No. No. No. NO!
He wasn't feeling guilty for yelling at her. He was right! He had all the right to be mad. Who wouldn't feel offended after being taken as someone's fool? Ignorance doesn't make it better. It makes it worse! Here he was trying to be a decent human being, and it turns out she was just suffering from the consequences of her irresponsibility. Why should he feel bad about yelling at her then?
'She never said she was sick, though. You just assumed that.'
The voice in his head said. It had the same tone and frequency as Jisoo's, lucky him. He grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling it as he groaned. He buffed and stood up. There was no point in overthinking this. He was better off if he started to clean.
But, she hadn't come back.
'Whatever! She can drown in the sink for all I care,' He thought while stomping towards the curtains.
But he stopped.
'But, if she dies, that means I'll have to clean alone' The thought alone terrified him. It sent shivers down his spine as he looked at the curtains, fearing what awaited him behind. Turning around on his heels, he faced directly towards the direction in which she had left, tempting to take a few steps down and go check.
But he didn't.
Instead, he began to circle the stage, observing the lights, speakers, and cables spread around. In his opinion, these people were asking for an accident, stages were meant to be cleared out after every rehearsal, or show. Tidying up cables, making sure they weren't tangled, it was basic.
He began to pick up the things on stage, moving them out of the way to avoid any serious trouble. He came across a microphone laying on top of one of the speakers.
His hand itched to grab it. Muscle memory acting on its own, fingers interlining in the right position, so the weight of the microphone was neither too heavy nor too light. His wrist twirled, as if inspecting a glass of wine, his eyes softened at the instrument. Once again, muscle memory acted, bringing the tool up, at the right height. He had done this numerous times, yet the corners of his mouth twitched, forming a soft curve. His mouth, too, twitched and opened, against his will, yet obeying a long-buried desire.
The first thing Miyeon noticed once coming out of the bathroom was the silence that had been broken. Her ears swiveled towards the sound. Instinctively, her body was drawn towards it, too. It was a low humming, a strange melody, conveying emotions that she was unfamiliar with. The humming became audible words, the words formed sentences, and the sentences developed into a song. Her feet stopped at her command, as her eyes opened wide, her mouth agape.
Junseo had closed his eyes, now both hands held the microphone firmly as if letting go meant releasing a part of his being. The lyrics had formed while the tune of the humming had made a climax in his well-trained ears. Finding the right pitch, and his mind playing a pleasant harmony, the song was born out of nothing. The final sentence came out in a breath of air, before he gasped in surprise, opening his eyes, finding himself staring at a black theater wall. He gasped again, as a sudden realization hit him. He turned around, fear encrypted in his eyes. The silhouette of the person he least wanted to see was lurking in, covered by the shadows of the theater. She, too, seemed to hesitate to step forward and completely reveal herself, even if it was a fact that now both were aware of each other's presence. Giving a final step, she emerged out, eyes full of wonder, expression filled with nothing but awe.
"The microphone was on." She said, closing her mouth, locking eyes with him.
"Yeah, it was on." He replied, breathing evenly, calmly. His eyes not obeying him, and not breaking contact. His lips parted, and he licked them before gulping down saliva. Finally, he averted his gaze.
"Ahem," He cleared his throat. Miyeon shifted the weight of her body from one foot to the other, clasping her hands together, nodding, and suddenly finding an interest in the ceiling lights.
"We-we should finish cleaning," Junseo said, turning around, letting her face his back.
"Yup," Miyeon replied, going up the steps to the stage, skipping a few of them due to her rush. She passed Junseo and entered backstage without uttering another word. Junseo followed after her.
Nobody dared say anything for the rest of the cleaning time.
After finishing up the theater, both went their separate ways, without saying goodbye to each other. On her way home, Miyeon couldn't get the melody out of her head, her thoughtful expression made the other people on the train stare at her all the way until she arrived at her stop. Her expression turned puzzled as her thoughts began to make even less sense. Arriving at her stop, she shook her head and began to walk to her apartment. Reaching the end of the stairs, a strange smell entered her nose.
