She never texted Cami again that afternoon. They both fell silent. But late that night Cami awoke to a poem.
“Spent last night staring at the moon,
Softly reflecting the sun’s bloom.
Spent last night staring at the stars,
Softly wondering who we are.”
Cami read the words through. They reached out and touched her heart, for she was staring out of her own window at that same moon right now. It was casting its soft glow down upon her front yard. And making her long for things she couldn’t put into words. But she had always identified with Namjoon’s love of the moon. She had long considered herself a moonchild too.
She didn’t know how to respond. So she didn’t.
Her new correspondent didn’t send any more communications that night, so she went to bed with those four lines revolving in her head. She woke up to them the next morning too. And to another message.
“So…what did you think? Do you like the lyrics? I promised to share some of my new song with you.”
Ahhh. Her new song.
“I like it,” Cami responded.
“Really? Feel free to tell me the truth. I can handle it. I need to know if it’s good.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Then I’ll share some more with you.”
The next text admitted, “This is what I’ve spent my time in quarantine doing. Writing this song. So I can release it soon.”
Release it? I’m just Real Me must have a YouTube channel.
“When you release it, send me the link,” Cami responded. “I’d like to listen to it.”
“I will.”
Cami waited, but she didn’t hear from I’m just Real Me again that morning.
As she sat down at her computer to do her schoolwork, she realized that she still didn’t know what to call her new acquaintance. They had never exchanged names. She opened her phone and sent a direct message.
“I’m Cami.”
She didn’t get a response until late that night.
“Hi, Cami. You can call me Nami.”
Nami? Where was her new friend from?
But she decided not to ask because then she’d have to reciprocate, and she wasn’t sure if she could trust this person. The less she knew about her real identity, the better.
Once again, she didn’t know how to respond, so she just sent a smiley emoji. Nami was silent. For a few minutes. But when Cami checked Twitter an hour later, she found another message from her.
“Will I always be a pale shadow
Of a bright and shining star?
You know who you are.
You know who you are.
“But who am I?
Who am I?
Why am I here?
Why do I fear?
“Who am I?
Who am I?
Why do I sigh?
Why can’t I fly?”
Wow.
Cami loved these melancholy lyrics. They perfectly suited her mood today.
“Beautiful,” she echoed her earlier sentiment.
But this time, she got no response.
—
Cami awoke to more lovely lyrics in the morning.
“Spent today staring at the sun.
Why’s it the brightly shining one?
Spent today hiding from its glare.
Scorching heat more than I can bear.”
She really wished she could hear the melody. Nami’s words kept revolving around her mind. She’d even dreamt about them last night. Her dream had echoed the words, “Who am I? Who am I?”
