It’s a once-a-year-every-year summer-esque relationship they have going on. Taeyeon knows close to nothing about Sunny—she’s pretty sure, though, that Sunny knows more about her than she shows. They always cross paths at the week-long festivities at the small coastal city, being it completely accidental

(It’s the second time Sunny’s ever been to the festival at this city, Taeyeon’s glad she’s able to spot her in the middle of the crowd. She has an awfully improvised, falling apart mermaid costume; her face, shoulders and belly: all fully bare and full of silver and blue glitter, blue cellophane envelops her legs—Taeyeon knows everything will fall apart within minutes as she dances in the middle of the street, Sunny also knows this, she’s wearing a bikini top and shorts to prevent further problems.

Taeyeon lets the crowd lead and take her to Sunny. They fall into place, bodies glued and dancing together, too close than normal and without sharing a word, save for the lyrics being screamed from the top of their lungs. It’s all it takes before they fall again into their strange weekend-only once-a-year relationship where they exclusively kiss each other and spend their time together in Taeyeon’s small apartment and sharing her bed before going back to the street party and live shows.

However, every time Taeyeon sees Sunny so free in the crowd, dancing and singing with a cold beer in hand and sweat falling from her neck, she can’t help but wonder who she truly is outside of this context—Sunny’s day-to-day life, if she works or studies, works and studies—and every time Taeyeon forgets to ever ask about private lives, too busy enjoying the moment and each other.

By the last day, when Sunny enters the transfer bus to go back to her city, Taeyeon feels empty as she walks alongside the shore, regretting everything she couldn’t find it in herself to ask—phone number, social media accounts, if she likes her back—, only hoping to see her the next year.),

or programmed beforehand

(“Next year,” Sunny says, laughing a tad bit too drunk to remember even the next day. Pink-glittered body glowing under the moon and streetlamps at two in the morning, music still bumming behind them at the main square. It’s their last night together, walking side-by-side back to Taeyeon’s place, “let’s meet at the bar we first met. But only at the third day.”

Taeyeon can only laugh at Sunny’s slurring, she stopped doubting Sunny’s memory not long ago—after they met by chance at the fourth day and, in a drunken haze, saying she waited for her for two hours. She laughs bitterly now, meeting on third day means having their fun befor