Early mornings weren’t Seongwoo’s cup of tea.

Or at least they weren’t, before he started getting used to making Daniel his breakfast.

“I wonder why he never gets tired of these,” Seongwoo wondered to himself, carefully extracting two slices of piping hot bread from the toaster. “He has them for breakfast almost every other—OUCH!”

He retracted his hand immediately, burning himself as he picked at the toast with his fingers. “Dang, that hurts.”

He opened one of the drawers by the kitchen sink, rifling through its contents for a pair of tongs. “This is why I don’t like having to heat food while I’m half-asleep.”

And yet you do it anyway, he thought to himself. Because Daniel likes having toast for breakfast.

He walked over to the stove, inspecting the pan where a single egg was frying, and the pot where some bean sprout soup was simmering gradually to a gentle boil.

“Just a couple seconds more for the egg,” Seongwoo said to himself. “Since Daniel likes the yolk runny. And a couple minutes more for the soup. Though judging by the color of this, I’m guessing it needs a little more seasoning.”

He reached for the miniature jars sitting by the knife rack, sprinkling in some more chilli flakes and soy sauce. Daniel was a terrible cook, so over the weeks Seongwoo had come to assume the role of kitchen ahjumma, despite his profound disinterest in housework. His culinary skills were middling at best, but he’d grown to take pleasure in how much Daniel enjoyed almost every dish he could make, no matter how basic the recipe or how bland the taste.

Except the toast. Daniel was extremely picky when it came to his toast.

Once the egg had cooked to perfection, Seongwoo scooped it out of the pan with a spatula and settled it onto a plate next to a bowl of steamed rice, then proceeded to drain the soup out of the pot and onto a much larger bowl.

“Guess it’s time to wake him up,” Seongwoo said, satisfied with the outcome of his kitchen adventure. “Should’ve bought myself a new stick of lip balm.”

He made his way to where Daniel was sleeping soundly on his bed, as Daniel had evacuated his own and managed to turn it into a dumping site for used clothing. Seongwoo sat gingerly at Daniel’s bedside, watching for a short while how Daniel’s chest rose and fell as he slept. He reached out to Daniel’s cheek tenderly, smiling to himself as he leaned in to press a soft kiss against the tip of Daniel’s nose.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” he whispered. “Breakfast is served.”

“Mmm…” Daniel grumbled, rolling over to his other side, farther away from where Seongwoo was sitting. “Five more minutes…”

Seongwoo sighed to himself. “By five minutes, I’m sure you mean an hour-and-a-half, so it’s a no to that petition. Wake up now, or else the food will get cold.”

Daniel whined in response, grabbing at the blankets wrapped around his waist to pull them over and above his shoulders. “But I’m not hungry…”

Seongwoo’s left eye ticked in irritation. “And I didn’t haul my out of bed at six in the morning for this,” he said. “So do get up. Or else I’m tickling you until you beg for mercy.”

He waited a while for Daniel’s reply to his threat, and a few short moments passed by in silence, with only the sound of Daniel’s rhythmical breathing humming through the air.

“No, Peach…” Daniel grumbled after an eternity. “You can’t wee on the vice-principal’s sofa…”

“Unbelievable,” Seongwoo frowned, turning to the side to face the bedroom wall, where Peach was resting lazily atop its makeshift bed, heedlessly at the underside of its foot.

“Either you’ve committed a shameful deed at the vice-principal’s office,” Seongwoo addressed the cat bitterly. “Or Daniel’s actually rocked himself back to sleep.”

Peach mewled at him in response, which Seongwoo took to mean the cat was attempting to strike up an inter-species conversation with him.

Daniel straight up ignored your sorry lol, he heard Peach say in his head. Now deal with it.

“Well, this is infuriating,” Seongwoo huffed, returning his attention to Daniel. “But what of it, I’m not budging from your bedside until you get up and out of there for breakfast.”

He leaned in to land a kiss onto Daniel’s cheek, gradually making his way downwards as he trailed kisses by the side of Daniel’s mouth.

“Seongwoo-ya…” Daniel mumbled. “That tickles.”

“Is that so?” Seongwoo said. “Then good, because that’s the point.”

His lips moved against the sensitive skin by Daniel’s neck, planting one tender kiss after another.

A soundless giggle escaped Daniel, as he turned himself over a second time to wrap both of his arms around Seongwoo’s neck. “Stop it,” he pleaded drowsily, eyes still half-closed. “I promise I’ll wake up already.”

