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Sunghoon feels like he’s going to die any moment now. Well, not literally. He just likes to exaggerate because, well…he’s him.
There isn’t much to be entertained with when working in a small local café. It’s not like Sunghoon’s passion is to brew coffee or bake pastries (though, he’s been told that he has a knack for it). Like any other university student, he’s just there to make more money. He isn’t exactly poor—his parents have been funding his education just fine, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a little extra on the side, right?
He lucked out and found a cafe on a corner block near his university, and he’s been working there for a few months now. The workload isn’t horrible, the pay is decent, and his coworkers are nice (plus points because he’s working with his best friend Jaeyun too). He gets to buy himself stuff every now and then, and his shift isn’t impeding his studies. Life is good.
His only complaint? It gets awfully boring.
Though, there are a few highlights in his career that make it worthwhile. But only so few that he can count them in one hand.
On Fridays, a regular in the form of an old man named Cheolin would visit, order his usual, strike up a conversation mostly containing anecdotes from his younger years. The thing is, whenever good old man Cheolin comes for a visit, his name changes every time—along with his backstory. The first week he was just a random geezer, the second, he’s a CEO, and just last Friday, he said he’s an award winning artist. Sunghoon’s pretty sure that he’s a psychopath and they need to stay on his good side for their own sake.
Every other Tuesday, a group of three young college students come in to spend their vacant hours. Sometimes, Sunghoon would overhear their conversation by “accident”, of course, while he sweeps the already clean floor suspiciously close to their table. One of them is named Sunoo apparently, and he keeps ranting about his ex-best friend named Dongpyo. Whoever that is. Sunghoon doesn’t really care. But it would be a lie to say that he isn’t the least bit intrigued by the customer’s beef with this so-called ex-best friend and how he supposedly dated Sunoo’s boyfriend three days after they broke up. But oh well, he’s not really in the place to meddle.
On Mondays, there would be a group of neighborhood aunties who order their waffles for breakfast after their morning zumba exercises and laugh obnoxiously as if they owned the place. Now they make it easy for Sunghoon to eavesdrop with their shrill and loud voices, which is why he knows every detail of the neighborhood ahjumma drama. Ahjumma 1 is apparently sleeping with Ahjumma 3’s husband. He grimaces. That’s bound to get messy.
And on Saturdays, a girl named Wonyoung drops by and orders the most fucking complicated order in the world ever. And while he always makes up an excuse that gets him out of the cashier by the time she’s there, it’s always fun to watch Jaeyun struggle with her extra pumps of white mocha oat milk shaken not stirred vanilla syrup two shots of espresso hazelnut almond nonfat coconut flakes pumpkin spice caramel crumble of a nightmare that she calls her drink.
Today is a Wednesday, which means that none of those interesting customers are in the café. Sunghoon feels like he’s going to die from boredom any moment now. Is he a bad person for finding delight in the ups and downs (especially the downs) of other people’s lives? Probably. Does he care? No, not really. He just thinks of it as a reality show in the flesh and he just happens to have front row seats.
It’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and he’s leaning against the counter with a groan playing on the tip of his tongue. There are only two customers dining in, both have already ordered and are just killing time with their respective drinks. As much as Sunghoon dislikes peak hours where they’re bombarded with orders as customers file in, he hates the slow moments like this all the more.
He sighs, wondering what else he could do to keep him occupied. Everything is taken care of—all tables are neat, the machines are clean, the displays are organized. Nothing. There is nothing to do. He sighs yet again.
“Stop,” Jaeyun whines, shooting him a light glare.
Sunghoon looks at him pointedly, brows rising in defense.
“Stop sighing, it's irritating” He says, tying his apron before arranging their syrups.
“I can’t help it,” Sunghoon admits, resting his elbows on the counter and scanning the place, looking for anything to fix. It’s not like he can use his phone either. They’re not allowed unless it’s completely necessary. Else, their manager Heeseung would chew their ears off with a good scolding. When he finds nothing, he glues his eyes on the door, as if staring at it harder would magically make a customer appear. But that doesn’t happen either, and he lets out a breath as he deflates.
“Why don’t you just change shifts?” Jaeyun suggests. Personally, Jaeyun likes the off-peak hours. This way he can move at the pace he wants and romanticize his life as a charming barista at a local coffee shop. But apparently, that isn’t really Sunghoon’s thing. He’s so used to keeping a fast pace, so used to being always on his feet that being idle makes him want to rip his hair off his scalp.
