Archive of Our Own ^beta

“These sugarplum fairies won’t stay on.”

“What?”

“The biscuits, they’re sliding off the damn icing.”

“I heard you the first time. I meant what as in not in my reputable kitchen.”

In a frenzy, Haknyeon chased one of the rolling decorative candy pearls down the bakery tiles. Those things cost almost 5 bucks a piece.

“Should we just go without the toppers?”

“Sure. And you can tell 50 little girls in ballerina costumes that their winged role models got into a plane crash on the way.”

“… So we stay with the toppers or?”

“Jab sticks in them or something, Hak.”

“Don’t know what I’d do without you, Eric!”

Eric Sohn (26)

• Runs “Pies that Bind,” a popular bakery downtown
• Has two real friends
• Meticulous in all things culinary, although a little less detail-oriented in the dating scene

Ju Haknyeon (27)

• Co-runs “Pies that Bind,” mainly an artist of the frosting
• ½ of said real friends
• Always saying something about masterminding chance encounter
  
  

Eric dusted his flour-covered hands on the apron around his waist and left Haknyeon to his frosting duties. After a quick survey of the emptied place, he collected the last of the used dishes for the sink. Today hadn’t been too hectic, thankfully, just alive enough to keep the business running. All that was left on the checklist were the sugarplum fairies, only 10 minutes after closing time.

The double ding from the counter led Eric to his phone. As soon as the screen light hit his face, he barely even tried to cover up a smile.

“Who’s that?” Haknyeon asked, trained on the cupcakes.

Eric bit his lip. “Changmin.”

“Does he know he still owes me 15 bucks because of that horrible street percussionist last week?” 

“He wants to know if we’re free for drinks at Chocolate City.”

Haknyeon travelled to the other side of the counter for a better angle, inserting a toothpick into a candied sugarplum fairy with just the right amount of force. “Is today a Friday?”

“Yeah,” Eric said.

“Then I am available until sunrise. I just need to drop something off at the bank, call my roommate to feed the parrots, and—”

“Haknyeon. Please tell him you can’t go,” Eric almost begged.

“Three seconds! That’s a whole new record.”

Eric followed Haknyeon around the cupcake tray, all drenched in desperation, pleading from his eyes to the soles of his toes. “I’ll treat you to Rita’s lasagna and do the dishes for a week.”

Haknyeon stopped in his tracks. “For a month.”

“For two weeks.”

“A month,” He repeated.

“For three weeks.”

Haknyeon took a moment to think about it, but agreed. “You have a deal.”

Eric pumped his fists in the air and leapt and danced so much you would think he’d scored front row tickets to Taeyeon in February. He slapped Haknyeon a few times in celebration, and happily received more slaps in return. Haknyeon rolled his eyes while squeezed into Eric’s hug of extreme gratitude.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You are so down bad for this man it’s crazy,” Haknyeon said. “Without ever having asked him out, might I add.”

“Yes, I’m crazy because I won’t gamble a 6-year friendship away on gut feel.”

“Your eternal torture,” Haknyeon slid the last toothpick in with all the control on the continent and finished. “Anyway, these fairies have never looked finer.”

“You are God,” Eric declared.

“Yeah, yeah, ” Haknyeon replied. “Let Changmin know. I’ll close up shop with you.”

“Oh crap, right.”

Disco Strangler (Ji Changmin)
Anyone free to drink at CC tonight?

The Hyde (Eric Sohn)
Hak’s got some stuff to do, but I will absolutely be there

Disco Strangler (Ji Changmin)
❤️

At 5:30, Eric pocketed the keys to the front door and joined Haknyeon on the way out. The sidewalk along Renaissance street had a crisp air about it that was especially humid in late November. Where snow had fully replaced warm-toned leaves on trees also marked the beginning of the true winter , the way Eric liked naming it, known for dry corndogs and singing hobos and frostbite.

Either way, Eric had long decided that small towns were Winter Wonderlands, and that Windsill in particular was the place to be, hypothermia and all.

About six blocks down, it was Haknyeon who’d noticed the change.

“Aw, the old tea house closed down.”

“What? Why?” Eric asked.

“I don’t know. I heard they were selling the place off a few weeks ago, but I didn’t think it would actually happen. I wonder who’s buying it.”

“I think you mean who’d already bought it,” Eric pointed out, judging from the ribbon through the handles of the front door. “Looks like opening day is soon.”

“Should we stop by?” Haknyeon asked.

Eric observed the lack of signage around the rebranded little building and, more importantly, the lack of any town familiarity whatsoever. The new owner had probably moved from the big city.

“Maybe. Or, you know, we could just stick to our stuff.”

Haknyeon shrugged before refocusing ahead.

6:05 PM
Chocolate City, Main Street

Eric clamored through the semi-crowd at the pub entrance. The place smelled of beer, and rosemary, and billiards, and onion rings, and lit up in orange lanterns suspended from the ceiling.

Changmin waved at him from one of the booths with slightly disheveled dark hair and a smile that glued Eric to the floor. He waved back quickly, but first gestured to the restroom, where he locked himself in a cubicle and had a mini schoolgirl meltdown for at least five minutes.

About 7 years ago, trainee campus journalist Eric Sohn had knocked on the door to the cheer squad practice room and sat the wrong captain down for an exclusive interview. Ji Changmin, while the false interviewee, had been more than happy to comply with the questioning at the time. From there, frequent chance encounters turned into plans, a certain Ju Haknyeon came along for the ride, and a lifelong friendship was born—among other, growing realizations.

The empty toilet paper dispenser was the real turning point. Running out of excuses, Eric smoothed out his shirt and decided it was time to face the music.

Changmin had been typing away at his phone, but put the thing down as soon as Eric slid into the seat in front of him.

“Hey, Eric Sohn,” Changmin said, giddily.

“Hey, Jichang.”

Ji Changmin (27)

• Full-time P.E. school teacher at Daybreak Elementary
• ½ of Eric’s only friends; 1/1 his big, embarrassing crush
• Great believer of the paranormal/extraterrestrial
  
  

“How you been?” Changmin asked, leaning forward on crossed arms.

“You mean, over the three whole days we hadn’t seen each other?”

Changmin shook his head and chuckled, absentmindedly making Eric’s insides do a thing. “No need to pretend you didn’t miss me.”

“Ha ha.” Ha ha.

“Anything new with you lately? Haknyeon? The bakery?”

“Umm,” Eric began. “Nothing too new. You?”

“Well…” Changmin trailed off, drawing Eric’s curiosity.

“What?”

“Since you asked, there is something I’ve been thinking about.”

Eric searched for a napkin, already feeling the chill down the side of his face. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. The truth is, I’ve been feeling a little bored. With everything.”

“Bored… okay.”

“And just the other day, I came across an ad for one of those dating apps.”

Eric blinked, mildly unsure of where this was going, while even more unsure of where he’d thought this was going in the first place.

Changmin grinned, light across his face, and slammed the table in excitement. “Eric, I am officially putting myself back out there. I’m going back to dating.”

“Oh, wow. That is… great news?”

“Isn’t it? I figured, it’s been a while since Kevin and I split up, and online dating is in and convenient, and what harm could it possibly bring to anyone if I were back on the market?”

“No harm at all.”

“Right?” Changmin stopped to lay a hand on Eric’s, switching to a slightly more genuine tone. “Thanks for being so supportive. It’s why you’re my best friend.”

“Obviously.”

Changmin retracted with a smile. “You ready to order?”

“Absolutely. Let’s get some alcohol in this system.”

2:27 AM
Home, Autumn Avenue

*ring*

Haknyeon: 
Hello?

Eric:
Changmin’s lost his mind.

Haknyeon:
… Do you have any idea what time it is?

Eric:
What is he doing on dating apps when there’s someone perfectly fit to date right in front of him? Me??

Haknyeon:
Two, twenty… it’s almost two-thirty in the morning.

Eric:
And he was so excited about it, too. You know who’s on dating apps? Axe murderers.

Haknyeon:
Apparently it’s not just you. The neighbors are in a karaoke trance.

Eric:
Psychopaths. Voice phishers. Illusionists. My great aunt Sal.

Haknyeon:
Hang on, they’re not doing karaoke. But the screaming? Ah.

Eric:
Wait a minute… what if I got on a dating app? If I create a profile that meets his preferences down to the last detail… we might be able to match.

Haknyeon:
I can’t believe they’re still at it. Like animals.

Eric:
But I don’t know a thing about dating, let alone online dating. I’m going to need some experience first. You’re right.

Haknyeon:
What are we talking about?

Eric:
Thanks, Haknyeon. I think I’ve got a plan.

Haknyeon:
Thanks for what — Eric! I had no part in this!

*click*

8:24 AM
Pies that Bind, Renaissance Street

“So what you’re saying is, I should go with ambitious instead of charmer,” Eric started. “Well I can see it because I’ve known him for seven years, learned his type, and it just makes more sense for his dream guy to be a guy with dreams. What do you think?”

“Look, man, I just wanted to order a soufflé.”

Eric nodded for a moment at the redhead customer in the scarf, before shaking his head. “No, but I know he likes a charmer too. I think you were right the first time.”

“Can I get a possibility check on that soufflé—”

“Whoa! Absolutely,” Haknyeon emerged from the break room, mortified all over as he dragged a distracted Eric away from the register. 

“Very sorry for the inconvenience, but I will get you that soufflé right after I get my boss out of this hypnotic state.”

Haknyeon flashed the customer a sheer smile before shoving Eric into the break room and shutting the door behind him.

“Just for the record, I am not your boss. We’re running this thing together.”

“You are acting insane,” Haknyeon said. “Yesterday you were on my ass because the lines in the croissants weren’t parallel enough. Now, because of Changmin , we are two sentences away from a harassment case. Will you get it together?”

Eric paced around the room, avoiding Haknyeon’s eyes. “OK. Yeah, I’m sorry. I will rechannel perfectionist Satan.”

“Good.”

“But one last thing, do you think my eyes shine better when I’m in white or in blue?” Eric waved two near-identical pictures on his phone in Haknyeon’s face.

Haknyeon lowered the phone out of his eyeline and sighed. “I will help you set up your account after we do our jobs. Alright?”

“Fine.”

“Get out of here.”

Eric complained, “Okay, again, we’re running this thing together,” and found himself out the door.

Several near-gruelling hours of work later, Eric was halfway through his third bottle of electrolytes and Haknyeon had passed out in the seat next to him. It was only 11 o’clock.

Without wasting time, Eric whipped his phone out on the table and scrolled through his account under construction, missing content in the about me section.

“Hey, what should I say about me?”

“Keep it short, interesting, and relatable,” Haknyeon replied without getting up.

Eric clicked on the edit button. “I run a bakery in the area. My dog’s name is Bolt. Pregnancy reveals make me cry, and I am always up for an adventure.”

“OK, don’t make stuff up, either,” Haknyeon intervened, snatching Eric’s phone. “…and I will most definitely stay indoors on a Saturday night.”

“What—now you made me boring.”

“I made you real . Now work on your search filters.”

Eric furrowed his eyebrows as he entered the information and switched to the filters page. “10km of Windsill, younger than 30, 5”9, P.E. schoolteacher—”

“Give me that,” In a second Haknyeon had hopped back into the driver’s seat. “Windsill, over 25, all heights above 5”5 welcome, employed.”

Eric was about to oppose when the sound of the chimes above the entrance door interrupted him. Despite the sign outside that read lunch break in huge, arial letters.

“Sorry, we’re on break. Come back in an hour,” Haknyeon explained, slumped in his chair.

“Oh, I just want to make a reservation for Monday. Can I fill out a form or something right now?” The customer asked, looking around the store.

Haknyeon, stopped by the realization, stood up and made a way for the counter. “Well, I guess you can do that.”

With a slip and a pen in hand, he asked. “What’s your name?”

“How. Dare. You.”

The unexpected set of words invited an ice cold wind into the shop and brought all three people inside to a stop. Haknyeon was the first to regain motion, turning in the direction of the source, where Eric had gotten up from his chair with a strange light in his eyes and the energy of ten alpha wolves.

“What is happening?” Haknyeon asked, impossibly confused.

To add to the perplexity, it was the customer who seemed to have the response.

