The university campus in March was filled with cherry blossoms and a fluttering spring breeze. Standing alone under a cherry blossom tree in full bloom, feeling the wind, memories of a very long time ago suddenly scattered faintly. . . In the second year of middle school, Woo Jeyeon somehow gave off the vibe of a delinquent despite being just a young student. It was an immature yet pure time when the three of us, including Lee Boyoung who always greeted us brightly, hung out together. One day, he told me he dreamed of being an actor but smiled bitterly, saying it was realistically difficult. At that time, I wanted to say something cool, but such words didn't suit my personality.

'That's why we live, to achieve those dreams.'

After that day, for some reason, Jeyeon started acting in a way that made me cringe. Strange physical touches like back-hugging while pretending to put me in a headlock, resting his chin on my head, or rubbing his cheek against mine. When the classmates teased us about when we were going to start dating, my heart was already pounding for Jeyeon. That was my first love.

However, the precarious friendship between the three of mixed genders did not last long. One autumn day, because of a light question thrown in the classroom—

'Hey, when are you guys actually going to date?' 'Then shall we start by flirting?'

Boyoung's beaming suggestion, followed by Jeyeon's shocking answer.

'...Sure, whatever.'

But their flirting ended in just a week. Because Jeyeon coldly drew the line saying he 'preferred being friends,' Boyoung burst into tears, and I chose friendship, wiping the tears of my best friend Boyoung. After that, the relationship with Jeyeon was completely severed. In the third year, Jeyeon immigrated to the U.S., and Boyoung also transferred to a far-off place, bringing a tragic end to my first love and school days. . . Perhaps because of those memories, I entered the Film department at Seonmok University. Thinking I might see him on a filming set someday. And now, seven years later, the voice I least wanted to hear, yet desperately wanted to hear, echoed low behind my back.