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"Pick it up... C'mon Yoongi, pick up the phone," Hoseok breathes into the cold night air. It's cold enough that he keeps fidgeting and swaying from side to side where he stands, next to the only working street lamp in his line of sight.
It feels slightly colder out than it's supposed to be in early September, not that Hoseok would know for sure - it's only his second September in Seoul. But he definitely wouldn’t expect it to get as cold as it is at the moment, when he left the house in the afternoon and the sun was beaming with all its might. And that is why he's currently shivering with every breeze that passes between the trees, rustles the grass under his feet, and hits the exposed skin of his arms and legs, all the way from his mid-thighs down to his ankles. Because no, he didn't expect it to get so cold in the span of mere hours and wore a tank top. And short fucking shorts.
He rubs his arms back and forth against his also exposed ribs to get a bit of warmth as he, for maybe the sixth time, dials Yoongi's phone number again, before propping his mobile against one ear. The phone's heated and it feels great against his cheek, warming his cold skin.
"Answer the goddamn call," he whispers again and feels his whole body break into goosebumps when the wind picks up, hitting him from behind. "Fuck."
He jumps where he's standing out of frustration, bouncing up and down on his feet, not sure if it's making him feel a little warmer or a lot colder. Then the dialing tone dies down, once again, without Yoongi answering.
He stands still, then, trying his hardest not to rip out every single hair on his head and decides to think; reevaluate this whole situation.
So, he's outside, standing in the middle of an empty park on the outskirts of Seoul where he's never ever been before, few minutes after 7 pm, completely and irreversably lost. The sun has completely set by now, leaving the city under a dark blue blanket to recyle the last of its light - and Hoseok wouldn't say that he's normally afraid of the dark, but he will admit that he isn't fond of it in this particular scenario, what with being surrounded by huge fucking trees and all.
He's cold and hungry. His nose's running a little -sniffle- and his stomach keeps acting like it's busy working as if there's remotely anything in there to digest.
But all circumstances listed above are very much human happenings. Except for the fact that thanks to some definitely inhuman luck, he's also got no means other than speaking to Yoongi to get out of this mess.
Hoseok's going to punch Yoongi in the dick the second he sees him. Repeatedly.
And why is that? Well it's because he was tricked, by offerings of free food and booze, to visit said soon-to-be-dickless idiot in his new studio and listen to his soon-to-be-released-but-probably-not-if-Hoseok-does-kick-that-idiot-dickless mixtape.
It was all fine and dandy and very much like your regular Wednesday evening when he took the bus to the neighbourhood the idiot-to-soon-be-kicked mentioned.
It was a fairly long road for a local bus ride, and Hoseok had to get off at the last stop, which meant he could sleep on the way there. And sleep he did until the passenger sitting next to him gently woke him up to say that they arrived at the last stop.
It was nice - a most appreciated nap. Until it was over and he was getting off the bus and picking up his mobile from the back pocket of his short shorts.
Fast forward to about an hour later, he's out of mobile data and his offline map thinks he's in flippin' Gwangju -thanks a lot- where he actually was two days ago, and where he wishes he were at the moment, as well.
He doesn't have Yoongi's address written down. He doesn't have the address he's supposed to be visiting written down. It's stupid. He feels stupid because he knows that Yoongi's shared the studio's location with him just hours ago and it's all there on his phone. But it doesn't mean shit when he doesn't have access to the internet, and now would probably sound like a great time to be complaining about how technology is terrible and unreliable and evil and you should never trust it, but Hoseok isn't even mad at his phone or offline map.
He's just mad at himself for walking straight into an abandoned park thinking that he kinda sorta remembers his way from there and getting himself 1) completely lost and 2) far away from the civilization. (He’s also just a little bit mad at Yoongi for neither picking up his calls, nor having shown any signs of worry about the fact that Hoseok's over an hour late now.)
It must also be his inhuman luck's doing that he's completely by himself. Like, is it even possible for a public space to be so deserted at 7 pm? Where are the people? Where are the joggers? The cylists? But then again, he's ended up in such a useless part of this huge park that it kind of make sense that no one's around.
There's no path for cyclists where he is. No playground for children and their parents. It's just trees, a scarce number of street lights, and Hoseok. They don't make great companions, trees and street lights, Hoseok notes. Would've been much appreciated if there was at least a bench where he could sit and curl up - preserve body heat.
