The sun hung zily in the sky, casting golden streaks through the dense trees that lined the edges of the grand estate. It was a summer like any other for Lyn Choi—the privileged daughter of the Choi family—spent within the towering walls of their sprawling mansion. The gardens, neatly trimmed and fragrant with freshly bloomed roses, stretched endlessly, a kingdom that belonged solely to her. Yet despite the abundance of wealth and luxury, she often felt like a prisoner in her own home, guarded by an army of house staff, private tutors, and overbearing parents who had her future pnned down to the st detail.

  The grand halls of the Choi mansion were polished to perfection, reflecting the golden glow of the evening chandeliers. The air smelled of delicate jasmine, the signature scent Lyn’s mother insisted on filling their home. Lyn Choi, dressed in an elegant white dress, sat near the rge window in the drawing room, watching the world outside—a world she was rarely allowed to be part of.

  She sat on the marble steps of their terrace, idly watching the workers scurry about in preparation for one of her mother’s eborate garden parties. She let out a soft sigh, twirling a loose strand of her neatly combed hair. Another long, uneventful day awaited her—until she saw someone unfamiliar among the usual faces.

  A girl, her age, wearing a simple faded dress and worn-out sandals, was clutching the hand of an elderly woman. The woman, Mi Sook Yoon, known as Madam Yoon, was one of their longest-serving housekeepers. The girl stood awkwardly beside her, eyes wide with something that looked like both curiosity and hesitation. Her hair, unkempt and wild, framed a face that was noticeably different from those Lyn usually saw at her school—where every child was a reflection of their wealthy upbringing, perfectly groomed and exuding privilege.

  Lyn tilted her head. “Who’s that?” she asked one of the maids passing by.

  “That’s Yna Yoon, Madam Yoon’s granddaughter,” the maid replied. “She’ll be staying with Madam Yoon for a while.”

  Lyn’s brows furrowed. She had never heard of Madam Yoon having a granddaughter. But before she could question it further, the elderly woman approached, giving her a slight bow.

  “Miss Lyn,” Madam Yoon said gently. “This is my grand daughter. She’ll be helping me around the house.”

  Helping? Lyn blinked. Did that mean she was a worker? Someone her parents had hired? But Yna looked like she was the same age as her.

  “You’re small,” Lyn commented bluntly. “Are you really going to work?”

  Yna looked down at her shoes, silent. Madam Yoon squeezed her shoulder. “She’s just here to help a little. I can’t leave her alone at home.”

  Something about the girl intrigued Lyn. Maybe it was the way she clutched the hem of her dress nervously or the way she avoided meeting her eyes. Before Lyn could ask more, a deep voice interrupted.

  “What’s your name, child?”

  Lyn’s father, Executive Director Choi, stood at the entrance of the garden, his eyes fixed on Yna. His usually stern face softened for just a moment, but his gaze held something strange—recognition, or perhaps, a ghost of a memory.

  Yna bowed again. “I’m Yna Yoon, sir.”

  Executive Director Choi didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stared at her as if seeing someone else standing in her pce. Lyn had never seen her father react this way before.

  Then, after a pause, he finally spoke. “Join us for dinner.”

  Yna’s eyes widened, uncertain if she had heard correctly. Lyn, equally surprised, looked up at her father, but he was already walking back inside.

  Curiosity piqued Lyn.

  Yna’s dark hair was neatly tied back, and though her clothes were simple, she carried an air of quiet grace. Yna Yoon, she spoke, but only in her mind. Lyn actually had seen her a few times before but had never spoken to her.

  Something about Yna intrigued Lyn. She wasn’t like the polished, mannered children she met at her school. She wasn’t trying to impress Lyn or win her favor. She just existed—calm, quiet, real.

  An Unusual Dinner

  That evening, Yna found herself seated at an opulent dining table, the likes of which she had only seen from afar. The long, polished mahogany table gleamed under the soft golden glow of an intricate chandelier. The ptes were made of fine porcein, rimmed with delicate gold accents, and the silverware looked more expensive than anything she had ever touched before. Crystal wine gsses, filled with sparkling juice for the children, caught the light beautifully, refracting tiny rainbows onto the tablecloth.

