“I need a break,” Kai groans, sitting down, his back pressed against the wall, the cold from the mirrors behind him prickling through his damp shirt.

            Yixing tosses him a water bottle before joining him, sweat running down his neck.

            “Good job with that routine. You picked it up fast,” Yixing says, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall.

            Kai smiles as he takes a drink of water. “Thanks.”

            The two sit in companionable silence for a while, Yixing keeping his eyes closed while Kai stares around the room, drinking in the small details he has memorized over the past couple of years, like the small dent in the wall opposite the wall of mirrors from that one time Kai and Yixing had attempted to incorporate acrobatics into one of their routines, and Yixing had ended up hitting the wall.

            There’s a door leading into the small kitchen to Kai’s left, and another door leading into Yixing’s bedroom to the right. A small couch takes up the space under the windows directly opposite from the wall of mirrors. Kai has sat there multiple times, looking out from the third-story window at the street below, or watching movies until five in the morning on the flat screen television Yixing has on a roll-around coffee table. The place is as familiar to Kai as his own apartment.

            “Do you want lunch?” Yixing asks, keeping his eyes closed, breaking the easy silence.

            Kai’s stomach rumbles before he can answer, and they both laugh.

            “I’ll take that as a yes,” Yixing says, getting up with a moan and stretching. “And after that, I’m going to sleep for the next few days.”

            “I’ll join you,” Kai mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. Every muscle in his body aches, but all of the pain and all of the work is always worth it.

            Dancing is like breathing to Kai.

            There’s something about it that makes Kai feel like he’s at the top of a large drop on a rollercoaster ride, just waiting to plunge down through the air, all of the adrenaline and anticipation coursing through his veins like he’s on a sugar high. But it’s so much better than a sugar high. It’s chaos and order at the same time, along with everything in between.

            It’s why he left Korea in the first place.

            Yixing interrupts Kai’s thoughts by calling to him from the kitchen, where he disappeared to a few minutes ago.

            “Get in here lazy! I’m not cooking by myself!”

Sehun can’t stop the twisting in his stomach no matter how many times he tells himself to relax.

            It’s not like the feeling he gets whenever Kang-Dae is around.

            It’s different, not edged with fear, but with anticipation.

            “Okay, you’re just going to go in there and ask for a green tea frappuccino, that’s it. And then you’re going home,” he tells himself.

            He’s not even sure if that’s truly why he’s walked all the way down to the Starbucks near his campus in the middle of a Saturday, but Sehun’s not going to admit to any other reason.

            So he takes a deep breath, glances around at the busy street once more, and then pushes the door open.

            Inside, warm lights make everything seem softer, more blurred around the edges. It’s different from the blinding sunlight outside. It didn’t snow yesterday, like Kai had said it would, but that didn’t keep it from being numbingly cold today. The warmth of the Starbucks is a welcome retreat for a lot of people, some enjoying their favorite mocha or latte, and others studying or socializing with friends.

            Sehun hovers near the door for a few seconds, trying to find an empty seat, and trying not to look over at the ordering counter. His camera bounces in between his ribcage, comforting and familiar. Finally, he is able to slide into a chair near the window, close enough to the counter to hear the hisses of the coffee machine and the muffled voices of the staff.

            Sehun studies the top of the table for a few seconds, fiddling with his camera, and then he glances up, quickly, hopefully discreetly, at the front of the shop. There’s a dark-skinned girl there with a long braid that is thrown over her shoulder, earrings glittering from the multiple piercings that line her ears. And another boy, his black hair a shock to his pale skin, the outline of a tattoo barely visible over the collar of his shirt. Both of them are moving around, taking orders, making coffee, chatting with each other. But they’re the only ones there.

            Sehun cranes his neck, trying to look around the bulky machinery and the glass pastry case, but he can’t see any other staff members. No dark-haired, dark-eyed boy with a green tea frappuccino in his hands and a grin on his lips.

            Sehun sits back, feeling something close to disappointment settling in his stomach, heavy and bitter, like black coffee. Sehun hates black coffee. It’s too sharp on his tongue, leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

            “Well, you might as well order and head home,” his conscience tells him. “A green tea frappuccino is what you came here for, right?”

            Sehun sighs and gets up, his chair scraping over the tiled floor. He has to squeeze past a baby stroller, and then past a group of college students with textbooks strewn all over their table, coffee cups sitting empty and highlighters clenched between teeth, before he makes it to the front.

            And suddenly, a familiar face is in front of him, and Sehun jumps in surprise.

            “Come back for your free drink?” Kris asks, smiling at Sehun. “You’re the one my employee dumped coffee on, right?”

            Sehun nods, his heart suddenly beating fast. The disappointment is starting to fade, replaced by a sweeter emotion that makes Sehun feel light-headed.

            Sehun manages to choke out his order before Kris is whipping it up, his hands flitting between the knobs of the machines and the stacks of plastic cups. And then a green tea frappuccino is being slid across the counter, and Kris is asking if he needs anything else, probably hoping Sehun isn’t back to complain.

            Sehun begins to shake his head and thank Kris for the coffee when he pauses. There’s an idea forming in the back of his head, but he’s not sure if he’ll be able to ask Kris the question sitting on his tongue.

            He wipes his hands on his pants, his pulse racing, and glances outside to avoid eye contact with the tall manager.

            And then he takes another deep breath, and turns to Kris.

Kai cracks another egg over the pan on the stove, listening to Yi