When I was little, my mom always told me that fate was funny in hindsight -- that while we can go through gruelling instances of pain, rejection, hurt, and unlucky coincidence, when we look back on our lives, those things aren’t so bad, and we teach ourselves to laugh at them. I didn’t believe her until my early and mid-twenties.

    I was twenty-two when I had entered a work program at one of the most prestigious art museums in Seoul. I’d gotten in on luck, smiles, and the fact that I didn’t show them about seventy-five percent of my portfolio, which was all much more comic book-y in nature. Everything they got to see was realism work of the parks, a few pictures of my old friend Wonshik, who admittedly I drew a bit too much when he was still a point of my romantic interest, and a couple “abstract” pieces of which, I’ll be the first to admit, were literally me bullting and painting shapes arbitrarily in colors I thought were pretty. To make a long story short, my portfolio was complete bull, and it got me one of the best jobs I’d ever have.

    My first week was filled with ups and anxious greetings -- I’d like to think I was a generally cheerful person, but you can only mess up saying your own name so many times in introducing yourself before it starts to take a toll on you. I got into the swing of things, though. It only took a week for me to lose to starstruckness. I didn’t stutter when I met the artists that came in for showings. I didn’t have to refer to the directory when people asked where certain pieces were. Even if I was seated toward the front desk or somehow got stuck in the gift shop because someone was taking too long in their lunch break, I was able to find balance. Cheerfulness, even.

    Once I had gotten used to the commute and could predict the time it would take me to get from my small, new studio apartment in a building crammed in with two just like it and several weird shops (overall, a neighborhood I was quite fond of), I was able to leave earlier, and opted to go get some coffee at a small cafe, and then headed down to the bridge over the river, watching the sun rise. It was there that I met Jung Taekwoon.

    He was sitting on the edge of the bridge, looking out at the water, and when I had first walked over to him and introduced myself, I was half-worried that he was going to jump off. Well...perhaps more than half. I sat beside him, as we were the only ones there at that time, and I figured it would be weirder if I pretended I didn’t see him.

    “Come here often?” I asked, sipping the soy mocha latte I’d gotten, which burned my tongue -- I wanted to wince, but I was attempting to make a good first impression, and crying about coffee wasn’t exactly a good way to start.

    He nodded softly, and I hummed. He didn’t talk much.

    “I’ve never looked out at the water in a place like this -- I’ve passed by the river before but I never lived in a place in the city where I could actually just hang out by it, ya know? It’s nice…” I sighed, having enough common sense to blow on my latte a bit this time before I took a swig. “I hope you don’t mind if I come back here…? It’s a really nice way to start off the day.”

    He shook his head, and I smiled, extending my hand for him to shake as we sat on the edge together, feet dangling, a sense of danger in the pit of my stomach that I kind of liked. It woke me up more than lattes. “My name is Lee Jaehwan,” I introduced myself with a wide grin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

    He finally turned his head and looked at me, and I was taken aback -- normally I wouldn’t use pretty as a word to describe someone who most likely identified as male but..., he was pretty. He gently took my hand and just barely shook it -- his hands were ice cold, and I could tell from his demeanor that his weak handshake was not a sign of weakness or disdain, but rather, shyness. I gently squeezed his hand to reassure him that I wouldn’t hurt him, and he spoke.

    “My name is Taekwoon…” he murmured, and frankly, I couldn’t stop staring at his lips. That was, until I actually made eye contact with him. Between his slightly messy black hair and sleepy, feline eyes, he really did just look like a huge kitty, and I sort of fell in love with that. He reminded me of Wonshik in that way. His face was just so interesting, and it was a few moments before I realized I was blatantly staring, and that I had yet to let go of his hand.

    I pulled away and bowed my head in apology, then checked the time. “I should uh...I should head to work. See you tomorrow morning?” I asked, hoping I had somehow made a new friend through our painfully awkward encounter.

    He nodded, and I grinned like an idiot on my way to work.

    Hongbin was another person I would describe as pretty, but it made sense considering his presentation on most days. He was genderfluid, and I never knew when he would come in looking masculine or feminine -- he didn’t mind he/him pronouns so there was no need to switch things up, and no matter how he dressed, he was always just ing pretty. We met on my second day, and while we were usually split up, posted in different parts of the museum, there were occasional days where our lunch breaks or posts would align. The day I met Taekwoon was one of those days, and we headed to a small family run cafe and split a too-large bowl of soup. Hongbin was wearing one of his wigs, a long reddish brown one that complimented his slightly golden skin tone. I made a note that I’d have to draw him a few times in the future in his different looks. His face was the plain, conventional kind of pretty, but he was so interesting that he made it seem different.

    He kicked my ankle lightly under the table, his heel of his pumps digging into my foot. “What the hell was that for?” I huffed, stealing the oyster he was eyeing. He rolled his eyes and motioned his head over to one of the tables by the window. I recognized the electric blue hair right away but didn’t say anything.

    “He’s really cute, don’t you think? I kinda wanna talk to him…” Hongbin spoke, keeping his voice down in case the man at the window, who I knew all too well, could hear him.

    “Well then why don’t you?” I asked, downing the oyster and chuckling when he pouted at me.

