#butterfly tale 2023 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xerotiny99 · 10 days

Text

COLD COFFEE ✦ JEONG YUNHO

"Hey, your coffee's gone cold." A tale of two love-starved souls, who would only ever meet over a cup of coffee.

1 in heartbreak series Not what you wanted to read? Click here 🤎

Mature: depiction of suicide

Word Count: 15,068

A/n: this piece of work is fictional, and does not relate to the idol in any sense, shape or form. It is one of the first angst stories I’ve ever written, so do not expect much from me. Do not copy or plagiarise my ideas. This work focuses on mental health and suicide; read on your own accord. Do not read if easily triggered. I’ve written this book in the character’s pov, and it’s kind of like a second person perspective. Enjoy!

[Lee Saeyan] 9th Jan 2023

The night was cold. I watched it pass by me, standing behind the counter. Once bustling street was now deserted and vacant. Bored and exhausted, I started counting minutes until I would have to close the cafe and head back home.

Brewed coffee has a significant scent, I had realised it that night. The musty, somewhat, bitter and earthy fragrance, uplifts your mood. Eventually, I began looking around, wondering about life, and all those little things.

A bell chimed by the entrance. I was alerted to footsteps following its echo. You walked in, smiling and laughing, playfully prattling with your friend. I didn't pay attention to who it was, walking next to you, standing tall by your side. I didn't care, my eyes were only on you.

With your smile-struck face, you stepped up to the counter, looked me in the eye and your smile widened. Marvelous and quite beguiling. The way your eyes crinkled by the corner, almost shutting themselves, brought new feelings to my heart.

I awkwardly smiled at you, while you narrated your order.

"One decaf coffee, and one strong," you spoke to me, staring down at the display of confectioneries below. "Oh, and a chocolate cupcake."

You went on to sit by the window booth, your friend already in place, flashing you a smug smile. Minutes later, I stopped by your booth with your order, and I caught an eerie spark in your eye when you gazed at the cupcake. The decaf was for your friend, while the strong and bitter one was for you.

I went back behind the counter, biting my lips as I stared at you. I wanted to adore you, your features, and how striking they appeared under the moonlight. I wanted to cherish your smile, or the toothy grin you offered to your friend.

There were a lot of things I noticed about you that night; your big doe eyes encasing an entire universe, your lips always stretched in a warming curl. I observed you would twist the ring on your forefinger, frequently so. Is the ring significant to you? Maybe it is. You spoke to your friend with such enthusiasm, as if, it was the last time you'd meet him. It felt strange.

At the end of it, I was left feeling empty. When you were gone, everything seemed futile. Biting away at my impassive self, I tidied up the cafe before leaving. In your booth, out of the two mugs, yours was full. The cupcake was half-eaten, while your coffee had gone cold.

[Lee Saeyan] 23rd Jan 2023

Right after two weeks, I saw you make your presence again. You were alone. Your friend no longer by your side. With the sight of your face, my heart couldn't contain itself. The butterflies that would once flutter in my belly, had come alive in mere seconds, when you smiled at me.

I noted down your order again, it was the same; a strong coffee with a sweet confectionery on the side. You opted for a strawberry cupcake this time. My body shuddered for a minute when your fingers brushed against my hand while you were handing me money for your order. I let my fingertips linger over yours for a moment, until, your touch was seared on my skin—you pulled away almost too quickly.

You took your cup of coffee and the plate of cupcake, back to the window booth where you were sitting that night. Everything seemed similar to that night, the cascading moonlight caressing your face and embracing your smile. Except, this time, I had caught you in daytime, in the blazing sunlight. The haze of the sun spilled into your eyes; your brown eyes seemed like melted honey, slipping down over your cheeks.

You had your laptop opened in front of you, fingers pressing keys and creating an euphony of solace. I could hear it through the chatter abuzz in the cafe. It was helping me keep my mind off things, things I didn't want to think about. We shared a couple of awkward glances; even so, your smile didn't falter for one bit. Confounded by your cherry glazed lips, your sun-kissed cheeks, and your nebulous eyes, my heart thrashed on about in its bony cage—it wanted to be set free.

I averted my gaze then. Because holding your eyes was suffocating for me. Because whenever I'd catch a glimpse of your upturned lips, I'd freeze in my mind. Because, you were riveting, an enigma in the waiting, a mystery to unravel.

Hours dragged on, you did not move a space in that booth, continuing to type keys on your laptop. Sun changed its position in the sky, once it hung over our heads now it was ready to disappear beneath the sea of clouds. The lushness of vibrant pink and purple in the sky was a reminder, a reminder of how it was blushing because of your smile. My cheeks were tainted in the same shade, flustered and soft.

You waved me toward your booth, asking for a refill. You had munched on your cupcake, the plate displaying the remnants of gruffly crumbs. I held the kettle of coffee in my hand, but my attention was focused on you. The cause of my distraction was you; your long lashes fluttering at me, your lips still curled in a smile.

I filled your cup with too much coffee, and watched the white ridges of it overflow with the drink. A murky mess of brown stained the tablecloth beneath, it dispersed along like a river underneath, till it touched your hand. I apologised, and you said it was alright.

We moved on quick from the mishap. You laid a couple of tissue papers where the coffee was spilled, while I stood by you, wondering what you were up to. You peeked at me through your long lashes, and offered me a warm smile.

"I write." You said, as if you had read my mind for the question to answer. "I'm a local author. A romance author."

I went on to ask you if there was any work I was familiar with. You shook your head and murmured, "I'm yet to make a debut."

"Good luck." I wished you with all my heart, and went back to the counter.

Our conversation was small, a bit awkward but for me it was overwhelming. I kept replaying it in my mind, the sound of your voice, the way you pronounced your words, all of it. Night rolled around, and you were gone, evanescing into the cold of the night breeze. I came by your booth to clean the table. Your coffee had gone cold again.

[Lee Saeyan] 9th Feb 2023

Another two weeks had passed. Eagerly, I waited for you to show up again. It became a habit for me, waiting for you every day till I realised your pattern. Two weeks apart. Always. This day however, I was not alone in the cafe. I was accompanied by my coworker. Jung Wooyoung, is his name. He's a little puerile, perhaps a little inane for his age. Either way, he's kind, compassionate about little things in his life.

He was talking to me, eating my ear off about something. I never paid attention to him, I did not think of him to be worth of my time. Sometimes, I would register a phrase from him.

One day he came up to me and said, "I don't sleep. My mind has the scary capability of being dark and demented."

I asked, "are you afraid of your dreams?"

"Yes." He said quietly.

It made sense to me; Wooyoung's harrowing past keeps him up at night because of the frequent nightmares he has. His lack of sleep would be always evident in the morning, when he'd come to work with dark circles under his eyes, and his cheeks hollowed.

Wooyoung was talking to me about something. We were back by the kitchen counter, leaving the register deserted because it was almost time to close.

Out of nowhere, he blurted, "do you think the people who smile all the time have been hurt the most?"

"Why would you say that?" my mind raced to you, to your thoughts. You smiled all the time. I wondered why.

"It takes one to be brave to put on a front which says they're fine." Wooyoung continued, "these people have been hurt so many times that they don't care anymore. They want to spend rest of their lives with big smiles on their face."

It got me thinking. Wooyoung's notions have always been thought provoking. They force you to ruminate, contemplate and consider. I was amidst in my speculations, when the bell chimed. And there you were, striding in with a delicate smile on your face. You plodded up to the counter and followed me with your eyes. I took your order; it wasn't different from earlier. A cup of coffee, the usual strong one. You asked for it to be strong and bitter, and unlike the first encounters, you didn't have any sweet to pair it with.

You paid with cash, and let your fingers brush my palm. Your touch singed itself on my skin, gave me butterflies in my stomach. It was me who shied away this time, pulling my hand unconsciously away as if you were actually burning me. You found it odd, I know you did. Regardless, I shrugged it off and offered you a smile of my own, a little graceless than yours.

You waved it off as well, saying, "accidental touches like these are bound to happen."

I retorted, "you don't want anything sweet with your coffee today?"

You said, "I need something as dark as the night, today. Nothing sweet." You paused to grab the takeaway cup from Wooyoung and then you smiled at me, "if the moon can hide behind the darkness of the world, then so can I."

I didn't understand it at first. And it was too late to even ask you, because the moment your sound resonated in my soul, you were long gone, out of the cafe. I shared a glance with Wooyoung, biting my tongue, and he only gave me a stern nod.

