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“Shit, I’m definitely not going to make it to the hall!”
You huffed while the sound of boots clacking on pavement became prominent, your stomps fueled with disappointment in yourself from hitting the snooze button one too many times.
A glance at your watch tells you that you’re left with only 2 minutes until your first research paper presentation.
Ever since your research being picked up by The Royal Society Publishing, it led to you becoming one of the youngest to get a residency in your institution, your rather peaceful life gradually stirred into the eventful life of someone who’s becoming quite the household name in neuroscience. Honest to God, you didn’t even know you would experience this type of recognition (the closest you ever got was being a witness to your boyfriend’s stardom).
Being ‘famous’ in the science world is definitely… interesting, to say the least. You may not have paparazzi taking your pictures on the street, or Twitter fan accounts making edits of you with the trendiest songs, but you’ve witnessed your name countlessly cited on students’ essays, your mother’s friends whose names you always fail to remember messaging you about how proud they are, and now you even chat casually with world-renowned figures who you used to watch on documentary clips.
And sure, there were lots of other perks, but this whole fame thing wasn’t really what you signed up for in the first place. You’ve always felt like you’re one conference away from whaling on the nearest cushion, calling it quits, and sleeping for the whole day.
You pushed the metal door with your last strain of energy, and right away you spot your assistant. He walked towards you, confusion all over his face. “Goodness me, did someone chase you? Why did you run?”
“If I don’t run—” you panted, “I’ll be late, and I don’t think I’d forgive myself.”
“Umm, the conference won’t start for another hour.”
You froze.
“We have an introductory speech from your former professor, followed by a presentation from this year’s winner for the neuroscience competition. Then, it’s your turn—the main event.”
“Huh?” your breath hitched with annoyance, head unconsciously tilting to the right.
“Good lord,” your assistant shook his head, “Alright then, you don’t have anything to worry about. You’re already here.”
You gave a quick nod while your mind ran 100 km per hour, adrenaline still rushing. Quickly, you realized you need to check your phone before the event started, so you open your faux leather tote to find it. As you rummaged your tote, you bombarded your assistant with questions. “Have you sent the presentation file to IT?”
“Yes, I—”
“Have you done a one-time rundown to make sure everything is in order? Also, how about the handout copies, did you print enough? How about our 3D model?”
“I have everything covered, don’t worry.”
Finally, your eyes traveled back to your assistant. That’s a huge fucking relief, you thought. “You’re a life savior, honestly.”
He chuckled, “Well, I need that recommendation letter in the future—”
“Despite being the most troublesome assistant in the entire world.”
“Says the one who apparently read the time wrong.”
You rolled your eyes at your assistant’s antics and… ah! You finally found your phone. On the lock screen are notifications for 5 emails, 2 missed calls, a bunch of headlines from different news outlets, and 4 messages under a contact simply saved with a squirrel emoji as his name.
Your boyfriend.
Your smile grew as you quickly open his messages:
[8:56] good morning sunshineee, big day today!!!
[8:56] i know your pretty head will overthink but believe me, you got this, and you will amaze everyone! i was so impressed hearing your material on video call last week
[8:57] the boys sent their best wishes for you~ jungkook said don’t forget to send the recorded presentation because he’s dying to see it!
[8:58] don’t forget to take a deep breath! drink water too!! good luck babyyy ♡♡♡♡♡
His messages really powered through the tension in your body, which almost magically dissipated. You couldn’t help but giggle, which your assistant quietly chimed in, jokingly nudging you, “Oh my god, is that your boy~ friend~” he slurred in a singsong voice.
“Hey! These messages are for me, not you!” you yelped, taking a step back.
“five heart emojis? Yeah, he’s in love with you, alright. Ugh, I’m going to gag.”
“As if I didn’t do the same thing when I saw you seconds away from swallowing that soccer player at the bar last week.”
Your nosy assistant let out an eruptive laugh, which you intuitively followed. Thankfully, the hall wasn’t occupied with anyone else except both of you.
“Remind me again why you’re my best friend?”
//
Time ran faster than you anticipated, and now you’re standing in front of your peers, former professors, and a line of reporters seated in the front row. You have memorized every single detail, down to the dots (for fuck’s sake, YOU were the one who did this research from A to Z).
