Yesterday’s mist has cleared and tonight, the full moon is smiling brightly down at Seoul.  Tonight is not as bitter and dark as last night; the air is still and everywhere there is the feeling of Christmas and warmth.  Festivity lingers in the atmosphere: trees wear colorful Christmas decorations, shop windows are decorated with hollies and red and green glittery ornaments, the last of the shops are beginning to close.  The crowd has already dispersed with a bag of bought goods swinging in their hand.  It is approaching half eleven, but there is still one man wandering by himself this very hour tightly wrapped by a black overcoat and a thick cashmere scarf.  Shim ChangMin is strolling in the street alone, pulling at his black gloves as an assurance that his hands are indeed toasted.  He lets out a tiny breath and marvels at the steam evaporating before his eyes as quickly as it came.
Today and tomorrow are the only days free of schedules, and the idol is using his precious time doing the things he cannot do all year around.  One of the few things he loves doing is walking by himself to anywhere, without a destination in mind.  Being able to saunter where his feet take him without interference from the media or his managers, to go without hearing screams or meeting flashing cameras, to be a normal person for two days; right now, the world is so peaceful and silent.  He met with his friends and caught up with them the whole day, and it was nice to know he has another identity other than the mask he dons every day.
“ChangMin?”
The idol freezes on the spot at the faint and hesitant whisper of his name.  He does not turn around, only drops his head to his left shoulder.  Earlier he has played with the idea of a fan spotting him, but his mind guaranteed there would not be girls walking by themselves at night, let alone his fans.  But should anything happen, he would give a curt nod and a small smile before asking if they would not take photos of him.
“Oppa?”
The voice is gentle and authoritative at the same time.  ChangMin turns around to find a lady in a long beige coat wearing an ash grey beret.  Her slender figure casts a long shadow over the pavement.  She strolls towards ChangMin, her hands stuffed in her pocket. 
“MinAh?”  ChangMin is astonished to find the appearance of his ex in the same street as him at this time.  “Is that you?”
“Oh my,” the girl breathes, “oppa it’s really you!”  She continues her way towards Max.  “What are you doing here?”
“I- I- I…”
Shocked- completely taken by surprise at his ex’s unexpected emergence, ChangMin can only stand there silently as his ex-girlfriend tilts her head, examining the man looming in front of her.  Byeong MinAh’s cheeks are flushed, a contrast to her ivory skin emphasized by the glowing moon.  She has not changed at all, not one bit: she still possesses her aristocratic features, her intelligent chestnut eyes, her timeless smile that melts the coldest of ice.  ChangMin would not say she is beautiful, but she is one of a kind.  Out of the few girls he dated, MinAh was his “recent” break-up, which took place when he was 20.  Like his previous break-up’s, the main reason was his obsessive and controlling nature over his girlfriend: he would ask after her parents, her well-being, what she was doing before they met and who she was with without fail.  Of course this annoyed his past girlfriends, but it infuriated MinAh after two months of dating him.  She does not like to be tamed by anyone; she is of strong character and is able to withstand despotic circumstances, thus she is the head honcho in her department of Accounting and Analysis in Goldman Sachs.  Despite her iron personality ChangMin had rare glimpses of the soft and feminine side of Byeon MinAh when they were together, like now here in the empty street.
“How are you?”  MinAh utters, rushing at him and draws her arms around his back.  “I haven’t heard from you for so long.”
“I- I’m so busy.” 
Her raven hair tumbles down her back; the smell of her perfume is suddenly overwhelming and the memories of being in her arms come flooding back.
“How are you, really?”  She murmurs in his ear, her warm breath tickles his skin.  She pulls herself away.  “The last I heard of you from your parents is that you're doing very well, despite the split...”
“Let’s take a walk.”  ChangMin offers his arm, and she takes it.
The two fall silent as they abandon the street to a footpath.  They meander through the pathway which eventually leads to Yangjae’s Citizen’s Forest Seoul.  The lane in the park stretches and there are trees on either side, the dark skinny branches reach out to the sky.  Even at night, ChangMin finds himself at ease in the park in spite of the foreboding shadows which the trees conjure.  A single bench eventually reveals itself.  They settle down and take in the view of the green in front of them.  Wind picks up a few leaves and flings them here and there.  A couple of birds perch on a few trees away from them, chirping softly among themselves.  They sit there mutely for a couple of minutes before ChangMin turns his head to face MinAh.  The serene moonlight softens her facial traits, transforming her into her younger self back when they were going out.
“How’s work?”  His voice is mellow.
“Hectic as always,” she replies, not shifting her gaze at him, “handling people’s bank accounts and providing feedbacks, being abused at because there’s still no replacement for the coffee machine, getting murdered by my bosses for not whipping some of the staff into better shape.  You know, the usual.”
He smiles.  “Yes, I presumed as much.”
“And you?”  This time, she turns around.  There’s an unreadable expression on her face which Max can never work out.  “Are you doing well?”
“Yeah…”
“I heard the new album is soaring in the charts,” she comments, “I hope your tour would be successful.”  A pause.  “How’s oppa?”
“Hyung is fine…” The conversation trails to a dead end.  Silence settles like a pall over the park.  If only it isn’t so awkward between them.  Ever since their split ChangMin has occasionally wondered if he weren’t obsessive and controlling, would the relationship still exist?  Even now he still has a soft-spot for her because somehow he knows, there is a part of him that wants to be with her.  Does she feel the same?
“Opp-“
“Min-“ They both start.  “I’m sorry…”
Icy breeze sweeps past and pecks their cheeks.  A few birds scram before the breeze has the chance to ruffle their feathers.
“What we had,” MinAh begins after a long silence, carefully tucking a thin rope of hair behind her ear, “cannot be.”  her lips before pressing them together, she continues: “I don’t regret those few months we spent together, but we must move on.  You must move on.”
Shim ChangMin stays silent, his eyes bore into her side of the face from the dark.
“We can’t go back to that moment and re-do everything, and I don’t want to either. I would like you to stay as my friend, isn't that enough?”
No, she does not feel the same as he does.  Somehow it’s a relief to hear her say that: now he can finally stop all the wonderings and if’s.
He responds by reaching out and giving her hand a little squeeze.
She sighs.  “The reason I’m out at this is because my boyfriend and I had a row,” she admits, “he doesn’t like the idea that my work is better-paid that his.  He wants me to give it up.”
ChangMin smirks.  “He doesn’t know you very well, does he?”
“I’m being serious,” and she is, but she can’t help and smile too, “and these last months I..."
"... lost the reason?"
She pinches her lips together, not trusting herself to say anymore on the subject.  "Anyway, it's not a big deal.  What about you, Minnie?"
"Minnie... I haven't heard that name for a long time."
"Remember you used to call me your-"
"Bumble Bee," ChangMin smiles at the memory, "do you remember the time when we spend Christmas together and we wanted to do a Western Christmas?"
"Yeah, and you burnt the turkey and the potatoes weren't really potatoes... what were they supposed to be?"
"Don't know, but it didn't look right.  It was a slop."
"And I made us kimchi stew in the end."
"You make the best kimchi stew."
"Funny, I remember it was too watery to be stew."  MinAh grins.  "You and your sarcasm: they were my best friends in those days."
Suddenly ChangMin's watch sounds twice.
"Merry Christmas, Minnie."
"Merry Christmas, MinAh."
Thus these two sit together, content and wholesome that they will always have one another.
Merry Christmas, Bumble Bee.