Taeyoung zips across the cold autumn streets of Busan on his rusty bike. His hood falls back after a tight swerve as he tries to dodge a rattling truck, and his black hair ruffles against the chilly breeze, falling into his eyes.

It’s a cold night.

He makes a few more turns around the blocks and the deserted roads, squinting his eyes against the freezing wind. It is dangerous to be out alone on such a night, but Taeyoung is more than desperate.

One last turn and he’s in front of the brightly lit, warm and inviting convenience store.

He hears angels sing as he pushes the door open, ducking his head slightly. His bike lays haphazardly by the road side, but it’s safe. It isn’t worth more than a party hat, hardly worth stealing.

Taeyoung is the only one in the convenience store, not a surprise since it’s 3am. The cashier, a lanky noodle-like dude, is playing Candy Crush on his smart phone. Once in a while, Taeyoung hears the “Ding” of him hitting a combo.

He heads straight to the back of the store, and practically sweeps half the rack worth of snacks down into his arms. A poor college student needs to survive.

He has been rushing papers all of last week and hasn’t slept for three days. It’s time for a glucose boost.

He carries this all over to the counter and dumps it, and the lanky noodle as a cashier looks up at him for a fraction of a second.

“Paying by cash?”

Startled, Taeyoung drops a packet of Oreos.

“Oh,” he clears he throat, “no. I mean yes. I’ll pay by cash, but I’m not really done yet.”

Taeyoung mentally slaps himself; He’s a cashier: there’s no reason to freak.

He can still feel the tip of his ears burning, and he stumbles a little on the way to get more junk food.

The bell on the door chimes. Someone else is here.

Taeyoung looks up at the CCTV screen that shows all corners of the convenience store. A couple of boys in their highschool uniform enter, and suddenly the convenience store is filled with their chatters.

Ah, youth.

“Ahjumma, my card isn’t… it isn’t working?”

He frantically swipes his card on the machine again, but it only beeps lazily at him with a blinking red light.

“Boy, there’s no money in that card, stop trying. Move along, there’s a queue behind you.”

Taeyoung’s breath catches in his throat, and he walks away with his head down. He can still hear the whispers of his classmates down the hallway, following him throughout his entire highschool life.

His hand halts over a bowl of ramyeon as he was caught momentarily in the memories o