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If there is anything Mina would pride herself in, it would be her memory, how she remembers everything so vividly, not forgetting a single thing about anything even if literal years had passed, and everyone else had let go.
Perhaps that is why she still remembers it all, the exact moments, the exact feelings, and the exact look on her lover’s face that one summer all those years ago—that one August where she had hoped and believed, only for it to go as quickly as it came, and take all those hopes of possibilities and happiness with it.
Her memories remained, like they always did, and this time, they were kept safe like one would a brand new record, shiny—polished every time a single dust tried to taint it.
Getting woken up by a friend could be annoying, especially when the sun was just starting to rise above the horizon, and the morning light had not touched her skin yet—the way it always did, starting at her hair at first, and then through her face, outlining the very tips of her eyelashes—had not even passed through her room’s curtains. Sana was always like this, and Mina thought that it was okay. Her patience had never worn thin, because Sana was her bestfriend, and she wouldn’t trade her for anything—not even for another full hour of slumber.
Although, she had thought that it was a different kind of deal if said friend was the very person she’d been harboring a crush on ever since she knew what the fluttering in her stomach meant.
Mina did not even have to open her eyes, she knew—right away—that it wasn’t Sana. Because Sana never wore a perfume this strong, her nostrils being filled with such a scent, and so when she opened her eyes, she was welcomed by the sight of Nayeon in a leather jacket looking at her with a mischievous smile.
“Nayeon?” Mina said, feeling as if she didn’t say it aloud for the world to confirm, it wouldn’t be real—Nayeon wouldn’t be there.
With a smirk—see, Mina really didn’t think her smile could get more mischievous than it was, but it did—Nayeon cocked her eyebrow, winking at her for good measure. “Missed me?”
“Oh my god, you’re here,” Mina had let out, scrambling to get the blankets off her limbs—to be able to go near Nayeon as much as the space had let her. She hesitated, for a moment, racked her brain questioning whether Nayeon would want her near, considering the time they had spent away from each other. It had been almost a year—Mina remembers counting—when Nayeon came back one summer morning, when Mina was not expecting anything at all. So she had hovered near Nayeon like a fool, with Nayeon looking at her expectantly, almost seeming like she was waiting for what she was going to do next.
Turned out, she was waiting, because Nayeon’s voice echoed around the stillness of her room, head tilted in a manner Mina couldn’t help but find cute, in spite of the clothes she was wearing that all screamed ‘badass’ and ‘cool girl from the city’. For a moment, Mina felt like it was still her—hoped that it was still Nayeon and nothing had changed.
“Come closer. I want to hug you, you know.”
The hug felt like something familiar, yet Mina couldn’t quite put a finger on what felt entirely new—it was Nayeon, and Nayeon would always be familiar, but the cologne she used to wear was replaced with a much more expensive perfume, and the jacket she was wearing pressed too hard against her skin, no longer as soft as the sweaters Nayeon used to wear, knitted and soothing to the skin.
Later, after Nayeon had asked her to take a shower, her mom had peeked her head between the door and its frame, a teasing smile on her face that Mina hoped Nayeon hadn't seen. She hurried, not wanting to activate Nayeon’s impatience.
Taking a shower had always been therapeutic to Mina, but that day, she remembers exactly how it was clouded by overthinking—the anxiety of thinking about boring Nayeon had been the only thing on her mind. So when she was done, fresh in her new clothes that she picked exactly for the occasion she absolutely did not see coming—no sarcasm here—Nayeon said something that had her blushing like a high school girl.
At the time it didn’t make sense. She was almost in her second year of college, but looking back now, it dawns on her that Nayeon’s always had that effect anyway.
“You’re a lot prettier now.”
And really, the way Nayeon said it—with a click of her tongue—Mina was sure it was meant to take at least half of her life. When did Nayeon get so flirty? It’s amazing what the city does to people.
“Glad you think so,” Mina said in such a small voice, looking down at her worn leather sandals. But Nayeon let out a quiet sound of displeasure leaving her with no other choice but to look up. Nayeon never liked her looking down on herself like that.
Nayeon scrunched her nose. “Have always thought so, actually.”
