MOON U

You already warned him that this would happen, but he was too stubborn to follow. Wonwoo feels the early afternoon air against his face as he walks the streets of the city with one destination in mind: the coffee shop, Hanabira. 

He knows these streets all too well; the few apartment buildings among different restaurants and small businesses that seemingly fall together, the trees and light posts lining up the streets, the idle chatter of people, a string familiar of faces, even the cracks in the gravel full of perennial plants – all of these fell into place fitting like a puzzle, just like you and him, he thought.

It was also in these streets that he discovered his ability to time travel many years ago. Ever since then, he felt as if a huge responsibility rested upon his shoulders and at the same time, felt like nothing mattered, everything and anything was temporary – well, until he met you. You who drink coffee as if it were water, you who choose to walk with him on this very same street every time he asks you to, you who remember every single detail of your (and his) favorite books, plays, and songs and still manage to become forgetful. You who became the permanent fixture in his life among those that faded away. 

He thinks back to when he asked what would you do if you had the ability to time travel. You had said that it would be a big responsibility to have, after all, you can change a lot of things that can alter human history. In terms of your personal life, you told Wonwoo that you would leave it exactly as it is. 

The afternoon light was streaming through the blinds of his room, creatively lighting up the room as the both of you lounge on his bed. Wonwoo grabbed your hand as you sat up on your elbows.

“I’d rather not change anything in the past. Everything felt circumstantial, you know?” you pondered. “The day I met you, I wouldn’t change a thing. I love you and I want to meet you the very second we did.”

The bell on the door of Hanabira jingles as he walks in, the smell of coffee and vanilla greeting him. He remembers the day you met as if it were just yesterday. He smiles lightly as he recalls it. 

During the middle of the day, Hanabira was booming with customers in line to get their cup of coffee and baked pastries. It was not a surprise that there was a long line that almost reached the entrance door. However, the peak hour was not the only reason why the line is long— you were there, holding up the line because you were short 10 won. 

Wonwoo sees the panic in your eyes as you dig up your wallet, bag, and pockets to find nothing but a few paper receipts. He can’t help but notice how you already had a large coffee stain on your torso, coffee you probably spilled hours before. “Here,” he said as he gave the cashier 10 won, realizing he must put you out of your misery. 

“Thank you,” you breathed out. “I’m not usually unprepared like this, if you don’t mind to keep in contact so I can pay you back.”

Wonwoo was surprised to see you look like you’re about to cry, wearing a coffee-stained long-sleeved shirt, and yet, you had this determined look on your face as if he just paid 1,000 won instead of 10. 

“Sure,” he replies, speechless. 

The rest was history. Wonwoo was glad he had 10 won to spare that day, for he felt like he was the luckiest man to have met you. He still does. Wonwoo would do everything just to see you happy. Wonwoo walked into Hanabira, taking in the place. It gives him a little comfort seeing how everything is still the same—it still looks like the same favorite place you ever so loved.

He looked over to the corner where the both of you sat and when you had poured your heart out to him. He remembered how you opened up to him that day in this very coffee shop, thinking that a heart-wrenching conversation with a random (cute) stranger that you would probably never meet again would help ease the pain.  Wonwoo recalled how you explained to him that the reason you were tense and bought coffee with not enough money was that you missed an interview for a screenwriter position, your dream job. He found it ridiculous that you would not even change this part of your past if given the ability to time travel.

“But that interview was your dream, wouldn’t you at least try to change the past and attend the interview like you always wanted?” Wonwoo asks.

“Well, yeah. It is my dream. But still, I know I can do my best even without that interview. Even if I have to do other positions first before being promoted to a screenwriter. I know I’ll get there,” you said wistfully. “Besides, if I made it to that interview, I wouldn’t have met you, you know. And I couldn’t have that!” you said teasingly.

Wonwoo had laughed along with you then, but it got him thinking. It has been your dream since you were a kid. He remembers how you passionately defended the beauty of being a screenwriter when he expressed that being a director sounded more appealing, just to tease you. 

“Screenwriters bring the magic directors can show. One is not above the other—both are staples to create something so beautiful in harmony through plays, movies and the like!” you attested.

It took you a while to realize that he was just messing with you, a feat that was rewarded with a slap in the arm. But it was then that he knew how much this meant to you. And Wonwoo, well, he wanted to give everything to you—even the world, if he can.

If there was one thing that Wonwoo learned and proved with his time travel abilities, it was the chaos theory, specifically the butterfly effect. It amused him how little changes really do cause big changes in a course of events, which is why he had to be careful and think about the repercussions of changing anything as little as moving the position of a park bench. It was how he just changed the batteries of a certain bus driver’s alarm clock that caused you to ride a bus that did not have reckless driving skills, which meant that you did not spill your coffee all over yourself and your resume. Which means that you had successfully entered the interview of your dream job, prepared, polished, and caffeinated. 