“I can’t. This is the only shift that goes with my schedule.” He laments, walking over to Jaeyun to watch him replenish their boxes of tea.
All of the sudden, the familiar bell chimes with the opening of the door, and Jaeyun whips his head up to welcome the new customer. “Good afternoon sir! What can we get for you?”
Sunghoon turns around and sees a young man walking up to the other side of the counter, maybe around his age—with golden skin the color of their light caramel syrup, and a sweet and awkward smile to match. He’s got this short black hair and frameless glasses resting on his high nose bridge. Sunghoon returns to his post by the register.
“Hey, could I get uhh…” He drawls, looking at the overhead menu pensively. “Just one latte.”
“Copy,” Sunghoon says, punching in the order. “Anything else?”
“That’s all.”
“Here or to go?”
“To go please,”
Sunghoon fights off a yawn. “Cash or card?”
“Here,” The young man hands over his card, and only when Sunghoon looks up from the machine to receive it, does he see the man’s face properly. Sharp and angled features, yet a softness to them too. He presses his lips together, slightly impressed. Huh. He’s not so bad. He swipes the card and returns it.
“Your name?” He asks, grabbing a paper cup and a marker.
“Oh, just Jongseong.” He says with a small grin.
“Okay, please take a seat. We’ll call your name when your drink is ready.”
Soon enough, Jaeyun is done mixing the drink, handing it to Sunghoon for him to put a lid on. “Customer Jongsaeng!” He calls out. “Customer Jongsaeng!”
The young man stands up from his seat looking perplexed, coming up to the counter to claim his drink. His lips are pursed into a pout, brow raised in confusion. He looks quite adorable actually. “Thanks,” He eyes Sunghoon weirdly before taking the latte and walking out of the café.
Sunghoon scrunches his face when the young man finally leaves, displeased with the look he was given. “What did I do?” He asks in offense.
“You said his name wrong,” Jaeyun notes, not even sparing him a glance as he refills one of their syrup bottles.
Sunghoon shrugs. “Not my fault his name is a mouthful.” But then, all of the sudden, a lightbulb flashes in his mind, and he turns to Jaeyun with a sly smile.
“What?” Jaeyun eyes him doubtfully, with specks of fear in his eyes if you look hard enough. “What is it this time? God, I swear if you’re gonna do something stupid you better not drag me into this.”
Of course, Sunghoon ignores him, too focused on the gears turning in his mind. “Looks like my Wednesdays are about to be interesting too,”
Much to his delight, Jongseong is there again next Wednesday.
“Your name?”
“Jongseong,” He’s sporting a forest green varsity jacket this time, and thick framed glasses. They look good on him. It’s difficult not to keep stealing glances.
Sunghoon nods, writing Jongsing this time. He chuckles to himself.
“Customer Jongsing? Customer Jongsing!” He says, voice annoyingly loud for such a small and cozy café.
Jongseong walks up to the claiming area with knitted brows and a quizzical look. He blinks, as if pondering on whether to correct Sunghoon. A second later he shakes his head and takes his drink defeatedly. “Thanks,” And he’s out the door.
“You are so mean,” Jaeyun laughs, watching everything from behind.
“It’s fun,” Sunghoon reasons.
Next Wednesday, lo and behold, he’s there once more.
He enters the café in a white tank top—displaying his biceps, a big guitar case worn on his back, and a black cap. Sunghoon purses his lips in silent approval. He really is quite the looker. He orders a macchiato.
“Your name?
He hesitates briefly. “Jongseong.”
“Alright, coming right up.” Sunghoon says, beaming at him.
A few moments later, after Jaeyun had completed the order, Sunghoon clears his throat in preparation. “Customer Ginseng? Customer Ginseng?”
Jongseong whips his head around, almost in incredulity, and points to himself in question. Sunghoon nods with a smile before handing him his drink.
The young man scowls, but decides against speaking up. “Thanks,” is all he says before leaving.
“Are you like, waiting to see how long it takes before he gets mad at you?” Jaeyun asks with arms crossed over his chest.
“No, not really.” Sunghoon answers truthfully. “It’s just funny seeing his reactions.”
