Rain has just washed through the morning rain, the sky a clear blue color. Between the hues of the neon lights and the tall skyscrapers, the metropolis of Seoul once again awakens to welcome a brand new day. The temperature in the air seems to drop through the night, forewarning the approach of a new season.

  Autumn is finally coming to an end, winter soon approaching along with the festive season brought along with Christmas. Everyone seems to be in anticipation of the first snow, the chatters especially loud in Jongdae’s studio. His classmates are laughing over silly jokes, gathered in their own clique. Jongdae’s as usual, seated quietly by his own table, not really expecting anyone to approach him.

  “Don’t you think Paris is a nice place to spend Christmas?”

  “We’ve been to Paris thrice, Soojung; can’t we go somewhere else this time?”

  “How about Dubrovnik then, I heard it’s a gorgeous place to visit.”

  Excitement seems to filter through the place, infecting anyone within its proximity. It’s probably the reason why even Jongdae feels happier than usual, the corner of his lips quirked into a soft smile as he scribbled some more into his little notebook. He ends up getting pulled into a quick conversation here and there, though awkward at the interaction.

  Ms. Tiffany walks into the class with her signature eye smile, her floral salmon-pink dress flowy against the wind, on time as usual. She clears four times with a look of exasperation as she tries to get her class focus on her for the very last lesson of the year.

  “Just listen to me one last time won’t you guys,” Ms. Tiffany laughs with an eye roll at her students’ antics, “There’s nothing much to say, I’d have to admit. Just a final confirmation, has anyone applied for the year-end performance? If you have, take the time to practice okay?”

  Like a sharp needle that burst the tiny balloon of infected joy within him, he’s suddenly feeling empty. Fingers tightened their grip against the pen he’s holding, and the corner of Jongdae’s lip isn’t quirking anymore. He closes his eyes and heaves a soft sigh, the mention of the performance does nothing but bothers him.

  He knows Ms. Tiffany’s looking at his general direction, but he avoids her gaze. Partly because he doesn’t want to be tempted even further, partly because he didn’t want to look at her and see the disappointment in her eyes because they both know that Jongdae hasn’t sign up (and they can’t be sure if he’ll sign up at all).

  “Just as a reminder, the deadline ends in 2 weeks. Please sign up if you haven’t, take the last chance to shine, alright? Don’t let your talents go to waste, there’s a reason why you’re in this school.”

  Biting his lower lips, Jongdae accidently tears the paper of the page he’s scribbling on, using too much strength. He sneaks a glance at Ms. Tiffany, knowing fully well that that speech is meant for him. But for now – for now – he’s still too afraid, unable to find his courage.

  The shrill ring of the bell cuts through the tensed atmosphere that seems to be suffocating him. Everyone around him laughs in glee at the signification of the holidays that finally came. For the music majors, school has officially ended for them and it’s the holidays until the graduation ceremony.

  Jongdae’s deep in his own thoughts, knowing that he’d have nothing to do during the holidays anyway. He knows his classmates already have plans; the girls (Soojung, Ara and Sunyoung) are still bickering about which country they’re going to celebrate Christmas at. The soccer boys (Chanyeol, Jongsuk, Woobin and Taemin) are loud as usual, talking about the part-time jobs that they’d be getting.

  Everyone seems busy chatting with each other, laughing over silly jokes and funny incidents that happened in the past week (one of their teachers is getting married and another up-skirt herself when she tripped over the stairs). Jongdae walks out last, like usual, only to be called back.

  “Ms. Tiffany?” he calls out weakly, his eyes shying away from her gaze. He had expected to be called on, but he was half-hoping that it wouldn’t happen, desperate to walk away before she really does.

  “Jongdae, the deadline is in 2 weeks, you’ll be signing up right?” Ms. Tiffany asks, hesitant and unsure because she really hopes he does, but she knows it’s difficult for him to really do it. A soft sigh slipped past her lips as she ruffles his hair lightly.

  “I– give me some time, Ms. Tiffany,” Jongdae sighs lightly, bowing lightly and bites down the whine that almost rose from his throat in indignation at having his hair messed up. “I’ll keep the deadline in mind.”

  (And he’s gone before she can say another word, because he’s really, really unsure.)

