Different perspectives
Title: Different Perspectives
Author: xoxo_nat_xx
Pairing: Yesung/Ryeowook
Ratings: PG
Summary: A love story, told through the eyes of others.
Youths bustle and rush into my shop to get white chocolate mochas, and the festive atmosphere is tangible in the air. My regular customers greet me with a cheery wave and grin, and we banter a little while I prepare the coffee myself. Sometimes we talk about our days, what has past, and what’s left. Sometimes we talk about our grouches, and complaints, releasing all of them in this peaceful shop of mine.
I’ve always wanted to open such a coffee shop, for everyone to forget their worries, and just relax, with their friends, with their children, or their significant other. And thus it always amazes me that he is alone; I have only seen someone else with him once, and after that once, the other never turns up anymore.
He always orders two cups of coffee, one black, with no milk nor sugar added, and the other cappuccino, with chocolate flakes decorating the white frothy cream on it. Sitting in that corner all by himself, it never fails to puzzle me, that who his date is. Every single day, he sits in that corner, unnoticed by the passing crowd outside, which he observes through the window. Nobody really orders a black American tall anymore, and nobody arrives as early as him. I always have his orders ready when I open the door, because he is bound to walk in a few minutes after.
There’s this smile always gracing his face when he stares at the untouched cup of cappuccino across him, as he lift his own black coffee to his lips, and take this small sip. Sometimes I stare at him and wonder (he is a good-looking guy after all), think about what happened to him, and all his previous dates. But that happens rarely, because my customers always manage to claim my attention back a few seconds later.
------------------------
I always thought the police station was a place filled with agony and sadness, because it is where we receive news of another crime being committed, another murder, theft, rape, anything. It is the place where we bring back criminals, and we see parents, relatives, friends crying so hard because they don’t want to believe what’s playing in front of their eyes, but they have to, because we found the evidence.
I never thought that the police station could help entwine fates together, and possibly create another new future for others, in the positive sense. I’ve seen too many cruel ones, that I have become jaded, that I automatically assume everyone that steps in has a sad story to tell. And I’m glad to have met the both of them, because those two guys changed my perspective, and give me another reason why I love my job.
This youth came running into the police station one day, breathless and panting hard. He looked so young; the first number that came into my mind was around 17, and not more. He quickly explained that he had just lost his identification card in the vicinity, and was at a complete loss at what to do.
It’s a possible case of theft, I thought to myself, because his whole wallet was missing as well. He quickly assured us that there was nothing valuable inside his wallet, except for his identification card, which he was afraid someone would use it, in the wrong way. It’s surprising what youths store in their wallets these days, I mused quietly to my colleague, who nodded his agreement back.
He filled in this form which I needed to hand it up to the authorities above, so they could compile and prevent the identification card from being misused. A little curious, I snuck a peek at his form, and I was taken aback when he was actually already 22 years old. He definitely did not look like his age, which is something fortunate, I guess, unlike me, 48 years old and already balding.
Kim Ryeowook, he wrote in neat, cursive, bold letters, and he immediately then struck me as a quiet youth, someone who would complete his homework diligently, stay out of trouble and nonsense, and be a great figure in society in the future. My wife often laughed at my predictions, because whenever I thought I would win something from the lucky draw, I ended up with nothing in the end.
As he politely handed the form over to me, another young man barged in, eyes wide and flustered. He accidentally kicked his foot against the glass door as he pushed his way into the police station, and my young female colleague couldn’t resist a chuckle at that scene. I did a mock glare, and her eyes crinkled, standing up to help the other. Ryeowook quickly shifted to the side to allow this young man to address his issues. Indeed a young fine man.
The newcomer hurriedly shuffled his way forward, thrusting a hand towards us. He looked a little uncomfortable here, and it was no longer a surprise to me; sometimes I do feel uncomfortable as well, although I am an officer for 20 long years. His earring immediately caught my attention, and I raised an eyebrow at the cross dangling from his ear. He noticed my stare, and raised his head to meet my gaze.
