Chapter Text
The coffee shop was quieter than he had anticipated at this point in the day. Hyunjin knew from experience that early afternoon is when the college crowd would usually hit for a caffeine pick-me-up before prepping for evening classes, but the warm room was scarce save for the three baristas behind the counter and two girls furiously highlighting their textbooks at the corner table. Keopi Kong was his favorite of the cafes he used to rotate between on lazy afternoons, but now that he was in his first semester of graduate school he found himself typically only coming in the early morning.
What would usually be a few minutes of waiting behind the morning rush was an easy stroll up to the closest employee, and he felt lucky that he was a creature of habit that rarely strayed from his typical order now that his usual buffer time for decision-making was gone. The barista’s bright eyes followed his movement toward the counter, and he said with pep, “Your usual today sir?”
Hyunjin looked up from where he was already pulling some bills from his wallet to make eye contact with the employee, who seemed much too similar in age to be calling him “sir”. He hadn’t realized that other people had picked up on his routine, and was surprised to find that he had finally achieved his pocket-sized goal of becoming a “regular” at the shop down the street from his apartment. The guy was looking back and forth between him and a small notebook next to the register, but Hyunjin couldn’t make out the chicken scratch on the page. He was happy, though, that it only took a few weeks of coming in on Tuesday and Thursday mornings for people at the shop to know that he always ordered-
“A latte with two shots of espresso and one pump of vanilla, right?”
He smiled up at the barista, nodding twice and pushing the money forward. The guy shut the book, looking pleased with himself. “My coworker made us all a cheat sheet for the regulars,” the barista said with a small smile. “When you walked in, I assumed you were number 27- tall, dark, handsome, usually covered in some paint stains?”
Hyunjin fought the blush on his cheeks, but nodded. The barista had a nice smile, gentle, the kind that naturally reached up to his eyes. Hyunjin felt like he had seen him before, but was pretty sure he was not the guy who typically took his usual 6:45am orders. He felt like he would have remembered a face like that, but if he’s being honest with himself he barely remembers anything before 10am, so his time in the coffee shop these past few weeks had been a bit hazy.
The guy’s name tag was on upside-down, and half of it was covered in what looked like whipped cream, but Hyunjin was able to make out the first letter and said, “Thank you, J”. The rest of his name would have to remain a mystery for now.
J gave him a small salute with his two forefingers and swept the money into his left hand, calling the order back to his two coworkers. One, a lanky blonde with a dusting of freckles, plucked the stainless steel portafilter and began to steam it for a new shot of espresso. The other, a young man with impressive biceps and a beanie pulled almost down to his eyebrows, didn’t even bother to look up from where he was arranging stacks of black reusable to-go mugs on the sale counter. His face was screwed up in concentration as he swapped cups from front to back, seemingly searching for the perfect aesthetic as he lined up the generic mugs in a pyramid formation.
Hyunjin hopped up onto a barstool while he waited for his order, looking around the room. The shop’s brick walls and warm lighting had been a refuge for him his last year of undergrad. He had spent countless hours here in the late afternoon, bits of gloss and clay speckled across his pants as he guzzled down coffee after coffee trying to stay awake and inspired. His taste for coffee had gotten significantly sweeter in graduate school (though he still went for an americano every now and then), and he wholeheartedly blamed his newfound sweet-tooth on Seungmin.
“If you keep drinking three americanos a day, you’re going to go into cardiac arrest,” his friend had said to him, pulling him back from walking toward the counter for the upteenth time that day. The two had been “studying for finals”, which primarily consisted of Hyunjin sighing dramatically in between sketching and sipping on his coffee while Seungmin actually studied his notes. They had both been seniors, Hyunjin on track for acceptance to an MFA program at the university after graduation, while Seungmin had already gotten an offer from the neighboring university for their M.S. program in kinesiology and exercise science. While he was the only one of the two who had a concrete plan for the next two years, he was still pouring over his notes for his final exam, determined to retain as much information as possible on physical therapy exercises for patients in rehabilitation from ACL surgery.
