture of me on Twitter.”

 

Jimin gasped, scandalized, “Excuse me, I was taking a picture of the window. You just happened to sit next to it!”

 

“Yeah, right.”

 

“No, seriously!”

 

After arguing a bit longer, Jimin resumed spouting facts about the Notre Dame and Minjeong continued filming her, focus unconsciously tunneling to the brunette and her interesting voice and whatever the she was trying to say about those arches as she tried to push her hair that was being blown by the wind aside and it should be illegal for such a simple gesture to look so attractive.

 

Her heart was thrumming and Minjeong realized she was actually having fun. She hummed a random tune, smiling when Jimin smiles and grinning when she laughs. She couldn’t really understand what she’s talking about but it was the only way to pretend she was actually listening and not just shamelessly staring.

 

“...try it.”

 

Minjeong blinked, realizing Jimin was talking to her, “What?”

 

The brunette rolled her eyes and went to pull her back herself, “I said, step back and look at the exterior of the rose window.”

 

“Uhh, okay?”

 

“If you look closely you’ll see statuaries of Adam and Eve on the outer rim.”

 

“Okay?”

 

Jimin hit her arm, “At least show some appreciation!”

 

“Wait, is that Quasimodo’s tower? Think he’ll let down his ha--hey, where are you going? Wait for me!”

 

They entered the cathedral and Minjeong was once again enthralled by its beauty. Notre Dame de Paris was just as stunning inside as it was outside. The cathedral’s long halls, vaulted ceilings, and soft light filtered through intricate stained glass made Minjeong feel as though she’s walking in a dream. There wasn’t any access to the upper levels, leaving them earthbound, gazing upward. The experience was breathtaking and Minjeong got too engrossed at trying to film everything that she didn’t realize she lost Jimin in the crowd until she looked for her and didn’t find her there.

 

Getting lost was something she’s used to. She didn’t have a problem with that. But in this big space with so many people, it felt different. Her eyes frantically darted around, looking for that certain shade of brown and there she was, turning and instantly meeting her eyes and a look of apparent relief settling on her features. Minjeong watched as Jimin squeezed her way through with excuse me’s and sorry’s, everything else blurred out.

 

“There you are.” Jimin breathed out once she reached her. “Come on.” she grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers to make sure Minjeong doesn’t disappear again.

 

Minjeong didn’t know how to feel about that but her heart went ahead and started playing a certain beat. She immediately put a stop to it, even as she made a mental note to write the melody down later. She was just a Paris Bestie. Meaning, a friend in Paris. Everything would be over after five days. And a friend wasn’t supposed to be developing feelings, as tiny as they were.

 

She shook her head, forcing such thoughts aside.

 

After touring the cathedral--talking about its history, gaping at the three iconic stained-glass rose windows, making fun of Jimin by comparing her to statues, consider stealing a crown from the treasury near the rear, and taking photos of each other--they headed to Au Vieux Paris d’Arcole for lunch.

 

Jimin suggested visiting the Sainte-Chapelle first but Minjeong started whining about how all the walking had made her hungry and the croissant Jimin got her for breakfast already got digested after thirty minutes and the soles of her foot was in pain, saying that she’d have to chop them off when the day’s over. Rolling her eyes at her overdramatic , Jimin had no choice but to lead her to the nearest cafe that the brunette called, ‘one of Paris’s well-kept secrets’.

 

It was on a street called Rue Chanoinesse which had Minjeong’s jaw hanging agape. How could a mere street look so gorgeous? She felt like walking through the pages of a history book, each step transporting her back to medieval Paris. Now she really wanted to burst out singing bonjour.

 

“This cafe was constructed in the 15th century,” Jimin was saying as they neared. There’s a large plant creeping along its walls which Jimin identified as wisteria, “The best cafe in Paris, in my opinion.”

 

“Around the time the cathedral was completed then?” Minjeong supplied.

 

Jimin gave her an impressed glance, “You know your history well.”

 

Minjeong huffed, “I’m not as dumb as I seem.”

 

Inside, it was surprisingly fancy yet cosy with its dim lighting, cushy seats, framed paintings, and extravagant cutlery. It wasn’t as crowded as Minjeong expected so they easily occupied a good corner table and she was finally able to sit, much to her relief.

 

“So you’re really here for a vacation?” Jimin asked while they waited for their food to arrive which Minjeong had bravely ordered with a terrible yet confident attempt at doing a French accent (she had always wanted to clown around like that) which got Jimin snickering resulting in getting her shin kicked under the table.

 

“Well,” Minjeong wrinkled her nose, “You can say that.”

 

Jimin hummed. “How’s songwriting going?”

 

‘Bad’ was always Minjeong’s automatic reply to that question. But with Jimin, she considered saying the truth. “There’s one song I managed to write.” she admitted, keeping her eyes on the ice cubes floating on her glass. “A small progress. But a progress nonetheless.”

 

Jimin eagerly leaned forward. “Can I hear it?” she pleaded, brows upturned, “Please?”

 

Minjeong looked away, “No.”

 

“Aww, why not?”

 

“...I’ll let you listen when it’s finished.”

 

Jimin grinned in victory, “Promise?”

 

“Promise.”

 

The food arrived and it was simply the best Minjeong had ever tasted in that city--not that she had anything other than hotel food and fast food. The sea bass meunière was probably her favorite. Unlike her, Jimin wasn’t digging in with as much gusto, just sitting there calmly munching while watching her inhale everything on the table.

