Kyungsoo

      “Do you mind repeating what you just said? That type of genius cannot go to waste.” She chirps. I smile and repeat my morbid spill on death again. It is weird to discuss such a somber topic, but she makes it seem like it is as normal as brushing her teeth every day.

    Klutzy girl pens rapidly in her withered leather notebook. Sticky remnants of what were once stickers remain on the cover causing me to wonder us how long she has had this notebook.

   “How long have you been a writer?” I ask.

    She chuckles half-heartedly. “You can barely call me a writer. I can never finish what I start.”

   “That doesn’t make you any less of a writer. It just makes you a bad one.” I tease. She looks up at me with a fond gleam in her eyes. It’s the first time I truly take notice of the pair. Round and as dark as a glass of Coke.

   “Since I was eight years old.”

   “Wow! You’re a veteran aren’t you?” She shakes her head and tells me to stop pulling her leg.

    “You love to tease.” Klutzy girl says before explaining her history of writing. She wrote little stories when she was a child, and one of her classmates would illustrate the pictures, “He was big into blood and violence at the time so he doused the illustrations in red. Blood on the walls, burning houses, you name it. My teacher had to make a call home.” She shakes her head. I survey her lips--swollen and plump, undoubtedly from her unconscious biting on them. I am mesmerized. I have to keep myself from looking at them too often.

   “That price of creativity can be steep. Did you get in trouble?” I ask.

   “Nope. My parents only gave me a stern talk. They did take me a therapist, though.” She laughs, a hint of red appearing in her cheeks.

    Klutzy girl and I continue our conversation for a little while longer. It feels nice to relax and have a conversation with a girl. I am not, necessarily, awkward by any means. I can hold conversations with human beings, but it is not usual to have a steady conversation with a girl who is not an interviewer or higher up at the company.

    Suddenly her phone vibrates. Klutzy girl curses under her breath as she reads her screen. “I am late for something important. I have to go, but it was nice talking to you,” she pauses for a second, looking quizzically at me. I realize that we had yet to exchange names even though we had been interacting for few weeks.

   “Kyungsoo.” I say. She says my name quietly as to commit it to her memory. I like the way it sounds when she says it. I like the way it looks as her lips form every sound.

   “Iris.” She introduces herself with a small bow. “See you around.” I bow to her as she leaves the coffee shop. I watch her until she disappears into the crowds of the city.

    Iris. Like the flower. Or the rainbow. Pretty.

I do hope to see you around, Iris.