“Don’t you think that even for you, that is way too much surprise?”

“I’m not sitting in a pentagram on the floor surrounded by candles, am I? So you tell me why the hell you’re back here,” Eric said.

“Back here?”

“In this town, in my bakery, in my life ? After all the witchcraft I’d picked up to make sure you were gone for good?”

Haknyeon stood between Eric and the mystery customer with increasing disbelief, wanting to say something, but not entirely knowing what.

“You know the old tea house six blocks from here?” The customer asked, dead serious.

Eric’s face darkened. “No.”

“I bought it. I’m opening a bookstore, and I would love a good tray of your finest cupcakes for opening day.”

Eric shook his head like he’d received the worst news of his life.

“I’ll just, fill that form out later. But I’ll leave a business card.”

“I can’t believe you came back,” Eric mumbled.

Leaving the card and a polite grin at the counter, the customer walked to the door, but stopped once to say goodbye.

“It’s quite nice seeing you again, Youngjae.”

“I can’t believe you came back,” Eric repeated under his breath.

As soon as the customer had disappeared from sight, Haknyeon picked up the business card and ran to an unreadable Eric.

“What on earth? That was like something out of a movie. Who was that?” He asked.

Eric only stared blankly at him before walking away to the break room, and locking the door behind him with a scream. Haknyeon scanned the business card, and while he still had no answers, the mystery customer apparently had a name.

Kim Sunwoo, Founder

Kim Sunwoo (26)

• Owns The Raven’s Corner, a newly-opened bookstore along the same street as the bakery
• Ghost of the past
• Charming, street-smart, often unpredictable

2013, October
Halloween Party

15 minutes before midnight, rock music from the speakers coming out muffled through the walls, Eric sat alone outside on the patio, wondering why no one else had dressed as well to the occasion.

“Mind if I sit?” asked a pale vampire drenched in punch, with a bloody mouth and messy eye makeup.

“Not at all,” Eric replied. 

“Who are you supposed to be?”

Eric looked the well-dressed vampire up and down before announcing, “Raven.”

“Interesting choice. I like your cape.”

“Thanks. I made it myself.”

The vampire smiled, and Eric pulled his self-made, hand-sewn hood off his head.

“Want some of that spiked punch?” he asked, offering a plastic cup.

In a moment of spontaneity, Eric accepted. “Sure.”

They toasted to the event, and after attempting to down the whole drink in one go, ended up simultaneously spitting it out. Eric would have laughed, but a second, bubbling feeling began to climb his throat, and before he knew it he was puking his night’s fill into a rose bush.

Wordlessly, the vampire slid over and held his cape back for him.

“Thanks…?”

“Sunwoo,” The vampire supplied. “Anytime… Raven?”

“Youngjae,” he replied, before going a second round.

5:10 PM
The Ride Home

The afternoon train had made a cursed stop in front of the tea shop-turned-bookstore, effectively disrupting Eric’s attempts to return to peace. Somehow, he had spiralled even lower into a state of chaos, panic, and despair all at once over the course of 6 hours. The memory of the lunch break interruption replayed endlessly in his head.

“You still haven’t told me anything. Who was that earlier?” Haknyeon asked, observing the downfall from the seat next to him.

“Someone… insignificant,” Eric said. “And yet I can’t shake off the feeling that he’s going to be appearing a lot more often from now on, because I wasn’t hostile enough this morning. Damn it, I knew I should have brought out the spell book.”

“Distant cousin? Childhood friend? The guy who used to chew everything too loud in class?” Haknyeon prodded. “Ex-boyfriend?”

The hairs on Eric’s skin stood up like reflex. “Definitely not.”

“If you say so.”

Restless, Eric drummed his leg on the floor and fanned himself with his collar. “Is it hot in here?”

As he reached for the air conditioning in the ceiling he knocked over one of the gym bags in the overhead compartment, which landed on the old lady sitting in front of him, whacking her in the head. She turned around with displeasure.

“I am so sorry.”

“OK, you need to shut this down. Get your mind off of this guy,” Haknyeon stepped in, unable to bear witness to potential disaster unfolding. “Give me your phone.”

Without warning, Haknyeon opened Eric’s dating app and started swiping left with no mercy. “Too far, too tall, that is a 60-year-old man, too into sports,”

“Haknyeon, stop!”

As Eric instructed, Haknyeon lifted his thumb and grinned. “Excellent choice. You’ve just swiped right on the guy who orders a bagel from us every morning. He’s cute.”

“What?!”

Eric reached for his phone, but Haknyeon wouldn’t let him win. After a beat, he practically beamed with triumph. “And he just swiped right on you, too.”

With Haknyeon all proud and mighty, Eric managed to snatch his poor phone back for a few seconds, narrowing in on the profile.

Younghoon, 29. Likes bread, his dog Bori, and photography.

“Yeah, you’d be pretty stupid to swipe left on that,” Haknyeon commented, all singsong-y.

Eric’s eyes widened at the notification on top of his screen.

“He wants to know if my Tuesday’s free?!”

“We’re in! Say yes, Eric, I’ll take care of the store!”

“Haknyeon, I’ve never casually dated and I’ve had one relationship in the last 10 years. You tell me this doesn’t sound like a preventable massive failure.”

“Can I see the message real quick?” Haknyeon asked, and Eric foolishly complied. “Tuesday… is… great. Sent!”

“What do you think you’re doing? Hak!”

“Eric,” Haknyeon seized him by the shoulders, wanting more than anything for some sense to settle in. “I’m not asking you to marry the guy, or propose to him and then stand him up at the altar. It’s casual dating. You need the experience, remember?”

Eric looked down at his phone in Haknyeon’s grip, shut his eyes tight, and weighed his options. “…Fine. One date with this guy. For the experience.”

“That's my boy. Now ease up, you’re almost home.”

Younghoon
Tuesday, 1:20 PM

The night before had been filled with a wardrobe raid, rehearsals with the mirror, endless consultations (his sister on Boston time was not pleased), and a little bit of screaming. It was all beginning to reek of disaster, but the proverbial hard worker, Eric imagined he would have to get it over with, one way or another. So, one perfect fit, a kettle of green tea, and a reminder of his purpose just a few hours later, Eric had managed to presentably exit home and walk the short distance to the restaurant.

He thought it was a great idea to meet at La Rouge when Younghoon suggested, not just because of the walkable distance from home and any other nearby panic rooms, but also because they served an excellent truffle pasta and played the right music to start a conversation.

Only mildly anxious, Eric rearranged the silverware on the table three times and checked his watch six. He’d arrived at the meeting place 10 minutes early out of both principle and pressure, and the day had barely begun for him.

Surely enough, right on schedule, Younghoon pushed through the doors.

He waved back at Eric, who’d chosen a table next to the large glass window, and approached him with a tender smile. 

“Hey there, CEO. Never thought I’d meet you outside the bakery, let alone on a date.”

Eric blushed a little at the title and shrugged. “Well, likewise.”

Younghoon smiled as he pulled his own seat out. “You look great.”

They shared a moment of mutual, surveying glances before Eric replied, “Likewise.”

“Shall we order some food?”

Within an hour or two, Eric had fallen into a somewhat steady rhythm of conversation with Younghoon. Things weren’t as casual before the food came—all work, weather, and small—but the arrival (and jaw dropping reveal) of an outrageous, bestseller plate of truffle pasta had sparked a little more than a chat.

“You’re kidding, right? I was a campus journalist,” Eric said.

“No kidding here, I wrote column and opinion. What about you?”

“Sports.”

“Explains the demeanor.”

Eric exaggerated offense, which made Younghoon laugh. “I’m joking.”

“Wow.”

“Tell me something about you.”

Eric blinked. “I’m allergic to peanuts.”

“Maybe with a little more depth than anaphylactic shock.”

He did have something in mind, although probably not his proudest detail. Still, Eric liked his honesty.

“Will you believe this is my first date in about 5 years?”

Younghoon kept his eyes on him while he drank out of a glass, making Eric a little worried he’d already said too much. “Really?”

“Mm-hm.”

Younghoon grinned when he replied, “Mine, too,” and Eric felt good about that.

The first part of the date had gone a lot better than Eric had expected, and it was only three-thirty. He may not be the guy, but perhaps, Haknyeon was right about this one—it would have been stupid to have swiped left on Younghoon. For dessert, he suggested they drop by Sherbert for the gods , from which they were only about three blocks away. Some of the neatest ice cream in the city, according to Younghoon, was created, chilled, and served at the very location.

As soon as Younghoon pushed the door open for him, a classical, regency themed architecture stopped Eric in his tracks. Across from the splatter of tables and chairs was an elongated register, filled with 19 flavors of ice cream and a bar for toppings. Younghoon took him to the counter.

“Salted caramel, please,” Younghoon said.

“Vanilla for me,” Eric followed.

Younghoon eyed him incredulously. “Really?”

“What?”

“19 uniquely-conjured flavors of ice cream, and you chose vanilla ?”

Eric rolled his eyes. “What did vanilla ever do to you?”

Over at the register, a doe-eyed lady named Chaewon punched into the machine. Eric instinctively searched for his wallet, only to be stopped by Younghoon, who’d already had the bills clutched in his hand.

“3.95 for vanilla and a salted caramel,” Chaewon said, as she and Younghoon made the exchange.

“Thank you. Your place is drop dead gorgeous,” Eric pointed out, which made her smile.

“Thanks, it was my granddad’s first, and then my dad and uncle’s,” Chaewon explained. “I’m here every time I’m on break.”

“Holding down the fort all by yourself?” Younghoon asked.

“All day, all week, man. Although, my cousin’s taking over some of my later shifts now that he’s in town.”

“Heroine,” Younghoon named her, and she shrugged with a new light of pride.

The sound of a beeping watch bounced off the walls the moment Eric and Younghoon had gone to look for their seats. Chaewon muttered finally in much relief, and the chimes above the glass front door sang in unmistakable entrance.

“Thank god. My girlfriend’s been at the station for almost 20 minutes,” Chaewon sighed, undoing both her apron and ponytail.

“Go ahead, I got the rest of your hours.”

“Awesome, bye!”

Bag slung over her shoulder, she rushed out of the ice cream shop and towards peace without even sparing a glance. Back inside the restaurant, however, things had taken a less-than-ideal turn. The new voice at the register had made Eric stop in his tracks long before he could grab a seat–somewhere in the back, where all following events could have at least been avoided until closing time. He shut his eyes, knowing full well the back of his dry, blonde head had already been perceived beyond safety, and prepared himself for another dreadful interaction.

“Sunwoo?”

Except that didn’t come from Eric. What?

“Wait, Younghoon?” Sunwoo checked as a smile began to form, squinting at him from behind the register.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you in four years!” Younghoon continued, as he practically ran towards the counter and went in for a hug. “How are you?”

Four years? Younghoon had seen him even more recently, Eric thought. 

“I’m good! Just opened a bookstore in town, actually.”

He tried desperately to fight it—to internally celebrate that Sunwoo and Younghoon had noticed each other first and scurry off to a safe table in the back as originally planned—but between first date politeness and realizing that Younghoon was probably going to have them meet anyway, Eric lay helpless at the invisible magnetic force between his feet and the ground beneath Sunwoo’s.

“That is amazing. I’m actually here on a date.” Younghoon began “Sunwoo, this is—”

“Eric,” Sunwoo supplied.

Eric spared him a nonchalant nod, barely looking in his direction, already grimacing that Sunwoo had revealed their supposed secret familiarity with each other.

“You two know each other?”

“Yes!”

“No,” Eric replied, louder, later into the syllable.

Younghoon scanned them left and right, and before any more awkward questions could pull this meeting further into bedrock, Sunwoo cleared his throat.

“I mean, Eric was a Cougar, too.”

Younghoon turned to Eric in surprise. “You were a Cougar?”

Eric could feel himself physically sinking into his shirt, but the save was better than the full truth. “Yeah, we’ve–seen each other around campus a few times.”

Younghoon nodded along as he turned back to Sunwoo. “So in freshman year? You know, before you–”

“Freshman year. Yeah,” Sunwoo cut him off. 