  The Christmas tree that Minseok gotten for the café ends up being a bit too tall, so when Jongdae reaches the café the first thing he sees is Sehun on a ladder t the tree with hope of not damaging it too much. He couldn’t stop the chuckle that slip past his lips as he listens to Sehun’s under-the-breath mumbling as the younger curses Minseok out.

  The glass are sprayed with white frost to give a visual of snow, and Jongdae stares at them proudly because he’s the one who pasted the stickers on two days ago. Everyone’s wearing a Santa hat even though they all know Santa Claus doesn’t exist. Minseok insists on wearing the hats because he says Sehun looks adorable in it, to which Sehun kicked him in the shin.

  (But Jongdae also knows Minseok was tempted to get cat ears headbands, but considering Sehun, he might have valued his life more.)

  Ever since the start of his holidays, Jongdae found himself going to the café every day. He really hates it when there’s nothing to do in his already miserable little life, so at least this job gave him meaning. He found himself laughing to some things Minseok’s telling him as he makes his drinks.

  The bell to the door tinkles and Jongdae immediately knows who is it even before raising his head to mumble a welcome. Lu Han comes in to the café every single day at around the same timing, and by now Jongdae already knows when Lu Han’s coming. He starts making Lu Han’s drink by the time he’s at the counter and rambling off the same order to Minseok.

  “That’s either a long essay, or you just like to ramble,” Jongdae comments off-handedly, a glint of teasing in his eyes as he hands Lu Han’s drink over. Said Chinese boy chuckled as he juggled the drink with his laptop and thick textbooks, something he seems to have gotten very skillful at over the past few days.

  “It’s just a long essay,” Lu Han replies with a playful wink, grinning at the tease Jongdae threw at him. He didn’t realize Jongdae was someone who’d joke around, since every time he tried to converse with him, the barista seems to be someone who doesn’t like to talk at all. “Though I do admit I love to ramble as well.”

  Jongdae snorts in reply before he could stop himself, raising the brows of both Minseok and Sehun. Lu Han’s back to his usual seats. Jongdae sneaks a glance at Lu Han one last time before focusing back on his never ending line of drinks to do, ignoring Sehun’s questions.

  “Joonmyeon will be around for the next few days,” Minseok informs them.

  “Oh gosh, finally. When was the last time he even came down?” Sehun drawls in reply, but excitement can be felt in his usual monotone voice, “Is Joonmyeon even the actual owner of this café.”

  “You sure you’re not the secret owner of something?” Jongdae asks along with Sehun’s skeptical gaze on Minseok, the both of them had been curious about this since the first day they worked at the café.

  Minseok was the one who interviewed both of them, and they had only seen Joonmyeon around for a few times. The times when they met, Joonmyeon didn’t even do anything that made him seems remotely like the café’s owner. It’s only normal that they’d be suspicious about the whole thing.

  Minseok groans at the question (because it’s definitely not the first time they pestered him) but doesn’t answer, only delivering two knocks to their heads. Jongdae bites back a curse that Sehun definitely will not bite back and Minseok’s escaping for his life because Sehun’s a violent brat.

  “Must be for the Christmas celebration,” Sehun mumbles when he’s back to help Jongdae. Between the three of them there’s a way on how they work things out with the lack of workers. Minseok’s always the one behind the counter, because Sehun’s too sardonic and Jongdae doesn’t speak up.

  Between the two younger barista, they alternate around between making hot drinks and cold drinks. At times when they get more customers, at least this is how they manage the orders without messing up; though Sehun isn’t around most of the time because of his upcoming entrance examinations for college.

  Sehun makes out whatever time he can makes out because he knows he’s needed, but Minseok and Jongdae doesn’t force the young student. The only time when Jongdae had ever seen Sehun talk about something that excites him was that one time when Sehun was telling him about his passion for dancing.

  “Well, it’s a nice thing anyway, it’s been too long since we’ve met up with Joonmyeon,” Jongdae agrees. He likes Joonmyeon enough, the said guy being a very optimistic and gentle person. From the little interactions that they had, Jongdae is very sure Joonmyeon is a very nice guy.

  “Sehun, we’re running out of milk! But the next batch of milk doesn’t come until next week. Go and buy two dozen for now,” Minseok calls from the back kitchen.