“Sir? Excuse me, sir? I said that would be 4,400 won,” the cashier calls out. 

Wonwoo snapped out of his reverie and handed the cashier his bills, “Sorry, I spaced out. Thank you.”

It has been three years in the timeline where you made it to the interview. You made it, Y/N, Wonwoo thinks as he sees your name is becoming known in the film industry. He wanted to celebrate with you, but in this timeline, he would just be another stranger to you. He knew this would happen, but he still went on and change the past despite you refuting the idea before.

“What if we still meet afterwards, in another day? Would you change the past this time?” he asks you.

You hummed, “It’s a risk, I still wouldn’t do it if I don’t have the reassurance that we’ll meet again.”

“I’m sure we’ll meet again in this scenario.”

“How sure are you? I think it was because of our decisions that day that we met, so, I still wouldn’t change a thing even though it would get me to that interview,” you said while tracing circles on his arm.

“No, I think it’s because of fate that we met,” he replied.

You raised your head from his chest to meet his eyes, “I didn’t take you for a sappy romantic.”

He chuckled, you felt the reverberations on his chest, “No, I just think we’re fated together, Y/N. I think that even if you were a popular, in-demand screenwriter, we’d still find our way to each other.”

“So in this scenario I'm popular and in-demand you say? What if I turn into a snob and refuse to meet you with all that fueling my ego?” you laughed.

“All the more why I should be there to pull you back down!” Wonwoo responded, suddenly attempting to tickle you. You laughed at the unexpected attack and responded with the same action. Both of you were lost in a series of laughs and tangled limbs.

Wonwoo recalled the memory with a bittersweet feeling. Of course, he considered looking for you and introducing himself, but he couldn’t think of a way that would not make him look like a madman. Hi, I’m Wonwoo. You were the love of my life in another timeline? He had not even told you of his time travel abilities before. He went to all the previous places you used to live in, but you never resided there in the present timeline. You had warned him that this would be a big change, that it would come with the risks of not meeting each other—and yet, he went ahead and did it. Still, he does not regret he did it. He just wishes he could be there to see you happy to have achieved your lifelong dream.

Back in the coffee shop, Wonwoo decided to take a walk outside with a sigh. We’ll meet again, I’m sure of it, he thinks. As soon as he went out Hanabira, he collided with someone and spilled the remainder of his now cold coffee onto the floor. Wonwoo noticed the dog first, and looked at the person. It was you.

“I am so sorry! My dog suddenly dragged me and ran all the way here, I swear he doesn’t usually get like this!” you said apologetically. 

“It’s okay, he was probably just excited,” Wonwoo chuckled, as he kneeled down and petted the dog. Well, aren’t you a good boy, he thinks as he continues to pet the dog.

“Yeah, he loves walking in this part of the city!” you said, relieved. “I’m sorry I spilled your coffee though, how can I make it up to you?”

Wonwoo looks up at you with a smile, “What about a coffee for a coffee?” I told you it’s fate Y/N, we are just destined together in every timeline, he thinks. He stood up, reached out his hand, and said “Wonwoo, by the way.”

You’d say, oh you’re so dramatic. But, that is the point; Joshua Hong is of flawless theatrics, he is the details of a meticulous oil painting, he is written in a classic romance novel, he is the calm of the sea.

To everybody, he sounds like a living breathing perfect man, but to them, he is the perfect man to despise.

Photography has been part of y/n’s life ever since they can remember. It is calming, comforting, and all at the same time challenging; the art of photography takes precision, artistry, and most importantly, the right moment—and it took one man to ruin all three.

They still remember the exact moment of when they missed a perfectly timed and potentially beautiful photograph, because the view of their camera was blocked by an arm. More specifically, Joshua’s arm. It didn’t help that he was attempting to take a picture of the exact moment they were trying to capture and the successful click of his camera was enough to piss them off.

Joshua, on the other hand, couldn’t know exactly why this person just went up to him suddenly accusing him of things relentlessly. He would’ve listened and apologized if it wasn’t for the stressful week he just had; he had hoped to relax while taking pictures and not engage in an argument. Photography has been calming, serene, and happy-inducing. Y/N is the opposite of that. They are a scorching fire, an unceasing force, like a hypnotizing performance—dangerous yet, amusing.

Consequently, both parties have tried to one-up the other, even in leisure photography, ever since. Both of them have clashed in competitions countless of times—this just further added insult to injury. Needless to say, it was the start of the blossoming of their silent rivalry.

