As much as I enjoyed sipping a cup of caramel macchiato while watching people through the glass walls of the cafe, Park Chanyeol was just as delighted with his newly downloaded game. One moment, I would see his forehead creased and his hard set of jaw as he jabbed the screen of his phone with his thumbs. Next, his face would lighten up like a kid who just received the best birthday gift ever. He was too engrossed with the game to even touch his iced americano.

He finally looked away from his phone to me when mine rang, giving me a curious expression.

"Mom," is what I said rather than a hello to let Chanyeol know that the caller was my mother. He nodded, then resumed his game.

"Where are you? What are you doing?" Her voice sounded excited on the phone.

"I'm in Hongdae with Chanyeol. Why?"

"Oh," she beamed. "Tell him I said hi." Mom adored Chanyeol. He had always been her favorite among my friends. "Anyway, I need you to be home in two hours," she said, this time with authority. "Two hours, okay? Two hours." Then, she hung up before I could say something.

I had no idea why Mom demanded my presence, but I decided to go, anyway. "I have to go, dude," I told Chanyeol, then gulped what remained of my coffee as I stood up.

He looked up, confused. "Wait, what? How about the arcade?"

"Next time." I tapped his shoulder, then walked away toward the exit.

"Oh, come on!" He called after me.

I turned around before opening the doors, and saw him throw his arms up in the air in frustration. I chuckled at the gesture. "My mom said hi, by the way," I shouted back, then waved. He just rolled his eyes in response.

I walked a few turns on my way to the bus stop. I almost walked past a video store, but I remembered I was actually looking for a classic film.

I checked my wristwatch. I still had forty-five minutes before my bus came, so I decided to go in.

I went straight to the Classics section, and let my eyes feast on the abundance of films. I dismissed the idea of buying some just as quickly as I thought about it when I realized that I was short of money. I ran my hand through the films on display, then stopped at a title that seemed familiar. It's called Titanic. It's the digitally restored version. It's my mom's favorite movie. She has a copy of the old version at home, and I'd seen her watch it a thousand times, which means I'd seen her cry over it a thousand times, too. She used to sing the soundtrack over and over again at the kitchen, that somehow I found myself singing along with her sometimes. It's basically the first English song I learned.

My hand was one or two inches away when someone swatted it away, and grabbed the film the same time I jerked. 

"Got it," she announced in a triumphant tone.

I looked at her in disgust. "Excuse me, but I think I deserve to get that," I said, eyeing the film that was now in her arms.

"What, the swat?"

"The film," I replied, annoyed. "I would've had it if you did not swat my hand away. Which, by the way, you have not apologized for."

"Sorry about that," she said in the most insincere way possible. "But you know, the rule of the thumb here is whoever gets his hand first on an item gets the item." 

I was almost convinced, but there was no way I would waver. "Yeah, but you swatted my hand away, so it's not fair play. Now give it to me." I tried to snatch the film from her but she instinctively hid it in her back, and when I reached for it, I was so close to her it felt awkward.

"What do you think you're doing?" She said aloud, putting on a shocked face. I blinked a few times before I realized what she was trying to do. She was trying to make me look like a ert!

I straightened up, and when I looked around, everyone was looking at me in disgust. Some were whispering to one another. I repeatedly shook my hands, hoping it would clear the misunderstanding, but to no avail. 

A chubby man approached us. "What is happening here?" He asked. He introduced himself as a staff.

I glared at the girl as I tried to explain to the man what happened. She displayed a pitiful look, probably thinking that she can get away with it. What an actress! I was glad there was no sign that the man was giving in, either. He reached out his hand for the film. The girl handed it to him unwillingly.

The crowd finally lost interest, and left the three of us there. I was temporarily relieved. The man and the girl kept talking. I did not grasp much though because I was so anxious to leave to pay attention.

If  only we could end it right at the moment, I would happily walk away from that place. I was lost in thought that I was late to notice another girl joining us. Judging from her white skin and blonde hair and tall stature, she was an American. This. Long. Time. She talked so fast that I barely made sense out of a few words. I bet the man was in the same boat as me because he just nodded at every word she said. Then, she proceeded to the cashier. She had the film!

"Wait," I called after her, but she was too far to hear. "You gave it to the American?" I asked accusingly. My eyes darted to the man and the crazy girl.

"I did not know what to say," the man defended, then left.

"I'd rather the film go to someone else's hand than yours." The crazy girl rolled her eyes at me.

I stood there with my head low, thinking about how those unfortunate events will haunt me forever. I jerked back when the crazy girl spoke. I thought she was already gone. "She's British. How can you not tell a British from an American by the accent?" 

I was not sure if she was waiting for a reply, but I did not give it to her. I have had enough. I turned around instead, and walked out the door.