  “Why am I always the one making the grocery trips,” Sehun whines with a small pout, but it doesn’t waver Minseok who knocks on his head once. He ushers Sehun out of the café with the exact change, utterly ignoring the whines that rumbles from Sehun’s throat.

  Sehun always whine when Minseok gives him tasks to do outside of the café, but nevertheless, the younger male always does the job well. Jongdae chuckles as he watches them go, it’s just the way how Sehun and Minseok interact around each other. Despite how it seems to others, Sehun really listens to Minseok a lot.

  It wasn’t even long when Sehun had gone grocery shopping when Minseok answered a call. Jongdae watches as Minseok’s face paled, and then he’s rushing out of the café without words; Jongdae stares, utterly bewildered by the sudden change.

  Dragging his exhausted self out of his café, he makes his way back to his apartment. He’s happy that he has things to do; knowing that if he was left alone to laze around in his apartment, he’d probably be feeling quite depressed every day.

  The constant workload helps with his sleeping too, though his sleeping pattern is still as abnormal compared to normal people. Like his mother’s words, as long as he worked hard enough and get tired, he’d be able to sleep easier. Yawning, Jongdae flips through his notebook, eyeing the music notes within.

  “Urgh,” he randomly throws the notebook to a side in frustration. He isn’t sure what he’s being frustrated at, but he knows he is. Sulking to himself, he makes himself a cup of warm milk because the last time he drank it, he knows it soothes him. He didn’t expect himself to get addicted to heated milk, since the first time he drank it he didn’t like the taste.

  “The year-end performance…” he mumbles to himself, pressing his lips to the edge of the mug and sipping irregularly. He should sign up and perform, shouldn’t he? Ms. Tiffany believes in his talent, even if he doesn’t believe in himself.

  It’s not that Jongdae is that much of a coward. Back in the countryside, not many people have dreams. With reality constantly slapping them awake in the face, they learnt to focus only on the things that they can do. When his peers realized that he could sing, most of them berated him for having such an unrealistic dream.

  Only later Jongdae would understand that jealousy is a very scary thing, but by then he’s already too damaged. Their words had been sharp, inflicting wounds that they didn’t know would last, telling him that he couldn’t sing and his voice was horrendous. Jongdae stopped singing around them, and soon stopped mentioning about his unrealistic dreams of being a singer.

  Jongdae sighs because that’s just stupid of him. He shouldn’t allow such memories to hinder him, but he’s afraid. He faced that kind of pain once; he didn’t want to face them again. What if people didn’t like his singing if he performed at the year-end performance? He doesn’t think he’s able to handle the same agony twice.

  Humming lightly to himself, he leans himself against the railing of his balcony, admiring the view of the night sky. It always calms Jongdae down, every time he gazes at the stars twinkling above. It amazes him all the time, knowing the universe is so vast.

  He thinks about what happens during the day, wondering just what the call about was that got Minseok so flustered. Jongdae had never seen Minseok with such a pale face before, as if he’s dreading something that happened. Lu Han had looked up from where he was sitting at and threw a look at Jongdae who could only shrug his shoulders in response.

  Even after Sehun returned, Minseok did not. They had to close the café themselves, something that they had never done before because no matter what happened, Minseok will always be there. Both of them were pretty worried since Minseok never even called to update them, but they’ll trust him on this.

  “It probably isn’t anything bad,” Jongdae tells himself, shrugging the worry out of his mind. Parting his lips to sing, the night suddenly went a lot darker. Jongdae’s eyes widened in the darkness of the black out, then a shrill scream filled his ears as he dropped his mug in surprise.

  “,” Jongdae curses to himself, using the glint of the moonlight to gather up the shattered pieces with his bare hands. A soft hiss of agony pass his lips as broken shards cut through his flesh and blood flowed out of the wound.

  He didn’t dare to hesitate for a moment though; the scream gave him a very big shock. He’s much worried about the person who made the scream than the little cuts he got. Clearing the place in a quick mess, he dumped the pile of shattered glass into his dustbin and ran towards where he thinks he heard the scream come from.

  “Are you alright!” Jongdae asks through labored breathing, eyes squinting to locate the person within the apartment in the darkness. The door happens to be unlocked, though he wouldn’t ask why. He’s not afraid of the dark, but that doesn’t mean he can see in it.

