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Seokjin wakes up.
There’s a routine to Seokjin’s day, really—he gets up and takes a bath, and tries not to waste too much time on styling his hair. On most days he would usually just cook his own meals, but today is a weekend, and he’s in the mood to go out and eat at the café—the food there was nice, and he’d rather eat amidst the muted conversations of the regulars there rather than let himself be engulfed by the sometimes stifling quiet of his one-room apartment.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like being alone. He appreciates the silence—the calm and the peace of solitude. When he’s alone, he doesn’t have to pretend to be alright when he’s not, and no one will judge him for taking too long in the shower, or admiring himself a lot in the mirror. But sometimes, he also craves the presence of another person in his life, and he gravitates toward the door even when he doesn’t need to go somewhere and could just sleep in, as if his body is yelling at him to get up and hurry on out to find someone important.
He almost forgets to lock the door when he leaves, but he turns on his heel and fishes out his keys from his pocket to lock it before he even gets a foot away. He turns the knob several times to check if it’s really locked before pocketing the keys.
The elevator for the fourth floor of the apartment complex is conveniently near his place, just at the end of the hall, so he spots that the door is open right away even from a distance.
There’s a boy inside, his eyes trained on his phone as he keeps on fiddling with it as if anxiously waiting for a message that he’s not sure he’ll receive.
The elevator doors begin to close, and Seokjin makes a dash for it. There’s only one elevator on his floor, and he’d rather not choose between the alternative options of waiting for the elevator to come up again or taking the stairs instead.
“Wait!” he yelps, and the boy whips his head up, their gazes locking.
The boy’s eyes widen comically, probably surprised that Seokjin is barrelling towards him, and he moves forward to press a button—to keep the doors open, Seokjin hopes—but it’s too late, and the doors close before Seokjin could even reach a hand out to stop the elevator doors from closing.
The led display lights up, telling him that the elevator is heading downstairs, and Seokjin slumps forward, sighing. He’d almost pulled a muscle from running just to keep up, but in the end, he was all too late.
There was a fleeting moment, Seokjin thinks—for when a look of realization dawned upon the boy’s eyes, as if he recognized Seokjin from somewhere. It’s kind of weird because Seokjin’s pretty sure that this is the first time that they’ve seen each other, and yet he gets the feeling that he’s seen the boy somewhere before—like in a dream, maybe, or as a passing face in a crowd. Seoul is pretty big city, after all, and it’s just so easy to forget the people you come across with.
He taps his foot on the floor and waits for the elevator to come up again, hugging himself to keep himself from freezing in the cold November air. If he’d seen the boy from before, then he guesses he would find out soon enough—most of the tenants know each other, and it’s not that hard to find out more about someone here, even if they were new.
Besides, he’d probably see the boy tomorrow again anyway, so dismisses the thought and tries to think about other things—more pressing matters—like how he’d beat Hoseok in a game of Dance Revolution in the arcade during one of what they call their Sunday gaming sessions.
He doesn’t think about the boy for the whole day.
Seokjin’s life is pretty much a routine, but today, he gets a strange sense of déjà vu while turning back on his heel to lock his door.
The keys in his hand jingle, and he stares at it for a moment. Of course the weight of the keys on his hand would be familiar—he’s had it for years. Except when he pockets his keys and turns to walk to the elevator, he’s stuck with the weird feeling that this has happened before.
When he looks up, he sees that the elevator doors at the end of the hall are almost closing, and he runs to catch up.
“Wait!” he yelps, and the boy inside the elevator looks up from staring at his phone to look at Seokjin. The boy blinks, mouth slowly forming into a small ‘o’ in surprise, before he reaches out to the button panel.
There’s a brief moment right when Seokjin’s near the elevator doors that the boy looks up at him, holding Seokjin’s gaze, and there’s something akin to recognition in his eyes. He opens his mouth, looking like he’s about to say something, but then the elevator door closes, and Seokjin’s left feeling confused.
