As soon as Chanyeol and Jongin got back to their respective ‘houses,’ Chanyeol searched for his name on Naver, Twitter, and other media sites just to make sure that no one – especially the Korean-American he met at the café, Wendy – had an idea that he was the Prince of South Korea, or that the Prince of South Korea was just chilling in Los Angeles.

Headlines filled the sites, but not in the way Chanyeol thought.

Prince Chanyeol set on a one-year internship with RG group

Prince to travel all over the world and learn with RG internship

The Prince’s internship – an engagement with RG heiress Lee Hyerin?

The King used his close ties with the RG Group to hide the fact that the Prince ran away, and in the process, further fostered the rumors of Chanyeol getting engaged with Hyerin – which was what the King and Queen wanted. Chanyeol was sure Hyerin was fine with it, but he couldn’t help but feel upset that his parents still spun whatever he was doing in their favor. As long as I get to just do what I want, Chanyeol thought.

What did he want?

Chanyeol had a year to spare – a year that he should savor and make the most out of. An idea went to him: how about making a checklist for the things he wanted to do, he absolutely had to do while he still had some semblance of freedom. The very first thing that popped into his head was getting a ‘real’ job. A job that wasn’t, you know, made for royalty. A real job that the actual working class took on. That’s one.

Oh, get ing wasted. He wanted to get drunk badly. And he tried to, while he was in London – but somehow, his father was always at his throat. When he didn’t need to study and had free time to spare, he tried going to pubs – but voila, the King appears. To say that he couldn’t catch a break was an understatement.

He started writing down the two ideas he thought of. Third. Watch a movie at an actual cinema and not at the Royal Cinema House inside the Palace? It was weird, but he’s never seen a movie at an actual movie house, mostly for security reasons: it was too dark, and anyone could come in. So they ruled that out for the royal family. But it was such a simple thing Chanyeol wanted to experience, so he wrote it down.

Fourth. Meet any celebrity as a commoner, and not as a prince. He’s met loads of celebrities – Korean and foreign – but they all gave him special treatment. He wanted to experience how to freak out like a normal fan. (Chanyeol was secretly hoping he’d meet Ryan Reynolds).

Fifth. Learn how to cook… something. Chanyeol did know how to use the microwave, but that was the extent of his cooking abilities – or, more aptly, reheating already cooked food abilities. All his life, food was never a problem. Food was always good. Food was always prepared by a chef. Now that his money’s limited, he needed to budget his funds and stop spending on takeout. Cook.

Sixth. Attend an NBA game like a normal person, which is not on the front row. It’s weird to not want front row seats – but he just wanted to drink beer while enjoying the game, with no one watching his every move. And that just wasn’t possible on the front row. On the general stands it is.

Seventh. Attend a carnival or a state fair. Whatever. He wasn’t really sure what the difference was; all he knew is that he’s never attended one, and it seemed fun. Why not? Chanyeol thought that local fairs and carnivals seemed more authentic than the humongous theme parks scattered all over Cali. He loved theme parks, too, but he wanted to try something different.

Eighth. Take cheesy tourist photos at tourist spots… that aren’t so crowded with tourists because he doesn’t want to get recognized. Scratch that, Chanyeol thought. He’ll just take cheesy tourist photos wherever. But maybe he did want one at the Walk of Fame. Or even the Golden Gate, if he had time to go to SF.

Ninth. Get inked. Chanyeol’s parents would kill him if they found out he had a tattoo – all the more reason to get one. He thought that it would also be a nice remembrance of his year of freedom.

Tenth. Form a good friendship with someone who has no idea he’s prince. Everyone from Korea, by default, knew he was the prince, and had judgments before meeting him. Not that his friends weren’t his true friends, per se, but he just wanted to find a friend that would just solely take interest in him for who he was – Chanyeol, and not because he was the prince.

Chanyeol tried to settle with the nine items on his list – it seemed plenty enough already, especially given that he probably won’t have time to do all of them because he did have to work (and he really, really wanted to earn money the normal way)… but something was bugging him. Maybe it was because he wanted the total items on his list to be a prime number. Or he just hated the number 10. But he wanted to add one more.

Fall in love?

