“I want to move out.” Baekhyun turned to look at Jongdae as he sat down on the couch, a bowl of sugary cereal in his lap.

 “You what now?” his roommate asked, shoveling Frosted Flakes down his throat.

 “MOVE OUT.” Baekhyun switched off his video games for the first time in years, and rested his head on Jongdae’s shoulders. The other practically inhaled the remaining cereal, and ditched the bowl into the sink.

 It was so early in the morning, the sky was still lined with stripes of orange pink.

 “I’ll wash it later,” Jongdae mumbled. “Now about you moving out…”

 “I’m serious.”

 Baekhyun was never serious.

 “I’m never going to find another roommate, Baek!” Jongdae leaped face-forward onto the sofa, and groaned. “I’m a poor university student! Who’s going to help me pay the rent?”

 “Just go on the Internet and find someone else. It’s not HARD.”

 “You’ll be missing out on the bagels…”

 “Chanyeol will buy me all the bagels I want.” The crumbs dropped from Baekhyun’s mouth. 

 “I guess it’s about time anyways....” Jongdae admitted, dusting off the pieces of half-chewed Lucky Charms. “You deserve to move in with him. And look on the bright side. I won’t be waking up at two in the morning to the sounds of-”

 Baekhyun’s smile grew sleazy. “Just think of all the fun we’ve been having when you’re not around…”

 Jongdae picked up a pillow and whacked his not-roomate-anymore in the face.

 “Screw you.”

 “Thanks, but no thanks. My boyfriend can do that for me.”

 “STOP IT WITH THE JOKES!” The raven-haired boy clamped his hands over his ears. His not-roomate simply stuck out his tongue and slurped his cereal milk noisily.

  “One more thing,” Baekhyun mentioned, teeth stained with marshmallow sludge.

  “I’m taking the console with me. I want to teach Chanyeol to play.”

  “No problem,” Jongdae shrugged, “...we all know the game that you play the most on there is Cooking Mama.”

  He rushed out the door with his backpack before Baekhyun could get a chance to kill him.

 🍩🍩🍩

  “Is that Jongdae?” Irene stepped onto the stool and spread open the blinds to get a better look outside.

 “Is it? What’s he doing up so early?” Sunny placed her mop on the ground and dusted off her hands. “It’s like 5:30.”

 “I agree. It’s probably not him, the lazy he is.” “Get down. I need to get a better look.”

 At 5’2, Irene and Sunny were both all bite, no bark. Minseok wasn’t even that tall either, for a guy.

 “It’s some dude dressed in all black with a hoodie, jeans, and a backpack.”

 “I’m surprised. Why don’t you invite him in so we can all have breakfast together? He must be freezing out there…” Sunny said, taking the cleaning supplies to the back.

 Irene sighed and flicked the switch, turning on the neon glow of the open sign.

 “Jongdae!” she called through the open window. “Get in here!”

 The weary looking figure turned slowly, and dragged himself towards the cafe, looking like a dark lump against the colorful backdrop of the street; decorated with rainbows of leaves clinging onto the trees that were planted on the side of the walkway.

 The bell rung softly, and Minseok looked up from the coffee machine.

 “Hungover?” he and Irene asked at the same time.

 “No,” the boy replied, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I’m just exhausted.”

 Minseok was exhausted too, but totally not because he had stayed up all night thinking about the boy in front of him.

 Totally.

 “Nothing a cup of coffee can’t fix!” Sunny advised, placing a steaming mug in front of him. “Today’s special is a coconut caramel latte. Served with extra cream and sugar on top.”

 The baristas each took a seat around Jongdae at the bartop, and watched as Sunny brought out another tray of steaming cinnamon buns, shining with white glaze. She left the plate next to a server piled high with freshly baked brioches, steaming with flaky, buttery goodness.

 “Bon appetit!”

 The three digged in greedily, not missing a beat. Irene ripped apart chunks of cinnamon bun, her fresh manicure dripping with sugar syrup, while Minseok struggled to shove two things in his mouth at once, looking like he was about to dislocate his jaw when he made a small, strangled choking noise. Jongdae’s mouth dripped with the coffee as he brought one hand up to slurp, and the other to fight Irene for the last bun.

 “No!” she yelled. The florist snatched it from her grasp and she clawed desperately at his sleeve with her sugary nails.

 “Too late,” Jongdae chided teasingly. “Early bird gets the-”

 The rest of his words flew behind him when Minseok bit straight down onto his hand, seizing the coveted pastry with his teeth. He shrieked loudly in pain, pulling his hand away and wringing it out.

 “Sorry,” the barista slobbered, with an apologetic shrug. Irene slapped her knee in the background, cackling.

