A day after the latest issue

“You owed me.” Jongin reminded him for the fifth times this morning, earning him an unimpressed stare from his best friend.

“Please.”

“I’m still sleepy. You know how dangerous it is to ride a vehicle when you’re sleepy.”

“That was why I talked your ear off nonstop from Mok-dong to here.” Sehun sighed. “And now my jaw hurts and my hips are sore. Couldn’t you get a regular bike with regular seat?”

Jongin was eyeing the bubble tea in Sehun’s hand when Sehun snapped.

“What are you looking at and why aren’t you parking your bike?”

“It’s not ‘bike’, you noob. It’s Ducati. And don’t distract me—why did you go as far as my neighbourhood just to buy that?”

Sehun hid his face from Jongin’s searching gaze. “The best bubble tea I’ve ever tasted is in there.”

“Yeah, I know, you’ve told me but you’re being weird. You haven’t even drunk that and the distance between my apartment and Daechi-dong is like, what, 17 km?”

“What, I can’t save it for the first period?”

Jongin chuckled. “That you think you can fool me is a cute notion, Sehun-ah. So, tell me. Who is that bubble tea for?”

 “Just get out of my sight.”

“Whatever, I’ll know by the end of the day.” Jongin cooed. “So cute, this kid.”

He had it again; the dream, of doe-eyed little boy and his baby brother, of sea and clear skies, of men in suits. There was something about the dream that bothered Minseok just enough to make him stay rooted in his bed for ten minutes after he was awoken.

Where it was? Why did he dream about something he was sure he never experienced? Who was that little boy with teary face and snotty nose?

“Out of your daydream already and help me prepare the table, Minseok-ah.”

He turned around to see his mother opened the rice cooker’s lid; her apron was askew and her skirt was smeared by some suspicious substance. He also spotted the seams were tore here and there.

“Yes, Mother.”

“And get your sisters. Are they awake?”

“Since ten minutes ago.”

Minseok was watching his mother jogged around the kitchen, juggling with morning tasks when unconsciously he asked.

“I had a dream.”

“Obviously, since you washed your hair this morning.”

Minseok smiled a little. “No, not that dream. I saw sea…” he paused, “and my much younger self.”

Were his eyes playing tricks on him or his mother’s back actually stiffened?

His mother cleared . “Look it up on the internet or something, what dreaming about the sea means.”

“Should I look up about the meaning of seeing men in black suits and shades, too, then?”

The tea cup her mother was holding slipped out of her hand and shattered in pieces. Startled, Minseok grabbed his mother’s arms by instinct so that she would not step on the shards.

“Be careful. How did that happen, anyway?” Minseok scolded her gently.

He ran to get a broom and was ready to clean the mess when his mother stopped him.

“Let me.”

“No, mother, it’s okay.”

“You’re going to be late. Go.”

For some reason this upset Minseok greatly for he was constantly searching for his mother’s face and just as insistently, his mother avoided looking into his son’s.

“I haven’t even had my breakfast.” Minseok said petulantly. “And it’s only 6 in the morning. What are you talking about?”

His mother heaved a sigh as she crouched down to carefully pick the destroyed tea cup. Strands of hair covered some part of her reddened face and suddenly, Minseok felt something tugging at his gut. His mother was only 36, but she somehow looked so old.

“Mother,” he started.

“I’ll give you some allowance. You can eat at school.”

“What? Mo—“

“Just do as I said, Kim Minseok!” she half-screamed, catching his son off guard. Not wasting another second, Minseok snatched his school bag on the dining table and got out of the house.

Had he stayed a bit longer, he would have witnessed her mother’s tears.

“Get in, Kris.”

Yifan stared incredulously.

He was walking at leisure pace, enjoying the morning rush of Gangnam-gu when a taxi pulled off just two meters ahead f him and a pretty head owned by Zhang Yixing came out, ordering him to get in the car.

“You realise there are at least a dozen of students inside, don’t you?”

Yixing frowned. “I knew it. I should have rented a van instead this morning.”

Yifan had a hard time to decide if the fellow Chinese was serious or cheeky and found himself astonished when he saw that he meant it.

“But you can still fit in. Come, come.” Yixing’s face lighten up again, seemingly forgot that he just agreed that the taxi was already too full to accept a new body.

Yifan waved his hand carelessly. “Nah, I’ll pass. I didn’t know you still do this.”