I knew it then.

Your smiles aren't genuine, are they?

[Lee Saeyan] 23rd Feb 2023

Two weeks. You were really proper and exact with the days. It was nighttime, nearing to closing hours. The night was beautiful today, full moon and stars; moonshine as bright as your smile, and stars glimmering like dust on a black canvas. You walked in alone, with a guitar strapped to your back. At least that was I could assume considering its case was hanging across your shoulder.

You came straight to the counter, to me. Not ordering your usual, a decaf this time, you stood there, smiling at me. There was something you wanted to say. The way your face contorted; told me you had your words balancing by the tip of your tongue. But you didn't have the guts to make a sound.

Wooyoung was with me today as well, he was at the back preparing a couple's order who were sat by the corner table. Your window booth was empty, clean and struck with moonlight. Your eyes seemed to adore it, as you went by to occupy it. Since Wooyoung was busy, I had to prepare your order. I stopped by your booth, noticed you had unwrapped your guitar from the bounds of its cover. It was a dark blue guitar, with the edges even darker; a butterfly was painted right below the bridge.

I put your cup on the tabletop. I couldn't move my feet to walk away because I was enthralled by the way your fingers fretted with the strings. You strummed a low tune, and I was arrested in its dulcet harmony. Glancing at me, with your moonshine-struck eyes, you gestured me to sit in front of you. Hesitating a bit, I sat down anyway.

You sang an original song for me. A song you wrote back in the days when you felt lost. I listened to it and found my heart growing heavy, my eyes a little blurry; the couple clapped along with me and Wooyoung when you were done with your song. Although, the others reverted back to their business, I stayed back and initiated a conversation with you.

"Do you ever wonder if it really gets better or do, we just get used to it?" I was aware of what I asked you, it was pertinent to the song you sang.

"Sometimes it gets better." You continued, "sometimes it doesn't. So, you're compelled to get used to it."

"Does it have to be that way, always? Why can't we cling onto every littlest of hope to know it gets better," when I retaliated, you smiled at me, amused, "hope is a bewildering feeling. If you get too used to it, you try seeking it in every situation even when there isn't."

"But Yunho. Hope is a good thing..." I spoke your name for the first time, uttered it delicately and felt my throat clench; my heart pounded wildly in my chest, I bet you could hear it.

"Life's a little unfair sometimes," you murmured, shaking your head. Your guitar was back into its case, while you were collecting yourself, ready to leave the booth and me. "Hopefully, it isn't unfair on you. I pray to god it really isn't."

You left me stranded in my spot, alone in the cafe; I had failed to notice the couple had left too. Wooyoung came by, informed me of his duties for the night before closing. I stared at your cup of coffee...it's gone cold.

[Lee Saeyan] 9th Mar 2023

Fourteen days. 14 days since I last saw you, when you left me with a galling notion, the one which itched my brain in all the wrong ways. I thought about it. How you said you didn't want my life to be unfair on me. Why do you care? I don't care about my life myself. If it's unfair on me, I'll let it be. I'm past the point of living cautiously. If anything, I've become too careless and devoid of any responsibility.

Reckless I was, I dropped out of college, gave up on making a career. You don't know that about me, you don't know many things about me. This place, where the cafe is, belonged to my father. I told him I wanted to open a cafe on this street, right by the intersection and opposite to the city park. My cafe thrived for years, and it still does; I've long forgotten about my decision of dropping out of college. You visit my cafe without having any knowledge of it—you don't even know my name. But I do know yours.

Jeong Yunho, you're a conundrum for me, an enigma which stays under the pretence of being happy. Your fake smiles have cracks in them, your eyes veil endless spaces of darkness and your mind, you've given up on life. Yet, I wonder what you write. Your debut novel, I would love to read it. Because you have a way of perceiving this world, it is uniquely catered to you. I wonder how you perceive me.

Wooyoung was talking about his insomnia, and his recurring nightmare. He blabbered on about, while I tried my best to ignore it. At the end of every day, when the ambiguous night dawns over, I take a gander at the street and then at the road. I liked to watch people walking, stumbling in their feet as they dragged themselves back home. As I did today. It was already past our closing time; everything was cleaned and tidied, preparations were already made for tomorrow. When I peeped at the street, I saw a glimpse of you impatiently checking the time on your wristwatch. I wonder why you were standing there, tapping your feet to the rhythm of your irked mind. Me and Wooyoung walked out of the door, listening to the melody of the bell by the entrance.

I stayed back to lock the cafe behind me, while Wooyoung moved on ahead. He smiled at you, and you exchanged small yet heartfelt greetings; when he trudged along the street, leaving you alone, you stepped close to me. Nervously, you picked at the stray strands of your peachy hair, falling over your forehead. You then scratched the nape of your neck, lips trembling to speak. With the moon over our heads, and your eyes silently speaking of your intentions, I fathomed the possibility of you asking me out, maybe. Maybe.

You were right, clinging onto false hope is certainly heartbreaking. Seconds ticked louder in my mind, and my heart raced. I was waiting for you to say something and then you did. You took a deep breath and spelt out the words stinging on your tongue.

"Can I walk you home?"

I thought it was weird at first. Why would you wait for me to get off my shift and ask whether I wanted to be walked to my home or not? But I shrugged it off, just as I did with my other concerns. I let you walk me home. It came to my attention that we shared the same route to our apartments, and then you went on to say where exactly you stayed; a block away from me.

We talked about vague topics on our route. You asked me what my favourite cupcake flavour was. And I lied, saying it was cinnamon toast. We kept asking each other various questions, I got answers to all of mine and you to yours. I asked you a lot, from your favourite movie, to your favourite season. I realised you talked a lot. You liked talking a lot if you had someone to listen to you. I didn't mind it. I would listen to you forever if I could.

You asked me my name. And I told it you. "Lee Saeyan" whilst trying to prevent myself from blushing too much.

"Unique name," said you, who were staring up at the stars, "it means new and white. As much like the moon."

"There's nothing new about the moon." I rolled my eyes, pressing down a scoff.

"Oh, there is," you wanted to prove your point, "every phase of moon is new. You look up to the sky, you come across the same old phases, but are your wishes the same every day?"

I quietly shook my head, and you carried on, "your wishes are new and they should be new."

We walked in silence after that, under the doting moonlight. It didn't last long, however. You ached to speak, you ached to escape the silence between, because I did too. I wanted you to talk, keep talking. Between our synchronised footsteps and the hefty sound of our boots, you asked me something.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Maybe, it wasn't a false hope after all.

"No." I spoke. I didn't tell you the whole truth; about my ex and how he was back in town, asking me if there ever was a chance to us getting back together.

You believed me. Didn't pester me any further. I thought you'd press the question onto me, ask me if I was free tomorrow night, tell me you have a dinner reservation at some fancy restaurant. But you didn't and I knew why: you were waiting for the coffee to get cold.

[Lee Saeyan] 23rd Mar 2023

I absolutely despised the waiting part. It was hard. All those days I'd only think of you, conjecture the basics: what were you doing? Where were you? Why aren't you in love with me? Yes, the basics. I also questioned why I liked you so much. Why did I want to seek out the truth veiled in your smile? Was your smile even genuine at all? The basics.

Wooyoung took a day off today. I didn't feel his absence, but I felt the exhaustion from working and trying to fill in his place. I should hire one more person. Maybe I should, really. If I had thought about it earlier, I wouldn't have been complaining now.

You entered the cafe with three of your work friends; an hour before the closing time, you promenaded inside with your friends following you behind. I knew one of them from before, the slightly taller with slanted eyes and really defined cheekbones who accompanied you on your first night here. Other two were strangers to me: one had his hair dyed red, and other, a pretty shade of chestnut. But none could compare to you, with your peach coloured hair—almost like a wispy blush of a teenage girl who found her crush reciprocated her feelings.

Tentatively, I think I was morphing into a teenage girl as well. Always jittery when I saw you, always adoring a crimson fluster on my cheeks, and my mind filled with scenarios where you and I were always together. It'd be too stereotypical if I had a secret diary to write about you. Typical and cliche.

I came by your booth, once the red-haired guy waved me down. A notepad was ready in my hand to note your order. Profusely, you gazed at me and smiled, giving me a giddy curve of your lips while your eyes remained half-lidded. I grew concerned. Were you drunk? I wouldn't know. And judging by the state of your friends, I didn't think you were. Yet, you hiccuped and burped softly; as the polite man you are, you apologised to me.

