"It feels like I'm seeing stars for the first time," Felix's quiet, deep voice broke the silence.

He probably really did. In Seoul, where the night never slept, sparkling with all kinds of lights and neon signs, the sky was always dull. Light pollution sucked. And you felt sorry for Felix; you, unlike your best friend, saw the stars every summer when you came here, to your grandmother's village, where the sky always twinkled like someone had dropped a jar of glitter. You always climbed out the window onto the roof, not forgetting to bring a blanket so that the rooftop wouldn't dig unpleasantly into your back, and drowned in your thoughts, admiring the sky.

Here you were on the roof again, but this time you had company in the form of your best friend, whom you begged to get out of the noisy city and get acquainted with your grandma and her goats. Felix agreed. His eyes were turned upward toward the sky, and you could see them sparkling. The stars reflected in his dark irises, making them glisten, or maybe they were tears.

A sniffle of his nose followed his words. Perhaps the stars weren't the only reason for the glistening. Perhaps seeing them for the first time wasn't the only reason for his tears.