Archive of Our Own ^beta

Fuck, everything is going wrong today.

Wonwoo’s new boss, some entitled asshat, had been shouting Wonwoo’s ear off over a copying error that wasn’t even his fault, it was the intern who didn’t put the ink back in the printer back correctly.  Then the coffee machine broke, and his kind colleagues brought it upon Wonwoo to be wholly in charge of attempting to fix it, as if he’s qualified in any way. And when he managed to finally get back to work, the ideas just weren’t coming, leaving him to sit at his laptop aimlessly, waiting for time to pass. When he got to the subway station at the end of the day, the tannoys and the ticket officers were shouting out delays, closures and cancellations, leaving him to wait around the crowded platform for hours until a packed train finally came out and took on as many angry commuters as possible.

When he made it out to the surface, the heavens had opened up, pouring rain onto the streets. With a sigh, he grabbed a copy of the newspaper from the metal stand outside the station exit and paid the man with clattering change and a weak smile. He tensed his shoulders as he paced home, but it didn’t stop cold rain from creeping down his neck and chilling his bones.

CUT TO: Current, Wonwoo traipsing into his apartment and locking the door behind him, worn out and defeated. His only glimmer of hope, a ginger tabby cat, comes swarming to his feet, tripping over own her paws to rub her cheek on Wonwoo’s leg with desperation. She meows shrilly and leads Wonwoo into the apartment.

Wonwoo follows. “Okay, okay, I’ll feed you. You’re not starving, you know!” Nyangie doesn’t agree, and nags Wonwoo as if she’s only just discovered her voice. But instead of making a sharp left to the kitchen as expected, Nyangie instead leads Wonwoo to the bathroom, where a used litter box lies in the corner.

Wonwoo sighs a deep sigh. “Okay, I’ll refill it.” He kneels down and empties the tray with a wrinkled nose, finds the dry litter in a cabinet, then goes to grab the newspaper ready to line it.

“I’m sorry, it’s a bit wet…” He picks up the fresh newspaper, the colors dark and the pages damp to the touch. He opens it, and the pages stick to each other. “The inside pages should be okay, right?” He turns down to look at Nyangie, whose impatiently waiting by his feet. Nyangie meows, unimpressed. Wonwoo huffs in return and scoops out some litter with a tiny, pathetic plastic scooper.

The white brittle scatters across the paper, concealing the majority of the spread, some local ad for a lawyer, but the small text at the bottom is still visible. The personal column.

Wonwoo kneels down to put a second scoop into the box, when a large paragraph in the personal column, typically used for small businesses and self-promoting handymen, stands out to him.

Hello! I've just moved to NYC, but I feel like a lonely fish out of water. It's hard to meet real people here, and even on social media everyone seems distant, so I decided to follow my dad's advice and ask the local paper. Do you have any non-tourist recommendations for places to eat? 

I'm desperate for a human suggestion, not some Google search or unnamed article.

Thanks,

MG

Editor's Note: MG, Thank you for writing in, but this section is for personal statements and advertisements, we don't reply. I hope you find some real company soon, but for now, I'd recommend &Pizza on 28th Street if you're ever in the area. Good luck.

Wonwoo laughs once. Another laugh. Another. Then, he’s laughing hysterically on his cramped bathroom floor, his head bashing on the porcelain sink as he leans his head back. Eyes crinkled, mouth wide, stomach muscles seizing. Too much for what the situation allows, but maybe Wonwoo’s finally cracked after the day he’s had. His laughter echoes around his empty apartment, a high-pitched ha! ha! ha! that’s bound to give him hiccups later.

I mean, who writes to the newspaper, asking for a response? It’s not a forum! What did this MG think, that the city of New York would write back to them, listing hot new spots to get a bite? Ask the local paper? What does that even mean?

At the very bottom of the page, there are contact details. Wonwoo pulls out his phone.

To post a listing, write to The Daily Press, 145 6th Ave, New York, NY 10013, United States,

Or contact [email protected]

⟶

Wonwoo picks up the paper again next week, as he always does, but this time it’s not just for litter.  As he walks home he flicks to the middle pages, sees his own entry published, and laughs.

to last week's mg

i don't know if you'll even read this, seeing as you don't seem to know how the paper works, but the entry you put in, writing a personal ad to ask for restaurant recommendations, made me laugh very hard after a hard day at work, so thank you. 

i'll recommend you bread and butter on 5th avenue. it's a buffet and it’s perfect for when you don't know what to eat.

ww

Well, at least the editor didn’t tell him off.

A week later, there’s a response for him.

to WW

Thank you for your recommendation! I kind of ate exclusively from the Italian section because I was craving pasta, but I'll go back and try everything else. And thank you to the editor too! I got &Pizza to deliver but it still tasted good. 

NYC is proving to be an expensive but slowly welcoming city, thank you for showing me that there are kind people somewhere in it.

MG

Editor's Note: You're welcome, but this still isn't how this section works.

It makes Wonwoo smile. Even if he feels like he hasn’t done anything this week, he’s shared a recommendation, and made someone in the city happy, wherever they are.

He knows it all too well, the ‘new in New York’ feeling of loneliness. For the first week or so it’s exciting, taking in the sights and taking photos everywhere you go. But soon you realize the trains are always late, the smells only get worse, and it’s hard to make friends. He understands MG’s desperation and enthusiasm. 

Wonwoo seems lonely and quiet to people who don’t know him well. He lives alone, just him and Nyangie, but he’s always preferred living alone. He has friends at work, fellow writers at the table who share his struggles, and he has friends dotted around the city. Sometimes Facetiming people just feels better than inviting them over, less stress over eye contact. As his brother puts it, he’s not a hermit, but he wouldn’t mind the lifestyle.

MG seems like an extrovert, considering they wrote to the newspaper and continue to write back. Wonwoo’s seen it before; he’ll naively jump at opportunities to go out for drinks and be kind to strangers, then get hit with the realities of the city. New York isn’t exactly known for its hospitality.

to mg

NYC is not a kind city, i can tell you that for free. if you haven't realized that already you will soon. but there are good people here, you just have to weed them out.

but it never gets cheaper. go to Gregory's Coffee for cheap coffee, they're everywhere.

ww

⟶

to WW

Some of my new colleagues are nice, and you're nice too, but the strangers of New York seem to hate me the most, stealing my mail and shouting at me in the street. And I’m sorry to complain about the city that never sleeps in the most cliche way possible but, it’s too loud. And crowded. I can barely hear myself think.

Sorry for oversharing, stranger. I enjoyed the coffee.

MG

Wonwoo loves being right. Well, he feels bad for MG but, he feels a bit smug. He smirks to himself as he opens his laptop, searching for the familiar email address.

to mg,

by the end of the month, you're gonna have thousands of 'mean NYC stranger' stories, but now you have me to tell them too. and any other people in real life. and the general public who also read this paper. you’ll find your crowd soon, don’t worry.

if you're looking for somewhere with no people, go to highland park at night, it's quiet. i go there when i need a break from the city, so, often.

ww

⟶

“Isn’t it…tedious?” Jihoon asks from the other side of the counter. “You have to wait two weeks for a response.”

Jihoon runs the coffee shop at the end of Wonwoo’s street, a cute little eatery with wooden chairs and a good rotating playlist. Wonwoo keeps begging him to lower the prices so he can afford to keep meeting up with him here more often, but Jihoon is the one with a business degree between them, so he’s failing to be a convince him.

“No, it’s…cute!” Wonwoo shakes his head, stirring his straw. “It’s old-fashioned , Jihoon, something I thought you’d be on the same page with.”

“It is, quirky, yes… it just seems like a headache. I mean, they could be anybody in the city, like a kid or an old lady,” Jihoon makes a woman’s order as he talks, moving up and down behind the counter. “All your messages to each other are very public, and it’s slow! Life’s too short, just make a new friend on Instagram!” He shakes his head as he whines, making Wonwoo smile.

“It’s something to write about though, I’ll tell you that. It’s giving me inspiration for work.” He shrugs.

Jihoon snorts. “How is your pen-pal bringing new material to Netflix pilots?”

“No, not that, and the Netflix project is finished now.” Wonwoo shakes his head. “No, no, my own stuff.”

Jihoon gets up from his crouch behind the bar with a slow smile.“Ah…our budding Wonwoo’s personal film project?”

Wonwoo looks down with a small smile, avoiding Jihoon’s eyes. He has his job as a scriptwriter for major TV and movies. It’s fun, it’s what Wonwoo’s wanted to do since he was a kid. But in the evenings, once he’s completed all his briefs, he’s working on his own film. His own screenplay with events and characters that excite him, that one day he will pitch to be made, once he’s gathered the courage.

His friends know about it, but no one has laid eyes on it, only Wonwoo. They ask Wonwoo for hints, sneak peeks, anything as they know how big it is for Wonwoo, and Wonwoo gives in occasionally. But he’d prefer to keep it all a secret, leave it as a big reveal for them all to read in one sitting. Maybe even watch on the big screen.

“Nothing that will ever happen but, newspaper person is giving me ideas about new places to write about, or new characters.” Wonwoo shrugs. “They’re dragging me out of my writer’s block.”

It’s not a lie. MG is giving Wonwoo the final piece he needed to continue. A new-to-town character; naive, extroverted, big smile. It gives Wonwoo an excuse to sketch what he thinks MG looks like. For the character, of course.

“Well then.” Jihoon smirks slyly. “That’s got to be worth something.”

⟶

to WW

Thanks! I think how happy I am to be in this job outweighs the daily commuter/ New Yorker anger. Only just.

I went there last night, and you're right, it does feel like a break from the city. Or at least, distance. I'll go in the day next time.

On my way home I found this place, Little Skips East. Almost completely empty, open late, with good music playing. Somewhere chill to escape to. You should try it.

MG

⟶

Wonwoo gets off the train a few stops early on his way home from work to switch to go toward Highland Park. He wanders, following the path on his phone until he finds Little Skips East, a rustic little cafe on a street corner. 

He gets food to sit by the window so he can watch the rest of the cafe, barely anyone left inside as the neon signs hum and the coffee machines whirr. Outside, people hop into taxis, and trains clatter on an overhead bridge that frames the setting sun. Wonwoo’s glasses steam up as he sips his scalding hot chocolate and digs into his bagel. It has cream cheese, which he wasn’t expecting, but is a welcome surprise. It’s the small things.

He’s never really come to this neighborhood before, it’s cute. There’s a few thrift stores on this street, and some good photo opportunities. He’s never walked this way home from the park before, it’s nowhere near any stations that take him home. But maybe this is the way MG travels home. Maybe they take a train home in a different direction but stop here. Maybe they live close to here.

Wonwoo looks out of the window again, to the people bundled in coats walking home after a long day at work. So many faces. He doubts he’ll see any of them again, not unless he begins to frequent this cafe. Which he won’t, he’s miles out. But still. He wonders if MG is getting off work yet, if they’ll stop here on their way home, if they’re here now.

The shop begins to close, shooing out customers and turning off lights. Wonwoo takes a final sip and leaves.

⟶

to mg

look at you, telling me all the cool places to go to. you’ve barely been here a few months, already calling yourself a new yorker?

your job must make you happy, i'm jealous. what do you do? wait, only answer that if you want to, that was super creepy of me.

thank you for the recommendation, they do a really good hot chocolate if you didn’t try it.

ww

⟶

to WW

Somehow I knew you liked hot chocolate. I’m more of a coffee guy, so I’ll pass.

It is a bit creepy, I'll admit, but I think we're past that now. We talk through the paper.

I'm a photographer, there's a promising tech start-up who asked for my services here so I moved. I'm not gonna say who they are because I don't think they'd appreciate me saying I much prefer taking photos of the city on my way to and from work than I do in the day for them, but it’s still exciting, and I’m having fun. What do you do?

MG

⟶

to mg

i guess struggling creatives drift towards each other. 

i'm a scriptwriter, mainly tv. i co-write on occasional blockbusters and dramas, but one day i wanna be in charge of my own movie, write the whole thing and everything. i'm working on something now, but it doesn't really fit with the higher-ups’ ‘creative vision’. whatever that means.

try the new gyros stand on 42nd street by Madame Tussauds. busy but worth it.

ww

Wonwoo didn’t actually go to the gyros stand, his colleague brought a bag of them into work and spoke highly about the place. Wonwoo would never actually go to Madame Tussauds. And not just because it’s a tourist attraction. The models freak him out.

He’s been writing to the mysterious person in the newspaper for a few months now, taking into account the two-week delay. Maybe they should switch to a daily paper instead. No, wouldn’t want to offend the editor.

