Jongin cringed when the hot liquid streamed into his mouth, no doubt scorching the taste buds on the tip of his tongue. Great. Now he wouldn’t be able to taste the pistachio muffin that sat on the plate in front him. Oh well. He could always wrap it up and put it in his bag for later. 

He was trying to figure out why he’d brought a book to this sparsely lit cafe, knowing well that he would barely be able to see. Maybe he just wanted to look smart. He’d just gotten some new glasses (plano lenses of course), so he’d taken a shower in the middle of the day, styled his hair and dressed in black slacks and a grey button up shirt. 

All for his new glasses.

He was a dork and kind of lame. But he knew that already. 

Jongin scoffed at himself and squinted at his book, making an attempt to read, barely able to make out the words on the page. When the opening chords of a song started pouring through the cafe, Jongin’s head shot up and he stared at the stage at the very front of the cafe.

Under a single, bright spotlight, a guy sat on a tall stool with an acoustic guitar in his lap. He tried to stifle a laugh because the man’s guitar was almost as big he was, the large instrument almost swallowing his small stature.

He strummed a few more chords, then he started to sing. 

Is this the end?

Why does it feel

His voice was so rich and deep that the words washed over Jongin. The man stared into the crowd, probably unable to see anything further than the closest table to the stage.

like we’d only just begun?

I thought we were done.

Even though it was in English, Jongin felt like he understood. He felt the emotion stirring up in his gut and settling like a pit in the middle of his throat.

I think I’ll hang on.

If you still want me?

But if you don’t

I guess I’ll move on.

The time between the second and third line had Jongin’s face heating up, signalling that his eyes were about to water. Something about this man’s singing was bringing such a reaction out of him, and it was weirding him out.

It was like he felt this man’s pain. The pain of being casted away and forgotten, left to linger in whatever feelings were left behind.

And if you need me
Close your eyes and dream
I'll give you back your key

Jongin had only dated a few people in the past: a girl from his high school named Krystal, someone from his dance class in college named Taemin and his only long term relationship with an older man named Joonmyun.

But will you be happy?
Will you be happy?

Krystal only wanted someone to hang out with when she was bored, so when they graduated from high school they slowly drifted apart and broke up soon after. Taemin was his first boyfriend and that in itself was interesting, though not much changed from dating Krystal. They went on dates, they hung out, had , talked, though Taemin also liked to dance and play the same games. 

Said we'll leave it alone
But I wont be here long

Jongin dated Joonmyun for almost five years. They lived together and everything and as a matter of fact, the place where Jongin still lived, had been somewhat of a parting gift from Joonmyun.

The song was really doing a number on Jongin’s feelings, making him remember the last time he saw Joonmyun. The man had told him in so many words that he was getting married and that they couldn’t be together any longer. 

And when I'm gone
I guess then we'll know

It’d hurt like hell and even now when Jongin found himself sitting down in the large condo, a tight feeling would rise in his chest, threatening to swallow him whole. Sometimes it passed after a few seconds. Sometimes Jongin had to take a few deep breaths and go lie down. 

I think I’ll hang on

If you still want me

Already three years had passed since then and Jongin hadn’t really been too active on the dating scene, preferring to sit at home and read his books or practice a new routine he could teach his students.

Now a dance teacher at a nearby studio, he taught jazz to children and seniors and enjoyed every minute of it. As if the world hated him being satisfied, he’d gained a new student and when he saw the little girl, his heart dropped into his stomach. Standing in her black leotard with a tight bun and jazz shoes was a little girl who looked much like Joonmyun. 

The woman with her had introduced herself as Mrs. Kim and Jongin had nodded, going ahead and teaching his class with as much enthusiasm as he could manage, his eyes shooting to the girl periodically during the class. When it was over, Jongin tried to absorb himself into a book he was reading, but failed when he saw Joonmyun walk through the dance room door, dressed in a suit. Just as he’d thought, the little girl ran to him and he lifted her with ease, asking her about her day. 

It all hurt and it felt like he’d swallowed glass, but he got up and greeted the parents as he always did. Despite his false front, when Joonmyun met his eyes and recognized him despite the fact that his hair was much shorter and blonder than it’d been when they’d last seen each other, he gave him a small smile. Beyond that fleeting moment of recognition, Joonmyun just bowed shallowly, holding his daughter and thanking Jongin for teaching her. 

The whole instance was surreal but Jongin had gotten through it. 

The way he’d looked at him was warm, but still cold. It made him seem like he’d been holding on to something that wasn’t going to come back. 

But if you don’t

I guess I’ll move on 

I guess I’ll move on

I guess I’ll move on 

Jongin looked up from his book, the open page damp with a few tears he didn’t even know he’d shed and watched as the man on stage played the closing chords, his voice lowering in volume. 

From the dewy look in his eyes, Jongin knew the man had gone through something himself and this song was an outlet of a sort. He wiped at his face with the sleeve of shirt and when the song ended, he stood up and clapped. A few people joined him after, the short man getting down from his stool and sitting down his guitar to bow. 

The man had barely gotten off the stage before Jongin found himself walking towards him, his bag on his shoulder (the muffin tucked away safely). “Umm excuse me?” the man turned around with a confused look on his face. When he saw Jongin, he smiled. “That song you sung was amazing and I was wondering if you had some time to talk with me? Also I didn’t quite catch your name?” 

“Do Kyungsoo and sure,” Kyungsoo looked at Jongin’s flushed face under the dim lights and frowned “have you been crying?” Jongin nodded and ran his hand through his hair. “Kinda of, your song really got to me,” he tried to answer with a chuckle to seem cool, but he was sure he just looked strange. 

“Well I’m glad someone felt it. It used to be a hard song for me to sing, but I’m moving on. How about we sit here? I know the barista and she gives me free drinks sometimes, so if we sit here, she can give us drinks on the low,” Kyungsoo suggested, pointing to a secluded booth. 

As promised the waitress gave them two cups of hot tea, green for Kyungsoo and darjeeling for Jongin. 

“You know, you’re kind of attractive...” Kyungsoo stopped and stared expectantly at Jongin. “Ah, Jongin and thank you. You’re not so bad yourself. Your singing is amazing too.”