There’s something about this intense stare that I couldn’t place my finger on, and I had to break contact in that instant. My female colleague giggled, and I glared at her; there was no reason to behave like this although this guy could be considered rather handsome, even by my standards. I looked down at the card that he was proffering, and something instantaneously clicked within me. I waved towards Ryeowook, who made his way over to look at the commotion.
Ryeowook raised his eyebrows in surprise as he saw his identification card, and he bowed deeply to the other man. The latter just shrugged and handed the identification card over, and a case’s settled without needing me to do anything.
Before the other left, Ryeowook swiftly raised a hand to introduce himself. The other just stared at it, and after a few seconds of deliberation, he raised his hand to lock the other’s in a firm handshake. When their gazes connect, I swear I saw Ryeowook shiver a little, involuntarily, as he was pierced by the other’s firm gaze.
“Yesung.” A curt reply, but I think I saw something more than just that, as Ryeowook left the police station with a slight smile on his lips.
-------------------
It’s not rare to see two guys walk into a florist shop together. Sometimes, some guys are too shy to enter by themselves, thinking that it will be awkward being seen in a flower shop buying flowers for their girlfriends. Or sometimes, some guys just don’t know what to pick for their girlfriends, and decide to ask their good buddies for some suggestions.
It’s like any other day when both of them walk in, and my assistant greets them with a smile. They nod back politely, and both of them are wearing caps, or beanies, covering their eyes a little. Perhaps there is a need to do so, as I hear my assistant inhale when she gets a good look at the guys. And she only does that when there are good-looking guys around.
I roll my eyes, immediately going over to serve the two guys before my assistant has the chance. She will probably be too struck by the beauty in front of her and become immobile, motionless. I stand a distance away, though, making myself approachable, yet not intrusive, so they can take their own time choosing.
The shorter one points to a sunflower, and I feel the edges of my mouth curve upwards into a smile. This guy has good taste; the sunflowers were just brought in this morning, fresh, and bright. Sunflowers are also my personal favourites, because that is how my husband proposed to me. I always think it as the flower that brings people together, because of its cheery disposition, and its bright nature.
As I turn towards them to recommend possible flowers to go along with the sunflowers, I notice the smile that is already on the taller one, as he plucks the freshest sunflower from the basket. He proffers it towards the other, as they stand side-by-side, and I positively see the other blush a furious red.
I see a hand make its way to rest on the other’s arm, pulling the other just a little closer, that it is not that suspicious, nor that eye-catching; as if they are just plain friends. But I know more, their gazes, touches and responses towards each other are just screaming at me that they are a couple.
And then I know, they are not the usual customers who come to my shop.
-------------------
Being a newspaper reporter is hard, and it is difficult to complete assignments that my boss has personally handed to me. I wonder why I ever became a tabloid reporter, chasing for all the gossips and relentlessly pursuing all the idols for some juicy news every single day. It’s not like I have nothing to do at all, but I can’t go against my boss’s orders and tell him to go and...you get the idea.
I have been chasing this particular person after some time, after rumours of him and another female celebrity arose. Both are very popular, supposedly taking the world by storm or something. After this particular drama named “You’re beautiful”, it’s not surprising to see everybody wanting to see more action between “Hwang Tae Kyung” and “Go Mi Nam”, who are Jang Geun Suk and Park Shin Hye respectively. And yes, so here I am, camping in the car waiting for either one of them to emerge from their company building.
Two people make their way towards the building, and I quickly motion for the cameraman to be on the alert as well. Our eyes are immediately trained onto the two discreet figures, and I feel excitement rising within me. I can almost feel the relish and relief at turning in a well-done assignment, and then probably getting promoted, a pay rise and everything.
But something’s wrong, both of them are definitely guys, and it isn’t our “You’re Beautiful” couple at all. In fact, I don’t recognize the both of them at all; perhaps they are both trainees, still not that famous. Both of them are acting suspiciously though, walking so close together, and their hands are brushing slightly against each other, but not holding yet.
