I was hired by the coffee shop where I had my first blind date.

I would’ve complained if it weren’t for the fact that out of the six jobs I applied for, this was the only location that called me back. Now I’m stuck wearing an apron and making lattes, and the only sunrise on my horizon is the possibility that I might see Dohee.

I haven’t seen her since I visited Yonsei. She did send me an updated photo of her design which she used for her school project, but I haven’t heard from her since then. I suppose she hasn’t had a reason to talk to me, and I haven’t thought up of a reason to talk to her, either. I have no idea how the process of dating works, so I figured my best option would be to read about it. I’ve read over ten articles advising men on how to pursue women. I’ve even rented books such as Ten Steps to Dating or How to Find the One. Most of the advice was too spirited, although there were some good material I found here and there. If Sehun knew about all this research I was doing, he would laugh at me until I was too old to remember to shut him up. And I can’t ask him for advice, either. The last time I took his dating advice, I made a girl cry.

And hyung isn’t any better. Hyung has had one girlfriend his entire life. They dated for two years when he was in high school, and then she moved to Japan to study abroad. I don’t think they’ve spoken since she called him one Christmas Eve and said she wanted to break up. If I ever ask him for advice, he’ll just tell me that a relationship is usually a good idea - at least, until the other person breaks your heart. That’s depressing advice.

So I’m stuck reading “How To” books. I tried writing a romance story in case I come up with ideas that will help me in my personal life, but romance has never been my forte, so I stopped writing about that pretty quickly. Instead, I began a new story, one about a boy who dreams of a better world and how those dreams eventually come true.

“I’d like an americano and a blueberry muffin, please.”

I type the order in, and the cash register responds with a happy bing. “That’ll be $4.32.” I accept the customer’s money, and then I prepare the order. I watch the customer as she takes it to a table of four girls, who glance at me curiously.

“Who’s that?” One whispers too loudly.

“I think he’s new. I’ve never seen him before.”

“He’s cute.”

I turn around to hide my reddening ears, almost bumping into my manager in the process. “What are you doing?” He grunts. “Watch the floor.”

“Right.” I rearrange the pastries in the display. The bell above the cafe door rings to signal a new customer. “Welco - “ I start to greet, but I choke down the words when I see that it’s hyung. Hyung would be furious if he knew I got a job. I was going to tell him after I made enough money to help with rent, but now I might not have that opportunity. Ducking my head behind the counter, I search left and right for my coworker, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

Through the display, I can see his feet move toward me. I close my eyes and pray - pray - he won’t be mad, but the cafe door opens again, and I am paralyzed.

“Taemin?” A pair of black Adidas sneakers come into view. “Hey! It’s good to see you!”

“Hey, Minho,” hyung responds. “What are you doing in this area?”

“I’m visiting my sister,” Minho says. “What are you doing here? I thought you hated coffee.”

Hyung exhales an easy laugh. “I’ve been needing it these days. I heard the coffee was good here, so I wanted to try it.”

“You’ll like it.” A pause. “I meant to tell you earlier, but Jongin was at Yonsei the other day.”

“Jongin? Why?”

“He said he was dropping off your textbooks. You haven’t … you haven’t told him yet, have you?”

Hyung’s feet shift towards the door. “It’ll just worry him.”

“He’s your brother. He should know.”

A sigh. “That’s not the point. The point is that I’m barely making it as it is. If I tell him, and with how he is ... it’ll just be a distraction.”

“He looks up to you a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

There’s a shuffle, and then, “Let me buy you coffee.”

“Is it a pity purchase?”

“You’re my friend. I’ll buy you coffee when I want to.” Neither of them say anything. With baited breath I prepare a speech, hoping my rehearsed excuse will suffice, when my coworker finally walks in from the back room.

“What are you doing?” She accuses.

I raise a finger to my lips, hoping she understands my signal. “I dropped something, Can you help those guests? I have to clean my hands.”

She pouts, and I rush to the back room before she can protest. I hope good-looking guys like hyung and Minho will be enough to make her forget about why I was hiding behind the counter.

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