Chapter Text
It was only January, and the freshmen hadn’t flooded the campus yet, but Seokjin had reached one-quarter from his goal of meeting 100 new people in a year, turning strangers into names and a sentence to describe them. It could be about their striking appearances, unpredictable stories, or unique traits, as long as it’s positive. A selfie together was a bonus.
Two travellers on the Scotrail to Fort William, three Bed & Breakfast staff, twelve guests, three private online meetups, and the rest were people whom he smiled at and greeted first on the road, at the store, everywhere. Not so much about networking, but more about learning that even the most ordinary person has a story worth telling if he cared to sit longer and listen.
Among the white that fell softly and cushioned their steps, bonded by fogged breath and the stiff walk from wearing crampons, he added five more new names, not including the guide that he met before. The journey skyward was less tiring with them on his side.
With the last pick of the ice axe, he welcomed the endless blue skyline with a dash of warmth from the sun in the high noon. An unlikely bright day considering last night’s forecast. Luck must be on his side.
“This is it. Britain’s highest peak,” he spoke to himself. Shivering and gritting his teeth, he put his hands inside the jacket to seek refuge from the freezing temperature. It subsided a bit as he peered down to the extensive cliffs with pride. How small was his problem compared to this wonder?
He’s grateful that the weather was decent so that he could differentiate between the clouds and the snow, and more than that, so that he could spot one man who’s standing alone among the thin fog, eyes shut as if trying to listen to nature’s whisper. Serene. Tranquil. His white winter parka made him one with the crystalline scenery, and the wind blew his long, wavy hair gracefully.
As he walked closer with a surging curiosity of how someone could be that stoic in the cold, Seokjin was sure that the man was Korean. There’s an indescribable instinct that helped us to spot someone from the same nation no matter where we stood, like a built-in radar, so he’s sure of that. Besides, It’s rare to find a Korean who travels alone. If he’s not on a personal mission that’s too unbecoming to be shared with others, he’d rather travel in a group. In other words, he couldn’t wait to hear the story.
“Hangukssaramieyo?” he asked carefully, earning a glance from the man who just opened his eyes.
Blue.
“Ani… no, aniyo? Hangukssaram a-anieyo,” answered the non-Korean man who could speak Korean, though not fluently. Embarrassed by the mistake, Seokjin switched to English, but the man told him to keep using Korean. In English.
Choosing not to give up on his first impression, Seokjin asked again if the man was Japanese or Chinese, but he wasn’t. He decided that he must be someone who lived abroad for too long to the point that he forgot his native language. He did it halfway with the contact lenses. He should’ve bleached and dyed his hair, too, so he won’t be mistaken as Asian.
Since the new acquaintance didn’t speak much, Seokjin asked him to help take pictures as an ice-breaking. Oftentimes, a solo traveller was too shy to ask first. It’s easier to say, “Can you do that for me as well?” when they gave back the phone or camera. However, this time, his attempt ended up outside often.
“How long have you stayed in the UK?” Seokjin asked after checking the pictures.
“18 years.”
“No wonder. You must be older than me.”
He creased his eyebrows, complaining, “I’m 18 years old. International age.”
“Really? Look at you," Seokjin scanned him up and down. "You don’t look 18.”
Hearing the unexpected answer, the first thought that came into Seokjin’s mind was how wrong he was. The deep blue eyes, almost indigo, must be real. Double eyelids, high nose; he should’ve realised it sooner. In an instant, an odd sinking feeling that he interpreted as envy bloomed in his chest, imagining that his biggest problem wouldn't be a problem at all if he were him.
As an attempt to get back into his senses, he introduced himself then asked for a selfie. Surprisingly, the man whose Korean name was Jeongguk, agreed.
“You must be English, then,” Seokjin said, completely aware of the distinct accent but distracted enough with the newly taken picture.
“Nae, not English. Scottish. Careful with that.” A gloved hand covered the phone to get his full attention.
“I’m sorry. I’ve only been here since September last year. So, three months?”
What a lame excuse, Jeongguk grumbled in his mind. That's basic knowledge. Differentiating two countries was nothing compared to his efforts in learning the Korean language, letters, cultures, and customs. Day and night, he strived to equip himself with knowledge in fear of making any mistake. Indeed, meeting a Korean person to practice was a rare opportunity, but should he do it with this undeniably good looking yet excessively friendly man who rubbed him the wrong way?
