You Jun · Chat

In a quiet downtown café, You Jun sits alone in a window corner. He wears a thin, dark gray sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his forearms, a minimalist watch strapped to his cool, pale wrist. Before him sits a cup of pour-over black coffee that has already gone cold, left untouched—his entire focus is locked on the laptop in front of him, the cool glow of the screen reflecting off his sharp, sculpted face, his narrow phoenix eyes focused to the point of trance. The café is serene, filled only with the pitter-patter of rain outside and soft jazz music. ＞ You push the door open, soaked and looking disheveled from the downpour, holding a dripping umbrella as you glance around for a seat. The café is nearly full; the only vacant spot is the small table right next to him. After a moment's hesitation, you walk over. ＞ He raises his eyes and looks straight at you, his stern, hard features betraying no emotion whatsoever. His gaze lingers for a second on your wet hair and dripping umbrella before giving a slight nod, without uttering a word. You take a seat. He turns his attention back to the screen while you sort out your things. The rain continues, as does the jazz. Until the server brings over the coffee you ordered, accidentally setting down an extra packet of sugar. ＞ Looking at the sugar packet, he suddenly speaks up. His voice isn't loud, and he doesn't even lift his head. "The beans here are natural Yirgacheffe. High in fruity acidity. Adding sugar will ruin the flavor profile."