Chapter Text
Long Beach was pensive that day: its sky was grey, and it shouldn't have been, because it was August and what is the world without coherence?
What else was coherent? The fact that at 7:00 AM the small convenience store right by the beach started to activate.
The owner was an American man in his thirties, with a rose skin color and already grey hair; like always, he reached his store early in the morning, keys rotating through his fingers, whistling out of tune.
He arrived at the barred entrance, turned the keys in the port key and went in, almost by muscular memory. Easy, no?
Well, no.
He lifted up the blinds, letting the light inside to illuminate the whole store: regularly, there was the check-out on the left, the shelves divided neatly in sections in the middle, and the drinks compartment.
But something was missing, something was off.
The drink refrigerator was gone.
His feet didn't let the brain think twice.
With one, big step, he dashed over there, panicking, just to discover a whole trail of full, closed, packed cans tossed along the corridor between the shelves, like someone had tugged the refrigerator all the way from its original place to the opposite side of the store, leaving the cans lying on the floor in the way.
His eyes climbed greedily on the furniture far away from him, scared as if the culprit was still with him.
The man's breath started malfunctioning when his brain started gathering all of the worst ideas in his mind. He was in over his head like a drunkard and the heat on his temple wet his hair, fusing his fears in terrible, slick sweat that dropping from his forhead on the floor.
He had gone the day before to check that everything was alright, and the morning after he found that mess!
No, someone had visited. But who?!
Surely someone who had planned it, someone who wanted to be intimidating, fearful. And maybe, he had even been watched, stalked for days without his realising.
His mind was about to explode; he ran over to the fridge and spotted another anomaly that cut his breath short and made him choke on it, as of his gasp was a thread hung down his throat.
He gasped in fear as if a dead corpse was lying on the floor. As if.
There was something written on the glass door of the fridge in purple ink. It was signed in bad handwriting, the man's eyes were too foggy and his brain was too rushed to stop and read whatever was written on it.
The owner didn't stand a second more.
He dashed over to his phone on the counter, clumsly, almost stumbling on his own toes and tripping, and dialed the police number, all scared.
His hands had a tremor, so rapid that he almost inserted the wrong dial.
"H-hello?" he murmoured on the phone.
The police officer was tired, and probably in the middle of a yawn.
"Yes? What happened, sir?"
The man swallowed, and, hesitant, he talked, while taking a look around the store.
"Yes, Uhm...I think someone has broken into my shop! I am terrified! You need to help me, my shop is a mess! I am telling you someone broke inside!"
~ 1 month before ~
Don't ask Seonghyeon how it happened.
Or when it happened, because he has no idea.
Actually, don't even ask him what happened, he doesn't know anything. Like, anything.
All he knew was that a particularly attractive guy had been visiting the shop he worked at multiple times.
Seonghyeon still remembers the first time he saw him: in the middle of July, maybe August, during his time in Los Angeles.
He had nothing to do there, it was on another level of bore. The owner of that little convenience store had never really controlled him and Juhoon too much, and, especially at the end of the day - practically the sunset - , there was literally nobody.
That room was a desert by all means: remote and hot. Incredibly hot.
It was about 19:00 and the sun was setting, showing his orange and rose colors; Seonghyeon's head was not on his shoulders, it was on the counter, right behind the check out, his body making a perfect 90° bow just to sustain himself on the desk.
In summer you are not really exhausted because of a hard-working time: heat had its own way of being lethal.
Seonghyeon looked like an animal trying to sleep, and he groaned annoyed when a full ray of sunshine assaulted his face as if it was a funest dog.
"Man, next time bring a pillow" commented Juhoon, who was right next to him, unaffected.
Almost crying, Seonghyeon replied " I always say that" he lifted his head "And I always forget" and smashed it back down on his arms, on the counter, fake sobbing like a widow.
He was desperate, and Juhoon seemed really diverted.
"You are laughing a bit too hard, Juhoon" his voice cane out threatening, muffled against his arms.
