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Jimin slowly inhales with his eyes closed, pausing to count to three, before he slowly exhales and opens his eyes. In front of him is a somewhat large gathering of people, though nothing he isn’t used to. Most of them sit at tables with others, chatting in low voices and sipping their drinks, while some have quieted down, waiting. Jimin offers a small smile at the few people that meet his eye, and most are kind enough to smile back.
He hears the band behind him give their cue, and Jimin knows that it’s time. He takes one last long breath before the music starts, and instantly he’s absorbed in the tune with the first chords. He closes his eyes, the audience in front of him no longer on his mind, all thoughts gone but the music. When it’s finally time for him to sing, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Swayed by the music, becoming the music; his voice completing the melody of the song. In that very moment, the song is the only thing that matters, and Jimin enjoys it with all his being.
It had only been a few months since Jimin had started participating at Serendipity’s open mic night, but it had become one of his most favorite things to do at the moment in his life. Jimin had always enjoyed singing, and he knew he was good at it too, but he was always too shy to perform for an audience. So he resorted to singing for himself, humming along to songs in the background, or breaking out into a dramatic performance of something that had been stuck in his head for his closest friends.
At least, that was until the night that he, Hobi and Joon decided to check out this one particular jazz club Hobi’s friend had recommended, and it just so happened that the night they visited was one of their open mic nights as well. Hobi and Joon had insisted he go up on the stage.
“But hyungs!” he tried to protest, “you guys are both more musically talented than me, shouldn’t you be going up there instead?”
“Are you kidding me Jimin? We may be studying music but in no way does that mean we’d be able to sing the way you do,” Hobi exclaims in a very matter-of-fact tone. “Besides, your voice? It’s so sweet and a little sultry and just perfect for a jazz performance in a place like this!” Jimin blushes at the compliment but tries to hide it. He doesn’t think he can fully believe it, but it gives him a little more confidence.
Namjoon smiles and nods in agreement. “Yeah Jimin. If this were a rap battle that would of course be different. But you like jazz! I’ve heard you sing jazz too, this’ll be great! The audience needs to hear it Jimin.”
Jimin’s not sure the audience needs to hear anything at all. He pouts and tries to protest further, but Hobi’s pout seems to be bigger, and eventually Jimin gives in to his pleading puppy eyes and begrudgingly treads over to the stage where a smiling woman greets him at the foot of the steps. She has a list of songs that anyone would be able to choose from for the night and Jimin instantly recognizes one of his favorites, feeling comfortable at knowing the tune and the lyrics. He’s incredibly nervous as he steps on the stage, offering a shy smile to the jazz band behind him getting ready to play the song he chose. He feels his hands going cold yet his palms are sweating. He can’t look at anyone in the audience and immediately regrets his decision. Curse Hobi and Namjoon. At the thought of them, he looks up and spots them in the crowd. They were not too close but not too far either, and were smiling and waving at him, trying to cheer him on. He smiles, and closes his eyes. Breathes in, then out. And then the music starts. And he’s suddenly in another world.
Ever since that night, Jimin had realized, more than ever, how much he loved singing, and how much he loved singing as a performance. And though the nervousness of performing in front of a crowd never truly went away (for it always came back whenever he went back up on the stage), it was worth it for the almost intoxicating feeling of being absorbed in the song, letting the world slip away even if for just a few minutes, and of course, the cheers and praises he would receive for his performance afterwards. Ever since the first night, his performance would always receive the biggest applause and the loudest cheers. Random strangers would come up to him and tell him how beautifully he sings, how moved they were by his voice. Jimin always tried his best to discreetly hide his blush, but he couldn’t deny that he loved it. Soon Jimin found himself coming back to club, and not just on the open mic nights. He had become a regular, being friendly and familiar with the staff and the jazz band who always greeted him like he was their friend. Sometimes he’d come with his friends and sometimes he’d come alone. It had become one of his favorite places to relax, away from the responsibilities of grad school, away from the responsibilities of being an adult. When Jimin had first moved to New York, he was rather shy and nervous to live in such a big and crowded city, but with good close friends that he quickly made, and the jazz club they discovered together in their first semester, Jimin had come to feel at home quicker than he had ever anticipated.
And now, as he stands up on the stage again singing yet another song, he smiles. He’s happy.
He had come to the club alone tonight. He had been looking forward to it all week, as the past few had been overly stressful with assignments. He originally planned to come with his friends, but Hobi had already planned a date night with Yoongi, and Namjoon had an important exam on Monday which he simply could not stop studying for, understandably so. So Jimin took the subway alone, listening to the song he was going to perform on his headphones the whole way there, the bartender greeting him cheerfully as he walks in.
And now that he’s here, standing on the stage, close to the end of the song, he feels all the stress of the past few weeks melt away, relief washing over him instead.
The song he’s singing tonight ends with his voice. The band slowly fades out the music, and Jimin listens, waiting for the right beat, before he sweetly sings out the last notes, the last few lyrics. And after a pause of silence, he opens his eyes, and as expected, the crowd cheers. The applause almost deafens his ears and a few people whistle here and there. Jimin can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. He bows, and then bows again, before he’s standing up straight to look at the crowd from the stage one last time, his expression beaming. His eyes slowly sweep across the room, from left to right. It’s something he loves to do right before he gets off the stage, to see the smiling faces of everyone in the room, smiling because of him. His eyes finally reach the very right side of the room, quickly scanning the faces of everyone sitting at the bar, when his eyes land on a familiar looking face. It takes Jimin a few seconds to register, and then he freezes.
