kang daniel

ong seongwoo and i sorta have this.. thing when it comes to chicken wings.

it all started when we had our third 'date' which is held consecutively once every two weeks. considering it as a date might be an overstatement, as we usually only go for a cup of coffee during lunch break or, if we're lucky, a well-served afternoon meal in an intermediate restaurant. either way, i've always enjoyed those tiny bits where i could actually have an hour or so talking to him, before i get back to the reality of working in shifts overnight.

ong and i talk of the usual stuff. strange it would've felt, i don't know how could i be able to connect with someone this fast in a short percentage of time. he would always fill my cup of tea with interesting stories and salty comebacks, where as i just deal with his overheating emotions that seem to never burn out. the more we get together, the more he gets comfortable with the situation, and that's how i realize that he's certainly a better than me when it comes to talking. his choices of words could engage anyone if he wants to, in addition his hilarious jokes that would never get old. this was a sight that i might never get tired of, a completely different side of him than when we met the first time.

i still call him hyung though, gotta keep this along with formality.

i kept my job as a cashier, with ong searching for companies open for audition. he would give me a couple of suggestions and make me choose from them (his expectations are extremely high; he'd go from starship to rbw as if he thinks it's easy to get in to). i fully convinced him that he'd do great at any of the choices, and i wouldn't hesitate a bit to say no if anyone thinks i'm lying.

people don't know how talented ong seongwoo is until you catch the sight of him, wondering how the hell could someone be this beautiful.

i would probably give a big special shoutout for companies who reject him to fuck off.

i didn't have extra shifts for today, and ong planned a lunch for us at the local chicken wings store. ong said that he used to go there with his former girlfriend, and that fact brought curiosity upon my skin as he has never told me about having a girlfriend. that made me start questioning his sexuality, as i assumed he was definitely hitting me off when we first met but turns out my assumptions could be wrong and that all we have here is a friendly, platonic relationship.

that's the worst case scenario that could've happened, scratch that out.

i ain't need that kind of negativity at this kind of a day.

the restaurant was pretty decent, perhaps the best we've had for a date. that didn't surprise me; as broke as ong claimed himself to be, i know that he still holds dignity to himself, and that he wouldn't dare to bring his girlfriend to a shitty place with an affordable price.

what made him feel comfortable of bringing me to somewhere shitty yet affordable?

am i not considered special to that extent—

this unconscious daydreaming needs to stop. it's pointless. and disgusting, if i had to say.

it didn't take long for two plates of chicken wings to appear on our table, served with hot gravy that tasted like heaven. i clearly enjoyed the taste of the chicken, as me myself wouldn't deny the fact that i love eating meat.

ong, though, had a different reaction.

he touched the tip of the 'wing' part of the chicken. "i wonder how could anyone take this part seriously."

"hm?"

"there's just.." ong self-consciously held the wing up high and examined it closely. "nothing here."

i blinked a couple of times. "... i don't see your point."

"my point is; this part of the chicken wing is useless. and hard to eat, that's another thing." he scrunched his nose. "it even has scaly skin, this is not something i'd have on my cooking book."

i sighed. "for god's sake hyung, all you have to do is eat the goddamn chicken."

"yes, i know." ong said softly, his eyes still fixated on the chicken wing. "just a bit of a topsy-turvy."

i had no fucking idea what he just said.

"this is a nice chicken."

he nodded. "the drumsticks are out of this world. the wings, however.."

i stared at him, who kept staring at his plate of chicken wings, and immediately pulled the plate from him so i could exchange the wing part of his with the drumstick part from mine that apparently he liked better.

he just stared at me blankly. i returned his gaze. "what?"

"i didn't ask for that."

"yes, you did. your eyes kept twitching." i tore off a bit of the chicken wing and looked at him straight in the eye. "you could barely get yourself together with the chicken wings, how could you keep it together with your girlfriend every time you visit here?"

"we don't order the chicken."

i stopped eating. "you what?"

"don't order the chicken." he repeated.

"you eat in a chicken wing store but you don't order chicken?"

"we were both in a diet."

i sighed, my reflexes continued on eating. "no wonder you broke up."

ong nodded sheepishly, lowkey agreeing on my statement as he did not argue. "thanks for the drumsticks."

"hmm-hmm."

and that is how we end up going to the exact restaurant every week, with an extra 2 minutes to exchange each other's wings and drumsticks.