“Do you want me to come with you?”

Jongup had said no, then.

He regrets his choice.

He stands outside BTD cafe, fingers wringing nervously random patterns in the air as he looks through the semi-transparent glass, a layer of cold vapour shading the view inside to passers-by on the streets.

He can still see something, though.

Jongup cannot help but start assessing the part of the customers of the cafe that he can see from the angle he is standing at. The man at the corner sipping on his drink, or the lady dressed elegantly in a one-piece white dress, or maybe the man decked out in normal office clothing, face hidden beneath the newspaper?

Which one is it?

He enters the cafe, apprehension building up immediately. A waitress greets him but he ignores her, pulling out the piece of paper with all the information written on it.

How do you tell them your name? You just tell them your name, or...

“Table for one, sir?” The waitress persists.

“Uh, no...” Jongup starts off, faltering towards the end. “I’m here on an a... ppointment? And uh, my name is—”

“Moon Jongup-ssi, am I right?” The waitress cuts him off short and he nods dumbly, wondering how she knows his name. “We’ve only one special appointment client today. Here, follow me.”

She leads him into the back part of the cafe, hidden from normal customers’ view. Pulling apart the seemingly heavy seperator curtains, she nods once as though urging him in.

Jongup lingers at the door.

“Come in,” a smooth, deep voice urges, coming from behind the curtain. “Jongup, right?”

 

__________________

He stares at the ground.

What he had thought is just a one, or two persons meeting.

He didn’t expect the whole family to come.

“This is him?” A somewhat disbelieving voice speaks up, “the dongsaeng we lost?”

“Yes, Jongdae. Your younger brother.” The first voice answers, which Jongup has guessed is his father.

“Dear, you should say something. We really thought we’ve lost you for good.” A gentle, feminine voice encourages him, though all Jongup does is stare at his feet.

And continues staring.

“Tell us your name.” His father tries making conversation.

Don’t you already know that?

But he speaks up, anyway. “Moon... Moon Jongup.”

“Moon?” His father continues, amusement in his voice. “Why out of all the family names, Moon?”

“The people in the orphanage say they found me on the day of the full moon...”

“Ah. But you don’t remember your own family name? Kim?”

“They said I was involved in an accident and I lost my memory,” Jongup’s voice is getting smaller.

“Oh dear. Life must have been hard for you.”

“It wasn’t,” he admits sheepishly. “Someone rich adopted me.”

“You’re one of the juniors in Kirin High,” the other guy, who Jongup assumes is his second brother, suddenly speaks up. “I’ve seen you dance before. Boy, you’re good.”

“Really, Jongin? He can dance?” His father sharply cuts in.

Jongin nods. “It’s him alright. I’ve always remembered that Jongup has small eyes. And his name, also. Which father is lame enough to name his sons so that they can be Jongnight, Jongout and Jongdown opposite?”

“Manners, Jongin.”

“Sorry. But it’s the truth.”

“Jonghun,” his father suddenly calls, and a black figure steps out, bowing slightly. “You help young master Jongup here get his stuff to the house and show him around. Afterwards, bring him to the company.”

“Yes, master.”

“And which person is lame enough to hire butlers with names as similar as his own sons? And which person is lame enough to hire butlers who look so much more handsomer than his own owns?”

His father coughs. “Jongin, control yourself.”

“People will think Jongup is serving Jonghun-ssi instead of the other way round.”

“Jongin! And go with Jonghun, Jongup.”

“If you don’t, Jonghun will eat you up whole.”

Jongup can’t help but crack a small smile at Jongin’s new random statement.

 

__________________

“Don’t worry, I don’t eat people.” The man named Jonghun clarifies as soon as they are out of earshot.

They are driving through the busy streets of Seoul, various shops already lighting up as it is getting quite late.

When the car turns into familiar streets, an uneasy feeling creeps onto Jongup. He his lips nervously, and somehow he is more nervous than when he was meeting his parents.

“This house, is it?”

Jongup nods in confirmation and the car engine dies as they come to a stop in the driveway. The lights are , but Jongup doesn’t hesitate as he goes to the furthest bush from the door and sticks his arm in it, until he finds a silver key encrusted with mud.

The door opens before he can stick the key in.

“You found the extra key,” Kyumi comments before moving away to let him in.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Let me guess, it went well and now your parents want you to move in with them.”

He doesn’t reply, but is filled with slight doubt. /i How does she know?