Chanyeol wrote it down, adding even more question marks, but quickly crossed the words out multiple times. He was delusional if he thought he could fall in love within one year (or less, as his parents might catch him somehow), and he’s never fallen in love hard ever before. He wanted to; he did. Wasn’t that a part of normal living? But with his parents’ pressure weighing down on him, he knew better. Even with this year of freedom… Chanyeol thought there still wasn’t space for love.

Oh well, Chanyeol sighed to himself. At least he’ll finally get wasted.

Chanyeol woke up to a start from his living room couch when Jongin barged through his apartment.

“Yeah, I’m thinking she’s safe,” Jongin said as he made his way inside, pushing Chanyeol aside to make space for himself on the couch.

“What?” Chanyeol replied groggily.

“Wendy, the girl at the café,” Jongin answered. “Korean-American, migrated here when she was 7. Her parents aren’t with her anymore, since high school. Her best friend’s parents took her in and became her legal guardians. Also Korean. UCLA, took up something like music and philosophy. Working at the cafe.”

“How did you find out all this stuff?! And was that really necessary?!”

“I’m good at my job,” Jongin rolled his eyes. “And yes. That was necessary. I’m thinking she doesn’t have the time to think about royalty from countries other than the UK since they’re the most well-known… But I’ll have to make sure in the following days, since I’m pretty sure you’ll be frequenting that place. And if she knew you, with the way you annoyed her earlier, she’ll probably rat you out.”

“Fine, whatever,” Chanyeol said. “Speaking of being good at your job… I need a job.”

“Well, yeah,” Jongin said, stating the obvious.

“Tomorrow,” Chanyeol replied. “Let’s look tomorrow.”

Wendy Son closed up shop at midnight, making sure everything in the café was back in order. She had a long day, and it didn’t help that her boss, the owner of the café and her only coworker, was out of the country searching for some beans. Her best friend Seulgi tried to help out at the counter, but she had to excuse herself numerous times when her real boss – a famous website’s editor-in-chief – called her. Wendy was thankful that Seulgi worked mostly from home with her job and helped her, but she thought that she already owed Seulgi a lot.

Wendy hated going back home alone at night. Granted, it was just a five-minute walk, but it was a five-minute walk of torture. “Nice guys” would always offer to walk her home, but Wendy knew better than to go with them. If Heechul, her boss, were there, this wouldn’t have happened: her usual shift was from 6 in the morning to around 4 in the afternoon, and Heechul was there from 8 in the morning until midnight (well, it was his café, after all). Wendy walked hurriedly back to her and Seulgi’s shared apartment.

When Wendy got home, she was thankful to see Seulgi gulping down a mug of coffee, sitting down on their dinner table and staring in front of her laptop. She had so much to say.

“You look…” Seulgi wanted to say tired or stressed out, but she hesitated.

“You too,” Wendy snorted. “Thanks for helping out earlier, Seulgi.”

“It’s nothing. I’m sorry I had to leave several times earlier. My boss—”

“It’s really no biggie,” Wendy smiled as she laid down on their couch. “But you should’ve seen this guy earlier.”

“Why? Is he hot? You really need to sleep with someo—”

“No,” Wendy said, disgusted. “He was Korean, but he had some sort of English accent. Anyway, he was such a snob. Not even the normal coffee snob I encounter. He kept on asking where the beans came from, which communities we’re working with, the roasting process—”

“Isn’t that what you’re big on, though? You and Heechul insist on fair trade and whatnot. Isn’t that why he’s in Sumatra or something?”

“Well, yeah, but he was just such a know-it-all,” Wendy rolled her eyes.

“Well? What did you say to him?”

“I kind of dismissed his questions.”

“But you’re usually so kind to customers.”

“I know. Something about him just ticked me off,” Wendy shrugged. “He looked so familiar to me, though. I can’t put my finger on it. Anyway, he did remember my name, so maybe he really just has a penchant for details and I was just stressed out and I took it out on him. Which is… unfair, now that I think about it,” Wendy pouted.

“Oooh,” Seulgi smirked. “You met him again?”

“No, I just overheard the guy he was with. Korean too, they were speaking Korean. He asked who Wendy was, and that was all I heard. Chad the snob was probably annoyed at me, that’s probably why they were talking about me.”

“Or maybe he wanted to ask you ou—”

“Nope,” Wendy said.

“Ok, fine, I’ll stop trying,” Seulgi said. “But you always tell me you have zero i