There’s a sense of familiarity with the way the boy regarded him with, but Seokjin doesn’t remember seeing him from before at all. Maybe he was one of Seokjin’s hoobaes back in college? He was quite popular enough in campus for a lot of people to recognize him, after all. Or maybe the boy was a new tenant and one of the ahjummas from their floor already told him about Seokjin?
It’s cold, so Seokjin takes the stairs on his way down instead of dallying by the hallway, hands fisted inside the pockets of his parka. He tries to recall where he’s seen the boy before, but comes up with none.
Still, Seokjin thinks if they’ve ever met before, he’d probably remember where he’s seen the boy. There was this aura to him that tells Seokjin he would be easy to spot even if his hair wasn’t dyed orange, and his soft features is something that stays in Seokjin’s mind. His eyes have something in them that seemed to hold Seokjin down—like memories that he’s seen passing by that only he has a recollection of.
Seokjin tries not to think about the boy—he still has other things he could do today. Besides, he’s probably just overanalyzing things again. Maybe he was just taken aback and thought he knew Seokjin—or maybe Seokjin was really just reading wrongly into things.
But at the end of the day, even when he tries not to think about it, he could still see the tinge of grey from the boy’s sweater and the orange of his hair, even with his eyes closed.
Sometimes Seokjin remembers. But most of the time, he doesn’t.
It’s a Saturday, and Seokjin knows he has the time to slack off a bit before he has to go back to facing reality and work, but he still carries on with his usual morning routine. It seems like a good day to go out, despite the cold, so Seokjin dresses up quickly, throwing on a blue parka to keep himself from the cold before locking the door to his apartment.
He spots a boy standing inside the elevator and fiddling with his phone, and he walks faster, not wanting to waste energy on using the stairs when the elevator was so conveniently placed at the end of the hallway. The boy tucks his phone in his pocket and fixes his sweater a bit before looking up just in time to meet Seokjin’s eyes.
There’s something in the boy’s eyes that seem to hold Seokjin there, and his steps slow down a bit as he tries to recall where he’s seen the boy.
He’s woken out of his reverie when he notices the elevator doors start to close, and he runs to catch up.
Seokjin almost trips when he gets on the elevator, but strong hands wrap around his shoulders to help him steady himself so he doesn’t end up face-first on the floor.
“Thanks,” he says with a huff. He hasn’t ran in a long time, and frankly, although he makes sure to exercise at least three times in a week, the adrenaline pumping in his veins from rushing to the elevator so the doors won’t close on him isn’t really helping with his breathing (and he doesn’t say it, but the way the boy is holding him in his arms seems to remind him of a time long ago, back when he was younger, tired but blissed out from running under the sun)
“No problem.” The boy says, and there’s a ding before the door closes. Seokjin stands up to his full height, eyes stuck on the boy grey sweater, and Seokjin thinks he might be imagining things, but when he looks up at the owner of the voice, he can’t help but stare. He’s seen this person before, he’s pretty sure of it—but he just can’t put his finger on it.
Seokjin moves to stand beside the boy, putting his hands inside the pockets of his parka. “Uhm, hi?” he says, sounding a bit unsure of himself. He clears his throat. “Ah, I mean, hi. Do you live here?”
“Yes, I just moved in yesterday.” The boy seems polite, his speech formal even though Seokjin’s pretty sure the difference in their ages isn’t far off. There’s an accent in his speech and he still looks quite young to be working, so Seokjin assumes that he’s a college freshman that just came from the province. “I go to the university here.”
“A freshman?” Seokjin asks, trying to make light conversation. Since this boy lived in his apartment complex, it wouldn’t hurt to know him well, right? Besides, Seokjin’s still curious to know where he might have seen this boy before.
The boy laughs, the way someone would laugh at something that they’re used to hearing a lot of. His eyes disappear into crescents when he laughs, and he covers his mouth with his hand, and like this, he looks even younger than Seokjin thinks he is. “No, I’m in my third year now. I just moved in because my old landlord raised the rent and I couldn’t afford the place anymore.”
