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“Who do you think they are to each other?”
It’s 3AM and they’re on the fire escape of Jaehyun’s apartment, a rundown studio located right outside their university campus. A half-empty bottle of plum-flavored soju occupies the space between them, their third of the night. Jaehyun’s cheeks are flushed, red from the alcohol and the lingering summer heat. Hints of crimson creep up to the tips of his ears, a telltale sign that he’s somewhere between tipsy and drunk. Taesan knows he isn’t faring any better.
He follows his line of vision and settles on a duo standing across the street. The man has a small luggage with him, the woman empty-handed. A lone street lamp washes them in a golden hue, away from the quiet dark, a spotlight for a show they’re unaware they’re partaking in.
“That couple over there?”
“Mm.” Jaehyun nods. “What’s their story?”
It’s always like this whenever they drink together. They sit and people-watch, play God by making up all kinds of scenarios for strangers they’ll never see again. Who they are, what they’re doing, where they’ll end up. It’s a habit they picked up as kids, back when the world was so big and they were filled with unquenched curiosity. Jaehyun tends to get all philosophical, filled with wonder and whimsy, while Taesan listens intently, occasionally contributing his own takes.
Taesan looks in their direction again. They’re locked in an embrace, now, clinging to each other and not saying a word. It’s so raw, so intimate. He almost feels like they shouldn’t be witnessing this exchange.
“I don’t know.” He pauses and takes a sip of alcohol. The acidity burns his throat and warms his chest. “Lovers maybe.”
Jaehyun hums thoughtfully, leaning his head on the younger’s shoulder. He stiffens at the sudden proximity before willing his body to relax.
“Or… they’re breaking up.” Jaehyun lifts a finger and points; Taesan promptly swats his hand down. “Only the guy has a suitcase.”
“He could be going on a trip,” he counters.
“And never come back.”
Taesan lets out a dry laugh, nudging him. “That’s cynical. For you especially.”
Jaehyun shrugs. “Just listing all the possibilities.”
A taxi pulls up to their street. The man opens the door and slowly places all his belongings inside. As he’s about to climb in himself, he hesitates, turning to say something to her.
They’re at a standstill.
Jaehyun lifts his head, Taesan inches closer to the railing. The two of them watch with bated breath to see if something, anything, will happen. Will he leave? Will she beg him to stay?
It’s the former.
The woman watches as the car drives away and turns a corner. She stares forlornly at the empty road, an empty shell of a person. She waits as if the man will suddenly change his mind and the taxi will return. After a painstaking minute, reality sets in. They watch as she slowly makes her way toward her building down the street, moving like her body is on autopilot. Neither of them says anything when they hear her let out a choked sob. It’s guttural and painful and it rings deep into the night, and all they can do is watch as her figure gets smaller and smaller.
Jaehyun was right.
They sit in the stillness that follows afterward, mourning a heartbreak that wasn’t their own. They pass the bottle back and forth and take small sips, fixated on the street lamp that still shines on the now-empty pavement. Jaehyun grabs his hand. Taesan lets him.
“Do you think they have inyeon?” Jaehyun suddenly asks.
Providence. Fated encounters. Past lives.
It’s not the first time they’ve had this conversation. Jaehyun has always been the more romantic one between the two of them, fantasizing about soulmates and first meetings and unconditional love. Inyeon was one of the many ideologies he had clung to, a romanticist’s take on Buddhist reincarnation. Brushing past each other in the street, making eye contact on the train, the familiarity of a complete stranger— it’s the universe’s way of communicating that yes, this person meant something to you before and they have followed you into a new lifetime.
Taesan is a realist. He knows that inyeon is something people use as a seduction technique, a corny pickup line to create chemistry with a potential love interest. There’s no sustenance, no proof that it exists. An abstract concept.
But then he thinks back to the woman, broken and crying over a goodbye. How he was able to feel her hurt despite not knowing anything about her.
“Yeah,” he answers. He means it.
There’s a beat of silence. Taesan takes another sip.
“What about us?” He sets the bottle down, empty now. His hand is still in his hold. “Do you think we’re bonded in our past lives?”
Taesan turns his head and finds that Jaehyun is already looking at him. He’s gorgeous, illuminated by the pale glow of the moonlight, skin smooth like glass and the entire galaxy in his eyes. There’s a gentle tenderness in his gaze, something he knows is reserved especially for him, for moments like these. It’s as if he already knows the answer but wants to hear Taesan say it himself.
Taesan may not believe in destiny or soulmates or inyeon, but Jaehyun makes him a dreamer. He’s known him for as long as he can remember, and he couldn’t fathom what life would be like without him in it. Their lives are intertwined, woven together with soft hands and the red string of fate. They’ve been through so much together that Taesan couldn’t tell you where he ended and Jaehyun began. From scraped-up knees to missing teeth, first loves to first heartbreaks, Jaehyun has borne witness to it all. He's always been there, and he's here to stay.
He thinks about what they are, what they could be, what they have been. Best friends, lovers, enemies. It didn’t matter.
He knows he’d chase after him in every lifetime.
“I do.”
Jaehyun gives his hand a firm squeeze, and Taesan knows that he feels the same.