And as if the rest of the date hadn’t already been tainted by this stupid, stupid coincidence, of course Younghoon had to offer him a seat at their table. Of course a peaceful, traditional 2-person first date wasn’t enough. Of course Kim Sunwoo did anything but respectfully decline.

Eric swirled his wooden spoon in a cup of melted vanilla, all 20 synonyms for irritated flooding his limbic system. He supposed it was a good thing he hadn’t paid for his own ice cream, or both of theirs at that, considering it was now sugary liquid with a side of an uninvited guest. Sunwoo had been watching Eric from the moment they sat down at a circular table for three, taking advantage of Younghoon’s giddiness to see him again—which had him recounting all the stories of his own golden years far past noticing Sunwoo’s divide in attention.

“Eric, this guy was worse than the Dean back at our dorms,” Younghoon began, immersed. “I mean, I was supposed to be the Big Brother, but he’d be knocking on doors if anyone dared to speak over 60 decibels after 10pm. Oh, it was crazy.”

“I’m sure,” Eric stressed with feigned laughter, patience running dangerously thin. Sunwoo nodded with a grin as he tried to avoid Younghoon’s slapping hand. He immediately decided to redirect the conversation.

“Hey, hang on so—how’s your date going?” Sunwoo asked, getting Eric’s dead eyes on him.

Younghoon perked up in his seat, glancing at Eric. “Oh, it’s great! Right, Eric?”

“Perfect.”

“We knew each other as customer and CEO before this, and then instantly clicked over lunch,” Younghoon said. “It helps that we have a lot in common.”

“You don’t say,” Sunwoo insinuated more than he asked. “Like what?”

Younghoon gave Eric a quick once-over as he started listing on his fingers. “We both have dogs whose names start with the letter B, we were both campus journalists, and we share a love of horror movies.”

“ Horror movies?” Sunwoo asked, almost bursting into laughter.

“Yeah! Hey, what did you say was your favorite, Eric?” Younghoon asked.

All eyes on him, Eric could feel the distress in his throat.

“I didn’t,” He stammered.

“Well then, tell us now,” Sunwoo pushed. Every single one of Eric’s buttons, to be exact.

Younghoon stared at Eric, blissfully unaware that it took everything in him not to crush and then stuff his vanilla-stained paper cup in Sunwoo’s mouth.

“The one with, the one with the nun,”

The one with the nun , Sunwoo mouthed silently. 

“We should all catch a movie some time, don’t you think?” Younghoon asked.

“Absolutely,” Sunwoo agreed, at the same time Eric responded, “Definitely not,” and the next few hours felt like days.

After bidding Sunwoo an unending goodbye, Younghoon stood on the pavement with Eric outside the ice cream shop, the sky cold and dark. Fog escaped his lips every time he breathed. Eric shoved his hands in his pockets and desperately wanted to head back to his apartment.

“Eric,” Younghoon called. “Think I’ll see you again soon?”

He thought about that for a few good seconds; this was a one-time thing from the start. Maybe, with only the first half of the date, it would have been a lot harder to say no , except now it felt unsurprisingly easier.

“You know what, Younghoon, I think that customer and CEO worked fine for me.”

Younghoon shrugged once in acknowledgement, and then walked off into the night. Eric let out a deep sigh. Behind him, the windchimes above the door rang, and suddenly he wasn’t alone again.

“So,” Sunwoo said. “That kind of guy?”

Fed up, but too drained to start anything further, Eric stared straight ahead. “That was low, even for you.”

Sunwoo was getting closer from behind, but not quite next to him just yet. “I was trying to get you to run. But you didn’t pick up on any of that. Or maybe you chose not to.”

“What?” Eric asked, exasperated.

“Younghoon doesn’t do relationships, or call back if he doesn’t feel like it. The truth is he kind of sucks.”

“I wasn’t looking for a relationship. At least not with him.”

“So you do have a lot in common.”

Eric shook his head. “Well, you don’t know me anymore.”

“Maybe not,” He replied, peeking over the less-than-invisible wall, taking the empty spot at Eric’s side. “But I know you’re not wasting your time on a guy who invited someone else to crash your date.”

He knew that, and that it was right, but hated that Sunwoo had said it. Without another word, he spun on his heels and marched off into the other direction.

“Where are you headed?”

“To another date,” Eric yelled back. “To the bus, obviously.”

“You mean the bus that doesn’t operate after six on Tuesdays?”

Eric was glued to the pavement. Damn it. Right again.

Walking back the way he came, Eric turned around to see Sunwoo sticking his arm out into the road and a cab stopping almost immediately for him. Sunwoo pulled the door open for him, trying to be nice, with a grin that only annoyed him further.

“It’s dangerous to walk around at night by yourself. Even in a small town.”

Eric sighed again, knowing he didn’t have much of another choice, and climbed into the backseat of the taxi. Before giving the driver his address, he rolled down his window, where Sunwoo still waited on the other side.

“Is this gonna be a thing now? Following me around, always one step ahead, pretending the last few years didn’t happen?” Eric said, unable to pick just one tone for his words.

Sunwoo held onto the roof of the cab, this time with less teasing. “I’ll see you around, Youngjae. You get home safe.”

The driver took off right on cue.

2014, April
Sunwoo’s House

“So, I’ve got Dirty Dancing, Love Actually, and Mamma Mia on DVD, too.”

“Because we’re sad hopeless romantics?” Eric disagreed. “Stop playing around and put something terrifying on!”

“I don’t know about this,” Sunwoo said, reluctantly sliding a pirated copy of The Babadook into his dad’s old DVD player. He climbed onto the couch and plopped down next to Eric, who passed him the bucket of popcorn.

“Just because I’ve never seen a scary movie,” He explained in between chewing. “Doesn’t mean I can’t handle one. I’ll probably become a junkie after this.”

“I believe you,” Sunwoo said, without a single ounce of trust.

“Hit play!”

Twenty-five minutes into the movie a pattern of teeth chattering, nail-biting, and heavy breathing had completely filled Sunwoo’s left eardrum, exactly as he’d predicted. From the opening credits he’d already been glancing over at Eric from time to time, but by now he was practically watching him instead of the screen.

Of course he knew he could have had his fun watching Eric fight for his pride, but more so that he was suddenly, unprecedentedly terrified of a film he had seen over a hundred times without fear.

“We don’t have to do this if you—”

“Well if you’re getting cold feet before the really exciting part,” Eric cut him off, getting up to eject the disk. 

Sunwoo shook his head at that and tried not to laugh too much for him to see. “If you say so, Youngjae,”

Eric rummaged through the box of DVD movies next to the television, frantically searching for a sadder, more hopelessly romantic replacement.

“Should we watch Dirty Dancing ?”

“That, or we can go to sleep,” Sunwoo said, chuckling as he began to set up camp for the night.

Eric stood up, dusting his hands with a yawn. “Yeah, sleep sounds good, too.”

Sunwoo lay flat on the retractable couch and patted the spot next to him, which Eric immediately jumped into after switching the lights off with a scream, relieved to be doing anything other than watching a horror movie. It was undeniably one of the most cramped, most uncomfortable nights of his life, but at some point Eric had subconsciously found space in Sunwoo’s arms, safe and sound from The Babadook.

8:10 AM
Home, Autumn Avenue

*ring*

Eric:
Hello?

Haknyeon:
Do not tell me you’re still at home.

Eric:
Umm.. OK, I won’t tell you that.

Haknyeon:
For the first time in three years, you are late to work. Does this mean the date went well?

Eric, yawning:
The opposite, actually. I was just up all night replaying it in my head. I guess the first few hours were OK.

Haknyeon:
What does OK mean in this context… OK as in something to mold your experience, or OK as in foreplay?

Eric:
I’m just going to go with the first one.

Haknyeon:
And what do you mean the first few hours? What happened in the next?

Eric:
Hang on, I just checked my mailbox. Heading out now. Will tell you all about it as soon as I get to the bakery.

Haknyeon:
Can’t you give me something right now? Anything?

Eric:
Try and guess who I ran into.

Haknyeon:
What? Who’d you run into?

Eric:
Sunwoo?

Haknyeon:
You what–he what now?

The last face Eric ever expected to see at his apartment was standing on the steps outside of it, a cup of coffee in one hand and his coat pocket wrapped around the other. Hair blowing in the wind, nose painted pink, a less-than-blank gaze from his eyes.

Eric:
I’m gonna have to call you back.

Eric approached Sunwoo down the stairs, beyond puzzled. “Is this because of what I said last night? No, wait–how do you know where I live?”

“You left this,” Sunwoo held up a familiar leather card holder. “At the shop last night.”

Eric’s eyes widened, but he was hit with a wave of relief. He stretched his hand out and nodded, catching the item from Sunwoo’s toss.

“Thanks… but why didn’t you just give it to me at the bakery?”

“Seemed important. Like, first thing in the morning important.”

Eric glanced at the card holder in his hands. “The bakery usually opens at 8.”

Sunwoo shrugged. “So I played it safe with 7:30.”

Realizing his bus ticket had been in the card holder, Eric couldn’t help the twinge of guilt that had overridden him. Still, he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Are you heading to the bookstore?”

Sunwoo nodded.

Sighing, Eric took the nosedive. “Come on.”

“Come on… where?”

“Renaissance, obviously. Hurry or we’ll miss the bus.”

Trailing behind him, Sunwoo put his hands back in his pockets, and kept a small smile to himself.

The 10-minute commute wasn’t particularly the venue of unwanted, uncomfortable small talk, mostly because no conversation was made at all. Not that one could be made without screaming, as Eric and Sunwoo stood on opposite sides of the bus.

Eric plugged an airpod into either ear and kept to himself next to a metal pole. Sunwoo stared out through the windows as the town he once knew like the back of his hand slipped right through his fingers, in the same attempt to catch it again. Words remained perfectly unexchanged until the bus had arrived at their shared stop: Renaissance street.

Eric dashed down the steps and onto the pavement with no intention of looking back, only to be stopped in his tracks by the lack of music in his earphones.

“Have a good day at work, Youngjae.”

With some hesitation in his system, among other things still unnamed, Eric took the polite route and replied, 

“You, too.”

11:15 AM
Pies that Bind, Renaissance Street

“Banana cream, coming right up.”

Eric punched into the register with a less-than-present mind before reaching into the display case and taking out a slice of banana cream pie—which he then transferred with his bare hands, directly onto the cold marble of the counter. The customer stared at him in disbelief.

“Whoa, do you guys not do utensils now or… you know, plates?”

“What?” Eric asked.

“My pie, dude.”

Initially in a daze, Eric glanced down at the fresh dessert on the counter, mortified as he scrambled for a plate and a new slice.

“Oh god, I apologize. I was completely out of my head.”

“All good man, maybe you just forgot your coffee today,” The customer took his slice and walked off to a nearby table.

While Eric cringed behind the register, Haknyeon stealthily approached, head filled with more questions than ever.

“First you were late to work. And then you filled a row of cream puffs with mayonnaise this morning. And then this, serving our pies in thin air. What is going on with you?”

“Can’t a guy have an off day?”

“You’re not a guy, you’re perfectionist Satan,” Haknyeon studied Eric’s distressed body language, eyes narrowing. “Was the date really that bad?”

Eric pressed two fingers against his wrinkled forehead. “No. It was just—I don’t know.”

Not the slightest bit convinced, Haknyeon prodded. “So what’s the deal with Younghoon? Is he into weird stuff like, collecting toenails or something?”

“What? No, nothing like that,” Eric shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “He was fine. Sure, I lied about some of the things we had in common, but he was a chill guy.”

“Then I don’t understand, what is the problem?”

Hesitant, Eric surveyed Haknyeon’s pre-reaction. “We ran into Sunwoo.”

“Sunwoo?” Haknyeon recounted a few key events, blinking. “The bookshop owner? Your ambiguous ghost of the past?”

“Yes. He and Younghoon knew each other, so he crashed our date, claiming he did it to save me from a walking red flag while he hailed me a cab—”

“Whoa, whoa, wait. Even Younghoon knows Sunwoo? And I still have no idea who he is?”

Sighing, Eric nodded.

“He hailed a cab for you?”

“Yeah. Because of course it slipped my mind that the bus wouldn’t come.”