Then she jumped off the bed, took Mina’s hands and led her out of her room. There was a glint in Nayeon’s eyes and Mina was sure she mirrored it on her own.
She had a clear view of Nayeon’s back. Her neck was covered in sweat, and she thought it was only normal for her to suggest that Nayeon take it off. “You should take that off.”
Nayeon turned her head to look at her, eyebrows questioning. So Mina continues, “It’s hot here in town, y’know. I promise you, you’ll still look cool.”
“Should I hold you up to that promise?”
Mina stopped for a moment, feeling a light tug in her arm at the sudden movement. “Mhm, I think you should.”
Nayeon squinted her eyes at her, and Mina had no choice but to let out the laugh that was bubbling in her stomach. It felt good, being able to be herself around Nayeon.
“Tell you what, I’d stop hanging out with you if you start to lose the ‘cool-city-girl’ vibe,” Mina offered once again.
When Nayeon replied with an “Alrighty then,” she tugged at Mina’s arms for the second time, leading her to the house she knew very well—Sana’s. To visit her perhaps, but before Mina’s thoughts managed to run a hundred miles again—to think about all the possibilities of Nayeon thinking she’s a loser—Nayeon’s voice stopped her, “She actually knew I was coming back. But I wanted to surprise you. To see how you’d react.”
For a moment Mina had wondered if Nayeon knew of her crush, but then again if she didn’t, she’d be stupid, because according to Sana, everyone and their mothers knew, because Mina has these tell-tale eyes that spoke too much of her emotions.
It’s something she still has to this day.
She watched as Nayeon removed her leather jacket, not understanding why Nayeon taking it off was giving her so much relief, and in retrospect, she would come to find that the jacket had held meanings in a way no one else but her would understand.
“Feel better?” Mina asked. She didn’t know who the question was meant for—Nayeon or herself—but Nayeon’s answer, either way, was enough for the both of them.
“Yeah.”
Then, Nayeon smiled, because that’s what Nayeon always did, and maybe it was one of the many reasons why Mina’s heart flutters every time Nayeon visits her thoughts in the first place.
Mina remembers working at the mall.
It was a small building half an hour away from home—newly opened and owned by the family that ran most of the things in their town, but it was freedom of its own kind, and she had wanted to earn her own money at the time, not wanting her parents to give her more than she needed.
Perhaps she liked working there, passing time until the sun could barely be seen through the fourth floor, but Nayeon came back—albeit only for the summer—and every second spent away from her felt like a second too much, and— and she just wanted to go home.
To see Nayeon. What else, she thought.
It was funny, the way all thoughts of her wanting to go home multiplied the second she saw Nayeon standing near a rack filled with stuffed toys.
“Nayeon?” She called. The answer came immediately, and it was in the form of Nayeon turning her head to wink at her. She wasn’t wearing her leather jacket, leaving her with only her white shirt and black skinny jeans. Mina thought she looked good, but then again, when did she ever not? Still, it was like whiplash, seeing Nayeon in these clothes she never thought the past Nayeon would wear. Past Nayeon with her pastel sweaters and khaki pants and—
Nayeon walked over to her, holding a stuffed toy that was twice the size of her palm. “Would this be enough to buy me some of your time? Today?”
Mina almost replied right then that she could give her a leaf—literally anything —and she would give her whatever she would ask for, but Mina, thankfully, had enough self-preservation—perhaps way too much of it—in her system that she didn’t, and instead settled for a much healthier reply, or at least that’s what she’d told herself. “Depends. Would you buy two?”
“Meet me behind the mall.”
Three.
Nayeon ended up buying three. ‘To complete the family,’ she’d said. It didn’t make sense, and it still doesn’t make sense until now, but Mina left her job earlier than usual, lying to her boss and giving him an excuse for the first time ever since she’d started working there.
Mina remembers the feeling all too clearly.
It felt liberating.
It was hot, the feeling of Nayeon’s black shirt underneath her palm. They were by the sea, and not many people were around as they went at a dead hour. A couple swimming in the sea had caught her attention, calling to her mind the questions she’d been wanting to ask Nayeon ever since she’d first arrived.
