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It was almost thirty minutes past two when San decided to grab a cab and go to the nearest Korean food restaurant he could find. He was supposed to be on the plane that takes him home to South Korea right now—if only it wasn’t delayed. He couldn’t possibly wait four hours at the airport doing nothing until his designated flight, so he decided to satisfy his hunger instead.
It had been a long time since he last stepped foot in New York—he couldn’t bring himself to, but apparently no one else in his company building is as capable of speaking English as he is. It took him a lot of mental preparation and self-doubting before he finally managed to say ‘Yes’, but then again, nothing could possibly go wrong, right? New York is big, it’s not like he has to go to that particular street from five years ago.
It’s not like his first love would magically reappear there as well.
And indeed, this past week has been great. He excels in his part—as always—and he’s too busy with papers and meetings to even be thinking about his life here back then. Everything’s fine.
At least until this very moment when his taxi started taking him to a road that feels too familiar, with a too familiar flower shop at the left side and a too familiar twin building across from it. Not to mention the too familiar murall left on one of the walls and the too familiar street sign that spells “Cornelia St.” .
San blinks a few times to make sure he sees right, that it wasn’t just a manifestation of his fear and longing that made him hallucinate about being there, and no matter how many times he blinks and wills away his hallucination it’s still the same view in front of his eyes.
Now he’s going past the bakery with the same blue neon sign as five years ago. If he still remembers clearly, then his old apartment would be right on the right side of the crossroad ahead. Their old apartment, he corrects himself.
He was a hair's breadth away from tapping the driver and telling him to go back to the airport, but right before the turn to that goddamn apartment they stopped.
“We’re here, sir”
And when he looks to the right, there it is. The goddamn Korean food restaurant he randomly picked. He can tell it’s new—at least not older than five years—cause the last time he’s here, it wasn’t there. He didn’t realize he was still staring outside quietly from his seat—unmoving—until the driver had to call him again to announce that they had arrived. He steeled his legs, then proceeded to walk out of the cab.
Some part of him keeps saying that he should walk to the apartment, climb up the stairs to the 4th floor and into room 26. Some part of him keeps telling him to walk away, get another cab and wait patiently at the airport.
His stomach, however, tells him that it’s empty and he should just walk the last four steps ahead to get into the motherfucking Korean restaurant and grab any kinds of food that would be acceptable. And to tell the truth, he was starving indeed. That’s why he tried as hard as he could to ignore the surroundings and just pretend he’s already back in Seoul, eating in his favorite BBQ stall.
He pushed the door then heard its chime ringing. Almost immediately, he can smell a freshly cooked bulgogi that only stirs up his hunger even more. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to actually eat here. Or so he thought, until someone—the place’s owner, most possibly—welcomed him with a voice that sounded—again— too familiar that it actually scares him.
Because it was indeed the exact same voice from five years ago.
“Welcome!”
And in that very moment, every part of him finally settled on a unanimous decision to run. Get out of this place. As fast as he can before the guy could see him. He started to turn around, reach out the door handle with his right hand and—
“San ?”
Oh fuck.
“San, is that actually you ?? It is ! Hey, Choi San from class 2016 ! Don’t act like you forget now, you asshole”
San immediately froze in his place. He knows at this point he should just turn around and face whatever future waits ahead of him, but he just can’t. He knows damn well that if he doesn’t turn around within the next five seconds than the guy would—
“Hey it’s me, Wooyoung!”
He looped his arm around San’s neck. A movement that was so natural five years ago but somehow feels so strange to him now. He can hear Wooyoung’s breath right against his ear, can feel Wooyoung’s chest against his back and Wooyoung’s voice keeps ringing in his head.
Suddenly he’s surrounded by so many things that spells Wooyoung and oh how overwhelming it was.
“Wait, it is the Choi San from class 2016, right ? cause as i remember, he was rather talkative,”
San closes his eyes, evens his breath then finally turns around
“It’s been a long time, Young-ah,”
He must’ve successfully mustered an okay enough smile, because the guy in front of him—Wooyoung—pulled him into a tight embrace that almost feels suffocating. Not because it was too tight, not because BBQ smoke started billowing inside the not-so-big-room.
It was because of Wooyoung.