  “I’m fine,” a soothing voice replies him and Jongdae’s strike with familiarity. He knows he heard that voice somewhere before, but he couldn’t remember where. He manoeuvers to where he thinks the person is at, until his foot kicks the person. Muttering a quick apology, he grabs the person and locates the sofa just beside them.

  “Is that you, Jongdae?” the smooth voice asks, and Jongdae freezes in his spot. Staring blankly at a person he can’t see, he wonders how is it that this person knows who he is.

  “I—how do you know my name?”

  “Jongdae… It’s me, Lu Han.”

  He thinks he can hear the exasperation Lu Han’s voice. He mutters another quick apology because he couldn’t believe he didn’t recognize Lu Han’s voice. Thankfully the lights are out, or else he’d be much more flushed that he already is. He memorized Lu Han’s order, but doesn’t memorize his voice. Wow, Jongdae, wow.

  “You’re living here?” Jongdae asks, he didn’t expect that his new neighbor is actually Lu Han.

  “I moved in for quite some time, Jongdae.” Lu Han is definitely sounding exasperated.

  Jongdae didn’t have a chance to reply because the lights came back on, as suddenly as it went away. The two of them froze instantly, because it would appear that Jongdae underestimated the depth of his cut. With his mouth gaping involuntarily, Lu Han’s eyes follow the trail of blood stains.

  “This looks like someone was killed during the blackout.”

  “…I’m terribly sorry, oh my gods!”

  Lu Han started laughing, and soon Jongdae joins in. He isn’t spared from a scolding from Lu Han though. Even though he’s the one coming up to help Lu Han, ends up its Lu Han bandaging his injuries. His cuts are not especially deep, but he has a few gotten when he gathered all the broken shards into his palms.

  “I’m sorry; I was just worried when I heard that scream so I just came up without realizing I was bleeding.” Jongdae mutters another apology, and this time it’s Lu Han with flushed cheeks in embarrassment.

  Lu Han eyes the blood stains again but ignores them for now since Jongdae is there in his apartment. He goes to get both of them drinks and return with a cup of ice coffee for himself and pear juice for Jongdae (because he said no to coffee or tea). Jongdae isn’t a fan of coffee; he didn’t especially like the taste of tea either.

  Both the drinks are too bitter for him, with no amount of sugars that could sweeten it. He eyes the coffee in Lu Han’s hands, sniffing the aroma and then cringing at the smell. He would not call himself a master when it comes to coffee, but he made his fair share of coffee as a barista to know how to differentiate between good quality and bad ones.

  “That’s pre-mixed coffee isn’t it,” Jongdae comments with distaste.

  “I don’t have a coffee brewer, so I’ll make do with what I have.” Lu Han shrugs in response, though his countenance cringe as well when he takes a sip. “I don’t like it, but I need the coffee power.”

  “Coffee power?” Jongdae laughs, “That’s one way to say it.”

  Lu Han winks at him and the two of them starts laughing once more. With his injured hands, and the way how Lu Han bandaged both his hands, he couldn’t open the canned drink on his own. Thankfully, Lu Han was observant enough to help him with it before passing the drink over to him.

  “The blackout gave me quite a scare,” Lu Han admits with a sheepish smile, “Especially when I was watching The Exorcist literally five minutes ago. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

  “I think you probably scared yourself more,” Jongdae chortles much to Lu Han’s chagrin, “Though I was pretty surprised; blackouts never happened before.”

  “Unlucky me then, to encounter it in my first month of moving in,” Lu Han gives a dry laugh, the corner of his eyes twitching.

  “It’s not that bad, it’s normal for guys to scream like girls sometimes,” Jongdae teases with a chuckle, laughing at Lu Han who seems furious at being called a girl. Before he knows it, Lu Han throws himself onto him and the two of them are caught in a battle of tickling each other.

  Technically, it’s Jongdae squealing and squirming around because he was caught off guard, and that gave Lu Han the chance. They’re both howling with laughter at the end, lying on the floor in exhaustion. Jongdae didn’t realize that he was laughing with an absolute stranger. He only knows his name and his preferred drink in the café down the street, nothing else. For all he knows Lu Han could be a deranged murderer.