 “NOT MY HAND! AND MY KNEE TOO!” Jongdae rolled up his pants to reveal a crummy, barely stuck on bandage that was lazily covering a week old wound.

 “Please, change that,” Sunny said, whisking away the plates. “It looks….infected.” She winced and sat back down to join everyone else.

 “It’s almost healed anyways,” Jongdae replied, waving off any concern. Irene and Minseok made faces as Jongdae picked at the corner of the scabbed over scrape, drawing dots of red blood.

 “I’m fine,” he repeated to the two disgusted baristas, rolling his jeans back down.

 Sunny shook her head at the whole scene and pulled out her phone, scrolling through her Instagram feed.

 “Did you see this?” She turned the post towards Minseok and Jongdae, who both leaned in with curiosity. “I thought it was you two when I first watched it.”

 The white triangle fizzled away as she pressed play, and let the video run. It was a ten second loop that someone had taken at the club they went to yesterday; two boys, one blond, the other with jet black hair dancing Troublemaker under a golden spotlight. The high note rang from the phone speakers, and Irene’s eyebrows rose up to the roof.

 “Damn!” The girls put their hands together and made a wave of applause for Jongdae and Minseok, both furiously red. They each smiled tentatively as Sunny whooped and hollered in the background while Irene slapped their backs.

 “How did that end up on Instagram?” Jongdae searched through his own phone for the video, and sure enough, there it was.

 “You should be glad,” Irene replied. “This video alone has over thirty-thousand views.”

 Minseok paled as he scrolled down on his own screen. “Don’t read the comments,” he squeaked. “They’re thirsty as hell.”

 They all burst out laughing.

 “Such confident gays.” Minseok read out loud, making careful eye contact. Jongdae’s eyes crinkled into a smile and he pursed his lips.

 “He’s not wrong.”

 The blonde shrugged, grinning from ear to ear.

 “Wife me, daddy.” Irene squinted. “Oh my god,” she said, covering .

 “NO! We’re NOT reading those here!” Sunny reached across the table and turned off Irene’s phone for her, scrambling to change the subject. “Jongdae! Tell us what you’re doing up so early! You usually don’t get up until two hours later!”

 The florist folded his hands on the table. “I’m heading to the shop early to dye some flowers.”

 “What for?” Minseok looked confused.

 “I have a client that wants blue, and I don’t have those, so I’ll have to work my way around with white flowers and a bit of coloring.”

 ‘Is that scamming?” Irene said, sarcastically. Minseok stared off into the distance, through the window.

 “A guy’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.” Jongdae shrugged and wiped his hands on a stray napkin, yawning. “Speaking of which, I have to go catch the bus now. Thanks for the breakfast.”

 He gave a two- salute to Sunny, who nodded back, and waved goodbye to Irene and Minseok before closing the cafe doors behind him.

 The three baristas didn’t move an inch until they saw the bus drive away.

 🌼🌼🌼

 It took Jongdae more time to wash the bluing out of his hands(so he wouldn’t look like he murdered a smurf)than to actually soak the flowers. But fortunately, the bus driver was charitable and let the sweaty student on anyways.

 Chanyeol saved him a seat at the back(per usual), and he clutched an extra large bottle of Pocari Sweat to his chest, looking unbearably weary.

 “Did you buy that instead of Gatorade?” Jongdae pointed out, scraping at his greenish nails.

 “Stan Twice,” was the only coherent thing his friend croaked out, before drooping his chin to his chest. “I had like, five drinks yesterday. I’m so hungover….”

 “You’ll pull through.” Jongdae patted Chanyeol sympathetically as the boy took a swig of the translucent liquid.

 The bus lurched over a speed bump and the drink spilled everywhere. Chanyeol regurgitated the rest, and coughed loudly as Jongdae turned his his body away from the mess.

 “It looks like I’ve peed my pants!” he whined loudly, causing the other bus passengers to turn and stare.

 “Stan Twice…stan talent.” Chanyeol rasped weakly, holding the bus seats for support as he stumbled off and onto campus. Jongdae followed, dusting off the wet patch on the crotch of his pants.

 They walked through the Faculty of Sciences, looking like a weird sideshow, especially for the giant boy who was bent halfway over, lapping at a liter bottle, and the shorter one with the weird turquoise hands and the piss soaked jeans.

 “Wait,” Jongdae suddenly hissed, holding up a finger. “See that?” “I think that’s her.”

 The pink-haired girl from last week was pacing around the potted plants in the foyer nervously, muttering something in Cantonese to herself. Chanyeol and Jongdae crouched behind a prop-up poster board and watched her intensely.

