a conversation: part i

"Hey, cute camera."

You're shaken out of your star-struck trance by her compliment, shaking your head and blinking your eyes. Then, you manage to stammer out shyly.

"Thanks," and you smile, trying to hide that anxiety despite the quivering lips. Again, Vivi isn't that high up on your Loona list, but her presence is enough to make you scatterbrained on the golden sand.

"Which simulation are you using?" she asks with a smile, and that disarms your guard a little.

You picked a few film simulation templates from the internet prior to the trip, but you also have to keep your answer succinct and not boring.

"Classic Cuban," you answer with your most-used template for the last six days. "Negative." It looks truly pretty in the daytime under the sun, but maybe you should switch to something else under this sunset.

"Oh, I use that one too! Sometimes," Vivi replies with a chuckle, prompting one from your mouth as well. "I'm more of a Kodak person, though."

Your eyes widen a bit. "I have Kodak as well!" then you realize that you're holding a Fujifilm X-E4 and not a Kodak camera. "The film sim one, not, like, you know."

Vivi laughs, "Yeah, I get it. I get it," and she treads towards you carefully. There's the sound of sifting sand from her shoes. You try to soften your body a bit, but it just won't oblige. So, you just stand there stiffly, waiting for her to reach you.

She notices that at least.

"Are you alright? You look a bit nervous," Vivi asks, and she stops. There remains a distance between you and her. One more step and she can hear you breathing too loudly.

You stutter, "I like Loona."

(It's a bit of a half-truth. You like the post-disbandment products of the group — Flower Rhythm and Sensitive — more than them being complete.)

Vivi narrows her lips a bit into an o-shape, and she nods. "Fair enough, yeah." She then takes a step back. It gives you the much-needed space when meeting a celebrity. "I'll just stand here first, then."

You smile at her gesture. "Thanks." There are still remnants of worry in your voice, but it's disappearing. You're pretty certain of that. The shakiness seems to subside for now.

"I thought no one was going to recognize me here — at this beach, at least," Vivi scoffs, eyes shifting between her camera and you. Her soft smile is apparent on her face. "I'm, like, more surprised than anything, though, and a bit flattered," and that smile turns into a soft chuckle.

"Well, for what it's worth, it's my pleasure to meet you, so, like, I don't know." You're struggling to find words to show your appreciation. She's probably getting the gist of it, at least, fidgeting with her camera a bit out of apparent happiness.

"Thanks," Vivi says. "So, uh, are you traveling alone?"

You give her a shrug before replying, "Half and half, I think? I'm in Tokyo with my family for a week, but they kinda just let me walk around the city by myself." You look in the direction of the soft waves crashing against the sand — serene. You take a picture of a group of students celebrating something. "What about you? Are you here alone too?"

"I'm with the company, but they're in Harajuku right now."

"So you're strolling alone like me?"

"Yeah, they can be, uh, restrictive," and Vivi chuckles.

You smile tenderly. "Yeah, I get the idea of it."

Vivi tucks her hair behind her ear. You just notice that her hair is almost touching her shoulder here. "Wanna walk with me a bit?"

Your eyes widen at the invitation. The notion of walking with someone of her status feels so far-fetched to you, but now, the chance presents itself in front of you, and who are you to decline that?

"Uh, sure? I take a lot of photos, though."

"I have time. Don't worry."

"I'm not an Orbit, to be clear," you declare, looking through your viewfinder as you take a picture of a couple watching the sun setting behind the skyline of Tokyo. Purple and orange streaks are painted across the sky. It's not very cloudy today, and you're thankful for the fact.

"I don't mind," Vivi replies with a disarming smile. She radiates a kind of happiness that soothes the predicaments going on in your life. "Can I ask you a personal question? Like, a long-answer one — fifteen points."

The small joke gets a small laugh out of you. "Yeah, sure."

"How do you see this vacation?"

"What do you mean?"

"Wait, let me add some more words into this," Vivi answers. Her shoes sink into the sand a bit with each step, and so do yours. "Like, uh, do you see this as just another retreat? A self-discovery? Or something else? Because you seem to be in that age where, like, many things are going on, right?"

"Nineteen."

"You look a bit older than that, to be honest."

You chuckle again before answering, "Anyway, I use this trip to fix myself — becoming a better person — if you still wanna know." You aim your camera at the Rainbow Bridge again. She stops, and you snap a shot once the alignment and subjects feel right to you. "I have some problems that I just have to solve by myself and, probably, a few professionals," you add with a chuckle.

"I'm sorry about that."

"Thanks."

It's impossibly ugly.

Your mutual friends can only watch the collapse, unable to save you from the downfall you bring upon yourself. Your family can only help you so much. Your heart keeps tormenting you with endless guilt.

Again, it's impossibly ugly.