  A feast was id out before them—perfectly seared steaks, delicate seafood dishes, aromatic soups, and an array of side dishes arranged like artwork. There were baskets of freshly baked bread, golden and crusty, and a selection of desserts that looked too beautiful to eat.

  Yna sat stiffly, unsure of how to act. She had never eaten in such an elegant setting, and the sheer grandeur of it made her hesitant to touch anything. But Lyn’s mother, Mrs. Choi, smiled warmly at her, breaking the tension.

  “You must be nervous,” she said gently. “But don’t be. You’re our guest.”

  Yna nodded politely, her hands folded neatly on her p.

  Mrs. Choi continued, “Your features are very delicate, Yna. You’re quite beautiful.”

  Yna blushed, ducking her head. “T-Thank you, ma’am.”

  Executive Director Choi, usually a man of few words, surprised Lyn by speaking more than usual. “How long have you been living with your grandmother?” he asked, his gaze sharp yet strangely kind.

  “Since I was a baby, sir,” Yna replied, her voice small. “I don’t remember much before that.”

  “Hmm,” Executive Director Choi mused, tapping his fingers against the table. “And your parents?”

  “They… passed away,” Yna answered hesitantly.

  Executive Director Choi nodded, as if piecing together a puzzle in his mind. “I see.” He then proceeded to ask her about her interests, her school, and even her thoughts on various subjects. He seemed genuinely interested, which was odd—he rarely even asked Lyn so many questions in one sitting.

  Lyn observed the scene with curiosity. She had never seen her father this engaged in a conversation outside of business. And her mother—she seemed almost affectionate toward Yna. There was something strange about all of this.

  Aky's Arrival

  The next morning, Lyn was still thinking about the strange dinner when the gates of the mansion opened once again. This time, a boy came sprinting in, dodging the guards with ease.

  “Aky! You can’t just run in like that!” Yna called out, rushing after him.

  But the boy, Aky Park, paid no mind. He stopped in front of Lyn, slightly panting, and grinned.

  “So you’re the rich girl Yna keeps talking about?”

  Lyn blinked in surprise. “She talks about me?”

  Aky crossed his arms and nodded. “Yeah. Didn’t think you’d look so… stiff.”

  Lyn frowned. “Excuse me?”

  Yna sighed. “Aky…”

  But Aky ignored her. He sat down on the grass, leaning back on his elbows. “Yna and I have been best friends since forever,” he announced proudly. “Ever since she moved in with her grandma, we’ve done everything together.”

  Lyn’s eyes widened slightly. Madam Yoon and Yna lived with Aky’s family? She thought about the elegant halls of her own home, the way every space was filled with extravagance. Compared to that, the idea of two families sharing a small house seemed… unimaginable.

  Lyn watched as Yna’s expression softened at Aky’s words. There was something incredibly warm about the way he spoke of their friendship, like it was an unshakable bond.

  “You two are best friends?” Lyn asked, genuinely intrigued.

  “Yup!” Aky grinned. “We sneak out, explore pces, and find the best snack bars in the city. She helps me with my homework—though I’m still bad at it—and I make sure she doesn’t just read all day.”

  Lyn chuckled. “You sound like complete opposites.”

  “Exactly!” Aky said proudly. “That’s why we work so well together.”

  Lyn had never had a friendship like that before. Maybe, just maybe, she was about to find out what it was like.

  Aky turned to Yna and grabbed her wrist. “Come on, let’s go to the pyground!”

  Yna hesitated, stealing a quick gnce toward her grandmother, making sure she wasn’t watching too closely. Madam Yoon was busy tending to the pnts, her back turned. Taking the chance, Yna gave Aky a small nod.

  Aky, ever cautious, scanned their surroundings, ensuring no one else was paying attention. When he was certain the coast was clear, he grabbed Yna’s wrist, tugging her along with a mischievous grin.

  Lyn stood frozen for a moment, watching them slip away like shadows in the dimming light. There was something raw, something real about the way they moved—unrestrained, unburdened by expectations. It was a kind of freedom she had never known.

  Before she even realized it, her feet moved on their own. “Wait!” she called after them.

  Aky stopped, looking back at her curiously. Yna did too, her eyes slightly wary.

  Lyn hesitated. It felt strange, asking to join them. She had never needed to ask for anything in her life before. “I—I want to come too.”

