As expected, Monday rolls around and he meets Wonwoo first thing when he gets in at 8:30 for prep. Wonwoo looks stoic, but his smile warms him up nicely; maybe Joshua has a habit of hiring pretty boys. Wonwoo is kind of lanky and thin but has chiseled features that would nudge you to double-take if you met him in the streets. After being questioned as to why he came to work in town from the city, he simply responds that his significant other works a moderate drive down the road in one of the open commercial buildings in a shopping plaza and that his commute to visit from the city was too long and cumbersome for the frequency they’d liked to meet up.

         Joshua quips about Wonwoo making a bold move to live together, to which Wonwoo shrugs and says that they’ve been dating for the better part of the last five years and that for one of them to move was inevitable. Since Wonwoo’s job transfer was guaranteed and paid better than his partner, he was a prime candidate to relocate.

         “Moving is a hassle, you must be exhausted.” Mingyu remembers moving for his master’s studies a few years ago. Since he’s the type to keep a lot of little trinkets and ‘junk’, moving was indeed a big hassle, especially since he wanted to make sure that nothing got lost in the move (which it so often does). Aside from that, he’d never really moved. When he came back to town, he moved into a one-bedroom apartment a fifteen-minute drive from work. His parents decided to retire near the coast where his mom transferred for her managerial job and his dad spent his days before retirement overlooking the beach and playing the stock market. Things had gotten better since high school. Money wasn’t tight any longer, but he was still hellbent on repaying them for his education on top of his student loans.

         “It wasn’t too bad. Soonyoung is probably stronger than I am, so all the boxes weren’t horrible.” It somehow seems expected that Wonwoo would date someone physically stronger than he was. He just gives the impression to be the type. The Sunyoung Mingyu knows is tiny, but packs a punch. She’s peppy and bright, just like Wonwoo’s Soonyoung.

         “Are you engaged?” Joshua asks, spying the silver band on Wonwoo’s finger.

         “Oh no, not yet.” If Mingyu paid more attention, he could see that the older man was a bit flustered, spinning the ring on his pinky with his thumb, “Promise rings, you know. Soonyoung really likes stars.” He holds out his hand to show off the silver band with two stars stamped into the metal, one set with turquoise and one set with ruby.

         “Soonyoung has good taste, it’s cute.” Mingyu makes that statement before they part ways and officially open for the day. He’s always apprehensive of people that are way too attached to their significant others, but Wonwoo seems nice. It’ll definitely be a different dynamic than working with Jeonghan, but he’s welcome company for now.

         Tuesday is much less awkward with Wonwoo bringing in cookies. Well, ‘cookies’.

         “Look, Soonyoung wanted to make sure I got a warm welcome at work, so, ta-dah, cookies. You might need to get your stomach pumped, but I brought them anyway. Please don’t feel obligated to consume them.” Mingyu smiles at the sweet gesture. They’re clearly made from store-bought cookie dough—not even boxed mix—and they’re terribly shaped and burnt on the bottom, but he and Joshua are polite and take a cookie each. They aren’t going to tell Wonwoo that they end up in the trash after he goes in for his first appointment.

         “Those were bad.” Joshua wheezes exaggeratedly after spitting into a napkin. Mingyu just laughs. His cookies could easily put Soonyoung’s to shame, but he’s not going to tell Wonwoo that.

         “They weren’t that bad.”

         Joshua gives him a pointed look, knowing that he’s lying through his teeth before shaking his head and picking up a phone call, “Hello, oh yes, we can reschedule for the 14^th. That’s not a problem…”

         Nothing’s ever a problem. Joshua’s just extremely good at handling clients; good-natured and surprisingly easy-going for a manager. It’s a small clinic, that’s obvious, considering they only have two or three PT’s on staff on any given day. Mingyu works most weekdays, he keeps his weekends open and occasionally takes Tuesdays off if the schedule works out like such. If Wonwoo’s replacing Jeonghan for the month, he’ll probably just take over his hours; Monday thru Thursday. He’ll likely get the full 9 to 5:30 that Joshua works. The other PT that works afternoons, Seokmin, is wrapping up his master’s studies and Mingyu rarely sees him since he’s usually out for lunch when he comes in and their appointments keep them busy after that.

         Wednesday is full of banter because Mingyu brings in macarons that he couldn’t help but make after Wonwoo’s unfortunate cookie delivery yesterday. They’re time consuming and require some technical skill, but it’s not like Mingyu has anything else to do in his free time since he only works part time. He makes enough so all the staff can have some with a few to spare for the patients that come in today. The custodian is especially happy about them, saying something about Mingyu outdoing himself time and time again with the baked goods he brings in to share. “I’m pretty sure these are full of .” He states, thankfully well before any clients come in. Mingyu gives him a few to take home to his wife and kids.

         Wonwoo makes some remark about Mingyu trying to one-up Soonyoung and that they might have to resort to fisticuffs after work which is a joke that Joshua won’t drop for the rest of the day, even telling a longer-standing patient, Jongin, that the two might start brawling at any moment. He even goes so far as to start a cookie-jar voting system at the front desk where patients can drop their receipts into either Mingyu or Wonwoo’s jar with a bold ‘Who would win in a fistfight?’ sign taped under the counter.

