JongIn finds himself making his way to his favorite chicken place in all of Seoul. It hides nestled away somewhere in the Han River park, but nevertheless, it attracts attention by its good food and great service. The store is popular among tourists and locals alike.

Surrounded by the cherry blossoms, preparing to bloom, the little restaurant looks like a weathered-shack, looking like it doesn't belong in the beautiful surroundings. The letters on the sign are peeling, and the glass doesn't shine as brightly as it did when it was first founded. Some trash is littered on the ground, remains of lunches of high school students that skipped school for the day.

When he walks in, JongIn slumps into a corner booth, in the back of the restaurant. It's right next to the heater, which warms him up from head to toe.

The other customers don't take much notice of him. There are only five waiters today, JongIn notes, instead of the usual eight. They scurry around cleaning tables and serving customers. There don't seem to be too many people today, but probably because it's Tuesday.

JongIn buries his head in his arms and rests his head on the table. There's the bitter taste of tears on his lips.
“Well, well, well,” a voice somewhere above him chuckles. “Look who we have here. The usual order, JongIn?”

The voice has an accent. Chinese, by the sound of it. A sense of surprise and relief fills him up and makes him grin weakly as he looks up.

“Kris.”

“Congratulations, you can say my name.” Kris' voice drips in amused sarcasm.
JongIn stands. “Y-you, remember me?”

Kris crosses his huge arms over his chest. His name tag is pinned to the red apron he wears over his button-down shirt.

Kris scoffs. “Of course I do. You came in yesterday. Like you do every week?”
JongIn doesn't say anything, and Kris frowns, realizing that JongIn isn't joking.
“Why? What's wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing,” JongIn mutters. He looks up at Kris who's still frowning in hesitation.

“Hey, I was kidding.” JongIn laughs, but it kind of sounds forced.

He doesn't say how he's so glad. Perhaps overjoyed is the better term, because he learns that he won't be alone over these next six months. Overjoyed someone remembers. Overjoyed that some things didn't change.

He claps a hand on Kris' gigantic shoulder. “Isn't there anything to eat around here? Where's Yixing, I'm starving.”

Kris nods behind the counter. “Back in the kitchen as always.”

Yixing appears, carrying a basket of chicken on wax paper, cooked in a sweet and sticky sauce the way JongIn likes. He sets down the basket in front of him and wipes his hands in the red apron he's wearing.

“Here you go,” he smiles. “Like always.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

“You know, the weather's really nice outside,” Yixing says, leaning on the edge of the table. “Kris and I were thinking about having outdoor seating, but I forgot to order the new tables. When summer comes around, it'll be hot as hell around here and—JongIn, what's wrong with your hand?!”

JongIn tries to pull his hand away, but Yixing grabs it stares in shock. He tells Kris to hurry and get the first-aid kit, and soon, the three of them are sitting outside on a weathered picnic table by the restaurant's back door.
“No, really, it's fine,” JongIn mutters. “I don't need the hospital, ow--!”

“Hold still,” Yixing hisses. “There's glass in here. The more you move, the more it's going to hurt.”

Yixing takes his time in removing the glass shards while Kris just watches silently. He doesn't really like seeing the blood, but Yixing doesn't seem to mind. JongIn recalls how Yixing once said he wanted to be a doctor.

They talk for a while, and JongIn suspects Yixing is just trying to take his mind of the pain, but it works. Kris warily sits next to them and joins the conversation, his eyes glancing at JongIn's wound, then looking away quickly.

JongIn learns that everything was the same. Everything was exactly the way it had been. Neither Kris nor Yixing forgot about him, and apparently his life was still the same.
Nothing had changed.

Except for the fact that Do Kyungsoo was completely erased from his life.

The mention of Kyungsoo's name to his friends brought about laughs and grins. For a moment, JongIn's heart rose in his chest, a feeling of brief excitement over the fact that his friends might know Kyungsoo and that it was only Kyungsoo's memory that was affected.

However, it only lingered for a moment.

Apparently Do Kyungsoo was only a celebrity to them, another pretty face out in the music industry that came with screaming, obsessed girls and a conceited attitude. They no longer remembered the time the they spent together. They no longer remembered their bonds of brotherhood that had lasted all throughout high school.

It was like Do Kyungsoo had never been in their lives at all.

---

(flashback)

“You're a monster,” JongIn muttered.

LuHan scoffed, and JongIn realized how different he is from his outward angelic appearance.
They say nothing for a few moments. A gust of wind blows through the rooftops, but neither one shudders. The stand together, staring out into the city, their eyes focused on the horizon.

Time passes.

It's not until LuHan speaks that JongIn is pulled back into focus.

“So what did you think of that Chanyeol guy?” LuHan asked. He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. The smoke disintegrates when the wind blows.
JongIn scoffed. “What do you want me to say?”

He kicks some rocks with the bottom of his shoe.

LuHan shrugged a shoulder and put the cigarette to his lips. He didn't turn to JongIn when he spoke. “I don't know. I think he's pretty cool he--”
“I don't want to talk about him,” JongIn interrupts. He recalls this Park Chanyeol guy's grinning face. With rows of straight white teeth and a grin so wide it looked like it could never be wiped off. . He glanced at LuHan. “And singers. You made them singers. Probably like one of those bubbly boy bands.”

JongIn scoffs for a second time.

One side of LuHan's mouth quirks. “What? I thought it was a pretty good idea. You've never heard Kyungsoo sing? He's pretty good you know...”

There's another gap of silence between them, as both sort of mutually decide any speech Is ill-suited for the moment.

“About that serum I gave you,” LuHan finally says after a long time.

Jongin looks up to show that he's listening.

“Don't drink it this week,” LuHan draws a long breath from his cigarette. “Start next week. The last day of the month.”

“What?”
“I said, start next week,” LuHan repeats. “I can...sense...that it won't be necessary for a few days.”
Confusion crosses JongIn's face.
LuHan smirks. “You can thank me later. Just...don't lose it. It's important.”

JongIn begins to frown and argue he doesn't know where the serum is, but LuHan speaks before a word escapes his mouth.

“It's in your pocket,” he says. “The right one. ”

JongIn extracts the little vial from his pocket and holds it up to the light.

“What if I run out?” he asks.
LuHan turns slowly, and when he does, his eyes look expressionless and hollow.

“You won't.”

“But it--” JongIn looks up, but no one is there.

(end of flashback)

---

Yixing and Kris continue talking, but it sounds more like a couple bickering, in JongIn's opinion. They talk about everything from whether the table they sit as is more amber than auburn, to whether unicorns really exist. But their voices are drowned out by the sound of JongIn's heartbeat.

Their voices are loud at clear at first, then they drown out, slowly. Gradually. Until there's nothing but the vibration of their voices around him.

He realizes he has some time. Six months exactly. Perhaps enough time to put memories back into place. Enough time to make new ones.

Enough time to make Do Kyungsoo fall for him again.