First days are always nerve-wrecking, no matter what they are the first days of. First days of schools are filled with worries about making friends and the escalated schoolwork. First days of a relationship are infested with tickling butterflies, a good type of nervousness. And then there were first days of work are filled with mistakes that you don’t want to make so you don’t seem incapable but you make them anyway because you have no freaking clue what you’re doing because you weren’t properly trained for this. And that’s the type of first day Myungsoo had for his job at a call center for an airline.

But just to be clear, Myungsoo wasn’t completely incapable. For one, he was overestimating the gravity of his simple mistakes. No one cared that he transferred the call to the wrong person or that he spilled coffee in the break room or that he accidentally bumped into the manager on his way back to his desk. No one cared but Myungsoo. It was one mistake too many for him.

Secondly, this was just a job for Myungsoo. He wasn’t planning on making a career out of it. He wanted his career to be in photography, but it was difficult to break into that field. He couldn’t live on the money he made from the few gigs he contracted. The flow of money was trickling and inconsistent, and Myungsoo was growing thirstier and thirstier. So he accepted the position at the call center that he was offered through his uncle’s connections. So because Myungsoo landed into this job with a parachute on his back, he was afraid of the scrutiny that he might get from his coworkers. That was why he was so aware of every mistake that he made and dwelled on them (But like his mistakes, his coworkers didn’t care how he got the job either. Several of them acquired the job in a similar fashion).

And now, to make matters worse, Myungsoo felt like he asked his superior and neighbors one too many questions, and it made him look ignorant, even though he just wanted to check to see if he was doing the right thing. Then a call reached his desk. An old man wasn’t able to pay for his flight, and he didn’t know why and was angry about it. The flight only had a few seats left. It was a time sensitive issue. Myungsoo panicked as he flipped through his manual and as the old man barked into his ear. Myungsoo was pretty sure that he wasn’t responsible for cases like this, but he didn’t know who was. And eventually the man hung up after losing his patience and cursing Myungsoo out. That was the biggest mistake he made all day.

When the call ended, Myungsoo propped his elbows on his desk and hid his face in his hands. “Aish, what was I supposed to do?” he muttered to himself. After letting out a heavy breath, he dragged his hands down his face, pulling at it. His eyes darted over to his neighbor who was busy now with his own phone call, as was everyone else around him. He stretched his neck up to look over his cubicle walls and looked over at his supervisor’s desk. And he immediately recoiled and tucked his chin to his chest once their gazes met. Truth be told, his supervisor scared him.

Myungsoo closed his eyes and groaned, his hand reaching for a post-it pad. When he opened his eyes, he clicked a pen and wrote, “Find out where to send people who can’t pay for the flight although they have means to. Does that make sense?”

He’ll ask someone tomorrow, but for now, his shift was over, and he was more than ready to leave (and ‘celebrate’ the end of his first shift with a cold beer).

Myungsoo hoped that the next day would go along much better. Honestly, it would be hard for it to get any worse.

*****

The next day, Myungsoo was hesitant to approach his desk and start his shift. He had written the note in order to remind himself to ask someone about the problem yesterday, but he didn’t need it. He thought about it all night and all the way to work this morning. How was he supposed to bring it up? Who should he even ask? Would I get yelled at for having the customer hang up?

He wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t even have to ask someone, it would seem. Right there, on his post-it note, was something that he didn’t write. “Eung. Turn over,” Myungsoo read the scribble out loud and then quickly flipped the note over as he was commanded. And this was the message on the back: Sometimes their bank stops the transaction because they think it’s a fraud, especially if the seller of the tickets is from a foreign country. They’ll have to call their banks first.

“Hm?” Myungsoo hummed, amused. He kept flipping the post-it note back and forth, as he thought. That answer made sense. That might’ve been the case. But who was the one who wrote the message? There was no answer for that, yet.

Myungsoo lifted his eyes from the note and looked over at his neighbor on the right. “Sungjong-ssi, good morning,” he greeted the other as he sat down.

Sungjong spun in his seat towards the other. “Good morning, um…”

“Myungsoo. Kim Myungsoo,” he reminded the other.

“Sorry, Myungsoo-ssi” Sungjong quickly apologized. “I just heard so many names yesterday. It’s hard to keep them all straight. Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Myungsoo replied. This is going to be a strange job, Myungsoo concluded as he sat down. We’re going to be talking to everyone else but each other. He smiled at his coworker. “Did you happen to leave anything on my desk?” he breeched the topic carefully.

“No, why?” Sungjong answered and shot a question right back. He craned his neck to look at the other’s desk, but to him, it looked clear. “What was there?”

“Uh, nothing. It’s nothing,” Myungsoo dismissed.

Sungjong didn’t seem to believe Myungsoo and raised an eyebrow questioningly as he continued to scan the other’s desk. But before he could press any further, Sungjong’s phone rang, and he had to work.

And shortly after that, Myungsoo had his own call to answer. While he was rebooking someone’s flight, Myungsoo glanced down at the note. If it wasn’t Sungjong…Myungsoo slid his chair back for a second as he thought. He tapped his pen alongside the edge of the desk. That’s right! He smirked and nodded his head. This desk isn’t mine!

The call center was open 24 hours a day, but of course, Myungsoo didn’t work there the whole time. After his shift was done, someone came to take over his desk, and then someone else after that shift was complete. Myungsoo could possibly share a desk with three different people. Was it one of them? “It has to be!” he exclaimed.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh,” he muttered. Myungsoo forgot that he was still on the phone with the customer. “Um, your new flight, I found it,” he replied as he quickly finished booking the flight. A few minutes later he was done with the call.

When he was finished, Myungsoo reached for the post-it notepad and scribbled down something. Then he peeled the note off and carefully stuck it onto the side of his computer screen where it was easily visible. Once it stuck, Myungsoo stared at it with a small smile on his face as he flicked its edge.

Thank you.

The following day, his note was replaced by another:

Anytime :)

Myungsoo chuckled to himself and stuffed the note into his pocket. For a note so short, only a word long, it raised Myungsoo’s mood significantly and sent a jolt of energy through him, on this lazy Wednesday morning. Whoever this stranger was, he or she was on Myungsoo’s side, and it was comforting to have that support because Myungsoo was still too scared to approach his supervisor with menial questions and Sungjong was either on the phone or taking a break, never around when Myungsoo wanted to ask his question. So it was nice to have this faceless stranger to ask questions, and less intimidating too.

Also the prospect of having a secret and mysterious friend in the office was somewhat exciting. It could be anyone! More specifically, anyone who was willing to work a late night or early morning shift at an airline call center. But still! There were many types that could fall into that category, and it was those possibilities that sent Myungsoo’s mind whirling and put a slender grin on his face.

It was just the intrigue that he needed to break up his long and tedious workday, especially today. He was on the phone for a couple of hours with a single customer, who was panicking. The customer obviously didn’t like making phone calls (and honestly, Myungsoo could relate; he didn’t particularly like making calls either, which was ironic because he was now working at a call center, talking on the phone all day). Her voice was small, and Myungsoo felt bad for making her repeat things because then she’d raise her voice but it’d be quivering. And he pitied her because this whole problem wasn't even her fault.

While the computer was processing his latest request, Myungsoo put the customer on hold temporarily and finally let out a great groan. Wanting to vent, he grabbed the pad again and wrote another note:

What should I do when a company booked a flight overseas under the model’s stage name instead of her birth name?

Hopefully his correspondent could commiserate with him. It was a ridiculous problem to have. The model’s agent had given this poor woman the wrong name for the model, meaning her ID and name on the plane ticket wouldn’t match.  And this woman, whose company requested the model for the photoshoot and scheduled the flights, was the only one in her office and was forced to deal with the problem.

Unfortunately, Myungsoo couldn’t simply just change the name on the ticket (to his knowledge). They had to redo the whole booking process from square one, and there were multiple flights.

But fortunately, Myungsoo was able to solve the problem, albeit a couple hours and several hair-pulling moments later, and he was also able to get it off of his chest, when he took a coffee break with Sungjong when he was finished. It was nice to finally to be able to have a conversation with his neighbor, although Myungsoo still wasn’t sure how to address or talk to Sungjong. Sungjong had been with the company for a few years but was also a year younger than Myungsoo. Awkward, everything about this job was still awkward for Myungsoo.

Except one thing.

Easy solution: people should only have one name…What did you do?

Myungsoo’s secret correspondent. That message was written underneath the question that he’d asked the day before. But that wasn’t the only note that Myungsoo came back to on Thursday morning. There was also another post-it note tacked to his computer screen, right underneath his: Is it someone famous? You can tell me. I can keep a secret.

Myungsoo snorted. I know you could probably keep a secret, he thought as he pursed his lips. You still haven’t told me who you are.

“Good morning, Myungsoo-ssi.” Sungjong greeted as he slipped back into his desk with a cup of coffee in his hands. He grinned at the elder slyly. “You seem to be in a good mood.”

Myungsoo cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, trying to act casual. “Really?” his voice was low and steady, cool (or so he thought).

“Yea, you seem actually happy to work here,” Sungjong responded as he spun towards his neighbor. “You must like this job.”
“I like parts of it,” Myungsoo replied, answering honestly but not giving much away.

Sungjong nodded along while he spoke. “I agree,” the younger added. “It’s not entirely horrible. The people here are always nice, even when the customers aren’t.”

Myungsoo faced forward again, eyes fixed on his computer, at the two notes sticking to the side of the screen, and grinned. “Yea, they are.”

*****

Later that day, Myungsoo wrote a reply to the note, a longer one because he was in such a good mood: There’s no secret. I’ve never heard of the person. Which was true, and even her stage name sounded like a regular Korean name, but aside from that, it didn’t sound familiar at all. Myungsoo could only assume that it was a rookie model with a bumbling agent. And under that he wrote: What else could I do besides cancel the ticket and have them purchase a new one? It took hours. He pulled off that note and stuck it onto the edge of the computer, but Myungsoo still wasn’t satisfied. His fingers were still itching to write more, to reach out one more time to this person. He looked down at the pad as he twirled the pen around in his hand, while he thought about what else to write. The words never came to his mind, but an image did. He drew a cartoon emoji with a headset much like Myungsoo’s own, stressed out and tired, passed out on the desk. After adding the finishing , Myungsoo admired his work proudly and stuck it underneath the other. He then began to pack up his things to leave, wishing that he didn’t have to wait until morning to see a response.

*****

That’s what I would’ve done (I’m keeping that picture F.Y.I.). Friday morning, Myungsoo came in to find both of his messages gone (and pocketed by this stranger), and he found out that the other wanted to reach out to him as much as he did. There was another note:

Is this your first week? You sound new. This desk used to always be sticky. Now it’s not.

A personal question, still work related, but this person was curious about Myungsoo. He quickly penned a reply: Eung. I started last Monday. And then after giving it some more thought, he added, I’m a clean person.