“If we lose a regular because of you, I’m snitching to Heeseung hyung,” Jaeyun huffs, turning on his heel.
It happens all over again the same day next week.
Jongseong walks in with an air around him that just somehow gets more alluring with each visit, wearing an all denim outfit and some sunglasses. Sunghoon has to school his face at the sight.
“Your name?”
Jongseong lowers his sunglasses to look at him callously. Sunghoon rolls his shoulders back in an attempt to stand his ground, which isn’t really proving to be effective. He tries to hold his gaze, but is the first to look away.
“Jongseong,” He answers, crossing his arms.
Well, if he thinks that intimidating Sunghoon would solve his problems, he’s definitely mistaken. “Customer Joseon? Customer Joseon!”
Great. As if his previous names weren’t enough, he's gone and turned into the old Republic of Korea.
He takes a deep breath in to collect himself, steam escaping his nostrils and ears. Jongseong stands up from his seat and takes his drink. “Thanks,” He says, not really meaning it anymore.
Next Wednesday, Jongseong doesn’t disappoint. He shows up again, only this time, he’s clad in a white shirt and a black blazer, a gold necklace, and slicked back ebony hair. No glasses today. A few heads turn when he enters, and Sunghoon has to begrudgingly admit that he’s quite stunning.
He walks up to the counter, and when he looks directly at him, eyes piercing through his soul, Sunghoon finds himself averting his gaze. He clears his throat and takes Jongseong’s order.
“Your name?” Sunghoon asks, holding a cup and marker in hand.
Jongseong takes a moment to think. “Jong.” There. Four letters. Shouldn’t be so hard to mispronounce, right? Wrong. Not when you’re Sunghoon and actively looking for creative ways to be a little shit.
“Customer John? Customer John?”
It was so far off that Jongseong, for a moment, believed that it was someone else’s order. But Sunghoon cranes his neck and makes eye contact with him, shooting him a customer service smile and beckoning him over.
This time, Jongseong just grabs the cup from his hand and leaves. And Sunghoon has the gall to be offended. “Gee, not even a thanks?”
Despite this, Jongseong pays a visit the next week too. Sunghoon doesn’t know why, because at this point he’s pretty sure that he’s pissed him off enough to find a new café, but somehow he’s still there. Maybe he really likes the coffee.
Initially, he just did it for a few laughs, that’s all. He was planning to stop after the third. But there’s just something in the way Jongseong furrows his brows and scowls that makes him want to keep going. So he does.
“Your name?”
Jongseong stares at him, losing all the warmth he possessed before. Gone is the sweet and awkward smile he first walked in with. “Seong.” He says with a deadpan, getting quite sick of this barista absolutely butchering his name. It’s such a good name too! Jongseong. Collector of stars. He thinks his parents outdid themselves with that one. But this snarky little nuisance of a man keeps ruining it for him.
However, despite his attempts to shorten his name for the barista’s convenience, it never works out well.
“Customer San? Customer San!” Sunghoon calls out, pretending to look around the café even though he knows exactly where Jongseong is seated.
A man with sharp eyes and a chiseled face who is actually named San, comes up to the counter for his order. Sunghoon looks at him incredulously. “No not you,” He gestures for him to step aside. Then, he looks at Jongseong and holds his drink up with an insincere smile.
Jongseong groans, scornfully grabbing his drink.
At this point, Wednesday becomes Sunghoon’s favorite day of the week. Definitely not because he likes seeing Jongseong, but because he likes the way Jongseong’s face scrunches and drops in irritation. Or so he thinks.
“Your name?” He questions, holding a paper cup and a marker.
He runs his hand down his face with a tired sigh. “Jay.”
“Jay?” Sunghoon echoes, writing a different name on the cup before handing it to Jaeyun.
Jongseong shrugs. “It’s my English name.”
There’s an awkward pause of them just standing parallel to each other, blinking. “Mine is Steve.” Sunghoon doesn’t know what prompts him to say this.
An airy chuckle escapes Jongseong’s lips and his fist flies to his mouth to hide it. “Cool.” He goes to his usual spot to wait for his drink.
“Customer Chae? Customer Chae,”
Jongseong gets up from his chair, this time sauntering to the counter with intent. Instead of taking his drink wordlessly, he puts his hands on the granite. “Have I done something wrong to you?”