  Aky beamed. “Then hurry up!”

  Lyn hesitated once more. Her parents would disapprove. They never let her py outside, always insisting she remain within the mansion’s gates. But the ughter and excitement in Aky and Yna’s eyes lured her in. Taking a deep breath, she followed them, sneaking past the hedges and slipping out the back gate before anyone could notice.

  The Secret Pyground

  Lyn’s life had always been confined within the grand walls of the Choi mansion, where every movement was monitored, and every action was expected to be graceful and poised. Her parents disapproved of her pying outside, fearing that the world beyond their luxurious estate would taint their carefully molded daughter. Fun, in their eyes, was something to be curated—piano recitals, ballet lessons, and quiet tea gatherings in the pristine garden. But Yna, with her quiet determination, and Aky, with his relentless enthusiasm, refused to let her stay caged forever.

  “Come on, Lyn, it’s just a little walk,” Yna whispered one afternoon, her dark eyes glinting with mischief as they stood in the pyroom of the Choi mansion.

  “Yeah, don’t be scared. We’ve got it all figured out,” Aky added, fshing a confident grin. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “We even have an alibi.”

  Lyn raised a skeptical eyebrow. “An alibi?”

  Aky smirked. “We’ll tell the house staff we’re staying here in your pyroom. If anyone checks in, we’ll just leave some pillows under a bnket on the couch like we fell asleep watching a movie. Your staff never really bothers you much, right?”

  Lyn bit her lip. It was true—most of the workers in the mansion knew better than to interrupt her unless absolutely necessary. If they set things up right, they could buy themselves a couple of hours.

  Yna, ever the pnner, added, “I already told your maid earlier that we might get tired and nap here, so she won’t disturb us until dinner.”

  Lyn gnced between them. They had thought of everything. The idea of sneaking out sent a thrill down her spine, something she had never allowed herself to feel before. For once, she wanted to know what it was like—to run without worrying about posture, to ugh without restraint, to be somewhere that wasn’t perfectly polished and controlled.

  And so, she nodded.

  Getting out was trickier than expected. The Choi mansion was massive, filled with guards stationed at key exits, but Aky was quick on his feet, leading them through an unused back hall that most of the household barely noticed. They ducked behind tall potted pnts, pressed against walls to avoid crossing paths with passing maids, and finally slipped through a rarely used side gate that led to an old pathway lined with overgrown hedges.

  The moment they were outside, Aky exhaled dramatically. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

  Lyn’s heart pounded, not just from fear of being caught but from the exhirating rush of freedom. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

  “We’re not done yet,” Yna said, tugging at Lyn’s wrist. “Come on.”

  They wove through the quiet streets, the air carrying the scent of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery and the faint sound of a street musician pying an old tune. The buildings here weren’t grand like those in Lyn’s world—they were aged, some with peeling paint and rusted railings—but there was a charm to them, a warmth she had never encountered before.

  After several turns, they arrived at their secret pce—a small pyground tucked between two old apartment buildings.

  Lyn’s breath caught. It was nothing like the carefully maintained gardens at the mansion. The swing set’s chains were slightly rusted, the slide’s paint was chipped, and the jungle gym wobbled just a little when Aky climbed it. And yet, it was alive.

  Children’s ughter echoed faintly from nearby courtyards, and the setting sun bathed the pyground in golden hues. This wasn’t just a pyground—it was a hidden world, untouched by rules and expectations.

  Aky hopped onto the jungle gym with ease, hanging from the bars effortlessly. “Come on, Lyn. Try it.”

  Lyn hesitated, eyeing the monkey bars warily. She had never done anything like this before.

  Yna, noticing her uncertainty, encouraged, “It’s okay. Just hold on tightly.”

  Aky rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. She can py the piano like a pro, but she’s scared of monkey bars?”

  Lyn huffed. “Pying piano doesn’t require dangling mid-air like an idiot.”

  Aky grinned. “Then I guess it’s time you learn.” He extended a hand to her.

  Lyn took a deep breath, gripping the bar hesitantly. The metal was rough against her palm, so different from the smooth ivory keys she was used to. Aky guided her, showing her how to swing from bar to bar, and for the first time in her life, Lyn wasn’t worried about looking graceful. She wasn’t worried about perfection.