“’Course I do.”

Yixing always went to school by taxi twice a week so he could pick walking students in the way up. On the other days, his mother would take him to school or he would just catch the subway. This was a running gag for his friends, that Zhang Yixing would find every way there was to do charity.

“Thank you for your offer, but I think I’m good.”

“If that’s what you want,” Yixing shrugged. He was about to tuck his head back in when he remembered something. “Ah. I saw Joonmyeon on my way here. Just wait a minute or two, you guys might bump into each other.”

“It’s not ‘bump into each other’ if I wait for him, Yixing.” Yifan coughed lowly, “but thank you for the info.”

“No probs!” He replied, way too cheerily than it was deemed appropriate for an early morning. And with that, the taxi was quickly out of his sight.

Yifan worried his lower lip, grumbling an ‘a latte won’t hurt’ and steered his way to the nearest café.

He prayed with all his might that Do Kyungsoo wasn’t here already and promised himself to treat Sehun bubble tea and chocolate bars all he wanted if going to school this early was proven to be advantageous.

“Hello!”

Jongin looked down to find a sunbae (because he wore the silver pin on his collar) smiling at him and then not, but the corners of his mouth stayed up.

Jongin found the quirk adorable.

“Uh, I’m looking for Kim Joonmyeon sunbae or Baekhyun sunbae.”

“Neither is here. In fifteen minutes, you can try again. Oh, or you can wait inside, if you want.”

Jongin’s response was a quick and short ‘no’, inviting a curious gaze from the sunbae with Cheshire Cat lips.

“Should I ask Baba for a car?” Lu Han complained. His eyes focused on his tie, where a stranger on the subway had spilled his green juice on this morning.

Zitao gave him a wet tissue. “Are you even allowed to drive one?”

Lu Han sighed. “I’m lucky our tie is like this so the stain isn’t quite visible. And what’s with the anomaly, Taozi? We’re too early.”

“I need to submit my name for basketball team. The announcement said today, at 6.30, is the last chance. They don’t have a wushu club here.”

Lu Han rolled his eyes at his cousin’s stupidity. “Of course they don’t.”

They walked in comfortable silence for solid five minutes, save from shoulders bumps (and giggles) every now and then like the little boys they were, before Lu Han broke the serenity.

“How was your little mission on bringing a smile to that brat’s poker face?”

A bump on shoulder.

“Taozi.”

Another bump, but a bit harder. He was still met with no words.

“Taotao! Oi!”

“It went like , okay!” Zitao cried. “It went exactly the way I didn’t want it to be.”

Lu Han walked a step ahead and peered at his cousin’s face which was now a bit red, whether it was because of the chilly morning or something else, he didn’t know.

“I’m sorry. What happened?”

“He thought I was bragging and showing off the fact about us being related and how that gave me a leeway.”

“Wow, that was harsh.” Lu Han pondered.

“Mm-hm.”

“And rude.”

“Mm-hm.”

“So, are you giving up?”

“I don’t even know why I tried, ge.”

“Maybe because you were intrigued by him? Or maybe because our little peach was having a crush on his new friend?”

Zitao shoved his cousin out of his way. “Shut up,” he barked. Lu Han laughed his patented chime-like laugh and hugged Zitao’s arm.

“What’s his name again?” Lu Han asked.

“Sehun. Oh Sehun.”

“Tall, slim, and wears MCM backpack, no?”

“Yes—wait. Nobody asked you to know the details.”

“Easy, Lover Boy. I also happen know he wears a pair of red Air Jordan.”

Zitao shrugged off the hands that were hugging his arm and looked at his cousin accusingly. “Are you having a crush on him?”

Lu Han snorted. “No, I’m just watching him.” And then he gestured at the direction of Sooman High school gates where, of course, Oh Sehun was standing with his default blank expression. His stance betrayed nothing. He looked relaxed and apathetic to his surroundings.

He, however, straightened his back when he caught the sight of Lu Han and Zitao.

“I’ll see you later,” Lu Han patted Zitao’s and gave him a wink.

Mortified, Zitao could only see him do a sprint to get away from them both. He walked a bit and met Oh Sehun eye to eye.

“Hi,” Sehun greeted first. His voice was exactly like how Zitao remembered; low and soft.

“Uh, hi.” Zitao smiled. “Are you, uh, I mean you’re not gonna go in?”

