The coffee shop is already full and noisy when Luhan arrives, books under his arm, to order a latte and write his essays while sitting under the big window in the front of the café. It’s like this every day. He goes in, orders his coffee from the always-smiling barista Jongdae, and finishes his huge stack of school work with old-fashioned jazz playing lazily in the background. That’s how he likes it.

He adjusts his bag on his shoulder and gets in line, rehearsing his order over once in his head. One small decaf latte, please. For here. But, as he nears the front of the line he notices that something is different. Instead of the usual grinning, square-jawed Kim Jongdae at the counter taking orders, there is someone new. His hair is an unusual shade of cherry blossom pink and he’s a little short, probably taller than he looks since he’s leaning on the counter.

Luhan can’t read his name tag from here, but he can read the sign that his attention drifts to as the line moves on. Written in big block letters on a piece of card stock and propped up on the counter in an eye-catching fashion it reads:

Hello! I am Kim Jongdae’s cousin who will be filling in for him while he is taking care of some family matters. Please point to what you would like to order on this menu so I can take your order :)

Under the words ‘this menu’ there is a brightly colored arrow pointing to what looks like a laminated list of the café’s wares. Luhan is intrigued. He’s never seen someone take orders in such a way. Is he a foreigner, perhaps? Maybe he doesn’t speak Korean. Even Luhan’s Korean is pretty good, even though he came from China just two years ago.

Either way, he already has the latte’s menu number committed to memory and so he doesn’t have any trouble pointing to what he wants. The other young man’s gaze is intense but soft, and his eyes have a bright energetic light behind them. His name tag reads ‘Minseok’.

Minseok smiles at Luhan once he’s written down the order, those eyes crinkling slightly at the corners when he does so. A real, genuine smile. Luhan becomes, for some reason,  a bit breathless.  What a charming young man. He smiles in response and then goes to wait for his drink, watching the other all the time.

Minseok goes through the business of taking down orders and running the espresso machine with a silent grace, smiling all the while. Unlike Jongdae he doesn’t make an attempt to converse with the customers, further convincing Luhan that he must be foreign.

 Sometimes, he’ll run his hand though his candy-colored hair to tidy it and Luhan is so wrapped up in watching him that he almost doesn’t notice his coffee being set down on the counter.

He shakes himself out of his mesmerized stupor and picks up the cup and saucer, thanking Minseok as he goes to his seat and settles down with his books. He has a language essay to write, one on music theory, and an entire chapter of calculus to finish. He certainly has his work cut out for him.

He begins to write, sipping his latte and can’t help but notice with a little shiver of happiness that the shape of a heart has been swirled into the milky foam that floats on top by the cute, mysterious young man who’s taking orders at the counter.

Luhan wonders how long Jongdae will be out of town and hopes it’ll be more than a few days.

An essay and a half later the café is beginning to empty itself, patrons going home after a long day at work or school, and the mothers with their children leaving one by one as they finished their hot cocoas. If Jongdae were here he would be emptying the pastry display and giving the older ones to Luhan, but today there is Minseok who sold every last pastry during the day with his charismatic charms and is now mopping the floor as Luhan begins to close up his work.

 Putting the last of his papers back in his bag he stands up and pushes in the chair. They are alone, and the chair makes an awkward scraping sound on the shiny wood floor. Minseok only looks up when Luhan walks a few steps toward the door, putting up a hand in a ‘stop’ sign.

Luhan pauses and waits as the round-faced boy puts down his mop and approaches him looking nervous. “So, you’re Jongdae’s cousin?” Luhan breaks the silence.

Minseok furrows his brow, holding up his hand again. Then he digs in his pocket and pulls out a pen and paper, holding it in his palm while he scribbles something down. He holds it out to Luhan for him to read.

You might have guessed, but I’m deaf. Unless you know sign language, writing is the easiest way to communicate with me. Is that okay?

Luhan is a little surprised, but he digs a pencil from his bag and writes back.

Oh, I thought you might be foreign. How’s the job going so far?

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It’s good, actually! I’m selling a lot and it’s not nearly as hard as I expected.

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