Chapter Text
“Don’t look now.”
Bells chimed, and muffled sounds of traffic enhanced as soft-thudded footsteps approached them. Even with the heater only turned on to the minimum setting, the blast of wintery air that pelted through the cafe elicited shivers as it hit the back of Hanbin’s bare neck, tickling down his spine. Hanbin looked up.
“I said, don’t look,” Matthew grumbled, elbowing him slightly this time, but it was too late anyway.
Walking through the door to the cafe was Zhang Hao, wearing a thick, chiffon pink puffer jacket with a snug white beanie pulled over his head. His cherry wood-colored hair was dotted with melting flakes of snow, and as he entered the building, using his phone as a mirror, Zhang Hao pulled off his gloves to start brushing them off.
Hanbin inhaled sharply through his nose. Matthew watched as he walked forward toward the register.
“Welcome in,” Hanbin said, plastering a smile on his face. His sudden greeting startled Zhang Hao into nearly dropping his gloves. Hao’s eyes widened the second he recognized him. Hanbin could feel Matthew’s eyes on the back of his neck, surveying the two of them intently.
“Oh,” Zhang Hao said. “Hi.” He tipped his head and mustered up a polite smile too.
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“Alright. Thank you.”
As Zhang Hao studied the menu and paced through the displays of bread and pastries, Hanbin returned to the back of the cafe, where he and Matthew had been quietly doing their homework.
“What’s he doing here?” Matthew muttered, and Hanbin shushed him, worried that Zhang Hao could hear. Luckily, Hao didn’t seem to notice. He looked to be occupied with his phone near the display case of cakes and macarons in the front.
It wasn’t a big deal, and even if it was, Hanbin was convinced that it shouldn’t be, but with the way everyone around him was acting about it, Zhang Hao might as well have murdered his puppy.
There wasn’t a whole lot that he knew about Zhang Hao. Hanbin wasn’t sure that he had ever had a full conversation with him. Zhang Hao had transferred to the university only last semester as an international student from China, and Hanbin still remembered the exact moment it happened because the campus went absolutely crazy over him. He was a violin major, and, apparently, a genius one too who had placed first in his province on the college entrance exam and had gone viral countless times online for his performances.
But if being a highly intelligent, strikingly handsome classical musician wasn’t enough, Zhang Hao was also a dancer—and a K-pop fan too. One of the first things he did after transferring was join one of their campus’s many K-pop dance cover teams. That was a moment that Hanbin remembered vividly as well. Everyone had been expecting Zhang Hao to join KStars, the school’s top recreational dance team, Hanbin’s dance team, but instead of auditioning with them, Zhang Hao chose to join Global Assemble, a smaller dance team that some of his friends were on instead.
Hanbin hadn’t thought about it twice until his team had to face Hao’s at the national university dance cover competition that fall. Like Hanbin, Zhang Hao was the center of his dance team that season, and Hanbin found that his eyes wouldn’t leave him the entire time he was on stage. His technique may not have been as polished as someone who had been dancing for years, but from the way he moved to the expressions he threw, everything about him as a performer was simply enthralling.
And the third moment that Hanbin still remembered—in a huge upset that the whole school wouldn’t stop talking about for weeks until they were finally released for winter break—was when KStars had lost, and Global Assemble was on stage, delivering their trophy to their leader Keita, who had passed it to Zhang Hao to deliver their victory speech.
So naturally, everyone started assuming that rookie newcomer Zhang Hao was now long-reigning champion Sung Hanbin’s sworn enemy. That was just ridiculous of course. Hanbin knew his peers at school were just bored and hungry for drama. He sure didn’t see Zhang Hao as his sworn enemy, and he was sure Zhang Hao didn’t see him as some sort of mid-tier boss villain he had to defeat on his journey to achieve peak human perfection either.
…Probably.
“Um, excuse me.” A voice suddenly cut through his thoughts, and Hanbin snapped his attention back toward the front of the cafe where Zhang Hao was standing, raising his hand slightly as if he were in class. Hao pointed to the pastries display case. “I’m ready to order.”
“Of course,” Hanbin said, walking back towards the register. “What would you like today?”