“I need coffee, Min,” Hyunjin whined. “Or I’m going to crash and this stupid project will never get turned in, and then I won’t get into the MFA program, and then-” he took a deep breath before rushing out, “I’ll fail out my senior year, and then my family will disown me, and then I’ll become homeless, and my bone structure’s far too superior to be sleeping on the streets covered in-”
“You wouldn’t be crashing if you weren't practically injecting caffeine into your veins,” Seungmin countered. Hyunjin dropped his head into the crook of his arm, defeated.
“And stop spiralling, you’re not going to be homeless, you drama queen,” his friend said, highlighting another passage of his notes. “Your professor said she loved your progress with the last sketch, right? There’s no reason the final product won’t go over just as well.”
“But that’s the thing,” Hyunjin muttered, his words a little muffled by his arm. “Just because the sketch comes out well doesn’t mean the final piece will come out well, too. The primary sketch was only a third of the grade, the actual piece is the main portion.”
“Your pieces always look just like the sketches, Hyunjin,” Seungmin insisted. “When they don’t, it’s because they look even better. Just relax and trust your skills. You wouldn’t be top in the visual arts program if you sucked. You can’t have this kind of attitude when you’re in grad sch-”
“ If I get in!” Hyunjin whisper-shouted. “We still don’t know.”
Seungmin simply rolled his eyes at that. “Your professor is the one who encouraged you to apply, helped you get your letters of recommendation, is best friends with the program director, and is also on the decision board . They all love your work, you’ll get in and then you and I will suffer through graduate school at the same time and try not to set our apartment on fire.” Seungmin paused, thoughtful. “Think of it like this- it’s just like you’re taking an extra two years in college, only you’ll get a brand new degree along with it.”
Hyunjin was frustrated to find that this did, in fact, calm him down significantly. “You’re right, Min. Sorry for snapping at you.”
Seungmin snorted. “It’s no problem, Hyunjin. Just do me a favor and try migrating toward coffee with a little less caffeine, maybe?”
“ Less caffeine?” Hyunjin’s grip on his cold brew tightened.
“I know you get tired of me talking about health stuff but I promise that cutting back on your coffee addiction may help your stress levels,” Seungmin said. “Here, try my latte- if you add in a shot of vanilla, it’s really good.”
“ Order up !” a voice boomed out, shaking Hyunjin from his thoughts. It was hard for him to believe that it had already been a year since he had been grumbling to his best friend about getting into the program that was now his daily life. He collected his flimsy paper to-go cup from the counter and smiled at the worker before heading for the door. “Have a good day!” he threw over his shoulder. He was out the door before he could hear if J gave him a response.
✩ ✩ ✩
By closing time, Jisung was officially sick and tired of the smell of espresso. His cheeks hurt from smiling so intensely at the customers, and reading his manager’s shitty handwriting from the cheat sheet book all afternoon had given him a headache. The only bright spot of the day had been on lunch break, when Felix had guarded the back door while he and Changbin messed with the laptop that controlled the shop’s music. They had texted Chan a selfie with mischievous smiles, a thumbs up, and five more 3racha demos sprinkled into the store’s daily playlist.
However much he enjoyed bopping to his own verse in Hoodie Season while he took orders for overly sweet coffees, Jisung was getting really sick of his job. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy the workplace atmosphere- after all, he got to work with some of his best friends. Some afternoons, when they had almost nobody in the cafe, he and Changbin would freestyle while Felix tried to dance along to their ridiculous lyrics. Those were some of his favorite days, when he got to let go a bit and express himself and not worry about the crippling anxiety that was his future. He tried to remember that, in some ways, the coffee shop was the only reason he had even graduated at all after his parents cut him off. So yes, he was grateful for the job, but being a barista wasn’t exactly raking in money. If he and Felix had to resort to convenience store food for dinner again that night, he thought he would explode. His arteries would, at the very least.