Being talkative was okay to him, but Jeongguk didn’t like it when people assumed before asking. He didn’t like it either when someone commented on his body as it reminded him of the time when he used to be skinny—Korean genes always won somehow. During elementary school, his friends called him a twink even before he knew the meaning. Part because of his appearance, part because of his surname.
Still, he didn’t realise that his body didn’t move an inch, and that’s exactly what prompted Seokjin to talk more. It worked well because, finally, something piqued Jeongguk’s interest.
“Are you on holiday? I’m an exchange student from Sungkyunkwan to Edinburgh. The program’s finished, so I plan to spend my remaining weeks around the Highlands,” Seokjin asked as he fixed his tartan shawl. The journey wasn’t tiring, but the chill wind on the back of his neck was more challenging.
“What? Are you—” Jeongguk stopped abruptly because the guide called Seokjin’s group to take a picture together before climbing down the mountain, racing with the early sunset. After waving goodbye and shouting nice to meet you back to Seokjin, Jeongguk moved along with the tour group in the same state of unawareness.
Descending the rocky terrain stole their full attention. Only after they passed the dangerous steep climb, Jeongguk ran to catch up to Seokjin. “Hey,” he shouted and tipped the man before him with the blunt edge of his ice axe. “Are you from Sungkyunkwan University? I’m going to study there next semester.”
“Huh? What a coincidence. Are you coming as a freshman this March?” They walked side by side now, synchronising the pace.
“Yes, majoring in Customer Science. You?”
"Sociology. Third year next March. Daebak, we're in the same department so we're going to use the same study hall. How small is the chance to get this coincidence?"
"Should I start calling you sunbae?" Jeongguk asked with an apparent thrill as it made him feel like an authentic Korean. Seokjin preferred to be called hyung, so Jeongguk followed along with the honorifics and the steps that he took. Slower than before.
Realising that he’s almost separated from the group, Seokjin introduced Jeongguk to everyone and said that he’s going to walk with an old friend. When the people in the group said “Annyeonghaseyo” out of politeness, Jeongguk said it back instead of correcting them or showing off his accent.
In each stride, the gap between them faded away. Jeongguk talked more, mostly some trivia about the Highlands that Seokjin had already heard from the tour guide, but he still nodded and asked back with enthusiasm. While he deemed that Jeongguk was comfortable enough with him, it’s his turn to ask about the reason someone would move to Korea by forsaking a beautiful country like this. Why now?
“To tell you the truth, I always wanted to move to Korea but mom told me it’s safer for me to stay in Scotland,” Jeongguk answered.
It fascinated him, how a simple sentence can be deconstructed and interpreted in so many different ways. Among all the possibilities, he settled down to the most plausible reason. “Ah yes, the competition is crazy there. The education system is totally different. You’re lucky to be here, enjoying youth like you should,” consoled him.
Perhaps he’s right, perhaps he’s wrong. A smile was another thing that had many meanings at once. No added information from Jeongguk to confirm or deny it. Instead, he talked about his preparation for the university; how he was looking for an apartment even though he’s automatically assigned to a dorm as an international student.
Seokjin bit his orange-flavoured lip, almost saying that he had spare rooms in his three-bedrooms rented apartment since the rest would be graduating soon. He wanted to learn more about Jeongguk first, and it's proven to be the right decision.
"Honestly, it's not me. Sharing a house is fine but I'm afraid the person would find it uncomfortable to share a room with me."
"Why? Are you a messy person or do you snore?"
"A wee bit of both?" Jeongguk laughed to hide his insecurities, and it completely changed his face from aloof to adorable, way younger than his age. The first laugh that Seokjin heard since they met each other. It sure was infectious.
Immersed in the light mood and the vast, picturesque hill all around, they talked about all things Korean. K-dramas that they watched, followed by a long discussion about how Jeongguk believed that the rhythmical Korean language was made for rapping and poems, sparked by his interest in Show Me The Money and his favourite contemplative rapper RM.
When he spoke about singers, he knew indie musicians like Jannabi and Hyukoh instead of the most popular K-pop groups. The chosen major was also because he wanted to work in the industry—he admitted this with wandering eyes and burned cheeks.