"He's a little drunk," a friend of yours said, the one with fox-like features. "Don't mind him."

The red haired added on, "I think a simple soda ought to sober him up."

"No-no! I will have a cup of coffee." You giggled, and I bit down my own.

"Sure," the red haired rolled his eyes, slapping your back. He sat next to you, keeping his alertness on you. "If you throw up in my car, I swear I'll make you clean it with your tongue."

I coughed out a laugh this time. So, you were drunk. That explains it. But why were you drunk? I think I would've never known if your friends hadn't spoken on.

"He's wasted. So much for being lightheaded." The chestnut-haired guy piped in; I stared at him for a minute longer, realising how alike you two looked. "But get the birthday boy what he needs."

It was your birthday.

"And for the rest of you?"

"A latte for me," the red haired said, I caught up on his name later on: Hongjoong, Kim Hongjoong. He was your superior, the owner of the publishing company you wrote for.

"I'll have a decaf, thank you." San. Choi San. I knew him. But it didn't click in my head right away. He's an author just like you. He wrote mysteries and thrillers, however. A big name in the town.

The man sharing features similar to you turned out to be your younger brother, half-brother. "Can I get a lemon soda, please?" he said politely, and I could find your glimpses in him. Choi Jongho, I didn't know much about him because you never spoke about him. And I know you would refuse talking about him.

When I brought all of your orders to the booth, I noticed how dazed you were, how beautiful you looked with the silver moonshine falling on you. I didn't let it distract me from what I had intended on doing. I placed the drinks first, then I placed a plate containing a single chocolate cupcake on the table. It had a little candle in the centre, waiting to be lit up.

Your brows drew themselves together on your face and you pouted at it. I leaned over to light the candle, and your friends cheered you on.

"Make a wish," I whispered to you, but you kept staring at me. I noticed your eyes were glazed with tears, and knew you were trying your hardest to hold them in.

You did not utter a word and blew out the candle. Your friends chorused a loud and hearty 'happy birthday' while you were fixated on the cupcake in front of you. When you were done, I excused myself and returned back to the counter; I watched you from the distance then. You fell silent after that. But your friends didn't seem to notice it. I did, however. Observed you with an open heart, wondered what weighed your own this time.

It almost brought me to tears. Thinking about how ignorant your friends were—or did they really not have a clue about your woes? I thought about it, when they'd actually acknowledge your solitude. But they didn't. Not for the night when you were sitting in that booth, saying nothing to them. Because they would realise it by the time your coffee had gone cold.

[Lee Saeyan] 9th Apr 2023

The night was beautiful today. Weirdly alluring. Prepossessing scenarios in my mind; about us. You could drag me far away from this world, from my tensed reality, with your hand in mine, your eyes on me: I, hopelessly falling in love with you. Again, and again. No distractions seemed to work for me to bring me out of my reverie, my thoughts always circled back to you, to your smile. Though, I really racked my brain about us: would you really take me away from here?

I didn't hate my life. But with you, I dreamt to live it a little differently. I pictured us together in a small apartment, lounging in the bedroom; you on the mattress we bought together, laying on the floor, drafting your novels on your laptop, while I read your books on a secondhand futon. Fairy lights would decorate the ceiling, a lot of them, changing colours as hours passed by. A pet fish, swimming in a fishbowl, perched perfectly in our bedroom window. The same window which would show us the city lights, the street downstairs, the buzzing of cars and pedestrians; we'd compose stories about them, about random strangers walking past our apartment.

It came to me later on, how deeply invested I was in you. You—you had taken a part of me, and locked it in a cage, you wore it on your sleeve, kept me close to your chest. I had gotten so used to you, to you showing up at my cafe every two weeks, wearing your jubilant smile which held no flaws. I was so used to seeing you, it made me smile. But, what if I don't see you anymore? What if you disappear from my life forever? I thought your smile didn't have any flaws. It never could have any. But you do have your reasons to fake your smile. I wonder what all you could feign about, when your feigned smile is so genuine and easily to believe. You could lie to me straight through your teeth, and I'd believe you without blinking my eyes.

So, tonight, when you walked up to me and held my hand out nowhere, and said you had to talk to me, I didn't question it. I obliged to you, as you dragged me out the cafe. I shot Wooyoung an apologetic frown, he understood and gave me an understanding nod. There was something odd about his smile though, as if he didn't want me to go along with you. I was foolishly in love with you, blind even. Because you showed me a lot of warning signs and I ignored them all.

Your hand was snug in mine, warm and tight, our fingers intertwined. We crossed the street together, not having a care about any passing vehicles. A streetlight flickered when we turned a corner. You kept our pace steady, our feet falling in-synch. You brought me to the main gate of the city park; the huge metal gates, having intricate patterns meshed in. You knew a way to sneak us inside, a small opening in the wall on the east side.

We ran through the lush landscape, along the yellow bricked pavement, under the desultory light of the moon; you brought me to the lake, it was ravishing. The scene in front me was gorgeous, absolutely stunning; moon reflected on the surface, surrounded by glimmering stars. Shadows of trees stretched out across, darkness enveloping both of us. You stood next to me, staring at the water, while I stared at you. You didn't care about getting caught, did you?

Against the late-night breeze, we stood for a while; you kept me close to your side. A shiver forced me to wince, and I hugged myself close. Without hesitating, you shrugged off your jacket and slung it on my shoulders. I was wrapped in your warmth, in your scent: it was a lovely fragrance, a bit of musk and lavender. You offered me a smile, and I saw your eyes crinkling by the corners.

"The moon's beautiful, isn't it?" you asked, as if it wasn't meant to be a question.

I nodded, "it is."

For some reason I couldn't get myself to speak, my sound kept hitching in my throat.

"I know this is too forward of me, but..." you dragged your words with longing seconds, unsure of what to say further. "Can we be friends?"

Friends. My heart cracked a little. I didn't let it show on my face. "Sure. Why not. I thought we were friends already."

"I needed reassurance." You grinned, "so, are we friends?"

"Of course." I assured you with a smile of my own. Silence settled in. It suffocated me again, just as your stare did. I wasn't mad about you asking me to be your friend, but I was mad at myself for ever imagining there'd be something more than friends between us.

False hope.

At least, in the moment, I thought about how heartbreaking it was. Somehow, you changed my mind. I didn't know what possessed you, but you cupped my face gently in your palms first. Then, you leaned in; my heart constricted itself from beating, I even forgot to breathe. When your lips touched mine, my concerns faded away. It was only you, and the way your lips wrapped mine. I kissed you back. Passionately. Hoping my kiss would change your mind. And it did, perhaps because you were devouring my mouth with yours. And how ironic, for the moon to witness our heated exchange.

"Friends don't kiss." I stated, pulling away, not far back, but you rested your forehead on mine. The warmth from your hands still felt on my cheeks. "Friends never kiss each other like this."

"Maybe we aren't meant to be friends, then." you answered my dilemma, with such ease. "What do you want, Saeyan?"

"I don't want the coffee to go cold."

[Lee Saeyan] 10th Apr 2023

It was a dream. I was dreaming. I even pinched myself to wake up. No, I was still here with you. In your apartment, tangled in your arms and the sheets beneath us. Yesterday we kissed, which didn't feel like a dream at all. Because it was surreal, our kiss. And that kiss led us to here, to your apartment, where we were a mess in your bed. I cannot stress this enough, I was in your bed, naked, with your arms around my waist, as you snuggled deep into the crook of my neck.

Your snores brushed against my skin, tickling me. Your hair laid soft against my cheek, and your long lashes almost touched your cheekbones. I still remember how we spent the night; it makes my body shudder when I think about it. Our chemistry was unparalleled, our bodies fitting perfectly together like pieces of puzzle and our souls were enraptured by our desires.

I feel your touch lingering on my skin, on all the places you kissed me last night. I feel my lips tingle, and my mind retraces back to trifling memories of last night. I turned around in your bed, prying your arms off of me. You didn't wake up. You were in deep slumber, and I took it to my advantage. I got dressed, without making a sound.

Something made me gander at your nightstand, and then I saw it, the manuscript for your novel. The title read in bold letters atop the paragraphs: 'Before the Coffee Goes Cold'. A smile came to my lips, and I traced over the words, eagerly wanting to glance a little more of what you had written. I sat by the edge of the bed, the manuscript in my hands as I read. Delicate crinkles of paper were resonating in the humid room, while sunlight creeped in through the window just above your bed. It fell through, nonchalantly caressing your face.

