Jiyong stepped into Sudsy Magic, a laundromat, with his beat-up sneakered feet planting on top of a spotless sea green Welcome! mat. The tiny bell on the door announced his entrance, and he grimaced. A girl immediately came rushing out of a door from behind the counter, and he held back his breath.

    “Hello welcome to Sudsy Magic! How may I help you?”

    She had on a simple pink collared top that had the laundromat logo with color matching the doormat. Jiyong stood there, motionless, his mouth opening and closing. The girl’s smile only brightened, in fact she practically glowed in his eyes.

    “Sir are you here to drop off or pick up your laundry?”

    “N-No I just came here to check them.”  

    He stuttered.

    “Ok, just let me know if you need help.”

    Jiyong awkwardly nodded and lengthened his steps as he sought the back end of the store. He breathed in the clean, light citrusy scent of laundry detergent in the air, sighing out loudly as he sat down on a bench along the aisle.

    None of the clothes on the laundry machines belonged to him.

    He checked his phone and read one message from Youngbae telling him to go meet him in the “studio”—the studio being an abandoned building in the outskirts of the city where their crew hung out, claiming it as theirs. He didn’t reply back, a sign that he had other plans, and one that Youngbae will get him for later.

    What can he do? He liked his freedom, he liked to explore, and take whatever chance there is in front of him. Most days he’ll be in some corner of the city seeing people, taking in new things. Youngbae warned him that he needed to stick with his crew, be grounded, but none of that appealed to him. Even the few times he’d dated he never seemed to be able to hold onto them for long, citing his lack of caring, not understanding how he never fully devoted his time to them. One time he flatly said it was because she was not interesting enough and that she was too loud, needless to say that had been his last relationship—well over a year ago.

    Jiyong’s currently skipping school, his attention having been pulled into the pink and green laundromat that for some reason he was compelled to enter. He had been walking a new route, taking random turns and going down unfamiliar alleyways until he managed to get to where he is now: sitting on a bench, phone at hand, and looking behind his shoulders to catch a glimpse of the beauty on the counter. He found his reason.

    Not once in his eighteen years of life has he ever felt any semblance to having a crush, but from what he knew from all the typical dramas and love songs that he’s seen and heard, this feeling in him must be it.

    It hadn’t even been one minute until he was inspired enough to write lyrics about his newfound muse, excitedly scribbling poetry on a notepad adorned with coffee and grease stains. When he got stuck on the words he’d simply look at her by the counter, listening to music, and wait… was she singing and dancing?

    Jiyong took deep breaths, his heart pounding in his chest.

    “I just wanna kiss, I never wanna miss!”

    Everything about her was bubbly and carefree, and her little performance projected that. He couldn’t take his eyes of her and she glanced at his direction as she turned in the beat of the music. Jiyong hurriedly looked down at his paper, pretending to not have just stared blatantly at the girl. His ears were red, and he just knew that she must be holding back from laughing.

    Five, ten, then thirty minutes flew by, and he honestly was stumped. The laundry in front of him had been circling round and round from inside the clear glass pane, and as he observed it offhandedly he was able to make out his reflection. He was caught in a trance, able to relax a bit and was twirling the pencil in his fingers in the midst of a rhyme.

    Suddenly the buzzer rang signifying the completion of the drying process, and it stopped. He heard the girl walking nearer, and there goes his composure. In an effort to look less slack he jerked his knees up and sent the notepad on the floor just when she stepped into view. Now Jiyong was quite agile, having been a hip-hop dancer for most of his life, but at this very moment he might as well have had the capacity of a stumbling fawn when he reached down to grab the fallen object. It turned out that she was grabbing for it too, and the collision between the two was inevitable. They bumped heads, and Jiyong’s whole body flared up in temperature just by the awkward contact.

    “Oh I am so sorry! Are you ok sir?” The girl was anxious, afraid that she’d offended a customer, and was way too close to him as she assessed his nonexistent injuries. Jiyong was internally coming apart as her delicate fingers brushed against his forehead.

    “Uh, well it’s nothing. It’s my fault.”  The natural, easy-going confidence he exudes most of the time was nowhere, a whole new set of chemistry and emotions recalibrating him that he found exhilarating, equally unnerving.

    She smiled, a most beautiful smile that could only be likened to a warm ray of sunlight. His whole body burned.

    “You’re so cute! Are these your clothes?” She turned around then, hamper by her hip as she retrieved the clothes from the dryer.

    “No, those aren’t mine” was all he could reply.

    “Are you skipping school?”

    Jiyong’s eyes widened at her accurate assumption. He started shifting his weight from one foot to the next, a movement he adopts when on the defensive. It didn’t seem like she was chiding, her hands folding the clothes in minute ease. He relaxed a bit.

    “Nothing for me in there that I can’t experience for myself.”

    She hummed lightly—approvingly?  “You remind me of my younger brother… He doesn’t like school either.”

    “How old is he?”

    “He’s 18.”

    He had figured in the back of his mind that maybe she was older than him, but nonetheless he was slightly taken aback. She didn’t look a day over 16.

    “Are you a model?”

    He moved closer besides her, not wanting to miss any of her expressions. She looked at him from her folding, her cheeks pink.

    Adorable

    “No, but I want to be a singer.”

    “You have the aura for it.”  Silently he took a shirt and folded it, helping her in her task.

    “Thanks, um what’s your name?”

    “My name’s Jiyong, but I go by G-Dragon or GD for short on stage. What’s yours miss?”