It’s strange for Seokjin. The amount of adoration that Jeongguk had for Korea pierced through him. He wouldn’t say that he’s absolutely proud of the country, although he didn't hate the country either. It’s like accepting that his favourite series didn’t go the way he liked, but it didn’t make him cry his eyes out and mull over it for days. Western and British series, to be precise. Catching up to the latest episodes of Game of Thrones and Doctor Who was a must for him.
What Seokjin didn’t know was that he never had the need to feel represented in things that he consumed. Though depending on subtitles, a child Jeongguk was overjoyed to be surrounded by people who look like him. Moreover, those people were depicted as cool and attractive, so maybe he could be one, too.
The more Jeongguk narrated his life and fascination, the more Seokjin was drawn to the gleaming blue eyes. The conversation wasn’t necessarily smooth. English words and phrases slipped here and there, sometimes indecipherable Scottish, and once in a while, Seokjin would correct the sentences. Jeongguk would nod along in a serious manner, genuinely happy to be able to practice with someone. Unlike Edinburgh, there’s no big university in the Highlands, so he couldn’t meet many Korean students around the same age.
Four hours back to the starting point felt shortened. Suddenly, the white wasn’t as obvious. It’s time for them to return the crampons, ice axes, and to their own lives beyond the sleeping mountain. Seokjin eyed Jeongguk who seemed familiar with the man in the visitor centre. He shared a high five and collected his backpack before approaching Seokjin in the entryway, hands were busy typing on his phone.
"Where are you heading to?" He asked as they walked together to the parking lot.
"Eating. It's perfect weather for a bowl of hot noodles."
Jeongguk couldn’t contain his excitement while they're talking about Korean food. He could watch and listen to Korean entertainment as much as he liked, but it’s hard to find food and the local ingredients.
“Unfortunately, there’s no Korean restaurant in Fort William. But I know a decent Chinese restaurant around here if you’re interested,” he said, hoping that it didn’t sound too much like a desperate invitation. It’s for practising Korean, he kept telling himself.
“Oh, I mean in my B&B. I brought them from home and saved them for this special day after the climb. Exchange students can’t really afford to eat out, you know. Plus, I spent a lot on the tour guide,” he replied and wrapped his words in a brittle smile.
“Poor you. You should’ve just asked me. I’ve been to Ben Nevis since I was twelve.”
“Will it be cheaper?”
“Depends. However, with me, money isn’t the only currency.”
Jeongguk was surprised by himself for saying that out loud with no stutter. He shoved his hands in the jacket’s pockets and cleared his throat because there’s no answer from Seokjin, only a vanishing laugh as he moved further away to say goodbye to his group. Hiding his red face behind the hood, he’s ready to head to the train station, when Seokjin appeared on his side.
“Do you want to eat together and hang out at my B&B? If it’s not money I could pay you in advance.” Seokjin nudged his shoulder.
The table had turned. Jeongguk didn’t know what to expect from Seokjin’s spontaneous offer and what might lie beneath the surface. Seeing Jeongguk thinking too hard, Seokjin continued, “It’s just instant food. Don’t feel pressured if you’re not interested.”
“Of course, I’m interested,” answered him rapidly as if afraid of losing the chance. Again, it surprised him that he swiftly switched to English while sounding too eager, so he felt the need to add, “with the food.”
“Sure, with the food,” Seokjin repeated.
As he finished the sentence, he knew that it wasn’t the food for him.
---
Aradia Bed & Breakfast was a small family business with only five rooms available for the guests, all in the country cottage style. The owner was an elderly man who lived around the area, so he advertised for part-time helpers on a website in exchange for free accommodation, breakfast, and a discount for a Ben Nevis tour package. Intrigued by that, Seokjin applied, and the host welcomed him after being impressed by his conversational skill over the phone.
Darkness smudged the small town impatiently, but most of the guests weren’t here in the shared kitchen. Aside from him and Jeongguk, a woman was sitting around the rustic table with a cup of tea and a steaming kettle on top of it. Diana; an independent woman who’s happy living in a nursing home because it’s equipped with advanced assistive technology—better than my son’s house, she said. Once a month, she travelled around any city for a change of scenery and stayed indoors most of the time, only interested in meeting the travellers to feel young.
“Evening, love. Your friend?” She greeted Seokjin from her seat, looking cosy in the mustard fleece and a matching beanie hat that hid her white hair.
