Kyungsoo used to tell himself that he didn’t have many regrets. Despite his tendencies to close himself off and chase people away, he always tried his best to grab chances he might regret not taking. His life had been a series of making the best out of a bad situation. One bad experience inevitably lead to a multitude of outcomes and Kyungsoo’s goal was to make sure it wasn’t a bad one. So yes, Kyungsoo didn’t have a lot of regrets.

Then again, he had found himself wandering into the same old gas station at the edge of town despite living close to the town center and it taking approximately 34.6 minutes (but really, who’s counting?) for one to go from his house to the station by foot, which Kyungsoo, unfortunately, had to do due to not owning a car and always forgetting to bring enough change for the bus. So what brought him here? Well, there was the solitary aspect of it, no one but him, the bored-out-of-their-mind cashier and the occasional customer, but other than that he couldn’t tell. If he had been prone to think in clichés he’d probably think he was meant to be there. Standing in a dirty, bright orange coat whose shine had long since left in an almost run-down station, eating possibly the worst hot dog he had ever been so unlucky to taste and staring out of a window almost as dirty as his coat.

Maybe, if this was a cliché and he was meant to be there, the reason he was there was so he would meet the man currently heading to the door. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and a head of bright platinum hair stood out of the popped up collar of his leather jacket. True to the cliché trope playing in Kyungsoo’s head, he just had to be wearing a leather jacket as he went to a gas station whose neon lights either flickered or were completely dead. Kyungsoo heard himself scoff quietly enough for the other two people in the station to miss it as the stranger asked for a pack of cigarettes and not even high grade, they managed to get addicted to the cheapest brand or, as Kyungsoo liked to call them, tarpaper. Within only a few moments, the stranger had gotten his vice and was already walking past Kyungsoo’s window again. Just as Kyungsoo’s eyes were about to lose sight of him, he decided to turn around, meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze full on. As you’ve probably guessed, Kyungsoo wasn’t one for clichés and especially not the Bad-Boy-In-A-Leather-Jacket ones so when the owner of the trope let a small smirk pull at the corner of his lips, Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and simply finished the last two bites of his shouldn’t-be-served hot dog. He jumped off his chair just as the stranger rounded the corner and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. The wrapper from the hot dog lay discarded on the almost-bar he had been sitting on as he walked out of the gas station into the cold evening air, forgetting to zip up his coat as one is wont to do when you find yourself a main character in a cliché. Or maybe Kyungsoo wasn’t the main character but the cashier was. It was well enough, Kyungsoo would make a lousy main character.

Some things, Kyungsoo thought to himself often, couldn’t be changed. The Earth revolving around the sun, for instance, couldn’t be changed and, apparently, Kyungsoo sitting in a gas station, eating a horrible hot dog while wearing a dirty, orange coat in front of an equally as dirty window couldn’t be changed.
Kyungsoo contemplated what exactly had brought him to this station once again. It certainly wasn’t the lively atmosphere nor was it the warm smile of the cashier since he was fairly certain that the cashiers had never so much as let their lips twitch, let alone smile.

Still, here he was, picking at food he definitely shouldn’t be eating only to go back home as soon as he finished the monstrosity. He found himself hoping something --anything-- would happen just so he wouldn’t have to face the reality of his extremely boring life. His prayers seemed to be answered as the Cliché walked past the window. Again, they made eye contact and again, Cliché smirked and just for good measure, Kyungsoo rolled his eyes again.

Cliché seemed to be here for more than just tarpaper this time as he browsed the racks, not-so-subtly shooting his gaze towards Kyungsoo a couple of times. Kyungsoo admits, the attention was unwanted and uncomfortable but at least it was something out of the norm and that was welcomed wholeheartedly.

Cliché browsed for a full minute before going to the cashier and that was more than enough time for Kyungsoo to finish his disgusting hot dog, stand up and zip up his coat as he walked towards the exit. As he passed the register, he caught a simple “Keep the change” from Cliché who then proceeded to walk right behind Kyungsoo. Cliché was agreeably taller than Kyungsoo by a margin but the breathing Kyungsoo was so sure was landing directly on the back of his head was almost certainly a figment of his imagination. Due to the automatic doors, the two of them were forced to come to a halt. Kyungsoo only felt mildly uncomfortable at the thought of Cliché using the full second it took for the doors to open to get a closer look at him. As soon as they did, open that is, Kyungsoo dashed out and set a quick pace as he headed back home.

After only a few meters, a motorcycle rushed past him with an appropriate gust of wind that made Kyungsoo shiver. He didn’t get a chance to see the cyclist but there was no doubt in his mind that there Cliché went. Back into town to lead a life most likely just as mundane as Kyungsoo’s own.