Two egg tarts, a strawberry parfait, a box of macarons, and a hot caramel macchiato. Bagged for to-go. He could feel Zhang Hao’s eyes on him as he boxed his treats, tying it up prettily with a bow before going to whip up his coffee.
“Caramel macchiato,” Hanbin announced, handing it to Hao. “Have a nice day,” he smiled.
“Thank you,” Zhang Hao replied, though not quite making eye contact. His fingers were cold as they brushed by Hanbin’s during the handoff. Hanbin realized that this might’ve been the closest he’d ever stood by Zhang Hao when he noticed the mole under his eye. Zhang Hao’s face was very pretty up close. “You have a nice day too.”
“Come again soon.”
Another blast of cold air coursed through the cafe. Bells chimed, and as he cleaned the counter, furtively watching Zhang Hao disappear out of sight from the store windows from the corner of his eye, Hanbin let out a sigh.
“That was awkward,” Matthew commented. From his seat in the back behind the screen of his laptop, Matthew had also been watching Zhang Hao leave.
“It was, wasn’t it?” Hanbin sighed again as he went to join him. “Good, I was wondering if I was just making things up in my head.”
“Hyung, that’s why I told you not to look,” Matthew pointed, and Hanbin rolled his eyes. “I could’ve gotten his order for you. Have you ever even spoken to him before?”
“I don’t think so. I think we exchanged a few words at a competition once, but that was it.” Hanbin crossed his arms as he leaned forward, lowering his voice, though they were the only ones in the cafe. “He’s in my music history class this semester—did I tell you that already?”
“Really?”
Hanbin nodded, shuddering slightly. “It was uncomfortable. The professor pointed it out on the first day too. He told us we better not start fighting each other in his class.”
Matthew chuckled, and the tension suddenly lightened. “Nah, I don’t think Zhang Hao is that kind of guy,” he said. “Does he know that this is your mom’s cafe?”
That thought made Hanbin pause for a moment. “Do you think he knows? I doubt it. He looked surprised to see me, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in here before.” He turned his head, looking back towards the pastry case where Zhang Hao had stood just a moment before. “He bought a lot of things…”
“What? Are you hoping he comes back?” Matthew grinned.
“I’m just saying that he bought a lot of things,” Hanbin said, and as Matthew returned to writing his report, Hanbin thought to himself silently. He hoped that his presence there didn’t end up driving Zhang Hao permanently away from the cafe.
Night had fallen by the time they had finished their work, and Hanbin closed up shortly after Matthew left to go home. Zhang Hao was their first and last customer that day.
“Well, this is awkward.” The student working part-time at the campus gym’s help desk grimaced as she looked from her computer screen to Hanbin… and then to Zhang Hao. “It seems like there might have been a system error.”
“System… error…?” Zhang Hao echoed, and the girl at the desk nodded.
“Like, a mistake,” Hanbin explained. “The computer made some sort of mistake.”
“Ah,” Zhang Hao nodded, and the look of confusion lifted from his face. With how flawless Zhang Hao appeared to be at everything, it was easy to forget that Korean was still his second (or maybe third) language.
“The dance studio appears to be double-booked,” the girl said meekly. “You both have it booked during this time.”
“Are there any other time slots open?” Hanbin asked.
The girl shook her head. “The studio’s been completely booked up since before the semester started.”
“It’s been completely full? What are we supposed to do then?” Zhang Hao asked
“You could alternate?” The girl suggested. “You could trade off on who gets to use it each week. Or maybe split the time up…? I’m terribly sorry…”
“Is there anywhere else where we could practice?” Hanbin asked.
“You could try booking a studio at a private gym off-campus,” the girl suggested.
“Does it cost money?”
“It can be quite expensive...”
And expenses were something he definitely didn’t have to spare, and by the looks of it, Zhang Hao didn’t look all too pleased by this news either.
“Well, thank you for your help,” Hanbin said, still offering her a polite smile. “Come on,” he muttered, lightly touching him on the arm as he beckoned Zhang Hao to leave.