  She was just... having fun. After a few minutes, she dropped down, breathless. Yna cpped lightly. “See? The outside world isn’t so bad.”

  Lyn smiled, brushing strands of hair from her face. “It’s different,” she admitted.

  Aky flopped onto a swing, pushing himself back and forth zily. “Speaking of different, your school is probably nothing like ours, huh?”

  Lyn sat beside him, gripping the rusted chains. “Not at all.”

  Aky and Yna exchanged curious gnces. “How different are we talking?” Aky asked.

  Lyn thought for a moment before answering. “For one, Daehan International Academy is enormous. We have several buildings for different subjects—there’s a science wing, an arts building, and even a separate hall just for music and dance.”

  Aky whistled. “Must be nice.”

  “There’s also a huge courtyard with a marble fountain in the center,” Lyn continued, her voice thoughtful. “And the cssrooms have state-of-the-art technology. Smart boards, personal tablets for students, even a private café for lunch.”

  Yna blinked. “A café? We barely have enough chairs in some of our cssrooms.”

  Aky chuckled. “Yeah, our ‘library’ is just a tiny room with secondhand books.”

  Lyn listened, intrigued. She had always known her school was prestigious, but she had never really thought about what it was like for students outside of her world. “And your school?” she asked.

  Aky smirked. “Cracked walls, tiny cssrooms, and a vending machine that sometimes works.”

  Yna smiled. “But we have each other. That’s what makes it bearable.”

  Lyn stared at them. For the first time, she envied something about their world.

  Aky suddenly cpped his hands together. “Alright, enough school talk. From now on, this pyground is our secret hideout.”

  Yna nodded in agreement. “No one else should know. Just us.”

  Lyn gnced around at the small pyground—the chipped paint, the slightly wobbly jungle gym, the comforting sense of freedom.

  She smiled. “Just us.”

  And for the first time in her life, she truly felt like she belonged.

  The Great River Sneak

  Later that afternoon, they wandered towards the nearby river, where wildflowers swayed in the breeze. The water shimmered under the sun, creating a mesmerizing dance of ripples as the wind passed over it. It was a forbidden pce—Aky’s parents had warned him about the dangers of pying near water, and Yna’s grandmother always reminded her to stay away. And yet, they always found themselves drawn to it.

  “This one looks pretty,” Yna said, crouching down to examine a pale pink blossom growing near the riverbank.

  Lyn knelt beside her, reaching for another flower with soft purple petals. “Do you know what it’s called?”

  Yna shook her head. “No, but I like it.”

  Lyn nodded. “Me too.”

  Aky, however, was busy with something else entirely. “Hey, look at this!” he called from a few steps away, holding up a small, squirming frog in his hands.

  Yna’s eyes widened in horror. “Aky! Put it down!”

  Aky smirked. “Why? It’s just a tiny frog. It’s cute.”

  Yna backed away, her face paling. “I don’t like frogs!”

  Seeing her genuine distress, Aky grinned mischievously. “Oh really?”

  Before Yna could react, he pyfully moved the frog closer to her. She shrieked, stumbling backward, tears welling in her eyes.

  Lyn, who had been watching with amusement, suddenly stepped between them. “Aky, stop.”

  Aky hesitated. He had expected Lyn to scream, to run away, but instead, she was staring at him with a bored expression. “You’re not scared?” he asked.

  Lyn crossed her arms. “It’s just a frog.”

  Aky blinked, surprised. “You’re weird.”

  Yna sniffled, wiping her eyes. “You’re mean.”

  Aky sighed, finally setting the frog down. “Okay, okay. No more frogs.” He reached out, awkwardly patting Yna’s head. “Sorry.”

  Yna sniffled again but nodded. “Okay.”

  Lyn tilted her head. “You cry easily.”

  Yna blushed. “I do not.”

  Aky smirked. “You kind of do.”

  Lyn, for the first time that day, let out a small ugh. It was quiet, barely there, but both Aky and Yna heard it. They turned to look at her, surprised.

  “What?” Lyn asked, still smiling.

  Aky grinned. “You’re ughing.”

  Yna giggled. “She is.”

  Lyn quickly straightened, her usual expressionless face returning. “No, I’m not.”

