Chapter Text
Namjoon was smart. Nobody would doubt that. Mr Shim did not frown when he saw Namjoon’s essay for the scholarship program. Still, he was nervous. He worked hard on this essay and everything should be fine, right? But what happened next proved it was the opposite.
“You know some students are working in the suicide hotline, right?”
He was a psychology major and never interested in students’ activities beside studying. Luckily Hoseok mentioned that he volunteered in the hotline, so Namjoon said yes.
“Why don’t you join them for, let’s say, one month?”
He understood that Mr Shim knew Namjoon was not that good at socializing with people, they didn’t need the EQ test to prove that. As the result didn’t lie, his professor thought he needed help. Or progress. Because Namjoon would not get the scholarship to US with this essay.
“Alright, Mr Shim.”
“You can write a short report first and next month, we will see, okay,”
*
Hoseok was his friend since he entered college. To be honest, Namjoon didn’t understand how people could befriend someone else for a long time. He didn’t keep in touch with his highschool friends. But it was different with Hoseok. The guy had stick with him for two years. His friend was a social butterfly and completed Namjoon introverted behavior.
“You will have a training first.” Hoseok told him. He had volunteered in the hotline for nine months. “It takes two weeks for me. The first three days to one week, they will teach you about the theories, you know. The procedure, the dos and don’ts…”
“Okay,”
They just finished their classes on that day and on their way to the next building. The suicide hotline office was on the 8th floor of F building. “We just call it 8F,” Hoseok said as they walked. “Why don’t we do a little simulation, huh?”
Namjoon agreed. “Hi, I want to die.”
“Oh, you want to be the caller?”
“Of course! I’m totally new at this.”
“Okay. Again, again. Turing ring ring~”
“Turing ring? What kind of phone alert is that?”
“Shut up!”
“Won’t your client just die if you told him to shut up?”
Hoseok elbowed Namjoon’s rib.
“Alright, alright. Turing. Ring. Ring. Answer the phone.”
“Hello, thank you for calling. This is Hoseok, may I know your name?”
“Ye- yeah… I actually ain’t comfortable giving my name to stranger.”
“Okay, who’s your favorite actor?”
“Um, Jung Woosung?”
“I can call you Jung Woosung if you like.”
“No, no, I choose Daniel Kang. Isn’t he hot nowadays?”
“Okay Daniel, thank you for calling-“
“Do you know that Korean actor who played in Walking Dead-“
Hoseok hissed. “People who already set their mind on suicide won’t kid around like you. And if they did, I actually worry about their mental health. Now let me be the caller. Just do what I did earlier.”
“Hello, this is Namjoon. Who is this? Thank you for calling.”
Hoseok didn’t comment on Namjoon’s messy words. “I’m- I’m Hoseok.”
“Hello Hoseok. Uh, how can I help?”
“Can you tell me why I’m alive and not dead?”
Namjoon gulped. “Are you a religious person or a scientific one?”
Hoseok glared at Namjoon. “Are you gonna teach some man about biology, now?”
Namjoon deflated.
When they arrived, people greeted Hoseok and his friends introduced him. The person in charge was Mrs Han, she was a lecturer. There were about fifteen or twenty person in the team, most of them were students like Hoseok and Namjoon.
“Mr Shim already told me that you’ll come,” Mrs Han said. “Anyway I have to let you know, as the title is volunteer, you’re not actually getting paid for it.” She added as she showed him around.
“But we get free food~” Hoseok danced with a slice of pizza between his mouth as he walked passed them.
Mrs Han just laughed.
“I understand,” Namjoon replied. He was getting paid with knowledge. And hopefully, good report that would help him to get the scholarship to Columbia University. And yeah, free food too was fine.
The room was not big, but had enough space for everything. There was a little pantry in a corner, water dispenser and microwave. There were three rows, every row had three to four people as operator.
“We’re working in a shift. Actually we need more people at night, you know how suicide thoughts are… But because most of you are students, well, it’s actually not that hard, you know. Usually they just sleepover here as they’re working on their essay or something. Jimin will take care of the shift,”
Namjoon bowed to Jimin, who stopped typing something on his laptop, and returned the bow to Namjoon.
“Kim Namjoon, nice to meet you.”
“Park Jimin,”
“This is the manual, you can read it first. But be flexible.” Mrs Han explained, handed a white book.
Namjoon received the book and opened it, randomly checking the content.
“And Namjoon,” Mrs Han stopped and looked at him in the eye. “Do you believe in fate?”
Ooh. Deep talks. Namjoon didn’t know how to respond.
