Jeongguk hummed along to the melody, a quiet rhythm weaving through the warm hum of his favorite coffee shop. A small, genuine smile touched his lips. He’d recently slipped a list of song suggestions to the cashier, and she’d embraced it with surprising enthusiasm. He’d simply grown weary of the bland, repetitive piano tunes that seemed to lull customers into a drowsy haze. It wasn’t even *good* classical music; it was a generic loop, a sonic wallpaper.
He hadn’t anticipated the cashier passing his list to the manager.
The next time he visited, the air vibrated with a different energy – a daily song by Hwang Chi-yeul. The same cashier recognized him, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. She’d shared the list with her manager, who’d put it into play. She even mentioned a customer had commented on the revitalizing music a few days prior.
Jeongguk’s smile lingered as he sketched the hanging plant baskets, his attention fully absorbed. He hadn’t noticed someone approaching until a chair scraped against the marbled floor, announcing a presence.
He looked up to see a young man, perhaps a year or two older, pulling out a chair and settling into the space usually left empty. A subtle grin played on his lips.
Without reaction, as usual, Jeongguk returned to his sketchbook, his focus re-establishing itself.
“I heard you’re the one who changed the music here,” the man said, his voice a low murmur. “You have good taste.”
Without looking up, Jeongguk offered a quiet, “Thank you.”
“You’re not going to ask why I’m sitting here?” The man paused, watching Jeongguk sketch.
“Do I need to?” Jeongguk replied, his gaze fixed on the leaves and vines.
“I guess not. I’ll tell you anyway, but only once. Take notes in that little sketchbook of yours.” He gestured toward the book with a tilt of his head, which Jeongguk hadn't noticed as he was still focused on his sketch.
“Full name, Kim Taehyung. Friends call me Tae. Twenty-two. Ramyun master. Interested in music, coffee, and you. Phone number, xx-x-xxx-xxxx. Hope you got all of that.”
Jeongguk finally lifted his gaze, meeting Taehyung’s eyes. “Sorry, did you say something?”
Taehyung chuckled softly, rising from his seat. “See ya.”
Jeongguk watched him leave, walking in the opposite direction of his usual route. His gaze followed Taehyung until he disappeared around the corner, then returned to his sketchbook.
Beside the delicate plants, he’d scribbled notes in a neat, cursive script:
Kim Taehyung Twenty-two Likes ramyun and coffee Good taste in music Handsome xx-x-xxx-xxxx Must sketch Colour palette - Brown - Blue - Gold
A faint smile touched his lips, remembering how his hand had moved almost independently, compelled to record the details. It had felt like a quiet rebellion against the blank page.
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