Kibum had begun a routine.

    
    Every weeknight, he found himself walking through whatever weather, in whatever situation down to the one quiet refuge he knew of– a small cafe off of seventh street. He hunkered down to get as much work done as possible, and thanked God for the opportunity to get away from his loud friends and roommates. When he’d first begun visiting the hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, he went during the afternoon, right after his classes would end for the day, depending on the day and the class. Eventually, that became inconsistent and annoying to him, so he thought it over and decided that weekdays in the evening, usually after dinnertime, were the best option.

    Kibum found that this switch was genius. He’d get to go home and change out of his usual street or work clothes into something more comfortable, usually a sweatshirt and jeans, or if he’d come from dance sometimes even sweatpants. On top of the comfort factor, he loved the idea of getting a period of time between being at work and home where he could simply unwind and be silent. He didn’t see himself as too much of an introvert, but this worked wonders for his anxiety issues– especially when midterms and finals came around.

    When he made the switch, the first thing he noticed was the difference in the people around the small, dimly lit shop. The people were quieter, more focused on their own individual tasks, but still striking up enough chatter to make it comfortable, and the place was not nearly as busy and bustling as in the afternoon. The customers would either buy their drinks and leave, or buy their drinks and sit, rather than the in-between notion of milling around and talking to people. Of course, there were also new employees he began to notice as well.

    Really, Kibum didn’t want to pry too much, or seem creepy analyzing the population of the store, but he couldn’t help it with how often he ended up showing up there. The name of the man who worked the register, he came to learn, was named Jinki. He was short, somewhat stocky in stature, and had the brightest smile Kibum had ever seen in his life. Even his nametag had a smiley face drawn next to it, which added to the quirky charm of the clerk. He’d take the orders with that smile, and pass it along to the other worker behind the counter.

    The one who made the drinks was a distractible and sardonic, yet attractive and charming appearing man who was even shorter than Jinki was. Of course, Kibum thought this to himself as to not be rude, and wouldn’t dare mention it to the stranger. After a while he concluded that he wasn’t that under the average for height anyways, and it only seemed that way due to comparison to the third worker of the shift, a waiter and table buster who was at least six foot one and had the body of an abercrombie model.

    The only one of the three employees Kibum had spoken to was Jinki. Along with speaking to him to order drinks, he stuck up a few conversations on simple things as well as a few philosophical topics. The barista in the backdrop seemed to watch eagerly the entire time, but he never spoke up, simply hiding himself behind cups and espresso machines. Kibum found it a little amusing to watch eventually, as he’d do a lot to avoid speaking to anyone– and if he wasn’t mistaken, especially Kibum.

    By the third week of frequenting the coffee shop, he noticed small sticky notes, the kind that you’d put in books, showing up on his cups. Kibum had no idea who was putting them there, but he didn’t mind them– especially once he began to read the things printed not-so-neatly in pen.

    “You’re really gorgeous, do you know that? I like you a latte.”

    Kibum scoffed at the dumb pick up line and nearly laughed out loud at the ending– covering his mouth at the realization that it would be out of place to do so. He brushed back his black bangs and plucked the note off of his cup, putting it in his pocket to remember. He didn’t think much of it until the pattern continued the next day.

    “It’s cold out today, so thanks for coming in today because now it’s a million degrees hotter”

    Kibum rolled his eyes and stared at the second note as if something on the paper would give him a hint as to who kept putting them on his drinks. He took a sip of his coffee, then thought for a while about how to approach this situation. He wasn’t one for blind dating– let alone blind, random pickup lines written on colored sticky notes, but he certainly was one for cheesy romanticism.

    He made up his mind.

    He took out a pad of sticky notes from his messenger bag and scribbled down a message in response, then sticking it to the table when he was ready to leave. Of course, he had no idea if the person was going to get the message, but he imagined it was worth a shot.

    “Well, I can’t say the same because I don’t know who you are. What a selfish thing to do, use my hotness to your advantage but not giving me anything? I hope I don’t freeze tonight, because it’ll be your fault, stranger.”

    -

    The third night he’d ordered a chai latte, and sat down at a booth in the back of the shop near the window. He examined the area closely before he’d sat down, thinking about potential candidates for the mysterious notes. Kibum knew that this was distracting him from studying and schoolwork, but it was interesting and fun and nothing of that sort ever came into Kibum’s life anymore. He was single, a college sophomore, and his roommate was the most under-dramatic and blunt person he knew. Taemin was a dance major, but man was he bad at expressing himself in any other way than that.

    The note for today was in pink ( wow, how sweet ) and had a small scribble of a heart in the corner.