A quick introduction of how they met on Ben Nevis was shortly replaced by the conversation about the weather in the mountain, about how yesterday it rained the whole day but not today, then more stories about how unpredictable weather affected her deceased husband’s cattle farm. Jeongguk would rather help Seokjin than listen to her, but Seokjin insisted that he’s a guest and he must serve the meal to him.
As expected by Jeongguk, Diana’s first question when he took a seat was, “Where did you come from?”
“Inverness.”
A pause.
“No, I mean, where did you really come from? Before here?”
“A village around Inverness that you might not be familiar with, Drumnadrochit,” he answered nonchalantly. Nothing new to him.
“Oh, you have a great Scottish accent.”
"Aye, you have a great British accent." He forced himself to laugh to be polite, and it did sound genuine after years of practise.
"You're a funny chap. Of course I do, dear, I've been here my whole life. So did my grandparents and their grandparents."
Next, the conversation took a turn to discuss his blue eyes. Are those real? Is it possible for Asians to have blue eyes?
It sounded like a pre-recorded dialogue. Finally, Seokjin knew why Jeongguk was cold to him in the beginning. It must be tiring hearing the same thing all over again, hundreds of times in his 18 years. A question emerged in his mind, how could Jeongguk take it so well?
Overwhelmed in a sense of admiration and frustration, Seokjin doubled his speed to finish the cooking. Being the third person at the table, he recited a famous line from a historical drama to Jeongguk, intentionally confusing him. He kept talking like that even after Jeongguk said “What?” multiple times, then something just clicked.
“Yer bum’s oot the windae,” Jeongguk said, eventually knowing the intention of the skit.
“See, my friend doesn’t understand Korean, but speaks Scottish very well. He’s Scottish, not Korean.”
They shortly excused themselves to eat inside the staff room. Apart from what happened before, Seokjin didn’t want the woman who’s only there to sip tea in placidity, complaining that the food smells. Cooking in a shared kitchen used to embarrass him. Only stopped being used to because he minimised cooking Korean food, the reason he still had plenty for today. Bread and butter weren’t that bad.
Jeongguk helped to roll the food tray to Seokjin’s room but stopped in front of the door. He made sure that his boots and jacket were cleaned enough before taking them off and putting them in the assigned place. In Jeongguk's eyes, the room was too clean as if Seokjin rarely slept here. He’s more careful because of that.
The room wasn’t big, but warm. The antique wooden furniture and maroon wallpaper helped a lot. It had two single beds on each side of the room, separated by a chest of drawers. Only one was occupied. There’s a small rustic table over the window where they could sit and eat side by side, watching snowdrops arrived after a long day of hiding. If not that, the reflection on the mirrored glass was no less interesting, captured in an equally gentle motion.
Budae jjigae ramyeon with eggs and sausages, topokki, and kimchi jeon were laid neatly on the table. A ten minutes dinner was prolonged into an hour as they kept talking about food. The last pieces of jeon were already cold by the time they cleared the plates.
“Not everyone is like Diana. My friends aren’t. Mostly, it’s the older people who simply don’t understand instead of intending to do harm,” Jeongguk said as he stacked the dirty bowls and plates, moving them to the side to give more space for their hands. In case.
“You’d fit well with Koreans. Lenses, hair dyes, eyebrows tattoos; everyone’s trying to be a different version of themselves. No one would bother you.” Seokjin brushed Jeongguk’s hand to assure him, then retraced in haste. In case.
“Not if I talk like this, eh?”
“Hmm, I could help with your Seoul accent if you want. Is that enough payment for a full day Fort William tour?”
Oh, that’s what he meant, Jeongguk thought. Being around adventurous friends started to alter his perception. Those friends were in university these days while he’s stuck because of the different academic year between Scotland and Korea, leaving him with extended gap months.
Seokjin went to rummage through his bag while saying, “I'll introduce you to my friends so that you won’t have to start from zero or one. You can speak Korean so it shouldn’t be a problem.” He closed it with an offering of a choco pie snack.
He swore that among all, Jeongguk’s eyes lightened up the most this time. Not sure if it’s his words or the choco pie.
“This is my favourite. My mother and I brought several boxes from our trip years ago.”
It’s the choco pie then, Seokjin concluded. Jeongguk might look cold when he’s quiet, but small things easily made him happy. First impressions could be wrong. So did assumptions. Because then, Jeongguk said under his breath, “Thank you, hyung.”
"My pleasure. Smile looks good on you."
"Ah, does it?"
Seokjin instinctively drew his face closer, making sure. "It does," he affirmed.
