She opened her eyes to a wooden sign, proclaiming their arrival to Gardenia Town. With sleep still clinging on her eyes, she watched as the sign began to progressively enlarge. The words painted on the sign seemed to embody the town’s simple elegance: gold-coloured, painted by the experienced hand of a veteran calligrapher.

The broad roads they had been travelling on before appeared to have given way to something narrower, but not so small as to restrict the safe passage of two cars in opposite directions. The trees seemed to have doubled in size and height, but they appeared to be neater, more calculatedly arranged than the haphazard forests they had passed before. The leaves filtered the sunlight though, and Junhee was finally able to store away her little portable fan. The passengers’ energy also seemed to have returned, having been pacified into submission by the heat a few hours before.

She shifted in her seat, hoping to get a better view of the town looming in front of her. It was a quaint little town, located to the east of Seoul, and much of its surroundings were predominantly trees and nature. Situated next to the lake, it contributed to the government mostly as a tourist spot, although its agricultural ventures had also proved successful, what with the fertile soil and temperate climate. Junhee saw it more as a little island, completely surrounded by trees and nature, yet capable enough to shelter a community and had all the required amenities. It was almost as if it was a country of its own. In fact, if there had been a castle, it would have been like a fairytale.

Soon, they began rolling in the small town. She pressed her nose to the glass, trying to take in whatever there was before they were ushered into their hotels to check-in. Every shop here stood in rows, though not exactly uniform in terms of shape and size. Each building had its own touch, unique to its neighbours; the variations could extend from the types of flowers they had in their flower boxes and the length of the awnings extending from their front entrances, but despite the image of organised chaos, each one was as inviting as the next.

The roads didn’t branch out as much as the roads in Seoul, and the drivers here were nicer than the loons she’d had the misfortune of encountering during her escapades in Seoul’s posh areas. She wondered, quite absently, whether it was culture or a behavioural trait drilled in by secret classes conducted by the government.

It was also a source of amazement to her to find that the people here were infinitely more relaxed. In Seoul, everything had a deadline and everyone had a place to be; cars were always head to head and shoving was as reflexive as the murmured apology that came after. People here seemed to have calmness down to an art, as if time was infinite and everything would fall into place in the end. It was both strange and satisfying.

They passed what appeared to be the ‘busy’ part of town and came to the near edge, where the bus finally stopped and everyone disembarked. Junhee smiled as she waved the old couple behind her to move forwards, and they favoured her with smiles in return. She slung her bag over her shoulder, keeping a tight grip over the strap (everything here was so disarming that she felt the need to hold on to the life she left behind), and stepped out.

The rose-coloured building that greeted her was every bit as charming as the other buildings she had encountered –even lovelier in fact, if one were to take into account the beautiful flowers framing the front door and occupying almost every inch of extra soil there was. A pale green sign ran almost the entire length of the space below the first floor windows and the awning: ‘Taeyeon’s Bed and Breakfast’. Everyone took out their cameras to take pictures.

Once the general admiration and awe had subsided, they finally advanced to the check-in counter. Junhee twisted the hem of her sweater as she waited in line, turning her head and recording everything into memory every few seconds or so. The inside was as picturesque as the front, with plush, flowered sofas, wooden coffee tables that, despite being old, looked too precious to remove, and several frilly lamps placed strategically to avoid it from looking too garish.

“Hello, welcome to Taeyeon’s B&B. I’m Taeyeon, how may I help you?”

The girl had a terrific smile, she noted, the kind that was gentle at the corners but spread towards the eyes and tugged at its edges to form crescents. The girl herself was pretty too, like a delicate rose waiting to be plucked.

“Hi, I have reservations under the name of Baek Junhee.”

She nodded, her fingers moving swiftly to type my name into her computer. “Yes, I have you right here. You will be in room 21. How much would you like to deposit?”