Jung Wooyoung of class 2016, the orbit of his life, the first love he thought he had forgotten.
Questions start filling his head. Did Wooyoung come back here ? Did he actually run this place ? Had he never sold that apartment ?
“Come, sit, you must be starving,”
Before he could actually ask any of those questions, Wooyoung prompted him to the nearest seat, pulled the chair and let him sit there while the man walked back to grab his apron and cook.
It was supposed to be a harmless gesture, to be cooking in his own restaurant, but for San, the effect was immaculate. He could practically see the restaurant room shifted into that rusty, almost-empty vintage room where he and Wooyoung used to live in during their college days. He could easily imagine Wooyoung re-touching the discounted meat from a nearby supermarket that’s almost expired into a food that should actually belong in a michelin-starred restaurant. Wooyoung was a wonderful cook, and nothing he has ever eaten in his life could even nearly compare to Wooyoung’s food.
It’s amazing, he thought, how so many times have passed since then and this very man still has the exact same effect on him. Nothing less—maybe even more.
San is having this very strange urge to just walk up there and stand right behind Wooyoung to grab his waist, pull him into a tight back hug, kiss the nape of his neck and whisper how he missed him all these years.
He had almost done just that—if only Wooyoung hadn’t finished his dish right then. A whole portion of bulgogi, a plate of spicy stir-fried octopus leg, and two bowls of rice was brought right in front of him. It smelled so good and homey and he just wanted to cry for how familiar it must’ve tasted—even before actually eating it.
“There, dig in,” Wooyoung said as he poured two glasses of water and slid in to sit right in front of San.
With no hesitation, he finally grabs his bowl and chopstick and starts putting a piece of octopus leg into his mouth.
It still tastes the same, he can’t help but to cry.
He sniffled, then gulped the water that was served for him—as if he was crying due to the spicy-ness.
“Oh c’mon it’s not even that spicy,” Wooyoung mocked, but still walked to grab some more cold water from the fridge. He was always like this, San thought. Wooyoung is that friend who would laugh at you the loudest when you made some silly mistake (and keep bringing it up even after weeks) but he would also be the one to provide tissue and blanket and the warmest hug on your blue days.
And this past year for San, to be honest, has never been anything but blue.
“So, you build a restaurant here ?” San asks, trying to distract himself from his own mind.
Wooyoung just shrugged, “Always thought accounting wasn’t my cup of tea. I’d rather cook,”
San can’t help but laugh. “You rather excel three indeed,” He took another gulp of water before continuing, “I just never thought you’d come back here —of all place,”
At that, Wooyoung froze. He stopped chewing and just looked straight at San, unnerving the older guy.
“San-ah,” he said. “I never left,”.
Now, San is the one who freezes. He’s trying to say something, but words just wouldn’t come. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. Wooyoung sensed this, so he continued talking, “I just …. Can’t bring myself to—y’know? It’s our apartment after all. We had bought it with the money from our silly little gigs back then. It just— means a lot ….to me, at least,”
“But you said—”
“That i’d put that place on sale the moment you walk out the door? Well, yeah, it’s kinda embarrassing but that was my ego speaking. I was enraged and upset, and I thought that if you are going away still then i’d rather have the whole place burned down. Sadly that wasn’t an option, since—you know—it’s considered arson and all, so selling it was the best thing i could think of,”
Wooyoung lets out a heavy sigh, “Somebody did actually want to get the place though. They have surveyed and looked around, it only takes one sign on a paper before it would officially become theirs,”
San stayed silent. He doesn't know what to say, or how to respond to Wooyoung’s story. All over again, he feels like an asshole. He thinks back to their college years, when they wanted to leave their dorm so badly due to the too-early-curfew, but having no funds to actually afford a place. Some seniors told them about a new bar he and his friends are opening, and all Wooyoung and San had to do was to perform there from 8 to 10 PM. They were in a campus band, and the paycheck was decent enough—worth the efforts of climbing the giant oak tree at the back of the dorm to get inside past curfew—so they agreed.
It took them almost two years before they made enough money to purchase a humble apartment room downtown. It was old and dusty with an insufficient lighting system, but for San, living there was the best part of his four years of college.