He wrote that answer within the first 10 minutes of his shift, and for the remainder of it, Myungsoo wondered if he could ask the other a personal question of his own. But what? What wouldn’t be so invasive? Myungsoo’s curiosity was eating at him. He had so many questions that he wanted to ask, but none of them seemed right, seemed appropriate. So rather than threaten this growing correspondence, Myungsoo left his answer as just that, just an answer to the other’s question.

Maybe next time, Myungsoo thought. Next time I’ll be more daring. But for now, he had phone calls to answer and customers to help, and more importantly, he’d be ending his first week at work and was going to celebrate it by drinking with his colleagues (well, Sungjong and his work friends).

And after he went drinking with them, he forgot all about the note from that morning, almost. He found it again in his pants pocket when he was changing into pajamas that night. Myugnsoo pulled it out and read it over again. Outside of work, he now felt silly for getting so excited over such a simple question, but at the same time, he regretted not asking one in return. Who are you? Myungsoo wished he knew just a little bit more.

But what was done is done. Myungsoo threw the note on the desk in his room. He needed to put it out of his mind. He planned on spending his weekend grabbing a bus to the beach and taking pictures there to expand his portfolio. It was late already and the bus was going to leave early in the morning, in a few hours. Myungsoo flopped onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow.

Everything else would have to wait until Monday.

*****

I’m glad! It’s great not having my arms stick to the desk when I sit down. I think the person who had your shift was a hagfish.

Myungsoo was actually surprised to see that note attached to his computer screen. He’d successfully forgotten this small correspondence over the weekend when he immersed himself in photography. But a part of him was slightly disappointed that there were no other questions. Myungsoo had enjoyed answering them for once and he wondered if the other’s curiosity ended at this. And another part of him was confused. A hagfish? What is that?

During his break, he looked up what a hagfish was and subsequently was disgusted and amused at what he found, a prehistoric sea creature with a ghastly looking face. Another worker had caught Myungsoo making weird faces at his phone and came over to investigate what was so interesting. “Oh a hagfish,” the coworker said and then retched. “Those things are gross.”

And that was how Myungsoo met Sungyeol, who was a bit older than him but didn’t act much like it. It was more comfortable for Myungsoo to talk with Sungyeol than Sungjong for that reason, although Sungyeol was one of those people with a curiosity approaching rudeness (but not quite there and still harmless) and with loose lips. He was the office gossip.

But being friendly with the office gossip seemed to complement Myungsoo, who tended to be more on the quiet side. Sungyeol could basically carry a conversation on his own, and Myungsoo found him just amusing to listen to. It was probably the most pleasant break he had since he entered the company.

However when he returned to his desk, Myungsoo’s small smile fell from his face. Sungyeol, was he nosy enough to poke around his coworkers’ desks after their shift was done and leave notes? Maybe.

Myungsoo sat up slightly from his chair and stretched his neck to look over his cubicle wall, searching for Sungyeol. And he found him. Sungyeol wasn’t at his own desk but Boni’s. Myungsoo wasn’t too surprised. Boni’s desk was cluttered with strange and occult items, including a jar of salt and red beans. But it suited Boni, who dressed as strangely and cluttered as her desk. Sungyeol, though, was picking up things from her desk, playing with them in his hands. He only stopped when Boni came over and caught him in the act, tearing her belonging out of his grasp and shooing him away. Sungyeol scurried over back to his desk with a cheeky grin on his face, while asking Boni what the object was and began wiping his hands furiously when she responded that it was a genuine shrunken head.

Myungsoo would’ve laughed at the entire exchange but instead he fell back down into his seat as his mind raced. His eyes went to the note still on his computer. It could be Sungyeol, leaving him these notes. Sungyeol, who made himself at home at others’ desks and played with their things, he could have easily done it. At that thought, Myungsoo took the note down and threw it into the wastebasket. If it was Sungyeol, the office gossip, it could be risky. If it was him, it wasn’t fun anymore. Not only was it no longer a secret but…Is he just messing with me? The whole time they talked, it would’ve meant that it was only a secret from Myungsoo.

So Myungsoo didn’t write a response that day, out of fear that it was his coworker. But he did write a note, to himself as a reminder for later. He left it, stuck onto the wall of his cubicle:

Is the hagfish the octopus’ cousin?

That was another thing he’d been thinking about all day, that hagfish. It was so strange. He might’ve lost his curiosity in the secret (or not-so-secret if it was, in fact, Sungyeol) correspondence, but he found something else to take its place.

*****

“What is this?”

Myungsoo asked as he sputtered into a laugh. He came to his desk the next morning and found a note stuck to the side of the computer screen. Even though yesterday Myungsoo had written the note to himself, the correspondent must’ve thought Myungsoo had posed that question to him/her and answered: Why don’t you ask the octopus? And the rest of the note was filled with a giant blob which Myungsoo could only assume was an octopus because it had eight squiggly lines coming out of its sides. And above the poor, squished octopus’ head was a conversation bubble which said, I don’t know.

Myungsoo laughed again as he read it again, murmuring, “What is this?”

“What’s what?” Sungjong asked as he rolled back from his desk.

“Oh, um,” Myungsoo stammered as he scrambled to make up a reason. “I can’t read my own handwriting. I left a note for myself yesterday,” he sort of lied and stuffed the note into his pocket.

“Don’t make it a habit,” Sungjong reprimanded him sternly. The sunbae in him was hatching out. “We’re supposed to always keep our desk cleared after our shift is done.”

“Really?” Myungsoo mumbled lowly as he sat in his seat. Sungjong gave him a short nod. Myungsoo’s head turned quickly towards the other side of the room and then back to his neighbor. He leaned in and asked, “Does that mean Boni-ssi sets those out every day?”

“Yes,” Sungjong answered with a sigh. And the both of them stood up slightly out of their chairs to look at Boni organizing the many things on her desk. “She gets here early to set them up,” the younger explained.

“Whoa,” Myungsoo muttered as he sat back down in his seat, mouth slightly open in amazement.

“Right?” Sungjong added and then clicked her his tongue. “Her superstition knows no bounds,” he remarked below his breath, shaking his head. But then he perked up, looking quickly over to the side. Sungjong tapped Myungsoo as he told him, “You’re getting a call. Sungyeol is going to transfer it over to you in three, two, one….”

The phone on Myungsoo’s desk rang just in time. “Whoa. How did you know?” he asked as he slid back to his desk, ready to answer.

“I just do,” Sungjong remarked. “You’ll pick it up too. It’s a sixth sense you develop after being on this job for a while.”

Myungsoo hummed to show that he’d heard the younger’s answer and then picked up the call. While he was talking to the customer, Myungsoo’s hand went into his pocket, fiddling with the note. A sixth sense? Right, soon Myungsoo would get a better feel for this job and sense the phone calls coming before they do. Soon, he’d know everything that there is to this job. He pulled out the now crumpled note and stared at it. He’d even know for sure who his correspondent was. Myungsoo looked up just in time to see Sungyeol walk past his desk, and they nodded to each other as a short greeting. Myungsoo’s grip tightened on the note. Soon I’ll know for sure.

*****

The rest of the workweek passed by without much excitement. Myungsoo, after Sungjong’s warning, didn’t leave any notes behind, and so he got none in return, which was alright in the long run, Myungsoo supposed. If Sungyeol was really the correspondent, then it would just be better to talk to him in person, or listen. Myungsoo didn’t really say much whenever they spent breaks together, especially when Sungjong and Boni would join them. Myungsoo, being the most recent hire, would be the one in the back, making coffee for all of them and laughing along with them. He’d interject a comment here or there, but for the most part he was quiet. However, that’s just how Myungsoo was, generally, an observer. He had fun sometimes by watching other people have fun, which was probably why he was so drawn to photography. But it was enjoyable, hanging out with the three of them, although still uncomfortable at times, always ending with a strained silence and everyone returning to their desks. Myungsoo would be the last one out of the break room, every time.

Will things get easier? More natural? No, not yet, judging by how much his voice would crack when he answered phone calls and how many times he’d say ‘uh’ or ‘um’ with both his customers and his coworkers. It was still awkward. But it was only the second week. He still needed to find his bearings.

While aspects of his job still felt uncomfortable, photography, on the other hand, came naturally to him. Every night that week when he came home from work, feeling tired and out of sorts, he would prepare for the schedule he had that weekend, buying film for one of his cameras and taking test shots. Doing that reminded him why he was working at the call center in the first place, so that later he could do photography for a living. Whenever he’d put the camera away at night, he felt confident and refreshed enough to face work in the morning.

And then the weekend finally came, as did the schedule. It was a wedding, his first. But unlike many other first times in his life, Myungsoo wasn’t nervous at all. Instead, he was excited. It helped that he was already familiar with the couple. He’d taken their engagement photos a few months ago, and they liked Myungsoo’s work well enough to hire him for their big day. And Myungsoo liked the couple too; he adored the way they interacted with each other, found it precious. It was the way that they looked into each other’s eyes. It wasn’t just a look of love, but they looked at each other as if the other were their whole world, and there was no one else that mattered, not even Myungsoo who was capturing those heart-warmingmoments.

Myungsoo left that shoot wanting to have a relationship like that, to find someone who’d he matter that much to. He wanted to be someone’s world. And when he walked into the wedding hall at the hotel, Myungsoo saw someone who wanted a relationship like that as well, or at least someone who wanted to be with the bride. That was what Myungsoo gathered from how the man was acting. While Myungsoo was walking around the hall, taking pictures at every table of the guests, he saw the man with his head on the table, turned towards the altar. Myungsoo kept a watchful eye on the man as he walked about. The man’s eyelids drooped lower and lower with every blink until they finally closed. He actually fell asleep! He fell asleep at a wedding! Myungsoo was astonished. His head swung around the room, looking for everyone’s reaction to it, but no one else noticed. They all had their eyes on the couple who only had eyes for each other. Myungsoo turned back towards the man, who now had his mouth open slightly as he slept. Is he drunk?

There was only one way to find out. Myungsoo headed over to the table, clutching the camera in his hands. The man was flanked by whom Myungsoo could only assume were his parents. Myungsoo would have a better idea if he could actually see the man’s face, but it was smooshed against the table right now. Myungsoo sighed and forced a slender smile on his face as he carefully approached the middle-aged woman seated next to him. “Hello. I’m the photographer,” Myungsoo introduced himself, showing her his camera. “I’ve been going around and taking pictures of the tables. But if this is a bad time to take a picture, I can come back later.” He then looked past her to the man who was still sleeping.

“Bad time?” the woman repeated. She turned to see where the photographer was looking. “Oh, this kid!” she exclaimed. “I told him that he didn’t have to come, but he insisted. And now look at him. He’s a mess.” She then gave the man a sharp slap on the back, and then another. “Wake up,” the woman commanded her son. “We need to get our picture taken.” The father also began smiling and shaking his son, until the man finally lifted his head.

“Oh,” he muttered and a yawn ripped through his mouth. And when he closed his mouth, Myungsoo finally got a good look at him. The man’s face was swollen, and dark circles reached down to his round cheeks. There was a line of drool from the corner of his lip down to his chin. He raised his heavily lidded eyes up, finally noticing that Myungsoo was there, and he wiped his chin roughly as he asked his mother, “What is it, Mom?”