As if answering his lost question, Kyumi says, “I have my connections.” /i And I told Jongin to be extra nice to you.

“And,” Kyumi starts off, but falters. “I know you won’t like it but I helped you pack. And everything is inside. I checked three times already.”

Jongup spots the few suitcases lying at one side of the room, and still, without saying anything, goes over and picks them up.

He is almost already out of the door when Kyumi suddenly bursts out;

“Are you not going to say anything?”

Jongup pauses for a moment, but the only phrase crossing his mind seems too explicit to say.

“Thanks,” he blurts out, and slams the door before he says anything else.

Jongup stands outside, staring at the white, wooden door. He backs away several steps, so that the entire house is in his line of sight.

I’ll miss you.

 

__________________

To: Junhong that idiot
From: Yongguk

I don’t believe you. :(


To: Yongguk the even stupider hyung
From: Junhong

Too bad. (: You have to go along with your promise hyung~


To: Junhong the idiotic idiot
From: Yongguk

Okay. But you do something else first.


To: Yongguk hyung stop playing with contact names
From: Junhong

? o _ o


To: Junhong
From: Yongguk

I’ll call you to brief you about it.

To: Junhong
From: Yongguk

(:<


 

__________________

She looks to the right, she looks to the left.

Then, she looks in front.

No, Soyeon is not crossing the road. She half runs, half walks along the corridor, her hands cradling a ‘package’ messily wrapped in cloth.

For maximum protection.

She gives a small sigh of relief when she spots the empty, darkened classroom, knowing her classmates will not arrive that early in the morning. Neither would she, on a normal day.

Soyeon checks her watch. 6:45am. She glances at the bundle in her hands and gently sets it on his table before carefully unwrapping it.

Where should I put it?

She bends down, eyeing the small space under the table. Needless to say, it is filled with books, papers, and random stuff.

No place for a camera.

Putting it on the table will be too obvious, and someone may knock it over if she leaves it on the chair. A determined frown appears on her face as she sits down, staring at the offending object.

That’s it.

Soyeon sets the camera carefully onto the table, before stowing all the protective cloth in her bag. Not taking her eyes off the precious object, she silently scoots back to her own seat and starts watching from there.

Little does she know that someone is watching her.

Jung Daehyun cracks an amused grin as he stands by the doorway, arms crossed, shadows of the doorframe shielding him from view. He spots the girl supporting her head with her hand as she yawns.

It doesn’t take five minutes before she falls asleep.

And then Daehyun slips into the classroom, grinning as he holds up his precious baby.

Click.

 

__________________

Soyeon awakes with a jolt.

A second jolt follows when she realises that it’s daylight and half the class is already there, chattering away.

And then she realises that it’s gone.

But she is quickly relieved when she spots a haversack slumped on the chair of the desk where she has left the camera, a dull black camera bag hanging off the back of the chair.

That’s weird. He always carries his camera bag with him.

Wait. How do you know that?

She sits back onto her own chair, puzzled by the workings of her own subconscious when something rectangular and blue catches her attention.

Her sketchbook!

Soyeon snatches it up, staring at it in mild wonder. It’s been so long that she doesn’t even remember that she hasn’t had it in her possession for a long time.

And then she spots a similarly colored post-it stuck on the cover of the sketchbook. On it, three words are messily scrawled but still legible;

고마워.*
* — gomawo/thank you

 

________________________________________________

“Is this a video camera?”

“Yeap.”

“Are we really doing this?” Sohyun crosses her arms, an indignant look on her face. Junhong sighs.

“Come on, it’ll be fun! It’ll be like We Got Married. Right?”

“It’ll be fun for you, not me,” Sohyun mutters darkly as she trudges grudgingly behind the taller boy, kicking at the pebbles on the pavement.

Junhong ignores her, and raising the video camera high above his head, grins.

“Camera set in three... two... one!”

 

__________________

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Youngjae opens his eyes, and takes a deep sigh. The diary lies harmlessly on the table in front of him, but somehow, he doesn’t dare to open. He knows that the book’s been touched before— and it probably has a new reply, but he isn’t all that sure he can tolerate another round of insults, penned in words.

He flips to the first page, and takes a considerably long time to flip till the last written entry.

And then his eyes widen with genuine shock, his heartbeat rate rising steadily as the meaning of the words sink in.

‘You’re forgiven.’