Sure, he had been supplementing his income by selling some of his tracks on the street, but even then he was barely making rent some months. He could hear his parents in the back of his head, reminding him that “ Music will never pay the bills, Jisung! ”.
Even in the noisy cafe he could hear the way his mother sighed, the sound of his father slamming the bedroom door shut. He could feel the afternoon sun coming in through the window in their kitchen on what should have been the first day of spring semester, junior year. The person he would usually call for support was, of course, no longer available. No, he wouldn’t think of that. Not now.
Jisung could still remember his parents sitting him down at the table with angry eyes, insisiting that focusing on music as a career was idiotic. “You having to take a semester off should prove to you that music isn’t your future, Jisung. Look at where it’s led you so far,” They told him over and over that semester, any chance they could, that taking a break from school could be his chance to change his path. When he eventually clawed his way back to himself and signed up for summer classes to catch up, his parents were frustrated that their nagging had not swayed him. Music was his lifeline, and that wasn’t something he would easily abandon.
But to hear every day that he was throwing his life away slowly ate away at him, and he had hoped that moving out after college would relieve some of that pressure pulling him down. He didn’t understand how his parents had been able to kick him while he was down, those few months a blur of anger and sadness greater than what his parents usually brought into their home. They didn’t understand why he was so broken up, but they didn’t really seem to care either. They just wanted him to drop music, take up something more realistic . He got out, eventually, but it seemed that in the quieter moments at work, the scent of strong espresso would bring him right back to sitting at the kitchen table while his father drank his coffee and shook his head at him in disappointment.
A group of teenage girls pushed their way inside the cafe, elevating the noise level and shaking him out of his pity party. As he prepared himself to make a thousand more seasonally-flavoured drinks, he decided to push away the voices in his head. His parents didn’t know him, they never had. And they didn’t know what he had dealt with to get so far. A few rough months wouldn’t change his mind about chasing his dream.
Felix’s shift had ended before his, so as the clock inched closer to 5PM, Jisung nudged Changbin in the arm.
“You coming over tonight to eat with me and Felix?” he asked. “I’m not sure we have much other than ramen, though.”
Changbin shook his head. “Sorry Ji, Chan wanted to cook tonight. Said we need more ‘roommate dates’ together since he doesn’t see me much now that he’s full time at the label.”
Jisung nooded, ferocious pride mixed with a small flare of jealousy rising in him. Ever since Chan had signed on as a producer full-time at Silver Stone Records, he knew that the two roommates didn’t get as much time together. After working a two year internship, Chan had been promoted to a full producer. Changbin was one year into the same internship program now, but two application rounds and Jisung still hadn’t been accepted yet. As much as he loved his friends and thrived on their success, he had to admit that part of him was still bitter he hadn’t gotten into the program the same year as Changbin. The first time, he admitted that he wasn’t ready, a college sophomore with passion but mediocre lyrics. The second time, however. . . that had been out of his hands. Jisung pushed the ugly memories down.
“ Just wait one more year, ” Chan had insisted. “ Try again after you graduate .”
Jisung fought back the rush of embarrassment that came every time he remembered how he had fallen behind, but his friends were too kind to ever bring up the reason behind it. Instead, they all pointed to the next opportunity, focusing on the future with zeal. He had been working hard in the past seven months, building his portfolio and attending more underground music events. He felt in his bones that this next application round would be his.
As if he could read his mind, Changbin placed an arm on his shoulder.
“We’ll both get there, I promise,” he said with a small squeeze. “Your work will pay off one day. Just have faith.”
Jisung nodded, but his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. Thinking about his semester off had gotten him in one of his moods again and he just wanted to go home. He pulled the apron over his head, crumbling it into a ball as he stuffed it into his bag. He would definitely have to iron that tomorrow before his shift, but at this point he was so exhausted and so hungry that he didn’t care. That would be a problem for future Jisung.
He slung the canvas bag over his shoulder, calling out a goodbye to his friend as he rushed out of the shop, hoping to catch the bus back to his and Felix’s apartment before rush hour hit. He was so focused on getting to the bus stop in time, he didn’t even notice that his bag was a little lighter than usual.
