Sehun slammed his glass down and waved his hand in the air, signaling for his best friend, Chanyeol, to come around with another shot. 

   "Still not done yet, man?" He scoffed while messily pouring a shot of UV.

   "'Course not! On a night like this? Please." Sehun grunted as he accepted the shot-glass Chanyeol had slid over to him. 

   "But what about Luhan?"

   "I'm sure he's busy."

   Sehun swiveled around in his bar stool. He threw his head back as the vodka sent liquid fire down his throat. Good stuff, he thought. Sehun suddenly felt weird, as if someone was watching him. He turned again to look at Chanyeol, who was still lingering. He looked awe-stricken as he scanned the crowd behind Sehun. He never even took his hand off the bottle. Just before Sehun could say something, Baekhyun, who was a mutual friend between the two, bounded over. He laughed as he threw his arm over Chanyeol's shoulders, shocking the doe-eyed bartender out of his trance. 

   "Can you believe it?!" He squealed. "A full house!"

   "We're beyond full, now! It's incredible!" Chanyeol mused. 

   

   Chanyeol and Baekhyun's bar, Heart & Seoul, located in the center of New York City's K-Town, does exceptionally well. The dark, roomy vibe makes the diverse guests feel right at home, and the many events held there attract newcomers frequently. However, they seldom have a full house. It's true that Heart & Seoul recieves a lot of business, but the extra space in the unconventionally large bar is a constant reminder that there could always be more.

   After Baekhyun proposed the idea of holding an open-mic night, business got even better. He did this proposal not only with his co-owner-slash-bartender, but with his loyal customers: On the stage where a live band plays (or a sporadic poetry night is held), Baekhyun simply asked, "How about an open-mic?" and the guests repsonded with frevor.

   So, since then they've had a rise--credit to those social junkies who love geo-tagging, and those zealous friends who drag their companions everywhere. After some time, a particular person frequented that stage. He went up every open-mic night with a different sound, leaving the crowd roaring. Whether he was upbeat or somber, everyone needed a piece of him. Consequently, on every open-mic night (of which Chanyeol strategically made more often), Heart & Seoul was packed with bargoers yearning for another taste.   

     

    The three men all directed their attention to the stage, where that same man was singing a jazzy tune. Sehun felt his palms get sweaty and he rubbed them feverishly on his slacks. The man on stage--whoever he was--made direct eye contact with Sehun. It felt like lasers were being shot through him.

   "It's gotta be him," he said. "It has to be."

 

    As the song ended, and the powerful vocalist glided off the stage, Sehun sighed. He'd wanted to talk to the singer, but he could be seen already heading for the door. 

   "What's that guy's name?" He asked no one in particular. 

   "Him? I still don't know." Chanyeol answered. 

   "After all this time?"

   "Well, it's only been a few months--"

   "Whatever."

   "--and he never puts his name down on the number sheet. He just goes up after everyone else is done."

   "We've gotten used to it," Baekhyun added. 

   Ridiculous, Sehun thought. He watched the exit for some time, hoping that maybe the mysterious singer would come back in. When it was obvious that he wouldn't, Sehun turned back towards the bar stand. He wished he'd went to catch up to him. But it's okay, he figured as he poured himself a shot, this wont be the last time I see him. 

 

 

**One month later**

 

   When Sehun awoke, he felt bitter. He looked at the clock on his night-stand. It was a quarter to ten and he was beyond late. He groaned as he got out of bed. He'd barely moved, but his hangover caused an unrelenting ringing. I bet Tanisha asked me to pick up her shift on purpose. He rubbed his head, already regretting his act of kindness. He wouldn't ever want to work on a Sunday, but his co-worker Tanisha has covered for him so much, he also wouldn't ever want to decline giving her a hand. 

   He opened up his curtains to let some light in. He had a nice view from his apartament, if anyone could call it that--there wasn't much to see. Sehun lived in a rough part of Brooklyn and although he could see a lot from his bedroom window, he didn't exactly want to see it. 

