Chapter Text
Jaemin thinks he can be forgiven for not noticing him until the luncheon. He’s a little preoccupied during the service, and the pews in the whole church are packed. Jaemin thinks half the island’s come to see his father off, and it’s still only a fraction of the people who came to the visitation last night. Jaemin’s father was a community man, and the community has turned out to pay their final respects. Once the funeral is over, there are plenty of people who wish to speak to him and to Jisung, and he’s in a bit of a hurry to get back to the hotel to make sure everything’s ready. He just doesn’t have time to identify every single person who’s shown up.
In the end, it’s not even him who initially notices. He’s busy once he gets to the hotel as well, checking on the food and seeing that everything’s properly set up, and once he finally gets a chance to sit down he’s not paying attention to much other than taking a moment to breathe. He hasn’t even gotten anything to eat yet. Honestly, he’s not even hungry, and he skipped breakfast. Mark appears at his side, asking if he should make him up a plate, and it’s very sweet of him, but Jaemin shakes his head.
“I’ll get something in a minute,” he says, even though he’s not sure that he will. Mark nods and goes to get in line, but it’s only another few moments before he’s replaced by Shotaro.
“You should eat something,” Shotaro says, a much firmer approach than Mark’s.
“I will,” Jaemin says, and it’s not really a lie, because he’s sure he will eventually. Starving himself isn’t really on the agenda. There’s too much other shit to get done.
“You didn’t have breakfast, did you?” Shotaro asks.
Jaemin frowns. “What, do you have X-ray vision into my stomach and intestines or something?”
“That’d be really gross,” Shotaro replies. “And I don’t need to have X-ray vision to know you had so much on your mind this morning that you didn’t eat anything.”
Sometimes it’s fun that Shotaro’s so good at this. It can be kind of cool to be so clearly on the same wavelength as someone else, to have someone who doesn’t always have to be told and can just do, can just know.
This is not one of those times.
“It’s been a busy day already,” Jaemin says. “But I’ll be fine. I’m just not really all that hungry right now.”
“I’m gonna go get you something,” Shotaro says. “You don’t have to eat it, but it’ll make me feel better if there’s at least food on the table in front of you.”
Jaemin chuckles. “Can you save this energy for Jisung? I really think he’s only had, like, two proper meals these past few days.”
They’ve both had a lot to worry about lately, and Jaemin can’t follow Jisung around all day and all night. He’s a grown man. He can make his own decisions, even if they’re not smart ones.
“He’s really taking it hard, huh?” Shotaro says quietly, and Jaemin doesn’t really think it’s a question. But by this point, Shotaro knows Jisung almost as well as he knows Jaemin. And any random person might be able to guess that a child might struggle with the death of a parent, even one that was seen well in advance.
“It’s Jisung,” Jaemin says with a shrug that’s almost helpless, but he knows Shotaro knows what he means. Jisung was Daddy’s little boy before he even made it home from the hospital.
“I’ll get something for him,” Shotaro says. “Where is he?”
“Bathroom,” Jaemin replies. Jisung excused himself a few minutes ago, and Jaemin thinks perhaps he just needed a little time to compose himself before continuing with the afternoon.
Shotaro nods. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Something stops him before he can get even three steps away. He looks at Jaemin, looks at something across the room, then looks at Jaemin again. “Uh, Jaemin? Did you invite anyone from college to this?”
Jaemin furrows his eyebrows. “I didn’t really invite anyone. I put the details online, but I don’t even really talk to anyone from college besides you. Why? Who’s here?”
Jaemin scans the room, but he’s not even sure who he’s looking for, and there are people everywhere.
“Uh, no one,” Shotaro says. “Except—and don’t freak out—but, um, isn’t that Jeno?”
“What?” Jaemin says sharply, trying to follow Shotaro’s gaze. There’s absolutely no way Jeno’s here. Shotaro has to be seeing things—oh. Oh, no. No, that’s—that’s Jeno. Standing awkwardly in the corner of the room like he doesn’t know what he should be doing.
“Oh my God, that’s Jeno,” Jaemin says.
“Yeah,” Shotaro agrees.
“Oh my God, what the hell is he doing here?”
“I told you not to freak out.”
“I’m not freaking out, I’m—freaking out, what the hell is he doing here?”
Shotaro shrugs, looking bewildered. “I don’t know, you said you put the details online.”
“Yeah, on Facebook. I’m not even friends with him on Facebook. And even if I was, why the hell would he come? We haven’t spoken in years.”
