It was a quarter past ten that night, and the usually busy streets were almost empty that only the whistles of the chilly autumn wind could be heard. And since it's way past the standard operating hours, most of the buildings were empty, except for one, which was known to be one of the biggest broadcast stations in the city of Seoul. Yes, it was past the usual working hours but the glass elevator on the side of this building was casually doing its job as it stops and dings on the twenty-second floor.

The metal doors open to reveal a short boy with conspicuous wide eyes beneath long fringes and rectangular lenses. He was wearing an ebony coloured shirt with sleeves too long for his short limbs that they almost cover his ink-stained fingers, faded jeans and a pair of old, vandalized Chuck Taylors.

The elevator was not completely empty though, when he arrived. Standing alone inside was a rather corporate man, with skin too fair –considering he was a guy, and was clad in a light blue dress shirt under a grey blazer and matching slacks. The said man steps back to give space to the new occupant, the latter then enters and presses the close button right after.

For a few minutes, the closed area was covered in eerie silence, but after a few floors down, the elevator halts. The lights dim until the only source of lighting are the lights from the buildings outside the elevator’s glass walls.

Coming right after the sound of the machine shutting down is a loud “” from one of the two men inside causing the other to jump out of his reverie. The latter looks up to the source of the sound and it’s about time that he noticed a tattoo that says D.O. on his companion’s nape. He stares at shortly until he hears the other’s voice again muttering a series of “ this. this. this” while repeatedly stabbing the emergency call button with his finger.

He quietly approaches him and says, “Uh excuse me, but I don’t think there’ll be any available maintenance personnel at this hour.”

The wide-eyed one turns his head and the look of fury that his eyes reflect sends shivers to his companion, “You mean we’re stuck here until the morning?” he bellows.

“I-I’m afraid so,” the other steps back, kind of terrified of his new found company who sighs in return.

His furious eyes eventually get tamed as he collapses on one of the four corners of the space. He takes a black satchel from his side, “I guess I’d be sharing my daily dose of milk for tonight,” he playfully grumbles before pulling out a black bottle from the satchel. Bailey’s, the label reads.

He takes the cap off, takes a gulp, and offers the bottle to his companion, who stands on the other corner, the farthest that he can get from the other person inside, looking shaken. “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t expect me to get wasted while locked in a room with a total stranger, much less to share indirect kisses with him,” he mutters, judging eyes directed to the tattoo on the other’s neck.

“Oh,” the shorter boy chuckles, while a hand travels to the letters on his neck, “if it makes you feel better, my name’s Do Kyungsoo, 23, a freelance scriptwriter,” he extends his hand to the other’s direction, who still wouldn’t move a limb.

Do Kyungsoo laughs, “What? We’re already here so might as well get to know each other, don’t you think? And besides, it’s not our fault that we’re stuck here. It’s just, this building as much as its dickhead of a CEO.”

The man across him gapes for a moment, then as if he’s been poured with a bucket of ice-cold water, he shakes his head and his brows meet, “Excuse me?”

Kyungsoo takes another gulp from the bottle, before he chuckles again, “Why? Are you fascinated by him or something? For all I’ve heard, he’s nothing but an arrogant jerk.”

The man walks closer, sitting himself beside Kyungsoo and silently asks, “Is he, really?”

Kyungsoo just waves him – and the worried look on his eyes – off, “Whatever, let’s not talk about that. It’s not healthy to talk about bad-vibe-inducing things on the first meeting. As I’ve said, I want to get to know you more, now that I’ll spend the next eight hours or so with you, alone. What do you think?” he says with a sly smile, it was probably the alcohol talking now.

“I’m…in?” the stranger beside him replies, a bit unsure of the situation.

“Good,” Kyungsoo grins, “How about we play twenty questions? We alternately ask each other a question until we’ve asked ten each. And we should, by any means, tell the truth. Are you in?”

The stranger hesitantly nods, and with that, Kyungsoo proceeds, “’Right, I’m going first. Who are you?”

“Really?”

“What? It seems like you have no plans to introduce yourself to me, so I’m wasting my turn here.”

