His heart gradually picked up, so he walked a little faster. This part of the city seemed to be spinning around him. The clear sky quickly molting with the dull gray buildings as he tried not to jump to conclusions. Blocks of heads. Flashes of colors. The smells of grease and perfume buzzed around him.

His own footsteps beat in his ears loudly. Sehun came to a stop when a force snagged his shirt. Whirling around at the speed of light he heard, “Where are you going?”

It was Namjoo.

He let out a weird sound of frustration. Opened his mouth to yell at her for disappearing then thought better of it.

It was those eyes again. Big and searching.

Engulfing him.

Observing her he spotted some papers in her arms. “What’s that?”

“Someone was handing out pamphlets,” Namjoo showed them off to him. “I was thinking, I should get a job.”

♥♥♥♥♥

A job would be the most normal thing a normal person had in their lifetime. Not some big job like her father or mother’s, but something a big portion of the population left their homes to do.

Like Sehun.

“It’s enriching. New experiences open ours eyes to different perspectives in our lives…” was something she’d heard before flocking over to see what was going on. Someone from campus was promoting a job fair or something of the like.

Yes, Namjoo agreed, she was right. She should have thought of that before.

Getting a job.

Like Sehun.

“A job?” He seemed to scrutinize her.

“Why not?” Repeating what she’d heard, “New experiences enrich our perspectives.”

His gaze shot aside then to her, “Have you had a job before?”

“Well…” Namjoo tapped a pamphlet against her chin, then admitting, “no.”

“Then give it up.” Striding past her he continued the opposite way.

Circling around to follow him, Namjoo pressed, “Why not? What makes you think that about me?”

“Because!” his tone rose as did the intensity in his deep chocolate irises. Exhaling he said more calmly, “How old are you?”

Namjoo blinked. Flustered, taken aback. “Is that important?”

“Yes, it’s important.” He verified.

“Well…I’m twenty-one.”

“Twenty-one,” he repeated in a tone of dubiety.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You’re still a student.” He clearly stated. “You don’t even have a degree. You have no experience. You have no life skill. You have no reference. Is there anything special you can say about yourself? Then no, you won’t be able to find a job.”

“Why are you looking down on me?” Her brows drew together. “What are you getting so riled up for? You have a job, why can’t I get one?”

His eyes abruptly fluttered. Sehun inched back timidly, as if woken up from some kind of spell. Biting his lower lip, he wheeled away from her saying as he walked off, “Forget it. I’m going home.”

“But I’m not done!” Namjoo held up her bags. She hadn’t bought enough clothes, but Sehun was already retreating, the image of his back becoming smaller in the distance. “Wait for me!”

She didn’t want to get lost. She didn’t even know his address. Or how to ride a bus back to where they came from. Where was she supposed to find a cab around here? She didn’t want to be alone. How was she supposed to find him again?

Scurrying forward Namjoo hurled past faces, the smell of food that made her stomach ache, and then she slammed right into him.

Sehun budged just barely, but he was pretentiously looking elsewhere.

“Come on.” Was all he said then moved away from her.

What was his problem?

Sehun was in front a corndog stand. Joining him in line Namjoo leaned to the side to peek at the lady currently dipping one in hot oil. Salivating she her lips. She’d never been allowed to stroll around street markets, taste street delicacies, food for cheap. It’s disgusting, not hygienic, you’ll just get sick she’d been told. And the cooks don’t ever wash their hands, but the stall owner was wearing gloves and even had a mask to prevent spit from getting on the food.

The fresh smell of an oven roasted snack made her stomach rumble. She hadn’t had anything all day besides the strawberry smoothie Sehun had given her. She didn’t cook and she hadn’t ravaged Sehun’s kitchen for snacks, see what he kept in his fridge. Actually, it never occurred to her maybe she could have.

“I’ll take two.” She heard when the customer before them left.

Grinning from ear to ear she hopped forward to stand next to him. Eagerly chewing her lower lip as a minute passed, then finally Sehun traded payment for the food.

“It’s hot.” He cautioned handing the napkin wrapped stick over.

The heat was still flowing off, so she blew on it just once. Taking a giant bite and burning her tongue in the process. Panting like a dog Namjoo hurried chewed one, two times before swallowing it whole. Fanning , she in cool air.

Pausing she turned to find Sehun staring at her. Caught, he looked elsewhere taking a bite of his own corndog. She giggled when he, too, burned his tongue.

“Hot?” she delightfully asked.

His cheeks slightly flushed. “It’s fine.”

Cheerful again she wrapped her hand around his arm, dragging him along. “I want to go look over there.”

On the way back Sehun took majority of her buys from her. Back at his house he dropped them off in the storage room eyeing the boxes she’d moved.

“Oh…I moved them,” she explained the obvious. “There’s a window in the back, you know. Unless you don’t like it, I’ll put it back.”

“Suit yourself.” He said. “I’m going to get dinner ready.”