Seongwoo smiled to himself, gradually returning Daniel’s warm embrace. He wrapped an arm around Daniel’s waist, pulling him in and resting his head against Daniel’s neck, breathing in the scent of citrus fruit.

“Can’t I have one more before I get up…” Daniel murmured, still groggy from sleep.

Savor the moment, Ong Seongwoo, his inner voice chided. Because Daniel’s charming, impulsive side makes itself known only for the briefest of moments every morning, and only if he’s gotten at least ten hours of sleep.

“Anything for you,” Seongwoo said, smiling contentedly to himself, planting another gentle kiss onto Daniel’s cheek. “Did you want one on the lips, too?”

Daniel laughed softly, the sound of it setting Seongwoo’s unguarded heart aflutter. “Kind of.”

Seongwoo pushed away from Daniel slightly, as if to move in for another kiss.

Sorry, Dan, he thought to himself. But I wasn’t kidding about the food getting cold.

“Oh, Jisung-hyung!” Seongwoo proclaimed animatedly. He sat himself as far up as he could manage given the weight of Daniel’s biceps, addressing the vacant space between the door and the living room. “What are you doing in here so early in the morning?”

Daniel abruptly shot up from his supine position, mortified by the prospect of Jisung walking in on their impromptu cuddling session.

“NOTHING HAPPENED, I PROMISE,” Daniel cried out, loud enough for the occupants in adjacent rooms to hear. “I SWEAR WE—“

He paused abruptly, perplexed by his failure to locate Jisung by the doorway. His head snapped to either side, squinting at nothing.

 “Hyung?” Daniel called out. After receiving no response, he turned to Seongwoo, who flashed him a mischievous, knowing grin. “Wait a second…”

At that point, Seongwoo burst into fits of insurgent laughter, slapping at his thigh repeatedly. “How come you fall for it every single time?” he asked, watching as Daniel’s expression morphed from flat-out puzzlement into fierce outrage. “This is why I never, ever tire of pranking you.”

“You’re the worst,” Daniel accused. “The absolute worst.”

“Oh?” Seongwoo said, raising one dubious eyebrow at Daniel’s outburst. “I distinctly remember you whispering much the opposite into my ear last night.”

At this, Daniel blushed furiously from tip to toe. “I don’t recall any of that.”

Seongwoo flashed him a devilish grin. “Is that so?” he said, leaning in towards Daniel, angling his head slightly to the side. “I’m sure I can help you remember.”

“I…” Daniel stammered, unsure of what to say. “I, uhm…”

“Hmm?” Seongwoo said, watching Daniel’s lips as they parted, as if to allow him entrance.

“I…” Daniel continued, swallowing nervously. “I’m… I’m hungry.”

“Pfft,” Seongwoo said, stifling his laughter. “Well, that reversal was quick.”

“I’m a growing boy with growing needs,” Daniel explained, patting his tummy. “I’m sure you’d understand.”

“I do,” Seongwoo agreed. “I understand that your stomach’s a vortex through which absurd quantities of food pass through at one time, so don’t you worry. I’ve made you breakfast, as per usual.”

“Is it toast?” Daniel inquired, scrambling out of bed.

“Wow, how could you have possibly found out?” Seongwoo inquired, dripping with sarcasm. “Not that I make you the exact same thing every Sunday, because otherwise you’d go absolute bonkers.”

Daniel strolled expectantly towards the dining table, Seongwoo following closely behind him.

 “Is it charred at the edges?” Daniel added. “I like my toast that way.”

“Of course,” Seongwoo exclaimed, satisfied. “I’ve already mastered the art of setting the timer of that blasted toaster to just the right length, in order for me not to accidentally serve you ash on a plate. Not that you’ve never done the same for me once before.”

“I’ve never served you ash on a plate.”

“Oh? My apologies, because it sure did taste like it.”

Daniel grimaced at him. “You’re the worst.” He repeated, slurping at the contents of the soup bowl anyway. Seongwoo watched him as he did so, wiping almost instinctively at the soup as it dribbled down Daniel’s chin.

“Say what you want,” Seongwoo remarked. “But you seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Daniel’s eyes met his succinctly, giving Seongwoo the distinct impression of having been at war with himself for the past couple of minutes.

“Hey, Ongcheongie,” Daniel said then, startling Seongwoo with the use of his former alias as a mode of address. “I don’t think I’ve ever said this before, but… thank you.”

