1914

            The year was 1914 and Yoo Youngjae was in love.

He was head over heels in love, and it was a feeling he quite liked. He looked forward to seeing her whenever he woke up in the morning, and if he couldn’t, then she was the distant reward that he would give himself. He could breathe her in like the air, drink her in like water. She was the girl of his dreams.

            It was an innocent love. She was someone he had met by chance, and like all the novels, she was someone he had had an eye on for a while. It hadn’t taken much for her to notice him. All it took was courage on his part to walk up to her and order a cup of coffee.

            She worked at a coffee shop that had recently opened up and he had decided to try it out. If he hadn’t been craving something other than his usual tea, he would never have opened the door. Because even though he had wanted to try, he was still held back by inhibitions. He liked things to be consistent, thank you very much. If it hadn’t been for the extra money he earned helping he neighbors clear their yard, he wouldn’t have been able to afford the coffee he suddenly craved. And, this he found out much later, if it had been another day, she wouldn’t have worked there, as she had just dropped in and was trying out the position for that day. And apparently stayed just for him.

            Youngjae got out of bed and carefully wore an outfit he had planned for a while. He took the hat she had given him, more of a prank gift than anything, but it was beautiful like she was, and so he wore it. He draped his cape over himself and walked out.

            She had promised him the other day that she would see him in “the near future,” were her exact words. They had set the time to be this afternoon and he didn’t want to be late. It was a short walk to the café and when he got there, he opened the door to see her usual spot filled by someone else.

            He did a double take. She was supposed to be on duty and when he asked the girl, it was as if she never existed. “I’m sorry sir, but I don’t know who you’re talking about.” When he spoke to the manager and he too expressed his doubt in her existence, Youngjae began to think he was crazy.

            He walked out of the café and sat in the seat right outside the door and pondered. There was no way he imagined her. There was no way he had made up the stolen kisses on the cheek that he had to resort to. He could count on his hands the time they’ve known each other. Three months, and they haven’t even had a proper kiss. He could picture her smile perfectly. No, he wasn’t making her up.

            And so he waited, and waited. The golden rays of afternoon soon morphed into the dusky blue of night and the sun was gone. But he still waited.

1937

            The café had lost its humble town roots and was now a popular hangout spot. The people walked in and out, some giving Youngjae weird looks but not a lot of people making comments. Some people have gone up to him to ask him who he was waiting for, and why he sat there all day and night. And all he could reply was, “Waiting for my love.”

            The answer brought smiles on some faces, scoffs from others but it never brought the actual person. And so he had to wait. He thought he saw her once. Her hair was longer than he remembered and she had switched the long dress for one that was shorter, going along with the style. When he tried to call out her name, he found himself searching for it. Youngjae didn’t even know her name.

            It was searching for a needle in a haystack, but he remembered her voice, her laugh and her face so he would just have to sit and wait. Wait for her to come back to him. “See you in the near future,” she had promised, and he knew she made promises she kept.

1955

            The café has undergone a transformation. It switched owners and now rather than a brown cobblestone building, it was now made of brick. Youngjae walked and ran his hand over the nameplate, the brassy copper still etched there as a memorabilia. The coffee selection has changed as well, adding in exotic sounding beans from places he has never heard of.

            The girls who worked behind the counters had lost the charms and shyness of the olden days. They were ruder, snappier, and wore more revealing dresses, with ribbons tied tightly around their waists. He couldn’t picture his love looking like this, but he suppose times changed, and so should she.

            He was in his usual spot and stood. He hugged his cloak to himself and thought about taking off his hat but he wanted her to recognize her gift. She was walking down the streets with another man. His heart twisted and he thought about all the time he has spent waiting for her, gone to waste now. But when he looked closer, he realized it wasn’t her. The mouth was off, and so was the nose. It made him rest easier. Youngjae sat back down, and continued to hold vigil.

1971

            There was no longer jazz pouring from the coffee shop. There was now a selection of various cakes and no longer the homemade pastries, but the industrial made types. Youngjae perused the menu and realized that he didn’t know half the things on it.

            He asked for paper and a pencil and sat in a table, sipping on his bitter coffee, mouth twisting at the taste of mechanically processed beans, and drew her. He still recalled the smooth curve of her cheek, the slightly difference in size of her eyes, and he drew her to try to breathe some life into her.

            Youngjae then took to asking people if they’ve seen a girl like this. “She’s the love of my life,” he told them. Some shook their heads, thinking he was just a crazy man on the streets, dressed in his quaint clothing. But others humored him. Even though people looked, they never once actually told him a person. It was always “maybe, maybe.” On the back, he had written her last words to him. “See you in the near future.” The near future has come and gone. Where was she?

1993

            He saw someone like her come out of the coffee shop, pushing a baby stroller. Youngjae’s heart caught in his throat at the thought of her moving on with someone else other than him. He stood and held his picture, now creased and the picture blurred to almost beyond recognition. If it were her, he wanted an explanation as to why he had been waiting for so long.

            The baby wailed and she took out a huge contraption and held it to her ear, speaking into it. Had she gone crazy? He studied her from his seat and shook his head. No, the curve of her hip was too sharp, and her arms a bit too long. It wasn’t her. And so it was with a heavy sigh that he resumed his mission.

            “Sir, why are you here?” Youngjae looked up and saw someone who could have been her when she was young. His mouth was suddenly dry. She had intelligent eyes, looking at him with what seemed to be a knowing gleam in them.

            “Waiting for true love.” His answers had changed throughout time, but they still meant the same person in his heart.

            Her lips tugged upwards and she looked so wise for a child her age. “Well, don’t just sit here and wait. Go out and find her.”

            “But she’s coming here. I know it.”

            At his insistence, the girl lifted a shoulder and shrugged, shattering all similarity with the girl whose image Youngjae had carried in his mind for so long.

2014

            The café was going to be torn down; he read it in the announcement that was posted earlier that morning. Youngjae felt a beat of panic. How could she come back to him if there was no longer a place for her to go back to? He stood from his chair and looked around, trying to think. How would he meet her? How could they relive their memories if the place of their origins was gone?

            He nervously curled his hand around the back of the chair he had occupied for the past century. “See you in the near future!” His head shot up and saw the back of a girl’s head as she left the café and walked in the direction opposite him.

            His heart beat erratically and he knew he had to move. Youngjae tightened the cloak around him and began to walk, to step away from the place where he had guarded. He had to find her, to chase her down, no more sitting around. His steps quickened, the distance between them lessened and his breathing came out faster. He reached out an arm and she was so close, so close to touch.

            The year is 2014, and Youngjae was no longer waiting.

not really sure what the point of this story was... it was just something that I've been wanting to write for a while, but never thought of a proper plot for? I guess it's just supposed to be artsy. Make of it what you will, and listen to "Coffee Shop" if you want to reread it again. B.A.P vocals are always a nice touch

requests will be open next week!