“Not really. I wanted to meet you first.”

Zitao eyed the bubble tea in Sehun’s hand questioningly. It looked like it wasn’t cool anymore. “How long have you been standing here?”

Sehun scratched the back of his head. “Twenty minutes, maybe.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I wanted—I want to apologise for my y behavior yesterday. I have no excuse. I’m sorry.” Then he shifted on his feet unsurely before he the bubble tea to Zitao. “Here.”

Zitao blinked. “What is this?”

“Bubble tea, the tastiest one I’ve ever tasted and believe me, I’ve tried dozens of them.”

Slowly, Zitao took the chocolate beverage and looked at Sehun questioningly.

“I’m sorry; it probably tastes weird by now. I didn’t know what time you would arrive at school.”

“What time did you get here, again?” Zitao asked again. There was a fluttering feeling inside his ribcage and it was thrilling.

“Around 6.30. I’m—uh, I’m sorry. I don’t even know if you drink bubble tea.”

Who cares, Zitao screamed internally, who cares if I drink this juvenile thing or not. He didn’t even care that there was a rather thick water surface above the chocolate concoction, signaling that the ice bricks were slowly melting and ruined the whole flavor.

“I think I’ll start to now.” Zitao grinned. His heart did this complicated somersault again when he caught the faint blush on Sehun’s alabaster cheeks.

“Yeah. Okay. Uh, whataver.”

Yifan checked himself with the front camera of his smartphone after he made sure nothing was wrong with his shirt, tie, blazer, and hair, he loudly cleared his throat and strutted toward the café’s door. He closed his eyes dramatically and inhaled deeply.

“Oh? Joonmyeon-ah?” Yifan widened his eyes at the sight of the student council President. The aforementioned president, however, didn’t even spare him a glance for more than a split second.

“Morning, Yifan,” he briskly walked past him.

“What? That is all?”

“What, do you want me throw confetti at you or something equally as grand?”

“Uh, that wouldn’t be so bad.”

Joonmyeon glared at him.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? After two years, this was the first time we bumped into each other? I mean, we live in Cheongdam-dong and Apgu, it was bound to happen anyway.” Yifan casually sipped his latte while he was studying Joonmyeon carefully from his peripheral vision.

“You sure that wasn’t because you intentionally waited inside the coffee shop?”

Yifan nearly choked on his drink and Joonmyeon tsk-ed disapprovingly.

“Drink slowly, Yifan. Or you can wait until we arrive so you don’t have to drink while you’re walking. It’s dangerous.”

He didn’t know what to say or do other than openly ogled at Joonmyeon with hearts in his eyes.

“So, can I walk with you?” Yifan asked tentatively.

Joonmyeon shrugged. “What, is this street owned by my family now?”

Baekhyun watched in annoyance as Chanyeol copied his homework, again. He wondered at the reversal of positions in this current event; wasn’t Chanyeol supposed to be the smarter one? Wasn’t he the boy who only needed an hour to reread notes before exams while Baekhyun would need a night?

“Didn’t you do the problem #11 incorrectly? You shouldn’t put the negative in here,” Chanyeol pointed out.

“Well then fix it,” Baekhyun deadpanned.

Chanyeol did what he was told wordlessly.

Minutes had passed in silence before Chanyeol opened his mouth again.

“You must be very sleepy, Baekhyunnie. Square root of 324 is 18, not 16. The whole solution is wrong.” He grabbed an eraser and started to rewrite the answer—on Baekhyun’s book. Baekhyun felt his heart melt a little because of it.

“You noticed this has happened like, four times in a row.”

“You doing the wrong calculation?”

“You copying my homework. What have you been doing, Chanyeol? You can’t keep being like this. In a normal, perfectly make sense universe, I should have been the one copying yours.”

Chanyeol’s writing pace slowed down a bit. “I’ve been practicing for a festival a month from now.”

Baekhyun honestly hoped Chanyeol would change the subject by asking something back or just outright refuse to answer him. He didn’t want to hear his excuse.

His lies.

He didn’t tell Chanyeol he met his band mates last night, queuing in front of him and torn between watching Kingsman: The Secret Service of Fifty Shades of Grey. He didn’t tell Chanyeol he went to his family restaurant for a dinner only to be told that Chanyeol were out, God knows where. He also didn’t tell Chanyeol he spotted him eating ice cream in a parlor in Hongdae—holding hands with a girl whose face Baekhyun never saw.