“They’re cute,” Mina said. It wasn’t direct, because she simply couldn’t be that bold. She remembers feeling Nayeon’s shirt bunch beneath her hand as she drew a star on it.
Nayeon lifted her head up, looking at the couple in question, before letting her head fall back down on the mat. “Would be nice to have someone, don’t you think?”
It was the only answer Mina needed. Nayeon was single—Nayeon wants someone.
All Mina wanted was for that someone to be her.
Her mind never forgets.
It never erases memories, and if in some cases she wishes it does, this is one of the memories she’s certain she wants to keep for a lifetime—every moment, every detail of everything that’s ever occurred in it.
Being on a roof had not been foreign to her, no. Living in a small town meant exploring every bit of it she could, so going on every part of the house wasn't anything out of the ordinary. She had done it before, when Nayeon still hadn’t gone out of town, when it was the three of them—when it was her and Nayeon and Sana conquering their little town to make the most fun out of each night.
She had missed this, and some part of her still misses it, all this reminiscing just makes her miss it all over again.
But night outs on roofs will never be the same now, because they will always remind her of that one summer night, where everything about Nayeon and her had changed for the better.
It happened a little more than a week after Nayeon came back.
“What’s good about the city?” Mina remembers asking, looking at the horizon, seeing the never-ending fields filled with fireflies and many other different bugs—you could hear the crickets and cicadas chirping even from a distance.
She wasn’t sure then if her question was what started it, or if it had always been an inevitable thing to happen to the both of them. It was the only thing she could ask about the city, or maybe—Mina thinks now—it was the only question that didn't scare her, because thoughts of Nayeon leaving, though unavoidable and bound to happen at one point in their summer, always plagued her mind.
Although she preferred facts and being prepared for things beforehand, with Nayeon, she preferred not knowing. With Nayeon, she preferred the unknown and the thrill and the excitement that came along with everything that is her. Even if that time, she knew Nayeon going back to the city wasn’t at all exciting, but sad—heartbreaking.
Nayeon played with the can of beer in her hand, swirling what was left of its content in the tin can she would leave at the edge of the roof before they came down. “A lot of things.”
“I see,” Mina replied, lying down on her back, debating whether to look at the stars or the person right beside her. “So much better than the countryside, then?”
“Nope,” Nayeon’s answer came fast. “Definitely not.”
It made Mina turn her head in less than a full second, because she definitely wasn’t expecting that answer. She had expected something else—a thousand explanations as to why the city wins in every aspect, a story perhaps, but instead she got a denial.
Maybe— maybe she shouldn’t have turned her head, because she could see Nayeon’s eyes, dark and intense, staring at her with the obvious intent of making her lose her mind. What else could Nayeon’s reason have been if it was not purely to drive her insane?
“Why?” She had barely let it out when Nayeon put a hand on her cheek, softly caressing every inch of skin it passed through.
“Because…” Nayeon moved her body, leaning on her elbow as she put her face closer to Mina’s.
Mina remembers it all, the way her lungs were burning, almost as if she had just run a marathon, and she also remembers what came after—the way Nayeon had looked down at her lips, her thumb ghosting above her mole a mere millimeter away. “The city doesn’t have this.”
Then she felt it. And she still remembers it.
Nayeon’s lips on hers—confident and certain, without a trace of hesitance to it. She still remembers the heat of Nayeon’s palm against her nape, pulling her closer to her body in desperation to take in all of her. The faint taste of beer on her tongue, and the way Nayeon chuckled when she took in the sight of a certainly dazed Mina. Though Mina also remembers the way said chuckle died down in her throat when Mina pulled on the collar of her black shirt, successfully shutting up any attempts of another one with her lips.
Mina remembers the night sky and how beautiful it had been.
Mina remembers every detail of what Nayeon had worn.
But above all, she remembers how she felt when Nayeon brushed her nose against hers, and how she felt when Nayeon smiled at her like she was the best part of being back home.
Though in hindsight Mina should have realized that the town wasn’t Nayeon’s home anymore.
