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Wonwoo’s story goes a little something like this:
Jeon Wonwoo – born on July 17, 1996 in Changwon, Gyeongsangnam-do. He was born to a family of doctors and lawyers and he was expected to become either of the two as well. That’s why he took up medicine without hesitation, thinking it was only natural for him to do so. He’s a good student, never getting any failing marks and was a favorite of many of his professors and was well-liked by his peers. Many would describe him as reliable and hard-working, though he was most known for being warm despite his aloof appearance. He’s never really had the time to be in a proper, committed relationship with anyone but he’s been on a few dates here and there.
Of course, the story doesn’t end there (otherwise he wouldn’t even be on this train in the first place): this was the year he’d be graduating. Then he’d enter med school. The only problem was he didn’t want to.
Wonwoo had always loved books. He found solace and comfort in them, found all the adventure and romance and mystery that he needed. It wasn’t long before he picked up writing as a hobby; it was a trial-and-error sort of thing, and he didn’t think he would actually be able to write anything he would consider good or even just decent. Life is full of surprises, he learned, and before he knew it he became obsessed with writing. He started carrying around a pocket notebook and pen wherever he went, writing to his heart’s content. Everything was fine and well until he realized that this was what he wanted to do, not become a doctor. This was what he was passionate about, not anatomy and chemical reactions and a million and one things he can barely pronounce. He did good in class, yes, but none of it stimulated his brain the way writing would. But he knew he couldn’t just drop medicine entirely; his parents would never consider being a writer as a “proper and legitimate” profession, often looking down on anyone who chose to pursue the arts instead of something “more practical” like medicine, law or accountancy.
Wonwoo wants none of that. In fact, what he wants is just really simple: he just wants to write.
Wonwoo meets Junhui and Mingyu on the train.
Simply put, none of them were associated with each other in any way prior to being on the same train headed to nowhere (Wonwoo has no idea how long the three of them can live their lives on trains and wander aimlessly). They barely even actually noticed each other save for that one morning on the dining coach; Wonwoo was sipping on his morning tea, dog-eared book before him, and Mingyu made himself welcome on the seat opposite his and Junhui followed shortly after.
To be honest, Wonwoo has grown accustomed and even fond of both his companions. One can even say they have become the best part of his journey, making the train feel a little like home.
Everyone on this train has a story, Wonwoo thinks. He jots down his observations on his leather-bound notebook, scribbling little details about the other passengers (he smiles at the ones he’s become acquainted with, other wanderers much like himself) and writes down the little stories he makes up for them in his head. For example: the man over there with the scar on his brow and the crooked nose – maybe he was the type to get into a lot of scuffles, maybe he was just really heroic and got into a fight to help someone. He has a mean face but Wonwoo sees the softness in his eyes. Or what about the young woman who always sat by herself when she ate her meals, always at the table beside the window? Wonwoo is quick to take note of the melancholic air about her, the certain edge in her eyes. Maybe she’d gone through a lot and even if she looked only a little bit older than Wonwoo, she seemed to exude a kind of wisdom most people only got when they were much older. Maybe she worked in the city but had to go home because a family member fell ill (Wonwoo genuinely hopes this isn’t the case).
You see, everyone has a story. Wonwoo, Mingyu and Junhui have their own stories to tell and it just so happens that for this particular chapter in their respective lives, their paths have crossed and their stories are slowly merging into one.
“Have you ever thought of writing a novel?” Mingyu asks Wonwoo. He pushes aside his empty cup of coffee and takes a sip from his glass of water. He scrunches his nose. “I mean, you wanna be a writer, correct?”
Wonwoo nods. “Yeah, I guess I’ve thought of it.”
Junhui leans back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Have you thought of what to write about?”
“Well…”
“You spend so much time scribbling stuff down on your notebook and not one plot has come to mind?” Junhui teases. He shrugs after. “I guess that’s just every artist’s curse: having all that talent and potential but sometimes not knowing what to do with it.”
Wonwoo rests his chin on his palm. “I have come up with a number of story ideas, but it’s just that none of them really stuck with me or...moved me enough to actually make me want to write them. None of it was the right idea.”
“What exactly is the ‘right idea’, anyway?” Mingyu mumbles mostly to himself.
“I don’t know,” Wonwoo admits. “But I guess it would have to be something that’s very personal to me, or at least is important enough to me. Like something based off a significant event or point in my life, I suppose.”
“Sounds difficult,” Junhui remarks. “But I totally get that. And knowing you, I’m sure you would never half-ass anything you write.”
Wonwoo smiles at that.
“Don’t write about heartbreak,” Mingyu suggests, half-jokingly. “Or romance, in general. Pretty overrated, if you ask me. And it’s not like most people get the whole heartbreak thing right, anyway; most times it’s unrealistic or half-baked. It’s like none of them have ever even had their hearts broken.”
“I can’t argue against that,” Wonwoo says. “Though I’m not really the romance genre kind of author, I suppose.”