He coughed. "How could I not? you are peak comedy, man" Juhoon shrugged, like he was impossibiltated.
Seonghyeon stood back up, a grin on his rosy face, preparing to hurt Juhoon's knife with his back. "You know what else is peak comedy? Your dating history"
he shot back and laughed like there was no tomorrow. Juhoon's jaw was on the floor, and Seonghyeon would've left it there forever.
"Come on, I am not that bad!" he insisted, and Seonghyeon quickly denied with his hand.
"Nono, it's not you man, it's the men you are attracted to, the problem" his energy was definetly back.
"Shut up! You know what?? Go back to sleep" and forced his friend's head back down on the counter with his hand, burying it in his sleeves.
Seonghyeon's voice came out muffled "Yeah yeah sure... Go back to taking pics of the "golden hour"".
"Oh my God, will you shut the hell up?! Didn't you just say you were about to die?!" Juhoon whined exasperated. Seonghyeon groaned again "I wish".
But suddenly Juhoon shifted, shaking rapidly Seonghyeon by the shoulders like there was an apocalypse right outside their window.
Seonghyeon whined because he had to use his muscles only to look outside the window, for probably a really dumb reason. Like a cat eating a rat or something.
Then, he realised that if Juhoon saw a dead rat in the fanges of a feline, he would have cried nights over the pure creature. And he would have not been tugging Seonghyeon by his shoulder in endearing excitement.
"Look, nyc incoming. About to come in by the door. You might want to-"
Before any other star could explode in the sky, Seonghyeon was up behind the counter, with less bags under his eyes, like they disappeared magically.
NYC was at the door, of course he had to be wide awake.
There he was, nyc in his hip-hop clothing, oversized blue jeans, decorated by hand with some purple and yellow brush; the kind of messy that the audience admired.
A whole line of hats and keys hanging from his belt, and one squared green cap on only one side of his head; a white tee on, and a denim jacket not worn the way it should have been worn: the sleeves were tied in a knot on his collarbone, and the back of the jacket was tilted slightly on the right side of his shoulders.
Like he had calculated everything by the millimetre.
And a tan that made Seonghyeon's stomach ache in the prettiest, most addictive and self-sabotaging way ever.
He was a hip hop dancer, Seonghyeon knew that from one specific key chain that he wore one day, because it had the logo of a certain dancing school near Long Beach.
Well, that only made him even cooler, Seonghyeon would have bitten his own finger for him.
That was nyc, and it was always a pleasure for Seonghyeon to have him inside the store.
nyc opened the glass door, and Seonghyeon and Juhoon bowed, trying to act like they hadn't seen him from a mile away.
It was not the first time nyc came inside: he would usually just grab a drink, a Diet Coke or something, and then go away. Average teenager.
But Seonghyeon needed a way to talk to him.
He took a deep breath, and came forward.
"What are you looking for?" he asked with a smile on his face.
nyc wasn't even looking straight at him: he was staring at the corner of the roof, where was hung an old TV.
He tilted his head and looked at Seonghyeon, his eyes unreadable.
"Something I might need" the dancer shrugged and carried on, leaving Seonghyeon there.
nyc had never talked too much, never really interacted with Seonghyeon and Juhoon, even when they were the only ones in the shop. And they were pretty obviously the same age.
Seonghyeon was getting his hopes to high and he knew that, he just couldn't help it.
nyc skipped the istant noodles section, and approached immediately to the drink refrigerator, looking throughout the glass like he had to decide between yes or no at his own wedding.
The refrigerator was a tall furniture, with a dim white light illuminating the shelves inside; the door was made of transparent glass, the only opaque thing on it, was the sign "DMD" - that stood for "Diet Mountain Dew" - written on it in purple printed paper. For some reason, nyc always stopped there and observed something that, evidently, them common people like Seonghyeon and Juhoon didn't see.
Seonghyeon kept an eye on him from the counter.
"Why is nyc constantly next to that refrigerator?!" Juhoon whispered, making sure it wasn't audible to anybody else but Seonghyeon. The other boy just shrugged.
nyc was the nickname they used to refer to that handsome face. Why nyc if they met in LA?
