His body felt stiff and sore. The bed he found in the downstairs bedroom was the only one and the sheets were musty but free from dust. Today he’d have to take a trip around the little coastal village and see what was available and what he’d have to order in.

Junhui needed a project and this old house was perfect to keep his mind off the itch of addiction for a few months. The itch was always there, like the spot on your back you just couldn’t reach to scratch, but he had to push past it. Each day became easier; some easier than others, some days were still a nightmare where he wanted to pull each hair from his head. But he would endure. He had to if he wanted to survive.

More than just survive; Junhui wanted to live again.

He needed a coffee but there was no kettle and nothing in the cupboards. He wanted food but there was no working refrigerator and he didn’t think to pick up any groceries the day before. There was no TV to watch and no radio for background noise so Junhui took a shower in the downstairs bathroom and dressed in clothes from his suitcase.

The one bedroom downstairs held an array of antique looking furniture which, if he worked out how to do it, could probably be restored into something beautiful. There was a tall wardrobe, a heavy dresser, and the bed was a huge four-poster which looked like something out of a movie. Time and the salty air had degraded them into a state almost beyond repair but Junhui remembered fragments of woodworking during high school and how much he enjoyed the scent of sawdust.

His hand trailed down one of the posts of the bed and a little varnish cracked under the drag of his fingertips. A few flakes dropped onto the floor exposing the bare wood beneath the degraded finish and Junhui swallowed heavily as he flicked a splinter out of his thumb. The bed, weathered and tired, fractured on the surface, was raw and flawlessly beautiful underneath. A little love and a lot of attention could strip this back to its natural state and rebuild it into something worthwhile.

Just like him, the surface looked beyond repair, but at its heart it was strong and it would endure, and one day be reborn as something beautiful to be treasured.

He shook his head and went back into the kitchen to find his phone and make a list. Then he headed into town on foot. It was barely a five-minute walk to anywhere and he wouldn’t need his attention drawing vehicle for a while.

His heart leaped with joy in his chest when he came across the small café facing the water’s edge. Coffee was exactly what he needed.

The smell of vanilla and cinnamon hit him immediately as the bell over the door rang. The place was mostly empty, Junhui wasn’t surprised, small coastal towns barely survived the winter. If he was still here in the summer he imagined this place to be packed to the rafters with city dwellers.

He looked around and admired the aesthetic. The tables were square and just big enough for two; scattered under the lights reflecting on the hard wood floor. There were a few booths along a side wall and a long bar ran the length of a floor to ceiling wall looking out on the beach. Bar stools seemed to be the designated seats for loners. Each table was adorned with a little vase filled with different flowers, daisies and lavenders, roses and lilies. The hazelnut and coffee and sugar in the air was so thick Junhui could taste it.  His stomach rumbled and he realised he hadn’t tasted anything sweet without throwing it back up in years.

“Good morning,” a bright smile greeted him from behind the counter. The man had warm eyes and dark hair and thick full lips which gave him a soft look. Junhui felt his smile growing infectious and almost smiled back. “I’ll have a long black no sugar,” he said as he stared at the rainbow of cakes and donuts and pastries behind the glass. “Sure,” the man said with another soft gummy smile and the itch in Junhui’s brain began to tingle again.

“Actually,” he said before the man could turn away, “I’ll have a tall hazelnut latte with whole milk. And one of those croissants. And a donut. Chocolate.” He pulled his wallet out before he could change his mind.

Settled at the bar Junhui stared out at the ocean. It was rolling angrily towards the shore, each wave crashing aggressively into the sand, before retreating somewhat slowly and gently. He breathed deep and tried to control his thoughts and keep his emotions in check. When the barista put the coffee and food down in front of him he knew he was going to have to make a call to his therapist.

Junhui came here to change, to heal and recover, and eating something was the first step.

The food was delicious but his mind still rejected it. He battled the war within, sitting at the bar for an hour, forcing most of the croissant and half the donut down. He sat there and stared at the ocean, the ebb and flow of the water, and ignored the itch in his brain niggling at him to run to the bathroom.

He wasn’t going to do it. This time he was going to win.

“I’m new around here,” he said to the barista when he was on his way out. “You don’t say!” The baristas teasing response was depreciating but not mocking and his eyes were kind. “I, um, I’m going to fix up some stuff in the house I bought. Is there a hardware store?” “Sure,” the barista pointed in the opposite direction to Junhui’s house. “Keep walking that way and you’ll find it. It’s not huge but he should have most of the things you need.” “Thank you,” Junhui bowed politely to him before walking out.

