sleepless cinderella ☆ l.yy | ✔

02

When you first walked in, you found it disappointingly empty. Maybe somebody would show up, you could wait for a little bit.

You had just sat down on the plush couch when a head popped up from behind the bar, cheery voice accompanying it, "Oh hi!"

Your first instinct was to hurl your laptop at the supposed threat. Thankfully you didn't, it'd be a very expensive weapon. And another thankfully, was that your 'threat' was actually Yangyang, who was giggling as he set a couple sodas on the counter. Probably amused at the jumpscare he had just given you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you there, Y/N," he snickered, picking one of the bottles back up. "Catch."

He tossed it to you then, and you somewhat gracefully caught it in your hand. Your eyes flicked over the label. Dr. Pepper. Diet Dr. Pepper at that. You raised an eyebrow as you watched him crack his own bottle open and chug down half of it in one go.

"I may or may not have a slight addiction," Yangyang said sheepishly, screwing the lid back on before deftly sliding over the bar counter. "So you're back, then. It's been a couple weeks."

"How do you know I haven't come back before?"

He perched on the opposite arm of the couch from the side you were sitting on, "I'm kind of here all the time. I'd have seen you if you'd come before."

"Got it," you acknowledged as the boy knocked back the other half of his soda. "Yangyang, do you... want mine?"

Yangyang looked like he was genuinely considering it, eyeing the bottle still in your hands, "No, you can—"

"I'm fine, I really just want a water, actually. Here—" Your arm had barely been outstretched to offer it to him when he snatched it from your grasp.

"Thanks!"

You nodded to him, standing up from the couch. Once you were sure you were out of his sight behind the bar, you let your face show your internal 'yikes' at his apparent Diet Dr. Pepper addiction. You found one of the minifridges under the bar, thankful that you managed to open the one with bottled water on your first try.

As you took your first few sips, you desperately wracked your brain for what Yangyang's job was. After all, you'd very briefly met seven men and learned all their occupations in just a few minutes. You were lucky that you could remember his name.

Was he the robot builder? No, that guy was such a jerk. The pilot? No, he was also kind of an asshole. Let's think, ah, Ten was the one who rigged the raffle, and he was the doctor. You knew this wasn't Yukhei the model, Dong Sicheng the actor, or your childhood friend Dejun the director, either. Process of elimination... F1 racer!

A foreign F1 racer at that.

Now that could be an interesting article.

"Yangyang," you called out to him.

He spun around to face you, his new bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper already 2/3 gone.

"You're an F1 racer."

"Yep, and other kinds of race cars too. The occasional dirt bike sometimes."

"And you're not from Hong Kong, either."

"Nope. Taiwan, actually. But I'm guessing you're thinking of where I lived before Hong Kong. Germany. Düsseldorf, if you want to be specific. For quite a few years."

You were a little amazed by how much he was just willingly giving you, and couldn't help but pry even further, "So do you speak German?"

"According to my German friends' standards, not very well," Yangyang admitted with a small chuckle. "What about you? Live anywhere besides here?"