It has been a little over four years and the unspoken competition is still going on, partly because of pride, and partly because of pettiness. Living in the same neighborhood became convenient for their rivalry to last all these years. They find themselves having conversations that always end up in squabbles, clipped tones, and a long-forgotten, tired third party.

—

It is an understatement to say that y/n’s friend, Yuri, has been promoting her other friend to them like a challenged entrepreneur. Here’s what they know about her friend so far: he is tall, said to like photography as much as they do, likes to create bracelets, plays the guitar, has a heavenly and calming voice, and they quote, “so kind that it seems unreal.”

And it does seem unreal. They think that mystery man, the nickname they coined for him, couldn’t exist. It left them an impression that everything Yuri has said is just extra-romanticized, mixed with the right pizazz.

Yuri is convinced that her so-called friend and y/n would be perfect together; she thinks that they would get along personality-wise and that the common hobbies are only a bonus. Yuri is the type who loves fairytales, romance novels, and any cliché tropes that it didn’t come to y/n as a surprise when she didn’t want to tell them his name for “first introductions should always feel special,” she said. Y/N personally thinks it’s pointless considering she tells them everything about him but his name. Usually, they wouldn't mind her gushing about different sappy things she finds interest in, but they wished it wasn't directed to them.

They’re not gonna lie, right now, they’re more interested in what kind of pictures they’re going to take next and how it will beat Joshua Hong. It’s all planned, they would try new techniques, it should exactly be the moment when the sun goes down—

“Are you even listening?” Yuri exclaimed.

Y/N looked at her with wide eyes. “You were talking about mystery man?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m setting you up on a date, I already told him and he seems to be down for it!” Yuri held their hand, “All I need is your answer.”

They were getting ready to reject the offer because why would they trust a man over word of mouth?

“Wait! Before you answer, I told him about the band you love so much and he said he’s a fan.” Y/N was, again, about to interject when Yuri cut them off.

“I told him you recommended them to me and even made him sing the lyrics and he genuinely does know them before you doubt him,” she narrowed her eyes.

Rockets is an underground band they discovered after being bored on the internet for hours. It wasn’t long when they found themself playing their songs on repeat for weeks. Y/N always thinks they should be more known with the kind of music they’re releasing and recommended them to many friends.

Y/N doesn’t know who they are or what they look like, but they do know how much their songs have comforted them through a lot. Finding out that mystery man is also a fan piqued their interest.

Yuri smiled at their change of expression and knew she finally got them. They nodded, “Okay, I’m in.”

—

The place Yuri had reserved was an old simple restaurant with different bands coming in to play every Friday night. It’s called the Sixth Night, in reference to the special Fridays they always have. It has a bar where people who opt for casual drinking and dining can go to. It is the perfect place for hang-outs or dates that do not seek anything too fancy. Y/N was thankful that they brought their camera with them for the place is beautiful; It has a decorative and maximalist interior, most of the furniture being wood, completed with a dim warm lighting. The band of the night is currently playing a familiar pop ballad, bringing a slight brush of nostalgia.

While drinking in the atmosphere and finding the right angles, y/n thought about how they’ll approach the mystery man. The only information Yuri gave them about him was what he’ll be wearing tonight – a punch pink cardigan with a white undershirt, paired with simple jeans. They tried not to think about how silly this whole set-up is, maybe if Yuri just introduced them like a normal person, they wouldn’t be worrying about finding their date-but-not-really-a-date for tonight.

They let their thoughts wander to mystery man while taking photos. Besides the fact that he knows the band Rockets, he sounded like a pretty nice man from Yuri’s endless stories. They recalled the time she told her about how mystery man shouldered one of her groupmate’s work and ended up spending an all-nighter because Yuri was close to breaking down. Or how he’s a volunteer for his university’s children’s organization. Everything about this man just sounds surreal.

Y/N was in the middle of reminiscing while scrolling through her photos when they felt a tap on their shoulder. “Hey, are you Yuri’s–” he cuts off when he sees their face.

“Joshua?” they said incredulously, while looking at the exact description of the outfit of mystery man.

“–friend. Y/N?” he trailed off.

“No way,” they shook their head.

Joshua and Y/N stared, in disbelief. The gears in their heads turning as they connect the dots in Yuri’s description of the other.

Y/N realized that Yuri has never been in the same room as them and Joshua. Still, they’re thinking whether she really doesn’t know they hate each other or if they pissed her off and this is some form of her revenge.

It isn’t the first time somebody told them both that they would match well if they get rid of whatever they had going on and they violently disagreed every time, because it’s just impossible. It’s the first time, however, that someone has managed to be successful in making them interested in each other, without knowing. And suddenly, it is not impossible, it is real.

“I can’t believe Yuri managed to convince us to dive in head first into a date,” he said, breaking the silence.

