Suho isn’t the most interesting person.

In fact, he’s kind of forgettable. It’s not his fault–he tries. Really hard, too. But there’s just nothing interesting about him.

Whenever his professors write recommendation letters for him, they always need to take a few extra days to think of what to write besides “bright young man.”

He’s above average in the looks department, and he gets good grades, but what wealthy family heir isn’t like that?

In fact, the only thing Suho likes about himself is his name–and it isn’t even his birth name at that. It’s something his best friend, Jessica, came up with on the spot in first grade so he wouldn’t get bullied.

Jessica argues that his personality is his charm, but he’s lacking there, too. He just says what he thinks other people want to hear; he’s generic, with no pronounced character. Even his roommate, Chanyeol, notices this.

“Hyung, no offense but you’re kind of boring,” Chanyeol drawls one day.

Suho rolls his eyes. “How could I possibly be offended by that?” he replies cynically.

It’s not fair. Chanyeol isn’t forgettable at all.

If Suho and Chanyeol ever meet anyone new, they always remember Chanyeol, not Suho. Actually, they seldom remember Suho.

Chanyeol doesn’t get good grades, and he skips classes a lot, but his professors still love him. Unlike Suho, he’s multi-talented; he knows how to mix and produce music, compose songs, and rap incredibly well–he can beat-box, too. He isn’t affluent–he’s really quite destitute–and pays tuition by selling his compositions and songs. He’s superior in the looks department, and his birth name is impressive enough that he doesn’t need a phony one.

Suho’s voice is kind of high and girly. Chanyeol sounds like bigfoot. Actually, Chanyeol is bigfoot–Suho barely comes up to his chin.

“I’m sorry I’m not as interesting as you, Chanyeol,” Suho continues in a grumble.

Chanyeol smirks. “Would you like me to teach you how to be?” he proposes, wiggling his eyebrows provocatively.

“I don’t think you have the intellectual capability to teach someone,” Suho shoots back.

Chanyeol laughs throatily. “Hyung, don’t we have an exam coming up?” he changes the subject.

Suho nods. “I’m going to go study. Do you want to come with me?” he offers as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

Chanyeol snorts, turning on the TV. “No, why would I study?”

Suho is a double-major; he’s majoring in musical theory, with Chanyeol, and business administration, with Jessica. Jessica always studies with him, regardless of which major it’s for–even if she’s studying for psychology and he’s studying for musical theory. Chanyeol, on the other hand, gets Suho refreshments while he studies.

Suho sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know why I try.”

“I don’t either. Bring me back a mocha cookie crumble,” Chanyeol calls after Suho as he closes the door.

It’s not fair. Chanyeol eats enough to feed a village yet he’s as slim as a stick. Suho barely has time to eat yet he has to work out every day just so he won’t gain weight.

When he arrives outside the dorm, it’s raining.

It’s always raining.

The beauty of living in Seattle.

Suho sighs before hunching over his bag–which has his laptop–and sprinting towards the main street. He exhales in sweet relief once he crosses the threshold of Starbucks.

It’s unusually idle today, to his introversive relief. The aroma of ground coffee beans welcomes him, and he’s abruptly enveloped by refreshing warmth as the door closes behind him. Tiffany, his usual barista, grins brightly at him from behind the counter. Her smile always makes his day.

“Well, if it isn’t the mighty Suho himself,” Tiffany greets him in English.

Suho’s smile fades as he groans. “Why are you torturing me when you can speak Korean?”

Tiffany laughs huskily. “Fine, fine, you’re no fun. Here to study?”

Tiffany is Suho’s seat partner in musical theory.

Suho nods. “You?”

Tiffany shrugs. “I’ve actually gotten a lot done. Most people study in their dorms, so today hasn’t been very busy.”

“I’ve noticed.” There’s no mistaking the glee in Suho’s voice.

“Hermit.” Tiffany rolls her eyes. “The usual?”

Suho nods and adds, “And a mocha cookie crumble for Chanyeol.”

It’s been a hard day, and he’s ready to settle in with a nice hazelnut macchiato. He turns to his favorite part of the cafe–the wide panel windows–but there’s something that’s partially blocking his view of the city. 