“Now what?” Zhang Hao asked, and truthfully, Hanbin didn’t know either. This was shaping up to be the start of some semester: first, his family’s cafe was struggling to attract customers, and now he finds out that his dance team might not even have a place to practice.
“We could divide up the studio,” Hanbin suggested. “Half and half. KStars can take one side, and your team can take the other.”
It wasn’t much of a solution, but they didn’t have many other options. It was pretty crowded in the dance studio, and his teammates didn’t seem psyched at the idea of sharing a practice space with Global Assemble—no doubt the loss from last year’s competition still hung on their minds.
It was loud, it was chaotic, and it was hard to hear their own counts and music over Global Assemble’s, but on the bright side (if there were any), Hanbin might’ve been imagining it, but there seemed to be a hunger to improve and a sort of desperation to do well among his teammates that hadn’t been there last year. Perhaps having their direct rivals only meters away from them did have its perks, and during water breaks, even Hanbin found his eyes quickly wandering over in curiosity. Global Assemble was very good, no doubt, and Zhang Hao, for someone with no professional dance experience, was incredible. He had a sort of magnetism about him, a way of drawing people in, like a siren…
“Hey, hyung.” Gunwook plopped down on the spot next to him. “Scouting the competition?” he asked, as he followed Hanbin’s gaze.
For some reason, Hanbin felt his face suddenly get warm. “What are you talking about?” he denied, turning away, but he felt his face warm even further as from the corner of his eye, in the reflection of the mirror, he caught sight of the way Zhang Hao’s shirt would flick upwards just enough to show off a bare strip of his waist when he raised his arms. “The only thing we should be focusing on are ourselves.”
“We’re going to beat them this year,” Gunwook said, staring intently in Global Assemble’s direction. “We’re going to do it. I know it.”
“That’s the kind of attitude I want to see,” Hanbin chuckled, and Gunwook grinned as Hanbin patted his arm. Shortly after, they returned to practice, and as Hanbin danced, he thought of Zhang Hao, who was only a few meters away from him, who danced with such refinement despite having only been learning for a few years, and it made him want to push himself even further.
The two teams ended practice at the same time when the next group came in to kick them out. After they had showered and changed, Gunwook waved to him as he and the rest of the KStars team set off for the kimchi stew place that had become tradition for them to go after their Sunday night practice, and Hanbin parted from them, returning back to the cafe.
It was about two hours later when Zhang Hao showed up.
“Welcome… Oh, hi, again.” Hanbin looked up from his phone by the counter in surprise.
“You’re still open,” Zhang Hao remarked, eyes as round as boba pearls. He looked to have just showered too; his hair was fluffier than usual with a few pieces sticking in different directions in the back. A black backpack was swung over his white coat, and in his hand was a violin case.
“Yes, we open late,” Hanbin said, giving him his customer service smile. The longer the hours they were open, the more potential customers there were to serve… in theory. It was worth a shot since it wasn’t like business had been great in the past few months during their normal hours anyway. It’s not like they were losing any money this way either, since Hanbin wasn’t being paid.
“Do you always work this late?” Zhang Hao asked.
“Yes—well, recently, anyways. We don’t have any part-timers at the moment,” Hanbin said, feeling as his smile became a bit strained. “Do you know what you’d like to order?”
Hao opened his mouth. For a second, it looked as if he wanted to say something before he changed his mind, closing it again and biting his lip. His lips were really pretty. “Give me one minute, please.”
An iced pandan latte and a red bean bun. It was a little odd to Hanbin that he was ordering caffeine so late in the evening—and an iced one too, in the middle of winter—but he didn’t say anything as he got to work on Hao’s order.
“Come back soon. Please enjoy.” Hanbin smiled, as he handed Hao his drink. Once again, his fingers were cold as Hanbin brushed against them.
Zhang Hao thanked him and left the cafe with his order, leaving Hanbin alone in its stillness.
It was becoming apparent that working longer hours wasn’t necessarily the solution, because despite being just down the block from a college campus full of twenty-something year-old night owls, the cafe didn’t seem to be seeing much more traffic at all.
