one love and a drizzle of caramel sauce.

Click.

“What in the world—“

“Congratulations, you’re the first photograph in my new camera.”

“Chanyeol, goddamn it, delete that!”

“It turned out well!”

“I don’t give a ! Delete it!”

“You should be happy!”

“Why?”

“Don’t you know? The first picture of a person in his camera reflects the most important things in his life.”

“So you’re saying I’m the most important thing in your life?”

“Baekhyun, you should know that there’s always an exception to the rule.”

“Just delete the goddamned thing and we’re good.”

“How many times am I going to tell you no?”

“Until you delete it. I’d even gladly pose for you!”

“No.”

“Damn you.”

Click.

“Park Chanyeol!”

Contrary to popular belief, no, they’re not best friends.

They actually just met a while ago.

When one got a drink that wasn’t his to begin with, and one wanting justice.

Somewhat.

“Hey, Baekhyun-ssi—“

“Huh?”

Click.

“Park Chanyeol, I am going to kill you.”

“Try me.”

“A Caramel Frappe would sound nice right now”, Baekhyun says to no one in particular.

He feels his parched mouth suddenly water with the thought of a drink.

Food.

Anything to keep him from eating his officemate who was drawing furiously on his sketchpad.

A chair swivels around.

“Does anyone want anything?”

A unanimous but disjointed grunt of “no” echo inside the room.

“Okay, I’ll be back in thirty.”

Baekhyun walks to the elevator, the thought of finally filling his stomach with food, making him tap his foot impatiently. And also, he isn’t cramming anything.

He finished all ten posters and had it approved by their almighty boss, Wu Yifan, the moment he entered his own office.

What a miracle, Baekhyun thinks as he boards the elevator, going down.

What a good day.

“Stop taking stolen pictures of me!”

“I’m enjoying, okay.”

“Don’t care.”

“What—“

“Say, Chanyeol, what do you do for a living?”

“Did you seriously just ask that?”

“. . .Yeah?”

Click.

“ you.”

“That’s what I do for a living, thank you very much.”

Park Chanyeol wanders around a park.

It seems that he should have a subject by now, being the wondrously lucky guy he always is, but it seems nothing catches his attention enough to be made a subject or a cover, even.

“Goddamned cover”, he mutters to himself.

He was supposed to be lazing by now, sipping a cup of Caramel Frappe—

Yeah that’s right. He will have a Caramel Frappe, he will have a cover by tonight, his brother will not kill him, and everything will be alright.

Except the last two- no, three- propositions are so far-fetched Chanyeol could just shake his head.

But yes, a Caramel Frappe is sounding nice right now.

As he walked towards the nearest café, he caught sight of a person, clad in an orange shirt, tight-fitting pants, auburn hair sticking out on all directions with sunglasses to match everything.

Looks like an interesting subject, he thought, as he opened the door for the person, hearing a small squeak of “Thank you” before entering.

“One Caramel Frappe, please.”

Baekhyun could barely turn his head to the side because there he is again.

The person who opened the door for him.

The person who Baekhyun swore, on first sight, was cute, happy, and is currently distressed.

Baekhyun has a knack for running a once-over at a person and immediately knowing what they feel. Sort of like Sherlock, but milder.

If he turns his neck just a little bit to the left, he will see the sleeves of the other and ogle—he swears he will—on the properly toned muscles of the other guy.

Crane his neck right and he will see a camera poised to take a picture of him, then retreat without a click—

Wait what?

“Did you just take a picture of me?” Baekhyun says as he steps to his right to accommodate the tall guy, now leaning on the counter.

“One Caramel Frappe, please.”

“Oh—sorry sir, the man beside you took the last order.”

“What?”

“We ran out of caramel, sir.”

“Fine, fine. One Choco Chip.”

The smaller guy beside him tapped a foot.

“Hey. I’m asking you something. Don’t be rude.”

“I did not take a picture of you. Okay?”

That voice.

Baekhyun swears—and he’s swearing a lot today, for starters—that the other guy’s deep, melodious voice will keep him up at night.

“Okay.” He semi-grunts, semi-says.

Wow, that has got to be the most stupidest voice he could muster.

Clearing his throat, he marches to a tall seat.

Chanyeol sits on a chair by the window, seemingly looking outside.

The truth is he’s looking at the reflection of the guy he opened the door for earlier.

He’s good looking, Chanyeol thinks. Looks like I’ve got a subject.

Labeled as Mister Orange by Chanyeol, the latter proceeds to take pictures subtly, the shutter sound diminished by the constant whirring of the machines and conversations left and right.

Good intuition told Chanyeol to stop momentarily and he places his camera on the table. When he looks again, Mister Orange is looking at him.

Their eyes meet for a short moment then it was Mister Orange who looks away, seemingly flustered.

Cute.

Mister Orange goes to the bathroom, then there was a call.

“One Caramel Frappe for Byul!”

“What’s your name, sir?” The person on the counter asked Baekhyun.

He thought for a moment before replying “Byun.”

The thing is the person in the counter heard “Byul.”

When it was Chanyeol’s turn, he said “Yeol.”

Which the person heard perfectly.

Chanyeol stood up.

This was his chance to take hold of his beloved caramel frappe.

At that same time, Baekhyun emerged from the restroom. He saw that the person who ordered after him got a drink, while he had none.

Marching up to the counter, he noticed something as the other stuck a straw and started sipping on it.

The name was Byul—

Which sounded a lot like Byun.

Which was his last name.

Then he realized something, as the next order came.