 “We look really creepy out of context,” Chanyeol commented, through gulps.

 “It’s okay. She was creepy first.”

 “What are you two doing?” A hand grabbed the poster board out of the way, and the sophomores were approached by a skeptical looking senior.

 “If this is what it looks like…”

 The two “stalkers” jumped and turned to face Key, carrying a stack of textbooks.

 “Please….keep your ersions off this campus.”

 Chanyeol got to his feet and dusted off his pants.

 “She’s the one who attacked me last week!”

 Key looked extremely doubtful as Jongdae stepped in and started ranting at the top of his lungs.

 “THIS PUNK GIRL WITH THE WASHED UP COTTON CANDY HAIR TRIED TO ASSAULT MY FRIEND SIR!”

 Chanyeol dragged his friend by the backpack away from Key and began profusely apologizing.

 “I’m so sorry. My friend here is um...he has some….um….”

 Jongdae pushed Chanyeol to the side and took a deep breath.

 “PLEASE ARREST THIS LADY WHO TRIED TO HIT ON CHANYEOL WITHOUT HIS CONSENT!”

 Vivi looked up from her pacing and started walking towards a very panicked Chanyeol and a very riled-up Jongdae. Key looked like he wanted to “abort mission”.

 “Oppa, is that you?” Her pink braid flapped on her shoulder and her face stretched into a thin smile.

 “Kill me now.”

 “LOOK! THERE’S YOUR CHANCE! SHE’S ABOUT TO DO IT AGAIN!”

 Either Vivi was deaf, ignorant, or forgot that she was trying to get a guy with a boyfriend because she approached Chanyeol with the same vigor as a week before, skipping and twirling in her beige sundress.

 “I missed you!” Key slinked back slowly from the whole situation until he had placed a good distance between him and a chaotic Jongdae. What made the whole thing worse was that Chanyeol just had to go dye his hair on Friday. It was a light shade of cotton candy pink...that looked exactly like Vivi’s.

 “We’re matching!” She twirled another time and Jongdae had a sudden flashback to the horrors of last week. Chanyeol backed up, shoving Key in front of him in a futile attempt to hide himself.

 “Hey, wait, what?”

 The textbooks dropped to the ground.

 “I know it’s you! I’ve even been learning Korean for you!”

 This can’t be good.

 “Listen! Sa-RANG-HEY!” The syllables were painfully dragged out, one by one. Chanyeol and Jongdae scrunched up their faces in cringe.

 Before anymore could happen, Key threw his textbooks into his arms and barreled down the hallway, leaving Chanyeol unprotected from his adoring harasser.

 “You can always teach me more Korean, Oppa!”

 The tense moment was interrupted by the buzz of a phone, and Vivi plucked it from her purse. Jongdae and Chanyeol watched as she began to spit out rapid-fire Cantonese.

 “I’ll see you next week, Oppa!” she whispered.

 The two boys made their hasty escape down the Faculty of Biological Sciences.

 “I swear to god...” Jongdae gritted his teeth. Chanyeol made a hissing sound between his lips, telling him to drop the subject.

 “Fine. But I’m going to beat her up if I ever see him again!”

 🌸🌸🌸

 Surprisingly, Yeri used the crosswalk this time. It was windy weather outside of the apartment, and Jongdae muffled his face into his scarf as Yeri tucked her arm into his elbow.

 “Did you meet the new neighbours?”

 “Amber and Luna?”

 She nodded. “I had the casserole for lunch today.”

 “You enjoy eating that?”

 “IT’S SOOO GOOD.”

 “I gave the rest of mine to Baekhyun. He eats it like a starving man.” Yeri held open the door for Jongdae and they slid in discreetly.

 “Let’s take the stairs up this time,” Yeri said. “There’s something I want to show you.” She didn’t even wait for a response, before she used a surprising amount of strength to pull Jongdae up the stairs like a limp doll. They stopped in the foyer of the second floor and the boy let out a sarcastic monologue as he adjusted his messed-up backpack straps.

 “You know, you could have just asked me TO WALK UP THE STAIRS and I would have gladly done so myself. There was no need to-”

 Yeri was already making her way across the hallway, looking ridiculous as she clasped her bag to her hip to avoid making noises and padding softly towards the twin doors; one pink, one red. After she positioned herself under an overwatered yellow fern, Jongdae followed her anyways. It wasn't like he was dying to go home so he could catch up on his work, after all. 

 “Now listen…” She cupped her ear and scooped the hair from her face. The raspy noises that came from the other side of the door was nothing like anything Jongdae had ever heard before.

 “It’s a dog,” Yeri motioned to the red door.

 “She got a dog!” “Isn’t there a no pets policy?”

