Unwritten Chords Of Love

Full

The school year had barely begun, but Hanni already felt the shift in the air. It wasn't just the change of seasons—the gradual melt of snow, the budding of flowers—that marked the passage of time. It was more than that. She had spent so much of the past months lost in questions about love and connection, about whether she could find something real, something lasting. Now, as she walked through the halls of her high school, she felt like she was finally stepping into the next chapter of her life—one she was writing herself.

It had been almost a month since that day in the music room with Minji. Since then, they had played together a few more times, casually, without the weight of anything else hanging over them. They had found a rhythm that worked—one where the music spoke louder than words. They didn't need to explain themselves anymore, not in the way they once did. It wasn't about trying to make sense of their feelings for each other. It wasn't about defining anything. It was just about being.

Hanni found herself spending more time with Jiwoo, too. Jiwoo's upcoming audition for the arts academy was fast approaching, and every conversation with her was full of nervous excitement. She was determined, though, even if she didn't always show it. Hanni admired her for that. They practiced together when they could, writing songs and creating sounds that filled the air with the kind of hope that only comes when you're on the verge of something new.

But even as she felt her own world opening up, there were moments of quiet reflection. Hanni's feelings for Minji had changed—transformed into something simpler, more grounded. It wasn't the burning, all-consuming passion of before. It wasn't that storm of confusion and longing. Instead, it had become a quiet warmth, a memory that was fading but still glowing softly in the background, like a star slowly losing its light.

And that was okay. It was more than okay. It was real.

---

One evening, as spring break approached and the weather began to warm, Hanni found herself standing outside the school gates, guitar case in hand. She had stayed after school to work on a new song, and now, she was walking home, lost in thought.

"Hey, Hanni!"

Hanni turned at the sound of her name and saw Minji walking toward her, her own guitar case slung over her shoulder. For a moment, the sight of her took Hanni by surprise, but she smiled immediately, the familiar comfort of her presence settling over her.

"Hey, Minji," Hanni greeted her warmly. "What's up?"

Minji hesitated for a moment before speaking, her expression more serious than usual. "I was thinking... maybe we should play a gig together. Like, for real this time. I've been talking to a few people at school, and there's a talent show coming up in a couple of weeks. I think we could do something fun. What do you think?"

Hanni blinked, the idea taking a second to settle in her mind. A gig. Together. The thought was thrilling, but also a little intimidating. They had always played for fun, just the two of them. But performing in front of an audience—that was something else entirely.

"I don't know..." Hanni said, biting her lip as she considered it. "That's kind of a big step. Are you sure we're ready for something like that?"

Minji shrugged, a mischievous grin playing at her lips. "Why not? We've got the music. And I think we've both come a long way since last year. Besides, it'll be fun. No pressure."

Hanni hesitated for a moment longer, but the thought of performing with Minji, of sharing that kind of experience, was exciting. It felt like the right thing to do. It felt like something new.

"Okay," Hanni said finally, a smile creeping onto her face. "Let's do it. But we're going to have to practice a lot."

Minji's eyes lit up with excitement. "Deal. We've got two weeks. Let's make it count."

---

The following weeks flew by in a blur of rehearsals, late nights, and excited discussions about their setlist. Hanni and Minji had settled into a rhythm that felt natural—so much so that Hanni found herself looking forward to every practice. There was no tension between them, no confusion or uncertainty. There was just music. Just the two of them, building something together. The lines between friendship and something more had blurred to the point where Hanni wasn't sure where one ended and the other began. But she didn't mind. This was something they were both doing because they loved it.

The night of the talent show arrived, and the school auditorium was packed with students, teachers, and parents. Hanni was nervous, but as she and Minji stepped backstage, adjusting their microphones and getting their instruments ready, the nerves faded into something else—something like anticipation. The music was theirs, and they had worked hard to make it something they could be proud of.

When it was finally their turn, Hanni stood at the side of the stage, waiting for their cue. Minji gave her a reassuring smile, and Hanni returned it, feeling a surge of confidence she hadn't expected. She had done this before, in smaller settings, but tonight felt different. Tonight, they were going to show everyone what they were capable of.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd quieted as they stepped into the spotlight. The familiar weight of her guitar in her hands gave her a sense of comfort. She looked over at Minji, who gave her a nod.

And then they started to play.

The first few notes were tentative, but as they both settled into the song, the music took on a life of its own. The room faded away, and all that was left was the sound of their instruments and their voices, blending together in perfect harmony. Hanni's heart raced with the thrill of performing, but it wasn't the rush she had once chased. This was different. This was *sharing*—sharing their passion, their story, their music.

When the song ended, the room erupted in applause. Hanni stood there, breathless, a wide grin on her face. She felt a warmth spread through her, not just from the applause, but from the realization that she had found something meaningful—something that didn't need to be defined or labeled, something that just *was*.

After the performance, as they walked offstage, Minji turned to her with a smile. "That was amazing. You were amazing."

Hanni laughed, still riding the high of the performance. "No, *we* were amazing. This was our thing, Minji. I'm glad we did it."

Minji's expression softened, her eyes shining with something unspoken. "Yeah. Me too."

And in that moment, Hanni realized something. She didn't need to know exactly where their relationship was going or what it was supposed to mean. She didn't need any of the answers. What she had with Minji, with Jiwoo, with the music—it was enough. It was real.

And for the first time in a long time, Hanni felt the weight of uncertainty lift, replaced by a quiet, confident sense of peace. She was ready to embrace whatever came next, knowing that she had already found the most important thing of all: her own voice.

And that was all she needed.