Well, because the first time Seonghyeon saw him, he was wearing one of those old-fashioned t-shirt, with a 19-something date and New York City written right beneath. Ever since that day, Seonghyeon was blind for him; it was practically the same as a hallway crush, because nyc was someone that Seonghyeon would have married, skipping talking stages and everything that came before because he was handsome as hell.
Since they neither knew his name, nor did they want to get in any trouble, they came up with "nyc" as a code name. Clever, right.
Juhoon shifted, in order to down slightly the blinds that were letting too much sunlight in. Under his breath, he muttered "Acting like a thief".
A scoff escaped from Seonghyeon's mouth. He checked on nyc once again, made sure he wasn't looking, and reached Juhoon.
"Thief? Here? And why? It's not like we have diamonds-" the words came out as a whisper. He opened his arms and looked around, going back to the counter. Juhoon quickly shushed him, telling him to low the tone of his voice "The most expensive things we have here is Lay's, man"
nyc looked their way for a second, and Seonghyeon felt the need of disappearing from the face of the earth. His eyes felt heavy, like he could have modified everything he didn't like the same way a drawer could have earased a mistaken line of graphite.
Seonghyeon's pupils were glued to nyc's, sending a shiver down his pine while heat rised up to his cheeks, like he was a termometer. He wanted to do something, but waving clumsly probably wasn't the best thing he could have ever done.
A smile? Was it alright?
Or did he simply just keep on watching him? He wonders if that counts as flirting...
Before he could actually do something, nyc looked away, his attention sprawling back on that damn refrigerator like it was the safe of a bank.
Shit. He froze. He literally froze. All because nyc was looking at him, and it was embarrassing. So embarrassing.
He shook the thoughts away in a pained expression, rolling hus eyes and turning to Juhoon again.
"You're paranoid, bestie" he fumbled, and then gave his head up to gravity, letting it fall again on his arms.
How desperate did he look? That was going to keep him up at night.
Hopefully, nyc hadn't heard Juhoon's suspects.
It was just a paranoid of Juhoon's, he didn't have to worry, nyc was always welcomed to that spent convenience store! Or that was what Seonghyeon wished he could assure the dancer of.
It was so embarrassing. Being in love was so embarrassing.
Some minutes later, the boy reached the counter with a bag full of Diet Mountain Dew's and other various snacks. Seonghyeon got up and took his order, while Juhoon didn't even flinch, like they had already chosen that nyc's order belonged to that down bad of an Eom Seonghyeon.
Trying to make a bit of conversation, the cashier commented "All Mountain Dew's, is there a party or something?".
He tried to make his smile brighter than he usual, but when he looked up again, nyc was not looking at him.
But he did meet his eyes when Seonghyeon finished speaking.
"Oh, no its for...my dance crew" the boy attempted a smile, like he had to cover something up. Well, that didn't matter: at least he was talking to Seonghyeon.
"Aah, dance crew, cool!" he answered, scanning every product with a strange device that not even he knew how to use properly. He could feel Juhoon judgemental thoughts from a room away.
"You from here?" Ok, this time nyc talked first.
Seonghyeon's hopes reached the exosphere. Maybe the eye contact from before did something?
The cashier looked up "Yes and no, I'm half Korean, Iive in Daejeon. Come in L.A only for the summer" he tried to stay cool, not to make it look to obvious.
nyc nodded "Cool".
"Payment with card?" asked Seonghyeon, taking the bancomat in his hand; nyc shook his head and handed him 10 dollars, without saying a word.
With no questions, Seonghyeon took the cash and reposed it inside the box. nyc wasn't smiling and he wondered why. He always wondered why when people didn't smile. It made him sad that their interaction wasnt a reson for their mouth to curl up, and whenever that happened he felt kind of guilty, and a part of him was unsatisfied even.
nyc wasn't the conversation-type.
But he did ask something else to Seonghyeon.
