A/N:  I'm actually nervous beyond words right now because of this chapter. A new character is introduced. I hope you like him. *pray*

“Don't be over self-confident with your first impressions of people”

-Chinese Proverb-

11 | The New Guy

*Giggle*

“Here you go,” I grinned, handing out the sweet corns to the waiting customer—a young mother with her son— and started to giggle again.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the sweet corns from my hand and handed me the money for it, “You seem happy,” she lamented.

*Giggle* *Giggle*

“Oh, do I?” I said, smiling sweetly at her, “How do you know?”

She gave me a knowing smile. “I bet your boyfriend has done something romantic,” she said, “You look like a girl in love.”

“Oh, boyfriend?” I exclaimed excitedly, “Boyfriend?” I whispered to myself.

Then I started to giggle like a school child again. The lady left with her son, wishing me everlasting happiness with my ‘boyfriend’.

Boyfriend?

Choi SeungHyun as my boyfriend?

*Squeal*

I sat down behind the counter of my corn stall and rested my chin in my hand as I gazed up the empty skyline dreamily; I kept on thinking about the kiss with SeungHyun yesterday.

The way his lips curved up to form a smile after he kissed me.

*Giggle*

The way he looked at me after the kiss.

*Giggle*

The way he winked after he said that he will call me tonight.

*Giggle*

The way he—

“If you start giggling for one more time, I will have to call the mental asylum people to lock you up,” an unfamiliar voice stated, breaking my trance. It was a boy’s voice, one which belonged to someone whom I didn’t recognize.

I bit my lip in frustration and turned to glare at the owner of the voice, all ready to jump on him and scratch his face with my fingernails—just like a cat— because he had just ruined my dreamy moment. However, I wasn’t expecting to see what I was seeing.

There, standing in front of me, was the prettiest boy that I had ever laid my eyes on and his easy smile told me that he had already known of that fact. I blinked rapidly, trying to figure out whether I knew him and I was sure that I had never seen him before. He must be a new customer.

The boy looked my age and was dressed casually in a pair of dark denim, white t-shirt and black Converse sneakers. He was tall, around 6 feet, with huge round eyes and tall nose. His pearly white teeth looked like they belong to one of the Colgate ad models that we see on TV. He had bowl-cut light brown hair and side swept bangs; the Justin Bieber hairstyle. There was a black guitar case hung at his back so I figured that he must be a street musician of some sort.

All in all, he was definitely a pretty boy but my SeungHyun is still more handsome.

*Dreamy sigh*

I brushed the dreamy thought about SeungHyun aside, figuring that I needed to focus on my business for the time being. No customers would like a lovestruck teenager, especially a hunky pretty boy musician like the one standing in front of me.

“You want to buy some corns?” I asked as I stood up from my stool.

The pretty boy came closer towards me and rested his palms on the counter. “Why are you so happy?” he asked, an inquisitive look in his eyes.

I frowned. It was the first time that I had encountered such a thing; a nosy pretty boy. I didn’t even know how to fend him off.

“None of your business,” I said, “So you want to buy corns or not? They’re really sweet and nice,” I added, trying to lure him to buy some.

Pretty boy looked thoughtful for a while, his forehead in a slight frown. “I might consider buying some if you give out some free samples,” he said.

Free samples?

Like seriously, who in the world ask for free samples of sweet corns? You see people asking for free samples of perfume, or make up, or really expensive block of cheese, but never in my entire life had someone asked me for a free sample of my corns.

I blinked and eyed him from head to toe. Then, it occurred to me. He was a street musician. He must be dirt poor. This must be his way to ask for food, poor thing.

“You don’t have any money, do you?” I said, feeling sympathetic for the pretty boy, “You’re poor.”

Some people, though blessed with superior genes of good looks, they were still struggling to make ends meet. Everyone knows the struggles that street musicians are forced to endure. It was hard making money nowadays. I felt the pity rushing over me. I should have been more thoughtful and considerate. It must be really difficult for him to ask for free samples.

Pretty boy blinked rapidly at me. “I’m not p—”

“It’s okay,” I cut him off in mid-sentence. He must be so embarrassed to tell me outright about his life’s struggles, about how he has to sing for hours just to have enough money to buy food. I had seen it all on TV, the daily struggles of street musicians like him. I need to make him feel that this world is not as cruel as he thought it was. “Here, take all you want. It’s free. I won’t charge you even a dime for them,” I said, handing him the sweet corns in the cup.

