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SAYA ──────────── ' les printemps '
— SPRING: what a beautiful season. Saya defended spring with her life. She thought the season was never given the credit it deserved.
Saya was only nine— maybe ten— years old when she fell in love with spring. The sun has risen early that morning, so instead of being awoken by the gentle touch of her mother's hand, Saya's eyes fluttered open from the tickle of the sun on her cheek.
Her window was cracked open for ventilation, and a choir of morning doves and wrens glided into her room with the cold air. It had been so long since she'd heard the sound, Saya had almost forgotten how the melody went.
That morning, filled with life after the silent winter, is what Saya thought back to anytime she was questioned about her favourite season.
Spring: when the hazed stars and lonely moon are finally reunited with the heartbeat of earth.
Spring was also when Saya had met each of her new friends (excluding Haeun, who had been around since January).
It was the first day of spring— well, not really, it was a week after the real first day, but it was the day that felt like spring— and Saya had merely wanted a coffee to celebrate the new season.
What had started off as a joyous day quickly turned sour when the line had been held up by two boys. Saya was stuck at the end of the queue, but the commotion was loud enough for her to hear. One of the boys had forgotten his wallet after saying he'd pay, and naturally the other didn't bring his money with him, so now they were trying to get another friend to bring them some cash.
People were getting agitated, and Saya just really wanted a coffee, so she stepped out of line and up to the front.
Now, Saya's Korean skills were subpar at the time, but she was able to roughly say something along the lines of "let me pay". She hadn't let either of them say anything before she was handing her card over.
She had simply planned to walk away after that, but the boys had other plans. One of them had grabbed her arm before she got too far away, and to her surprise, started talking to her in English. So much for those Korean lessons from Haeun.
"You didn't have to do that. But thank you so much," He said, almost apologetically. "How can we repay you?"
Saya immediately waved him off. "Don't worry about it. Have a nice day!"
That answer must not have been satisfactory for them. Before Saya could step any further away, the same boy pulled her back, this time with his phone outstretched to her.
"Please, let us pay you back," He practically begged. "You can give me your numbers, or PayPal, Venmo— whatever. I just feel bad letting you pay and not paying you back."