  Aky and Yna exchanged looks before bursting into ughter. Lyn tried to maintain her composure, but as she watched them ugh, a warm feeling spread in her chest. For the first time, she wasn’t just an observer—she was a part of something.

  Mr. Jang’s Snack Bar

  As the sun dipped lower, casting golden hues across the city, the trio wrapped up their day’s adventure with one final stop. The scent of sizzling meat and fried dough filled the air as they made their way to the corner of the street, where a small snack bar stood beneath the shade of two towering trees. The store wasn’t anything fancy—just a modest setup with a few pstic chairs outside and a faded wooden counter lined with trays of freshly made street food. A neon sign, flickering slightly, dispyed the words Jang’s Snack Bar.

  It had been there for as long as Aky and Yna could remember, serving up cheap and delicious food to students, workers, and anyone who wandered by.

  Aky pushed open the gss door, the small bell above it jingling as they stepped inside. The pce smelled of fried dumplings, spicy tteokbokki—rice cake, and warm broth. Behind the counter, an older man with graying hair and kind eyes wiped his hands on a towel before turning to greet them.

  It was Aky who first introduced Lyn to him. “Mr. Jang, we brought a new customer today,” Aky announced, grinning.

  Mr. Jang looked up from the sizzling pan of rice cake, his sharp but kind eyes scanning Lyn curiously. “Ah, a new face,” he mused, wiping his hands on his apron. “You’re friends with these two troublemakers?”

  Lyn blinked, caught off guard by the casual warmth in his voice. She wasn’t used to being addressed so informally by adults. “I—um, yes,” she replied.

  Yna smiled. “She’s a bit shy.”

  “Shy or not, everyone’s welcome here,” Mr. Jang chuckled before nodding at her. “So, what’ll it be?”

  Lyn gnced at the trays of food dispyed—golden fish cakes on skewers, spicy rice cakes coated in red sauce, and crispy kimbap rolls neatly arranged on a ptter. They were nothing like the delicate, pted meals served in the Choi mansion’s dining hall.

  “I’ll try the tteokbokki,” she decided.

  Mr. Jang scooped a few pieces into a small paper tray and handed it to her. “Here you go, missy.”

  Lyn reached into her pocket and pulled out a crisp 1,000-won bill, handing it to him.

  The moment Mr. Jang saw the money, he froze. He looked at Lyn, then at the bill, then back at Lyn. “A thousand won?” he repeated, as if he had misheard.

  Aky and Yna immediately burst into ughter.

  “She just gave him a thousand won,” Aky wheezed.

  “Lyn, you just paid for all of us for the rest of the summer,” Yna added between giggles.

  Lyn frowned, confused. “Is that too much?”

  Mr. Jang let out a hearty ugh. “Missy, a serving of tteokbokki is only 50 won. Did you think I was running a five-star restaurant?”

  Lyn’s face turned slightly pink. At Daehan International Academy, a single pastry from the school café cost ten times that amount. She had assumed street food would be simirly priced.

  Aky patted her shoulder, still grinning. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of your financial mistakes. Mr. Jang, we’ll be back every day until that thousand won runs out.”

  Mr. Jang chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. But since she’s a new customer, she gets a free snack of her choice.”

  Lyn hesitated before pointing at a neatly arranged batch of kkwabaegi—Korean twisted donuts dusted in sugar. “That one.”

  Mr. Jang handed her one with a knowing smile. “Got a sweet tooth, huh?”

  Lyn took a bite, her eyes widening slightly at the soft, fluffy texture and the perfect bance of sweetness. She nodded. “I think I like this.”

  From that day on, Mr. Jang always had twisted donuts, set aside for her whenever they visited.

  Sharing Secrets

  After finishing their snacks, the trio leaned against the rge tree outside the shop, chatting as the sun dipped lower in the sky. The summer heat was finally easing, and a soft breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying the faint scent of fried food and sweet syrup from the snack bar.

  “We finally got Lyn to climb the monkey bars today,” Aky announced proudly, stretching his arms behind his head with a triumphant grin.

  Mr. Jang, who had just stepped outside to wipe down the pstic tables, raised an eyebrow. “Monkey bars? I thought she looked too fancy for pygrounds.”

  “I thought so too,” Aky admitted, shooting Lyn a teasing look.

  Lyn rolled her eyes. “You two act like I grew up in a gss box.”

