There was a pair of legs sticking out among extra filing cabinets and discarded desks on the rooftop that afternoon.

                Any normal person would have freaked out and ran over to make sure that the owner of the legs was alright but I knew better.  I only let out an exasperated sigh and walked over.

                “Hey!  Jang Doyoon!” I yelled, banging my hand on one of the metal bookshelves. 

                Doyoon opened his eyes slowly and fixed his gaze on me.  When he recognized who it was, he let out a dissatisfied groan and emerged from his sanctuary.

                “You’ve got to stop passing out in random places like this.  What if it wasn’t me who came to find you?”

                “But it’s always you,” he replied, adjusting his bangs and brushing off his uniform.

                My frowned deepened.  “I’m just saying—”

                “Alright, I get it,” he said, patting my head while walking past.  “Good work today,” he added over his shoulder before disappearing down the stairs. 

                Doyoon and I were childhood friends, but lately I felt more like his alarm clock.  He’d always find some excuse to sleep somewhere during the day and I’d have to be the one to collect him.  It was a mystery to me what he always did so late to mess up his sleeping schedule so badly, but when I asked his friends, they only gave me shrugs and vague replies.

                I found my answer by coincidence one night walking around with my little sister.  She had dropped her ice cream bar on the street and stared at it as if she was regretting every life decision until that moment.  She finally broke from her moment of depression and spotted something farther down the road. 

                “Isn’t that Doyoon?” she asked, pointing to a boy leaving a dance studio. 

                “He’s taking dance lessons?” I wondered aloud.  He started to walk away and I grabbed my sister’s hand.  “Let’s follow him.”

                My sister still seemed hesitant to leave her doomed ice cream that was already starting to bleed out on the concrete.  I rolled my eyes.  “I’ll buy you another one on the way.  Come on.”

                It turned out that I didn’t need to stop along the way to get my sister her treat.  Doyoon’s destination was a convenience store where he was already wearing that silly apron uniform and greeting customers.  He was obviously tired, always rubbing the sleep away from his eyes or yawning, but he always mustered enough energy to smile at people in the checkout line.

                I bit my lip and felt emotions rise up in me as I witnessed this new side to Doyoon.  Finally, when I had seen enough, I turned to my sister, who sat bored a few feet away.

                “Let’s go home.”

                “What?  But, sis, my ice cream—”

                “He doesn’t need me disturbing him again,” I told her, and we left the glowing lights of the store behind. 

                During lunch the next day, I spotted Doyoon leaning against the wall of the empty gym, his head bent forward.  I climbed up the bleachers towards him.  My mind instinctively started thinking of creative ways to wake him up this time, but I stopped myself because I understood now.  Doyoon, who was already tired from dancing, was even more exhausted from part-timing to pay for his lessons.  Yet he always told me “Good work today” after I came to find him at school.

                Deciding to skip the whole routine, I sat beside him.

                “I’d like to see you dance someday,” I murmured, mostly to myself.

                To my surprise, Doyoon muttered my name and put his head on my shoulder.

                “Be quiet,” he muttered.

                I smiled.  Maybe it was okay to let him rest like this for a just little longer.