“People probably don’t realize you’re still open at those hours,” Jiwoong pointed. It was an unusually warm day, and he and Hanbin were enjoying lunch together under the barely-there shade of a large, bare tree. Before he had gotten busy with his graduate program, Jiwoong had been a part-timer who worked at the cafe, but as their lease for the cafe rose, his family never managed to scavenge enough money to hire a replacement. “And the people who are just leaving their houses past 9 pm probably aren’t the ones looking for coffee shops to study or work at. People who stay out studying generally head out earlier in the evening, and they probably end up walking right past the cafe without a second glance when they realize that you’re closed at that hour.”
“That’s what I was worried about,” Hanbin frowned. He picked at the seaweed wrapper on his kimbap, which remained otherwise untouched in his lap in front of him. “But my parents already wake up so early just to start work... I want to help out more, especially now that they’re getting older, but I can’t just skip class.”
“What time does your class end?” Jiwoong asked.
“Around 4 or 5 on most days…” Hanbin felt a pit sink into his stomach. “But afterwards, I have dance practice…”
“For homework?”
”No… for KStars…”
“Ah, right…”
Neither of them said anything for a moment as students shuffled around them on their way to class. All of a sudden, music started playing from the clearing only a few paces away from them. Hanbin whipped his head around, and right before the crowd was able to block them entirely out of his view, he saw Global Assemble and Zhang Hao… starting a performance in the middle of the field.
“Is that…?”
“Global Assemble,” Hanbin said. “Yeah.”
“Oh,” Jiwoong said. Then, after a beat, “They’re the group from that national competition last year, right?”
Hanbin withheld from answering for as long as he could. “Yeah.” The one that beat them, yeah.
Neither of them could really see anything from the spot where they were sitting, but Jiwoong’s eyes were glued in the direction of the dance team anyway. Hanbin continued to pick at his kimbap. They could hear the shouts and cheers from the crowd and the sound of synchronized feet hitting the golden grass as the group danced.
“I heard there’s that one guy in the group who’s really good,” Jiwoong said. He turned to Hanbin. “The Chinese one. Zhang… Zhang Hao?”
“He is good,” Hanbin concurred as Global Assemble finished their performance. The crowd cheered and then came Zhang Hao’s voice speaking over them.
“Hi everyone, we’re Global Assemble, we’re one of the university’s K-pop dance cover teams.” Zhang Hao was saying, managing a steady voice, even though Hanbin knew he must have been struggling for breath from such an intense choreography. “We’re trying to raise money to rent a dance studio for practice and to get stage outfits for competitions that we’ll be representing our school at this year. If you’re able to, please consider making a small donation to us.”
A loud murmur formed amongst the crowd, and naturally, that was when people started guiltily edging away, but a surprisingly hefty number of them stayed, either pulling out wallets for cash or their phones to transfer their donations electronically. Next to him, Jiwoong raised his eyebrows.
“That’s him, isn’t it? He’s pretty smart, Zhang Hao,” Jiwong mused, sounding impressed. “He knows how to attract a crowd, that’s for sure.”
Hanbin didn’t say anything at all.
“Hi, welcome back.”
“Hello.”
The nights in Seoul were still chilly even as the temperature was starting to warm up during the day. Zhang Hao adjusted the gray scarf around his neck, loosening it up slightly as he entered the cafe. He placed his violin down on a chair near the front.
“Let me know when you’re ready to order,” Hanbin said with a smile, before heading back into the kitchen to finish sorting through their inventory. A lot of their ingredients had expired… He knew it would break his mother’s heart, but maybe it was time he suggested they start making cuts to their menus to save money on inventory for the less popular items that were barely selling…
“Are you ready?” Hanbin returned when he noticed Hao hanging out, standing there quietly by the register with a tray of bread placed in front of him. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“Can I also get a dalgona coffee? Iced, please.”
“Of course.” Hanbin nodded as he rang up the rest of Zhang Hao’s items. Zhang Hao had become a bit of a regular, stopping by at least 3-4 times a week in the evening for a caffeinated beverage at the very least (again, a little concerning, but Hanbin was really just considering himself lucky to even have one customer on some nights). It had been a while since he—or anyone, for that matter—had bought that many baked goods, though. “Dalgona coffee,” Hanbin announced, smiling politely as he handed it off to Zhang Hao. “Enjoy.”