Minutes before your presentation, you remember those torturous months in the lab, irregular breakdowns on phone calls with your boyfriend, countless coffee cups and headache pills, hundreds of draft files, and the seeping anxiety while you check your punctuations before you submit to the publishing team.
Powering through all of that with sheer willpower finally brought you to this spot. Even though there will be more chances for you to present your breakthrough research, you definitely don’t want to risk any of it. You want to make everything count.
For now, you’re in a grey area of consciousness; smoothly stringing together sentences on hypotheses and methodological processes, while your hands betrayed you with unsteadiness. If those reporters squinted a bit harder or twisted their camera lenses to zoom in, surely the tremors in your hands would be clearly visible.
Your eyes roamed through the hall, trying to find a point where you can look to recede your stage fright—when you spot a man, sitting somewhere in the center, around 7 rows away from you. His face wasn’t visible under the cover of a hood, but you swore you recognized the bagginess of that moss-colored hoodie.
You mentally cursed for allowing yourself to be distracted by it while addressing the variables of your research. That was until you saw a glimmer. The man wore a small-beaded necklace, with a spherically shaped pendant, glimmering in his neck.
Wait… That’s him.
He’s here.
The storm inside you was finally subdued, your trembling hands calmed down, and you could feel the invisible weight on your shoulder lifting. You continued with ease, trying with all your might to not break a smile.
//
To say you were delighted with the responses to your presentation was definitely an understatement. You didn’t expect a standing ovation and rapid flashes of reporters’ cameras directed at you the moment you’ve said your closing statement. Although there was no screaming or chanting, all the praises still rang loudly in your ears, searing deep into your mind. Logically, you should’ve embraced the euphoric state you’re in, where you finally feel highly appreciated for all the hard work you’ve accomplished. But truthfully, you felt quite the opposite.
Your chest slowly tightened, followed by fastened heartbeat; it’s quite similar to one of the nights when you were on the brink of crying out your fatigue. You were definitely thrilled, but this unsettling reaction crept at the back of your mind. As you frantically searched a way to mentally calm your nerves, your eyes finally laid onto your boyfriend’s movement, as your assistant led you to sit down in front of hurdling reporters.
After what felt like an eternity, the crowd finally dispersed, most reporters had already packed their equipment and left the hall, and you could breathe easier. Being up close with rows of recorders and mics laid on the table while dozens of eyes looking at you really pushed you to the limit.
As you tidied up your belongings, you felt a hand slid across your back, enclosing the distance to give you a side hug. The familiar sense of warmth made you yelp softly, your head turning to the owner of the hand.
“Why you didn’t tell me you were coming here?” You giddily whispered, trying your best to hide your excitement (so you won’t accidentally reveal your superstar boyfriend to the entire hall).
Hoseok hugged you tighter as he whispered back, “That wouldn’t be a surprise then.”
“Shouldn’t you be at a studio session until tomorrow?”
“Yeeeah… I told Namjoon and Yoongi that I have an urgent meeting with an expert—”
“How many times have I told you, I’m not!”
“Uh, yes? You are? What did you just do there, then?” Hoseok jokingly sassed you as he let you go from his embrace, knowing he couldn’t stay close for too long to prevent any unwanted attention (Both of you always hated this part in your relationship).
“So, you’re telling me… You woke up before sunrise, drove for 4 hours, through that hellish road M5, and managed to get through security to enter here?”
“Yes to all of that. Your colleague over there helped me get access into the hall.” Hobi turned and pointed. You glanced in the direction he pointed at, and see your best friend—having dropped his “assistant” persona—giving you thumbs up. Definitely going to write him the best recommendation letter, you chuckled to yourself, as you slung on your tote.
“Alright, should we go get—”
Hobi’s question was cut short by an older woman, the organizer, who approached you, calling your name a couple of times.
“Sorry to interrupt, but we need to take pictures with the faculty before we wrap up.” She said with a polite, apologetic smile, glancing between the two of you—but not showing any signs of recognizing Hoseok.
“Ah, right. Thank you. I’ll be there in a second,” You replied, letting out a sigh as she left you both.
Hobi took your tote as he pulled his phone from his pocket, “I’ll take pics too, wouldn’t miss this day for the world.”
