The old wooden door creaks noisily as Namjoon lightly pushes it open. As usual, he finds Jin sitting on the sidewalk, a lighted cigarette between his fingers, his wide shoulder slouch, his eyes empty and tired.

It takes Namjoon just two days to realize the giggly, radiant and charismatic barista behind the counter is but just a mask, something Jin wears for his profession and slips off his face whenever he takes his daily puff at the back of the café. Namjoon sits down next to his hyung.

Jin plays with the pebble at his foot, his expression cold and unreadable, his eyes not meeting Namjoon’s and his long fingers tangled in his hair.

“Say it” Jin breaks the silence.

“Huh?”

“You want to ask something so stop staring and just say it already.”

“What is your story, hyung?” Namjoon asks.

“Story?” and Jin replies with a confused look.

“Everyone here has a story, a reason why they waste their youth working here for extra cash. I want to know yours.”

Jin stares at Namjoon in disbelief, as if nobody has ever asked such question before, as if no one has tried to looked further than his skin-deep facade of happiness.

And his story starts with a sad chuckle.

When his peers were still preoccupied with mangas and computer games and afternoon soccer matches, Jin already figured out where his passion lies. The 14-year-old Jin would lock himself in his room; spend hours watching every single classic movie in his father’s collection and subconsciously read out the lines himself. Two years later, he broke into tears in front of the whole school population as they gave him a resounding standing ovation for his delivery of Macbeth.

Everyone, including Jin, knew that he had the talent and the passion it took to pursue his dream in acting, everyone, except his parents. They were determined that the industry is too harsh and Jin wouldn’t last a day, he would have nothing to feed himself but regrets.

So the younger son of the Kim family broke through the cage that stopped him from flying. He packed his things and walked out of the door, believing in a bright future blessed with fame and success. But how wrong he was and how right were his parents.

In the industry, he is but just another pretty face among countless others, all wanting to have a shot at their dream job. He knows no one in the industry, nobody with good connections who can help him land even just an extra role. He applied for several movies and dramas, but no casting director bothered to even bat an eyelash at Jin, simply because his application came without an envelope.

So he has been drifting between odd jobs, watching hopelessly as the harsh life erodes away the liveliness in his eyes and the warmth in his blood. The only thing he was able to hold on to was the confident knowledge about where his passion lies. Jin knows he will never go back. But going forward… he is still unable to.

Jin squashes the cigarette’s with the bottom of his shoe and watches silently as the fire burns out.

“How do you do it?” Namjoon asks “How are you able to wear that smile and act all cheerful out there at the counter? How are you even able to hold that up without faltering?”

Jin looks straight into the younger’s eyes.

“Do you see that little kid, Jimin? He came all the way here, from Busan, alone, because he wants to dance. Every day, after his job here is done he will go straight to the dance studio, practices until his legs give in. All the money he earns here, he spends everything on dance classes, until the very last cent. And Taehyung? I don’t even know how many part-time jobs he has. He works his off so he can send money back to his dongsaengs at home. He barely has time to sleep, that’s why he always sneaks out for naps.” Jin pauses for a second, before continuing “Look at them and ask yourself if you actually got the shorter end of the stick.”

Namjoon quiets at the question. Something heavy tugs at his chest. Guilt, maybe.

“This, this face” Jin points at his own trouble-filled eyes “this is self-pity. And that is something I keep to myself. The customers come here to look for someone who cheers them up, who can give them breaks from sneering looks at school and nagging at home, who actually appreciates their presence. And that is who I will be.”

Namjoon stares at Jin, at the pretty face who has just evolved into everything else, a complex myriad of broken dreams, lost hope and strength, and he is simply too overwhelmed to figure out the appropriate things to say. He only knows that he likes this Jin more, so much more, than the mask he wears.

“Teach me, hyung.”

“What?”

“Please teach me how to do it. I want to do it well too!”

*

Namjoon has always been a fast learner, and Jin is nothing less than a good teacher. Less than two weeks into the job and every frequent customer of the café knows his name. He doesn’t have that chocolate grin like Jimin, or that silly charm Taehyung is born with. But he knows. He knows when to slightly bite his lip, when to brush his hand through his gelled-back hair, and when to work his ‘dimpled’ smile. At one point, Namjoon even wonders if he is talented in this.

But Jin is always there to keep his feet firmly on the ground, telling him not to get carried away and to remember what he is doing this job for in the first place. Slowly, Jin begins to share his cigarettes with Namjoon, and the later starts to stay back to help his hyung close the café.

Namjoon tells him about his own run-away-from-home story and Jin cracks up, slapping the table and half-crying, because oh please your parents live two blocks away from you and you still go home every weekend to get clean clothes.

Now and then, Jin will ask Namjoon to help him practice for the new casting coming up, and Namjoon will let Jin listen to his new track, the golden chance he has to laugh at his hyung, who can never nod his head on beat.

“How did the casting go? You know, the extra role in that movie?”

“Nope. The director’s secretary’s nephew got it.” Jin shakes his head.

“Their loss, really.” Namjoon mutters.

“And how would you know that?” Jin chuckles “You have never seen me act!”

“Oh, no. I see you act every day.”

They know so little about what the other does, but at the same time, Namjoon thinks they already know enough.

*

“So, how has it been, the barista job?” Hoseok asks as his housemate kicks his shoes off.

“Er… good. Tiring, but good.”

“You come back later recently.”

“I realized it is actually a good place to write lyrics.”

Namjoon lies down on the couch when Hoseok shoves something into his face.

“Read this!”

Namjoon throws a confused look at Hoseok as he straightens out the piece of crumpled paper he gets from his friend. His eyes widen as they scan the bold title written across the center of the leaflet.

“Huh? Huh? Isn’t this great?” Hoseok excitedly nudges his friend for a reaction.

“Great? THIS IS FREAKING AMAZING JUNG HOSEOK!” Namjoon jumps up from his seat. “If I win this they will give me fully sponsored exchange programme to the States! For two freaking years! THIS.IS.DOPE.!!!!”

“Hahahaha didn’t I tell you? I AM YOUR HOPE, KIM NAM JOON! I AM HOPE! HAHAHAHA”

Namjoon ignores his hyped up friend. His mind is already starting to draw up the lyrics for the Hip Hop competition. Isn’t it perfect that he gets fresh inspiration recently?

-end of chapter 2-