"Are you lost?" Minho heard, in Korean. "Huh?" Minho turned and saw the guy who'd just sung "Juice" a few songs ago next to him. The guy leaned on the bar and smirked at him. He drummed his painted fingernails on the bar, looking Minho up and down. "You looked a little lost up there when you were singing," he clarified. "Hate to see another Korean guy looking confused. But I saw you staring and thought I should say hello." "You're Korean?" Minho exclaimed in surprise and delight. "Wow!"
The guy smoothly grabbed two beers and slid one across the bar to Minho. Minho raised it and they said cheers. He drank politely. The man was watching him curiously over his beer, not saying much. Minho wasn't entirely sure how to read him. Minho drained his glass with a satisfied noise. "How did you know I was Korean?" The guy shrugged. "Had a feeling." "Want another beer?" Minho asked. "Have you lived here long?" Minho's heart swelled with excitement. He could make a friend in this city. Even if the guy was a little odd and standoffish, surely Minho could win him over. He had made friends on every team he'd played on, in every city around the world where he'd ever lived. This guy would be no different.
#wipwednesday in today’s excerpt Minho is trying to figure out if the hot guy at karaoke is friend-shaped