“You’re telling me, that you randomly met Winter--and I emphasize, the Winter--and started going around Paris with her for two days and didn’t even think to tell me?”

 

Jimin paused in applying her lipstick, wincing at her friend’s loud voice. “Um...yes?”

 

“Preposterous!” Yeji exclaimed, “Quick! Tell me about it!”

 

Jimin chuckled at her friend’s quick change in tone before fondly recounting what had transpired in the past few days: how they met, Minjeong comforting her on the plane, meeting her again at Pons des Arts, singing with Minjeong, eating with Minjeong, “...and she has the most ridiculous French accent, I totally cannot with her.”

 

“Yoo Jimin.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I said tell me about your trip. Not about how you’re an absolute goner for her.”

 

Jimin’s ears turned hot. “I did tell you about the trip!”

 

Yeji snorted, “Right. Well, you sure sound...excited. I’m not used to it. I don’t think I’ve heard you this thrilled before.” she pointed out.

 

“Do I?” Jimin asked, “I’m probably just fangirling. She’s one of my favorite songwriters after all.”

 

“Maybe.” Yeji sounded as though she wanted to say more but decided not to. “That’s kinda crazy though. The number of times you ran into each other is insane, it’s almost creepy. You sure you didn’t follow her around?”

 

Jimin gasped, hand dramatically Jimin laughed, to her chest, “Are you accusing me of being a stalker?”

 

“With how you’ve been rambling about her nonstop, I honestly wouldn’t put it past you.” Yeji said, “You said you brought her to that coffee shop I can’t pronounce the name of?”

 

“Au Vieux Paris d’Arcole, yes.”

 

“Also, that museum at Montemartre? Sunrise at Trocadero? Sunset at Delicieux? A.K.A your secret places that you don’t even show me, your friend who’s gone through hell and back with you? Yoo Jimin, are you sure you’re not forgetting to tell me something?”

 

Jimin frowned at her phone, “Like what?”

 

Yeji sighed, “Nevermind. I doubt you’re even aware.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’ll figure it out sooner or later, but with how notoriously dense you are, I’m placing my bet on the latter.”

 

“Hwang Yeji, I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

 

“Of course you don’t.” Yeji laughed.

 

Jimin rolled her eyes. Yeji and her cryptic talk. “Whatever. So how are things going on your end?”

 

“A lot less exciting than yours, for sure.” Yeji sighed, “Which reminds me. My break time’s almost over. I’ll call you again later, alright? If you can, maybe leak some of the new stuff Winter’s been working on--”

 

“Toot. Toot. Toot. Bye-bye Hwang.”

 

The call ended on that note, leaving Jimin with La Vie en Rose blasting in her rented car. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and checked her reflection for the nth time. She looked okay, but when the hell was Kim Minjeong planning to head down?

 

Jimin sighed. Maybe it was jet lag but Minjeong always wakes up late and because she had disturbed her too early yesterday, Jimin let the girl sleep in this time but even so, she still took forever getting ready. She had the suspicion that after answering Jimin’s call, Minjeong might’ve stayed in bed for another hour. She wouldn’t put it past her. Minjeong was someone who considered nine-freaking-thirty early, after all.

 

She grabbed her phone, opting to scroll through her gallery to pass time. A smile played on her lips as she swiped through photos, growing bigger as it transitioned from pretty scenery to candid photos of Minjeong. Minjeong in awe. Minjeong in sunrise. Minjeong frowning when she caught her taking photos. Minjeong laughing. Minjeong looking like bread. Minjeong pouting. Minjeong eating. And of course, Minjeong and her ever unchanging blank expression.

 

There was an awful amount of Minjeong photos in her camera roll. Jimin selected them one by one, putting them in a folder, and named it Paris Bestie ❤️.