More than a decade, in fact. Doesn’t seem that long sometimes, but time flies when you’re taking care of your ailing father and trying to keep the family business from collapsing all around you.
“I have no idea what to tell you,” Shotaro says. “Maybe he…heard from a friend of a friend of a friend and…thought he’d check in on you.”
“Now?”
“I don’t know.” Shotaro pauses. “Maybe it’s not really him. Do you know anyone who looks like Jeno?”
“I don’t think so,” Jaemin says, though he’s pretty sure he doesn’t. He’d remember if he knew someone who looked that much like Jeno. It may have been a long time since he last saw him, but Jaemin would never forget that face. “Maybe my dad did?”
It’s possible. Jaemin certainly doesn’t know every person who knew his father. But the resemblance is uncanny if it’s not really Jeno. Even his posture and the way he’s holding himself—that’s pure uncomfortable Jeno.
“Fuck, why is he here?” Jaemin groans.
“Well, my best guess is to pay his respects,” Shotaro says.
“He didn’t even know my dad!”
“No, but he knew you. And I doubt he just stumbled in here on accident, even though he does kind of look like he did.”
Shotaro’s right about that. Jeno really does look like he doesn’t even know how he ended up here.
“Oh my God,” Jaemin says in dismay.
“You want me to ask him to leave?” Shotaro asks.
“That would be rude.”
“It’s your dad’s funeral lunch. I think you’re allowed to decide if you don’t want someone here.”
“No, no, it’s…fine. It was a long time ago. He can stay and eat if he wants to. Or just…stand there looking awkward. It’s not a big deal.”
It kind of feels like a big deal. Jaemin hasn’t seen Jeno since he came back to the island. Hasn’t really had anything to do with him since even before that. And Jeno doesn’t live here. He can’t even get here without getting on a boat or a plane.
“Oh, God,” Jaemin says, eyes widening. “What if he’s staying here?”
Shotaro winces a little.
“He has to be staying somewhere, doesn’t he?” Jaemin says. “Well, maybe he has a late flight tonight, but he must’ve gotten in sometime yesterday if he wanted to be sure to make the funeral—unless he wasn’t at the funeral—I never made it back here after the visitation last night, he could’ve snuck in then and I’d have had no idea—”
“One thing at a time, Jaeminie,” Shotaro says. “I’m sure he won’t be here long if he is staying here. And it’s your hotel, not your extra bedroom. You can avoid him if you want to.”
“Right,” Jaemin says. He’s being dramatic. This was unexpected, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. It’s all water under the bridge by now anyway.
“You want me to stay here a while longer?” Shotaro asks. Jaemin hesitates, but shakes his head.
“No, go get something to eat. I’m fine.”
Shotaro nods. “Alright.”
Shotaro goes to get in line for food, and Jaemin sits, trying not to look back in Jeno’s direction. It’s a lot easier said than done, especially since Jeno looks so out of place. Jaemin keeps waiting for him to go sit down somewhere or get in the food line or just bail altogether or something, but he just keeps standing where he is, looking around, stiff and uncomfortable. Jaemin almost wants to go talk to him just to save him from himself, but he also really doesn’t want to do that. He has no idea what he would even say to Jeno at this point, besides asking him what the fuck he’s doing here. Beyond that, he’s at a loss.
As he keeps looking back, it’s almost inevitable when Jeno eventually meets his eyes. Jaemin looks away, so fast that he doesn’t even know how Jeno reacts to their gazes meeting. He’s not even sure it happened. Maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe Jeno was looking at something else nearby. Jaemin’s too nervous to look again, afraid he might see Jeno coming his way—for the first time all morning, Jaemin’s alone, and he doesn’t really want Jeno to take that as an invitation—he doesn’t feel any more certain of what he would say to Jeno even if Jeno started the conversation—
Jaemin startles as Mark sits down next to him. He found Jisung somewhere, because he’s on Mark’s other side.
“Uh, hey,” Mark says, looking a little amused. He must’ve noticed the way Jaemin jolted. “You okay?”
“What?” Jaemin says, a little too quickly. “I’m fine.”
“Um, okay,” Mark says, clearly not buying it, but he’s nice enough to not push it. Instead, he slides his plate a little closer to Jaemin. “I took a lot. You can have some if you want.”
He has extra chopsticks, Jaemin notices. He definitely didn’t believe Jaemin when he said he’d get food in a minute.