It’s a boy–a college student by stature, a middle school student by face–sitting by the windows. He’s fairly tall and quite lean, with a prominent jaw line and sharp facial features. His caramel-honey hair falls into his eyes, which are large and almost deer-like. He has a rounded nose and petite lips–pursed into a thoughtful pout as he gazes out the window pensively.

Suho can’t figure out how old he is.

But that isn’t what’s bothering him.

“Who’s that?” Suho demands, using his chin to indicate the boy.

Tiffany follows his gaze before smiling. “A very cute Chinese boy.”

Suho grits his teeth. That very cute Chinese boy was in his spot.

He grabs his drinks the moment Tiffany places them on the counter and storms over to the boy. Suho hesitates once he arrives, because he’s not sure how to address him. He settles for assuming the boy is in high school before snarling in English, “Excuse me, but this is my spot. You need to move.”

The boy glances at him, blinking rapidly. Suho softens for a moment when he sees the chaste bewilderment in his eyes but recovers quickly. He’s startled when the boy speaks in flawless Korean.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes in a gentle voice almost as honeyed as his hair before flashing a smile at Suho.

Suho regains his composure as he raises an eyebrow, waiting. When the boy doesn’t continue–or better yet, move–he urges, “Please move.”

The boy blinks, again. “Why? We can share.”

“There’s no room!” Suho denies immediately. The boy stares at him. The glass table is large enough to accommodate four people, and the only thing the boy has on it is his very berry hibiscus refresher. Suho’s ears turn pink. “I don’t want to share, this is my spot!” he whines childishly.

“Grow up and stop being so introverted,” Tiffany admonishes from the counter. The boy blinks and smiles (at the same time) at this.

Suho scowls before reluctantly sitting down. He doesn’t actually know why he dislikes the boy so much, but everything about him–namely his presence on such a wonderfully lonely day–just aggravates Suho. Especially the ingenuousness.

“You better stay quiet and leave me alone; I have an exam to study for,” Suho warns the boy as he spreads his things on the table.

“I’m Lu Han,” the boy introduces himself, as though he hadn’t heard Suho. “What’s your name?”

Suho stares at him. “Did you not hear what I just said?”

“What’s your name?” Lu Han repeats, cluelessly.

Disregarding this, Suho sighs and turns on his laptop. When Lu Han doesn’t get an immediate response, he begins poking Suho. Eventually, Suho snaps. “WHAT PART OF ‘LEAVE ME ALONE’ DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?” he roars.

“That’s a really long name,” Lu Han muses, his feathery eyebrows knitting together.

Suho opens his mouth again before closing it. Something occurs to him. “Did you not understand what I said?”

Lu Han grins innocently and shakes his head. “Nope!”

Suho groans. “Okay, my name is Suho. Happy?” He resumes studying–or at least attempts to–before Lu Han interrupts, again.

“Suho?” Lu Han giggles. “That’s a weird name. Why would anybody name their son ‘guardian’?”

Suho grits his teeth. “It’s not my birth name, you moron,” he retorts.

Lu Han’s eyebrows shoot up. His sable eyes twinkle with inquisitiveness as he leans forward. “Then what’s your birth name?”

Suho shakes his head. “I’m not telling you. Just leave me alone and drink your stupid coffee.”

“It’s not coffee, it’s–,”

“I DON’T CARE, SHUT UP!”

Lu Han complies, smiling and blinking obediently. However, his obedience lasts for all of four seconds as he starts poking Suho again and chanting, “What’s your birth name? What’s your birth name? What’s your birth name? What’s your birth name? What’s your–?”

“KIM JOONMYUN,” Suho wails in defeat. He screws his eyes shut in preparation for the barrage of insults. When it doesn’t come, he opens one eye to find Lu Han beaming at him.

“Aww, that’s such a cute name! Can I call you Joonmyun?” he croons.

Suho’s ears turn pink, again. “No!”

“How about Joonmyunnie?” Lu Han’s eyes are sparkling.

“How about hyung?” Suho growls, losing his patience.

His laptop is in mortal danger, with how intensely he’s typing.

“Hyung? Are you in college?” Lu Han inquires curiously, his eyes growing larger. Suho didn’t know that was possible.