The unexpected show of gratitude startled Seongwoo even more. “What for?”

“For making me breakfast,” Daniel said simply. “It’s delicious.”

Seongwoo beamed at him, heart swelling with joy.

“You know,” he said, walking over to hug Daniel from behind. “I’ve been doing this almost a month now, but this is the first time I’ve ever heard you say thanks.”

“And you?” Daniel asked, turning about to face Seongwoo. “Aren’t you having breakfast?”

Seongwoo shook his head. “I’m afraid my meal of preference isn’t on the menu, today.”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed at him in suspicion. “Hey,” he said, a distinct sheen of roseate color dotting his cheeks. “You aren’t trying to get laid again, are you?”

“Like I said,” Seongwoo repeated, eyebrows wiggling playfully. “Not on the menu. It’s more of a weekly special, you know? Besides, I should probably be giving you some rest. The first time it happened, you waddled like a penguin the whole morning.”

Daniel blushed beet red, ashamed beyond belief.

“BECAUSE IT HURT, YOU IDIOT,” he explained, burying his face in both hands. “It actually really hurt.”

“Sorry about that,” Seongwoo said, sheepish.

If truth be told, he’d gotten carried away that first night, and had forgotten that Daniel had, until that point, never been in a relationship with another guy before. He bit at his lip, profuse with guilt, pushing the bowl of rice towards Daniel. “Here,” he said. “A peace offering.”

“Not enough,” Daniel said, picking at the rice with his chopsticks tentatively. “I’m paying you back for that, one of these days.”

Seongwoo laughed nervously, struggling to keep inappropriate thoughts at bay.

“Wow,” he teased. “Can’t wait.”

“Go away, Ong Seongwoo.” Daniel demanded.

“I’m sure you don’t mean that.”

“I don’t. But go away, you’re an idiot.”

“Somehow,” Seongwoo grumbled. “This ‘idiot’ catchphrase of yours is beginning to sound kind of romantic to my ears, which by the way is exceedingly depressing, so I’d appreciate it if you—“

Before he could say another word, however, Daniel grabbed him by the shirt with both hands, pulling him into a deep kiss. Daniel’s eager mouth clashed against his, the taste of strawberries from his lip gloss lingering at the tip of Seongwoo’s tongue even as he pulled hesitantly away.

“You know,” Daniel whispered. “You’re a lot ier whenever you aren’t spouting nonsense with that mouth of yours.” He brushed the messy strands of Seongwoo’s fringe away from his eyes, the tips of his fingers sending electric pulses along Seongwoo’s body until he could feel something tingling at his core.

“I think,” Seongwoo said, inching even closer, both hands resting against the counter behind Daniel. “That’s whenever my mouth’s busy doing things other than talking.”

“Yeah,” Daniel agreed, gaze lowering to Seongwoo’s lips. ‘Probably.”

At that very moment the door flew open, slamming against the wall with such force that Daniel jumped at the sound of it, pushing Seongwoo away with enough muscle strength for him to trip over himself and crash out of balance against the kitchen barstools.

“Ouch…” Seongwoo said, rubbing at his lower back. “What the heck, Daniel!”

Daniel turned to Seongwoo, mouthing an apology.

“Hey, Daniel!” Jisung called out. “Why aren’t you—“

He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of both Seongwoo and Daniel, both tousle-haired, red-faced, one of them breathless and the other stricken entirely with guilt.

“Wow,” Daniel exclaimed, still attempting to collect himself. “So now you barge into the room?”

Jisung scowled, eyes flitting from Daniel to Seongwoo, and then back to where he started. “Well, excuse me for not reading it in my fortune cookie that I was about to interrupt your little getting-to-know-you-session.”

Seongwoo snickered naughtily at him. “Getting-to-know-you is a mild way of putting it.”

Jisung’s eyes rolled so far up their sockets that for a moment Seongwoo was convinced he could see himself think.

 “Believe me,” Jisung said. “I know.”

“Were you in need of something?” Seongwoo inquired. “Or should Daniel and I pick up from where we left off? Though to be perfectly frank, I don’t mind an audience.”

“Eww,” Jisung frowned, sticking his tongue out in mock distaste. “No, thank you. I can list a thousand other activities much holier and better fit to a peaceful Sunday morning.”

“So what have you and Sungwoon-hyung been up to, lately?” Seongwoo pried, unconvinced.