 

She opted to talk to the camera instead, “Hey, guys. It’s now our 3rd day in Paris. Technically, it’s not my 3rd day but it is our 3rd day. Together. I mean--yeah, you get what I mean. I’m currently waiting for my Paris Bestie to come down from her tower.” She rolled her eyes, “She’s taking too long, I think she might’ve drowned in the shower or something. Since she’s not yet here, I can spoil y’all on our destination for today. Today, we’re headed to…” she imitated drum rolls, patting her lap, “None other than the grand Versailles! I’m sure Minjeong would love it. I mean, who wouldn't? I can’t wait to see her reaction. So stay tuned for that. And--oh.”

 

Her commentary was cut short when she spotted the blonde stepping out of the hotel. Her hair was down, bouncing as she made her way to Jimin’s car, denim dress softly blown by the wind. A fierce frown was set on her features, like she was angry at the world and all its inhabitants yet still managed to look cute it reminded Jimin of an angry maltese.

 

She rolled the window down before Minjeong could reach her. “Hey, you.” she called.

 

Their eyes locked and a bright smile bloomed on Minjeong’s face, like the sun shining through the clouds. Jimin in a breath and held it, heart skipping a beat as she watched Minjeong jog up to her, grin wide and cheeky, asking, “Did you bring me breakfast?”

 

Jimin let out the breath she was holding as she laughed. Food. Of course. “Yes, I did. Now, get in here. It’s cold outside.” she reached out to give Minjeong a boop, making the blonde wrinkle her nose.

 

She seemed ecstatic to have salmon tartine and coffee (Jimin did take notes) for breakfast--then again, she always looked so happy whenever she eats. After watching her for another few seconds, Jimin wrenched her eyes away and started driving off.

 

Only Lara Fabian’s Je t’aime from the speakers and the purr of the engine could be heard most of the drive with Minjeong busy with her phone (she didn’t even pest Jimin with questions about their destination), though she did ask every time they pass a random arch if it was the Arch de Triomphe which Jimin had to patiently reply with, Minjeong, not every arch is Arch de Triomphe.

 

“Jimin--”

 

“No, Minjeong. That’s not Arch de Triomphe either.”

 

Minjeong giggled, “That’s not what I was going to say. We didn’t even pass any arch, silly.”

 

“Oh.” Jimin glanced at her to catch a glimpse of that smile. “What is it then?”

 

“Jaehyun messaged me. You know, clapped purple hair? Jubilee Gardens?”

 

Jimin frowned. So that’s what she’s been so busy about. “Yeah?” She remembered him, alright. And she didn’t like him, for multiple reasons.

 

“Yeah. He apologized for not being able to show up that night--”

 

“As he should.”

 

“--and asked if he could treat me to another round of drinks to make up for it.”

 

Jimin hummed, hand squeezing and unsqueezing the steering wheel. “What did you say?” she asked when Minjeong didn’t continue.

 

“Well, I told him I’m in Paris now,” the blonde answered, a shrug in her tone. “He offered to show me around.”

 

Jimin couldn’t help but scoff. “Isn’t he busy or something?”

 

Minjeong chuckled, briefly patting her hand resting on the gear shift. Jimin clenched her fist at the touch.

 

“Don’t worry, your job as my tour guide isn’t in danger.” Minjeong continued, blissfully unaware of what her simple touch had caused. “I told him somebody’s already showing me around, and she’s doing a wonderful job so far.”

 

Jimin grinned, “She is, isn’t she?”

 

Minjeong rolled her eyes, “You’re so obnoxious.”

 

“You love me, anyway.”

 

Minjeong scoffed in reply.

 

The Palace of Versailles, home to the coveted Hall of Mirrors, is a gold-gilt, jewel-encrusted, velvet-lined showcase of opulent wealth in every sense of the word. So grand and rightful to be called a palace, but Jimin’s eyes were glued on Minjeong, watching the way her jaw hung as she gaped at the grandiose structure and captivated by the bright sparkles of child-like awe filling her eyes. Jimin’s heart was full just watching her and she couldn’t wait to show Minjeong more.

 

“This is beautiful.” Minjeong breathed out, “I feel like Blues Clues.”

 

Jimin did a double take. “What?”