“What?” Sunghoon stutters, taken aback. He never expected to be confronted, and now he kinda wants to run away. He was having so much fun with being a tease, but he definitely bit off more than he could chew.
“It’s just—whatever name I give you, you always get it wrong.” Jongseong muses. He doesn’t seem mad, just…confused.
He’s had his fair share of angry or demanding customers, and he was quick to placate them with a charismatic smile. But somehow, Sunghoon is at a loss this time. Thankfully, Jaeyun steps in and saves him.
“Sorry, it’s a skill issue.” He says with a practiced laugh that sounds so real that Sunghoon almost reels at him in offense. “We’re sorry, it won’t happen again.” He bows in apology, pushing Sunghoon’s head down to do the same.
Needless to say, Jongseong becomes the talk of the town amongst the café employees. Which is actually just him and Jaeyun.
“You have to admit, though, he’s pretty hot.” Jaeyun says with an approving frown and a tilt of his head, wiping down some of their pitchers.
Sunghoon pauses, as if to contemplate. “Ehh,” Is what he says. “He’s so-so,” He adds, not wanting to vocalize any of the praises that ran through his mind whenever he saw said customer. But the truth is, he can’t help but find himself drawn to Jongseong. The man just has that certain charm—pulling all gazes to him despite his nonchalance.
“Stop lying,” Jaeyun laughs, rolling his eyes. “You’re just messing with him to get his attention.”
“I am not!” Sunghoon sputters, appalled that Jaeyun would even think that.
“It’s true!” Jaeyun debates haughtily. “You’re only this much of a pesk when you find someone interesting.”
Sunghoon shakes his head with a disbelieving scoff, but Jaeyun isn’t done just yet. “What? You wanna bet on it? I assure you I’m absolutely—” His eyes flit to something behind Sunghoon, and immediately straightens up. “He’s here, he’s here. Act natural.” Then, he all but pushes Sunghoon to the register.
“Hey,” He says, albeit a tad shaky. “What can I get for you?”
Jongseong raises a brow, staring at Sunghoon for longer than necessary. Sunghoon clears his throat, looking everywhere else but at the man before him. “I’ll get a passion fruit tea burst and a cinnamon roll.”
“To go?” Sunghoon asks, punching in his order. Well, all of Jongseong’s previous orders have been to go, he just assumes it would be the same.
“No. Dine in.” Something about that makes Sunghoon nervous.
“Cash or card?”
“Cash,” He responds, putting a big bill on the counter despite Sunghoon’s outstretched hand.
Sunghoon eyes the bill with a silent sigh. “Do you have a smaller bill?”
“Oh, no.” Jongseong says in a tone that just sounds so fake. “I’m sorry, that’s all I have.” He adds, despite his wallet thick with smaller bills. Sunghoon picks up on his tone and catches a glimpse of his wallet. Well, Jongseong just thinks that two can play at this game.
He presses his lips together, trying to wear a wry smile. “Alright, we’ll serve it to you in a while.”
The moment Jongseong turns around, Sunghoon grits his teeth and scowls, slightly raising his arm and pretending he’s about to hit Jongseong. He isn’t exactly a fan of being given a taste of his own medicine.
Jongseong’s complete order lays on the tray and looks at Sunghoon almost tauntingly. Jaeyun is working on another drink, and Heeseung is cleaning the tables out in the al fresco dining. So that leaves him.
He gulps. See, usually, he doesn’t back down from a fight. He’s Park Sunghoon after all! Oddly enough, he can’t find it in himself to step toe to toe with Jongseong. He can’t even hold his stare for more than three seconds for fuck’s sake. He tries to, but there’s this unpleasant churning in his stomach that he just has to look away. It’s like skimming the milk too long that it becomes a bubbling, boiling mess.
Left with no other choice, he takes the tray and walks over to where Jongseong is seated. He’s by the window, a few papers and notebook haphazardly strewn on the table. He’s hunched over his laptop, squinting his eyes as he types slowly. He types like an old person. That’s oddly endearing.
Clearing his throat, he makes his presence known, and Jongseong immediately clears the table for his order. “One passion fruit tea burst, and a cinnamon roll.” Sunghoon says, bending a little and placing them before the young man. Then he nods, and steps back. However, he is immediately stopped with a hand to his wrist.