He’s very sweet. He’s always been very sweet, ever since they were kids.
Jaemin takes the chopsticks to make him happy, and then he looks past him to Jisung, who’s staring off into the distance like he’s zoning out. He doesn’t have a plate of his own. Jaemin’s not surprised.
“I tried to get him to take at least a little something,” Mark says in a low voice. “He said he wasn’t hungry.”
Jaemin shrugs. “Shotaro will come back and make sad boba eyes at him until he eats something. That’ll get him.”
No one likes it when Shotaro pouts, and he knows it. It’d be awful, but he uses it sparingly.
Mark nods. Jaemin looks at the food on his plate, trying to decide if any of it looks appetizing. He likes everything there, in theory. It all just doesn’t seem very appealing right now.
Jaemin supposes he can’t blame Jisung for not wanting to eat. He doesn’t either.
Nevertheless, Jaemin forces himself to take a little bit of chicken. He can see Mark smile a little when he does, though it’s subtle. The chicken tastes like rubber to him, but Jaemin really doesn’t think it’s the fault of the cook’s. He doesn’t really think it actually has anything to do with the food at all.
Shotaro returns eventually, two plates in his hands, and he sets one down in front of Jisung, who blinks down at it like he doesn’t even know what it is. “You should eat something,” Shotaro says, and it’s more a request than a demand, because a demand would make Jisung shut down and ignore him. Shotaro knows that. “You must be hungry. Have you been eating?”
Jiusng mumbles something as Shotaro sits down next to him. They continue to talk to each other in low voices, too low for Jaemin to hear, but he has no doubt Jisung will eventually cave to what Shotaro wants. Shotaro’s good at getting just about anyone to do things that they should, even when they don’t want to, and he’s especially good with people he knows well, people like Jisung. People like Jaemin, as well. Shotaro looks away from Jisung for only a moment, sees Jaemin taking little bits of food off of Mark’s plate, and looks back to Jisung with an expression that seems slightly satisfied. He wouldn’t have been done with Jaemin if he’d come back here to find him not eating. Likely the only reason he didn’t come back with three plates is that it would’ve been too many to put together and carry by himself.
In fact, if Jaemin knows Shotaro, the plate sitting in front of him right now was probably for Jaemin, not Shotaro. He’s sweet too, like Mark. Everyone else always comes first.
Just as Jaemin predicted, after a few more moments, Jisung picks up the chopsticks Shotaro brought for him and starts to pick at his food. He’s only eating little pieces, but Jaemin’s calling it a win. Jaemin’s not doing much more himself, so it’s not really time for him to judge right now. And it’s not like there’s anything he can do to convince Jisung to eat more. At another time, maybe, but Jisung’s still giving him a bit of the cold shoulder.
But Jaemin can’t worry about it today, of all days. Jisung’s upset about a lot of things right now. He’ll recover in time.
“You look tired,” Mark says softly to Jaemin after a moment. “You going home after this?”
Jaemin snorts. “Yeah, right. I’ve taken enough time off already. There’s way too much shit that needs to get done right now for me to not be working.”
Mark smiles crookedly. “Isn’t that what you have all these employees for?”
Jaemin chuckles, and in his head he’s already having this same conversation with Jisung, except he’s on the other side of it. He’ll tell Jisung he should go home and get some rest, Jisung will probably tell him to piss off, considering the mood he’s been in lately, and Jaemin will have to try to explain why it’s totally different that he himself isn’t going home, but Jisung still should.
Jaemin will lose, Jisung will follow Shotaro around for the rest of the day, justifiably complaining about Jaemin being a hypocrite, Shotaro will play his usual role of neutral mediator, and no one will be happy once it’s actually time to go home. Maybe Jaemin will just skip a few steps. Spare Shotaro, at least.
“Isn’t it wrong for the captain to abandon ship with the crew still aboard?” Jaemin says.
Mark rolls his eyes. “I think your crew would understand. You’ve had a hard few days.”
Jaemin can only chuckle again, halfheartedly, because he doesn’t really know what to say. It’s been more than a hard few days, but Mark knows that.
“I don’t know what I’d do with myself sitting at home,” Jaemin says finally. “Might as well keep busy.”
“I think you’ve just got control issues,” Mark says teasingly. “You don’t trust anyone else to do anything.”
“I trust you to fix everything around here,” Jaemin points out. He’s pouting. He’s not sure why that is.
