Dear Kai,

This letter may both be a punishment and a reward. But to who, exactly, that is what I’m unsure of. I am writing in the midst of a drunken night, and heaven knows how miserable I am now. This, I’m sure is caused by you. But know that I am okay; as okay it can possible be. I am writing this letter in a café. Not ours. Sitting by the window. Not yours. Sipping a cup of coffee. Not made by me. Everything has been, and may will be, ‘not’ without you…

* * *

I cleared the tables at the café aimlessly that night. Glancing at the clock on the wall from time to time. Hoping that with each gaze it’ll urge the hands to move a little bit faster. My dads had set me up on a date with one of their client’s son. They work for a small law firm here in Seoul, so I’m hoping that what ever this boys parent had done, my parents are one hundred per cent sure they’re innocent. I’m not really that worried though, from all the bore in my life, I had decided that I like boys with a little kick. I was home-schooled, so this occasion is somewhat of a blue moon. Even though I wasn’t going to make this guy my boyfriend, I still wanted him to think I was cute. So I annoyed my parents each night leading to the big one, to tell me, honestly, which angles my dimples looked cuter in.

The deal was, that he would come by and pick me up at seven when my shift ends, and we’d grab dinner. He said he’d be wearing blue, and as an artist this description was very vague. It pissed me off. I could name a hundred of shades of blue. But at seven on the dot just as I stacked the last chair on the table, the bell chimed to signal the arrival of a boy wearing just the right shade. Tall. Dark. Perfectly slicked hair. I stride over to him, and smiled just at the right angle. But when he returned the smile, mine broke to an awe. He didn’t have cute dimples to compliment them like me, but his eyes hooked you in just as well. A dark abyss, that is undecided on wether it wants to look romantic or dangerous. “Hello” the boy said. Definitely dangerous. I returned the greeting with a couple of blinks, in an attempt to break the trance he put on me.

“I’ll just go get my bag,” I stammered “It’s out the back. I also have a dress to change into, just in case you’re worried that you’re a bit overdressed. Which you don’t, by the way, it’s just perfect. Okay.” Lots of words in a short amount of time and few nervous laughter. I turn on my heel and quickly headed to the back to stop the embarrassing act, and also get my stuff. I cursed myself a few times as I got changed into my favourite white dress.  His parent’s crime most definitely was making a boy that could hypnotize and paralyse seventeen-year-old girls.

When I got back he was standing by the cake display, hands in each pocket of his trousers. His features deserved to be sculpted by the masters, and worshiped like the Gods. My dads are getting a pat on the back when I get home tonight. I walk over to him and clear my throat. He turned. His eyes, dangerous turned romantic, scanned me. His lips upturned to a smile.  And bells chimed. Is this a sign? I imagined the little white chapel on a hill filled with people. The boy in the midnight blue by the alter, waiting for the girl in white.

“You look beautiful”

 But his lips never broke the smile. The voice came from the boy behind. I averted my gaze from the god-like boy to the one walking right towards me. “Hey” His smile was annoyingly happy “I’m Chanyeol.” Hair messy “Sorry, I’m a bit late.” Wearing the wrong shade of blue.

* * *

That night I served you the cake you wanted and I followed the boy wearing his god forsaken indigo shirt, which I classified more as a purple than a blue. But my thoughts were filled with you and your midnight blue suit. Now that I think of it, our story was every shade of blue. Beacuase you... were the bluest or blues. Serene like the blue sky. Dark, like the mysterious ocean.