I raise an eyebrow in annoyance, and quickly snap my fingers to order someone to tell me the identities of those two people on the street. Someone stuffs a file into my hand, and I cluck my tongue as I open to read their particulars. Yes, they are trainees, just like what I have predicted.
Kim Yesung, and Kim Ryeowook.
I raise my head to look at the both of them again, wondering what the hell they are doing out on a chilly night like this, instead of practising hard for their debut or whatsoever. The guy named Yesung looks around, a little furtively, and that catches my attention immediately. I motion to the cameraman to take some pictures, but he refuses, because the boss definitely will not appreciate these, according to him.
I exhale sharply, my breath coming out in a hiss. He is going to regret this so much when the night’s over, I swear. I turn my attention back to the two guys, and what happens next confirms my suspicions, and condemns the cameraman, and puts the whole crew in the van into shock.
Yesung leans down quickly to place a chaste kiss on Ryeowook’s forehead, and both of them break out into wide grins that threaten to light up the whole street. Yesung then tugs Ryeowook into their company building, their hands finally grabbing hold of each other, tight, and secure.
----------------------
I slump onto my chair, tired and bored out of my mind. Nobody buys newspapers anymore, I think to myself. With the Internet and everything, everybody is just grabbing news on their mobile phones and laptops, leaving these good-old printed newspapers unwanted, and on my stand. I huff to myself, silently shouting a thousand curses at this thing called globalisation.
It’s stealing the livelihood from me, a 65 year old man who just needs this few cents to survive one day. I had to forgo luxuries like kimchi and full meals three days per day when my business went bankrupt. All thanks to globalisation. Some company edged out mine, and I’m left with this newspaper stand, making a living by selling newspapers. My wife and children left me, and I’m alone, penniless, and have nothing to claim because globalisation stole everything away.
I shift my attention to the busy road filled with rich cars in front of me. When I have nothing to do, I prefer to watch cars, after all, collecting cars used to be my hobby. And all of a sudden, my left eye-lid starts twitching, and I raise a hand to soothe it, although there is this nagging feeling at the back of my head.
My mum always used to say, when she was alive, that whenever my eye-lid twitches, something bad is about to happen, and it is about to happen soon. I dismiss the thought with a flick of my wrist, what could probably worsen the state that I am already in now? It’s ironic, perhaps the left eye will help me to gain my riches back or something.
My eyes drift to the traffic junction on my right, and I lazily spot a car making its way peacefully towards the junction. It’s green light for them, so they are probably going to pass by me and stare at this pathetic old man at the side selling newspapers. Life’s unfair, I think to myself.
A few seconds later, I’m left staring wide-eyed, and really counting my lucky stars.
The two cars are in a wreck, a total mess, and it was the car I noticed earlier on. Apparently some other car must have sped and tried to defy the red light shining right in their faces, leading to this massive car crash. The former car is overturned, and it is mangled beyond recognition.
Oh shit, oh my god. There are two people in that car. And the amount of blood that is now spreading across the gravel. Oh god. One of them is reaching out blindly to the other, clutching the other’s hands tightly, and murmuring something over and over again. I make my way to the accident scene immediately, ordering someone to call for the ambulance immediately. Fortunately, there’s no oil leakage that can possibly lead to a fire, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Oh no, wait, one of the guys is unconscious, and he’s not responding. The other is just holding on to his hand tightly, not wanting to let go. Even when the paramedics come to lift them out of this mess, even when they have to do a crucial and critical save on the spot for the other guy. He just continues murmuring something over and over again, and everyone’s too shocked on the spot, to notice what he is saying.
Except me. And he’s repeating the other guy’s name over and over again, like the cry for a lost love.
He’s calling for Ryeowook.
--------------------------
Oh, no wonder he looks so familiar, I wonder quietly as I prepare the caramel frappe for two other kids. One of my regular customers just handed me a piece of the newspapers, and I read it, unhurried, when I had the free time just now.
