A PLAN FOR LOVE ✓

nineteen : yeonjun

I zip down town as my phone chirps out directions to Hitchhiker Brewing from my back pocket.

I am stuffed.

I ate a ton of pancakes.

I recognize Hitchhiker Brewing’s tall smokestack from my Google searches, a holdover from its former factory days. I bank left and slow to a stop just outside before hopping off my bike, my phone’s GPS calling out a “You have arrived!”

Jim still isn’t here. Which makes sense. Beomgyu practically pushed me out the door so I wouldn’t be late, and I took this shortcut pretty fast, thinking about calling Soobin.the whole way here. My eyes are still stinging from the wind.

I sit down on the curb and, with some time to spare, press the call button just under his name. Since Soob sleeps late, I couldn’t call this morning, and I’ll be busy with work until late tonight, so now is the perfect time.

Plus, something about the potato pancakes reminded me of our diner pancakes, and I spent most of the bike ride extra excited to hear his voice.

I hold my breath as it rings. Once. Twice.

“Yeonjun?” he says as he picks up. I jump to my feet at the sound of hisnvoice, but… it doesn’t sound as excited as I was hoping for. I nervously pace along the cracked sidewalk that runs alongside the parking lot. There are muffled voices in the background, the sound of a bass thumping out a few notes.

“Hey, babe! How’s it going?”

“Why are you calling me now?” he asks, and I frown in confusion, pulling the phone away from my ear to stare at the screen for a second before putting it back up.

“You told me to call you.”

Yesterday? At frozen yogurt? There was a heart emoji and everything.

“Yeah,” he says. “But I didn’t mean now. I have a gig tonight. I have to get ready.”

So much for the perfect time to call.

“I know. Doesn’t it not start for, like… six more hours?”

There’s no way in hell he has to “get ready” for six hours. Not when I know for a fact he doesn’t help carry any of the equipment.

Soobin lets out a long sigh. “Things are different on the road, Yeonjun. You wouldn’t understand.” The muffled voices in the background fade as he moves somewhere quieter. “But I guess we can talk now since it works for you.”

“If you can’t, it’s—”

“No, no. Go ahead,” he says. “What’s up with you?”

“I got a job working on a food truck. It’s been pretty good so far. Some solid tips. All cash. I’m just waiting for my shift to start.” I kick at a small rock on the ground, watching it bounce its way down the street.

“Oh. Cool.”

He doesn’t ask any follow-up questions, and the silence that follows is deafening. So I ask him one instead. “How’s the tour going?”

“It’s been so great. People actually know our music! They sing along and everything. It’s been super wild.”

“That sounds awesome. I can’t wait for your turn to do the tour here,” I say, holding my breath.

“Yeah, me neither,” Soobin says, and his words bring a smile to my face, especially after such a precarious start.

“Twenty more days.”

“Is that it? Wow.” He’s silent for a second. “So, you got a new girlfriend, or…?”

I frown as a slight pang of queasiness grips my stomach, and not because of the mountain of potato pancakes taking up space in there.

I haven’t told him about Beomgyu and what we’re doing just yet, and him making a comment like that leaves me to believe this is… absolutely not the time to do so, even though this is my first real chance since I left Ansan. I just don’t want his misunderstanding and getting angry with me over nothing.

Especially not when I just got off silent treatment.

“Too busy thinking about you,” I say, watching as a black food truck whips around the corner, the back tires bumping violently over the curb. I jump out of the way before Jim has a chance to flatten me, the truck hissing to a stop outside the brewery.

“Mm-hmm,” Soobin says, clearly skeptical.

“You’ll see when you get here,” I say, watching as Jim busts out the back door. He lights up his preshift cigarette while the fryer heats up to temperature.

“I hope so,” he says, before pulling the phone away from his ear to call out “Coming!” to someone waiting in the distance. “I’ve got to go. We want to rehearse ‘Sleepy Girl’ a few times, since Jooyeon messed up that sick bass line in the bridge two nights ago.”

“I love that song.”

“Of course you do,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I mean, I wrote it for you.”

I can hear his name being called, and he lets out a frustrated sigh, his voice muffled as he yells out, “I need literally, like, two more seconds, Gaon!”

“Break a leg tonight, okay?” I say when he comes back on, and he laughs, the vibe suddenly so different than it is when we’re texting. So… right.

Sometimes it feels like every day is a different Soobim. Sometimes I wish it were just this Soobin.

“If Jooyeon fucks it up tonight, someone’s leg is going to be broken, that’s for sure.”

I smile, the familiar flow from before our fight two weeks ago finally finding its way back.

“I’ll call you later, okay? Maybe tomorrow?”

“That sounds good,” I say, hoping he does. We say our goodbyes, and I head over to where Jim is lounging against the back of the truck.

“That your bike?” he asks, pointing to my fluorescent-orange Facebook Marketplace find, locked up on the side of the building.

I nod and Jim snorts, even though he was the person who suggested getting one after I found out it would take me an hour and a half on a bus to get to the lunch shift we’re working this week. Biking there will take fifteen minutes flat. Truly life-changing.

“It’s ugly as fuck,” he says, snuffing out his cigarette before swinging open the truck door and hopping on.

I roll my eyes and follow after him to set everything up, a comfortable silence falling over us as our usual routine begins. Jim handles the prep cooler while I put out the menu, get the cash register ready, and open the window when it’s go time.

Almost instantly, the customers stroll out from inside, and our steady rhythm kicks in. My mind shuts off as I take orders and hand out the finished product (with just one napkin!) again and again. It’s easy to keep a smile plastered on my face after that phone call with Soobin, even though… the queasiness still lingers when I think of how things are going on the Beomgyu front.

It took Beomgyu two weeks to get Taehyun’s number.

And Soobin is going to be here in only three weeks.

I know this is a Beomgyu-centric plan, but I don’t have that kind of time. I can’t fuck around and make potato pancakes and eat frozen yogurt when Soobin is coming in just twenty days. Soobin needs to see that I can really connect with and help people. That I can have friends who are just friends. That people can open up to me about their feelings and I won’t just run off into the night.

He’s not going to believe me if I just say I’ve been hanging out with some guy to help him get a boyfriend. That guy needs to either have the boyfriend or be pretty damn close.

When the lull sets in, I pull out my phone and fire off a text to Beomgyu.

We’re doing Step 2. Tomorrow. I’ll be there by 10:30.

I need proof. And I need it fast.

Beongyu isn’t the only one trying to get the guy.

Here’s hoping I can keep mine.