“I see you brought a guest.”

 Henry dusted off his hands on the front of his apron, and crossed the flower shop, smiling to himself. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stopped at the doorway, closely studying Jongdae, and the stranger with blonde hair and pleasant features.

 “Yeah, I did,” Jongdae replied impatiently, walking past the rows of bouquets.

 “This is my friend, Minseok. He’s going to help me drive the truck to the flower farm and back. Minseok, meet my boss, Henry.”

 “Nice to meet you.” The blonde boy nodded politely and smiled sweetly, which immediately won Henry over. Something tugged at the back of his skull as he tried to remember why this person had looked so familiar-

 “You! You work at EXODUS, right? I’d know, cause’ my homegirl owns the place.”

 “.....What?”

 Jongdae grabbed Minseok by the elbow and lead him away. “He means Sunny. They’ve been close since their grade school days. They have a love-hate relationship, or something.”

 Henry chuckled, and put his hands on his hips. “You got that bit right. Anyways, pickup truck is in the back. You two should get going. You know where the flower farm is…?”

 “Yes, we searched that up on Google Maps.” Jongdae tugged at Minseok’s sleeve once more, and he wavered slightly.

 “Great. Remember to come back at the end of the day. You still have a shift to work.”

 “Yes, boss,” Jongdae said through gritted teeth.

 The two of them hurried to the back, leaving Henry standing alone at the front door, rattling off a list of things that they were expected to do by the end of the day.

 “I already filled the buckets with fresh water. Make sure to ask for marigolds when you get to the farm!”

  “YES!” Jongdae threw open the rear doors, letting in a gust of cool air.

 They walked into sparse parking lot, where a pickup truck, loaded with white pails, stood alone. On the side of the vehicle, a green cursive decal that read “Fancy Flowers”, jutted out like an eyesore.

 Minseok climbed into the driver’s seat, before tipping forward onto the dashboard, smacking his forehead over and over again.

 “Really? This was your idea of morning fun? Take your kid to work day?”

 “You agreed.” Jongdae buckled his seatbelt and inspected his clothes for the day; an interesting mix of an ugly green flannel shirt, and loose hanging overalls. “I told you we were going to a farm over text, and you left me on read.”

 “Sorry. But still-” Minseok sat up, plucked the keys from the cupholder in which they were placed, and started up the car.

 “And besides, do you look like my kid?” Jongdae whined, bouncing his leg up and down.

 “It’s a generalization! Did you think I was going to start calling you daddy?”

 “I wouldn’t mind…Yeol and Baek certainly don’t…...”

 Minseok rolled his eyes. “You’re just asking to get beat up.”

 “, babe.” Jongdae wiggled his eyebrows, and promptly got smacked.

 🌺🌺🌺

 They drove for half-an-hour, and as they approached the countryside, the buildings slowly got smaller and smaller, and appeared sporadically too, replaced by fields of yellow grass, and brown stalks. Sooner or later, the car passed a hanging pink sign, that read “Mikrokosmos”, the name of the flower farm. The place had been supplying Henry’s business for years, and he was reluctant to buy from anywhere else.

 It was decorated with glitter paint and squiggly white lines and looked almost as ridiculous as the name itself, quite a weird title for a farm, of all things to be called.

 As Minseok turned the pickup down the gravel road, it seemed to crumble away under them. The car jumped at even the slightest grain of sand, and it lurched over every stray pebble like a massive speed bump. 

 Finally, after several more minutes of a stomach-churning ride, a white barn came into sight, along with a peach-painted country house, facing a massive field, dotted with bursts of color as far as the eye could see.

 Minseok let out a slight gasp as he stopped the car by the side of the road, admiring the sight.

 Jongdae leaned over to prod his sides. “Beautiful, right?”

 🌼🌼🌼

 To get to where the flowers were planted, they drove a bit more, and walked the rest of the way to the middle of the sectioned-off field.

 Pulling open the glovebox, Jongdae snatched a pair of garden shears, slinging them in his right hand as he walked out to the open patch of marigolds. They looked like wadded up tissues, in shades of gold, orange, copper, and honey. Without hesitating, he plopped down right in the dirt and began t the flowers by the stems.

