Do Kyungsoo wakes up the next morning to the sound of the door bell. It blares in the morning silence and jolts him out of his slumber. It seems he had just closed his eyes few minutes ago, but now sun was streaming steadily through the windows.

He sits up in bed and groans, muttering something about desperate fan girls and how he only had four hours of sleep.
The smooth wooden floor is slippery under his socked feet, but he makes his way to the front door. Chanyeol's soft snoring could be heard in the other room, rumbling so loud, Kyungsoo wonders how he stayed asleep.

When he opens the door, he's surprised to find no one there. The cold remainder of winter suddenly makes the air chilly. Kyungsoo stuffs his hands in his sweatshirt pocket as he peers down both hallways, but everything is quiet in the early morning hours. He runs his fingers through his hair, realizing that he had probably dreamed the sound up. He closes the door, but when he does, he notices a note scrawled on a blue piece of paper, torn from an ad found in the mail, slipped under the door. He has to squint to make out the curly words he recognizes as his manager's, Minseok.

Kyungsoo---meeting with recording producer today; 7am, Green Tea Cafe in Gangnam, get going and don't be late!!

-MS

---

The Green Tea Cafe is a quaint little place located on the outskirts of Gangnam, with it's fine, imported windows and sleek, shining wooden floors. The cafe radiates modernity and luxury, used by those with too much money and too much time. Private and quiet, the place has seen its share of celebrities and figures of importance. It stands with two floors, both warmed up to the perfect toasty temperature. The scent of exotic, freshly-brewed coffee wafts through the entire building. The warm, dark aroma swirls out the door and often make passerbys stop and turn. A mix of tainted vans owned by celebrities and posh, expensive cars of the rich line the surrounding streets.

Kyungsoo walks in, wearing a striped button-down shirt. His hair is neatly styled, perhaps a little wet from washing up so hastily. It wouldn't have been the first time Minseok has slipped notes under the doors with last-minute reminders and Kyungsoo has had to frantically hurry and get going.

Upon his arrival, the waitresses and waiters bow politely, like they do with every guest that comes in. He bows back politely like the well-mannered person he is.

He checks the time. 7:04am.

Neither Minseok nor the producer appear to have arrived yet, so Kyungsoo blames the heavy Seoul traffic. At this time of the morning, the streets are filled with commuters on their way to work.

Kyungsoo orders a glass of iced green tea with one and a half teaspoons of sugar, exactly one and a half, then takes a seat in the back of the cafe next to a large, bright abstract painting. It's all swirls and smears and jagged lines, the paint dancing along the canvas in a kind of serene beauty. He thinks that maybe it resembles a leaf or a winding staircase, when a waitress sets down a puts down a lidded ceramic coffee cup in front of him. She bows again, then leaves quietly. The cafe is known for having lavish products, from their clean, cloth napkins down to their beautiful, ceramic cups.

Kyungsoo takes a sip from the cup, his eyes still absorbed in the complexity of the painting, when he realizes the drink doesn't taste quite right. His tongue that expects the sweet taste of tea is shocked when it tastes the bitter taste of black coffee. He almost chokes, but he finds the control to swallow it. His eyebrows scrunch up in disgust as he wipes his lips with a cloth napkin. The bitter taste stings his mouth in a way he can't seem to get rid of.

Kyungsoo begins to stand up, to complain to the barista he received the wrong order, when a figure slides into the seat across from him.

Kyungsoo blinks in surprise.

Kim JongIn smirks at him from across the table, his eyes twinkling in a playful mischief.

“You,” Kyungsoo frowns. “What are you doing here?”

“Hanging around.” JongIn shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest as he sits back in his own chair. “You?”

Kyungsoo shifts, looking at him warily. He clears his throat, the taste of coffee still lingering in his mouth. “A meeting. With my producer.”

JongIn says nothing for a while. And neither does Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo's nature says it seems rude to get up and leave, and being in the mere presence of JongIn makes the entire situation seem awkward. And Kyungsoo hates awkward.

Finally, he blinks. “Are you following me?”

Instead of answering, JongIn nods at the drink in front of Kyungsoo. “That any good?”