He’s one of the trainees that got into an accident a few months ago, and he wasn’t badly hurt. The other wasn’t that fortunate after all, and had died from massive blood loss. Come to think of it, the accident scene was rather close to this area; perhaps they were on their way here when they got hurt?
Tabloid reporters really have nothing to do at times, I mutter angrily to myself, as I flip through the tabloid section to see reports of him and the other trainee. Headlines scream at a possible relationship between the two of them, saying that ‘Yesung’ and ‘Ryeowook’ have been hiding their relationship, or keeping it under wraps for at least one year. Even if they are, what’s the problem with that?
Oh, Korea doesn’t allow such relationships to be recognised yet. I wonder if Yesung is allowed to debut then, since he hasn’t officially rejected these claims, but hasn’t accepted them either. Or perhaps he decides to reject any chance of debuting at all, in memory of his potential band mate who has left him.
I think I vaguely recall the both of them coming into my cafe once, and yes, that was the only time I see Yesung with someone else, with Ryeowook. If I’m not wrong, Ryeowook ordered a cup of cappuccino, with chocolate flakes decorated into a heart shape on it. Yesung specifically asked for it that day, and I did it on a whim. Ryeowook was particularly delighted at the coffee, and that simple smile warmed me instantly that day.
Oh, oh. But I will keep that to myself.
Yesung raises the cup again to his lips, and smile gently against the rim of it. He stares lovingly at the untouched cup on the table, and he finishes the last bit of his coffee in his. He pulls out a small box out of his right pocket, and that gets my attention. He places it on the table, and pushes it so it’s right beside the cup of cappuccino.
Yesung smiles again, and he stands up to leave.
I hurry over once he left, and I open that small box, curious to see what’s inside.
It’s a ring, and inside the ring, the initials of Ryeowook, and Yesung, are engraved.
A/N: YAY! I got inspiration on my prom night hahaha. So here it is! Like 3 hours before I leave for the airport or something hahaha. Will be back next Monday! Till then!~ ^^v
Author: xoxo_nat_xx
Pairing: Yesung/Ryeowook
Ratings: PG
Summary: A love story, told through the eyes of others.
Youths bustle and rush into my shop to get white chocolate mochas, and the festive atmosphere is tangible in the air. My regular customers greet me with a cheery wave and grin, and we banter a little while I prepare the coffee myself. Sometimes we talk about our days, what has past, and what’s left. Sometimes we talk about our grouches, and complaints, releasing all of them in this peaceful shop of mine.
I’ve always wanted to open such a coffee shop, for everyone to forget their worries, and just relax, with their friends, with their children, or their significant other. And thus it always amazes me that he is alone; I have only seen someone else with him once, and after that once, the other never turns up anymore.
He always orders two cups of coffee, one black, with no milk nor sugar added, and the other cappuccino, with chocolate flakes decorating the white frothy cream on it. Sitting in that corner all by himself, it never fails to puzzle me, that who his date is. Every single day, he sits in that corner, unnoticed by the passing crowd outside, which he observes through the window. Nobody really orders a black American tall anymore, and nobody arrives as early as him. I always have his orders ready when I open the door, because he is bound to walk in a few minutes after.
There’s this smile always gracing his face when he stares at the untouched cup of cappuccino across him, as he lift his own black coffee to his lips, and take this small sip. Sometimes I stare at him and wonder (he is a good-looking guy after all), think about what happened to him, and all his previous dates. But that happens rarely, because my customers always manage to claim my attention back a few seconds later.
------------------------
I always thought the police station was a place filled with agony and sadness, because it is where we receive news of another crime being committed, another murder, theft, rape, anything. It is the place where we bring back criminals, and we see parents, relatives, friends crying so hard because they don’t want to believe what’s playing in front of their eyes, but they have to, because we found the evidence.
I never thought that the police station could help entwine fates together, and possibly create another new future for others, in the positive sense. I’ve seen too many cruel ones, that I have become jaded, that I automatically assume everyone that steps in has a sad story to tell. And I’m glad to have met the both of them, because those two guys changed my perspective, and give me another reason why I love my job.