Suddenly, it’s as if the past few moments of euphoria never existed. Suddenly, all the muscles in his body tense up. Suddenly, Jimin feels cold, the smile on his face faltering as slight panic overtakes the pure joy he had been feeling just a mere few seconds ago and his breathing becomes shallow. Jimin never thought he would see him here, in his happy place. Jimin never thought he would see him again, anywhere. And yet here he was.
Kim Taehyung.
Jimin stares, unable to look away, and Taehyung stares back at him with an expression Jimin is unable to read. It felt to Jimin as if the world around them paused, and it was just him and Taehyung, staring at each other as the only two people in the room, as if some cliché movie. After what seems to be an eternity, the sudden sound of the band behind him breaks his trance. Tearing his gaze away from the man he wished to no longer see, Jimin offers a strained smile to the audience in front of him before he makes it for the exit.
“Jimin-ah, you were amazing tonight! Hey, are you okay?” one of the band members, Wooshik, tries to stop him. Normally, Jimin might have hung around for another hour or so, chatting with the band members during their break, watching and listening to the other performers of the night, or maybe even flirting with some cute guy who’d buy him a drink. But not tonight. Tonight, Jimin would have to forget.
“Oh, thank you as always Wooshik! I’m okay. I just remembered I had something else to do for tonight so I’ll head out right now,” Jimin says rather cheerily and flashes a smile, which he thinks is enough to convey his words. Wooshik looks at him unconvinced but decides to just shrug, and bids him farewell for the night.
Jimin hurries down the steps of the bar, located on the second story of a brick building, without pausing to look back. He doesn’t know why he’s running away so frantically, doesn’t know if there should be any reason to. He’s reconciled with his past long back; he had convinced himself he had. But something about seeing Taehyung here, in his space safe, so suddenly and unexpected and in all his glory, triggered Jimin’s flight of fight response and Jimin, never really opting for confrontation if flight was an option, bolted without a second thought. He hurries down the rather empty street, small piles of snow clustered on the sides of the pavement. He realizes now as he shivers in the cold, walking faster while hugging himself to keep as warm as possible, that he left his coat in the club. He hopes one of his acquaintances will recognize it as his and keep it till he can go back to retrieve it. He’d chosen to wear a rather expensive one that night.
Jimin reaches his apartment sooner than usual, much to his relief. He hastily unlocks the door and enters the warmth of his room, immediately kicks off his shoes, turns on the heater, and slinks into the couch, curling in on himself as he lets out a deep sigh. He closes his eyes, but he only sees Taehyung. His face. His eyes. Him, just sitting there, looking back at Jimin. He opens his eyes and stares into the empty darkness of his apartment, and still Taehyung is the only thing on his mind, is the only thing he can see. He never thought this day would come, never thought that he would see him again...and yet, at the same time, he had a feeling that he somehow would. But what were the chances right? He had always questioned. He knew Taehyung had moved back to Daegu after graduation while Jimin stayed in the US. If Jimin never ran into Taehyung again while they were living in the same city, then there was no chance he would ever run into him again while they lived in two separate countries, thousands of miles and oceans apart, right? Jimin had accepted that and was more than okay with that too. He didn’t think he wanted to meet Taehyung ever again anyways. He had imagined doing so countless of times; very frequently at first, but less and less as the days passed. Of course, he still would think about it every now and then: daydreams (or fears?) of running into him unexpectedly in New York, playing out scenarios of what he would say or do. But he never thought it would actually happen. Life wasn’t a kdrama after all, right?
And yet it did. Except in neither of the scenarios that Jimin would play out in his head did he imagine himself running away like he did tonight. In his head, Jimin was cool and collected; he was confrontational but in a kind way. In his head, Jimin was Over It and had healed from the trauma of everything that happened between them. But as it became clear to him now, real life Jimin was a coward who was certainly not Over It and as much as he thought he had healed, seeing Taehyung was another stab right to the wounds that once were.
As exhaustion from the day overtakes Jimin and he feels his body sink further and further into the couch, he wonders if there would be a chance for them to meet again. Seeing Kim Taehyung at the jazz club tonight—not even the most popular jazz club in the city either—meant that Taehyung was definitely in the city and definitely probably living close by. How long was he in the city for? Why was he here? Jimin wondered, but of course, asking himself these questions were pointless.
Jimin had always believed in fate and destiny. If Jimin was destined to never meet Taehyung again, then he shall not, and he can wake up every morning slowly pretending that the events of tonight were a dream, a mere figment of his imagination, and that maybe it wasn’t even Taehyung that he saw but a very similar lookalike (or at least, this is what he tells himself). And if he WAS destined to meet Taehyung again, just like he maybe probably did tonight, then he knows that no matter what, the universe would bring them together again.
Jimin groans to himself at the painful thought of that possibly happening.
Soulmates, they had once called themselves after all.
As half of Jimin’s mind supplies a distant possible scenario of him and Taehyung meeting again and the other half desperately hopes it never happens (and an even smaller, very tiny part of him hopes that it does, though, he’ll hate admitting it to himself), Jimin falls asleep.
xxx