“Ah…” Seokjin nods. “Welcome to the neighbourhood then.” he offers the boy a smile which he hopes is sincere and welcoming. The boy gives him a small smile in return and says “thanks” in a quiet voice, averting his gaze to the closed elevator doors.
There’s a pause for when the conversation dies down, and despite the beginnings of the winter cold starting to seep in, Seokjin feels hot in his parka. He excuses it for the cooling inside the elevator, even when he knows it isn’t because of that, as the tinges of red bloom on his ears.
“Oh, I’m Seokjin, by the way. Kim Seokjin.” He says so suddenly that the boy whips his head around to look at him, surprised. “If you need some help regarding things, you can ask me.”
“Uhm…Okay. Thank you, Seokjin-ssi.” The boy says politely, bowing his head in Seokjin’s direction. “I’m Park Jimin.”
“You can call me hyung.” Seokjin doesn’t know where the sudden boldness is coming from, but blurting that out felt right to him. He felt like couldn’t just settle for this boy calling him Seokjin-ssi and be so distant and detached, when at the edges of his memory, something is starting to form—like a recollection of the past, maybe, where he and this boy are acquainted. He just isn’t sure yet.
The boy—Jimin, Seokjin makes sure he’ll remember it by repeating it several times in his head—looks a bit surprised at that, but he doesn’t comment on it, just gives Seokjin another polite smile back.
Seokjin tries to come up with something—anything—but his thoughts remain blank. He tries to dig around his brain for a topic to bring up just to not let things end like this, but his mind keeps on coming up with scenes where he sees Jimin but doesn’t end up getting on the elevator with him, the ding of the doors as they close sounding like a final declaration of failure rolling over him.
It all felt so real that it had him completely distracted, and he only realizes that the elevator’s already stopped in the first floor when he feels a tap on his shoulder. “Uhm…Seokjin-ssi…Seokjin-hyung? We’re already at the first floor.”
Seokjin shuffles out of the elevator, with Jimin following him until the door. “Err, I’m going to have breakfast at the café nearby. You want to tag along?”
Jimin seems to be genuinely surprised at this—that his new neighbour is inviting him to eat together at a café. Seokjin had thought that it was common courtesy to invite your new neighbour out to eat so that they won’t feel that lonely adjusting to a new place, but he guesses that’s not always the case with a lot of people. And maybe he just wants to talk to Jimin just because he wants to talk to him and not because he doesn’t want Jimin to feel the loneliness that he feels sometimes, just staring out at his window. “Maybe next time, hyung. I still have a few stuff I need to buy for my place.”
“Next time, then.” Seokjin smiles, but he knows it doesn’t fit in his lips quite right.
“Yeah.” Jimin says, a silent promise behind his smile.
“Wait, what was your name again?” The boy hums, looking back at Seokjin with a small smile. “I feel like I’ve seen you before.”
“Seokjin. Kim Seokjin.” Seokjin nods. “And was that a pickup line?”
“Seokjin, right.” The boy grins. “I’ll remember that.”
“Seokjin hyung,” Seokjin corrects. “I’ve already graduated college. You look like you’re still a freshman.”
The boy laughs, the way someone would laugh at something that they’re used to hearing a lot of. “I’m in my third year already, actually.”
The elevator doors open, and the boy steps out. “Bye, Seokjin hyung. See you soon!” he waves with both of his hands. “And that wasn’t a pickup line, by the way. But if you want it to be like that, then it is.” He adds cheekily.
It’s only when he’s disappeared out of the apartment complex’s main door does Seokjin realize that he hasn’t even gotten the boy’s name.
“It’s not like we won’t see each other again,” Seokjin shrugs. There was still tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that…
He didn’t know it at that time, but their meeting, as it seems, is inevitable.
Seokjin finds himself in a kind of compromising position when he ends up tripping as he rushes to catch the elevator just in time before the doors close, strong arms wrapping around his shoulders to support him.
“Careful,” the boy says, breath tickling his neck, and Seokjin has to supress a shiver running down his spine.
