Beomgyu's Potion Shop

Chapter 3

Beomgyu has never run a lemonade stand before, but that's what it feels like he's doing, selling potions from a long wooden table sheltered by an arched tent. The potion shop, in renovation, sits behind him. He can still smell the smoke.

His parents visited him yesterday. It'll be okay, Beomgyu's mom had said. You were so exhausted. It was all an accident, and I'm just thankful you're safe. His dad added a similar sentiment—You're more important than any building or potion.

He wanted to be grateful, but all he felt like doing was crying again. His parents are somewhere in the city, visiting relatives. They trust him enough to man the stand by himself, so he cannot let them down again. He's supposed to be a professional shopkeeper, not the blundering amateur who gives customers the wrong potion.

But it wasn't just a customer. It was Soobin.

Beomgyu groans, rubbing a palm into his forehead. Once he's halfway done feeling bad for himself, he turns his attention to his portable gas stove. The cauldron sits awkwardly on it, leaning over like a building without a foundation.

The love potion bubbles, sparkling with a new addition of micro glitter. Beomgyu feels the same way every time the heat rises to the right level—a rush of adrenaline. He turns the heat low and can taste the tang of magic in the air.

A few of his customers have remained loyal, sitting around picnic tables and benches. His potions are set on a looming display, casting strange colors with the refracted light. But those all fade into the background. All that matters now is the love potion—just the right color, the tang so close to perfection.

"Hello?"

Beomgyu looks up, drawn to the familiar voice. At the same time, the cauldron bubbles violently, and the whole thing tips off the gas stove.

Beomgyu's ears are greeted with a dolphin scream. With the luck of magic, the only things the bubbling mixture touches are the table and grass. Fortunately, nothing catches on fire. Beomgyu wants to scream, but at the same time he's distracted by the Greek god before him.

Huening Kai is tall and has an infectious laugh—like the one that just graced his ears.

When the fire dies, Huening Kai approaches the stand again with a somber apology. "I'm so sorry, Beomgyu. I know you were hard at work."

He doesn't know. He can't know.

How would Huening Kai know that he's trying to make a love potion? It's both illegal and ethically wrong to make Huening Kai fall in love with him, but he's always known that his wizardry would lead him down a path like this. Even though he's always been the good boy growing up.

"I brought you something," Huening Kai says. "After hearing that your shop almost burnt down, you came to mind. I really hope you like it."

Huening Kai must've dropped the gift bag in shock, but he reaches down and grabs it, handing it to Beomgyu over the table.

Beomgyu's dismay at losing his almost-there love potion evaporates. He opens the bag, giddy like a child on Christmas Day.

Inside, a sparkling snow globe reveals itself from the brittle wrapping paper. He turns it around in his hand. From all the recent movement, the little glittering pieces are stirring like a shiny hurricane. The glass smooths over his hands, and tears spring to his eyes. The piece in the center of the globe is a skyscraper. Beomgyu ponders over the meaning.

"Why did you get me this?" Beomgyu asks, the unsaid words of his mind taunting him—Is it because you like me?

Huening Kai hesitates a bit, scratching his lip with his left thumb. As the potion drinkers revel in their gossip, the quiet between them grows deep.

Beomgyu decides to leave it. "Anyway, I'll have your usual ready in a second. You'll be speeding through math class like never before."

Huening Kai's usual order is a potion for intelligence. It doesn't make anyone turn into Einstein, but it does wonders for students who want to raise their grade by several percentages. Huening Kai has been his loyal customer for five years now, back when his parents still ran everything. In that amount of time, his admiration has grown steadily. He didn't fall in love suddenly—it was more like a flame that kept expanding.

Beomgyu grabs several ingredients from his mobile pantry, throwing in sage and lemon peel and some pink salt into his cauldron. He finishes off the mixture with extract from coral off the coast of Hawaii.

Beomgyu flicks his gaze up, finding that Huening Kai is watching him with longing in his eyes.

"What's—"

"I like you, Beomgyu," Huening Kai says in a rush.

Beomgyu almost drops a second cauldron. He tries to find the right words, but all the leaves of the forest seem to scream at him not to mess this up. His wish is finally answered. This could be true love. This could take him from simple potion-maker to person in love. And he didn't even need the love potion.

"I like you too," Beomgyu says, finding that his answer is like choosing a simple ingredient, as fresh and vibrant as he needs.

Huening Kai tries to smile, but his eyes flick away just when Beomgyu thinks he might lean over the table and kiss him.

Below him, the bubbling turns violent, and fortunately Beomgyu turns off the heat in time. The result is a topaz with the sheen that could light up the sky. He bottles it, his movements going at automatic. He's just about to stuff the cork in the top when Huening Kai sucks in a deep breath.

"I got you the snow globe because I'm leaving," Huening Kai says. "For New York. I wanted to give you a present that you can remember me by. I hope that you can come to the States and visit. I'm sorry that I didn't confess sooner. I guess I was just afraid of you rejecting me. But everytime I bought my intelligence potion, you were the part that I was looking forward to. It's weird how we kind of grew up together, and in my mind we were dating in some strange way."

The shock, joy, and sadness of it all causes Beomgyu's hand to slip. Even so, he catches the potion in time. He corks it and ties it with string in a flourish.

He holds back the tears. "I wish it could be different too," Beomgyu says. "Now I feel stupid, for not confessing either. I wasted so much time, when I could've been doing so much more than giving you potions."

Huening Kai manages a sad grin. They spend the next half hour talking about nothing—at least, that's how Beomgyu interprets it. The whole time, Beomgyu can't get Huening Kai's confession out of his head.

I like you.

A few hours after Huening Kai is gone along with all of his patrons, Beomgyu is wiping down the tables.

In a spurt, he throws a chair halfway across the forest clearing. He feels himself on the verge of a breakdown, but he remembers Huening Kai's sweetness and the way he felt all the possibilities of love opening up in front of him. He lets the anger out a bit more, stomping on the grass and even smacking his biggest cauldron into the charred door.

He smells the lingering intelligence potion, and he packs up his own stash. Before he leaves to catch the last subway, he downs an entire vial of calming potion.