“Alright, fair enough,” Mark says. “Still, I think that might have to do with the fact that you don’t even know how to do half the shit I do around here.”
“Shut up,” Jaemin says, fighting a smile. To be fair, Mark’s not wrong. Jaemin’s never been especially handy, and he’s never had to be. Jaemin’s dad wasn’t all that handy either, but he had Mark’s parents for that. Now Jaemin has Mark.
Everything just kind of cycles through here on the island, or at least this part of it. You do what your parents did, you live where your parents lived, you get placed six feet underground in the plot right next to theirs when you’re dead. It’s very simple. At least Jaemin will be a little different, because his dad was cremated.
“If you could do it all yourself,” Mark continues, “I’d be out my best customer.”
“Well, you’re expensive,” Jaemin says, which is just a dirty, rotten lie. All of Mark’s rates are very reasonable, and he never lets Jaemin pay full price. Mark’s one of the least expensive things about this hotel.
“It’s a tough economy,” Mark says, good-natured. “Oh, shit, do you want something to drink? I forgot about that.”
Jaemin shakes his head and waves a hand. “I’ll get something in a minute.”
Mark snorts. “Yeah, right, you will. Do you want water? I’ll get you some water.”
Mark gets to his feet, heading over to where all the beverages are set up. Jaemin can only laugh a little to himself, because he supposes he deserved that. That’s what he said about the food too, and now here he is, eating off of Mark’s plate.
And Mark doesn’t mind.
As Jaemin waits for Mark to return, his eyes go back to the corner of the room all on their own, but Jeno isn’t standing there anymore. Jaemin looks around, but he’s not sure where he’s disappeared to. Maybe he left. It would make things a lot simpler if he had.
But it would be very strange for him to come all this way and not say a word.
Mark returns, and Jaemin tries not to think about it. If Jeno’s still here, at worst, they’ll talk a little bit, catch up. Find out what’s going on each other’s lives nowadays. If it goes on too long, Jaemin can just say that he’s terribly busy and needs to get back to work. It won’t even be a complete lie. There are always things that need to be done, especially this time of year. But Jaemin can talk to Jeno. He’s not a total drama queen, he doesn’t need to dwell on things that happened years ago. Jeno wasn’t a bad guy, he was just…scared. Or confused, or something like that. He was a kid, and he didn’t have it all figured out yet. Hardly an unforgivable offense.
Jaemin was a kid too, and he sure as hell didn’t have it all figured out. Still doesn’t.
The afternoon passes slowly as Jaemin talks mostly with Mark, pausing here and there as people come up to the table to give their last condolences to him and Jisung before they leave. Jisung and Shotaro remain basically in their own little world even though they’re still at the same table, and Jaemin has a feeling that’s more Jisung’s fault than Shotaro’s, but it’s alright. It’s better than Jisung ignoring everyone all afternoon.
Jaemin doesn’t see Jeno again, though he can’t help but look every once in a while, especially as the crowd thins out. Maybe he really did leave. Maybe that split-second eye contact was enough to make him question his whole decision to come here.
Maybe Jaemin and Shotaro had a joint hallucination and he wasn’t here at all. Who knows?
It takes a while, but eventually the only people left in the room are people who work here at the hotel—or sort of work here, in Mark’s case. Jaemin and Jisung don’t have any family left except for each other now that their father’s gone, but the people at the hotel are kind of like pseudo-family. Many of them have been here since Jaemin and Jisung were kids, or are children of people who used to work here. They don’t get a whole lot of new blood here. New faces who do come to the island to try to break into the hotel business go to one of the bigger, fancier, chain hotels for employment, not to some hundred-year-old, family-owned place that’s certainly starting to show its age. That’s life, Jaemin supposes. Bigger is better and shinier and can afford to pay more money.
Jaemin sticks around to help clean everything up, feeling weariness settling into his bones the way it has been in the afternoon hours these past few weeks, maybe even months. He’s not yet thirty-three, but sometimes he feels like he might be eighty. Age caught up with him fast, age he doesn’t even have yet. He’s pretty sure he’s already been seeing gray hairs.
Half of him is reconsidering not just going home once he’s done here. He’s tired. He’s been tired for a while. He hasn’t been sleeping well since maybe, like, his early twenties. But there’s always so much that needs to get done, and he’s been away from the hotel a lot lately.