    “I couldn’t think of any good puns or pick up lines today, I’m sorry, I hope you don’t still think I’m selfish. I was kind of distracted by that low hanging sweater you’re wearing... You look really amazing today, and I hope you have someone to tell you that all the time because it’s so true and you deserve to be told that you’re beautiful all the time. If not, well, you have me!

    If you don’t mind, what’s you’re name?

-jjong”

    Kibum felt like the revelation that the author was a man wouldn’t be too much of a surprised, yet he was surprised anyways. He’d never met anyone with the name “Jjong” before, and didn’t have much to go off of, but he respected the gesture. He pulled out a matching pink post it note and began to write something down as a reply, all the while smiling giddily.

    “Jjong? That’s a weird name, but I guess it’s shortened or a nickname or something, hm. Anyways, thank you, I really don’t try to look good coming in here because I feel like I don’t need to. Comfort is more important when studying, I guess. I don’t have anyone calling me beautiful– I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking. But, I don’t know, faceless stalkers aren’t usually my type, Jjong.

        -Key”

    Kibum used the fake name people called him in high school, partially to keep his identity safe, but also partially to get back at the stranger for using a fake name himself. He began to realize the notes slowly turning into longer paragraphs, and becoming far more personal and honest. He found it really intriguing.

    -

    The next day, a rainy thursday, Kibum came to the coffee shop a good thirty minutes late due to Taemin holding him hostage until Kibum came up with a good outfit for him to wear to a fancy family dinner party. He didn’t mind too much, but Kibum was definitely eager to see what the next note was going to say.

    He ordered his drink, as usual, and sat down in the back booth, as usual, and when the drink was finished he noticed a green sticky note this time, clinging to the back of the cup.

    “Key? Well, I guess if I use a nickname you can too, hm? That’s a cooler nickname than mine anyways. Ah… I really want to talk to you, like for real, but you’re so damn out of my league. Like, you’re model material and I’m a music major who hardly leaves his room. Are you sure you wouldn’t be too disappointed? Ah, Key, please, I’m suffering.

-your favorite socially anxious romance novel enthusiast, Jjong

PS. oh god i forgot an umbrella and i have to walk home. wish me luck <3”

Kibum couldn't help but smile at the quirkiness and honesty in the words written. Even if he didn't end up romantically involved with the stranger, the way he wrote made Kibum want to at least give him a good, long hug. He didn't want to look head over heels and cheesy, but he couldn't deny that every flirtation made him just a little more red, a little more distracted, and a little more eager to find out who “Jjong” was.

“Jjong, do you really want to flirt with me through sticky notes forever? Introduce yourself, be honest and quirky like you do in your writing and you’ll be fine. Besides, I do really want to see who you are. I’m a dance and theatre major by the way, music major isn't too far off!

-Key”

Kibum sighed, leaning back into his seat and looking out the large window at the heavy rain coming down outside. It certainly was turning into quite a storm, and Kibum was very glad he had a ride home. Of course, he was always prepared with an umbrella in his bag– his clothes were far too expensive to risk getting wet.

He started outside for a good long time, occasionally pausing to take a sip of his drink. No matter who Jjong ended up being, what he looked like, what he was like, he was definitely sweet and not someone who deserved to freeze to death outside in the rain. With all the sympathy Kibum could muster, he picked back up his pen and wrote down one last sentence.

“PS. I have an umbrella that you can use and I’ll leave it on the table here. Don't worry about it, I have a ride anyways.”

-

Friday was the one night of the weekday schedule that Kibum would occasionally skip coming to the cafe. Typically Taemin, or some of his other friends would ask to hang out, go to a club, sometimes even party on Fridays, but today was different. Today, Kibum decided to clear his schedule and stay at the coffee shop longer than usual for the night.

He’d come up with a devious plan. He came to the shop dressed nicer than usual, his black hair in slight waves as opposed to straight and natural, a black bomber jacket in tow, and ripped jeans he’d bought earlier that week. Why? Because tonight, he decided, was the day he’d finally be meeting the masqueraded stranger.

The idea was, if Kibum was to come in early, but stay until closing time, the person would end up being the last person left in the cafe, waiting for Kibum’s note. Of course there were ways this could fail– many, many ways– but Kibum shrugged that off with the excuse that it wouldn't hurt to try.

The note he got today was promising, and didn't make Kibum too guilty about exposing the anonymous man.

“Key, did you get the umbrella? It's over by your seat, on the bench at the booth. Thank you so much, you’re so wonderful for doing that. My roommate almost murdered me for forgetting to bring an umbrella so you really helped me out there. Also, oh my god, you look stunning. Can you be a little more considerate though? Your radiant glowing is kind of getting in the way of my tasks. Ahhhhh, anyways, I coulda assumed you were a dance major. You look like a dancer. I’m sure you're amazing…

-moonstruck and finding it really damn hard to focus because of you, Jjong”

Kibum found himself looking out the window, not because of anything interesting outside, but to hide from the shop that he was beet red at the plethora of compliments and flirtations raining down upon him. He collected himself, and noticed the color of the post it today, which was pink again, then flipped over the note to find that the back was covered with a simple heart with the middle partially filled in, as if rushed. Kibum found it cute, but couldn't help but question why he’d be rushed while in a quiet, slow place like a coffee shop. He quickly brushed off the question as overthinking.