 

“Like Blues Clues.” Minjeong repeated as though there’s nothing weird about that sentence and how it ruined the mood, “You know, like when they jump into a picture and stuff. That’s how I feel like right now. Like I’ve jumped into a fairytale.”

 

Oh, okay. That makes sense. She should’ve said that earlier. “What, so you’re a princess now?”

 

Minjeong’s eyes gleamed with mischief, “Hey, I like the sound of that. You should address me as ‘your grace’ from now on.”

 

“Isn’t it ‘your royal highness’?”

 

“Hey I watch Game of Thrones.”

 

Jimin snorted, “If you’re a princess then what am I?”

 

Minjeong thoughtfully hummed, lips pressed together and brows furrowed in thought. “My knight in shining armor?”

 

Jimin scoffed but didn’t protest. That didn’t sound too bad either. “Wanna go in?”

 

Minjeong gasped, “We can? Wait, the line’s too long--”

 

“Don’t worry,” Jimin took her hand, “Your knight in shining armor got it all covered, princess.”

 

They skipped the line, thanks to the online tickets Jimin had booked in advance. The palace interior was as regal and lavish as one could imagine. But as enormous as it was, it was crowded. Very crowded. It was impossible to take any good photos and it was one of the most frustrating places to photograph in all of Jimin’s travelling life. It wasn’t the most pleasant place to visit, but Jimin thought Minjeong might want to see the gleam and glitter. So endure the cramped area it is.

 

“Are there always so many people here?” Minjeong complained, struggling to get a proper photo of the hall.

 

“Even way back in the 17th century, yes.” Jimin replied, pulling Minjeong closer so she won’t bump into a random dude. “I did promise to bring you somewhere crowded today.”

 

Minjeong scoffed at that. “It’s easy to see why the French felt resentful of the privilege enjoyed by the aristocracy.” She commented as they maneuvered their way through throngs of tourists and their tour groups, giving the marble walls and gold everythings a contemptuous look. “Think I could sneak out one of those shiny things? There’s too many I don’t think they would notice.”

 

“That idea is tempting but I don’t want to be a wanted criminal just yet.”

 

“You think that’ll make us fugitives on the run? Sweet! That’s actually on my bucket list.”

 

Jimin pinched Minjeong’s side. “It’s hard to believe now but Versailles first began as a modest hunting lodge.” She launched into a sermon about the palace’s history as Louis XIII’s lodge to Louis XIV’s magnificent chateau. “It took fifty years of building work and tens of thousands of men to give this place its over-the-top luxury.”

 

She took Minjeong to different rooms: the King’s bedchambers, the King and Queen’s state apartments, the hall of mirrors, the grand gallery, and more. It was fun to watch different expressions dance on Minjeong’s usual poker face as Jimin explained what each room was for--from surprise to understanding to disapproval, Jimin was able to see it all.

 

“You mean to tell me,” Minjeong said as they looked around the antechamber of the grand couvert, “That the King and Queen were required to have their meals in public?”

 

Jimin laughed at her disgruntled expression, “Have I told you that the Queen giving birth was also a public event? Awkward.”

 

The palace wasn’t the highlight of Jimin’s Versailles tour, however. While many believe the golden gated palace to be the best attraction in the, well, palace, it’s actually the less frequented hamlet that caught Jimin’s eyes time and time again.

 

Le Petit Trianon had been a refuge from the crowds of Versailles for Marie Antoinette, and it served the same purpose for Jimin and Minjeong now, though Jimin always found the name ironic since every aspect of her small palace is in fact, larger than life and lavishly styled.

 

“Mood.” Minjeong commented when Jimin told her about the place’s history as they walked through the gardens of green topiaries and purple flowers, “If the palace had always been that crowded, I’d want to get away as well. Wonderful place to commit adultery too. Perfect.”

 

“Yeah? Well, she actually also allegedly had affairs here, in the privacy of her secluded mansion.” Jimin said, “But the affairs weren’t the only secret here.”

 

Minjeong blinked at her, “What do you mean?”

 

“Come on.” Jimin grabbed her hand and dragged her past the marble columns of the follies and away from the sprawling gardens.

