"How was Mark today?" I heard her say to the teacher. I didn't think about it much, as I played around with all the other kids at the playground. 

"Mark's been a good boy today, and he's making friends!" she answered cheerfully. "I'll get him for you."

"Mark? Your mom's here to fetch you!" she pulled me up. Reluctantly, I got up to leave the rest of my friends alone.

"Bye Grace, bye Remy..." I murmured as I held the teacher's hand and walked away. "Mom!" immediately I ran to hug her, my face buried into her dress - the familiar scent of butter and flour hit me. I had always liked whenever she brought home the pastries she made at the bakery.

"I missed you too, Minhyung." she kissed the top of my head, and with all her might - she lifted me up. "And Mrs. Kenta, about the daycare fees..."

"-you don't have to worry about that, Miss Lee. We understand the financial difficulties you're facing right now, it's okay to let Mark come here everyday - we can call for a meeting to discuss the payment issues later on. But every child deserves education, even at this age. Not to mention Mark here is such a good reader, he loves telling stories too." she patted my head with a smile. 

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Kenta. I'll bring Mark over tomorrow, say goodbye to Mrs. Kenta, Mark." my mom chimed.

"Bye Mrs. Kenta, see you tomorrow!" I waved at her from behind as we strolled out of the preschool, into the cab my mom had hailed  and got in. "I learned a new story today, mom!" I said.

"Really? Tell me then!" she said as she held my hand.

"It was called Eggsy the Rabbit. Eggsy's very kind, she has a mommy rabbit and daddy rabbit that love her, they have dinner together and-and they always head out to the garden outside their house to collect carrots. Mom, one day can we go to the farm and collect carrots?"

Then she chuckled, "Of course we can, you can pick all the carrots you want. And you can see all the animals on the farm too, there's cows, goats, even sheep!"

"Really? Promise?" I stared at her. 

She kissed my head again, "Cross my heart, baby."

"Mommy?"

"Hmm?"

"If Eggsy has a mommy rabbit and a daddy rabbit, why don't I have a daddy too?" I wondered. "I see Remy and Grace's dads pick them up at school too."

She was very quiet, but then she spoke. "Because...daddy is on an adventure. He's not here now because he's in his rocket ship, collecting all the stars in the sky."

"Collecting stars? For what?"

"F-for you, of course! Daddy's going collect all the stars in the galaxies for you, because you're special, Minhyung." she hugged me even tighter. "Because he loves you so, so much."

"More than Aunt Tiffany? More than you?"

"As much as everyone loves you, baby. And that is why you deserve all the stars in the galaxies."

I giggled, "But if daddy collects all the stars, what's gonna light up the sky? Mom?" 

I looked at her, and felt odd that her eyes were turning red when she was obviously smiling. "Your smile. That wonderful smile of yours will light up the whole sky, Minhyung."

I woke to the buzzing of the alarm clock, right on time to wake up. In a blurry state, I stopped the blaring sound and pushed off the covers. It was another weekend, so it was normal to see the jarring sun enter my eyes. I took a few breaths, letting the air enter my lungs to lower my heartbeat that was going a bit too fast. 

As soon it was stable, I pulled myself out of bed. I opened my drawer and took out the bottle of pills I was prescribed from Doc, just in case I had an emergency. It wasn't for anything serious, I was free of mental sickness, it was to control whatever aftermath that stayed behind. Occasional visions and dreams were nothing to worry about, but it was always better to have a backup plan in case it got worse.

This was the fourth time I had dreams like that this week.

Timothy was coming out of the shower when I was in the middle of drinking water to wash out the taste of the medicine. "Er, good morning Mark." he said as he dried his hair using the towel. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah," I managed to answer. "Just dreams, that's all."

He frowned, "You need to go back or something, have an appointment maybe? I can notify the board for you."

"Don't worry," I finally said after waiting a few seconds for the medicine to kick in. "It's just for precautions, nothing serious. It's just that I don't like having dreams, this week's just been pretty hectic - with all those assignments we had to hand in the day after that, I'm just kinda rest deprived. Nothing a cup of coffee can't cure."