When she was done, she handed her the room keys, offering another pretty smile and a warm welcome, and Junhee tugged her suitcase and went on her way. The B&B wasn’t very large; there was only one staircase to the back of the main hall, but an elevator was available for use at the end of a corridor branching towards the right. She tugged her suitcase towards the stairs and proceeded to climb.

Like everything else, the room was charming, but surprisingly simple in comparison to the lobby, although the owner certainly retained her affinity for flowers. There was a vase of daisies on the night stand, and the whole room itself smelt of roses on a summer morning. Junhee tugged her suitcase in, just enough for it to not get slammed by the door, and proceeded to flop herself on the bed and close her eyes.

At four o’clock, Junhee was halfway out of the door while simultaneously trying to stuff a stale muffin into . Lunch hadn’t been as satisfying as she hoped, but dinner was still a long time coming and the initial part of her plan had been sightseeing, so it couldn’t hurt to while away the time. Her bag hung haphazardly down her shoulder despite her fruitless attempts to tug it up, the nuisance of having too much art supplies and being unable to remove any one of them for fear they might be needed.

She tugged her guide book out of her bag, shaking off the pencils that insisted on coming out with it. She remembered reading in the guide that the town, despite its little nooks and crannies and wealth of entertainment facilities, had only one jewel: Gardenia Lake. Located to the east of the B&B, the lake was what inspired the development of the town in the first place. According to the guidebook, it was picturesque, emerald waters lapping against wooden pilings. It had been the reason why Junhee endured the five-hour ride in the metal shamble of a bus and why she decided to forgo a more economical trip to her parent’s home at Seoul. Lake Gardenia was said to be a sight to behold, and she couldn’t wait to draw it.

It wasn’t far, she learned from the receptionist, just a fifteen minute walk from the B&B, going east. If she wanted there were cabs in service that she could call; Junhee declined, knowing that taking cabs would end up taking up a huge portion of her funds.

The park was a mixture of liveliness and serenity. The water was the shimmering colour of dark emerald, stretching from the banks and far into the forest, its edges lapping at the base of the old trees. The park was a half circle divided into two, one half with manicured trees, a small fountain, and benches facing the water; the other had merely green grass but was apparently more favoured by the public. It had a jetty extending into the lake, from which some kids her age and younger were cannonballing into the water.

The water looked much too dangerous to get close to, and she eyed the rippling waves with both trepidation and fascination as she clutched her bag with her art supplies close to her chest. Some of the things were irreplaceable, and she knew she’d cry if the water destroyed her sketchbook.

So, she settled on the bench on the safer park half of the division, though she did make sure that she was close enough to the jetty to be able to draw everything that was going on. She wanted to capture the movements of the kids, the way their body arched as they jumped into the depthless lake, and the way the water crept up as their skin was slowly submerged in the water. The faces needn’t be so detailed; movement was already a beauty on its own.

She began a rough sketch of everything that she saw, starting with soft, easy meant to be enhanced and darkened when she was done with the base. Her hands moved with the practiced ease achieved through talent and training. Soon, the page began to fill up; the buildings began taking shape and the clouds slowly came into their cotton-like form, but the jetty remained to be the most detailed sketch. The overlapping planks, dark where it faced the water, light on the surfaces that touched by the sun; and the pilings, uneven wooden stumps that were far from uniform, but somehow managed to blend into each other perfectly. She paused when her hand started to get sore and leaned back, propping her head on her hand as she watched the ongoing activity that seemed too much for the old planks to withstand, but was still able to anyway.

Her attention though, was caught by a few boys who were probably the only ones fully clothed on the dock. Two of them were posed in awkward positions on the pilings, decked in clothes that looked much too nice to be so close to water. The other was standing a few feet away from them, holding something black that glinted underneath the sun –a camera.

“Hey, Jongin? Could you just your head back a little, and maybe try out that y lip- move that you always –”

“Dammit, just take the picture will you?” one the other boys –his models –barked. His voice was deep and husky, and from the scrunch in between his eyebrows, he looked less than happy. “This is one hell of an awkward position.”