Y/N agreed, “Who would’ve thought that the Joshua I know likes making bracelets?”

He narrowed his eyes, “Who would’ve thought that you like crocheting?”

“Crocheting is actually much more interesting than making bracelets, thank you very much,” they responded.

“Knowing you, I thought photography is the only thing your world revolves around,” he scoffed.

“I could say the same about you.”

He chuckled at that. They indulged in the atmosphere of the restaurant, another acoustic pop music filling in their ears. Y/N decided to take more pictures to distract themself in the current situation they can’t quite place a finger in.

“It’s a nice place, I wish I had brought my camera with me too,” he said as y/n took more pictures, conveniently not looking at Joshua and how the lighting highlights his features.

“I think your skills would not do this justice.” Joshua didn’t have to look at their face behind the camera to know they’re smirking.

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And yours would?”

“It would definitely suffice,” they took a glance at him smiling, raising an eyebrow themself.

Joshua looked like he wanted to disagree but decided to say nothing. Unable to resist the ambience of the surroundings, he gingerly took out his phone and began taking pictures. He tried not to dwell on the fact that it would have been perfect if he had brought his camera with him.

Y/N took pity on him as soon as they noticed that Joshua’s only taking pictures with his phone camera. Genuinely, they asked him if he wants borrow their camera, bringing it up to his vision.

Joshua gasped dramatically, “The Y/N, allowing me to hold and use their beloved camera? Am I dreaming?”

“If you don’t want it, then don’t use it,” they said narrowing their eyes.

“No, no. Let me savor this moment,” he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Oh shut it and just take your pictures,” they grumbled. Joshua shushed them with his hand and kept his eyes closed.

“Okay, moment taken,” he finally opened his eyes and smiled cheekily, y/n looked at him incredulously. Joshua laughed in response but accepted their camera nonetheless.

Y/N can’t help but observe him while he takes pictures of the surroundings. They are still piecing together the pieces of the Joshua they know and of mystery man. They will never admit it out loud, but they have always found Joshua attractive, something they failed to overlook but managed to disregard in the course of their rivalry. Knowing all this additional information Yuri has provided, it was getting a little harder to ignore it, or more precisely him. All this thinking made their brain go into overdrive.

Contrastingly, Joshua is having fun. He had always found teasing and competing with y/n fun, no matter what situation. He had no problem with the whole date set-up, in fact, he wants to go through with it. It will definitely be interesting, there was no dull moment with them; he wondered what they thought of this whole thing.

Y/N chalked it up to the atmosphere of the restaurant, or the soft tune of the piano, or the acoustic love song filling their ears that led them to decide to enjoy the night, why not? he had asked. And enjoy the night, they did. They talked about hundreds of things before settling down for their meal; their academics, other interests besides photography, a game of would you rather that sparked debates, and many more.

They soon fell into silence as they indulged in their food. Years of being exposed to each other’s presence didn’t make it awkward.

“So, I heard you like the Rockets band?” Joshua broke the silence.

Their eyes lit up, before clearing their throat. “I love them! I’m surprised you listen to them too. I mean, not that they’re not worth listening to. But like, they’re very lowkey, you know? Which I don’t understand, because their songs are good and they shouldn’t hide it! Although, I understand they might want privacy or something but—God, I’m rambling. Sorry,” they covered their face, blushing.

Joshua only watched and listened, with fondness evident in his eyes. “No, it’s okay! I– my friends had told me they’re really good. I like their lyrics the most, I could relate to them.”

If y/n squinted, they would have noticed the light pink that tinged his cheeks. “I agree! I don’t want to sound all cheesy, but their songs bring a lot of comfort to me. I wish they know that they have people like us who support them.”

“They probably would like that,” Joshua smiled. “I actually have a confession to make,” he said after a moment.

“What is it?” they replied.

“I know one of the Rockets’ band members.”

“No way! Who– I mean– wow, okay. I’m totally not curious at all.”

Joshua laughed, “They mentioned something about performing live and finally promoting the band, you’ll be the first to know when I find out.”

“That’d be really great! We can watch them live together,” they exclaimed, and then blushing when they realize what they just implied. They cleared their throat, “if you want.”

“Of course,” he smiled.

After talking a bit more about the band, asking about their favorite songs and the like, they resumed to other topics, venturing to their common friend, Yuri, and, unsurprisingly, photography. They’ve managed to have a conversation about their favorite hobby without arguing like two children, a very challenging feat to overcome. The night ended unexpectedly well. More than well, in fact. Joshua and Y/N both went home quite satisfied, maybe even a little giddy.

—

It’s been three days since their date-not-so-date night. Yuri and Y/N met in the cafeteria when she asked them about the night; they had to explain that they already knew each other and they have a little rivalry in photography going on. Y/N narrowed their eyes at her and asked if she already knew about that.