"You do know a cup of Americano doesn't exactly cure you, right?" 

"It's fine, as soon as I get my hands on something to do I won't stay tired anymore." immediately, I switched on my laptop. "When do we have to do that presentation again? Monday? Tuesday?"

"No, it's on Wednesday." Timothy frowned. "Next Wednesday, Mark. We still have plenty of time for that."

"Yes, and I'm still going to work on it today. The topic is Modern Fiction, it's so broad and needs time to plan the draft after outlining all the research. And there's the bookclub meeting to think about, I still haven't finished that book we said we're planning on discussing tomorrow."

"'Under My Skin'?" he questioned. "You were the one who picked that book for this week. Mark Lee!"

I groaned, "I know, and I'm an idiot. A complete idiot. And I'm only halfway through the book." I looked at my watch. "I guess I'll speed through later-"

"As much as you're a workaholic, Mark Lee," he shut down my laptop. "-you, at organizing your priorities and timetable. Let loose, relax and for god's sake, get one thing done at a time." by this time he had hands on my shoulders, just masaging all my sore muscles out of the its strains. "Owowow, not that hard!" I grimaced. "I just...like to stay occupied, that's all. If I don't have anything to do, I'll feel empty."

"Here's a thing for you to do - since it's the weekend, I order you to put all that workload aside and spend the day with me."

I snorted, "And what do you do on a weekend? Get a drink and crash some random party on campus tonight?"

"Okay first, I don't waste myself on alcohol for nothing. And two, I have other productive things to do too. Like get breakfast then sitting down to finish reading a book to finish off the week, that's my current idea of a nice and peaceful weekend. It's something you'd like to participate in."

I thought about it, "Huh, you got me there. Okay, I'm in."

Sometimes I would forget that Timothy was a prodigy upon himself, but time and time again he would do certain things to remind everyone that he was a lot more smarter than any of them combined. 

So we drove to the diner outside of campus, the one according to Timothy, where the owners were distant relatives of his from France. They had immigrated and opened their very own restaurant in the middle of town. And Timothy said we could experience good breakfast with a cheaper price.

He just didn't tell me the bargain of the the transaction would be him playing the piano for the customers.

I watched him from our table (which was outside the air-conditioned space), but I could still hear him play. I knew he was lying when he told everyone he was only an amateur, when he was capable of altering other musician's music into the way another musician would play it. It depended on his mood at the time. When he was finished, I could see him bow and leave the stage, with applause from the customers in the morning. 

"Merci." he told the waitress who served our food, before giving her cheeky wink to make her blush. 

"So you speak French too?" I asked him while stirring the sugar in my coffee.

"Well, maybe just a little bit." he answered nonchalantly. 

I scoffed, "That's what you said when I asked if you could speak Italian, and you managed a full length conversation with one of the transfer students from Italy the other day. What else? German and Mandarin Chinese?"

"To be frank my fourth uncle is technically from Berlin, so it'd be awkward if I had no clue of what he was saying over Thanksgiving dinner. And second of all, I can only understand some Mandarin phrases."

"What's next? Korean?"

"Uh, I'm only picking it up so that I can eavesdrop whenever you talk to your aunt over the phone-"

I stopped him, "Forget I ever asked." as we ate our breakfast, I eyed him. "What did you play just now?"

"'Coffee Cantata', written by Bach." he answered.

Right on timing, I took a sip from my cup. "Sounds fancy." I remarked, but I didn't expect him to crack up laughing. "Why are you laughing?"

"It's just," he held back even more laughter. "-Bach wrote it about a woman trying to kick her habit of drinking coffee, he had a great sense of humor back in his time. It's so stupid it's brilliant, and none of people in there knew about it and they all thought I was playing some kind of fancy sonata of sorts." and he wiped his tears that leaked due to all that cracking up.  

I couldn't believe he had fooled me once again, and that it actually sent him into a laughing fit - when it really wasn't that funny. 

Then we began reading, starting on the same page. It was easy reading with him, we matched each other's pace with our eyes flying through the stanzas. The reason I had picked this book the other day, was because it had underlying tones about anxiety. I liked that it talked about something, that I personally understood, which was horrible to begin with. I hated my past anxiety, and I still do feel the walls caving in whenever I am in front of a crowd, espicially when it was about doing something out of my comfort zone. 