Talking to MG is feeling more and more familiar. Wonwoo is having to stop himself before he gets too comfortable. He reads the reply and then finds himself eager to relate to MG and tell him about his work, but then remembers they’re technically a stranger. Then remembers he’s emailing a journalist, who will then publish it in a broadsheet newspaper. Let’s maybe not leak your company’s name, hey? He summarises the past seven years of his life in three sentences and presses send.

to WW

It must be so cool working in film, I'm jealous. All the celebrities and awards, seeing your stories come to life and going to premieres. Give me (and the reading audience of this paper) a sneak peek of your project. I bet it's amazing.

The gyros were amazing, worth the tourist-induced headache.

MG

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. That’s everyone’s reaction when he tells them. 

to mg

don’t believe the movies (pun intended), working in film isn’t glamorous. i once bought coffee for colin jost because he thought i was a runner, but i was just at NBC for an interview. i think i got the wrong order, and maybe that’s why i didn’t get the job. most actors never bother to meet the people behind their scripts, so i don’t have many famous run-in stories.

i’m not going to give anyone any looks at my project, let alone you, as it’s nowhere near completed. it’s my child and it will not see the world until it is perfect.

glad you enjoyed the gyros. try the neon bar on 32nd street. cheap cocktails and good company.

ww

⟶

Whilst Jihoon is mildly disapproving, texting Wonwoo every time he reads the paper and thinks he ‘sounds weird’ (which is most weeks), Soonyoung is the opposite. But then again, Soonyoung and Jihoon don’t see eye to eye on most things.

Soonyoung was Wonwoo’s roommate in College and since graduation, he hasn’t left him alone. Moving in only a block away from Wonwoo’s apartment, inviting himself over for movie nights as frequently as possible, he’s a sometimes unwelcome but still friendly presence. Soonyoung, obviously, is a big fan of the MG developments.

“I mean, what it’s someone you know?” He flops down on Wonwoo’s bed, rubbing his forehead and looking up at the ceiling. “Like, what does MG stand for? Initials? Middle name?”

Wonwoo shrugs, sitting down at the foot of the bed. He’s used to Soonyoung acting like he owns the place. “Well, Wonwoo isn’t exactly a common name, or common initials. No one would guess it. Maybe they have a rare name too.”

“ They .” Soonyoung bolts upright with wide eyes. “We don’t even know what gender they are! How are we meant to visualize them if we don’t know what gender they are?”

“They’ve just been ‘they’ in my head.” Wonwoo thinks for a second, tilting his head. “And even if they are ‘they’, it doesn’t matter to me, does it?”

It took a few years for Wonwoo to get comfortable with his sexuality, even if he isn’t the most active dater in New York City. He likes who he likes, gender always seems to come second. He played around with labels until he realized he doesn’t owe an explanation, only to dating apps (Which are all deleted now. It was a very drunken night when Soonyoung finally convinced him to make profiles, and two weeks and a handful of unsolicited pictures later all the accounts were deactivated and never to return.) and his parents, who raised eyebrows when Wonwoo brought a boy back home from college that never really went back down.

Saying this, when Wonwoo looks back on his small line of exes, a type emerges. Dark hair, good hair, pretty smile. Which is like, most people. For someone who doesn’t date around much Wonwoo is shallow.

“I guess.” Soonyoung kicks Wonwoo’s folded leg from where he’s sitting, cheeky smirk returned. “Will you ever meet up? Cut out the middle man?”

“How would we even arrange that?”

“I don’t know!” Soonyoung throws his hands up in the air. “It’s romantic , Wonwoo. Something needs to happen!” He kneels close to Wonwoo, shaking his shoulders.

Wonwoo’s head limply lolls back and forth but he’s adamant, eyes fixed on his lap. “We’re just talking, through the paper. Something doesn’t need to happen here.”

“That’s literally the most romantic thing ever.” Soonyoung deadpans, fixing Wonwoo’s head on him. “Good old-fashioned manual communication! No one’s ever written me anything.”

Wonwoo laughs dryly. “I mean, friendship, romance, whatever it becomes…” Wonwoo sighs deeply, his shoulders heaving. He looks up at Soonyoung. “I really like talking to them. Every week I’m just…waiting for their reply.”

“Aww, Wonwoo!” Soonyoung crawls over to Wonwoo and gracefully dumps himself in his lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and rocking them side to side together. “Hopeless romantic Wonwoo finally has an outlet!”

Wonwoo smiles slightly as he’s shaken by Soonyoung, before pushing him back onto the bed. “Get off me.”

⟶

to mg

my favorite color is blue. the color of the sky on a good day, or the best m&m flavor. they taste different, i swear. what’s yours?

and thank you for the taco recommendation. exactly what i needed after a long day.

ww

⟶

Wonwoo can’t help but bubble over with curiosity on his walk home on Fridays, between buying his weekly newspaper from the subway station and walking into his apartment, already flicking to the personal column.

Who is MG? Their age, gender, height, name anything? Any information about the person, not just their thoughts on the city. He’s only human, and extremely empathetic. He wants to know who he’s talking to.

Their messages have moved past the awkward introduction stages, thank heavens. They’ve turned the personal column of The Daily Press into their own column, every week Wonwoo opens the paper to a new recommendation, question, answer, maybe just a story from MG’s week. It shouldn’t make Wonwoo as happy as it does, to hear about MG’s life. To hear that they’re making friends at work, that they’re becoming more familiar with the city. Even on their tough days, Wonwoo is glad that he’s someone for MG to confide him.

MG feels like someone Wonwoo can come to after a long day. Someone to help take his mind off things, distract him when he needs it the most. A comforting friend, somewhere out there in the city.

But it’s hard to keep writing when he doesn’t even know who's on the other side. Constantly retyping sentences when he’s realized he’s given too much away about himself, censoring locations and names. Except for restaurants, of course. Wonwoo’s gotten to know New York better these past few weeks than he has in all the years that he’s lived here before, motivated to find new and niche places to recommend to seem cool. MG’s endorsements aren’t half bad either. Wonwoo hopes they are as attractive as their interior design tastes are.

There must be an easier way, right?

⟶

to mg

i liked that section too, but my favorite part was the projection of his streetlight painting on the blank wall. it had loads of people walking in front of the projector, covering it in shadows, but i think that was the charm of it. everyone became part of the art.

i'd ask for your number, or your Instagram, or something so we don't have to talk like this. but that would mean you publishing that information in the paper so, i guess we're stuck with this.

there’s a new cafe on 58th street, just opened. i haven’t tried it yet but it looks good. bright green, can’t miss it

ww

⟶

to ww

I thought about maybe sneaking my number into a message, through a code so only you could understand it. But if you understood it, so could anywhere else, and then before I know it my phone is victim to a number of scams from the general public. So yeah, let's stay like this.

I’d recommend the avocado sandwich from that place.

MG

MG’s response has his heart pounding, eyes flicking over the page over and over until he’s memorized the words by heart without realizing. 

They felt the same. They’re curious too. That’s all he needs.

It’s awful, Wonwoo thinks, that the picture he has of MG in his head is beginning to form. When he reads he can never fully picture a character, he pastes together the author’s description but a full person is never formed, always performing far away and out of focus in his mind’s eye. With every slip of information, MG builds and builds until he is as much of a person to Wonwoo as… Soonyoung is, who he speaks to daily and who he has photos of in his phone. MG in his head isn’t a fuzzy character, they’re a bumbling shape of facts that grows every other week. Photographer, tall, too kind for their own good , these facts collate and create the person with no shape, the MG in Wonwoo’s mind who pops up in conversation and in his house and everywhere he fucking goes. Too present in his head for a glorified pen pal.

MG has also become a very real person in the eyes of Wonwoo’s therapist. But she seems to be rather pleased with their presence in Wonwoo’s life. 

⟶

to mg

not my favorite new york themed song, but not too bad. listen to my my metrocard by le tigre.

ww

⟶

to WW

There’s an interactive exhibition at the Public Library this month, history of New York Cinema? I think you’d like it.

MG

⟶

to MG

Congrats on the freelancing gig! Shooting models sounds more fun than shooting, computers or, whatever you shoot in a tech start-up. I wouldn’t know.

Treat yourself to some good food, for me. Red Hook Tavern in Brooklyn, I went there a few weeks back on a Hinge date. The date was bad but the food was really good!

WW

⟶

Hi MG and WW!

Sorry to butt into your conversation, I think it’s really cute how you talk through the newspaper! I’ve been reading for the past few weeks and I find it sweet, real old-fashioned.

May I recommend for you both Walter’s in Brooklyn, good food and chilled company.

Have a good week!

Sarah

Well, that’s new.

It is a paper, anyone can send in a letter. Last week Wonwoo’s usual slot was replaced by a lawnmower advert, pushing him to the bottom left and making him momentarily panic before he found it. Sarah’s submission sits below MG’s from last week, an anecdote about a photoshoot gone wrong. It’s a welcome response, cute even. He wonders, not for the first time, what the editor makes of all this.

⟶

The next week Sarah receives two responses.

To Sarah

Thank you for the recommendation!! I had the Walter’s Burger and it was AMAZING. Not sure what WW will have but I bet he’ll enjoy it too.

Thanks!

MG

to sarah

wow, forgot we had an audience. thank you for suggesting that for us! i had the fried chicken and it was really good, they have good beer too.

thank you!

ww

⟶

to WW

I keep forgetting NYC is like, a worldwide hub. Like, this is where it’s all happening, all the big events.

I went to a book signing yesterday, not someone I know too well but I liked their book, so I thought I might as well go and meet the person who wrote it. I could just go out and do that.

There’s always big political things happening and important people visiting. Even though I’m only a bystander, it makes me feel like I’m part of the bigger picture. Like I’m just as important.

Maybe I’m more of a country bumpkin than I thought.

MG

⟶

to mg

i get it. you recognise where tv interviews are happening because you walk there every day, or you see something in real life before you see it in the news. makes you feel like you’re part of the world, not just watching it.

living in new york isn’t all people make it up to be, but sometimes, it feels cool to be a new yorker.

ww

⟶

“Fuck…” Joshua Hong mutters to himself, looking out of the window. “Bad storm coming in.”

“Really?” Wonwoo asks from across the office cubicle, leaning back in his chair to look himself. “Doesn’t look too bad to me.”

Joshua shakes his head. “No, no, there’s gonna be a storm later.” He sits back down at his desk, but his eyes keep straying back to the skyline outside. Wonwoo’s still skeptical, but Joshua seems to be confident in everything he does, so there’s some small element of trust there.

Joshua is the dictionary definition of an LA guy. As the only other Asian, let alone Korean, in the office, he and Wonwoo are constantly paired together in everything, including office seating arrangements. The only Korean Joshua knows is from his Church, the heartthrob he is, but Wonwoo gets on with him well nevertheless. He’s a sweet guy, if not impossibly perfect. Wonwoo swears half the romance scripts spawning from their company were inspired by him in some way. Speaking of which…

“Are you nearly done yet?” Wonwoo asks across the divider, twirling his pen.

“On the second episode? Yeah, just needs the big approval.” Joshua nods to the door on the other side of the office, where the team boss sits, the barrier to approval. “You? How’s the proofreading going?”

“Not really going so far.” Wonwoo sighs, sinking into his chair. “I don’t see any problems, but it keeps being sent back to me, so something must be wrong with it.”

Joshua sighs back. “You’ll find it soon bro, don’t worry.” He leans over the desk. “Up to anything this weekend?”

“I think I’m meeting a friend for dinner tomorrow…” Wonwoo hums. “But not much else. You?”

Joshua grins. “It’s my anniversary Sunday, me and my boyfriend.” He obviously only asked Wonwoo to tell him about his own plans, but it’s hard to stay mad at that face for too long. “We’re going to the cinema, like our first date.”

“Cute.” Wonwoo smiles, suddenly motivated to get this proofread job done.

Joshua is one of his nicer colleagues. They’re not too bad overall, there’s a woman a few desks over who always puts extra sugar in his coffee when she makes it, and the guy by the door who always smiles and says hi to everyone who walks past. Last week was an example of the worser days, when everyone nice seemed to be ill and the deadlines seemed to be more pressing and stressful. It was a week where MG’s letter and the following cafe trip was much appreciated. 

Wonwoo takes the lift downstairs to go home, whereas Joshua takes the stairs, all the way down from the 10th floor. He says he does it for the extra steps, which is ridiculous .

“I’ll see you Monday.” Wonwoo says, waving Joshua off as he presses the button to go down.

“Or not.” Joshua retorts.

“Wh-” But the doors have already started closing.

“The storm! It might flood the rails!” Joshua smiles through the gap, waving goodbye and leaving Wonwoo staring at the cold metal, dumbfounded.

⟶

to WW

Be careful this week! If you’re reading this you would’ve had to flick past the news about the floods. Stay safe, be careful where you travel.