Her heart is in the city, and Nayeon took Mina’s with her with such ease there was nothing to blame but the circumstance and the timing.
Mina had received warnings from Sana—all rooted in concern and worry—because according to her, what kind of bestfriend would Sana have been if she did not try protecting Mina’s heart?
She doesn’t know why they had not stuck with her and taught her something, or maybe in the back of her mind she knew exactly why, and that was because all coherent and rational thoughts seemed to get ignored when it came to Nayeon.
Sana seemed to know as well, but who was she to hinder Mina from experiencing happiness—albeit a temporary one at that?
Mina couldn’t blame herself for that.
She wouldn’t blame herself now. None of it would make sense, as Mina had enjoyed every bit of that summer with Nayeon, even if it did leave her hurting in the end.
“You know she’s not here to stay,” she remembers Sana telling her this the day after Nayeon kissed her. It sounded like more of a warning—a statement—than a question. She had considered asking how she knew about the change between them, but one look at the mirror and it was enough to make her realize that Sana had always known it was bound to happen. It just so happened that she was smiling more than she would each morning.
Mina isn’t even sure if those were her exact words, but she’s certain the words she had used held the same meaning.
Sana was scared for her.
Her bestfriend didn’t want her heart to break.
Mina had only smiled in return, poking at the cake they were eating as Sana stared at her for a good minute. Then, she gave up. Resignation loomed in the atmosphere as Sana smiled back and nodded in understanding.
Leaving work early had become an incident that happened way too many times for it to be called a ‘one-time thing’.
In fact, it happened a little more times than the ‘usual’ Mina definitely would have liked. She had found it exciting, though, a little getaway each time, and the best part of each was always her.
One exact day of leaving work early had stuck with her.
It wasn’t planned, and it certainly wasn’t Nayeon’s idea, and perhaps that is why she remembers it clearly. But then again, when has she ever forgotten anything about that summer?
Or would the right question be—when has she ever forgotten anything about Im Nayeon?
The light roaring of the car engine and the way her wheels effortlessly tore through the pavement of the streets—she still feels it in her veins, as if she’s in the exact moment. She had considered beeping once to let Nayeon know of her presence, but she thought that it would be way too uncharacteristic of her so she had sent a text instead.
Nayeon was out of her door in an instant, not needing a word from Mina to get in the car, shared smiles and giggles echoing through the empty vehicle that smelled so much like everything and nothing at once.
She didn’t know how to describe it before. She still doesn’t know now. Mina remembers how it smelled like flowers and a little bit of soil—probably stuck in the flooring of her car—but the one smell that was overpowering them all was Nayeon’s perfume that she still hasn’t found even now, after years of searching what it was because Nayeon had never told her.
“Is this rebellion, Ms. Myoui?” Nayeon teased, and really, Mina still remembers the way her skin flushed.
She shook her head, laughing along as Nayeon prodded on more about her rebellious streaks, thinking about how everything was perfect and how she wanted it to remain the same way.
“Where do you plan on taking me?”
“To…” Mina’s breath hitched as Nayeon held her hand against her lips, kissing it softly. Her brain had gone haywire, and Mina thought she wasn’t to blame. Mina thinks she wasn’t to blame. “Anywhere.”
A giggle echoed again at the same time her hand had dropped onto the stick shift. She drove mindlessly until they reached and unreached the mountains, the beach, and their houses.
On that very same night, they found themselves in Nayeon’s room, skin against skin, body against body.
She woke up with their limbs twisted in bedsheets and her skin smelling faintly of Nayeon’s perfume. She woke up with the sight of Nayeon trying her best to give her a smile despite the way her eyes were struggling with the sunlight that had invaded her room.
Perhaps it happened more than once, and maybe no one else in the world beside the two of them knew, but each night was something different—and each night was something Mina has been unable to forget.
But it wasn’t perfect.
Mina knew this. As much as it felt like it was —her and Nayeon—she knew nothing about it was perfect. Because it was real, and it would be real, for a period of time, and then they would go back to nothing.
Because Nayeon isn’t here to stay.