Smoke.
Her eyes widened.
'Haruki.'
She rushed to the door and amidst panic forgot she had a key. She banged on the door and screamed for Haruki. Not too many seconds after, the door was swung open by a never-wrecked Haruki.
"Fire!" He said in a gasp. Miyeon pushed him aside and ran towards the source of the smoke.
"Open the window!" She yelled, flapping wet towels in all sorts of directions, trying to get the smoke out, so she could see what was causing the fire.
When the smoke dispersed enough, she found the source of her dismay. A pot, charcoal black, with a flame dancing in the center. Miyeon grabbed two wet towels, and grabbing the pot by the handle, ran out of the apartment, pushing Haruki out of the way (again), he fell backward, and flipped over the couch.
Once outside, and downstairs, she grabbed a hose. Dropping the pot on the floor with a loud, Clack! She opened the faucet and sprayed the burning pot. In less than five minutes, she had survived and handled a catastrophe. Now, the smoke coming out of her pot, and with the situation under control, gave her a moment to gaze up towards her main door. There, Haruki's head sheepishly pops out from the corner. Once their eyes met, he slowly went back inside, wincing in anticipation of her nagging.
An hour later, they were sitting down in the living room, with an air purifier that Haruki had brought, enjoying a cup of tea. Miyeon sipped her tea. Haruki's hands quivered at the soft 'cling' sound her cup made when being placed down.
"How?" That was all she said.
"I don't know." He replied.
"What do you mean, 'I don't know' huh? She asked, making a water-washed imitation of his previous sentence.
"Well. You know." He began, rubbing his hands together in nervousness.
"One minute I was watching TV, waiting for my noodles to be done. And then the next thing you know, the smoke covered the TV screen, and I could no longer see," He explained, his voice getting an octave higher as he reached the end of his tale. Miyeon stared blankly at him, then sighed.
"You didn't put water in the pot, you dumbass." She said, flicking a finger at his forehead.
"Ow!" He whined.
"Why didn't you call the fire department?" She asked.
"I figured you would arrive first," He answered.
"Why?" She asked, leaning back and sipping more of her drink.
"Jisoo had called an hour before all of this, and said she saw you and Junseo finishing up and leaving the theater like lightning bolts." He explained as if it was obvious. Miyeon choked on her drink. Haruki turned around in concern when he heard her coughing too much.
"Oh, God! Are you ok?" He slapped her back, trying to help her while she sat up and gasped for air.
"Di-did she…?" She tried to ask.
"Did she come here?" He asked, knowing Miyeon was self-conscious of her lifestyle.
"No, did she tell you anything else?" She asked, remembering the only sentence Junseo had said to her after the small incident in the theater.
'Don't tell anybody about what you heard today. Forget it all. If you do, I will kill you.' She didn't want to find out how true that statement was.
"Err… No?" Haruki said, a bit confused. Then looked at Miyeon, and asked in a whisper.
"Did you kill Junseo?" He asked, hesitantly.
"What!?" Miyeon exclaimed.
"You guys were at each other's throats by nails and punches the other day. And that was while there were witnesses. I don't want to know how much you guys fought while alone." He said, rubbing his temples. Their previous fight had given him a headache that had taken a few days to calm down.
"HE jumped on me!" Miyeon exclaimed.
"And?" Haruki asked.
"I thought you were on my side!" Miyeon hit him on the shoulder.
"Ow! Abuse!" He called out.
"Shut up! If anything, you should be grateful I don't sue you for attempted arson," She said.
"With what money?" He deadpanned. She opened her mouth to snap back, but closed it, as she had no excuse for that. Haruki shook his head in disapproval but smirked as a sudden idea popped up in his head.
"But. If you didn't kill him, what did you do? Seduce him?" He got close up to Miyeon's face, she gulped. Haruki opened his eyes wide enough for them to pop out of their sockets.
"YOU DID!?" He screamed, Miyeon blushed and furiously started denying it.