“So what kind of author do you want to be?”
“I’m not quite sure. I’ll figure it out in time.”
They ask him no more after that.
In truth, Wonwoo finds himself writing a lot about his time on the train and especially about Mingyu and Junhui. He writes about their nuances and mannerisms, tries his best to describe them as accurately as possible, takes note of the good and bad characteristics of the two boys.
Of the three of them, Junhui was always the most dressed up. Even when they didn’t go off the train and into town, he always dressed to the nines. Wonwoo doesn’t know much about fabrics but just from mere observation he can see that everything Junhui wears is of good quality. His dress shirts were never ill-fitting and his sneakers went well with almost everything he wore; other times he wore his Oxfords, which weant well with everything. Wonwoo also observes the cool tones Junhui often wore, adding just the slightest pop of color to his outfit for the day. He preferred solid colors over patterns, but he enjoyed wearing striped shirts. Wonwoo thinks that Junhui could wear literally anything and make it look good.
Mingyu is easily the charmer out of the bunch. He’s the tallest out of all of them, and Wonwoo thinks that if there should ever be a real-life Prince Charming, it would probably be Mingyu. Wonwoo notes how Mingyu certainly knew how to work his way around people; he knows how to read people and how to act around them. To Wonwoo, that’s a very valuable skill, something you would never be taught in school and something that a lot of people weren’t born with. Mingyu is a people person, a social butterfly, a natural magnet. The catch is that Wonwoo thinks MIngyu might be a little too reliant on social interactions; there never seemed to be a second or moment in any given day when Mingyu didn’t round the three of them together. He was often the plan maker, making itineraries for the day or a list of things to do and places to see. Neither Wonwoo nor Junhui complained (and in all honesty, they all could use the company anyway) but to Wonwoo it felt like Mingyu needed this more than either of them did. He supposes it’s because of the circumstance Mingyu is in, though. And in general, it seemed like Mingyu could never be left alone.
Perhaps the strangest thing about their little trio is how they decided to just stick together. Wonwoo knows all three of them could have easily just gone back to not noticing each other or at least pretending like they’ve never spoken to each other. He’s seen enough people do that to know it’s entirely possible. Except that wasn’t the case for them. After that, they would continue to have their meals together and even went around the stops together. Now, it looks as though they have become inseparable from each other. At first Wonwoo doesn’t really mind because at least this gives him something to write about and people to maybe base characters off of, but in the end he realizes that he doesn’t mind because he actually genuinely likes both Mingyu and Junhui.
When Wonwoo is shaken awake the next morning and the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is Mingyu and Junhui beaming at him, he doesn’t complain or tell them to go away. He throws a pillow at them and buries his face in another, but he can’t stop the fond smile that tugs at his lips.
“I had everything planned out,” Mingyu tells them. “We grew up in the same town, went to the same middle school and high school, and we started dating. I saw a future with her, saw myself settling down and starting a family with her. Really, I had it all planned out.”
Junhui takes a sip of his beer, makes a face, and hands it to Wonwoo. Wonwoo drinks the rest of it though he isn’t exactly fond of beer. “But what happened?”
“Well,” Mingyu answers, “she and I didn’t end up in the same university. I chose my university because it had the best arts program, great for my major – film. We promised to make time for each other, though, and we went on dates on the weekends and Skype calling each other whenever we could. It worked out just fine for the first few months, you know? We were doing fine.”
“Until you weren’t?” Wonwoo asks.
“That’s a dramatic way to put it,” Junhui murmurs.
Mingyu sighs. “It’s not like he’s wrong about it, anyway. Eventually she just stopped replying entirely and the Skype calls became less frequent too. Oh, what am I saying? Even I couldn’t seem to make time for her anymore, but that didn’t mean I was ready to let go of her just yet.”
“You had your life planned out with her, yeah?” Junhui says.
Mingyu nods. “There was a lot that went wrong with our relationship, I think. She didn’t mind that I pursued film, but her parents did. I get it, I do, but what sucked was how I started seeing it seep into her too. She started giving me the same lectures they’d give her, telling me that maybe I should have taken up something else because realistically I wouldn’t be able to do anything with a major in film.”
Wonwoo snickers. “Cheers to that.”
That makes Mingyu smile a little. It wavers after a few seconds and the sadness seeps back into Mingyu’s features. “I guess I might have scared her away too.”
“What do you mean?” Junhui asks.
“I was always very open with her about settling down,” Mingyu explains. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “She never really said anything about it, now that I think of it, but maybe she wasn’t as sure about our relationship as I was. Maybe I was the only one who saw us lasting forever, maybe I was the only one who even thought that it would be just like the movies.” He smiles bitterly. “Kind of ironic, if you think of it.”
“Mind if I ask who broke it off?” Wonwoo asks carefully.
“She did,” Mingyu responds softly. “I think that much is pretty obvious. Otherwise I wouldn’t be such a mess over it, still. It’s been months but I’m still hurting like it was just yesterday. I guess there really can’t be any happy endings outside of books and movies.”