“This man wants to take our picture,” she answered, ending with a heavy sigh. She then her fingers and began fixing the man’s messy mop of hair. And the man was too out of it to care that his mother was treating him like a baby in front of this stranger.

“Who?” the man murmured as he cautiously looked up to Myungsoo again, who in turn lifted up his camera, pretending to snap a photo.

“The photographer!” his mother exclaimed, giving her son a sharp shake, grabbing at his shoulder. “Don’t make this nice man wait. Smile.” She put her arm around her son and turned them both towards the camera. The father leaned in to join them. Both of the parents were smiling brightly, but the man still looked lost and confused, eyes falling shut again, until his mother picked up the corners of his lips, forcing them into a smile. At that moment, Myungsoo took the picture, which was good because the man let the smile naturally fall down.

“Thank you,” Myungsoo said as he bowed to the table. When he lifted his head again, he noticed that the man looked more awake and his gaze was fixed on the bride.  Myungsoo moved over to the next table, but overheard the conversation going on behind him between the man and his parents.

“She looks pretty,” the man remarked. It sounded like he was yawning again.

“You already said that,” his father reminded him.

“Really?”

“Eung,” his father was now laughing at him. “Many times.”

“Well, she does,” the man insisted. “She always does.”

Myungsoo hazarded a glance back at the man, who was still watching the bride attentively. The photographer clicked his tongue as he looked back at the now married couple. I wonder if he’d just lost his world.

*****

Shortly afterwards, it was time to take photos of the families of the bride and groom. The bride’s side was first. The mother of the bride, with her arm tightly holding her daughter, waved to a table behind Myungsoo. “Get up here! You’re family too!” she called to them. Myungsoo spun around to see who the woman was calling out to and his eyes widened in shock when he saw those two parents from before, struggling to lift their son (who fell asleep again) from the table.

“Come on, get up!” the mother sounded exasperated.

The man finally stepped forward, rolling his head over to the side. Myungsoo stiffened. Did he get even more drunk since I left? “Why?” the man slurred under his breath. Myungsoo sighed. The answer appeared to be ‘yes.’

“Picture,” the father replied this time, pulling his son up until he could stand up straight on his own.

The son was now standing straight up, but too straight. He couldn’t hold it and leaned onto his father for support as he asked, “Didn’t we already take one?”

“Come on,” the mother said with a groan as she dragged her son (with her husband’s help) over to the bridal party. “They want another one of your handsome face.”

The man snorted. “What handsome face?” He then wiggled his arms out of his parents’ grasp. “I can walk on my own,” he insisted. And the man did a pretty good job of it, until he came to the small set of stairs and stumbled onto them. Myungsoo winced at that. He was embarrassed for the man, but he also pitied him. If the man was truly in love with the bride and both of their families were this close, then this day would be unbearable. But the man still came and didn’t try to disrupt the wedding or make a scene, only wanting to numb his pain with the sweet succor of alcohol; however, he ended up causing a scene anyway. But I can help.

Myungsoo walked over and cupped the man’s elbow, helping him regain his balance. “Thank you,” the man mumbled and allowed the photographer to lead him to his spot, which was the furthest away that Myungsoo could place him from the bride, while staying in the frame. His parents came up to them soon, and Myungsoo placed them around their son.

“Perfect,” Myungsoo said once he was done. He then walked back over to the tripod that he’d set up for the photo. While looking through the camera, he told the group, “Everyone, please move in a bit on the sides. Alright! One, two, three, smile!” After snapping a few shots, Myungsoo pulled away from the camera and gave them a warm grin. “Beautiful! We’re done. You can all return to your table now.”

But one person didn’t listen, and in spite of being placed the furthest from the bride, the drunken man sauntered up to the bride and the groom. Once upon them, he wrapped his arms around the bride and was now leaning too much into her unintentionally. “Congratulations. You look pretty today,” he told her.

“Thank you,” the bride replied, laughing nervously. She was obviously flustered and tried to pry the other off of her. Getting the hint, the man pulled away. “Why are you being so nice?” she asked.

“It’s your wedding day, and you look pretty. Can I not say that?” he challenged, pouting, and his eyes were closed again.

“No, you can,” the woman denied, smiling genuinely now. “I’ve just never heard you say it before.” She then placed a hand on his shoulder, for a fleeting moment as she said, “And you look handsome too.”

“Eh, I don’t, not today. Don’t lie,” the man grumbled as he ruffled his already messy hair. His eyes then flew wide open and fell onto the groom. “And you!” the man exclaimed, wagging his finger at the groom. “You better treat her well, or you’ll have me to deal with,” he threatened.

The groom didn’t take the threat seriously. He chuckled as he wrapped his arm around his new wife’s waist. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll treat her like a princess,” he promised, ending it by pressing a peck on the side of her head. The bride blushed.

“Princess?” the man scoffed. “She’s a queen. An empress. A…wh-what’s bigger than that?” he stammered as he posed the question to the bride with a sheepish half-smile.

The bride frowned and dug her knuckles into the forehead of the man, knocking some sense into that fussy mind. “Go home, Woohyun, and get some sleep,” she told him. And the man, named Woohyun, listened to her command, already stepping away from the couple. “Thank you for coming,” the bride said as Woohyun was leaving.

Woohyun was walking backwards as he waved to them and yelled, “Bye. Happy wedding!” Which wasn’t all around a brilliant idea, because he had no idea where he was going and stumbled into Myungsoo and his tripod. Luckily, Myungsoo could catch his equipment before it fell to the ground. Woohyun however wasn’t so lucky; he was picking himself up from the floor. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he muttered as he got up. He quickly bowed to Myungsoo in apology and scurried off to join his parents.

“It’s okay,” Myungsoo said to no one because Woohyun had already left. After steadying the camera, Myungsoo looked back up to the couple and the bride was shaking her head as she watched Woohyun leave. Does she know how he feels? Myungsoo wondered, but instead he asked them, “Groom’s side?”

“Yes!” the both of them readily agreed to Myungsoo’s suggestion.

However, the groom’s side of the family was just as difficult as the bride’s. There were several children on this side of the family, and none of them were in the mood to have their picture taken. One little girl was insistent on being with the bride, so the bride offered to hold her. But as Myungsoo was lifting the girl and handing her over to the bride, the girl sneezed in his face. So instead of giving her to the bride, Myungsoo just returned the child to her mother. Wiping his face vigorously, he went over to the camera and finally managed to take the shot. And there was nothing like that feeling, nothing like finally snapping the shot he’d work so hard, waited so long to get. He even managed to get a few more in. That even made a sneeze in his face and a drunk knocking over his tripod worth it.

And overall, Myungsoo would say that his first wedding went far better than his first day of work. It was definitely more fun, and interesting too.

I hope that guy meets someone nice.

*****

Sadly, in addition to a paycheck, Myungsoo also acquired a nasty cold from the wedding. He spent his Sunday wandering from his bed, to the couch, to the bathroom and back again. Come Monday morning, it was got only worse. He had a sore throat now, so he wore a mask to work and carried something special in his bag.

When he walked into the office, Sungyeol was already there with a coffee in his hand, as if he were waiting for the new coworker to arrive. Sungyeol gestured around his mouth. “Catch a cold?” he guessed. Myungsoo nodded, saving his voice for the calls later. Sungyeol clicked his tongue and shook his head. “How did you manage to do that when things are finally warming up?” he asked as if it were something amazing.

Myungsoo pulled the mask down to his chin. “I caught it from a little girl,” he whispered so quietly that Sungyeol had to lean in to hear it.

Once he heard it, Sungyeol pulled away and snapped his fingers. “Ah. Little kids are cute but are germ magnets,” he remarked. Myungsoo nodded, pulling his mask over his lips again. Sungyeol clapped his hand on Myungsoo’s shoulder. “Stay strong, Myungsoo-ssi. Fighting!” he urged him. Sungyeol then moved to leave, but the second he took his first step away, he snapped his fingers once more and spun back towards Myungsoo. “Oh, wait!” Sungyeol commanded. He quickly pulled a scrap of paper from his pants pocket and a pen from the pocket of his shirt and began writing. Once he quickly jotted down a note, he handed it over to the other. “Can you give this to Sungjong?” Myungsoo nodded, taking the note into his hands. Sungyeol leaned in and whispered into the other’s ear like it was a secret. “He’ll know what it means. Thank you!” And with that Sungyeol sauntered back over to his desk.

Myungsoo walked over to his own and after greeting his neighbor, he delivered the note to Sungjong, saying hoarsely,“Sungyeol-ssi wanted me to give you this.”

Sungjong took the note and looked at it for a split second before rolling his eyes and letting out a groan, “Again?” Myungsoo stared at him as he pulled out his chair and sat down, and Sungjong must’ve felt his questioning gaze because he soon elaborated, “He likes bringing me on group dates because it gives him ‘good results.’” He then rolled his head over to face Myungsoo and smirked. “I don’t know what he really means by that because we’re both still single.” Myungsoo laughed at that and pulled his chair closer to his desk.

He was about to log into his computer when he noticed something, tacked to the side of it.

How was your weekend?

A note. Myungsoo hadn’t seen one since early last week. He immediately pushed back from his desk and tore his mask off of his face, letting it dangle off of one ear. “Wait, Sungjong-ssi, can I see that?” he begged with a raspy voice.

“Hm?” Sungjong hummed curiously. But then a broad smile overtook his face as he handed Sungyeol’s note over to the other. “You want to go instead? Be my guest. Here. Good luck, Myungsoo-ssi,” he wished him and rolled back to his desk.

Myungsoo, on the other hand, turned slowly back towards his desk, clutching the note tightly. This was the moment of truth. He was going to find out if Sungyeol was really the secret correspondent. And if he was…well, Myungsoo would figure that out later. He snapped his eyes open and unfurled the note in his hands.

This Wednesday. 8 o’clock. Air Stewardesses. Be there! Chance of a lifetime!

Myungsoo’s eyes flickered to the note attached to his computer and then back down to the on in his hands. A smile grew on his face, wider and wider (until he began coughing). It wasn’t Sungyeol. The handwriting didn’t match. They didn’t even resemble each other, which meant Myungsoo had no idea who it was. It was still a secret! The excitement that he felt when he came upon the first note returned back to him (now with an added thrill because he knew leaving things behind was against company rules). And his correspondent was reaching out to him again, breaking the silence that had formed between them these past few days. This person missed me, Myungsoo thought as he took the note down from his computer. This person wants to talk again.

And Myungsoo was more than happy to comply. He wrote back in a matter of seconds: Interesting. I caught a cold (Don't worry. I’ll sanitize the desk when my shift’s done).

Speaking of sanitizing, Myungsoo thought after sticking his response on the computer monitor. He reached into his bag and pulled out an onion. I hope this works.

*****

Catching a cold is interesting? You need to get out more.