“Thanks,” Zhang Hao muttered. Cold fingertips brushed Hanbin’s as Hao reached out for it. This time, however, Zhang Hao didn’t turn away.
“You weren’t at dance practice today.”
Hanbin looked up from where he was reviewing Hao’s receipt to make sure he hadn’t accidentally missed anything. Zhang Hao was still standing there before the counter, with his coffee in one hand and his bag of bread in another, frowning at him.
“Sorry?” Hanbin asked.
“I didn’t see you at dance practice,” Zhang Hao repeated. His brows were slightly knit. It was almost as if he were a bit upset.
“Ah.” Hanbin set down Hao’s receipt. “Yeah, I didn’t go.”
“Why not?”
Hanbin’s brows flicked upwards, but Zhang Hao continued, completely unfazed.
“I didn’t see you there last week either. Are you not dancing anymore?” Hao frowned.
“I’m still dancing,” Hanbin said coolly. “I’m a dance major, and I’m not quitting that any time soon.”
“But you’re leaving KStars?”
Hanbin swallowed the sharpness in his throat, but the discomfort didn’t go away. “I’m not leaving,” he said, feeling his stomach churn. “I didn’t quit. I just haven’t been able to participate as much because I’ve had to pick up more shifts around here recently.”
Zhang Hao’s eyebrows raised as his eyes widened, and then they softened. “Oh,” he said, breaking eye contact to stare at his dalgona coffee instead. “Then what about the summer regionals? Or the school festival?” Hao suddenly inquired, turning back to Hanbin as he sipped his coffee. “You’re still going to be participating in those right?”
He tried not to pause before answering. “KStars is still participating. We’ve already been putting a set list together, so you can expect my crew to be at both of those events.” To lighten the mood, he smirked gently at Hao, “So you can look forward to it. We’re not out of the competition yet—”
“But what about you?” Hao blurted, and Hanbin felt his shoulders tense. “Obviously, I know your crew’s going to be there. We practice every day in the same studio. But… you’re going to be there too, right?”
He didn’t know how to feel—if he should be feeling angry at Zhang Hao for his frankness and for nosing his way into his business or flattered that his absence had been noticed. It was as if the whirlwind of emotions that had been suppressed under all the burnout and tiredness that had been piling on him since the start of the semester was starting to free itself. He didn’t know if he should feel frustrated or sorry or spiteful to his teammates for having to dance and compete without him. There were too many directions he was being pulled in, too much that he wanted to do, that he had to do.
And yet, he was failing at all of it.
He wasn’t saving his family’s business. He was leaving his teammates when they were counting on him.
Without a succinct expression to plaster on his face, Hanbin turned around, walking away back towards the kitchen so that he didn’t have to meet Zhang Hao’s round eyes, and so that he didn’t have to disappoint one more person than he already had.
“I don’t know.”
“Hyung! Did you see?” The human incarnate of sunshine was bounding down the hallway towards him, waving his phone wildly through the air. Hanbin flinched backward, afraid for a moment that Matthew was about to hurl into him when he came to an abrupt stop. Matthew was positively brimming with energy. “NCT 127 just announced their next tour!”
“What? Seriously?” Stuffing the rest of the milk bun he was eating into his mouth, Hanbin lunged for Matthew’s phone with both hands. Matthew looked as if he was about to bounce right up into space. Sure enough, pulled up on Matthew’s phone screen was a digital poster of 127’s tour dates—with two nights in Seoul! Hanbin’s eyes widened. “That’s fucking crazy—”
“I know! We were just talking about it, like, two days ago—”
“Ah, I really want to go see them perform their new song live—”
“Hyung, we have to go!” Matthew grinned. “Tickets go on sale this Sunday night. We can go to my place! Bring your phone and your laptop. We’ll use all our devices to get in the virtual queue, and we can borrow my roommate’s gaming computer too! That thing’s supposed to be crazy fast…”
It was as he listened to Matthew ramble on ticket-buying strategies that reality started to sink in. Silently, Hanbin handed Matthew back his phone.
