Mangwon had a surprising number of specialty stationery stores that made Lia’s eyes light up, and her heart flutter as Cal took her to his favorite spots. There was a small artist’s studio with watercolor prints, handmade pottery, and star-shaped pins. There was another shop that sold exclusively Korean artists’ work, and Lia could have spent days there.
But what set the neighborhood apart was how quiet it was. There were only one or two self-service photo booths, and thepeople Lia saw wandering the streets seemed to be local kids being ferried by the adults in their lives, or families enjoying a meal.
It also meant she and Cal could wander outside with him in a mask and cap, their hands clasped.
“This is nice,” Cal admitted as they were walking toward another shop, his other hand already carrying Lia’s purchases. “Walking and holding hands.”
“You holding all my new stationery.” She giggled. “Honestly Cal, I can carry it.”
“Yes, but I would be a bad boyf–roommate if Ididn’thold your purchases.” She didn't miss the little Freudian slip there. “And your heavy ass tote bag. What is in this?”
“Just the essentials!”
“You’re already wearing a cap, why do you also need the umbrella? And the water jug?”
“A girl needs to stay hydrated! Come on Cal, put those guitar muscles to good use.”
She imagined he’d never had the opportunity to do this before—before Bomseok, there was the year and a half that everyone had been enamored of his very fake relationship with KPop princess Seo Minji for the “Let’s Go Dating” variety show.
God, Lia could make a list of that show’s sweetest moments, her favorite little things that the CalMing Couple had shared between them and the entirety of Korea. The show's premise had been simple—random pairings of celebrities (Cal and Minji, in this case) would go on dates and people were invited to join a group of hosts commenting on the progression of their “relationship.” Siwan had been so good at commenting on what Cal could possibly be thinking at a particular moment that he was there for most of the season.
What had happened was the slowest burn in the show’s long history—she couldn’t even speak banmal with him at first!—but also the one with the biggest payoff, when Cal presented Minji with an entire diary that had a photo from each episode, how he felt with each one. Some pages bore the signatures of other artists and the hosts' notes. It was undeniably sweet and endearing, and there was no faking Minji’s tears as she hugged him goodnight.
It had been alot.And had done wonders for both Cal and Minji’s careers, which had been the point.
“There’s Loser Records,” Cal said, and the excitement in his voice was palpable as they reached a particular corner of the street. He tugged Lia’s hand in the direction of the store. “They serve einspanner coffee here. I learned the word! It’s Vienna-ese.”
“You mean German?”
“It might be enough for you, you coffee snob.”
“Said the man with a LaMarzocco in his house!”
The music shop was lovely. The space was small but almost every corner was filled with something to see—records, merchandise, posters, light sticks. It would feel a lot more cramped if it weren’t for the large windows that looked out into the autumn trees, and the small tables that had a record player or a CD player on them so customers could listen while they had their coffees. There was also a large selection of CDs for sale, some from groups that pre-dated CoBOLT.
Cal was happy to point out some of his favorites. Today Lia learned that he was a huge KST fan, and while he’d grown up with Parokya ni Edgar and Barbie’s Cradle like her, he also had Epik High. Lia could spend hours talking about how she loved the Spice Girls and M2M, how a lot of her teenage music choices were defined by US Teen dramas (she was a One Tree Hill girl, therefore also a Fall Out Boy fan) and Guitar Hero.
“Come to think of it, CoBOLT fit right in,” she noted as she looked at a copy of the Twilight movie soundtrack. Stillsogood.It was fun to browse, but Lia’s heart actually skipped a beat when she spotted a familiar blue cover.
“Hoy!” she exclaimed as Cal swiped the copy ofThunder! LIVEning! CoBOLT!from her hands and held it above his head—aka the place she would never reach vertically. “Gatekeeping your own band?”
“This is a rare album,” he pointed out, and Lia didn’t need him to explain that to her. Of course she knew that already.Thunder! LIVEning! CoBOLT!was the album featuring recordings from their first Asia tour. The band handpicked which version of the song would appear on the album, and they released only a limited number of copies. At the time, Lia couldn’t even afford the bootleg copy of the album, much less an original. “And there’s only one left. This should fall in the hands of a BoLT.”
Lia narrowed her eyes at him. “Track three. Coffee Baby. Recorded in Manila.”
Cal peered up at the back of the album to check. “Yes. And…?”
“I was there. Araneta Coliseum. Lower Box, your left side, third row.” She announced, and the swell of pride in her chest was new and unfamiliar, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. “Sotechnically,and I think this was the point of doing this, I’m part of this album, too.”
“This and every album.” Cal smiled, lowering his hand to give her back the box. “You know I had to fight to have this album made. It was part of my list.”
“Your list?” Lia asked curiously as they walked up to the counter to pay for the CD and order their coffees. The owner’s eyes widened when he looked up at Cal, but seemed to respect that he was wearing a mask and a cap for a reason, and told them their einspanner coffees would be served to them.
“My list.” Cal nodded, sitting across her with a CD player between them. “I wrote it the night before we debuted. A list of the dreams I want to achieve with CoBOLT.”
He hesitated, as if catching himself on something. Whatever it was, Cal seemed to decide to let it go, because he continued to retrieve his wallet, a surprisingly old, worn leather thing crammed with slips of paper, scribbled notes on receipts and bills stashed between credit cards.
In a deep, hidden pocket was a hidden, folded piece of yellow paper. The paper was softened and wrinkled, the creases deepening over time, and the ink fading a bit. Some of the items were crossed out, some items were added in. Cal spread the fragile paper on the table and showed it to her. The crossed items were dreams they had already achieved—debut, music show win, live album, rookie of the year, Asia tour. Easy things.
