Kyungsoo likes Mondays. 

He doesn’t tell anyone because it sounds lame. But he likes that on Mondays, there isn’t an implicit cultural force pushing him to “go out” and “have fun.” Going to work is just fine, thank you.

He spots Chanyeol at the base of the stairs. The taller man has a guitar slung over his shoulder and a messenger bag hanging to his side. He looks surprised to see Kyungsoo but quickly recovers.

“Hey! How’s it going?”

Kyungsoo smiles in response. “Pretty well. You?” They hadn’t chatted since yesterday morning, and Kyungsoo wonders where they stand. 

“I’m good! Just getting ready to head to work. I’m guessing you’re the same?”

Kyungsoo nods. But he’s surprised; he had assumed that Chanyeol worked at the bookstore, and Chanyeol’s casual plaid shirt and faded jeans hadn’t suggested otherwise. 

“I teach at a daycare,” Chanyeol offers as they walk side by side toward the main cross section “Don’t really need to suit up for that.”

“Ah.” 

“Yeah, kind of weird for a guy, huh?” Chanyeol says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Not as legit as working at a big law firm, I know, but I love kids and teaching so—”

“That’s cool,” Kyungsoo cuts in. 

“What?”

“I think it’s a cool job,” he repeats with an earnest solemnity. “I don’t think it’s weird at all, or less ‘legit.’”

“Oh.” Chanyeol blinks, taken aback. 

“Sometimes our firm sponsors volunteer events with kids and those are always fun. I used to think—well…anyway, I think that I’d enjoy working with kids too.”

Kyungsoo, who had been staring ahead, turns to look at Chanyeol. A slow, vibrant smile dawns on the latter’s face. Kyungsoo feels strangely uplifted.

“Have a good day,” he says at the entrance to the subway, where they part ways. 

“Yeah, you too!” 

On the subway, Kyungsoo is surrounded by his usual cohort of suits and ties. Everyone is absorbed into themselves—ipads, phones, books. Some doze off. No one finds it at all remarkable that they’ve gathered together in this large city only to hurtle through its maze of dark tunnels. 

Kyungsoo has begun to question whether there is a light at the end. Maybe everyone is just moving in perpetual darkness, going nowhere in particular, but too distracted by their own meaningless existence to care. Kyungsoo has been thinking about this more and more recently. He almost laments the fact that he’s lost his own ability to be distracted.  

But today, he’s granted a small reprieve. His mind skips the dark thoughts and dwells instead on the possibility of genuine social interactions in a place that thrives on superficiality. 

***

“You shouldn’t let him do that,” Krystal says, frowning. 

“Do what?”

“Take credit for your work.”

Kyungsoo smiles awkwardly and explains, “Joonmyeon sunbae isn’t like that.”

“He’s going to you over.” Krystal doesn’t even look up from her screen. She sounds bored. Kyungsoo isn’t sure what to say in response.

He had been intimidated by Krystal in the beginning, in the same way that all pretty girls intimidated him. She was nice when they first met, oozing with saccharine sweetness at the firm orientation. Male associates gravitated towards her, and even the older partners catered to her whims. She was a beautiful woman who knew how to use her power. It was precisely that attribute that had once repelled Kyungsoo. 

But weeks into sharing an office, Kyungsoo learned that there was something hard about her too. It’s in the way her thin lips press together into a mean line when someone overlooks her. It’s in the way her glittering eyes narrow dangerously when someone attempts to pass her off as an unassuming, complacent girl. It’s in the way her voice deepens and projects when she speaks up at meetings and captures the attention of the room. 

Over the two years they’ve been office mates, Kyungsoo’s learned that Krystal doesn’t take from anyone and he’s grown to respect that.

“Just send your own ideas to Lee Sooman. What’s so hard about that? Dear Sooman, I think we should look into the due diligence defense. I have found the following relevant code revisions. Come on Soo, piece of cake. You don’t need to go through Joonmyeon the middle man,” Krystal chides in exasperation even as she patters on methodically with her manicured nails. They’ve had this conversation before. 