“If you say so, okay. I’m Kim Junmyeon, 25-years old, and the current CEO of this company.”

“…”

“…”

“Then I guess I’d have to prepare my resignation letter as soon as these ing doors get unlocked.”

“And maybe you should try and find another employer while you do that.”

Junmyeon grabs the bottle from Kyungsoo’s side, taking a gulp himself, letting the milky taste of Irish cream pass by his oral cavity, as the soothing feeling that the whiskey brings lingers on his throat. And then suddenly, he feels energized. He was about to quaff more of the said drink when the bottle was snatched away from his grasp.

“You shouldn’t be benefitting from me now when you’re planning to fire me tomorrow morning,” Kyungsoo slides his on the floor as he moves away from the older, hugging the bottle to his chest.

Junmyeon chuckles, apparently, he finds the sight cute. Or maybe it’s the whiskey, it’s too strong, he thinks. “Please,” he rolls his eyes, “don’t you think you should give a reason for me to think that you’re actually worth keeping?”

Kyungsoo shrugs, but he still wouldn’t move from his place, which kind of frustrates Junmyeon.

“Why do you hate me so much, anyway?” Junmyeon decides to ask. “And that is my question, so you should answer, come on.”

“Y-you…” Kyungsoo squeaks, “you’re basically making my life harder. You and your stupid senior script editor just wouldn’t accept my works. He keeps on saying that they’re good, but they’re not good enough. You know, I’ve been working here for a year already, and none of my works has been used for a film or an episode in a drama. I should’ve just transferred to another company but that stupid script editor won’t let me go, he keeps on forcing me to renew my contract every time. Although we always end up fighting and he always ends up telling me to just go to the CEO if I have problems with my job, and it’s really stupid.”

Junmyeon gulps, “So you’re the one who sent me hate e-mails and death threats?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, “I-I was drunk! And you’re really rude so I think you deserve that.” He turns his back from the older.

“What makes you think so? And what right do you have to judge my personality when you don’t really know me in the first place?” Junmyeon wraths, nudging Kyungsoo’s lower back with his foot.

“Well if you still remember, you fired my friend because his car was blocking your car’s way in the parking lot. And he was my only friend in this hellhole of a company, for your information. So it’s practically your fault that I’m living as a loner twenty four-seven,” Kyungsoo huffs. “And will you stop asking me questions, it’s my turn now.”

Junmyeon leans lazily on the wall behind him and waves, “Whatever.”

“Why are you always so grumpy?” the younger asks in an annoying tone and the older just rolls his eyes in return.

“My father just forced me to do this job, I’m not really interested in working in this -like company he has,” Junmyeon casually answers, “Now can I give you my question now?”

Kyungsoo waves his hands and whines, “This is getting boring, I hate you.”

“Huh, boring you say?” Junmyeon smirks.

“Whatever, shoot me.”

“Have you ever fallen in love?”

Junmyeon stares at Kyungsoo who seems to be gaping at him, though he didn’t fail to notice the emptiness in the younger’s eyes.

The younger shakes his head, “No. Never. I’ve never experienced such thing, and I don’t think I will soon, at least.”

“Maybe that’s why your scripts never get accepted. Because they lack real feelings, everything was just made up,” the older concludes.

“But what’s the point? I mean, I choose not to fall in love. And I can still write, so well even. I don’t get it, what’s the big deal about falling in love anyway?” the younger replies, taking a swig from the long-forgotten whiskey bottle.

The older stares at him for a few seconds, not really having a concrete idea on what to answer, “I don’t really know, actually,” he admits, “but I think it’s actually when you finally know yourself. When you’re in love, you can actually see what you want to happen in the future, with that person you’re in love with. I guess, when you’re in love, every confusion, every uncertainty will be cleared. I think it really is the best feeling you can ever feel, because then you know where you’re headed, with that one person that you want to be with for the rest of your life,” Junmyeon ends his answer with a dreamy smile. A handsome one actually, Kyungsoo thinks.

“By the way you’re acting now, grumpy and all, I guess you’re not in love with someone at the moment?” he inquires.

