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Seungmin, as often as he tells his friends how little cancelling last-minute arrangements would affect their friendship, is an avid planner first before he is a person.
What’s not on his Google calendar does not exist and his annually-billed reminders app is, predictably, his most treasured asset. The only reason he’d moved from handwritten journals to digital apps was efficiency. He schedules his weekends by the hour, dedicating a few to exercising, more to sharpening his hobbies, less to maintaining professional and personal connections, and the rest to sleep. He reminds people that deliberately blocking their time even for casual drinks is a sign of respect, because no one is ever too busy for anything, it’s all a question of priority. Friends would usually say they agree—only to secretly invite him out a lot less. None of the people he’d gone on dates with have been able to handle his precision when it comes to split bills. "Maybe if they budgeted their expenses they’d understand," he told his mother once. So if one were to ask him, no, people rarely stay in his life.
And if the lifestyle blog he follows says he can only truly know a friend after going on a trip with them, then he’d rather not have any friends at all.
It is, therefore, a calamity, an absolute personal failure, a new incident to top his life’s Most Embarrassing Moments list, when he steps off his taxi and finds that the temple he’s scheduled a time for is closed for renovation. His taxi drives away before he can process his disappointment, leaving him stranded on the side of the road with his mouth agape, eyes furrowed, hands on both of his hips as he condemns himself for not triple-checking the visitor access information (and simultaneously makes a mental note to do so for his remaining attractions). The Bangkok heat is unforgiving too, at half past 9 in the morning no less, as if mocking him for being so, Heaven forbid, disorganised.
He heaves a sigh, turning his back to the sun. That’s when he spots someone standing a few meters away, styled blond hair sticking to his temples and hand pinching his t-shirt to make cooling motions. The man is speaking into his phone and from the sound of it, he seems to be here at the wrong time, too. Seungmin waits until the call finishes before he approaches him.
“Excuse me,” greets Seungmin, making sure he’s not invading the stranger’s personal space. “You didn’t know about the renovation?”
The blond squints at him before his lips curl into a friendly smile. “No, no, I was unaware," he replies in thick Australian accent. Seungmin nods, letting out a small ah. “And you?”
Seungmin chuckles, embarrassed. “Neither was I. I knew I should’ve triple-checked.”
The man widens his eyes slightly, “Trust me, I did,” he says with his eyebrows raised. Seungmin stares at him, appreciative, because he’s never met anyone who’s as thorough as himself. “Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted the hotel receptionist,” he huffs. “I’m Felix, by the way.”
“I’m Seungmin,” he says in return, extending a hand which Felix shakes a little too enthusiastically. “I had a spreadsheet and everything,” Seungmin states quietly, testing the waters. “I thought I had this one in the bag.”
“Wait, you make spreadsheets for your trips?”
“I’d rather die than travel without a colour-coded itinerary.”
“Oh my gosh,” Felix screeches, grinning, putting his phone hurriedly in his pocket. “Me too!”
Seungmin can’t help but mirror the grin. This is why solo trips are fun. “I don’t understand how some people just… don’t.”
“Right? Oh my god, this is so exciting.” Are strangers supposed to be this nice? “You want to have brunch together?”
And maybe it’s the headache-inducing heat, or the mouth-watering bunch of rambutans that Felix is pointing at, but Seungmin thinks there’s no harm in saying yes.
Jisung walks into Seungmin's life many meters above sea level.
“Jameson on the rocks, please,” Seungmin tells the female bartender as he hoists himself up on the bar stool.
“I’ll take this one,” whispers another bartender, suddenly appearing into Seungmin’s peripheral vision. “Hi,” he announces once he’s standing in front of Seungmin. Seungmin gives him a small nod, confused. “Jameson, I got you.”
Seungmin is at an outdoor sky bar, 56 floors up. He read about the beautiful Bangkok night skyline once and wanted to see it for himself—see if he could compare it to Seoul. He’s busy enjoying the view when a glass knocks against his elbow. “Name tag says Peter, but you can call me Jisung,” he hears the bartender say.
Seungmin just smiles. “Hi, Jisung.”
Jisung smiles back, so warm and familiar it startles Seungmin. “You look like you just left a bad job.”
Seungmin’s head snaps up and he looks Jisung in the eye, half worried that he’s being too transparent, half pleased that he doesn’t need to say it for someone to get it. Jisung’s a great staring contest competition. “It was a good job, actually,” is his reply; sprinkling only half the truth in there.
“Paid well, but you hated it.”
“I couldn’t stand by and watch my team defend a client guilty of second-degree murder.”
“Ouch,” Jisung says quietly, understanding, although he's faking a scowl. Seungmin can’t believe it either, but he's laughing at a stranger.
“How’s bartending here?” asks Seungmin, who’s surprised by how genuine he sounds. He’s glad he’s not going to stay sober for much longer.
“Kinda like you,” Jisung replies swiftly. "I get paid by the hour too,” he finishes with a smirk and a glint in his eyes. Seungmin’s heart flutters in his chest, but it might just be the whiskey.