Jaemin’s helping wash off the tables when Wonbin, one of the children of a previous employee and recent addition to the reception desk, walks into the room. He looks a bit awkward, but to be fair, he frequently looks a bit awkward. He walks to Jaemin, and Jaemin just has a feeling he’s not going to like whatever it is Wonbin’s about to say.
“Um, hi, Mr. Na,” Wonbin says.
“Wonbin, I’m literally begging you to call me Jaemin,” Jaemin says. Wonbin’s, like, two years younger than him or something. They’ve known each other since they were kids. Jaemin has no idea why he thinks he has to call him “Mr. Na” now that he’s working here.
“Um, right,” Wonbin says. “Sorry. Uh, listen, I don’t mean to bother you—I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now—but there’s a man out in the lobby who’s just kinda…pacing, I guess, and I’ve asked a couple times if there’s anything I can do for him, but he says he’s fine, but—well, he won’t stop pacing. And I think he came from in here earlier, and he sort of acts like he wants to come back in, but he never actually does, and I think he’s starting to freak out some of the other guests.”
Jaemin thinks he’s starting to freak Wonbin out too, based on his demeanor. Jaemin sighs. Shotaro looks up from another table he's cleaning.
“Jeno?” he asks.
“Oh, probably,” Jaemin says. He can’t imagine who else it would be, or what they would be doing if it wasn’t Jeno.
“Who’s Jeno?” Wonbin asks.
“Just an old—acquaintance,” Jaemin says. “I wasn’t expecting to see him here today. Alright, Wonbin, I’ll take care of it.”
“You want me on standby?” Shotaro asks. “Like if you’re not back in five minutes, I’ll come running out saying a tablecloth caught on fire or something?”
Jaemin snorts. “No, that’s alright. I can handle it.”
“Alright,” Shotaro says, nodding. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”
“I won’t,” Jaemin promises, walking to the door. He hesitates when he gets there, considering. “Taro?”
“Yeah?”
“Make it ten minutes. And go with something subtler than a fire.”
Shotaro smirks a little and gives a mock salute. “Sure thing.”
Jaemin walks out of the room, and sure enough, there’s Jeno in the lobby, pacing back and forth, just like Wonbin said. Jaemin quietly tells Wonbin to go back to the desk, but that’s enough to get Jeno’s attention. He turns, his eyes widening when he sees Jaemin. He seems absolutely shocked, like he didn’t know Jaemin was here. Impossible, of course, but that’s how he looks.
“Hi, Jeno,” Jaemin says calmly.
“Hi, Jaemin,” Jeno says, still all wide-eyed and surprised.
“Are you okay?” Jaemin asks. “I’ve heard you’re starting to make the other guests nervous.”
Jeno cringes. “Oh, sorry. I’ve just, um…well, I’ve just been thinking. About—stuff. I guess I pace when I have a lot on my mind.”
That must be a new habit. Jaemin doesn’t remember it. Or maybe he’s just forgotten.
“Can I help you with something?” Jaemin asks.
“No,” Jeno says immediately, shaking his head, before he seems to reconsider. “Well—I-I mean—I guess I did want to talk to you.”
“You did?”
“I do. I do want to talk to you. I mean, obviously. You already know that.”
Jaemin smiles politely, hoping it doesn’t look forced. It doesn’t feel forced, but he can never be sure. “Yeah,” he says. “I can’t believe you came all this way. You didn’t know my dad.”
“Well, no, but—of course I was gonna come. I—I wouldn’t have left you hanging like that.”
Jaemin frowns a little, a bit confused by his word choice, but he supposes it’s not a big deal. “I wouldn’t have been hurt. How did you find out?”
Now Jeno frowns, looking confused himself. “What do you mean? I—I got your letter—”
“My what?” Jaemin says, the words falling out of his mouth before he can even think about stopping them. Not that he would have.
“Your letter?” Jeno says. “I was definitely surprised to see it, but it was nice to hear from you, and—”
“Jeno,” Jaemin interrupts, “I didn’t send you a letter.”
Jeno stares at him for a moment. “Uh—you did, though? I have it with me in my room—”
“Are you staying here?” Jaemin feels a little bad that he keeps interrupting, but he honestly can’t help it. There are a million things he wants to know all at once.
“Well, yeah,” Jeno confirms. “It’s a cute little place, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“But anyway, I brought your letter with me,” Jeno continues, and Jaemin thinks he might be blushing a little. Then again, Jaemin might just be imagining things. “For—for the address, and everything.”
