Chapter Text
Who was he kidding?
Nothing was ever going to change in his life.
He didn’t bother to switch on the lights as he dragged himself inside his apartment. He threw his laptop bag in the direction where he assumed the plastic wrapped couch was, the soft thud letting him know that it landed somewhere safely, as he headed towards the bedroom.
If the apartment had a voice, it would have tsk-ed at its new owner in disdain. Boxes strewn around unpacked, furniture under wraps, lights shunned. Take out boxes dumped in the garbage disposal, often unopened. Only the incessant whirring of the air conditioner letting the walls know that there was a person living under this desolate roof. One would think two weeks was a long enough time for the owner to bring the house under some semblance of order. If the apartment could, it would contemplate what was the purpose of leasing such a prime property in the city if there was no intention to make it a home.
It wasn’t for the lavish space, or the state-of-the-art amenities. It certainly wasn’t for the view of the Han from the bedroom windows, because the blinds stayed shut throughout the day. This apartment simply served an agenda. An agenda to provide its owner a refuge. A refuge from the world outside.
A refuge, the pursuit of which, had eluded Seokjin so far.
He groaned as he plopped down on the bed. His work clothes abandoned on the floor, his pyjamas waiting on the corner of the bed right where he had left them. What had really made him think that moving to Seoul would be any different? Accepting that transfer from New York to Seoul wasn’t going to fill the void in his life like he had foolishly hoped for. Connecting to his roots, was it? He scoffed at his naïve idealism. He was an outsider in New York. He was an outsider in Seoul.
A shrill sounding alarm from his phone brought him pulled him back from his thoughts. It was 10pm. With an uncharacteristic urgency, he quickly wore his pyjamas and walked over to the window. The otherwise ignored blinds were pulled up, a chair set down, and the window was opened just enough to not hinder his view of the building adjacent to his apartment complex.
Right at 10:05pm, like clockwork, the door on that building rooftop opened and someone walked out. He walked towards the corner that faced Seokjin’s building. Setting down his duffel on the floor, he pulled over his oversized hoodie and let it drop on the bag. Taking a hairband out of his track pant pocket, he tied up his hair in a bun and then set his headphones on over his ears. A lone lamp light shone over face. He was beautiful. So was his purpose of being on this rooftop.
One arm slowly extended forward, a wrist turned upwards and glided over his head. He had struck his opening pose. Poised, graceful, steady. Then the music began and the person let go. Like an arrow released from a tight strung bow. Sharp and purposeful, his body moved in the most stunning form Seokjin had ever seen.
He looked like he was in his 20s, maybe mid-20s. He was probably as tall as Seokjin. His right arm was covered in tattoos it seemed. A strong built with a slim waist, he had a good physique for sure. After all he was a dancer. A stunning dancer at that. If asked Seokjin wouldn’t be able to tell you the shape of eyes or the curve of his lips. But there was something that shone of his face that made Seokjin stand here in his bedroom window, night after night watching him dance, in rapt attention. Since the first night he had been in the apartment. Since the first time he chanced upon this person dancing his heart out on the rooftop.
The lights of his apartment were off as usual. Hopefully the dancer would remain unaware of Seokjin’s presence. If he did happen to chance in Seokjin’s direction, all he would be able to see was a desolate apartment overlooking the rooftop. However, what Seokjin could see was someone dancing with such abandon that the world would stop spinning on its axis just to see this person pirouette. The ease and flow of movements lulled Seokjin into a comfortable haze and yet kept him on the edge. He held his breath, not allowing even a sigh escape. Even though they were a few feet apart, his bedroom window slightly above the rooftop’s line of view, he was still scared to make himself known in any way. Scared that if he was caught that person would have him stop watching. Even worse, what if he stopped dancing here? What if he walked away and left that rooftop barren of his presence. Seokjin couldn’t let that happen. He was a creature of habit after all.
Routines were safe. Routines were comfortable. People could say he was boring. In fact, people did say he was boring. He heard all those whispers behind his back at work. It didn’t bother Seokjin in the least. It wasn’t in his power to influence how others thought about him. They were entitled to their opinion about his lack lustre life. But at least he was consistent. He got the work done. He showed up every day without fail. Didn’t that count for something? It should, if you asked Seokjin. He was doing his best, no matter what others said.
It was much easier to give in to the monotony of his routine than struggle against the winds of change. His routine gave him the momentum to get through the day. The same style of shirt he wore to office, the same route he took, the same newspaper stand he stopped by, the same set lunch he ate at the office cafeteria, the same café near his office that he stopped by in the evening, the same coffee he ordered, the same sandwich he ate for dinner – and these past couple of weeks, watching the same someone dance on the rooftop across his bedroom window. Every night, same time and same place, for one short but really momentous hour. He didn’t want anything more than that. He didn’t need anything more than that. Just watching him dance daily, on that rooftop across his building, was enough for Seokjin. Why pursue the unknown? Familiarity of his routine was his only haven. Why would he stir the calm waters of his existence by seeking out something that would never be part of his world?
Because who was he really kidding, nothing was ever going to change in his life.
Right?
Right?