Autumn.  

Baekhyun sees you sitting at the usual table again – right by the stage but in one corner. He had noticed you by now, you almost always came alone, ever so often; he didn’t know how often, he only sang at this pub on Fridays after all.  

As always, you sat quietly in the corner, having a gin and tonic and some snacks. You looked tired, was it school or was it work? But there was a hint of calmness in the way you swirled your drink. It was the Friday atmosphere, the end of another week that you bravely pulled through.  

That was all he gleaned from his few minutes of observation before it was time to start the live performance. Maybe he was affected by your energy, but he told the band to start off with a laid-back jazz song, much to their astonishment as they were used to initiating with something more upbeat.  

—

Winter.  

It was a freezing Friday evening, but it was the first time Baekhyun saw you here with friends – two other girls around your age. You were laughing boisterously, clapping your hands from whatever your friends were saying.  

He sang many chirpy songs, to the contrary of the weather that night. The icy wind blasted through the streets, but at least his singing warmed up the atmosphere within.  

Turns out it was your birthday, when the waiters brought out the cake adorned with candles, Baekhyun and the band smoothly broke into an impromptu birthday song remix. He watched as you blew out the candles and took ‘wefies’ with your friends. Using the festive season as an excuse, he continued the live performances with all the cheery titles he knows.  

—

Spring.

By now, you were all chummy with the staff at the pub. He decided that he too, will approach you that Friday night. But you were distracted, constantly on your phone. He wasn’t able to read your expressions even, and you left before his shift ended.  

Two weeks later, still spring. You were at your regular spot again, but this time, with a new companion. He was suave, and when he smiled his eyes did too. You beamed at Baekhyun as he took the stage, he gently nodded back at you.  

Spring was the season symbolic of love; there was no excuse not to sing any love songs. He sang many of those that night. You listened intently but your eyes were only on the man sitting opposite you. At some point you looked like you were a little drowsy, he got up and sat next to you and you rested your head on his shoulders. You closed your eyes and continued listening to Baekhyun’s sweet melodious voice, but he never once met your eyes again that night.

—

Summer.  

You hardly appeared. The days got hotter, he started feeling more breathless as he sang. Sometimes he’d run out of ideas as to what to sing, and he will just wait for a customer to pass him a napkin scribbled with the title of the song they wished to hear.  

There was an exceptional lack of song dedications one night, and he was lost on inspiration as well. Looking towards where you would have been seated if you were here, there was just a bunch of mildly rowdy guys.  

The band members looked at him, waiting for his decision. He wanted to call it a night at that point, but the pub owner wouldn’t have it, passing him a list of songs to pick from, all much too old school for his liking.  

—

Autumn.  

He almost thought you’d never come back. But on that slightly chilly autumn Friday night, he finally saw you again, sitting at the usual spot, alone.  

This was the first time he’s seen you order soju. You poured yourself one small glass of the transparent liquor, drinking it almost in one shot, and then dropping the tiny glass onto the table lightly. Even the air around you felt like it turned a shade of dark blue.  

There was a song request for the first song, he ignores it, asking to sing it later instead. He sang quiet soothing songs, which were almost like lullabies. He glanced often at you, hoping to calm whatever emotions you were feeling.  

By the end of the fifth song, the pianist reminds Baekhyun of the song request, he wanted to push it to later again, but the pianist protested saying that it is already later enough. With reluctance, he sang it; it was a break up song.  

His voice never sounded sadder, the little vibrations at the end of each line shaking your heart. You finished the last glass of soju from the bottle, ordering another.  

He didn’t dare to look at you throughout the song, but when he finally stopped singing and only the outro was playing in the background, he turned to peek at you. You propped up your face with your hands, but the action was more intended to cover the tears trailing down.  

He was reaching his last song for the night, it took him just two seconds to decide on one, and he knew the lyrics without even looking at it, because all those were the words, he’d been wanting to sing for you:

“The way you cry, the way you smile 
Do you know how much they mean to me? 
Words I want to say, words that I lost 
I’ll confess to you but just listen 
I’ll sing for you, sing for you 
Just listen for once and smile.”