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I glance up from my book and scan around my regular cafe. A few old ladies sit in their usual spot near the rear exit with cups of lemony-smelling tea perched in their red-polished nails and quietly laugh as they play Bridge. I can smell their floral perfume from all the way over by the counter. The tall lanky-legged and quite goofy, albeit in a charming way, the cashier is standing behind the counter, his head kept up by his hand and carelessly flipping through a book similar to mine. He notices my gaze and makes eye contact with me, slowly lifting his eyes off the book. At first, you would think he was a very handsome and quiet young man, but right after he smiles you can tell that he’s obviously just a bit mischievous and clumsy. Chanyeol’s-- although he tells me to call him Chan repeatedly-- smile spreads across his face, right up to his big dorky-looking ears. I can’t help but chuckle a little bit as I smile back at the overly excited third grader that is Park Chanyeol, year three.
I often see him in the halls at school, but I almost see him more in this quaint little coffee shop off the main road to our university. Chanyeol’s only a couple of years older than me but acts like he’s in elementary school. Although, he is fun to hang out with.
“Isn’t this book the best?”
I snap my head up once I hear Chanyeol’s voice coming from above me. He holds up the book he was reading, the first one in the series, and smiles, his body leaning down so that he can look me in the eye and his hand resting on the table near mine. I open my mouth to talk about the book some more when the sound of the door opening interrupts me. I turn my head towards the entrance of the cafe.
A tall intimidating, actually quite attractive man walks into the small coffee shop with the chimes jingling behind him. The first thing I notice about him is the single cigarette hanging from his pinkish-red lips and the way his lips pull into a thin line, sending shivers down my spine that seem to send the bad-nervous-y feelings tingling even down to my toes. He has blond pushed-back hair, almost a platinum color, with remnants of brown closer to his roots. He wears a crisp white button-down shirt, matching his nearly alabaster skin, with the few buttons on top popped open, showing more of the skin that stretches over his collarbones which jut out considerably. The man doesn’t have a tie and his black slacks are cut off just above his ankles with his fashionable-looking dress shoes, lacking a single scuff mark, clearly showing. He has his black suit jacket thrown over his shoulder with one of his fingers hooking around the fabric to keep it in place and rolls the cigarette between his teeth around from one side of his mouth to the other, making him look older than Chanyeol by, at least, a couple of years. His eyes sit behind dark sunglasses and his darkened eyebrows look perpetually narrowed into a frown. Once Chanyeol sees him, his eyes widen and he stands up straight, his adam's apple bobbing slightly from his shaky swallow. I wonder… Does Chanyeol know this man?
Small tendrils of wispy smoke whirl from the attractive man’s cigarette as he stalks farther into the cafe, walking over to the counter and bending down to lean on his side against his elbow. He takes another drag of his cigarette, long and deep, letting the smoke blow out of his mouth in one white cloud. He pushes his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and stares at me and Chanyeol with deep brown irised eyes, curling a singular finger to motion one of us closer. His eyes hover over me for a second, but Chanyeol takes no time in scurrying over behind the counter. I turn to look at the old ladies in the corner of the cafe, but it seems like they already left through the door on the side, leaving their mugs of half-drunk tea still with steam wafting up from the brim. I gulp unconsciously and turn back to the man and Chanyeol. The man has already seemed to have been staring at me while Chanyeol shifts nervously on his feet.
“You can’t smoke in here.” I hear Chanyeol speak quietly to the man. I casually scoot my chair closer to the counter and try to listen in on them, thinking Chanyeol must’ve mustered up a lot of courage to ask him to put out his cigarette. I bury my nose in my book, hoping to look like I’m just reading. I sneak a glance out of the corner of my eye. The man hovers his cigarette over Chanyeol’s forearm, while flits of ash fall onto his skin. His arm pulls away reflexly as the man digs the burning end into the counter where Chanyeol’s arm was once resting, brown eyes peeking out from the frames of his black sunglasses.
“Would you like to order something?” Chanyeol’s voice is higher-pitched than normal as he struggles to keep eye contact with him, rubbing his forearm sheepishly. The man chuckles a deep laugh and stands up straight, looming just below Chanyeol’s large frame, but still giving off a more threatening presence.
“You know why I’m here.” Instantly after the sentence leaves his lips, the man drops his smile and returns his frown, running a hand through his platinum-dyed locks. Even with Chanyeol’s plucky attempts of trying to force the man to leave, filled mostly with making himself look much taller than him, the man doesn’t seem to want to comply at all.
