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Somewhere between the urgent need to throw up and the trout in his jacket pocket, Jacob decides this was not just any bad idea—it was a terrible one.
Stepping off the little Japanese fish boat and onto dry land, he blames the stupid broken ticket counter at the airport that refused his entry, among the other things that contributed to his misery over several hours ago. The cab driver who wouldn’t get his tank refilled if the sky had begun to cave in; the kid on the BMX bike who’d secured himself a special spot in the hot down below along with Jacob’s wallet; and Samantha at the customer service counter who clearly had better things to do on the company laptop than her day job.
Most importantly, he blames himself deeply for ever letting a word of his brother’s advice about traveling in the 21st Century into his head.
As soon as he’s hauled all his baggage onto the pier and waved the captain goodbye and received a string of intense foreign language in reply, Jacob fishes his phone out of his jean pocket and scrolls furiously through his contacts.
After one or two rings, the receiver picks up. “ Hello? ”
“You’d better be on the next space mission to Mars with enough to keep you there because I will hunt you down. Me and the captain of this Japanese fishing boat.”
“Hey, I’ve always wanted a Japanese fishing boat.”
“Jeff, the next time you fall asleep you’re waking up to your beautiful dark curls in a ziplock next to your dead goldfish.”
“Well, I don’t have any goldfish.” Jeff says.
“That’s what you’ll be thinking when you wake up with a bald head.”
“Jacob,” Jeff sighs. “You’re there and you’re alive , aren’t you?”
“Barely. And no thanks to your travel pamphlet that’s never going to dry of seawater, by the way.” Jacob scrubs algae off of his shirt, grimacing.
“Remind me not to ask you where to go the next time I need a marine biologist to interview.”
“Yeah, OK. But will you do me a favor, baby bro, and look around you for one minute? As in—drop everything for sixty seconds and take a deep breath. Buy an ice cream cone.” Jeff says into the phone. “It’s Italy, for god’s sake.”
Considering this, Jacob surveys the surrounding area. Around him, houses of all colors spread out across half grass-half cement; a mix of buildings laid out in rows and branching out on top of each other. In a way they remind him of his collection of empty cereal boxes back home. The thought seems to relax him a little.
And while the trip wasn’t the most conventional; a true candidate for the pinnacle of nausea, he supposes he wouldn’t lie about the serene characteristic of Milan’s crystal blue water. Which goes for the seemingly warm neighborhood before his eyes, too. Men push carts filled with fruits around town and take them to the women in command of the stalls. A handful of children appear on bikes with kites that fly into the air attached to the rear ends. One of the girls even has a red-ribboned maine coon in her basket of flowers.
Finally, as if to complete a scene from a movie, a curly redhead boy pedals an ice cream shop right by a boutique and attracts an influx of customers, all of whom had promptly dropped what they’d been doing at the sound of the bell.
So maybe he would never admit it, but perhaps Jeff could be right about this. That maybe the only problem was in the beginning; that maybe this trip would become more unforgettable than he gave it credit for.
Sighing, Jacob says, “Fine.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Hey—hey, get me some of that vintage film on your way back if you find any!”
“Goodbye, Jeff.”
Jacob slings his backpack over his shoulder, pulls himself together, and attempts to approach the place with a brand new attitude. But he stills himself on the pier first, the sea breeze blowing at his back.
There’s just so much to take in all at once: the savory scent of Cotoletta alla Milanese from the restaurant downtown, the music of a local band of acoustic guitarists in the square, the swarm of seagulls in search of a piece of bread, and the boy with pretty eyes charging towards him on a bicycle. What?
It all happens so quickly Jacob doesn’t even register the frantic sound of the bell. The pretty-eyed boy has lost all control of his pedals trying to get a grip on the brakes.
“Whoa!” He exclaims as he swerves to avoid a rock and the wheel slips in a puddle of water, denying him command of his handlebars as well. Their eyes meet and widen at the same time before the bike flings itself off to the side, the rider crashes into Jacob, and they fall into the sea with a splash.
When Jacob emerges from the water he’s soaked to the bone, there’s seaweed on his shoulder, and a crowd of children have left their own bikes to laugh and stare. Next to him, the biker boy who’d just cost him one of his favorite shirts shakes the water out of his face. Jacob watches, rendered speechless, as the boy takes the liberty of hoisting himself back up on the pier first.
The mystery boy is probably just as soaked as he is, and yet he could not have looked any better, scrunching the hem of his red flannel shirt to get the rest of the water out. Then he pulls it off of his body and uses it to dry his hair, which falls in wavy, dark strands over his forehead. Jacob has a theory he might have been distracted by the boy’s plain white shirt underneath under different circumstances, but right now he’s just so close to bursting.
“Who the hell doesn’t watch where he’s going on a bike?” He yells, still treading in the water.
The boy stops drying his hair to look at him. Tilting his head like he was curious, or something. What the hell is his problem?
“Hello?”
“Hi. Sorry about that. It’s just, you look like someone I’ve met before.” He has a very little bit of the local accent, and talks like he finds the whole thing absolutely humorous.
“I’m Hyunjae.”
Hyunjae reaches his arm out across the water. Jacob doesn’t take it, though, and pulls himself up on land.
“And you’re?” Hyunjae asks.
“Having a terrible day. Thank you for that.”
Jacob situates himself as far away as possible from Hyunjae, who watches him with a smile laced in intrigue from the edge of the pier. He goes off to take care of his luggage, and of course Hyunjae notices that, too.
“Tourist, of course. How long are you staying?”
Jacob only side-eyes him, retrieving a bag from underneath the bike. “Not really any of your business, don’t you think.”
“I suppose not.” Hyunjae says. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I have a thing of inserting myself into what everyone’s doing.”
“No, I’ve noticed just fine.”
Grinning, Hyunjae jumps up from his seat and approaches Jacob. He’s tied his damp red flannel around his shoulders and his brown hair sparkles in the sun.
“I knew you would, Jacob Bae.”
Jacob whips his head around so fast at the sound of his name in that voice. When he almost drops his laptop bag, Hyunjae’s superhero reflexes save it.
“How did you—”
Hyunjae stops him by waving his open card holder, which displays his I.D. clear as day, in his face. “Might need to be a bit more careful with this one.”
