It was somewhere past two in the morning when he wakes up with a grand headache because he’s left the door to his balcony open. Sharp pain erupting in his back the soon he moves, and he realizes that he has fallen asleep in his couch again with the television on. He reaches for the remote control and flicks the screen off. The noise immediately subsides and his room gets dimmer, the only source of light coming from the kitchen.

Minhyuk gets up and stretches a bit before dragging his feet to the balcony. As he lets out a yawn, he hears some rackets from a distant. He initially assumes it’s just the drunkards down the streets as they clatter their way either back home or to yet another place to drink after being kicked out from the last one, but when he listens to it more, he realizes that the noise comes from the room next door. He identifies two different voices―one a soft, delicate yet sturdy and persistent female voice, the other a deep and husky voice that belongs to a man which Minhyuk guesses to be much older. He can’t make out the words being uttered except the constant yelling, and soon he hears the sound of the door being slammed.

The noise dies down, leaving him in an engulfing silence. He sees a figure of a lady approaching the next balcony and stands frozen on his feet as she lingers there, her hands resting on the metal railing and head hung low, her blonde hair covering most of her face. Minhyuk tries his best to not make a sound as he carefully slides his door to a close, but halfway it screeches.

She looks up and finds him in the darkness. His eyes meet his, and he quickly lowers his gaze, wishing to disappear right there and then. “Did you hear everything?” she asks.

He shakes his head in response a little too quickly. “Not really. In fact I didn’t hear anything at all.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “But in case you’re worried, don’t be. That was just my dad. Some misunderstandings ― that’s normal between us, you know.”

Minhyuk says nothing, and for a moment he thought her eyes glisten. He wonders if it is just the reflection of the lights from her house, or her tears. “Maybe it’s a stupid question to ask, but are you okay?”

She smiles at him, small but sincere. “That’s not a stupid question, Minhyuk. I appreciate you asking.”

When he catches her addressing his name, he raises a quizzical brow and realizes that they are not exactly strangers. He opens his mouth to speak, but she beats him to it.

“Can you do me a favour, Minhyuk?”

“What favour?”

“Don’t remember this incident. It’s alright to forget this one.”

The girl disappears before he can think of a response, leaving him with more questions. But despite her request, Minhyuk prays with all his might that he won’t forget.

--

It’s not a surprise that he did forget when he wakes up for work hours later. He begins his day as usual ― shower, change, breakfast, leave. And of course reading his notes in between.

And when he is about to leave for his evening job, there’s a girl waiting for him in front of his door all dressed up, her long golden hair falling perfectly behind her back, a flawless smile gracing her lips. “Can we go now?”

He blinks once, twice. “We?”

She nods twice. “We.”

Minhyuk stares at her, almost as if he’s registering her every detail into his brain. He thinks she seems familiar and rakes his brain to find her in his pool of memory. “Ah,” he lights up, the frown on his face instantly dissolves. “Joohee, right?”

“Took you long enough,” she replies. There is a grin on her lips but for some reason he senses that it doesn’t reach her eyes.

--

“She said she knows you,” Minhyuk exclaims the second he sees Eunkwang, pointing at the girl on his side. “Do you?”

The older boy darts his eyes at Joohee and pretends to be in deep thought. “Hmm, I don’t remember meeting you before. Are you pretending to be Minhyuk’s friend to get free drinks?”

“Hey!” she huffs.

Eunkwang laughs as she plops down on the seat opposite him while Minhyuk stays on his feet next to her, eyebrows quirking. Eunkwang catches his expression and smiles reassuringly. “We met the other day, don’t worry.”

“You should update your journal more often, you know,” Joohee comments.

Minhyuk shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants and shrugs. “Later,” he simply replies. “I’m gonna go change,” he adds, before taking his leave.

She watches his retreating figure and scans the place once he’s entered the staff room. It’s rather empty with no more than ten customers; some alone, some are deep in conversation while the others were only enjoying each other’s company in silence. Joohee turns back to face Eunkwang who is wiping the already clean counter out of habit and boredom. “Can I ask you something?” she begins, a bit hesitant and serious.

“Sure.”

“Um, Minhyuk mentioned about his mother once, and he said he doesn’t remember how she passed away and that he doesn’t have it recorded in his notebook.” She plays with her fingers as she speaks, tracing the table and drawing random images and alphabets with her fingertip. “I was thinking maybe you’d know?”

He stares into her eyes for a moment as he lets her words and question sink into his mind. His lips curl into a small smile and he lowers his gaze. He pulls a stool from under the counter and sits right across her. “How long have you moved here again?”

“About a month.”

“I’m surprised he’s already told you that much,” he confesses. “But then again maybe I’m not.”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “You two seem close, I mean for two people who just met, especially for Minhyuk, because after the accident I’ve never seen him being close to anyone. It’s like he doesn’t bother to. He did, back then, try to keep in touch with his friends, old and new. But somewhere along the way somehow he grew frustrated because they all keep moving on while he needs to start all over again at the same point. I don’t know how to explain it to you, but it’s different with you. I thought he’d stop talking about you after a week or so, but he didn’t, so I figured maybe you’re different.” He pauses for a while and meets her gaze. “And you are.”

“Different how?”

“You don’t treat him as a new fascinating subject. You don’t grow tired of him forgetting things. You don’t befriend him just because you sympathize him. You’re sincere,” he explains. “At least that’s what I think.”

She smiles hearing that. “You think so?”

“Unless you’re a great actress.”

She chuckles. “So, do you know?”

“I do.”

“Can you tell me?”

Eunkwang lets out a sigh and looks around. He catches the sight of Minhyuk at one corner, cleaning a table and picking out some small bits of papers and food and other trivial things from the rug and getting lost in his own thoughts in between. “She was with him,” Eunkwang finally answers. “It was the same accident that made him this way. They were together, and he was the one driving the car. He lost his memory, sort of. His mother lost her life.”

There was a silence between them. Joohee keeps her gaze fixed on her hands, her fingers stop drawing circles on the table. “He’s the cause,” she concludes for him, exhaling the air she didn’t realize she has been holding in.

“You can put it that way,” he nods.

“That’s why you don’t want him to know.”

“That’s why I don’t want him to know.”

--

Joohee waits for him outside as Minhyuk helps Eunkwang with the closing. The street is filled with people despite the time, and she wonders if Seoul ever sleeps. She looks up at the sky and smiles at the sight of the countless stars, wondering if his mother is one of them.

Then the door opens and Minhyuk appears. “You don’t have to wait for me, you know,” he tells her when she tries to stifle down a yawn.

“It’s okay. I want to,” she replies.

They walk in silence without exchanging another word. Their hand occasionally brushes against each other. She gazes at the people passing by and wonders what could be the story behind the masks they’re wearing before glancing at him. “Hey, Minhyuk?”

“Hmm?”

She studies his face quietly until he turns to meet her eyes. Her lips stretch into a smile. “I’m hungry.”