“That,” Jisung said, blushing profusely. “Is none of your business.”

“Okay, this is getting stupid,” Daniel interrupted, before the conversation could head into unseemly territory. “What’s the purpose of this visit, again? I don’t think I heard you the first time around.”

Jisung turned his attention to Daniel, giving him a quick once-over. “Don’t tell me you’ve been too busy romping about with Seongwoo to remember,” he said. “You have Presidential duties left to uphold, haven’t you? The mid-semestral council meeting is in twenty minutes.”

“OH ME,” Daniel exclaimed, having completely forgotten his second-most important bi-annual appointment.

“Would love to,” Seongwoo supplied. “But maybe later. What’s this meeting for?”

“The arrangements for the winter festival,” Daniel said, hurriedly stuffing the other slice of toast into his mouth, chewing and swallowing at a speed enough for Seongwoo to wonder if he, in fact, had an abnormally proportioned esophagus. “Or at least, it should be,” Daniel continued. “Unless I arrive at the council room late, in which case the vice-principal will for sure waste thirty minutes of our time on an extended lecture regarding the unwanted side-effects of recurrent tardiness.”

“Sounds like fun,” Seongwoo said. “The festival, I mean. Not the lecture.”

“I need to head out,” Daniel said then, stuffing the remaining half of his egg and two spoonfuls of rice into his mouth all at once. “I’ll be back for lunch.”

He darted into the bedroom, and within minutes had gotten himself changed into a fresh set of clothing. Seongwoo scanned his appearance, gesturing for Daniel to come over so he could straighten out his tie.

“Hey Ongcheongie,” Daniel said. “Don’t forget to feed Peach.”

“No worries,” Seongwoo replied. “Peach feasts on the carpet whenever he gets hungry, so rest assured I’m not letting him prance about the room on an empty stomach.”

“Thank you,” Daniel said, pressing a hummingbird-light kiss onto Seongwoo’s cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

Seongwoo watched as Daniel scampered out the door, wishing he’d either been responsible enough to run for Council or selfish enough to ask for Daniel to stay.

“So,” Jisung said, piercing through the awkward silence. “What’s it like getting acquainted with Daniel’s airheaded alter-ego?”

“Surprisingly difficult,” Seongwoo admitted, sighing heavily. “But not entirely unexpected. I saw it coming when I realized a couple of weeks ago that Daniel was about as messy in his room as Peach is in his litterbox.”

“Hang in there,” Jisung said, patting Seongwoo’s shoulder reassuringly. “The worst is yet to come. There’s more to Daniel left uncharted, after all.”

The corner of Seongwoo’s mouth turned upwards into the semblance of a melancholy smile.

“Hey, Jisung-hyung,” he began, resting his back pensively against the kitchen counter. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something, if that’s alright.”

“Is that so?” Jisung said. “Well then. Fire away.”

Seongwoo fidgeted awkwardly, unsure of where to begin.

Ever since he’d lain bare the truth to his heart-breaking past a couple of nights ago, he’d found himself uncertain of things he’d never been so sure of until then.

Before, he’d been convinced that his attraction to Daniel was but a side-effect of impulse, the offshoot of heartache and the aftermath of desolation.

It’s because he staves away the loneliness, he’d think to himself. It’s because his company allows for the luxury of forgetfulness, as if I’ve never been in pain at all.

It came to a point, however, that he’d gotten confused, a point at which Daniel had begun to occupy a space in his heart he’d left unlabelled.

And to think he’d spent weeks trying to convince himself that Daniel was little more than a nuisance, an inconvenience the vice-principal had thrown at him out of spite.

And once he’d come out with the truth, he’d thought that maybe, at long last, he’d remember: whose memory it was that he cherished, whose soul it was that sang to his, whose death it was that he’d mourned for half a lifetime.

Kang Euigyeon, he’d think. It’s still him.

But along with his honesty came other things: his greed, his envy, his lust.

For someone else entirely.

Kang Euigyeon, he thought now. Is it still him?

Is it?

It was if he’d been forced into a confrontation with the darkest parts of himself, helpless as they rose to the surface and into the light.

He’d begun wanting Daniel, as if he’d been suffocating for an eternity and Daniel was the oxygen he needed to breathe.

And he’d begun doubting himself. His loyalties, his desires, his very heart.

Once, he’d lain awake at night, with Daniel sleeping soundly in his arms, wondering if the guy he’d just spent the entire night making love to was the same guy he’d loved in secret for a decade.