Jacob snatches the card holder from his hands with a bit of a huff. His clothes are all wet, so he shoves it in the side pocket of his relatively dryer duffel bag. He tries hard not to mind, but it’s a challenge when Hyunjae’s pair of eyes seem to almost burn through his head.
“Are you done?”
“With what?”
“With pushing all my buttons.”
Hyunjae blinks. And then he smiles. “That depends. You didn’t answer my question first. How long are you staying?”
Jacob sighs as he piles the rest of his carry-ons on top of his luggage and pulls the handle up. “Not short enough.”
Hyunjae nods. He follows him on purpose until Jacob stops in his tracks and turns around, specifically to make sure he doesn’t. Hyunjae raises his hands in surrender, and watches with a curious smile as Jacob walks the rest of the way into town.
“Okay, so I’ll see you around?” Hyunjae yells.
“I really hope not!” Jacob yells back.
Hyunjae spots Jacob flinching when a frisbee dashes past him, almost grazing his head. He laughs.
“Lucky for you, I love a good challenge.”
🫕
The sun is directly overhead when Jacob arrives at the address on the paper Jeff had given him “just in case.” His phone had fallen into the water with him earlier, and left him with an Italian-only map he’d found at the Tourists’ Center. The map had taken him down at least 7 different roads and made him turn 10 out of 20 forks wrong before getting him on the right track—an hour and a half later.
With the addition of the waterfalls of sweat down his back, his clothes weren’t getting any dryer, not even in the 32 degree heat. Now he was more concerned about dehydration and heat stroke than anything else.
Curse this entire morning , he thought, some parts more than others .
Nevertheless, no more than 90 minutes later, Jacob’s purpose is clear. Finally, he’s here to do what he has to and nothing more or less. This seemingly inevitable butterfly effect is set to meet its end and this cursed trip is about to take a complete turn. For the better, obviously.
So he walks up to the red front door at 623 Tramonto Street and rings the doorbell twice. In a moment, the door is answered by a short older woman, with a mix of ash brown hair and white, holding a knitted scarf in progress in one hand. She adjusts her glasses, looking up at Jacob.
Instinctively, Jacob straightens his back.
“Hi, I’m looking for Dr. Minerva Lee.”
For a second he worries the old woman hadn’t heard a word he said, but he’s reassured by her slow forming smile.
“Well, that would be me.” Dr. Lee says.
Jacob offers his hand out for hers and bows when he shakes it. He exhales in relief knowing he won’t have to spend another 30 minutes in search of the right person.
“Oh, thank you for meeting me. Jeff told me you’d be willing to help me out with my study. I’m his brother, Jacob.”
“Some of us don’t have better things to do these days, Jacob. Come in, come in.”
Jacob knew little about his far senior in the field other than that she had retired a few years ago from the Milan Institute of Marine Biology, where she headed a certain research operation he was sure to hear about during their interview. She was the kind old landlord who let Jeff stay with her on his photography trip to Milan a few months ago.
Without her title and years of experience and expertise, Jacob decided she was just like anyone’s grandmother, radiating enough warmth and hospitality to shelter a village.
“Would you like some tea?” Dr. Lee asks.
“That would be nice, actually. Thank you.”
“Take any seat you’d like.”
Jacob waits until the professor’s left the living room before looking around. The house is filled with vintage furniture, all decorated in intricate patterns and carvings in the wood. It was like entering an antique store, except the air wasn’t all dust and there was a real touch of home in every item.
The fancy wooden bookshelf next to the window gets Jacob’s attention. In the highest row, Jacob finds an old snow globe, a ballerina in a music box, and a picture frame. Curiously, he traces the carving in the silver frame and takes in the photo inside. It’s a fading picture of a middle-aged woman he presumes might be the young Dr. Lee and a little boy with dark hair wearing a Santa hat, sitting in her lap. The back of the frame is marked Christmas 2001 in black pentel pen.
Before Jacob can inspect the rest of the items, Dr. Lee returns from the kitchen with a kettle on a tray.
“All my tenants are usually fond of the raspberry.” She says, smiling as Jacob rushes to assist her with the tea set. “And I baked these biscuits myself.”
“They’re already lovely, Dr. Lee. Thank you.”
Jacob sets the tray down on the glass table in the middle of the room. He settles in the couch parallel to the professor’s, reaching for a teacup.
“How do you like the house?” She asks.
“It’s even more beautiful than the pictures.” Jacob nods, taking a sip of the tea. “And this is delicious.”
Dr. Lee smiles in appreciation. “What did you say your study was about again, Jacob?”
“Oh, of course.” He sets his teacup down. “I’m writing a paper on invertebrate zoology in the Atlantic ocean, and part of the task is to interview an expert in the field. I’ll just need 5 to 10 minutes of your time, really.”
“Invertebrate zoology, you say?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m absolutely fascinated.”
“Then you’ve absolutely come to the right place.”
They exchange appreciation in smiles and nods, and Jacob manages to conjure a more convenient story of his initial travel to the place. He leaves out the part about falling into the sea. After around ten minutes, the tea kettle is empty and a pile of crumbs replaces the former plate of biscuits.
“So, how long will you be staying?”
“I’ll have to leave in two days. I had to pull some strings to get three days off from the semester.”
“I see. Then what do you say we do the interview tomorrow, and save you that last day for a real day off?”
Jacob smiles at the thought. “I say that sounds like a plan. That even clears up some free time for me today.”
Dr. Lee’s eyes light up behind her round-frame glasses.
“Why don’t you tour the town today?” She says.
“Oh. Should I?” Jacob replies.
“Of course, you should. I know someone who can take you. My grandson.” Dr Lee says. “Nipote!”
Grandson? Ah. It must be the little boy from the picture in 2001. Jacob was never one to need a tour guide, but considering the events of his solo trip so far, he reckons some company who knows the place better wouldn’t hurt.
When a boy replies in Italian from one of the rooms in the hallway, Jacob hopes he won’t be too big a burden on Dr Lee’s poor grandson. And when the door to the bathroom swings open and reveals a tall boy in a sweater, with a towel around his neck and dark hair that was dripping wet, Jacob realizes the universe wasn’t nearly done pulling pranks.
Some company would be a little awkward, fine, but this company could not possibly be real.
“Hyunjae, take Jacob around town, will you?” Dr Lee says.
The widening grin on Hyunjae’s face makes Jacob want to run.
🫕
First, it’s like a punch in the face.