MG

⟶

to mg

thanks. you stay safe too. i’m not sure where in (or outside of) the city you’re in but, be smart. photography can wait. 

ww

⟶

to mg

i have a confession. i'm not much of a paper reader (sorry editor).

i get it for cat litter, for my cat nyangie.

i get this paper because it's sold outside the subway station by my apartment, which isn't a doxx because it's sold practically everywhere in the city.

i had really bad day the day i saw your submission. my boss was shouting at me, half the trains were cancelled, none of my work was going right for me. i was ready for a night of crying and feeling sorry for myself, but i saw your message whilst shovelling litter, and it made me laugh too much for what was warranted. who even writes to the paper these days, and who expects a response?! who did you think was going to respond to you?!

i'm glad i decided to write back, when i was going crazy from laughing too hard on my bathroom floor. thank you for making me smile that day. and thank you for all the smiles you've given me since. i've found an odd friend in you.

i’m a regular reader now, i promise.

ww

Editor’s note: Apology accepted.

⟶

“Bold submission.” Jihoon mutters as Wonwoo enters the cafe.

“Hm?”

“Your last letter.” He speaks up. “Why so dramatic all of a sudden?”

The cafe is in its closing hour. Wonwoo is the only new-comer, the tables of those few left gossiping under the warm lights are decorated with bare plates and mugs. Jihoon talks as he cleans the machines and makes his final two drinks of the day.

Wonwoo takes his coat off, flopping down at an empty chair and table by the main bar. “I thought you didn’t care about it, thought it was weird .”

Jihoon shrugs, making his way over to Wonwoo’s table with two mugs. “I need a way to kill time.”

“Gratefulness?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow. Wonwoo shakes his head. “I felt like I owed the editor an explanation. He emailed me back the other week, asking if I’d want a job.”

“And you didn’t take it?”

“I get enough anxiety from this job, why would I get another one? A writing one at that.” He smiles over to Chan, Jihoon’s new part-timer, who’s taken over the closing routine as his boss relaxes.

“Money.” Jihoon shrugs, and Wonwoo feels inclined to agree.

He smiles over to Chan, Jihoon’s new part-timer, who’s taken over the closing routine as his boss relaxes. It is a cute place Jihoon has created here. Wonwoo likes being close enough to him to be allowed here so closing. He doesn’t get shooed out and so he can watch people during the last hours of the day. He watches with faint amusement as a stressed Chan turns down the music volume, dims the lights, folds chairs up on tables, anything to strongly hint to the last few remaining customers that they’re closing really soon and they need to leave, thank you very much.

He turns back to Jihoon, currently nursing his large coffee with oncoming bags under his eyes. At least it’s Friday. 

Chan comes over once the final people start to leave, sitting next to Wonwoo with his own steaming mug. He looks tired to the bone but fights it off with his bright smile, updating Jihoon on what has and hasn’t been done yet before turning to Wonwoo. “Oh, are we talking about the newspaper guy?” He asks naively, eyes wide. “I read what you put last week, that was so cool! You’ll finally know more about them!” He giggles, but is interrupted by his phone alarm going off. He takes his phone out, “Shit, pot wash is done. I’ll lock up!” He waves as he quickly gets up and rushes to the back, shouting over his shoulder. “So brave, Wonwoo, so cool!”

Wonwoo hums a goodbye, waving back to Chan before turning back to Jihoon. “Was it too much?”

Jihoon throws his head back in an exasperated sigh. “Stop worrying, please .” 

⟶

to ww

Nyangie? 혹시, 한국 사람이에요? If not, ignore that. The paper probably can’t print different languages.

My dad's a very old fashioned person. He lived in New York when he was younger, and when I told him I was feeling lonely he told me to check the paper for nearby clubs, groups, opinions. He told me to write in myself, ask for company. But I couldn't, it felt too forward and creepy, so I asked for recommendations, something simple and real.

I did feel like an idiot when I was doing it, but I was desperate for company desperate for anyone in the city to talk to.

I'm glad it led me to you.

MG

Editor’s note: 사실, 저도 한국인이에요. Don’t underestimate the great printing press.

⟶

Opening the newspaper and reading Korean first thing in the morning had Wonwoo thinking he was having an aneurysm. They’re Korean? Wonwoo feels spied on, like MG has a camera in his apartment and is just feeding him what he wants to hear. And the editor is Korean too? He gets up Soonyoung’s contact.

He answers after a few seconds, voice bleary and croaky. “Wonwoo, it’s like seven in the morning-”

“They’re Korean. Soonyoung, they’re Korean, and so’s the fucking editor.” Wonwoo hisses down the microphone, propped up against his headboard with the newspaper in his lap. Like an old man , he notes to himself.

“Really?” Soonyoung awakens at that. “That narrows it down then.” Through the tinny speaker, Wonwoo can hear Soonyoung getting out of bed, getting distant before he puts in his headphones, and his voice returns louder. “That narrows it down quite a bit…”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue. “I don’t think you know every Korean in New York, Soonyoung.”

“You’d be surprised. I can’t go to Koreatown without bumping into at least one ex.” He can hear the smirk in Soonyoung’s voice as he trails off.

Wonwoo has to agree there. Koreatown is booming these days, constantly growing with new people and businesses, but there are always the same familiar faces. The group of teenagers who always take the same room at karaoke, the friendly ajumma at the ‘best’ k-bbq place (not officially, but everyone knows it), and her daughter whose always on her phone, the cute guy who sits by the bar that he and Joshua often go to after work. He might not know all the names but there is an unspoken community in that section of the city, a safe haven for when he misses his mom’s cooking or the sound of his native bickering.

He hums. “Know anyone who sounds like MG? Photographer, new to town?” They’re not even that new to town anymore, they’ve been talking for months, but he’s running off what he knows. Which, isn’t much.

“No, not ringing any bells…but I could ask around.”

“Maybe.” He puts the paper down on his bed and leans back, rubbing a hand over his face. “Fuck, Soonyoung. What are the chances? Like we really could,” He takes a deep breath, grounding.  “Know each other, or meet each other. Like, fuck .”

“Wonwoo, they don’t know you’re Korean too. Maybe when you tell them, they’ll be all like, ‘Wow, we have so much in common, I can’t believe this! 우리 만나서 삼겹살 먹고 바로 결혼하자! 빨리빨리!’” He puts on a high-pitched voice that makes Wonwoo roll his eyes.

“I don’t think that will happen.” He deadpans.

“But it could! Write the reply now!” And Soonyoung promptly hangs up, leaving Wonwoo alone with the newspaper on his lap, thinking in a language he hasn’t spoken in a long time.

⟶

to mg

네,나는 한국인입니다, but i’m not good at it. please don’t make me type it again, it was a nightmare trying to switch my keyboard. 

i moved to the us when i was little, so i don’t remember much, but that’s cool, how we have such a big thing in common.

when i was naming her, i couldn’t think of anything. i showed her to my parents on facetime and they kept saying oh Nyangie! Nyangie! and it just fit him.

me too. it feels odd, calling you a friend, seeing as i barely know you. i don't know what you look like, we don't text of meet up for coffee. i can only talk to you once a week, and i have to wait a week to get a response. but every time i find myself doing something in the city, eating at a new joint or visiting a new exhibition, you're the first one i think of. is that weird?

hello, editor who is also korean. small world.

ww

Editor’s Note: Tell me about it.

⟶

to ww

Seeing as you can’t submit photos to this section, please describe Nyangie to me in great detail in your next submission. I need to know everything about him.

It's not weird. Not at all. Whenever I visit anywhere you've told me about, I think about you visiting the same place a week before. Did we sit in the same seat? Did we look at the same painting?

I don't even know what you look like. Please don't be 80 years old and creepy. And sorry if you are, that was extremely ageist of me.

Also, yes. It’s so weird how we’re both Korean. So weird and so crazy. I love it.

MG

⟶

“Soonyoung, how would you describe me to a stranger?” Wonwoo doesn’t look up from his blank email draft as he talks.

Soonyoung comes over to the sofa, bag of chips in hand. “Ooh, are you doing one of those Buzzfeed quizzes? I’d say you’re.. shy, or creative. Can you only pick one?” He sits down on the opposite end, facing Wonwoo.

“No, stupid.” Wonwoo shakes his head, looking up from his phone. “Like, appearance, my face shape, that kind of thing.”

“...Why?”

“For the,” Wonwoo sighs, “for the guy in the paper.” Soonyoung gasps, Wonwoo ignores him. “We can’t send photos, not that I’d want to…”

“Oh!” Soonyoung gasps, hitting the pillow he’s sitting on with his hand as he finishes the chip in his mouth, then makes grabby hands towards Wonwoo. “Give me your phone, let me do it.”

Wonwoo freezes, hesitant, before deciding silently, holding his phone out to the jittering man. “But don’t be weird.”

“I would never.” Soonyoung replies with a smile, snatching the phone out of his hands.

Wonwoo wouldn’t have given Soonyoung his phone usually, if not for just how entertaining it is. His attention turns back to the TV as Soonyoung types away, glancing up at Wonwoo occasionally as if he’s drawing a portrait with his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly.

“Done!” Soonyoung pipes up a few minutes later, handing Wonwoo’s phone back over with a giggle.

It’s not… the worst. For Soonyoung standards. He definitely could’ve done worse if he wanted to. It is a genuine description of Wonwoo, his face and base personality, but it’s littered in Soonyoung-isms and compliments that make Wonwoo’s skin itch . Not ways he’d talk about himself to either an interviewer or a speed dating partner.

Wonwoo reads through, and is sure Soonyoung can read his reactions from his facial expressions easily. His frown reaches its height when he reaches the end of the passage. “Hey, I’m not ‘moody’! Or ‘insanely attractive’!”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, you’re a hottie.” Soonyoung shrugs. Wonwoo’s eyebrows just raise higher. “I’m trying to upsell you here!” Soonyoung exclaims, grabbing more chips from the bottom of the bag.

“I don’t need that, I’m just trying to describe myself. You saying I’m ‘ intimidating in a hot way ’ isn’t really necessary.” He hits the backspace button, beginning his necessary edits. “Besides, it’s the description of Nyangie that matters more.”

At the mention of the cat, Soonyoung claps his hands to beckon Nyangie over from across the room. “Oh baby, come over here, oh Nyangie.” He picks up the cat for inspection.” Let’s see… you’re orange, you’re handsome, you’re adorable… ” He tickles her tummy, getting a low yowl in response, but Soonyoung misreads it as a sign of love. “You’re the best little girl ever. Yes you are, yes you are !” He nods as he talks elatedly, eyes bright.

Wonwoo sighs and makes heavy changes to Soonyoung’s work.

⟶

to mg

i'm 26. i have black hair that goes curly when i don’t style it properly. i have glasses, and i’m 6 foot tall. my mom tells me i'm quite pale, which makes me look ill in the winter. i'm not, i'm just tired. the only piece of clothing in my closet that isn't black or dark, dark gray is a white blazer i had to wear for an event once, that i never wore again.

and i’m a guy, i don’t think we ever established that.

nyangie is ginger with a bright pink nose. she's an asshole, she acts like she loves me but she really just loves food, i'm just the person who gives it to her. but, she has been getting fatter recently, so i'm guessing she's figured out where the food is hidden. she bites my fingers and toes but when she occasionally likes me, she sleeps under my arm at night.

will that do?

ww

⟶

to ww

I'm 25. If we were in Korea I'd call you hyung. I left after high school to study here. Maybe we still would have known each other if we stayed over there.

I'm 6’2 so, ha. I have light brown hair, and I got a haircut last week so it looks really short around my ears, but I'll grow into it. I have a brown leather jacket that I wear all the time, it's vintage and if I ever lost it I would phone sick into work and cry all day. but the rest of my closet is pretty boring.

Nyangie sounds amazing. I don’t care what you say, I don’t think she’s done anything wrong in her life and you should never punish her ever. If I ever meet her in the street I will give her lots of food and she will deserve it all.

MG

⟶

hyung .

⟶

to mg

maybe we would have.

you sound pretty. that sounds weird but i can say that now i know you’re not 80. nope, it still sounds weird, nevermind.

nyangie is an indoor cat, i’m too scared to let her out into the city. she goes on the fire escape, and i have a suspicion she goes into the neighbors for extra meals but, at least she’s exploring. so i doubt you’ll run into him anytime soon.

ww

⟶

He looks over to Nyangie at his bedroom window, currently fascinated by a bird sitting on a nearby phone wire. MG would like her. She would probably like him too.

⟶

to ww

You haven’t really given me much to go off, but i’ll assume you’re pretty too. A pretty face to go with pretty words.

Nyangie will find her way to me somehow. We’re friends now, spiritually.

