“Just write whatever is in your head and you’ll get it out.”  One of Minseok’s teachers had told him that once.  She was old and smelled funny and made them read weird poetry in class.  But one night, when he was feeling particularly alone, he remembered her advice and gave it a try.  What could it have hurt?  He found that she wasn’t entirely right, though.  It didn’t eradicate the things or feelings from his mind or his heart.  Rather, it was like moving furniture to another room: it was gone from your sight but it still left imprints in the carpet.  But they were easy to walk over and ignore – easy to push to the back of his mind and move on with things.

Minseok wasn’t exactly a sad or mopey type of person.  He always had a smile on his face, and was quick to befriend his fellow classmates.  But that wasn’t all there was to him, of course.  Even he was allowed to be sad and lonely, sometimes.  So he wrote.  He wrote thoughts and words and poem and songs.  He wrote about getting rejected by his crush.  About winning a singing competition and getting good grades.  About his parents fighting all the time.  Even when he was accepted as a trainee into SM Entertainment, he wrote.

And that was the only time it had ever been a problem.  The only time his sacred book had been violated.  Baekhyun and Chanyeol had raided his locker in what he assumed was meant to be a friendly prank.  But of course when they got their hands on his diary, they knew they had struck gold.  Minseok actually didn’t know anything about it until Luhan had sheepishly returned it to him and explained what had happened.  And Minseok kind of wanted to throw up right then and there because he just knew that they had read those parts about Minseok having a crush on Luhan when they had first met.  But he couldn’t help it.  Years later, Luhan would drunkenly admit to having read that particular passage.  “But it happens to everyone.”  He had reassured him.  “Everyone.”

That was in the past, anyway.  A fleeting infatuation that everyone had swept under the rug.  Now he was in China, far, far away from home.  He knew he should be happy.  He had achieved his dream of being a singer, and he couldn’t really complain about being homesick considering Luhan, Lay, Kris and Tao had spent far longer aching for home than he.  At least he had his brothers.

But he didn’t stop writing, because his problems didn’t go away.  He knew that most people would hardly consider them problems in the grand scheme of things, but it still bothered him. 

For one, he felt useless.  Sure, he danced well.  But he knew his voice wasn’t even close to being on par with that of Luhan’s, Chen’s, or Lay’s.  He couldn’t rap, either.  Or speak Chinese.  All he could do was smile cutely and try not to burst into tears when he got overwhelmed and confused on their interviews.

His second problem was the fans.  Or rather, lack of fans.  EXO was in a precarious position – they had topped the charts and had a lot of devoted fans.  And when Minseok said ‘they’ he meant everyone but him.  More often, he was getting recognized on the street when he was with at least one of the other members, but they always flocked towards the others.  He tried to remind himself that it could be worse – he could have sasaeng fans, or he could be constantly swarmed, never able to go and do normal things in public.  But it still dug at him.  He felt like the new kid who showed up during the last semester of school who everyone just ignored or made fun of.

He was also getting sick of never being alone.  He was used to cramped quarters when he was a trainee, but this was something entirely different.  Even when he wasn’t at the dorm or doing a schedule, he was surrounded by people constantly – the managers or fans or whoever.  He missed being able to find a quiet corner of the SM building to collect his thoughts. 

So Sunday morning, he made up his mind that he would find a quiet corner somewhere in Beijing, even if it killed him.  There had to be somewhere, he thought.  And Sunday’s were the one day that they usually had free from schedules, miraculously.  He donned himself in his usual casual jeans and sweater, making sure to slip on a pair of sunglasses and cap before heading out.  He wasn’t sure where to start or where to go, so he hopped on the subway and got off at a random stop that he figured was sufficiently far from his comfort zone.  Then he walked.  Just walked.  He walked through busy intersections, past overflowing cafes and street sellers hawking their wares.  He walked until he came to a street much quieter than the rest.  After wandering around, taking a right here and a left there, he stumbled upon a small coffee stop with a bright, inviting yellow sign.