 

“I don’t have much of an appetite these days,” she said, shrugging when Minjeong asked her about it.

 

“You travel too much,” Minjeong said, popping a steamed potato in , “Does every cuisine sit well on your palate?”

 

“Of course not,” Jimin answered, “Sometimes I crave for Korean. But it’s different eating it in another country compared to eating it in Seoul.”

 

Minjeong hummed, wondering what it must be like. “When was the last time you’ve been to Korea anyway? I didn’t see you posting videos from there.”

 

Jimin shrugged again, now pushing her pasta around with her fork, “Around four, five years?”

 

Minjeong leaned back. That long? She took a sip of water, peering at Jimin over the rim of her glass. “...mind if I ask why?” she asked, tentatively.

 

Jimin shot her a dry smile, never missing a beat. “I just don’t feel like going back.”

 

Their eyes locked, gazes conversing, “Never will?”

 

A firm nod, “Never will.”

 

“Alright.” Minjeong let it go. It wasn’t her business to poke her nose into and Jimin could tell her if she wanted. But there was definitely something that haunted her in Seoul.

 

Whatever it was, Minjeong wanted it gone.

 

After lunch, they finally headed to Sainte-Chapelle. They took the car, much to Minjeong’s feet’s delight. As pretty as the streets of Île de la Cité were, Minjeong would still rather see it while sitting pretty on a comfortable car seat.

 

Outside, Saint-Chapelle looked like a solemn castle with its soaring towers and tall windows. But once they stepped inside, it was a kaleidoscope of colors.Enormous glass walls made of stained glass greeted them the moment they entered along with its intricate vaults. It was like being inside a jewel box.

 

“Sainte-Chapelle has more than a thousand different windows,” Jimin was saying both to the camera and to Minjeong, voice hushed as though in reverence as they continued to look around, “I can’t remember how many exactly but yeah, it’s around that number.”

 

“This is so cool.” Minjeong said, checking out a colorful scene that showed the second plague in Egypt. “How was this even made?”

 

“Fun fact: nobody knows exactly how or when this was created.”

 

Minjeong whistled, “Why do catholics have so many cool buildings?”

 

“I personally think Ancient Egyptians were cooler. Plus, they worshipped cats. Mood.” Jimin said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the next window and started to talk about how it depicted the end of the world only for Minjeong to find out she’s been cheating by secretly listening to an audio guide with her AirPods. Talk about top 10 anime betrayals.

 

After spending a couple of hours trying to look for every single one of those one thousand plus windows, they finally headed out. Minjeong enjoyed Sainte-Chapelle. Both because of the magnificent glasses and Jimin’s hand holding hers, she’s not going to lie.

 

“Where to next?” Minjeong asked as they walked back to the car.

 

Jimin opened the trunk, revealing a small assortment of sound system, and grinned at her, “What’s a tour with Yoo Jimin without a little street performance, yeah?”

 

And that’s when Minjeong found herself cradling a guitar while sitting on a speaker in the middle of Palais de la Cité’s courtyard, increasingly feeling awkward as more seconds ticked by with strangers passing left, right, front, and back.

 

“...why am I doing this again?”

 

Jimin rolled her eyes, “You already asked that question, like, four times.”

 

“Remind me again, please.”

 

“I don’t know the chords to some of these songs.”

 

“Then what about this microphone? I thought I was only going to be your camerawoman.”

 

Jimin snorted, “You didn’t think I’d exploit being with my favorite songwriter in any way possible?”

 

Minjeong gaped at her. She, in fact, did not think that.

 

“Come on, people are waiting.”

 

Minjeong let her do all the talking and singing, pointedly ignoring the microphone propped right in front of her lips. Jimin started the set with Parisian songs which Minjeong honestly didn’t know and had no choice but to improvise and guess her way around the chords, earning an impressed grin from Jimin but Minjeong wasn’t amused. this, she did not know the chords to these songs.

 

But the brunette sounded good, as usual, and Minjeong was starting to like the thrill, though she wouldn’t admit it aloud. She slowly started getting brave as she got used to the crowd that had gathered around them and enjoying their music, getting playful with her strumming and subtly bobbing her head along with the songs while making a mental note to ask Jimin for song titles later. They were such a bop. But her favorite moments were probably each time Jimin would glance at her and their eyes would meet, a connection between two people and music. Minjeong had never felt so alive.

 

Jimin then sang Lauv’s Paris in the Rain and that’s when Minjeong joined in, harmonizing. They were great together, and one look in Jimin’s twinkling eyes said she obviously thought the same.

 

‘Cause anywhere with you feels right

Anywhere with you feels like

Paris in the rain

Paris in the rain

 

And as they closed the song, eyes locked and voices in perfect harmony with the sunset casting a pinkish purple hue over everything, Minjeong finally admitted to herself that having a friend like her was nice. Yoo Jimin being her Paris Bestie wasn’t so bad after all, though it did involve information dumps that she didn’t ask for and playful hits that actually hurt, she couldn’t imagine spending Paris any other way.

 

Jimin sent her a random sideway grin and Minjeong could only look up and face the sky, uttering a quiet prayer to the patrons of Sainte-Chapelle.

 

So help me God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

chapter 2 songs for context

Belle from Beauty and the Beast OST

Moi c'est by Camélia Jordana

Hymne à L'Amour by Édith Piaf

Paris in the Rain by Lauv