"NO! NOTHING LIKE THAT!" She kept shaking her hands in front of her, denying it.
"YOU DID!" Haruki confirmed it with her actions when in reality, Miyeon's blush wasn't out of nervousness, but embarrassment due to the gross idea Haruki had just insinuated.
"No! Listen." She grabbed his shoulders, pressing her forehead against his, and looking him straight in the eyes.
"Nothing. Nothing, I repeat. Happened." She said in a dead tone, then released Haruki. She leaned back again and started eating. The atmosphere became still. The noise of the TV helped the ambiance, and Miyeon almost believed the topic was over. When…
"So, he seduced you?"
Silence. A silence that lasted about ten minutes, while one tried to process what she had just heard, and the other tried to guess his best friend's next move.
Miyeon screamed and jumped at Haruki, who gave a high pitch yelp of surprise. Tackling him to the ground, she pulled on his hair, rage dancing in her eyes. From the outside, tussling, pots falling and the sound of glass breaking could be heard. Whoever passed by would think a murder was being attempted, and they were far from wrong.
"HELP! A CRAZY WOMAN IS TRYING TO KILL ME!" Haruki screamed as he ran out of her house, barefooted and with his shirt covered in red liquid.
"COME BACK HERE, YOU JERK!" Miyeon followed him, holding a ketchup bottle, aiming at his precious hair.
~On the other side of the city, Junseo's place~
Junseo sat on the edge of his bed, his laptop on his lap. His nose rested in a bridge formed by the joining of his two hands, while his eyes inspected over the document in front of him. He gave a long and painful sigh. Kicking his legs, he fell into a supine position, staring at the ceiling, his arms flat on his bed. Somehow, his laptop had remained in place, moving his legs up, he let the device fall onto the bed as well. His lap burned as the devilish thing had started warming up. The blank document mocked him, he could see it through the corner of his eye.
"A block?" A voice called out. He knew Jisoo was staring at him while leaning against the door frame. He groaned, his way of giving her an affirmative answer.
"Need help?" She asked. He groaned once again, with that Jisoo sat down next to him, stretching to grab his computer, her eyes went blank as she saw the empty page.
"So, it's this bad, huh?" She asked. Junseo snorted at the sound of her unsurprised tone. She had a lot of experience with creative blocks, they happened to her on a daily basis. She flopped beside him, suddenly feeling too lazy. The drudgery of writing had to be one of the worst to ever exist.
"I thought you were going to help me," Junseo asked, covering his eyes with his forearm.
"Yeah. But I also came to apologize" She said, looking up, staring at the ceiling fan, her eyes following the dangling of the cord used to turn it off and on.
"I swear if you clogged the toilet again, I will…" Junseo began, before being slapped in the arm by Jisoo.
"Not that!" She said, huffing.
"Then?" He asked, leaning back down.
"I shouldn't have gone and sold Miyeon out. I believe she must've felt bad." She said,
"Apologize to her then, not me." Junseo declared, his tone turning a bit colder, the memory from earlier vividly returning.
"Miyeon wasn't the only one who felt bad. I know you thought I must've done it to piss you off." She said,
"And you didn't?" Junseo asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not this time. I went there to give the food, maybe annoy you a little. But, not to cause more tension between you and her." She said, sincerely apologizing.
"So, I'm sorry," She said, feeling regret. Junseo stayed quiet for a few seconds.
"It's fine." He said, at last, uncovering his eyes, letting another sigh come out of him. Jisoo looked at him concerned, he was being a bit too lenient. Junseo felt her stare even with his closed eyes.
"Jisoo, I'm fine. It's just…" He paused, gulped, and continued. "I thought I had finally got it back," He said finally, Jisoo understood what he meant, even with the unclear sentence.
"Is that what's been bothering you since you came back?" She asked, sitting up and looking over the page again.
"Yeah…"
Jisoo thought for a second, then stood up. She shut the laptop and set it on his desk. Then turned around and left the room. Minutes later, she came back with two books, two hot drinks, and a huge fuzzy blanket. Junseo sat up when he heard her moving a reclining couch near his bed, the only other piece of furniture in his bedroom beside his bed, desk, and lamp.