Mrs Han smiled. “Sometimes, we can’t always make it, you know? We can’t.”
Namjoon just listened.
“For what I believe, every people had their own life, their own path, their own way. How and when it ends, no one will know. We are like a… media, a thing that help people to prolong their life because it is their choice.”
Namjoon nodded slowly, trying to process everything in his mind. He knew Mrs Han tried to warn him the consequences of working there. It was a matter of people’s life and death.
“So for today, I want you to study the manual. Just ask me if there’s any questions. And if you like, you can learn and watch Hoseok too. Good luck, Namjoon.”
Namjoon bowed to her. “Thank you, Mrs Han.”
*
There weren’t many callers that night and Hoseok didn’t get any.
“The most common case, the caller actually just feel… alone. And they need to talk. A friend.” Hoseok said.
“Once you end the call they will feel lonely again.”
“Yes, it’s true. But they’ll feel better. They will calm down and realize that they’re not alone. Most of time, what they really need is to let out everything. They need someone to listen. And that’s all you have to do. All you have to do is listen.”
“It doesn’t sound hard.”
“It’s not.” Hoseok shrugged. “For example, there was a caller, a woman, who had an abusive husband. She calmed down once she cried it all out. Once she was done, I told her about what help she required, it’s in the manual…” he flipped pages after pages in the white book, until it reached columns of contact number. “There’s an organization that take care of housewife protection, or something like that. We can tell her about this, and then I usually call the organization too to make a follow up call.”
Namjoon nodded slowly. “I want to try.”
“Mrs Han has asked me to be your trainer, by the way.” Hoseok offered his hand. “I hope we can work well, Kim Namjoon.”
Namjoon sighed and shook Hoseok’s hand. “I hope I don’t fuck up.”
*
The shift schedule Namjoon got from Jimin was similar with Hoseok, simply because they shared lots of same classes.
On their third shift, Hoseok received a caller. Namjoon was extremely flustered, but also felt lucky because finally, he had something to write on his report.
“Hello, good evening. Thank you for calling, this is Hoseok.”
The woman was crying on the other side.
Namjoon gulped.
“Hi, may I know your name?” Hoseok said again, a little softly.
“It’s- it’s Yerin,” her voice trembled.
“It’s a beautiful name-“
“He also said that!” Yerin burst.
Namjoon flinched in his seat while Hoseok remained calm.
“I’m so, so tired, you know..?” Yerin sniffed. “I’m so tired making everything works for us. If I die, will he finally take care of me?”
“It’s not worth the try Yerin-sshi,” Hoseok said. “Your life is much more than that. You know it.”
Yerin cried. “Is it..? No matter how much, no matter what, everything I’ve done for him… he never… he’s not…”
“Yerin-sshi,” Hoseok called. “Do you remember what is the reason you- I’m sorry, we’re talking about your boyfriend, right? – do you remember the reason why you date him?”
“He’s my husband…”
Namjoon stopped typing his report and gasped, eyes went to Hoseok. His friend spared him a glance.
“Do you remember why you married him?”
Yerin didn’t answer at first, but then she giggled. Namjoon knew the mood swings were normal in this circumstances, but still, hearing it made him shivered a little.
“Because he asked me. He promised he’d never hurt me. He promised he will always make me smile. He- he…” Yerin cried harder. “He broke his promises…”
“Do you ever talk about this with your husband?”
“I’m not precious enough to waste his time.”
“No, Yerin-sshi, you are. You are his wife, and you deserve to be loved, you deserve the promises he told you.”
Yerin hiccupped. “I feel like an idiot. Why the heck I’m calling this stupid number…” she mumbled.
Hoseok hummed a smile. “I’m glad you call. I’m happy you want to talk about this with me. Please try to talk to your husband, just like this.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Anything else I can help you with?”
“Can you please… don’t tell anyone I’m calling?”
“Of course not.”
“Thank you.” Yeri’s voice was small, Namjoon guessed it was from the embarrassment. “Goodbye.” She disconnected the call.
After Namjoon was sure the call was done, he took a deep sigh. “So many tension,”
“Like a bad, romance drama, yeah,” Hoseok shrugged. “But, you see, all you have to do is just listen and talk to them, just like a friend.”
“I’m not good at being a friend,” Namjoon frowned. “You’re really good, though.”
Hoseok bit his lip. “I’ve received a similar call, you know. From a housewife. It was just like that, the husband became too busy, or maybe had a mistress. And then she asked me, if I think he was still in love with her.”