After that it’s like a stronger punch in the face.
Finally, it’s like all the punches in the face in the world and the world has imploded and the remains have sunken into the unknown.
“So you’re the new tenant.”
Just the sound of his voice sends a chill up Jacob’s spine. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t have been . The timeline hates him to the core.
“And you’re … the grandson.”
“That’s me!”
Hyunjae leans against the doorframe of Jacob’s rented room, the towel still strung around his neck, a half-eaten biscuit in his hand. He watches Jacob unzip and unpack like a pride of lions was just around the corner, and has the audacity to laugh.
“You can answer me now, then. How long are you staying? Asking as the grandson of your landlord , and all.”
Jacob breathes through his eyes. “Two nights. Three days.”
“Ah. And you’re doing an… interview? With my grandmother ?”
“Yes. Happy?”
“Elated.” Hyunjae says, amused to the tips of his toes.
Jacob takes out a dinosaur clock he’d ordered online once out of his backpack and sets it down on the bedside table. Then he rummages through the luggage for a while before he finds Cobie , an orange alien-grasshopper hybrid he has for a doll. He tries to tune out the sound of Hyunjae’s snickers.
“I’ll be in my room when you’re ready to go out.” Hyunjae says, hand on the doorknob. “You need anything right now?”
“Nothing from you, thankfully.” Jacob says.
Hyunjae grins. “Okay. Don’t get tired of me already.”
“Actually, wait.”
Hyunjae stops in his tracks and peeks through the crack in the door, only a little startled. “Yeah?”
Jacob holds out his soaked mobile phone in a plastic bag.
“Would you happen to have some uncooked rice lying around?”
🫕
Jeff Bae
4:19 PM
Jacob is typing…
Jacob:
You’re dead to me
Jeff Bae:
WHY
Jacob:
Why didn’t you tell me Dr Lee had a grandson?
Jeff Bae:
OH, Hyunjae?
He’s awesome
You’ll like him
And you’re the same age
Jacob:
He’s the reason I’m still soaking wet
Jeff Bae:
Damn, OK
So he’s sexy, we get it
Jacob:
NOT LIKE THAT
We fell into the water
Because of his stupid bike and legal blindness
Jeff Bae:
I have so many questions
But I’ll save them for when you get home
What are you doing rn?
Jacob:
Trying to dry my phone
After this he’s taking me on a tour of the town
Jeff Bae:
Taking it to the next level
Have fun baby bro
Jacob:
I hate your guts
Jacob shuts his laptop and finishes the last of his glass of water. He stops in front of the mirror, brushes through his hair, and never forgets his camera. When he opens the door, Hyunjae’s waiting for him against the wall.
The only difference is his shirt; a new dark green flannel over a plain white tee instead of the earlier sweater. But everything from the worn-out jeans and the dirty white sneakers to the smile plastered on his face remains the same. His now-dried hair might’ve counted as a new, refreshed look if not for his inability to wear a bad head of hair. Not even when dripping wet.
He gives Jacob a little wink and gestures for him to follow.
“Grandma, we’re headed out!”
“Be watchful of the cars!”
As soon as they’ve stepped out of the house, Jacob whips out his map from earlier and a tiny notebook that fits in the palm of his hand. He scribbles something on one of the pages without noticing Hyunjae peering over his shoulder.
“I spent the last three hours or so doing research on popular tourist spots and activities and such within a 10-kilometer radius.” Jacob jams his pen in the middle of the notebook.
“Teatro alla Scala , The Last Supper tour, Duomo. Which of these should we do first?”
“Can I see that?” Hyunjae says.
He receives the notebook from Jacob and, after barely skimming the paper, neatly tears off the page in one swift rip.
“What the hell!” Jacob says in horror.
“We should do… none of these first. Oh, except maybe the Navigli District; you can catch a good sunset there.”
Hyunjae folds the page and stuffs it into his jacket pocket. Then he throws on a pair of sunglasses.
Jacob wants to retaliate, but he holds back, exhaling. “Fine. Then what should we do?”
Hyunjae grins, and for a moment Jacob has a bad feeling again.
“No amount of famous tourist attractions will introduce Milan to you properly. If we want to do this right,” Hyunjae says, making Jacob lean back. “We have to do this my way .”
“How would you rate your public transportation system?” Jacob asks, looking around.
Hyunjae goes around back for a second and returns with his bike, motioning for Jacob to hop on the seat in the back.
“You’re joking.”
“Well, come on. Rate it yourself.” Hyunjae says.
He contemplates and prays and searches deep for his happy place first, but eventually, Jacob releases the swarm in his head as he positions himself sideways on Hyunjae’s cursed bike.
Hyunjae produces a second pair of sunglasses from nowhere and hands it to Jacob.
“Alright. Now make sure to hold on.”
“What?—”
Hyunjae takes off at the speed of light, and Jacob learns a thing or two about flying.
🫕
Jacob is still wrapped tightly around Hyunjae from behind when the bike comes to a complete stop. He tries to get up, but the nausea pins him down.
“How many more people have to fall into the water,” Jacob starts. “Before they put up a sign about maniacal bikers around here?”
Hyunjae scores another quick save with Jacob latched onto his shirt.
“Oh, I don’t do this for anyone. You’re part of a specially handpicked few.”
Slowly detaching himself and getting up on his own feet, Jacob realizes they’re stopped at the entrance of a marketplace. Hyunjae goes to secure his bike next to a telephone pole.
“Market?”
“Not just any market.” Hyunjae returns to Jacob’s side and sucks in a deep breath, beaming with pride. “This is where I grew up.”
Jacob marvels at the view of the biggest marketplace in Milan. Packed with just the right amount of customers, home to freshly harvested goods and specialty street food for both the starved local and the curious tourist. Music and light conversation make up the atmosphere. The place is splashed in color and decoration just like the majority of the city.
Hyunjae has to tug on Jacob’s arm to snap him out of the daydream, pulling him inside.
“Well, come on. We don’t have all day.” He says.
They pass by a row of apples and dragonfruit and a bunch of greens Jacob can’t recognize, but knows his mother would like for her cooking. Farther down right, a number of vendors tend to food in trays under hot orange light. There’s the occasional sound of oil splattering and fire crackling in the background, and a savory symphony of smells fills the air.