The door chimed when he entered and, looking around, he noticed only a few other customers in the place.  It had a unique feel – clean and bright with a personalized, homey touch.  He walked up the counter and waited behind one other person in line.  He fidgeted while waiting, quickly realizing that of course all the menus and signs would be mostly in Chinese.  But he calmed when it came his turn to order – every coffee shop basically sold the same sorts of coffee, right?

“One… Americano?  Please?”  It was a question rather than a statement as he spoke his Chinese quietly and carefully, afraid of making an embarrassing mistake.

The barista behind the counter gave him a warm smile and a welcoming look.  But she didn’t do anything else.  Great, he thought, I somehow managed to screw even that up.  He smiled apologetically and tried again.  “Americano?”  He raised one finger to indicate the quantity and hoped that would work.

She nodded this time, smiling a bit wider as if she were trying to suppress a laugh and busied herself with making his drink.  The rest of the transaction went as it normally should, and when she came to take his money he glanced at her nametag.  Meili.  At least that was in a script that he could understand.

He thanked her for the coffee and chose a seat near the window.  From there, he could soak up the warmth of the sunlight streaming through and watch the pedestrians pass back and forth.  The crowds were much smaller here, and he felt much more at ease. 

Minseok pulled out his journal and flipped to a clean page, ready to fill it up with all his thoughts that had been pent up for the past two weeks.  He scribbled everything down in relatively neat handwriting until the sun dipped closer to the horizon and the other customers inhabiting his safe space trickled out.  He was still completely engrossed in writing when his barista, Meili, carefully flipped the sign on the front door to indicate that they were closed.

“We’re closing now, sir.  But you can stay a bit longer while I clean up, if you like.”  Her voice was gentle and even, and it snapped Minseok back to reality.  Looking around, he noticed that the streetlights were beginning to flicker to life.

“Ah, I’m so sorry.  I just lost track of time.”  He smiled nervously and began to pack up his things when something stopped him.  He studied the girl curiously as she began to efficiently wipe down the other tables.  No – he wasn’t imagining things.  He had understood every word she had said.  And he had responded just as easily.  In Korean.

“You…speak Korean?”

“Hmm.”  The girl nodded and hummed her confirmation with a smile.

“How did you know I did?”  Minseok was relieved that he had found someone with whom he could talk freely and comfortably with, even if it was just to order a cup of coffee.  Someone outside of his fellow members.  But he dreaded her answer a bit.  What if she confessed that she knew who he was because she was a fan of EXO?  Yet another fan who didn’t care much for Minseok.

“My mother is Korean.”  She explained.  “She has a similar accent when she speaks Chinese.  And you don’t look Japanese so… I just guessed.  I’m glad I was right.”

Minseok was pleased with her answer.  “Ah, I see.  Well… my name is Kim Minseok.  I’m glad to meet another Korean.”  Or half Korean, as it may be. 

“Meili.”  She replied simply, finishing up her task at hand.

He considered her name for a moment as he continued to pack his bag and down the last of his cold coffee.  If he remembered correctly, it meant beautiful or pretty.  It was an appropriate name for the girl, who was neither flashy nor stunning per say, but she had a kind of classic, simple beauty that complimented her seemingly serene personality.

“Well, I’d better get going then.  It was nice to meet you, Meili.”  He paused at the door and looked back at her before making up his mind to say,  “I’ll see you next week.”  Yes, he thought.  He would definitely be back.

It turned out that Minseok wasn’t as lost as he thought he would be.  He managed to find a closer subway stop than the one he had gotten off at while only checking the GPS on his phone twice.  He made sure to memorize the name of the stop and it’s characters.  It was dark out by the time he found his way back to the dorm, and before he could even slip off his shoes, Chen was at his side.

“There you are!  We thought you had gotten lost or something.  Where were you?”

Minseok toed off his shoes and set his bag down, wandering into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.  A small smile played at his lips.  “You know, just wandering around.  Exploring.  Got a cup of coffee.”

His leader, Kris, walked past him and smacked his arm playfully.  “Must have been one hell of a cup of coffee.”