Kyungsoo stalls. “I can’t address him by Sooman. We don’t do that in Korea. I’ll be fired.”

Krystal pauses her typing and raises a brow, unimpressed. 

Joonmyeon pops back in. He wears his customary, mildly apologetic smile and says, “Sorry Kyungsoo, but I was wondering about that document, could you possibly—” He’s interrupted by the loud bang of Krystal slamming her laptop shut. 

“Sorry. Meeting. Gotta run.” Krystal sweeps past Joonmyeon without acknowledging him. She shoots a meaningful look at Kyungsoo before she clips down the hall in her sleek stilettos.

Joonmyeon frowns. “Is she always like that?”

“Huh?”

“It’s a bit rude, is all. Well, I guess women like her—”

“—Say, what were you going to ask me?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t want Joonmyeon to finish that sentence. He doesn’t want to have to agree with the older man out of respect. He thinks Krystal’s wonderful.

***

6 p.m. 

“What are you ordering tonight?” Krystal asks.

Kyungsoo rubs at his tired eyes and blinks owlishly. “Bibimbap I guess.”

Krystal rolls her eyes. “Come on, man. Can’t you order something more extravagant once in awhile? It’s not like you’re paying.”

Kyungsoo shrugs carelessly. Meals at the office, they’ve all become the same to him now. He’s usually so preoccupied with work that he hardly registers what the food tastes like. What does it matter if the client’s paying for it? It’s just sustenance. 

A loud beep from his personal cell startles Kyungsoo. He skims the new text with some surprise. 

Hey, we’re eating tofu stew tonight. Grandma wants to know if you’re interested in joining? Would love to have you.

Kyungsoo stares blankly at the message for a few moments. Somehow, he hadn’t expected Chanyeol to actually extend an invitation. And further, how long has it been since he’s had home made stew for dinner? 

But in any case:

Sorry, working late, so I don’t think I can make it. But thank you for the invitation.

Half a minute passes.

Sorry to hear that! Will miss you at dinner, but good luck with work :) 

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“You look…happy.” Krystal narrows her eyes suspiciously. “Did something happen?”

Kyungsoo chuckles softly and shakes his head. “No, nothing.”

In fact, Krystal’s wrong. He’s actually annoyed. For the first time in months, he feels a sense of irritation at having to work late.

***

It’s not until Thursday that Kyungsoo gets out of work at a normal hour. He picks up a fruit basket on the way home and, after overcoming some hesitation, walks trepidatiously into the bookstore. 

It’s not too crowded. A few customers sit on the couch, flipping through books and sipping on tea. A few others stand at the shelves, browsing. Kyungsoo doesn’t recognize anyone, but they seem like comfortable old-timers. 

Yura greets him with a surprised hello when she catches sight of him. 

“Hello,” Kyungsoo returns with a shy smile. “I wanted to thank you for breakfast on Sunday, but I haven’t had the chance. I thought I’d—” He motions to hand the fruit basket to Yura.

Yura smiles brightly and accepts the gift with grace. “You really didn’t have to! We loved having you. It’s too bad you’ve been working late—but, hey, are you free tonight?”

“I—”

“Grandma’s grilling octopus, and it’ll be delicious. Please do stay.”

“…Sure, I’d love to.”

“Great! Look, Chanyeol isn’t home yet, so you’re welcome to browse or whatever. We’ll eat around 7:30—is that okay?”

“Of course.”

The bookstore has an eclectic selection of new bestsellers and used books. Kyungsoo finds himself gravitating towards the comics section. He picks up a worn copy of Slam Dunk and flips through absently. Unbeknownst to himself, his lips quirk into a smile as he falls into the world of Sakuragi.