When his footsteps disappeared Namjoo sat down to sort through her purchases. Excited to decide what she’ll wear tomorrow, the day after, and in the days coming. To look like everyone else. To be like them. She couldn’t wait to be one of them, mix with them, be like them.

Opening her suitcase, she glanced into the top pocket where a white envelope was not so discreetly hidden. It contained the rest of the money she’d withdrawn from the bank.

♥♥♥♥♥

Pulling out a pan Sehun stared down at the black bracelet around his wrist. Namjoo had literally held him as if he was her prisoner the rest of the time at the shopping street. Could still feel her small hand wrapped around his arm. Still remember her cutely reacting to the burning corndog.

Remember the first day he took her order. When, as the downstairs neighbor turned to leave the counter, he’d seen her.

His breath had held.

Today she was pretty. In that expensive frilly dress.

“Can I help?” He jolted at her voice. Amusement lit her face. “Did I scare you?”

Shifting around he said, “No, I don’t need your help.”

“Then,” the word droned, her voice tickled his ears, “let me watch you cook.”

Never minding her he went about his normal tasks; rinsing vegetables, slicing meat, drizzling oil into the heated pan, and then his kitchen smelled of food and the stench of meat and fresh steaming rice that roused one’s hunger.

At his counter Namjoo beamed over his dinner. Every jittery emotion visible in those eyes, big and bright.

“Thank you for the meal,” she beamed, adding, “and the corndog.”

His heart did a funny thing from the other side of the counter where he was standing. He shouldn’t let her get to him, but he peeked when she scooped a giant spoonful into . She was cute and something about it made him feel a little lively.

“Sorry, for getting worked up earlier,” he apologized, “if you want a job…”

“Is your coffeeshop hiring?” she cut him off expertly the way she had always been doing since following him.

“What?” dropped from his lips even though his brain had fully comprehended her question.

He was such a .

“Well, you’re right.” she agreed. “I don’t have life skills or experience. I haven’t graduated, but you can help get me in. You can refer me.”

Suddenly he was flustered. Sehun hadn’t expected her to outsmart him like this, because everything she’d said had a point.

“I don’t know if you want to know work there.” He mumbled stirring his food.

“Why not? You don’t enjoy working there? I thought you looked happy at the counter.”

Sehun’s mouth opened, but only air came out. He wasn’t there because he loved it. He wanted to say there was a difference between his normal voice and his customer voice; his mask of a smile and his honest expression; what he truly felt deep inside when dealing with people and working in that place. He wanted to explain there is a thin line between good days and bad days; the people he worked with and the customers he served.

Even if he disliked the coffeeshop, where else could he go? Big companies didn’t accept him. Other workplaces could only be better or worse than where he was now. In this day and time his goals and dreams were just too farfetched. He was trapped in this menial life.

“Why are you here?”

That was right. He wanted to know why daughter of a conglomerate empire had come to here; to the coffeeshop, following him on a whim to his crackdown of a place. Where was her comfortable home where her bed was twice the size of his, her bedroom larger than his apartment?

Sehun glanced down as a white envelope slid his way. “I promised to pay boarding. And you’re my Teacher Normal from now on.”

“Forget it.” He shoved it back to her. In his entire life he’d never smooched off anyone, not even when he had to quit school and help pay for his father’s surgery expenses.

Stubbornly sliding it over, Namjoo said, “Keep it. You can use it to buy another chair for your counter. Instead of standing you should eat comfortably and sit by me.”

“I’m comfortable.” He interjected successfully.

“Then, you’ll keep the money?” She stared up at him expectantly, like a child waiting for her father’s permission to go out.

“I…” did not say I would, but she, again, cut him off.

“Good,” Namjoo piped up excited. “From now on, you can teach me how to be normal. And you’ll help me get a job?”

“What is with you and normal?”

“I’m looking for someone.” Her eyes went dreamy. “You might not have noticed, but where I’m from I’ll never be able to find him. We can just say, it’s complicated. Since you’re my friend, you’ll help me, right?”

♥♥♥♥♥

Namjoo looked forward to it. Being able to do things for herself on her own accord. In the entirety of her life this was her first shot at being independent.

How exciting!

Unable to sleep, Namjoo got up. Inching through the stack of boxes she crossed over to the tiny square window. It wasn’t facing the street leaving Namjoo to stare at the development on the other side. The house was dark. Looked like the same quad-unit Sehun lived in. Must be people sleeping, recharging for the next day’s ordeals.

A dainty smile cradled her lips. Happy imagining people waking and energetically going out to complete their dues, their responsibilities. Their lives must be fulfilling. Unlike the only teacher she’d known in her life. Mr. Gong who homeschooled her on all subjects; world events, history, math, science, literature, economics, business. Everything she’d taken entertainment from was in her own backyard.

Out here, there was so much Namjoo was hungry to get a taste of everything. She wanted Sehun to show her a lot more, because she didn’t know anyone else.

Thinking about it, she was lucky she remembered him from her father’s office. Recalling nothing about the resume, but she’d seen his picture and it had stuck out to her. Spinning around Namjoo glanced at the mountain of boxes. What did Sehun keep in them?