This is about recommendations, right? Try Ost Cafe on Grand Street.

MG

⟶

to mg

oh yeah, recommendations. i liked that place, thank you.

try lilia, new italian place in brooklyn.

ww

⟶

The mail room in Wonwoo’s building is empty, unsurprisingly, when he walks in. The delivery guys only gave him a message at 11:30 that his package had been delivered, even though it’s been there since 9AM, so he could have gone downstairs and grabbed it before work. A small stupid thing that’s been pissing him off in the back of his head all day. He figures he’ll come down and get it before he goes to sleep instead of waiting until tomorrow, it might get stolen if he leaves it there too long. His building doesn’t have a great reputation.

The sole light in the small room flickers and a chill comes in through the permanently ajar window as Wonwoo shuffles over to his mailbox and puts his code into the lock. As he reads the covers of his letters, to his left he hears the clacking of another resident’s shoes, the lock of a mailbox being rattled, and a defeated sigh. 

“Hey, um, do you know how to open this?” Wonwoo looks up and oh, he’s pretty. 

A man stands by the locker next to his own, glasses low on his nose. His brown hair falls gently, framing his face and making him look even more, perfect. Like a model, like a doll. Is it really that late? Wonwoo must be dreaming.

Shit, he’s still talking. “I-I haven’t been here that long and I know the code but I don’t know how this stupid lock works.” He grits his teeth and seethes at the lock as he speaks. Wonwoo stops himself from audibly cooing.

“No, it’s okay, they’re weird.” Wonwoo closes his own box to demonstrate. “You put in the code but you have to turn the lock like three times this way before it opens.” He opens his box again and takes out his mail before shutting it again. “Then to close it, you do the same but in the other direction.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” The man sighs again but with relief, turning his lock and pulling it open, revealing piles upon piles of letters. “I’ve been coming here every day trying to figure it out.”

“Did you not, ask anyone else? I’m pretty sure there’s a helpline for this building.”

The man starts to empty his locker, reading the fronts of envelopes and collecting them together in one hand. “I’ve just been so busy these past few weeks, and I hate phone calls so… I just kept trying different things. I would have figured it out eventually!” He exasperates, looking back to Wonwoo with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, I guess you would have.” Wonwoo looks around, eyes shifting. How is this guy allowed to look this good? “When did you move in, again?”

“A few months ago now.  But I’ve been so busy with my new job and all this other stuff that I’ve barely had a moment to relax.” He talks as he sifts through his letters, but still carries a faint smile.

A few months ago. Other stuff. “Right, well, if you ever need help with anything, let me know. I’m apartment 406.”

“Thank you! I’m apartment 711, explains why we haven’t bumped into each other.” He giggles shyly. There’s awkwardness in the air, two strangers at an odd time of night, unsure if they should continue their conversations or continue their separate tasks and not speak. 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Wonwoo mutters to himself, unsure if the other man even heard him.

He goes back to his own mail, slower than before to look at the man through the corner of his eye, reading letter after letter after letter. He’s trying so hard to push it away but that dangerous what-if is rising again. What if… this is him? This is it?

The man to his left pipes up again. “Oh, can I give you my number?” Wonwoo nods, mouth slightly (embarrassingly) agape as he gets out his phone, opens his contacts and passes his phone over. He receives a smile in response, tapping away on his screen. “Thank you so much for your offer! I hope we can be friends!” He hands the phone back with a beaming smile, then hands his phone over to Wonwoo, who does the same, tapping his own number into the stranger’s phone. 

Wonwoo smiles smally in response. “Well, I need to,” He points awkwardly behind him to the exit, then to his package and small pile of letters in his arms. “Get to all this but I’ll see you around…” He trails off, gesturing vaguely for a name.

“Jun. Like June, Jun.” His eyes crease as he smiles in greeting. Cute.

“I’m Wonwoo. Nice to meet you.” He nods goodbye with a polite smile, then walks back towards the exit, towards an oncoming conversation with Soonyoung and a screaming session with his pillow. He waves as he turns the corner.

“You too! Thanks again!” Jun waves in reply.

⟶

to mg

people always love new york at christmas. everyone everywhere in the world dreams of seeing it in the snow, all the twinkling lights and events and parades. 50% of christmas rom-coms take place in new york.

as someone who’s lived through multiple new york christmasses now, i can say that it’s not all that.

as if the city isn’t overflowing with tourists anyway, in the Thanksgiving-Christmas period i can barely breathe on the subway. screaming kids and their entitled parents, horrible weather, cold apartment, having to fork out on presents for colleagues that i don’t really like.

i just need more coffee than usual to make it to january in one piece. but i bet you’re thriving.

ww

⟶

to ww

Have you visited the Winter Village yet? I know you probably haven’t, it’s full of tourists and it’s busy and it’s all the things you hate but, you have to visit before New Year’s.

I went the other day, and I’ll go again before it closes. Because it’s great and full of Christmas cheer, there’s good food and hot drinks and little kids running around. There’s different bands and choirs, and it’s not all Christmas music so you can’t complain about that. There’s mulled wine and gin if that’s what you need to get through it. There’s small businesses selling gifts, most of them cheap. There’s something for everyone, which means there’s something for you too.

I thought about you when I was there, even before I read your entry. I just knew this would be the type of thing you’d hate, and I laughed when I found out I was right.

I thought, what would it be like to walk around with you by my side? Instead of writing our recommendations down in the paper, pointing them out to each other in person?

MG

⟶

Wonwoo knew the food stalls would be expensive, but he didn’t realize it’d be this bad. He tries to not make any noticeable physical reaction as he hands the bills to the woman behind the wooden table, who in return gives him a cone of sugary churros. It turns out to be a surprisingly fair trade, they’re warm and sticky sweet and the heat seeps through his gloves.

He made the good decision of deciding to come to the Winter Village on a weeknight, it’s still busy but could be much much worse. He came straight from work but it’s already pitch black. But you’d be lucky to find a true corner of darkness here. The dark air is illuminated by the warm yellows of street lamps and string lights, the warm glow of each vendor’s stall welcoming people in. In certain areas you have to take a deep breath and squeeze your way through the crowd, all gathered to awe at a shop window or queueing up for hot dogs, but they seem to be rare.

He strolls through the market, eating away at his churro as he leaves no stall un-looked-at, peering through the glass walls to see what they offer. He dusts off his sugary fingers to point and buy certain trinkets and knitted clothes for his family, visibly wincing at the prices. A candle can’t cost that much, right? It’s just wax!

A big ice rink is filled with couples and families linking arms. Wonwoo leans on the railing and watches them, the warmth of the hot chocolate seeping through his gloves as he watches parents fall and children laugh. It’s nice, to sink into the moment, let go of his grudges and grumbles and enjoy the moment. And there are many things to enjoy here if he ignores the biting chill at his cheeks. He feels tempted to call his brother and show him the sights, but it’s the middle of the night over there.

Wonwoo attempts to look at the crowds and couples and smiles through different eyes than his own, but it’s hard to do alone. He normally enjoys going to new places alone, being allowed to explore at his own pace and not feel pushed into anything. When MG suggested he should go to the Markets he was excited to go alone, do whatever he wants and leave anytime he wants. But right now, he doesn’t feel free or comfortable. He just feels lonely. He wishes he had someone else by his side, dragging him around and showing him things he wouldn’t look for.

As he continues his journey, looking for somewhere to sit and eat without spilling everything on the ground. There’s a crowd gathering around a choir, and by some miracle there’s a vacant bench close to it, so Wonwoo sits down and digs into his hotdog as they start to sing. He doesn’t look up, in fear of smushing sauce all over his face in front of the growing crowd of tourists, but he keeps his eyes trained on his feet and listens, ignoring the shadows of people starting to keep him company. Even though it’s busier here, it’s much quieter, everyone silent as they watch the choir. As he looks up he sees everyone swaying gently to the song, some traditional carol with layers of harmonies. Wonwoo can’t see the singers behind the tall bodies but he can hear their voices weaving around, gentle and proud, and it almost brings a faint smile to his lips. Almost.

He stays for a few songs, clapping his gloved hands at the end with everyone else.  As the people clear away he gets a clear view of the choir, their red noses and cheeks matching their lyric booklets. They fight off the cold with their smiles and their spirit reaches Wonwoo, who gives a faint smile back when he notices all ten faces are beaming back at him expectantly.

He gets up from the bench and make his way to keave, collecting his napkins and too-small cardboard plate. Wonwoo searches for a trash can and finds one, but when he throws his trash away when he gets pushed slightly by someone’s shoulder. He looks up just in time to see a taller man walking past him in the opposite direction, turning back as he walks to hold his hands up in apology.

“Shit, sorry dude!” The man gracefully barks out, already lost in the crowd, but Wonwoo is frozen. He’s been frozen since he looked up to look at who hit him because, fuck that guy was hot. He stays frozen, eyes darting around the crowd, but he was long gone. His face is already fading from Wonwoo’s mind, the brown eyes of the taller man only met his own for a split second. Suddenly, Wonwoo wants to walk around more, people-watch even more than before. Try and catch a glimpse of him again.

A thought suddenly runs through his head. “I went the other day, and I’ll go again before it closes.” Fuck, it’s on for a few more weeks and there are literally thousands of people here every day but, what if MG decided to come back today? What if he’s one of the many people walking past Wonwoo, shopping bags in hand? 

Wonwoo thanks hot guy for the sudden rush of adrenaline he gifted him and starts walking again, another loop or so of the whole markets. He didn’t really want to leave anyway.

⟶

to mg

fine, you convinced me. i went.

i bought some mulled wine for my brother, i had some churros, i sat on a bench and listened to a choir.  i was wearing a thousand layers but i was still freezing, but the food helped. i was sandwiched between students the whole train ride home. i had a good time.

you said that you wanted to go again. i wonder if we went on the same day, if we crossed paths. i also wondered what it would be like to walk around with you. I wouldn’t have to wait a week to hear your thoughts, i could just turn to my side. finally put a face to the words. finally hear your voice.

i thought of you when i was walking around that night. i hope you were there.

merry christmas, mg

ww

⟶

to ww

I hope I was too. Merry Christmas.

MG

⟶

to mg

happy new year, MG. even though we’re halfway into january.

ww

⟶

to ww

Have you seen the adverts for the new Avengers movie? Hard not to, I think they’re on the side of every bus in the city. I saw it with a buddy from work and it’s really good.

Don’t tell me your thoughts on it, the paper would probably get sued for publishing spoilers.

MG

⟶

to MG

sorry you had a bad day at work. a day’s only 24 hours, and by the time you’re reading this, this bad day will be long in the past.

i had a boss like that once. when i was doing this stupid unpaid internship when i decided i wanted to become a writer. just because he was the boss and i was the new kid, he thought he could walk all over me. after a few months of it i decided to stand up for myself, defend my hard work that he kept shredding up. if i got fired, it’s not like i’d lose any money anyway.

you’re sweet, mg. you’re one of the kindest guys i know in the city. even if i told you to insult your boss i know you never would. 

but know you deserve to be where you are. they asked for you to move here for this. know your worth, don’t let any old man tell you any different.

tell me about a good day you had this week. i bet you had one.

ww

⟶

to MG

thanks for the recipe. i’m not the best chef but i tried my best and it was amazing.

almost as good as… the new italian restaurant on 4th street. they should start paying us for these.

ww

⟶

The bags under Wonwoo’s eyes drag him down to the floor as he walks into the office, squinting at the bright ceiling lights. He can already tell the coffee in his hand isn’t strong enough.

“Rough night?” Joshua asks with a smirk over the desk divider, eyes strong and awake as ever. He laughs as Wonwoo sits down and promptly drops his head onto his unopened laptop, hitting it a few times for good measure.

“Kind of.” Wonwoo leans back up, shaking off his jacket. “I, uh, finished my first draft last night, a big project I’ve been working on for a while.” A while is an understatement. Wonwoo runs his hands over his face, groaning slightly. “A movie script. Was up all night.”

The screenplay to end all screenplays, Wonwoo’s personal film project, was finally completed last night. For now. It’s just a draft. Wonwoo printed out all 98 pages as soon as he finished, ready to highlight and post-it note to death, but he passed out before he could do anything. And a mere few hours later he found himself back here, at the office.

“Shit, congrats dude.” Joshua takes a sip of his own coffee (iced, because he’s insane). “Who’s it for?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No, it’s not an assignment or anything. Something personal I was working on off-hours.”

“Oh, didn’t know you were working on your own thing.”

“Didn’t tell many people.” Wonwoo really hasn’t, only Soonyoung. And only because there’s nothing he can keep from Soonyoung.“It’s a bit different to the stuff we do here, not very mainstream.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling Joshua this. “A bit more romantic and um, artsy, no action or anything.”