✩ ✩ ✩
The next morning, Hyunjin was back on his regular daybreak coffee schedule. He found himself disappointed to find that the blonde barista from the day before had not been working- he probably only worked afternoons , he thought to himself. As the sun peeked through the trees, Hyunjin collected his regular caffeine fix and sauntered out of the shop to begin his walk to the university’s art studio.
The first half of the day passed with little inspiration, and he was starting to get frustrated. He needed to work on a new project, but zero ideas were coming to him. Usually, when he hit a creative block like this he would visit the dance studio, losing himself in movement for a few hours. However, he had tried that a few times last week and still nothing had come to him. It was like he had hit a brick wall.
Hyunjin wiped the paint from his hands as best he could, and pulled his phone from his bag. It only took a ring or two before he heard Seungmin say, “Hello?”
“Hey, I’m going to go off campus to grab some lunch, do you want a coffee before your afternoon PT session?”
Hyunjin could practically hear Seungmin smiling through the phone. “ God , yes please.”
“Not God,” Hyunjin joked. “But I’m glad you have such reverence for me.”
“Very funny. I have a new client today and my supervisor said I could run it solo since it’s not a major injury. I want to make a good first impression, but I’m so tired .”
“Yeah,” Hyunjin sighed. “Staying up listening to a new album will do that to you.”
“ Book of Us: Entropy is a masterpiece and you know it,” Seungmin insisted.
“Of course, I could hear it through the wall all night,” Hyunjin chuckled as he began walking across campus. “What kind of injury is it, that they’re letting you run it solo?”
“You know I can’t violate HIPPA, Jin, what kind of professional would I be? Privacy is a major issue in the medical community,” he huffed. After a beat of silence, he whispered, “But hypothetically, maybe coffee is the magic ingredient to a successful ankle rehabilitation?”
Hyunjin snorted. “One latte for the ankle angel, coming right up.”
As Hyunjin headed off campus, he couldn’t help but think of how proud he was of his roommate. He and Seungmin had been friends since they were young, both coming from a small town without much to do outside of school activities. They were an unlikely pair, Hyunjin the president of their art club while Seungmin was a student athlete, the star pitcher for the baseball team.
The unlikely pair met in a sixth grade english class, introducing themselves to each other with their english names before collapsing in a fit of giggles. From then on, they were inseparable. Hyunjin would cheer on his friend at every baseball game, and Seungmin kept one of Hyunjin’s first pottery pieces in his locker, a small pencil holder that leaned far too much to the left, and would proudly show it off to anyone who walked by. Years of shitty cafeteria lunches and study sessions and weekend sleepovers had built a strong brotherhood that Hyunjin wouldn’t trade for anything. They felt unstoppable.
Then, junior year of high school, Seungmin tore his rotator cuff.
It was devastating for him to hear that he couldn’t play baseball anymore, especially since he had planned on going to a university specifically for their stellar athletic program. Hyunjin had been Seungmin’s rock throughout the transition from athlete to a “civilian” as Seungmin had dramatically put it on a particularly bad day. Hyunjin drove him to his physical therapy sessions, and it was after one of these meetings that Seungmin first brought up the idea of studying kinesiology.
He threw himself into his studies, asking his own physical therapist questions about what kind of classes to take in college, and ended up accepting a scholarship to Seoul National University to join their pre-med program. As luck (or hours of research and a meticulous application portfolio) would have it, Hyunjin was also accepted to SNU and immediately jumped into their art scene. College was difficult, but the two had braved it together.
Hyunjin was proud of Seungmin working as a PT assistant, but he knew that the work was exhausting. Getting him a coffee was the least that he could do. And if he ran into the cute boy again… that would just be a coincidence, right?