“That’s not what I meant,” Myungsoo murmured as he read the note the following morning.

“Huh, what did you say?” Sungjong asked him.

“Uh…good morning?” Myungsoo hoped that the younger would buy that.

And he did. “Morning!” Sungjong chirped back. “Feeling better?”

“Yes, much better,” Myungsoo answered as he sat down into his chair. He turned and picked up the onion in the glass of water on his desk. I can’t believe this worked, he thought. He’d seen somewhere that keeping an onion nearby would help you get over a cold. He had an onion in his fridge and he needed to get over this cold fast, so he thought it was worth a shot. And it worked, maybe; the cold medicine might’ve also helped.

“Oh?” When he turned the onion around, Myungsoo noticed a small note attached to its back. It read: Hello. Why am I here?

Myungsoo sniggered and placed the onion back down. To be honest, he’d meant to bring the onion back home with him, but he’d forgotten in his haze. The day had taken a mental toll on him, and he’d almost forgotten his coat too when he tried to stumble out of the office. But the onion stayed where it was. Maybe the company policy isn’t so strict, Myungsoo thought as he took out a marker. He drew a happy face on the onion and then stuck a post-it note on it that said, Hyung was sick, so I came to make him better.

After putting the note on the onion, Myungsoo patted it. “Thank you,” he whispered to it. He grinned as his eyes traced over the onion’s new face. Now you’ll be able to see who is sending me notes. He tilted his head. I wonder what the person is like. Ever since the realization yesterday, Myungsoo was more curious now than ever about his correspondent.

But he didn’t have much time to dwell on the person’s identity. Phone calls soon came pouring in, like the rain was flooding down outside. Damn the rainy season and damn canceled flights.

*****

You watched She was Pretty, didn’t you?

Myungsoo frowned when he read that note the next morning and his face heated up. Was I not supposed to? He sighed. In addition to photography, Myungsoo was also greatly drawn to another thing: romance. Romance in any form, whether it be in books or movies or the look two lovers share. Several dramas happened to fall into that category, and he enjoyed watching them. Essentially, Myungsoo was in love with the idea of falling in love, of anybody falling in love. He was a romantic.

So he felt a bit offended by the comment, but he still responded to it nicely and honestly (sort of): Maybe, but it works! I feel better.

It wasn’t until later that afternoon when Myungsoo realized something. The reason why he enjoyed exchanging these secret notes so much was not only because it added excitement to his boring work day but there was also a romantic aspect to it. It was almost like a plot arc from a drama, secrets notes from two passing ships that would probably never meet, and Myungsoo would find himself filling up his dead time between calls with fantasies about who this person was. What did this person look like? How did the person spend the day? He had imagined several different scenarios spanning from a goose father to a recent college graduate experiencing her first job (and maybe there was even a vampire fantasy thrown in there too). But it wasn’t until he came back from a coffee break, with a jolt of caffeine surging through him, when he realized that this person had a romantic touch too.

Myungsoo clicked his pen and added another line to his note:

Everybody watched that show. You did too! You knew!

*****

That Thursday morning, Myungsoo was only given two words as a reply: No comment. But it gave him enough laughs to last the entire day.

*****

There was no note left for him on Friday, probably because Myungsoo didn’t write one on Thursday. At the end of his shift, Myungsoo got a call from one of his former clients (Jang Dongwoo), who owned a clothing store and was a friend of a friend. He’d taken photos for the store’s website. And now the client wanted Myungsoo to take pictures of his wedding after the photographer that his fiancée had hired fell through. The wedding was this coming Saturday, and Myungsoo had little time to prepare. The rest of his shift was consumed with this schedule and nothing else. But before he left that Friday, Myungsoo did leave a short note to the other: Have a good weekend. I know I will.

And Myungsoo did have a good weekend. He took many, many photos, several of them Myungsoo would later ask the couple if he could put into his portfolio. He was paid more than what he charged because Dongwoo had felt guilty for calling him on such short notice. And finally it was good because Myungsoo ran into someone that he thought he’d never meet again. Their second meeting took place in a parking lot.

“Oh, hello,” Myungsoo greeted Woohyun after the other got out of his car, which Myungsoo happened to be passing by. Woohyun appeared to be in much better condition today than he was last weekend, or he was at least upright and walking on his own. He still looked very tired.

“Hello,” Woohyun greeted him back, but he looked lost and confused. He narrowed his eyes on the photographer. “Have we met before? I feel like we have.”

“Ah, yes at the wedding last weekend,” Myungsoo replied as they both made their way up the stairs to the venue. “I was the photographer.” He showed off his camera bag to the other, hoping that it would spur Woohyun’s memory.

“Ah! Right!” Woohyun exclaimed, grimacing. “Sorry for not remembering. I wasn’t in the best condition that day,” he apologized.

Myungsoo waved his hand, dismissing it as an issue. He didn’t take offense at all. Woohyun was obviously going through a lot that day. “I could tell,” the photographer told him. “You look in better condition today, though.”

Woohyun snorted. “That’s because I actually got some sleep,” he replied and opened the door for the other to walk through. He then followed Myungsoo inside and kept talking all the while, “I’m glad. I nearly ruined my cousin’s wedding. I would hate to ruin my best friend’s.”

Myungsoo paused in his step, waiting for the other to come to his side so that Woohyun could see the incredulous look on his face. Had he been wrong? “Your cousin? Which side?” he asked.

“Yes, the bride was my cousin,” Woohyun answered, which made the photographer stop in his tracks. He’d gotten Woohyun wrong entirely. Unless he’s in love with his cousin. No, no. That can’t be it. It has to be something else. And Myungsoo was about to open his mouth to ask the other why he was so drunk last weekend, but Woohyun spoke before he had a chance to, “I have to run in now. I’m MC-ing. I’ll see you around.” With that, Woohyun picked up his pace, slightly jogging done the hall and into the ballroom.

After the other entered the room, Myungsoo hiked up his bag strap on his shoulder. He had a job to do too.

And the both of them did their jobs well. The lighting at the venue was great, just soft enough to give the photos a nice feel to them. And Woohyun was, perhaps, in the same category as Sungyeol. Words just seemed to flow out of their mouths. He conducted the ceremony well. You could also feel his closeness with both the groom and the bride, which made Myungsoo wondered which one of them was Woohyun’s best friend. The MC also made lame jokes, really lame jokes, but they got laughs from everybody, including Myungsoo. It was nice to capture all of the smiles in the room. It was truly a beautiful and happy ceremony. Myungsoo could really feel the love all around him, warming his heart.

I love this job, he thought as he prepared to set up the tripod for group shots with the bride and groom. While he was doing so, the MC stepped down from the podium and made his way to Myungsoo. The photographer had expected the other to do so and to give him instructions. Woohyun was the announcing what was going on after all. But Myungsoo did not expect the first words out of the other’s lips to be, “Hey, can you do me a big favor?” Myungsoo stiffened and furrowed his eyebrows. Woohyun sensed the other’s hesitancy and quickly added, “I mean, it won’t take much effort on your part, but it would mean a lot to me.”

“Okay,” Myungsoo drawled out, reluctantly giving in.

“Okay,” Woohyun muttered as he stepped in closer to the photographer. He dropped his voice to a low whisper, “Do you see that guy over there?” He nodded over to a rather tall man who was talking to the bride and groom. Myungsoo narrowed his eyes on that man and cocked his head. Something about that man seemed familiar, almost like Myungsoo had seen him before. Was he at the wedding last weekend too? Woohyun noted his confusion and added, in frustrated tone, “The one pretending to be the goblin?”

“Yes,” Myungsoo spat out and then crumbled down into giggles. That’s where he’d seen the man before, or a man like him. The guy had his wavy hair parted down the middle and wore an outfit straight from the drama.

Woohyun groaned, rolling his eyes as he looked over at the fake goblin. “Yea, just because his surname is ‘Kim,’ he thinks that he can be like Kim Shin,” he hissed through gritted teeth. He then huffed and fixed his gaze back on Myungsoo. “Anyway, he’s…” Woohyun stopped to bite his lip, holding it back, and begged the other, “Please don’t judge me. Please don’t think bad of me.”

Myungsoo shook his head and whispered back, “I won’t. I promise.” And he tried to give the MC a reassuring grin, but Woohyun still had a lot of doubt swimming in his eyes.

“I’m just going to be honest with you, okay?” Woohyun said, raising an eyebrow, being on guard for the photographer’s reaction. But there was nothing for Myungsoo to react to yet.

“Just say it,” Myungsoo snapped and then quickly added (remembering to be polite retroactively), “Please.”

“Okay,” Woohyun muttered, and then took in a deep breath, gathering enough courage to say, “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh,” slipped from Myungsoo mouth, open in shock. His head whipped back over towards the ‘goblin’ who was now ‘casually’ flipping through a book that came from nowhere. Just like the drama.

“Yea,” Woohyun sounded like he regretted telling Myungsoo, and he really regretted it when Myungsoo began roaring with laughter, slapping his free hand against his own thigh. Woohyun pouted. “Why? Why are you laughing? You promised,” he grumbled.

“I didn’t promise that I wouldn’t laugh,” Myungsoo squeaked through his laughter. “You dated the goblin! Did he take you to Canada?” he asked as he tried to choke his laughter down.

“Yes, but that’s completely unrelated,” Woohyun shot back.

“Really?”

Woohyun sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing the gap between his eyes with his fingers. “I’m really hoping so,” he muttered below his breath. He opened his eyes and dropped his hands. “Damn, that’s why he wanted to go all of the sudden.”

“You didn’t realize it before?” Myungsoo asked. The laughter wanted to come back out again, but he kept it hidden behind his cheeks. However a snort did escape through his nose.

“I mean, I realized his obsession with Gong Yoo, yes,” Woohyun partially answered (probably realizing now how deep the obsession ran).

“Did he have a zombie phase too? Because of Train to Busan?” Myungsoo whispered excitedly. Woohyun looked up at him, eyes begging the photographer not to make him answer the question. But that was more than enough of an answer for Myungsoo. He giggled, “He did, didn’t he?”

“Anyway, the favor,” Woohyun changed the subject with a stern voice.

“Oh, right. Go ahead,” Myungsoo urged him.

“Don’t make me stand near him in pictures, please,” Woohyun finally revealed his request. “Everyone knew we were close, but very few of them knew we were dating,” he revealed. “We’ve all known each other since high school, and…”

“I understand,” Myungsoo cut him off. Woohyun was speaking very slowly as if each word pained him to say. Myungsoo patted him on the back and the both of them watched the group forming around the bride and groom, getting ready for the group photo. But after a few seconds, Myungsoo’s eyes went back to Woohyun, who was still watching the group, watching one particular person with a look of worry and sadness. “Did you guys break up recently?” the photographer asked.

Woohyun faced him again. “Is it obvious?” he replied. By his desperation, yes it was obvious, especially to Myungsoo who was an avid observer of people. He’d seen that look hundreds of times before, in the eyes of actors, actresses, friends, family, and even people on the street. Behind that look was a freshly broken heart.