He wouldn’t call it a romance, or a rom-com, there wasn’t even meant to be any romance at all. A story about a man travelling across country, recovering from a series of traumatic relationships, on a journey of self discovery. And of the people he meets along the way, who teach him how to love again. The romance element just, happened to fit in well. But what’s done is done, and it has a plot and it’s finished and it’s finally complete. Months of mood-boarding, planning, organising, now into a full draft Wonwoo can sit down and read. And it still doesn’t have a title.

“What are you planning on doing with it? Pitching it here?” Wonwoo shrugs, but Joshua frowns, getting closer to the divider and lowering his voice. “Wonwoo, it sounds great but, you know the guys upstairs never take individual pitches, only studio-set projects.” He looks around as he says this, voiced hushed and eyes sympathetic.

“It’s not 100% just yet, it’s only the first draft and I have loads of stuff to refine but, maybe? I don’t know, I didn’t think I would ever finish it but now I’m close, I’m not sure where to go next with it.”

Joshua hums. “Would you let me read it?”

Wonwoo thinks for a second. “If you want, yeah. Not here though, not now.”

Joshua taps his pen on the desk, humming again. He puts his pen down decisively. “I think I might have an idea, if I read it I might be able to help you.” He says, slightly ominously. “Meet me after work? For late drinks, not dinner, I feel like you deserve a nap.” He laughs.

“I’ll bring the script.” Wonwoo smiles.

⟶

Joshua meets him in a wine bar, because he’s Joshua Hong. It’s a classy ordeal, glass walls showcasing hundreds of bottles of aging wines, a small band freestyling jazz on a small stage. The pair almost stand out with their massive stack of paper on a corner table. Wonwoo’s been gratuitously helping himself to their selection of bar snacks and small plates as Joshua reads.

As Joshua finishes, Wonwoo suddenly gets fidgety, messing with his fingernails. He looks around shiftly as he talks, “I know it’s only been finished for a day but, you’re the only one to read so far. My friends have been begging to see it but I feel like I’d let someone with a literature degree see it first, stick on the safe side.” Wonwoo isn’t sure why he suddenly needs to let Joshua know he has friends.

“For a first draft, this is really good Wonwoo.” At the silence he recieves Joshua continues with a raised eyebrows. “I’m serious! I really liked it. A few loose ends to thread together, yes, but with a second pair of eyes the next draft will be done in no time.”

Wonwoo taps the table. “Anything more specific?”

“I liked the main character, he’s complex in a way that isn’t pretentious or overloading me with background information and flashbacks. And all the people from the roadtrip, whilst there for only a minute, have distinct ways of talking, everyone feels very unique. I like that.”

Wonwoo will take that. He didn’t want to spend too much time with all the characters met on the road trip, short enough to leave them behind without consequence but long enough to leave a lasting impression. Through this they had to be unique, but not too attached to Jisung, the protagonist. He’s glad that’s been picked up

He hums around a piece of calamari. “And anything you didn’t like? Be honest.”

“The love interest? Minho?” Joshua takes a sip of his wine. “He’s the final person Jisung meets, the end of the road. The most time should be spent with him but, I barely know the guy. I don’t see why I should care for him or why he’s so right for Jisung. We need to spend more time with him.”

It’s dark in the wine bar. No overhead lights, only lamps stationed by the glass wine cabinets and smaller lamps on the table. Joshua fits right into the classy atmosphere, black turtleneck tight on his body and gold watch on his wrist, and Wonwoo almost feels like he does too, with his thick-rimmed glasses and oversized knitted sweater he feels like he’s swimming in, black almost melting into the maroon walls. When he gets home he’ll tell MG about it. “Yeah, I thought that too.”

“So, what was that idea you had?”

“My boyfriend, Seungcheol, is in the industry too, we met in college.” Joshua smiles. His SoCal accent curves around the Korean letters, but returns again in full force. “He’s a director, done a few short films, but he has good links with loads of independent studios. Definitely smaller and less funded than what we work for, but they don’t care about the money as such. They’re all about real art, storytelling, creativity. Not many places like that left these days.”

Wonwoo double takes. “Seungcheol?”

“Yeah, Korean.” Joshua notices his freeze at the name. “It’s a small city, I know.” He smirks.

Wonwoo finishes his glass of wine. “Tell me about it.”

Joshua continues, tapping the top of the screenplay. “This seems like the type of thing he’d like. Once he’s finished his current film, you two should work on this together. You’d get on well.”

Wonwoo smiles, genuinely. “That sounds good, I’d like to meet him.”

They’ve both finished their glasses and wordlessly agree to get another one each. The bustle continues around them; business meetings, first dates, solo dates. The band is on a well-deserved break so slightly less good jazz plays through the speakers in the ceiling. 

“I do like my job, I really do.” Joshua continues. “I’m working with major studios, big actors say the words I wrote on my favourite shows, I’m proud of the things I write.” He smiles wistfully. “But I’m lucky, I enjoy what the execs ask me to write, I like the stories I’m set. Not all of them, of course, but most. We’re always given less creative freedom when I need it the most, huh?” He laugh dryly.

“Yeah, we are.” Wonwoo nods. “I like it here too, good pay, good opportunities, big opportunities. But yeah, I haven’t had a fun project in a while. Good shows, good pitches but, not my kind of thing.” He sighs deeply, scratching his head. “If I wasn’t writing this on the side, I think I might have gone crazy.”

“I get you.” Joshua chuckles. “Cheol hates me for it sometimes. He knows I like it here, he’s proud of me but, I know sometimes he secretly thinks that I’ve sold out, that I’m just following instructions from the high-ups to make soulless scripts. They’re not, not when I do them.” He winks, and Wonwoo dips his head, laughing.  “But I am jealous of him sometimes. He can make anything he wants, any idea, any scene, anything . It’s not the best pay, or recognition, but he has all the creative freedom to make beautiful things.”

“That must be nice.” Wonwoo keeps his jealousy to himself.. That he feels like he goes just a little bit more insane every time a script gets handed back to him, and he gets scolded from straying from the ‘creative vision’ that was pre-set for him. He enjoys it here, he really does. He’s living the dream in the big city, right? But he feels like the creativity was being drained out of him, and it’s only in the past few months that the spark has come back. It would’ve taken another year to complete this screenplay, if not for MG.

“So, what was the inspiration?” Joshua pipes up. “It’s an interesting story to begin with, but when Minho comes in, I think that’s when it becomes even more enticing, the romance. That didn’t come from nowhere, did it?”

Wonwoo sighs. “It’s complicated.” He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “Do you read The Daily Press?”

“The newspaper? Yeah, my friend’s an editor there, he bugs me to read it sometimes.”

Wonwoo laughs nervously. “Well, uh, a few months ago there was an ad, in the personal column.”

⟶

to WW

My roommate finds this relationship funny, have I told you that before?

I rarely forget to buy the newspaper, but on the days I do he’ll pick up a copy for me. He places it on my bed and says “You’ve got a letter” and laughs every single time. It’s not as funny to me as it is to him.

I’ve kept all of our ‘letters’. Is that sad? I kept the first few because I thought it was funny and wanted proof, but the rest are just for memories, for safekeeping. And to remember all these restaurant names. They’re stuck in an old notebook. Maybe one day I’ll show them to my grandkids, tell them about my friend in the newspaper.

MG

⟶

to mg

well, they are letters. public letters with no incriminating personal information, that cost 50¢ a week to read, that also everyone else in nyc can read. he’s not wrong. 

we do have a funny relationship, but it’s a good one. you’re someone i think of when i’m out in the city, and you inspire me to visit new places and go out of my comfort zone.

i’m actually out of my apartment more since we first started talking. thank you.

i keep all our messages in a pile, together under a big paperclip. not as artistic as yours.

ww

⟶

to WW

I was a business major, actually. Back in Korea. I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to do, but I knew photography wasn’t secure. When I wasn’t in classes I was saving up money from part-time jobs, and when I wasn’t there I was doing all these online photography courses, or taking photos around my city. Waiting and working for a chance to escape. It was exhausting but worth it, I managed to save enough and build up a portfolio that when I got asked to come over here, I had enough money behind me that my parent’s didn’t physically stop me from going. And, I can happily say I remember nothing from my degree and haven’t needed to use it since.

It’s been a tough journey but, I’m happy I’m here. I’m proud of myself.

MG

⟶

to mg

i would never even have the abilities to apply for a business degree, let alone study it for years. you’re so much stronger than me.

that sounds exhausting, but look at you. you’re here, in new york, as a photographer. i can’t imagine how tough a journey it must have been. really, i admire you so much.

i’m proud of you too.

ww

⟶

Wonwoo hates the B train on any day, but especially today. Due to delays and maintenance and a thousand other reasons all the current trains are running late, and this particular platform is packed, stuffed to the brim with angry individuals, all with their own very important things that they need to be getting to. He turns down his music volume to listen out for any announcements but is only met with grumbles from either side of him, the sounds of distant trains moving and screeching on other platforms. He turns the volume back up

He’s stuck between a smiling mother with a young child in her arms and a tall businessman with a large briefcase and an even larger frown, somehow put off at how the mother is attempting to entertain her child through the long wait. Wonwoo tries his best to avoid being a mediator by looking back down at his phone.

He hears a loud voice peeking over the bodies. “Wonwoo! Wonwoo, hey!” He takes out an AirPod, looking around to see who called his name. Across the platform, a blustered Jun pushes through the crowd of commuters and bounds over to him, whispering apologies as he moves over to stand in front of Wonwoo, back to the dark platform.

Jun takes his own wired earbud and beams up at Wonwoo, pointing to the crowd around them. “This traffic sucks, huh?” His eyes crinkle into a smile.

“Gotta get used to it.” Wonwoo only realizes then, in their forced proximity, that he has to look up to talk to Jun, the man just slightly taller than him. He brushes off the thought quickly. “Where are you headed?”

“I’m going home, you?” Jun points to the vacant tracks behind him. 

Wonwoo points to the opposing wall behind himself. “I’m just getting groceries.”

“Ah…” Jun nods, swinging back on the heels of his feet.

The platform is crowded but is relatively quiet, the bumbling and grumbling coming from small groups but the majority are solo commuters, necks aching from looking down at their phones. In this sense, it’s not a struggle to talk to each other, but they talk quietly and sparsely in fear of drawing attention to themselves, because how dare people talk on the subway platform?

Jun’s eyes shift around before they light up, his mind finally landing on something to talk about. “Did you get that note on your door too? About the maintenance?”

“Yeah, hopefully it won’t last too long this time. Last year there was work on the fire escapes, weeks of drilling sounds in my walls.” Wonwoo scratches his head awkwardly, looking left and right at the busy station around them, the mother singing to the child quietly and the now even more pissed-off businessman. “This is only waterworks though, so it shouldn’t be so bad.”

“I hope so.” Jun giggles, but is interrupted by his phone ringing. “Ah, sorry, excuse me.” He takes out his phone and answers and, oh, no that’s not English, It’s not… Korean, either.

Jun rapid-fires Chinese down the phone, giggling and rolling his eyes. Wonwoo is left looking around, trapped between Jun and a hundred other commuters with nowhere else to go. Jun laughs and deliberates as he hangs up, then looks back to Wonwoo with wide hands and open palms, shaking his head with apologies. 

“Sorry, my um, friend. That was- that was rude of me, I’m sorr-”

“Hey, it’s alright, don’t worry.” Wonwoo interrupts, shaking his head with a smile. “Anything exciting I’m missing out on?” He presses.

“No, not really.” Jun shrugs. “My friend wants me to come out with him tonight, but I’d rather stay in and have an ‘alone’ night.” He makes air quotations with his fingers. Cute.

“Alone? Not with your roommate?” Wonwoo tries.

“I don’t have one.” Jun shrugs. Wonwoo takes a sharp breath. “Still searching for one. I’ll go out with him tomorrow night, but I need tonight to myself, hey ,” He interrupts his own tangent. “Do you wanna come out with us? My friend, his name is Minghao, he’s super chill and it could be fun and-”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds fun!” Wonwoo smiles, hands deep in his jacket pockets. And he means it, it would be fun. He hasn’t been out clubbing in a while, let alone with new people, but it’s been a long week, and he could do with some drinks and light conversation to finally let loose. Jun’s extroversion seems to overpower his own lack, and this Minghao character could be a fun addition. “Yeah just text me where you’re going, it’ll be fun!”

“Will do!” Behind the crowd of heads, the train home begins to pull in. Jun points behind him, ready to go. “Well, this is me. You knew that, you normally go this way. But you’re going that w-”

“I know, Jun.” Wonwoo interrupts him a final time with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you Wonwoo! Bye!” Jun waves at Wonwoo as he walks to the train being boarded up behind him, and continues until he’s swallowed by the other travelers who fill the train home. Wonwoo takes a deep, controlling breath and continues to wait for his own train.