That marked the first time they stopped talking in a while. Jeongguk asked what Seokjin usually did in the room, and he answered, listening to music. Since he’s not familiar with Hyukoh, Jeongguk introduced the band to him. The Scottish to the Korean. The first song on shuffle was Mer.
Even if the reasons change
It's never gonna freeze again
Even if the matters change
We're all gonna remain the same
They tried to look at the window instead of facing towards each other, but what they saw was how both of them stole a glance from the reflection. Caught red-handed, they lowered their heads simultaneously, and the views changed into tapping fingers on the table. Could be because of the palpable attraction, the rhythm, or both. Closer and closer, yet none moved the side of their hands touched.
Sweltering, Jeongguk took off his wool sweater. It must be the hot ramyeon—a late side effect. To help him, Seokjin put the dirty dishes to the kitchen and back with two glasses of water.
“Do you want to stay in Korea for good?” he asked, trying not to get distracted by the messy top bun. He better starts another conversation to alleviate the strange feelings.
“I’m not sure,” Jeongguk paused to take a sip of water. “Perhaps if I get a job. I don’t have Korean citizenship.”
“We’re opposite. I wish I could work and stay here. I want… to live in a more open-minded society if that makes sense to you,” Seokjin replied.
Endlessly reading the dim room. The theme of their conversation since noon.
“That’s why I’m not sure. But I know I can’t deny that I’m half-Korean and I want to explore that part of me. Burying it never works, the mirror always reminds me. We can’t escape ourselves, can we?”
He nodded.
Thanks to the insensible lady, the simple dinner turned out unexpectedly. Sit longer and listen would get you to the interesting story, but stare into the eyes and be mutually vulnerable would forge the connection to another level.
That wasn’t on Seokjin’s plan.
He didn’t intend to learn that they’re two people who always had one foot ready to take off from their countries, most likely for different reasons. It’s a mirror for Jeongguk and an inescapable dream for Seokjin. At least the nights when he’s too afraid to sleep brought him to a good university, to the top of his class, then at last, to this table. Why else would he insist on learning English since he’s a kid?
He came here with a personal mission. A self-discovery project to make sure of himself and try crazy things in his dreams that he won’t ever do in Korea and with Koreans. That’s the basic rule to avoid attachment and tattletale. Jeongguk would be an exception because he’s a foreigner, he reasoned hours ago. But he ended up getting more lost in his head.
To avoid the blue eyes and the slipping distance—both from the occasional legs brushing and the shared fate—Seokjin stood up to sit on the bed. He took a pillow and put it on top of his lap, fingers playing with the seemingly softer than velvet sheet.
Jeongguk rotated the chair, sitting with thighs wide open like he owned the room, asking, “What did you study in Edinburgh?” A question so ordinary, so easily forgotten, like a gentle interlude to catch their breath from the soul-stirring melody. He stopped the music that didn't help.
"New religious movements, Scottish studies." This interlude sounded as good as the title track.
"I thought you're taking sociology."
"Yes, I'm interested in studying how neopaganism appeals to urban people, especially women and the queer community."
"What?" Jeongguk stood up from the seat.
"Strange, right?"
"No,” he almost shouted. “I mean, my mom's a witch. A wiccan. She earns a living from that. My tuition was paid by magick.”
“You’re kidding me. I was born into a family of mudang.” Cruel. Fate is cruel, Seokjin protested. He almost threw the pillow but held it back. Closer. Tighter.
“What’s a mudang?” Jeongguk looked perplexed, and Seokjin thanked all gods that the word cute didn't slip out of his tongue.
“A Korean word for shaman. My grandmother is one.”
“I see. Are you familiar with Wicca?”
“Sure. If it harms none, do what you will. I like religions that have no devil.”
From the moment Seokjin learned about paganism, he’s charmed by the values of equality, how it empowers the believers because they put the power on themselves instead of some distant figures. Men didn’t like strong women, so they burned the witches. He predicted that it’s going to be bigger considering how feminism and eco-conscious movements flourished everywhere.
Meanwhile, Jeongguk never thought about his religion that way before. Sure, his mother was a strong woman—raising him alone yet never raising her finger or her voice, learning and teaching him Korean to keep him connected to his roots, forgiving her past—but he never connected the dots.
“A feminist man. You must be popular with women.” He smirked.
“But not with men.”