 When he had collected a bunch, he handed them off to Minseok and showed him the right way to place them in the buckets of water in the back of the truck, so they would stay optimally fresh.

 Eventually, they fell into a routine of work. Neither of them spoke much, but it was a comfortable peace, not an awkward, suffocating silence.

 🌸🌸🌸

 “Why marigolds?” Minseok asked.

 Jongdae looked up. “They’re the flower of November.”

 “Huh.” He shook his head slightly.

 “They’re pretty popular for Day of the Dead. And South Asian weddings too.”

 “Weddings?” Minseok smiled out of the corner of his mouth, and Jongdae narrowed his eyes.

 “What do you mean? You wouldn’t have flowers at your wedding?” He had stopped cutting, and held the shears firmly in his grip.

 “No?”

 “Not even your dream wedding?” Jongdae let out a shocked gasp and clutched his heart.

 “My dream wedding?” Minseok looked down at the ground. “What would you have?”

 “Oh, I don’t know.” Hs friend put his hands on his hips.

 “I’d like a cake. With lots of tiers. And every tier can have a different flavour. I also want a balloon arch. My brother thinks that would be tacky, but I don’t know…”

 “Nice,” Minseok replied.

 “And you?” Jongdae looked genuinely interested.

 “A piñata.”

 “OH REALLY?! You would have a damn piñata, but not flowers?” Jongdae simply shook his head with a mixture of mock disdain, and amusement. “Think of your poor future wife! Think of the flowers that she would’ve wanted.”

 “If it were really my dream wedding, I wouldn’t be marrying a girl.” Minseok looked at him for a reaction.

 There was sheer silence, then Jongdae’s mouth dropped.

 “I mean, you went first. Was it really such a surprise?”

 “......Yes! But I’m glad.” Jongdae let his gaze fall to his feet. “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me this. I’m glad we’re close enough to be real with each other.”

 He threw down the shears and crossed Minseok in a few quick steps, wrapping him up in a tight hug. His friend simply patted his back and leaned into the embrace, trying desperately to hide his grin. He buried his face into Jongdae’s neck and inhaled the scent of his skin, a mixture of Ivory soap, and old books.

 “Does anyone else know?” Jongdae asked, pulling away.

 “Actually, Irene found out at least two months before you.” Minseok admitted, earning a light whack on the top of his head.

 “Way to ruin the moment.”

 🌹🌹🌹

 The ground rumbled violently and they both turned their heads up to look.

 A tractor rolled down the dirt path, dragging tire marks into the reddish brown soil. It shook the earth with every turn, causing rumbles and shivers in the ground below. At the end of the unpaved road it finally rolled to a stop, and a single girl hopped out, her purple hair whipping around her face.

 She slid down the ladder, hopping across the last three steps, and opened the storage hatch, grabbing a garden trowel. Experimentally, purple girl gave it a swing like a baseball bat, and ran over to join the two flower-pickers.

 “Good morning, Jichu,” Jongdae said. He handed another bunch of marigolds to Minseok, who arranged them inside the bucket. The girl simply smiled back at him and squatted down, dropping to her knees.

 “Who’s she?” Minseok whispered, tapping his friend on the elbow.

 “Jisoo. She works as a farmhand.”

 “It’s my summer job. But now it’s fall, so I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Jisoo said quietly, causing the two boys to startle. “And why…..are we whispering?”

 “We’re not whispering,” Jongdae said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

 “Got it.” She gave him a thumbs up and kicked her legs gently, bouncing them up and down on the patches of cleared dirt. Jisoo fiddled with the buttons of her flannel shirt, striped blue, white, and purple, for a few seconds, before she cleared .

 “Sooo….what are you two doing here? Like, did Jongdae finally get a date? Tell me.” Jisoo rolled over on the ground to make eye contact with a panicked Minseok, coating her whole outfit in a film of soil.

 “Are you his boyfriend?” She drew a hypnotic swirl with her finger, and Jongdae slapped her hand away.

 “No! And shut up! I told you that in confidence.”

 “Sorry.” She slinked down and pouted, crossing her arms. “Are you sure?”

 “He’s sure.” Minseok collected another bundle of marigolds and placed them into the bucket, shaking out the stems.

 “Sure?” Jisoo clucked her tongue. “A shame. You two would make an excellent couple. And ya know, marigolds are the flower of passionate love.”

