There are a hundred and one reasons. Reasons why I love you. Reasons why I want to live. Reasons why I should be nothing to you. The list grows every single day but, right now, there are a hundred and one reasons. Reasons why we were never supposed to meet. Reasons why we were never supposed to fall in love. Reasons why I left. There are a hundred and one reasons why you should despise me. But why don’t you?

Why don’t you curse my soul to eternal damnation? Why don’t you spit on my name? Why don’t you wish that you had never met me? Why do you insist on loving me? Why do you give me such love and tender care when I don’t deserve it? Why do you stay and cut yourself with the bitter blade that is my love?

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Kim Jinwoo – New York – Day 1

The scent of roasted coffee beans and the sound of milk being frothed, it was all art, fascinating art, to Kim Jinwoo. He sat in front of the counter, watching the employees work like a well-oiled espresso machine. They all knew well the others were and what they were doing without any verbal communication or even a glance to their sides. He took a quick look at the notebook under his nose and jotted down messy notes.

It was his dream to become a barista at his own café, which was nothing but dream at the moment. His innocent eyes tried to focus on the art that the New Yorkers created in these small cups but it was too much to take in. People beside him were calling out orders the employees moved around as if they were teleporting. One barista was standing by the espresso machine and in a second they were on the other end of the counter, handing a different order to a leaving customer.

Oh how he would have loved to move just as they did. He desired to glide ever so gracefully as if he were dancing. But he would have to sit and watch for the time being. He would have to sit behind the counter and listen to the bell above the door jingle and people call out all sorts of drinks. He would have to watch others with great experience hand out piping hot cups to customers of all shapes and sizes.

“Pick up! Plain waffle with whipped cream, strawberries on the side, and an Americano to go!”

Jinwoo caught a glimpse of the customer picking up an order and his eyes followed her twice. Never in his life had he seen such a customer. Wrapped up in a cozy and long black coat with an ivory scarf keeping her neck warm from the cold winter snow, Jinwoo couldn’t take his eyes off of the stranger. Her rosy pink cheeks stood out from the pale skin. Her long dark brown hair framed her face and shoulders and to Jinwoo, she looked too perfect to be human.

He watched her quietly push through the large crowd as her hand was stretched out, searching for the door. Hopefully, she would come back and order a plain waffle with whipped cream, strawberries on the side and an Americano tomorrow but stay to eat. Maybe she could even sit next to him and chat a little. He didn’t care if there would be a language barrier, he just wanted her to come back.

Lee Seunghoon – New York – Day 1

The streets of New York were just as he had imagined. There were people walking about even on this snowy day. It seemed so romantic like in the movies and shows he had watched. Maybe he could catch his big break on the streets. With the thought of just a possibility, he tightened his grip on the strap across his chest and pulled his guitar closer to his back.

He was just a young man with a dream that seemed so close yet seemed so far. With the money he saved up, he flew to New York with his guitar to make his dream come true. But at the same time, he had no idea as to why he was walking around on foreign land. If he couldn’t get famous in homeland, what made him think he could get scouted in a different country that had no idea he existed? He didn’t know if he was here to become a famous singer and guitarist or just figure out that he has to give up a dream that was impossible to grasp let alone touch with his fingertips.

There were people sitting on benches on cold winter days, singing and playing on instruments they made or bough. Seunghoon ignored his competition and kept walking. He wasn’t insane enough to sit down outside while snow covered his body and the rest of New York. The sun wasn’t visible but he could see that it was getting darker. Maybe it was nearing nighttime.

The scent of coffee drifted over to him and danced around his shivering body. He looked to his left and spotted a café with an antique feel. It seemed like one of those places where he could schedule a gig or two. He walked in, brushing the flaky snow off of his shoulders and body. With broken English on the tip of his tongue, he received permission to set up his little stage near the counter but away from the long line.

Carefully, he tuned his acoustic guitar and strummed a few notes of the song he was getting ready to sing. When he was ready, he looked around the coffee shop and saw that it was already clearing out. There were enough people sipping their coffee and sitting around a few tables here and there. There was a man sitting at the counter with a dazed and dreamy look on his face and a pencil in his hand. And there was a girl sitting at a table a couple of feet away from him, relaxed with a warm cup of coffee in her hands. Her sole attention was on him. There was a soft and expectant smile on her small and pretty face. Her fiery red-orange hair contrasted her gentle expression.

For the first time in forever, he was nervous to play. For some reason he was certain that he would make a mistake in front of the pretty stranger. But nonetheless, he cleared his throat and began to perform. The song, Better Together by Jack Johnson, seemed perfect to him. His eyes moved around the café but his mind was on the stranger, who was the only person actually paying attention to his performance.

When he strummed the last chord, he looked to the stranger once more and all she did was smile. Then, she got up and left. Seunghoon marched up to the counter and clumsily asked if he could perform again the next day and the owner made him a better deal. He was hired to play whenever he wanted. With a heart beating against his ribcage and one problem solved, he ordered a cup of coffee and took a seat in the same chair that the warm stranger was sitting in. He hoped that she would come back to watch him perform every day.

Song Mino – New York – Day 1

He was frustrated if that was even the right word to describe his feelings. He had been sitting in the café since it opened and he was still there as closing time was nearing. In front of him was a blank word document. The type cursor was blinking and it seemed to be mocking him. He didn’t understand why he suddenly couldn’t think of any words to type. He was an author-in-training. He was always supposed to have words to flow through his fingers. But why couldn’t he think of a word to begin his new draft?

Looking around, there wasn’t much to inspire him. There was a man sitting at the counter who he had seen since morning. A man with a guitar next to him was sitting by the window. A few other Asian men were scattered around the café and that had surprised him. He hadn’t expected to see so many in New York. And then there was a being that contained a million stories sitting a few tables away from him.