“I’m sorry, but you need to buy something or else you’ll have to leave.” Chanyeol tries again and responds a little louder than before, probably having had to push that bold sentence out of his throat. I hear the man sigh loudly and push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose.
“Coffee with lots of cream and sugar.” He responds gruffly and turns on his side, leaning his hip against the counter as Chanyeol scrambles to make the cup of coffee as quickly as possible. I find his choice of drink odd and does not really match his look. I would have guessed that he would order black coffee or espresso; something bitter and more mature with a little bite. I glance back over to the counter to see the man with his glasses slipping down his nose once again and his gaze directed towards my direction. I almost want to believe that he’s looking at someone else, but the deafening silence beside the rhythmic hum of the cafe’s machines reminds me that I have been left alone in this small cafe.
“Here’s your coffee-” He dismisses Chanyeol’s sentence with a wave of his hand and keeps his eyes on me, grabbing at Chanyeol’s uniform collar. He pulls him closer and points to me, Chanyeol’s adam’s apple bobbing once more with another hard swallow. I dig my teeth into my bottom lip and gnaw down on my lip just a bit too hard, trying to distract myself from the feeling of my blood pulsing fast underneath my fingertips that clutch my book-- my grip tightens with anxiety and I now start to regret not leaving with the old ladies, who were most likely scared off by the unfamiliar and mysterious man sporting the cigarette perched between his lips.
“Who’s she?” He speaks in the same gritty voice from before and brings his lips close to Chanyeol’s ear, removing his sunglasses and digging one of the ends into his bottom lip while his blazer hangs from his shoulder without the aid of his hand.
“A regular customer a-and a friend from school.” Chanyeol stutters slightly, his hands resting on the man’s forearm, struggling to get himself out of his powerful-looking grip. The man puts one end of his sunglasses in his button-down shirt, clipping it there. He lets go of Chanyeol easily and gracefully sweeps the red mug of coffee up off the counter in one fell swoop, making his way over towards me with his long strides. A feeling of tingly nervousness crawls all over my skin and makes me squeeze my eyes shut.
“Miss?” His deep voice makes me throw my eyes open and put my book down, feigning that I wasn’t just eavesdropping on everything they were just saying.
“Tell your friend, Chanyeol, that if he wants to continue… Hm, how should I put it for a sweet little thing such as yourself? … to continue drawing breath, he should come down to the dorm very quickly.” The man plasters a polite smile on his face before setting the mug of coffee down in front of me and smoothly putting his sunglasses back on, walking towards the door without another word. Once we hear the jingly noise from the chimes, Chanyeol immediately lets out a breath of relief. I, too, sigh and relax my shoulders until there’s a sharp knock at the large storefront window of the cafe. I look over to see the man knocking on the glass with the back of his hand, his dark blazer now on. When he sees that I noticed him, he waves his hand slightly, the side of his mouth tipping up in an odd kind of smirk. The man departs after this and I immediately stand up to walk over to the counter with an exhausted-looking Chanyeol slumping over the swirling browns of the wood table.
“Hey, Chanyeol, who was that?” I tap on his shoulder impatiently, making him whine and shake his head repeatedly.
“Why did he have to show up today?” He continues to whine, head resting in his hands above the counter, and act childishly until I shake him with both of my hands on his shoulders.
“Hey, earth to Chanyeol! Who the hell was that?” I ask once again with a more demanding voice, snapping in his face. Chanyeol sighs quietly and stands up straight, looking me in the eye.
“A friend… Sehun… who’s part of a very infamous mob… a-and the thing is that I’m also part of their group, but I made a small mistake.” He averts his gaze to his fingers that rest on top of the counter and awkwardly plays with them. I gulp hard as his words sink in. It wasn’t exactly the answer I was looking for… but makes sense in a way.
“Well, how did you get mixed up with them?” Chanyeol doesn’t really seem to be the type to be involved closely with a gang or whatever he called them.
“It just happened…”
After a couple of days passed since I met that Sehun guy or whatever, I went back to the cafe on a day Chanyeol doesn’t work. I sit at my usual spot with my honeydew bubble tea, a book, and the soothing hum of the coffee machines in the background. I lazily sip on my tea, wondering why the old ladies aren’t here when the sound of the door chiming materializes out of the silence. I keep my eyes on my book, re-reading the page I was on since I got a little sidetracked. The day has been rather calm and relaxing, my not having classes today definitely has something to do with it, but when I breathe in the familiar smell of cigarette smoke I know something interesting is certainly going to happen.