Junmyeon just shakes his head and gives out a quiet laugh. “You can’t ask me that now, it’s my turn to ask,” he grabs the bottle from Kyungsoo’s grasp and takes a mouthful of whiskey himself.

Kyungsoo grunts as he waits for Junmyeon’s question.

“What’s the issue about falling in love? Why does it seem like you’re not interested in the idea of it or something?” Junmyeon probes, moving a bit closer to his companion.

“It’s nothing really,” Kyungsoo begins, “I just want to focus on my career first, as if there is,” he chuckles. “I just want to get rich first before anything else. I don’t want any distractions. I’m not bragging or anything, but I’ve got my fair share of suitors back in high school, but they eventually gave up on pursuing me because I wouldn’t bother even once. Honestly speaking though, there are times when I regret it. Because I’m already 23 and I haven’t dated a single human being, it right?” he chuckles a little before continuing, “But I always believed in perfect timing. In the future, when everything’s all settled, when I’m already rich, then I guess I’m all set to fall in love, get married even.”

Junmyeon turns to him with furrowed eyebrows, “But don’t you think it’s wrong? Don’t you think this is not how life is supposed to work?”

“Hmm?” Kyungsoo asks while he drinks from the bottle.

“I mean, you’re sacrificing what might have been a good and happy life to prepare for the future when you’re not even sure if it’ll come. You never know, this might be your last day and you still haven’t fulfilled everything that needs to be fulfilled because you were saving it for the future. You can’t just waste your life like that, you know,” Junmyeon speaks, sinking on the wall behind him.

“I just answered your question so can I ask you now?” Kyungsoo casually asks, despite the frustration in Junmyeon’s tone earlier.

The older just nods and mutters, “Shoot me.”

“Are you in love with someone at the moment? Or if not, when was the last time that you fell in love?”

Junmyeon cringes at the question, “Can’t I-“

“No, you can’t not answer, it’s on the rules.”

“Well, can’t you just change-“

“No, so please proceed to your answer, sir.”

“I-“ Junmyeon opens his mouth, but it seems like he’s not ready to speak up. The tension was obvious in his face, his hands were fidgety while he continuously wipe them against the cloth covering his thighs. “I-“ he opens his mouth again, but still nothing comes out. It was when Kyungsoo gave him a threatening look that he sighed, long and loud, before finally giving his answer, “I used to have a girlfriend about two years ago. And I really loved her, trust me. But now she’s…she’sgone,” his last line almost came out as a whisper, and Kyungsoo could feel how hurt he feels.

He started to move closer thinking he could somehow comfort the other when he continued his story. “She died in a car crash,” his voice was becoming a bit hoarse now, Kyungsoo could tell that he was on the verge of crying, but he was controlling himself, “that night she…she caught me…cheating on her. She drank…a lot, I went to fetch her from the bar but she kept on running away from me. She went in her car and she…she drove…away from me. And then the next thing I knew…BAM!” he gestures his hands to show something has exploded, “she crashed into a truck. I tried to save her, I drove as fast as I can, but no. She…she was…dead on arrival,” by now, his face is buried in both of his hands, and Kyungsoo could hear faint sobs, “And it was all me, it was all my fault. I should be the one who’s dead, I do not deserve to be happy.”

“No,” Kyungsoo hears himself mutter, “if you really deserved to die then you would’ve died two years ago. You wouldn’t be here right now, talking to me. You’re alive, you should forget the past. I’m sure she’s forgiven you by now, if she really loved you, that is.”

“Kyungsoo, you don’t know, you’re not-“ Junmyeon protests, but Kyungsoo butts in.

"Look at you now, ten minutes ago, you were lecturing me about how I should not just think of the future that might never come, and now you're saying that you're purposely locking yourself in the past that's for sure can never be undone," Kyungsoo chuckles a bit at the irony, and Junmyeon just gapes at him.

"Kyungsoo, you don't understand, it's-" Junmyeon tries to explain but he gets cut off.