After grabbing a bento box from the corner store for lunch, Hyunjin walked over to the cafe for the second time that day. A quick peek inside confirmed his fear that mystery barista was not working at all that day, but he stood by his promise of caffeine for Seungmin so he walked inside anyways. He was so focused on pulling his credit card out of his wallet that he didn’t pay very much attention to where he was walking. At least, not until he suddenly felt a splash of cold liquid run down his chest.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry!”
Hyunjin looked up, making eye contact with a pair of wide, panicked eyes. A boy with freckles was frantically trying to wipe off the iced coffee he had spilled all over Hyunjin’s white shirt, making little progress.
“No, I should have been looking where I was walking.” Hyunjin said, eyeing the growing wet spot on his chest. He would definitely have to use a stain remover on that. Did they have stain remover at the apartment? Maybe Jeongin had some at his dorm, he was the more fashionable one.
“Still, I’m sorry you ended up in the splash zone,” The boy said. “Here, we have some extra shirts in the back if you want. They have our logo on it, but at least they’re dry.”
Hyunjin offered a small smile. The guy- he introduced himself as Felix on the walk to the back room- was still obviously stressed, but seemed sweet. The room was a small storage closet, with a tiny desk and an even smaller chair, a short stack of books, and a small locker full of extra shirts and aprons.
“I’ll give you a minute to change,” the boy said as he handed Hyunjin a black t-shirt. It had a small logo on it, a cup of coffee with latte art and the words “Keopi Kong” in a small typewriter font, with the corresponding characters 커피 콩 beneath it.
“Can I make you a drink to make up for the trouble?” The boy asked. “It’s on the house!”
“Um, a vanilla latte please. To go,” Felix nodded so fast Hyunjin was worried he would hurt his neck. He shut the door with a small slam and rushed to the front to make the drink while Hyunjin changed.
Sighing, he peeled the wet shirt off his body, folding it so that the stain was covered and wouldn’t spread. As he leaned down to put the shirt in his bag, he accidentally knocked a cup full of pencils over on the table. He reached over to put them back and noticed a small notebook laying open face next to the stack of books. As he pulled on the clean shirt, he wondered if this was that book with all of the regulars’ orders that his new favorite barista had been using.
Leaning over, he inspected the writing. Surprisingly, he didn’t find various coffee orders, but rather line after line of gorgeous prose. At first glance he thought maybe somebody had written down their favorite poems or quotes, but he noticed that some of the lines were crossed out, some with notes written in the margins, and with others bearing smudges from overuse of an eraser. This was coming from someone’s soul , he was sure of it.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there drinking in the words, but it must have been a few minutes because suddenly Felix was opening the door, to-go cup in hand.
“One sorry-I-spilled-coffee-on-you-latte hot and ready to- oh, shit,” he said, taking in the scene in front of him. “You weren’t supposed to read that.”
“Did you write this?” Hyunjin finally tore his eyes from the book. “It’s amazing!”
“No, no, it’s not mine,” Felix shook his head, “But the person who did is super private, he doesn’t like people reading them before they’re finished. Um, how’s your shirt?”
“Oh, it’s no big deal,” Hyunjin insisted. “I’ll wash it tonight and it’ll be fine.”
Felix gripped the back of his neck anxiously, face a little white. Hyunjin felt bad for the guy, stress was practically oozing out of him at that point. Was spilling coffee on someone that big of an offense for the employees? He hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble, the guy seemed really nice.
“Don’t worry about the spill, Felix, seriously. Now I get to look like one of you cool Keopi Kong baristas.”
Felix laughed, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to rub the back of his neck.
“Here’s your latte,” he said quickly. “Again, I’m so sorry but thanks for being so cool about it.”
Hyunjin smiled at him, “Don’t mention it. I’ll see you next time!” he said.
Still a little worried about Felix getting reprimanded, he threw a few bills in the tip jar on his way out. Making eye contact with the shorter guy at the counter, he yelled, “Great service!”, probably a little too loud. He hurried out of the shop, before he could embarrass himself further, heading out to meet Seungmin.
