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After a certain time of night, certain places take on an almost ethereal atmosphere. The most recognized of these places being a grocery store. Minghao has found that 24-hour laundromats could also be added to that list.
He had realized, rather quickly at the beginning of the year, that performing arts majors were the worst people to live in the same dorm building as. Trying to secure a practice room in between classes was hard enough and the laundry room situation was just as bad. Performance art majors, himself included, tended to put off laundry until the last possible moment and instead busied themselves with practice, meaning that the building laundry room was hell after nine. So Minghao started going to the laundromat down the street.
A change in location, however, had not changed his habits and he rarely did his laundry before ten. Then there are nights like tonight, when it's almost midnight before he packs up his laptop, grabs his basket, and makes the walk to the end of the block where the laundromat is. There's a moment when he's about to leave, when he thinks about just putting it off for one more day but he's got a dance class the next day and all of his practice clothes were dirty. There was no way he was going to wear any of those twice.
The laundromat was one of those places that seemed to contradict itself in every way possible. Despite being in the middle of the city and a college campus, it was almost always empty. In the quietness of the city, the neon lights of the building seemed to scream for someone, anyone, to acknowledge their existence. Stepping through the door, as the little bell above it dinged, there was always a second where Minghao felt like maybe he was stepping into a dream.
Minghao sets his bag down by one of the front tables then begins sorting his things into respective washing machines lined up along the right wall. He comes back to his bag and rummages through for his change bag he keeps for laundry day and to grab his laptop. After starting the machines, he goes across the aisle and sits on one of the machines there. It was a feeling thing, sitting on top of the machine in the middle of an empty laundromat. It somehow reminded him of how he used to sit on the kitchen counter, legs swinging, during the summer while he waited for his lunch to finish cooking in the pot beside him. His legs swing idly now as he wakes up his laptop and plugs in his earbuds. He pulls up his dance practice videos from earlier that day and begins to pull his routines apart one by one.
It's only been about ten minutes when the bell above the door rings signaling the entrance of someone else. Minghao doesn't look up until the other person passes him and continues to the end of the row. He doesn't really know who he expects to be at a laundromat at midnight other than himself but he's surprised none the less when he sees Vernon. The two were in the same freshman seminar, Curiosity and the Birth of the Imagination. Minghao hadn't really talked to Vernon aside from bouncing ideas off one another during class discussions but that was as far as their interactions went.
Vernon glances up from the machine at Minghao and raises his eyebrows, as if questioning Minghao's seating choice. Minghao shrugs and pats the machine next to him, but part of him doesn't really expect Vernon to accept the invitation. He does. He crosses his legs under him and looks around the room. Minghao can feel the heat rising in his cheeks and he tries not to think about the fact that Vernon is really attractive and cute. He had been forcing away the thought since the first day of class and now here Vernon was, sitting with him at half past midnight in neon lit laundromat. He really did think it was a dream. He wondered if maybe this was all there was meant to be to their relationship. Class discussions and silent laundromat meetings.
Vernon gestures to the laptop in Minghao's lap. "You're a dance major." Minghao likes that Vernon says it without wavering, as if he could tell just from the videos that it was more than just a hobby. Minghao nods.
"Choreography and performance. That's why I took the imagination seminar, I thought it might help me find inspiration for choreography. What about you?"
Vernon gets this look in his eyes that Minghao can't figure out before saying, "Graphic Design." This time Minghao is the one to raise his eyebrows. "I know, I know. Graphic design is my passion, blah blah blah." Minghao laughs at this, relieved when Vernon joins in as well.
"That's cool," Minghao says. He pulls his left leg up so that he can angle his body towards Vernon. "Maybe I can commission you to do a poster for one of my showcases sometime."
Vernon shrugs, cheeks going slightly pink. "I'd probably just do it for free. As long as I can get into the showcase for free." He grins, but it's hesitant, as if he's wondering if they're close enough to joke around like this.
"Deal." Minghao says, grinning back as they lapse into silence again.
A few minutes later, the washing machines that Minghao is using beep, signaling the end of the wash cycle. Minghao gets up to move his clothes to the dryers, passing Vernon his laptop in the process. Vernon had seemed interested in the practice video Minghao was breaking down and analyzing so he shows Vernon the folder with all his dance videos and tells him he can watch a few if he wants.