Little did he know that it meant as much to Wooyoung as it does to him.
“But right before I step out to deliver the papers, you know what stopped me?” Wooyoung grabs his necklace, pulling it out from under his shirt. And right there, San sees, was the very ring they brought from a shady fortune teller tent near central park. The ring that looks exactly like San’s that is safely put in his wallet.
“This little dude fell from the front table, making a loud clink sound that echoes in the room. It rolled away, far under the table where my hands couldn't reach. The only way to grab it was to move the table, and guess what ?” Wooyoung looks amused as he’s telling this story to San, lips curving in a half smile. “It was nailed to the fucking wall.” he said, causing a loud, breathy laugh from San.
I remember that table, he wanted to say. I was the one who nailed it there cause it keeps rattling during heavy rain . He didn’t say anything though, prompting Wooyoung to continue.
“I definitely won’t go without my fortune ring that has been ‘blessed by the descendants of aborigin’s head chief himself’ , so i decided to get some help to move the table. But even then , the moving company I was trying to contact says that they’re on vacation for two whole months! It might sound funny now but I was quite frustrated back then, you know? It’s like—like the damn apartment wouldn’t just let me leave. Like I needed to stay there.”
Wooyoung looked down, fiddling with the ring in his fingers, smiling fondly, “So I did,” he said in a low voice.
As San remembers, Wooyoung had always been one to act according to his whims. He once bought a mini aquarium with cute colorful fish inside just because he saw it at Natgeo that morning and decided that it might be fun . Sadly he forgot that fish needs oxygen too, and just like that it died in two weeks (poor little fish).
San remembers the reason they even joined their campus band was because Wooyoung thinks it would be cool to perform in front of their friends. There was even one time where Wooyoung randomly rented an open-roof car (San forgot what car exactly) and drove them both to California, where San ended up driving home because Wooyoung was too drunk to even sit properly by the end of the day.
They’ve done the craziest shit and most of it was due to Wooyoung.
That’s why he wasn’t surprised when Wooyoung told him that the reason he put off selling the apartment was just because of a ring that fell under the table. He’s also positive that Wooyoung decided to run a barbeque house just because . He just never expected that his whims would bring them here, at this very place on Cornelia Street after all this time.
“So what brings you here?” Wooyoung’s voice woke him up. “Oh… it’s just.. you know, business trip and such. Kinda sucks being the only one who speaks English fluently in your company, but at least I got a free trip, right?”
The younger man chuckled, “Awww, our Sannie is big enough now to go on a business trip,” He reached out to pat his head. A very normal gesture between them, but San’s heart can’t help but skip a beat at that.
“Where will you be staying? Is it nearby? Oh! You can just stay at my place, then we can go walk around and get some bread. So many things have changed since then, i’ll close early and show you—”
“ Actually—” San cut him off. “I’m going back today. My flight is at 4,” and just like that, Wooyoung’s light dimmed out from his eyes.
“Oh… right ,” he said as he started cleaning up their dishes. “You must be busy, huh?”
Now Wooyoung is washing the dishes, back turned. San thinks it’s just because he was looking for some distraction. They’re both quiet, the only sound coming from the water on the sink.
He also realizes that Wooyoung has been the one doing so much talking this past hour. He had always been the noisier one between the two, but now, it’s just because San doesn’t really know what to talk about. Hell, he didn’t even know that he would even be seeing Wooyoung again. Not to mention only a few hours before his flight back home.
He supposed, he’s just caught off guard. He had confidently thought that he had moved on from his first love—whom now he likes to refer as college crush —but when the boy was standing right in front of him, all those efforts to move on, all the walls he had built these past five years felt like it’s crumbling down with a flick of the wrist.
He starts questioning himself. Why did he leave just like that? Why didn’t he confess everything to Wooyoung back then? Why didn’t he stay?
“I know it’s early, but do you wanna go to that downtown bar we used to go to? I could use some beer but I ran out of it,” Wooyoung finally finished washing his dishes then turned around to ask San.
San thinks for a moment, but right before he says sure , Wooyoung beats him to it. “Or do you have to go back to the airport now?”
He might not imply anything from it, but somehow, San can hear the underlying meaning behind Wooyoung’s worth.
