Namjoon opens the taxi door as he steps onto the wet concrete. His eyes scan the grand buildings with the sound of students chattering in the background.

“Seoul University,” he recalls his father saying every time he told his parents that he got accepted to Tokyo University.

He knew his parents were prideful of their national identity, but they were the ones who decided to move to Japan when he had turned ten years old. “Family business,” was their excuse. Namjoon was never the one to object but when he heard his parents’ plan for immigrating, running away from home without saying a single word was his form of protesting. He figured that would stop them. But it didn’t. They found him a few hours later, sitting outside his friend’s house. That was the last time Namjoon had seen her; his first love.

As Namjoon grew older, he found first loves to be overrated as he realized that it was just a concept with no real meaning behind it. Namjoon likes to think objectively and dwelling over the past, over someone who he hasn’t contacted or spoken to in nine years is just pointless. He shakes his head and looks ahead of him. This is what matters; his education, his future.

Namjoon’s first day at the university goes relatively well, considering the fact that his Korean is a little rough around the edges, having grown up in Japan for most of his conscious life. But he figures he’ll get by. He’s studying most of his courses in English anyway. Namjoon taught himself English so he could watch his favourite movies without having to find subtitles. His father thought it was a waste, but his mother knew he was a genius. Having finished at the top 1% in the country, getting into Seoul University with a loaded scholarship was a walk in the park for Namjoon.

As he finally finishes the first half of his classes for the day, Namjoon decides to take a little coffee break. His eyes are still not fully open because of jet lag. He makes his way to the nearest café in the Arts building and gets in line. The line looks unbearably long and Namjoon almost wants to give up after ten minutes of waiting but from the corner of his eye, he can see the only employee running back and forth behind the counter, trying to handle all the orders at once. Namjoon lets out a sigh and continues waiting.

Finally, when it’s his turn, Namjoon walks up to the counter. The employee is in the back, invisible to Namjoon. The boy starts becoming a bit impatient as he taps his fingers on the counter. “Is someone going to take my order?” he mutters under his breath before biting his lip in frustration. His class is about to start in 10 minutes and at this rate, he’s definitely going to be late.

The employee finally shows up from the back, face covered under his cap. “What would you-“

“1 medium dark roast.” Namjoon says, not even sparing a glance at the guy.

“What about milk?” He asks.

“None.”

“What about sugar?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “None.”

“Will that be all?”

“Actually, make that a large.”

“Sure. Your total is…”

Namjoon spaces out a bit when the employee looks up from the order screen, his cap no longer covering his face. He hadn’t noticed it before but now that he has a clear view, Namjoon realizes how gorgeous this guy is.

“Damn…” he whispers aloud.

“Is that too much? Should I change your order to a medium?” the employee asks.

Namjoon snaps back into reality and shakes his head. “No, large is good.”

-

The professor’s monotone voice serves as a lulling background for Namjoon to lose himself in his thoughts as he recalls the guy from that café. He didn’t take a good look at his nametag and he regrets that but he shakes the thought away quickly. Namjoon look at the time. It’s almost 6pm which means he’ll be done for the day. He can finally go back to the dorm and sleep, unpacking can wait.

On his way to the dorm, Namjoon walks by the Arts building. A part of him wants to stop and peak inside the building. He stop for a minute before shaking his head and making his way to the dorm.

-

“Did you file all the administration logs into the central database?”

“Yes, and I finished rounding up the estimate for this month’s−“

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

“Not at all, sir. Is there anything else I can do?”

“That’s all for today. I’ll see you next week.”

“Okay. Take care, professor.”

“Good night, Jin.”

Jin walks out of Professor Park’s office, letting out a small sigh that he wasn’t aware he was holding in. It’s already 10 now and he has to finish his weekly assignment for geography class. It’s the only class he really doesn’t care much about but for a student on a scholarship, his financial status depends on his GPA. He can’t afford to slack. He did enough of that in his first year and he recalls the disastrous debt he had piled on from not being able to keep up with the scholarship for that semeste