He gives his call history one last, bitter look before he navigates to the messaging app. He quickly types one last message: istg if you're sleeping or something rn i'll post your high school pics on twitter for all of your fans to see. With that, he's sent Yoongi a total of 12 messages in the past hour and he doesn't think there's anything else left for him to try anymore.
He pockets the phone, seeing that his battery isn't doing so well, making sure that he has the call volume at highest and vibrations on. For when Yoongi finally returns his calls - if he ever does.
Without his phone to distract him, he can feel that he's been and will probably be sharing very private moments with lots of bugs and possibly some wild animals, too. They could all gang up on him if they wanted to, he thinks, because he's merely a human, an easily-scared one.
Then a thought hits him.
What if... people don't hang out around here much -or more like at all- because it's dangerous or something? What if there are actual wild animals and that's why you can't cycle there? Has Hoseok seen any raccoon or squirrel signs around anywhere?
Maybe it's not even about the animals, maybe it's just a place that shady people tend to hang out after a certain time of the day. Hosoek doesn't know how to feel about the thought of people showing up with this thought in mind. Because he would like to ask his way back to somewhere he can get access to the internet or the crowd, but he would also like to not get stabbed and mugged.
Just as all of these scenarios playing in his head start to drive Hoseok a little frantic and desperate to remember just how the fuck he got where he was -so that he can get the hell back out of this literal gigantic forest- he hears rustling coming from somewhere to his right.
The noises come in regular bursts, steadily getting closer, and that's how Hoseok knows they must be footsteps. He freaks out.
He immediately steps away from the street lamp he's standing under and into the soil patches on the side of the gravel path. He's mostly out of the illuminated circle but is fairly sure that he's still very much visible where he's standing very close to the lamp.
He can't see which direction the stranger's approching from yet, but he should find out soon, because there's only two directions to the path. Except, of course, they're walking on grass, in which case they could even come up behind him honestly.
Hoseok considers his options with the thoughts from a few moments ago clouding his head. He either stands there, ready to defend himself against possible stranger danger or he bolts.
Pros of option one: He gets a good view of what the stranger looks like and has time to judge the book severly by its cover, then decide if he can trust them enough to ask the way back to the bus stop or not. Cons of option one: They turn out to be a murderer and tackle Hoseok to the ground as soon as they see him, taking his life immediately and stealing all of the 55,000 won he's got in his pockets. Maybe they've already seen him and that's why they're coming his way in the first place. Just to do that - as in, kill him.
But that's a lot of scenario writing in his head. And this will most likely not be the case. (Even though there's, like, at least a 50% chance.)
Now, pros of option two: He evades the chance of dying at the hands of a serial killer who dwells in this forest every evening to find his next, lost prey. (He's aware that his theories about the stranger is running wilder by the second and it hasn't even been that many seconds yet, since he heard the first few footsteps - but being ridiculous is actually helping him realize how the bad scenarios are the least likely to happen and it gets him to relax.) Cons of option two: He does a bad job at it, considering he's been standing there like an idiot for too long of a time now, and gets murdered anyway. Or, the stranger turns out to be just a passerby and he makes a fool of himself and the stranger gets away before Hoseok even gets a chance to ask them the way.
A quick overlook at the pros and cons of both options gives him insight that the second one has significantly less murdurous discourse and his body finally springs into action. He looks around and throws himself behind the oldest and biggest tree in his sight, just as the stranger's body appears a few street lamps away.
Hoseok hides himself as well as he can, still cold and shivering, and starts to observe the approaching figure. Going by the clothes, it seems to be someone around his age, possibly taller than Hoseok.
They walk in a moderate pace, but even from far away, Hoseok can clearly make out that every step they take is in fact stomped right on the ground, harsh, kind of unwelcoming. Not friendly at all. Hoseok can't see the face but he's half sure the stranger's making an angsty slash angry face.
Either way, they look intimidating as fuck in dark, in the middle of this fucking jungle. And Hoseok keeps quiet, because he values his existance and well-being, thank you very much. So approaching the stranger is a no-no at this point, but Hoseok can't exactly let his one ticket out of this mess slip between his fingers just like that. He needs to do something.