Namjoon blinked. It was a question nobody could answer. “And what do you think?”
“I don’t know, you know. I don’t know their life, their history, how can I answer that?”
“So what did you say?”
“I asked her back, what do your feelings tell you?”
Namjoon raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
“She said no.”
“Fuck.”
“Indeed.”
Namjoon closed his eyes. “Fuck, Seok-ah. I’m not good being a friend, and even romance? I cannot play that shit.”
“I know,” Hoseok patted Namjoon’s thigh. “I’m nervous for you too.”
*
On the next day, Namjoon had a class in the morning, and the second one would start at 4pm. So Jimin filled his free time with an afternoon shift.
The room was rather empty. Mrs Han was talking with a girl in her room, discussing some reports. He said hi to Jimin, who was at his usual spot.
“So… it’s just me?” Namjoon asked.
“Seulgi should be done with the meeting soon,” Jimin said, eyed Mrs Han’s room. “Don’t worry, no one would call at this hour.”
“Really?”
“No. Very little possibility.” Jimin shrugged.
“Ah. Okay,” Namjoon went to his seat.
Jimin was right. No one would call the hotline at the busiest lunch time. So Namjoon took out his laptop and started to do some of his assignment-
The phone rang.
Fuck. What should he do? Namjoon was confused, looking right and left, searching for help.
Jimin stood up from his seat and went to Namjoon’s seat. “Just answer it,”
Namjoon cursed under his breath as he calmed himself. Fuck you Jimin, you said no one would call! Oh wait, he did say that very little possibility. Very little. Why is this happening to me? “Hello, good morning. How can I help you?”
It was half past 12, not morning anymore. Namjoon was upset at that mistake, but he might face bigger problem so there was no time to scold himself.
“Hi! Uh, wait, wait a sec-“
Namjoon’s brows furrowed. It was clearly a girl’s voice, but she sounded too cheerful for someone who was calling a suicide hotline. Jimin was right beside him, knew Namjoon would need some help.
And Namjoon waited. Because the girl told her to. But a long, forty seconds had passed, even Jimin was impatient. He nudged Namjoon, raising his eyebrows.
Namjoon mouthed an ‘I don’t know’ but then-
“Yeah, hello?”
“Hello. Welcome back,” Namjoon wanted to slap himself. What was that welcome back for? Because he was glad she was coming back, not killing herself and be gone. Right. “So how can I help you?”
“Yes. I want to ask. If I use the coupon, can I still get the discount for the credit card promo?”
Namjoon stilled. “…what?”
“Yeah, so I have this coupon for the cheese pizza plus drink, but there’s discount for my credit card-“
“I’m sorry, uh- may I know your name?”
“Park Seungyeon.”
“Seungyeon-sshi, I think you’re mistaken. We’re- we’re not selling service with coupon or discount. We’re not the pizza restaurant you’re calling,” Namjoon rolled his eyes to Jimin, who just scoffed.
“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry! Gosh, I must be sooo hungry,” Seungyeon said, whining a little.
“Yeah…” Namjoon leaned back, sighing in half relief half frustration, and Jimin went back to his seat.
*
“I don’t know what to say. I cannot say I hate it because I’m sure I’m not ready to face real case, you know!” Namjoon ranted to Hoseok that night. He was going home for the weekend while his friend stayed at the dorm.
Hoseok just laughed.
“And just when I about to go, there was another caller. She fucking asked my name because she liked my voice, okay! I knew, I knew she did not have any intention for suicide, but probably just calling random numbers because she was bored, or maybe lonely,”
“Yeah, it happened to Hwanhee Hyung too before, you know? His case was more… vulgar, I think,”
“Fuck… maybe I should be just… grateful, I think? I won’t know what to do if it was a real caller.” Namjoon sighed.
As he walked, his eyes caught a shadow, in the edge of the bridge over the river. A tall silhouette.
“…and Mrs Han was there, right? So you don’t have to worry…”
Namjoon couldn’t paid any attention on what Hoseok just said. He walked closer to that figure, who was climbing over the railings- “Fuck!” he ran.
Was that man going to jump off the bridge? Was he going to… suicide?
“Hoseok-ah! Hoseok-ah!” Namjoon kept calling his name as he ran towards the man. One of his earplugs fell off his left ear but he couldn’t care.
“What what?” Hoseok was also panicking.
“I think someone’s gonna jump off the bridge-“
“What?!”
Namjoon came right in time, the man already had both of his feet on the top of the railings, if he slipped, he would fall. “No!” he quickly held the man’s legs, pulled him back and they both fell backwards.
