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Choosing to ignore the book in his hand, Sehun takes yet another prolonged glance out the train window, watching the greenery of the French countryside roll by. Since leaving Lyon station, there’s been almost nothing but paddocks of grass speckled with farmhouses, aside from the occasional patch of lined trees that Sehun imagines are famous wineries. It’s beautiful, just like one of those foreign indie films, and nothing like he would see back home in Seoul.
But - much like the rest of his trip - Sehun can’t quite lose himself in it like he’d wanted to.
Maybe he had put too much pressure on his big Europe adventure, after spending his whole last year of high school dreaming of drowning in culture and history, of eating delicious food and taking instagramable shots, of meeting strange foreigners and making new friends from all over the globe. What the indie travel movies fail to mention, though, is that most of the time, you just feel lonely.
He’s still got about ten days left, and as much as he’d like to deny it, Sehun knows he’ll spend them in the same way, constantly texting Junmyeon-hyung about how he still feels too chicken to do any of the things he planned, like going out drinking with locals and having wild one-night-stands with sexy Italian men. About how the last summer before following the Oh family path to law school, his last summer, slipping through his fingers.
Sehun turns back Chapter One of his book - yet another thing he’s struggling to get into - the words a blur of dull text, when out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone move next to him.
“Excuse me, sir.” The train steward leans down to eye height, his voice hushed and expression troubled, giving Sehun a bad feeling in his gut already.
Listening to the smooth strands of English that follow, Sehun tries to catch enough words to make sense of what he’s being told, his grip on the language maybe not as strong as he thought when getting straight ‘A’s in school. The word ‘incident’ doesn’t quite ring a bell, but he hears phrases like ‘another carriage’, ‘would it be possible’, and ‘the only free seat left on the train’, his heart filling with dread as the man gestures to the empty spot across from him.
Sehun has to stop his face from scrunching in disgruntlement as he politely nods, and even though Sehun was just thinking about how lonely he feels, this is not the way he wants the universe to fix that.
The steward looks relieved, quickly scuttling past towards the economy carriages, most likely to grab Sehun’s new travel-mate, who had better be quiet-- and not take up too much of his leg room.
But when the steward returns a few minutes later, Sehun instantly knows that’s not going to be likely.
Ducking under the carriage door frame is a scruff of messy, dark brown hair that’s clearly getting in the eyes of this young man, his tall figure dragged down by his giant bag strapped to his back and equally large guitar case being lugged by one hand. His white tank top hangs loosely across his chest, while his ripped jeans cling to his long legs for dear life. A textbook backpacker.
The steward wordlessly shows the man to his new seat, and Sehun tries not to stare too much as he gracelessly flings his bag to the floor with a thud (so much for his leg room) before flopping into the free seat, his round eyes widening as a grin begins to grow on his face.
“So comfortable…” Sehun’s ears prick up when he hears the young man mumble in Korean, his voice deeper than expected. He must have come from economy class, Sehun decides, watching the man look around the first class carriage in awe.
“Is there anything else I can get for either of you?” The steward asks, making Sehun’s new neighbour stop and stare back at him, his smile now fading as his brows furrow in confusion.
“We’re fine, thank you,” Sehun replies, doing all three of them a favour by wrapping this conversation up as fast as possible. The steward finally leaves, and Sehun gives the man one last glance before returning to his book, when he sees his large grin has returned, directed straight towards him -- oh, no, he’s not going to be friendly, is he?
“HeLLO, niCE to mEET yOu!” The man stutters while extending his right hand for a shake, his butchered English sending a wave of cringe through Sehun’s whole body.
“Oh, god--” he blurts out before he can compose himself. “Relax, I’m Korean, you don’t have to speak English.” If you could call it that.
“Oh! Well-- Nice to meet you, then,” Pulling back his ignored hand, Sehun’s neighbour replies in Korean, looking relieved. “I’m Park Chanyeol.”
“Oh Sehun.” He keeps his introduction short, this conversation already much longer than he would have liked, his heart still pounding the same way it always does when he’s forced to meet new people. Sehun drops his gaze back to his neglected page, hoping this Chanyeol will get the message--
“How old are you, Sehun?”
Nevermind.
Before answering, Sehun glaces up to give Chanyeol another look over. His round, bright face, his dimples, and his ears sticking out through his messy hair make him look young, but Sehun can’t help noticing Chanyeol’s muscular form, his chest wide and his thighs quite thick, which makes him seem more mature.
“I’m 20, and you?” Sehun responds hesitantly, but when he sees Chanyeol’s grin widen further, he can already more or less guess his answer.
“I’m 22,” Chanyeol replies, and Sehun has to hold in his sigh. Great, Sehun thinks to himself sarcastically. He’s a hyung. Now if I try to ignore him it’ll seem rude.
Still, Sehun adjusts the paperback in his hands and leans back into his seat, hoping his trainmate will get the message -- but of course he doesn’t.
“So,” Chanyeol starts, his elbows resting on the table between them. “Why Paris?”
“Huh?” Sehun blurts out, only to realise Chanyeol’s talking about the train’s destination. “Oh-- uh, I’m just doing some self-traveling, sightseeing and stuff…”
“Oh, cool! So you’re backpacking, too?”
Sehun feels himself cringe at the term. “No, I wouldn’t really call it that.”
