The morning was pleasant. Soft rays of the shine of a new day made their ways through the open windows, brightening up the room. A gentle breeze set in motion, rustling through the tree leaves outdoors, making the ambience cooler. An unexpected drizzle had blessed the early dawn before the Sun had peeked up at the eastern horizon and hence, the sweet coolness was still prevalent, lingering amidst the soft warmth. A bright and lovely day to live, to smile, to enjoy and to stay bliss.

The cafe wasn't yet too crowded, few youths and a couple of people on their way to work had settled at the tables to have a short and subtle breakfast, their low gossips and hurried actions creating a buzzing ambience around. Slight clinking of utensils, along with machines and other objects were added to the environment. The workers of the shop were at a hurry and there was no pause in their early morning duties.

Yeosang served as the waiter, taking orders, arranging the items and serving it at the particular tables. Quick feet movements accompanied with hastiness and skill made him efficient, not missing a single order and carrying out his work with efficiency. He was happy to do so, a smile etched upon his soft features, prim and proper and extremely polite. He loved doing this, everyday and had never a reason to complain. It was far better than all those disgusting orphanage chores

"Nix, order for table number 07. Is it done yet?" Yeosang called, flattening the creases upon his chocolate brown apron with the palm of his hands and looking up, "They're in a hurry for their office and we gotta be quick."

"Just a second, Sang," the barista spoke, getting the drinks ready and taking two clean plates out in order to place a croissant on one and waffles on the other. His hands moved like flashes of lightning and Yeosang wondered how long had he been in this job to have plucked up such quick moves without any fail.

Nix arranged the items on a big tray and handed it to Yeosang, the later walking away with it, careful enough to not trip or drop any of it. As he reached the table, he set the food upon the table, serving the customers with a sweet smile and a bow in the end. The customers, two boys presumably in their late twenties, returned him a pleasant smile with a polite 'thank you' and resumed their talk. Yeosang felt glad at their sweet conduct and carried the tray back to the counter.

The morning slipped away soon and it was already afternoon, three by the clock. The shop was temporarily closed for the time and would reopen in the evening. The workers had a break to chill and take a brisk tour down the lanes, while Nix and Yeosang went back to the rooms behind the shop which was Nix's house. The former immediately strided away into the kitchen to make a meal while Yeosang settled himself at the table near the kitchen, watching the cook with keen interest, a bubble of emotions gurgling within his chest, numerous thoughts occupying his head, resulting in soft tinges of a pinkish hue being dusted upon his cheeks.

"It's ready," Nix called, as he emerged out of the kitchen with two bowls in his hand, warm noodles with eggs and several vegetables endowed. Yeosang loved it the most, the noodles that Nix made, with his own twist of spices and ingredients instead of adding just the packaged seasonings. Nix placed the bowls upon the table along with the chopsticks and spoons, and Yeosang's face beamed with happiness. He immediately picked the chopsticks up and dug into his food, eager for a quick taste.

The owner of the cafe settled down in front of the other, fingers trailing upon the utensil as he looked at the boy in front of him eating in glee without a pause. He felt happy, softly sighing. Seeing the boy enjoy the meal he prepared made him feel giddy, and the soft thump that he felt within his heart along with a warm feeling all over his face and ears couldn't be ignored. Nix knew what was happening.

"You- You are staring, Nix," Yeosang pointed out, as he noticed the other's eyes lingering over him. He felt shy.

"Oh no no I didn't, I'm sorry," the latter spoke in hesitancy, as he quickly turned to his bowl to focus on his meal. He felt exposed.

The afternoon passed quietly, and after a hearty meal, both felt immensely satisfied. Nix took the bowls away and even though he received a strong resilience from Yeosang about doing the dishes alone and the latter offering help, he politely declined. Yeosang, feeling a little sad, went back to the table with a pout, not knowing what to indulge himself in. Drumming his fingertips softly upon the surface of the table, his eyes started to linger about within the space, scanning the substances around. The boy was just about to get closely attached to a clock set upon a small table far away, it's intricate patterns attracting him, when suddenly, he heard Nix's phone, which lay close to his hand, chime and glow.

Yeosang wondered, what could it be. He looked at it, the screen glowing. He could clearly see a text message upon the surface, looking vivid with the black wallpaper behind. The boy was quick enough to read what it said.

Maskie

I've told him everything. He knows it all now, as well as my original identity. Come to my place tonight and bring that boy with you as well. We can't be late, not anymore.

Yeosang was beyond confused, and as the screen turned black once again, he couldn't help but think it through, desperately trying to find a clue behind the message. Something within him changed, and he definitely didn't feel alright. Especially when it was prominently mentioned in the text that he was to be included in the night's mission, wherever it was to be held and whatever it was all about. For a brief moment, all the trust that he had reaped for the man who gave him a roof seemed to vanish away, leaving behind a dark void of lies and distrust.

Suddenly, something struck to him. The name of the sender. Maskie. Yeosang thought deeply, trying to find some meaning behind the name and yet, he wasn't sure about any of the assumptions he put forth.

Maskie? Something to do with masks- as in- masked- The Masked Man-?

* * *

The boy sat upon the chair, fingers tapping on his lap, his lower lip tugged behind his teeth under pressure, eyes blinking rapidly in nervousness. He couldn't look up, he didn't have the courage to do so. Instead, he chose to keep his gaze fixated upon his shoes and not to let his eyes linger about.

"I still am in doubt as to whether I should be believing you or not," the man in front of him spoke, placing his hands behind upon the surface of the table, eyes solely upon the boy sitting in front of him.

"I told you everything, San," the reply was immediate and herein, the speaker did raise his head slightly in order to meet the other's gaze, "And rest assure that I'm hiding nothing. I want you to take action against him and you've got my support. What's there that you still don't believe?"

San's expressions didn't change much, and yet, he seemed to drown in thoughts. Within the previous weeks, he had unravelled the true identity of Wooyoung, his business partner, right in front of him, acknowledging him with the fact that he had already known what filthy business the background he belonged to had. At first, San almost regretted it and had expected a quick resistance or something worser to shut his mouth, perhaps even killed. But the response he received from the boy quite baffled him.

Wooyoung, after knowing that his true self was exposed to San, didn't resist to hide it. On the contrary, he accepted it and revealed it to the CEO that, he was being abused within the four walls of the mansion, something that San had predicted way earlier. Wooyoung gave him lengthy explanations about everything that was being carried out in that place, exposing the true nature of the man behind it all and all the crimes he commits on a daily basis. In conclusion, the only thing Wooyoung said was-

"I don't want to be there anymore. I just- I just want to escape."

"I can help you with your wishes," San spoke after a while, the listener instantly raising his head to look at him, "To get that man caught and never step into that house."

"Really-"

"Only on one condition."

Wooyoung was confused.

"What? What is the condition, San?"

"You're not going back to that house anymore," it came more like a warning, "Even as of now. If you do, I'll immediately know that you've got their backs and not mine. You'll be staying at my apartment and will leave only when I say. If you agree to this, I'll gladly let you walk into my team."

Wooyoung hesitated for a moment, but it didn't stay for long.

"I agree to it," his reply was firm and unwavering. San noticed the glint of determination in his eyes and finally, decided to believe him.

He honestly did. From a long time.

"Tonight, I'm taking you somewhere," San informed, going back to his seat and easing upon the furniture, "You'll be finally joining my team and be a firm resistance against that man. There's no turning back now, Jung Wooyoung."

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Thoughts?

More interesting stuff to come in the next cps. Stay tuned y'all<3