A year had passed since then, and you couldn't say Sunny's life had changed much, no. She was still the same Korean language student who completed her assignments diligently. But something had happened. Sunny had a journal where she wrote every day.
Write down your dreams, and they will come true.
She loved Keun Chan's music. His songs were so beautiful that they brought out her most sensitive side. She loved singing, and it could be said she was quite good at it. She dreamed of singing a song with him someday. Yes, it was a rather utopian dream, since he was a famous artist living in South Korea, and she was just a regular student living in America, but it didn't hurt to imagine it.
But despite all that, there was something about Keun Chan that continued to unsettle her. When she watched his interviews, his TV shows, and his concerts, he was the most charismatic and funny young man she had ever seen. But she couldn't help but always see that sadness hidden behind his laughter and something dark beyond his eyes.
But…
Did it even matter? Why did any of it matter? It would be better to simply listen to his music like any normal fan and stop thinking about these silly things no one else ever thought about.
She finished writing in her journal, putting down everything she felt that night, and closed her notebook. She was alone in her room. The only light was from her lamp. She was about to go to bed when the light of the full moon called her to the window. The night was beautiful and full of stars. A cool breeze blew against her face. She took a deep breath as her eyes scanned the horizon. Suddenly, something in the sky caught her attention. A very bright star was set apart from the others; it was alone. Its brightness was greater, standing out in the vast sky, but it was alone. Suddenly, the scene felt rather mysterious to her.
—It's incredible how even people who don't know each other can be connected.
She ran to get her journal and pencil and went to the window. While looking at the star, she decided to write down her words.
—The star is the place where we meet because I know that the same star I am looking at now is the same one peeking into your window every night—She paused and continued writing as she spoke—At least we have something that connects us— She sighed—If only I could help you. Everyone seems to ignore what's happening to you. No one seems to care as long as you're ready to shine with your smile at every show. Everyone sees the exterior, but no one knows what's happening in the heart— Then she looked at the star —I want to help you. I don't know how, but I will. I'll find you, and I'll help you.
—Are you really talking to yourself?— a voice pulled her from her thoughts aloud.
—Claudia?—she said, turning around.
—Did you already forget about the sleepover? Sorry for being late, but I had to help my mom with chores, and I finished quite late. But the good news is that tomorrow is Saturday, so we don't have class, and we can sleep in. By the way, what were you talking to yourself about? Don't tell me you're obsessing over Keun Chan again.
Sunny bit her lip.
—Oh, Sunny, you're still stuck on those fantasies of yours. You're going to end up seeing a psychiatrist if you keep this up, girl. Keep it simple and enjoy his songs.
—It's just that you don't understand. He's not okay. I don't know... I can't stop thinking about it. It's quite strange. Haven't you ever felt like you had a mission to help someone?
—Yes, but I'd help someone who really needs it. Not imagining someone needs it without being sure if it's real or not. That sounds crazy. Totally illogical.
—Even so, I still believe in my opinion.
—Okay, but… do you think you're actually going to be able to do anything? He's famous and lives far away… but most importantly… he's famous. He's totally unreachable. So forget about it. Let's be realistic… you'll never reach him—Her friend snatched the journal from her and opened it to the first page— "Write down your dreams, and they will come true," —she laughed—Sunny… let's just start the sleepover—she said, putting her friend's journal, still open, on the desk.
The sleepover lasted until half-past eleven at night, then they went to sleep. Sunny's journal remained open on the desk.
Write down your dreams, and they will come true.
The clock struck midnight.