Seoul’s streets dwelled in its’ nightly stillness. Jongin’s eyes glance up at the moonless sky, and then revert back to the watch wrapped around his wrist. It’s currently 10:32 PM, so that means he’s only two minutes late.

            Good enough, he thinks to himself.

            Jongin stuffs both of his hands into his jacket and continues to walk along the narrow sidewalk. As he paces on, his eyes turn away from the glaring neon signs that fill the nighttime cityscape. Instead, they remain fixed on both of his feet.

            Right, left, right, left, he hums under his breath, following the pattern of his footsteps.

            The bar isn’t too far from his apartment building, so the walk shouldn’t take too long. Regardless, the phone in his jacket pocket continues to buzz repeatedly. Jongin groans at the thought of opening his phone and seeing hundreds of messages from Chanyeol who has very little patience for tardiness (possibly because he’s a middle school teacher). He doesn’t know how he became such close friends with him in the first place, what with their contrasting personalities – and yet, here he is, entering the bar that Chanyeol and he often spends time together in, gulping down one shot after another until they become a pair of guffawing, drunken twenty-something-year-olds.

            As expected, there aren’t too many people in the bar. Just a few regular customers here and there that he recognizes. Jongin’s eyes scan the dimly lit room in search of Chanyeol. When he finally spots him, he’s currently sitting on a barstool, chatting up a woman who Jongin notices is way, way older than him. Despite having been friends with him for a few years, he still thinks it’s weird how Chanyeol is highly attracted older women. 

            Chuckling to himself, Jongin surprises him by tapping his shoulder, causing him to spill Chanyeol’s drink all over the poor woman’s dress. Immediately, his best friend snaps out his suave demeanor when he sees Jongin and realizes what’s he’s done. Jongin couldn’t help but laugh, being the wonderful friend he was.

            “I am s-so, so sorry,” Chanyeol stammers nervously, gulping at the sight of the metaphorical steam emitting from the infuriated woman’s ears. “Here, I’ll help you—“

            “Don’t.” The woman replies as she glares at him, before grabbing her bag and exiting the bar, looking very much displeased. Chanyeol’s run out of the words, but Jongin is practically full of laughter.

            Chanyeol turns his head to his friend and Jongin’s still laughing heartily. “Damned it, Jongin. You scared the out of me.”

            “Sorry ‘bout that, hyung,” Jongin apologizes, after his roars of laughter came to a halt. “She’s way out of your league anyways.”

            “Something tells me that apology wasn’t very sincere,” Chanyeol’s looks at him with a disgruntled expression on his face. Instead of adding fuel to the fire, Jongin wraps an arm around his best friend, looking at him with an annoying grin plastered on his face.

            “Relax, hyung. I’m pretty sure there’ll be another older woman who’s willing to spend more than five seconds with you. Flirting is your expertise, after all.” He laughs again, before occupying the seat next to him.

            His best friend shoots an irritated look at him and lets out a sarcastic laugh to mock Jongin’s. “Sure, Nini,” – As the word escapes out of his mouth, Jongin physically winces at his best friend’s repulsive nickname for him – “Just wait until I see you flirting with a guy and then proceed to ruin your chances of taking him to your bed.”

            Now it’s Jongin’s turn to be annoyed, but he quickly brushes off whatever negative emotion he had and calls for the bartender to order a drink. He decides to start the night with a single shot, but as soon as he gets his order, Jongin immediately gulps it down within a blink of an eye.

            When he turns his head to his best friend who has remained eerily quiet for the past few minutes, he notices that Chanyeol’s eyes were fixated on a woman playing billiards alone in the corner of the room. 

            “You wanna join her, Yeollie?” Jongin says with a sly smirk.

            “Yeah, if you don’t mind,” he replies without even looking at him. “And it’s Chanyeol hyung to you.”

            Jongin simply rolls his eyes in response. “You really need to sort out your priorities, hyung. Have fun, anyways,” He doesn’t even realize that the barstool next to Jongin’s is already no longer occupied, as Chanyeol is already striding across the room with a single goal set in his mind: to get laid.

            Jongin doesn’t mind this. Being alone. He’s usually alone anyways, so he’s conditioned to the state of solitude. He orders another shot, and another one, and then another one until he feels fully intoxicated. The bar gradually gets busier as more and more people burst into the room.

            He notices every single one of them as they step through the entrance out of boredom, observing the smallest of details.

            A group of already-drunk college kids. A middle-aged man with eye bags that made him look like he has a dreadful case of insomnia. Two women in tight-fitting dresses and heavy make up caked on to their faces. A young-looking couple displaying their skillfulness in kissing and vigorous tonguing.

            He’s currently too tired and too drunk to while away the time by observing strangers, though. Jongin heaves a deep sigh and buries his head in his hands. He messes up his already-disheveled hair but he doesn’t give two s, since he just knows that he’s going to have an awful hangover tomorrow morning.

            The faint sounds of people talking and electronic music were suddenly interrupted by a harsh screech coming from a microphone. Jongin jerks up at the piercing sound and his eyes turn to the once empty stage now occupied by a young man dressed in all-black clothing and a black cap to go along with it. Even from a considerable distance, Jongin could discern his narrow shoulders and small figure, the tufts of black hair hidden by his hat, and the plump lips unshadowed by his cap.

            As soon as his eyes laid on him, Jongin couldn’t tear them away. The stranger lightly taps on the mic but fails to capture the attention of the people in the bar. Well, with the exception of Kim Jongin, clearly.

            The sound of a finger snaps begins to boom from the stage speakers, accompanied by what sounds like a light electronic tune.

A slow-moving, mellow beat came soon after, but never in his life did Jongin expected to hear something remotely similar to the voice that escaped the small singer’s mouth. The notes he sang into the microphone took him by such a surprise that Jongin jumped out of his chair to step towards the stage.

            There was an ethereal quality to his performance. To him. The narrow-shouldered singer standing on a small platform that you can barely a call a stage, basking in the yellow glow of the lights that hung high on the ceiling.

            Ethereal.

            This word remains in Jongin’s head as he carefully listened to the singer’s performance. To the perfectly sung notes. To the emotions he expressed through his vocals. The performance itself — it was enough to take Jongin’s breath away.

            And because of this, he couldn’t help but let his cheeks grow red hot. He began to grow a little nervous. A little excited. But most significantly –  a little curious.

            Jongin was curious to know more of the small-figured singer. To learn his every trait, every quirk there was to him. By the time the performance had ended, Jongin’s heart had practically leapt out of his chest.