Sehun, who’s apparently younger than Chanyeol by a couple of years and the same age as me-- relayed to me by Chanyeol after his shift ended when he would actually answer my myriad of questions-- pulls out the chair next to me and takes a seat. He rests one of his elbows on his table and crosses his long legs, covered in a beige plaid patterned fitted pants, staring at me without his sunglasses this time. I try to continue reading my book, but he quickly grabs it from my hands and tosses it to the other side of the table without a single word or even a greeting. I open my mouth to object, but shut my mouth instantly after that, thinking that it’s best to just stay quiet.
“E-excuse me, sir, there’s no smoking in here.” The man working the cashier today walks over to our table and bows to us, obviously intimidated by Sehun. Sehun glances at the cashier and back at me before removing the cigarette from his lips and hovering the burning end over his forearm, firmly clutched in Sehun’s other hand, just as he did with Chanyeol. I widen my eyes and gasp, Sehun’s gaze back on me in a second. He takes a deep breath and flicks the cigarette onto the ground with an exasperated puff of breath, releasing him, while the frail-looking cashier chases after it.
“So… do you always hang out here alone and just read?” Sehun rests his head on his hand, craning his neck slightly, and fixes his gaze back on me. I try to avoid looking him in the eye and notice a tattoo on his neck that I didn’t see last time he was here; probably because I was scared of him, even right now I’m still rather wary of him. What looks like star constellations, climb up the base of his throat to his left ear; small stars and dots connected with lines and other odd-looking shapes splatter his light-colored skin, mimicking the actual stars and planets. Sehun dips his head down so that I’m looking at his eyes narrowed with annoyance.
“Do you like it?” Sehun’s expression softens with the inquiry and I nod my head in reflex, myself always been amazed by the pretty constellations that shine through the inky black sky.
Among the things that Chanyeol told me, the one thing I remember clearly is that their ‘mafia crime syndicate’, or as he liked to call it, is called EXO, meaning something about being from a different planet and that all of the members have some sort of starry tattoo on them, Chanyeol included. His is located on his right wrist, something so small it’s hard to notice without someone pointing it out, and apparently has many others.
Sehun curls a finger adorned with a silver ring that has a weird symbol on it-- something with swirling winds and other shapes--, similar to when he motioned Chanyeol over. I lean my body closer to his and Sehun turns his neck to the side, tracing his hand up the stars, fingertips brushing against his jawline, until they reach the place behind his ear. I unconsciously smile at the delicate look of the stars decorated against his skin, carefully extending my fingers to follow the line he created with his own. His fingers brush against my own and my breath hitches. I can see a small smile tug on Sehun’s lips, but it’s gone as fast as it showed up, replaced with his lips drawing a thin line.
“Did Chanyeol tell you anything about us?” He clears his throat, leans back in his chair, and adjusts his dark teal pea coat so that it covers his plain black sweater. My hand snaps back to resting on my lap and my cheeks feel a little warm. My eyes linger to the window to see the light trickle of rain streaking down the window and I notice that the shoulders of his pea coat are glistening with small droplets of water. I nod my head at his question slowly, hoping he won’t do something to Chanyeol. Sehun nods in return to mine and stuffs his hands in his pockets, standing up with the clattering of his chair behind him.
“Anyway, just warn Chanyeol that if keeps skipping out on meeting with us that there will be consequences. He can’t leave us that easily.” Sehun waves his hand to me slightly as he leaves, much to the relief of the terrified cashier who has been behind the counter the whole time, shaky hands still grasping the still smoking cigarette.
A few more days pass and with my prodding Chanyeol has finally agreed to “meet up” with them or whatever they wanted him to do. I finally seemed to have shaken loose that Sehun guy and everything has gone back to normal until one night when I heard a sharp knock at my apartment door.
I step over pairs of shoes and other miscellaneous things scattered around my messy apartment and throw the front door open, painting a polite guest-worthy smile on my face. I widen my eyes once I see whose face has greeted me on the other side of the door. Sehun was looking off to the side at first, but brought his eyes down to mine, looming over me as much as Chanyeol would.