Jisung stares some more, and then:
"You're cute, it's on me," he says in perfect Korean. Seungmin chokes on an ice cube.
Seungmin met Hyunjin at a gay bar on Khaosan road, a little past midnight after one too many bottles, right when the names of the drinks started to blend together in his head and he began to lose track of his bar-hopping route. He had tried to pull up his itinerary, but his hands were wet from God knows what and he hated the feeling of dragging a damp thumb across his phone screen. He doesn’t remember much now, except for how his head felt like it was about to split open and how a guy introduced himself as Hyunjin and Seungmin thinking he’d seen him somewhere.
“Have we met?” Seungmin had asked, words slurred, knowing better than to assume.
“Have we?” Hyunjin retorted, a playful curl in his lips. Seungmin did think about kissing it away.
He vaguely recalls Hyunjin dancing in the middle of a crowd, but this is where Seungmin’s memory fails him, because he can’t seem to make the connection between being captivated by Hyunjin’s sharp movements and having Hyunjin split a Grab car with him at the end of the night. In hindsight, Seungmin may have broken one of his solo travel safety rules.
It’s the next morning at the hotel. Seungmin is taking advantage of his full breakfast package even though his head is still heavy and his mouth dry. He’s taking a bite of his Danish pastry when he sees Hyunjin walk into the restaurant clad in a plain white t-shirt and khaki shorts, looking far too good for a hangover. As if on cue, Hyunjin whips his head in Seungmin’s direction and beams when their eyes meet. Alarmed, Seungmin scrunches his nose and hopes it looks like a smile.
Hyunjin saunters towards his table. “Had a good sleep?”
“I didn’t know you were also staying here,” Seungmin says by way of greeting.
Hyunjin pouts, and Seungmin’s brain screams, what the fuck. “Next time don’t give your hotel information away to strangers, Seungminnie,” he warns, tapping on Seungmin’s arm. “You’re lucky I’m nice.”
Seungmin’s head dips, unsure of how to express his gratitude. Things could’ve gone a lot worse, it’s true. He pulls out the chair on his left for Hyunjin. “Thanks,” he finally manages.
It’s there again, the mega-watt smile. “No worries. And sorry, I’d love to join you, but,” he pauses, patting his back pocket, “I lost my wallet at the bar last night. Gotta ask the receptionist for help.”
Seungmin grimaces. “I’m sorry that happened.”
Hyunjin flicks a hand briskly. “I’ll see you around?” he asks, wishful. “Meet me tonight at 7 in the lobby? I’m hanging out with a few friends.”
Normal, sensible attorney Seungmin would be smarter than to accept a stranger’s invitation, so it’s definitely the leftover alcohol in his system gaining control over his body when he replies with a fervent, “Of course.”
This is how Seungmin finds himself seated a table with Hyunjin, who for some reason knows Jisung, who is somehow friends with Felix.
“Six degrees of separation, yada yada,” is the explanation Jisung provides. Seungmin doesn’t probe any further.
Perplexed, Seungmin asks, “Felix, you’re Korean?” at which Felix laughs, nodding cheerfully, and it reminds Seungmin of his uncle who always has a lot of wisdom to share. Seungmin tells him this, and Felix only responds with, “Yes, but I don’t speak the language very well, sorry." Seungmin wants to say, what are you sorry for, also by the way, my uncle grew up abroad too and his Korean is much worse than yours, but that feels too personal. He continues eyeing his beer bottle instead.
“Let’s go to Phnom Penh!” Hyunjin exclaims out of the blue, eyes big like he just discovered a new element for the periodic table.
“By land?”
“Oh yes,” answers Hyunjin, not missing a beat. “Seungmin can get us a rental car.”
Seungmin narrows his eyes. “Why me?”
“Because you’re the only one with a working international driving license!”
“I am not going to be your sole designated driver,” Seungmin tsks.
“I just need my wallet back, remember.” Hyunjin, Seungmin thinks, needs a new weapon besides pouting. “Then we’ll take turns.”
“Felix isn’t a candidate ‘cause he sucks at driving,” supplies Jisung.
“Yeah I do, actually.”
Hyunjin laughs, and it's unnerving, like he’s channeled all his energy into something hearty and good. “So, Seungmin?”
Seungmin is used to being the quiet presence, away from the spotlight, but under Hyunjin's gaze, he feels like a burning star. “Okay," he hesitates. Hyunjin has that smile on and he feels compelled to continue, “I’ll get the car." Stupid, now he’s just letting the beautiful boy win. Hyunjin has that charm to him, like the only thing he needs to do to catch attention is show up. Seungmin really can't relate.
“But you like exhaustive planning,” Felix offers lightly from where he’s sitting, legs propped up on the table.
“Meeting you three was never part of the plan.”
Hyunjin’s cackle is deafening. “Let’s fucking go, then.”
Over the rest of the night, Seungmin learns that Jisung has a boyfriend back in Seoul named Minho, this is Felix’s first time outside of Australia, and Hyunjin is here on a graduation trip after finishing grad school. It’s a natural progression, falling into their dynamic. Seungmin downs the rest of his Chang in one go.