     Sehun rushed to catch the B train at Newkirk Plaza. But of course, his haste turned out to be in vain: as it usually happened when he was late, Sehun bound down the stairs just to see the doors close in his face. "Argh! !" He spat out, earning stares. He checked his phone for the time - 11:00. The next train wouldn't come for another fifteen minutes. Feeling regretfull already, Sehun went back up to go to the bodega upstairs. Might as well have breakfast, he figured. 

     The deli wasn't as packed as it was usually, and Sehun was thankful. He looked around, a habit he acquired after getting caught in the middle of a stick up in his old neighborhood. There wasn't anyone except for a drop-dead gorgeous girl and someone else in the back that he couldn't see. He eyed the girl for a little as he leaned on the counter. She had deep, dark skin and long hair in loose waves. Looking at her, he felt a sudden sadness wash over him. He didn't know why. Sighing, he finally turned to face the man behind the counter. 

     "Wassup, Ali?" He regarded the clerk with a lazy smile. 

      "Hey, man. You don't look too good."

      "Man, don't even talk about it. Hook me up with a toasted bagel with butter. I'm pressed for time." He smiled, again, hoping the cheery clerk didn't say anything else. Thankfully, his wishes were granted and Ali went to make the bagel with nothing more than a nod. Sehun sighed and looked at the time again - 11:09. He heard another train but he convinced himself it was only the Q and fretfully waited for his order. Upon Ali's return, Sehun slapped down a dollar and began to rush out. However, when he turned around he saw no other than his "boyfriend" Luhan holding hands with that very girl he noticed a few minutes ago. 

     "Are you kidding me?!" He yelled.

     Luhan's hands darted into his pockets. "She's just my friend, trust m-"

     "No, no, no. I don't have time for this." Sehun said, pushing the two of them and going back into the train station.

 

      The holidays have always been special to Sehun. It wasn't the family aspect that entranced him, as he didn't have much of a family. He didn't care about gifts, either. The only thing that Sehun truly loved about the holidays was the way the city could light up. He loved the way New York City glowed in a way that it couldn't in the summer. Sehun was, as childlike as this may be, infatuated by the lights. Sometimes, he liked to sit outside of the Rockefeller Center just to be around it all. This is how he met Luhan. Sehun mused over all of the people enjoying themselves, contemplating what their personal lives were like. He often saw couples, laughing and holding hands. He watched them and wondered what it was like to really love and be loved. As he thought about this, he felt someone gently move his things to the side and sit down. Slightly startled (he was suprised at how someone could easily displace a stranger's things without asking), he turned to the person and looked at him quizzically. 

     It was a man with pale skin and dark hair. He had an aloof air to him, as he didn't regard Sehun in the slightest. He didn't even mutter a "sorry," only tapped away on his cellphone. Even so, something about him seemed gentle. Sehun took this as accidental rudeness. He cleared his throat, and the stranger looked up, as if on cue. The man smiled and finally apologized to Sehun. 

      "Hey. Sorry for moving your stuff."

      Sehun was taken aback. "Oh, um. It's fine." He returned the smile, albeit weakly. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to this stranger, but he was slightly intimidated. Sehun found him to be unbelievably attractive. He looked away, nervous, looked back up at the man, then smiled again. 

      "What's your name?" the stranger asked kindly. 

      "S-s-sehun..."

      The man chuckled. "Your lisp is cute."

      "Oh, come on. Why'd you mention that?" Sehun sighed. 

       "Hey, hey," the man started softly. He moved closer to Sehun and put his arm around Sehun's shoulder, leaning in to make eye contact. "I'm only kidding. I mean, it is cute, but I don't mean to make fun of you." 

        Sehun nodded quietly. From that moment, the two talked deep into the night. They talked, watching as the amount of people around them dissipated. They talked until the lights around the Center went out. They talked until a guard came up to them and told them that they'd been there too long, and they needed to go home. Even then, they roamed the city, continuing to talk until the only thing you could hear were their low voices. 

       When the man took Sehun home that night, hushed tones turned into soft touches. Sehun felt like what he was doing was wrong, but it felt right. He was tired of being alone. He wanted to love. Really love. He wanted someone to love him back. So when the stranger pinned him into the wall and kissed him, Sehun didn't object. When cold fingertips made it's way under the waistband of his jeans, he didn't push them away. And when those same fingertips Sehun's length, he only moaned in approval.