✩ ✩ ✩
Felix watched Hyunjin as he walked out of the cafe, anxiety bubbling in his stomach. Changbin turned from the counter he was wiping down, frowning. “That was weird. Lix, you okay?”
Felix briefly considered not saying anything, but he knew himself well enough to know that he would explode if he didn’t get to talk this over with someone. And the person he usually talked things over with, was the person he especially didn’t want to find out about this.
“Um, Binnie,” he said cautiously, “Do you think Jisung would show me his lyric book?”
“No?” Changbin blinked at him, blankly. “You know how private he is after what happened. He practically bit my head off when I suggested we should read over his lyrics before we recorded the last song. He only shows Chan and I when they’re totally done.”
“Well,” Felix gulped, feeling dizzy. “What would you say if I told you that the regular that just left accidentally read through one of Ji’s songs?”
Changbin’s eyes widened, a frown growing on his face. They were both quiet for a moment, until Jisung himself rushed into the store for his shift.
“Hey guys!” he called, heading to the back room. “Sorry I’m a little late. I couldn’t find my lyric book- I think I must have left it here last night, I’m an idiot. Can you start a macchiato for me, I saw Number 17 walking over here when I came in!”
Felix and Changbin met each others’ gaze, silently agreeing to not bring it up. There was no reason to upset him, especially when Jisung would never have to find out.
✩ ✩ ✩
Hyunjin knocked at the door hesitantly. He would normally never interrupt Seungmin when he was with a client, but he didn’t want to just leave the coffee with the receptionist at the clinic. Seungmin had said it was fine when he had texted him, but he still felt awkward just walking in blindly. He knocked again, a little louder this time.
“Come in!” a voice called.
Hyunjin walked into the room to see Seungmin pressing his fingers to a bruised, swollen ankle. Attached to the ankle was a beautiful boy with dark hair and bright eyes, who said “You busted up, too?”
Hyunjin snorted. He liked this guy already. “Luckily, no. Just needed to drop off Seungmin’s caffeine fix, so he can then fix you.” He handed the coffee over to Seungmin, who took it gratefully.
“I’m Hyunjin.” he offered.
“I’m Minho.” The pretty boy waved from his position on the exam table. “Seungmin mentioned you’d be coming by to put some pep in his step. I’m a dancer so I kind of need this ankle in tip-top shape, as soon as possible. If coffee will help, you can come to PT anytime.” he laughed.
“Wait, did you dance at SNU?” Hyunjin asked.
Minho’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Wait, were you in the freshman class when I was a senior? You look so familiar!”
Hyunjin nodded, vaguely remembering the boy in front of him as one of the seniors he had been far too shy to introduce himself to when he first joined the dance team. It had been a few years, but Minho’s face was one that was hard to forget.
“Yeah, I remember you!” Minho said with a smile. “Sorry we didn’t get to chat much, I was auditioning for a few dance companies that year so I was super busy and didn’t get to know the new class as much.”
As Seungmin took a few long sips of his coffee, the two dancers swapped a few stories of their time dancing in college. Hyunjin explained that he was now a grad student, to which Minho had simply patted his head and said, “Godspeed.” Hyunjin assumed that was supposed to be a supportive sentiment.
“I work for a touring dance company now,” Minho said. “We do a few months at a time and I got this stupid injury during practice for our next rotation. It starts soon, so a fucked-up ankle isn’t exactly the best thing for me right now. If I don’t heal fast enough, I might have to stay and work at the studio for a rotation or two.”
“It won’t be a bad recovery,” Seungmin insisted, finishing another sip of his coffee before returning to analyzing the ankle. “But you need to give it time.”
“I’m thinking just like a week or two,” Minho insisted. “You could honestly tell them I’m all clear and I could go dance right away. Seriously, it’s all- FUCK!”
Minho jerked his head back, eyes scrunched in pain at where Seungmin had pressed down on a particularly sensitive spot. The aspiring physical therapist sighed, removing his hands from Minho’s foot.