“Thanks,” Seokjin says with a huff, and he stands up to his full height to stand beside the boy.
“No problem.” The boy says with a smile on his face, and it looks so familiar that Seokjin finds himself staring.
“Uhm, is there something on my face?” The boy asks, and Seokjin turns to look away, blinking.
“Nothing, it’s just that you looked familiar.”
“Ah, you’ve probably seen me when I moved in. I’m new here.” He grins, and Seokjin thinks that it’s kind of cute how his whole face lights up, eyes disappearing.
“Ah, a new neighbour!” Seokjin says, and he finds that although it didn’t seem easy to strike up a conversation with the boy at first, he was easy to talk to, the awkwardness dissipating behind his kind smiles. “I’m Seokjin, by the way. Kim Seokjin.” He sticks his hand out and the boy takes it with a firm handshake.
“Ah, I’ve heard quite a bit about you from the ahjummas. I’m Park Jimin! Nice to meet you, Seokjin-ssi.” There’s a sudden thrum of energy that flows from Seokjin’s hand, warm and comforting, and the feeling is eerily familiar, yet he couldn’t quite put a finger on it.
“Ah, well. I can’t help it that I’m quite famous.” He says jokingly, and the good-natured laugh that Jimin lets out makes Seokjin feel like he’s accomplished a lot in life in just a single day. “And you should call me hyung.”
“Seokjin hyung?” Jimin tries the words on his mouth, and Seokjin likes the way it sounds coming from him.
“You have a bit of an accent. Are you from Busan?” Seokjin asks, and he notices Jimin glance at their intertwined hands. He hasn’t even noticed that he’s been holding on to Jimin’s hand for longer than necessary, comforted by the feeling of Jimin’s hand fitting snugly in his.
“Oh, sorry.” He says, smiling sheepishly and letting go of Jimin’s hand. His hand suddenly feel empty, and he doesn’t know why, but he gets the sense that he kind of wants to hold Jimin’s hand again sometime, and not let go of it anymore. He makes the excuse of it being cold, but he deep down, he knows it’s not just because of that.
“Ah, it’s that obvious?” Jimin scratches the back of his head, and the action looks so cute that Seokjin has to stop himself from cooing. He liked cute things—puppies, most especially—but Jimin seemed to take the cake. “I’ve been trying to work on that but all I ended up with is mixing my dialect with Seoulite speech.”
“It’s quite cute, actually.” Seokjin finds himself saying, and Jimin ducks his head, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks as he smiles shyly and mumbles a thank you.
“How about you, hyung? Are you originally from around here?”
Seokjin opens his mouth to say his usual answer of “I’m from Anyang,” but something comes up in his mind and he instead says, “No, I was born on an island.”
“Ah, really? Where?”
“Handsome.” Seokjin says, and then, without any preamble, winks.
Jimin bursts out laughing, hand coming up to hold on to Seokjin’s shoulders as his body quakes with laughter. Seokjin realizes that he might like hearing that sound more than he would like to admit. “That pun is so lame, but I can’t believe I’m laughing at it.”
“Can I pass off as a gag master now?” Seokjin grins. Nobody has laughed this much at his jokes, and although his friend, Hoseok finds him funny too, he’s never had a reaction as much as this.
“You could try.” Jimin says, straightening his body now, but his shoulders are still shaking with suppressed laughter.
The elevator doors open with a ding, and Seokjin and Jimin both get off the elevator at the same time, grins still on their faces. Seokjin opens the door leading outside the apartment and shivers in his jacket as he’s hit by the coldness of the November air. He looks back at Jimin, who doesn’t look cold at all in his grey sweater. “Hey, I’m heading to the café nearby. You want to join me?”
Jimin’s eyes flit to the road across, chewing on his bottom lip as he weighs his options in his head. “I’m supposed to go buy some stuff for my place…” he trails off.
“I can go with you after breakfast, if you want.” Seokjin offers, sounding a little too hopeful.