“Taerae’ll probably want to come too, actually. I think he also likes NCT… or was it EXO? I dunno. I can probably talk him into it either way. We can make a whole night of it…” Matthew trailed off. He turned his attention away from his phone and looked up at Hanbin. Hanbin couldn’t meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Hyung, we don’t have to invite Taerae if you don’t—”
“Oh no,” Hanbin said quickly, his eyes widening. “It’s not that—Taerae seems like a nice guy. I’d love to hang out on Sunday to help you guys get tickets. I…” He shrugged nonchalantly, trying hard to convince Matthew (and himself) that it was no big deal. “I don’t think I’m going to go to the concert though.”
“What? Why?” The smile slipped off of Matthew’s face. “Are you serious? Hyung, is this a prank?”
“No, it’s not a pra—”
“It’s NCT. It’s Jung Jaehyun. We’ve been talking about going to see them together since we met—”
“I know, it’s just—” Hanbin sighed. He sunk onto a nearby empty couch, burying his face in his hands as he finally surrendered. “I’m not exactly in a great place financially right now.”
“Oh.” Hanbin didn’t look up, but he could feel the couch cushion sink slightly as Matthew took the spot beside him. “You’re talking about the cafe, right?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Hanbin muttered. He uncovered his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to face Matthew square on. “We’re two months behind on rent. They’re giving us another month to get them the money, but I don’t see how we can turn this around,” he said, staring down at his hands, voicing for the first time, the severity of the concerns that had been plaguing his mind all semester. “I don’t know what to do. My mom’s already been looking into other options for us. We don’t have money for part-timers, so I’ve been trying to help cover the additional hours. We’ll make ends meet, but I’ll probably need to get another job soon…”
“So that’s why I’ve barely seen you since the semester started,” Matthew suddenly realized. “Hyung, have you just been working at the cafe this whole time?”
“Yeah,” Hanbin laughed bitterly. “I promise I haven’t been intentionally trying to avoid you. I don’t have time these days for anything or anyone... I’m supposed to be their leader, and I haven’t been to a single KStars practice this whole month.”
Matthew shook his head, and the two of them fell silent. Hanbin’s mind was racing like crazy; he went back to clutching his head, as if that would help put his financial worries at rest.
“Hyung, please,” Matthew said, right as the bell rang to signal the top of the hour, and two of them got up from the couch to head to class. “I’m serious. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I don’t mind helping out at the cafe.”
“You can dress in a fursuit and breakdance outside to bring in new customers,” Hanbin suggested, and he chuckled as Matthew’s face immediately morphed into one of horror. “I’m kidding. Thank you for offering your help, Matthew. I’m glad you’re here, even just to listen.”
“Yeah, of course, hyung,” Matthew nodded. “I’ll see you after class?”
“Sure. See you—”
Having started in the direction of his classroom before turning away from Matthew, Hanbin didn’t notice when he ran smack into someone. There was a loud clattering sound as the person he bumped into dropped something on the floor. Instinctively, Hanbin grabbed them by the arm before they could stumble forward in succession.
“Sorry,” Hanbin apologized, but the person he had run into immediately brushed his hand off, diving forward for the phone that they had dropped.
“It’s fine.”
It was Zhang Hao, and although Hao hadn’t even turned around to acknowledge him, he was impossible not to recognize.
Zhang Hao picked up his phone in one graceful swoop and rushed into the classroom without another word. The hallmark of a good student: prioritizing punctuality. Hanbin had forgotten that this was the class that they shared.
He took a seat in one of the back rows, and as he watched the back of Zhang Hao’s head as he hurried to his usual spot near the front of the lecture hall, Hanbin felt a strange feeling of longing for a time of the past, a time when the biggest obstacle he had to overcome was beating Zhang Hao in a dance competition.
The bells to the cafe chimed, and in came sounds of the busy afternoon streets of Seoul and the cool breeze of early spring.
Hanbin had just set his bag down after arriving straight from class. He was still tying the back of his apron as he hurried forward to the front. “Hello. Welcome in.” He smiled warmly.
Three girls were crowded together near the entrance, looking curiously over the cafe as they huddled together. They looked like university students. When he appeared, two of the girls greeted him almost shyly, and the third giggled softly from behind them.