“I think we’ve got a bit of a way to go before you’re back dancing full time,” Seungmin said gently. “Just take it slow, Minho-shi, you don’t want to hurt it even worse by putting pressure back on it before you’re fully healed.”
“Call me hyung,” Minho waved his hand at them. “You’re fixing me after all. You have to touch my gross dancer feet.”
Seungmin leaned back, taking another gulp of his latte. “You want to talk gross?” He pointed at Hyunjin. “One time when we were in undergrad, Hyunjin was working on this painting and when he turned to get a different brush, he fell off his stool and dislocated his shoulder. I had to pop it back in for him in our apartment, because his student health insurance plan hadn’t started yet.”
Minho grimaced. “Nasty.”
“It’s not my fault!” Hyunjin pouted. “The stool was wobbly.”
“Yeah,” Seungmin snorted. “Let’s blame the stool.”
The three of them ended up chatting for a few more minutes, but then Hyunjin had to leave to get back to campus for his evening class. Minho gave him a big smile, promising they would all get together soon.
“See you tonight, Seungmin,” Hyunjin said, “Good luck with your ankle, hyung.”
✩ ✩ ✩
Late that night, when the two roommates were crowded around some ramen, Seungmin spoke up.
“Hey, thanks for the coffee earlier. I probably would have fallen asleep on Minho without it.”
“No problem,” Hyunjin insisted. “He was so fun to talk to. And to be honest, I was kind of looking for an excuse to go back to the cafe in the afternoon.”
Seungmin squinted his eyes. “Why were you looking for an excuse?”
Hyunjin blushed. “Uh, no reason. Just felt like coffee?” his voice hitched at the end, betraying him. Seungmin slowly lowered his chopsticks.
“Was it a boy ?”
“Oh my god, Seungmin, it’s not always a boy.” Hyunjin grumbled.
Seungmin had the audacity to snort at that. “Of course not, sometimes it’s a girl. Like when we had to go to that pizza place every Wednesday for lunch last year, it was definitely for the shitty pepperoni and not because you thought the girl bussing tables was, and I quote, ‘precious’.”
“Moving on ,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I actually found something better than a boy or girl at the cafe today.”
“Money?” Seungmin paused, his chopstick midair.
“Inspiration!” he said proudly.
Seungmin returned to his ramen, poking the egg so that the yolk dripped into the broth. “What kind of inspiration?”
Hyunjin thought back to the book he found. “One of the employees accidentally spilled some coffee on me, and he took me to the back room to let me change shirts-”
“I was wondering why you were suddenly wearing Keopi Kong merch.” Seungmin said.
Hyunjin ignored him, “So while I was swapping shirts, I found this notebook that someone had left in there-”
“You were snooping through a random person’s stuff?”
“ No ,” Hyunjin groaned at the second interruption. “It was literally open on the table, I just read a few lines while I got changed. But get this- they were like lyrics or a poem or something, and they were SO good. I had been struggling with my project all day and God blessed me with some random Shakespeare in the back room of a coffee shop for my struggles.”
Seungmin slurped more noodles into his mouth, then asked, “What was the poem about?”
“Trying to find your way in the world, like exploring yourself and expressing yourself. It was exactly what I was looking for. After I left you and Minho, I got like half of the project done in my ceramics class this afternoon.”
“Oh!” Seungmin looked up. “Speaking of Minho, he said we should all get coffee together after his PT next week. Apparently, some of his friends work at Keopi Kong, he said he would introduce us. Maybe we can get a friendship discount.”
Hyunjin smiled. “We’re not going to be reclusive anymore?”
Seungmin rolled his eyes. “I’m going to tell Jeongin you said we have no friends.”
Hyunjin smacked his arm. “I’m just saying it’ll be nice to have some people to hang out with. Jeongin is in his senior year, he’s crazy busy. But he knows he’s still our best friend.”
“Well, maybe if you’re lucky,” Seungmin snickered “we’ll find your Shakespeare and your sculpture will impress him. What’s the worst that could happen?”
He had no idea.