Pretty boy looked confused—or maybe he was grateful—for my act of kindness. He looked at me funny, an amused smile on his lips. I don’t know what was so amusing. Maybe that was just him being thankful for the free food given. He turned around to sit on the stool at one of the empty tables and munched on the corns quietly.

I stared at him. He didn’t look like someone who had been starving for days. In fact, he looked too healthy and handsome to be mistaken as a struggling musician. However, my late mother had always taught me that we can never judge people by his—or her—looks. I mean, look at Moo Kyul, Jang Geun Seuk’s character from Mary Stayed Out All Night. He was a struggling musician too but he still looked pretty and had donned cool clothes all throughout the drama. This pretty boy must be of the same kind.

“So, do you go to school around here?” pretty boy asked all of a sudden.

“Yep, ShinJi High,” I replied, “You?”

Pretty boy’s lips curved up to form a smile again. “ShinJi High, huh?” he said, ignoring my inquiries, “Is that school any good?”

“Of course, d’uh!” I said defiantly, “Why should I go to a school which is bad?”

Pretty boy chuckled to himself as he ate another spoonful of sweet corns. “Just asking,” he said, giving me a wry smile, “I’m new here,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Just as I thought, he was a homeless, struggling musician who makes a living by performing on the streets and lived like a nomad, moving from one place to another, to find the one place where he can earn the highest.

Like I said, I had seen it all on a documentary.

Deep down, I really pitied him so I prepared another cup of sweet corns and went to give it to him. “Eat all you want,” I said sympathetically. I sat down at the stool opposite of him, just watching him eating the corns, “What are you doing wandering alone tonight?” I asked, feeling the strong urge to add “Is it because you don’t have a home?” but decided against it; I didn’t want to hurt pretty boy’s feelings.

“Just checking out this place. I just got here last week,” he smiled, “I’m actually looking for some inspiration.”

“Inspiration?” I asked, “You mean, you write songs?” I nodded towards his guitar case that he had put down on a chair.

He nodded, a fond smile on his face. He must really love his guitar.

I couldn’t hold it any longer. I guess, I was just really itching to ask. “Is it hard,” I asked, “being a poor, struggling musician?”

Pretty boy choked on his corns. Then, he began to laugh out loud like it was the funniest thing on Earth. “Why?” he asked, “You think that I’m a poor struggling musician?”

Denial.

That’s what it was. Nobody likes to be called poor, just like how nobody will admit that they’re insane. I gave him a pitiful smile. “Don’t worry,” I leaned in forward to whisper, “You don’t have to put up an act with me. I understand it completely. I’ve watched a documentary about guys like you.”

“Guys like me?” he asked, a tinge of mockery in his voice.

“Yeah, there are others like you,” I nodded, “I think it’s admirable, the way that you guys don’t really care about materialistic things. You only live for your passion, your music and following your dreams. Not everyone can do that. You even have to move to places just to find somewhere where you can make the most money. That’s really brave,” I said encouragingly.

Pretty boy laughed heartily once again.

I frowned at him. There I was, telling him how very understanding of his difficulties that I was being and he was just laughing his a.ss off like I was telling some jokes. Are all musicians weird like him?

Suddenly, my cellphone vibrated. I saw that it was SeungHyun and my heart fluttered.

*Giggle*

“Sorry, I have to take this phone call,” I said, going a few distance away from pretty boy. “Hi,” I chirped to the phone once I had made sure that I was out of hearing distance.

“Hi, what are you doing?” SeungHyun’s deep voice reached my eardrums like a lullaby. Hearing his voice had made me melt like ice-cream on a hot day. Funny when I think about it about how I once hated him for bullying me. Who would have thought that I would be giddy like this because of him?

“I’m selling corns,” I said, a stupid wide grin on my face, “What are you doing?”

“We’re all at HeeChul’s. He’s forcing us to watch some stupid romantic comedy about some guy who meets some girl and fall in love and live happily ever after,” SeungHyun said. I could already picture him grimacing.

I giggled. “You’ve just described every romantic comedy available on the planet,” I pointed out.

“EXACTLY!” SeungHyun groaned, “If I know that he was going to torture us like this, I would have pretended to be sick. Maybe then I can help you at your stall.”

Aww.. Did you hear that?

That’s the sound of our wedding bells ringing.

“You don’t have to,” I said, “There’s not too many customers tonight. Just one pretty boy, a struggling musician who don’t even have enough money to buy food for himself.” I started telling SeungHyun about the pretty boy and he just