I wasn't an attention seeker, and I preferred blending in with the crowd.

"'Help me, the walls are caving in, 'give up' that godforsaken siren says, there I stand frozen and helpless; An invisible hand claws at my throat, pulling me into the pool of despair, I plea for God to show me a safety route - as my lungs gasp for air.'" Timothy recited. "My mom had anxiety, said it was a hereditary disease. Luckily it wasn't passed down to me though, it doesn't sound fun at all."

I shook my head in despair, "Trust me, it's not." He looked at me with understanding eyes, he knew I used to have severe anxiety too. It wasn't his fault that I spilled every secret I had bottled within me the first time I got drunk in our room. It was the first and last time I made that mistake, to accidentally reveal all my biggest and darkest secrets to someone I barely knew. My second mistake was that I told it to a person who'd still remember every single thing he said and heard while intoxicated. The next morning after the incident, we didn't talk to each other at all until he was about to leave the room for a party and said, "Just so you know, whatever you told me last night - is nothing to be ashamed of and in case you're wondering - my opinions about you haven't changed. And they are good opinions." and like that, he had left the room.

"'The people around me hope for me to meet their great expectations, when I am only an underling, and I have my limitations; They expect me to fly above the skies, when I can barely crawl on my feet, to be a king in world's eyes, but I am only an illiterate learning to read. They expect me to be a reigning queen, an independent woman on the edge of the world - until my blood, toil, tears and sweat are bled clean, and the wounds that would not seal make me shiver in the cold.'" I said aloud. "I like this one, it reflects both male and female perspectives. I respect that."

Tim smirked, "Pretty bold to referrence Churchill in the female perspective, just to point out the fact that powerful women can be vulnerable to other's expectations. It was his first speech, the one he spoke in the House of Commons in 1940, during the period of the Battle of France. Churchill actually popularized that phrase, he didn't start it."

"Oh really?" I asked curiously. 

He nodded, "Giuseppe Garibaldi said the same thing during his rally in Rome during 1849, Roosevelt uttered something similar back in 1897, poets included it in their works - Lord Alfred Douglas, Byron, John Donne, you name it." the facts came rolling off his tongue as if he was singing a familiar song.

I could only look at him with admiration, "Timothy Armor, is there anything you don't know?" 

Then he chuckled, like he always did when he belittled himself. "That's an overstatement, because I hardly know anything. At least, I don't know much about the things that actually matter."

"What things?"

He shrugged, "You know what things."

That sentence, that scenario we were in generally seemed so familiar. I realized, "Hold on, were you referrencing Call Me by Your Name?" and when he grinned, I threw my napkin at him. 

He laughed.

"Mark!" I nearly jumped the second I thought I had misheard Donghyuck's voice calling out my name in the driveway. I thought it was the wind, the things got even more bizzare when he was standing outside Doc's car that was parked outside our dorms. Tim and I had just returned from the library after finishing reading the book. 

"D-Donghyuck?" I stuttered. "W-what are you guys doing here?" I noticed Aunt Tiffany and Doc were waiting in their seats. 

Donghyuck rolled his eyes, as if I was asking a redundant question. "For someone who's celebrating their birthday today, did you really expect us to just let that slide? We're fetching you for your birthday dinner, dumbnut." 

"I-it's just, why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh let me think - because it's meant to be a surprise, duh." he looked at his watch. "Hurry up and get in the car, I'm starving here!"

I glanced at Timothy, "Hey, why don't you join us?"

He rejected the offer, "Nah, I don't want to interrupt your family gathering."

I wanted him to come, but what else could I say? You're family too, I almost said but stopped myself because it sounded strange. So all I could do was put a hand on his shoulder, "Okay, if you insist. I'll be back by tonight, don't miss me." 

He smirked, "In your dreams, Lee Minhyung." It had been a long time since anyone called me by that name, because they were scared if they'd butcher it. But Timothy would still call me by that, whenever he felt like it. And I appreciated that he took his time to learn the correct pronounciation before saying it out loud.