"What's your name?" the dancer looked up while he packed up his drinks.
Seonghyeon tugged his hair behind his ear. his hearing had gotten worse in the past days due to his headphones, and it was highly impossible that nyc was asking his name. Especially after that forgettable eye contact.
"Sorry?" he leaned in, eyebrows curled up, blinking obliviously.
"Your name"
Holy shit. He heard it right.
And he also heard Juhoon dropping a cardboard box in the back of the closet. He didn't faint, did he?
No, the next one to faint would have been Eom Seonghyeon.
He looked at nyc like he was myth come true, a legend that was hard to believe. Then, he cane across a dilemma: what the fuck was his name?
Ah right.
"Eom Seonghyeon" he answered in the most normal way possible. His hands grabbed one of the shopping bags, but it was just an excuse to look away.
nyc didn't say his name right back. Maybe, if Seonghyeon hadn't asked for it, he would not have said it. He noted in his head: reserved.
"What about you?" without thinking, he started putting all the drinks in the shopping back.
"Keonho"
Simple, fast, monosyllabic. Almost melodic. Seonghyeon would have loved it forever now.
Keonho started helping him, sharing the action.
God only knows why Seonghyeon found it romantic.
"Oh, alright" he was at a loss of words. What was there to say next? He didn't want to seem uninterested, he simply had no idea how to talk without looking like he was about to faint. The warm feeling on his cheeks was highly ignored. If Seonghyeon pretended it didn't exist, then it wasn't there.
In a matter if seconds, the atmosphere dropped from full, hopeful to awkward. At least for Seonghyeon.
The seconds stretched largely, without giving space to anything else but the pressing weight of embarrassement on Seonghyeon's back and Juhoon filthy giggle from the other room. Probably Keonho found it awkward too, as he soon fastened the pace he put the things in the bag with.
Seonghyeon was hating every second of it: the first impression was important. What if Keonho would have never turned back to that shop just because the cashier was too shy, or was awkward? And Seonghyeon would have always regretted it if that was the case. If. If.
But at the same time, everything he did to try make the moment catchy, memorable, something to giggle about at night, ended up in immense embrassement, pushing the intersction deep down the hole of embarrassement.
His arms went all rigid when Keonho weighed the full shopping bag on his shoulder.
"Ehm..." Keonho mumbled while Seinghyeon looked at him. Dying while his eyes jumped up and down, from his head to his toes in one strobe.
Seonghyeon was trying to understand what he wanted to say.
In the end, he said it, all in one bresth, like that was the hardest thing ever.
"Bye"
Before Seonghyeon could blush about it or sink into the ground, Keonho was already out of the store, his jaw clenched clashing with the shopping bag and his accessories bouncing with each one of his step.
The store was empty suddenly.
The next sound was Seonghyeon hitting the ground with a fast bresth: his legs failed.
Juhoon came out of the warehouse with a worried expression on his face "Shit man! Are you alright?- Oh".
Hus voice stopped when he reslised Seonghyeon was on the floor and perfectly conscious: he was pressing his back against the feet of the counter, while he tortured his chin with his fingers. The eyes were ficed on an unprecised point in space.
Juhoon gave himself a good facepalm, massaging his eyebrows as if he was trying to keep calm.
He exhaled and shook his head.
"You are so delulu"
Seonghyeon opened his mouth to speak but his friend cut him off "And that's not a good thing".
With a huff, Seonghyeon slammed his arms on the floor, trying to stand up.
"Don't start".
"I am not the helpless romantic here-" he rolled his eyes.
"Yes, you are, do i have to remind you-" Seonghyeon started, but Juhoon cut him off, opening his mouth as it worked lile a scissor.
"Yeah yeah alright. I don't need your scold again. Do you have his name?" Juhoon bent down a little bit
"Yes" nodded the other boy.
Juhoon sticked out one of his hands and offered Seonghyeon to stand up.
"We are searching him on IG"
Seonghyeon dabbed him and held onto his palm, pulling himself up.
"Oh yes, we are".