 The boys raised their eyebrows at each other-slightly, and returned to their respective work.

 “Want some help?” She crouched and began digging up the marigolds, yanking them out by the ends. The soil was crumbly and soft, sticking to the white roots, and she brushed away the mud, stacking the flowers in a pile.

 “What are you doing?” Jongdae grabbed the trowel and frowned. “That’s not how you do it!”

 “What do you mean?” Jisoo wiped her muddied hands on the side of her shirt, leaving brown finger streaks. She scrambled to her knees and jerked the tool back, causing Jongdae to nearly faceplant into the dirt.

 “HEY!” he wailed. His face scrunched up, and he pointed an accusing finger at Jisoo, who tucked her pin-straight hair behind her ear, and glared back. "Stupid!"

 “You're stupid!” She blew a raspberry, and Minseok offered his hand to help the both of them up. He walked a few steps forward, and Jisoo pulled herself from the ground. Then, Jongdae. Before he knew what was happening, the force from the drag had caused him to fall forwards and Minseok landed on his , directly in the patch of squishy mud.

 “Well, ,” Jisoo remarked, leaning down to help him. Minseok waved her away and pouted.

 “This is your fault!” he said to Jongdae, who widened his eyes.

 “Well, get up! We still have work to do.”

 “Carry me.” Minseok stretched his arms out, demanding a hug, as Jisoo giggled, waiting to see what would happen next.

 Without hesitation, Jongdae grabbed Minseok by the underside of his arms and heaved him up like a giant baby, setting him down on the ground with a grunt of difficulty.

 “Carry me.”

 “I did,” Jongdae said impatiently, grabbing the discarded shears.

 “Carry me.”

 “You heard him,” Jisoo said, twirling her hair around her finger.

 “Fine.” Jongdae bent down in a half-squat, and Minseok hopped on his back, hooking his legs above his friend’s skinny arms. He shifted as Jongdae stood up to his full height, seemingly unbothered by the extra weight.

 “You okay?” He turned his head slightly to look at Minseok, and his nose brushed against Minseok’s cheek.

 “Yeah,” he murmured against Jongdae’s raincoat. It made him feel weird, especially with Jisoo standing right there, clapping her hands together.

 The piggyback ride didn’t feel fun, but it felt…..so strangely intimate.

 Minseok shook away the thoughts, clearing his head.

 🌺🌺🌺

 “Is that it?” Jisoo asked, peering into the trunk of the pickup truck. She closed the lid of the last bucket and dusted off her hands.The truckbed was an explosive mess of discarded cuttings, oddly stacked buckets, and stray flower petals. 

 Minseok hopped from Jongdae’s back and planted his feet on the ground as Jongdae shook out his shoulders. “I think so.”

 “Kay.” Jisoo picked up the dirtied trowel. “Thanks for coming to the farm. My boss told me I had to say that to every customer. And please, come back.”

 “Thanks, Jichu.”

 “No, I really mean it. We need to make money.”

 They bid Jisoo quick goodbyes with a few waves. Jongdae closed the back of the pickup and opened the front door, climbing inside. Minseok got into the driver’s seat, pushing the keys into the ignition.

 They drove all the way back to the flower shop, parking the truck in the back, and unloading the buckets, carrying them inside the shop and piling them against the back of the wall.

 🌻🌻🌻

 “Are you coming? I'll drive you home.” Minseok asked, gesturing to the door. He had dug the pair of keys to his Volkswagen out of his pants pockets, and held them in his grasp. His car had been sitting outside all morning by the curb, untouched.

 “No.” Jongdae grabbed his green apron off a coat hook and tied it around his waist. “I still have my shift to work.”

 “Okay.” Minseok took a step towards the entrance.

 “WAIT!” Jongdae grabbed something off the counter of the flower shop, and ran to meet him, wrapping his arms around Minseok’s waist, and burying his head in his chest. He felt something press into his back, and a rustle of fabric as his friend slipped away.

 “Thank you for coming,” Jongdae said, and ushered him out the door.

 🌺🌺🌺

 Minseok stood on the sidewalk, and held the thing in his hand.

 It was a single marigold, bright orange, with a strand of yellow lace tied around the center.