“Does it matter?”
“I don’t know," Seokjin laughed. "I'm always single anyway."
"We're alike," Jeongguk joined, reciprocating the bait. He couldn’t believe that he met a man who understood what he said, so he continued his story. “My mom does a bit of everything. She has a small occult shop, designing and selling tarot decks on Kickstarter, then taking care of returning clients. You’ll be surprised by how many business owners trust her judgments.”
"Oh, you tell me. Just take a look at their wallets." Seokjin opened his wallet to show a collection of talismans from his grandmother. One for protection, one for luck, one for love, and more red and yellow papers scattered on the floral duvet. “Doesn’t it mean that I’m doomed if I lose this?”
Jeongguk couldn’t stop giggling when he took his wallet from the jacket. “May I?” he asked before sitting beside Seokjin on the bed. Hanging on his wallet, a small Celtic pentacle amulet, has been there since forever. He also showed off his national ID card, saying, “See, I’m Scottish.”
Seokjin took it to see the card closer. "You look like someone who's born at midnight."
"No, I was born at dawn. What makes you think of that?"
“Wild guess," he deflected and smoothly changed the topic. "I want to visit your mother’s shop and buy something for my sister.”
“Please do. I work there while waiting for my departure. Are you interested in herbs, oils, or candles?”
In you? Why are you so interesting? Can I pin you to the wall?
Unaware of the chaos in Seokjin’s mind, Jeongguk gave his phone to show an Instagram account. Seokjin only scrolled for a bit until he accidentally—as he hoped Jeongguk perceived—clicked the profile page, shifting from @moonriseapothecary to @jaimehan.
Han? Did he make it sound Korean on purpose? It wasn't hard either to pronounce Jaime. At a glance, he seemed close to his mother. In one photo, he didn’t hesitate to kiss her on the cheek. She had identical blue eyes, only with ginger hair, eye makeup, and piercings. Two happy people who had no secret between them. He gave it back feeling emptier. Envier.
A gust of wind knocked the window, and silence filled the air. Their shoulders met, but their eyes darted around the room; to the closet, to the door, to the rainbow monster under the bed.
Looking at the time on this phone, Jeongguk took another chance to make sense of the confusing night. “It’s late. I better find a vacant hostel around here. Thank you for the—”
"Uh, do you…" Seokjin stopped Jeongguk from walking away by holding his hand. The pillow dropped to the floor. "Do you want to stay the night?"
"I…" His thumb brushed the knuckle. Up and down, left and right.
"Look," he stood up and pointed to the window with his chin.
The snow and drizzle were getting heavy. The two men interlaced their fingers in irony. One pulling them down to the bed; one pulling them out to the door, further away to the receptionist who hid behind a fishbowl full of colourful packages. Free treats for the staff and customers.
"Let's make sure we're not going to get in any trouble first," Seokjin said while strengthening the grip. However, Jeongguk let go of the hand because he began to sweat. He didn't feel like himself.
While waiting for the answer from the host, Jeongguk volunteered to clean up the dishes, and Seokjin proceeded to check the log for the fireplace. In the end, Jeongguk got to use the room at half-price since it’s supposed to be for staff. Desperate for alone time to think, both of them showered before sleep.
Jeongguk took a longer time than usual. He believed he shampooed his hair twice. True, he knew the invitation must mean something more, but as usual, he’s nervous in case it's not going to end well. There’s a personal boundary that he didn’t want to cross yet, though he wanted it very much. Other things were fine, but he needed more time for that. More connection. More courage.
"How could you know if you never try?" friends would ask him. He'd answered, "Because I've liked someone. I know exactly what I want, not confused for the slightest bit. It's when I want it."
Could this be the day he's tempted to break his promise? He walked in slow motion and counted the steps back to the bedroom.
It’s pointless.
When he arrived with growing anticipation, Seokjin was setting up his Macbook Air for a video call. 11 PM here in Fort William, 8 AM there in Seoul. Did he or did he not just double checked him? Was it or was it not an awkward smile?
He gave up.
Nevertheless, some parts of the video call consoled him. Seokjin told a story about meeting a junior during the vacation, then introduced Jeongguk to his big family who gathered together on the weekend. They welcomed him, taking turns to say, “Come to our house” and “What do you want to eat?”