"What are you doing?" He asked, Jisoo flopped on the couch and signaled him to come closer. Once he reached close enough, she threw the blanket over him and her. Passing him a book and drink. Junseo rested his head on five pillows, three that had come from Jisoo's room. In his position, he could drink and read, yet rest as he wasn't completely up nor down.
"Cheering you up, it's my duty as assigned favorite human, aka best friend," She said while grabbing her own cup of tea, and book. Junseo looked at the book in his hand, 'Sweet Northern Breeze'. It was one of his favorite poetry books, and he smiled warmly and began to read. Jisoo had set the air colder than usual, the room quickly became chilly, thus the huge and warm blanket.
Hours went by, and once their eyes felt too heavy, both fell asleep with the beautiful words of the authors encrypted in their minds, bringing them to ease and comfortable dreams. Before falling asleep, Junseo whispered.
"Thank you…"
Under her breath, and already halfway to dreamland, Jisoo replied.
"Sleep tight" A smile formed on her lips.
A couple of weeks later, everyone was meeting at the Café. Coincidentally? For the most part, yes. Miyeon stood three feet away from the bigger cats, who even after seeing her every day, as she visited before her class during the week, and passed by during weekends, were still hostile towards her unfortunate self. After her and Junseo's punishment, they had returned to normal, bickering and insulting each other every chance they got. However, they had a silent agreement to behave once any staff member was within hearing range. They mainly ignored each other to avoid conflict, except for last week. Miyeon growled at the memory, remembering the shift she had missed because she had stayed back to clean the elevator along with Junseo.
It happened this way. She was late to class, the last class of the day, and after realizing her classroom was on the top floor, she decided to use the elevator. There, she met Junseo, who pushed a cleaning cart towards the inside of the elevator. She yelled to get his attention and pleaded for him to not close the door. Junseo obeyed, not in the mood for any arguments. Once inside, the cart brought them apart, so no contact was needed. Until…
"I'm surprised you actually listened to me."
"A thank you would be enough."
"Its common courtesy to hold the door if they ask you to."
"It's also common to be respectful and polite, I want my 'Thank You',"
"Ok. Thank you. Is that better? Geez, someone's a little sensitive today"
"Listen, I don't have time…"
A loud thud! Interrupting his sentence, Miyeon looked for the source of the sound and screeched at the sight of a river of filthy water coming her way. She moved out the way, the smell causing her to become nauseous, Junseo was already taking a mop out of the cart to clean up the mess. Miyeon moved, so he could have space, but with the size of the cart, moving around was rather challenging.
"Hey! Look where you put your hands!"
"You're acting like I want to touch there!"
"You didn't say anything until I complained"
"What is there to say? I prefer saving you from the shame"
"What did you just say?"
Ding!
The Dean stood there with a small twitch on his right eyebrow, his smile quivering as he tried to remain calm. But, who would keep their composure if the doors of the school elevator opened, to reveal one of his students and a janitor battling in a pool of dirty water, with the cleaning cart thrown to the side, crushing both of them? And yet, the weight of the cart didn't stop them from pulling at each other, biting, kicking, and punching.
Later that day, the Dean had sentenced them to clean the elevator, until it looked spotless. He had made them use cotton Q-tips to clean in between the lines of the elevator, getting rid of years of dust. Hours had gone by, and both were pretty sure they were now claustrophobic after having the door close on them several times, leaving them in a closed space for hours, alone, with each other.
That week, both had sent glares to each other every time they encountered each other in the hallways. Junseo would flip her off through the glass windows during her lectures if the professor wasn't looking, and watch in delight as Miyeon got called out for not paying attention. Miyeon would drop yogurt with red dye in the girl's bathroom, making the cleaning of the bathrooms more awkward for Junseo.