Jisung manages to get them a cheap 5-seater sedan the next day, using Seungmin’s passport and license. The car is ready by noon, but everyone insists on driving late at night, telling Seungmin to get as much sleep as possible because he’ll be first up in the driver’s seat. Seungmin doesn’t have any strong reason to disagree, really, and he’s been charged for one more full night in the room anyway, might as well make use of the no-refund policy.
He doesn’t question it when he waltzes out of the hotel lobby at midnight and finds the other three waiting for him in the car, Hyunjin moving into the passenger seat as Seungmin approaches closer. Seungmin gives him a puzzled look; Hyunjin pulls out his wallet.
“Congrats on the return of your wallet,” he tells Hyunjin once he’s in the car. Hyunjin flashes him another one of his smiles.
Seungmin, fully aware that chucking away his meticulously planned itinerary will most likely put him in a chaotic mess, is in a good mood.
“Hey, Seungmin,” Jisung calls out groggily from where he’s fallen asleep in the backseat. They’re half an hour away from the border, meaning there’s still about 6 hours of driving ahead of them.
“Hm?” Seungmin hums. The roads are empty, the streetlights are sparse, but the moon is bright above their heads. He sees Jisung shift in the rearview mirror, surprised to learn that Felix is also awake.
“I desperately need to take a piss,” Jisung whimpers, earning a low chuckle from Hyunjin who’s sitting next to Seungmin and Seungmin thought had been asleep. “Can we take a pit stop? Try to find a waterbody so I feel less guilty?”
Obedient, Seungmin decelerates and slowly pulls over next to what looks like a shallow marsh leading to a bigger pond. “Can you open the trunk?” asks Jisung. Seungmin obliges.
Unlocking the door and jumping out of his seat, Jisung chirps, “Just a sec! Sorry boys.” Seungmin can get a glimpse of him rummaging through their trunk from the side mirror, and he thinks he hears a loud thump, but because the other two seem unfazed, he chooses to ignore it.
Not two minutes pass by before Felix and Hyunjin also sit up straight in their seats and simultaneously ask for Seungmin to wait in the car, or if we should just take turns peeing? Seungmin kindly refuses, letting them know he’s okay with waiting until they reach the Cambodian border.
Seungmin watches them go, walk further away, and he waits. And waits. And waits until it’s almost twenty minutes later and there’s still no sign of them. What a lot of people don’t know is that Seungmin has a bad relationship with waiting. Idle waiting doesn’t deserve a space in his calendar, so he steps out of the car and into the night in an attempt to look for the others, only to find that the trunk lid has been left open. When he moves closer, he notices dark blotches all over the side of the car, and the more he focuses on them, the redder they look, and the harder he thinks about it, the more they appear to be… blood?
Time freezes for Seungmin.
“Oh my fucking god.”
“Seungmin,” Hyunjin calls from behind him, sending automatic shivers down his spine. “Don’t panic.”
Seungmin’s shaking by now, losing all senses in his arms and legs. “Who the fuck—”
“—Seungmin—”
“—are you guys?”
The bed of grass rustles under their shoes. The leaves crackle in the wind. “We’re not going to lay a hand on you,” Hyunjin says calmly. “Would you please turn around?”
Seungmin feels nauseous at the lack of choices, and he will deny it tomorrow but all he wants right now is to throw up, badly. Turning around, he grits through his teeth, “Just please tell me you weren’t dumping a dead bo—”
“—hey, we like you a lot,” Jisung interrupts. His face is only partly illuminated by the dim tail lights, and Seungmin hates that this is all happening at night, why did he agree to this, this is precisely the kind of incidents itineraries help to avoid, how the fuck did he get involved with not one, not two, but three real-life murderers—precisely the group of people he meant to cut out from his life when he handed in that resignation letter. “Once we get to Phnom Penh, we’ll leave you alone.”
Hyunjin’s look is that of which Seungmin would use to console a kicked puppy. “Oh, Seungmin…”
“Shut the fuck up, Hyunjin,” Seungmin hisses, bristling. “Get in the car, all of you,” he says as he charges towards the front of the car and throws himself into the driver’s seat, slamming the door closed with the sheer force of a very angry lawyer. “NOW!” he shouts, because this has just turned into a psychological game, and he used to make a living out of bringing people close to tears, so fuck no, he’s not about to lose.
Ramming his foot on the gas pedal, he clears his throat and asks, “You guys are acquaintances? Colleagues? Best friends from killer academy?”
Hyunjin opens his mouth like it’s a practiced move, but loses to Seungmin’s anger. “Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know anything about anything. But, say— were you ever planning on eating me at some point?”
“Seungmin!” Hyunjin shrills, slapping him on his shoulder at the same time as Jisung says, “We don’t eat our allies,” to which Felix quickly follows up with, "We don’t eat, period, Jisung.”
Seungmin’s grip tightens around the wheel, and just to give himself peace of mind, he decides to hit at least one of them in their sore spot. “So, does Minho know about your little murder vacations?"
"Oh," Jisung shrieks, shaking his head violently. “No way in hell, otherwise he will kill me."