We drove to the usual diner near our house, and to think Doc took the time to celebrate it. He had booked a table, along with a birthday cake on its way. It had been a while since I saw Aunt Tiffany, and I never believed in the term 'pregnancy glow' until that moment. She was radiating with glee. 

While Donghyuck and I were lounging near the jukebox, he suddenly cleared his throat. "Riley said Happy Birthday too." he blurted awkwardly.

I swallowed, "Oh yeah? T-tell her thank you for remembering it." I inserted the coin into the slot. "Ahem, so how is she?"

"Um, she's flying to South Korea next month - she's planning on continuing her studies there. You know how advanced their plastic surgery business is there." he continued. I had always known Riley wanted to be a doctor, I just wasn't expecting her to pursue cosmetic surgery (she told me to not say 'plastic' as if it was a misunderstanding). Even so, I could understand why she chose it - she wanted to help out burn victims, people who had experienced acid attacks, those were the things she wanted to contributed her life to. 

"That sounds...great," I said. "Tell her I said best of luck."

"How about you tell her yourself? Mark, are you doing okay?"

I managed a smile, "I'm okay, it's just I'm not ready yet. I don't want to chicken out once I start talking to her again and act like nothing happened between our friendship. I need time, that's all I'm asking for."

He pursed his lips, and then he nodded. "I get it. By the way, I can see you're pretty close with that Timothy guy. Mind telling me anything?" he smirked

I tried changing the topic, "He's my roommate, of course we're close. But enough about me, how are things with Felix?"

His lips quivered, "Felix? He's like always, being an oaf that he is. What's new?"

I chuckled, "Aren't you two adorable? No, I mean about him going back to Australia? Are you okay with that?" 

I knew he wasn't when he kept quiet. "I don't know how to feel about it. He said he'll make the best out of whatever time we have left, almost seems like it's a permanent goodbye. He also said he'd still keep in contact with me, but I doubt it."

"So you doubt him? You're doubting what you have with him? It's that it?" I bombarded him with questions.

"It's just a fling, him and I. It's not love, Mark. Just because we like each other doesn't mean it's 'love', let alone me - I might be one out of the many guys he's dated. I'm just temporary-"

"-and you hate that you are." I finished his sentence. Even from the way he said it, I knew he was having a hard time. I wanted to console him, but with the state I was in - I had no right to offer relationship advice. If I said something negative, it would bring him even more down; If I said anything positive, it would get his hopes up for something I couldn't guarantee. "Just hope for the best, Donghyuck."

We didn't continue that conversation at the table, when it was time to blow the candles. They all offered me their presents, Donghyuck gave me a new pair of headphones, Doc said his was a surprise and then Aunt Tiffany gave me hers. It was an old looking journal, with its pages already having yellowish spots. 

"It was your mom's," she said. "Open it."

So I did as told, and realized some excerpts of the book were cut out. Finally on the last page was a map wedged in between a paper clip, I opened it and immediately I identified the various red dots scattered across the sheet - almost tempting me to turn it into a 'Dot-to-Dot' game. I frowned, "This was my mom's?"

Aunt Tiffany smiled, "When we were in college, your mom really liked treasure hunts. She considered every little thing precious for certain reasons, especially when it came to words. It wasn't a surprise that you got that trait from her, Mark. I was going through her stuff again the other day and I found this, so I figured you'd like to have it."

"What does this lead to?" I asked.

"I don't know, I never tried searching for whatever she hid." I tried connecting all the clues, and understood that the excerpts had something to contribute to the treasure hunt in a way. I just wasn't sure how it exactly connected. 

"Thanks, Aunt Tiffany." I replied with gratitude. "This really means a lot."

Then Doc cleared his throat, "Now, time for my present. And look at the time, we should get going!"

As we were exiting the diner, immediately I saw a brand new convertible parked at the front. It was red, sleek, and it was what I had been asking since highschool. I turned to look at Doc, who had taken out a set of keys matching the car. He grinned, "Happy birthday, Mark." he said.

"Hell yes." was all I could say.