-1 year later-

Myungsoo stretched before opening his eyes. The first thing he saw was the ceiling. The second thing he saw, as he moved his head, was his camera, unused for over a year now and collecting dust on the shelf above the desk. The third thing he saw, rolling over, was Dongwoo, who was still snoring in his own bed. Myungsoo climbed out of bed, nudged Dongwoo just enough to wake him, and went to shower and get ready for work.

Dongwoo managed to pull himself out from under the covers and get dressed before heading to his job at his family’s octopus restaurant. On his way to work, he passed some street dancers. He felt wistful, as though they reminded him of something long forgotten, but he couldn’t remember, and he brushed past them without so much as a second glance.

Woohyun, who had realized after the boys’ fateful argument one year ago that he would not have enough money to support himself if he moved out, had once told Dongwoo with a smile that he would rather be working at the octopus restaurant as well. But that had been a long time ago, and Woohyun still had the same job at the same company, along with Sunggyu. Strangely enough, Woohyun could not even remember why he had wanted his own apartment in the first place. Since the argument, it felt natural that he and the others would stick together. Something seemed to keep them from drifting too far apart.

“Yah, Namu, what time is it?” Sunggyu sat up in bed. After exchanging looks with Woohyun, they both dove for the closet, scrambling to find their shirts and ties in time.

Hoya sat at the kitchen table eating the rice he’d made and reading the newspaper. Sungjong, also eating rice, was staring blankly at the college textbook in front of him. A bleary-eyed Sungyeol stumbled into the room, rubbing his arms as if to warm himself.

“Jongie, why didn’t you wake me? I have to be at the coffee shop in forty minutes.”

“I have better things to do,” Sunjong said calmly, without really knowing what those things were.

Sungyeol shrugged. Hoya turned up the radio.

Myungsoo strode through the kitchen with a brief “I’m leaving now”. The front door shut behind him a few seconds later.

The firm that Myungsoo worked for served partially as a consulting firm and partially as the link between businesses seeking images and photographers willing to provide them. Myungsoo didn’t particularly enjoy his job, but he didn’t dislike it. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else, but his main goal was to make a living, not to amuse himself during the workday.

Myungsoo adjusted his tie as he walked. It was going to be another sweltering summer day, and he was wearing a long-sleeved collared shirt. He couldn’t stand the heat. He used to enjoy it as a child, when his mother would take him swimming and later in high school when he used to have water balloon fights with Sungyeol, his best friend. But these days, Myungsoo hated the balmy summer and the golden fall. Although, he thought, it didn’t really matter anyway. He would be in the air-conditioned office almost the entire day.

Myungsoo arrived at work and made it to his small office with a few minutes to spare before his first meeting. He sighed and sipped his water while glancing over some papers at his desk. The secretary had ogled him again when he walked in the double glass doors that morning. He had ignored her as usual, throwing her an abrupt greeting without pausing to make eye contact.

“Kim Myungsoo-ssi?”

Myungsoo stood up to greet his new client. “Annyeonghaseyo. You must be Kang Jihyuk-ssi.”

“Ne.” Kang Jihyuk bowed.

“Please, have a seat.” Myungsoo gestured to the chair in front of his desk before sitting down in his own chair. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m running a startup business that conducts historic tours of Seoul for foreigners. I’d like to include photographs of the various sights in our guidebooks that combine modern interests with traditional structures and aspects of our country to appeal to foreign tourists.”

Myungsoo made careful notes in his new file, to be typed up later. Historic tours of Seoul for foreigners. Guidebook photos. Combines modern and traditional aspects.

“Is that all?” He set down his pen.

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll give you a call when I have a list of possible photographers. Once I have that list, we can meet again, and I will show you some examples of their individual work so that you can find what you’re looking for. After you select a photographer, I’ll give you their contact information so that you can set up a consultation with them. From there, my part is done. Does that sound good?”

“Absolutely. How long will it take? I’m working on a deadline.”

Myungsoo capped his pen. “I should have a list for you by the end of the week.”

“Perfect. It was nice meeting you, Kim Myungsoo-ssi.” Kang Jihyuk smiled, rose, and shook the standing Myungsoo’s hand.

“It was my pleasure,” Myungsoo said without a smile, shaking Kang Jihyuk’s hand in return.