“Don’t tire yourself out,” instead he said.

It was safe to say that this has been quite an eventful morning for Kim Joonmyeon. First, Yifan walked with him all the way to school, which was enough to start a not-so-small commotion among the student population. Then there was Zitao, asking him if he could start working with Sehun when the first, official meeting was in a few days and there was no need to steal a start (though he wondered, why brought Oh Sehun’s name?). There was also Lu Han who whined and nagged at him to find a spare necktie because his smelled awfully like broccoli.

“What’s your name again?”

It was the first time Joonmyeon met him; a tall boy with face of a model and timid manner.

“Kim Jongin from class 1-B.”

Something clicked inside his head. “Oh, I’m glad to finally meet you.”

As it turned out, Jongin requested for his name to be taken out from the newest lists of Thunder Herald crew because he didn’t think he would ‘suit the job and his to-be coworker’.

“Don’t listen to Kyungsoo’s words.”

As if on cue, Do Kyungsoo barged into editor-in-chief’s room, not even knocking beforehand, and stared coldly at the sight of Jongin. Jongin looked back, face devoid of emotions. Joonmyeon witnessed the whole thing before sighed in resignation.

“It’s good that you’re here also, Kim Jongin.” Kim Jongin, not Kim Jongin-sshi. Jongin really wanted to pick him by the back of his collar and throw him into Han River.

“Can’t say the same about you,” he replied.

Kyungsoo pretended he didn’t hear it, or that was how it looked like to Joonmyeon. Instead, Kyungsoo now directed his gaze towards the sunbae in the room.

“Don’t give me a partner, hyung. I didn’t ask you to.”

“I’ll act like I’m not offended over the insinuation that I do what my subordinates, you, tell me to. Every team here has two or even three members, Kyungsoo. I don’t see why it’s a problem.”

“It's only taking pictures and picking the best of them. I can do that by myself.”

“They were average, at best.” Jongin cut in before hurriedly cover his mouth with his hands.

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

Jongin’s eyes were searching for Joonmyeon’s but they were looking at him, too; seemingly asked him to elaborate his judgment.

“I mean, they were good—“

“So I you're saying I heard wrong—“

“But they weren’t enough to make the readers crave for the food or desperately want to try the recipes themselves. The pictures you’ve been taking—they were pretty but that’s just about it. They were ‘empty’.”

Whoa, Kim Jongin, he gulped. He had succeeded in making himself looked like a fool; one with stupid mouth and inconsiderate mind. The room somehow felt colder tenfold with all eyes on him and the absence of sound.

But as Jongin replayed his own words in his head, he realised that it was true. Jongin never really saw the female students went crazy over Do Kyungsoo’s column and he applauded Sehun for his made-up lie to Baekhyun hyung in the interview. He also didn’t drool or feel a sudden hunger when he checked out his column yesterday for the first time.

“Have your mother ever taught you how to use your tongue?”

“Yes, and she taught me to always tell the truth,” Jongin shot back without missing a beat.

“Truth? You don’t know anything about what I do, Kim Jongin.”

“Judging by the quality of the photos, do you even love what you do?”

Kyungsoo looked like he was just slapped in the face. Sensing that everything was about to go derailed, Joonmyeon’s hand rose.

“Enough, you guys. Jongin, I have to refuse your request. You’ll be working with Kyungsoo and Kyungsoo, you won’t be against my order because frankly, I’m the boss here. I know what I’m doing. Just stick to create recipes and bring them into life, Kyungsoo. We’ll see how it goes in several months. As a matter of fact, there has been a survey that you would have known had you pay attention. Your column wasn’t in the best five picked by the readers. In fact, it was in the bottom three. If this went much longer, we’d have to remove it.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t want to, but that’s different.”

For the last time, Kyungsoo’s eyes met Joonmyeon’s and finally Jongin’s before he bolted out.

It was only 7 and Joonmyeon already felt so tired. He massaged the bridge of his nose and noticed that Jongin was still in the room.

“I’m sorry this had to happened, Jongin-ah.”

Jongin only nodded helplessly.

I wonder why no one asked about Minseok's dream in issue #3 and if you would question how Kyungsoo reacted to Jongin's words. Also, thank you for leaving very nice comments and subscribing :')