“Oh no! I swear, I didn’t,” Yuri exclaimed, wincing. “I take it that the night didn’t go well, then?”

Y/N raised their eyebrows, and much to their friend’s satisfaction, blushed. “It went okay.”

“By the look on your face, it went more than okay,” she said teasingly.

“Well, we did enjoy the night. The restaurant was a nice place, they had great food.”

“Sure, the restaurant. This will mark the end of your rivalry and the beginning of something more,” she giggled. “Oh, you guys will so thank me later for this.”

Y/N shook their head and continued eating their food. They hadn’t considered thinking about what this would mean with their ongoing rivalry, are they friends now? Will they stop competing with each other? Thinking of remaining to be “enemies” tugged at their heart, but the thought of stopping their competition with their photography crushed their heart altogether. When did they look forward to their little skirmishes?

As if sensing that he’s being thought about, Joshua suddenly texted. Yuri glanced at the sudden sound. “Oh my god, you’re textmates now?”

“No, he had just asked for my number to make sure I got home safe that night.”

The text read:

Joshua Hong: Hey Y/N! You’ll be glad to know Rockets is performing their first gig on Friday, at Sixth Night. I’m wondering if you’re free to come?

Y/N: Hey! Yes, I am!!!

Joshua Hong: Alright, I’ll see you there. :)

“That’s totally a date,” Yuri said, looking over their shoulder.

“It is not, we just happen to like Rockets very much,” they replied.

“Okay, whatever you say.”

—

When Friday arrived, Y/N found themself at the entrance of Sixth Night. The restaurant was still as atmospheric as the last time they visited. The only difference is that there were expectedly more people inside, many were lounging around the bar and different corners. It didn’t take long for people to find out that Rockets will be performing, and a new band was always anticipated among their peers. It is noticeably more than the usual crowd whenever there's a new band playing, knowing Rockets already has quite the number of listeners even underground.

Y/N quickly texted Joshua, asking his whereabouts. It was already nearing 9 PM and Rockets was scheduled to perform then, they can’t help but wonder if they’ve been ditched. They tried to look for Yuri, but the little crowds were not dispersing. They finally settled in a corner with a good view of the little platform of the band, they will not let being stood up will not get in the way of them enjoying their favorite band.

Checking their phone one last time, a text popped up from Joshua:

Joshua Hong: I’m here! Just a heads up, it’s you.

Confused is an understatement, what does he mean it’s me? They glanced around the place to look for him, failing to see him. They shook their head and decided to think about it later, they couldn’t miss the Rockets’ performance.

An announcer came up on the little platform for the bands, announcing the next act. “For the closing performance, it has come to my attention that this special band has been anticipated tonight. This will be their first ever stage live! Give it up for, Rockets!”

The lights around the restaurant became dimmer, leaving the soft yellow spotlight on stage. The silhouettes of the Rockets’ band members were noticeable, Y/N’s heart beating out of their chest with anticipation. One of the members started playing the first tunes of one of their songs repeatedly on an electric guitar, while the other stepped into the microphone stand, the light illuminating his face.

Shocked, surprised were both an understatement. Standing on stage were none other than their rival for more than four years, their newly found Rockets “fan,” their date for tonight, Joshua Hong. Y/N’s heart still felt like it’s beating out of their chest, but now, for a different reason. They felt themself blush furiously, trying to recall their conversation last week; they realized he didn’t exactly lie outright, but he did lie by omission. Oh, you sneaky, devious little— they covered their face with their hands, their brain coiled.

Of all the things that had happened the past week, including tonight, what surprised them the most is that they’re not even mad. In fact, they feel ridiculously exhilarated; because, of course, it just had to be Joshua — my mystery man, my favorite band, my rival. It seems like our paths are too intertwined, they thought.

“I would like to say good evening to everyone here,” Joshua started. “It is an honor to play here live at Sixth Night, I hope everybody will enjoy the show,” he said, looking around the crowd. “My name is Joshua and my bandmate over here playing the guitar is Vernon.” Vernon glanced up to flash a smile.

“I would like to dedicate this first song to this wonderful person I’ve known for a long time, who has been occupying my thoughts more than I’d like to admit,” he continued. Joshua’s text echoed through their mind, Just a heads up, it’s you.

It’s you.

Y/N instantly recognized the song, it was the song that they mentioned to be their favorite the last time they were here. Joshua started singing, and they couldn’t help but join in with some of the people who were singing too. It was good, amazing, surreal. It didn’t take long for Joshua to find their eyes and make eye contact. Their eyes seemed to have conversation of their own as Joshua sang and Y/N mouthing the words back.