⟶

to WW

My mom came to the city to visit me this week, so I took her to all the touristy places. Times Square, Central Park, we even went to see Wicked, which was fun. We went up to the top of the Empire State and looked down at the entire city and I realized, you’re down there. 

You’re down there every day, somewhere in the city. Have we walked past each other before? We must have, I know we at least go to the same restaurants in the same week.

New York’s big but it’s also scarily small, everyone has connections or knows someone who knows someone. If I tried hard enough I could find you, I could ask around or search social media. I could ask the editor for your contact details. There’s only two people in this city who have a friend in a newspaper, it wouldn’t be hard.

But, that would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?

MG

⟶

to mg

maybe it would.

but i think if i saw you in the street i’d recognise you. i can’t picture your face or anything, but i feel like i’d just know you. then i’d walk up to you and say “are you mg?”.  i’d say em-gee out loud because i don’t know your actual name and i’d be so awkward and awful. unless mg is like, your actual name in which case, sorry.

i’ll think about that soon too. that somewhere in this massive crowd, there’s you. maybe when i look at the city from the brooklyn bridge. there’s a good view there, especially late at night. verryyy late.

glad you had fun with your mom.

ww

⟶

Brooklyn Bridge isn’t exactly close to Wonwoo. It’s an hour subway with two changes, but it’s worth the journey. The trains are less frequent at night, so a large portion of the journey is waiting on cold, empty subway platforms, tapping his foot to the music pounding through his AirPods. He wraps his jacket around himself tightly as gusts of wind travel through the tunnels and onto the platforms.

The trains he rides are mainly empty too, surprisingly. He’s alone when he sits down, apart from a drunk old man hanging onto a pole by the door and a teenager sat on the far side of the carriage, buried in her phone. Even the changes were relatively stress-free - delays meaning more platform waiting but once again the trains are empty and peaceful. 

When he gets back to surface-level of the city, he’s relieved to find that it’s still awake, taxi horns beeping and speeding past him. It must have been raining earlier, the bright lights of the tall buildings are reflected on the wet pavement and roads. He walks from the station to the main road, jacket zipped up to the top and hood low on his forehead. The sounds of the city leak past Baekhyun crooning into his ears. Normally Wonwoo would turn up his volume to the peak, block out any intrusions but, the city’s not too loud tonight. It’s more peaceful, in a way, the sounds of singing and faraway partying bars creating a soundscape that makes Wonwoo turn down his music so it is barely audible, only providing background to the city it accompanies. The tap tap tap of his boots against the concrete sidewalk echo and bounce against the towers of scaffolding.

He turns the corner and there it is, the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s been a while since he’s been here, drowning in work and deadlines and the terrifying ordeal of meeting up with friends and having fun. He’s been sorely needing this healing time alone, seeing the bridge out of the window of his train home and yearning for just one walk, one moment to himself. Before he walks on he stands directly in the middle of the walkway, looking straight down to the end. Brooklyn looks tiny from here. The buildings are tall over there but one look behind him and wow, Wonwoo feels like the skyscrapers are about to fall down on top of him. He has to strain his neck to look up and even then he can’t see the top. It never fails to impress him. He straightens out his neck and stuffs his hands in his pockets, and walks onto the bridge’s central walkway.

As expected, the bridge is near empty. Or at least, in the dark it looks like it, far away people only black silhouettes, distant shadows bobbing up and down. You’re never really alone in this city, ‘your’ spot is never really yours . But its definitely the quietest Wonwoo will find it at any point of the day. As he walks on, the wooden planks of the walkway bringing a new sound to his footsteps, people walk in his opposite direction now or then. A tall man in a business suit, a photographer with a thick beanie and a heavy bag, a girl in glasses with a tote bag weighing her down, a couple arm-in-arm. Most return the small awkward smile Wonwoo sends their way when they accidentally make eye contact, thankfully.

The walkway may be quiet, but the roads on either side definitely not. At the start of the bridge, before he started to go uphill and was still technically on sidewalk, the cars roared past him, on the same level. Now, they are below him, lighting up his views with their blinding blinkers. It’s almost like an out of body experience, floating above the late night traffic.

The breeze is welcome. The walk made Wonwoo slightly hot, and whilst it’s not warm enough to take off any layers, the gentle breeze brushing the hair out of his eyes and cooling his warm skin helps him to fight off any overheating. He leans against the rails, hanging his head down.

Unfortunately, he can’t look straight down to the river below, there are train tracks in the way. He’s not sure he wants to either, he’s seen the water in the day and he knows just how nasty it is. He’s aware the darkness is hiding a multitude of sins right now. But he can still look across, to his sides, and up. Across; to Manhattan and the rest of the city hiding behind it. To his sides; to Brooklyn and to Manhattan, in all their bright colors. And up; to the starless sky and the concaving skyscrapers that loom over him. The biggest city in the world, trapping him in.

He looks up to his left, back to Manhattan. In the distance, there’s someone with their arms on the rails too. They’re too far away to be fully visible to Wonwoo, he can only see their black silhouette but he can make out a few features. Tall, sweeping trench coat falling past their knees… yeah, it looks like a guy. He leans against the rail almost mirroring Wonwoo’s pose, forearms leaning on the rail and legs stretched out behind him, supporting him as he peers across the water. He almost feels like he can’t leave now, he’d be leaving his bridge partner behind. The man might not have even seen him, but Wonwoo feels an unexplainable urge to stay here, wait to see what happens.

The shadow is looking back at him now. Wonwoo can see he’s facing his way, broad shoulders facing him, one elbow propped up on the metal rail. His mind fills in the blanks offered up to him by the black silhouette. He can hear the gentle sloshes of the water below, cars travelling in the distance, wind rushing past his ears.

The man gives a wave in his direction, and Wonwoo can see his shoulders shake with a giggle. With hesitance, he brings up his own arm and waves once back. The man’s shoulders shake again, and Wonwoo feels himself laughing too, a wide smile on his face. He’s not sure when to look away from the other man, the black silhouette framed by skyscrapers and lights and the picturesque city. He’s tempted to take a photo, but not only might it look a bit weird but, Wonwoo doesn’t think he needs a picture to remember this view.

Behind the man, the city continues to glisten. Lights in windows continue to flick on and off in tall skyscrapers and Wonwoo can only assume the same is happening behind him but the man isn’t looking up. He’s looking at him .

The dangerous what-if is back. The hopeful what-if that betrayed him only weeks ago is back with a vengeance. You have the power to take the steps over to the man and see his face, just walk over. Because while Wonwoo doesn’t know anything about the identity of the man a few meters away from him, he feels devastatingly familiar. Everything about him screams to Wonwoo that he knows this person.

It must have been at least thirty minutes later when Wonwoo finally leaves, shortly after the other man. He’s scared to leave before the other, scared of any missed opportunities, like the man walking up to him, or getting a burst of courage to walk over himself. In the distance, the man stands up from his slouch on the barriers, gives Wonwoo a small parting wave with his hand low by his hips, then turns away and walks back into the city, long coat swaying behind him. Wonwoo watches until the figure becomes a dot in the distance, lost in the white city lights. He waves back, but the stranger doesn’t see it.

With a sigh, he turns on his heel and walks in the opposite direction, back home.

⟶

to WW

The cherry blossoms are starting to bloom! I went to Washington Square Park yesterday and they’re not all fully there yet, but it still looks beautiful. It’s really good for photos, I recommend highly.

MG

⟶

to mg

I know you have a sweet tooth, so I’ll recommend you Heaven’s Cloud, cute cafe in Queens. My friend set it up a few years ago, he’s not-so-subtly been asking me to promo it here for a while, so if you see him, don’t let it get to his head. I’m not biased, I promise. It’s good coffee and even better pastries. One of the best in the city.

ww

⟶

When Wonwoo comes into the cafe, orders his drink from an always-beaming Chan and sits on a stool by the window, he tries to push the thought to the back of his head. He planned this catch-up with Jihoon a few weeks ago, it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he recommended the cafe to MG last week and is secretly hoping that he’s visited since and possibly spoken to I don’t know, any of the workers and he’ll finally have a real life, in-person connection.

Jihoon comes over to Wonwoo’s place and sits his own coffee and cookie down by the window, before sitting down next to Wonwoo and looking him in the eyes. “So, he’s tall.”

“Oh my God.” Wonwoo collapses, puts his head in his hands, before giving up and putting his head down on his resting arms, his forehead dropping onto the table. “You’re you , that doesn’t exactly tell me anything, oh my God.”

“Rude.” Jihoon scoffs.

Wonwoo shoots back up with apologetic arms, eyes wide. “I didn’t just recommend him here so I could catch a glimpse of him, by the way. And I didn’t just meet you today to talk about him, if he came. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay!” Jihoon laughs, clearly entertained by this. “It’s okay, Wonwoo, really. I couldn’t not tell you about it.”

Wonwoo rubs his face with one hand. “How did you know it was him?”

“He was tall, Korean, brown leather jacket. Friendly, asked for my name, asked for a recommendation, I gave him a croissant. He sat over there.” He points to a vacant table by the entrance. “Just this Tuesday gone.”

Wonwoo looks over to the table, a single flower in a vase like the rest of the tables in the cafe. He had a croissant, he sat in this cafe, at that exact table , he spoke to his friend of years. This week. Wonwoo feels short of breath.

“Yeah, but how did you know it was him ?”

“He told me. He said he was recommended here by a friend. He gave me his name.” Jihoon smirks at Wonwoo writhing in his stool in shock. “He told me not to tell you.”

“His name? Really?” He asks, and takes a long, calming breath at Jihoon’s nod.

More people filter into the cafe behind them, and Chan greets them brightly. Wonwoo is still trying to wrap his head around that Jihoon somehow knows more about the man Wonwoo’s been speaking to for months than him, and it only took him an afternoon, if that. His name, his face, what he wears, how he sits, how he smiles. His name . Wonwoo feels the jealousy pour out of him, but at the same time, grateful that it was Jihoon who got to see him. Grateful he is one step closer, one massive step.

“He was hot.” Wonwoo chokes at Jihoon’s break of the silence. He looks up at him, but the cafe owner just shrugs, unashamed. “You’d really like him, you’d get along.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “But why not to tell me?”

“Wonwoo.” Jihoon’s voice lowers, and he turns to face him fully.  “I told him that I was the owner, and he looked a bit startled. We sat down and spoke, listen, Wonwoo-” Jihoon cuts himself off, a hand scratching the back of his neck. Wonwoo knows this Jihoon. This Jihoon is trying to break news to him, and is trying not to break his heart as he tells the truth. He’s seen this Jihoon when he asked Jihoon if there were any jobs running at the cafe when he was fresh out of frantically searching for some pay, any pay, and Jihoon told him he wasn’t fit to work there. He’s seen this Jihoon when he told Wonwoo he was going back to Busan for a year, leaving him alone in a big city. Wonwoo puts on a brave face as he continues. “I think he wants to do it on his own terms. Think about it, isn’t it a scary thought? Finally coming face to face? What would you do?”

“I would just,” He shrugs, looking down at his twiddling fingers. “Translate the letters into real life, I guess. Go out for coffee, and… stuff.”

“Right.” Jihoon gives him a look. Wonwoo doesn’t need to look up. “I think he just wants to just… keep the fun going a bit longer. Hey. ” He puts a hand on Wonwoo’s knee and shakes it, forcing him to look back up. Jihoon wears a reassuring smile. “I’m sure you’ll meet soon. When I spoke about you, he had the biggest smile on his face, he was asking all these questions.”

Wonwoo smiles. “Did you tell him anything about me?”

“I kept your secrets too, don’t worry.” Jihoon winks.

⟶

to mg

try mama yoshi mini mart, little japanese market with fresh food too. the katsu sandwiches are amazing.

slight

ww

⟶

to mg

glad to hear you’re feeling better! the flu sucks. still don’t go out this weekend though, DoorDash some good food to your place. i know you’re budgeting more right now but, look after yourself. for me.

ww

⟶

to WW

That ramen place was perfect , thank you for telling me about it. It tasted nearly exactly like my mom’s. Not 100%, but so so close. Just what I needed.

Congrats on sending off your script! I know you’ve been working on it for so long, and I know how much it means to you. I haven’t read it, obviously, but I technically read your writing every week. If it affects me this much like this, I can only imagine how good it must be when you’re writing professionally. Just hold tight and wait for the feedback, don’t stress about it.

I’m proud of you.

MG

⟶

Wonwoo is not drunk. He’s not sober, but he’s not drunk.

