It was a mundane morning like any other as Youngsoon washed the bowl she used for breakfast. Eyeing the plum blossom teacups laying on the drying wrack, her mind travelled back in time towards her conversation with Jinyoung the previous day. Patting her hands dry, Youngsoon hoped that the Rumi quote would provide Jinyoung with as much comfort and reassurance and hope as it did for her.

Youngsoon knew though that a major reason why that quote stuck with her for so long and served as a mantra whenever she felt down was also due to who it was from. Youngsoon strongly believed that the messenger was just as important as the message and in her case, Mark was someone who held great importance in her life — that much was unquestionable.

When was it that Mark had occupied such an irreplaceable position in Youngsoon’s heart? That was an easy question to answer. It was when he had gifted her those yellow Converse; how shy he looked when he handed her the nicely wrapped box and how he tried to play it off cool and aloof despite his ears glowing red from anxiousness in the hopes that she would like the present. That was the moment Youngsoon knew that she had been fully accepted as family and was no longer the daughter of his father’s new wife.

Smiling nostalgically at the memory, Youngsoon carefully tied up the trash bag to bring out with her on her way to work. Her eyes lingered towards the balcony, one specific item metaphorically tugging at her and refusing to let her leave just yet.

Meanwhile, Jinyoung stood outside his flat, leaning against the wall waiting for Youngsoon. Today was a special day for him. Today Jinyoung was not going to accompany Youngsoon to Gureum; instead, he had somewhere else he had to be. Today was a new beginning.

“Oh crap I’m going to be so late!” Youngjae yelped, stumbling out of Jinyoung’s flat. “Say bye to Youngsoon for me! Oh and good luck on your first day of work!”

Youngjae’s words slid through the closing lift door just in time for Jinyoung to hear. Shaking his head at Youngjae’s flustered state, Jinyoung felt no sympathy for the male who spent all of yesterday drinking before blacking out. If anything, Jinyoung made a silent promise to never be like Youngjae. Sure, he had to learn to be more easygoing when it came to work, but Youngjae simply took it to another level.

“Was that Youngjae leaving?” Youngsoon mused, emerging from her flat with a black trash bag in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“The one and only,” Jinyoung sighed. “He wanted to say bye.”

“Yes, I heard.” Youngsoon chuckled, leading the way towards the lift.

Jinyoung kept a curious eye on the paper bag that Youngsoon seemed to be handling with great care, though something told him that it was best not to ask about its contents. He got his answer however a few minutes later when he caught a glimpse of familiar yellow peaking out of the bag when Youngsoon threw it away along with the trash bag. Youngsoon locked gazes with Jinyoung and the two exchanged a secretive and knowing smile.

“Let’s go shoe shopping once I get my first salary?” Jinyoung pondered out loud. “It’ll be my thank you present for you?”

“Thank you present? For me?” Youngsoon repeated the words.

“Yes, a thank you present.” Jinyoung nodded with