The young man was sitting on a stool, staring vacantly at a spot in the air, lost in his thoughts. He glowed a little, like how a Sunday afternoon  seems to rain with golden sunshine. Lee Jinki  gave out the sense of warmth everytime I looked upon him.

I tried not to stare.

I tried to limit the number of glances I threw his way.

I was busy in the store, and he waited patiently. Polite customers, tired from their early mornings or late nights, made small chatter and fared me well with automatic thank yous after they were served. 'Good morning', 'How are you?', 'I'm good, and you?', 'I'm good too'; these faded as the morning made its crawl towards noon.

Jinki played with an empty paper cup (another waitress had given him a drink as he waited), still staring out into nothing. I hung back a little, uncertain about how to approach him. His side profile was familiar, and untouchable.

Like many times before, he turned my way and caught my uncertainty.

"You have to stop. I cannot keep meeting you like this," he said.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked instead, ignoring his words. They were said before, everytime he had waited with his cup of coffee. Our conversations were now as routine as the greetings with the other customers, only he wasn't quite like them.

Jinki hummed a little as he deliberated on his answer. They changed each day.

"Music," he decided. "And monkeys," he added after a small pause. But he waved his answer away and looked at me very seriously. His brown eyes were steely with determination.

"We cannot keep doing this," he said again.

"I know."

"Then why, every time?"

"I don't know - you have that answer."

He made an aggrieved sigh and looked behind my shoulder, as if there was a stage hand with large cue cards, telling us what to do next. But there was no one there, and I was as much at a loss as he.

"I just find myself here. I go to sleep, and here I am." Eye contact, once more and possibly our last. "You call out to me."

And, as per the routine, he fades away and I am left with an empty stool. Outside, it seemed to be raining golden sunshine.

"I can't help it."