Your pale complexion was stricken with a golden glow. I shook my head, knowing there'd be other times when I'd get to admire your beauty. I got myself to read the first paragraph of your manuscript. It described how the main character loves coffee and owns a small coffee shop. It extended on for few more lines, with you writing about the character and how you perceived her. Female lead. I felt my stomach twist. Did you write about me?

I pressed my lips together, preventing myself from making any sound. I was overwhelmed, deluged by the excessive adrenaline pumping through my blood. I was your muse. You perceived me as someone suitable for the character you designed in your mind; I felt good. I felt...

The rustling of the sheets alerted me, you were waking up. I put the manuscript back on the nightstand and turned around to find you smiling at me, your eyes were merely squinted at the daylight flooding in. My heart fluttered a little, observing you, the pretty mess you were in the early morning.

"Good morning." you wished groggily, your voice too deep and coarse.

"Good morning," I chirped. "Slept well?"

"I should be the one asking you that."

"I slept great. Don't worry." I assured you. I caressed your cheek, dragged the tip of my forefinger along your nose and lips. "You're really pretty. God you're just...breathtaking." I blurted out, not realising I really had spoken the words trapped in my heart.

You laughed, it was deep and symphonic. "I've been told. Some find my beauty intimidating. Did you too?"

"I find your mind intimidating," I answered truthfully, reading your eyes, counting the specs of green threaded between the sea of brown. "The way you think and act; your smile, you hide a million things behind it. You're not true to yourself..."

"This is a first," you muttered, bewildered. "Where many people look at my perfections and my appearance, you sought to the only thing I resent; my flaws."

"Everyone has flaws." I shrugged, and you retaliated, "I was supposed to hide mine."

"You can't hide them forever, Yunho." I sternly stated.

You agreed, "that's true. I wouldn't want to hide mine from you."

"Because I was the first to find them in you?"

"Because you're the first and the last to ever see them." You murmured to yourself, making it incoherent. You didn't dwell on it, rather you smiled at me. "I am comfortable with who I am when I'm around you."

I pressed my lips against your forehead, reflecting back on your smile with mine. "I would love to keep you around forever. I like you, Yunho."

You acted as if you didn't acknowledge my confession. I knew the truth. I knew your heart had skipped a beat listening to me say it. I watched you get out of the bed. You pulled your briefs up and dressed yourself in sweatpants, fishing it out from your closet.

"Coffee?" you asked me, running your hand through your disheveled hair.

"Of course." I said and you disappeared from my sight.

I stayed in the room, looking around. Perusing through, I found a blank sheet on your nightstand, under the manuscript. I found an ink pen in the drawer of your nightstand and scribbled my phone number on the sheet. I placed it above the manuscript. Because it didn't just have my number on it, there was something else, a message, a note, a sense.

I found you in the kitchen when I got out of the room. You were humming a song to yourself while brewing the coffee. Your back faced me, my nail scratches on your skin red and irritated from last night. I sniffed the air, sensing a comforting whiff of coffee dawdling around. When you heard my footsteps against the creaking floorboards, you turned around.

"I think it's better if I leave," I said with a heavy heart. "We can get a cup of coffee at the cafe."

"Sure." You said without hesitating and blinked at me; your smile never faltering.

As I was headed for the door, you stood in front of me. You grabbed your jacket laying on the ground, where you left it last night, and you handed it to me. I took it, not one bit wavering in my head.

"Keep it. Please."

"Alright."

"Always." You warned me and my answer remained the same.

You moved away from my way and let me be. I opened the door, ready to step out.

But you stopped me in my steps, making me glance back at you. "Hey, Saeyan?" you called out.

"Yeah?"

"Don't let the coffee get cold."

[Lee Saeyan] 30th Apr 2023

I hated this waiting game we played. I longed to see your face, your smile and listen to you talk. I yearned for your presence in my life every day, every passing minute of the day. But you didn't show up. You never did. Two weeks became four, four became eight and eight became sixteen. Sixteen weeks were gone, and I still longed for you. Even though I knew the truth, about you not showing up. It was heart wrenching, I felt myself shatter a million times, into a million of pieces. I missed you a lot.

I would hallucinate sometimes. I would picture you sitting by the window booth, with your laptop, and a hot cup of coffee. The bitter kind. Your usual. I'd smile at you, but you never did. I wondered why. Until I'd wake up to the reality and find that booth empty.

I missed you. I felt angry at myself for ever letting it happen. I should've...

I would check my phone every once in a while, check whether you had texted me and I had forgotten to see it due to work. But, every time I saw the screen of my phone, I was met with disappointment. You didn't text me. You never did. And you never could.

Your ignorance was like a dagger to my heart, and you were twisting it in deeper. Why didn't you...

I recall the morning I last saw you, heard you talk to me, saw you smile, felt your warm skin against mine; the morning I left you a note with my phone number on it. Is it why you're avoiding me? Because of the note?

I only wrote:

"Keep smiling genuinely, Yunho. You've got a great one. I'll see you tomorrow, right and not after two weeks...?"

Are you mad at me because of that?

Where are you, Yunho?

Why haven't you contacted me?

Can't you see I'm driving myself crazy over you?

I love you, for God's sake. Just, come back to me.

But you were never coming back to me, were you? That, the morning you offered me coffee would be the last time I'd ever see you. You knew it. But you didn't tell me. You never let me know. I have only question for you, Yunho. Why?

Regardless.

One day, you'd come to me, I know of it. And till the day you come back to me, I'll keep a cup of coffee by the window booth. Every day I will. And I will vulnerably watch it go cold.

[Jeong Yunho] > 9th Dec 2022

When I wake up in the morning, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Always. Everyday. Every morning. I stare at my broken self, wonder where it all went wrong. Then I realise, the downfall of my life was meagrely a fragment of my imagination. Was it, really? I don't know. But, I was aware I started regressing mentally from today onwards. It came to me in waves, the dysthymia of knowing you're ebbing away from sanity. I kept straying and straying, till I realised I was long gone.

I stood in front of the mirror, tried to force on a smile, tried to make it seem as genuine as I could. Many have fallen for my smile, the feigned one which stretches my lips so easily. They believe me without thinking. They believe I'm genuinely happy. Why wouldn't they? My smile can't be flawed, it can't show my weakness.

Just another peaceful morning, birds chirped by my window, trees swayed to the bubbly morning breeze; I was elated. It lasted for a short while until I grasped onto the reality of my life. Awoken by the morning haze of the sunshine, creeping in through my window: my dreams were left incomplete today too. I took a deep breath, tried on a different shirt, ran my fingers through my hair and brushed it neat—I wasn't ready to face the world, not yet.

I spent my hours reading a book, trying to scour a plot line for my own. I write. I am yet to write, to be fair. Being an author tests your patience. I was patient enough. I jotted down a few points in my notebook regarding the book I'm supposed to work on. I wasn't on clock. I was free to use as much time as I needed to. But I rather get out of this slump as soon as I could.

I left my apartment with keenness; I was apprehended by my fears and deteriorating mental state. It took me a few minutes to reach the bar I usually go to—I needed a drink to help me keep my mind off things I didn't like pondering about. In the cold night, I hugged myself tighter, felt the warmth of my cardigan. I sat in my usual place at the bar. The same bar which is always warm and reeked of booze and tobacco. The bartender made his way to me soon enough. He handed me my usual drink. Whiskey neat.

I was going to wash my concerns away, I was going to forget about everything—about what happened a month ago, about the text I received early in the morning today from my best friend. I liked the way alcohol burnt my throat, I loved how it left a pleasant aftertaste in my mouth, which might or might not helped me in forgetting about my woes.

The bar serves a lot of people, there's always an eerie buzz in here. It annoys me. It infuriates me. Amidst the chaos of senseless chatters, I heard your voice. You were talking aloud, as if you were taking a stand, as if you were... You were sitting a little away from me, a colourful drink in your hand and a raven haired man sitting next to you.

"We can't be together anymore, Hwa." You said, "we don't make sense anymore. We've ran out of time."

"Saeyan, babe, listen to me," your boyfriend, I assumed he was your boyfriend, retorted. "I can work it out, we can work it out. It's not the end for us, is it?"

You stayed in silence, letting it make your point. I heard your name for the first time then; peculiar and quite inveigling. You were breaking up with your so-called boyfriend. But you had no tears in your eyes. Vaguely, you reminded me of her. The woman I was in love with two months back. The woman who chose my best friend over me. The woman who hurt me in every way possible.