However, even if she did know , the night Nayeon had told her she was leaving in the next morning felt unprecedented and unwarned. She remembers thinking that maybe she should’ve seen it coming. Should have expected it sooner because Nayeon had been wearing her leather jacket again the past few days.
She thought and asked and questioned when that leather jacket had started to signify the difference between Nayeon in town and Nayeon in the city.
Mina hated it.
She had wondered for a brief moment why she let herself get stupid enough to let her guard down and believe that Nayeon was the same Nayeon, and that there was ever a chance of her staying, when deep down she knew that there wasn’t, and her hope was merely hanging by a thread the whole time.
Nayeon doesn’t belong in their town.
Nayeon belongs in the city.
So when she said goodbye, Mina simply kissed her, with Nayeon kissing her back. There was no contesting, no crying, and shouting, or heated arguments that broke out because she knew—she knew that whatever she did—or whatever she may have done, wouldn’t have changed the fact that Nayeon was not going to stay. Nayeon simply wouldn’t.
“I’ll see you again,” is what Nayeon had said.
But Mina knew better, and Mina knew that it held no meaning, and it was merely a collection of words strung together to make the situation better.
Nayeon is a free soul who wasn’t meant to be stuck in one town.
And maybe to one person.
Memories stay, but so does the pain that comes along with it.
Mina knows this all too well.
Because she remembers chancing upon an instagram story and feeling the walls close in on her, a whole world she had built in the summer crumbling around her, like it was never meant to be there in the first place—like it had an expiration date the moment it had started, and the worst part of it all was that she knew, but she had wanted to risk it anyway.
It wasn’t like seeing it had been surprising—maybe a part of her had been expecting it, but it didn’t really help with the pain, no matter how much she had wanted it to. No matter how many times she’d seen it coming, the cutting pain that she still feels—to this day—when she thinks about it hard enough would have probably hurt as much as if she didn’t.
“I told you to stop doing this to yourself,” Sana had told her, voice never patronizing because Sana was never like that. Sana always wanted her to feel okay. Sana always wanted the best for her—even if she never lacked in giving her warnings that this was bound to happen. “It’s social media and it’s shit. Who even cares about instagram these days?”
Funny, Mina thought. Only because the statement left Sana’s mouth and Sana’s anything but a hater of social media. She likes it and spends a lot of time on it, but she appreciated the effort her friend went through to try to make her feel better.
“They look cute together,” Mina tried to lighten the mood, only for her to realize that it did the exact opposite.
“Yeah, I’m stopping you right there.” Sana snatched the phone away from her hold, wrapping her in an embrace that was supposed to be comforting—and for a moment, she berated herself for wishing to be in Nayeon’s arms instead. It didn’t erase any of the pain she had felt, but she was happy Sana never judged her for anything. She was happy that Sana had been there.
The movement of her head wasn’t all that smooth, what with Sana’s shoulders pushing against it, but she was nodding, sniffing, and—she felt like a kid, but she spoke and spilled her heart out. “So I was just one of her flings. And I was dumb enough to hope for something more when we’ve all seen this coming.”
It didn’t feel like an admission , because from day 1, the both of them had known—even Nayeon—and maybe even everyone. But hope is as beautiful as it is cutting, and Mina had experienced both sides of it.
“Don’t say that.” It’s rare—Sana being this angry, but Mina knew that if she was in her position, she would’ve felt the same. She wanted to let Sana feel what she needed to feel, because she couldn’t find it in her to cry as much as her feelings wanted her to, couldn’t find it in her to be angry at Nayeon, only the circumstance she’s in.
“I’ll be okay.”
With a stroke of her hair, Sana replied, “I know.”
She did become okay, though it took her quite a while.
Mina’s okay now, and that’s what matters, even if it’s the good parts she always intentionally reminisces.
Considerate.
Mina thinks the world is considerate, because that was also the last time she’d seen Nayeon.
It’s true what they say about friends—or perhaps people that are more —and drifting apart. Though they had stayed connected on social media—and honestly, she could barely call it that, because they never once exchanged direct messages—through the years, Mina found herself following more people, her timeline flooded with their posts, and soon, Nayeon’s and Nayeon were out of sight.
There was nothing to forgive.