Haknyeon’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to piece everything together. He swam through Eric’s lifeless narration, doing his best with what he was given.

“So you’re so distracted by Sunwoo and his mysterious connection to your life you won’t tell me about—that you’re actually messing up at work?”

“I guess?”

“Are you disappointed about Younghoon?”

“No… I don’t think so. Technically, he did invite someone to our date, which wasn’t very cool, even if I’m only in to build experience.”

Haknyeon nodded in approval and patted Eric on the back  “Good lad. What shall we do next, then?”

Eric considered that all things need not end after one less-than-ideal attempt. Fishing his phone out of an apron pocket, he began to scroll through profiles that offered more potential, to Haknyeon’s pride and delight. With more trust in Haknyeon than himself, Eric looked away as he handed over the phone.

“I don’t need any surprises this time. I mean it.”

“Uh-huh, absolutely no surprises,” Haknyeon worked his magic and the app filters like an expert.

“I just need to go out with someone who really gets me. Someone who might feel like I’ve known them before. Someone who doesn’t feel like a stranger,” Eric explained.

“We got him.”

“Already? Where? Who?”

“I can guarantee you will not be the least bit surprised with this one,” Triumphant, Haknyeon flipped the screen to an eager Eric, whose anticipation slowly morphed into horror.

Juyeon, 28. Likes performing live, The Goo Goo Dolls, and horticulture.

“I will give you three seconds to run.”

“You said you didn’t want any surprises!”

“So you swiped right on my ex-boyfriend ? Who ghosted me in a 20-second voicemail?”

Always the optimist, Haknyeon insisted. “Look at it this way! You can skip the awkward first date questions about hobbies and favorite colors. Plus, what connection to Sunwoo could he possibly have?”

Eric pondered this with hesitation, trying to hop on such irrational logic. “He probably doesn’t even remember me. Right?”

The bell notification pulled both of them back to the screen, where a message lit up in big, bold letters.

Eric Sohn? As in junior year, golden blonde hair, cigarette in the snow Eric?

Haknyeon brought a fist to his lips with a sharp breath as Eric shut his eyes, terrified that if he ever opened them again the universe would somehow find a worse device to spin the plot that was his pathetic dating life.

“So he remembers you a little! So what?”

A second bell sound revealed that Juyeon had written back before they could even come up with a response. 

“Are you free Saturday night?”

Eric swore he could eat his entire hand on the spot.

“If not for the bakery, I would kill you right now.”

Juyeon (ex)
Saturday, 8:45 PM

“Hey,”

The man of the hour materialized outside the pub Eric had agreed to revisit as a meeting place, 15 minutes after he’d said. His dark, slicked back hair was a refreshing transformation from the unkempt blue highlights and singular earring of junior year. The leather jacket suited his God-given proportions more than ever, and as Eric took these changes in he acknowledged that Juyeon’s inherent external charm had only grown since the last time they’d seen each other.

“Hi,” Eric replied.

For a good moment they just stared at each other in awkward silence, both a mirror into a number of core memories. With a sheepish chuckle and a hand on his nape, Juyeon spoke first.

“When I got your notification on the app, I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming.”

Feigning similar disbelief, Eric forced a chuckle back. “Same here.”

“You look good,” Juyeon said, which was almost enough to sweep Eric off his feet.

“Thanks. You do, too.”

Juyeon shrugged, unable to hold back a grin. He gestured at the door with his head. “Wanna head inside? I made tonight’s gig extra special for you.”

Eric sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, nodding enthusiastically against standing in the freezing weather for any longer. Before they’d made it past the steps, though, Juyeon stopped him.

“I have something for you.”

It could have been anything, really. Eric had gone through this scene a dozen times back when they were together. Juyeon reached into his jacket pocket and produced, of all the things the years could have maybe fixed, a single black rose.

“For you. Symbolic of an era that might have died, but was still beautiful.” Juyeon explained.

The only thing that prevented Eric from an irreversible facial expression he could not have explained with kindness, was the debilitating cold. Haknyeon was right about there being no surprises, some things really never changed.

Late in the winter after Changmin’s glee club fling had been promoted to his boyfriend, Haknyeon dragged a devastated Eric to the nearest bar in town in the hopes of lifting his spirits. Eric had just aced the light out of midterms, but was in no mood nor condition to celebrate. He never liked parties, but this one had just been ridiculously overstimulating. Lasers in all directions, bad music at volumes designed to disintegrate your eardrums, how it had reeked of alcohol and vomit and despair all at once. When Haknyeon had fortunately been pulled into the crowd, Eric took the opportunity to escape through the back door.

Outside, in similar negative temperatures, Eric searched for oxygen to no avail. Desperately, he reached into his pocket for his worst habit and stuck it between his teeth. He scrambled for a lighter, only to realize he had left it in his other coat, back at the dorms. Eric leaned against the brick wall and sighed, sending a cloud of fog into the night air, wondering if he was meant for anything at all.

“Need a spark?” came the voice of a stranger, which put him on alert.

The first time Eric saw Juyeon he was certain he had been dreaming. He smelled of a strange mix of cigarette smoke, vanilla extract, and snow if it had a scent. Normally he would have politely declined and walked off, but something about having no control over anything was enough to change course for one night. And eventually, for about five months.

Juyeon wasn’t Changmin. But around him Eric could feel the ground under his feet. He was charismatic, different, and of course— deeply , deeply in touch with his emotions. In the beginning Eric had attributed it to his artistry and insolent obsession with The Goo Goo Dolls, but at some point his dorm room had run out of space for single black roses. Then came finals week and, right in the middle of it, the 20-second voicemail in which Juyeon declared his undying commitment to music, that required his unfortunate independence. 

Eric mailed a box of his things back to Juyeon, cried himself to sleep for three weeks, and then moved forward with an incomprehensible ghost of something and nothing at the same time.

Because Juyeon wasn’t Changmin. Just like Changmin wasn’t—

“Hey, everybody, thanks for coming to see us tonight!”

Scattered applause met sharp feedback that bounced off the walls, bringing everyone’s hands to their ears. A single bottle shattered from behind the register.

“Sorry about that—technical difficulties,” Juyeon spoke into the mic, which caused another string of feedback to fill the room. “OK, you know what, we would really appreciate your patience while we take care of this.”

Eric swirled and stared blankly at his glass of beer, trying hard to remember if he used to genuinely enjoy Juyeon’s band’s music, or was always too distracted by the volume and fog machines to notice if it was bad. Then the first few notes of the band’s strange, discotheque-ballad hybrid setlist squeezed out of the dysfunctional speaker, and Eric had his answer.

The sound of his own name interrupted his boredom. But it wasn’t remotely close to Juyeon’s voice.

“Youngjae?”

About two tables southeast stood, yet again, the date crasher of the year, dressed to the occasion so well it was almost ridiculous. Eric couldn’t help but notice his lack of company and the single, identical glass he had in his possession. Under different circumstances he would have argued that it was the distracting lighting that had almost made him forget he was here for Juyeon.

After a few moments of quiet, curious staring, it was Sunwoo who finally approached.

“Didn’t expect to see you here .”

“I could definitely say the same thing about you.”

Sunwoo nodded, gesturing to Eric’s drink. “You got company?”

Racking his brain for a reasonable excuse, Eric choked. “In a… way.”

Before either of them could say more, Juyeon’s voice boomed through the now-working microphone. “We put on an extra special show because I have a very special guest in the audience tonight. Whether a past lover or a current date, you will always be the greatest muse of my lyrics. Eric , this is for you.”

Caught in the blinding glow of a singular stage light and the attention of the entire room, especially Sunwoo’s, Eric took a shot of whiskey and prayed for a lightning strike in his direction. Thankfully the lead guitarist set off on an electric adventure of an intro before Sunwoo could ask about the stupid black rose.

An unexpected encounter
Strung together by fate
This seems like a good idea
Do I really have to say it?

Eric hailed a waiter from a few tables away carrying a tray full of whiskey glasses. Juyeon’s deathly cheesy lyrics were never really his style.

You’re a perfect ten
The apple of my plain eye
What’ve you done to me?
You make me want to try

But you need too much
You and your validation
Chasing grades and spotlights
Never enough attention

The stage lights bounced off the tabletops in hues of indigo. Sunwoo’s focus had quietly shifted from the live band to Eric at his side, whose heart started to drum erratically.

At the very least
I still know how to have fun
While you’re crying like a baby
Thinking you’d lost the one

Eventually, it wasn’t so much the godawful lyrics that drove Eric out of there as it was that Juyeon had pointed him out for everyone to see beforehand, and even more that he’d decided to go on this date at all. He downed his drink, slammed it empty on the table, and took off through the back door with his coat while the crowd chased him with their stares. Out in the cold, his eyes burned with tears and the icy air felt like daggers.

“Eric,” came from behind him, but he kept walking. “Eric, wait!”

“What?” He yelled.

“It was an old song, OK? It was just lyrics,” Juyeon explained pathetically, still high on the applause and visibly tipsy. “Artists need outlets, you know. Don’t go.”

“I don’t care how old the song is. Why would you pick tonight to play it?” Eric snapped.

“So that you could hear it, of course.”

Bewildered beyond words, Eric stared right through Juyeon’s impossible gaze in near amusement.

“You’re just as stupid as you were when we dated.”

Juyeon took one of his hands and ran out of things to say. “Why don’t we just head back inside and start over? We haven’t really hung out, Eric. Give this a shot, will you?”

Once again, Eric confirmed what he had always known. He slid Juyeon’s hand off of his, nothing clearer than the path ahead.

“I think I should go, Juyeon. Thanks for agreeing to meet. Good luck with the rest of your show.”

Eric stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to walk away, but Juyeon had been extra persistent under the influence. He gripped onto Eric’s arm and pulled him back in his direction, nearly causing him to fall.

“Juyeon, let go of me,” Eric said in a firm, hushed tone, glaring up at him.

“You haven’t even given this date a chance,” Juyeon half said, half slurred.

“Agreeing to this date was beyond me. Now let go of me or I’m going to scream and cause a scene.”

Ignoring him, Juyeon grabbed hold of Eric’s other arm. With his height and build, he had completely locked Eric in his grasp. At one point Eric realized this tall, intoxicated man was about to try and kiss him, so he mustered all the volume in his body to yell, only to find Juyeon immediately knocked down on the snow with a bruised cheek he couldn’t have caused.

“God… damn it,” Sunwoo winced, shaking the sharp pain out of his hand.

Unable to process anything, Eric stood back and stared at him, towering over a fallen Juyeon like it was nothing. Towering over anyone at all.

Juyeon brought a finger to his lip that had burst and observed the fresh shade of blood. He tried to get up, his eyes dark on Sunwoo, but he was so nauseated his head rang when he moved. Instinctively, Sunwoo stood as a barrier between them, grossed out by how pathetic the whole sight was.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Sunwoo asked when he finally turned around, inspecting Eric from head to toe.

Eric shook his head, still frozen from the shock.

“Are you OK?”

Eric nodded.

“Forget this place. Come on.”

Sunwoo sat on a lone park bench by an orange tree, high above the city, stretching his fingers in and out as much as he could. He stared at the discoloration in his knuckles and exhaled. In a few moments, Eric had reappeared from the convenience store behind said bench, and held out a cup of ice. Sunwoo eyed the item, and then Eric.

“Here. For your hand,” Eric said without looking, not knowing how to say thank you.

“Thanks.”

Eric took a seat near the opposite edge of the bench, an arm away from Sunwoo, and kept his hands in his pockets. Sunwoo grimaced as the ice made contact with his bruise.

“Does it hurt?” Eric asked.

“Does punching a guy with those cheekbones hurt?” Sunwoo said, in honesty. “Yeah, Youngjae, it stings a little bit.”

For the smallest millisecond, Eric caught himself smile.

“Why’d you go out to see that guy, anyway? His music is terrible.”

Eric sighed. “Big mistake. I’ve been making a lot of those.”

Sunwoo raised a curious eyebrow.

“What were you doing in that old pub?” Eric retaliated, finally meeting his eyes.

Sunwoo only smiled, before returning to the literal ice on his wrist. “Nothing wrong with mistakes, even big ones. There are no failed experiences; only ones to win and ones to learn from.”