He thinks far too quickly as he watches the stranger pass by the spot where Hoseok just stood, and he makes a the very ill decision to try following them from afar. Through the park and out into, hopefully, where there are other people around (hopefully, again, nice ones).
The person he’s following is dressed in all black, and carrying a huge case on their back, possibly full of weapons. They're holding a pack of cigarettes in one hand and seem to bare no other possession.
He waits impatiently until the stranger's about six or seven feet ahead of him so that he can both keep them in sight and follow behind with enough space in between for Hoseok to at least have a chance to not get caught. Once the stranger’s two lamps away, Hoseok starts to walk.
He tries his best to not make any noise, to walk slowly and carefully, but turns out it's kind of impossible to be quiet when you're walking on grass and dead -but thankfully not yet dried- leaves.
So he's making noise. But on a level that could just be mistaken for the wind rustling the trees. It's okay, it'll be fine if he just keeps it up: watch where you're going, move behind the trees and bushes, don't go near the lights and do not lose sight of your only ticket out.
He does a great job for about a good thirty feet, following the other without getting caught.
Then he steps on a tree branch.
There’s a split second that Hoseok’s entire beautiful life flashes right before his eyes. The following second, the stranger turns around to check the source of the noise and catches Hoseok in the act of trying to sneak behind a tree.
The guy stumbles backwards a little, but then regains composure as he brings both hands in front of him in a protective way. “What the hell?” he says, looking at Hoseok, confused but also kind of ready to fight, going by his facial expression and general physical demeanour. “How long have you been there?” he spits but then his face sort of brightens a little as if he’s just realized something, “Wait – are you a groupie?”
“What? No,” Hoseok takes a few steps back himself, arms unconsiously winding around his own form and clutching his bare arms tightly to feel somehow shielded. “I’m lost – no, wait, shit, shouldn’t’ve said that – I’m actually perfectly navigated and was just passing by because trees are wonderful and clean air is what I like to smell.” He coughs. “Breathe in, I mean. Not... smell.”
“Are you drunk?” the guy asks, hopeful expression falling and his face incredulous as he probably tries to make sense of the mess of a sentence that Hoseok’s just spewed out of his stupid mouth.
“No,” Hoseok says quickly. In any other setting, he’d be offended; because Drunk Hoseok is an absolute cutie he’s been told, not a blabbering dumbie. In this particular setting though, he just doesn’t want to give the impression that he’s drunk and easy prey. He lowers the knee he’s raised in front of him in surprise after stepping on the branch, straightens his back to stand taller, finally on both feet.
Now, there’s one thing that caught him off-guard as soon as it left the other guy’s mouth, which got him confused but also absolutely set on finding out about. He asks, eyebrows furrowed, lips puckered, “Are you famous?” Because if he is, he can’t afford to be a serial killer, right? Right?
“No,” the guy answers after a second’s pause and shakes his head. “I’m Jungkook.”
“I’m Hoseok,” Hoseok throws back immediately and he honest to god has no idea why he’s disclosing this information to the other party. Gut reactions are scary. But moving on – “Why the hell would you think I’m a groupie?” he asks, head tilting a little in wonder because the other’s previous words and the recent ones don’t add up.
Jungkook looks at him with a sort of desblief that almost seems to be offended for a second. Lips pursed around a few unspoken words. Sputtering without making any sound and throwing a flimsy hand up towards Hoseok, “Why the hell were you following me?”
“I wasn’t!” he half-yells and his voice goes so comedically high that even a five-year-old could tell that he was lying his way right into his own murder scene. “What do you have in that huge bag?” he asks, thinking it would be a good idea to address the elephant in the room: the murder weapon. Maybe Jungkook will freak out seeing that Hoseok’s figured out his grand plan and change his mind about killing him.
“My bass...” Jungkook voices after looking back over his shoulder at the bag for a second, a questioning lilt to his voice.
Hoseok feels his heart give a hopeful thud at the answer. “Not a murder weapon?” he asks, because a bass is typically not a murder weapon, is it? Is it?
And this question seems to throw Jungkook off even more severely, the boy blinking harshly to open his eyes about as wide as they can possibly get. “No?” he states again, voice sounding like now he’s questioning not only Hoseok but also life as a whole. Yet he still seems to consider the idea in his head for a good few seconds. “I mean it could smash a skull, I guess. But I usually use it to make music.”