 

They found themselves at a beautiful meadow where a picturesque lake was dotted with little thatched cottages and small vegetable patches. Hameau de la Reine was a much simpler setting than the grand palace and definitely less crowded with only a few souls here and there. It was ethereal and Jimin’s breath would always be taken away no matter how many times she visited the place.

 

“Now, this.” Minjeong muttered, “This is a fairytale.”

 

Jimin smiled, watching her take in a deep breath of the fresh air, “I knew you’d love it.”

 

They walked around the rustic village, finally able to photograph some good shots and admiring the dairies, the mill, the Malborough Tower, and other buildings Minjeong ooh-ed and ahh-ed to. The blonde particularly enjoyed playing with the animals and Jimin managed to take another stolen picture of her feeding a rabbit.

 

After touring the village, they stood by the lake, watching the fishes. Minjeong was quiet and Jimin let her enjoy her peace for a while before asking, “What’s on your mind?”

 

“How everything’s beautiful,” Minjeong replied, “But fake.”

 

Jimin let out a low whistle, “What depressing thoughts to have.”

 

Minjeong chuckled, shrugging, “Maybe it’s just the cold getting to me.”

 

Jimin clicked her tongue, “Why are you out wearing just a dress, anyway? It’s autumn, princess.”

 

Minjeong snorted, “I thought we’re done with the royalty roleplay?”

 

Jimin just grinned, an idea tickling the base of her mind. She took out her phone and played a classical piece then offered the puzzled Minjeong a hand.

 

“Uhh, what?”

 

“Can I have this dance, your royal highness?”

 

“You’re crazy.”

 

Jimin laughed, grabbing Minjeong’s hand and putting themselves on a waltz stance herself. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

 

Minjeong scoffed, though her red cheeks were visible as they aimlessly swayed along to the music. “Jimin, this is embarrassing.” she hissed.

 

Jimin snickered, twirling Minjeong much to the blonde’s mortification, “It would’ve been more embarrassing if we did this at the palace.”

 

“You wouldn’t.”

 

“I would have.”

 

Jimin shifted to wrap her arms around Minjeong’s waist, closing her eyes as she pressed their foreheads together. Minjeong was warm and soft and small and fit perfectly inside Jimin’s embrace. She smelled nice too. Soft and powdery, like a baby. Jimin didn’t want to open her eyes, didn’t want their little moment to end just yet.

 

Her fear resurfaced. What happens after Minjeong returns to Seoul? She dreaded going back to being alone, finding the blonde’s company a little too enjoyable. It had been a while since Jimin met someone who clicked with her so well. The girl was a package of surprising charms too. Minjeong was drop-dead gorgeous, yes, but she was also effortlessly funny and kind, caring and considerate yet low-key. Maybe it was too soon but Jimin could confidently say that she was the perfect companion one could ever ask for.

 

She tightened her hold around Minjeong’s waist. Would it be selfish to ask for her to spare her a few more days? Would it be pathetic for her to ask her to stay? Jimin knew it would be bad to get so attached but she couldn’t bring herself to keep distance either. Five days was fleeting and she wanted to make the best out of every precious second.

 

“This is so weird.” Minjeong said, looking everywhere but Jimin and she had to agree. It was weird, but she did not want to let go just yet.

 

“POV: You’re a princess from the 17th century, having a secret affair with your female subject,” Jimin faked a gasp, “Scandalous.”

 

Minjeong snorted, “That sounds familiar but I thought you were my knight in shining armor?”

 

“I can be anything you want me to be, ma chérie.”

 

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

 

Time passes quickly when you’re having fun.

 

It was a phrase Jimin had always heard but had never felt so strongly until this Paris trip with Minjeong. After their royalty roleplaying at Versailles, Jimin brought Minjeong to the Latin Quarter where they had lunch at yet another cute cafe, shopped for books at Shakespeare and Co., and visited the ménagerie du Jardin des plantes squealing at the cute red pandas and cursing the privileged people of historical France for keeping such animals in captivity for mere entertainment and social status.

