"Doyoung, get your sweaty off my new couch."

My same-age friend had little shame when it came to marking territories. I'd have imagined that dinner would be a breather after fending off my new stationery set and laptop wallpaper from him in the office the whole day. (It was a futile battle; he's my direct superior so when he demanded to see my new desktop so that he could judge my aesthetic taste, I had to oblige. All I could do was narrow my eyes when the corner of his lip twitched ever so slightly.) He'd insisted since the first day of me reporting to this new job, that "same-aged friends, especially those working in the same teams, should look out for each other". By his very loose and generous definition of that, he meant being clingy and invading my privacy and plate during lunches. Rumours were flying all around the office by the first two weeks that our manager was hitting on the new creative director in the office, but it's been five months and  by now teases only ever comes out when there's absolutely no office gossip left.

"For your information Jisoo, this a premium making its fine imprint and mark for the opening ceremony of your very dull couch. Be grateful," he'd made himself comfortable by leaning in the corner of my new furniture, flipping through the channels of the TV nonchalantly. This dinner arrangement we had every fortnight was seriously going making him way too comfortable in my apartment.

Perhaps I should mention, my new apartment.

To be fair, Doyoung was the one who found this place when he learnt that I wanted a change in environment. Since I was no longer planning a life for two, the old apartment seemed a little too roomy for someone living alone and embarking on a new chapter in her life as she made her mid-career switch. I took a huge pay cut to start anew in a whole new field, but so far meeting an old friend from back in the days had certainly helped me a lot.

I hadn't met Doyoung since high school graduation, and that was ages ago. He was the classmate who sat at the other side of class, our social circles hardly overlapped, and we probably only ever did one project together which we may or may not have scored a C+ for. Needless to say, we never contacted one another again after graduation, because we simply weren't close back in school.

Our paths crossed again when I spotted him in that one fateful photo that I wished I never bothered to be concerned over - the wedding of my cheating ex. Turns out, Doyoung knew Henry from another occasion and had been shocked to find out that the bride was not going to be his ex-classmate, but her best friend. He'd been all suited up, ready to start a small talk with me about our failed project, only to hear from some other mutual friend about the mess that the whole situation was. He dropped me a personal message on the day I got back from Incheon, and through multiple layers of coincidences along the way, I ended up in the company he's working in and our friendship was starting to build up again.

"Are you crying over men again, or is cooking really that tough for you?" Doyoung's voice travelled from his spot in the living room to my tiny kitchen, where I was preparing dinner. "You're taking way too long for a stew. Do you need help?"

I could tell the man was more engrossed in the drama on screen than actually wanting to help.

"Shut up Doyoung. If you had told me earlier that your nephew was going to drop by, maybe I wouldn't be in such a frantic state."

Doyoung snorted loud enough for me to hear from a distance. A moment later, he shuffled into the kitchen, leaving the television blaring in the living room.

"I told you he isn't eating much anyway. He's on a diet," he said as he took out another knife from my drawer and started on the mushrooms. I looked over at his handiwork, disgusted.

"It's so obvious that Jaehyun is the cook at home," I shook my head in disapproval, "poor boy has to endure the nonsense his uncle spills everyday and you can't even cook."

Doyoung scoffed and threw the mushrooms into the pot for boiling. Everytime I commented on his abysmal kitchen skills in comparison to his teenage nephew's, he would return to his immature high school self again. Why was I close to his nephew? Because, as I said, Doyoung had a policy about sharing as friends.

"Alright, shut up you little cactus. Where's the flour for pancakes?"

My eyes widened.

"I thought you were getting it?" I asked almost accusingly.

"No. I said you should get it because I was going to be held up at a meeting with HR department today," he blinked, genuinely confused over this miscommunication we had. I bit my lips.

"Alright you know what, do what you do best. Cut everything here and make the stew. Just stir for a bit and don't do anything else. Cut up the rest of the ingredients and I'll see whether I can get something at the mart nearby. Let Jaehyun in when he comes. He can roll on the couch if he wants," I winked at my pouting friend before leaving my house hastily.

It was a chilly evening, and sad to say this cozy new apartment of mine was not the most convenient. A serene and quiet location meant there wasn't much facilities nearby. With the exception of a convenience store, everything was a bit of a walk away. Naturally, I opted for a bus ride instead.

The evening bus was nice. It was mostly empty, and I got to watch the passing headlights on the road. Everything seemed so peaceful and perfect this evening, with a new friend I knew I could trust and his nephew whom I was fond of. Just one stop away from my destination, the bus made a stop where people seldom boarded. Disrupting my peaceful thoughts, the continuous sounds of luggage wheels on the floor of the bus sounded steadily as the new passenger glided his large huge belonging across the vehicle. It wasn't until someone gasped audibly did I realise the steady rhythm of the wheels of the luggage was gone, and instead there was a quick whirl which I must have missed. It was a quick succession of gasp, whirling and ultimately, a dull thump and an involuntary yelp that came from me.

The luggage had slipped from the man's hand when the bus jerked to leave the bus stop, rolling in a straight line towards my foot. Whatever he was carrying inside that luggage, I hoped they would break and crack when the luggage landed on the floor after it had went over my foot, which was now extremely sore and very much in pain.

What did he carry in there? Rocks!?

The traveler in the oversized hoodie quickly made his way towards the luggage and pulled it up by the handle again. He turned to me, presumably to apologise.

I was met with momentary silence though. Maybe he had heard me cursing under my breath.

"Jisoo?"

This? This was the real ed up situation.

I missed my stop for flour because of Byun Baekhyun. 

--

"Jaehyun, for the twelfth time, I am fine. Tell Jaehyun I'm sorry and I'll pay him back for the flour next time. You guys just have dinner as long as you want." 

Baekhyun watched me carefully and intently as I whispered hastily into my phone. Doyoung had given me seventeen miss calls when I hadn't returned home within the expected time, and though a bit extreme, I was incredibly touched by how much he cared. 

"Jisoo, is this the Incheon guy who made you cry that day?" 

I didn't answer immediately. 

"I know when I texted you that day, something was wrong. The Jisoo I know would never agree to dinner immediately with a classmate she barely remembers. You needed a distraction from something and I can tell it's not Henry. Do you need me there right now? I don't want you to cry halfway through dinner again." 

The memory of tearing up in the middle of our reunion dinner surfaced in my mind. It was the night when I arrived back in Seoul, and Doyoung was just the distraction I needed from Baekhyun. My friend didn't probe any further, but he was always a sharp mind. He figured Incheon wasn't the best