Three hours later, Kibum had studied for all of his classes, and at this point was doodling shirt designs on a lined piece of notebook paper. He consistently was checking his phone’s clock for the time, and found it inching closer to 10:00pm ever so slowly.

Finally, though, students and other customers were packing up and leaving through the doors with the sound of a jingling bell. Kibum looked across the room, scanning the patrons closely. It took only a few seconds for Kibum to decide he needed another cup of coffee, and to make him stand up and cautiously stride towards the counter to order. No, he didn't want to miss anything, but the amount of surveillance he’d gone through was making his eyes tired.

Jinki seemed to be scribbling down numbers on a notepad when he walked up to the counter, and it took him a moment to realize he was the last customer before closing time. He looked up, dark brown hair looking somewhat sleepy and untamed, and circular glasses complimenting his creased, crescent eyes. He mumbled an apology, a bit shook at the surprise of a customer, but then smiled at Kibum brightly as ever.

“Hey, what can I get you?” He asked casually, used to Kibum’s presence around the cafe by now.

“Just another coffee, please, medium,” Kibum smiled in return, watching as the other two employees were squabbling behind the counter over something. The taller one of the two seeming to be trying to convince the other one of something, and the shorter brunette, stubborn, flustered, and resilient, not giving in.

Kibum nearly laughed out loud at the exchange, amused at how different they all acted once the customers started to fade out of the scene. Kibum watched them discreetly as Jinki made his order, the other two preoccupied with their argument.

“Here,” Jinki slid the drink over to Kibum on the opposite side of the countertop, “I’m not as good at being a barista as Jonghyun, but I hope that’s alright.”

Jinki smiled again, and Kibum thanked him. Something about that last sentence leaving a sweet taste on his tongue.

He decided to sit at the bar near the counters for a while, still observing the employees chatting back and forth as if he was observing wild animals in nature. He’d figured out all three of the names now– Jinki, Jonghyun, and Minho. He’d learned through observation that Jinki was the oldest of them, and Minho the youngest despite his ridiculous height. He’d also noticed that all three of them would work on schoolwork behind the counters when business was quiet– a few textbooks and a guitar case in the very back behind the counter. Squinting, Kibum could tell that one of the books was a music theory textbook lined with colorful papers sticking out along the edges.

It couldn't be.

The pieces began to click into place now, and Kibum had to fight himself in order to constrain from grinning or exclaiming with pride.

It was the barista.

Kibum hadn't noticed it until now, but Jonghyun was hands-down gorgeous. He wasn't tall, as he had noticed previously, but he was toned and tan, especially now that Kibum was seeing him with his work apron off. He had pretty eyes, a stunning white smile, and the kind of pouty lips that were, dare he say it, kissable. Kibum hated himself for thinking that, and he probably looked flushed, he he didn't care at that point. All he cared about was how lucky he got.

    Adrenaline turning against him, Kibum didn’t even take time to think of a plan, or what would be best to say and do. Instead, he quietly got up, walking with large, impatient steps to the other side of the counter, and stood with an expression that melded together about a billion different emotions.

    “Jjong,” Kibum stated, blunt and to the point, making Jonghyun and Minho both turn their heads in surprise. After a beat, Minho shoved Jonghyun’s arm and smirked, walking away before Jonghyun’s face lit up red with embarrassment.

    “Uh– yeah, that’s… me,” the brunette squeaked out, frozen still behind the counter. Kibum grinned, catching him completely off guard and only making him more flustered and embarrassed.

    “You really should have mentioned that you’re cute.”

    “Am I?”
 

    “Very.”

    Jonghyun finally moved, walking closer to the counter, then putting up his elbows on the granite. He smiled a small, sweet smile, still with a hint of pink tinting his cheeks, his chestnut brown hair falling slightly over his eyes.

    Kibum thought about that word he used, “moonstruck.” He’d heard it before, only a few times from songs and books, but in this moment he believed the term to be completely relevant. Frankly, Kibum had no idea what he was doing; running on impulse, and saying stupid, overconfident things due to the whole situation being so cheesy and romantic. He gathered his confidence, and thought that there wasn’t much to lose anymore, and out of pure instinct asked a question.

    “Are you free tonight?”

    Jonghyun smiled like a child opening presents on christmas day.

    “Yes, definitely.”