Jonghyun awoke the following morning, feeling significantly more alert and well-rested. The nasty, unfinished budget was still rudely pushing its way to the top of his mental list of things to do, but, he reasoned, he could finish it later in the evening. After all, it was Saturday and he already had started on his homework, the previous night, after returning home from work. He chuckled to himself as he got out of bed- it was funny how much more optimistic a person could be after a good-night's sleep.

It was with an ever-increasing feeling of bubbly happiness that Jonghyun dressed, brushed his teeth and prepared some coffee for breakfast. He was fortunate enough that there had been a few left-overs at the café, from the previous night, that the employees had been allowed to take home, and it was with relish that he peeled the paper off of the bottom of a lemon poppy-seed muffin. Admittedly, it was a little dry and crumbly, but the taste and texture was paradise for Jonghyun, who had had more than his fair share of nearly-expired produce and cheap ready-meals.

The rest of his morning went by smoothly, as he prepared to work his second job, with the buoyancy and spring in his step of a mustached barber from a 1940's musical. The kettle had even boiled his coffee water a little more quickly than usual, that morning.

Jonghyun's weekend job took place at a seniors' residence. Some of his responsibilities included helping with kitchen clean-up, leading low-impact stretching exercise sessions, training new volunteers and of course, just socializing with the residents and bringing some cheer into their lives. Originally, Jonghyun had signed on for the job because working with the elderly was definitely a helpful claim for medical students to make on their resumés. But right from his very first day of work, he had quickly grown to love the job, and the elderly residents that he had the privilege to work with. Sometimes he felt that it was they who, with their stories and ever-patient ears, were brightening his life, rather than the other way around.

With a much lighter load than that which he dragged to school each weekday, Jonghyun walked out of his apartment with only a light jacket and his wallet. The residents' home was near where he lived, (although it was far enough to be out of reach of the crime plaguing Jonghyun's area), and he usually felt comfortable enough to get there on foot.

It was a cool morning, but with the Sun still out and warmly inhabiting the crevices of the Earth, Jonghyun felt wonderful to be alive.

-----

"Jonghyun?" A kind voice filled Jonghyun's ears.

"Mrs. Jung!" The young man looked up, a smile instantly spreading across his face. "How are you?"

The elderly woman smiled warmly, hugging Jonghyun with surprising strength, considering her small, thin and wrinkled body.

"I'm fine, dear. You know, I actually had a very nice week. There was a nice young gentleman who came in to do some gardening with us the other day and the weather was lovely. How have you been, dear?"

"I've had a lot of homework," Jonghyun admitted. "And work's been pretty busy, but I'm getting by," he smiled.

"That mean old boss of yours over at the café isn't giving you a hard time, is he?" Mrs. Jung frowned at the thought of Jonghyun's boss, of whom she hadn't a very high opinion, as she took the arm that the young man offered her.

"Not more than usual," Jonghyun laughed.

Over the duration of time that Jonghyun had spent working at the seniors' home, he had built a special relationship with each one. There was Mr. Kwon, who was one of the most devoted "athletes" that Jonghyun had, attending each and every one of the stretch classes. He had even roped in other residents to come and join and every week, he would proudly report to Jonghyun about how he had practiced all of the exercises by himself, throughout the week, in his room.

 Mrs. Han was a stereotypical "Italian grandmother", only she was Korean. Warm and friendly to all, she also always had a firm (and sometimes quite loud) opinion on anything from a major news story that she'd seen on the television to what the residence's kitchen was serving up for dinner. She could also speak five different languages, fluently.

Miss Lee was probably one of the smallest residents, and also the most fashionable. When she was younger, she had been a part of a national ballet troupe, and even today, her inkling toward the sparkle of the stage was apparent in the new, polished manicures that she had every week.

A resident who particularly intrigued Jonghyun was quiet Mr. Takahashi. He was originally from Japan, as his surname suggested, and had moved to Korea with his niece, who had been his caretaker until he became a resident. He had been a soldier during the Second World War and sometimes seemed to lose himself in his war-time memories. 

There had been one week when Jonghyun had left the school textbook that he had brought in to study over his lunchtime break, behind by accident. He had panicked over the following seven days, having completely forgotten where he had left it and was extremely discouraged by the fact that he might have to spend (an awful lot of) money on a new one. He had been amazed, when the following Saturday, Mr. Takahashi had returned the book to him. How it was that the elderly man had known that the book belonged to Jonghyun was beyond him- he knew for a fact that there were other medical students who volunteered throughout the week that would have the same text book. He hadn't written his name inside the book, nor had he even read it inside the residents' home. Clearly, the seemingly frail old man was still as astute as he had been during his military days.

Mrs. Jung, however, had come to be much like a grandmother to Jonghyun. He had never really known his own grandparents- his mother's parents had passed away before he was born, and his paternal grandparents had long since moved to the United States. Jonghyun had only met them twice- once when he was three years old and a second time when he had turned twelve. There was simply something about the ease with which he could talk to her and the matriarch-like aura that she carried that made her a grandparent-type figure to Jonghyun. 

"Jonghyun, dear, I'd like you to meet my grandson. He came by today to visit me," she smiled, as the two of them walked to the main sitting area- a room full of sunshine and various snacks, where visitors were usually received.

"I'd love to meet him, Mrs. Jung," Jonghyun, answered, imagining the boy to be no more than twelve or thirteen, having been dropped off to visit his gramdma, by his parents.

How blatantly stunned he was, indeed, when Mrs. Jung led him to a little table where she said that her grandson was waiting.

Seated in a plush chair, with a glass of water in front of him, was the highly attractive man that Jonghyun had served at the café, only the previous evening.

Note: 

Oh boy! It's pretty pathetic, but I'm actually excited about and feeling the suspense of my own "cliffhanger" (if this is even a cliffhanger heheh ^_^')     *cough*getalife*cough* ^^'

Just to clarify, Mrs. Jung is Minho's grandmother on his mum's side, hence the different last name. I though that it would be a little too obvious if she was Mrs. Choi.  :) Technically, in Hong Kong and Japan, at least, she could be Minho's father's mother, as married women usually don't change their last name to their husband's, but I thought that it would be more universal if I went by Western practices. ^_^

I just want to say that I really appreciate all of the comments, subscriptions and reads that I've received thusfar, not only for this piece, but all of my other stories, as well. It's a beautiful thing to see a few phrases that you thought of in the shower or on the couch, then scribbled (messily) onto a sheet of looseleaf, actually being read and appreciated by readers from all over the world. :)

As I'm really in the zone, now, I think that it would be perfectly reasonable to expect another couple of chapters to be posted today ^_^

Thanks for reading

x Angela