Indeed it was, she thought, eyeing the way he was sprawled on the pilings, long legs held up by another stump. He looked a little wobbly on it, to be honest.

“I think I’m going to fall!” the other one shrieked, panicked. He had blonde hair sleeked back from his forehead, and like his companion, was, in normal lingo, pretty hot. He was standing on one of the wooden posts, towering height doubled and centre of gravity certainly too high for him to balance on that thing any longer.

“Yeah, we’re almost done,” the one behind the camera said. “All I need is you two to lean back.”

Both boys looked ready to murder him.

He looked up at them innocently. “What? You want these shots to come out good, right?”

The boys did as they were told, albeit reluctantly, arching their backs as far as they could go while trying their best to not compromise too much of their balance. But given their already precarious positions, it was hardly saying anything. With a yelp that sounded like a strangled puppy, the blonde one fell head-first into to the lake.

The one behind the camera emerged with a smirk. “Perfect!”

Junhee watched the scene with wide eyes, and so did twenty or so onlookers. Soon, everyone was hooting with laughter. She valiantly tried to hide her smile, but watching the boy paddle about and choking on water as he screamed profanities at the boy with the camera was too much. She burst into laughter.

The boy with the camera suddenly turned to look at her. Through the half-formed tears in her eyes, she saw a handsome face with equally bright eyes, shining with mirth. He had dark brown hair which seemed to flop above his eyes, half combed but oddly neat. Combined with his mischievous smile, he looked perfect.

 The other model –Jongin –was doubled up in laughter as well, barely able to form a proper sentence between gasps of air. He was still shaking with amusement as he walked over to the boy and snatched up his camera. His smile slowly disappeared as he scrolled further through the pictures.

“What the –where are all the shots on the jetty?”

“Oh?” the boy with the mischievous smile asked. “Didn’t I tell you? I ran out of memory sometime after the thirtieth shot. I just thought it’d be fun to see if you guys could really pull off that nonsense.”

Jongin looked like he really was going to murder him. The blonde one, having just climbed the bank, screamed a profanity that made all the mothers clap their hands over their children’s ears.

“I am going to punch you,” he intoned. “I am going to throw your camera into the lake and tie you to one the posts!”

Laughing, the boy snatched up his camera and sprinted for his life. For a moment, she could have sworn he winked at her.

Junhee took a step back and tilted her head up, trying to read the sign pasted over the front. The words, ‘Everyday Cafe’ danced in beautiful cursive, set against a background of green that matched the chairs and tables dotting the interior. Inside, people milled about, cradling Styrofoam cups with puffs of steam spiralling upwards. Smiling slightly to herself, she pushed open the door and stepped in.

After ordering a hazelnut latte, she settled in the seat next to the window, underneath the patch of sunlight and right next to the sidewalk. The lighting was perfect for her to review her sketches. As she nibbled on her muffin, she began the task of touching up the sketches, darkening the shades and adding slight details to make everything look realistic. She paused for a while and smiled when she reached the three figures she had quickly sketched in as a last minute inspiration: the enigmatic male models and playful cameraman. In her sketch, he had his cameral clutched in his right hand while his left was raised in a vague gesture, guiding his subjects into a series of poses on the dock’s posts. She laughed slightly at the memory.

As she closed the sketchbook and looked up, she saw the familiar gleam of something black and shiny, perched on a table on the other side of the shop. She looked up, and caught sight of a familiar profile. His face was all sharp lines and angles, with high cheekbones and a jawline that curved sharply upwards from his chin. Even from a side view she could see the slight curl at the edge of his mouth, a curved line that she would have loved to draw if she could ever see his smile up close.

She didn’t know why she suddenly turned to look at him. Was it instinct? People always turned when they feel someone staring at them, but he seemed much too engrossed in his coffee to have been doing it to her. Maybe she was just imagining it.

Shaking it off, she began taking slow sips of her latte. She loved this town already.