“Let me know if you need any help or if you’re ready to order.” He sent them another smile before heading toward the back of the counter to start getting things ready. The girls chattered quietly amongst themselves at the counter, their voices muffled enough that he couldn’t discern them.
“Excuse me?” One of the girls called. She was twirling her long hair between her fingers, and she smiled at him as they made eye contact. “We’re ready to order.”
“Of course,” Hanbin nodded.
They each took turns ordering a beverage. The last girl to order hesitated when Hanbin asked her if that was all.
“Can I get an egg tart, too?” she asked.
“Ooh, get one for me too,” her friend called.
“Buy it yourself. You can order again—”
“Jiwoo-ah…”
“Why are you so stingy?” her other friend chuckled.
“What do you mean stingy?”
“I paid for boba last time—”
“Fine, three egg tarts.” The girl who was ordering rolled her eyes. “And can I get a strawberry parfait, too?”
“Of course,” Hanbin laughed softly as he rang up her order. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s all… What? Stop judging me.” She glared as her friends started snickering.
“What happened to ‘starting today, I’m on a diet’?”
“Starting tomorrow,” the ordering girl smoothly corrected, and the three of them laughed. “This doesn’t count. It looked really good in the picture, okay?”
“Give me a bite, then.”
“Buy your own!”
They were still playfully bickering as Hanbin went to prepare their drinks. It almost felt strange hearing such laughter and warmth coloring what had only moments earlier been a lifeless scene. “Have a good day.” Hanbin smiled at them as he finished packing their order. “Come again soon.”
They hadn’t even headed out the door when the bells jingled again, and two other girls walked in—also university students by the looks of the student ID badges hanging from their waists.
“Hi, welcome in…”
Five people. Six if you included him. Not nearly enough to keep their business on its feet, yet Hanbin couldn’t remember the last time he saw so many people in the cafe.
“Hi.” One of the new girls who had entered said. She peered at him curiously through her glasses. “Wow, you really are handsome.”
“Oh—” Flustered, Hanbin wasn’t sure what to do but laugh. “Th—thank you. What can I get you today?”
It was certainly some streak of good fortune. The two girls ordered a box of macarons to share and stayed in the cafe to enjoy them. A guy Hanbin recognized from another cover dance team on campus came in less than half an hour later and was joined by two of his friends from the team shortly afterward, but not before a group of another four girls came in.
Throughout the day, people continued to trickle in. It was primarily university students at first until work hours ended, and the early evening brought in a herd of young working-class adults. Traffic hardly slowed when night fell too. Another wave of university students started coming in, this time with their laptops and books as they ordered their coffees and huddled down at an empty table or booth to study and work.
Hanbin had been in such a rush from juggling orders and running back and forth that it was only well into the evening when he realized that he hadn’t even taken his dinner break. It wasn’t until he finally sat down that the exhaustion from being on his feet for half the day finally hit him, but it did so in a satisfying sort of way. The cafe was almost unrecognizable from before. Nearly half the tables were now saturated with life, teeming with chatter and laughter that could be heard over the quiet piano music in the background. The scribbling of notes and the tapping of keys could be heard from each and every direction.
If only every day could be like today…
Was it some sort of fluke? Had the universe somehow heard his prayers? Was he in some sort of a dream? Hanbin pinched himself, but he was wide awake.
“This is all from last night?”
As Hanbin sorted through their selection of fresh bread, contemplating which one to steal for his breakfast that morning, his mother stood by the register, astonished as she flipped through the receipts.
“Since yesterday afternoon,” Hanbin replied. He decided on a sweet Nutella bread, carefully wrapping it with a napkin before heading over to make himself an iced americano. “I know, right? I couldn’t believe it either.”
“It must have been tiring on you,” his mother said gently. She looked up at him from the receipts. “Thank you for taking care of it.”
“Of course,” Hanbin said, bending down so that she could kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll be back in the afternoon to help!” he called, before heading out the door for class.
It was not a fluke. It was not a dream. And the universe had most definitely heard his prayers.
