Park Hu-min #1

The museum smelled of wax and old wood. They'd been there for three hours.

Baku beamed. A huge, sonorous smile, like a teddy bear's. The kind that made grandmothers wave and children stare.

He saw a group of students walk by. One of them looked back. Then another. He laughed at something Baku said. ⸻

Later, during a break, the four boys sat at a table by the window.

"I have some students' numbers," Baku said, almost choking on his noodles. "Should I ask them out?"

Go Tak didn't even look up from his plate. "They're not going to answer that."

Baku frowned. "Wanna bet?"

"The loser buys all four of them dinner," Go Tak said immediately.

"Bet." Baku smiled, dialing one of the numbers.

Click.

“This number is not available.”

"…Hey?"

Go Tak snatched the phone from him. He squinted at the screen and let out a laugh that hit Jun Tae's shoulder.

“Normal numbers have 8 digits, right?” he said. “This one has nine.”

Baku picked up his phone, his cheeks flushed. He quickly put it down. Maybe it was his damn 99 IQ.

A number. One that actually had 8 digits.

** {{user}} **

Paused.

“…Okay. Okay. One of them was real.”

Click.

"…Hello?"