“Woohyun-ah!” the groom called out to his friend. “What’s taking so long?”

“Thank you,” Woohyun whispered over to the photographer before running up to join the group of old friends.

“Are you ready?” Myungsoo asked them as they settled into position, all except for one. Woohyun was awkwardly standing to the side.

“Woohyun, stand next to Jinsang,” Dongwoo suggested and pointed over to the wannabe goblin on the other side of the group. And judging by the smug smile on Jinsang’s face, he expected his little ‘Euntak’ to run back to his side, thinking that they still had chance. But it was too late, in this lifetime at least.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, it would be better if Woohyun-ssi stood over there,” Myungsoo stepped in, like he had promised, and gestured to the other side of the group.

“Why?” Jinsang objected.

“Ah, um,” Myungsoo scrambled to put together an answer, “…he’s shorter, so the photo will be better balanced because of the height of...”

“Good point,” Dongwoo broke him off, growing impatient and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Let’s take the picture! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

“Alright!” Myungsoo agreed. “One, two, three, smile!” And all of them did.

Before he left, Woohyun made sure to thank the photographer again for helping him. And Myungsoo noted that before Woohyun left, the MC handed back a red scarf to his old goblin. Myungsoo snapped a picture of Jinsang’s expression after Woohyun left. The photographer shook his head and clicked his tongue as he studied the photo. It wasn’t a look of someone who lost his lover. It’d looked as if Jinsang had lost only a game. He surely was no Gong Yoo, no matter how hard he tried.

I hope you meet with someone better in your next life, Woohyun-ssi.

*****

On Sunday, Myungsoo decided that it was time. He was going to see if his secret correspondent had the shift before his own. He was going to come into work early and try to catch the person in the act. Myungsoo didn’t really know what drove him towards this decision. Perhaps he was just getting impatient. He wanted to move onto the next episode of his drama.

So on Monday morning, he came an hour early to work. He took his time getting ready that morning, dressing well. He helped him to calm down a bit. He was too excited to go through with this plan that he woke up earlier than he’d planned. Today is the day, he thought as he smoothed down his hair before walking into the call center. Today, I’ll find out.

There was a woman at his desk. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail, and she was dressed well but comfortably too. Her large glasses frames were slipping down her nose and her tongue peeked out of the corner of as she carefully placed a note on the smiling onion.

It’s her! Myungsoo took in a deep breath and then a step towards their shared desk, and then another, and another. Soon he was standing right behind her. He cleared his throat and said, “Um, hello. Do you sit here too?”

The woman squeaked and jumped in her seat at the sudden sound. She spun around in her chair, eyes wide and mouth quivering until she managed to speak, “Uh, yes.” She gathered her composure and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her hands kept traveling up until her fingers ran through her already messy hair. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. Is it already that late? Or early? I lost track of time,” she rambled and sprung up from her seat, ready to gather her things. “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your way.”

“Ah, no, I’m here early,” Myungsoo explained. The woman whipped her head back up to look at the other. Myungsoo gave her a gentle smile as their eyes met. A smile of her own spread across her lips, a mischievous one.

“Well, if you’re already here, then I can leave,” she chirped and finished packing up her things. She then waved at the other with both hands. “Bye bye!”

Myungsoo’s smile fell as he watched the woman leave with a skip in her step, probably grateful to catch an extra hour of free time. When she turned the corner, disappearing from his sight, that’s when the disappointment sank in, hitting him deep. He fell into the chair and rolled himself closer to the desk, head hanging down. This was a twist that he wasn’t expecting. She didn’t even care. Myungsoo raised his eyes to the onion. This will be the last note. I don’t want to write anymore.

Onion Buddy hates Mondays.

Myungsoo gasped. The handwriting was loopy and big, neatly written, unlike the handwriting that he was used to seeing. Myungsoo smiled in relief. It’s not her. That’s why she didn’t care. He patted Onion Buddy on the green sprouts growing from his head. It must be the person who has the shift after me. Myungsoo rest his chin on the desk, looking the onion in the ‘eye.’ “Should I wait after my shift?” he asked his vegetable deskmate. There was no answer. Vegetables can’t talk.

Myungsoo raised himself from the desk and raised his gaze too, up to the computer screen. And as usual there was a note tacked onto the computer monitor, in the sloppy, angular that Myungsoo hand become so familiar with: How was your weekend? I have a feeling that mine is going to .

He took the note off from the monitor and played with it in his hands. No, maybe today wasn’t the day. The fun wasn’t over just yet.

Between phone calls that day, Myungsoo thought of his answer and finally wrote it down: Interesting. Not because of a cold. I met the Goblin.

But that wasn’t the part of his reply that he’d been struggling with all day. Myungsoo was wrestling with whether or not to ask this question: Why?

And that was the real reason why he wasn’t going to wait after his shift today. There was still fun to be had, things to learn, and waters to test. Will the person respond?

*****

Tuesday morning came, and there was no reply waiting for him on the computer monitor. But there was still a note left for him, smack dab in the middle of his desk, written in loopy and neat handwriting:

As much as I enjoy reading these notes, I got yelled at by the manager for leaving things behind and not keeping a clear station. It’s not even my fault. So plz stop! But I convinced him to let Onion Buddy stay. You’re welcome. Get well soon!

Myungsoo picked up the note and flicked it in his hands. Is it over? Myungsoo looked all over his desk for another note, and there was one attached to the onion, in the same handwriting as the note he was holding in his hands. It read: Onion buddy is ambivalent about Tuesdays. At least, it’s not Monday!

Is there nothing else? Myungsoo pouted as he sat down. Had there been something? It was possible, that the person had left him an answer and it was taken down by the manager in the wee hours of the morning. Or there could’ve been no answer at all.

It rolled about in his mind all day, what to do, how to proceed from here. And everyone seemed to know that he had something weighing down on his mind and body. Sungjong kept giving him encouragement between phone calls. Sungyeol tried harder to make him laugh during the coffee break, but only managed to squeak a distracted chortle out of Myungsoo. Boni even prayed to every divinity that she knew to give her coworker ‘peace of mind.’ And maybe the prayers worked, maybe all of his coworkers’ efforts worked. Myungsoo knew what to do and finally had the courage to do it. He hid a note underneath the armrest of his chair so that the person after him could easily find it:

We got into trouble. If you don’t mind, I’d still like your advice on things. Here’s my number.

There was one good thing that would come from this. No matter what happened, Myungsoo wouldn’t have to wait anymore until the next morning to get a reply. It was going to be later tonight, or never.

*****

And it was starting to seem like never. Myungsoo was at home now, picking at the remnants of a late night snack with his phone next to his plate on the table. Myungsoo was sick of seeing the black screen so he pressed the home button and the screen lit up, showing the time. It was 3 am. The secret correspondent’s shift should’ve been done by now, at least for an hour. But there was still nothing. “It’s over,” Myungsoo grumbled. He got up from his chair and went over to his fridge to get a beer. He popped the tab and drank from the can as he closed the door of the fridge with his foot. He wavered there for a few more moments before returning back to the table and clearing it. After he was done cleaning and the beer was finished, it’d be time to go to bed. No more waiting for notes or messages that would never come.

It only took few minutes to finish the beer, and Myungsoo didn’t find any joy in it, or satisfaction. He put the can aside and reached for the phone again to check the time. He’d received two messages from an unknown number, fifteen minutes ago.

Unknown: You know

Unknown: You can always ask your manager these questions.

Myungsoo quickly slid his thumb across the screen, unlocking his phone. When did this happen? 15 minutes ago, sure. But Myungsoo didn’t hear the phone ring. And gosh, he heard phones ringing all day long, but not now, not when it mattered (personally).

He quickly typed out a reply as he got up from the table, walking over to his bedroom.

Myungsoo: He’s not very…approachable.

Myungsoo: I feel bad for just looking at him.

For the first time, the replies came within seconds. The person must’ve been by their phone too.

Unknown: Really?

Unknown: The night manager is nice. I bother her all the time.

Myungsoo: Lucky.

Myungsoo: I’m too afraid to leave the desk sometimes.

Unknown: Did you not take a break at all the first day?

Unknown: Neither did I. I didn’t want to mess up and miss a call. I nearly died.

Unknown: Who would write you notes if I died?

Myungsoo: Doesn’t the call just get diverted to someone else?

Unknown: Yes, but what if that person isn’t at their desk and no one answers?

Myungsoo: You worry too much.

Unknown: I do.

Unknown: I’m tired of talking about work. Let’s talk about something else.

Unknown: So you like romantic comedies, huh?

Myungsoo: You must like them too. You got all of my references.

The other read the message. Myungsoo could see that. And they had been texting fairly quickly now, but now there was a lull. Myungsoo frowned as he rolled onto his back in his bed, staring up at his phone. Had he said something wrong? Myungsoo worried, for nothing, because five minutes later he got a text.

Unknown: Do you have any recommendations?

*****

Myungsoo stayed up late texting that night and had only gotten a few hours of rest, which had him walking in like a zombie that Wednesday morning. His coworkers were worried about him. It showed on their faces. They probably thought that whatever had weighed on his mind the day before kept him up all night (and that was true to an extent). But because there was a huge smile on Myungsoo’s face and because he was acting cheerfully no mattered how much he yawned, they all decided to overlook it.

After that shift ended, Myungsoo took a nap when he came home. It ended when he was woken by a text coming from his secret friend, and they both stayed up late texting each other again. And it soon became a pattern that Myungsoo fell into: work, nap, text, sleep, work, nap, text sleep, work...so on and so forth.

What did they talk about? Anything and everything. They were the type of conversations that you couldn’t remember what the Hell you talked about, but you knew that it was good, that you had fun and enjoyed yourself. Myungsoo always went to sleep with a smile on his face.

Even once they ‘watched’ a movie together, texting each other throughout. It was a romance, of course. They both cried.

But even though he spent a significant amount of time messaging his secret friend, Myungsoo made sure to not lose touch with his real life friends too. One night, when he went out drinking with his coworkers, he received a message from the other. It was a picture of Onion Buddy, now with ‘tears’ streaming down his bitter face.

Unknown: I wish that you were here instead of me.

Myungsoo tried to hide his laughter behind his fist, but of course Sungyeol caught it. He caught everything. The gossip leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of Myungsoo’s phone. “Who was that?” Sungyeol asked as the other quickly stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

“No one,” Myungsoo sort of lied. He didn’t have a name to give the other anyway.

“Eh,” Sungyeol caught him again, not letting go of Myungsoo this time as he wrapped his arm around the younger’s shoulders. “It has to be someone with that smile on his face. Right, Sungjong-ssi?” he asked the youngest as he framed Myungsoo’s grin with his hand. Sungjong only laughed and continued eating. But Myungsoo quickly pursed his lips and tugged himself out from the other’s grip. However the gossip was unrelenting. “So who is it, Myungsoo-ssi? A girlfriend? You’re a handsome fellow. You probably have a few girls interested in dating you. If you’re not interested in them, pass them along to me. I’ll take good care of them,” Sungyeol graciously offered.