    She perked up at the mention of his unique stage name.  “On stage? What type of performer are you? Oh, and I’m Dara nice to meet you!”

    Jiyong felt soft hands clasp around his own, and he never wanted to let go.  

    “I dance, and I rap sometimes. I mostly compose songs though.”

    Dara was fully focused on him now, her eyes gleaming.

    “That’s so cool! Can you show me, that is if you want.”

    GD nodded, taking a step back and easily demonstrating some popping moves, along with some basic breakdancing that is limited by the space around him. Dara was clapping excitedly throughout, impressed by his skilled display. Having released his tension through the honed movements, his face began to reflect hers, increasingly wanting to incite more happiness from her. It was something groundbreaking then, to be able to feel ecstatic just as the other person besides him.

    “That’s amazing! You’re really good, can you teach me?”

    He smiled, heart beating quicker from her compliment.

    “I’ll teach you, if you agree to hang out with me.”

    Her excitement didn’t diminish and she didn’t even hesitate for a second as she agreed to his proposal.

    “Ok! My shift ends soon anyway, now I’m just waiting till my co-worker arrives.”

    Dara gathered the folded clothes and went back to the counter with Jiyong following behind her. He mentally cheered himself for his luck at getting to go out with her in one try.

    “Minzy should be here in like five minutes. Do you want to hear me sing?”

    Jiyong was about to tell her that he’d been listening to her sing before and that it was pure sugar in his ears, but he didn’t want to sound too forward, and so he just nodded as casually as he could. She smiled and she sung for him from the beginning, and Jiyong thought he couldn’t fall in love even more. It was like the song was exactly made for her.

    “Who do you want to kiss? Perhaps me?” Jiyong teased, inspired by the lyrics she just sung.

    Dara playfully glared at his teasing, although he detected a hint of a blush dusting her cheeks. His brief confidence wavered at the sight, it was like every little thing she did affected him.

    “Maybe in ten years lover boy!”

    Now it was his turn to blush, and he could only release an amused chuckle to cover up his embarrassment.

    Just in time, Minzy arrived—the tiny bell on top ringing—and she eyed Jiyong with slight suspicion.

    “Didn’t know you liked the rebel type, unnie.”

    Dara just quickly shushed her and disappeared on the back to grab her things. Meanwhile Jiyong was left on the front, feeling nervous as he tapped his fingers along the countertop. There was an air of tension between him and Minzy for a few seconds, but then the silence was abruptly filled with her high-pitch squealing.

    “Wait! Your GD! Oh my gosh I am your biggest fan! It’s my dream to be in your dance crew! Can I take a picture with you?”

    Jiyong, who was pleasantly surprised at hearing her admiration, had no choice but to comply to his newfound fan as she took about a dozen pictures of him in her phone. Jiyong asked her what type of dance she specialized in, and rather than explain it to him she performed to him with honestly what he could say as one of the fiercest and charismatic confidence he’d ever seen. Not a lot of dancers have the natural aura that radiated off them as much as she does.

    “Minzy’s quite the triple threat!” Dara proclaimed and he wholeheartedly agreed, giving Minzy Youngbae’s personal number.

    “Call him and say you got it from me. He’ll be impressed by you.”  

    She thanked him profusely and insisted on one last selca of himself on her phone.

    Once they left the laundromat, Dara giggled by his side.

    “Didn’t know that I had a celebrity asking me out!”

    Jiyong shrugged, kicking a rock by the sidewalk. He tends to shrink a little at compliments and recognition. It wasn’t because he disliked them, merely that it was something that he’d worked hard for, so it wasn’t necessary in his opinion.

    “I’m really not someone famous. It’s just my hobby.”

    “So what do you really want to be?” Dara earnestly questioned.

    “I really don’t know yet. I like to wander and do a lot more stuff.”

    He started walking to the direction of a coffee shop that sold delicious pastries and mixed beverages that weren’t overpriced. She walked in sync with his steps.

    “So miss are you in college, or?” Jiyong steered the conversation to her. She caught his interest wholly, and he wanted to know anything about her.

    “I’m taking a break in college, because I really want to pursue singing. I’ve moved out my parent’s house and currently trying to save up some money for a vocal coach. It hasn’t been easy, and this is already my third part-time job.”

    It was then that Jiyong did notice the small creases on her youthful skin, indicating the stresses that she has accumulated.

    “I have a couple of friends who sings professionally and can teach you a thing or two if you want, and I’ll be teaching you how to dance after a cup of coffee.”

    She smiled so brightly at him that it left him feeling dazed.

    “I’ll hold you to that!”

    His lips quirked up at the side. He started noticing the patterns: how he’d mirror her moods, and how he’d feel so breathless at times without even doing anything but stare at her.

    “I’ll pay for the coffee, my treat.”

    Soon they arrived at their destination, and then they had their coffee—a sweet vanilla frappe for her, and iced latte for him—the two of them getting to a comfortable pace of conversation that lead them closer to each other bit by bit. All the assumptions he made in his head were entirely true as she continued to speak and show more of herself; simply that she was as pure and bright as the sun itself. Their coffee-tinged conversation lasted for close to three hours, the both of them losing track of time, until they had to part ways with an exchange of their numbers, and a promise to meet again the very next day. Although she did (rather sternly) warn him not to miss school tomorrow.

    As he made his way to Youngbae’s base, Jiyong couldn’t help but grin widely, throwing his head back and looking up at the clear, sunny sky above. Oh was he glad that he had taken a different route that day, and meet an angel from the laundromat.