He saw the line before he even rounded the corner, and when he saw where it was leading, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Hanbin rushed inside, pardoning himself past the customers in line and hurrying by his poor mother who was managing both the register and the making the drinks all by herself. Quickly, he dropped his stuff off in the back, throwing on his apron without even the chance to fully change into his uniform as he rushed forward to take over the register from her.
“What is all this?” he lowered his voice, whispering to her in disbelief as he peered over the crowd before him.
“It’s a miracle, isn’t it?” His mother shook her head. He couldn’t tell if she looked thrilled or anxious at the huge line of people before them. “I’ve never seen so many people here before. I think they’re all waiting for you.”
“For me?” Hanbin frowned. “Why are they waiting for me?” But before he could get his question answered, the blender turned on and his mother shooed him towards the customers.
The line didn’t seem to be getting any shorter. Twice, he heard his mother muttering how she wished they still had Jiwoong there for an extra set of hands, and on the third time she brought it up, the devil himself was summoned. Jiwoong burst through the door, pushing past the line with Matthew at his heel.
“Ah, Jiwoong-ssi!” Hanbin’s mother perked up from where she was refilling the trays of bread. “I was just talking about how I wish you still worked here. Oh! And Matthew’s here too.”
Jiwoong and Matthew both greeted her politely before shoving their way to the front of the counter, ignoring the protests and the mild cursing of a few of the customers in line after them.
“We’re not ordering,” Jiwoong quickly disclaimed to the people behind him. “Just need to talk to Hanbin for a second—”
“What’s going on?” Hanbin asked.
“This is fucking crazy,” Jiwoong said, surveying the place. Apart from the line stretching out the sidewalk, not only was there a solid group of customers huddled around the front waiting for their order to be called, but there was not a single empty seat in the cafe in sight. “I’ve never seen so many people in this place—or in any cafe, for that matter.”
“I know,” Hanbin leaned forward, lowering his voice, surveying the crowd before him. “I don’t know where all these people suddenly came from. Two days ago, this place was completely vacant… What?” He asked as he noticed Jiwoong and Matthew exchange a look.
“I think I might have an idea of where they came from,” Matthew said, pulling his phone forward and handing it over to Hanbin. “Hyung… you have to see this.”
On Matthew’s phone screen was an Instagram post, and on the Instagram post was…
“That’s me.” Hanbin’s eyes widened. It was a side profile of him from his waist up behind the counter, pouring cream into a coffee drink. Matthew took the phone from him.
“It’s a carousel, look,” Matthew said, flipping the photo album forward. “This is the cover picture. Start from here.”
The first picture featured a box of macaroons and a lidded hot beverage on a picnic table layered with freshly fallen snow. The next picture was of a red bean bun that had been broken in half. The third was a hand holding a fruit tea, and the fourth, some pork floss buns. Then there was a picture of egg tarts and a strawberry parfait followed by a picture of the cafe’s display case that featured all their pastries, where Hanbin could see himself again as a small, blurry figure in the background. The very last picture in the album was the one of his side profile that Matthew had first shown him, but other than that, they were all pictures of food.
“Is this… a food blog?” Hanbin asked, in pure disbelief when he caught sight of the like count (47,000 likes?!) as he flipped through the carousel again. Each picture had been meticulously crafted with care, with the light fragmenting through the drinks at just the right angle to highlight their translucent colors and the pastries framed so that they glistened as if covered in morning dew… the photographer had skill, that was for sure.
“Yeah, and a really big one too,” Jiwoong said. “This guy has over a hundred thousand followers. You struck gold.”
“And look what he wrote about it.” Matthew leaned forward to scroll his phone downward so that Hanbin could see. “Read his caption.”
Hanbin read:
hungry__neogurii While seeking shelter in the winter, I found this gem of a cafe in the walk between my apartment and the university. Their lattes are the best!!! And the desserts there are pretty and yummy too. They’re open late, so it’s perfect for students who stay up late studying.
My only complaint is that the barista there can be a bit frustrating. But it’s hard to be mad at him when he’s so cute.
Hanbin blinked. He read the caption a second time and then a third before he could even start processing it. “Who’s out there calling me frustrating?”