“Carmen, always the apple goddess. Lucia, you don’t suppose I can get a discount on the bread, do you? Really? You’re the best.”
Hyunjae left his side and took the lead minutes ago, proceeded to practically waltz his way from one stall to another. There was a high chance he was right about a better look into the city, particularly into its cuisine. Awestruck, Jacob wonders what it might be like to know everyone in a small town.
“Hey, Jacob. Have you ever tried a panzerotti?” Hyunjae says, waiting for him to catch up.
“Uh, if you tell me what it is I might be able to answer that better.”
Hyunjae laughs. “Follow me!”
Jacob is dragged to a stall in the far right corner he’d been watching earlier, where a plump middle-aged woman was dunking baskets into hot oil. She smiles excitedly at the sight of Hyunjae approaching.
“Who’s your friend, Jae?”
“This is Jacob from…”
“Toronto.” Jacob says.
“Toronto!” Hyunjae says. “I’ll take two panzerottis , please, Rosa. Make them extra crispy.”
“Coming right up!”
Jacob watches Rosa stuff a pre-shapen pizza dough with beef and cheese, and then deep-fry it at 270 degrees. His mouth waters just at the sight of it; dark around the edges, golden all over.
Hyunjae hands Jacob one of the steaming hot pockets and exchanges a euro for the both of them.
“ Panzerotti . Like a calzone, only better.” Hyunjae says.
Jacob blows on the food and waits for the steam to disappear before he takes the first bite. When he finally does, it exceeds his expectations by a mile. He looks up to meet Hyunjae’s expectant smile.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re right.”
“Of course, I am! If you liked panzerottis , you’ll like a whole lot more. Come on.” Hyunjae drops 50 cents in the tip jar. “Thanks, Rosa!”
Rosa throws Hyunjae a wink, whispering something in Italian that Jacob doesn’t quite catch.
“Where to, next?”
“Oh, what’s this? Enthusiasm?”
Jacob would roll his eyes, but he’s honestly just too hungry, and the food here is just too good.
“I’m kidding. Let’s go for tramezzinis , I know a good place.” Hyunjae says. “Ever had one before?”
Jacob scarfs down the last of his panzerotti .
“You must know my answer to that is no .”
Hyunjae finds him absolutely amusing. “Well, we can change that. Come along.”
Their next stop is a stall about ten steps west of Rosa’s panzerottis , run by a younger man who looked about their age. His violet-blue hair sparkled behind the orange light, and so did the ring in his nose.
“Hyunjae.” He says, gum between his teeth.
“Chanhee.”
Chanhee scans him, and then Jacob, and then his eyes dart to Hyunjae’s hand on his wrist and he raises an eyebrow. Jacob has no idea how he didn’t catch it himself, but he doesn’t say anything.
“This is Jacob, he’s from Toronto.” Hyunjae says.
“Canada boy, huh? Would you like a tramezzini ? I would recommend a Venezia , but Hyunjae over here will always insist on his favorite.” Chanhee says.
Jacob looks to Hyunjae for consultation, and he nods, almost solemnly.
“Then maybe I should listen to him.”
Chanhee nods, reaching for a paper sleeve. “One Maracaibo coming right up.”
The tramezzini is prepared like a British tea sandwich; stuffed with filling, and then served without the crusts. Chanhee skillfully cuts the sandwiches in perfect triangles, and Jacob has to keep his mouth from hanging open.
“Just to be clear, what’s in a Maracaibo ?” Jacob asks.
“Chicken in courgette and herb cream.”
Hyunjae reads the confusion in Jacob’s expression.
“Courgette as zucchini, for you.” He explains, grinning once Jacob’s made a sound in realization.
In a minute, Chanhee rings a bell and slides a box of Maracaibo tramezzini across the counter, along with something else. Jacob inspects the sandwiches while Hyunjae pays up.
Chanhee stops his hand mid-air. “On the house for Toronto. And that’s a nutella-filled option if you want something sweet.”
“Thank you. Looks awesome.”
“Of course, it does. I made it.”
Jacob smiles as he takes a bite, and Hyunjae shakes his head.
“Thanks, Chanhee.”
Chanhee also replies in an Italian phrase Jacob does catch, but doesn’t understand.
Hyunjae takes Jacob to at least 12 more stops of authentic Milanese street food, including a certain Parmigiana di melanzane that turned his preferences in favor of eggplants, before Jacob hits the daily quota. He requests a break on the sidewalk just outside the marketplace, hanging onto a paper bag of green apples.
“Is there any chance we could get something to drink around here?” Jacob asks.
Hyunjae lights up like a ball of sun. “Of course there is. Come with me.”
Jacob gets up with a huff and follows Hyunjae to one of the stalls without the orange lighting. Instead, something that looks like a dispenser sits on the counter next to an array of cups, a mini electric mixer, and a cooler full of ice.
A woman in her thirties with kind eyes and an embroidered apron appears before them.
“Hyunjae, how’s your grandmother?”
“She’s alright, Julia, how are you?”
“I’m swell.” Julia says, patting him on the shoulder. “Can I get you and your friend a drink?”
Hyunjae glances at Jacob, who tries not to nod too profusely, and laughs to himself. “Your finest shakerato , please.”
“Coming right up.”
A shakerato , Jacob learns, is chilled espresso poured in a cup over ice and then mixed until it’s all frothy. It’s not like he’s never had iced coffee on a hot day before, but his mouth is foaming just thinking about the first sip of this drink.
“Here you are, dear. Drink gently.” Julia hands him a cup.
“Thank you.” Jacob accepts the drink and falls in love instantly with the flavor. He keeps Julia’s reminder in mind, but can’t help almost pouring the entire thing down his throat.
“Oh my god, you’re an artist. They don’t make anything nearly as good in Toronto.”
His sentiment makes Julia chuckle. Hyunjae meets her eyes when he hands her a euro.
When he leans in, she whispers, “È una bella persona.”
And Hyunjae quietly sneaks a glance at Jacob before he replies, also in a whisper,
“Il più bello.”
🫕
“So, you’re interviewing my grandma tomorrow?”
Hyunjae works in another lick of his ice cream cone right after he asks, swinging his feet back and forth.
“Yeah, I am.” Jacob says, doing the same thing.