  “…Didn’t you?” Yna teased, sipping on her cool magnolia berry tea, the tart and floral taste refreshing after the warm day.

  Lyn opened her mouth to protest but realized they weren’t exactly wrong. She had spent most of her childhood in carefully controlled environments—schools with strict rules, homes with security gates, and schedules that left little room for spontaneity. This summer had been different. This summer, she had been different.

  Mr. Jang chuckled as he pulled up a chair, the legs scraping against the uneven pavement. “So, Lyn, I’ve got to ask… you don’t seem like the type to sneak out for tteokbokki and pygrounds. What’s your school like? Must be pretty fancy.”

  Lyn hesitated for a moment before answering. “Daehan International Academy is… big. The buildings are modern, with gss walls and marble floors. There’s a courtyard with fountains, and the cssrooms have state-of-the-art equipment. The library is massive, and we even have a café inside the school.”

  Mr. Jang let out a low whistle. “A café? Inside the school?”

  Lyn nodded. “And a gym, an auditorium, and even a greenhouse.”

  Mr. Jang leaned back, shaking his head in amusement. “Sounds like a pace, not a school.”

  Aky smirked. “Told you.”

  Yna tilted her head. “Do you like it there?”

  Lyn thought for a moment before answering, “I don’t dislike it.”

  Aky grinned. “That means no.”

  She didn’t respond, but the small smile on her lips was enough of an answer.

  They continued chatting about their river adventure, Yna’s near-tears frog incident, and how Lyn had ughed for the first time in front of them. The conversation flowed easily, the warmth of their friendship filling the air like the st golden light of the setting sun.

  “Remember the time Aky tried to build a raft out of popsicle sticks?” Yna ughed, nudging him pyfully.

  “Hey, it could have worked!” Aky defended himself. “I just didn’t have the right materials.”

  “You used glue and string,” Lyn pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

  “Exactly! It was an engineering experiment,” Aky said dramatically, making both girls burst into ughter.

  Mr. Jang listened, amused, his expression softening. But as Lyn continued to describe her school, his eyes flickered with something else—something unreadable. He rubbed the back of his neck, gncing toward the horizon where the sun was beginning to disappear beyond the rooftops.

  “Sounds like you kids had quite the summer,” he said finally, his voice quieter than before.

  Aky leaned back, exhaling contentedly. “Best summer ever.”

  For a moment, silence settled between them, comfortable and warm. Then, Lyn noticed it again—the way Mr. Jang’s fingers tapped against the table, his eyes distant as if lost in thought. She had always liked him, but something about the way he reacted to her stories tonight made her pause. There was something… off.

  But before she could dwell on it, Aky tossed an arm around her shoulder. “Come on, rich girl, admit it. You’re going to miss us when school starts.”

  Lyn scoffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

  Yna grinned. “We’ll miss you too, Lyn.”

  And for once, Lyn didn’t argue.

  The Last Day of Summer

  As the end of summer approached, their visits to Mr. Jang’s snack bar became more than just a routine. The small corner store, with its sizzling skewers and crispy fried snacks, had become part of their little world—one untouched by rules, expectations, or the weight of reality waiting beyond the season.

  The air was thick with the lingering warmth of the sun, even as the evening breeze tried to cool the earth. The scent of grilled fish cakes and sweet syrup lingered in the humid air, mingling with the distant ughter of children pying in the streets. Cicadas droned in the trees above, their rhythmic buzz a constant reminder that summer was slipping away, each passing night bringing them closer to the end of their golden days.

  On their final evening together before school resumed, the trio lingered at their usual spot beneath the towering trees, their snacks half-eaten, conversation drifting in the cooling breeze. There was a shared, unspoken understanding that this night was different.

  Lyn shifted in her seat, gripping her cup of cold omija tea—sweet magnolia berry tea cooling her palms. She had spent weeks pretending she was just another ordinary kid who had stumbled into an unexpected friendship. But reality always had a way of creeping back in. She took a small sip, letting the mild sweetness coat her tongue before setting the cup down beside her.

  “This summer felt longer than the others,” Aky mused, breaking the silence. He leaned back, bancing on the rear legs of his chair, his fingers idly peeling the damp bel off his chilled bottle of sujeonggwa—cinnamon punch. “Like, we did so much. But now that it's ending, it feels like it passed too fast.”