He knows his limits, barely. He went out for a few drinks with Soonyoung after work, purposefully choosing a place within walking distance of his apartment so he could afford to let loose. He’s had worse nights, definitely, there’s still some element of control here but… there’s a slight sway to his step.

Before waving a tearful Soonyoung into his uber, the pair talked about anything and everything. Work, movies, drinks, life. There’s one very long tangent about Soonyoung’s childhood best friend, and another about Wonwoo’s hatred of vodka. Wonwoo reached the level of buzzed where he’s no longer embarrassed about the volume of their voices in this warm bar, and relaxes into the leather sofa.

It’s been a while since he’s had a night like this. Sure, he’s been out drinking recently, but this is the first time in a while he’s felt the buzz, and not felt a large bout of anxiety with it. He’s very comfortable with Soonyoung, spilling everything that comes to the forefront of his mind.

The bar was exactly Wonwoo’s style. The lights were dim and there was a bright neon pipe sign attached to the wall by where they were sat. It was busy, obviously, it’s a Friday, but it was good company. All relatively young, groups of friends and the occasional couple, chatting and laughing. Half of them seemed to be friends with a bar staff, chatting and inviting them to their tables. It made Wonwoo want to become a regular, extend his circle and smile like they’re smiling.

He and Soonyoung sat on a leather sofa in the corner, by a wall covered in posters for nearby gigs of bands he’d never heard of. The sofa was so deep and plush, it was always lower than Wonwoo remembered every time he sat back down, and the more he drank the more funny that fact became. He tapped his foot along to the music playing from the jukebox and tapped his foot as he talked for hours with Soonyoung, warming up ready to face the bite of the New York night.

He’ll tell MG all about it later. It’s his kind of place.

Close to the end of the night though, Wonwoo forgets that Soonyoung is a lightweight, and supports his friend’s suddenly heavy head with his shoulder as he orders him an uber (after wrangling his phone passcode from his loose lips). After entering a tip for the driver before Soonyoung forgets and waving the car off, thanking the driver profusely and making Soonyoung pinky swear to drink water when he gets home, he turns in the direction of his own apartment and begins to stumble home.

The lights of the city fade into the background as he walks. He can feel the redness of his cheeks, warm to the touch, and giggles. He feels cliche, drunk and laughing out loud by himself but, he’s happy, he’s young. Let him have this.

How did he get here? In New York, tipsy after a night drinking with one of his best friends whose hot and funny and dances for a living. Wearing a leather jacket he never though he’d be cool enough to wear that he got in a vintage sale, discussing his relationship with a stranger in the newspaper.

When Wonwoo moved to New York, he didn’t think he’d be capable of having this life. He thought his shyness would overcome him like it did in high school, like it did in middle school. He made this big move to beat his fears, but he was still scared they’d come back to haunt him, scared he’d never fit into this city and would fall behind. But before he knew it he was making memories, enjoying his classes, graduating, renting his own place, living. And it’s not that scary. And he’s doing it, and he’s coping, and he’s having fun . Who would’ve thought.

Tonight was amazing but that’s what it was, a night. Just another night catching up with Soonyoung. He’ll have another one soon. Because this is something that Wonwoo does. He rarely gets to stop and appreciate it all but, fuck , what a life he has. It’s not extravagant or rich, but it’s a life.

He can’t wait to tell MG all about the bar. It feels like MG would like that place too, he’s more outgoing and social than Wonwoo and make more friends among the regular patrons. He’d love the tight-knit feel of it, the photos and old newspaper covers on the walls.

He gets into his apartment and chugs water, and leaves another full glass by his bedside, before promptly lying down and passing out.

He wakes up at a brisk 10am, to a text from Soonyoung at, worryingly, 6am.

fukcign newspaperr!!! wttfff!! It reads, as well as a screenshot from the Daily Press’ website. Something Wonwoo has never checked over all this time, always preferring the analogue way. Fuck, it’s Saturday, right? Wonwoo almost forgot the paper comes out today.

He rubs his eyes and puts on his glasses.

⟶

to WW

I’ve been dreaming about you more recently. I can’t really picture faces in my dreams anyway so it’s nothing out of the norm, but I’ve been dreaming of a faceless man, just slightly shorter than me and my age, walking around the city with me. Down the stairs to the subway, past a row of new cafes, in front of the New York skyline. Everywhere, anywhere.

I think you’re one of my closest friends. I have my roommate and my colleagues and my friends all the way back home, but you’re the one I think about after a long day. You’re the one who makes my hands jitter as I go to pick up the paper from outside the train station. You’re the one

I need you now. I need to see you and hear you and know you’re real now more than ever.

Let’s cut through all this red tape. Let’s meet up.

In the third place you ever suggested to me, 8pm, Friday.

If you don’t want to, I understand completely. We can just leave it.

Mingyu Kim

Editor’s Note: Go get him, tiger.

⟶

The wait until Friday is suffocating. At work, his feet are constantly tapping, fingers constantly fiddling. Soonyoung is breathing down his neck 24/7, asking if he can come along. Jihoon hides it, but he’s excited for Wonwoo too.

He taps and taps and taps until Friday morning when the tapping turns to a shaking leg and Joshua asking if he’s okay with concerned eyebrows. It’s okay, it’s just nerves, Wonwoo reassures everyone who asks.

Wonwoo’s unable to think of anything else all week. All his work and all his conversations feel like background noise, fussy in the background of his thumping heart. He’s rehearsed in his head the route from his apartment to the park, a route he’s done many times before, every time he finds himself zoning out. This meetup fills every corner of his waking mind, imagining a thousand scenarios of how things could go. Too many awkward and cringy playthroughs plague and intrude his daydreams, increasing the jitters in his hands. He wonders if MG feels this nervous, maybe even more so, since he’s the one who asked.

Fuck, sorry, Mingyu. Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu.

Mingyu never said where in Highland Park, but Wonwoo guesses this was the best way for him to give him a place without telling the rest of the city. He gets there at 7:50, then walks loops around the park with a pattering heart. Waiting to bump into someone he doesn’t know.

At least it’s a good day to wait around. As it’s the evening, the park is relatively empty. A few dog walkers, a few joggers, but relatively quiet. The sky is dark blue and cloudless, and a slight breeze rustles the leaves of the tall trees. It brings a chill, but Wonwoo is protected by his thick coat. He’ll be okay.

He made small smiles to everyone he passed, attempting to make eye contact, but it seemed like no one else was searching for him. He’s purposely slowed his pace, but that hasn’t seemed to help. Some people were even walking around together, one particular group of students with a bag from the liquor store made him chuckle to himself. He could read them like a book, knew exactly who they were and what they were doing with just a glance. If only everyone here was that easy to read. Maybe that would make this search easier.

He wonders if he should just walk back to the entrance. That makes more sense, right? To meet him by the entrance. Yep, yep, that sounds like a good idea, Wonwoo turns and walks back the way he came. Maybe he’s been waiting there for ages. Or maybe he might not be at this entrance, maybe he’s at the one on the other side, or-

A click pulls him out of his thoughts. Stops him in his tracks. He turns to his right and a camera is pointed at him.  The camera covers the face of the holder, the man looking through the viewfinder. He has a messenger bag by his waist slung over a brown leather jacket, unzipped. The man is tall, messy brown hair atop his head but Wonwoo doesn’t need to piece this together. He already knows who he’s looking at.

But then the man brings his camera down from his face and fuck. Wonwoo wishes he wasn’t that hot. That really messes things up for him. Deep brown eyes, tanned skin, sharp nose. He smiles when he makes eye contact with Wonwoo and tiny white fangs are visible. He’s been daydreaming all week but Wonwoo could have never dreamed that face up.

Mingyu walks over, holding his camera with one hand as he cuts over the path, until he’s face to face with Wonwoo, who bites his lips once he realizes their height distance. He keeps his bright, open-mouthed smile and Wonwoo smiles widely back, heart bursting out of his chest. The park around them was quiet before, but now it’s deathly silent.

“How did you know it was me?” Wonwoo barely stutters out, killing the silence.

“I just knew.” Mingyu replies, voice warm and low. Only one sentence and Wonwoo feels like he’s being romanced. Maybe that’s just how his voice is.

Wonwoo takes a deep breath. “Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo, I mean, Wonwoo Jeon, I mean-”

“Mingyu.” He smiles back. “Nice to meet you… Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo doesn’t waste a single second questioning how Mingyu knew who he was without asking, nothing he’s wearing today really gives him away. The only lingering thought is the photo of his side profile sitting inside Mingyu’s camera. Instead, he holds out his left hand, and with an amused smile, Mingyu holds out his own and shakes his hand.

Mingyu pulls back to itch the back of his head, chuckling. “Fuck, this is so… fuck.”. Wonwoo realizes, seemingly at the same time as Mingyu, that he hadn’t envisioned getting past this point.

“I know, right?” Wonwoo barks out a nervous laugh, trying to shake the tension out of his shoulders.

They walk in step, to begin with, and Wonwoo smiles at this, keeping his head down. Their path is only lit by the streetlights lined up around the park, the moon covered by dark clouds.

“You’re taller than I thought.” He starts with, turning to his side to meet Mingyu in the eye. He thinks it’s going to take him a while to get over how gorgeous Mingyu is.

“I told you I was tall.” Mingyu raises his eyebrows, smirking. 

“Yeah, but I’m tall. I wasn’t expecting, this .” Wonwoo gestures from Mingyu, head to toe. Wonwoo has to crane his head up just slightly to meet Mingyu’s eye, and he hates how much he likes it.

Mingyu barks out a laugh, high-pitched and more like a giggle. “I knew I’d be taller.” He smirks.

“Shut up.” Wonwoo bites back, widening Mingyu’s smile. Fangs start to show and Wonwoo has to turn away before he goes bright red. He wonders how long Mingyu had to travel to get here, he wonders if-

“Have you eaten yet?” Wonwoo asks, and Mingyu shakes his head. Wonwoo smirks, reading the relief in his eyes like a well-loved book. He holds his hands behind his back, hiding back a smile by biting his tongue. “Know any good food near here?”

“Have you eaten yet?” Mingyu asks and yeah, food would be a good place to start. Wonwoo shakes his head, relief filling his chest at the familiar question. A question asked after a long day by aunts and uncles and the occasional college classmate who traveled just as far as he did, asking for a meal, asking to take care of each other. The question must be closer to home to Mingyu, Wonwoo knows this when Mingyu beams when he shakes his head ‘no’.

“I was recommended a good place near here, actually.” Wonwoo leads. “It’s a nice evening, wanna grab something and come back here?”

Mingyu smiles. “Lead the way.”

⟶

They made their way to a desolate bench, munching on their respective subs, twin Coke cans between them. It was an odd moment, going into a cafe with Mingyu, ordering side by side. “Oh, the beef brisket one is really good, I heard,” Wonwoo says to the man to his left, instead of emailing and waiting a week. “Oh, sure, yeah I’ll have that one, please?” Mingyu replies, looking at the server, and suddenly life is so much easier.

“No, no, I’ve made good friends in the city. I’m part of a little circle at work, I’ve made some friends from other friends and connected with them and … yeah.” Mingyu nods to Wonwoo, dabbing at his cheek with a flimsy napkin.

“That’s good.” Wonwoo takes a bite of his sandwich. “No, that's really good. I’m happy you’ve met good people here.” 

“I have.” Mingyu nods, looking out into the distance. “No, it’s, it’s good here.”

Wonwoo hits him on the shoulder jokingly. “You’re talking as if you’re new here, you’ve lived here for like a year now.”

“I know, I know.” Mingyu smiles. “But this is the first time we’ve met, technically. I feel like I need to tell you everything all over again.”

Wonwoo looks at him, a shiver running through him from a passing breeze. “I already know everything about you, Kim Mingyu.” And it’s true, Wonwoo feels like he knows a lot about the stranger sitting next to him, the face still new but the heart still the same. He can ask small talk questions all night but he knows all the answers, knows they’re just trying to get through the traditional steps of making a friend, even though they’ve done it all already.

Mingyu makes a nodding gesture, raising an eyebrow. “Oh really? Go on then.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Your coffee order, your job, how much you hate the A train. What else…”  He shrugs. “Your camera film roll of choice…”

Mingyu interrupts, tilting his head. “Which is?”

“What?”

“My film of choice.” Mingyu’s eyes are warm and relaxed, and Wonwoo realizes they don’t have to go through the steps.

Wonwoo thinks, his eyes looking up. “Kodak Portra 800.”

“Correct.” Mingyu’s eyes widen for a split second in shock, then his face softens, looking Wonwoo deep in the eyes. 

It’s crazy to think, that a delirious email on his bathroom floor, led him to here, looking in the eyes of a friend for the first time. Learning the way he smiles, walks, laughs, getting to know him further than a sheet of paper could tell him. These things don’t happen to him.