They’re seated on the edge of the bridge overlooking the water, the breeze blowing softly all around. It was a 20-minute ride from the marketplace to the Navigli District, and while, perhaps, Jacob didn’t need to clutch onto Hyunjae’s shirt so tight, he’d still subconsciously found himself holding on for dear life. He could still feel all those panzerottis somersaulting in his stomach.
When they arrived Hyunjae immediately took him to an ice cream cart nearby, the same one from earlier peddled by the boy with curly red hair. Jacob happily accepted a vanilla on strawberry cone, and Hyunjae found peace in pure chocolate.
In the background, children are on their last rounds of hopscotch and frisbee and frog races. The sky was beginning to fade into an intense pink.
“What’s that like? Studying the ocean.” Hyunjae says.
“Well, it can be overwhelming knowing there’s still so much out there to explore. Just like any science.” Jacob answers. “But it’s overwhelming in a good way. And rewarding. And fascinating everyday.”
Hyunjae rotates his cone for a better angle. “Sounds awesome. I hope your project goes smoothly.”
Jacob does a quick once over of Hyunjae.
“Thanks… I hope so, too.”
For a moment there’s just enough silence to complete the scenery; enough to think, to appreciate where you are. Jacob quietly studies the gradient in the sky and uncaps the lens of his travel camera.
Hyunjae realizes the number of shots he’d deprived Jacob of by avoiding the tourist spots today. The lack of conversation starts to get to him, and quick.
“About this afternoon,” He starts, getting Jacob’s attention. “I know this wasn’t your idea of a tour of Milan. It’s easy for me to get to know a place through their food and their people, but I didn’t need that introduction—you did.”
“Are you kidding? All that street food made me feel like I’ve been here all my life. Get over yourself, it was amazing.” Jacob says.
Hyunjae offers him his warmest smile and points to the sunset. “Better get those shots quick. The sun doesn’t have all day, you know.”
“Oh, right.” Jacob says, scrambling to focus the lens.
Jacob turns around at the sound of Hyunjae laughing.
“What?”
“I bet you like me now, don’t you, Jacob Bae?”
Jacob scoffs. “I never said I didn’t like you.”
“No, you just implied it. Multiple times.”
“Well, you dropped me into the water on my first day here.”
Hyunjae shakes his head. “I also gave you the best tour of your life, you said so yourself.”
“When did I say it was the best tour of my life?”
Hyunjae grins, and Jacob can’t shake off a feeling.
“You just did.”
🫕
The next morning Jacob flings an arm across his bedside table and shuts his 4 am alarm up in one go.
He stirs and groans in bed and dreams of punching the alarm clock for a bit as part of the daily routine, but then remembers he has an agenda today. A professional task for the professional marine biology major. He couldn’t afford to disappoint his project now.
Stretching, he climbs out of bed and hangs his camera over his neck. He knew he was right to bring it for a time like this.
Jacob quietly opens the door to his room, careful not to wake anyone so early on his way out. The house is quiet and still as cozy as ever in the near sunrisen morning; eclectic and colorful and circulating the perfect amount of warmth. He secures his shoelaces at the front door, checks himself in the mirror quickly, and then exits.
At 4:15, he hops on the early morning train to the east coast. He would cross paths with the occasional graveyard shift on their way home, the newly arrived tourist, and the people in need of an escape. The English announcement on the subway comes right after the Italian one, letting him know of his whereabouts.
Jacob pays close attention to the list of stops on his phone, which he’d finally repaired to power and functionality just last night. After about 6 or 7 times the train doors slide open, Jacob gets off at the Piazza del Duomo ; right in the heart of Milan.
Behind the doors, Jacob takes a deep breath, and hopes he can catch the sunrise in time.
He does.
When he arrives back at the guest home, he’s greeted by the smell of frying bacon, old music from the radio, and the sound of someone singing along.
He kicks off his shoes and makes a turn for his room to drop his camera off.
“Jacob dear, is that you?”
“Yes, ma’am! I just got here.” Jacob replies.
“Come have breakfast with us. Hyunjae, get him a plate.” Dr Lee says from the dining room.
Jacob trudges to the dining room, wiping his hands on the towel on a hook. Hyunjae’s eyes meet his own, all busy in the kitchen.
“Good morning, traveler. Can I get you eggs and bacon?”
“I would love some, thank you.”
Hyunjae uses a spatula to transfer strips of bacon next to a scrambled egg on a plate. He finishes it off with spring onions.
“Here you are. We have orange juice in the fridge if you’re thirsty.”
Jacob grazes Hyunjae’s hand when he receives the plate from him. Something about the gesture makes his fingers jolt.
“Thanks, Hyunjae.”
Hyunjae sends him off with a salute, humming along to the song on the radio. The brief contact between them fills Jacob’s mind on the way to the fridge.
“Exploring the city so early, were you?” Dr Lee asks.
Jacob chuckles as he slides into the seat diagonal to Dr Lee and sets his plate down. “I was trying to get a shot of the sunrise.”
“Were you successful?”
“I was, all thanks to the view at Piazza del Duomo .”
Dr Lee nods, taking a sip out of her tea cup. “Hyunjae tells me you were capturing the sunset at Navigli yesterday. You seem to be fond of the sky.”
“You have no idea, Dr Lee. Almost just as much as the ocean.”
The statement brings a smile to the professor’s lips as she adjusts her glasses. “That’s good to know.”
In just a moment, Hyunjae appears from the kitchen and pulls out the seat next to Jacob’s.
“How do the scientists like my cooking?”
“Unfortunately, we can’t all cook like the street market,” Jacob says, mouth full. “But I’ll still give you a 10.”
Hyunjae bows in appreciation, chuckling. “I knew I could count on you.”
🫕
Jacob clears the coffee table in the living room for his laptop, a sheet of paper and a pencil, and two cups of coffee. He opens a document of prepared questions and settles in the solo couch. Dr. Lee takes the seat in front of him.
“Thanks again for doing this, professor. It’s an honor.”
“What I wouldn’t give to share the beauty of this science. It’s not a problem.”
“You wouldn’t mind if I recorded this, would you? Just for reference.” Jacob says.
“No, go ahead. Whatever will make things easier for you.”
“Awesome.”
From his pocket, Jacob pulls out a small rectangular recording device and sets it on the table next to his laptop. He turns the mic in Dr. Lee’s direction and clicks on a button that makes a light glow green.
“Alright, we’re recording now.” Jacob says. “Just for formality, my name is Jacob Bae, and I major in Marine Biology at the University of Toronto, Canada.”
“Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, Dr. Lee?”
“Let’s see,” She begins. “I graduated from the University of Florence in 1979, also with a degree in Marine Biology. And I got my PhD while working at the Milan Institute of Marine Biology, thanks to the project I began in 1987.”
Jacob notes something down on paper before resuming. “What was your project about?”
“For about 20 years, I directed the operations for research efforts in the Milwaukee Depth. Someone who studies the Atlantic such as yourself will know that it’s…”
“The deepest point in the ocean.” Jacob supplies.
“Exactly.” Dr. Lee nods, tapping on her temple. “We focused on bioluminescent organisms, but had a team for invertebrates in the midnight zone, as well. That went on for about 10 years, until I took a break.”
Jacob holds a button down on the device to pause the recording momentarily. “If I may ask, professor, what happened? Why did you take a break?”
Dr. Lee’s face drops the infinitesimal inch, but not in the way that marked despair or sadness. She was smiling at a memory.
“That year, my grandson was born.”
Everything is clearer now, Jacob realizes. He reimagines a newborn Hyunjae in Dr. Lee’s arms, unaware of how important his mere existence had been at the time. Crying his eyes out in a hospital crib, the object of pure fondness from every corner of his little world.
So important he put an entire research project on hold. Jacob keeps a smile to himself, nodding in understanding.
“The truth is, there was one thing I had in college that put me in a… different angle from everybody else.” Dr. Lee confesses.
“A 6-year-old daughter. She was my whole world, you know?”
“Of course.” Jacob says.
“I was raising her all on my own, and I didn’t want her to have to go through the same thing. But Hyunjae never had a father, so I took matters into my own hands. I started working again when Hyunjae was 5.”
Dr. Lee reaches for her cup of coffee and takes a sip.
“You mentioned you were from Toronto?” She asks.
“I did.” Jacob answers.
The old woman offers him a sad smile. “He rejected a bunch of acceptance letters from there, you see. To stay and take care of me here.”
The end of her sentence rings in Jacob’s ears.
“I see.”
“He’s always been like this. Never thought of himself first, not even when he should have. Sometimes his stubbornness drives me crazy.” She explains.
“Hyunjae is so talented and smart, and I know he has dreams of his own, too. But with his mother overseas at work, it pains me that he… put them all in the backseat. For us.”
Dr. Lee looks Jacob straight in the eye, her brows furrowed.
“He’s my whole world, too. I just wish he could explore his own.”
At some point, Jacob forgets to start recording again.
🫕
Later that night, after a long 5 hours of working on his paper, Jacob stands motionless in the shower for about 20 minutes straight, thinking over his talk with the professor. Her work and insights were remarkable and of great substance to his project, but he couldn’t forget about what she’d shared about her family. One grandson, a tad more than the others.
The hot water fills the room with high levels of humidity, so Jacob decides to step out for some fresh air. Thankfully, there’s a way to the balcony.
Jacob rests his hands on the ledge and puts all his weight—both body and mind—onto his elbows. His hair drips with shower water on the towel slung around his neck. In exasperation, he sighs into the void, wishing for nothing to no one in particular.
Right in the middle of his thoughts, a voice echoes nearby.
“You were gone a while.”
Jacob almost snaps his neck at the sound, and sure enough, Hyunjae is staring from the balcony of the next room.
“Yeah… interview bled through the afternoon.” He says, and in a moment of spontaneity, adds.
“Why, did you miss me already?”
Hyunjae’s brows shoot up in surprise, and then he laughs. But he replies, “Yeah. I did.”
Jacob doesn’t know what answer he was expecting. He shakes his head, and out of nowhere notices the guitar in Hyunjae’s lap.
“You play?” He asks, pointing to it.
Hyunjae strums a chord. “Just enough to sing along. You look like you do.”
“Just enough to play.”
Hyunjae thinks for a moment before he nods, a light bulb illuminating the top of his head. “Wait there.”
“What..?”
All at once, Hyunjae wears the strap on his torso and hangs the guitar on his back, climbs off the ledge, and gives Jacob a heart attack on his way over to the other balcony. The distance between both is barely a foot. Hyunjae completes the parkour with no sweat, but Jacob immediately secures his arms in his own.
Just for the guitar.
As soon as his feet are flat on the floor of Jacob’s balcony, Hyunjae looks up at him through the hair over his eyes, and says, as if only for Jacob to hear,
“Hi.”
“Hey.” Jacob replies, breath taken. “Do you ever not take a risk?”
“Considering the things I do everyday, no.” Hyunjae says.
Hyunjae takes a seat on the stone against the wall with his guitar and Jacob follows close. Once they’re both sitting, Hyunjae pulls the strap over his head and places the instrument in Jacob’s arms.
“Well, show off.”
Jacob slides his fingers along the metal strings, getting familiar with the mahogany. He tunes the guitar and plucks each string individually, low E to high. When he strums all six at the same time, the ceiling above them lights up in stars.
They look up together and the glow reflects in both their eyes. Jacob didn’t even notice the fairy lights when he’d first gotten on the balcony. The night is dark and cloudy, and the only other illumination comes from the moon.
“The universe has spoken. Play for it, Jacob.” Hyunjae says with his signature grin.
He needs a second to think. Jacob strums a pattern of chords that sounds like a daydream. Hyunjae laughs at the old song choice, but sings his heart out along.
Why do birds suddenly appear,
Every time you are near?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Jacob lets his hands do the work to steal a glance at Hyunjae swaying from side to side, following in his rhythm. His voice was the perfect fit.
Why do stars fall down from the sky,
Every time you walk by?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
On the day that you were born the angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold and starlight
In your eyes of blue
The continuous strumming pauses to make way for a skillful fingerstyle, which Jacob performs as an imitation of the piano in the original song. Hyunjae thinks he’s amazing, and it’s not like anyone could blame him.
That is why all the girls in town
Follow you all around
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Jacob ends with a final strum, and looks up to find Hyunjae staring back at him. They exchange a smile, which makes them both chuckle, as the wind comes out of the blue and blows.
It’s all quiet for a moment while the laughing dies down and the only thing to be heard for miles is the sound of all the wind chimes in the village. Jacob watches Hyunjae watching over the city, but whips his head around when Hyunjae looks back. His ears start to burn red as he trains his eyes elsewhere.
