Kris usually started his part-time shift from five in the afternoon until when the bar closed at twelve in the morning (or really whenever they finished cleaning up and throwing the last customers out on the streets).

 

 

The pay wasn’t that great, but that was because his job was really simple. He was a barista from five p.m. to six-thirty p.m., and from then on until the end of his shift, he would put away the espressos and creamers and start chilling and salting glasses.

 

 

He wasn’t exactly Seoul’s ball of smiling sunshine that you could talk to and pour your sorrows to, but he was a good guy. He had a good heart that was as strong as the drinks he concocted and he was actually nice – his frowny face just usually said otherwise. He was awkward in relationships and usually ended them because he had no clue had to continue them or what to do. So he usually stole sips from the vodka to wash away whatever heartbreak he had in his heart as he continued to mix drinks and listen to the guys perform.

 

 

And every now and then he and Park Chanyeol would act as bouncer (because the bar couldn’t really afford to pay for an extra hand) when some guy would start being stupid. Kris would drag him out the door, and if he still persisted on being stupid, Chanyeol would knock him out with a guitar blow to the back of the head.

 

 

Kim Jaemi usually started, or rather, came to her part-time shift to meet up with her partner, Do Kyungsoo, at around seven in the evening. She would be in the back room, fixing her hair and clothes, and then proceed to the sound-proof music room with Kyungsoo to practice their parts along with their guitarist, Chanyeol.

 

 

Then by the time they came out with microphones and guitar in hand, people had already crowded in the small café bar, with glasses of wine and shots of vodka in their hands.

 

 

Kyungsoo would introduce themselves as if they never sang there every Thursday and Saturday night, and the three-man band would all bow before they started singing old songs, new songs, and songs they composed.

 

 

Kris wasn’t really, as you could say, close with the three, especially with Jaemi, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy their company. In fact, he loved working on Thursdays and Saturdays because he got to listen to their voices.

 

 

If he could classify their voices as the liquids he worked with, he would write down on a sheet of paper that “Do Kyungsoo is like Kahlua, Park Chanyeol is like Jack Daniels, and Kim Jaemi is like Schnapps.”

 

 

Do Kyungsoo had a deep, y voice that made all the girls in the front row sigh dreamily, especially when he smiled at them and winked.

 

 

Park Chanyeol had a rumbling voice that sounded like thunder, and everyone would do a double take because it didn’t match his cute face and childish grins.

 

 

And Kim Jaemi had a sweet, sugary voice just like the Schnapps he was pouring into a cocktail right now and as sweet as her own face, and he loved to hear it because it was so sweet and nice. He usually liked it whenever she sang solos, because her voice would swirl around the room and everyone would be quiet, because they just wanted to hear Kim Jaemi singing.

 

 

He would stand by the bar, wiping the glasses and smiling to himself, and just because Jaemi’s solos would always be a surprise, it could range from The Beatles to 2NE1.

 

 

Tonight, the pretty-faced girl was singing a song that Kyungsoo had composed – it was called What is Love, or something like that, and it was honestly an adorable song that could describe anyone’s feelings when they were slowly falling in love.

 

 

Kris Wu didn’t love Kim Jaemi, no, not at all. He only loved her performances and her face, but that was about it.

 

 

Kris Wu was a very conservative person, and he believed that beauty was skin deep (which was a lie, considering how he spent at least thirty minutes every day slapping skin care onto his face) and so he came to the conclusion that he loved Kim Jaemi’s voice and face, but that was just about it.

 

 

Besides, he didn’t even know her that well.

 

 

Until one late Valentine’s eve, when the bar had actually closed at nine forty-five p.m.

 

 

It was a Wednesday night, which meant there was no performance at all, and Jaemi had actually come to the bar around six in the evening to actually drown herself in sapphire martinis and on the beaches which made him snicker a little bit.

 

 

Kim Jaemi was actually quite a pleasant girl, Kris found out, as he made her what seemed to be her third cosmopolitan. “What’s your favorite drink?” she had asked him when he placed the reddish-pink cocktail on the counter.

 

 

He had replied with, “Americano with no cream or sugar,” and Jaemi had laughed and told him that he was too uptight, but he merely shrugged because at least he knew he couldn’t handle his liquor.

 

 

Kris didn’t like drinking because he usually said things he shouldn’t or did things he wasn’t supposed to, for example, talking about stupid things he did in high school or passing out right on the dance floor.

 

 

Yet Kris didn’t have a single drop of alcohol when he and Jaemi talked the night away, talking about their childhoods and dreams and the fact that they were working in the bar to pay off some of their college tuitions.

 

 

It was exactly nine forty-five when Kris had to literally drag her out of the bar because he already closed down shop and didn’t want to stay anymore because there were no more customers and their employer didn’t exactly pay overtime.

 

 

She was whacked-out drunk, giggling and swaying to the point he knew he couldn’t leave her alone, so she was thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and managed to pry out her address so he could take her home.

 

 

Jaemi had laughed and coughed as he walked around, not caring about the weird looks strangers were giving him or the tickly sensation that was spreading on his skin when she was tracing drunken stars on his back.

 

 

“I like you, Kris,” she slurred, nuzzling her face into his shirt. “You’re cool.”

 

 

Kris snickered and patted her calves, “I think you’re cool too, Jaemi.”

 

 

“Well, I lied.” She laughed really loudly and obnoxiously, to which Kris slapped her behind, and she whined like a bratty kid.

 

 

“We’re here,” Kris sighed, letting her down and fishing around her purse to look for her keys because she was too drunk for her own good to actually locate it. “I hope you can make it inside. Goodnight, see you tomorrow.”

 

 

Jaemi had grinned and nodded sleepily before literally crashing back into Kris before he could turn around to leave.

 

 

And he literally didn’t know what to think when she pulled him down by the lapels and kissed him – all his mind was processing was the taste of the last on a beach she had and that her perfume smelled like flowers.

 

 

Somewhere in between pauses, she had whispered “Stay the night?” but Kris’ arms had already hoisted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

 

 

Kris just told himself that it was because of his low-tolerance for the alcohol that he tasted in (but maybe it was because he had low-tolerance for Jaemi?) as she pulled his hair back and kissed him roughly.

 

 

He told himself it would just be a one-night stand and leave it at that when he left in the morning, but he shocked himself when he had surprised her when he came back about an hour and a half later with something behind his back.

 

 

“Oh,” Jaemi muttered half-sleepily and half-wincing from the unbelievable hangover that was pounding her brains. “Kris?”

 

 

He made some sort of mumbling sound in the back of his throat. “Um, about last night, uh…um…” he cleared his throat and held out a bouquet of roses as awkward as he was Kris Wu. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

 

 

Jaemi cracked a grin and went on her tippy toes to kiss him on the lips, and she smiled when she felt him doing so too. “Thank you, Kris,” she whispers before smelling the flowers’ pretty scent. “Hey, do you want to come in for breakfast?”

 

 

He shook his head, but thanked her. “I actually need to be in class right now, so…I’ll see you later at the bar?”

 

 

She nodded. “Sure thing, Kris. Take care!”

 

 

“Thanks, you too!” he called out before running down the hall and down the stairs to catch the bus going towards the university.

 

 

Kris’ mind was coming to the conclusion that he was slowly beginning to love Kim Jaemi, but he pushes it to the back of his head because he knows he has to focus on catching that damned bus and also to stop by the confectionery chocolate shop to buy her a box of sweets later.

 

 

Kris Wu had always been the most awkward individual when it came to relationships, but there was always room for improvement, as he learned when Jaemi came by to the bar with her own gift for him in hand.