Mingyu takes him out of his thoughts, smirking. “Why are you staring? More attractive than you thought?”

Wonwoo freezes, before choking out a scoff. His vacant hand lies in the only space left between them, touching the edge of their thighs. “No, it’s just… odd to match a face to the letters.”

“In a good way?” Mingyu scoots even closer in the most unsubtle way ever, and Wonwoo bites back a grin.

“Definitely in a good way.” He grins.

Mingyu smiles back, giving him a once-over up and down, before looking back at the park. “Yeah, it is.”

Wonwoo gets his phone out and almost winces at the time. Have they been sitting here for that long?

“Hey, do you uh, wanna meet Nyangie? I don’t live too far from here and you don’t even know what she looks like.” He clears his throat, hoping he doesn’t sound too forward. But he doesn’t see any other way this night could end, Mingyu finally meeting who he actually came here for.

It works. Mingyu gasps with a smile, putting a hand over his chest. “Are you kidding me? Of course I’d like to meet Nyangie. I’d be honored .” 

“Alright then.” Wonwoo gets up, dusting any crumbs off his lap. He offers his hand to Mingyu on the bench. “Let’s go.”

⟶

Fuck, why did he have to be so pretty? This really complicates any plans Wonwoo had of this turning into a normal friendship, now it’s an automatic friendship, with that hint of flirting and love on his side that only means trouble. He’s handling himself rather well, he has a reputation amongst friends (namely a certain person Soonyoung becomes when he’s drunk) for always humiliating himself in front of someone he likes, becoming the most obvious person. He seems to be holding face rather well here, so far.

No awkwardness follows them to the subway. They sit next to each other as they talk, their laughter echoing throughout the empty carriage. The streets are dimly lit as they walk back to Wonwoo’s, shoulders occasionally touching as they sway. Wonwoo would be surprised at how comfortable he feels but, he’s not thinking about his feelings. He’s not thinking about anything. He’s just, talking to Mingyu.

They get to Wonwoo’s apartment and Nyangie greets him as he enters with a shrill meow, and all 187 centimeters of Mingyu bend down to the floor to greet her. The pair kick off their shoes in Wonwoo’s cramped hallway, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes and moves past them to the kitchen, making drinks while he lets them get acquainted.

“Don’t believe her shouting, she’s already been fed.” He shouts out to the hallway, to the sound of Nyangie’s eager meows. Mingyu walks out, Nyangie curling her tail around his legs and following him in tandem. Something pangs in Wonwoo’s chest.

“I think she likes me,” Mingyu giggles, bending down to stroke the top of her head. The cat keens, reaching up to reach his enthusiasm.

“She’s just hungry. She’s always hungry.” Wonwoo shakes his head. “I made hot chocolate, it’s, uh, cold outside.”

“That it is.” Mingyu takes a mug from Wonwoo’s awaiting hands with a grateful smile and nod, and Wonwoo leads them to his sofa. Nyangie follows them, choosing to lie with her head on Mingyu’s lap, purring up at him. Wonwoo attempts to hide his jealousy. Nyangie barely ever sits on his lap.

Mingyu puts his mug down on the tiny coffee table, before getting his camera out from his bag. He plays around with it, pressing buttons and flipping dials in a way that Wonwoo won’t even attempt to try to understand, then points it at Nyangie, taking photos from a multitude of angles, bringing the viewfinder up to his eye then holding the camera right down under Nyangie’s nose. He clicks his fingers and speaks in a baby voice to get Nyangie to get her to look in certain directions, and Wonwoo watches with an amused smile.

“Can I see the pictures?” He asks, peering over Nyangie’s body at the camera frame.

“I’m using my film camera today, so I’ll show you when I get them developed. I took some at the park too.”

Wonwoo laughs. “I saw. You took one of me.”

“I know. I’m excited to see that one.” Mingyu smirks, putting his camera back away.

“Me too.” Wonwoo smiles, resting his hand on Nyangie between them.

Wonwoo flicked on all his assorted lamps and fairy lights when he was making their drinks, so his apartment has a warm yellow glow that he’s grown to love. There’s not much personalization in his place, but he still tries to make it as homely and comforting as possible. As he sips his hot drink, stroking Nyangie calmly, he watches as Mingyu takes it in, his eyes flitting around the room, and out to the window, where the night view of Queens is just visible.

“What city were you born in? In Korea.” Mingyu suddenly asks, turning back to him.

“Changwon.” Wonwoo takes a sip. “I have faint memories from when I was a kid, and I visited my grandparents a few years ago. But that was just to see them, no sightseeing.” He turns to Mingyu. “Where are you from?”

“Anyang. Not as close to you.” Mingyu taps his fingertips on his own ceramic mug.

Wonwoo sighs. “No, not at all.”

“I really miss it. I miss my parents. It’s such a long time difference too, we have to book our Facetimes in advance.” Mingyu sighs deeply. “Maybe I’ll get to go back at the end of the year. Hopefully.”

“That’ll be good. You’ll have to tell me about it.”

Mingyu snorts. “Do I still have to write to the paper?”

Wonwoo smiles. “I think we’ve come this far, you can have my number.” He turns, and Mingyu is grinning like the cat that ate the canary. 

“I miss it too. I don’t have much of a connection to it, I can barely speak the language anymore. But it’s still home, right?” Mingyu nods in reply. “All the stories my parents have told me, all my friends who lived there… I want to find out more about where I came from.”

“Yeah, that would be fun.”

“Maybe we could go someday.” Wonwoo proposes, ignoring the fact that he has no money to go anytime soon, let alone this year. And also that this is an insanely forward thing to say.

But Mingyu just smiles. “Yeah, maybe we could.” He shuffles closer to Wonwoo with no subtlety whatsoever. “I’ll show you loads of good food. No recommendations needed for me, I can take you to all the best places.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“You underestimating me?” Mingyu scoffs. “That bibimbap place you told me about a few months ago, above the Chinese bakery?” Wonwoo nods. “That was good, but I know a better place. Down a tiny alley in Yeonnam-Dong. No online presence, no popularity, only about, five tables inside?” He moans, rolling his eyes back and kissing his pinched fingers. “But it’s just, ugh, the best.”

“Sounds good.” Wonwoo smiles, sinking into his sofa. “And fried chicken? The best, niche place for that?”

“BHC.” Mingyu bluntly responds, and Wonwoo laughs, covering his face with one hand. “What? It’s good!” Mingyu exasperates over his own laughter, cheeks rosy.

“Yeah, yeah, I believe you.”

Mingyu sinks into the sofa. “Do you, wanna go out to eat tomorrow.”

“Not sick of me already?” Wonwoo scoffs, giving in to the semi-flirty atmosphere Mingyu has created. Maybe he’s always like this.

“Never,” Mingyu shakes his head “Just feel like we need to catch up, visit all these places together.”

“Haven’t we already?” Wonwoo asks, putting his mug down on the table. “All the places we went to, that we recommended to each other, we technically went to together just, not at the same time.” He ponders, looking up at Mingyu, whose biting his lip. “We had each other in mind, right?”

“I definitely did.” Mingyu shrugs, voice low. Wonwoo swallows thickly, and Mingyu continues. “I know you told me everything about the places, but I still went everywhere thinking about why you liked these places, why you wanted to share them with me.” The air around them gets thicker as he continues. “It helped me learn about you, in a way.”

“That…wasn’t what I intended, actually.” Wonwoo furrows his eyebrows.

Mingyu smiles. “It’s what happened.”

Wonwoo sits up, running a hand through his hair. “Do you remember the cafe I recommended to you a few weeks ago, the one in Queens with all the clouds on the walls?”

“The one your friend runs?” Mingyu nods.

“Jihoon, yeah.” Wonwoo nods. “What did you speak to him about? He told me he spoke to you, but he didn’t tell me what.” He presses.

Mingyu smiles smally. “I told him I was, scared, of meeting you.” He props his head on his hand and turns his waist, his whole body facing Wonwoo. “Scared it would be awkward, or weird or, you’ve been the editor playing a joke the whole time.” His smile turns slightly into a pouty frown, fiddling with his fingers.

Without thinking, Wonwoo grabs Mingyu’s fingers, holding them and stopping him from moving them. Mingyu freezes in his grip, looking back up at Wonwoo.

Wonwoo focuses solely on their hands, loosely held together in the space between them. Nyangie has long since padded off, but neither of them have noticed. “So why did you ask now? How did you pluck up the courage?”

“I told you. I’ve been dreaming about you. I’ve been seeing you everywhere.” Wonwoo absentmindedly thumbs Mingyu’s hands in his, feeling a current course through his own skin as he does so. Mingyu leans closer. “I just, suddenly wanted to see you, meet you. Cut through all the waiting and anonymity and, do it like…this.”

“And do you prefer it like this?” Wonwoo looks up, meeting Mingyu the eyes. Much closer than before.

Mingyu scans his face, from eye…to eye…down to the lips.  “Yeah, definitely.” 

Wonwoo takes a deep breath, heavy under the pressure. “There was a night, about a month ago.” His thumb keeps moving lightly over Mingyu’s skin. “I went to the Brooklyn Bridge, in the middle of the night, the spot I told you about like, a week before.” He notices the flicker of emotion over Mingyu’s face, his eyes widening and cheeks softening. “I was there, and it was so peaceful, and I was all alone, except for one other person on the bridge.” Wonwoo calms himself internally, licking his lips nervously. “It was you, right?”

A wide smile breaks out on Mingyu’s face, and Wonwoo knows there’s no point denying the inevitable. He’s all in now.

“I think so.” He breathes out. “Yeah, that must have been me.I went there after you spoke about it and I uh, remember seeing someone else there. I wasn’t sure if it was you but, I hoped it was.” He giggles, teeth on display, and Wonwoo feels short of breath. His eyes follow and crinkle and Wonwoo feels like he’s about to die.

“Why didn’t you come closer?”

“Same reason as you, probably.” Mingyu shrugs, a small smirk on his lips.

All space is gone. Wonwoo’s folded knees bump into Mingyu’s, their hands loosely holding each other, Mingyu’s slowly inching up to hold Wonwoo’s wrist. The drinks have long since gone cold, forgotten, and all Wonwoo can think about is the gorgeous boy in front of him, leaning in more every time he blinks.

Mingyu licks his lips, looking down at Wonwoo’s, only getting closer and closer, and Wonwoo realizes it’s not just Mingyu - he’s leaning in too. “Is this, um, weird?” He almost whispers.

“No.” Wonwoo shakes his head, smiling wide. “I know you, don’t I?”

He doesn’t get to see Mingyu’s responding smile, because his eyes are already closed, kissing Mingyu before he can get to it first. Mingyu’s hand cups his jaw, pulling him in closer, and Wonwoo’s snakes up to Mingyu’s neck, touching and pulling and squeezing. He moves up onto his knees, sliding his way into Mingyu’s lap who makes a hum of approval, pulling him in further with a gentle hand on the small of his back. Their hands move desperately, tugging at each other’s clothes and shoulders as opposed to their lips, which move slow and deep and intimate. Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrow as he puts everything into each kiss, lets himself get dragged in deeper.

They kiss and kiss until Wonwoo thinks his lips are bruised, thinks he can’t breathe. His living room is filled with the sounds of their gasps and hums, the room getting hotter and Wonwoo’s heartbeat getting louder in his ears, electricity running through his body.

“Aren’t we moving too fast?” Mingyu breaks away to pepper down Wonwoo’s neck, then back up to focus on a particular spot behind his ear that has Wonwoo melting, biting back a groan.

“Don’t think so.” Wonwoo breathes out, tugging Mingyu’s hair. Mingyu pulls away reluctantly, and Wonwoo tries not to look at his puffy lips and red face in fear of falling too fast.

“Why’d you have to be so fuckin’ pretty?” Mingyu mutters to himself, voice low and eyes hooded, but his smile still undeniably golden. Wonwoo meets him again with an open mouth, dragging him down into the couch pillows.

⟶

WW

Hello! It’s been a few weeks, and I’ve noticed neither you nor MG have been writing into our personal section, and I’ve actually received a number of submissions from the public asking where the two of you have been. However, I’ve heard from a little birdie (Joshua sends his love. And also his apologies) that your meetup has been successful and you’ve been…meeting with good feelings ever since. I’m sincerely happy for both of you.

If possible, I’d love to personally interview both of you and do an official article on your story, and to catch readers up with what’s happened after the dramatic final submission. There’s been lots of buzz around the office as well, it’s been tough keeping my mouth shut. Please let me know if you’re happy with this idea. If not, just a coffee, to catch up with you both? There’s an amazing spot just around the corner from my office.

Best wishes,

Jeonghan Yoon

(From my personal email. I think we’re there now)