Kim Hanbin was nine when he met Kim Jennie. Her family was the newest addition to the subdivision Hanbin lived in; her house just across his.

“Jennie’s family is from America, honey,” Hanbin’s mother began.

“Can I play with her?”

“Not until you get better,” she told him, planting a light kiss on his forehead.

Jennie had a very pretty face, Hanbin thought, and with her perfectly long and straight black hair, he also predicted that the neighbourhood kids would fall for her in no time. He was right. They did. Even the kids’ mothers fell in love with her. Kim Jennie, at the age of ten, became the role-model daughter in that little subdivision.

Hanbin would watch as the kids played with her in the road. Every day, he would peer through the windows with his arm pressed against his cheeks, while his elbow rested on the window sill. His other arm folded beneath. The boys were always crowded around Kim Jennie. From time to time, Jennie would steal a glance at Hanbin through his bedroom window, and he’d look back at her, as if they were signalling each other.

“Hey, you! Why don’t you ever come out to play with us?” Jennie shouted, when Hanbin opened his windows.

“I’m sick.”

“You’ve been sick for three months,” she said. Hanbin wasn’t sure if he was fond of her American accent or not. Maybe if he hears it enough, he’ll get used to it, the boy thought.

“Wrong. I’ve been sick for almost three years.”

“Oh. Daddy explained that kind of sickness before. Is it cancer?”

“I dunno. It just hurts,” Hanbin replied. 

“Well, you better stay in your room. Don’t you dare come out and play.”

The young boy laughed. “Will you still talk to me?”

“Only if you keep your windows open.”

Kim Hanbin was ten when he understood what having a crush felt like. And it felt ing dreadful. He couldn’t even control the colour of his cheeks, as they always turned vivacious red whenever she talked to him. His heart constantly felt like it was about to leave his body for good. Hanbin felt like he wasn’t himself anymore. Having a crush really , and the fact that it was Kim Jennie made it even worse. Like he was running a race against thousands.

Kim Hanbin was twelve when he realized that marriages can end in divorce, too. Or, well at least his parents’ did. He figured that it still wasn’t a very good way to end it, though. There was a lot of shouting, swearing, bag-packing and vase-throwing.

“It’s okay, Hanbin-ah,” Jennie said. “You’ll be okay.”

“It’s not okay.”

“Well, at least it will be. When I marry you, I’ll make sure it doesn’t end like that. I promise.”

Kim Hanbin was fourteen when he realized that, like marriages, promises were something that could be broken, too, (in fact, much more easily) when he saw Kim Jennie kissing a boy at the front porch of her house. It was Song Mino, the high schooler who was three years older than they were. Maybe three times cooler than Hanbin, too. He knew that Song Mino certainly didn’t have an illness that was taking over his whole life.

“He’s your boyfriend now?”

“Yeah. Hey, Hanbin?”

“What?”

“Tomorrow let’s not walk to school together.”

Kim Hanbin was sixteen when Kim Jennie talked to him for the first time since they’d started high school. She started hanging around with the cooler kids, you see. The kids who gets drunk at karaoke bars every Friday night and the kids who everyone seemed to like. The type of kids that Hanbin would never fit in with.

She buried her face on the front of his shoulders, and his school uniform got wet quickly. Between deep gasps and heavy sobs, she mumbled, “I love you, Hanbin.”

Even though those words were enough to make Hanbin’s heart jump out, cruise around the world and never come back, Hanbin was smart enough to figure out that those words were, in fact, lies. He’d observed her all this time, he could read Jennie like an open book. “What really happened?”

“I’m pregnant,” she admitted. “But I-I’ll get an abortion. Just don't tell them... My parents will kill me if they ever find out.” Their perfect daughter, Kim Jennie, was pregnant? God, they really will kill you, Hanbin thought. That same day, he easily stole some of his father’s money and gave it to Jennie.

“For the hospital fee,” Hanbin muttered as he handed the brown envelope to her.

“I really love you, Hanbin,” she said to him. This time, Hanbin couldn’t tell whether she was lying or not. She was a good talker and Hanbin’s skills were very limited. So the young boy told her that he loved her, too, and he has done, for six straight years. Even those odd two years when Jennie didn’t talk to him.

Whether she was lying or not, there that hope within Hanbin that he could, somehow, change her.

Kim Hanbin was also sixteen when he decided that his body was, still, yet an empty canvas. He wanted to paint this canvas. One for every mistakes he’s made, and another for every time he’s been hurt.

Too much.

“Kid, are you sure about this?” the man asked, holding the tattoo machine like how bad guys in movies held guns. “It’ll get ugly when you’re old, ya know.”

To which Hanbin responded with, “It’s okay. I’m sure about it, mister.” It won’t get ugly before he dies, Hanbin knew that. It wasn’t like he’d reach the age of old, anyway. He’d be considered lucky if he did—no, scratch lucky. It’d be a ing miracle.

“What the ?” Jennie said, upon seeing the piercings and tattoos. “What the did you do to yourself, Hanbin?”

“I’m still the same person. I just don’t look the same.”

“What the ?!” she yelled louder. “You’re meant to be my boyfriend! Not some ing freak!”

When Hanbin turned seventeen, Jennie fled back to America without even a goodbye. It was weird, because Hanbin wasn’t as sad as he thought he’d end up being. The cherry trees just kept getting greener. The gap in Hanbin’s relationship with his father kept getting wider.

Life continued just like that without Kim Jennie.

. . .