There was no use in remembering her. She was long gone, one with the earth, probably in heaven singing with the angels. A month back, late night, I received a call from the cops, about some accident at the freeway. It was her. Crushed to death by a truck colliding into her car. Me and Mingi, her so-called husband, were summoned to the police station. We came to know her last call was made to me.

Mingi blamed me for her death: she was heavily intoxicated by alcohol, and her phone log had been full with attempted calls to me. I blamed myself too. If only had I been sober that night... if only had I answered at least one of her calls...

It's been a month. I still remember her. I can still picture her smiling at me. But, for the moment my eyes landed on you, from across the bar, I forgot about her. It was only you in my eyes. There had to be something to it. Who were you? What were you doing to me?

[Jeong Yunho] > 9th Jan 2023

The curve of my lips was a little different today. It felt indistinct to my intentions, to my eyes—it seemed outlandish. I smiled again, thought it would make a difference. It didn't. I could tell it's feigned. If I can, then so can others. Till now, no one had ever seen any disparity in my smile. No one tried to scrutinise my smile that much to know it was fake.

I wonder if San would catch up on it. I'm supposed to meet him for a drink; talk about the usual things, maybe get wasted by the end of the night, and regret ever going out. San had been my friend for a long time now. He is an author like me. Although, he writes mysteries and thrillers, his works are renowned in town. We've been friends since senior year of college, we had the same major. I can rely on him the most out of anyone I know. He knows some of my darkest secrets, some moments I didn't share with anyone else but him.

I splashed enough water on my face to melt my despair with the coldness. I had no use for warmth. I didn't deserve warmth, or affection. A few drops of water trickled down my face, leaving behind a trail of gelid tremors across my skin. My hair got wet, stuck to my forehead; I was getting tired of it, the trite tuft of black. I should dye it. I really wanted to. I did act up on the blurred thought I got. I opened the cabinet under my sink, found a box dye. Peach. Slightly inclined towards pink. I don't remember seeing or even buying this. When did I buy this?

It didn't take me much time to dye my hair—to pat it dry, to style it the way I preferred; I parted my hair in the middle and let it frame my face. I was tired, oppressed somewhat. Wearily, I got dressed. Threw on a shirt and paired it with loose trousers; I grabbed my jacket off the coat rack and marched out of my apartment, locking it behind me. I skipped one step at a time, eager to meet San, and drink some Chardonnay. I could feel it trickle down my throat, the taste of the white wine.

I met San in the lobby of my apartment complex; he seemed jubilant, as he always does. He offered me a smile, and I reflected back, hoping I was faking it good. He patted my back when he hugged me close to him, the smile on his face never straying off.

"Change of plans Yun." he said, "there's a good cafe nearby our publication. You know the one by the intersection..?"

"What about it?" I asked, as we continued walking out; strolling on the bustling street, past the people. I've heard about it, apparently San really liked to visit it during his break time.

"Let's give it a shot, today. Try something new." He hesitated when he suggested, "I heard the place is warm and cosy. Besides, you need to take a break from drinking too much alcohol."

"So, caffeine is the way to do it?"

San scoffed, "everyone needs a change of pace. I'm not making any promises but I need you off the..."

I knew what he meant. I always looked for a way to consume alcohol, and it would always be whenever I retraced my memories back to all the worst experiences of my life, my childhood, my family. Yoonjung's death, my mom's raging alcoholism, Mingi's conniption—my own inanity of being happy.

Night dawned over our heads, miles and miles of darkness stretched above with a pocket full of stars scattered haphazardly; I found the night sky more inviting than the daylight. Everyone wants to be a sun in someone's life and share their brightness. But I want to be someone's moon—someone who would shine in your darkest moments. Maybe, I was looking for a moon of my own. And I hadn't realised that until I stumbled across you.

San and I had been arguing about a particular issue which I don't seem to recall anymore. I walked in, and he was in my pursuit. I saw you then, standing behind the counter; apparently bored out of your mind. I saw the exhaustion on your beautiful face, I was captivated by your alluring presence. You had lured me into you the moment I laid my eyes on your that day, at the bar, when you were breaking up with someone.

'Saeyan.' That's your name. I heard it that day. You were seeking out an opportunity to connect with me, I could tell by the way you frequented your awkward glances my way. I was sitting by the window booth with San sitting opposite to me, he was busy sipping his decaf, while I thought about drinking my coffee. I didn't like coffee. I never did. Seemingly, coffee is not a proper replacement for alcohol. So, I just watched it go cold, while I composed a little theory about you. About my moon.

[Jeong Yunho] > 23rd Jan 2022

I was pacing back and forth in my living room. Anxiety trickled my skin, my mind was in an overdrive; panic-stricken I bit my tongue, I nicked at the cuticles around my nails. But one habit still stays with me forever: I keep fidgeting with my ring, it adorns my forefinger perfectly. I twisted it, pressed my thumb against the cold metal. The ring was passed onto me by my mother, saying it belonged to her father. I always kept my grandfather's ring on me, it was a memoir.

In the middle of the living room, I stood frozen, staring out the window just opposite the couch. The daylight haze was tempting me to stay inside; warm sunshine cascaded across the floor, along with faded shadows of twigs and branches which stretch peculiarly over the floorboards. Birds were singing along the pulse of people walking down on the street, while I was counting down the minutes until night struck the sky. Nighttime was more peaceful than the daytime, less buzz of people who had something going on in their lives.

Lost in my own fugue state, I failed to hear two knocks sounding loud on my door. When I woke up, I found myself staring at the lifeless tree right outside my window. I wasn't expecting anyone. I never expect anyone to show up at my doorstep. I don't like company. I prefer living alone. The resounding knocks are yet to dither to silence when other two knocks reverberate. Whoever stood on the other side of the door was a little too impatient, a little too eager to meet me. I have no such people in my list, no one wanting to meet me with such anticipation and excitement.

I dragged my feet across the room to open the door, hesitating for whiling seconds when I wrapped my hand over the doorknob. It was someone I least expected to show in front of my door. What was he doing here? I had several questions circulating in my mind, concerned even. But I ushered him inside.

"What brings you here?" I tried to sound a little tender, hoping to swallow my hostility.

He sat on the couch, hands joined, fingers intertwined. The way his back was lurched over, he was disheartened. "Yunho, please, visit her once."

I know what it was about. "What good would it do if I did?" I retaliated, "why should I when it would only bring me pain."

"She wants you to forgive her." Mingi gulped, "it's been too long, forget about the past and the anguish she brought upon you. Just...visit her once. Please."

"You don't understand, Mingi," my voice raised, full of rage and my eyes teary. "She has always been dead to me, Mingi."

I saw the calm in his eyes, an abstruse flake of equanimity studded in his brooding brown eyes. "Yunho, you..."

"No, Mingi. I have nothing to do with her or you." I looked around, rummaging my eyes to spot my laptop. I picked it up, held it close to my chest and glanced back at Mingi. "Yoonjung doesn't exist in my life anymore, neither do you." I sighed, opening the door, ready to step out. "Make sure you lock before you leave."

I only had one destination in my mind. You. I wanted to be where you were, Saeyan. Under the blazing sun, I made my way to you, to your cafe, knowing you'd be there. Of course, you'd be there. You had to be there. I stopped my steps right outside the entrance, took some time to collect my nerves before entering. And when I did, I smiled at you. The fake one. I didn't know if you believed it or not, since I wasn't in the state of mind to fake a smile.

Either way, you smiled back at me. And that frail curve of your lips appeased a part of me. I was no longer thinking about Mingi, or Yoonjung, or the fact that I was thinking of... All seemed bleak the moment I let Mingi in my apartment, but it didn't seem like the end of it—because your calming touch brushed against my fingers. I found it strange regardless, found myself flinching away from you when I needed you the most.

I sat down in the window booth, opened my laptop and started writing. I didn't care for the coffee, or the cupcake I got. Minutes passed, and the cupcake had disappeared, with only a few sips left of my coffee. I called you over for a refill, and I was dazed by your beauty again. I noticed a silver chain around your wrist; little blue butterflies dangled from it. You were lost too, staring at me, trying to unravel me. But you can't unravel me, Saeyan. I'm not easy to read.