 

Time slipped by, just like that and now it’s the fourth day and Jimin felt more distraught than ever.

 

She restlessly tapped on the steering wheel as she waited for Minjeong to arrive, even thinking of going to her hotel room just to see her sooner. She couldn’t even think of anything to say to the cameras, nerves too frazzled at the fact that she only had less than 48 hours with Minjeong. Her eyes were trained on the hotel doors, watching out for that certain shade of blonde to pop out so she could whisk her away.

 

In between a few moments and forever, Minjeong finally showed up. Her hair was down and she was wearing the same plain white sweater she wore the night they met at Primo’s, minimal makeup on her ever stern face.

 

“Hey. Is something wrong?” Minjeong asked, already settled on the passenger’s seat. “You’ve done nothing but stare at me as soon as I got in and it’s getting creepy. Is this the part where you drive me off to the country, murder me, and throw my body to the Thames?”

 

Her brows were scrunched together but there was a twinkle in her eyes with the slightest of curves on the corner of her lips and lord will Jimin miss this.

 

“Minjeong, River Thames is in London.”

 

“Of all the things I said, that’s what you’re concerned about?” Minjeong gasped, “You’re a serial killer, confirmed.”

 

Jimin rolled her eyes, laughing as she started driving away from the hotel, “Oh, yes. I’m going to gut you and sell your innards for a thousand dollars.”

 

“Only a thousand? I personally think it can cost at least a couple of millions. I’m pretty healthy.”

 

“Of all the things I said, that’s what you’re concerned about?” Jimin mimicked, tone mocking.

 

Minjeong snorted. “I think I do have a say on how much my squishy guts cost and you are not being a smart businesswoman.”

 

Jimin chuckled, feeling the anxiety ebb away from her shoulders, completely relaxing in Minjeong’s presence. It was right now, at that moment with Kim Minjeong in her car demanding for breakfast that mattered.

 

“Minjeong,” Jimin called when the girl finished her toast.

 

“Mm?”

 

“Can I hold your hand?”

 

Minjeong almost choked on her coffee. “Uhh, why?”

 

To make every second count. “Just because.”

 

“Sus. But okay.” Minjeong placed her hand on Jimin’s waiting palm.

 

She gave the blonde a smile, resting their entwined fingers above the gear stick. Holding Minjeong’s hand was warm and soft, in contrast to her pen name, which made Jimin wonder, “Why are you called ‘Winter’?”

 

“It depends on who you’re asking.” Minjeong replied, “Yizhuo would tell you it’s because I’m a coldhearted . Aeri would tell you it’s because I’m a precious little snowflake.” she made a face, “Her words, not mine.”

 

Jimin laughed, loving it when Minjeong talked about her friends. “What about you? You’re the one I’m asking now.”

 

She felt her finger twitch. “Well,” Minjeong started, looking out the window. “Someone chose it for me. Winters used to be special, at first. But now I hate it and I--well, it’s nothing more than a pseudonym now. I can’t really do much about it, since it’s already trademarked and everything.”

 

She laughed it off but Jimin gave her hand a comforting squeeze. She didn’t seem like she wanted to talk about it, so Jimin asked instead, “What’s your favorite season?”

 

“Autumn.” Minjeong gave her a ‘can you believe it’ look, earning a smile. “What about you?”

 

“Printemps.” Jimin answered, “Spring.”

 

“Printemps.” Minjeong repeated with her exaggerated French and Jimin’s giggling again. “I like it. What’s mine?”

 

“Hiver. Winter is hiver.”

 

Minjeong’s grinning, facing her with fluffy cheeks squished against the leather of her seat. The streets of Paris flashed behind her in a blur and of all sceneries they’ve seen, this one was by far Jimin’s favorite.

 

“Eyes on the road, mademoiselle.” Minjeong chided.

 

Jimin laughed, cheeks heating up. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Minjeong had brought their joined hands on her lap, featherlight fingers drawing invisible patterns on the back of Jimin’s hand, the touch making goosebumps rise on her arms. “Printemps et hiver. Sounds classy. I like it.”

