Minwoo's POV:

"L.Joe this, L.Joe that, hey, I have an idea! Why don't L.Joe just go L.DIE?!" I shouted while getting the stupid drinks. I asked EunJi, not them. While I was bitterly talking to myself, I suddenly felt someone else's presence behind me. I turned around to see none other than that poodle head. "OH! Hi...L.Joe...I didn't mean you when I said L.Joe should...die. I meant this...other L.Joe..."  

"Um...yeah..." he awkwardly replied grabbing the bag beside my left foot. He glanced at me one last time before exiting the building.

Wait- they're leaving?! What am I going to do with six beverages? I know they're not going into my bladder, that's for sure. How did I get stuck with this job anyway?

"Hi, I'm the one who wanted the Shirley Temple." the lead vocal of Teen Top approached, "Thank you. Hey, how did you know I love ice in my drinks? You must be a fan. I'd sign your arm right now, but I really have to go. Bye, and thanks again."

I just stared at him walk away sipping his drink. At least someone acknowledged my hard work...

"Minwoo-ah!" EunJi called, "Minwoo!"

"What is it?" I asked with a smile. She always brings my mood up.

"Thank you so much!" She thanked wrapping her arms around my neck. "If you haven't brought me to this concert, I wouldn't be so content right now!"

I wrapped my arms around her waist, returning her embrace. She smelled...good. It was no doubt the scent of a flower, but which one? My train of thought was disrupted when she started to pull away. I let go of her, even though I really didn't want to. I didn't want the sweet moment to turn into an uncomfortable, never ending hug.

"Because you got backstage passes for us I was able to meet my all-time favourite celebrity." she continued, "Guess what happened?"

"What?"

"I said guess." she pouted. I had to urge to pinch her cheeks. She just looked so darn adorable.

"Um, he shook your hand?" I guessed.

"Nope." the grin was still stuck on her face. "Even better!"

"He gave you a hug?" It better not be anything more than a hug. He shouldn't be touching my girl in the beginning. Did he not heard of Boyfriend's single, "Don't Touch My Girl"?

"No." before I could try again she blurted out the answered, "HE GAVE ME HIS NUMBER!"

"...that's it?"

"What do you mean 'that's it'? I got his number." she stressed, "Why aren't you happy for me?"

"I'm just wondering why a star would willingly give a fan his number. You can't trust everyone in this world, they might tell their friends, on purpose, or accident. They might spam him as well. It might not even be his number."

"So, you think I'm a crazy, loud-mouth fan that is absolutely obsess with a celebrity." she asked raising a brow. 

"No! That's not what I meant. I'm just saying it's careless of him to do so." the frown was still stuck on her face. She's kind of intimidating right now. Why are girls automatically jumping to conclusions? You say they're taking a lot of room; they accuse you of calling them fat. You buy them perfume, they yell at you for implying they stink. "Well, I can't blame him for doing so. I'd give you my digits if I didn't know you." I sheepishly said.

"Wouldn't that make you careless?"

"I don't care. I'd take the consequence just for you. Now can we drop this subject please? There shouldn't be an argument over this." She nodded in agreement.

"Are you hungry?" she