This youth came running into the police station one day, breathless and panting hard. He looked so young; the first number that came into my mind was around 17, and not more. He quickly explained that he had just lost his identification card in the vicinity, and was at a complete loss at what to do.
It’s a possible case of theft, I thought to myself, because his whole wallet was missing as well. He quickly assured us that there was nothing valuable inside his wallet, except for his identification card, which he was afraid someone would use it, in the wrong way. It’s surprising what youths store in their wallets these days, I mused quietly to my colleague, who nodded his agreement back.
He filled in this form which I needed to hand it up to the authorities above, so they could compile and prevent the identification card from being misused. A little curious, I snuck a peek at his form, and I was taken aback when he was actually already 22 years old. He definitely did not look like his age, which is something fortunate, I guess, unlike me, 48 years old and already balding.
Kim Ryeowook, he wrote in neat, cursive, bold letters, and he immediately then struck me as a quiet youth, someone who would complete his homework diligently, stay out of trouble and nonsense, and be a great figure in society in the future. My wife often laughed at my predictions, because whenever I thought I would win something from the lucky draw, I ended up with nothing in the end.
As he politely handed the form over to me, another young man barged in, eyes wide and flustered. He accidentally kicked his foot against the glass door as he pushed his way into the police station, and my young female colleague couldn’t resist a chuckle at that scene. I did a mock glare, and her eyes crinkled, standing up to help the other. Ryeowook quickly shifted to the side to allow this young man to address his issues. Indeed a young fine man.
The newcomer hurriedly shuffled his way forward, thrusting a hand towards us. He looked a little uncomfortable here, and it was no longer a surprise to me; sometimes I do feel uncomfortable as well, although I am an officer for 20 long years. His earring immediately caught my attention, and I raised an eyebrow at the cross dangling from his ear. He noticed my stare, and raised his head to meet my gaze.
There’s something about this intense stare that I couldn’t place my finger on, and I had to break contact in that instant. My female colleague giggled, and I glared at her; there was no reason to behave like this although this guy could be considered rather handsome, even by my standards. I looked down at the card that he was proffering, and something instantaneously clicked within me. I waved towards Ryeowook, who made his way over to look at the commotion.
Ryeowook raised his eyebrows in surprise as he saw his identification card, and he bowed deeply to the other man. The latter just shrugged and handed the identification card over, and a case’s settled without needing me to do anything.
Before the other left, Ryeowook swiftly raised a hand to introduce himself. The other just stared at it, and after a few seconds of deliberation, he raised his hand to lock the other’s in a firm handshake. When their gazes connect, I swear I saw Ryeowook shiver a little, involuntarily, as he was pierced by the other’s firm gaze.
“Yesung.” A curt reply, but I think I saw something more than just that, as Ryeowook left the police station with a slight smile on his lips.
-------------------
It’s not rare to see two guys walk into a florist shop together. Sometimes, some guys are too shy to enter by themselves, thinking that it will be awkward being seen in a flower shop buying flowers for their girlfriends. Or sometimes, some guys just don’t know what to pick for their girlfriends, and decide to ask their good buddies for some suggestions.
It’s like any other day when both of them walk in, and my assistant greets them with a smile. They nod back politely, and both of them are wearing caps, or beanies, covering their eyes a little. Perhaps there is a need to do so, as I hear my assistant inhale when she gets a good look at the guys. And she only does that when there are good-looking guys around.
I roll my eyes, immediately going over to serve the two guys before my assistant has the chance. She will probably be too struck by the beauty in front of her and become immobile, motionless. I stand a distance away, though, making myself approachable, yet not intrusive, so they can take their own time choosing.
The shorter one points to a sunflower, and I feel the edges of my mouth curve upwards into a smile. This guy has good taste; the sunflowers were just brought in this morning, fresh, and bright. Sunflowers are also my personal favourites, because that is how my husband proposed to me. I always think it as the flower that brings people together, because of its cheery disposition, and its bright nature.