If only his father didn’t leave him and his mother, perhaps he could have a big family, too. Visiting relatives as the reason for their entry instead of vacation. Then he could have someone to talk to in Korean, someone who could send him gifts that couldn't be found in Scotland. He quickly erased that short musing about the least deserving person in the whole world.
Always. There’s always an explanation for Seokjin’s behaviour. The radar is off. Otherwise, his mother wouldn’t say, “Have you met Seokjin’s future girlfriend? I can’t believe he didn’t introduce her to us.” Only she knew what more to say if Seokjin didn’t threaten to end the call. Although I guess I misinterpreted things, being with him is enough. I hope he won't ignore me tomorrow.
Jeongguk consoled himself as he retired to the bed. Part relieved because he didn’t have to do the thing that he’s not ready for, part upset because they didn’t get the chance to try even the simplest things that he's been dying to do ever since the first word of Mer. He didn’t have any energy left to talk.
If only he could read Seokjin’s cluttered mind.
Now that I want to be friends with him, or not, or more, or I don’t know. Shut up! The point is, I shouldn't do what I wanted to do before: checking if the experience is going to be any better with a Scottish-Korean man. There must be a reason he escaped to the kitchen and washed all the idle jugs, kettles, and stove. I hope it's not because he doesn't find me attractive.
As he’s tucked in behind the duvet, Seokjin longed at the man across the bed whose eyes were transfixed to a leather-bound book. Pen in his hand, but his body froze. Aware of the annoying gaze by the annoying man, Jeongguk sternly said, “To practise writing in Hangul, I must write a diary entry each night. Stop staring at me.”
“I'm sorry. Really sorry to bother you with my... Uh, please turn off the light when you’re done. Good night." The bed creaked as Seokjin turned his back to face the wall.
And he heard nothing else. A calm, pleasant night with no sound except a crackling wood from the fireplace and deafening heartbeats.
Soon, he dreamed.
In his dream, they’re not three and a half feet apart.
In his dream, he doesn't have to beat himself up from having the dream.
Seokjin wasn’t in the room by the time Jeongguk woke up. After all, this was no holiday for him. At 8 AM, he already did the laundry, vacuumed the common room, then helped the other staff setting up the self-serving breakfast station. At least for the last three days, he only got short morning and night duty. The rest was for exploring the city.
Honouring his alone time, Jeongguk started his morning rite. One drop of herbs-infused oil anointed on his wrist, one-minute sitting meditation, and one glass of water. Before finishing the drink in one gulp, he set an intention. “Today, the weather is good, the sun is bright, and so are we. For the good of all and harm to none. Blessed be.”
It didn’t take long to manifest because Seokjin greeted him without hesitation in the dining room. There’s no trace of last night left from both of them. It’s a new day.
“Hiya. What are you doing today?” Jeongguk put his full plate on the dining table and sat in front of Seokjin. Did he take a shower again this morning? How very Korean of him, he thought.
“What do you recommend, tour guide? I'll do whatever you choose. It’s my last day in Fort William.”
“Last day? I thought you’re going to stay until February.” He stopped biting the toast.
“No, I’m in the UK until February, but I must check out tomorrow morning. New helpers are coming. A couple, so we must empty the beds."
“Back to Edinburgh?” He forgot the meal.
“That’s the plan. I’m going to stay in a friend’s flat for a bit since I’m homeless now. Afterwards, I’ll find another host.”
Jeongguk was unprepared for the answer. In his mind, they had longer than two and a half days together. In winter, the sun’s radiance lasted shorter. Still, he’s determined to make the best out of the limited time under its warmth.
"So, what do you choose? Is it an outdoor activity?" Seokjin asked as he cleared up the table.
"Of course it is. Why did you go to Fort William to stay indoors?" Jeongguk asked back, thoughtless. He's busy browsing the internet in case there's something that he missed.
"Hmm, let's see… Visiting a museum is indoor. One example."
"Tsk, just go to London," Jeongguk scoffed.
Disregarding the indoors, they narrowed down some possible options: skiing, biking, canoeing, hill walking. At last, the first two were the chosen ones. Skiing until lunch, then biking until dinner. No plan on what to do between the night and the morning separation.
For someone who practised for two weeks, Seokjin was much better than Jeongguk imagined. No sloppy line, always made the correct turn. No instructor needed anymore though he wished he was one. When going as fast as they could wasn’t enough, he raised the challenge by including simple jumping tricks. Seokjin failed this time.
