INFATUATION; Numb

        This was marked the first month that Himchan and Youngjae had met up. Every Saturday—never missing a day—they would meet up and talk about their week. Youngjae arrived first, however, and felt good that day since he knew that Himchan was going to be there so he went to buy himself the usual, strawberry smoothie but since his mood was lifted, he bought himself a blueberry muffin while he was at it. And in additional, Youngjae bought a medium sized Americano—totally out of what Himchan would get since he often got a small.

        Placing the drinks onto the clean marbled table, Youngjae took out his iPad and did the same thing he would do almost any Saturday; check the news while enjoying his breakfast.

        But… today was different.

        It had been three—no, four hours since Youngjae had gotten to the coffee shop and there was no sign of Himchan. Already, Youngjae’s jaw was clenched as he stared at the ice in Himchan’s drink that was melting and he was sure that the drink tasted disgusting by now. But—he was sure that it wasn’t as disgusting as what he thought of Himchan.

        He felt so rejected, alone and just despised Himchan now.

        Youngjae knew that there wasn’t anything going on between them though. He was only a friend, wasn’t he? By why wasn’t seeing Himchan hurting him inside? He never had any weaknesses because he was good at everything—academics, sports, music, cooking—but Himchan was his weakness. Then again, what Youngjae kept pondering about was why? What about Himchan made him his weakness? He shrugged off the idea, slamming the liner of the muffin onto the table, breaking his straw in half and throwing it away. Youngjae quickly finishes up his smoothie, sighing heavily as he drops it into the trash bin, looking at the Americano, deciding to leave it there—just like he plans on doing to Himchan. To Youngjae, adding another person in his life that just kept his hopes up high then ruins them just meant that they didn’t deserve him. And just as he plans, Youngjae leaves.

        He was done. No more Himchan—no more of his flawless face, his bright and lively laugh, the way he bites down his bottom lip when he’s thinking too hard, the way he taps his fingers against the marbled table when a song plays and catches his attention—no more of that. Youngjae was done—but his heart wasn’t.

        Because he’ll only found himself there again an hour later, unconsciously forgetting about what Himchan had done. Youngjae forgave the older male so easily and he loathed himself for that—all he wanted was a punch in the face by now.

        Walking into the coffee shop, he takes in a deep breath, rubbing his sore neck from working so hard on the papers and questions the students had finished and asked. He stuffs his hands deep into the front pockets of his skinny jeans, hair ruffled messily from running his hands through them in thought. His shirt was loose around his frame, but the hem of his shirt was tucked in the front. When he turns his gaze over to the table he sat at earlier, something grabbed his attention.

        Himchan, sitting at the table with a medium sized Americano and the melted ice, had a bright grin on his face, chuckling softly at Youngjae’s reaction. His grin clenched onto his heart and caused it to race. “Himchan?” He furrows his brows slightly, approaching the other male. Himchan lifts up the drink in his hand as a greeting gesture, letting out a quiet laugh.

        Himchan looked different. He had his hair slightly styled, a shirt that fit around his frame—and don’t forget his arms—plus the cover-up and eyeliner on his face was noticeable. Youngjae preferred the old Himchan but this wasn’t so bad either. “I had a last minute photoshoot today,” He admits, his voice sounding apologetic. “I was going to call you or tell you something about it, but… I don’t have your number so that’s a problem.” Himchan looks up at Youngjae, his voice hinting how sincere his words were.

        A soft sigh escapes Youngjae’s lips as he slowly sits down in front of the male that he considered a friend, but his heart yearned for more everyday. On the days where he didn’t see Himchan, it craved for the older male. He wanted to hear his voice, be able to hear his laugh, see his smile, and the cute little habits he has. Once Youngjae laid his eyes on Himchan at the coffee shop that day, he couldn’t help but to feel relieved and excitement rushed through his body. He kept his gaze on Himchan as the older male sat and waited for a response from the other, anxious for the words that would leave his lips.

        It wasn’t a lie that Himchan felt sorry. He kept Youngjae waiting, and for some reason, it wasn’t the same when he did this to other friends or when other friends did it to him. Maybe it’s because Youngjae means something else to me.

        Youngjae leans over, snatching the phone from Himchan’s hands. Casually, he’s able to enter through the phone and begins to dial something before handing it back. “There.” He says calmly, his face showing no particular emotion. “Now that you have it, you can’t give me any more excuses.”

        Tuesday came by and Himchan felt so stressed and tired. Without the cover-up, the black circles underneath his eyes were noticeable and it only meant he had to wear more makeup. Lazily, he forces himself off the couch of the photoshoot studio, attempting to make over to his phone before plopping himself back in the seat. He was bored; waiting for the other models for the photoshoot pissed him off. They were always late and he was the one who was on time—if not on time, then earlier.  Himchan just wanted to go home and sleep all day, all week and then on Saturday, go to the coffee shop.

        Just then, a thought rang in his head. What time is it? He checks his phone, noticing it was 10:47AM, which meant Youngjae had class. But he missed the younger male and wanted to meet up with him. But then again… how? He has classes and I have the photoshoot all day.

        A mischievous grin appears on Himchan’s face as he begins to text something to Youngjae, proud after he presses the “send” button. He could hear the clatter against the floor from the intern’s heels, the sound gradually becoming louder until she came into the room. He noticed the cup of coffee in her hand—Americano to be exact—and it was for him.

        “Hey, could you do me a favor?”

        “This note is F#, as in F sharp. It’s written like this on—“ Youngjae grabs a piece of chalk from the bottom of the board, beginning to draw a music staff. He feels his phone vibrating violently in his pocket, placing the chalk back before stuffing his hand into his pocket. “Actually, hold on for a second.” Pulling out the device, he furrows his brows at the sight of a picture of an envelope and in bold letters, it virtually screams, “YOU GOT A MESSAGE!”

        Pressing open, he notices an unfamiliar number, deciding to leave it alone until he notices Himchan’s name at the bottom. And so, it reads:

        “After school, come by at the studio. I have something for you.” Then at the end of the text, an address and Himchan’s name were written.

        Maybe today was going to be a long day.