“After all that he just marches out like he had any right to be there in the first place. Honestly, Uppie, if any of us are in need of emotional therapy it's him. Who marches to someone's house at night just to shout? No one who's got their life together, that's for sure.” Himchan sighed and leaned back in his chair. It was a cute pastel green with a comfortable cushion on the seat, however the curved back wasn't quick high enough to support him and he quickly found himself leaning forwards instead, crossing his arms over the table.

Jongup hummed thoughtfully, not replying.

“Don't tell me you agree with his nonsense.” Himchan eyed the dancer suspiciously.

“Well...” Jongup mulled his words over in his head, twizzling the straw of his milkshake around. “It was really over-dramatic of him to come to your house to shout. That wasn't necessary. He didn't need to be that harsh either.”

“This isn't sounding like a disagreement.”

“Um... You have been... A little bit... Well, I mean, since your break up-”

“Okay, yes! I've been a ! Fine! But what he said about you being my boy toy or whatever was definitely out of line.” He huffed out of his nose and took a sip of his own milkshake.

“Well, you are kind of my sugar daddy,” Jongup said thoughtfully.

Himchan choked. “What?”

“The only time I spend money with you is when I bring snacks for movie nights. Otherwise you make me food or buy me new clothes. You spent so much on me on my last birthday I thought you must have won the lottery.”

“I live alone! I'm single! I have spending money!”

“That's fair enough but you only spend money on me. I'm not complaining! I love this jacket-” he pulled at the front of his zip-hoodie that Himchan had bought him only the month before “-but you do basically just buy me things.”

“That doesn't-” Himchan was still choking. “That doesn't make me your sugar daddy! That's me being a generous friend.”

“Sugar daddies are basically generous friends though.”

“Jongup. You do understand that there's more to it than that, right?”

“Yes. Without the . But instead I give you company and a shoulder to cry on.”

He snorted. “I don't need a shoulder to cry on.”

Jongup raised an eyebrow.

Himchan stared back, still looking amused.

Jongup raised the other eyebrow.

Himchan's expression fell into a firm stare.

Jongup propped his chin in his hands.

Himchan frowned.

Jongup wiggled his eyebrows.

Himchan's face fell. “Oh my God.”

“You get it now?”

“Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“You get it.”

“All I've done is cry at you for the past... Sixteen months!”

“Wow, that long already?”

“Augh .” He buried his face in his hands. “. I'm sorry, Uppie. I'm a terrible friend.”

“Nah. You're just going through a rough patch.”

“A rough patch for over a year?”

“Well... It was more like the entire time you were with your ex up 'till now.”

Himchan stared at him between his fingers.

“Hey. It's fine. You've had the revelation. Now you can start afresh. Maybe you can get back with that guy.” Jongup bounced his eyebrows suggestively.

“No.” Himchan straightened up, hands settling around his drink.

“No?”

“No. Definitely not. No way. I can't put him through... Me... Ever again.”

“Um. Okay? That sounds really stupid.”

“I have to just stay away from men. All men. I can't let anyone get close to me.”

“This sounds like the exact opposite of what Youngjae told you to do. In fact I think this is what he was warning you about.”

“You don't count as 'men'. I'll keep you around, don't worry.”

“Wow. Thanks. That really comforts me. I lied. It doesn't. I don't want to be your only friend, I'm only just handling being one of the few people who actually still talk to you.”

“This is it. My new life. Never to cause trouble again.”

"Um?"

“I'm going to change my whole life around. all my beauty products. caring what people think of me.”

“I- I don't know where you're going with this.”

“I'm a changed man, Jonguppie, and it all starts tonight.”

“Whatever you're planning, please don't.”

“Nope! It's settled.”

Jongup sighed heavily and shook his head a little at Himchan's proud expression. “Fine,do whatever you like. Just don't get yourself hurt, okay?”

“Please,” Himchan scoffed, returning to his milkshake, “I'll be fine.”

Yongguk sat nervously at the restaurant, turning his glass around between his fingers, leaving trails in the condensation that had gathered on the bottom. His shirt was buttoned a little higher than he usually would bother with, and his hair slicked back with a shine to it he wasn't quite sure if was appropriate or just silly. He'd foregone the tie and allowed himself at least two simple, understated rings. Smart-casual, right? That's what you wear on a first date, right?

...Wherever his date was.

He shook the thought from his mind. They were only a few minutes late, no more than ten. They'd probably had trouble with traffic or set off late. Nothing to worry about. This is a risk you take with blind dates: they have no way of waning you if they'll be late. He'd just have to wait.

He sipped his drink.

He looked around at the other people eating and talking.

He waited.

He glanced at his phone. Fifteen minutes late. Not too bad.

He watched a small child sneak some of the vegetables off their plate onto the plate of the child beside them. The unsuspecting presumably older sibling didn't notice this minor evil deed.

He checked his phone again. Twenty minutes.

A couple a few tables away were in the middle of a tiff. At first he thought them a man and woman, but after a moment of casually listening he realised that the man was actually a very boyish girl, which seemed to be the main cause of concern. The tomboy was defending her right to go out and play football with her male friends regardless of what the other girl's friends thought of it. He found himself internally rooting for her.

Half an hour.

A few waiters were eyeing him as they walked past, carrying trays of drinks and food to the tables around him. He sipped his drink. He had to make it last. He wasn't going to order before his date arrived. That would be rude.

The older sibling was complaining about the amount of vegetables in their food. The young child was looking incredibly smug. The parents were mostly ignoring them.

Fourty minutes.

A waiter asked if he was ready to order. He explained he was still waiting for someone. The waiter nodded with a strange, sad expression, and left him in peace.

The tomboy seemed to have won the tiff, looking pleased as the other girl took her hand and nodded a little as she spoke. They smiled at each other. He felt a small warmth as he watched them.

Fifty minutes.

All of his ice had melted, diluting the last mouthful of his drink into a strange off-coloured clear liquid.

Waiters were actively watching him now.

The family of the young child gave him pitying looks as they pulled their jackets on and left.

He saw the girls lean in a little closer to whisper, then both glance his way.

An hour.

He swallowed the last mouthful of his drink and sighed. Hi signalled a waiter and asked for the bill. The waiter nodded solemnly. He tipped heavily.

As he headed to the doors, pulling his jacket on, he heard two waiters whispering to each other.

“His date came to the door you know.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Took one look at him and left.”

“Don't blame them. He looks like a gangster.”

“He tipped well, though.”

“Probably drug money.”

He yanked his zip up and shoved the door open, saying nothing as a small chorus of 'thank you for coming!'s followed him out. He stuck his hands in his pocket and pulled his hood low over his head, then marched his way home and swallowed the bitter wedge in his throat.

He bought a large bottle of cider on his way home and had finished it by the time he got in through his front door.

Soundtrack: Ed Sheeran - All Of The Stars