Even after all these years, Sakuragi’s silly trials and tribulations amuse him. He begins to feel a sense of nostalgia. Nostalgia for the simpler days of high school in the suburbs, when he knew all the kids and everyone was more naive and open. He tried to play basketball back then too, though of course, his height prevented him from ever pursuing the sport seriously. Now, he neither has time for basketball nor books. Nor does he really have anyone to play with, he realizes. Taeyeon, he predicts, wouldn’t be too amused with watching him and Baekhyun play one on one. 

“Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo looks up from his book and sees Chanyeol. The taller man is dressed in another iteration of plaid and jeans and looks as relaxed and cheerful as ever. 

“Hello.”

“Hey! Good to see you again. Not being overworked today?”

Kyungsoo smiles and shakes his head. 

“I used to love this series,” says Chanyeol as he grabs another volume of Slam Dunk off the shelves.

“Didn’t we all?”

“Yeah. I almost thought about going into professional basketball!”

“Really. Well, some of us aren’t built for that,” Kyungsoo remarks sardonically.

Chanyeol laughs. “No, I’m not either. You don’t even know how uncoordinated I am. I was always benched.”

Kyungsoo glances at Chanyeol in surprise. The Chanyeol in his mind had at some point in time taken on the character of one of those lean and graceful pretty boys—more of a Rukawa, for sure. He voices the thought, which draws a few chuckles of disbelief from the taller man.

“Yeah…nope. Definitely not.”

“Chanyeol’s definitely a complete goofball,” says Yura as she migrates over to them. She smirks at Chanyeol’s glare. “Anyway, dinner’s ready if you guys are.”

Kyungsoo nods and puts the book back. As they walk away, he feels the lingering desire to return some day soon and read the series again in the quiet bookstore. 

***

“Thanks again for dinner.”

He and Chanyeol stand at the door to his apartment. It’s a repeat of last time, only this time, it’s dark out and the stars twinkle at them from the distance. Chanyeol smiles brightly. “I’m glad you could come this time!”

“Yeah. Thank you, it was a great meal.” Kyungsoo responds seriously. “And I might stop by again to read.”

“Yeah, come whenever! I might read with you next time. Almost forgot how great that series is.”

Kyungsoo nods in agreement. Then, after a brief lull, he blurts, “Do you ever feel jealous of their friendship?”

Chanyeol looks taken aback by the sudden question. Kyungsoo himself looks surprised. He doesn’t know why he felt compelled to ask Chanyeol, who’s little more than an acquaintance, and he wishes he could retract the statement. “Sorry, I mean. It’s just that sometimes, I feel like you don’t really form those friendships in real life. And it—it’d be nice, is all.” Kyungsoo finishes by averting his eyes in embarrassment. “Anyway, I’m just rambling. Thanks again for dinner—”

“No, I agree.”

Kyungsoo looks up in surprise.

“I don’t have that many close friends myself,” Chanyeol admits. “I’m not from the city originally, and it’s actually pretty hard to get to know people here. So yeah, I guess we all sort of yearn for really close friends. They’re hard to come by.”

Kyungsoo blinks. “Oh.” You too? he wants to ask. He had thought that Chanyeol, with his good looks and easy nature, would surely have a ton of friends and wouldn’t understand where he was coming from. 

“Hey actually, a couple friends and I are in a band and we perform at the local cafe—the one two blocks away—on weekends. If you’re free, you’re welcome to stop by? It could be fun. I mean, you only just moved to the neighborhood, so it might be a good chance to meet some people around here, and…and you can watch me embarrass myself on the guitar?”

Kyungsoo blinks again.

That’s not really my scene. 

I don’t like to go out on weekends.

I don’t like meeting strangers.

Big eyes stare at him in anticipation.

“I…sure. I’ll check it out.”

“Great!”

Later, when he’s lying in bed, Kyungsoo finds that he doesn’t mind the thought of attending the performance after all. In fact, for the first time in awhile, he almost looks forward to the weekend. He could have fun too, couldn’t he?