This time, Eric stared while Sunwoo looked away, illuminated in the convenience store lighting. In the four years he’d known him, Eric had never heard of Sunwoo throwing a punch, let alone against a much bigger person. Or in defense of someone else. So much had happened in a night that he’d almost forgotten about their own, ambiguous situation. 

“Did you really take up witchcraft to make sure I never came back?” Sunwoo asked, more as a joke.

For once, the question didn’t catch Eric so off guard.

“No,” He replied. “I was taught to never mess with the dark arts.”

The slightest hint of a joke back, however, found Sunwoo unarmed.

“How are you getting home? Surely you know the bus isn’t running this late, right?” Sunwoo asked.

Eric blinked, glancing at his watch. “I’ll get going when your ice has melted. So I know you’ve iced it for long enough.”

Sunwoo nodded, and kept quiet as he grinned. “Alright, then.”

The next few minutes passed in radio silence.

2016, September
The Bench

“I’m going to drop out of school.”

“You’re not going to drop out of school.”

“I’m going to drop out of school, be unemployed for the rest of my life, and die alone.”

The road ahead seemed to grow longer and longer as Sunwoo’s sweat dripped down the side of his face, carrying a drunken, depressed Eric on his back.

“It was one test, Youngjae. One bad score won’t kill you.”

“Except it will,” Eric slurred, arms limp around Sunwoo’s neck. “Because I will jump off of the first roof I see.”

Sunwoo heaved, adjusting with difficulty. “You can’t do that. What about the sexy upperclassmen? Who’s gonna break the news to them, and then replace you?”

“You’re right. I can’t let Jacob see me like this.” Eric said, before dropping onto Sunwoo’s shoulder.

“That’s the spirit,” Sunwoo squinted, the path almost fading into a complete blur. Luckily for him, a single wooden bench by an orange tree came into view. “Thank god.”

Carefully, he sat Eric down on the bench, all out of breath, and then took the seat next to him. Sunwoo reached for the handkerchief inside his pocket to wipe sweat away when Eric’s head had landed right on his shoulder, mumbling in a language of his own. He glanced at the hair that had fallen over Eric’s eyes, and sighed.

“This won’t do,” Sunwoo whispered, to no one in particular, and hung his head low in defeat. “This won’t do, Youngjae.”

He made an attempt to brush Eric’s hair out of his forehead, but Eric had jumped awake without warning. Eric stared at Sunwoo in a daze, blinking.

“What? Are you sober, or something?” Sunwoo teased.

“I’m not gonna get a PhD, or open a small bookstore, and I’m gonna die alone,” Eric declared.

Sunwoo chuckled. “You’re gonna get your PhD because you’re going to learn from this one test you failed. Next time you’ll know what to do better, right?”

Eric frowned and slumped in his seat, eyes trained on the handkerchief clutched in Sunwoo’s hand. “I guess.”

“And what’s all this about dying alone?”

“Nobody’s ever gonna love me,” Eric declared. “Nobody even likes me.”

“I like you,” Sunwoo said.

Eric looked up at him, and frowned even more. “Yeah, but you’re Sunwoo, so you don’t count.”

From inside of his head, Sunwoo wanted to argue that he counted the most.

“You’re going to get a PhD, open a small bookstore, and not die alone.”

“You promise?” Eric asked, with all the trust in the world, only centimeters away from Sunwoo’s face.

Although his heartbeat threatened to climb out through his throat, Sunwoo smiled like the brave soldier he was, and took Eric’s hand in his own.

“I promise.”

11:34 PM
Home, Autumn Avenue

Eric unlocked the door to his apartment without much in mind, and yet every thought in the world.

He scoured the pantry for a non-expired teabag, and then set up some hot water in a kettle. While waiting, he stepped into the emptiness of his room, and reached for a chest under his bed he never imagined he’d be opening in years. It took him a second or two, but after a weighted breath, the lock clicked open.

Inside the box lived more than memories; an entirely different lifetime in tangible objects. A makeshift Halloween cape, a dusty DVD copy of The Babadook , a dried up leaf that mysteriously turned up in his pocket one day, a pile of letters, a carnival-won stuffed elephant, polaroids that seemed to know no end. 

Eric stared down into the repository of the past and felt his knees grow weak against the hardwood floor. He carefully picked up something lost in the corner, and sat, leaning on his mattress. Outside, the tea kettle began to whistle, but he couldn’t hear it if he tried. 

Eric leafed through a stack of unsent birthday cards tied together by old twine, in the flicker of a broken street lamp through the window of his otherwise completely dim room, and cried.

Monday, 4:19 PM
Pies that Bind, Renaissance Street

“Oh, crud !” rang Haknyeon’s voice loud and clear, followed by an angry chorus of pots and pans.

Eric rushed into the kitchen with a broom in hand to find Haknyeon on his bottom and their cooking utensils all over the floor. He pushed through the mess to help Haknyeon up.

“What happened in here?” Eric asked.

“Stupid… stick of butter,” Haknyeon explained in between winces. “I slipped beyond salvation. Thank you, God, for giving me this ass.”

Eric isolated the damaged butter before it caused any more workplace injury. He put it down on the counter, where he also discovered their lone cookbook drenched in hot oil. With a pair of rubber tongs, he held up what was left of their masterlist of recipes.

“Oh, and I may have flung our Bible into the fryer,” Haknyeon said, sheepishly.

Staring hopelessly at the recipe book in ruins, Eric sighed. Haknyeon noticed, and quickly offered himself up for the job.

“I will totally get a new one,” Haknyeon said with a hand on his back, bent out of shape. “Just let me grab my coat and—”

“Don’t be silly, Hak,” Eric interjected. “I’ll replace it. Take your break and phone someone to come in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hundred percent,” Eric assured.

The door before him appeared impossibly massive; almost like it would take all the willpower in the world to push open. Eric watched the register through the glass window, which was currently manned by a teenage part-timer with more things to worry about on her phone. There were four or five other customers swimming in and out of the shelves. Just have to do it and get out of there, Eric thought. So he did.

Nothing was so unordinary about The Raven’s Corner . It had a rustic, minimalist interior, rows of bookshelves on a carpeted floor, and even a cozy little reading corner with bean bag seats. Eric admitted he was a little jealous. He’d always wanted to open a bookstore of his own, complete with its own comfortable place to read, the warmest lighting, and a small section to shelve his personal favorite collection.

Lost in the arrays of pre-loved books, he didn’t notice the pair of eyes mirroring him on the other side of the shelf until it came with a voice.

“Anything in particular?” Sunwoo asked, startling Eric. 

Then he lost his footing, crashing into the shelf behind him. Sat awkwardly on the floor, a single book fell on his head. Sunwoo rushed to his side.

“A helmet would be nice,” Eric groaned.

“You should really be more careful. Don’t you know bookshelves are deadlier than sharks?” Sunwoo said, a hand over the spot on Eric’s head.

“I need a cookbook.”

“A cookbook?”

“Yeah, a temporary fix until we can recreate our recipes on paper.”

Sunwoo scanned the floor, his hand still Eric’s bandage, and picked up the very book that caused the unanticipated injury.

“What about this one?”

Eric blinked to get his eyes focused on the cover of a pre-loved 99 Ways to Bake a Cake , before nodding, and then taking it.

At the register, Sunwoo carefully wrapped the recipe book in recycled newspaper and stuffed it into a small paper bag. Eric scrambled for a loose dollar in his pocket, still mildly nauseated from the mess with the bookshelf. Before he could pull one out, though, Sunwoo handed him the book.

“Customers who are injured in or due to our establishment are entitled to a free purchase.” 

Eric stared long and hard at the book in Sunwoo’s hand as the words vibrated through his ears.

“You don’t have to. I’m fine, really.”

“Take it. On the house.”

“I don’t want to owe you anything.”

There was a pause, almost tangible. Eric was serious about that.

“Okay, then I won’t take your money,” Sunwoo said, locking the cash register. “You can pay me down at the pier.”

“What?”

The pier was about a 5-minute walk downtown, where the annual Christmas carnival had these old-school booths set up along the waterside. Eric found himself dragged to one of them, stared down by rows of box-cut clowns almost laughing in his face. He grimaced.

“Step right up, hundred points, five shots in a row to win a grand prize!”

“What am I doing here, Sunwoo?”

Sunwoo pointed to a large stuffed elephant in the furthest row, suspended from the ceiling. “Win me that and we’ll call it even.”

“Can’t you just take my money?”

“Step right up, one dollar a turn, win a grand prize!”

Sunwoo shrugged, taking the bill out from Eric’s pocket. “What, are you worried you won’t win?”

The exasperation in Eric’s eyes immediately turned to an intense shade of fire. He threw the dollar into the bank, picked up and aimed the toy gun at the miniature 20-point cardboard clowns making fun of him, and took his shot.

They sat on the edge of the dock a few minutes to sunset. Wind blew through the strings of LED lights hung along the booths as more people came to see the carnival. The stuffed elephant lay triumphantly in Sunwoo’s lap, while Eric bit into a half-finished corndog.

“This guy will fit right into the children’s section at the bookstore,” Sunwoo said.

Eric stared at the elephant. “Of all payment modes, you chose a stuffed animal?”

“Of course, I did. Little dude reminds me of old times.”

The air sunk into this silence that made Eric’s stomach churn. He watched the water beneath him, the sea breeze sweeping his hair to the side.

“What are you doing here, Sunwoo?”

Sunwoo blinked at Eric, fluffing the elephant. “Receiving my payment, I thought we just went over that.”

“No, what are you doing back here? Why did you come back?”

As expected, he would never give him a straight answer. Or the one he needed. Instead, like he always did, Sunwoo looked away.

“To keep a promise.”

“Does keeping your promise kind of… erase everything that happened while you were gone?”

“Youngjae,”

“Eric,” he corrected, the situation so laughable. “It’s funny because I had just gotten so used to everything. But now you’ll stop by the bakery for cupcakes and I’ll buy a cookbook from your store.”

Some of the toy machines resounded in the background as the glow of the carnival lights crawled the dock. For someone with all the unconventional ideas in the world, Eric couldn’t believe Sunwoo was silent.

“I’ll take a different route to the bank, hide between the aisles at the supermarket, walk on the opposite side of the street. Take the train instead of the bus.”

“You live here. You don’t have to avoid me.”

Eric nodded, chuckling dryly. “You’re right, I don’t. I just have to get used to the idea that sometimes I’ll see you on an ordinary Tuesday, completely oblivious behind the glass window of your bookstore, and find myself back on the same front porch you left me. Without warning. Or an explanation. Not even a goodbye.”

“Eric,” Sunwoo tried to interject, but Eric had already gotten up.

“I should get back in time for closing.”

By the time Eric returned to the bakery, there was barely any sunlight left over the horizon. He pushed through the door with weighted steps, flipping the “open” sign to “closed” with a few minutes left on the clock.

“There you are,” Haknyeon said, emerging from the kitchen. “What took you so long?”

Eric climbed into the register space and began clearing the pastries in the display case. “I took a walk.”

“When have you ever taken a walk?” Haknyeon asked. “Nevermind. Did you get a cookbook?”

The display case slammed shut. The cookbook .

“I… left it at the store,” Eric said, running a hand down his face. On the far side of the counter, his phone buzzed.

“Well relax, we can pick it up tomorrow. Your phone’s been making that weird noise while you were out.” Haknyeon said on the way back into the kitchen.

Brows furrowed, Eric set the tray of treats down and walked over to his phone. He shook his head to discover the buzzing had come from the stupid dating app he had nearly forgotten all about. And, according to his topmost notification, a potential match had just swiped right on his profile. Reluctantly, Eric clicked on the app.

And then, he saw it.

“Haknyeon,”

“What?” He yelled from the kitchen.

“Changmin,”

“No, you were right the first time. It’s Haknyeon.”

“No, Changmin swiped right on me.”

Haknyeon rushed out of the kitchen with a towel around his hands dripping in water. “You’re shitting me.”

Eric stared at the phone, not even sure how to react. “He’s just asked if I’m free Thursday night.”

“So answer the guy!” Haknyeon urged.

“With what?”