And Hoseok finds much too quickly that it was too early for him to jump into the Hope Train. “Usually? Oh god, please don’t smash my skull!” he half-yells.
“Why the hell would I do that?!” Jungkook fully yells.
“I don’t know, for following you?” Hoseok says, face scrunched up, voice small.
“So you were following me!” Jungkook exclaims, pointing a finger at him.
At some point during their exchange, somewhere between Hoseok claiming his worries of Jungkook carrying around a murder weapon and Hoseok admitting he’s been following him, Jungkook’s tone and composure, to some degree, seems to have relaxed. And Hoseok definitely doesn’t want to give off the impression that he was a stalker, but he also wants to be two hundred percent sure that he’s not getting murdered tonight. “I had to! ‘Cause I’m lost!” he yells in a definitely pitiful manner. “Please tell me you’re not with the mafia.”
“Dude, chill. I’m just a musician. Besides, no offense, but I could’ve taken you out with my bare fists and not get my guitar dirty.”
“Wow,” Hoseok says dryly, shoulders sagging, “that gets me to chill like nothing else.”
Jungkook starts to giggle, the bags under his eyes creasing further, much more visible now under the streetlight, resulting in his rough image in Hoseok’s eyes to crumble very quickly. “Yeah, my bad,” he addresses the concerns that Hoseok doesn’t even have in him anymore. “How did you get lost, though? New to Seoul?”
“Not exactly,” Hoseok starts, walking closer to the other, now that he doesn’t feel the need to hide behind trees or bushes or keep a safe distance of 10 feet between his body and Jungkook’s. “Just not familiar with this area.”
Jungkook starts to take steps in the direction he was headed to before Hoseok interrupted his stomping. His steps are lighter this time, composure a bit softer and pace slow. Hoseok thinks he can keep up with it, now that he’s calmed down significantly and is not living with his heart trying to claw its way up his throat.
“I’m supposed to visit my friend, was depending on navigation, but once I made it to the neighbourhood I realized my phone’s run out of data,” he explains, sighing and smiling stupidly at the road ahead, all the while Jungkook hums in understanding. “And my friend’s not picking up my calls, so it’d be great if I could just follow you out of the park.”
“Be my guest,” Jungkook says, and tells him that he’s also on his way to meet a friend. “I’d let you use mine,” he continues, pulling his phone out of one pocket to examine something briefly, and adds, coincidentally enough, “but I’m also out of data.”
“So we’re both broke, huh?” Hoseok says, lets out a breathless laugh, because it’s funny but he’s too frustrated and worked up to be truly amused.
“Pretty much, yeah.”
They walk in silence for a good while, passing a few street lamps and many more trees and Hoseok can already see the tops of a few tall buildings in the distance. On one hand, he’s extremely releived, and it’s nice to not feel lost, alone and on the verge of tears. On another hand, though, it doesn’t feel great to realize that he’d panicked so badly over nothing all this time, seeing that he’d find his way soon anyway if he only kept walking.
Once the adrenaline wears off, Hoseok’s reminded again that it’s getting colder every passing minute and he brings his arms back around himself. “When did it get so cold?” he asks, eyeing the way leaves rustle in the wind.
“No clue,” Jungkook answers, “it’s pretty early for this kind of weather, isn’t it?”
“Yup,” Hoseok says, feels a small shiver run through his body, stays silent until it passes in order not to let his voice waver. “Today was such a sunny day, too.”
“This part of the city’s a little higher up,” Jungkook says, “it’s usually colder than the center – wait, shit,” his voice gets a little urgent all of a sudden and Hoseok looks up at him, “you must be cold!”
“Aren’t you?” he asks and tries to catch up as Jungkook picks up pace.
“A little, yeah, but I’m not half-naked,” he says, pointing to himself and then Hoseok. “We should hurry before you catch a cold.”
And that’s how they start power-walking to their destination. Even though Hoseok’s shaking legs hate it in the beginning, it gets better as his body starts to warm up and relax. Not even five minutes into it, Hoseok finds himself stepping on concrete rather than grass or gravel. They’re out of the park. It’s over.
“Oh, these sweet, sweet buildings,” he breathes out, looking around in painful fascination. “I will never walk into another park ever again,” he says, and he means it. This experience scarred him. He will never be the same again.