  Yna gnced at him, smiling faintly. “We did do a lot,” she agreed. “Remember when we snuck into the old train station, thinking it was haunted?”

  Aky snorted. “Yeah, and you screamed at a pile of old newspapers.”

  Lyn chuckled softly, stirring the ice in her drink with her straw. “To be fair, it was really dark in there. And you screamed too when a cat jumped out of nowhere.”

  Aky feigned offense. “That was a tactical scream. You have to assess the danger before making a move.”

  Yna rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her chilled yuja-cha—citrus tea. The sweet and citrusy taste lingered on her lips as she shook her head. “Right. Tactical.”

  For a while, they just sat there, the soft hum of the town settling around them. The neon light from the snack bar flickered slightly, casting a warm glow on their faces. Aky absentmindedly reached for another piece of crispy hotteok—Korean red bean filled pancake, tearing it in half and offering one side to Lyn, who accepted it with a small nod.

  “I wish we could do this forever,” Lyn said suddenly, her voice quieter, almost wistful.

  Yna looked at her, her expression softening. “We’ll still see each other. It’s not like summer ending means we stop being friends.”

  Aky grinned. “Yeah, but it won’t be the same. No more sneaking out, no more snack bar runs at random hours. School ruins everything.”

  Lyn let out a small sigh, staring at the condensation on her gss. “Maybe. Or maybe things just… change.”

  The thought hung between them, heavy yet unspoken. They each knew it was true. The summer had been theirs, a bubble of warmth and adventure, but the world outside of it was waiting. Their lives, their expectations, their families—everything would pull them in different directions.

  For now, though, they could pretend. For one st evening, under the flickering snack bar lights and the warm remnants of summer, they were just three kids, sharing drinks, ughter, and memories that would linger long after the season had passed.

  She inhaled deeply. “Mr. Jang… my real name is Choi Lyn.”

  For the first time, Mr. Jang genuinely looked surprised. He set down the cloth he had been using to wipe the counter, turning his full attention to her. “Choi Lyn? As in… from that Choi family?”

  Aky and Yna exchanged gnces before nodding.

  Lyn braced herself for the usual reaction—a shift in tone, a hesitance that often came when people realized who she was. A name like ‘Choi’ came with expectations, with consequences.

  But instead, Mr. Jang let out a low chuckle. “Well, that expins the thousand-won disaster.”

  Aky snorted, nearly choking on his drink. “I told you, Lyn, you tipped him like he was a five-star restaurant.”

  Yna giggled, nudging Lyn. “We could’ve gotten free snacks all summer if you hadn’t done that.”

  Lyn rolled her eyes, but relief softened her posture. Mr. Jang wasn’t looking at her any differently. If anything, he seemed more amused than anything else.

  “You won’t tell anyone, right?” Lyn asked, her voice quieter now. “If my parents find out, they’ll…” She trailed off, gripping her cup tighter.

  Mr. Jang’s usual pyful smirk softened into something reassuring. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Of course not. It’s only adults who care about those things.” Then, with a small grin, he added, “And, well… if I’m keeping your secret, you’ll have to keep one of mine.”

  Aky’s eyes immediately lit up. “Wait—you have secrets too?”

  Mr. Jang chuckled. “Plenty.”

  Yna tilted her head, intrigued. “What kind of secret?”

  The old snack bar owner stretched zily before tossing his apron onto a nearby hook. “Meet me by the river two afternoons from now, a week before school starts. Then, I’ll tell you one.”

  Aky perked up. “A secret meeting by the river? Sounds like another adventure to me.”

  Yna grinned. “Maybe he has a secret hideout or something?”

  But Lyn sat quietly, studying Mr. Jang’s expression. Unlike Aky and Yna, her mind went elsewhere—why the river? Why wait two afternoons? A knot of doubt twisted in her stomach, but before she could ask anything, Mr. Jang fshed them his usual grin.

  “Just don’t be te,” he said, waving them off.

  Aky grinned. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  And just like that, their summer adventure wasn’t quite over just yet.

  A Summer of Secrets

  The summer sun in Gwangju bathed the quiet streets in golden light, casting long shadows as the cicadas hummed their familiar, zy tune. For Lyn, Yna, and Aky, this summer had been unlike any other—woven together with whispered secrets, mischievous adventures, and the kind of friendship that felt unbreakable.