Boni slapped Sungyeol’s wrist as the man was reaching for his glass. Sungyeol looked up at the woman, shocked, and she wagged a finger at him. “Let him have his privacy,” Boni chided him. She then turned to Myungsoo. “And don’t let him have any girls,” she told him, pointing at Sungyeol’s face, right between the eyes.

Myungsoo laughed. “I wasn’t planning on it,” he replied.

Sungyeol nudged Myungsoo, and when the younger looked over, Sungyeol pouted. “You’re being greedy,” he whined.

“No, you are,” Sungjong retorted on Myungsoo’s behalf. “You can’t date every girl there is, Sungyeol-ssi.”

“I can try,” Sungyeol joked. But Boni took the joke seriously, and the two of them fell into a debate about, honestly, who knew what. Those two were always bickering like an old married couple.

“So who is it?” Sungjong asked Myungsoo in a low voice as the other two were fighting. “Who were you texting?”

Honestly, Myungsoo would’ve told Sungjong. Unlike Sungyeol, he trusted Sungjong not to about it. But in the end, Myungsoo couldn’t tell him because…“Honestly, I don’t know who it is.”

“Hm? What?” Sungjong stammered, not understanding, but for only a second. His eyes soon lit up with a realization. “Ah! Is it like a promotional ad or something? A coupon?” he guessed.

“Um, yea, sure,” Myungsoo lied.

“I get excited about those too,” Sungjong responded. “If you get notified of a good sale, tell me, okay?”

“Eung,” Myungsoo grunted and then took a large gulp from his beer.

It was strange, wasn’t it? The texting? This was real life, and although some aspects of life could seem like a drama, it was still reality. And in reality, people don’t text nearly complete strangers. And when they did, it could lead to trouble, like scams or catfishing. There was a good chance that all of this wouldn’t turn out well for Myungsoo. A very good chance.

Myungsoo ended up drinking a lot that night, but somehow, Sungjong ended up drinking more. He had to send of the younger in a taxi before he could leave himself. Sungyeol begged his two coworkers that were still standing to go for a second round, but Myungsoo knew his limits (and he was a bit passed them at this point). And Boni wasn’t much of a drinker. She told Myungsoo that she’d help Sungyeol home (who was far drunker than he appeared), and she did so after writing a charm on Myungsoo’s hand, ensuring him a safe travel home.

When they were all gone and he himself was on his way home, Myungsoo pulled out his phone. Earlier, when he was more sober, he’d taken a picture of their table, cluttered with food and bottles, with a text saying: No thanks. I’d rather be here.

And there was an unread message in his inbox from the other.

Unknown: You’re too much TT

“Cute,” Myungsoo muttered under his breath as he stumbled down the street, eyes on his phone. No matter how risky it was, no matter how many ways it could possibly go wrong, Myungsoo still wanted to keep texting this person. It felt good. It felt right.

Unknown: I’m not cute. I’m cool!

Myungsoo’s heavy eyes snapped wide open when that message rolled onto his screen. He didn’t even realize that he’d actually texted “cute” to his friend. Myungsoo groaned as he closed the messaging screen and shoved the phone into his pocket. It felt right, but perhaps right now wasn’t a good time to text the other. Boni was correct: dangerous things could happen to a drunk person.

*****

Myungsoo woke up the following morning with two things. One, a hangover. Luckily it was a Saturday and he didn’t have any schedules, so he could spend the day nursing himself. Two, a ‘gift’ from his mother. Occasionally, when his mother didn’t feel like she was taking care of her son, she’d come and leave behind something for him. Mostly she’d fill his fridge with side dishes, but this time it was something…different.

“Your uncle, the one with a farm, sent us so many of them. They’re far too overgrown to sell them at the market, so I told him to give us some. And well…” she ended her explanation with a heavy sigh.

“Thanks, mom. I’ll eat them well,” he told her, trying to make her feel less guilty for forcing these on her son. With a hug, he sent her off. And after he did, he looked at the three giant zucchinis that took up his whole table. Myungsoo took one of them and measured them against his leg, curious to see how it’d measure up. “Daebak!” he exclaimed with a laugh. He took a picture and sent it to his friend.

Myungsoo: What do I do with this?

Unknown: What is that? A zucchini?

Myungsoo: Yup.

Unknown: No idea.

Myungsoo frowned and shut off his phone after not receiving another message for a few minutes. He felt like he made a mistake in asking. It’d gotten awkward. Myungsoo looked back at the picture. Was it weird? Yes, yes it was incredibly weird. Just because Myungsoo found it amusing, it didn’t mean that this person would. And Myungsoo was just mistaken about how well they connected.

To take his mind off things, Myungsoo spent the rest of the afternoon, looking up several recipes for zucchini, and eventually he went to the grocery store to buy ingredients for the dishes that weren’t zucchini.

But maybe Myungsoo made a mistake leaving when he did because Myungsoo he ran into him again, Woohyun. And it was awkward. They both just stiffly nodded to each other and then went down different aisles.

However, that separation didn’t last for very long. They both ran into each other a few minutes later, while looking for ramyun. But it was less awkward this time. Woohyun appeared to be amused and was the first to speak, “Hello again.”

“Hello,” Myungsoo greeted right back.

“Thanks again for helping me out last time,” Woohyun said as he pulled a few packages from the shelf and tossed them into his cart.

Myungsoo did the same and replied, “No problem. How are things with…that guy?”

“Good,” Woohyun answered with a tenuous smile on his face. “Still broken up, so that’s good.” Something was telling Myungsoo that it was a first for Woohyun. After all, there was probably a reason why Jinsang didn’t look that upset at the wedding. This was probably the longest that they’ve ever stayed ‘broken up.’

“Good,” Myungsoo repeated. “Well, good luck,” he told the other as he walked past to get some other vegetables that weren’t giant-sized.

Woohyun chuckled and muttered a “Thanks” before Myungsoo had gone.

But he wasn’t gone from the other for long. They met again for the third time, this time by the fruits. And this time, Myungsoo spoke first with a simple “Hey.”

Woohyun muttered “Hey” right back, but then he kept shooting glances at the other, acting as if he wanted to say something. But he never did.

“I’m not following you, I promise,” Myungsoo guessed at what the other was going to say.

Woohyun shook his head fervently. “I wasn’t thinking that. I was just wondering…” his voice dropped.

“What?” Myungsoo prompted him.

“What can you make with zucchini?” Woohyun finally asked. ”I got some and I want to make something, for my mom. Something different.”

Myungsoo snorted. What were the odds? He knew more recipes for zucchini now than ever before. But also what were the odds of them running into each other so many times?

Woohyun was confused that his question was met with a laugh, but Myungsoo tried to make the other overlook that with his answer. “You can put it in pasta.”

“Really? What else?” Woohyun seemed really interested.

“Yea,” which made Myungsoo all the more excited. “And sandwiches. Using slices of zucchini instead of bread,” he was talking much faster and louder now than before.

Woohyun raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing the other. “Are you some sort of zucchini expert?” he teased.

“No,” Myungsoo replied with a short chuckle.

“Chef?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, right,” Woohyun muttered remembering that, “You’re a photographer.”

Myungsoo nodded and repeated. “Yea. I’m a photographer.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you at another wedding,” Woohyun joked and then said his goodbyes. And Myungsoo headed for the checkout counter.

After paying for his goods, Myungsoo pulled out his phone. He’d heard it ringing while he was in line.

Unknown: Grill them and put it them on pasta and sandwiches.

Unknown: I like making pancakes from them the best.

Unknown: Muffins too.

Myungsoo smirked as he juggled the bags in his hand so that he could text back. The connection, it was still there, still strong. His friend was probably just busy, and Myungsoo got worked up over nothing. All of his worrying was for naught.

Myungsoo: I was thinking the same thing.

Unknown: Then why did you ask?

Unknown: Why is it so big?

Unknown: Or are you really small?

This, this was the kind of response Myungsoo had been wanting.

Myungsoo: It’s a funny story…

*****

What wasn’t funny was how Myungsoo was feeling right now. It was serious and potentially dangerous. He caught himself wondering if Boni knew a charm to ward off a broken heart because Myungsoo was seriously falling for this guy. Yes, it was a guy. The man had later sent Myungsoo a picture of his hairy legs propped up against a coffee table as a drama that Myungsoo had recommended was playing on the tv behind his feet. However, knowing that really only complicated things because knowing for certain that his friend was a man, Myungsoo also knew that the chances of the man loving him back drastically fell.

And now instead of fantasies, only nightmares filled his mind, thinking of the thousands of ways that this could go wrong. But Myungsoo still couldn’t scare the love out of his heart.

I’ll ask Boni for a charm on Monday.

*****

“I’m sorry, Myungsoo-ssi, but there’s no charm like that,” Boni told him that Monday. “But there is a potion for a broken heart.”

“What is it?” Myungsoo asked desperately, fearing for the worst.

Boni’s smile faltered after seeing the look in the man’s eyes. “Alcohol,” she replied weakly. Myungsoo groaned. He should’ve seen that one coming. Boni put a hand on his shoulder. “If that happens, I’ll take you out drinking. I promise.”

“Thanks, Boni-ssi,” Myungsoo said and then they both departed for their desks, both feeling helpless, which wasn’t good when you worked at a help line. Myungsoo was answering calls with a more tired voice than usual. His manager even reprimanded him for not sounding more “cheerful” and “ready to be assistance.” But how can I help others when I can’t even help myself? Myungsoo thought. His gaze fell down to Onion Buddy. “I hate Mondays too,” he whispered lowly to it.

But right after he said that, the phone in his pocket vibrated. Myungsoo hated Mondays and how fast his heart was racing as he was pulling the phone out of his pocket. It was a picture message of a plate of tonkatsu, slightly messy but still appetizing.

Unknown: I made these for the first time because I felt like it.

Myungsoo must’ve been smiling down at his phone, or something had snuck past his lips without knowing because suddenly, Sungjong was behind his back, peering over his shoulder at the phone. “Did you get another coupon or something?” his neighbor asked. Myungsoo quickly put the phone facedown on his desk, but it was too late. Sungjong had already seen the message. “It really is someone, isn’t it? Who? I won’t tell anybody, especially Sungyeol.”

Myungsoo let out a heavy sigh before spinning around to face Sungjong. “Are you sure you won’t tell Sungyeol?” he asked.

Sungjong put one hand in the air and the other over his heart. “I swear on my life that I won’t tell him,” he promised. He then dropped his hands. “I won’t even tell Boni.”

“Okay,” Myungsoo muttered. He dropped his gaze to his lap. He couldn’t look at the other and admit this; he felt too foolish. “I don’t know who it is,” he confessed slowly. “He sits at this desk after me, and we used to leave notes to each other, but then we started texting.” When he finished, he raised his head to see the younger’s reaction.

Sungjong was confused, frowning and furrowing his eyebrows. He didn’t understand. “Why don’t you just ask for his name? Or you could tell him yours?” he asked. “Isn’t it weird not knowing?”