    “Gender identity aside, to him, I just look like a dude in a dress,” Hongbin pointed out. “Not exactly in the proper attire to hit on guys at the moment.”

    I rolled my eyes and took a swig of his coke, for which he kicked me under the table again. “Dude, even if you are a guy in a dress, you’re the prettiest person within a ten mile radius that I know of right now. And honestly, if no one hears you talk, it’s not really that obvious that you’re a guy.”

    He looked at me deadpan and spoke, “...Jaehwan.”

    “Hm?”

    “I have to talk to him to hit on him.”

    “Oh. Oops~”

    He sighed and shook his head, tying the hair of his wig back as he continued to eat. I looked back at the guy at the window, and we locked eyes. ‘,’ I thought. ‘Here we go.’

    Wonshik got up and walked over, smiling that ‘I know something you don’t’ smile he always had -- the one I crushed on for far too long but convinced myself to get over. He sat beside me and nudged me, “Yah, you saw me and didn’t say hi, Jaehwan?” he teased. “You’re so mean~” he feigned a hurt expression.

    I shook my head and smiled, “I just didn’t wanna intrude -- whatcha doing around here?” I asked and looked over briefly at Hongbin, who looked across the table at me with an incredulous, ‘you ing know him?!’ expression. I smiled sheepishly at him and nodded, then listened as Wonshik explained that he’s going to school for music and dance at one of the small artsy universities in the area. He looked over at Hongbin and then back to me incredulously.

    “You...uh...date girls now?” he asked, confused.

    I shook my head, “We’re not on a date.”

    “And I’m not a girl,” Hongbin piped up. He and Wonshik locked eyes, and in that moment, I wanted to slither down my seat and crawl out from under the table and leave; I had become a third wheel very quickly.

    Wonshik always had a fascination with what he didn’t understand but wanted to know, so Hongbin explaining his gender identity and how he just felt like looking feminine was by far the most interesting thing Wonshik had heard all day, and he listened attentively to everything Hongbin had to say. I could see the little cogs and gears in his head turning, and it was clear he was taking mental notes of everything Hongbin talked about. Soon they got on the topic of photography, and Wonshik began to go on one of the poetic tangents that I would used to love to listen to for hours.

    “I think photographers are just so beautiful,” he sighed, looking at Hongbin like the diety that he most likely was. “The fact that you can see little intricacies and moments in the world and know when to capture them is amazing. And then it’s just so personal. Like, to share with the world what you see as beautiful -- which is such a deep thing about a person -- is so brave. People can learn so much about your hopes and fears and dreams and what you love just by looking at your work, and you let them. You let them put together the pieces and I...that’s just so beautiful.”

    Hongbin was flushed and grinning like an idiot, and I slowly slid my money for the meal onto the table and got Wonshik to get up so I could head out. They were both so focused on each other that they barely noticed me leaving.

    I walked back to the museum and finished up for the day. I got to help lock up, and I said goodbye to all the security guards near my post before I left. The sun was setting, and I had to pull my sweater out of my bag as it got colder. It was summer, but being so close to the river at night made it chilly. I opted to pick up dinner from a place next to the cafe I’d gotten my coffee from earlier in the morning, and in that moment, I remembered Taekwoon, the guy from the bridge.

    I got some japchae to take home, and then walked out of the restaurant and to the bridge hopefully. There were a lot more people there in the evening, and I walked along the length of it, looking around for any sign of Taekwoon. When I got to the other end, I sighed and shook my head. It was silly of me to assume he’d be there all day.

    That was until I felt a small tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see him, getting a fuller look at him now that we were both standing.

    I was taller than him, but he was built different than me -- his thighs were thicker, his arms more muscular, his torso wider. He was wearing the same dark jeans and black sweater, which was a big too big and came over his hands.

    “I-I...hi…” I smiled sheepishly. “Good to see you again.”

    He tilted his head, “Were you...looking for me?”

    . Busted. I bowed my head in apology, “It was more of a uh...I didn’t think you would actually…”

    “You assumed I wouldn’t be here but you were hoping I would be…?” he helped, and I nodded. Perhaps I was crazy, but I thought I could see a little smile tug at the corner of his lips. “Did you need me for something?”

    “No, well, I…” I thought about Wonshik and Hongbin, and how they would probably become inseparable within a matter of hours. I thought about the lonely lunches or third wheelings I’d be pulling, and before I could stop myself I blurted out, “Do you wanna come to lunch with me tomorrow?”

    He looked at me, his cat eyes widening only slightly in surprise, and I was preparing myself for him to call me ing crazy and walk off. But it didn’t happen. He nodded softly, and then cooed, “When and where?”

    I scrambled to take out my phone and unlocked it, handing it to him shyly. “Um...gimme your number and I can text you? I kinda bounce from place to place during my lunch break, so…”

    He took my phone, his cold fingers brushing over mine. I watched him put in his information slowly -- he typed with both thumbs, and it was kind of cute watching him mess up, huff softly, and backspace with all the mild aggression of a small kitten. Once he was done, he handed the phone back to me.

    “See you tomorrow…” he said before going, and for the first time since I’d moved to the city for work, I actually felt at home.