She had long black hair and she was wearing enough to keep her warm but not enough to cover her scars. Her arms were riddled with them. She had eyes of a tortured soul. And yet she made an effort to make her way to the café. She looked frail even though she was eating a piece of fattening cake. She didn’t seem to care if people pointed at her and whispered rude comments about her scars.

And he wondered. Why did such a pretty girl have so many scars that others could see and couldn’t see? What was going on in her life that made her want to harm herself? And why did he want to take it all away? With those questions swirling in his brilliant mind, his fingers floated around the keyboard. He gave her a backstory. He visualized the present. And he brainstormed a future for her.

Mino couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He didn’t care if he made spelling errors. All he cared about was the story that this stranger couldn’t tell. She was his inspiration. He wrote her story and he knew that she was the best thing that could have happened to him. And when she got up to put on her warm coat and walk out of the door, he knew that he needed to see her again. He needed to see her story, her life.

He was going to wait at the café and wait for her to return. He was going to make sure her future would become a fairytale. And he was going to protect from the battle that she was fighting. He was going to make sure she would never be scarred again.

Kang Seungyoon – New York – Day 1

He didn’t peel his eyes away from the book in front of him. It didn’t matter if the café was bustling and buzzing. He couldn’t hear it, he couldn’t afford a distraction. He needed to satisfy his craving for a trip to the museum. But he couldn’t just go. He needed to plan it all out. Which exhibit would he visit first? What would he want to learn first about the great state of New York? This trip needed to be perfect. He didn’t come to a new place to learn nothing.

He needed to know everything about this place. He would figure out the history of the café he was sitting in just to get a fix. History was his drug. There were secrets. There were idiotic stories to listen to. It was just a wondrous subject. And he couldn’t get distracted. If he got distracted, there was no telling what he could miss.

But sitting in a popular café, there was bound to be many distractions. There was one distraction he didn’t mind: a pretty girl who looked like she was angry at the world. She wore dark clothes and she happened to be sitting at the table right next to him. She had caught his attention the moment he walked in with a pile of books and pamphlets. She was sitting there with a piping hot cup of black coffee, reading a book. She asked for refills every now and then but that was the only human interaction she had.

As he flipped through a book about New York’s infamous gangs, his mind naturally wandered off to the girl sitting next to him. If he could muster up enough courage, he would even glance to his right as if to check if she was still there. Her long light purple hair and round Harry Potter-like glasses and every other aspect of her were distractions. She rarely made any noise but her beauty was enough to take his eyes off of the historical facts printed on the old paper.

She looked like she was Korean or maybe not. From one glance, one would assume she was a disappointment to her Asian parents but to Seungyoon, she was perfection. He wanted to know her history. Maybe it was interesting or maybe it was predictable. It didn’t matter. But he wanted to know. Before he could embarrassingly ask her anything, she wrapped her black wool knit scarf around her slender neck and left.

The sound of the bell above the wooden door echoed in his ears. Maybe she would come back the next day with a different book and a different dark outfit. But maybe her hair would stay the same and she would order the same thing and ask for refills. Maybe he could sit next to her and let her distract him without even trying. That was what he hoped for.

Nam Taehyun – New York – Day 1

He had been sitting there for hours, perfecting one sketch on the same napkin. His eyes looked up at the stranger with sandy brown hair that stopped at her slim waist and his eyes would travel down to the napkin in front of him. It was a pattern that he couldn’t break. The inky pen in his hand didn’t stop moving. He couldn’t help but do the sketch justice. She was more than beautiful. She was his muse now. He felt all kinds of emotions push their way into his frigid heart the moment he laid his eyes on her. He felt joy just looking at her beauty. He felt sorrow with one glimpse of her eyes. He felt anger when he saw the red handprint on her milky white cheeks. He felt it all.

His pen captured her dark eyes that almost seemed black, her small button nose, her defined cheekbones, her not-too-dark and not-too-light eyebrows, her plump and small pink lips, her wavy and shiny hair. He wouldn’t stop looking at her until the sketch was a mirror image of her.

When the napkin was no longer a napkin but a mirror, he put his pen down and just stared at her. His heart broke a little when he was tears threatening to roll down from her soulful eyes. Who had hurt her so bad? That was what he wanted to know. She looked so innocent and harmless. What could she have done to receive such a harsh and painful punishment? Taehyun wanted to sit across from her and hand her his handkerchief but he was an introvert.

He couldn’t gather up the courage to confront such a wonderful masterpiece. She was living, breathing art. No other piece of art, no painting, no sketch, no sculpture, no nothing could compare to the beauty sitting at the table across from him.

New York was filled with wondrous art, he knew that. That was why he was there. But he didn’t know that New York housed his muse. His muse that was fearfully looking at her cell phone. His muse that scrambled to get her coat and scarf on. His muse that ran out of the café’s door as if a monster were chasing her. His muse that he hoped to see tomorrow at the café again.

New York – Ending of Day 1

As the café began to get ready to close, only five people remained: a hopeless barista, a confused musician, an aspiring author, a history fanatic, and an art lunatic. These five people sat at different tables at different corners of the café with a cup of cooled coffee in front of them. It was only their first day in New York and it felt, to them, as though they had gone through so much. There was a girl falling asleep in a quiet apartment. There was a girl falling asleep with a book in her hands as soft music lulled her. There was a girl crying herself to sleep. There was a girl staying up with a different book in her hands and a bright lamp illuminating the black words. And there was a girl begging a man to stop while protecting a woman.

Those girls were their soulmates. They were strangers but at the same time they weren’t. Hopefully, they would all be at the café the next day and the day after that and the day after that.