After his client’s departure, Myungsoo filed his notes away and worked for the rest of the morning in silence.

Park Yoojin heaved a sigh of relief as she handed the last customer in line their coffee and sandwich. She had spent the morning leaning over the counter, serving customers and listening to the whirring sounds and chatter of the coffee shop. College students grabbing a cappucino between classes. Informal business lunch dates. Couples on their day off. The occasional ajumma.

But when lunch arrived, the shop had been swept into a frenzy. There were more customers than could be counted. Bit by bit, they were given their orders and either took a seat or exited the shop. Now that the waves of demand had momentarily died down, Yoojin placed her elbows on the glass case, propped her head in her hands, and surveyed the shop while she rested. She still had a few hours left in her shift. Wednesdays were her long days. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sungyeol, her coworker, replenishing the supply of to-go lids.

Lee Sungyeol was a continual puzzle to Yoojin. Why that man chose to work in the generally amiable atmosphere of a campus coffee shop, she had no idea. He didn’t seem to belong. He was finishing up the last of his studies at the university, and that was the full extent of her knowledge of him, save that he never seemed to smile.

He must have sensed her thoughts, because he suddenly turned to her and said, “Yah, you should be working.”

“I am working!” She protested. “There isn’t even any line.”

Sungyeol waved a handful of plastic spoons at her. “Then find something else to do.”

Yoojin stretched a bit and pushed away from the counter, giving a brief laugh. “You look like you’re ready to eat your way through the dessert case.”

He stared at her blankly. “If you don’t get back to work, I’m going to report you to manager-nim. I’ll really do it. Just watch me.”

Yoojin scowled and shook her head once he’d gone back into the supply room to clock out for his lunch break. Aish, does he even have a sense of humor? She had never once seen Sungyeol laugh.

Yoojin was busying herself with some coffee filters when she heard the bell marking the entrance of a new customer. She looked up to see a young man walk through the glass door.

He was wearing a collared shirt and a carefully contrasting tie. His face was symmetrical. V-line. Aegyosal. Nice nose. A mouth that seemed to be smirking, frowning, and unamused all at the same time. Everything about his physical appearance seemed to be placed precisely where it was supposed to be. He scanned the shop with a sharp gaze, his dark eyes flicking over her without so much as a second glance. Yoojin immediately felt like a speck of dust under his surveyal. felt dry. She fixed herself a cup of water and drank it quickly, watching the handsome stranger as discreetly as she could. He didn’t seem to notice or care but simply stood near the door, watching. And waiting.

Sungyeol emerged from the supply room, brushing his hands on his jeans. He started when he saw the stranger by the door, then approached him, raising a hand.

“Myungsoo-ya.”

“Ah, Sungyeol-ah.”

So the stranger was a friend of Sungyeol’s.

“I just clocked out for my break, so if you’re going to order something, you’ll have to order at the counter.” Yoojin felt slightly hurt that Sungyeol didn’t even bother to refer to her by name, but she wasn’t at all surprised by his blunt speech.

Myungsoo shrugged. “Okay, hold on.”

He approached the counter. Yoojin tried desperately to seem as if she had been doing something productive for the past five minutes besides watch Sungyeol and his friend. She hadn’t been able to help herself. She was curious as to what kind of friend the humorless Sungyeol would have managed to make. And what’s more, that friend was strikingly attractive.

He was there.

“Annyeonghaseyo! What can I get for you?” She flashed her smile at Myungsoo, who was unaffected.

“One medium, strong, bitter coffee,” he said, maintaining direct eye contact. His eyes seemed to bore into her.

She pressed some buttons. “Anything else?”

“No.” He slid his card.

“You aren’t eating?” Sungyeol came up behind him.

“I stopped for a sandwich on the way here.”

“Ah.”

Yoojin considered calling out the order, but given there were no other customers waiting, she fixed the coffee herself, specially brewing the bitter Thai variety that Myungsoo had requested.

“Here you go! One medium bitter-”

“Komapda.” He cut her off, taking the coffee, and walked away with Sungyeol.

Yoojin followed him with her eyes. Myungsoo walked past the condiment counter without fixing his coffee. He didn’t smile, not even at his friend. One thing was for sure, thought Yoojin. Sungyeol’s friend was just as cold as Sungyeol was.