“Really?” Jimin looks genuinely surprised that Seokjin’s offering to go with him when they’ve only just met, but in Seokjin’s head, he reasons out that it’s perfectly okay to offer your new neighbour help.
“Of course. I don’t have much to do today, anyway.” He says, and maybe it was because he was a little too excited, or because he wasn’t thinking right, completely distracted with the way Jimin was grinning at him, but he steps off of the pavement and into the road. It was almost a little too late before he realizes Jimin is pulling him back, eyes wide with surprise.
A taxi whizzes past Seokjin, and he hears Jimin mutter a curse under his breath. “Jesus, hyung, what were you doing?” He asks, squeezing Seokjin’s arm and fussing over him. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Seokjin assures. The taxi wasn’t in any way near him, anyway.
“Maybe I should always be around you.” Jimin shakes his head. “It’s only our first meeting and yet you almost got into an accident.”
“Jimin, you can’t even save yourself from laughing at my jokes even when you keep saying they’re lame.” Seokjin teases, trying to lighten up the mood.
“Well that’s true.” Jimin finally stops fussing over him, and to be honest, Seokjin sort of didn’t want him to stop fussing—he admits he liked the attention.
“But I don’t mind you being around.” Seokjin says, and the shy smile that Jimin returns him with is worth it.
“I was born on an island.” Seokjin says, nodding to himself. He stops shortly, about to take it back because he feels like he might have said the joke to someone before, but Jimin is staring at him expectantly.
“Ah really? Where?” Jimin asks, but before Seokjin could answer, he says, “Oh wait, don’t tell me it’s ‘handsome’”
Seokjin huffs at him disappointedly. “I liked that joke but you just had to ruin it.”
“Wait what, it is?” Jimin looks genuinely surprised at guessing it correctly, and he laughs out loud, his whole body quaking with laughter that he has to latch on to Seokjin to keep himself from falling over. “I had no idea, hyung. I was just guessing.”
“Now the mood is ruined.” Seokjin shakes his head, feigning disappointment and topping it off with a pout. “You have to treat me to breakfast.”
“Okay.” Jimin shrugs.
Seokjin blinks. “Wait, I was just kidding—“
Jimin scratches his ear. “I was planning to, anyway. I mean, you’re the first friend I’ve made here. Aside from the ahjummas.” He quickly adds when Seokjin looked like he was about to correct him. “Because it’s a given that they’d like me—I’m quite a charmer.”
“Funny,” Seokjin wrinkles his nose, but doesn’t contest further. He knows Jimin’s right, after all.
Seokjin has lived in Seoul for a long time that he’s familiar with even the noises of traffic from around here, and yet when he looks across the street to the café that he usually frequents, he can’t help but think that it’s all familiar—it’s all too familiar, that even the people passing by look the same from his dream.
It’s like things are happening all over again.
“It isn’t that far—“Seokjin says distractedly, already stepping off of the pavement. There’s the smell of gasoline and he hears Jimin screaming something, but it’s too late.
Seokjin registers the screeching sound of tires leaving before he even realizes that he’s lying on the road, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut.
Someone moves beside him, and it’s moments of fussing later before Seokjin realizes that it’s Jimin kneeling beside him. “I’m sorry hyung, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in time.”
It hurts all over, and Jimin is blabbering something that Seokjin couldn’t quite decipher. He’s crying, and Seokjin wants to reach out and stroke his cheek and tell him that it’s okay, there’s no need to cry, things will be okay.
But he can’t really move, and his breathing comes out short and ragged, his lungs not functioning the way he wants them to. He tries blinking several times to stay conscious, but he could feel it—a dark veil trying to drape itself over him, tickling at the back of his eyes.
Hyung, hyung, hyung. Jimin keeps saying something, patting his cheek lightly with one hand and cradling his hand with the other. Stay. Please stay. Don’t go.
But Seokjin couldn’t understand—doesn’t understand. Everything is white noise to him, the whole world falling back in a blurry backdrop, and Jimin’s the only anchor that’s keeping him stuck here.
And then…
Seokjin wakes up.