Perplexed, Haknyeon took matters (and the phone) into his own hands. Of course I’m free , he typed. A response came within milliseconds.

Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Hyde. :)

“Well look alive, trooper,” Haknyeon said, tossing Eric’s phone back to him. “You’ve just won yourself a date with Ji Changmin.”

2015, November
The Pier

It was freezing out when Sunwoo made an unanticipated landing at the carnival entrance, mountains of assigned readings all neglected on his desk the moment Eric barged into his room. He swore he tried to fight back, but also knew there was no winning.

“Ta-da!” Eric announced, receiving a less-than-enthusiastic response.

“Youngjae, what are we doing here?”

“What do you mean? It’s a fair. We can do anything we want.”

Sunwoo watched a grown bearded man slam a hammer onto a meter in the far end of the carnival booths. The machine erupted in victory bells as a striped staff member handed the man a stuffed unicorn, which he handed to a little girl.

“So, what do you want to do first?” Eric pushed.

“My shitload of homework,” Sunwoo answered.

“Come on, your mom says you barely leave your room anymore. Your routine is going to kill you before having fun will.”

Eric had Sunwoo’s attention immediately. “What, did she put you up to this?”

“Not… necessarily. I may have planted the idea in her head first.”

But before Sunwoo could violently protest, Eric had dragged him to the nearest booth.

“Step right up, hundred points, five shots in a row to win a grand prize!”

Sunwoo shot Eric a glare, which he dismissed, urgently directing him to the grand prize hanging from the ceiling. He tried to leave twice, but Eric’s grip on his arm was like an iron padlock.

“You see that elephant in the back?”

Reluctantly, Sunwoo nodded.

“If you win me that, I’ll let you go.”

Sunwoo immediately armed himself with the loaded pellet gun, loosening his shoulders. “For real? I can go home?”

“One hundred percent,” Eric replied, tossing seventy-five cents into the bucket.

“Easiest win ever,” Sunwoo predicted as he aimed the gun at the target.

By the end of his tenth turn without a single hit, let alone a hundred points, several of the most irritable, impatient children on the planet had flocked to his side. Sunwoo paid them no mind, immensely locked in on the targets as if he was making any shots.

“I will give you six-thousand dollars to stop playing,” Eric said, lifeless at his side.

Drenched in sweat in spite of the cold, Sunwoo fished into his jacket pocket and produced a single silver coin—his penultimate chance of winning. He kissed it with a Hail Mary, tossed it blindly into the bank, and reloaded the gun. The entire continent held its breath.

Four wooden bullseyes, all hit by some act of God, and all he had to do to win the elephant was shoot down the last clown. The longer he stared at it the more it seemed to laugh in his face. So, without a second thought, a pellet was launched directly in its red nose, bagging the final twenty points Sunwoo needed.

Ding-ding-ding-ding , sang the machinery.

It was then and there that Sunwoo lost his mind, jumping up and down on the boardwalk with a bunch of kids, screaming like no tomorrow. The employee handed over his prize, the perfect toy elephant, which he gifted to its rightful owner. Eric shoved the stuffed animal out of the way to wrap his arms around Sunwoo’s neck, all high on the long-awaited victory to notice anything else. 

It was also then and there that Sunwoo had glitched, his arms hovered behind Eric’s waist like a broken robot, and the exact feeling in his chest that had frozen the world around him, he presumed, was indefinitely between him and time.

Changmin
Thursday, 7:15 PM

Eric reckoned he had never prepared for anything like this in his life. He once paid a fortune teller to pick a college major that best suited his aura, shot a dart into a roulette blindfolded for a thesis paper, and here he was wringing his entire wardrobe dry for a potential clothing combination one of his dearest friends had never seen before. It was all fun and games and nerves until he came to the last shirt in his closet—his old press uniform, now three sizes too small. 

He sighed in defeat on the floor, already reaching for his phone. Without missing a beat, a text message that read Coming over from Haknyeon illuminated his lock screen.

In ten minutes, Haknyeon had completely changed up Eric’s look, who was now sitting in front of the mirror with enough makeup and hair product to make him look like a living human being.

Haknyeon squeezed his shoulders in support. “What is with your face? You’ve been waiting for this date since junior year.”

“I don’t know,” Eric replied, staring back at his own reflection. “It just feels kind of strange now that it’s actually happening. What are we even going to talk about? Politics? The price of oil?”

“Everyone is nervous before a date,” Haknyeon said.

“Well, everyone is not going on a date with their best friend and longtime crush,” Eric argued, his last words trailing off.

Haknyeon bent down, his head now closer to Eric’s in the mirror. “Exactly, idiot. Not everyone is so lucky. Now get out of here and go on the best date of your life. Call me about it after, okay?”

“Yeah,” Eric agreed. “No, you’re right. It’s just bloody nerves.”

Before anything else could derail this date, Haknyeon forced him out of his seat and out the door, offering to stay over until he got back. Seconds later, Eric reappeared.

“What, what is it? Why are you still here?”

“Can you call me an Uber? It’s kind of dark out,” Eric said.

Haknyeon shook his head, typing into his phone.

At 7:45, Eric arrived at the nice restaurant Changmin had recommended. The place was littered in gold and silver and flowers and champagne, and Eric suddenly worried his light blue button-down made him underdressed. He spent the better part of being fifteen minutes early adjusting his hair, checking his reflection in the back of a spoon, even practicing how to talk to someone he’s known as long as Haknyeon. At exactly 8 o’clock, Changmin pushed through the glass entrance, waving when he spotted Eric. 

On his way over to their table, Eric couldn’t help but stare. Changmin was always stunning, even in the tracksuits he wore so often because of his job, which made his present appearance with a neatly ironed coat and properly combed hair so fever dreamlike.

Changmin took the seat in front of him after what felt like an eternity watching him walk in. This was really happening.

“Eric Sohn?” Changmin joked.

Eric, rolling his eyes, did the same. “Ji Changmin?”

Changmin chuckled, the air between them just the slightest bit of new and awkward.

“And here I thought you didn’t miss me,” Changmin finally said, before the ice of a first date was naturally broken.

Their food arrived no later then ten minutes after they’d ordered; two plates of ribeye, two bowls of pumpkin soup, and one large potato salad for sharing, like they’d always done before. Eric noted that being on a fancy date with Changmin did not stray far from getting drinks at Chocolate City with him. They caught up on basic work and life and weather updates, but not much has changed in the last month. At least not for Changmin.

“So, everything good at the bakery?” Changmin asked, stuffing his face with mashed potatoes.

“Yeah, no, the usual,” Eric sipped a glass of champagne. “Oh, except we had to recreate our recipe book from scratch because Haknyeon slipped on his ass and landed our old one in hot oil.”

Changmin nearly burst out laughing. “No way. Jesus.”

“My exact reaction when I found him on the floor,” Eric said.

“Do you remember when we got robbed on the way to that music festival in 2019, and had to hitchhike with a bunch of hippie stoners?” Changmin suddenly asked, still chuckling at the thought of poor Haknyeon.

“Are you kidding?” Eric said. “That story is how I plan to teach my grandkids not to get off at the wrong bus stop.”

Changmin laughed hard. “The three of us squished into the backseat, the entire car basically a gas chamber, and that—that song by the Bee Gees on the radio,”

“More Than A Woman,” Eric nodded, also laughing.

“More Than A Woman!” Changmin clapped. “Every time I hear that song in the supermarket or something, I get this PTSD.”

“I know. We were such…”

“College kids,” Changmin agreed. “I miss Hak.”

Eric scoffed. “Didn’t you guys see that musical last week? You always miss us so badly.” 

“Something like that, yeah,” Changmin smiled, a single dimple peeking out of his cheek, and Eric physically felt himself blush.

They talked about college and life for what felt like hours, and although Eric loved any kind of Changmin’s company, he was beginning to feel restless anticipating the real, scary first date conversation. It wasn’t like the stuff they were talking about didn’t fall under the category, just that Eric hoped they would eventually talk about the stupid dating app, the next steps, why Changmin swept right on him at all, and everything in between.

“Yesterday a kid in my class challenged me to a race around the court, so I gave her a head-start. She absolutely destroyed me, and now the rest of the kids won’t let me forget it,” Changmin told Eric.

Barely even hearing the story, Eric opened his mouth to kick the conversation into a different direction, but a waiter came to the table before anything disastrous could happen at his hands.

“More champagne?” The waiter asked. 

“Ooh, yes please,” Changmin replied, holding his glass out.

Eric watched as the bubbles quickly rose to the rim, wrestling with his own thoughts.

“And you, monsieur ?” The waiter was looking at him now.

“Uh,” Eric said. “Sure. Please, and thank you.”

“My pleasure. Should the lovely couple require anything else, feel free to ring me,”

And then the waiter was gone, and here Changmin was enjoying his champagne without the slightest reaction to the lovely couple bit, and Eric was teetering on the edge.

“So how’s dating been since joining the app?”

Changmin’s attention immediately on him, Eric nearly suffocated. But all Changmin did was laugh.

“Not as different from traditional dating as I thought, actually. Though I’ve only been on a few dates and even fewer good ones,” Changmin explained.

“Really?” Eric said, a mix of curious and slightly jealous and overall nervous. “What were they, you know, like?”

Changmin paused to think, not nearly as uncomfortable as Eric in his seat. “Well, there was this big shot finance guy, Jaehyun. He was hot, and had a throbbing ego to match it. Wouldn’t shut up about his masters degree and vacation house in Tampa.”

Eric grimaced, hyperfocused on the fact that one of Changmin’s dates was not only hot, but loaded. “Sounds like hell.”

“Oh, it was,” Changmin fed himself a spoonful of potato salad, continuing. “I also went on a few dates with this artist named Chanhee. He was different from Jaehyun in a number of ways, but mainly I guess because of how in touch he was with his emotions.”

Eric had to hold himself back from throwing up at the mental image of Juyeon.

“And my most recent date, this dude in advertising who really liked bread. Younghoon.”

If the artist dude was a reminder, that made Eric nearly drop his jaw on the linoleum floor.

“Sweet at first, cute the entire time, and then when he pulls the I’m not really a relationship kinda guy on you, I can’t help but wonder if he’s just straight,” Changmin’s own sentiment made him laugh, sipping more champagne. “So what about you? I didn’t even know you were on a dating app!”

Shifting restlessly in his seat, Eric did his best to laugh it off. “Yeah no, you just made it sound so interesting the first time. I have also… only been on a couple dates.” 

He hoped the conversation would stop there, but Changmin just stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Um, well, I went on a date with a regular at the bakery . And also a guy in a band ,” Eric said. “He invited me to one of his shows and everything.”

“Wasn’t one of your exes also in a band?” Changmin asked, looking to the ceiling in hopes of remembering said ex’s name while Eric hoped he wouldn’t. “Juyeon?”

“Yes,” Eric answered, almost in pain. “That is… correct.”

Changmin nodded, putting his hands together. “Well, I think your profile made you an absolute magnet. You chose your pictures so well. Blue really makes your eyes sparkle, you know?”

So much blood immediately rushed to Eric’s face he thought he was running a fever. He struggled to meet Changmin’s eyes, a regular occurrence, feeling overflowing pride in himself and gratitude for Haknyeon choosing his pictures for him. When he gained the courage to look Changmin in the eye, he was already staring back, his smile as radiant as the sun and his company always like Eric’s old favorite place on campus, the library—comfortable. He felt perfectly fine. 

And yet, something so persistent in his chest he could not understand, right in the middle of the moment he had been waiting for forever, made everything else feel all wrong. 

“You know, at the grocery store yesterday,” Changmin started, the rest of his voice kind of fading into the background noise.

Eric let Changmin distract him. Take him far away into a sea of his stories. Essentially hypnotize him with the sound of his voice and the idea of his heart. Pull him away from his own thoughts, fill him with enough hope so he didn’t need to feel how empty he really was.

And, when the windchimes at the entrance rang and the door had been pushed open by a man he would recognize from any distance, now obviously frazzled at the reception desk, Eric had no idea why he got up from his seat.

“Youngjae,” Eric heard, meeting his eyes and his stride halfway.

“What are you doing here?”

Out of breath, Sunwoo struggled. But he held firm. “When did you lose your phone?”