 

“We are a couple of classy besties.”

 

“Yeah...we sure are.”

 

Minjeong had mentioned in passing during their conversation at Primo that she enjoyed horror and with that information, Jimin made sure to include Les Catacombes in their itinerary, despite the fact that she herself could not, for the love of God, stand the said genre.

 

Underground, cold and cramped walkways that went on for twenty long meters, the Paris Catacombs was an eerie place to visit with millions of Parisian remains displayed like trophies. She swore never to set foot in it, being a big scaredy cat. But, well, it seems that was about to change.

 

Skipping the line (she had booked a private tour because she herself wasn’t familiar with the place and frankly, it wasn’t something she would willingly research about), Jimin clung to Minjeong for life as they descended a spiraling staircase for what seemed like forever. 130 steps and 20 feet underground, their guide said, and by the time they reached the floor, Jimin found herself on the verge of a panic attack. Her heartbeats accelerated, breathing turning into pants as her fingers slowly turned into ice.

 

Down there it was too dark, too eerie, and too cold. Blinking, her eyes adjusted to the dim light and struggled to get a clear view of the place but there’s nothing but a narrow dirt pathway leading into ominous darkness. Oookay.

 

A warm body pressed next to her, a comforting palm on the small of her back and the fresh scent of powdery vanilla, light, comforting, and familiar, replacing the musty underground smell. Her heart slowly went back to it’s calm rhythmic pulse.

 

“You okay?” Minjeong asked, both concern and amusement swimming in her eyes that twinkled even in this godforsaken place. Like a shining beacon. A safe haven.

 

Words were stuck in Jimin’s throat. Minjeong had always been breathtakingly beautiful and Jimin had always been aware (painfully aware) of that so why was she suddenly having an enlightening moment down there, 20 feet beneath the ground?

 

Their guide cleared his throat, “Off we go, tourtereaux. This way please.”

 

Jimin was about to follow but Minjeong held her by the waist, looking at her with worry and making it clear that she wasn’t going to move unless Jimin answered her question.

 

Jimin smiled, “It’s okay.”

 

Minjeong tugged on her hand, “Yeah but are you okay?”

 

Jimin squeezed hers in reply, “I’ll be fine. Just...don’t let go.”

 

Minjeong pulled her close, arms linked and hands still entwined, “I won’t.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Jimin pressed on, focusing on Minjeong’s warmth and sweet scent instead of the dark, mud-lined corridor which ended with an arched doorway of stacked femurs and lines of brown, weathered skulls.

 

“Wow. This is so cool.” Minjeong muttered, gaping up at the bones. She squinted at the large words in crude black letters over the doorway. "Arrête c’est i--what's that?”

 

“Arrête! C'est ici l'empire de la mort,” Jimin read for her.

 

“What does it mean?”

 

Jimin swallowed, “It says, ‘Stop! Beyond here lies the empire of death.’”

 

Minjeong grinned like a child about to enter an amusement park. “Sounds fun! Let’s go!”

 

Jimin went through the agonizing two or so kilometers procession, going into protective encyst mode of no thoughts head empty. She listlessly floated along like a ghost among the bones, only giving Minjeong a smile whenever the blonde was impressed by something that turned to her for her reaction.

 

The guide yammered about the history but he lost Jimin as soon as he started talking about the overflowing corpses from the Cimètiere des Innocents being exhumed. He told them about each room and among them only Puits de Port-Mahon registered in Jimin’s mind. Partly because there weren’t skeletons everywhere, and mostly because there were beautiful sculptures of buildings literally hewn out of the rock face.

 

The only part Jimin enjoyed was watching Minjeong, which lasted for the entire tour duration. The girl’s eyes were sparkling like Jimin had never seen before. And she was looking at a bunch of bones, in a dark, stuffy corridor. Did that even make sense? She was laughing, making fun of the misshapen bones saying it looked like this or that (Jimin had to give their guide apologetic smiles) and Jimin should really have been the one to suspect that she’s secretly a sociopath at the beginning.

