Ye-Jin had always dreamed of a life in the city, far away from the quiet town in which she grew. The city pulsed with life; its streets are filled with possibilities, and its skyline stretches endlessly towards the sky. She was just arriving; the weight of her bags reminded her of a fresh start she so desperately hoped for.

It was the first morning in that city, and for her it indeed had been very cold, crisp air, promising early fall. After leaving her new apartment, taking a deep breath while at once sensing all the hustle and bustle going on, a brisk pace of people walking in the sidewalk whose faces are full as part of their life rhythm. Ye-Jin, though, felt like an outsider—a complete stranger in this still alien city. Being from a small town did not help; she felt like a guest in other people's lives.

She had an inexplicable desire to go into a small, quaint café between a bookstore and an art gallery. It had the charm of years with its ancient brick walls and wooden sign strung out over the sidewalk, swaying in the breeze. The sign said "Whispers" in delicate, cursive lettering. Something seemed to be calling her in this place.
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She hesitated, not knowing what to do. However, encouragement to warmth and perhaps even a cup of coffee led her to push the door open. The opening of the door led her into the warm fragrance of freshly brewed coffee and freshly baked pastries. She felt comforted immediately. It was small and rather cozy. For some reason, the place had a homely feeling, even with the mismatched furniture. The background provided soft jazz music that was perfectly meshed with hums of conversations and clinking cups.

"Welcome to Whispers!" a voice called out from behind the counter.

The young man looked up and smiled. His hair was dark, slightly tousled about the forehead. Warmth leapt into his eyes as he carefully poured milk into the steamy cup of coffee. Behind the counter he stood, an apron wrapped around his waist, simple yet quietly confident, calm to a bone about him.

"Hi," Ye-Jin said, with a shy smile. "I'm new to the city. and I thought I'd try this place."

"You've made a good choice," the barista said now, with a wide smile. "I am Joon, and I'm pretty sure you'll love it here. What can I get for you today?"

He studied the menu on the wall behind him. All these options stunned him—coffee, cappuccino, lattes, all these pastries in all flavors and shapes. She didn't know which one to order. She looked up at Joon, who was smiling at her with amusement.

"Okay, maybe just a latte this time," she said, her voice uncertain.

"Comin' right up." Joon nodded quickly and began, his movements slick and efficient. As Ye-Jin prepared herself for a drink, she looked around the coffee shop and focused her attention on other people. There were some sparsely scattered patrons who appeared to be captivated by their respective worlds. A woman sat in one corner reading a book, and a man at another table was silently tapping away on his laptop. The place gave off an impression that time nearly stood still, as though the outside chaos had retreated to find some refuge.

Ye-Jin turned her focus to a man behind the window, partially hidden behind a guitar case. He has dark hair loosely falling about his face. His body relaxed—a pose that said Ye-Jin he has nothing to worry about in this world. The soft strum of his guitar sounded through some of the sounds that wandered through the air with noises of background music. It was kind of captivating about him, as if he were one among the parts of the café, an extension of the quiet charm of the place.

"Here you are. One latte, just like you requested," Joon's voice came clear through her head as he slid a steaming latte across the counter to her.

"Thanks," said Ye-Jin, taking the cup in both her hands. She did not know why, but warmth from the drink seemed to seep through into her skin; for the first time since coming to the city, she felt a little glow of comfort. Taking a sip, the smooth, creamy flavor seemed just right.

Joon watched her with a knowing smile. "You seem like you could use some time to unwind. Take a seat wherever you like. There's no rush."

Ye-Jin smiled gratefully. "I think I will."

She saw a small table next to the window; the light filtered through the glass and cast a soft shadow around her. The café was quiet, with an occasional murmur of conversation or a spoon hitting a cup. Taking a deep breath, she let herself relax, perhaps for the first time in days.

She sat down, and the young man by the window, playing the guitar, looked up. He met her eyes briefly, a silent acknowledgement in his gaze. Back to the guitar then, fingers stroking the strings again with effortless ease across the music. It filled the space again softly, melodiously.

Ye-Jin could hardly even divert her attention to him, as his presence seemed effortless. His music was heavenly, and at the same time there was a depth to it that made her feel he was narrating a story for every note. She wondered who he was, what brought him there, and why he seemed so lost in his own world.

A few minutes later, Joon arrives at her table, carrying a tray with a small plate of pastries. "On the house," he says, with a grin. "I figured you might like a little something sweet to go with your coffee."

"Oh, thank you," Ye-Jin said, her smile spreading in surprise. "You really didn't need to."

"It's the least I can do," Joon said. "It's not every day we get someone new in here, especially somebody who seems like they need a little break from the world."

Ye-Jin smiled lightly. "I am just trying to find my place in all of this."

"Well," Joon said, resting carelessly against the table, "this is a good place to start."

Ye-Jin nodded, taking another swig of her latte. She didn't know why this one café felt so different from any other, but somehow and instantly, she felt like she belonged. The soft music, the warmth of the people, the serenity that seemed to hang in the air—it was everything she had been looking for.

She sat there, lost in thought. The door to the café softly chimed open, and yet another customer stepped inside. She looked up to see yet another busy professional, but, much to her surprise, she was staring at the musician she had seen earlier. He was walking toward the counter and had his guitar case slung over his shoulders.

Her heart skipped a beat. Could that be the same guy?

It was as though his eyes had glanced her way again, but this time he kept it a fraction of a second longer than she could have expected. For the second time again, there was something dramatically magnetic about his presence that made her pulse go faster than she could possibly describe. She turned her attention to the contents of her coffee cup, not wanting to get caught looking.

He strode across the counter, and Joon smiled as he waved at him.

"Good morning, Jungkook!" Joon called out, grinning. "Something special planned for today?"

Jungkook nodded almost imperceptibly, a small tug at his mouth that held a subtle smile. "I always have something special planned," he said in a rather quiet voice.

Ye-Jin couldn't help looking up again. There was a casual ease about his movements, an aura of mystery around him. She wondered what kind of person he was—quiet, intent, but with a certain charm that was impossible to overlook.

And there, standing at the counter and ordering his usual, a few other patrons noticed him, some nodding in greeting, others giving him small smiles. He knew all the people in this place.

He turned, and they met eyes again; this time his gaze lingered for a moment before he returned his attention to Joon. He said something quietly to him, then looked back at Ye-Jin, giving a brief meaningful smile. Such an inconsequential gesture, but it sent her heart pounding in ways she didn't seem to understand.

Before she even had time to think, Jungkook went towards a small table by the window, his guitar case next to him as he sat down. He didn't seem in any rush. His presence was all calm, almost as if waiting for something—or maybe someone.

Ye-Jin's heart skipped a beat when she looked over at him, not knowing what he might be thinking behind those quiet eyes.

But then, just as quickly as he had appeared, the moment seemed to disappear into thin air, leaving her with a question that would never be answered.

Who really was he? And why did she have this feeling already about him?

TO BE CONTINUED...