“Busy morning?” Sungyeol brushed some coffee grounds from his shirt hem.

“Mm,” Myungsoo replied, barely moving his mouth. “You?”

“Really busy. There were so many couples today, plus the usual students.”

Myungsoo snorted at the mention of the couples. “Do you ever see anyone you know at the shop?”

Sungyeol seemed surprised at Myungsoo’s question. “You mean like from class?”

Myungsoo nodded.

“I don’t really know,” Sungyeol said.

Meanwhile, Dongwoo was slouching over a cooking pot in the kitchen of his family’s octopus restaurant, waiting for the water to boil. He rubbed his eyes and yawned twice. He was exhausted. He had tried to get a good night’s sleep by going to bed early the night before. He had even missed Woohyun’s midnight ramyeon, which he made every Tuesday. Everyone else had congregated around the kitchen table, eating shin ramyeon and talking, but Dongwoo had been asleep. It hadn’t had much of an effect, though. Dongwoo had always been an excellent sleeper. The difference was that lately, he was constantly tired no matter how much he slept. Dongwoo yawned again, his eyes watering from a combination of chopping onions and yawning.

“Dongwoo-ya.” His mother poked her head into the kitchen. “Why don’t you take a break or pass out some menus.” She said it kindly, but Dongwoo knew from the look in her eyes that she was worried he would botch an order or accidentally give back too much change at the register in his fatigued state.

“Ne,” he replied briefly, washing his hands. He splashed some cold water on his face in the hope that it would wake him up, but it just made him shiver.

Yoojin could see Sungyeol and Myungsoo talking outside. Through the tint of the front window, Myungsoo’s expression seemed dark. But when he and Sungyeol stepped back inside, she realized that it really was.

“When do you get off?” Myungsoo asked. To Yoojin’s surprise, he took a sip of his bitter coffee without grimacing.

“I have another hour of work, but after that, I have classes until 8.” Sungyeol let out an exasperated sigh. “Sunggyu hyung’s gonna be mad if I don’t pull my weight around the apartment again.”

“Then pull your weight.” Myungsoo didn’t say it meanly. His tone was matter-of-fact, as though what he had just said was the obvious solution.

“How? I have so much to do.”

“Wash the dishes for Woohyun. Help Sungjong with his school things or something.”

Myungsoo took another sip of his coffee. Still no grimace, Yoojin noticed. It was like he was immune to the wrath of bitter Thai coffee.

Sungyeol checked his watch, his eyes widening. “Ah, arasseo, arasseo; I have to get back to work now.”

“Me too. See you later tonight, then.”

Myungsoo’s hand moved slightly. It took Yoojin a moment to realize it was the smallest of waves.

Myungsoo made blank, brief eye contact with Yoojin when he glanced at the clock behind her. Then he left.

Yoojin was putting forth great effort to still her curiosity and remind herself that it was none of her business who the other names she’d heard belonged to. She was repeating not my business, not my business, not my business and wiping up a spill when Sungyeol returned, wearing his apron.

“I saw you looking,” he said.

“What do you mean? Ya, Lee Sungyeol, that’s really forward of you, especially to a girl.” Yoojin didn’t know whether she was mortified more by the fact that Sungyeol thought she had been checking his friend out or the manner in which he had chosen to inform her.

Sungyeol frowned. “Not like that. Besides, it’s not like it’s anything special to him. He gets it all the time.”

“Gets what?” Yoojin’s hand stopped.

“Women throwing themselves at him.”

“Ah.” Yoojin began scrubbing at a stain under one of the coffee machines. “Is that jealousy I sense?”

“No,” Sungyeol replied. “Are you serious? It’s so bothersome. Bothersome for him. Bothersome for everyone.”

Yoojin didn’t know how to respond, so she fell silent. Sungyeol went off to find some other task to perform. Yoojin stared at the door for a bit, trying to decide why she cared about what Sungyeol had told her. She really shouldn’t. She wasn’t the type to be interested in random attractive men. And she certainly wasn’t interested in someone like Sungyeol’s friend. Not someone like Myungsoo. His gaze had even frightened her a bit. It was just curiosity, she decided. Just curiosity.