Your smile grew bigger, and so did his.
//
“Hobi, I honestly don’t know how you do it.”
“Hm? Do what, love?”
You didn’t respond right away. Hoseok didn’t nudge you either, his attention was on the road, driving you both to his temporary place. You absentmindedly twirled the coffee cup that he bought before you could ask (‘such a doting boyfriend’, and you thought you couldn’t possibly be more in love with him).
“You know, you being a musician, having millions of people keeping tabs on you.”
Hobi chuckled as you continued, “I was trembling to death while I was presenting my research. That conference was the biggest one yet, and it wasn’t even open to the public! God, and the reporters… They were professional by the way, nothing weird happened, but they kept taking pictures? Which doesn’t make sense to me, because how many pictures do they need? Am I going to be on the cover of Vogue?”
“Love, I’m pretty sure they do that in order to have a selection of photos and pick which ones that can present you the best. Although you always look amazing from every angle.”
You snorted hearing the compliment and Hoseok smiled as he continued, “But yes, I get what you mean, sometimes it can be overwhelming.”
“So how did you do it, then?”
“Hm?”
“How did you always look so confident? Every time I see you in concerts or in any performance videos, you were always ecstatic. Always going all out on every single song and never missing any dance move, any beat. You. Made. It. Look. So. Easy.”
Hobi held your right hand, brought yours closer to him.
“I don’t really have any tips or tricks if that’s what you’re looking for.”
You pouted, and as if Hoseok had telepathic powers, he turned to see your facial expression and laughed, “Baby, I’m seriousss~”
Your pout harder with your eyebrows scrunched, Hoseok’s laughter growing louder. His eyes darted back to the road. Silence once again filled the car as you two absorbed each other’s presence for a while.
And next thing you know, the first snow has arrived.
Little specks of snowflakes land on the windshield before the car’s movement blew them sideways. You were grateful that you could experience the beginning of winter with him, after being so far away from each other for God knows how long. The fact that he surprised you to support one of the biggest milestones in your career surely meant the world to you.
Hoseok finally broke the silence, “To be honest, I do get nervous from time to time. Not just while performing, but on many occasions.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” He brought your hand and kissed the back of your hand. “Like, asking for your number when we met at that charity event.”
Oh.
Him? The Jung Hoseok? Nervous about asking YOU out? You must be hallucinating, you thought. But you knew you were awake enough to hear the sincerity in his voice.
“Funny how our first encounter also happened when the first snow arrived in Seoul that year.”
You only nodded, still in disbelief of his statement earlier.
Hoseok continued, “I was pacing back and forth, panicking about whether this was going to be awkward, or if you would walk away.”
“Oh, please, I was the one in shock when you approached me and said ‘Hi, I’m Hoseok’ while my mind was still reeling just from the fact that you introduced yourself.”
“But look where we are now.”
You felt warmer than the seat warmer you sat on, flustered about how amazing your life has been since he’s become part of it.
“Okay, but you still haven’t given me the answer. How did you do it?”
Hoseok glanced at you, smiling even wider than before.
“I personally like to surround myself with things I like before I start on work. It could be anything really, you could try to listen to music or text your friends, so you will feel less alone.”
He paused for a moment, and lowered his voice, “But if I can’t, I remind myself that I know I’ll sleep better in the future knowing I’ve taken all the chances I could, and face them with everything I’ve got, rather than regret not doing so later on.”
You softly said yes, and he continued, “Now, I’d like to remind you that you’ve taken your chances when you decided to conduct your research, become a neuroscientist, all to help people for generations to come. And I know there will be more chances for you to take from here on out, so take today as proof that you are strong enough to take them all on—and do your best.”
Overwhelmed with his encouragement, you leaned over the gear shift to kiss him on the cheek, mentally saying grace for how lucky you’ve been at this point in your life.
“Thank you, Hobi.”
“Anytime, love.”
You rubbed his hand, wishing this moment would last for a lifetime. “Hobi, I think I’m going to take this next chance.”
“Which is?”
“Will you be there for me when I need that reminder? For the next first snow, perhaps?”
He looked at you, warmth emanated from his eyes. He held your hand tighter.
“Of course. I will take the chance to remind you again. As many chances as I can have.”