Hyunjae smiles, and after a while, he speaks.
“Grandma told you everything, didn’t she?”
The question makes Jacob face him again. “What?”
Hyunjae sighs, nodding. “I knew she would. We always come up when she talks about her job. And now you feel sorry for me.”
“Hyunjae.”
“Don’t look at me like that.” Hyunjae laughs. “I’m here by choice. Trust me, I’m only ever where I want to be.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. I know you can make your own decisions.” Jacob says.
Hyunjae leans his head back on the wall, holding Jacob’s gaze.
“Yeah?” He says.
“Yeah.”
Their fingers catch electricity on the pavement. Jacob wonders if he’s in control.
“But?” Hyunjae asks, shifting closer.
“But nothing.” Jacob tells him, leaning in. “You’re just so… brave.”
The feeling is almost so tangible it’s enough to suspend both their heartbeats simultaneously. Jacob’s skin heats up at the touch of Hyunjae’s against it. The ghost of Hyunjae’s lips begins to haunt his own.
There’s only one move left to make.
“Hyunjae!” A voice calls out from downstairs, making them both jump pulling apart.
“What, grandma?” Hyunjae yells back.
“I need help with something.” Dr. Lee’s voice is loud and clear this time.
Hyunjae huffs, shutting his eyes.
“I’ll be there in a second!”
Carefully, Hyunjae turns to face Jacob, who shrugs, trying to laugh it off as lightly as possible.
“I—I’m sorry,”
“No! Don’t be. Don’t do it, Hyunjae.”
Hyunjae finds himself glued to the pavement, but he has to get up eventually. In the doorframe, he stops before heading downstairs.
“Goodnight, Jacob.” He can only leave him with his smile.
And the truth is, Jacob would take them all. “Goodnight, Hyunjae.”
🫕
The last day of the trip is reserved for self-completion.
His flight back to Toronto leaves at 2 in the afternoon, but he has to board the bus to the airport at around 1pm to be sure. If there’s one thing Jacob’s learned about traveling between Canada and Italy so far, it’s that unpredictable is a central theme.
The thing is, he didn’t sleep at all. Tossing and turning all night, thinking about everything and nothing, wondering how things were going to be when he returned home. He lay straight in bed for 30 agonizing minutes of silence before ultimately deciding to get up and work on his paper. On the other hand, that went just fine.
Anyway, in spite of the bags under his eyes and the thoughts in his head, Jacob took the initiative to pack at 8am, leaving enough time for him to spend the day for himself.
He didn’t even have a lot to put back in the first place. All he’d really brought that actually took up space were clothes, now both dry and drying. Jacob exhaled in relief pulling his sun-dried outfit off the clothesline on the balcony. He stuffed them into laundry bags and packed the bags into a separate compartment.
He sat down and continued his paper until 9am, when he’d packed his laptop in a bag and slung it over his shoulder. Then he picked up his trusty camera and hung it around his neck. At exactly 9:10, his few bags were in a neat pile on the floor by his bed, and he could’ve left then if he wanted to. But he didn’t.
Earlier on his way out, he’d run into Dr. Lee watering a row of succulents by the window.
“Heading out?” She asked, smiling.
“Yes, ma’am. Just for a day off. I’ll be back in a few to pick up my stuff.”
“Good. I was afraid you were leaving without saying goodbye.” She said.
“No, of course not.”
Jacob had been reassuring her, but his eyes and body language were wandering elsewhere; all around the place. He’d forgotten how keen Dr. Lee was on the smallest details.
“Are you looking for something, Jacob?” She said.
“What? Me?”
“Your mind seems to be… wandering.”
Jacob shook his head a little too profusely for his liking, but he hoped he’d convinced her somehow.
“No, no, I’m all good. Perfectly fine.” He said.
Dr. Lee nods, although not swayed enough. “Alright. Watch out for the cars.”
“Will do.”
In the first hour, he’d secured a ticket for a viewing of The Last Supper, taking the subway to Santa Maria delle Grazie. For 45 minutes, he survived a crowd of other tourists, artists, and worst of all, the avid Da Vinci fans who would absolutely not proceed without a closer examination of every single brush stroke on the painting.
He couldn’t help but feel lonely at some point. Everyone had been there with their families or a friend or in groups with colleagues who had similar interests. Jacob would catch himself in the subconscious effort to glance at his right, then his left, then behind him and all around. His mind would run wild with the feeling of emptiness.
At 10 o’ clock, it was so hot out Jacob wondered why it was ever on his original itinerary to visit this place on the first tour.
The first tour. Just thinking about it made his stomach do a flip.
After deeming it unbearable to stand in the smoldering heat for any longer, Jacob hopped back on a train to Piazza del Duomo , where he’d found the perfect air-conditioned cafe by a stream.
He did kind of want to see the theater and a few other tourist attractions, but the sun was unforgiving, he was running out of time, and most credibly, there was just no point in going alone. So he’d decided to settle in the restaurant for 2 and a half hours, unloading his laptop on a table next to the window.
By the time his watch reads 12 noon, a good shakerato and apple pie have completely replenished his energy, and Jacob has finished his paper on the Atlantic Ocean. He stares at the words on the screen and breathes in relief, patting himself on the back for a job well done. Without even realizing, he’d forgotten all about the thoughts that plagued his headspace overnight. His only issue now is figuring out what to do for the last 30 minutes before he returns to the guest home for his bags.
He slides the laptop inside his bag, and after zipping it closed, leans in his chair. Jacob glances out the window to see the Cathedral sparkling in the direct sunlight, next to a number of people taking pictures.
Pictures. His camera, of course. Jacob switches the camera on and goes through his photo album like a slideshow.
The first couple of shots were taken at the airport and on the Japanese fishing boat he’d ridden to get to the city. The busy lines and lives at the check-in counters; the crystal blue of the waves; the alignment of the clouds in the sky.
His first picture of Milan is of the pastel neighborhood, brought to life by the men behind carts, the women behind stalls, and the children on their bikes from when he’d arrived. Somewhere in the album are pictures of the house on 623, the flowerpots on the street of bricks, and the writing on the walls.
Jacob doesn’t have the time to examine each picture too much, scrolling at just the right speed to get through them all, until one photograph stops his thumb in its tracks.
Hyunjae. Eating a panzerotti at the street market.
