Wonshik didn't really want to think too much about the finer details of his new apartment building as he moved in one painfully bright morning. It wasn't much of a place; more than a little in disrepair, with the remains of a (probably ridiculously glitzy for the eastern downtown in its time, anyway) neon sign still buzzing pathetically above its fogged-up foyer doors. Inside it didn't get much better, with the sodden grey walls suggesting permanent damp – not to mention the rust on things he was sure weren't supposed to get rusty - but it was nothing a broke creative arts student couldn't force himself to be satisfied with.

Of course, he hadn't really had to move out of his previous (more comfortable) lodgings, Wonshik mused, as he lugged his suitcase upstairs in the sticky heat. It was just polite really; Hakyeon had gotten himself a real-life girlfriend and now, suddenly, fiancée. With this revelation, there simply hadn't been enough space in their cramped apartment, nor within Hakyeon's limited emotional capabilities, for a best friend whom he had occasionally screwed on lonely nights, and who had possibly had more-than-best-friend feelings for him. In the end, Wonshik decided it was best not to carry on hanging around where he clearly wasn't wanted. 

Unfortunately, the ever-oblivious Hakyeon had somehow managed to avoid cluing in to a single scrap of the entire situation – in fact, he'd stood beside Wonshik as he pulled his belongings from the back of the car, his beautiful face twisted in a look of concern. “Are you sure you're ok with moving in here?” he'd asked, for probably the fiftieth time, “I mean, you know Minah and I don't mind if you stay, right?”

“It's fine, Hakyeon,” Wonshik had grumbled, again, “it was my choice; I don't want to get in the way of you two. Besides, I'm closer to the university here and,” he paused to swipe his silvery fringe back under his snapback before yanking a box of art supplies from its place under the front passenger seat, “I've heard this side of town has a lot of – ah – creative inspiration to offer.” And that was that; Hakyeon had once again shaken his gorgeous gold-and-ebony head, grinning at Wonshik's “goofy quirkiness” before tugging the other man into a tight hug, climbing back into his little old Hyundai and pulling away from the curb.

An hour later, following a lengthy self-introduction to the landlady (see: ancient old coot, the story-telling type), Wonshik finally set down the last box of his belongings in his tiny, grey-box apartment. It wasn't all that bad; studio, a cramped bathroom to the right of the door, and a small kitchenette, complete with a window looking out over the crumby eastern neighbourhood. He leaned against the sink for a moment to take in the bleak view. 

Another set of ugly- apartments sat next door, appearing to be just as grey as as this building. Beyond that, narrow grey alleyways filled with garbage branched out from the grey main street and... heck, even the people in this goddamn neighbourhood looked grey. But Wonshik smiled to himself as he looked out, spotting the bright colours of some hastily scribbled graffiti in one of the grey sidestreets. Yeah, this would do him just fine.

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The next few days went by rather quietly as Wonshik explored his new home and its surrounds. On the first day, after putting his small amount of possessions in their rightful places, he decided to go shopping, and discovered almost immediately that the little east-side neighbourhood wasn't nearly as dull as he'd first thought (albiet, still very grey). Aside from Wonshik's grey apartment building and the equally grey apartment building beside it, there was an all-purpose supermarket a short walking distance away, as well as a post office, a florist, a dentist, a liquor store, a rather pleasant park with a small (stagnant) pond, a couple of family dining places, a hairdresser's... and your standard, friendly, neighbourhood shop... of course. Lastly, there was a kitschy cafe a few doors down that sold fair-trade coffee and had a new kind of organic cake on display each day. Yup, all you could ever need.

Following the necessary stock-up on groceries – the urge to thank the heavens he already had a job and wouldn't have to apply at one of these run down places floating through his mind more than once – Wonshik decided to call into the coffee shop to grab a mid-morning caffienne fix. He was greeted warmly by the cafe's two baristas, Sungjae and Eunkwang, and a pretty waitress called Yura. He introduced himself to them in a proper, neighbourly way, ordered an Americano, and sat at a small table by the front window. 

Just as Wonshik had made himself comfortable in one of the artsy armchairs, the door opened once more, letting a crisp breath of dimples and sharp eyes drift into the stuffy cafe. He eyed the newcomer – neatly styled, with the features of a model - and was quietly glad for guy's neutral expression, for the sake of everyone who might be fortunate enough to set eyes on such a godly being. The new customer greeted the baristas with a nod before casting a glance over the small establishment. Surprisingly, his eyes settled, with a slight glimmer of recognition, on Wonshik.

“Hey,” said the stranger, striding towards him, “Wonshik, right? You moved into the apartments next door yesterday? I'm Hongbin, it's nice to meet you.” 

He vaguely registered a hand outstretched towards him as he was abruptly facing the lethal, dimpled smile he'd just seconds ago dreaded. “Uh... have we met before?” he asked, although he was rather doubtful he would've forgotten such a face... body... person, so quickly. Or ever.

Hongbin laughed (damn it, why?) and shook his head. “No... ah... we haven't really met, but my grandmother owns those apartments. She gave me a job there, so I was in the office when you came in.”

“Huh,” Wonshik squinted at the handsome male as he tried to draw up some family resemblance - surely it wasn't possible - then mused out loud, “It's a wonder I didn't see you back there while I was bringing in my stuff.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hongbin chuckled (did this guy seriously want him to have a heart attack or something?), rubbing the back of his neck, “She sent me on an errand as soon as she was done boring you with that in-depth explanation of the plumbing system.”

“She really likes to tell stories, huh?”

“Yeah, she does. To anyone who'll listen.”

Wonshik laughed along with him, a curious thought drifting across his mind, “Hey, do you-”

“Hey, ah, Wonshik was it? Here's your Americano,” Yura, the pretty waitress, was suddenly standing between them, a sweet smile on her lovely face as she handed Wonshik his drink. “Are you ready to go, honey?” she chirped, turning to Hongbin and looping her arm in his.

“Sure thing.” he beamed down at her, waving at Wonshik as he moved to lead her out the door, “see you around.” Well, there goes that idea, Wonshik thought glumly as he gazed after the ridiculously gorgeous couple. He looked down at his coffee, sighing miserably. The odds hadn't exactly been in his favour anyway.

Mood considerably dampened, he waved to the friendly baristas, stepped back onto the grey pavement, and sulked his way back to his grey apartment.