Am I not worthy enough of your time? You really have to leave me again?
He shakes his head immediately then takes up Wooyoung's offer. “No, it’s fine. It would be great, yeah let’s go,”
It didn’t take long for Wooyoung to close up. He just had to make sure every electrics had been turned off, then rolled down the rolling door upfront. It only took a 15 minutes walk before they arrived.
Horizon . It has the same red neon light as from five years ago. Really, nothing much had changed, except for the paint on the front wall and the sound system that San noticed had been replaced.
It takes him back to the very night that leads him to the decision to leave New York.
He thinks it was around July, right after the last day of the final exam. San and Wooyoung and some of their friends from the band decided to let it loose and have some fun after days of endless studying. He had made up his mind back then that if he managed to get straight A’s for that semester, he would ask Wooyoung out.
It was such a shame that he had to go to the bathroom then come back at the very wrong time because right then he saw Wooyoung and Mingi kissing, and when Mingi asked if San would be okay with him kissing Wooyoung, he just shrugged, laughed it off and said, “Well, go ahead. Me and San are not a thing, it’s not like we’re dating or anything,” then proceed to grab another shot.
It wasn’t that Wooyoung said that they’re not dating—that part was true, at least not yet —but the dismissive tone in Wooyoung’s voice that somehow made it sound even more hurtful than it should. It’s like they didn’t matter.
It’s like he didn’t matter.
What could he expect anyway? Wooyoung was a literal ball of sunshine. A social butterfly, everyone loves him. He’s got so many options to choose from, why would he choose San? Was San even an option to begin with?
That also explains the baseball brochure he found lying on their shared bed. It was an offer to join a professional baseball team, meaning that Wooyoung would be away in another state for months long during quarantine. San really had no problem if that’s what Wooyoung truly wants, but that means he has to give up on their dream to do a tour with their band along the states when they graduate.
When San approached him and asked about it, he said that he just grabbed it randomly when the trainer visited their campus back then, not giving it a serious thought. He would’ve dismissed it and forget about the brochure if not for the fact that Mingi was also on the baseball team. Jealousy ate him like a fire, and he couldn’t think straight. He lashed out on Wooyoung, rambling on about how he wouldn’t share something like this to San, how he would ruin their dream, and Wooyoung—still oblivious as ever—returns the energy and says why couldn’t San support any choice he makes like what he used to say before. It gets heated to the point that San decided he would just go back to Korea after their graduation.
Thinking about it now, he can’t help but laugh. He could’ve handled the situation with a cold head. Just because your lifelong best friend and first love whom you share an apartment room, a bed, and a matching tattoo with doesn’t love you back, doesn’t mean the world is ending, right?
They sit down at the same spot as back then—a three-person red couch tucked safely right next to a jukebox—and drink. San hadn’t realized how he needed this glass of beer as well.
“By the way, how’s Mingi?” San dared asking. Wooyoung cocked a brow at that, but answers anyway, “Last time i heard from him was around two months ago, i guess? He said he’s getting married and will be spending his honeymoon here with his husband. Though I don't really know what’s the charm of New York except for Broadway and the Statue of Liberty. Maybe his husband’s into that. Why ask?”
Wait, what? His husband?
“His husband? You guys broke up?
Now, Wooyoung looks just as confused, “ What?”
“I thought, you and Mingi— you guys weren’t a thing?”
Wooyoung looks completely incredulous. “Me? And Mingi ? You should’ve been asking why you and me aren’t a thing, but Mingi??? Seriously???”
“But I saw you back then, you were kissing . Right after our final exam, and didn’t you get into that baseball team because Mingi was there?” Wooyoung gulped the rest of his beer then slammed his glass hard on the table.
He forgot that San could be quite an idiot sometimes.
“San-ah, look at me,” he said, cupping San’s face with his hands to turn it his way. “You’re telling me that the reason you suddenly left on our graduation day was because you think I'm dating Mingi ?”
San was—again—caught off guard. He’s strugglings for words, and apparently Wooyoung wouldn’t just let it slide before San gives him any clarification. “Do you really expect me to stay and bear to watch you kissing someone else? Dating someone that isn’t me?” he brushed off Wooyoung’s hand from his face. Liquid courage spurs him on. “I know that you thought of us as nothing back then, that i was just a roommate to you, that i shouldn’t have expected more of us, but what am i supposed to do when i was so fucking in love with you?!” it finally slipped out of his mouth. He can’t stop himself now, the next words he says kinda just overflowed.