“Then what would you call it?” Chanyeol challenges him, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, first of all, I have proper luggage,” Sehun quips back. “And…”
Thinking back over the last few weeks, Sehun tries to find anything to separate himself from his not-so-flattering image of a backpacker, a broke twenty-something year old, indulging in constant drinking benders with a crowd of friends found from a youth hostel, having too much fun to even notice the famous landmarks of each city before hopping on a rickety bus to the next one. And there is one, big, glaring difference -- aside from the fact he’s also using his dad’s unlimited credit card:
“Backpackers actually enjoy travelling, they make friends and find themselves-- I’m just wandering around Europe, lonely and bored and wasting my last summer before law school starts.”
His confession spills out of his mouth before he can stop it- and the wash of regret and shame is only a second behind, mouth left hanging open with the realization that he just voiced the truth he wasn’t letting himself think- and to a total stranger.
But when he takes a glance over, Chanyeol’s eyes are thoughtful, and for the first time on this trip, Sehun feels like someone might actually be listening to him.
“Wow...” Chanyeol starts, Sehun listening intently, and to his surprise, a grin grows on Chanyeol’s face. “Well, we’ve got to change that!”
“... Huh?” is all Sehun says.
“I’m serious,” Chanyeol states, eyes widened with an almost scary intensity. “I’m going to make it my mission to get you having fun on your trip. Task one, find a travel buddy- complete!” Chanyeol proclaims, pointing to himself with both thumbs.
“Wait- what do you mean?” Sehun splutters out, his brain trying to catch up. “Don’t you have your own holiday to go on? Like, plans and non-refundable accommodation and flights and stuff?”
“That’s no way to travel, man,” Chanyeol brushes off, that cocky edge to his smirk back. “I travel to a city, I busk for a few hours,” he explains, gesturing to his guitar case that’s covered in scratched stickers. “- then I use that money to stay at a hostel, or I make friends with someone at a bar and crash at their place, whatever works. I meet people, make memories, and then when I’m getting bored, I get on another train or bus. Rinse, repeat.”
“That… sounds…” Like the complete opposite of Sehun, he thinks.
But it’s also a lot closer to what he’d intended to do, and when he stops to imagine the two of them doing what Chanyeol described, really living in the moment, it looks exactly like all those indie travel movies Sehun watched as he hyped himself up for his trip.
And maybe this was God, or the Universe, or something giving Sehun one final chance to go on the holiday he dreamed of and psyched himself out of, to just take a leap of faith without knowing where he’ll land for once.
“That sounds… good,” Sehun finally settles on, straightening with renewed confidence. “I’m willing to try it.”
“Attaboy!” Chanyeol exclaims with a fist pounded on the table, Sehun wincing at the thought of the other passengers hearing him. “Hey, we should celebrate-- Oh! Can we order drinks in this fancy part of the train? Man, I’ve always wanted to do this-” Chanyeol rambles on, so easily distracted into pulling a handful of crinkled euros from his pocket, but before he can press them flat, Sehun reaches out a hand to stop him.
“Leave this to me,” he assures.
With finesse, Sehun glances over at the steward, his stare just purposeful enough to grab his attention. As he walks over, Sehun pulls out his wallet and the black card from his back pocket, a thrill sparked in him from the way Chanyeol watches with awe, finally feeling back in control.
“Two of your finest Bourgogne Blancs, s’il-vous-plaît,” Sehun says in his best French, before scanning his card on the promptly-pulled out Eftpos machine.
As the steward walks away, Sehun catches Chanyeol’s incredulous look and gives him a nonchalant shrug.
“My dad let me have full access to his accounts,” he says simply, about to put the card back in his wallet before Chanyeol interrupts him.
“Hey, can I take a look at that?” he wonders.
“Huh? Oh-- Yeah, sure,” Sehun hands it over, remembering that most people probably don’t see the limitless black cards very often, while he’s lucky that his emotionally distant father isn’t financially distant.
Eagerly, Chanyeol takes the cards in his fingers, twisting it around to see how it shines under the sunlight. “Ooohh…”
But Sehun sees Chanyeol’s interest slowly dissipate, left plain confused when the man in front of him starts to stand up and reach towards their window.
“What are… Hey-- Hey!”
He tries to get up in time to stop him, but Chanyeol’s hands work faster than Sehun’s feet as he pushes the window open and hurls the card out into the French countryside.
Left both standing there, Sehun is frozen, the scenery passing by them at the same quick pace as he tries to process what just happened.
“That… that’s… all the money… All of it…” he mutters, slowly slumping back onto the seat.
“No more of daddy’s money!” Chanyeol demands, waving him off. “Trust me, the best traveling happens on a budget! I’ve got enough busking cash to cover us, and when we run out, I’ll just busk some more!”
Speechless, Sehun just stares at the man in front of him, unblinking, at how his entire trip just flipped upside down in only a few minutes. And with all his money now literally out the window, he’s got no choice but to trust Chanyeol.
Panic starts to settle in after the shock, and Sehun wonders why he ever decided to trust this mad man, who’s now leaning back into his seat with a very self-satisfied grin.
The waiter comes by with the drinks, setting them down on the table in front of them, Sehun still too deep in his own turmoil to give a simple “Merci” in reply.
He can only watch on in vague horror as his new partner reaches for a glass.
“Trust me, my dear Sehun,” Chanyeol assures, eyebrows raised high with his white wine. “We’re going to make this the best summer of your life.”