You spilled coffee over the table, and I was awoken to the hot sear of the liquid bruising my fingertips. You apologised, but I shrugged it off. It was accidental. Not intentional. However, you were curious to find out what I was doing on my laptop. You pressed me the question, and I answered. We had a small conversation, and then at the end of it, you wished me luck. That's when I knew your voice was my favourite sound.

[Jeong Yunho] > 9th Feb 2023

Another morning, another struggle to get out of bed. But today I didn't struggle at all, I was forced out of bed by one phone call. It was my mother, the raging alcoholic. I remember seeing the time on my alarm clock, it was 8:50 in the morning. The moment I pressed my phone against my ear, I heard her scream. She wanted money. She always did. She always called me when she ran out of money for booze. I transferred enough to her account, enough for her to leave me alone for a few weeks. I even had to make sure she didn't pester my brother, since he's an university student. Jongho was my half brother, but we never let that aspect love us each other any less. Never did.

My past is a mess. I'm fucked up in many ways, Saeyan. Would you like me for who I am? For the past I've lived through. For the imperfections you could discern in me, would you love me for my flaws, Saeyan? I keep wondering about you, making up stories in my mind about us; just the two of us, living together, in some apartment having an ocean view. I may be crazy to picture it all, to imagine my life living with you in a cosy apartment. I rushed out of bed, no point in staying-in since my mind had been weighed down by the early phone call. I made my way to the bathroom, and stared at my reflection in the mirror—the curl of my lips was genuine, I wasn't even trying to smile. It was you, Saeyan. The thought of you, the notions of us living together, brought me sheer peace.

For the rest of the day, I found myself smiling, unconsciously. It would waver on my lips for a counter second before I'd catch myself thinking about you. I thought about you when I wrote, you were starting to be a muse for my character. I thought about you when I made lunch, when I ate it, when I made myself a cup of coffee. I was sitting on my desk, sipping coffee, and drafting the manuscript, when I realised how different this coffee tastes. The one I brewed myself. I had grown accustomed to the taste of your coffee, it was bitter yet sweet in a way. In some way, I can't get any words to describe it.

Sun was climbing down the steep slopes of clouds, disappearing behind the horizon. It painted the sky in its enticing hues; a blend of orange and red, gradually merging with the dense purple of the night. I really wanted to see you, talk to you, maybe. So I got out of my apartment and headed straight to your cafe. You were standing by the preparation counter, with another man accompanying you. At first, I felt a sting of envy strike my heart, weighing it down till I could get a clarity of perspective regarding him.

You two seemed close, I assumed from your body language. At the same time, you were distant enough for me ever conclude you'd be more than friends. He was your coworker, his name tag pinned by his chest over the grunge red apron he wore. 'Wooyoung'. He seemed like a good person regardless. I gave you my order and told I didn't plan on sitting-in today. I didn't want to, not when there was another man in your presence. I might sound toxic, and stupid even, but I couldn't bear the thought of you being anyone else's other than me. I would drink this coffee at my apartment, drafting my manuscript and perfecting it. Just as the other day, we two had a small conversation—I initiated it this time, noticing you had shied away from my touch when I purposely brushed my fingers against your palm while paying for my coffee. I found it odd. You shying away from my touch; was it because of the guy you were accompanied with?

In a minute's time, Wooyoung emerged from behind you, with my go-to cup of coffee, and I took it. I walked out of the cafe, stared up at the dark sky for a hot second, recalling your words from before. You asked me why I didn't want a cupcake today. I gave you a vague answer and hoped you'd believe me. I don't like sweets, I only longed for those cupcakes because they were made by you. Today, I wanted to regress my sweet tooth; there's nothing to celebrate about in my life. The moon was hiding behind a dark sheet of cloud, it provoked my anxiety—an illusory feeling became heavy on my mind. You didn't believe my smiles were genuine, did you?

[Jeong Yunho] > 23rd Feb 2023

I stared at my guitar a minute longer than I should have. It reminds me of my broken past and an era when I was at my lowest. Many situations have tested my nerves, but nothing did as much as the one related to this guitar. Every object has an backstory, every person has a backstory; why wouldn't my guitar have one?

This story dates back to the time when I was in college, attaining to graduate and earn that degree in literature. Although then, I had a knack for singing. I would spend days and nights composing music on this very own guitar, scribble lyrics whenever I had the time to. I mostly wrote about what troubled me—what scared me at times.

The morning started off great with a little excitement but it plummeted to its death when I saw the guitar lying under my bed. I wondered if I could still play it, strum a few strings and sing a little. The only time I sang my heart out was a day before my graduation; the day I felt truly lost in a maze of unknown sadness, the out-of-nowhere anguish of nothing. I was drowning, but hoped someone would throw me a line to help me out. No one did. No one does. No one understands me. No one understood me then too.

I remember it clearly, the sullen moonlight peeking over ambiguous clouds of dust and smoke, a shine cascading across and falling all over my guitar; the night I played a few chords and sung the lines which first popped into my mind. The reason I was troubled, was a certain person—my father. After separating from my mother, my father chose a different life for himself. He was abusive before and after they divorced, he cared very little about me either way it didn't matter to me who got my custody. But for a five year old to witness such a horrible experience, it was unlikely of me to ever be normal.

My father wanted me to work for him, work for his company he built with hard work and booze—no dedication, if the man was ever dedicated to something, it'd be alcohol. I was starting to believe, alcoholism runs in our family. First my dad, then my mom, and now me. I hated my father for all he's done in my past, all the suffering he's given to my mother. He deserves to be alone and treated the same way as he did with me. I could proudly say I have no father.

Reminiscing always gets me in a foul mood, it disperses deep and spreads out in waves over my soul, traps me in a dark labyrinth of scourge. Amidst the chaos and dark, I see a light at the end of it, and it's always you, Saeyan. You're like a North Star to me. I let the morning drag on, spending the time mostly drafting my book and reading. The same doleful night dawned over the window, reminding me of the time I spent with you at the cafe. I walked through the street to get through to you; exhilarated by the thought of seeing your face. Although, I brought my guitar with me, strapped it to my back while leaving my apartment.

Things go as usual, I give you my order, you smile at me and I go sit by the window booth. You brought my order to me, gazing curiously at the guitar I had gotten out of the case. You were observant, eyeing the twee butterfly I had painted below the bridge. I showed off my skills on the guitar, fretted my fingers with the strings to produce a sound. You were lost, listening to it and I gestured you to sit in front of me.

I sang you my song, the one I wrote before the day I graduated—the same one laced with agony and despair. I hadn't realised I had an audience, the couple sitting a few spaces away applauded me when I ended the song. I didn't care about them, all I cared about was you, marvelling at me, moonstruck eyes twinkling with affection.

You hanged back, and spoke certain words to me, "do you ever wonder if it really gets better or do we get used to it?"

"Sometimes it gets better, sometimes it doesn't. So you're compelled to get used to it." I remember saying it to you, but couldn't really convince you otherwise.

You countered with your thoughts, retorted with something about hope. And I smiled, "hope is a bewildering feeling. If you get too used to it, you try seeking it in every situation even when there isn't."

At that time I knew, you were different. Just something about you made me fall in love with you, even deeper and wilder. My heart was trying to compose itself from your voice, when you suddenly uttered my name, frustrated and irked because I was being a pertinacious fool.

I couldn't bear being around you anymore; affected by the way you had enunciated my name in your delicate voice. It shattered a part of me, knowing I won't be here forever to listen to you say my name. I wish I could. I really do. When I walked out, with the guitar on my back, I suddenly realised: I let the coffee get cold again.

[Jeong Yunho] > 9th Mar 2023

"If you really like this girl so much, you gotta make a move before it gets too late," San chirped, sitting next to me on the couch. "She's not going to wait for you to make a move."

I took a sip of my beer, "I really want to. I want to tell her how I feel about her, but it's..." sighing, I gulped down the entire bottle before turning to him, "I'm scared, a little nervous and a coward to express how I feel about her. The fear of rejection never leaves me alone."

"You don't have to make any grand gestures. Little things can go a long way." San suggests, taking a sip of beer from his bottle, "be a gentleman, and I know you are, but show it to her. She's a lady, walk her home, give her a hand at the cafe, help her and try to understand what she needs."

"Walk her home?" I mused, eyes straining to catch the time reading on the clock. Mere minutes before you closed the cafe and made your way home. I needed to get my move on if I wanted to walk you home.

I got up from the couch, ran a hand through my hair to fix it, and chewed on him to get rid of the stench of beer I drank. I rushed out of the apartment, leaving San behind to fend for himself. I heard a few curses leave his mouth from behind when I closed the door.