Jacob recalls briefly asking Hyunjae to hold his camera for him at some point, maybe while he was trying some of the eggplant drenched in tomato sauce. He has a vision of Hyunjae stealthily sneaking the selfie in when he wasn’t looking. The thought makes Jacob laugh. The picture makes him smile.
It isn’t just Hyunjae, though. The farther down the album Jacob gets, the more pictures of Hyunjae appear. All taken by himself, this time. All around the market, unlocking his bike, chasing a pigeon, buying from the ice cream cart.
Standing in front of the sunset that’d enchanted him to the core.
Somehow he doesn’t even remember taking half of those pictures. Nor the next half that appeared from the second day. Only one thought crosses Jacob’s mind and all sorts of feelings swim around in his stomach.
Who would care that he’d packed his bags and met his itinerary and finished a paper on a day of self-completion, if all he’d really been on the inside, was incomplete?
🫕
Jacob rushes home.
Enters an empty house, picks up his bags, and makes a run for the front door.
Just before he can disappear undetected, someone clears her throat from behind him.
“And where are you going without a goodbye?”
Jacob turns around and faces Dr. Lee, holding back as much expression as he possibly can. She instructs him to come forward.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Dr. Lee, I—I didn’t want to miss the airport bus.”
“Come here, Jacob.”
Dr. Lee gently pulls Jacob into her arms and pats him on the back, whispering in his ear.
“You come back, alright? You’re welcome here anytime.”
“Thank you for everything, professor.” Jacob says in reply.
“Thank you.”
She rubs his shoulder one last time before he pulls away, folding his lips together.
“He will always be nearby. No matter how strange, no matter how stubborn.” Dr. Lee says.
Jacob nods. “Okay.”
“Goodbye, but only for now, Jacob.” She puts her hand over her chest and looks him straight in the eye.
“I will. I promise.”
The walk to the bus stop is one of the longest trips Jacob’s ever been on. Somehow the heat doesn’t bother him anymore, the breeze helps him out, and only one thing drives him forward.
He will miss this small town and every memory of its walls he now owns when he leaves. The sound of the wind chimes on windy nights and flavors of Milan in every dish and sublime sunset views and the boy who’d made him wish he had more strings to pull to stay a little longer.
He should’ve known the truth. That Dr. Lee was always right.
Leaned against a telephone pole by the bus stop next to his stupid, stupid bike, Jacob could spot him in any crowd.
“Lee Hyunjae!”
Jacob pushes for the remaining distance with the weight on his shoulders, breathing heavily. When Hyunjae meets him in the middle with Jacob’s favorite smile on his face, Jacob drops his bags on the pavement and wraps his arms around his neck.
Hyunjae responds by securing his arms on the back of Jacob’s waist. “Hey, traveler. Everything okay?”
“Don’t say anything.” Jacob says against his shoulder.
“What?”
Jacob pulls away and looks Hyunjae in the eye before repeating in hardly a whisper. He leans in and his hands travel slowly to hold Hyunjae’s face.
“Don’t say anything.”
There’s a thump that threatens to burst right out of his chest. Jacob can reach out and touch it; the same tangible feeling from the night before. Kissing Hyunjae does everything he imagined it would, from slowing the world around him to a full stop to feeling exactly like it should—the real, raw touch of his lips and not the chill of their ghost leaves Jacob blindsided.
When he releases, his hands slide down to Hyunjae’s shoulders, and his hair falls over his eyes.
“You know me. I’ve got to complete my itinerary.”
Hyunjae shakes his head with a laugh, trapping Jacob in his arms. “Why’d you wait three days to check this one off?”
“Because on the off chance that you, despite being everywhere I am all the time, weren't actually into it I was hoping to spare myself some dignity.”
“Into what?”
Jacob sighs, refusing to meet his eyes. “Into this. Me. Don’t ask, I don’t know.”
“You’re crazy. I was into you the moment I saw you on the pier.”
“What?”
Hyunjae fishes a familiar piece of paper from inside his pocket. Unfolding it, he hands it to Jacob, and in neat handwritten pencil it reads:
Teatro alla Scala
The Last Supper tour
Duomo
Navigli District
To add..?
And right under the list in less neat, scribbled marker, a checklist with all the options crossed out.
Meet (crash into) cute, lost stranger on the pier.
Talk to (and befriend) cute, lost stranger.
(Uncontrollably) Fall for cute, lost stranger.
“When did you even write these?” Jacob asks.
Hyunjae just shrugs. “I do a lot of things when you’re not looking.”
Jacob opens his mouth to bring up the picture on his camera, but the sound of the airport bus arriving, coming to a halt, and letting the entire country know with a honk of its horn beats him to it.
Hyunjae points to the line of people at the doors.
“Well, I think you’d better get going. As much as I’d rather look at you for a bit longer, we can’t have you taking a Japanese fishing boat back, too.”
Jacob chuckles, but a tear spills out of his eye. He steals the marker in Hyunjae’s flannel pocket and scribbles something on the same paper.
After handing it back, he kisses him on the cheek, picks up his bags, and enters the bus. But not before stopping on the stairs in classic romantic cinema fashion.
“You’ll call me. Okay?” Jacob says, nodding to the paper.
Hyunjae looks at the number in black ink and then back up at him.
“And you’ll come back soon. Okay?”
Jacob bites down on his bottom lip, nodding endlessly. “Of course I will.”
Hyunjae gives him one last sight of that goddamn smile.
“Then I’ll only call you everyday until then. Goodbye, Jacob.”
The bus doors close before Jacob can screw everything and run back outside.
“Goodbye, Hyunjae.”
🫕
Jeff Bae
2:12 PM
Jeff Bae is typing…
Jeff Bae:
On your way home?
Jacob:
Yeah
Just got on the plane
Thank god the ticket machine worked this time
Or else I really would have killed you
Jeff Bae:
Haha, well you could’ve stayed
Jacob:
Yeah
I could have
Jeff Bae:
Did you find any of the vintage film??
Jacob:
You’re in luck
I found someone who could help
Jeff Bae:
AWESOME
Thanks
Jeff Bae:
Oh and how’d it go?
On a scale of 1 to the best trip of your life minus the terrible beginning which was most likely made up for by an amazing plot twist, anyway?
Jacob is typing…
Jacob:
Unforgettable.
10 out of 10
Would come back.