“Sorry, hold on,” Jongseong says just as Sunghoon turns back to look at him. He beckons him to come closer, so he does—bending a little to be in perfect earshot. Jongseong’s rich perfume immediately hits Sunghoon’s nose, and he has to pretend he’s completely composed, when really, the proximity is enough to make something crawl underneath his skin.
“Can you please get me table napkins—” Jongseong looks him straight in the eye, and Sunghoon involuntarily gulps. Jongseong’s eyes dart down as he notices the lopsided name tag pinned on Sunghoon’s chest. He raises his brows in interest, and with his deft fingers, he adjusts it as he reads the print.
Sunghoon feels his fingertips through his shirt, sparking electricity by the touch. “Sunghoon?” He grins, as if he didn’t just make Sunghoon feel like he’s going to bubble up and boil and combust like skimmed milk.
He steps back as if he’s been burned, a hot feeling creeping up from his neck all the way to his forehead. “Y-yes. Right away.”
“Thanks,” Jongseong smiles smugly, finding it absolutely amusing as he watches the barista scurry off. Looks like little Sunghoon is all bark and no bite.
Sunghoon deposits a few table napkins and all but runs back to the counter to seek refuge from Jongseong’s presence. Jaeyun, of course, sees all this, and laughs his ass off insufferably like the true best friend that he is.
“Shut up,” Sunghoon hisses, cheeks dusted pink. And he spends the rest of the hour doing everything he can to avoid the hot customer sitting by the window.
When Jongseong finishes his food, he packs up his things and prepares to leave. Jaeyun nudges Sunghoon with his elbow, and he pretends not to care.
Jongseong puts a small bill (the smaller bill he said he didn’t have!!!) into their tip box by the register, and pins Sunghoon with a haughty smile. “Thanks again, Sunghoon.” He says, deliberately putting emphasis on his name, his gaze lingering far longer than Sunghoon can take.
The moment he walks out of the door, Jaeyun is doubling over, howling in laughter at how Sunghoon just got owned. “What? Cat got your tongue?” He teases in a sing-song voice before cackling again.
“Oh, fuck off,” Sunghoon huffs, the warmth in his face not subsiding at all.
Next Wednesday, at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, Jongseong is nowhere to be seen. Sunghoon sits behind the counter, absolutely bored out of his mind, rocking to and fro. 4, 5 pm, still nothing. By 6 in the early evening, Sunghoon thinks Jongseong just won’t show up.
Jaeyun is mopping the floor, but he suddenly stops in front of Sunghoon and leans forward to double check, having no concept of personal space. He gasps lightly. “You’re disappointed,” It wasn’t even a question, it was an accusation. Sunghoon swats his face away.
“I am not.” He grunts. “Why should I care whether he shows up or not?”
Jaeyun shrugs. “Just looked to me like you were expecting him.”
Was he? Why should he? He just picked him out of whim and toyed with his name for his own entertainment. Sunghoon flinches. It doesn’t sound very nice when he puts it that way. But then again, it would be a lie to say that he doesn’t fix his eyes on the door every Wednesday in anticipation, waiting for a certain honey skinned dream to walk through the doors.
“I was not,” he scowls, finally standing up from his seat as his shift nears its end.
He’s in the middle of removing his apron, when all of the sudden, the familiar bell chimes with the opening of the door, and Jaeyun whips his head up to welcome the new customer. “Good evening sir! What can we get for you?”
Sunghoon turns around and sees the young man walking up to the other side of the counter, maybe around his age—with golden skin the color of their light caramel syrup, and a sweet and awkward smile to match.
Sunghoon puts his apron on and returns to his post at the register. “Hey, what can I get for you?”
“Hey, Sunghoon. Could I get uhh…” He drawls, looking at the overhead menu pensively. Sunghoon has to pretend his chest doesn’t tighten when his name rolls down his tongue. “Just one latte.”
“Copy,” Sunghoon says, punching in the order. “Anything else?”
“That’s all.”
“Here or to go?”
“To go please,”
Sunghoon fights off a blush. “Cash or card?”
“Here,” The young man hands over his card, and only when Sunghoon looks up from the machine to receive it, does he properly see Jongseong’s face—a coy smile playing on his lips, the warm lights of the café reflected in his starry eyes. He fixes Sunghoon with an unreadable look. It seems a little smug, but there’s something else that he can’t quite place.
He blinks, willing himself out of his stupor. “Your name?” He grabs a paper cup and a marker.