I was in time. Fortunately. I had ten minutes to spare, so I spend them while standing outside the cafe, tapping my feet and glancing at my watch every now and then. The frequent glimpses of you through the glass windows caused my heart to burst into flames. And then, you walked out, with Wooyoung in your pursuit. You stayed back to lock the doors, while Wooyoung marched on his way.

He stopped a step short to me, offering me a delicate smile, he greeted. "Oh, have a great night."

He continued with his walk, disappearing around the corner. In ticking seconds, under the haze of moonlight, I felt myself drawn towards to you. I was nervous. Anxious of what to say and what not to. I had to choose my words carefully. But mustering some courage from my heart, I spelled out the words wrecking havoc in my mind.

"Can I walk you home?"

And we were on our way after. You were shy, timid to talk about yourself or to even initiate a conversation. So I broke the ice and soon, I learnt a thing or two about you. It was an awakening revelation to know you lived close by me, meagrely a block away from my apartment. All this while, we were so close to each other, yet so far. I wanted to confess right there and then, albeit, I knew so little about you. Thinking, we talked vaguely, searching basic questions and answering them honestly. There were times where you lied to me; those were trivial questions however, and I didn't care.

"I never learnt your name..." I trailed off, whispering my words into the dead of the night and wondering if you'd believe me. I knew your name, Saeyan. I heard it the day I first saw you at the bar breaking up with your boyfriend.

"Lee Saeyan." You were holding your blush in, trying to avoid getting flustered in front of me. I held back every urge to cup your face and bring it close to me so that I could kiss you wholeheartedly.

I told you I found your name unique, told you how I resonate your name with the moon because of its meaning. You were confused, bewildered listening to my explanation; but then I had to make it clear to you, why you were so significant to me and why your name was beautifully meant for me to call out. Silence took over soon, but I gushed in my mind, replaying the sound of your soft giggles and the way you uttered your own name, the picture of you blushing had already burnt in the back of my mind.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" I ask regardless knowing you had broken up.

"No." there was more to it, the way you eyes turned away from me, the way your lips moved under the moonlight—you were hiding something.

But I hadn't forgotten about your response. It gave me hope. Only, I really hoped it wasn't the false one.

[Jeong Yunho] > 23rd Mar 2023

It was that day of the year. My birthday. I don't find any excitement in celebrating my birthday; and before you say "he's a wannabe who wants to stand out from the crowd" I'll tell you why I don't like my birthday. This deeply rooted resentment towards me, and everything tied to me, started when I turned eighteen. It was a phase where I was supposed to go through metamorphosis and conquer the world like an adult. I absolutely despised being an adult—people had expectations from me, they wanted me to become one of them. And when you've grown up with a really shitty father and a credulous mother, you don't know what is right and what is wrong. I was messed up in my own ways; mostly in my head, hearing voices echo all the time.

The morning of my birthday was benign. Like any other day, the sun rose up against the clouds to shed its shine to the once darkened world; the sky allured with shades of blue and orange, hues blending perfectly to concoct an illusion of perfection. I woke up to heavenly scent of food, and a few minutes later, I heard it sizzle. I was deep in my sleep, snuggling with the blankets till I comprehensively opened my eyes to the world and jumped out of bed. In the kitchen, I saw his silhouette, his back faced me, and the sound of humming filled my ears.

"Good morning," I groggily greeted him, walking into the kitchen. "You really didn't have to do all this."

"It's our tradition, how can I let it die?" he replied with a gushing laugh, turning to look at me. "Happy birthday, brother."

Half-brother. I thought. "San and the others are meeting for drinks later tonight, you can join us if you'd like to."

"Sure," Jongho replied, "someone needs to take care of your drunk ass; you get quite foolish when you're inebriated."

"I guess that runs in the family," I laughed it off, "I'll freshen up quickly so we can have breakfast together."

We ate breakfast together, engaged in a small talk; it was mostly me asking him about his studies and the university, rarely about mother's health. He visits her whenever he gets time from university. He even carries my apartment's spare key with him, he's welcomed anytime here. We talked for a little while more, when he decided to leave. Regardless, while leaving, he said he'd come by at night to have drinks with me and the others.

I let the day drag on after he left, feeling a little lonely, and consumed by despair. I played a little game: whenever I felt depressed, I swallowed down a bottle of beer, preferably any kind of alcohol. It was alcoholism. I really need to get a grip on my life. But the thought itself was far-fetched because I'm long gone from reality.

Sometimes, the moonlight alludes you to engage yourself in your darkest desires—my darkest impulse is to drink till I couldn't anymore. I pictured myself lifeless, free from every responsibility; I am tempted to, tempted by the devil on my shoulder, who only curses my demise in my ear. Drinks after drinks, I was starting to wonder what I was doing with my life. We were all gathered at the same bar I witnessed you breaking up with your boyfriend. The same bar I frequented every alternate day because I was addicted.

"My man's got a huge crush on her," San laughed, passing on the comment to Hongjoong and Jongho who were laughing along with him. "Seriously! He hates coffee and sweets yet goes there every two weeks to meet her."

"And he's celebrating his birthday here?" Hongjoong smacked my arm, "buddy, you need to be there, with her."

"I don't know," I mumbled, reading their faces glazed with anticipation. "Come on, guys. I really think that's a bad idea."

"Spending your day with someone you love doesn't make it a bad idea; neither are you too selfish for having that thought," Hongjoong explained, "we won't take it personal, just say the word and we'll take you there."

"Seemingly, I wouldn't want to waste this chance on meeting the woman who has made my brother fall in love with." Jongho remarked, putting his shot glass down and letting it clink loudly with the table. "What are we waiting for then, let's go!"

It was almost the time for you to close the cafe when we arrived; little dimly lit, and scent of coffee remnant in air. We sat by the window booth. You took our orders, realised I was drunk. I wasn't really drunk, I was a little tipsy and just like that, I couldn't grasp onto my understanding too well. I deemed myself lucky for not acting out and doing anything that would embarrass me in your eyes.

This was the first time you were meeting my friends; Hongjoong and San introduced themselves, but Jongho held back. I had a feeling why he did, but I couldn't justify it. I introduced him to you and felt a pang of bitterness burning my heart when I said he was my half-brother. Jongho would glee with joy when he'd have to introduce himself as my half-brother to others; but ironically, I was just as ashamed to utter the word out with scorn.

I really despised celebrating my birthday: it reminded me of my struggle growing up around a failed marriage between my mum and dad. Every time on my birthday, I would have this severe urge to disappear. But you, you made me want to stay and watch the night unravel an enigma of mine. The little gesture of yours, a small cupcake with the tiniest of candle on top of it—you made my birthday a little less shitty.

Blowing out the candle, I wished, I made a wish for your well-being. My wishes have always been yours to keep; they're always about you. I wish I could wait a little longer. But I have to go. I drowned out the noises, stared at the cupcake, reimagined my life with and without you. I was close to crying, and I didn't mind shedding a few tears for you. Too dazed to figure my way out of my trance, I let it deluge me in deeper; lost again, the light at the end seemed bleak. You were dithering from me, away from my hold, away from my touch.

The coffee I ordered had gone cold.

[Jeong Yunho] > 9th Apr 2023

"A little getaway?" Hongjoong repeats my words, shaking his head in disbelief.

I pouted a little and whispered my words, "I want to take her by the hand and drag her someplace quiet."

"You've come to me for advice?" he laughed; it was sarcastic.

I was at work today. Quite unlike me, I guess. But I had a reason to be here today; I came to turn in my manuscript for the book I had been working on. I stayed back for a bit since I wasn't in a hurry to be at home. Not that I had a choice to go back, cause Hongjoong wanted to "talk" to me. We were discussing a minute detail of my life, purportedly, about you. Lee Saeyan, you were taking up every fraction of my mind.

I leant back in the chair and skeptically casted my eyes over him for a short second. "I know, you're the least romantically inclined person. But San's not here and I need someone's advice."

"The fact, being your second choice already makes me feel great." He rolled his eyes, and heaved out a sigh, "quiet you said? I know a place."

My ears perked at his words, and I lurched forward over the table separating us two. "Nothing too cynical right?"

"Oh yeah, I was thinking about the woods and how quiet it is at night; maybe take her there and confirm yourself to be a serial killer," he deadpanned. "No idiot! It's the place right across. The city park. You've got your way sneaking inside. Take her to the lake and since it's a cloudless night, you can gaze at the stars."