“If I knew, it wouldn’t be fun,” Myungsoo defended himself, but it did nothing to clear the confusion from Sungjong’s face, although now there was a hint of amusement in his eyes underneath the bowed brows.

“Why not?”

“Because…” Myungsoo paused, hands reaching up in the air to grab the words that his tongue couldn’t find. “The mysteriousness, it’s intriguing, is it not?” he challenged. Sungjong frown melted into a smile as Myungsoo talked, slowly seeing the reason why. And that shift in reaction made Myungsoo more confident to share everything, even if he didn’t know how to put it into words. “It’s like…”

But he couldn’t. Sungjong’s phone rang, and a few seconds later, Myungsoo’s did too. “Hold on to that thought,” Sungjong begged. “We’ll talk later.”

They didn’t talk about it later. An airport in China shut down, which created difficulties for several flights. The whole center was answering call after call after call, until their shifts were done, and they were too tired to talk anymore.

And the next day, Myungsoo met Woohyun again but it wasn’t at a wedding or the grocery store. Myungsoo wished that they didn’t meet like this.

*****

Unknown: I haven’t heard from you all day. Are you busy?

Myungsoo: No, I’m not.

Myungsoo: I just had a really bad day.

Unknown: Do you want to talk about it?

Myungsoo: No

Myungsoo: Not yet.

Myungsoo: Later

*****

Myungsoo didn’t want to accept it, any of it. He didn’t want to accept the phone call from his mother that came during work. He knew it wouldn’t be good news. He didn’t want to accept the few extra hours that his manager gave him to deal with the news. And Myungsoo didn’t want to accept the ride from the taxi driver that took him to the venue. But he had too. And now he had to accept that his favorite teacher had died.

This woman had been more than a teacher to him; she was his life’s mentor. She encouraged him to pursue photography, even thought she knew nothing of it or could evaluate Myungsoo’s work. But she understood his passion for it and had faith that that passion would drive him success eventually. He met with her often. He’d just seen her last week. But then Myungsoo had barely recognized her. The disease had progressed that far along, and so quickly too. She aged years in just a week. And now, no more.

Myungsoo didn’t want to go in just yet. He leaned against the outside of the building, next to the door. He closed his eyes as he hit the back of his head against the wall, ignoring the pain in his head because it did not compare to the pain in his heart. He kept his eyes on the sky, hoping that his tears would stay back. He wasn’t ready to cry, to mourn just yet.

“Oh! Are you taking pictures here too?”

Myungsoo’s head rolled back down, and a few tears escaped his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. His vision was blurry, but he could still clearly see that Woohyun was standing in front of him, dressed in a black suit. “Oh no, no. Of course not,” Myungsoo fervently denied. “I’m here for my…my teacher. She passed away.”

“I have a feeling that I’m here for the same reason,” Woohyun told him as he stepped up the stairs. “She was my neighbor.” He then joined Myungsoo along the wall, but he didn’t meet the other’s gaze. Woohyun’s eyes were fixed on his feet, so Myungsoo settled for looking at the sky again. “It just happened so suddenly didn’t it?” Woohyun remarked. Myungsoo hummed in agreement. That was the best that he could do. “I just saw her the other day walking her dog, and now…”

“She’s gone,” Myungsoo finished for him. He lowered his head again, turning it towards the other. This time, Woohyun was looking back up at him.

“Yea,” Woohyun muttered. “Hey, do you want to go in together?” he spoke the question slowly, apprehensively, probably expecting a ‘no’ as an answer.

But Myungsoo surprised him in responding, “Yea.” And the two of them went inside to pay their respects.

After bowing to the family members, Myungsoo stayed around and talked with some of his former schoolmates, recollecting their favorite memories in her classroom. But eventually, one by one, his schoolmates left. Myungsoo still stayed behind. He wasn’t ready to leave her yet. He didn’t want to leave her for good.

When he was coming out of the bathroom, he ran into Woohyun again in the hallway. “You’re still here?” Myungsoo probably sounded more relieved that he intended too.

“Eung,” Woohyun grunted. “My mom was really close with her, and she’s not doing so well. So…I’m still here,” he finished with a heavy sigh, dragging his hand down his perpetually tired face. “How are you doing?”

“Not good,” Myungsoo answered honestly. “I can’t seem to go, even though I have no reason to stay,” he admitted with a sheepish smile (although it was more like a grimace). He sniffed. His eyes were growing wet again.

“You can stay with me, keep me company,” Woohyun offered. “I’ll be here for awhile.”

“Yea, yea that sounds good,” Myungsoo was glad to accept that.

The two of them stayed out in the hallway, sitting down on the ground with their backs to the wall. And they talked. Myungsoo talked about more than just memories of his teacher in the classroom. He told Woohyun how much she’d meant to him, what a major influence that she was on his life. And Woohyun listened. He listened very well, reacting to everything Myungsoo said and encouraged him to keep going even though some things were hard for him to say. It was so easy for Myungsoo to talk with Woohyun and keep talking. There wasn’t an awkward silence, ending with the both of them trying to escape it. And the conversation wasn’t essentially one-sided. Woohyun too got a chance to tell Myungsoo about how his neighbor was like an aunt to him and tutored him in math although he went to another school. If anything good were to come from this horrible day, it was this.

But even this good thing came to an end. Woohyun’s phone rang. He groaned and hung his head as soon as he heard it. “I hate my job,” he grumbled as he stopped his phone from ringing. “I can’t live a normal life. I can’t even stay here with my mom for long,” he said and his eyes darted over to the room where his mother was still mourning. Woohyun then shut his eyes tightly and groaned again. “I want to quit.”

“Why don’t you?” Myungsoo asked. “Money?” it might’ve been a sensitive topic, but Myungsoo felt okay breeching it with Woohyun. They’ve already bared so much to each other.

And Woohyun wasn’t even a bit offended and replied honestly, “Money, yes. I need money. Lots of it.”

“Are you in debt?” Myungsoo guessed. He then winced. Okay, that might’ve been too sensitive. “Oh sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“But I am,” Woohyun admitted with a laugh of disbelief. “I have debts. I have debts and a dream, so I can’t quit.” He then pulled himself up from the ground. “I have to go.” He patted Myungsoo’s shoulder. “Take care. I’ll see you around.”

“See you,” Myungsoo said back, giving the other a short wave.

I’ll see you around? Myungsoo sputtered into a short laugh as he got up from the ground himself. Sure, why not? He’d run into Woohyun so many times recently. Who’s to say that it wouldn’t happen again? And honestly, Myungsoo wanted to run into Woohyun again. Woohyun, he was nice and handsome, even with his swollen face and panda eyes. Myungsoo had probably seen Woohyun at his worst, and he still thought he was good looking. Myungsoo was attracted to him, and it seemed like the attraction was mutual. Or at least he hoped it was.

But…but then there was the guy, Myungsoo’s secret friend that he’d been messaging for the last couple of months. He already had an emotional connection with that guy. And Myungsoo felt slightly guilty for considering Woohyun, even though he and his friend might never meet, even though his friend probably didn’t return his feelings.

Woohyun was definitely the safer option. He was single, honest, and tangible. Unfortunately, Myungsoo couldn’t say the same for his friend, not for sure.

It’s okay to like Woohyun, isn’t it? There’s no reason why I can’t.

*****

Unknown: How are you feeling today?

Myungsoo: Better.

Myungsoo: I talked to someone about it.

Unknown: Heol. Are you replacing me?

Myungsoo jolted upright in his seat. He cautiously glanced over at Sungjong who was busy with a call. Slowly, Myungsoo slipped out of his desk and went into the break room. There, he stared at his phone, chewing on the pad of his thumb.

“Are you replacing me?” What was that supposed to mean? Myungsoo felt anger bubbling up inside of him, resentment washing over him. “Am I not allowed to?” Myungsoo muttered below his breath. “What exactly would I be replacing? This is all your fault!” He then closed his eyes, throwing his head back as he groaned. No, it was his fault too. Myungsoo’s identity was just as much of a secret from the other as his was from Myungsoo. He was also partially the reason why they never met, might never meet. As much as they talked to each other, the both of them were still very guarded when it came to personal matters. And now their little game wasn’t fun or romantic. It was just frustrating.

So Myungsoo was going to put an end to it.

It took him several tries to type it out, to find the right wording, to gather enough courage to press send, but he eventually did.

Myungsoo: Fine. Then let’s talk about it. In person.

Myungsoo: Let’s finally meet.

*****

Myungsoo didn’t get an answer for the rest of his shift. His phone was silent, still. Well, I guess this is how it ends, Myungsoo thought as he was packing up at the end of his shift. When he was done, he walked over to Boni’s desk. “If your offer for drinks still stands, I’d like to take you up on it,” he told her.

She’d just finished clearing her own desk and hoisted her heavy bag onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that it didn’t go well, Myungsoo-ssi,” Boni spoke sweetly. “Let’s go.”

“Are you guys going out?” Sungyeol popped up next to their side. “I’m coming too! Let’s go! Let’s go! Sungjong-ssi! Are you going to come too?”

Myungsoo was grateful to have made these friends. It not only made his work easier but also his life too. Drinking with his friends was definitely the best way to soothe a breaking heart. He was also grateful than Boni was paying for him. He’d left his wallet back in the office.

As Myungsoo was walking back from dinner with a stomach full of food and drink and a head filled with white noise, Myungsoo checked his phone again. He had finally received a message from his ‘friend,’ but it was only a picture of the wallet he’d left behind.

Myungsoo: Yes, that’s mine. Please don’t take my money.

He hiccupped as he sent it. The other had already taken so much from him, his thoughts, his heart. The thief didn’t need to take his money too.

But his money wasn’t what the other had taken from the wallet. Another picture was flew into Myungsoo’s inbox. It was of his I.D..

Unknown: Kim Myungsoo? That’s you?

Myungsoo: Eung.

Unknown: The photographer Kim Myungsoo?

Myungsoo stopped in his step and looked about him. Is he here? “No, no, no, he’s still at work,” Myungsoo tried to reassure his freaked out self, but it did little to calm his heart. All he could text back was a shortened version of…

Myungsoo: Eung.

Unknown: We’ve already met!

“Really? When?” Myungsoo blinked crazily at his phone, making sure that he was reading correctly. He texted the same questions to the other. This sudden turn of events was quickly sobering him up. He needed a clear mind for this, especially since the other responded with:

Unknown: Guess!

Thinking back to the last time Myungsoo had met several strangers at once, which was hard because his mind was still sluggish, he concluded that it had to be…

Myungsoo: At a wedding?

Unknown: Yup! Keep guessing. Who am I?

Myungsoo needed to sit down for this. He stopped outside of a convenience store and sat down at one of the tables there. He placed the phone on the table as he rubbed his head in his hands, trying to clear it. His first wedding was mostly older folk and children, aside from the bride and groom (and him), so Myungsoo guessed:

Myungsoo: Were you at that wedding? Jang Dongwoo’s?