“Hey, doll, you need to come with me.” Sehun’s hand reaches for my arm. I back up out of his grasp and furrow my eyebrows, but that’s when I notice it-- Sehun’s lip has a gash in it with dried blood circling the cut and his hands and arms have some red cuts on them too. Blood stains Sehun’s white button-down at the cuffs now rolled up to his elbow, and at his collar-- splattered like he also landed some punches on whoever did this to him. His hair looks out of place and messy, yet he, still, somehow looks strikingly attractive even with the injuries.
“What happened to you? How did you find out where I lived?” I blurt out my questions, noticing that he doesn’t even seem bothered by the injuries at all-- as though he’s only inconvenienced by the gashes and blood staining his otherwise posh clothing. I want to reach my hand out to gently touch his face but decide against it. Sehun looks exasperated and quite frankly tired as he sighs and reaches for my arm once again with his eyes narrowed.
“Just come on. You like Chanyeol, right? Well, he’s in danger. Come on and be quick about it.” My eyes widen when he mentions Chanyeol, but why come get me? I’m sure he has better friends than the girl he talks to at the cafe. Sehun waits for me while I grab a jacket and slip on my shoes, but once I’m at the door again, his hand wraps around my wrist, pulling me out of my apartment and down the stairs.
“Here.” Sehun stops us in front of a black motorcycle and tosses me a helmet, throwing one of his long legs over the seat of the bike. I blink a couple of times, my gaze going back and forth between Sehun and the helmet that sits in both of my hands. Sehun scoffs, turning his head away from mine and resting his forearms on the handlebars.
“What? Are you scared to ride a motorcycle with a mobster, sweetheart?” Sehun’s teasing words leave his lips curled up into a playful smirk. I scoff at his mocking remark and place the helmet on my head, hopping on the bike behind Sehun. I rest my hands on my thighs after I secured the helmet on my head.
“So, where’s your helmet?”
Sehun revs the engine, completely ignoring me, and chuckles wholeheartedly.
“I’d hold on tight, honey.” He chuckles, voice dripping with amusement and a smirk present in his voice, just before we take off in a flurry of wind and speed. A squeaking sound leaves my throat and I throw my hands around his waist with my eyes squeezing shut, huddling my body closer to him as he speeds past the other cars on the road. I’m pretty sure that the bulky helmet on my head is hurting Sehun’s back, but in my fear of impending death by motorcycle accident, I have forgotten to consider his comfort. I’m also pretty sure he is not going the speed limit.
“You can let go now.” Finally, Sehun stops the motorcycle, and lightly taps on my hands, still firmly wrapped around his waist, with a small amused burst of laughter. I widen my eyes and remove them quickly, clearing my throat with heat rising to my cheeks.
“Sorry…” I apologize quietly as I get off the bike and place the helmet on the seat. Sehun gracefully swings his leg off the bike and grabs my hand, tugging me towards the entrance of the warehouse. Now fully aware of his touch, his large hand holding my much smaller one is sending those nervous tingly feelings down my spine. Sehun turns to me and presses a finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet. We venture farther into the warehouse when I start to hear sounds of voices, especially the sound of a deep one similar to Chanyeol’s and Sehun’s, but not entirely theirs.
Sehun leads me to an open room where a lot of people, dressed similarly to Sehun, are standing, or well most. Ten or eleven of them are standing in front of some pretty badly beaten-up guys sprawled out on the ground. I scan the crowd of guys standing, noticing two of them holding up what looks like Chanyeol. I almost call out to him, Sehun’s hand flying to cover my mouth, but if only he was just a few seconds earlier.
The tallest among the group, who’s in the middle, immediately turns his head towards us. He has brownish-blond hair that’s slicked up and seems tousled slightly. He doesn’t have any notable injuries except some red marks on his forearm that holds a small lighter; they look almost like burn marks. He also has a tattoo on his neck, like Sehun, but his are flames. They start from underneath his dress shirt collar and swirl up his neck, curling around his ear that’s pierced at the cartilage with a silver ring inscribed with a small odd shield-like symbol. I also notice that his eyebrows have multiple slits in them and a small silver piercing. Sehun sighs and grabs my hand, forcing me to stand up with him. We walk over to the group of guys, all of them facing us. Chanyeol widens his eyes, surprised to see me here with Sehun.