It was Choco Chip.

Which meant—

“You drink stealer!”

“How about you, what do you do for a living?”

“I draw pictures.”

Automatically the tall guy’s eyes go to the other’s hands which were—

Immaculate.

Wow, damn if he wasn’t thinking of holding them right now, but his calloused and rough hands would more likely hurt the other rather than soothe.

“Your hands don’t—“

“Don’t. Just don’t say it.”

“What?”

“You’re gonna say ‘Your hands don’t look like they are used’ but I do swear I am telling the truth.”

“I was going to say ‘Your hands don’t have smudges; you must’ve finished early’ but then I suppose you don’t want to hear it.” Chanyeol says after a beat.

Both just had to look at each other and laugh.

“I need to go.”

Baekhyun looks at his watch which was all but screaming thirty minutes, thirty minutes!

“Too early, Baekhyun. Can’t you stay longer?”

“Nah, especially when you keep taking stolen photographs of me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

Click.

“Yep I better go.”

Chanyeol missed the conversation, for starters.

It was great bantering and talking to Baekhyun.

It was great to process what Baekhyun was saying and what he should say to counter the person.

It was great listening to Baekhyun talk.

It was great to be with Baekhyun.

The last thought sent shivers through Chanyeol’s spine because he knew there was a promise of a definite next time.

“Can I have any contact number so that I can call you for the. . .uhm. . . replacement meal?”

“Any contact number?”

“Preferably the one you always use.”

“You mean my cell number?”

“You may use your landline often too. I just need a number, that’s all.”

Baekhyun looks at the taller, then chuckles.

“Is this your way of asking my number?”

Chanyeol blinks.

“What if it is?”

“Pretty lame, Chanyeol.”

The tall guy sighs.

“Got me on that one, didn’t you.”

“You’re hopeless.”

A calling card finds its way in the big-eared guy’s hands.

“What’s this—“

“Call me if ever your offer still stands.”

The smaller of the two starts walking away, slightly brisk.

Chanyeol shouts.

“Thanks!”

“Sure! Delete my pictures okay!” The other replies, walking further.

“Nope!”

“ you!”

“Gladly.”

Then he mentally curses himself.

Park Chanyeol, you did not just should gladly as a reply to a you.

Baekhyun, meanwhile, finds the meaning of what tomato red looks like on his face the moment the other shouts “gladly” to his “ you.”

Baekhyun could safely say this was a first-seen-first-whatever- crush.

It was great hearing Chanyeol’s voice.

It was great looking at Chanyeol.

It was great processing the wit of Chanyeol for him to defend himself; the push and pull of the conversation.

It was great to be with Chanyeol.

The last thought made Baekhyun redden as he walked through the glass doors of the publishing company he was working in.

“Hyung?”

“Chanyeol, do you—“

“Working on it. See you later.”

“Thanks.”

Chanyeol pushes the glass doors of the office, his face too recognizable to everyone.

Who wouldn’t recognize the handsome photographer who always gives the covers to the publishing company?

Baekhyun dropped his frappe in the office refrigerator and went to the loo to relieve himself.

When he came back to the office, he could see the outline of a tall guy in their boss’ office but that was all he saw before his officemate goes in the way and leads him to his cubicle where another stack of papers, clearly for another account, are waiting.

He sighs.

This is going be another long day.

“What’s this?”

Chanyeol inwardly sighed.

“Do I really need to explain?”

Wu Yifan squinted.

Chanyeol sighed audibly.

“Hyung, what edition are we releasing again?”

“Our normal, day-to-day edition.”

“That’s why.”

Yi Fan looked at his photographer slash younger brother slash forever critic, Park Chanyeol.

“This looks like a Valentines’ Day cover.”

“No it does not.”

“It does!”

“It does not.”

“It—“

“Excuse me?” Suddenly, a man with auburn hair sticking out to all directions peeks in.

Baekhyun knows that stance.

Chanyeol knows that voice.

They stand there like two strangers who know each other a little too well to be even called strangers.

Yi Fan clears his throat and looks at the two, visibly shocked but in a good way.

“You two can stop staring at each other. Baekhyun, what is it?”

Chanyeol can feel his cheeks redden.

“Uhm, sir, I was just thinking—“

“Actually he’s the inspiration of this cover.” Chanyeol blurts out.

“What?” The two other men say at the same time, clearly shocked.

“I said,” Chanyeol looking pointedly at Kris, and then at Baekhyun, “you’re the inspiration for this cover.”

The cover in question were hands that were on the table, with a drink poised just directly in the center. Another pair of hands were on the table, seemingly reaching out to the other pair to hold them.

“Huh. Okay.”

“It doesn’t look like a Valentine’s Day cover, is it?”

Baekhyun stifles a laugh before realizing –

“Are those my hands?”

Thank goodness the day was done, Baekhyun thought.

After that awkward encounter in the office of his boss (and Chanyeol’s brother), Baekhyun was too glad to exit the room, focusing instead on the account he was assigned to. Time went by quickly, and then –

“You’re working too hard. Here, have a frappe.”

He drops his pencil and swivels around to see Chanyeol putting down a cup of frappe –the one on the refrigerator – on the desk.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“How did your meeting with Sir Yi Fan – I mean, your brother, go?

“He approved it. He always approves it.”

Silence, again.

“Are you…”

“Waiting. For you to get out. So we could have coffee, maybe. A bite. Something.”

Chanyeol fumbles through the words, and Baekhyun merely smiles.

“Are you asking me out?”

“Glad I made my point across.”