And today, here she was, in the café as always, passing the time as she had pulled out an all-nighter to finish a project and was now free until next week. Well, for one class, that is. Haruki arrived shortly after and began petting a nearby kitten. These past few weeks, everyone had sort of become closer, like a tiny flock. Junseo and Miyeon never denied the fact that somehow, they had ended up sharing a friend group, and that that made them unconscious friends, acquaintances at the very least. Yeonjun brought them their drinks, and Miyeon noticed something about his appearance that concerned her. He looked oddly pale, and he was sweating.
"Yeonjun," She called out. He turned around to give her his attention.
"Are you ok?" She asked, raising a hand and standing up to check his temperature in a motherly instinct. Yeonjun's ears burned.
"I'm ok…" He whispered, lowering her hands and smiling at her, his initial shyness had disappeared after seeing everyone pretty much every day. It wasn't a secret that he had become rather fond of Miyeon, even with Miyeon's slowness, she, too, had noticed his special attention. But, credit it to her being close to Jihyo. Haruki was fond of her too, as her best friend, and Yeonjun seemed that way too.
Miyeon smiled, returning to her seat a bit more reassured. Partly because he said he was fine, and partly because she felt no fever when checking him up.
About twenty minutes later, Jisoo arrived, dragging a dying Junseo with her.
"Goodness! What happened to you?" Jihyo asked, helping Jisoo set Junseo down in one of the individual couches.
"Mister, 'I know my limits' stayed up four nights in a row," Jisoo explained, greeting everyone and taking a lavender tea Yeonjun had already prepared for her. She took a seat beside Jihyo, who fanned Junseo with a menu in an aggravating manner.
"Oh, dear! Are you going to be alright for tomorrow?" She asked. Haruki raised an eyebrow.
"Even if he isn't, it's Saturday, it is not like he has a life outside of working." He felt a shiver run down his spine, and turning around, faced the death glare from Junseo. He gave a nervous laugh and sipped tea while looking away, praying for safety. Miyeon laughed out loud, knowing fairly well, Junseo had no strength to say shit. She had dared him to show a steel side, and what better way than giving up sleep to show just what he was made of. Junseo was accustomed to staying up nights in a row, but he would sleep at least one hour during the day. This time, he had kept his eyes open for 100+ hours, and he was still counting.
"You're next" Junseo mouthed towards Miyeon, but before she could answer, Jihyo interrupted their silent dispute.
"Oh! Right!" Jihyo said, earning an offended look from Junseo, who assumed she was agreeing with Haruki's statement.
"No, no! That's not what I meant," She stumbled to explain, putting her hands up in defense.
"Then what?" Miyeon asked, munching on some chips, ignoring Junseo for the time being.
"Well, you see....here's the thing...err…" Jihyo stuttered, something unusual about her.
"You guys are working with us tomorrow at the café. No questions asked, we haven't been charging you for the drinks since we met you, time for payback." Yeonjun declared, confidence flowing since he and his sister had been planning this.
"I knew free stuff would come at a great price," Jisoo murmured.
"Eh?!" Miyeon reacted a bit too late.
"Why?" That was all Haruki asked.
"I will die before placing a foot in that kitchen," Junseo said, to then reconsider as he felt Jihyo's squeeze on his shoulder, which reminded him of the free coffee he had been getting for the past three months or so.
"As my brother said, you guys are coming in tomorrow at 7:00 am. Please don't be late." She said, Junseo suddenly nodded, and with that, the rest agreed, not that they had another choice.
"But, wait…" Miyeon asked.
"Isn't tomorrow…" Jisoo continued. Jihyo and Yeonjun began to walk away.
"College fair." Finished Haruki.
At those words, Junseo shot up and looked at everyone, terrified. College fairs meant kids, teenagers, parents. It was dreadful, traumatic, terrifying.
"He, he," Yeonjun laughed, suddenly a bit nervous.
"We'll see you tomorrow! Enjoy your drinks!" Jihyo called out, and ran, dragging her brother with her into the kitchen.
And just like that, now they were going to work at the 'Meow, Meow Café' on one of the busiest days of the year. Everyone exchanged looks. One collective thought.
'We're doomed'