As I turn towards them to recommend possible flowers to go along with the sunflowers, I notice the smile that is already on the taller one, as he plucks the freshest sunflower from the basket. He proffers it towards the other, as they stand side-by-side, and I positively see the other blush a furious red.
I see a hand make its way to rest on the other’s arm, pulling the other just a little closer, that it is not that suspicious, nor that eye-catching; as if they are just plain friends. But I know more, their gazes, touches and responses towards each other are just screaming at me that they are a couple.
And then I know, they are not the usual customers who come to my shop.
-------------------
Being a newspaper reporter is hard, and it is difficult to complete assignments that my boss has personally handed to me. I wonder why I ever became a tabloid reporter, chasing for all the gossips and relentlessly pursuing all the idols for some juicy news every single day. It’s not like I have nothing to do at all, but I can’t go against my boss’s orders and tell him to go and...you get the idea.
I have been chasing this particular person after some time, after rumours of him and another female celebrity arose. Both are very popular, supposedly taking the world by storm or something. After this particular drama named “You’re beautiful”, it’s not surprising to see everybody wanting to see more action between “Hwang Tae Kyung” and “Go Mi Nam”, who are Jang Geun Suk and Park Shin Hye respectively. And yes, so here I am, camping in the car waiting for either one of them to emerge from their company building.
Two people make their way towards the building, and I quickly motion for the cameraman to be on the alert as well. Our eyes are immediately trained onto the two discreet figures, and I feel excitement rising within me. I can almost feel the relish and relief at turning in a well-done assignment, and then probably getting promoted, a pay rise and everything.
But something’s wrong, both of them are definitely guys, and it isn’t our “You’re Beautiful” couple at all. In fact, I don’t recognize the both of them at all; perhaps they are both trainees, still not that famous. Both of them are acting suspiciously though, walking so close together, and their hands are brushing slightly against each other, but not holding yet.
I raise an eyebrow in annoyance, and quickly snap my fingers to order someone to tell me the identities of those two people on the street. Someone stuffs a file into my hand, and I cluck my tongue as I open to read their particulars. Yes, they are trainees, just like what I have predicted.
Kim Yesung, and Kim Ryeowook.
I raise my head to look at the both of them again, wondering what the hell they are doing out on a chilly night like this, instead of practising hard for their debut or whatsoever. The guy named Yesung looks around, a little furtively, and that catches my attention immediately. I motion to the cameraman to take some pictures, but he refuses, because the boss definitely will not appreciate these, according to him.
I exhale sharply, my breath coming out in a hiss. He is going to regret this so much when the night’s over, I swear. I turn my attention back to the two guys, and what happens next confirms my suspicions, and condemns the cameraman, and puts the whole crew in the van into shock.
Yesung leans down quickly to place a chaste kiss on Ryeowook’s forehead, and both of them break out into wide grins that threaten to light up the whole street. Yesung then tugs Ryeowook into their company building, their hands finally grabbing hold of each other, tight, and secure.
----------------------
I slump onto my chair, tired and bored out of my mind. Nobody buys newspapers anymore, I think to myself. With the Internet and everything, everybody is just grabbing news on their mobile phones and laptops, leaving these good-old printed newspapers unwanted, and on my stand. I huff to myself, silently shouting a thousand curses at this thing called globalisation.
It’s stealing the livelihood from me, a 65 year old man who just needs this few cents to survive one day. I had to forgo luxuries like kimchi and full meals three days per day when my business went bankrupt. All thanks to globalisation. Some company edged out mine, and I’m left with this newspaper stand, making a living by selling newspapers. My wife and children left me, and I’m alone, penniless, and have nothing to claim because globalisation stole everything away.
I shift my attention to the busy road filled with rich cars in front of me. When I have nothing to do, I prefer to watch cars, after all, collecting cars used to be my hobby. And all of a sudden, my left eye-lid starts twitching, and I raise a hand to soothe it, although there is this nagging feeling at the back of my head.