“So glad you were able to join us. We were just wrapping things up here.” The man with the flames tattoo smirks slightly, his gaze switching between me and Sehun. He grabs one of the guys on the ground by bunching up his shirt collar and flicks the lighter on.
“Now, since you burned me, I’d like to return the favor.” The man chuckles in the face of the frightened man, bringing the lighter to his forearm. I watch as the flame licks up the skin on his arm, making the skin furl and crinkle like paper. I throw my hand over my mouth and try to close my eyes when Sehun covers them with his hand. After hearing a few pained screams and groans, Sehun removes his hand from covering my eyes and stares down at me. I feel Sehun move a piece of my hair behind my ear, the pads of his fingertips brushing against the side of my cheek slightly. I look up at Sehun. He has an expression of genuine concern, his eyes searching mine for some sort of reassurance that I am okay. I nod in response as he cups both of my cheeks with his palms.
“So, what have you two been up to? Sehun has been gone for so long.” I hear another person’s voice and realize that whatever the man with the flames tattoo was doing he’s done with it now. The voice belongs to a man with sandy blond hair, blanched with platinum at the ends, and a small smirk on his face with his eyebrows perched up suggestively. The man’s lips pull back further, revealing a perfect set of celebrity-white teeth, as Sehun hesitates to answer-- his jaw set tightly in place out of, most likely, annoyance with the brash blond. Sehun’s eyebrows dart down into a frown and he hits the other man on his chest before brusquely walking away. The sandy blond feigns a hurt expression and clutches his chest, allowing me to see the tattoos that dot his cream-colored skin. Similar to Sehun’s tattoo, galaxies splatter down his long fingers, clustering around his knuckles, the dark marks dotting his light skin like stars in the night sky. More intricate tattoos are patterned on his forearm, disappearing up his shirt sleeve that’s rolled up to his elbows, but Chanyeol pops into my head, making me tear my eyes off the man with the smirk slowly growing back on his face. I quietly look around for Chanyeol, who’s being held up by two other guys. I quickly run over to him, and my eyes widen with concern. He looks like he got the brunt of the injuries, judging by the bruises under his eye, his bloodied lip, and pieces of red-stained cloth wrapped around various places on his body.
“Chan, are you okay?” I look up at him with concern and rest my hand on his forearm. Chanyeol doesn’t have his dorky smile on his face and has a dark blue blazer thrown about his broad shoulders with a matching black dress shirt, making him, for once, look like he belongs here… like he is actually a gang member and not just the cute cashier at the cafe I hang out in.
“I’m fine. I mean my pride’s a bit wounded, but hearing you call me Chan made me feel a bit better.” Chanyeol has his goofy smile back on his face in no time. Ah, there’s the Chanyeol I know. I chuckle slightly, frankly happy that he’s not close to death, while the two guys holding him up quickly leave his side.
“So, what’s with you and Sehun?” Chanyeol narrows his eyes slightly and balances by himself, but before I can dismiss anything, Sehun comes up behind me.
“Nothing.” He says sternly, his eyebrows darting down to create a frown on his usually inexpressive face. Chanyeol begins to look nervous again and chuckles while Sehun leads me away from him and towards the man with the lighter.
“This is Kris. He’s our leader.”
‘Kris’, the very tall man, plays with the lighter; flicking it on and off, watching the flame dance and spit sparks. He’s squatted down, elbows resting on his knees, while his gaze focuses on the flame. Once he’s satisfied with playing with his newfound toy, he throws it behind him with a crack of the metal landing on the concrete. He stands, stalking his way towards us, and crosses his arms, eyes landing on me. I smile timidly and bow my head to him. He doesn’t return my smile and only nods his head, looking over at Sehun. He walks past us, but not before resting his hand on Sehun’s shoulder and whispering something to him. Kris leaves the room first, the other gang members following behind.
“So, what was all that about?” I say quietly, referring to the whole fight thing that just happened. We both stand next to each other, watching the few stragglers leave the room as well, and Sehun shrugs.
“You know, just the usual. Some guys owed us money from the drugs we sold them and Kris decided to take care of the matter.” He rests a hand on my shoulder, speaking nonchalantly, like he’s said it a million times-- which I’m sure he has-- and starts walking in the direction of the other guys.
“W-wait, what?” I scramble to catch up with Sehun, stumbling over my legs.
And that was the beginning of my long and twisted association with the infamous mafia crime syndicate, EXO.