“Hello?”

Woohyun picked up his ringing phone lackadaisically without gracing a glance at the caller’s ID.

“Hi tree.”
He smiled and for a while repented that he worried Bomi could stay mad with him for more than five hours.

“Hi gorilla,” he chirped, and bolted up on his bed to lean against his bedpost. He observed his fingernails and judging they had grown a little too long, bit them dutifully, grooming the ends into short neat lines on top of the pink.

“Don’t bite your nails,” her nag resounded through the speaker.

Woohyun laughed. She knew him too well, and sometimes that gave her that misfortunate advantage to scold him more often.

“You’re not mad with me, are you?” she asked quietly.

“Of course not. You should be mad at me for breaking my promise.”

“I still am,” she retorted, “So don’t be surprised if I barge in gatecrashing your birthday party tomorrow.”

“Gorillas are wild animals. I’ve prepared myself for that.”

They talked about school, her grades, her parents, and her showcase, which reminded him, Krystal’s anniversary party.

“What should I wear? An anniversary party would be formal right?’

She was silent on the other line. He forgot he had just cut her off in the middle of her enthusiastic introduction to her dance partner.

“Right sorry, and continue with what you were saying.”

“Actually Woohyun, were you even listening at all? Or were you just fretting over your clothes for Krystal’s invitation these two hours?”

“I was listening,” he defended himself. He could see Bomi’s incredulous raising of her thin baby eyebrows.

“Right. I have to go dance again, so see you tomorrow.”

He glanced at the clock. It seemed like Bomi did too.

“And happy eighteenth birthday tree,” she added in a gayer voice.

Eunji was his first guest the next morning. As soon as the door clicked open, the girl stampeded through the doorsill and pranced herself onto him. “Happy birthday !” she screamed into his ear. Her singing lessons must have paid off - her yell loud and high.
“Yeah thanks”

Bouncing off the boy, she wandered to the kitchen, clutching onto four suspicious paper bags at her sides, and disappeared behind the walls. Woohyun winced when thunderous clatters of falling pans boomed out of the room.

“I’m okay!”

Five minutes later Bomi intruded into his house without a knock, her small arms occupied with stacks of boxes piled higher than her own head. Woohyun stared at her blankly from his couch. She dropped them with a loud thud before zestfully running to the couch and whispering her second birthday congratulation slipped into the kitchen with Eunji. He glanced back at Charlie Chaplain falling into a cardboard box in his television. His phone spun as it buzzed.

“Remember the movie today? See you in an hour, and happy birthday! - Krystal”

Woohyun smiled like a fool. He aimless fingers across the keyboard and eventually put it back on the table without sending a reply. He didn’t know what to say.

Girlish giggles seeped through the crack underneath the white kitchen door. Eunji and Bomi would incarcerate themselves into the room every year for four hours. Magically, they would always produce a titanic birthday cake clad in some jazzy icing, self-carved rainbow candles stuck messily on the top.

He knocked on the kitchen door.

“Go away,” Bomi hollered.

He backed off sheepishly relieved she said that. “I’ll be out for an hour or two.”

Eunji screamed loudly and Bomi laughed. Woohyun wasn’t sure they had heard him. Shrugging, he grabbed a thin cardigan and tiptoed out of the house. The secret autumn breeze whispered resents in his bare ears. He should be back at the house waiting, like the every other ten birthdays. Ignoring the ticklish doubts itching his bones he skipped down the sidewalk, his red cardigan flying like birds with the current of the winds.

From afar Woohyun spotted the girl covered under a dark green knitted hat. She had her hands slipped into the pockets of her black shorts, over which a brownish beige long-sleeved shirt loosely hung. He called her name from the other side of the grass, and Krystal spun around. Through her fluttering black hair, he saw her eyes glimmer in recognition. She waved, smiling.

“You look pretty today,” he complimented when he reached her.

“Thanks tree,” she replied, “Let’s go.”

Woohyun followed her and cocked his head. He didn’t remember ever telling her about the special sobriquet he only shared with Bomi. A slip of the tongue, he reckoned.  

They sauntered down the quiet sidewalk wordlessly. He gasped when Krystal’s cold delicate fingers crawled carefully into his empty palms. The electricity exhilarated his veins and flushed his face with deafening thumps of the heart hyperventilating his entire body system. Woohyun dared to peek a glance at her. She was staring at the ground, her rosy cheeks redder in hue than he had ever seen. She bit her lower lip, like Bomi always does, he remembered randomly.

“I’ll get the popcorn,” he uttered awkwardly when they arrived at the cinema.

“I’ll be at our seat.” And she swiveled away into the dark entrance of the theatre, hiding her precious blush he caught before her countenance was turned completely.

“One large sweet and salty mix please,” Woohyun ordered.

He tapped on the counter as the employee vanished behind the popcorn containers.

“Woohyun,” an unfamiliar male voice called, “What are you doing here?”

He looked around and stared stolidly when he distinguished Gongchan emerging out from the crowds. He would probably go tell him off to Bomi wouldn’t he, he pondered silently.

Woohyun bowed his neck half-heartedly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be having a birthday party with Bomi and EunJi?”

“I am.”
“Then what are you doing here at the cinema with Krystal?”

“What are you, spying on me?” Woohyun narrowed his eyes.

“Bomi told me about your birthday plans,” he noted, “And this was not in her plan.”
“So? It’s my birthday.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so egoistic, she wouldn’t have cancelled our movie outing,” Gongchan retaliated bitterly.

“I didn’t ask her to do anything for my birthday.” Woohyun wanted to gulp his words down back into his throat again. He was a wasn’t he?

“Then don’t ask anything out of her. Ever.”

Gongchan’s hiss repeated into his eardrums throughout the film. He didn’t remember how the movie ended, how Krystal led him the to backyard of her house, how she spouted about her future dreams, how they parted, and how he trudged back alone to his dark empty flat.  

The faint scent of the chocolate dough haunted him asleep.