Well, the results were out, and surprisingly, all of us scored 95% and above. You might think I'm kidding, but try studying 10 hours straight for 10 months every day. We were exhausted, to say the least, and our parents were in shock. We had done well, even without those ridiculous extra points. And, believe it or not, Akimchi was the school topper.
But when college decisions came, there was this unspoken discomfort in the group. We had grown up together, practically lived through this chaos side by side, and now we were facing the reality of going our separate ways. It just made us, you know... sad. It felt like everything was happening too fast, and we weren’t ready to let go.
Someone had to speak up about it. I respected that everyone had their own dreams and paths in life, and I didn't want to restrict anyone, but this small proposal wouldn't hurt, right?
One day, when we were cleaning up the studio—the place where we spent countless hours studying—I couldn’t help but feel the weight of all the memories. The late nights, the jokes, the stress. It was our place. So, I just spoke up.
"Guys, what have you all decided about your college plans?" I asked, and immediately, everyone stopped what they were doing, almost like I'd hit a nerve.
I waited, but no one answered. The silence made me sigh. "Okay, how many of you know what degree you want to pursue?" Slowly, one by one, most of them raised their hands.
I knew something had to be done. So, I gathered them all on the floor, the same spot we sat during our endless study sessions. I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down the degrees or options they were considering. The list was surprisingly diverse, from engineering to business, from arts to sciences.
After we laid it all out, there was really only one place that could accommodate such a wide range of dreams: Seoul National University.
I looked at them, and without saying a word, I knew they understood what I was getting at. If there was one place that could keep us together, it was SNU.
"Okay, now shut the fuck up before I get pissed. Did y’all really expect the scores we got for the SATs?" I asked, looking around the room. Everyone stayed quiet. "Exactly. So stop being such babies and let's just apply and write the entrance exam."
I looked at them, waiting for someone to speak up. Of course, it was Bora who raised the big issue. "The fees. What about that?"
I sighed. That was the only real problem, and it weighed heavy on all of us. It wasn’t easy. "How much have you guys saved up so far?" I asked, hoping for some kind of miracle number, but deep down, I knew it wasn't going to be that simple.
They all shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other, the reality sinking in that money might just be the biggest hurdle between us and SNU.
We had all managed to save around 2 million each, but that would barely cover one year of college. Fuck, man. The weight of the situation hit us like a ton of bricks.
"You know what? Let’s bother about that part later. Let’s just go for it like we always do," Yoojoeong said, breaking the tension.
After the little meet, Ilha and I decided to head to a convenience store. Grabbing some snacks, we climbed up to the terrace, our spot, and sat at the edge. The terrace was where it all began for us.
"You didn’t raise your hand today," I said, gazing at the sky.
He sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. "Because I don’t know what the fuck I wanna do," he admitted, making me sigh too.
I leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of his uncertainty. "The canvases in your room say otherwise," I whispered, barely audible, but enough for him to hear.
Ilha stayed quiet for a moment, just staring at the night sky. I could feel him tensing up beside me, but I didn’t push. He always had this habit of bottling things up until he was ready to spill it all at once.
"I’m not good enough," he finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he didn’t want to admit it out loud. "Everyone’s got their plans, and I’m just... here, painting random shit on a canvas."
"Don't you dare say that," I said firmly, holding his hand tighter. "Your work is beyond limits, Ilha. It’s beautiful. Your paintings express things words can’t. You have an eye for it, and that’s something rare."
He looked down, still conflicted. "Maybe, but... Art? It isn’t a safe career path. I want to provide for us, but most of all, I want to give back to my mom. She’s sacrificed so much for me, and I want to give her the things she deserves."
I nodded, understanding the weight of that responsibility.I get it. Right now, me choosing a medical career is for the same reason. To provide for my mom and have a stable future. But that doesn’t mean I’m disregarding my passion. I’ve always wanted to be a doctor, a gynecologist to be exact. I want to help women, bring new life into this world, and make a difference.
He glanced at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You’ve always known what you wanted."
"Yeah, but it’s not just about the dream, Ilha. It’s about the balance. You can chase your passion and still find stability. You’ve got the heart and the talent. You just need to trust that it’ll work out, even if it’s not the conventional route."
He exhaled, a bit of the tension easing out of his shoulders. "I just don’t want to let anyone down."
"You won’t," I reassured him. "Not your mom, not me, not yourself. You’ve already made it this far, and that’s more than a lot of people can say. Whatever happen."
"You wanna give back to your mom, I get that," I said, looking at him seriously. "But have you ever asked her what she wants?"
Ilha just stared at me, clearly caught off guard. "I... I don’t know about that," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.
"Well, that’s gonna be the first thing you do when you get home," I said, poking his arm, making him groan in protest.
He wasn’t the type to be super vocal with his feelings, especially with his mom, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love her deeply. After a lot of nudging (and a fair share of whining on his part), I finally got him to agree to ask her the simple question: What do you really want?
"Just saying, our moms were planning to get a beach house, ditch us, and live together," I added, giggling at the thought.
That made him laugh for real, the kind that lit up his entire face. "Yeah, sounds like something they’d do," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I swear, they wouldn’t even miss us."
"At all!" I laughed. "They’d just be sipping on iced tea by the ocean, gossiping, and probably forgetting they even had kids."
We both laughed at the image, the heaviness from earlier lifting a bit as we shared that moment.