And that was the worst part.

Kang Euigyeon and Kang Daniel had, overtime, begun overlapping in his head into the exact same person, and even the tiniest of similarities between them riddled him with overwhelming guilt.

And at times, Seongwoo thought. Overwhelming anger. For perhaps being lied to and made to look like a fool.

“You… you’ve known Daniel since he was little, right?” Seongwoo began, breaking the piercing silence as Jisung awaited his response. “Since elementary school, or so.”

Jissung nodded, unsure of where the conversation was headed. “You’re right. He’s a family friend.”

Seongwoo nodded. “Then certainly… you’ve known of what he was like as a child. Was he… was he any different back then?”

Jisung heaved in a deep sigh, fingers tapping against the cool marble of the countertop. “Very much so. As is the case for the rest of us.”

Seongwoo pressed on, unyielding. “But was he… especially different? In terms of physique, for example… or his confidence onstage.”

 “Well, If you’d seen him then,” Jisung said. “You’d think of him as a separate entity. He and Daniel don’t seem much like two halves of a whole, to be perfectly honest.”

He stared wistfully at the ceiling fan, observing in silence as the spokes turned clockwise, on and on, as if to head for a destination they’d never reach.

“He was never particularly sure of himself,” Jisung explained. “But Daniel stopped at nothing to master his craft. And though he hid away from the rest of the world during practice, I was witness to his level of skill as a child. And I’ll tell you what, even then—and I say this with utmost certainty—Daniel’s abilities were at par with some of the most beloved, sought-after idols of the new generation.”

Seongwoo nodded, surprised by how easy it was to rest assured of such a thing.

Ten years ago, Seongwoo reminisced. Would I have believed that Euigyeon could make it this far?

Would I have seen Daniel in him, and thought: this is the person you’re meant to become?

“He could’ve been anything,” Seongwoo whispered to himself. “Because more than anyone, he dared to dream.”

“Exactly,” Jisung concurred. “Daniel’s always been like that. Shooting for the highest star, doing the impossible. You can see it in his dancing, too. His desperation, and his unhinged potential… Watching him broke my skin into goose bumps, at times.”

“The dancing,” Seongwoo pressed on. “Was he drawn to a specific type?”

 “B-boy,” Jisung replied, comfirming Seongwoo’s suspicions. “He tells me that a friend of his taught him the basic movements, and from there he learnt the rest on his own.”

It’s a coincidence, Seongwoo thought to himself. It has to be.

Fate won’t play with my feelings this way.

Otherwise, he’d be much too cruel.

 “His… his name…” Seongwoo began, before he could stop the words from leaving his mouth.

“His name?” Jisung repeated, a vague sense of agitation flickering briefly through his features. “What about it?”

At that moment, Jisung’s phone buzzed from within his pocket. He went to retrieve it with much haste, relieved by an excuse to cut the inquisition short. “Ah, it’s Sungwoon. I think I need to go ahead and find him.”

“Yeah,” Seongwoo agreed bashfully, palming the back of his head. “Sorry about that. Never mind what I was saying. It’s nothing.”

Jisung cast him a wary look.

“Seongwoo-ya,” he said, pocketing his phone. “A word of advice, if I may. It’s alright for you to go snooping around… but some things in this world are best left alone.”

Seongwoo returned Jisung’s steadfast gaze, convinced that at least in that regard, he’d been right that something was amiss.

“It’s alright,” Seongwoo said. “I understand. No more questions from now on.”

This promise notwithstanding, however, he began to think: why haven’t I thought of this before?

For anyone native to this country, 'Daniel' hardly sounds like a name you’d have at birth.

 “Lay it to rest,” Jisung said. “It’s for your own good.”

Seongwoo smiled to himself, nodding as Jisung spoke.

From where he stood, he watched as Jisung strolled towards the exit and closed the door behind him, leaving Seongwoo to bask in the company of silence.

“Since when have you become so proficient a liar, Ong Seongwoo?” he asked himself. “And since when have you cared about your ‘own good’, for that matter?”

He closed his eyes, cocooning himself within a blanket of stillness.

You never did, he thought. And to this day, you don’t.

These days, foot traffic at the Imugi was remarkably dense.

Even before he made it to the farthest corner of the outdoor plaza where the shop front was located, Seongwoo could already see the scores of people lining up by the entrance, waiting their turn for an empty table.