Jungkook snorts and Hoseok looks at him, clearly offended, “I’m not kidding – I won’t even go anywhere to see that goblin, Yoongi. Ever.”
“Yeah, it does sound like he deserves it, I’ll give you that,” Jungkook says. He’s still smiling like a little shit, but at least has the respect to try and hold it in by pursing his lips until they disappear into a thin line. His face inspires one quarter of affection in Hoseok, and three quarters of desire to push him into the busy traffic.
He doesn’t, of course, the guy saved his life after all.
They stop before a crosswalk, then. They wait patiently for a few seconds for the lights to change and signal them to cross the street. Jungkook lifts one arm and points his fingers in the direction of the other side of the road. “There, we’re going to that little café,” he tells Hoseok. “My friend’s waiting there for me. You can use the free Wi-Fi.”
“Finally,” Hoseok mutters, finally, the suffering ends. He can be a free man again.
Once they walk into the small, self-service coffee shop, some guy who’s dressed very similarly to what Jungkook’s wearing calls “Jungkookie,” loud enough to get their attention. He then gets out of his booth and takes a few steps towards the two.
“Hyung, what’s up?” Jungkook asks, face immediately lighting up. They go for a brief hug as Hoseok lets his body soak in the warmth of the place and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. Civilization sure is great, he thinks.
The two are both back in the booth in no time, Jungkook and his friend, sitting on opposite sides. Hoseok’s still standing there, few feet away, not sure if it would be a good idea to sit next to them or not. Should he just thank Jungkook for saving his poor, lost ass, say goodbye, and go sit somewhere else by himself? Should he speak to the friend at all?
Jungkook, however, gives him no more than half a minute to fall deeper into thought. He looks up at Hoseok after handing his friend the pack of cigarettes he was carrying earlier, and says “This is Hoseok. He was lost and out of mobile data, so I brought him here.”
“Oh,” the friend makes a sour face, “that sounds sucky. Sorry, man.”
“It’s fine,” Hoseok finds himself answering, as his first impression of Jungkook as a scary guy vanishes completely into thin air. His head is clouded with his inner dialogue of both congratulating and shaming himself for being dumb and getting intimidated by a kid.
Following the small room of silence, he quickly proceeds to take his mobile out. He needs to try and get a connection, so that he can free himself from this mess completely. As he fiddles with the phone, he hears Jungkook speaking to his friend about a small gig they’re supposed to play sometime next week. He finds out about their band and some other stuff that his memory doesn’t retain for very long.
He attempts to connect to the Wi-Fi once, twice, check the password written on the huge blackboard next to the door, tries it a third time, but it doesn’t work. Frustrated, he sighs and mumbles curses at the stupid thing. At everything stupid in general, including himself.
“Found the address yet?” Jungkook asks him, after his friend gets up to place an order at the counter.
“It won’t connect,” Hoseok answers.
“Let me take a look at that,” Jungkook says and smoothly grabs the mobile, before Hoseok gets a chance to throw it dramatically across the room like they do in the movies.
Soon, he hands it right back to Hoseok with a chuckle and “Here you go. Saved your life a second time, I guess?”
“Right,” Hoseok says, looking at the thing in disbelief. “Right, thanks for that... and this. Both,” He mutters, feeling extremely awkward for only giving Jungkook a dry thank you for literally saving his life. But what else is there for him to do?
“Anytime,” Jungkook says before Hoseok downloads the offline map and pins Yoongi’s location in there. He then says his goodbye to the pair, who are now sipping on their cold drinks. He waves them goodbye one last time and makes his way out of the coffee shop.
Hoseok arrives to Yoongi’s place to find out that he fell asleep hours ago, after a long night of work. He can’t stay mad at Yoongi for a long time for not checking up on him. He does post a few of Yoongi’s silly high-school pics online to let him know that sacrificing sleep for work isn’t okay, though. Especially not the day before he invites Hoseok over.
He tells him about the events of the past hours, tells him about Jungkook, his saviour and knight in black attire who plays the bass for a small band from Busan.
When Hoseok’s going through his contact list a few days later to write to an old friend, he’s met with a name he doesn’t remember saving in there before. It says:
‘Jungkook - ring when lost’.