Unknown: Yes! You’re getting warmer.

Myungsoo pulled at his lips with his thumbs. Could it really be? He was too afraid to ask, too afraid to text. So he didn’t. And this time his friend was fed up with waiting.

Unknown: Are you giving up?

Unknown: It’s me!

A selca was attached to the message. And just like before, Myungsoo had to blink several times in order to believe his eyes. “What? No way!” he blurted out once the realization sunk in, too loudly too. People around him turned around to look at him, but Myungsoo’s eyes were only on one thing, the selca of Woohyun with Onion Buddy. Myungsoo closed out of the messages. He needed further confirmation of this. Just seeing Woohyun at his desk wasn’t enough. He had to hear it too. So Myungsoo called him, and the other answered within two rings. “Hello,” his friend answered with a slight chuckle. Myungsoo relaxed. The voice sounded a bit different over the phone, but it sounded like him.

“Woohyun-ssi?” Myungsoo called his friend by name for the first time.

“Correct!” Woohyun exclaimed. “Wait hold on, let me go to the break room,” he muttered quickly, and Myungsoo could hear cluttering in the background as Woohyun got up.

“Take your time,” Myungsoo slurred a bit. He pulled the phone away and cleared his throat, regretting how much he drank, but how was he supposed to know that this would happen. He stretched his mouth a few times before putting the phone back to his ear. And when he did, Woohyun’s deep chuckle echoed through his ear. It tickled.

“Woah, I can’t believe it. This is crazy, isn’t it, Myungsoo-ssi? Who would’ve thought? This is like fate, right? I mean, not like fate, but it’s something, right? Myungsoo-ssi?” Woohyun rambled on, and Myungsoo was still in a daze and was barely following along. But at the sound of his name, he mumbled an ‘um yea’ through his smiling lips. Woohyun laughed and continued, “I’m sorry for not answering earlier. You sounded angry. Are you angry? I didn’t want to meet with someone who could be angry enough to kill me. I mean, we didn’t really know each other and…you sounded mad…”

We didn’t really know each other, that statement sent the wheels in Myungsoo’s mind spinning. We didn’t but we do now. Myungsoo interrupted the other, “Let’s meet.” There was no reason for them not to anymore.

Woohyun was slightly taken aback by the sudden suggestion but still sputtered out, “Oh, okay. Um, where?”

*****

There weren’t many places open after Woohyun’s shift, but Myungsoo found a café close to their workplace and suggested that they met there. Woohyun a sent back a text.

Unknown: Great! I’ll see you soon.

Myungsoo smirked as he looked at the phone. His thumb skimmed over the name “unknown’ and the top of the screen. “Bye bye,” he whispered to it under his breath as he changed the contact information, officially adding Woohyun to his phone and even set Woohyun’s selca with Onion Buddy as his ID photo. When he was done, Myungsoo closed his phone and slunk down in his chair, shutting his eyes. He was almost sober now, but still hazy, tired. However, Woohyun would be here soon, at the café. A grin pulled across his face. This was shaping up to be better than all of his fantasies.

“This is yours.”

Myungsoo heard Woohyun before he saw him, felt him too. Woohyun had placed a hand on his shoulder briefly and then let it slid down. Myungsoo snapped his eyes wide open and saw the wallet dangling in front of his face. “Thank you,” he chirped as he took the wallet. He then finally saw Woohyun, walking over to the other side of the table and sitting down, wearing a grin as the one tearing Myungsoo’s face right now. He stared at Woohyun and then down to his wallet, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it.”

“What?” Woohyun asked with a laugh.

“It was you. That we share the desk. Ah, daebak!” Myungsoo exclaimed, rapidly blinking his eyes again. This was real. This was really happening. And that was really starting to sink into Myungsoo. The whole time, it was you! I liked you, got angry at you. This whole time, it’s always been you! “Ah daebak!” he repeated.

“Daebak,” Woohyun mimicked him and kept chuckling. Myungsoo noticed how silly he was acting and cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down. It wasn’t working. His heart was only racing faster now and his skin grew hot from embarrassment. “Are you really that happy that it turned out to be me?” Woohyun asked.

“Yea,” Myungsoo answered honestly and quickly, more quickly than Woohyun had expected. Woohyun muttered a surprised ‘oh’ and dropped his eyes to the table, his smile growing wider. Myungsoo propped his elbows on the table and rest his head in his hands as he watched the other carefully. “How about you? Are you happy? That it’s me?” he turned the question around.

Woohyun lifted his head up again, meeting the other’s gaze. “I guess,” he replied. Myungsoo frowned, which made Woohyun laugh. “Yes, I am. I’m really happy.”

Although they wanted to talk for much longer, the both of them could only last for an hour. Myungsoo was practically falling asleep on his table. At some point in time, he’d laid it on there as he was talking with Woohyun, and Woohyun did the same. They were whispering to each other and ignored their coffee that was growing colder and colder as the conversation went on. Woohyun was the one that said that they should leave. But before they both departed, he’d suggested that they meet this weekend and Myungsoo agreed. Then they separated.

They didn’t text each other much for the rest of the week, and whenever they did, the talked about their meeting coming up this weekend. And when the weekend came, they spent Saturday together. They watched a movie and a few shows. They cooked together, ate together, and drank together. And of course, they talked. But then Myungsoo went home in the end, hugging the other tightly before he left.

On Sunday, they had lunch at Myungsoo’s favorite place, but that was it. Myungsoo, however, was disappointed by it all. No, in fact, he was comforted by it. The both of them were taking it seriously, taking it slow, testing the waters before diving in. Woohyun had just dragged himself out of a bad relationship and was still struggling to escape the Jinsang-undertow (Myungsoo was helping a lot with that. He was Woohyun’s life raft).

And as for Myungsoo, as many times as Myungsoo ‘met’ Woohyun and talked to him, he honestly didn’t feel like he knew about the ‘real’ Woohyun. It was more like Myungsoo caught glimpses of the ‘real’ him. And now, Myungsoo was scrambling to thread those glimpses together to form the whole picture.

Through the notes and text messages, Woohyun seemed to have an answer for everything but…“What can you make with zucchini?” Myungsoo recalled the elder asking him before later texting back Myungsoo with the answer he’d given him. Woohyun didn’t know everything. He just had less shame in asking other people for advice. Now that didn’t mean that Woohyun didn’t know anything, just not everything. And Myungsoo liked him better for it. It made Woohyun seem more human, more real.

Written messages also can’t convey tone very well. Woohyun wasn’t nearly half as serious as he sounded at times. That wasn’t only in reference to him making more jokes than Myungsoo was aware of, but Woohyun also wasn’t as confident as he sounded either. In person, Myungsoo could see Woohyun’s darting eyes, analyzing Myungsoo’s reaction and everyone else’s, whoever could be listening in on them at that moment. And Myungsoo could hear it too, Woohyun’s chuckling undercutting every cocky statement he spoke. But most of all, Myungsoo could feel Woohyun, how the elder would brush his fingers tentatively against Myungsoo’s hand before holding it firmly and warmly

Finally, the Woohyun that Myungsoo had met at the weddings and funeral, those were only glimpses as well. And he’d thought that Woohyun had been a real mess, like when he assumed that Woohyun had been drunk at his cousin’s wedding. But in reality, Woohyun was just tired and was more pulled together than he seemed. He was working hard in the night so that he could help to pay off his family’s debts and so that he could work towards his dream of opening a second location of his family’s restaurant and running it himself. And he was nearly there.

With each strand of Woohyun that he was pulling and twisting together, Myungsoo was really starting to like what he was seeing. And he was now more than okay with falling in love with this man.

Woohyun was also starting to piece together the ‘real’ Myungsoo too. “You’re different than I thought you’d be,” he whispered to the other when they were at the café, and he didn’t stop telling Myungsoo that every time that they met since. First, for how shy Myungsoo would act at times, Woohyun was surprised by how forward Myungsoo was with skinship. And perhaps Myungsoo hugging closely to Woohyun while they watched dramas was a bit too forward, but Woohyun didn’t push him away. No, he leaned into Myungsoo instead. Second, Woohyun was very impressed by Myungsoo, by how hard working he was, by how passionate he was not only for photography but life in general. Third, Woohyun also told Myungsoo that he found him charming and caring, but also incredibly silly. “I don’t know how someone with your face could do something like that,” he’d say (in jest) when Myungsoo would do something silly, like tripping over his own two feet. But he found Myungsoo cute. He wouldn’t say it (all the time), but Myungsoo could feel it in his gaze. He liked the way Woohyun would look at him. It made him feel precious.

Myungsoo watched Woohyun as pulled ingredients out of his cupboard. Myungsoo had suddenly said that he was craving fried rice, and Woohyun said he’d make him some. “It’s one of my best dishes,” he bragged as he pulled some eggs out of the fridge, but then he dropped one. It smashed onto the ground. “.”

Myungsoo laughed. “Let me help you clean that up,” he offered as he grabbed a rag nearby and crouched down onto the floor where Woohyun already was, gathering broken eggshells. Myungsoo dragged the rag lazily along the floor, mopping the mess up, but he stopped soon after he started. He’d gotten distracted.

“It makes me a bit nervous when you stare at me like that,” Woohyun remarked after quickly glancing up and had caught the other staring at him.

“Oh, sorry,” Myungsoo mumbled as he stood back up.

Woohyun followed him. “Don’t be,” he muttered and walked over to toss the shells away. He then look at Myungsoo, giving him a tight grin before explaining, “It makes me nervous because I don’t know what you’re thinking. I mean, I could guess, but…” his voice fell away and he walked closer to Myungsoo. “What are you thinking about, Myungsoo?” Woohyun asked, his eyes trying to catch the other’s gaze. And then they met.

Suddenly Myungsoo was reminded of Woohyun’s cousin and her husband and how they acted together. Right now, at this moment, Woohyun was staring back at him in the similar way. It was a bit different. Also in his eyes was a shade of sadness, as if he were aware that all of this was fleeting and he was struggling to take it all in and to treasure it all. Myungsoo wanted to hold that gaze for a moment longer, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t fit down the urge to close his eyes, wrap his hand around the nape of Woohyun’s neck, and pull him in for a kiss. I’m not fleeting. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t be sad, Myungsoo tried to say all of that with his kiss, but perhaps what assured Woohyun the most was when he pulled back and said, “I like you.”

“Me too. I like you,” Woohyun whispered back and he pecked the other’s lips. “So that’s why you were looking at me? Because you like me?” Woohyun .

“Yes,” Myungsoo replied within a heartbeat. He tilted his head to look at the other from another angle (and Woohyun was perfectly loveable from that angle too). “Why? Do you not like it?”

“No,” Woohyun answered as quickly as Myungsoo usually did. “I love it.” He then wrapped his arms around Myungsoo and kissed him again. And this was truly better than any fantasy or drama. This was real.

And it was at that moment when Myungsoo realized that all of his hopes for Woohyun came true. Woohyun did end up finding someone better. Woohyun found him.