My mum always used to say, when she was alive, that whenever my eye-lid twitches, something bad is about to happen, and it is about to happen soon. I dismiss the thought with a flick of my wrist, what could probably worsen the state that I am already in now? It’s ironic, perhaps the left eye will help me to gain my riches back or something.
My eyes drift to the traffic junction on my right, and I lazily spot a car making its way peacefully towards the junction. It’s green light for them, so they are probably going to pass by me and stare at this pathetic old man at the side selling newspapers. Life’s unfair, I think to myself.
A few seconds later, I’m left staring wide-eyed, and really counting my lucky stars.
The two cars are in a wreck, a total mess, and it was the car I noticed earlier on. Apparently some other car must have sped and tried to defy the red light shining right in their faces, leading to this massive car crash. The former car is overturned, and it is mangled beyond recognition.
Oh shit, oh my god. There are two people in that car. And the amount of blood that is now spreading across the gravel. Oh god. One of them is reaching out blindly to the other, clutching the other’s hands tightly, and murmuring something over and over again. I make my way to the accident scene immediately, ordering someone to call for the ambulance immediately. Fortunately, there’s no oil leakage that can possibly lead to a fire, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Oh no, wait, one of the guys is unconscious, and he’s not responding. The other is just holding on to his hand tightly, not wanting to let go. Even when the paramedics come to lift them out of this mess, even when they have to do a crucial and critical save on the spot for the other guy. He just continues murmuring something over and over again, and everyone’s too shocked on the spot, to notice what he is saying.
Except me. And he’s repeating the other guy’s name over and over again, like the cry for a lost love.
He’s calling for Ryeowook.
--------------------------
Oh, no wonder he looks so familiar, I wonder quietly as I prepare the caramel frappe for two other kids. One of my regular customers just handed me a piece of the newspapers, and I read it, unhurried, when I had the free time just now.
He’s one of the trainees that got into an accident a few months ago, and he wasn’t badly hurt. The other wasn’t that fortunate after all, and had died from massive blood loss. Come to think of it, the accident scene was rather close to this area; perhaps they were on their way here when they got hurt?
Tabloid reporters really have nothing to do at times, I mutter angrily to myself, as I flip through the tabloid section to see reports of him and the other trainee. Headlines scream at a possible relationship between the two of them, saying that ‘Yesung’ and ‘Ryeowook’ have been hiding their relationship, or keeping it under wraps for at least one year. Even if they are, what’s the problem with that?
Oh, Korea doesn’t allow such relationships to be recognised yet. I wonder if Yesung is allowed to debut then, since he hasn’t officially rejected these claims, but hasn’t accepted them either. Or perhaps he decides to reject any chance of debuting at all, in memory of his potential band mate who has left him.
I think I vaguely recall the both of them coming into my cafe once, and yes, that was the only time I see Yesung with someone else, with Ryeowook. If I’m not wrong, Ryeowook ordered a cup of cappuccino, with chocolate flakes decorated into a heart shape on it. Yesung specifically asked for it that day, and I did it on a whim. Ryeowook was particularly delighted at the coffee, and that simple smile warmed me instantly that day.
Oh, oh. But I will keep that to myself.
Yesung raises the cup again to his lips, and smile gently against the rim of it. He stares lovingly at the untouched cup on the table, and he finishes the last bit of his coffee in his. He pulls out a small box out of his right pocket, and that gets my attention. He places it on the table, and pushes it so it’s right beside the cup of cappuccino.
Yesung smiles again, and he stands up to leave.
I hurry over once he left, and I open that small box, curious to see what’s inside.
It’s a ring, and inside the ring, the initials of Ryeowook, and Yesung, are engraved.
A/N: YAY! I got inspiration on my prom night hahaha. So here it is! Like 3 hours before I leave for the airport or something hahaha. Will be back next Monday! Till then!~ ^^v