That’s proof that your heart is already broken. Broken things can’t break even more. – Hayi

Have you ever felt the same way? – Spring

I think I have. – Hayi

How did you recover? – Spring

I don’t know. But you feel everything that you should have felt back then. You feel it all at once. – Hayi

Does it hurt? – Spring

To the point that you start wanting to rip your own heart out. But that’s the start of the healing process. – Hayi

I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight, spring. – Hayi

We’ll talk again, right, Hayi? – Spring

Of course we will. That girl was only a chapter in your life—not the whole story. I guess it was a sad chapter, but it brings the positive out, too. – Hayi

Really? How so? – Spring

Think about it: when you hit rock bottom, the only way is up. – Hayi

And if I’m correct, something good happens to you next chapter, right? – Hayi

Apart from that she was a girl and she went to the same school as him, Hanbin didn’t know much about the stranger on his text messages. Even though Hayi told Hanbin her real name, while Hanbin kept anonymous, the boy actually told her more about his life than she told him about hers. But, if there was one thing Hanbin was sure of: the stranger who named herself Hayi was the most sincere stranger he had never met.

You could say that Hanbin was itching to see her. But an itch is something that you can scratch while an absence is something Hanbin couldn’t really do anything about. The warmth and the sincerity of her words alone was enough for Hanbin. He didn’t want to become too greedy, that would make him like his parents.

And that was the last thing that he wanted to be. Like his parents.

He read Hayi’s final message of the night, and he smirked to himself.

You’re right. Thank you again. Goodnight. – Spring

. . .

The tall boy sat in front of Hayi again. Hayi looked up from her paperback just to find him staring amusedly at her. 

“What do you want?” she asked.

The boy’s face flushed red. “Y-you usually never notice me.”

Usually? Hayi shot him a small frown. She had no time to waste on the boy sitting across her. She had to get to the part of the book where Reiko plays Norwegian Wood by The Beatles on her guitar, as it was Naoko’s favourite tune. Hayi remembered this scene because it was one of her many favourites in the novel. “From last time, how do you even know my name?”

“It isn’t hard to guess your name when it’s plastered in most of the books’ stamp cards. My name’s Jiwon, by the way,” he whispered across the table. “I’m a senior.”

“So, what do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” Jiwon answered, as he continued gaping at her.

“You’re going to burn a hole through me. Will you stop staring?” Hayi snarled.

“Sorry. I get told that I do that often. You just get on with what you’re doing, Hayi. I won’t piss you off,” he said as he pulled out a DS from his bag and fiddled with the buttons. Jiwon was playing Super Mario Bros 2, Hayi could hear the sound effects of Mario jumping up and down coming from his earphones. It used to be her favourite game, until she accidentally spilled hot soup on the handheld console.

“You’re annoying me.”

The boy laughed to himself. “Just act as if I’m not even here at all.”

“I will.”

Kim Jiwon liked to look at beautiful things.

Whether it was a photograph, a landscape or a pretty girl. He liked beautiful things, even the invisible ones. The ones you don’t see but feel, instead. Like what he felt when he saw Hayi sitting in that isolated little place in the library.

Where a swath of sunlight from the windows fell across her face so perfectly, flickering to her long eyelashes and turning her pale skin into an iridescent gold. Yet, she remained unmoving, trapped in that little world of hers.

Jiwon didn’t know anything about that world. But he’d never leave it at that.

. . .

How was your day, Spring? – Hayi

The same as always. I’m still alive. How was yours? – Spring

I met a strange kid. – Hayi

Oh, yeah? What were they like? – Spring

Just, he was a bit strange. I called him a kid, yet actually, he’s a year older than me. Funny, isn’t it? – Hayi

It is funny. – Spring

What are you doing right now? – Hayi

I just did some blood test. Currently, I’m walking home, eating a kebab on one hand and talking to you on the other. What are you doing? – Spring

I’m thinking. – Hayi

Thinking about what? – Spring

I think I’m weird, Spring. – Hayi

Can people like being alone, but hate the feeling of being lonely? – Hayi

Alone doesn’t mean lonely. – Spring

I figured. But it’s strange how loneliness exists. Especially for people like me. – Hayi

People like you… – Spring

I try so hard to push people out, and yet I feel lonely for doing it. Something about it feels uneven. Like, I know I don’t want to be with others, but why does it feel so sad? Like, I'm being left out, even though I did the leaving. It’s unfair how we were constructed like this. – Hayi

Introverts weren’t meant for the world, I guess. Maybe the Maker of the world had some technical issues about them. – Spring

Hayi found herself laughing at Spring’s message.

Whoever it was, behind that screen, behind those messages, Hayi felt his warmth. It was the kind of warmth that didn’t strike you like summer did. Hayi didn’t feel dizzy and hot and uncomfortable when she spoke to Spring. His warmth was something gentler and slower, like how the pink leaves would gradually turn green during the process of spring.

And that’s why he simply suited the name Spring

Tell me about the next chapter, Spring. I want to hear it. – Hayi

. . .

“She pushes people out,” Hanbin whispered to himself. “Yet, she wants to know more about me.”

Okay. – Spring

“Then what the hell does that make me, Hayi?” the boy scoffed, putting his phone down as he lit another cigarette.

As the smoke from his cigarette rose up to the air, Hanbin reminisced about his parents for a moment. He thought about the old them. When they were nice and didn’t seem like cold-blooded monsters. When his mother would plant a kiss on his forehead each time he set off for school. When Hanbin would fall asleep at the sofa, only to wake up in his bedroom the morning after, because his father had carried him there.

He thought about Kim Jennie, and how she used to speak to him through his open windows. How the first thing she’d do every morning was talk to Hanbin. Those times, indeed, made the boy feel nostalgic.

Those were the times when Hanbin felt like he belonged.

While talking to this stranger named Hayi, Hanbin realized that he’d been struck by that same feeling of belongingness.

And this scared the out of him.

. . .

champagne supernova // how many special people change?

“Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody.” ― Stephen Chbosky