"Not bad. Pretty amazing for a suggestion coming from you." I joked and he glared at me. "Alright alright, I'll take her there."

"And make sure you don't do anything stupid; you've got the reputation of ruining good things." It came out wrong from his mouth, the words—every syllable brought back immensely painful memories from past.

I held back, and offered him a dainty smile, "I know, but I'm way past that. I won't ruin what I have with her."

I really hoped I didn't. Hongjoong and mine interaction compelled me to think about you; think about ways wherein I don't come off too strong with my confession or my feelings. When I was walking to your cafe, when I opened the door, I believed I could never ruin my chance with you. So, I took a deep breath, trudged behind the counter and grabbed your hand.

You were taken off guard but were so willing to follow me. You didn't resist, you didn't pull your hand away from mine; I liked the way it fit so perfectly in mine. Our hands were warm and snug, an embrace lighting up several shivers on my spine. I took you to the park, to the lake, walking on the yellow bricked promenade along the trees of nothing and dark.

Hongjoong was right, the lake was insanely romantic at night; the shuddering ripples of falling leaves on the surface of water, the stretched-out silhouettes of trees, and the glimmering scatter of stars reflecting inside. A heaven. But you were my paradise, your eyes shining with the stars, holding them in their brown terrain—moonlight kissed your lips first, before I could have my chance. You were breathtakingly gorgeous.

"The moon's beautiful, isn't it?" I never meant to imply it to be a question.

You replied nonetheless, "it is."

Your voice soft and delicate, enrapturing my senses and soul. I didn't want to say wrong things, so I hesitated and my mind glitched. I asked something so stupid, something Hongjoong had already warned me about.

"Can we be friends?"

Can't believe these words came out of my mouth. I could hear your heart breaking in your chest, and I could feel myself falling down a void of displeasure. You didn't want to hear it, did you? Because you were already thinking of us to be something more than friends.

"Sure. Why not. I thought we were friends already."

We are. We are friends. But I want to be more than friends with you. If you could only listen to my heart, hear its plea and forget what I said.

I had to play it out, but I kept saying stupefyingly insane words which would only drift us apart. Eventually, I got the courage somehow; I turned to you and cupped your face in my hands. My palms laid soft on your cheeks, fingers caressing the hair framing them. Leaning in closer every second, I felt my breath hitch. I kissed you without hesitation, the rationality out of the window for the time being. I kissed you passionately and it ignited something in me when you kissed me back.

I wanted this kiss to escalate, but you pulled away to rest your forehead on mine. You stared into my eyes, while I kept caressing your face.

"Friends never kiss each other like this."

You were right. Do you understand my yearning now?

"What do you want Saeyan?"

"I don't want the coffee to go cold."

I chuckled softly, feeling my heart palpitate with an eldritch desire, an impulse taking over my conscience. I smiled at you, genuinely. I leaned in again to kiss you and kept it short this time. Because there was something I needed to say, something troubling my mind.

"What if I say I don't like coffee and only drink it because I get to see you?"

You laughed, nudging the tip of your nose with mine. "I'd still say I wouldn't want the coffee to go cold."

"Do you like me, Yunho?" You asked.

I felt lightheaded. "More than you know. I've fallen in deep; you should know."

"I think me too." You whispered and kissed me again. We kept kissing, as if our lips weren't sated yet, wanting every minute to taste them. "You're a mystery. I find you so odd, and different. Our relationship would be soul-searching."

"Then I guess there's no harm in giving us a chance."

Sadly, that was the beginning of our end.

[Jeong Yunho] > 10th Apr 2023

After you left, I was sipping on the coffee I had brewed for you. I don't understand why you left so abruptly, but you must have your reason. Agreed, it wouldn't have been ideal for you stay back for coffee or even breakfast, considering we hadn't yet defined our relationship. I thought we had. I thought we had taken over the tags of boyfriend and girlfriend, but it wasn't clear from your side.

I didn't feel disappointed. Not at all. Because the night I spent with you, was truly magical to a point where I believed nothing could break us apart. Being intimate isn't just sex; I think we were rather intimate in the morning when you questioned the darkest parts of me. You see through me so easily, Saeyan. As more days would pass, I would unravel all of me to you, let you see my scars and heal them, only if you want to. I don't want you to think it's your responsibility to fix me just because I'm broken, and you have the ability to help me. I can't pin that responsibility on you. Getting better at life, mentally and emotionally, is my job. It's my responsibility to give into sanity and not stray away from it.

I was happily sitting on the couch, phone in hand, shirtless, contemplating calling San and telling him all the details. I had to bite back on that urge when I saw Jongho's call coming through.

"Hello little bro—"

My cheery voice died quick when I heard his panicked one, "—Yunho, mom...mom—she's—she's...she's hospitalised. Liver failure...just, just come."

And that call shattered my heart forever.

Jeong Yunho > 13th Apr 2023

I found your note the other day. It was wedged in between the rough draft of my book; I read it over countless times, until I realised what you meant by it. It made me think. It made me laugh. The life I was living, it wasn't for me. It was all for others, trying to please others.

I never earned for myself. I never wrote for myself. I never smiled for myself. I never... I never wanted a literature degree. I never want a broken life. I never wanted my parents to separate. I never wanted this life.

What was I living for? I wasn't living for myself. It struck me in different ways, how vulnerable I was to please others than myself. My priorities were others, not myself. The thought of disappearing forever was a force of habit, and this time, it had taken all over my body. Who would even care if I was gone? Quite frankly, everyone would. Because they depend on me. You do too, Saeyan. You depend on me to make your life better, but in reality, you're depending on a person who needs to sort his first.

I should've been more upfront with you, should've told you my reasons to end it this way. I feel so helpless all the time, and it gets worse every time I see your face, Saeyan. Cause I'm just another failure in your eyes. We could've worked things out between us, for the better. Sorry Saeyan, I have to go. But promise me, you'll look up at the moon every night and make a wish. I won't force you to think about me, think about crucial things, think about people important to you.

Everything came to me in the form of waves, and those waves climbed higher and higher up my soul till my mind was plagued. I laid in the bathtub, filled to the brim with water; crimson slashes along my arms, and a lifeless plea stuck in my throat. "Goodbye."

There's a piping hot mug of coffee on the table and it's gone cold.

Lee Saeyan 4th June 2023

San asked me out for a cup of coffee today. All while till I got to the coffee shop, I wondered what it was about. It's been a few weeks since I sold my coffee shop; if there's anything I'd want to do is to forget all about you, Yunho. So, I abandoned the only place where we kept our cherishing memoirs.

Do I feel bad about it? Maybe. But the sting in my eyes is better than the pang in my heart; it's easy to give up on memories, but holding onto them is delusion of grandeur.

A few days after I got the news of you...after knowing you had left me alone forever, I made myself believed it was all a joke, that you were playing with my mind, wanting to know how much I loved you. The reality broke me in so many ways when I watched your casket buried six feet under. I couldn't believe it; you were gone.

When I got to the cafe, a minimalistic one, only one street down from my own, I found San sitting by a window booth. His weakened smile pained me, it hid many emotions; and he kept his broken smile all the time we talked.

He handed me a book wrapped in a coffee-stained paper. I looked at it inquisitively and pondered what it was. Of course it was a book, but what was the point of it?

Eagerly, however, neatly, I unwrapped the paper. A breath hitched in my throat when I saw it was your book. Your name printed on top in such an elegant font, and a little below was the title of your book; cold coffee. You changed it, didn't you? You named the book after our odd-struck nuances. We always let the coffee go cold.

It's gone cold too now. Staring at the cup of coffee in front of me, San began with his broken voice, "he left it for you."

"A sole copy," he continued, "he made only one copy and wanted you to have it. I didn't read it, well I couldn't—'cause it's his love letter to you."

I felt my throat suffocate me. "Thank you." I squeaked out somehow.

"Hey, if you need anyone to talk to—" I shook my head, interrupting him, "I'm good, San. How are you?"

"Everything's okay. Got a new thriller project to work on." He said, his lips kept moving but all I kept thinking about you, Yunho.

We had a short conversation before I excused myself. I got to my apartment, alone again because Wooyoung moved out last week. He's seeking help for his insomnia apparently. When I sat down on the couch, with your book in my hand, I let out a sob.

On the first page of your book, you wrote, "don't let the coffee go cold, Saeyan."