“Why do you think i get this fucking tatto? Why do I always clean up after the mess you make in our apartment? Why did I agree to get a cherry flavored ice cream pint instead of the chocolate one even though I hate cherry? Why—” San inhaled, “Why do you think I was so reluctant to come back here, to this very city, to this very street that screams your name everywhere I look?” he sniffled a little. He would blame it on the alcohol later.
Wooyoung was breathless, his eyes started tearing up, “San..”
“I was in love with you, Wooyoung. I still am, probably. I’ve kept it for a long time like an idiot because I was afraid you don’t feel the same way, afraid that if I do tell you then it would change whatever it was that we had back then. I thought—” San paused. He didn’t know when exactly he stood up, panting. Wooyoung still sits quietly at his place, eyes staring expectantly at San.
“You know what? Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” San ran a hand through his face before grabbing his bag, preparing to leave. “I gotta go. It was nice seeing—”
“ I was in love with you too!”
Wooyoung screamed when San started turning away, efficiently causing him to stop. “Do you really think i stayed in that goddamn old apartment just because of a fucking ring? Oh, fuck the baseball team, why do you think I ran a restaurant here?”
They were lucky that the bar wasn’t crowded. Otherwise, they would’ve gathered so much attention from how loud Wooyoung was yelling at him.
“I couldn’t leave because there was one of the pics we took together taped tightly to the wall and if I tried to yank it away it would be ruined. I ran a restaurant because i remember how you said you think my food is better than any takeouts and every fucking day i keep cooking one portion too much and it’s just so fucking pathetic .” Tears flow down freely from Wooyoung’s eyes now and oh how it pained San to see him. He thought about all those years Wooyoung spent alone in the living space that used to be theirs . He remembers the food Wooyoung cooked him earlier was his favorite, spicy stir-fried octopus legs. He tries to reach out to Wooyoung, but the younger boy starts talking again.
“Back then I said we weren’t a thing, because it was true , and I didn't want to discomfort you by announcing to everyone that we are. I was trying not to gatekeep you but damn, how i fucking want to. And all these years I thought you left because you hate me, or because i did something wrong that makes you feel disgusted to so much as looking at my face but turns out you were just a fucking idiot! ” Wooyoung absolutely ran out of breath when he finished his sentence. He hung his head low, fist tucked at his sides. San can see his chest heaving as he tries to steady his breath.
Wooyoung snorted when he catched a glimpse of his watch, “You should probably go back to the air—”
“ Can I kiss you?” San cuts his word. Wooyoung looks up, meeting his gaze. He was surprised to see San’s eyes glistening with unshed tears, chest moving up and down in the same rhythm as his. Smiling, he answered in a low voice. “ You’ll miss your flight,”
And again, San understands the underlying meaning behind it. The 5 years they’[ve been apart doesn’t seem to dull his senses regarding everything that is Wooyoung .
Don’t leave again. Stay here, stay with me.
“ To hell with the flight, i need to get my lips on yours within the next five seconds or i’m gonna die,” he said before finally closing the distance between them, crashing his lips against Wooyoung’s. It started slowly, with one of his hands on Wooyoung’s cheek and the other on his waist. He had wanted to do this forever and it feels so maddening now that he actually gets to kiss Wooyoung, the love of his life. The love he can’t seem to shake even after years away from him. It was kind of a shame that humans needed to breathe, because then he had to break the kiss. He wanted more. So much more , he’ll never get enough.
Wooyoung leans on his forehead, panting softly. “We have so many things to talk about,” he whispered.
San nodded in agreement, stealing a light peck before replying, “ Let’s go home, then”
There had been so many places he refers to as home . His parent’s place at Namhae, his apartment at Gangnam, even the small space in his company building where he used to take a nap when nobody sees.
Even then, there hadn’t been any place that felt more like home than the apartment room 426 on 23 Cornelia Street. There hadn’t been anyone that felt more like home other than Wooyoung .