 

There were also Minjeong’s touches. While Jimin was used to initiating contact, it still made her flustered whenever Minjeong did it first. It wasn’t much of a big deal, just holding and massaging her hand, tracing comforting circles on the small of her back, pulling her close, and rubbing her arms whenever she complained about the cold. It drove her out of her mind and while the flutters in her stomach was a clear indication of what was happening, Jimin let herself feel, holding on to the fact that all this will end, a fact that was starting to feel both a worry and a comfort.

 

After the 2 kilometer walk (their guide confirmed it was indeed two) through the cold mass grave, Jimin could barely make herself climb the 83 steps back to the surface.

 

She had never appreciated the sun more than she did stepping out of that damp, dead darkness.

 

“That was amazing.” Minjeong exclaimed, distancing herself from Jimin and Jimin never thought she’d miss the tight hallways. “Have you seen those bones?”

 

“Believe me, I have.” Jimin replied drily.

 

As Minjeong animatedly talked about how there might have been spirits watching them pass, Jimin could only chuckle and shake her head. To hell with panic attacks. At least she enjoyed herself.

 

Next on the schedule was lunch at a French bistro nearby--La Vie d’Ange, one of Jimin’s personal favorites. The place was intimate, warm, cozy, and authentic with classical music playing in the background like a cherry on top. The owner was incredibly friendly and welcoming too and with Jimin’s multiple visits have become a good friend (anyone who serves crème brûlée for free and chooses excellent wine to go with your food is a good friend). Their lamb was to die for and their grilled scallops were divine, if the grunts of approval Minjeong had been giving for the past fifteen minutes were of any indication.

 

“This is amazing.” Minjeong said after expressing how delicious the lamb fillet was with onomatopoeia. “This is the best meal I’ve ever had in Paris so far.”

 

“Hey, I took you to many good restaurants.” Jimin pointed out.

 

“Yes but this!” Minjeong gestured to the food with her knife, “This is simply-” she kissed her fingers. “Buono!”

 

“You do realize that’s Italian, right?”

 

“Whatever, language police.”

 

Jimin chuckled at her antics, “It’s one of my secret places, or whatever you’d like to call it. Glad you like it.”

 

“You sure have a lot of secret places.” Minjeong suddenly paused, chewing on her lip in contemplation, “Say, can I ask for a favor?”

 

Jimin’s brows rose, “Depends on what that favor is. Let’s hear it.”

 

“Can we cancel tomorrow?”

 

Her gut sank, breath knocked out of her lungs. Oh no. Was she getting tired of the discreet places she’s been taking her to? Maybe she wanted to go to those overrated sights. She did keep talking about Arch de Triomph. Jimin should’ve known. She should’ve seen this coming. She rapidly blinked, putting her fork down. “Um, why..?”

 

“It’s just...you showed me a lot of wonderful places and I want to pay you back. At least just for one day.” Minjeong said, “So I’m asking if you can cancel our itinerary tomorrow, so I can do the planning instead. Though, of course, I understand if you don’t want to because you’ve worked hard preparing our schedule but--uh, why are you laughing?”

 

Jimin shook her head, shoulders shaking from barely concealed laughter. “Nothing--just--you should’ve said so earlier. You scared me there.”

 

“Huh? What do you mean?”

 

“Never mind.” Jimin was still grinning so wide her cheeks hurt but damn was she relieved. “Okay, we can do that.”

 

Minjeong’s brows were still furrowed with concern. “You sure?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, we were just going to the Eiffel Tower tomorrow. After we visit Arch de Triomphe.”

 

Minjeong gasped, “Arch de Triomphe?!”

 

“No takesy backsies.” Jimin laughed, “I can’t wait to see what you got in store for tomorrow.”

 

“Oh, you’ll be surprised. It’ll be like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.”

 

 

***

 

 

 

chapter 4 songs for context

La Vie En Rose by Édith Piaf

Je t'aime by Lara Fabian

Mozart sonata for two pianos in D major K. 488