  He tells that exactly to Lu Han, and the other is howling with laughter at his imaginations. They exchanged their birthdates for further information, as Lu Han calls it and it turns out he’s a lot younger. Jongdae didn’t expect himself to be younger that the other guy, since Lu Han has such cherubic features.

  “You have to call me hyung,” Lu Han tells him.

  “You’re Chinese aren’t you, hyung?”

  “I’m from Beijing, yes. I don’t think Lu Han’s quite a Korean name.”

  “It could probably work as a Korean name,” Jongdae muses, “Some parents gives really weird name to their kids.”

  “Yeah, like Jongdae?” Lu Han teases.

  “Excuse you,” Jongdae growls, “I like my name very much.” And he grabs the first thing he can grab – a pillow – and smashes it at Lu Han’s pretty face. To which of course Lu Han takes offense to and grabs the same pillow to smash it back to Jongdae’s pretty face. (Lu Han does think that Jongdae is very, very pretty).

  The two of them laughs before getting up because Lu Han suddenly remembers about the blood stains in his apartment. He would like the police after him because it really does look like some potential murder scene. Jongdae stuck his tongue out at his not-so sheepishly but goes to help (he should help).

  “I don’t think the sofa can be saved,” Lu Han sighs, but at least they cleaned the floor. Jongdae at least look a bit more apologetic now, because he really is. He eyes the sofa, wondering if it’s very expensive. It looks like real leather to him, and he heard that those materials are really hard to wash.

  “Never mind, it’s not very noticeable,” Lu Han comments with realization that once the blood dried off it blends into the color of his dark blue sofa. He shrugs to himself and plops himself back onto the sofa. “Thanks for the help, Jongdae.”

  “I am supposed to help; it’s my fault after all.” And very definitely, it’s his blood. Lu Han chuckles and pulls Jongdae to sit beside him, leaning his head onto the younger’s shoulder as exhaustion fully kicks in.

  Jongdae stiffens out of awkwardness because he has zero ideas on what to do and how to deal with this situation but he doesn’t say anything, neither does he pushes of Lu Han. Raising a hand to pet on Lu Han’s head lightly, Jongdae wonders what he is supposed to do now. It would appear to going back to his apartment impossible.

  Lu Han seems truly exhausted, Jongdae thinks as he watches the older boy from his peripheral vision. He’s soon deep asleep and with absolutely nothing to do; Jongdae hums to himself, not daring to sing in case he woke Lu Han up.

  Only sometime after did sleep kick in for Jongdae.

  Lu Han woke up with a terrible stiff neck, but he only has himself to blame. Messaging the ache, he lightens his actions as he got out of the sofa and watches Jongdae sleep. He thought he heard a very familiar tune last night, but it was so gentle that he couldn’t be sure about it.

  Lu Han spend the next five minutes thinking about it with a grumbling stomach until Jongdae wakes up. He didn’t realize that the younger had a lot less sleep than he did, thinking that they fell asleep at the same time. Pulling the reluctant Jongdae out of the sofa, he pushes him into the kitchen with a grin.

  “Hyung, isn’t this your apartment? Why am I the one cooking?” Jongdae asks in protest, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

  “Just because I have a kitchen does not guarantee that I can cook,” Lu Han clears his throat in explanation, not even the least sheepish at his confession. Years ago he had been sheepish, but after burning a few kitchens down he learnt to be thick-faced.

  “You do realize that just because I’m a barista doesn’t guarantee I can cook either,” Jongdae deadpans.

  The two of them blinks at each other, and then with absolute exasperation, they came to the exact same conclusion: to get their breakfast from somewhere else. Lu Han brings Jongdae to a breakfast shop he frequents that has sinfully delicious pancakes, because both of them like pancakes. Who wouldn’t like pancakes?

  Lu Han is thoughtful as he cuts up the pancakes into pieces first before passing the culinary into Jongdae’s hands. Jongdae is slightly touched, but doesn’t show it. Somehow breakfast ends with Jongdae flinging maple syrup onto Lu Han’s face, and Lu Han retaliates with smearing Jongdae’s face with cream.

  Breakfast ends up in a total mess between the two immature grown-ups, dissolving into merry laughter.