The next day, I’m walking through the Parisian streets, which don’t seem to be quite so dismal anymore now that I have made an ally in Nichkhun - and Ji-eun, too. I’ve walked this same road before, the first time I met Khun, but during the daytime with the sky clear and sun shining brightly, it isn’t nearly as daunting as things first appeared to be. Recently the rest of my life has gone like that too; the rain clouds that hung low over my head have been lifted, and I’m even starting to see Paris for what it truly is - a beautiful city.

I’m going to the nearby market, on Rue de Montorgueil. Lined with rows and rows of fresh fruit and vegetable stalls, delicious bakeries in narrow side-roads that shoot off here and there, cheese shops and wineries, it really is a foodie’s paradise. Which is why it is my favourite place in Paris.

Nichkhun introduced me to the market a while back, because he swears down that it is the best place for fresh produce in the whole city. We go there every week to buy things for the restaurant; it’s my favourite day, since not only do I get to see and smell the most amazing food, I get to spend the morning wandering about with Khun at my side.

I smile when I think of him; I really can’t help it. His enthusiasm really springs forth when he’s meandering his way about the tiny stalls packed with food, and when he’s explaining to me about what each ingredient can be used for. I enjoy every moment of being able to listen to him talk - each syllable smoothly rolling off his tongue. It practically makes me blush every time I think of him.

I happen upon the entrance to the market, and standing just within the opening to the long stretch of road beyond is the man that seems to be constantly on my mind. He waves at me eagerly, beckoning me towards him.

That’s when I remember last night. Or more specifically, the man that showed up last night. Not long after he did so, Khun and him entered into quite a heated argument. I stayed in the kitchen until the rowdy drunk stranger had left, and once he had, Nichkhun entered the kitchen. He seemed to be quite riled up, but no matter how much I prompted him to tell me what the matter was, I couldn’t quite get him to open himself to me.

I could only hear a few muffled shouts through the thick wall separating the kitchen from the shop floor, and I couldn’t understand all of it at that - so I missed out on most of the ‘conversation’. One thing I did hear however, kept me awake all night after I got home from the restaurant.

“I’ll never forget what you did to me, Nichkhun!”

My mind was stuck on that sentence all night as I tossed and turned in bed. No matter how I imagined it, it always ended up with Khun as the bad guy - a prospect that I really didn’t want to think about. ‘What you did to me’. What does that even mean…?

I walk towards the man who seems recently to confuse me more often than not, and smile at him. It’s a genuine smile because without any other evidence, I refuse to believe that Khun did anything bad to that guy. People say stupid stuff like that in arguments all the time, unaware of who’s around them to take these things out of proportion.

“Wooyoungie!” He calls, smiling back as if he’s not at all bothered by the confrontation he had faced last night. In fact, he doesn’t look like it has even happened at all, all traces of the sour mood he had now gone. For now, I decide not to dwell on the matter.

I reach his side, and we start to slowly walk down the street - in the middle of the road since it is blocked from cars at both ends and stalls line the pavements anyway. As I stare up at the large multistory buildings that tower above us he turns to me.

“There’s somewhere I want to show you today,” he states, linking his arm with mine. He often does that to people he’s close with; a friendly gesture, it doesn’t mean anything else. Much to my dismay. Rather than walking further down the road to the stalls containing the produce we usually buy, he tugs my arm gently and guides me down a little side road to the left of a bar we’ve been in a few times.

I frown at him in confusion, “What are you doing, Khun? We’ve got to get back to the restaurant soon to open up.” He grins at me and squeezes my arm which is still interlocked with his, causing my stomach to do a few back flips.

For goodness sake compose yourself, Youngie, I tell myself off, as I usually have to whenever Nichkhun gets this close to me, It’s never going to happen!

He nods, but continues to look forwards down the cobbled street we are now walking, “Usually, yes. But I’ve asked Ji-eun to hold the fort for a while - she’s capable enough.”

I let out an, “Ahh, I see,” and we fall into a comfortable silence as I let him drag me down the road. I don’t ask where we are going, since Khun usually likes to surprise me once we get there when he decides to show me somewhere he likes or somewhere that is particularly close to his heart.

We eventually stop in front of a small bakery; it has a charming dark blue front and bright yellow awning with the bakery’s name written on it in old-style font. It appears to only be a tiny place, but it is delightful enough to look at. I take in the sight of the building, and turn to ask Nichkhun why he has brought me here, but before I can formulate my words he interrupts me.

“This is the first place I came when I arrived in Paris - after the hotel, that is.” He looks wistful, a modest smile on his lips as he unhooks my arm and approaches the door. He runs his finger over the wooden frame, as if recollecting past memories that happened here, before taking a hold of the brass handle. It looks like a place that hasn’t changed much in years, and it also looks like Khun hasn’t visited here in years either.

He turns to me, his hand still on the door knob, and summons me closer with a wave, “The oldest bakery in Paris; It’s where I met him.”

I stare at him perplexed for a moment, and as he turns the handle and walks into the shop, it dawns on me. “Oh.” I say, exhaling, unsure of how else to respond.

He must be on about the man from last night, I think as I follow him into the bakery. Once we are inside, we’re enveloped in all kinds of delightful aromas - from the baking of fresh bread inside an unseen oven to fresh strawberries and cherries topping cakes filled in the middle with fluffy whipped cream. If it wasn’t for what Khun had just admitted, I would have been excitedly running over to the sales counter with my wallet already in my hand. For now however, I'm fixed in place by the door, staring at the man in front of me.

Nichkhun stares around at the interior, breathing in sharply and frowning as if it evoked some memories he would have rather forgotten about a long time ago. Noticing his change in demeanor, I approach him and place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“My ex-boyfriend used to work here back when I first arrived from Korea.” He sighs, his eyes fixated on a painting above the cash register of two children playing with a dog on the grass beside the Eiffel tower, “I remember that picture, it was there back then, too.”

Khun rubs his forehead with the palm of his hand, his mind clearly aching from the memories, and his eyes close partially. “I’d decided to do some exploring on my second day here, and it didn’t take long before I found this-” he gestures around him, “-this bakery. He was a baker back then, quite a talented one at that. I was enthralled as soon as I saw him standing behind that counter.”

He lets out a short chuckle, though it isn’t one of humour, and carries on, “I left Korea in quite a shambles, out of touch with my work and the world in general. Much like you, I suppose. But when I met him, he instilled this... faith in me, and taught me to love food again. He gave me hope.”

I gasp at that; it sounds eerily similar to my own situation. All this time I had been working around this fantastic man, and unbeknownst to me he held this sad story within himself. I wondered if even Ji-eun knew about this. I think about myself then, about how Khun had pretty much rescued me from desperation, had faith in me and gave me something to live for. It was eerily similar.

“He broke my heart.” He mumbles, staring down at his own feet, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his padded jacket.

I can’t help myself then, staring at his miserable expression and his eyes which had become so sad; I pull him in towards me, and hug him tightly. My arms wrap securely around his waist, and I feel him hesitate before he wraps his loosely around my smaller torso.

I hear him mumble again, his voice quiet, quivering weakly as he whispers, “Why?” but I just shush him, unable to explain my sudden reaction.

My mind thinks of what I had heard earlier on. ‘What you did to me…’ It echoes over and over again, but I pay it no attention. Right now, I know Nichkhun needs support from those around him, though I don’t know why. It doesn't matter; at least I have half the story now.