"Oh I totally understand, Junmyeon. And I think we're both at the wrong side here," Kyungsoo extends both of his arms, chest-level, with hands parallel to each other. "Life is neither about the past," he gestures his left hand, "nor the future", and now the right. "What's important is what's in the middle, what's in there when the past and the future meet halfway," and now he lets both of his hands travel in the air until they meet and he clasps them together, "and it's called the present. We should not live our lives with the memories from the past or the fantasies from the future. We should look at what's here right now," he turns so that he's completely looking Junmyeon in the eye, "at what's in front of us."

For a few minutes the closed area was filled with silent air, until Junmyeon thinks that he finally gets what Kyungsoo just said that his jaw drops so his mouth forms an 'O' and he lets out an audible "Oh." He looks away for a bit and asks "Are you saying that....perhaps...you-...I uhm...with me...I mean- uhm-"

Despite the semi-darkness, Kyungsoo notices the color of crimson creeping through Junmyeon's cheeks, and his own eyes widen as he thinks he knew what Junmyeon was thinking, "What? No! How dare you think that?" He bellows, he takes the bottle of whiskey and takes a gulp. Feeling hot, he started to fan his face turning his back to his companion.

“…”

“…”

“That was…silly…of me. To think that, I mean. I’m sorry.”

“Yes…that was…silly…of you.”

The air was filled with awkward silence as both their skins were almost as bright as the red lights outside the glass walls of the elevator.

Junmyeon feels hot, but he still decides to have some drink so he extends his hand to grasp onto the bottle. He has prepared his palm to meet the cold glass but he lets it clasp onto warm flesh instead.

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, it was awkward, yes, but he likes the feeling of Junmyeon’s warm hand enveloping his own. It’s definitely just because of the whiskey, he thinks but he lets his eyes close to feel the moment.

Junmyeon lets go –much to Kyungsoo’s displeasure –and squeaks, “It’s fine, you can take it.”

And Kyungsoo does, he takes it all in, as much as he can. Thinking it might stop his heart from the weird jumping it’s doing that sort of nauseates him.

“Uhm…maybe…maybe we should go on… With the game, I mean,” he hears Junmyeon stutter.

Kyungsoo nods, “Maybe we should. It’s…it’s your turn.”

“I...just wanted to ask…about your, tattoo,” Junmyeon points at his own neck, where Kyungsoo’s tattoo is located on his own.

“Oh,” Kyungsoo touches the area where the tattoo is drawn, “I think I was drunk when my classmate and I decided to get ourselves this. And I totally regret it, because gosh, this is so lame,” he lets out a frustrated whine that causes Junmyeon to start laughing, “I mean, D.O.? it’s not cool really, like, who spells out their surnames on tattoos? The tattoo artist was probably laughing his out when I left his shop. And why the heck are you laughing?”

Taken aback, the older keeps quiet for a few seconds, before he continues his laughing streak again, “Because you look funny,” he hiccups, and Kyungsoo thinks he might’ve emptied the whiskey bottle while he was talking, “and I just realized how lame your tattoo is.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, and for a moment he finds himself staring at the laughing Junmyeon, noting how adorable and y he looks, with his eyes shut into little crescents, and how thin and red his lips are, not to mention they were wet too, because of the drink, probably.

Eventually, Junmyeon stops and stares back at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo doesn’t really know where it came from, but he suddenly hears himself saying, “You know, there’s this weird tingly feeling in my stomach that urges me to kiss you right now.”

Junmyeon’s eyes widen for a bit, before Kyungsoo feels a tug on his forearm and he finds himself sitting on his companion’s lap, straddling him. “Would you?” the older murmurs in a y, hoarse voice.

And Kyungsoo can’t help himself and his arms end up circling the other’s neck, he asks “Would that be your last question then?”

“I guess,” Junmyeon quietly replies, with his hands now caressing the younger’s sides.

“But then we wouldn’t be able to finish our game,” the younger mumbles, while their faces get closer and closer.

“Who cares,” by now, Junmyeon has grabbed onto the back of Kyungsoo’s head and pushed it to his own.

This kiss wasn’t too gentle, it wasn’t too harsh either, though it was safe to say that both were hungry. The taste was of Irish cream, obviously, and maybe of pure satisfaction basing on the sighs that can be heard from the two.