The food in his belly irritated him and by the time he found the hardware store Junhui had picked a hangnail until it was bleeding. The store had that musty smell, potting soil and treated pine and paint thinners all mixed together, and he found a tall man standing behind the counter.

He walked over and couldn’t help but think how much his agency would love this guy. He was even taller than Junhui, which was tall, and he had glowing golden skin and thick dark hair. “Hi,” Junhui said a little shyly, “I want some stuff to fix up some furniture in my house.” “Okay,” the man eyed him a little curiously, “what kind of furniture?” “A bed and a dresser?” Junhui looked around and the man laughed loudly taking him by surprise. “No, I mean what kind of wood. And what kind of finish do you want? Stains, lacquers, varnishes?”

“I don’t know,” Junhui said as he looked around. He was the only customer in the shop and wasn’t surprised. The town was almost dead. “Um, it’s kind of old, I bought the beach house up on the hill overlooking the water.”

“Oh, that place, the one with the little fence?” The man walked around from behind the counter as Junhui nodded. “That place has been empty for ages. I bet the salty air really did a number on the antiques in there.” He smiled, as radiant and warming as sunlight on damp sand, and Junhui relaxed a little. “You should go see my friend who owns the bookshop. He has a heap of antiques there and he knows a lot about restoring them.”

“Okay,” Junhui said as he looked around. “Where’s the bookshop?” “Oh,” the tall man’s face fell a little into a sad pout. “Sorry, you’re new here I guess, I’m Mingyu.” He reached out and grabbed Junhui’s hand and began to shake it vigorously. “I’m Junhui,” he replied and Mingyu furrowed his brow. “You look familiar for some reason. You come here in the summer?” Junhui shook his head no and Mingyu chuckled. “Maybe you just look like someone. Keep walking this way and take a left at the cafe. You know where that is?” “Yeah,” Junhui nodded and smiled, surprising himself. “I just had breakfast there.” 

“Awesome, so you met Seungcheol then, he’ll be your new best friend if you let him.” Junhui smiled again, this time less genuine, he wasn’t sure if he wanted friends here. They’d ask too many questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

“So take a left and keep walking towards the beach and you’ll find the bookstore. It’s across the road from the supermarket and it has a big sign over the door.”

Junhui nodded his thanks. “Okay and come back when he tells you what you need and I’ll help you find it. Make sure you tell him Mingyu sent you.” “I will,” Junhui backed towards the door and left as the bell rang out his speedy exit. The guy was just being friendly, Junhui knew that, but he still couldn’t help feeling a little suffocated. Everyone here was so neighbourly and easygoing and he really just wanted to hide out for a few months and be alone. It wasn’t in his nature to be rude but the people here were almost ridiculously nice. He was a little reticent to meet the bookshop owner.

The full feeling in his stomach faded as he wandered back along the road towards the cafe. When he reached it he turned and was back at the beach. The supermarket, if you could call it that, stood at the end of the road next to a desolate looking holiday park, and across from it was a two story shopfront with a big polished wood sign that read “Old Habits.”

“Yeah,” Junhui mumbled to himself as he headed across the road, “they sure do die hard.” He opened the door expecting the merry ring of a bell but it slid open in silence.

The bookshop was small but roomy and filled with deep dark wooden bookcases. Junhui didn’t know what kind of wood they were but they all matched and had a stunning red tint to the glossy finish. He wandered along them towards a vacant counter and his eye was caught by a row of black and white photos lining the wall. They were stunning, studies of ocean and waves, driftwood and cliffs and caves, shells and corals and tangled fishing net around piers and buoys. Junhui had seen a lifetime worth of photos and he knew these were some of the best he’d ever seen.

“Can I help you?” A deep voice made him turn with surprise and he found himself face to face with a man as tall as he was. His hair was dark and short, his glasses round and a little crooked on his nose, his face as handsome as it was impassive.

“Are you the owner?” Junhui asked as the beautiful man walked towards him and the owner nodded. “I’m Wonwoo,” he said and held his hand out with a bow.

Junhui held his breath. The man was the opposite of the other two he’d met that day. He was softly spoken, gentle, reticent and cautious rather than enthusiastic. “I’m Junhui,” he said in reply, momentarily forgetting about his furniture. “Are you the one who took these photos?” Wonwoo nodded and a small smile turned the corners of his mouth up a little. “Are you a photographer too?” he asked and Junhui shook his head. “No, I mean, not yet but I’ve always kind of wanted to learn.”