“I didn’t lose my phone, it’s in my pocket.”

“Not that phone,” Sunwoo said, hesitated for a second, and then went in. “Your old phone with the green casing. After I left. When did you lose it?”

Sunwoo’s gaze bore into Eric’s resolve, testing him beyond preparation. And Eric struggled to tell him to leave. To sit back at the table and continue his date with Changmin. To make the obvious choice.

“The same day… why are you asking me this now?”

Sunwoo deflated. 

At some point Changmin had gotten up, right by Eric’s side to see what all the commotion was about. “Well who’s this date crasher?”

Ignoring him, Sunwoo asked again. “Did you change your number when you got a new one?”

“I’m sorry, Changmin, just give me one second,” Eric said, before turning back to Sunwoo. “Where is this coming from?”

“Please, Youngjae, just answer. It’s important.”

Then and there, Eric decided he had never seen Sunwoo so troubled in all the years he had known him. Despite being naturally impulsive, Sunwoo would never storm a restaurant and crash someone’s date for answers. 

“I—lost my phone while looking for you. I had to wait at least a week for a new one, and I’d forgotten my old number,” Eric said, the memory still stinging. “So I changed it.”

Sunwoo started shaking his head, as if in disbelief. He wanted to say more, but was interrupted by Changmin.

“Hey, man, sorry but we’re also kind of in the middle of something so if you could just get to the point,” Changmin tried.

When Sunwoo had finally gotten a good look at Changmin, Eric’s date, something tugged at his thoughts. And then it clicked.

“You,” Sunwoo pointed at Changmin, eyes growing dark. “You bought a book.”

“A book?” Changmin asked.

“You were at the bookstore, making small talk about your next round of dates while I wrapped your book in newspaper,” Sunwoo’s voice shook a little, almost out of fury.

Eric’s restlessness was about to skyrocket. “Sunwoo, what is going on with you?”

Without another word to Changmin, Sunwoo grabbed Eric’s wrist and took him by surprise. “You need to get out of here. This date is not for you. This is not the date you deserve.”

Sunwoo pulled Eric towards him, already headed for the exit, but Eric broke his hand free. “ You need to leave. You can’t just ruin someone’s date, you can’t—show up unannounced, you can’t do whatever you want.”

“Youngjae, please let me explain outside,”

Eric shook his head, shutting his eyes. He tried to cover up how weak his voice had become. “Just go, Sunwoo.”

Behind him, two security guards began to approach. Sunwoo glanced back at Eric, already settling back into his seat, and followed them out. With Sunwoo gone, Eric felt a burning pain in his chest no amount of champagne could relieve.

“You okay?” Changmin asked after a moment.

“I’m fine,” Eric lied.

Changmin nodded, glancing out the window. “What a strange guy, do you know him?”

Eric stared at a loose thread in the tablecloth instead of Changmin, thinking about how to say yes.

“No, I don’t.”

The air filled with silence. Changmin picked at his food until the same waiter returned to refill their drinks.

“Bit of a bummer, though, I will say,” Changmin said suddenly, a growing smile on his face.

Eric put down his fork, feeling apologetic. “What is?”

“Well, if that guy wasn’t so strange,” Changmin replied. “He was actually kind of cute.”

Eric blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, no, I mean for you!” Changmin explained, now fully laughing. “I would have set you up with him. First prospect of the night.”

Eric’s discomfort seeped through his forced laughter. “What are you talking about? Why would you set me up with anyone on our date?”

Changmin’s smile faltered. “Aren’t we—isn’t that what we’re doing? Having a friends’ night out to look for potential dates?”

Something about Sunwoo’s earlier comment drove a spear into Eric’s side. He swallowed, kind of wanting to throw up.

“Did you actually buy a book recently?”

“A book?” Changmin tried to laugh, but Eric stared into him, dead serious. “Yeah, I… bought a self-help book at the store near your bakery.”

Eric waited for the ceiling to fall in or lightning to strike, but none of it came. All that was left of this date was the idea of Changmin he had been so infatuated with, sitting right in front of him. He waited for a crash out, a tantrum, a frustrated profession of love, but there was nothing. Eric felt absolutely nothing.

Sighing, he took two hundred dollars out of his wallet and quietly slid it on the table.

“But,” Changmin stammered. “Where are you going?”

“I’m sorry, Changmin,” Eric said, truthfully. “I need to leave.”

Out in the night the icy wind threatened to turn Eric’s tears into permanent scars. He brushed them off his face and walked with no way of knowing where he was headed, just that he needed to get out of there.

“Youngjae,” came out of nowhere, along with the sound of footsteps starting from the bench just outside the restaurant.

Twice. Thrice. Until it became “Eric,” and he’d stopped in his tracks, spinning on his heels.

“What kind of sociopath do you have to be,” Eric spat. “To crash someone’s date three times?”

In his defense, Sunwoo said, “You’re the one who walked out of the restaurant.”

“Because you came here!” Eric’s eyes filled with hot tears, frustrated to the bottom of his heart. “How did you even know where to find me?”

“I’d been looking for you. At the bakery, and then at your place, where I spoke to Haknyeon,”

“Haknyeon?” Eric laughed bitterly. “Wow. So you have got some nerve.”

Sunwoo watched Eric crack, putting in more effort to stay on his feet. “If you’ll just let me explain, Youngjae, I—”

“Quit calling me that,”

“Eric,” Sunwoo called him quietly.

“Why are you still trying to ruin my life?” A tear spilled from each eye. “Haven’t you done enough?”

“I don’t want to ruin your life,”

“Why are you turning everyone who might love me away?”

The question knocked the wind out of Sunwoo. “Not everyone.”

“Then why did you leave?” Eric dug his nails into his palm, his voice no longer frustrated. Just empty.

“I didn’t want to leave.”

“Why couldn’t you say goodbye? Why on earth not?”

Sunwoo chased the words through the back of his mind, knowing exactly what to say, how to explain everything that had happened in the last years, how to fix this. But his throat ran dry.

“I’m sorry.” 

He watched a single tear run down Eric’s shivering face. Eric shook his head and told him, “No, you’re not,” before he turned around and walked the rest of the way home.

2017, March
The Front Porch

The week of finals had been absolute hell on earth. 

For 7 consecutive days Eric found himself chained to either his desk at the dorms or his classic spot at the library, with mountains of review material at his disposal and a bottle of electrolytes wherever he went. He had been so swamped, so hell bent on making an academic return to glory in college, that he hadn’t really had time for anything else. Not to visit home, cook up a proper meal, or even talk to Sunwoo.

Sunwoo. Ever since that gross, petty misunderstanding they’d gotten into the month before and the accompanying radio silence, Sunwoo was a frequent resident of Eric’s thoughts. Their arguments were not uncommon, but at some point Eric had realized they hadn’t gone nearly as long without talking before, acting like a pair of hormonal teenagers, and decided, against the unmovable force of his pride, that he might have missed him.

As soon as he’d handed in the very last exam paper, Eric alao decided to do everything he hadn’t been able to, all at once.

He packed a bag and sent Sunwoo a message, inviting him out for a bite at their usual diner back home. Unlike Eric, who had been a prisoner of campus for some time, he knew Sunwoo was spending the better part of his term break wandering around the neighborhood.

I’ve made the mature, adult decision to miss you. Congratulations on your win. I know you don’t have anything better to do, so meet me at The Shortcake House in about an hour, Eric typed. Barely a minute after he hit send, the battery in his phone died.

Annoyed but really not bothered enough to go back for a powerbank, Eric stuffed his green-cased phone in his backpack and hopped on the 4:45 train to Windsill.

At about 5:30, Eric headed straight for The Shortcake House from the station, unsurprised that he’d arrived first. He contemplated stopping by his house first, mostly just to charge his phone back to life, but remembered no one would be home yet and he’d left his keys inside the last time he visited. Eric took their usual two seats at the counter and ordered a plate of fries and two tall milkshakes: strawberry for himself and peanut butter with extra caramel just the way Sunwoo liked it. And then he waited.

Eric normally didn’t mind waiting for Sunwoo, who operated on his own concept of time. But by the time the sun had painted the sky a darker shade and the plate of fries was just a plate and the peanut butter milkshake had become a melted wasteland beyond salvation, Eric ended up calling it a day. So this wasn’t one of Sunwoo’s 15-minute delays and he clearly didn’t want to talk yet, fine with Eric—he would try again tomorrow or the day after that until Sunwoo came around like he always did.

After settling his tab, he poured the untouched milkshake into a paper cup and followed a path home, but not before stopping by the tea house to get some of the chamomile tea his mom liked.

The door to his house was unlocked and opened with a creak.

“I’m home,” Eric announced as he headed into the kitchen, where his mom had been preparing for dinner. He set the tea on the dining table and plopped down on one of the chairs, exhausted.

“Hey, honey,” Immediately his mom walked over to him and planted a kiss on the top of his head, keeping her arms around him for slightly longer than usual. “Everything okay with you?”

Eric chuckled, but her voice had a certain twinge of sadness to it that got him to face her. 

“I’m grand, but what’s up with you?”

Sighing, Eric’s mom began to stroke his hair like she did when he was a kid, struggling to fall asleep or having broken an arm on the playground.

“Nothing. I’m just sorry about the way things are,” she said.

“What are you talking about, mom?”

“You know, with Sunwoo and all,” his mom explained. “So have you two spoken? He was here earlier,”

Sunwoo must have come over to tell his mom all about their stupid argument, Eric thought, and then laughed.

“Yeah no, we had a dumb fight some time ago but don’t worry about it, mom. We’ll fix it like we always do,” Eric said. “In fact, I’ll invite him over again tomorrow. Or go to their house myself. How’s that sound?”

Eric’s mom stopped running her fingers through his hair.

“Youngjae. Has he not told you?”

“Told me what?”

Eric made the run across town to Sunwoo’s place with nothing in mind but the resonance of his mother’s voice in the dining room, handing news over to him like a drink on a platter.

“Sweetie, they’re moving away.”

Which couldn’t be true. Which shouldn’t be true. How would it be true if it didn’t reach him, anyway?

The milkshake to-go still in his hands, Eric climbed the front steps and pounded on Sunwoo’s door. 

“Mrs. Kim? Mr. Kim?” Eric yelled into the gap in the door and the wall. “Sunwoo?”

His finger ran across the for sale sticker smack in the center of the door, but he paid it no attention. Chose to believe otherwise. Jumped up and down in frustration and continued knocking on a closed door to an empty home like he had any kind of control over anything.

I should call him, he thought. But when Eric reached into his pockets, his phone was nowhere to be found.

As the sunlight disappeared on him, too, Eric thought to run home and charge his phone after he found it and ring Sunwoo up until his phone exploded on the other end. He thought to cover other bases, walk their small town in Sunwoo’s shoes, hunt him down himself. He thought to do something. Eventually. Unaware that he would never find his missing phone or hear back for years.

For now, though, he would sit on the steps to Sunwoo’s front porch, ignore the milkshake that had spilled on the ground behind him, and blame every part of his childish, idiotic self for driving Sunwoo away.

Two Weeks Later
Home, Autumn Avenue

The only person Eric had any strength to speak to was Haknyeon.

In the subsequent morning of their disastrous dinner, Changmin immediately called Eric to apologize, trying to explain every aspect of his side on the misunderstanding of the year. Like the good friend he was, Eric listened. They spoke for almost an hour.

Although disappointment was an understatement to describe what had happened at their date, Eric could not find it in himself to be upset with Changmin. Not because he was his friend or because he’d liked the idea of him for some time, but because in his unprecedented burst of growth, Eric presumed, it was not at all that deep. Besides, the whole thing with Changmin barely made it to the list of Eric’s troubles after everything else that had gone down that night.

Changmin sent over a box of Eric’s favorite cheesecake as a peace offering, and then they were alright. Back to their regular programming. Almost like nothing happened. Eric wished other things could be repaired as easily.

Haknyeon didn’t really know any more than the Changmin fiasco and Sunwoo’s frantic search for Eric and a mention of a lost green phone. After everything that had happened, Eric still lacked the courage to unpack all his Sunwoo history with him. Regardless, Haknyeon frequented Eric’s place with treats from the bakery, where Eric’s absence had sent the teenage part-timers into the biggest frenzy of their lives.