“Jeno, I didn’t send you a letter,” Jaemin repeats.
“I have it, though,” Jeno says, a bit obstinately. “I wouldn’t have known about your dad otherwise.”
That is a fair point. Unless Jeno’s been, like, internet-stalking Jaemin all these years, news of Jaemin’s father’s death likely would not have reached him. But Jaemin still did not write to him, about anything. He’d definitely remember that. He wouldn’t even know where to mail a letter to Jeno. He has no idea where he’s living these days.
“What—what did the letter say?” Jaemin asks, trying to make sense of this. He can’t come up with any probable explanations.
Jeno gives him a funny look, like he doesn’t really believe Jaemin didn’t write the letter, but nonetheless he says, “You told me about your dad and when the funeral would be and you asked if I could make it out here for it, or sometime soon, at least. You said you’ve got an anniversary thing going on, or something like that?”
“Yeah,” Jaemin says, and his voice sounds strangely distant to him. “The hotel’s hundredth. But I didn’t…”
Jaemin trails off, trying to remember if he got, like, blackout drunk sometime in the days since his father passed away. He definitely didn’t.
“Do you wanna see it?” Jeno asks. “I can go get it.”
“Is it handwritten?” Jaemin asks. If it is, he can at least confirm it’s not his handwriting. Or worse, see that it is, and then wonder when he stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone.
Jeno shakes his head. “You typed it.”
“No, I didn’t,” Jaemin says, more firmly than he means to. But he is certain. “Someone else must have.”
That seems almost more ridiculous than him having written it and somehow forgotten about it though. He has no idea who would want to do something like this. Most of the people here don’t even know about Jeno, as far as Jaemin knows. Jaemin did tell his dad about him, and maybe his dad told some of his friends and employees, but Jaemin can’t imagine he told anyone enough that they’d be able to track Jeno down after all this time. He has no idea why any of them would do that, either.
Of the people Jaemin knows here on the island, only Shotaro actually knows Jeno, and though Shotaro likes a little prank here and there, this is just bizarre. And after being the one holding Jaemin together after he and Jeno broke up, Jaemin doesn’t think this is a line he’d be willing to cross.
“Um, why?” Jeno asks. It’s a perfectly valid question, but Jaemin feels a little irritated that he asked it. Maybe just because he has no idea himself.
“I don’t know,” Jaemin says. “But I didn’t write to you. I’ve been a little too busy lately to be concerned about someone I haven’t spoken to in over a decade.”
That’s harsh. Jaemin knows it is. He doesn’t even really know why he says it. He wanted to be mature about this. They’re not kids anymore.
Jeno winces. “Right. Uh, yeah, guess that makes sense. I should’ve thought…but then again, I didn’t really think someone else would write to me under your name.”
Also fair. Realistically, Jeno is not at all in the wrong here. He’s acted completely reasonably. Of course, coming here after the way they ended is a bit of a bold move, but if he thought Jaemin wanted to see him… Jaemin supposes he can see where he was coming from.
“Yeah,” Jaemin says. “I don’t know, maybe one of the people here was having a little bit of fun. The hotel’s anniversary—it’s this whole big, romantic thing, big hit with couples. Maybe someone thought it would be funny to get one of my exes here, or something.”
Some of the older employees frequently fret over the fact that Jaemin’s still single, but this doesn’t really seem like something any of them would do. But stranger things have happened, Jaemin supposes. Maybe someone really thinks they’re helping. Jaemin never really talked about the exact reasons he and Jeno broke up. The only people who knew were the people who were there. As far as people here on the island go, that’s once again just Shotaro.
“Oh,” Jeno says. “Uh, if you think that makes sense.”
Jaemin doesn’t really think it makes a lot of sense, but it’s the only thing he can think of that makes any kind of sense. Someone must’ve done this, and someone who knew about Jaemin’s dad’s death and about the hotel’s upcoming anniversary celebration. That points to someone on the island.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Jaemin says. “I really don’t know what’s going on here.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Jeno says.
“I’m sorry you came all this way for this,” Jaemin says.
“Oh, that’s alright,” Jeno says. “I needed a vacation anyway. It’s been a while since I’ve taken some time off.”
Jaemin doesn’t really like the sound of that. Hesitantly, he says, “Are you going to be staying here long?”
Jeno shrugs. “Well, I thought I’d stick around long enough to see what this anniversary celebration is all about. You did mention it. Or—someone did.”
