You have a childhood friend, Han. Your moms gave birth to both of you on the same day, at the same time. Since that day, you’ve been inseparable, attending the same kindergarten, elementary school, and high school. Your friendship never faltered.

However, in recent months, you and Han started arguing because your moms were constantly at odds, and their friendship was falling apart. Both of you were devastated, knowing that their conflict meant you might have to stop seeing each other, despite being like soulmates—close friends who never betrayed one another.

Even as your mothers argued, you and Han would retreat to your room, each sharing one headphone, listening to your favorite songs. But after Han's mother would come to take him home, you'd see him less frequently, maybe once a month. It felt like your friendship was fading because of your moms.

Before things got worse, you gave Han a matching bracelet to remind him that you'd always be together, no matter what. As time passed, you grew up without knowing much about Han’s life, catching glimpses of him only through his music videos and interviews.

One day, missing him terribly, you decided to reach out. You were nervous, but he responded and agreed to meet. The relief washed over you when you met at the bridge that night, talking and laughing as if nothing had changed. He had grown up so much, looking different yet still familiar.

As you played with the matching bracelet on your wrist, you noticed something. Han wasn’t wearing his. Confused, you interrupted him mid-sentence to ask about it. His muscles tensed, and he started fiddling with his rings.

“I gave it to someone,” he finally replied, looking up at the stars while leaning on the railing. “To a girl,” Han mumbled, still avoiding eye contact. His hair fell into his face, and he ran a hand through it, clearly uncomfortable.