To his surprise, Jongseong takes the cup and pen from him, and writes it down himself. Sunghoon can’t help but chuckle. It’s been a few weeks and he’s gotta give it to the man, he’s still very much entertaining. Jongseong must have grown so sick and tired of his antics that he needs to take it into his own hands.
He gives the cup back shortly after, and Sunghoon immediately hands it to Jaeyun. “We’ll call you when it’s done.”
While Jaeyun’s busy making the drink, Sunghoon’s loitering by the counter, stealing glances of the young man taking a seat by the window. The streetlights from outside paint him in a faint glow, touching the highs of his cheeks and nose with warm splotches of light. He crosses his legs and drums his fingers on the table, shaking his foot as he waits. Today, he’s dressed in a black button down shirt, tucked into a pair of slacks that hug his waist and ahem, ass, ahem so nicely. He folds his sleeves up to his elbows, and Sunghoon snaps out of it, belatedly realizing that he was staring.
Jaeyun hands him the drink, and he turns it around to read the name written. When he does, the drumming in his chest suddenly gains volume, pounding against his ribcage in a painful rhythm. “What the fuck.” He spits.
“Why? Is there something wrong with the order?” Jaeyun asks, peeking over his shoulder to check, only to throw his head back in obscene laughter. He clutches his stomach and wipes the tears away from his eyes. Sunghoon thinks his best friend is being dramatic, because this isn't fucking funny. At all. But really, he should see his face, paling like a ghost and then glowing red like a drunken man.
“You asked for this.” Jaeyun says with a final laugh, before stepping back, obviously unwilling to offer help.
Fuck it. Sunghoon thinks. He’s not going to read that. So, he clears his throat and calls out the young man’s name. He knew it all along after all. “Customer Jongseong? Jongseong!”
Jongseong lifts a brow, but doesn’t make any signs of moving from his spot. In fact, he doesn’t even turn to look.
“Sir Jongseong?” There’s a nervous laugh on Sunghoon’s tongue now, as he feels like the world is slowly caving in, brick by brick, it falls on his head—a repercussion for all the bad deeds he’s done in his life. Which is…well, a lot. Jongseong looks at him this time, but shakes his head. Then he turns back to the window, people-watching in content.
“Just read it!” Jaeyun exclaims, getting impatient from watching.
“I don’t want to.” Sunghoon mutters. “Jongseong!”
“He’s not coming, you know.”
“Sir Jongseong?” No, nothing. Should he just give it to him himself? No, he wouldn’t want to face him with that ridiculous blush of his spread across his cheek.
“Customer Jongseong,”
Jaeyung rolls his eyes. “Read it, or I will.”
Somehow, he doesn’t want to relinquish it to him either.
“Mr. Jongseong—”
“Just read the goddamn name!”
“Baby!” Sunghoon yells, eyes screwed shut, body flinching as if bracing for physical impact.
At this, he hears Jaeyun hollering behind him, his annoying giggles bouncing off the walls. Too scared to open his eyes lest he sees something that will certainly kill him from humiliation, he stays like that for a few seconds. However, a deep voice makes him crack an eye open.
There’s Jongseong, standing across from him on the other side of the counter with a self-satisfied grin. Sunghoon doesn’t know if he wants to smack that smile off his face with his fist or with his lips.
“You finally called me properly.” Jongseong says, obviously enjoying how Sunghoon is now a beet red sputtering mess.
“I—you! But—” His words refuse to make sense of themselves, tripping over each other that he just gives up on talking and all but shoves the drink into his hands.
With mirth twinkling in Jongseong’s eyes, he slips a bill into their tip box, before looking up to talk to Sunghoon once more. “What time does your shift usually end?”
Sunghoon blinks, thinking that he heard wrong. It seems as though he took too long in answering, because it’s Jaeyun who does it for him. “6:30!”
Jongseong nods at Jaeyun in thanks, before handing a piece of paper to Sunghoon.
Confused and absolutely at a loss, he accepts the paper with both of his hands.
“See you tomorrow, Sunghoon.” Jongseong beams, “I’ll meet you after your shift.” And just like that, he’s out the door, taking a few sips of his latte.
He looks down at the paper and sees: Park Jongseong - 11301208420.
Releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, Sunghoon gapes. Looks like everyday is about to be interesting now.