Azalea

She said we were just friends, which I guess made sense because we only went out a few times and we weren't dating, not really, but I liked to think we were more than that. Maybe not. I sighed and looked down at the files on my desk. I made a face, scratching the back of my head.

It'd been an entire week and I'd been feeling strange. Azalea and I were fine, but we weren't, and I couldn't figure out why. It was a Sunday, and some of the guys - okay, just Tae and Jinki - were coming over for drinks. We didn't run tours on Sundays - Pedro did - so it was just Jinki, Willow, and me. Rooney had the day off. Jinki turned around, humming happily and chewing some gum.

"So...?" Jinki wriggled his eyebrows at me. "How was your day yesterday?" I raised an eyebrow. "Jenny told me about how somebody went home with his girl!" He giggled. "So, how was it?"

"None of your business."

"Ouch. Someone's in a mood. Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure you're fine?"

"Yes." I shut the folder, letting my head fall onto my desk. "I'm just tired."

"Did something happen yesterday?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Key." I glanced at him, frowning. "What? I'm trying to help you." I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair and my bag, shaking my head.

"I think I'm going home. I'm finally done for the day. I'll talk to you later."

"Still on for tonight, then?" I nodded.

"Are you going to bring Jenny?" He frowned. "It's guys night. Not guys and Jenny night."

"But - "

"No buts. I know that you really like her and you think her boobs are like the greatest things ever, but I would rather it just be all of us."

"Fine. But she's going to be really disappointed."

"I'm pretty sure she'll get over it." I shrugged. "So, I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, waving me off. "Party pooper."

I walked to my apartment since it was so nice outside and picked up some drinks from the liquor store on my way. The guys were all bringing drinks, so it was fine. I whistled as I walked to my door, but stopped short when I saw someone standing in front of it, playing with their phone.

"Um, hey there," I said slowly, frowning. "Can I help you?"

"Are you Kibum?" I frowned even more, making a face.

"I may be. Who are you?" He smiled brightly, laughing.

"Didn't Minho tell you about me?" I ignored most of Minho's phone calls and let them go to voicemail because he always called me about something stupid. "I'm Jonghyun, a friend of his."

"Oh, that's... interesting," I say, making a small face. "Do you want to come in?"

As we talk, I realize that Minho has done what he's done his whole life - assume that people will go along with his plans willingly because he's the world's worst cousin ever. Apparently, he told this poor, unsuspecting tourist that he had a great cousin in New York (me) and that his cousin would totally not mind renting out a room to him.

It wasn't that I didn't want a room mate. I just didn't see the need for one. I was a creature of habit and I liked doing my own thing. And yes, I had a guest room - for when I had visitors, like my parents or friends from college that were passing through. I wanted to say no, because I didn't even know him (what if he was some crazy serial killer or something?) but he looked so lost and sincere that I simply couldn't.

He didn't have all that much - just a suitcase and a duffel bag, that's about it. At least he was mildly low-maintance. And he seemed pretty funny. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.