When Minghao finishes transferring all his clothes, he returns to his spot beside Vernon. The video that Vernon is watching is from Minghao's first dance showcase with his hometown studio. He was probably seven or eight at the time.
Vernon looks up as Minghao gets comfortable again. "How long had you been dancing for?"
"A year or two," He guesses. "I started when I was six."
"There isn't really a lot of showcase videos. Did you quit or something?" Vernon asks. He doesn't mean for it to sound invasive, he seems like he's genuinely interested in learning about Minghao's dance background.
Minghao reaches for the chain necklace he wears and fiddles with it while he talks. "We couldn't afford lessons for a while because my dad lost his job. There were some dancers in my neighborhood, though. They taught me how to b-boy."
Vernon nods. "It seems like that really worked out for you though."
The way he says it makes Minghao feel emotionally naked. He's told this kid from his seminar class about the one thing he's passionate about without knowing anything about Vernon. The fact that Vernon kept asking questions and never swayed the conversation in order to talk about himself was something that Minghao appreciated. Usually, he liked talking to other performing arts majors about these kinds of things but there always seemed to be some kind of underlying competition. With Vernon there was none of that.
Minghao is about to ask Vernon about his background when a few of the machines start beeping again. Vernon passes back the laptop and Minghao watches as he goes to transfer his clothes to the dryers. Minghao is grinning when Vernon returns.
"Were you checking me out dancer boy?" Vernon asks, giving Minghao a joking look. There's still some uncertainty in his voice but Minghao chooses to ignore it in hopes of that Vernon will realize Minghao doesn't mind joking around like this.
"In those clothes?" Minghao laughs, "God, no." Maybe.
Vernon swings his legs from where they hang off the machine. "My Nike socks and I take personal offense to that statement." But he's laughing, gums showing and nose scrunched up. "You're one to talk," He says after he's taken a few breaths. He gestures to Minghao's green and navy blue plaid pajama pants.
Minghao gasps, loud and dramatic. "These were a gift!" Vernon laughs again and something swells in Minghao's chest. He liked making Vernon laugh.
Vernon, who Minghao had admired since the first day of class when he was the first to answer the question, "What is imagination?"
Vernon, who Minghao would sometimes get distracted by in class because he got caught up in tracing the features of his side profile.
Vernon, who made Minghao feel comfortable in talking about his passion.
Vernon, who Minghao knew practically nothing about.
"Ok, so what about you? How did you get started in graphic design?" Minghao asks.
"There's not much to it, to be honest. My parents are both traditional artists. I just decided to go a more digital route. I learned a lot from them growing up though, so I use a lot of my own sketches in my work."
Vernon holds up his finger and hops off the machine. He comes back with a sketch book. He starts to flip through it, pausing on some of his favorites. He lands on an unfinished sketch and stretches out, on his stomach, across the machines and begins to work. Minghao goes back to his dance videos. It's quiet between them again but this time it isn't awkward. Every once in a while Minghao will glance down to look at Vernon while he sketches and every once in a while Minghao can feel Vernon watching him.
Sometime later, the dryers that Minghao is using beep at him but he ignores them in favor of waiting for Vernon's clothes to finish too. They pull their clothes out together and stand side by side as they pair up socks, checking to see if the machines had ate any of them. They hadn't. Minghao and Vernon exchange numbers and Minghao gathers up his stuff to leave. He pulls on his bookbag, grabs his basket, and heads towards the door.
"Do you want to meet up at the library tomorrow, or I guess this afternoon?" Vernon asks, causing Minghao to stop. "We could work on that seminar homework if you want."
Vernon looks unsure of himself again and Minghao wishes he could say how happy it makes him that Vernon didn't absolutely hate his company. Instead, he smiles and says, "Sure."
They work out details and Minghao finally gets back to his dorm a little after one. His suite mates are still awake, unsurprisingly, and they look up from their video game when he walks through the door.
"You're smiling an awful lot for someone that just came back from a laundromat." Mingyu says, narrowing his eyes.
"Have fun?" Is all Seokmin asks.
Minghao shrugs. "Yeah, you could say that." He says, and goes to put his things away.