Rockets band played three more songs afterwards, before ending the night. Many people came up to them to congratulate and even take a few pictures. But, the person who Joshua wanted to see hasn’t gone to them yet. He looked at every person calling them with hopeful eyes, only to be disappointed.

Vernon noticed this and said, “Don’t worry, man. They’re probably just waiting for the crowd to disperse.”

It was not until he was exiting the Sixth Night that he saw Y/N waiting by the door. He grimaced inside as he recalled his text, Just a heads up, it’s you. He thought it was thoughtful and cool when he typed it, but now, it just sounded ridiculous.

“Hey,” Joshua called quietly. “Are you mad?”

Y/N looked up, surprised. “No, I’m not mad! I was just waiting for you, I–” they brushed their hair, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t be a bother to me,” Joshua smiled. “I was waiting for you too.”

Y/N smiled in response, but remembering that they had been lied to by omission, narrowed their eyes and crossed their arms. “You just conveniently forgot to tell me that you are the vocalist of Rockets?”

“Well, I might’ve forgotten to tell you that part,” Joshua scrunched his nose, acting to be in thought.

“You just wanted me to tell you all those compliments and my favorite song,” they continued, their eyes filled with mirth.

Joshua took a step closer. “Yeah, it was very flattering. Especially coming from you,” Joshua agreed, eyes twinkling. “I wanted to ask you your favorite song for the dedication, and maybe that will persuade you to agree to a dinner with me next week,” he said, offering his hand.

“Unbelievable,” they shook their head, smiling and accepting his hand. “You definitely owe me one, Joshua Hong.”

—

It was after many dates, banters, and continued competitions— less hateful from now on — for photography to change for Joshua and Y/N. It was not long before they became each other’s favorite subject to capture; Joshua used to turn to photography for a place of serenity, but now, it also became a place for Y/N— exciting, warm, full of love.

The first time both of you went on a “night drive” was totally unplanned. He knew it was a bad idea to leave his phone in his dorm, but he didn’t come back for it because, “it’s just near!” you said, “I know the way!” you said. Now it’s almost 2AM, and he has been driving his mom’s old sedan for what feels like two hours, trying to find this new 24-hour wing place that his best friend hasn’t stopped talking about.

To say he was frustrated was an understatement, he is usually good in directions, something you take pride in him for, and him struggling to find his way back home to the dorms annoyed him.

He only agreed to drive you during the ungodly hours of the morning because he remembered how you got so excited hearing about the new wing restaurant; You even mentioned it four times in four different occasions the past week, forgetting that you’ve already told him about it. He was glad that you finally found the place and was ready to drive you there, except that you actually didn’t know the exact directions. Somehow, with all the streets you were pointing to, both of you ended up in an unfamiliar neighborhood and it didn’t help that your phone died either.

Some 80’s song playing on the radio, the light hum of the car, and the occasional sound of the turn signal were the only things filling up the silence of the car ride. He looked at you through his peripheral vision, you were awfully quiet and looked a little restless.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” you finally said, after 10 minutes of complete silence.

He hummed, “for what?” sparing a glance at you.

“I shouldn’t have dragged you to drive me to the wing place, now I ended up wasting your time, your gas, and we’re still wing-less,” you sighed. “I promise I’ll pay for your next gas refill, and I’ll stop talking about the wings,” you swore, raising your hand as a promise.

Junhui remembers how happy you looked hearing about a wing place that will open near the dorms, how you excitedly talked about it the past week, and how you said that it’s, and he quotes, “the only thing worth smiling about.”

“Okay,” he replied, “But I am kinda craving for wings so,” he looked at you expectantly.

“Oh! Then I’ll find the wing place—the exact location with the right directions this time—then it’ll be my treat, hm?” you gushed, trying to keep your hopeful tone down.

He chuckled, “Yeah, sounds good. Friday?”

“Friday,” you agreed.

One of the things Junhui hates is wasting his time, he realized after two hours of driving aimlessly around with you with no plans or direction, that time spent with you did not equate to wasted time. It took another hour, a passerby, sudden random movie debates, and a drive-thru to a Mcdonald’s for Junhui to finally get home.

—

It’s one of those cold afternoons, it’s already winter and Junhui cannot wait to finally go back to his real home with his family. He had already attended his last class for the semester before the winter break and is now packing his things in his luggage.

Junhui should’ve packed earlier in the morning but to his luck, his alarm didn’t go off and he was just in time for his first class, not leaving any time for packing. Which is why you are now here in his living room helping him pack, making sure that he wouldn’t forget anything. You were already ready to leave, dressed up in a coat and a turtleneck, but you decided that you wouldn’t mind helping him out and when he said he’d appreciate an extra hand.

