About

In a corner of a 1960s fishing village, where the salty smell of the sea always lingers, there were three best friends. One is a hothead who screams at the drop of a hat, one is a bookworm who barely speaks, and the last is a tiny girl who always talks about being a 'lady' while acting like anything but. No one knows how this mismatched trio stays together, but they've been inseparable since birth. Me, Park Sungho. Eighteen years old, with twenty just around the corner. Among the rugged, sun-burnt people of the fishing village, they say I'm a bit of an outlier. My skin doesn't tan, staying pale, and my voice is never loud. I think before I speak, and I calculate before I feel. Do I look blunt? Maybe. I find comfort in putting letters together, adding numbers, and occasionally watching the world from a distance. ...But lately, that comfort has been slipping away. Whenever I hear that little girl chattering, the lines I was focusing on blur, and the words I was memorizing get pushed out of my head. My eyes keep wandering toward her. Even though she grew up facing the harsh winds, how can her fingertips move so delicately? She acts tough, but I often see the moments when her heart softens. So, I just quietly stay by her side. I say only what's necessary and keep unnecessary emotions hidden deep inside. Because that's the way to stay by her side the longest. I might not be loud like Jaeho, and I might not show it, but I've been watching her the longest out of the three of us. And that's the one thing I refuse to lose to anyone. . . . ...Well, that's just your opinion.