“Go away! Go away! I just want to die!” the man was yelling hysterically as he pushed Namjoon away.
“No, please don’t! Don’t do this!” Namjoon caught his hand and held it.
“Tell him to take a breath! Tell him to breathe!” Hoseok was hysterical in his ear.
It was amazing how his high pitched voice could enter Namjoon’s senses as his mind was pretty one tracked that time. “Calm down, take a breath… take a breath…”
“Let go of me!” the man couldn’t stay still, kept pushing Namjoon away.
“Give him some space but don’t let him jump,” Hoseok said to his ear.
“Alright, alright,” Namjoon let go of the man’s hands. He took a step back, but readied himself to catch the man in case he would run.
The man was still on the ground. He was wearing all black; black jeans, black jacket, black mask. His hoodie covered his hair and forehead. In the dark night with poor lighting of the bridge, Namjoon could only see small reflection of his eyes.
Hoseok’s voice filled his ear. “Is he still there? What is he doing? Does he-“
The man covered his face with his palm, and cried, his bawl muffled by his hands.
“A hug helps,” Hoseok said, heard the cried as well.
Namjoon gulped, slowly went closer to the man, and put his hand on his back as he kneeled beside him. When the man didn’t shrug away, Namjoon wrapped his arms around his shoulder.
“I’m such a loser, I’m not even brave enough to die…” he cried to Namjoon’s shoulder.
“You are braver than that because you’re staying alive,” Namjoon rubbed his back gently.
“I’m not brave enough to live…”
“You are. You are strong. You have gone this far, you can go further,”
The man was shaking and Namjoon hugged him tighter.
“I’m tired, I’m so tired…” he mumbled, his cried had slowed down but still hiccupping. “I’m so tired being not good enough. I’m sick of people using me. I’m sick of this life, I’m sick of this world…”
“People suck. But there are many wonderful things in this world. Think about the first snow. The first leaf that falls in autumn. The flower that blooms during spring. The watermelon in summer-“
“I love watermelon,” he mumbled to Namjoon’s chest.
“Me too.” Namjoon smiled. He wondered if the man had felt better. “We still have a long journey to find people who’s not suck,” so please don’t die yet, he wanted to say. But on second thought, Namjoon knew he shouldn’t talk about death in that sensitive situation.
They stayed in silence for quite some time, and Namjoon thought if the man was unconscious or fell asleep, so he slowly pulled back from the hug, checking up on him.
The man’s mask slipped open, hung on his right ear, and fuck, he was handsome.
Even in that minimum amount of light, Namjoon could figure how gorgeous the man was. His hair was messy, but his eyebrows were perfect, and his eyes were like a calm lake that could drown him. His straight nose was the perfect size for his small face. And those lips… just luscious. Full and red. And Namjoon could not understand why this man would commit suicide.
The man blinked at him.
“Uh- um, I’m sorry,” Namjoon looked away, understood that his stare would make him uncomfortable. “You’re- you- you’re gorgeous.” He stuttered. Namjoon cursed inside, for letting his mouth to speak up and for stuttering. God knew how idiotic he was.
The man leaned away from Namjoon.
“Uh, are you okay? Are you hurt-” Namjoon just remembered. He didn’t know how to call him. He didn’t know his name. “Sorry I forget to ask your name before.”
The man eyed him.
“Uh, I’m Namjoon.” Namjoon was a little nervous with those eyes on him. “Kim Namjoon,” he offered his hand.
“…you don’t know my name,” he stated.
Namjoon bit his lip. Right, right! Everytime Hoseok gave him an example, he always giving his name and asking the caller’s name. Name is important, Namjoon! “S- sorry. I know it was rude to… and, and I kinda hit you hard before…”
“I’m fine,” the man stood up and got rid of the dust on his jeans.
Namjoon stood up as well.
“I’m… Seokjin. Kim Seokjin.”
“Ah, you’re a Kim-sshi too,”
Seokjin looked at him suspiciously.
“Can you walk? I- I don’t mean to underestimate, but I believe I tackled your ankles when- forget it. Your legs okay? Do you want me to take you home? I- I don’t mean to be creepy but-”
Seokjin’s lips twitched. “Okay.”
“Okay…?”
“My legs okay. You can take me home.”
“Okay.” Namjoon was a little dumbfounded. “Okay. Alright.”
Namjoon waited as Seokjin pulled up his hoodie and wore his mask, then letting the man led the way. Seokjin was almost as tall as him, with broad shoulders and thin figure. Namjoon totally thought he could be a model.
He actually was.