“Right,” Jaemin says. He wonders if it would be rude to ask if Jeno still plans on staying that long.
“And it’s a lovely island.” Jeno pauses for a moment, and there’s something a little nostalgic in his eyes when he says, “You never told me how pretty it is here.”
“I guess you kinda get used to it,” Jaemin says. “Growing up here and everything. But yeah, it’s—it’s pretty.”
“Is—is that alright?” Jeno asks. “If you didn’t invite me…well, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I have a flight back home pretty set in stone, but I could go to a different hotel.”
If Jaemin’s father hadn’t been cremated, he’d be spinning in his freshly dug grave right now just at the thought of Jaemin turning away a paying customer—and sending them to the competition—all because of some petty breakup drama. He’s not here to protest now, and Jaemin’s the man in charge, at least until the will’s been read, but Jaemin has a feeling he knows how that’s going to turn out. Jisung may have been Daddy’s little boy, but Jaemin was born first. Jaemin’s dad clung to tradition, though Jaemin has no idea why.
But Jaemin will feel like a child if he tells Jeno he should go somewhere else. What they had together was ages ago, practically in a different lifetime. They were young. There’s just no point being upset anymore.
“No, please,” Jaemin says, “stay. I would really like to take your money.”
Jeno laughs, and it’s strange to hear that sound again after all this time. “Okay. As long as you’re sure.”
Jaemin nods, feeling as sure as he’ll ever be. “I heard you got engaged,” he says. “Is she here, or did you leave her at home?”
Jeno seems momentarily surprised by his question. “Oh, uh, no. No, I, uh…I never went through with it. Got cold feet.”
“Oh,” Jaemin says, and somehow that seems very fitting. It was like he was just expecting to hear that, or that he got divorced or something like it.
Jaemin supposes it might’ve had some interesting implications for Jeno’s marriage if he came all this way at the invitation of an ex he hasn’t seen in years for the funeral of a man he never met, especially if he’d come alone.
“At least you’re consistent,” Jaemin says, and he knows that’s harsh too.
“Jaemin—” Jeno begins.
“Sorry,” Jaemin says. “That was uncalled for. I appreciate you coming to the funeral. That was very nice of you.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jeno says. “It seemed like he was very well-loved here.”
Jaemin almost asks how he could know that, but he was there in the church. Jaemin’s assuming he was, at least. Even if he wasn’t, he was definitely in the event room earlier, and he would’ve seen how many people were there.
“He was,” Jaemin says. Regardless of Jaemin’s own messy feelings, the community loved Jaemin’s father. His absence will be sorely felt. “And thank you.”
“Of course,” Jeno says. He’s quiet for a few moments, and then, looking like he’s not sure if he should say it, he says, “It’s good to see you again.”
Jaemin smiles. “You too.”
It’s hard to tell if he means that or not. He doesn’t really know how he feels looking at Jeno now.
“You, um. You ever get married?” Jeno asks, and Jaemin thinks it’s probably telling that of all the questions he could possibly ask right now, that’s the one he goes with.
Jaemin laughs a little. “Haven’t had the time.”
“Oh,” Jeno says, and Jaemin can’t really read his expression. He supposes that’s better than him appearing clearly pleased. “You know—”
Jaemin hears a door open behind him, and then Shotaro saying, “Uh, Jaemin?”
Jaemin turns. Shotaro stands in the doorway to the event room looking appropriately sheepish.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, “but we’re not sure how you want the tables set up for tomorrow’s birthday party. Wasn’t there a special arrangement request?”
Jaemin has no idea what Shotaro’s talking about. Well, to be fair, there is a birthday party using the room tomorrow. The rest he just made up.
“Right,” Jaemin says anyway. He turns back to Jeno. “Sorry, I should go take care of that.”
“Of course, of course,” Jeno says. “I’ll maybe see you around?”
“Yeah,” Jaemin says. “Enjoy your stay.”
“Hi, Jeno,” Shotaro says, and Jaemin turns to see him wearing a funny little smile. It looks very plastic. Jaemin doesn’t really like it.
“Hi, Shotaro,” Jeno says. “Good to see you again. I…had no idea you ended up here.”
Shotaro shrugs. “Life takes you funny places sometimes. Sorry I can’t stay and chat.”
“No, I get it,” Jeno says. “I’ll see you.”
Shotaro hums and nods, and then both he and Jaemin are walking back into the event room, letting the door fall closed behind them.