Cold Coffee | 𝐉. 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 ✓

11

11

[Jeong Yunho]
> 9th Jan 2023

      The curve of my lips was a little different today. It felt indistinct to my intentions, to my eyes—it seemed outlandish. I smiled again, thought it would make a difference. It didn't. I could tell it's feigned. If I can, then so can others. Till now, no one had ever seen any disparity in my smile. No one tried to scrutinise my smile that much to know it was fake.

      I wonder if San would catch up on it. I'm supposed to meet him for a drink; talk about the usual things, maybe get wasted by the end of the night, and regret ever going out. San had been my friend for a long time now. He is an author like me. Although, he writes mysteries and thrillers, his works are renowned in town. We've been friends since senior year of college, we had the same major. I can rely on him the most out of anyone I know. He knows some of my darkest secrets, some moments I didn't share with anyone else but him.

      I splashed enough water on my face to melt my despair with the coldness. I had no use for warmth. I didn't deserve warmth, or affection. A few drops of water trickled down my face, leaving behind a trail of gelid tremors across my skin. My hair got wet, stuck to my forehead; I was getting tired of it, the trite tuft of black. I should dye it. I really wanted to. I did act up on the blurred thought I got. I opened the cabinet under my sink, found a box dye. Peach. Slightly inclined towards pink. I don't remember seeing or even buying this. When did I buy this?

      It didn't take me much time to dye my hair—to pat it dry, to style it the way I preferred; I parted my hair in the middle and let it frame my face. I was tired, oppressed somewhat. Wearily, I got dressed. Threw on a shirt and paired it with loose trousers; I grabbed my jacket off the coat rack and marched out of my apartment, locking it behind me. I skipped one step at a time, eager to meet San, and drink some Chardonnay. I could feel it trickle down my throat, the taste of the white wine.

      I met San in the lobby of my apartment complex; he seemed jubilant, as he always does. He offered me a smile, and I reflected back, hoping I was faking it good. He patted my back when he hugged me close to him, the smile on his face never straying off.

      "Change of plans Yun." he said, "there's a good cafe nearby our publication. You know the one by the intersection..?"

       "What about it?" I asked, as we continued walking out; strolling on the bustling street, past the people. I've heard about it, apparently San really liked to visit it during his break time.

      "Let's give it a shot, today. Try something new." He hesitated when he suggested, "I heard the place is warm and cosy. Besides, you need to take a break from drinking too much alcohol."

      "So, caffeine is the way to do it?"

       San scoffed, "everyone needs a change of pace. I'm not making any promises but I need you off the..."

      I knew what he meant. I always looked for a way to consume alcohol, and it would always be whenever I retraced my memories back to all the worst experiences of my life, my childhood, my family. Yoonjung's death, my mom's raging alcoholism, Mingi's conniption—my own inanity of being happy.

      Night dawned over our heads, miles and miles of darkness stretched above with a pocket full of stars scattered haphazardly; I found the night sky more inviting than the daylight. Everyone wants to be a sun in someone's life and share their brightness. But I want to be someone's moon—someone who would shine in your darkest moments. Maybe, I was looking for a moon of my own. And I hadn't realised that until I stumbled across you. 

      San and I had been arguing about a particular issue which I don't seem to recall anymore. I walked in, and he was in my pursuit. I saw you then, standing behind the counter; apparently bored out of your mind. I saw the exhaustion on your beautiful face, I was captivated by your alluring presence. You had lured me into you the moment I laid my eyes on your that day, at the bar, when you were breaking up with someone.

      'Saeyan.' That's your name. I heard it that day. You were seeking out an opportunity to connect with me, I could tell by the way you frequented your awkward glances my way. I was sitting by the window booth with San sitting opposite to me, he was busy sipping his decaf, while I thought about drinking my coffee. I didn't like coffee. I never did. Seemingly, coffee is not a proper replacement for alcohol. So, I just watched it go cold, while I composed a little theory about you. About my moon.