 His nose twitched, and he reached up to scratch it.

 “Be careful,” Yeri warned him.

 Jongdae took a deep breath and closed his mouth.

 The sneeze came anyways, and it blew open his lips, creating a fart sound that Yeri snickered at. The snicker turned into a full blown laugh as she doubled over onto the ground, laughing at the strings of snot that hung from Jongdae’s nose like bungee cords.

 “Here you go.” Yeri handed him a tissue from her bag, and continued laughing as Jongdae tried to pitch the wad into a trash can, but missed by ten meters.

 The door swung open before either of them had a chance to move.

 She didn’t look like a grandma, much less like a woman. Her head was piled high with stereotypical pink rollers that she wore for pure aesthetic(if you could even call it that)and between the many layers of wrinkles on her face was a greasy sheen that shone grotesquely in the apartment lights.

 Mrs. Yeh looked disgustedly at the two students, her thin lips crossing into a deep frown. The pink silk robe that she tied around her waist was caked in grains of rice from her last meal, and her rattling cough carried the scent of tobacco and garbage towards Jongdae and Yeri, who discreetly breathed from .

 “Little punks.” Her sagging face, dotted with liver spots, bounced as she spoke. The cigarette in her left hand got stubbed out into the doorframe, and Jongdae pretended to not notice the many round, brown marks in the pink paint.

 “I’m sorry ma’am,” Jongdae began, but was cut off by a vicious sneer. Yeri poked him lightly in the side and directed his attention to the dog behind her.

 The most evil of all dogs, a French bullhuahua, lurked behind Mrs. Yeh’s shriveled legs, sniffing at her nasty robe.

 It looks like a demon that needs to go to a dentist.

 As if the dog with red eyes and blackened teeth were the cutest little puppy, Mrs. Yeh scooped the hairless canine into her arms.

 “NOW GET THE ELL’ OF MAH GODDAMN PROPERTY AND DON’T COME BACK FOR THE LORD’S SAKE! IN’ YOUNGSTERS! YOU NEED TO BEHAVE YOURSELVES!”

 Yeri and Jongdae didn’t need to be told twice.

 🐶🐶🐶

 “You know that thing where all dogs are supposed to look like their owners?” Yeri asked. The two had taken the elevator up to the third floor, but they still checked around for signs of the hideous woman and her equally repulsive dog.

 Who knows? Maybe she had been a secret sniper during WW1 and was out to hunt them down.

 “I think Mrs. Yeh just proved that.” she finished. Jongdae snorted, and Yeri opened the apartment door, bidding him a quick goodbye.

 The bandaid on his knee chafed against his jeans as he hopped downstairs.

 The quiet atmosphere of the apartment stairs was interrupted by a loud bark that rang in his ears. He unlocked his door(cerulean blue, because Junmyeon insisted that the doors all be painted different colors).

  “BARK!”

  Baekhyun rolled over from the other side of the couch, tearing off his headphones.

  “BARK!”

  “I’m going to finish up my assignments today.”

  “BARK!”

  His roomate nodded and turned his attention back to the tv screen, busying himself with chopping virtual carrots, and skinning a fish.

  “BARK!"

  “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT NOISE!” Jongdae yelled, exasperated.

  “BARK!”

 “STOP INTERRUPTING COOKING MAMA!” Baekhyun screamed at nobody in particular.

 “BARK!”

 Jongdae thought he was going to lose it if the crusty- rat dog made another noise. He clenched his key lanyard tightly as he made his way out the door and across the hallway.

 There was a faint banging noise from the pink doors, and some scrambled whispers, before the sound of a door tightly slamming shut. He raised his arm to knock, but the door swung open before he got a chance.

 “WHAT DID I TELL YOU, YOU PIECE OF !” Mrs. Yeh threw the cigarette from her lips and stomped it onto the ground by Jongdae’s shoes, causing him to flinch.

 “Ma’am, please. Your dog is being disruptive to my roommate and I.” He managed to quell the bad taste in his mouth, and used the politest voice he could.

 “MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!” was the reply he got in return, before a bubblegum door was flung into his face.

 Jongdae retreated, defeated and thoroughly pissed. He contemplated about all the university assignments he had to do, and his mood slowly drooped.

 A research essay. An experiment write-up. A case study. A project report.

 Whatever.

 Can’t be late if I do them tomorrow.

 But you promised yourself to do them today!

 Doesn’t make a difference.

 A wonder that he hadn’t joined the ranks of many dropouts. As he stormed back into his room, he made a beeline for the mattress, shoving a pillow angrily into his face to block out the unwanted sounds of cheese grating and dog barking.

 “BARK!”

 “Good god…”