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Summary
Chan reached into his wallet, yanked out an old receipt, and scrawled his number down with a borrowed pen. He shoved it into Jisung's hand.
"Text me. Or call. Or send a carrier pigeon, I don't care. Just... don't let this be the end of it."
Jisung looked at the scrap of paper like it meant something. Then he smiled: a small, hopeful thing.
"You're persistent."
Chan grinned. "You'll learn that about me."
Or: Chan and Jisung between 1990 and 2010.