He glanced at his timepiece, which read 10:20 AM.

“That’s strange,” Seongwoo mused. “Business doesn’t usually hit its peak until lunch time.”

Once he entered into the vicinity, however, he came to find out exactly what the fuss was about.

From where he stood, he could see a crowd of over-excited freshmen gathered by the table nearest the door, where a group of boys were having their breakfast, waving time and again at their spectators through the clear glass windows.

He squinted at each of their faces.

“Kim Samuel, Ahn Hyungseob, Yoo Seonho, Lee Woojin, Lee Euiwoong, and Huang Justin,” he listed. “That explains it.”

He tiptoed stealthily towards the back entrance, lest he draw in a crowd himself.

Moments later, fingers tapped lightly at his shoulder.

“JESUS!” he exclaimed, startled.

“Close enough,” a familiar voice spoke up. “But not quite. It’s me, hyung.”

Seongwoo whipped his head around to come face-to-face with an impossibly lanky individual. “Hi, Kuanlin-ah. How’s the weather today?”

“What’s up with the lame question?” Kuanlin asked. “Did I scare you?”

“Not really,” Seongwoo lied. “Were you looking for something?”

“I came looking for you, actually.”

“Right,” Seongwoo said, scanning the periphery. “Though I’d suggest heading elsewhere if you wanted to have a chat. I’m not interested in getting ambushed by a troop of rabid fangirls, at the moment.”

“Not even if they scream, ‘you’re so handsome!’ repeatedly in your ear?” Kuanlin suggested, grinning at him playfully.

“Tempting,” Seongwoo smiled back. “But no. Come on, let’s have lunch in the classroom.”

Once they managed to make their escape and found themselves a safe haven within the confines of Room 112, Kuanlin held up the paper bag he’d been holding, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Is that what I think it is?” Seongwoo asked, mouth watering as the aroma of seasoned chicken assailed his nostrils.

“Yup,” Kuanlin replied. “It’s Chinese takeout.”

They settled themselves into the front desks nearest the window, ripping excitedly at the food packages.

“So, what’s been on your mind, lately?” Seongwoo inquired, receiving the pair of chopsticks Kuanlin politely handed out to him. “And how can I help?”

“Have you seen the articles that went viral this morning?” Kuanlin asked, digging into a slice of chicken.

“I checked them out this morning,” Seongwoo asked. “It’s about ‘Winkdeep’ apparently. Wish I could’ve thought up the name, though I never really considered how they’d make a couple.”

 “I wish I could’ve filmed one with Jihoon-hyung too…” Kuanlin admitted. “I want a couple name. It’s unfair that Jinyoung-hyung gets one first.”

Seongwoo chuckled at the innocence of his complaint. “You’ll get one. Soon enough.”

Kuanlin nodded, sighing dejectedly. “And we were even supposed to go out on a date…”

How is that supposed to work?” Seongwoo asked him as he ate. “You can’t possibly head out tomorrow. We’ve got an appointment at the studio for our first performance at the Idol Project.”

“I know,” Kuanlin said. “I’ve postponed it to Tuesday, but I’m afraid that would mean we’d have much less time to work with. And to be honest, I…” he trailed off sadly, and the look of utter sorrow on his face gave Seongwoo a persistent urge to pet him.

“I’ve been meaning to defer it to an even later date,” Kuanlin explained. “But I haven’t gathered the guts enough to tell Jihoon-hyung as much without chickening out beforehand. I think I’d really hate to disappoint him.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so unsure of yourself,” Seongwoo remarked. “Why keep him waiting?”

“To be honest, I…” Kuanlin began, casting a worried glance Seongwoo’s way before motioning for him to move in closer, enough for Kuanlin to whisper something private into his ears.

Gears clicked slowly into place as Seongwoo listened.

“Oh?” Seongwoo exclaimed, turning to Kuanlin after hearing his piece. “Is that so? Then you’re better off pushing through with that rain check.”

“You think so?” Kuanlin asked pensively. “You think it’ll work?”

“Why not? I’m sure in the long run, he’ll be happier for it. Besides, if you’re going to push Jihoon’s patience limit to the threshold, might as well take as much time as you need to make sure everything’s perfect once the date is set.”

Kuanlin considered Seongwoo’s suggestion for a moment, before locking eyes with Seongwoo to reward his invaluable help with a puppy-dog smile. “Thanks, hyung. I think I’ll go ahead and tell him.”