A thick veil of silence falls between the three of them. Wonwoo puts away the bottle of beer, too sad to even take another sip. He looks at how slumped Mingyu’s shoulders are, looks at his crestfallen face. He’s just another one of those poor, idealistic romantics , Wonwoo thinks. In a way, Wonwoo thinks it suits everything else about Mingyu – sunny Mingyu with his easy smiles and with his heart on his sleeve. That’s what makes this even sadder for Wonwoo. He walks over to Mingyu and gives him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay,” he says, and Mingyu’s eyes light up.
“What’s your story?” Mingyu asks Junhui.
Junhui’s shoulders visibly tense for a fraction of a second before his body relaxes. He shrugs and says, “I guess I’m a little lost.”
“Lost?”
“I have no idea what I want,” Junhui continues. He presses his lips into a thin line, brows furrowed, then he adds, “Growing up, I did really good in everything I picked up: wushu, dancing, acting – you name it. But that was exactly the problem. I had all this talent, this potential, but I had no idea where to focus all of it into.”
Wonwoo tilts his head to the side. “I’m sure we’ve all felt that way at one point or another.”
Junhui shakes his head. “No, you don’t get it. I literally have no idea what I wanna do with my life. When I was a kid, I said I wanted to take wushu seriously and for a while I really did. It was practically my life, until this big competition came and despite all the training I put into it, I still choked. They told me it was okay that I did, that it happens to the best of us, but after that I just dropped it entirely. I could tell my parents were bummed by it, but they supported me nonetheless.
“I took up acting after and when I told mom and dad that I wanted to give it a try, like audition for some roles, they supported me. I actually managed to bag some big budget roles and a couple of commercials here and there. Then I don’t know what happened. I was doing really good and if I’d just kept going, I definitely would have been better, but I woke up one day and I just started to doubt myself. I don’t know why, but it took its toll and I dropped it too. You know, my parents didn’t get mad even then. I wish they did because it would probably make it easier to live with the guilt.”
Wonwoo and Mingyu process everything Junhui has said. Mingyu then asks, “So what brought you here now?”
“I told mom and dad that I wanted to try being a popstar,” Junhui replies, chuckling to himself as if it were some silly idea. “K-Pop is pretty huge in China, or at least it’s gotten pretty huge, and it piqued my curiosity. When I graduated high school, I was deadset on becoming an idol, and my parents scraped up all the money they could to send me here, to Korea. It was a lot harder than I thought but I finally got accepted into one agency and I started training. I thought I was already good at what I did, but there were others who were much better. That sucked but it didn’t stop me, though it did start to eat away at me.”
“Did you start doubting this dream of yours again?” Wonwoo asks.
Junhui nods, his face now set into a scowl. “I told myself that this was it, this was the dream. But it’s like every time I finally seem to find my calling, I just start to doubt everything again. That’s why I hopped on the train without a word to the agency. I just had to get away from it all.”
Mingyu laughs a small laugh. “I think that’s why we’re all here, don’t you think? We’re all a little lost and just trying to get away from one thing or another.”
Wonwoo laughs at that, and so does Junhui.
“You know,” Wonwoo says to them, “I’m glad I got to spend my summer like this, with you two.” It makes it easier to face the reality before me, makes it easier to face the next day knowing I’m gonna have to go back to everything I tried getting away from , he adds in his head. He supposes that maybe Junhui and Mingyu understand this already. “I really wish we didn’t have to go back to, well, everything .”
Junhui sighs. “Same here.”
“We can always keep in touch, though,” Mingyu suggests. “We’ve got each other’s numbers so we can just set up days when we can hang out.”
Junhui and Wonwoo murmur in agreement.
“It’s kinda funny how I thought I’d be going on some spiritual journey,” Wonwoo says almost as an afterthought, “you know, some Eat, Pray, Love stuff. I thought it would help me make sense of everything that was messing with me, help me find the answers I wanted. I got you two instead.”
Junhui and Mingyu look surprised but the brightest smiles light up their faces. That’s when it hits Wonwoo – Eureka !
“I’ve figured it out,” Wonwoo announces. His beams at his companions. “I know what my story is gonna be about.”
Wonwoo’s story goes a little something like this:
Three boys, all roughly the same age, meet on a train. They supposedly embark on some great journey to find themselves or at least finds the answers they’ve been looking for, to find that healing they’ve been needing, but instead they find solace and comfort in one another. They get lost every now and then, get into some trouble here and there, and more than once they get into arguments with each other. Sometimes they get rained on because someone forgets to bring the umbrella, and sometimes they nearly get left behind by the train because one of them gets too distracted by the food. Sometimes they argue over trivial things like what music to play because the other two are tired of the same old (literally) music the gangly, sort of nerdy one likes so much. There are ups and downs, highs and lows, but it’ll be the best few months of their lives.
Don’t worry: this story has a happy ending.