Nayeon didn’t do anything wrong. All of what happened in August was fun, but it wasn’t like Nayeon led her into believing that they were in a committed relationship. Mina knew exactly what they were, though she still cannot quite put a name on it, a summer fling, maybe?
Perhaps it’s funny that she went farther, not only out of town but out of the country, living and working alone in an entirely different place just like Nayeon had been. It’s been years—and she rarely thinks about her—but when she does, it’s filled with smiles and the faint smell of the summer air and the sea.
That summer is something she will never forget.
Nayeon is something that will always be there, in the corners of her memories, a reminder that once, she had something nice, even though it had left her so fast.
She’s standing in the middle of the boutique, looking for a new coat for the winter when she chances upon a leather jacket on sale, one that looks entirely familiar to ignore. It looks exactly the same as the one Nayeon had, or that’s what her eyes told her thirteen meters away from it. So she walks over, takes it in her hands at the same time another person does because she feels them tug the same way she did.
Is fate real? A million dollar question that’s never been answered by anyone.
Destiny is out there to get her, because her gaze meets an all too familiar pair of eyes, wide and shocked at the sight of her face—her stance, her existence.
“Mina?” Nayeon asks, mouth breaking into a wide grin. Nayeon lets go of the leather jacket, the whole weight of it dropping onto Mina’s hold. She’s grinning like crazy, all teeth and pretty lips as she waits, taking all of Mina in, she supposes.
Maybe it wasn’t just her that was so hung up, after all.
It’s been way too long for her to act distant, to act like she’s doing it for self-preservation, so she greets her right away and doesn’t pretend not to recognize her. “Nayeon.”
She’s certain they have the same grin, but she isn’t looking at Nayeon’s face anymore—she’s trying her hardest to take Nayeon in—the way her hair isn’t reaching her shoulders, the way she’s back to knitted sweaters and khaki pants… She’s hit by a wave of nostalgia and warmth and sea air and everything that is good. Everything that makes her feel free.
Mina’s figured it out a long time ago—it’ll always be like this when it comes to Nayeon.
“I didn’t know you were here,” Nayeon says once they’d reached the quiet cafe Mina had suggested for their impromptu date—if Mina could even call it that.
“I live here.” She sees the look of shock painted on Nayeon’s face. Mina smiles, and only the corners of her lips turn up, teeth not showing. “Have been, for the past seven months. How about you? Visiting a friend… a— someone , perhaps?”
She thinks it’s stupid that she’s making it seem that she’s interested again—because of course she is, but she’s determined not to let it be the kind of dumb love they had when they were younger. They’re much older now—they’ve grown quite a lot—but she pushes away all the thoughts swarming her mind upon hearing Nayeon’s reply, focuses on the now and what, or who’s in front of her.
“No, I…” Nayeon starts, sipping at her cup. Mina notes that Nayeon drinks coffee now, something she’d hated years ago. Nayeon continues, placing the cup back at her table, a little droplet of coffee staining the coaster under it. “I don’t have someone. But I—I live here too. Just moved the other month actually.”
And it was a revelation. Because although Mina had stopped hoping all those years ago, another kind of hope is starting to settle in the pit of her stomach, calling to every corner of her brain that’s dedicated to Nayeon.
“This was unexpected.” It was all Mina can say. It’s Nayeon’s turn to do something, and Mina would let her and try again if the interest shows itself.
Nayeon looks—and really looks into her. The same way she’d looked at Mina that summer, the same Nayeon Mina keeps in her memories for times she’d like to remember something warm.
“I’d call it a pleasant surprise.” Nayeon smiles, no hint of mischief, just warmth and sincerity and everything Mina had been hoping for. “Mind if I walk you home?”
“Not at all.”
All those years ago, in the month of August, Mina had felt something magical that was sadly temporary. She was left with a broken heart she had to mend on her own.
But maybe —she stops herself from thinking it.
Mina tells herself that now, there is certainty, and if fate was real, then they’re on the right track.
A new hope.
Now she’s sure August isn’t that bad.
Because in that August, Nayeon wasn’t hers.
But in this August, she’s positive they have all the time in the world.