It was moments like these when Junmyeon remembered why he didn’t smile as much nowadays.

The young man before him slowly inhaled in what seemed to be an attempt to hold back whatever anger he was building up inside.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Junmyeon blinked a couple more times, brows slightly raised at the sudden apology.

After letting out a soft sigh, Junmyeon scratched the back of his head.

The thing about ending relationships or friendships or any type of bonding with another person is that they always want to find out who’s to blame, or whose “responsibility” it was.

And Junmyeon was really confused about it, really. Why couldn’t things just be and not have a reason? Why must someone be at fault?

But then again, he’d rather deal with people who blamed themselves than point the finger at him, escalating the scenario even further than it needs to.

Another huff of frustration left the shorter man’s lips, and Junmyeon snapped his head back to attention.

“You’re completely hopeless, you know that?”

As if he hadn’t heard that one before.

Junmyeon smiled with expressionless eyes.

“See you around, Kyungsoo.”

Junmyeon watched as the man before him shook his head and turn away. He opened his mouth to say something, but then held back.

Why prolong the inevitable?

With a short tilt of head and a tapping of his foot, Junmyeon started to walk the opposite direction to who knows where, hands stuffed in his pockets. He wondered, for the briefest moment, when it all changed—there was always a single moment in his relationships that he couldn’t identify. It was always good and happy, but then…and that was it really.

But then.

And life goes on.

As he padded along the streets of the night scene, bright neon lights from the shifty and shady shops rippled in the reflections of the wet floor, still fresh from the rainpour.

Junmyeon paused mid-step, looking into a puddle he just stepped on. His squiggly, deformed face that reflected off of the water still seemed admirable to him, and yes, maybe it was because the lights and shadows that curved into the sharp angles of his face created a favorable look, but how could anyone resist such a nice-looking face?

And while Junmyeon could usually spend minutes upon hours upon days thinking and talking about his face, for once, something else had caught his eye.

An antique store sat next to the sputtering sign that read “Jinki’s Fried Chicken.” And now that he saw it, he wondered how he had missed it all the other times he walked down this lonely road. Junmyeon looked up to the simple yet regal-looking storefront. Trinkets spread across the front window here and there, and paint that used to decorate the clear glass now chipped off.

Somewhere along the line of admiring the view, Junmyeon found himself standing right in front of the store, inches away from the piece that grabbed his attention in the first place.

A mirror, in all of its glory, was placed in the far right corner, despite the beautiful adornments and its size. He looked at the finer details of the mirror: the white frame, the flowers that were carved onto it, the clarity of the reflection despite the fact that every object surrounding it was covered in dust.

Finally, his eyes stopped dead center, and he stared at himself for a few moments. He lulled his head side to side, watching his reflection as the noises and the lights of the night life slowly faded into nothingness until all Junmyeon saw was himself.

As the night fog began to cover the window, Junmyeon raised an arm to wipe it away; it was interrupting with his admiration time, but when he looked up again there was an unfamiliar face looking back at him, surprised as well.
Junmyeon swiftly turned around—to see nothing, no one, only the same lonely people wandering the streets at night. For a moment, Junmyeon didn’t dare to turn back at first, but slowly twisted his head back.
Lo and behold, the man was still there. Junmyeon tilted his head to the left, the right, and finally lifted a hand to rub the side of his chin, and the man before him duplicated his actions.

With knitted brows, Junmyeon took a glance at the man’s features: the slightly curved eyebrow, the warm, welcoming eyes that beckoned him, the defined jaw, and finally, the killer smile that seemed to lure him in.
Junmyeon let out a nervous chuckle, quickly looking away while he exhaled a short breath. He inhaled deeply, and closed his eyes. He could still see the man in the mirror looking at him in the same cheeky matter as before, and Junmyeon scrunched his nose playfully before finally opening his eyes once more. The man in the mirror was indeed, staring back at him, now with a curious, questioning glance. He had cocked an eyebrow up as if to say, “What’s next?” and Jumyeon’s smile turned mischievous before he cleared his throat.

“Hello there.” Junmyeon said in the most casual voice he could muster, as if this was completely normal. The man in the mirror copied his movements, nodding once and bowing his head down. When he looked up, his smile was still perfectly in place.

“Why hello.”

“My name is Kim Junmyeon.” Junmyeon awkwardly blurted out, unsure of what else to say.

The man’s smile grew bigger, to Junmyeon’s surprise, and the side of his eyes crinkled just a tiny bit. Junmyeon couldn’t look away from then on.

“You already know who I am.”

Junmyeon blinked at this. He blinked a couple times more.

And it was true; the name was just at the tip of the tongue. He could almost feel it—the way his lips were supposed to open and protrude, the way the syllables were to slip out like an unconscious hum.

And ah, there it was. He almost wanted to scold himself for doubting himself. Junmyeon laughed nervously, feeling dumb and silly, and—

“Well?” The man asked, chuckling as well.

“I do,” Junmyeon started, nodding confidently.

He mulled it over in his mind for a moment, twisting and turning the three simple syllables in his mind, before finally, the right name came to mind.

“Kim Minseok.”

Minseok nodded, amused.

“That’s right.” Minseok started, “So, then. How much time do we have?”

“All the time in the world.” Junmyeon immediately responded, biting his lower lip.

But this time, Minseok’s smile never faltered.