Go to a different dorm building but the same unit number as your own - Sungjong, the elusive tea brewer and coffee maker who was warm to everyone but cold to himself.  ___________________   When my seniors told me that college days would be "gone in a daze", I didn't expect it to be literal. At the very least, I would expect to end my freshman orientation week in a more sober state. I couldn't recall anything that happened that night, nor how I manage to stumble against the weight of my-similarly-drunk-friends all the way back to the dorms. We reeked of alcohol and was an unsightly mess. Yet our minds were dancing on cloud nine, too lost to bring ourselves back to senses. I must have left them at some point, probably by the road as they tumbled and fell. Did I laugh then? Probably. I could be mean when I get drunk. Being drunk that night was accidental. I hardly drink, so when my friends tested my limits, it didn't take long for the alcohol to overcome my system. Miraculously, I stayed on my two feet all the way back to the familiar sight of the dormitories. Anything thereafter, I heard from him in time to come.    - ∞ -   Summer must have come early, because the smell of flowers and sweetness was in the air. My head was swooning as I spun amidst the field of daffodils, immersing myself in the flora and fauna of this immense field. The sunlight warmed my face on the left in curious shapes of horizontal rows, as if it was shining through the blinds of a dorm room instead of the sky above. I opened my eyes to take in the beauty of everything, the beauty of -    the blonde boy sitting beside me now, gently pouring a cup of floral tea into a delicate porcelein teacup.    There was no daffodil or countryside view, the summer breeze in my dreams was a result of the ceiling fan spinning overhead. Yet the aroma of flowers was nonetheless surrounding me, and I felt comfortable snuggling in the bed, just soaking the smell of the brewing tea into every muscle of my tired body. The party last night still left me fatigued. My room was redecorated with a professional kitchen shelf apparel meant for a myriad of tea displays, ranging from floral to Chai to Japanese Sencha. A few tea sets of different purposes and cultures of tea ceremony lined neatly at the top of that shelf. The clothes hanging in my currently open closet were slightly oversized but all fashionable. They were simple hues of pink and baby blue, which were colours that did not usually appear in my life. A huge Teddy Bear was resting in my arms, with my chin comfortably resting on its shoulder. Beside me, a boy was brewing tea at utmost efficiency and precision, as though he was born to do all this with perfection. He was quiet and gentle in every move, yet the focus in his eyes throughout the process was passionate and unfathomably intense.    What a beautiful room I have.    I have...   I have!?   I regretted as soon as I sat up abrupt on the bed. What I thought was a gorgeous revamp of my hideous slump turned out to be the room of this boy beside me. My sudden action did not scare him at all, though he did break out of his intimate trance with teamaking. He turned  to me, and retracting the fierceness in his eyes a moment ago, he asked, "Are you feeling better?" His voice was soft, just like his demeanor.    "Who are you?" I said through winces. My head was pounding at me and I had to rest a finger on my temple. The boy sighed and passed me the cup of tea that he had freshly brewed. It was lemon ginger.    "It'll help calm you down and probably do away with the headache."    I hesitated for a moment before accepting it. It was nice and warm, but since I did not know who he was, I just sat there taking in the heat of the cup, and also its beauty.   "I know what you're thinking. Okay wait, I take that back. I know you're probably not thinking right now, but here's what happened. My name is Sungjong, and this is Block B of the dorms. You walked into my room yesterday and pretty much fell asleep on my bed while I was at my desk. And because I have no idea who you are, I couldn't bring you back." He ended his explanation with a reassuring smile. I took a sip of tea then.    There was something about him that made him as elusive and fleeting as that smile was. It left odd feelings in me. It was both of immense warmth, like the feeling of being loved, and at the same time a sense of instinctive pity for him. He was so beautiful. Yes, beautiful. There was something inherently innocent, kind, yet sad about this boy.    "I'm sorry for intruding." I felt the compulsion to apologise just looking at him.    "No worries. Do you remember where you dorm is?"   "Block A. I must have stumbled up the wrong block or something."    "Maybe the same unit number," he said. He turned his attention back to the exquisite teapot. "Do you like the tea?"    "It's amazing. Do you really love tea?" This morning conversation was really comfortable. It was fall, but I felt like it was going at the light-hearted pace of spring, and the tea in my hands a comfort food for winter. I felt oddly safe with him, even though the absurd situation would have been full danger alert. Drunk girl. In a boy's room. A boy who was an elusive beautiful tea-maker.    "I really do. If you like tea, come find me sometimes. Or the cafe near school? Right along the streets near the Architecture Faculty buildings? Better tea than booze right?" He said all these while pouring himself a cup of tea, and turning back to his homework on the desk, which was freakishly neat like the rest of the room was.    "I will," and I took another sup of the lemon ginger in my hands.    - ∞ - Sungjong was a sweetheart adored by everyone. It was easy to like Sungjong, because he treated everyone with such warmth and sincerity, it was simply hard to have anything against him. We were in the same freshman year, yet at least half the school knew him already. After that morning I woke up, I realised fate had made us unlikely friends simply because we shared the same unit number across different blocks. I needed a part-time job to last through the semester, so he gladly helped me with getting a spot in the cafe.    Sungjong was the perfect combination of a college girl's ideal boyfriend. He was humble to the noonas and caring towards the Dongsaeng, yet he could connect so well with the guys too. Our cafe was practically always full because of him. He was just the blonde quiet barrister and tea-maker behind the counter, who would drop you a line of encouragement as he passed you your order. He was warm to everyone.    I mentioned that we were unlikely friends for several reasons. I was a rather boring girl in terms of dressing up, and my closet was stuffed with an assortment of standard T-shirts and jeans that of random brands and uncoordinated colour spectrum. My room was almost a mess with magazines, assignments that I often misplaced and sports anime posters. So when I turned up to meet my current employer for the first time, he laughed, "It's like you guys switched your roles." Which was what made us friends that united in solidarity. I hated it when people forced "roles" on me, and so did Sungjong. When the chief left I turned to him, "Can't I dress in a black T-shirt and play basketball just because I'm a girl?"    "Can't I be a superstar barrister and tea brewer just because I'm a blonde and downright gorgeous male?"   With a soft giggle and hi-five, we became the closest friends.    We barely talked during work hours because it was so busy, but on occasions I turned to catch a glimpse of him. I didn't know why, but there was always something in me that compelled me to look over the counter to see him at work. Because if you discounted the numerous brief moments of him talking to some customers, Sungjong always had a lonely back. The moment someone left the counter, and he was alone again with tea or coffee in his hands, the warmth would retract and recoil into that thin body, and an air of loneliness and coldness would take their place. They were fleeting moments, but they always pierced me. He was like a magnet; two polarities, yet I would always stick to him either way.    - ∞ -   Once we returned to Sungjong's room to watch a movie after work. It was one of those days when we visited each other, which was every other day anyway. (Eventually he said he's had enough of my room, since it was too messy. So it's just his room now.) The movie was really good and something profound, but I wasn't taking it all in since it was one of those French artsy films.