         It’s hard to tell who gets more votes. At first glance, it’s Mingyu, but most of the receipts in Wonwoo’s jar are crumbled up which will make the count unofficial until Joshua decides to go through the votes next week. It was decided without them that the loser would bring in doughnuts the following morning from DonutBoo, the best doughnut shop in town that required you to get up at -o’clock in the morning just to beat the lines and get a fresh batch. That’s one pastry place that Mingyu can’t beat. No one can beat Mama Boo’s homemade doughnuts. No one.

         He remembers when the place opened about a decade ago when he was still in high school. Damn. A decade. That sounds way longer than it actually feels. It was all the rage with the teens as her son had attended the only other high school in town and often worked there on weekends. Mingyu remembers him as a spritely boy with round cheeks and honey-colored hair. He’s not sure where he is now, maybe he took over the family business. He hasn’t been to DonutBoo in a long time. He knows that Minghao and his troupe of b-boys would often stop by the downtown shop after practice sometime around 5 or 6 when Mingyu would finish his own sport practices and make his way to a nearby Starbucks to work on homework before going home. They usually wouldn’t hangout long. Mingyu wouldn’t even get through his first assignment before the boys went home. Although, there were times that Minghao would stay and chat with Mama Boo’s son if he came in to close up shop with his parents. It seemed like they hit it off and became friends despite the high school rivalry.

         That friendliness scored Minghao more than a few free doughnuts.

         Fatefully, Thursday rolls around and Minghao shows up at the front desk.

         Mingyu sees him after walking his last patient out and makes a b-line for the bathroom just because he feels a crippling cringe sneaking up his spine. He at least thinks it’s Minghao. It’s the right time for it to be Minghao, his appointment is in ten minutes. The image that comes to mind of Minghao is of him in the cafeteria with a black sweater and his bangs in his eyes. It was the fashion at the time, he guesses. He was always curious how he could see with his hair in the way, but it looks like he’s since cut it. Of course he would, that was ten years ago.

         It was ten years ago. It’s no big deal. Ten years. Ten years. Ten years. A decade. There’s nothing to worry about.

         “Good afternoon, Minghao, Jeonghan is actually on vacation, so his replacement will come out and get you when he’s done with some paperwork. I hope that’s no trouble.” Joshua’s sweet voice can be heard down the hall from where Mingyu is leaning on the wall around the corner next to the imaging rooms. The radiographer gives him a funny look as she makes her way to the lab with a stack of prints under her arm. He smiles and waves her off. Was he sweating a minute ago? Ew. Mingyu, pull yourself together.

         “No, that’s fine.” He guesses that’s his voice. He hadn’t talked to Minghao enough to know. On the rare occasion the dancers would cause a ruckus in the commons during a rainy day, Mingyu vividly recalls his peppery laugh between rounds of spins and flips on the cement floor. It was always a passive practice and a means to show off. They always had an audience; large or small, rain or shine.

         “Great. Would you like to take a seat while you wait?”

         “Sure.”

         Okay, well, he’s just a patient.

         Just like any other patient! Mingyu’s worked with people from high school before. Definitely! Like Johnny Seo who graduated a couple years before them and had come in after his on-the-job accident. Who even gets hit by firetrucks while working on powerlines? Or like Jeffery Jung who shared Mingyu’s homeroom and came in a few months back for back problems he started having after falling off his fishing boat. Yeah, whatever, these are just past-peers turned patients. It’ll be fine. Mingyu’s a people person. He’s an expert at smooth-talking flattery! It’ll be okay!

         He takes a deep breath before entering the hallway again, employee badge flapping haphazardly and getting stuck in his armpit for a moment. He fixes himself up and refocuses, taking long strides at a breakneck pace before slowing just as he comes into the lobby. Joshua holds out a hand for the paperwork he forgot he was holding and swaps them out for Minghao’s patient folder. Mingyu flips through it, his back to said patient who is sitting quietly in the waiting room, eyes trained on the TV that’s playing Spongebob reruns (from a decade ago).

         Right, damaged ACL and meniscus. Simple. Simple.

         “Xu.” He calls out into the empty lobby.

         Joshua gives him a look.

         If there’s no one around, Mingyu should just go up and greet his patient. They almost never call out for them unless the whole complex is booked, by last name at that. The people who are coming in for CT scans and x-rays are waiting on the other side and Minghao is the last patient of the day. There’s no need to call out his name.

         Minghao seemed to have been reading a book instead of watching the TV like Mingyu had assumed. He tucks it under his arm before getting up. His steps are very ginger on his left leg and since he’s wearing shorts Mingyu can tell it’s a bit swollen.

         “Right this way.” Mingyu turns his back to lead the patient down the hallway back to the PT room. He gestures Minghao to sit up on an examination table before turning his back to him again. The man hops up carefully, but with a certain misplaced grace. Mingyu just can’t look him in the eye. It’s so awkward. Ugh. “So, your knee?”

         “Yeah. Busted it on a bad landing I think.” Minghao leans over the edge to drop his book, wallet, and phone onto the floor in a neat stack.

         “Landing?” Mingyu is busying himself with typing patient information into the dated computer system.

         “I’m a dance instructor at Performance Studio up the street over in Honeyrun Plaza. Some co-workers and I are preparing for a competition and… yeah.” Yep, this is Minghao, the same one from high school. Clearly dancing hadn’t left his system. “I’m banking on not needing surgery, so I checked myself in, but semi-finals are in three weeks and finals are a month after that.”

         “I don’t want to promise anything before I check you out- check it out.” . “Usually, if you tear your ACL, you’ll need several months to recover, maybe more than half a year if you need surgery.” Mingyu gets brave enough to actually face him.

         Oh no.

         He’s hot.