“You should create a checklist for this stuff, it would really speed up the process,” you huff from his couch as he puts the last things he needs in his luggage.

“I know, but then you’d have no excuse to spend time with me anymore,” he teased. Junhui laughed when he felt a throw pillow hit his back.

“No, but seriously, thank you for today. I really appreciate your help,” he said as he stretched to poke your cheek.

You swat his hand away. “No problem, I just hope you actually didn’t forget anything.”

He knew that he didn’t forget anything because, well, he was confident in packing while you were there. In each of the last two semester breaks, he had managed to almost forget his term project, his script for a play, and even his laptop (he chose not to elaborate). But thanks to your constant nagging and reminding even through texts, he got to retrieve his stuff before leaving.

After finishing, Junhui helped you pick up your bags from your dorm and both of you headed to the station. He has grown to love walking the streets on the way to the station in this weather, it became both of your routines whenever any of you needed to go home. The streets are lined up with trees and small buildings, few food stands and stalls were also present; it was quite a long walk, but he didn’t mind. Walking these streets meant that in a few hours, he’d finally be home.

“They have a new ice cream flavor, look!” you nudged him, pointing at the small menu board propped up in front of an ice cream store.

“White rabbit flavor? We definitely have to try that,” he declared.

Both of you ended up ordering a cone, the ice cream tasting exactly how a milk mixed candy tastes like.

“I think this is my new favorite ice cream flavor,” Junhui said as you stepped out of the store.

You nodded in response. “It’s so good, I think I’ll be thinking about it at home,” you continued, “God, I hope they keep this flavor.”

While finishing your cones, you fell into different conversation topics of anything under the sky. It started with going on about each other’s day and naturally just continued on where the subject led you. There were times that you would walk in silence, sometimes just striding next to each other was enough.

Before parting ways to your different routes, you both stopped at the side of the station so you can finish your story—something you’ve always done when the walk became too short. Junhui found himself getting distracted and staring at you while you talk, which has happened too many times to count now for the past month. Not again, Junhui groaned inwardly, annoyed. He feels like he’s being a bad friend for not paying attention, but he doesn’t realize it until he’s already doing it. Pay attention. You were talking about something that happened during your chemistry class, Junhui isn’t sure anymore.

He is sure, however, about how your eyes seem to be lighting up now that you are talking about something so passionately. How you like making different hand gestures along with your story. How you seem to have a habit of touching your hair whenever you pause. Focus, Junhui, he thought. Chemistry class. Right.

Much to his relief, you ended your story not noticing. You finally exchanged goodbyes and a friendly hug, parting ways. Junhui felt uneasy. He thinks that he wants to say something. He feels the need to say something, he just doesn’t know what. He felt his heart start to beat faster as he watched you walk away. He felt that if he can’t say what he wants to say now, he won’t have a chance to say it again. But, what do I even want to say? Junhui panicked.

Overwhelmed, he stupidly ends up calling after you. “What?” you half-shouted as you turned and walked slowly backwards, stopping in your tracks.

Junhui still didn’t know what to say, hell, he doesn’t even know why he called you. He was panicking and quickly scrambled his brain for something to say. Come on, Junhui. Think! “Hope the ice cream settles nicely!” he attempts to joke. God, what was that?

You rolled your eyes, “My lactose intolerance will not prevail!”

He watched your back as you disappeared into the crowd. What just happened? Junhui thought. He’s definitely glad that you didn’t know about the mental turmoil he just had. He wonders why he felt nervous and panicked with you walking away, it was not like you will not meet again. And, it was his best friend after all, no reason to be nervous. Maybe it was the ice cream, he concluded. Right.

After a two-hour train ride and a bus ride, he arrived at his house. Junhui is met with the scent of his mom’s cooking and the sounds of his little brother playing with his toys, the television left turned on in the background. He is finally home, but the uneasy feeling is there again. Did I forget something? He is sure he didn’t, you helped him pack, after all. Then, why do I feel like I’m missing something? he wondered. The thought was brushed off when his brother greeted him through his arms; he’s home, he shouldn’t worry about anything else.

—

Junhui is glad he ended up going to one of your friend’s year-end parties. He isn’t a big fan of parties, he would rather stay at home and sleep rather than drink and socialize. But since he has only attended about seven of the many parties his friend hosted, he thought that he probably should attend this time.

And boy, was he glad.

Right now, you were impossibly drunk. You were five times more hyper and talkative, at the same time, you also looked like you could pass out at any moment. Junhui doesn’t even know you can reach this level of drunkenness—and that’s saying something, considering all the times your group of friends went drinking. He can’t imagine what would’ve happened to you and who would take care of you if he isn’t with you right now, considering all of your other friends were just as drunk.