  As the sky deepened into warm hues of pink and orange, the three of them walked slowly back toward the Choi mansion, their pace unhurried, as if deying the inevitable.

  “You think we’ll ever get caught?” Yna asked, kicking a loose pebble along the pavement.

  Aky smirked. “Probably. But we’ll just come up with a better pn.”

  Lyn gnced at them both, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “I don’t mind sneaking out again.”

  Aky turned to her with a dramatic gasp. “Who are you, and what have you done with Choi Lyn?”

  Yna giggled. “The Lyn we met would’ve never broken a single rule.”

  Lyn smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Only with you two.”

  Their ughter echoed softly in the evening air, the sound mixing with the rustling of the wind through the trees.

  As they neared the mansion, reality began to creep in. Summer was ending. Soon, they would be returning to their separate lives—Lyn to her pristine, polished world, Yna to her grandmother’s watchful care, and Aky to whatever new mischief he could stir up.

  Aky broke the silence first. “You know what this means, right?”

  Yna nodded. “We have to promise to meet again next summer.”

  Lyn, for once, didn’t hesitate. “We will.”

  Aky crossed his arms, pretending to look serious. “We need something official. A pact.”

  Yna perked up. “A handshake!”

  Aky grinned. “Yes! A secret one. Just for us.”

  Lyn raised an eyebrow. “That’s childish.”

  Aky nudged her pyfully. “And sneaking out of your mansion isn’t?”

  Lyn sighed, but a small ugh escaped her. “Fine.”

  The three of them huddled together, whispering like spies pnning a grand scheme.

  Aky started. “Okay, first—fist bump.”

  They all bumped their fists together.

  “Then—crossing pinkies.” Yna intertwined her pinky with Lyn’s, and Lyn linked hers with Aky’s.

  “Then, spin once.” They each did a quick spin, barely holding in their ughter.

  “And finally—” Aky grinned. “Sp, sp, snap.” They cpped each other’s hands twice before snapping their fingers in unison.

  It was ridiculous. Messy. Imperfect.

  And it was theirs.

  Lyn stared at their intertwined hands, the warmth of their touch lingering as they pulled away. She had never had anything like this before—something so simple, yet so precious.

  “This summer…” she started, hesitating for a brief moment. “It was one of the best I’ve ever had.”

  Yna’s eyes softened. “Me too.”

  Aky grinned. “Same here. And it’s not over yet! Tomorrow, we meet Mr. Jang at the river. He’s got a secret to tell.”

  Yna’s excitement returned. “You think he has a hideout or something?”

  Aky gasped. “Or a treasure?”

  Yna pyfully smacked his arm. “It’s not a treasure hunt, dummy.”

  Lyn, however, remained quiet. While Aky and Yna were bursting with excitement, something in the pit of her stomach felt… uneasy. Why the river? Why wait two afternoons? Mr. Jang had smiled as usual, but something about his expression had felt different.

  Still, she didn’t say anything.

  “Guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” Aky said with a grin. “Same time?”

  Yna nodded. “Same time.”

  Lyn hesitated for only a second before saying, “Same time.”

  As they stood beneath the towering trees, the st rays of summer light casting a soft glow over them, they locked pinkies one st time.

  A promise.

  A summer to remember.

  An adventure that wasn’t quite over just yet.

  That summer, Lyn, Yna, and Aky became inseparable. They spent their days sneaking out, pying at the pyground, and visiting Mr. Jang’s snack bar. Lyn, who had only known perfection and etiquette, found herself drawn to their simple joys. Yna, who had lived a life of hardship, felt what it was like to have real friends. And Aky, who had always been content with the little he had, cherished every moment they shared.

  For the first time in their young lives, they were just three children. No rich girl, no housekeeper’s granddaughter, no boy from a struggling family—just three friends, bound by something more powerful than circumstance.

  And so, that summer, amidst forbidden adventures, ughter, and shared secrets, their bond grew stronger. Unbeknownst to them, the memories they created would be the very ones they’d one day struggle to remember.

  But fate was cruel. And this summer, though beautiful, would not st forever.

  END OF CHAPTER 2