Seongwoo gave in to his stubborn desire, pulling Kuanlin into a fatherly hug. “Is it too late for me to adopt you?”

Kuanlin laughed, pushing Seongwoo gently away before he reached into his backpack to fish out his phone. “I’ll ask Jihoon-hyung if he’s alright with having the date next weekend.”

Seongwoo nodded, biting zestfully into the chicken. “Sure. Tell me how it goes.”

Minutes later, his own phone vibrated from within the confines of his jacket pockets.

He groaned, unwilling to interrupt his precious mealtime. “This is why I resent my own popularity sometimes,” he grumbled. “I’ve hardly any time left for self-indulgence.”

He swiped at the handheld device, eyes widening as the contact ID flashed onscreen.

His eyes narrowed into slits as he read each syllable carefully.

Ji. Hoon. The. Pig.

“Huh,” Seongwoo exclaimed. “Well, this is unexpected.”

He clicked dubiously at the messenger icon.

JIHOON THE PIG

Seongwoo-hyung

Wassup, kid

I have a question

Let me guess.

It’s about the date

Yeah

WAIT WHAT

WHY YOU KNOW THAT

U STALKER

You wish someone this handsome would stalk you

But no

Kuanlin’s with me right now

I’d have known even if I didn’t want to

And I didn’t really want to

T^T

Kidding

Lol

Wait just a minute

… Have you been telling him to postpone our date to next week???

Bingo!

 You’re welcome

…

HYUNG, NO

HOW COULD YOU

Because I care, Jihoon-ah

Trust me when I say that it’s better this way

And trust me when I say

That the next time we meet

 I’m stabbing your eye out with a rusty fork for interfering

Hahahah

You’re adorable Jihoon-ah, but that’s no way to respect your elders

Hasn’t Kuanlin said the rest?

I believe there was a part two this saga

What rest

Wait he’s texting me shhh

Good for you

But I don’t really need an update

He’s sitting three inches away

Literally

I could kiss him if I wanted to

…???

If you dare

I’ll stab both your eyes out with a rusty fork

You have a spare rusty fork?

Wtf Park Jihoon

Didn’t know you were into antiques

Wait a minute

Hyung

HyuUNG

Yes, buddy

OH GOD

HYUUUNG!!!

WHAT IS IT NOW

HE’S SUGGESTING AN OVERNIGHT TRIP

HE’S SUGGESTING AN OVERNIGHT TRIP

HE’S SUGGESTING AN OVERNIGHT TRIP

…Easy on the copy-paste there

I get it already

Like I said, though

You’re welcome

I WASN’T READY

WHAT DO I DO

Uhm, say yes?

Okay

He said ‘I’ll look forward to it’

With a heart emoji

OMG I’M DECEASED

Wow

Rest in peace, buddy

HYUNG WHAT SHALL I WEAR

…

Clothing, that’s for sure

Some nice underwear

(IMPORTANT: NO POLKADOTS)

And lots of deodorant, in case you get all sweaty

OKAY GOT IT

I’M SO EXCITED

SOMEONE HOLD ME

Ugh

You’re being embarrassing

 I’m screenshotting this and sending it to Kuanlin

HYUNG, NO

Done

WTF

YOU IDIOT

[Received 10:55 A.M.]

“You know, Kuanlin-ah,” Seongwoo declared. “Jihoon reminds me of Daniel sometimes.”

“How so?” Kuanlin asked, curiosity alight in his eyes.

“Both of them think my mental faculties are deficient,” he began, counting with his fingers. “They punctuate excessively on KakaoTalk, and go hungry every fifteen minutes. And oh, they default to threats of physical violence once in a while, despite not meaning it. It’s kind of endearing. ”

Kuanlin grimaced, unsure of why he’d be into that sort of thing. “Have I told you this, hyung?” he said. “You’re kind of strange. Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends.”

“But you love me, anyway?” Seongwoo supplied.

Kuanlin flashed him a gummy smile. “I’m your number one fan.”

Seongwoo laughed at the charming remark, ruffling Kuanlin’s hair affectionately.

If only I had a little brother like you, he thought. Instead of a wily, lunatic cousin out to wreak havoc wherever I go.

As if on cue, Seongwoo’s phone vibrated a second time, alerting him to new mail. This time it was from Jisung, asking for Seongwoo to give him a call as soon as possible.

Panic rose to Seongwoo’s throat. It’s not an emergency, is it?

 “What’s up, h