After letting you throw up in the bathroom and guiding you anywhere you wanted to go, Junhui decided it’s time to go home, he is tired. He had hoped you would sober up a bit, but it didn’t work in the slightest. Instead, he assisted you to go down the stairs and walk to his car.

The night was quiet except for the distant sound of the loud music of the party. Lamp posts lined up the streets, as well as trees and occasional parked cars.

“Are we going on an adventure?” you asked while looking at him with glossy eyes.

“Yes. An adventure that leads to the great home,” he answered.

You hold his hand, “Can we please sing the Little Einsteins’ theme song? Please please please please please please please,” you begged while looking up at him, swinging his hand.

Junhui can’t help but chuckle, “Okay, little einstein, we will sing the theme song and we’ll even do the pat-pat-pat thing if you want,” he humors you as he pats your head, trying to ignore the swelling of his heart when you held his hand.

You were going to say something but you got distracted by the cat that passed by. “Look, there’s a cat,” you told him.

You’re still holding my hand, he thought. “Oh, they’re cute,” he answered, not even spotting the cat. Your hand is still on my hand. Ok. Cool. No biggie. Just a hand. But not just any hand. Your hand. Ok, Junhui, stop thinking about their hand.

You finally let go of his hand when he helped you get in his car. Junhui was about to start the car when he saw you struggling with your seat belt. He instinctively reached out to pull it himself, growing accustomed to the faulty seatbelt of his car.

Junhui was too focused on adjusting your seat belt that he didn’t notice how his face was just inches from yours. Being drunk, you were unabashedly staring at his face, only the faint light of the car and the lamp post as your source of light. This, however, did not stop you from admiring his moles that peppered his lips, cheeks, and neck.

Junhui froze when he felt your fingers lightly trace his moles. “I can’t see them all right now, but I know you have pretty moles. It’s just like the stars,” you said.

Your eyes widened, “And you’re the moon!” you gasped.

If Junhui was being honest, he currently can’t think straight. His heart feels like it’s gonna beat out of his chest. You were looking at him as if you had just made the biggest discovery. As if him being named Moon is the most amazing thing ever. The crazy thing is, he believed you. You would have said something ridiculous and still, he would believe you. The world could be in the midst of its end, but if you looked at him the way you’re looking at him right now with your hopeful eyes and said, “everything will be okay,” he would still believe you.

The light of a car passing by shined on the car, allowing him to see your eyes distinctly. Even with just a glimpse, it was enough for his heart to beat even faster. He couldn’t break eye contact—he doesn’t want to. It was the first time he saw you this close, and it did many unexplainable things to his heart.

You were interrupted when his phone rang. He managed to pull the seat belt once again and it unstuck on the first try. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he answered the phone, breathless.

“Hello? Have you guys gone home?” his friend on the other end of the line had said, he could still hear the subtle background music from the party.

“We’re just about to head out, we’re in my car right now,” he said, trying to control his breath. He glanced at you looking out the window, already beginning to fall asleep.

“Okay! Just checking, update me when you get home. You guys stay safe. Bye-bye!”

“Alright, you too,” he answered and ended the call.

Junhui realized while driving home that maybe, just maybe, he has a little crush on his best friend. He thought that this shouldn’t be so bad, it’s just a little crush. And hey, it’s you after all! You wouldn’t be his friend if he didn’t like you. As he passed through the streets, he began to consider that maybe he just got too caught in the moment, ignoring his heart that still hasn’t calmed down.

And with that thought, he drives through the night.

—

Junhui feels like he’s going to go insane.

It has only been a month since he has come into terms of having a little crush on you. Except that, well, it isn’t a little crush.

He is driving in the early hours of the morning, with you in his passenger seat again. Night drives became a kind of traditional thing for you two—whenever someone had a bad day or just wanted to have a moment of peace, Junhui’s beat up car is always there as a safe space for the both of you.

There’s a soft rock song playing on the radio, you were looking out of the opened window of the car, head resting on your hand. He glanced at you, your face illuminated with the light of the highway posts. Junhui thought that if serenity has a face, it would be you at this moment.

Junhui, on the other hand, is far from serene. His heart is beating erratically as if he had just run five miles. His mind is reeling from the fact that it took him this long to find out.

He should’ve already seen the signs from the first night drive; how the both of you drove aimlessly for hours and how he didn’t mind as long as he’s with you. Or the day he helped you pack when he arrived home, how he thought he must be missing something when he’ll just be missing you. Or the night of that party, how he didn’t have a drop of alcohol but looking into your eyes felt like he had countless bottles.

It isn’t a little crush. He is madly, deeply, and hopelessly in love with you. And it’s driving him insane.

“What’s our next stop, miss?” he asked jokingly.

You smiled at him. “Let’s go home,” you answered.