Kyungsoo scoffs. “You are, aren't you?”

JongIn doesn't reply.

“What are you doing here?” Kyungsoo asks for the second time.

JongIn looks at him. “Honestly? Trying to start a conversation.”

JongIn leans across the polished marble table, not taking his eyes off Kyungsoo's huge ones.

Kyungsoo sort of leans back and obliviously swallows.

JongIn smirks. “Hm. Espresso. Isn't it kind of bitter?”
Kyungsoo realizes JongIn had just taken a whiff of his coffee. JongIn ignores the way Kyungsoo expression reads as being taken aback and sits back in his chair.

“I hear this place gets their beans all the way from Costa Rica.”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth to interrupt but JongIn continues anyway.

“Strange.” JongIn slouches in his chair. “You don't look like an espresso drinker.”

“I'm not,” Kyungsoo says. “I don't drink coffee.”
JongIn tilts his head for one side in some sort of gesture for an explanation.

“They gave me the wrong order,” Kyungsoo mutters.

JongIn glances over at the waitresses and waiters by the counter.

“Just because they look good doesn't mean they are good, huh?” JongIn says.

Kyungsoo doesn't notice the way JongIn's voice sort of changes, as if he isn't referring to mistaken orders but maybe something more.

“You would think that a place with money like this should hire people that can actually get a simple order right,” JongIn continues bluntly.

“They're just doing their jobs.” Kyungsoo replies, frowning. “It's an honest mistake.”

JongIn doesn't say anything to that.

In the silence, there's the sound of coffee machines gurgling and bubbling. The sound of chatter from customers scattered around the room. The clink of coffee cups and the fizz of fluffy whipped cream.

“You...aren't going to drink that?” Kyungsoo asks, indicating the untouched cup that sits in front of JongIn. Kyungsoo's mentally kicking himself because he knows he shouldn't instigate the conversation further. But then again, the awkwardness of the silence is almost too much for him to bear.

JongIn sighs, turning the cup slowly with his right hand.

His eyes make contact with Kyungsoo again, and Kyungsoo is surprised to find himself flushing.

“Wrong order. I don't drink green tea.”

Kyungsoo pauses and bites his bottom lip, realizing he's sort of divided whether to say something or not. The espresso he had drank earlier still burns through his taste buds and dries out his moth.

JongIn seems to read between the lines.

“Here, take it,” he slides his own cup across the table. “They must have mixed up our orders or something.”

Kyungsoo stutters in protest. “Huh? No, no, it's fine, I--”

“I'd better get going,” JongIn ignores him and gets to his feet. He takes up his black bomber jacket and shrugs it on. He looks down at Kyungsoo, who still hasn't touched the drink.

“I didn't drink it or anything,” JongIn laughs, reading Kyungsoo's hesitation.

Kyungsoo picks up the drink under JongIn's watchful gaze and takes a cautious sip. It tastes fresh and sweet and cold. The flavor of green tea sweeps over his tongue and placates the burning sensation in his mouth. Green tea with one and a half teaspoons. The way he likes it.

Kyungsoo looks up, perhaps wanting to say a quick word of gratitude, but JongIn is gone, leaving behind the glass door swinging slowly on its hinges.

---

JongIn leans against the brick wall around the corner of the Cafe. The cold is getting to him, as he's been standing outside for nearly half an hour. He waits.

Finally, he sees a familiar figure exit the glass doors. Kyungsoo bows politely at the staff upon when he leaves, and JongIn almost scoffs at Kyungsoo's undoubtedly cordial nature.

When Kyungsoo leaves, there are a lot of things Kim JongIn doesn't say.

Doesn't say how he switched their orders.

Doesn't say how he forged the note.

Doesn't say how badly he wants them to meet again.

Doesn't say how he staged the first time they met.

Doesn't say how much it hurts, no, destroys him, because Kyungsoo had said the nearly exact same things this time as the first.

Instead, he pounds the wall with his fist and screams into the silence of the brisk, cold morning.

---

That afternoon, Kyungsoo asks Minseok about why he was left to wait an hour for a producer that never showed, but all he received was a confused expression and words that a note was never written.