The café had been transformed into the most magical of all places. Dark curtains hung in front of the windows to block off any outside interference and light. One table had been dragged into the middle of the floor: a large round one. The entire café was done up with fairy lights and candles and everything was draped in red velvet sheets. On the table stood what seemed to be an absolutely giant coffee cup, which upon closer inspection, turned out to be a fifteen-tiered chocolate-coffee cake, masterfully sculptured to look like the real thing with candles on top. Around it stood his friends.

The ones he had left, anyway.

Soonyoung was there, holding hands tightly with Wonwoo; Seungkwan, Lizzy and Ren all stood around, together with Seungcheol and Mingyu, all them clapping and cheering happily.

“…it’s not my birthday,” was all he could manage.

“It’s your going-away party,” Lizzy clarified, beckoning him over. “And you had a day off last year for your birthday so we’re celebrating it late.”

“My real birthday’s in two months,” he protested.

“Don’t be silly and blow out your candles,” Soonyoung grinned, clapping his best barista on the shoulder.

“And don’t forget your wish,” Lizzy added.

Jihoon didn’t have to think twice about what he wished for. He blew out the candles to a thunderous applause and smiled awkwardly. “Guys, this was too much!”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Here, cut your cake!”

He took the large knife but paused a moment. “…instead… uh, come here, Seungkwan.”

The chubby-cheeked delivery boy moved around and allowed Jihoon to put an arm around his shoulders. “What’s up, doc?” he grinned.

“When we first met, kid, you told me you wanted to learn from the best barista. Right? Well… admittedly, I haven’t given you too many lessons since then, but between Soonyoung and I you’re turning out to be a real golden barista. Yeah? And I’m proud of you.” Jihoon squeezed the young boy’s shoulder. “No matter how much you play hooky to make out with Vernon in the back room.”

“Do not!” he protested in indignant shock.

Jihoon chuckled. “Listen. It’s because of you and people like you that I’m not scared to leave Triple C. So there’s only one more thing I can teach you before you officially take my place as the Triple C’s golden boy. You listening?”

Seungkwan sobered a little and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Jihoon smiled softly. “Remember that coffee is an art, and that all art comes from emotion. The very best art comes from love. So every time you step into this café, you have to love what you do. And I promise you’ll be the best barista that ever lived.”

Seungkwan nodded once at the profound statement.

Jihoon gave the boy the handle of the knife. “You promise me you’re gonna love being a barista?”

“Forever,” Seungkwan answered.

“Cut the cake,” he grinned, moving to put his arm around Seungcheol’s waist.

They had a small party together, with dancing – Lizzy’s personal mixtape – champagne, cake and even a couple of helium balloons that went from floating decorations to prime-time vocal comedy really quickly. Especially Wonwoo’s extra-deep voice was simply too comical when combined with gas.

Wonwoo leaned over to his boss. “…I think it’s time. It’s your last day. Things aren’t going too well. They deserve to know who they’ve been working with.”

“Who’ve we been working with?” Lizzy had had a glass too many.

“I brought your stuff. For the full visual effect.” Wonwoo held up a plastic bag.

Jihoon took a deep breath. “Alright.”

When Jihoon came out of the bathroom, he was in full ceremonial uniform; eyeliner on his face, fringe gelled up off his forehead.

Half the party went quiet with shock. The other half just smiled at each other knowingly.

‘’Oh my God,” somebody murmured.

“So, uh, I’m sorta, kinda like uhm royalty?” Jihoon coughed once awkwardly. “So uh, with all the stuff that’s been going on, that’s why I have to give up my job with you guys.”

More silence passed.

Lizzy sat down suddenly, a glass half-full of wine in her hand. “I smacked a royal prince’s tushy with a wet tea towel,” she warbled in faint distress.

“That’s alright Lizzy,” Soonyoung grinned. “Seungcheol here does far worse things to a royal prince’s tushy.”

“Shut up!”

Jihoon had to laugh at that. Within minutes he was sent away to get back into his civilian clothing again, and came back looking brighter and ready to party on.

It was the last happy evening Jihoon would have for a very, very long time.

“Sir.” Wonwoo took a deep breath, having run part of the way. “Sir, it’s your brother.”

Jihoon simply dropped his pen and gripped his head tightly. He knew what was coming. It was inevitable. Simply inevitable.

“He’s been stabbed in the chest.”

Jihoon’s hands shook where his nails were carving little half-moons in his skull.

“The assailant has been apprehended, and Jun is being taken care of.”

Jihoon stood up so quickly his chair fell over. “Jun’s still alive?!”

“Yes, sir. Well. Kind of.”

And then Jihoon was running through the hallways: he didn’t care if Mingyu could keep up with him. He had long legs. He should. The small prince just ran for it, dodging through the corridors and around bends until he found his brother on a stretcher.

“Jun! Jun!”

They were loading him into an ambulance.

“Jun!”

“He’ll be alright.” Arms crossed around Jihoon to