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Chapter 3

On Saturday, Minsoo and Minwoo were at the café all day. For the most part, Minwoo got to sit around behind the counter while his brother worked, and he absolutely loved that because he thought everything he did was extremely fascinating, which was expected for someone at his age. In all honesty, he was just happy to spend time with his brother on the weekends.

When it got busy, Minwoo knew that he shouldn't get in anyone's way, so he'd sit around in the staff room until rush hour ended. In times like this, Minsoo would give him his phone to keep him entertained because he felt bad for leaving him by himself, but Minwoo wasn't like most children. Instead of being totally obsessed with the device like other children were, he would only play games when he was allowed to. Even then, he usually preferred calling or texting Eunbi, but when she was busy, he'd play a game.

Indeed, he was childish, which was only natural because he was a child, but he also knew when he needed to behave. Even with his extended periods of absence, Minsoo had raised him well (with a little help from Eunbi, of course).

When rush hour had finally come to an end and Minwoo was allowed to sit behind the counter again, which was around 4:30 pm, a boy with shiny, blonde hair came in. The lower portion of his hair was dyed a pretty pink, but Minsoo couldn't tell if that had been on purpose or if his roots had grown in since the coloring. He had an expensive looking phone placed at his ear, and he walked towards the counter with confident strides. He was the kind of guy who'd grow up to be a successful businessman, and everyone before and after him would do the same. In other words, he was filthy rich.

Mr. Cell Phone lifted up three fingers and mouthed, "Café Mocha to go."

Minsoo smiled his warm, welcoming smile and asked, "What's the name?"

Mr. Cell Phone stared for a moment too long and then flushed as pink as his hair. He murmured a soft, "I'll call you back," and then ended the call. Just as quickly as it had fallen, his confident appearance returned, "Oseong. Hong Oseong. And you are...?" He looked at his uniform, "Minsoo?"

He nodded, smiling with his eyes, "Nice to meet you, Oseong."

"What's your opinion on music?" Oseong asked curiously, handing him his credit card.

Minsoo blinked once, "Music?" He paused, thinking, "I think it's a lovely thing. It can comfort you or entertain you depending on your mood, and there's always something that fits your preference. It can create a whole different universe that belongs only to you. I would say it's quite magical."

Mr. Cell Phone smiled, "I agree."

He handed him a pen and the receipt, "Would you like a copy?"

"Yes, please," he said politely. He wrote a fancy signature at the bottom of Minsoo's copy and filled out his own receipt with identical cursive letters. He wrote something else on it, but Minsoo didn't pay much attention to it.

As he was making his three drinks, Minwoo whispered to his older brother, "I think he likes you."

He gave him a stern look, "You shouldn't say things like that, Minwoo."

"But I was just being honest..." he mumbled, pouting from where he sat beside him.

Minsoo knelt down in front of his brother, a kind expression on his pretty face, "I'm not mad at you. I'm just saying that you shouldn't assume such things about people." He picked up an Iced Americano from the counter and said, "You see that boy over there? The one with black hair?"

Minwoo followed his gaze, "The one sitting by himself?"

He nodded, "Can you give this to him?"

He beamed a smile up at his brother, "Of course!" Minsoo helped him around the counter, and he skipped over to where the boy was sitting. He tugged on his sleeve and smiled when he turned to look at him. "Here ya go!" he said cheerfully, holding his drink up for him to reach.

The boy took out one of his earbuds and gave him a weird look, "Iced Americano?"

Minwoo smiled brightly, "Yep!" He climbed into the booth in front of him and sat down, earning another confused stare. "You come here a lot, don't ya? I saw you last night, too. Oh, Minsoo-Hyung told me to give that to you."

He blinked, taking a sip of his drink, "'Minsoo-Hyung?' Is that guy your brother?"

"Yep, and I get to spend all weekend with him," Minwoo said, beaming even brighter.

The boy smiled ever so slightly, "And what's your name, Kid?"

He giggled happily, "I'm Minwoo, and you are...?"

"Hyojin," he said softly, "Park Hyojin."

~*~*~*~

Around 10 o'clock that evening, Minsoo was checking over the receipts from that day when he found Oseong's fancy signature. It was then that he noticed a short message at the bottom of the paper: Can you sing? He flipped it over to check the back, and, sure enough, there were more fancy-lettered words: If yes, text me xxx-xxx-xxxx. He must've written this down while Minsoo was distracted with his brother.

Just as he had finished jotting down Oseong's number on his own piece of paper, Minwoo emerged from the staff room, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "I'm tired," he mumbled softly, "When are we going home?"

Minsoo ruffled his hair gently and laughed a little, "We'll be going soon. I told you to go to sleep earlier last night, otherwise this was going to happen."

He whined, "Can I take a nap? Just a teeny tiny one?" He was tugging on his brother's sleeve, asking to be picked up.

Carefully, Minsoo lifted him into his arms and let him rest his head comfortably against his shoulder. He rocked back and forth gently as Minwoo drifted off to sleep.

More than he wanted to admit, Minsoo actually felt extremely sorry for his little brother. They only had each other, but because they had no money, he had to do everything he could to support them both. He needed to make money for food, school, daycare, and babysitting, and sometimes that meant sacrificing more than he would've liked. But as long as Minwoo was happy, he would take care of everything else.

We're going to be okay, he told himself for the nth time that day.

Everything's going to be okay.