Unable to sleep she might as well rummage a little. If there was anything personal, she’d pretend she never saw it but all she found were worn-out clothes and shoes, old CDs and DVDs, unused picture frames, torn leather wallets, comic books, dried out pens and markers, boring literature, and miscellaneous junk unimportant to Namjoo.

Then the heavy box she’d dropped was all that was left. Now that she’d removed the boxes on top that she’d previously used to hide it, Namjoo plopped onto the floor. Prying open the cover she peered inside. A giant five-subject notebook stared up at her. The deep blue cover still seemed new.

Picking it up Namjoo saw that the corners were still in good shape. Flipping it over she saw scribbled notes all in legible handwriting, filling the entire page over to the next. Half the pages were left blank, but in the folder compartment that separated the subjects the heading read Data Management Syllabus in bold letters.

It was the same the next four sections. The notetakings conscientiously engraved on the first half pages, the last half void and blank as if Sehun didn’t care to write anymore. Namjoo saw printed PDFs and graded homework in the folder compartments.

Putting down the notebook Namjoo dug further inside the box. Pulling out textbook after textbook. Calculus. Algorithm. Computer Architecture 101. Computer Science Theory. At the very bottom she pulled out a magazine. The front cover portrayed students walking on a building-studded campus. Yeonsei University in big gold letters across the cover.

Inside offered a glossary detailing offered courses, majors, the gpa system, and so on and so on. Sehun had circled engineering and computer sciences, even written off to the side some notes. She recognized a column of dollar signs; Sehun budgeting his expenses diligently.

Seeing this piqued her.

♥♥♥♥♥

Looking for someone…

Sehun stared up at the dark of his ceiling. Pictured the day he found Namjoo sleeping inside Starry Café. Waking up when the downstairs neighbor appeared. Unseeing Sehun and staring at him.

Him…huh?

Did Namjoo know she was closer than she thought she was? Or maybe she’d followed him on purpose?

The thought of being used lodged inside his throat. This . As if he needed to be dealing with something like this right now.

Angling an arm over his eyes he really wanted to just fall asleep.

The next morning Namjoo’s eyes seemed to follow him wherever he went. When he glanced at her with, “What?”

She shrugged, “Nothing. But you’ll ask about the job?”

He didn’t answer. He cooked and ate silently. Washed dishes silently, because he didn’t feel it right to ask someone like Kim Namjoo to do chores.

“I don’t have another copy of my keys,” Sehun explained on his way out, “so if you leave, lock the door. Do you know your way around?”

“It’s not like I was Rapunzel, locked up in some tower.” Namjoo joked.

He gave her just one glance as he slipped into his shoes. Two days later and he still didn’t understand her. Why someone high up voluntarily came down. To find a man who didn’t know she existed?

It was unfathomable.

On the way out he wondered what was his problem. Shaking it off he turned in for work. Midway through the day the black bracelet became more of an eyesore than he wanted it to. Whenever he handed a receipt over, whenever he made orders, whenever he cleaned the lobby, whenever he fed the stray cats in the alley, he saw it hanging off his wrist more than not.

Coming back inside he found Duho in the kitchen. Alone. Good. Clearing his throat at the doorway he waited to be noticed.

“Sehun, I didn’t see you.” Duho pulled a giant tray out of the oven. The fresh smell of cooked buns assaulted the air. Sehun’s nose twitched.

“I was just wondering about something.”

“Yea? What is it?” Taking off his oven mitts Duho observed his fresh bake before turning to him. Waiting.

“Do you think we should get a part-timer?”

Duho’s brows rose at the suggestion.

“Uh…never mind.” Sehun started leaving.

“Is someone asking?” Duho questioned.

“Well, a friend was wondering. That’s all.” Sehun tried an awkward laugh. A friend. Damn it. Now he was even repeating Namjoo.

“I guess why not. Bring him in and I’ll see.” Duho grinned.

Now that that was over, Sehun made it through the rest of the day levelheaded. One thing off his list at last. By the end of his shift, it finally dawned on him he hadn’t mentioned anything about lunch to Namjoo. A girl like her probably had never touched a stove in her life or looked in the fridge for food.

No life skills he remembered telling her.

Sighing, he bought a sandwich and smoothie as he left. Namjoo was starving most likely. Sehun expected her to be inside and waiting. Where could she go? She’d never ridden a bus. To grab a cab, she had to walk several blocks to the wider streets. Did she know her way around this area?

But as Sehun neared home he saw Namjoo wasn’t alone at all.

She was in front of the housing unit. Wearing long shorts and an over-sized pink t-shirt. Appearing cozy. Fitting right in with the colorless tone of the neighborhood. Like she was one of them. Just what she wanted.

And she was laughing, shyly smiling from ear to ear.

And she wasn’t alone.

It was the downstairs neighbor.

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***notice everything is about her right now. She hasn't stoopped a moment to find out who he is and she hasn't exactly told him she ran away in order not to go abroad

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