Myungsoo walked into chaos when he arrived back at the apartment that evening. Dongwoo and Hoya were attempting to fix dinner. Woohyun was calling out unwanted yet much needed cooking advice from the couch, where he and Sunggyu were both sitting, still in their suits. Sunggyu’s tie was strewn across his lap. Myungsoo couldn’t tell if Sunggyu was sleeping or not. Sungjong knelt at the coffee table, doing homework, while Sungyeol loomed over him, deaf to Sungjong’s progressively louder cries of “I said I don’t need any help! I’m in the same college as you, for heaven’s sake!”.

This was not an unusual scene to Myungsoo.

A yell came from the kitchen. “Ya, ya, ya- careful, don’t-”

“It’s alright, Howon-ah, I’ve got it!”

“No, Dongwoo, watch the burner! Yah, how can you not cook? You work at a restaurant all day.”

Woohyun rolled his eyes and headed for the kitchen, passing Myungsoo on the way. “Oh, Myungsoo, annyeong! GUYS, HURRY UP, WE’RE ALL HUNGRY!”

Myungsoo closed the door. Sunggyu’s eyes widened. Slightly.

“Hey.”

Myungsoo nodded. “What are they cooking?”

“You mean what are they trying to cook? I have no idea.”

“Woohyun can probably save it, whatever it is.”

A crash was heard from the kitchen.

“Woohyun-ah, you burned yourself!”

“I did?” There was a pause, and then they could hear Woohyun’s voice again. “What? How did that happen?”

“You touched the burner, that’s how!” Hoya said.

“But I didn’t feel it...”

Sunggyu turned to Myungsoo. “Long day?”

“Eh, well.” Myungsoo shrugged. “The same. And you?”

“I didn’t sleep well last night. I heard something in here, and when I came out, Hoya was stretching on the kitchen floor. I don’t even know.” Sunggyu stifled a yawn.

Sungjong slammed his fist down on the table, startling Myungsoo and Sunggyu.

“I told you, I can do it by myself!”

“Fine.” Sungyeol left the room.

Meanwhile, the kitchen was still a mess. Dongwoo was running tap water over Woohyun’s burnt finger. Hoya was stirring what was supposed to be kimchi fried rice.

They ate in silence. Everyone was tired for their various reasons. After clearing the table, they put their plates in the crowded sink.

“Who’s washing dishes?” Dongwoo asked.

“We cooked, so we have to wash them,” Hoya said.

“How does that make sense?” Woohyun frowned. “Getting more work because you worked?”

“I’ll wash them; there’s not really much else for me to do right now.” Remembering his words to Myungsoo about pulling his weight around the apartment, Sungyeol stood up and the faucet.

Myungsoo also rose. “I have work to do. Thank you, hyung, Woohyun, Hoya.”

Myungsoo was still sitting at his desk filing his new client’s request on his computer when Dongwoo entered in his pajamas.

“Oh, hyung, you’re sleeping now?” Myungsoo asked without tearing his eyes from the laptop screen.

“Mmm.” Dongwoo disappeared under the covers.

Myungsoo continued typing, not worrying about the sound of his fingers hitting the keys. It took a lot more than a space bar to awaken Jang Dongwoo.

Yoojin was also typing on her laptop, fervently trying to finish the first draft of her paper before she went to bed so that she wouldnt have to do it the next day. Papers were spread all over her desk, an overturned pencil cup drowning under the stacks.

A male’s voice echoed in the living room, and Yoojin scrambled to fix the neckline of her shirt before she realized that her roommate was watching a drama. If Yoojin listened just closely enough, she could make out the words of the male lead.

“I don’t like girls like you,” he said. “You are nothing to me.”

Yoojin scoffed. She couldn’t stand cold men either. For this reason, she didn’t enjoy watching many dramas. What frustrated her the most was the girls, real or fictional, who fawned over men like that. Yes, he’s handsome. Yes, he’s rich. But he’s also a jerk. Even if the men in the dramas treated the girls better in the end, how could that make up for how badly they had previously treated them? But Yoojin had never been in a relationship before, so she allowed that maybe she was unable to fully understand it without more romantic experience.

Her thoughts wandered to the coffee shop, and she let out a laugh at how similar Sungyeol’s friend, Myungsoo, had been to Sungyeol. No smiles, no jokes.

“Two of a kind.” She resumed typing.