"Hey! I am still here, you guys!" The guy beside our seat grumbles to himself, hoping that we could spare him our attention.
The musical instruments playing in the background make our heart pound with joy as we succumb to ourselves in our conversation. Even the taste of the Kitkat milkshakes enlightens our smiles, creating a freezing touch inside of our mouths. I have fallen in love with my matcha flavoured chocolate bar sticking atop the vanilla-like ice cream. As my tongue reaches for the dessert, my head pops into madness, a beautiful serene yet madness for a feeling. However, Sung-ho does not feel that way.
Every time the Korean guy utters his words, Roxanne and I shut him off without noticing his speech. Whenever Sung-ho lifts his hands, there is always something soaring on our face. The merry expression of Roxanne wiggling her body like a worm, only to find her shaking her chair, nearly falling from where she sits.
But the hands of Sung-ho reach out for Roxanne, catching her before hitting the ground. With a snap of his fingers, the Korean guy pushes her upwards and taps her back.
"You could have fallen back there," his expression stiffens as Sung-ho looks at my best friend.
Roxanne shares the exact feeling as him, with her motionless eyes glueing at his figure. Sung-ho could not help but snatch his drinks away and chug what has left inside the container. After a few seconds, he shakes his head off and continues with his sentence.
"Can I interrupt you two, now?"
Roxanne and I nod to his suggestion, with our ears pointing towards his gaze. With a cough, Sung-ho takes out a light novel from his pocket and shows it to us.
The recognisable features of the characters reveal themselves on the surface of the novel. Even the apocalyptic background of the setting catches my eyes off guard. One detail that lets my hands reach the book is the title above the drawings, with the author's name below it. I can feel an exhilaration drawing inside of me as I stare at the picturesque designs of the novel. As I scan the book cover, I notice the limited edition bookmark clipping between the fold pages. The slim yet tall cardboard greets my eyes as I wave back to mine.
"It must be the present chapter he is in the story," I think to myself and meet his stern gaze.
Roxanne snatches the book cover away from Sung-ho and admires the sketches of the characters made by her sheer hard work. She rests her hands on the rough but nostalgic drawings of hers and braces them in her chest.
"I thought I could never see you again," Roxanne does what she can to hide her tears sliding from her eyes. After five years of being apart, Roxanne has finally found the ancient book cover she first drew for me within the past few years.
"You are a fan?" I reach out for the novel from Roxanne and inspect the item.
My hands flicker at every rough and brown page, allowing me to skim the chapters and their texts. In some parts of the novel, I lock my orbs at the illustrations. Roxanne follows my eyes and reviews the intricate lines and shapes, only to find herself inside her delightful world once again.
Lost in thought, I read the words out loud at the last part of the book. A coloured picture of me returns my gaze, smiling, together with the goofy expression of Roxanne beside me. It is like what is happening right now.
However, the two figures on the cover do not show our faces. Before the book got published, we requested the editor a twist to our photographs. The two of us wore masks and hid our faces from the transparent lenses, bringing a sense of mystery to the novel. The editor reluctantly agreed to our wishes. We did not want any attention since we were just a pair of kids growing up.
That thought never ceases inside our head. We never want to show our faces in public, and that thought still lives until now.
Roxanne wraps her shoulders against mine as I close the book once and for all. With a nod to Sung-ho, my hand returns the volume to the owner, staring at us with a bemused face.
"I knew it. You are the author of these books," Sung-ho chuckles to himself and takes out the remaining collection inside his pockets. "I cannot believe that people could not figure out that your pen name is the same as your actual name!"
I also find it odd that some people I meet could not distinguish that I have written those books, popular both online and in actual life. But there is a handful that knows me by both worlds.
Sung-ho shifts her gaze to Roxanne, who is busy drinking the contents of her milkshake. The crunching and hissing sounds of slurps disrupt the atmosphere, making the Korean man and I embarrassed for the unaware girl. Upon nudging his spoon, Sung-ho catches the attention of my best friend with a surprised look on her face.
"I cannot stress how I fell in love with your artworks!" The server says with all his might while raising the book in the air. Luckily for us, the consumers of the cafe buries have their heads buried in their phones and laptops, minding their business.
With a stupid grin carving on his face, the Korean server presents a small notepad and a pen on the table. Like any other fans of mine who reads my books, Sung-ho wants my autograph.
However, he does not stop there. The giddy guy passes the note to Roxanne, wanting to have her signature in his tiny pocketbook. Roxanne widens her pupils upon the sight of someone acknowledging her existence in the novel. After all the experience I have gone through, Roxanne's first meeting of a fan begins now.
Roxy hesitates to move the pen in her hands. With a squeeze of her toes using mine, she reacts to the pain and stares at the blank paper. The jet-black ink fills the white page with curvatures and letterings. Once she signs her name, Roxanne lifts her head with a beam.
"Thank you," Like a duckling in the pond, Roxanne stiffens her expression yet puddles her feet dangling on the chair. She cannot contain her excitement, considering finding a supporter of her artworks.
"No need to thank me, Roxanne. You should thank your friend over there." Sung-ho gives me a wink and feels the fist of fury afterwards.
Sung-ho tumbles down the chair with his face landing on the floor, tongue out and hands pointing skywards. As Sung-ho picks himself from the cold ground, he goes back again, this time coming prepared.
"You hate me, do you?" Sung-ho scratches his head, unbeknownst to himself.
It is painfully obvious to everyone that I hate you to the core. Nobody can get away from me with that flirting style of yours, Mr. Korean man.
The thought hits me once more, like a raging truck barging straight into the streets and slamming at my face. With all the wonders of the world, I can see them now as I swivel to the side and ask Sung-ho a question. "Are you and Nickson related?"
With a frightening incline of his head, Sung-ho agrees yet avoids my eye contact. However, I can see his eyes stealing glances in my direction. An inkling feeling arises in my chest, uncertain if he wishes to stay within our vicinity to talk or leave the cafe.
"Do you know Nickson?" Sung-ho crushes the mug with ease without batting us in the eyes. His orbs look down at the board, watching the spillage of liquid coming from the cups.
"Nickson is our classmate," Roxanne exclaims, and drinks the last drop of ice from her milkshake. With a loud burp escaping her mouth, Roxanne breaks the silence of the conversation.
A soothing chime rings across the other room accompanies the hush. With a minute passing by, the server from before comes back around and collects their cups, excluding mine.
"Are you three alright?" The woman browses each of our faces, checking if there are any other concerns about that taste of the cafe.
With a shake of my head, the girl walks away and avoids stepping her boundaries from the talk. Sung-ho afterwards shuffles his hands inside his pockets. The clinking of coins reverberates through our ears with his wallet gripping on his hands.
My heart beats races across time when he shows a paltry sum of money on the table and pays for our meals. I cannot allow his generosity, since I can pay for the three of our drinks. But Sung-ho snatches my arms and pushes them back before getting up from his seat.
"You girls better get going now." The Korean waiter fixes his vest, turns around, and leaves the cafe without glancing back at the two of us.
We do not know that Nickson has a brother. He mentions nothing from us, and he does not have a reason to disclose it to anyone else.
But if he has a brother, then why would they avoid each other? We would not understand at first glance, yet the scene never occurs in the past few days.