At about 3:30 in the afternoon, Haknyeon rang his front door.

Eric sat on the floor shoveling tater tots into his mouth while Haknyeon was sprawled on the couch next to him, humming to some 60s song. Normally he didn’t mind the silence, even enjoyed it more often than not. But just this once, he thought as he stared at the milkshake Haknyeon brought him, he wanted to start an overdue conversation.

“Sunwoo and I, we go way back,” Eric said. Haknyeon immediately sat up on the couch and listened to everything, from their first meeting at Halloween to Sunwoo’s abrupt exit from Eric’s life, the gears in his head turning.

“Shit, Eric that’s awful. I’m sorry,” Haknyeon told him when he finished.

“Don’t be,”

“Did you two, you know?”

“No,” Eric answered quickly. “I don’t know. He left too early for me to know anything else,”

“But did you?” Haknyeon asked, waiting for Eric to shut the conversation down as soon as he did. “Love him?”

To his surprise, Eric told the truth.

“Of course I did.”

Haknyeon nodded in understanding, pursing his lips as he looked around the apartment.

“At least you got to talk about it, right?”

Eric snorted, setting the milkshake back down. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that night. When he’d been looking for you,” Haknyeon answered, growing concerned of the lack of confirmation in Eric’s expression. “He had this phone in his hand and said you needed to see it. Urgently,”

Eric shook his head. “Well, where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The phone.”

Haknyeon’s smile dropped. “I put it in your bookshelf two weeks ago. Are you telling me you haven’t seen it?”

Wasting no time, Eric scrambled to his room and started flipping through his bookshelf, Haknyeon right behind him. One pile of books and other items on the floor later, he found it hidden in the very back. The green phone case he’d lost in freshman year and inside it, his battered old cellphone. A single tear rolled down Eric’s cheek at the sight of it. 

He rushed to plug the phone into his computer, and right after the dead battery icon disappeared, a flurry of messages to his old number crashed into his screen like waves.

Every single one from Sunwoo.

Last Thursday, 8:30 PM
The Raven’s Corner, Renaissance Street

“Go on home, Dani. Thanks for helping out today.”

“You’re welcome, boss,” she said, strapping her backpack on and heading for the door. “See you next week!”

“Good luck on your midterm!”

Sunwoo closed up the counter and then transferred some boxes to the storage room, which seemed to be accumulating with dust. He switched the light on, but decided he would tend to it another time. The day he’d just had was strangely slow and draining at the same time. His last proper meal was breakfast. Yesterday.

Surviving on a lollipop, he started sweeping the main floor. Music filled the store as he slid in and out of the rows of bookshelves, each filled with pages of pre-loved literature or instructional material and everything in between. He was at the self-help section when a knock came at the door, followed by the sound of windchimes as it opened.

Sunwoo peeked out from the shelves. “Sorry, we’ve just closed for the night. Come back tomorrow.”

“Hi, sorry to intrude like this but my grandma asked if I could retrieve something she’d left in storage,” said a woman in her 30s, holding a bunch of envelopes.

Sunwoo blinked, and then understood the resemblance. “Oh! You’re Mrs. Pyo’s granddaughter. Are you here for the red box with her name on it?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Let me just grab it for you.”

Back inside the storage room, Sunwoo scoured the area for where he last saw that medium-sized red box, too ancient to blend in with its neighbors. Once he’d spotted it on a stack of boxes under a ledge, pushed to the back, he quickly knelt down to retrieve it, confirming it was what the old owner was looking for. As he did that, a second item had dropped onto the boxes, almost like it was stuck to the bottom of the ledge for some time. Something rectangular and peculiarly green.

He returned to the main room, where the owner’s granddaughter was happy to receive the box.

“Did your grandma mention anything about a smaller green box? I found it on top of that one,” Sunwoo explained.

The woman shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. But thanks for getting me this,”

“No problem,”

As soon as she left, Sunwoo hurried to the storage. He reached into the space in the ledge and the boxes for the item he’d spotted earlier, only to realize it wasn’t a box at all. An old model he hadn’t seen in years, a couple of stickers on the side—in his hands was an old phone Sunwoo would recognize anywhere. He stared at it and all the weight it carried.

Nothing happened the first few times he’d tried to power it on, so he scrambled for an old cable wire in hopes of making it work. After a series of desperate attempts, it did. The lock screen, an age-old picture of Eric perched on Sunwoo’s shoulders from several autumns ago, stared back at him.

Beneath his shaking finger, countless messages from his old number filled the screen in a cascade.

03/28/2017 — 4:42 PM
You: I’ve made the mature, adult decision to miss you. Congratulations on your win. I know you don’t have anything better to do, so meet me at The Shortcake House in about an hour
Read 4:43 PM

4:43 PM
Sunwoo Kim: Actually, can we meet at my house instead? There’s something I need to talk to you about. I’m really sorry to only do it now, but it’s important. I’ll be waiting for you on the front porch.
Sent

5:40 PM
Sunwoo Kim: Have you gotten to the station? You probably have, the train ride’s usually less than an hour. I’m waiting for you on the front porch.
Sent

6:00 PM
Sunwoo Kim: Youngjae, are you OK? I’ve been calling. I’m worried. I’m waiting for you on the front porch.
Sent

6:20 PM
Sunwoo Kim: Alright I’m heading to The Shortcake House. Stay right there and wait for me, I’ll be there in a second.
Sent

6:30 PM
Sunwoo Kim: I’m at the diner, where are you?
Sent

6:32 PM
Sunwoo Kim: Youngjae?
Sent

6:55 PM
Sunwoo Kim: I was halfway to your place, but my mom said we had to go… I am so sorry, Youngjae, I couldn’t catch you in time.   
Sent

7:30 PM
Sunwoo Kim: We’ve just gotten to the airport, the flight’s in about an hour. Is there any way you can come to see me?
Sent

7:31 PM
Sunwoo Kim: That was an incredibly stupid question, sorry. I should have been there to see you off. 
Sent

8:45 PM
Sunwoo Kim: I’ll understand if you never want to speak to me again after all this. I should have just talked to you about it. I can’t give you anything more than an apology that will probably mean nothing. I just hope you’re OK. I promise not to bother you after this. Take care, Youngjae. You deserve nothing short of the world.
Sent

4:05 AM
Sunwoo Kim: I’m an idiot.
Sent

4:12 AM
Sunwoo Kim: When mom and dad told me out of nowhere that we were basically going to move to another planet, prepare to restart everything in less than two weeks, do you know what my first thought was? It wasn’t the life I’d have to adapt to or the one back home I’d be forced to leave behind. It was you. I guess it’s really not that different, because you are my life back home. My first thought—no, my first instinct was to run to you. But we were still in the middle of that stupid fight that could have been over if I wasn’t such an airhead. You know how confrontation makes me illiterate and everything, but I was also just a coward. A dumb coward who couldn’t man up and face you to tell you what I needed to say and what you deserved to hear. You were always the better of the two of us. The more mature one, the smarter one, the one who always knew what to do. I admired you because of it. I’ve always admired you. I promised not to reach out to you anymore unless you did first, but I’m also sitting in a seat on an airplane thinking about all of the things I haven’t said. All of the things you haven’t heard. All of the things you were supposed to know if I wasn’t such a coward. I can’t promise you anything right now, but on behalf of my older, future self, I will come back. If you don’t want me around, then I’ll stay out of your way. But I will absolutely come back. You will never be alone again, Youngjae. I know I didn’t say it much, but you must’ve known, right? You knew, right?
Sent

4:15 AM
Sunwoo Kim: Listen, I have to change my number when we settle in, so if you need to speak to me or just need someone to listen or anything at all. I’ll be here—00 353 1922.
Sent

Two Weeks Later
The Raven’s Corner, Renaissance Street

Eric offered the cab driver five more bucks to assault the gas pedal. As the car turned the corner on Renaissance, Eric spotted Sunwoo re-entering the bookstore, piles of boxes scattered outside the doorway.

“No,” Eric repeatedly muttered to himself.

The vehicle stopped right in front of The Raven’s Corner. Eric thanked his ride, shut the door behind him, and carefully made his way to the entrance, where he would impatiently wait for Sunwoo to reappear. Right on cue, Sunwoo walked out carrying a stack of boxes that covered his face from sight.

“Leaving again?” Eric asked, startling Sunwoo into almost dropping the boxes.

Sunwoo set the load down on the pavement next to the other boxes, dusting his hands off right after. He struggled to meet Eric’s gaze, but powered through.

“Eric,”

“I must say, it’s nicer to have caught you in person this time,”

Sunwoo shrank in broad daylight, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I swear I was going to let you know. Well, let the whole town know with a sign on the window.”

Eric pointed to the mess of boxes with just his head, hands behind his back. “So where do you think you’re going?”

“Just somewhere temporary, until I can fly back and take care of everything,” Sunwoo answered. “Somewhere far enough.”

“And all this because of… that night?”

Sunwoo stared right at Eric’s unreadable expression. “No, not just because of that night. I’m just—done forcing myself back into the past. I’m sorry, Eric.”

“Are you done?”

Sunlight shone down on the pavement, incandescent in spite of the chill in the breeze. Somewhere in the space between them Eric found himself standing in front of Sunwoo across multiple points in time, each one retelling a story that was far from over. Without another word, Eric held the old, green phone up for Sunwoo to see, in search of the hope in his eyes that could once power cities.

“I’m sorry,” Eric finally said.

“You found it,” Sunwoo pointed out, the guilt on his face gradually turning into relief. “Does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

Eric rolled his eyes when he said, “An incredibly stupid question,” and Sunwoo broke out into a smile. He stepped forward with the wind, placed one hand on the back of Sunwoo’s neck and the other on his shoulder.

“I knew, even if you didn’t say it much,” Eric told him. “Did you know?”

Sunwoo responded with one hand on Eric’s hip and the other on the side of his face, making up for lost time. Then he kissed him, long and slow to confirm, and even longer for him to remember. Eric hung onto his collar, temporarily pulling away.

“Just to be clear, where are you actually going?”

Sunwoo swept the hair stuck to Eric’s forehead when he answered, “Nowhere,” just before he kissed him again.

2015, November
The Pier

Despite his initial reluctance, Sunwoo had busied himself with theoretically every booth laid out on the pier—even after winning the stuffed elephant. And every time he stood in front of a booth Eric would pay close attention, whether to the streaks of sunlight on Sunwoo’s hair or the concentration in his eyes. Eric would watch, ignoring how physically tired he had grown.

Ding-ding-ding-ding, the machines would sing, harmonious with Sunwoo’s every cheer of triumph. Eric liked seeing Sunwoo outside the prison of his routine; somewhere along the way he realized that although he would always be blind to his own tireless, robotic study habits, the idea of Sunwoo not taking care of himself was unacceptable.

“Did you see that? Did you see me get it?” Sunwoo asked, snapping Eric out of his thoughts.

“I did,” Eric answered with a smile. “You’re a winner.”

“Of course I am!”

At some point Eric had convinced Sunwoo to take a break, so they took to the edge of the pier with two sticks of candy floss, letting their legs hang over the water. The sun had begun to set and the carnival lit up in battery-powered stars. Eric followed the invisible path of the wind to Sunwoo, seated right next to him.

“This might have been the greatest day of my life,” Sunwoo declared, which made Eric scoff.

“And you said you’d rather do homework.”

Sunwoo shook his head, tossing a piece of candy floss into his mouth. “Remind me to make a permanent correction. I would always rather be here. At the pier.”

Eric nodded happily and refocused straight ahead.

“You two! Smile for the camera,” some voice called out from behind them—a photographer at work.

In the spotlight, Eric threw up his signature awkward peace sign and forced a semi camera-worthy smile.

“3, 2, 1!”

Without warning, Sunwoo had looped an arm across Eric’s shoulder and pulled him to his side, getting him to look away from the camera.

“Awesome, thank you!”

The photographer took the developing photo out of its slot and handed it to Sunwoo, who shook the film with excitement. Eric, on the other hand, watched Sunwoo like he always did, but kept the irrational speed of his heartbeat and the strange turning in his chest between himself and time.