“Yes, I’m in college,” he hisses. “I’m twenty-two.”

“Oh, then you’re younger than me! I’m twenty-three!” Lu Han cries delightedly.

Suho stares at him in disbelief. “You’re twenty-three?”

“Yeah! Do you want to see my ID? I just got one!” Lu Han squeals, reaching into his pocket.

Suho gazes at him skeptically a moment longer before shaking his head. “No need,” he responds, grudgingly adding the honorific suffix.

Lu Han looks crestfallen. With a pout, he returns the document to his pocket. They elapse into silence, but it's only momentary, because Lu Han starts poking Suho again. “Guess where I’m from, Joonmyun? Guess, guess, guess–,”

“I thought I told you not to call me that!” Suho snaps. Lu Han blinks, staring at him expectantly. Suho answers without removing his gaze from his laptop. “China.”

“Wow! How’d you know that? You must be really smart, Joonmyun!” Lu Han hollers admiringly.

Suho ignores him. Then, something else occurs to him. “Why are you speaking in Korean?”

“Because you’re Korean,” Lu Han answers, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah, but you’re–,” Suho exhales deeply. “You’re Chinese. And we’re in America. Why aren’t you speaking English?”

“I don’t know English!” Lu Han chirps. “You can ask Tiffany, I really don’t!”

Suho stares at him before gazing questioningly Tiffany. “When did you become so close with this moron that you’re on first-name basis?”

Tiffany shrugs. “He’s a cute moron.”

Lu Han beams blinkingly again, clearly pleased with himself. Suho rolls his eyes.

The study session is, as expected, unsuccessful. Suho barely registers any information and probably forgets more than he actually learns, thanks to Lu Han’s ceaseless chattering. In fact, it’s only when Tiffany announces that the shop is going to close that Lu Han finally stops talking.

“Thanks,” Suho grumbles as he packs his things way. “Thanks a lot. Now I’m going to fail my exam.”

“No, you won’t! You’re smart, Joonmyun!” Lu Han sings.

Suho doesn’t know whether he’s more irritated by what Lu Han says, or the fact that he’s being sincere about it.

It’s a pleasantly still trip home, and though Suho is fuming with rage, he’s grateful to be rid of the loquacious fool.

Or so he thought.

It isn’t until he’s fumbling with his keys in the hallway in front of the dorm that Lu Han pipes up, “Is this where you live, Joonmyun?”

Suho jumps violently, almost tripping over himself in shock. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? WHERE DID YOU EVEN COME FROM?” he bellows, placing one hand over his heart–which is positively racing.

Lu Han grins. “I followed you, of course. You’re my only friend in America so far besides Tiffany, but I can’t stay with Tiffany because she’s a girl.”

Suho’s eyes widen at the remark. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up,” he shakes his hands in the air as he speaks before stopping them directly in front of Lu Han, as though impeding his advances, “friends? When did we become friends?”

“Of course we’re friends! We just spent the day together over coffee!” Lu Han points out.

Suho stares at him. Lu Han looks as though his explanation explicates everything.

“Look, first of all, you are not coming into my dorm. Second of all, you are sure as hell not staying with me.” Suho opens the door and wipes his feet off on the mat. He turns to glare at Lu Han. “Leave.”

Lu Han’s eyes glisten helplessly and his lips begin to tremble. “B-but I have nowhere else to go!” he protests in a voice close to a whimper.

Maybe it’s the fact that he looks so lost that softens Suho, or maybe it’s just the fact that he wants this boy nowhere near him that he pulls out his wallet and shoves a wad of bills into Lu Han’s hand.

“Here’s a thousand dollars. Go stay at a hotel or something, but do not come back here.” Suho slams the door in Lu Han’s face.

Of course Chanyeol laughs when Suho tells him about Lu Han.

In fact, he’s still laughing about it two weeks later.

“Hyung, only you would get so peeved,” he chuckles. “This kid sounds like some serious fun. You’re just too boring to handle him.”

“I am not–,” Suho doesn’t get to finish his sentence because someone's knocking.

It seems his relief was only temporary, because Lu Han is at the door, again.