Dear Diary,

It’s Youngjae. I’m tired. It’s about half past three in the morning, and I feel as though I may just fall asleep, hunched over the night light and drool coating the cover of Mark’s notebook. I’ll try my best to complete this entry before knocking out, but no promises.

I managed to meet up with one of my high school friends today, because he happened to fly over to Seoul for two weeks for a short vacation with his friends. We agreed to meet up after a short phone call, and the memories hit me like a wave. It had been so long since I had met one of my school mates, since normally if you were from Mokpo, you don’t leave the district. You grew up and lived there your entire life. That being said, I rarely go any chance to reconnect with my neighbours or elementary school buddies. Even our events in Mokpo didn’t last long enough for me to drop by their houses for a cup of coffee.

We both broke away from our separate group of friends and parallel worlds, and sat down at a ramyeon house somewhere within the streets of Konkuk University. I had taken the subway, and while it was warm and stuffy in the summer day, the nights begged to differ. Tugging the mask higher up my face, I felt the wind nip at the exposed skin, and I brought my hands up to shield my forehead from the chilly air. Following the directions he had sent me, I weaved my way past the T-junctions and gravelly pavements, until I found myself standing outside a shop with a large banner praising the owner’s secret recipe.

Pulling the door open, I stepped inside and pulled my beanie off my head, clutching it tightly in my slightly frozen hands, trying to thaw my fingers.

“Table for how many?”

I turned to my right to see a petite, middle-aged woman with a notepad in her small hands, her pencil ready poised and ready to take down anything I may have had to say. I opened my mouth to tell her that I was actually meeting a friend here, but I heard a familiar voice shout my name above the chatter of other customers, so I pointed in his direction and bowed curtly before walking over to him.

“Long time no see, Youngjae.” He beamed at me, and stood up to give me a big hug and pat me firmly on the back, before we both took our seats.

“Yeah, man.” I replied, taking the menu from his outstretched hands. His fingers pointed to one of the square pictures in the top row, and I raised my eyebrows at him inquisitively.

“You have to try this one. I’m not even kidding; I would go on Star King if I had enough talent to make this bowl of heaven.”

“You’ve been in Seoul for like, what, three days?” I folded my arms, genuinely impressed.

“And I’ve eaten it about eight times already, so trust me. It’s great.”

“Alright.”

We talked, laughed, ate and then, talked some more. It was enlightening and a great escape, to see someone I had grown up with after I had cut ties with my hometown for so long. The last time I had probably seen him was during our high school graduation, and even then I wasn’t able to give a proper goodbye, because right after I collected my diploma and took a picture with my parents, I took the city bus to straight to the airport.

He told me lots of things. About how he had gotten a girlfriend after he threw his diploma cap into the sky, about how they had promised to stay in love even after going to different colleges, and about how he broke up with her after finding out that she had cheated on him. He told me about his new hobby, and his fascination with barbecues. He lamented about how there were not even barbecues, in the summer or the winter, because apparently everyone in his dorm thought that it was either too hot or cold for barbecued meat. He told me about how he had finally started to get interested in his course, and maybe he might even be okay with settling in a job that centred around engineering for the rest of his life, even if he had signed up for it on a whim.

The ramyeon had begun to get cold, so we picked up our chopsticks and momentarily halted our conversation to dig into the food. After eating our fill, we let the silence between us get chased away by the chatter and conversation from the neighbouring tables. The mood was light-hearted, the ambience warm. The noodles were spicy, leaving a burning sensation at the back of my tongue. I picked the soggy cucumber slices out of the soup, banishing them into the small dipping tray where my serving of pickled radish lay untouched as well.

“So, what’s it like?” He asked me, after dabbing his mouth with a paper napkin. “I know you probably get this question lots of times, but what’s it like being in the entertainment industry?”

I swallowed a gulp of ice water, allowing myself some time to think while trying to regain some sense of my taste buds, and set the cup back on the table. “It’s interesting sometimes, but it gets a little too busy for me. Not that I’m disliking the endless activities scheduled for months to come, but I have so little time to take it all in, it barely seems like it’s sinking in my mind at all. I feel like it’s a giant blur that’s whizzing past so quickly that I’ve begun to get tired of trying to keep up.”

He nodded, as though he had fully comprehended every single word I had said, and reached for his wallet for some bills. I reached out a hand to stop him, but he protested and paid anyway. Before we parted, we stood outside the shop, back on the streets where the wind had mostly died down, although the night air was still chilly. We both put our gloves on, thinking of how to bid each other farewell.

“Youngjae-ah.” He spoke first, and I listened patiently for him to complete his train of thought. “I can’t say I’ve never been jealous of how different your lifestyle is right now, but at the same time, I’m kind of relieved that the most stressful thing in my life right now is project deadlines and failing my course.”

I stuffed my hands into my pockets of my thin cardigan, subtly hinting that I was not as well-protected from the weather as he was.

“No offence, but I think to get to where you are now, you had to grow up too quickly. You bypassed quite a lot of things, and the transition from high school to university is something that I would never want to miss."

“Yeah, well… too late now.” I laughed awkwardly, curling my fingers in my pockets.

We parted soon after, as he walked towards the main road to call for a taxi while I trudged in the direction of the bus stop just in time to catch the last bus. It was a quiet and drastic change, sitting in muted silence under fluorescent lights and on torn and tattered seats. The engine punctuated the journey with long whirring sounds, screeching to a stop once in a while in front of traffic lights.

When the streets became more familiar to my eyes under the night lights, I pressed the bell and alighted, bowing slightly to the bus driver before walking towards the apartment building in front of me. The security guard paid no attention to me, continuing to watch his movie on his tablet as I walked through the double doors to the lift. The building we were currently residing in was recently refurnished, with new paint on the walls as well as a new set of tiles covering the previous stained ones. The new wallpapers failed to hide how old the building truly was though. There were snippets and corners peeking out, yellowed walls with scruff and dirt that had been sticking to the wall for so long that it could not be washed off.

I got off on my floor, and as quietly as I could, turned the key in the keyhole and snuck into the apartment. Kicking off my shoes, I tiptoed across the walkway, only to find Mark standing in the dimly lit kitchen, wearing a tank top, sweat pants and bright red socks.

“Cold?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at his strange attire.

“Not really.” He answered, recovering from getting startled from my sudden intrusi