There were more laughs, banters, and actions than conversations, yet none of them complained. Being happy together was far less dangerous than being vulnerable with one another.
The lunch was £3 meal deals from Tesco that they could finish straight away, then continued biking around the less touristy area instead of sharing more stories and finding out how much they’re alike, keeping the talk around Loch Ness monsters, unicorns, and kelpies. Unreal beings for unreal meetings. As unlikely as two noons in a row with no showers in Fort William. Someone must have worked on their magic.
Whilst they had to tone things down, Seokjin realised that there’s a better way to work on his doubt than spending the nights out like a lost boy. It brought him shame more than anything. The only takeaway was that he’s sure of what he didn’t like, though it seemed to be expected from every Asian guy here.
In the beginning, the number of messages he received surged his confidence through the roof. It made him feel accepted in the community and validated that he’s attractive enough for Westerners—perhaps his long-term plan could work. The first time, he’s glad as he satisfied his innate curiosity with a more experienced partner. The rest of the time, he enjoyed it less and less. So, what was he?
Making friends won the priority match. Still friends, even when Jeongguk treated him to the best seafood chowder for dinner in an alfresco restaurant with a breathtaking mountain view. This round, he told tales about scotch whisky and distilleries while noting the differences from Korean’s spirits. An advanced payment as he believed Seokjin would do the same to him for the rest of the year. There were at least ten places on their to-go list.
This wasn’t the first time Seokjin visited the restaurant—and the hotel nearby—but he pretended it was.
Because it’s the first time he came here with no pretence, and he wanted to keep it that way by not ruining the precious connection they shared. He could see them being best friends; waiting for each other after classes and between meals, sending dozens of memes, pulling all-nighters in cafes and campus libraries, having a road trip together with the same circle of friends. Then perhaps something else could naturally blossom from that, as most ordinary relationships did. Why must it revolve around superficial dalliance for people like him?
"Do you talk about everything with your mom?" Seokjin asked after noticing how Jeongguk's mother hid in the background of many stories. There’s a clear scepticism in his words.
"Everything. There's nothing that she doesn't know about me. When I was drunk, I called her instead of a friend. She's my safest place."
Seokjin shook his head weakly. "I can't imagine that. I think I lied a lot to my family, and will continue to do so."
Bingo. Jeongguk assumed it must be the reason Seokjin told him not to listen to them. Not because of embarrassment, but perhaps, the future girlfriend didn't exist. Reading the tone of the conversation, he might have a chance after all.
"Not telling doesn't mean lying,” he corrected the flawed confession.
"It's two peas in a pod."
See, it must be that.
"Well, you can tell me anything. I won’t judge and I’m extremely good at keeping secrets." Jeongguk threw his best smile, and Seokjin clammed up. The truth begged to come out, but after a while of tapping his shoes to the floor, he burst out wrong sentences.
"What's this? I'm four years older than you, you know. I’m in my third year because I enlisted after the first. I suppose to be the one who helps you, not the other way around. You're my hoobae."
"Quite rightly. Okay, then, sunbae-nim." Jeongguk spoke politely but with an unmatched tone and glare.
And that's the end of the short big talk of the day, with irritation and regret, respectively. They shared Airpods as they walked to the B&B, avoiding further conversation.
Both of them weren’t sure of what to do and say during their last night, or precisely, if they could prolong it to the next night and the next one. Since they spent the whole day together, Seokjin excused himself first to take a private phone call outside, while Jeongguk replied that he’d call his mother, too, and he preferred to be the one who took a walk as he’s used to the weather. Seokjin refused, saying, "See you," before Jeongguk stood from the bed.
There’s no destination nor direction for the walk. It’s simply better than sitting as the cold would burn his lungs. AirPods on, he cherished the white fog that formed and disappeared together with the whistle of the song that had been replayed in his head since yesterday. He waited for someone to pick up and stop his self-blaming mind.
“Grandma, have you checked the saju palja? Does it matter if it’s dawn without the exact hour?” Seokjin whispered, afraid to disrupt the stillness on the road.
“You’re so impatient. You must like this girl a lot, don’t you? You’re not lying when you said you applied for an exchange to find a girlfriend.”
The forgotten lie again. It’s still true. Only a boyfriend, not a girlfriend. A husband, not a wife. Someone who could provide him with a safety net and a permanent residence someday. He never specified if that someone is a man or a woman to his family, and yet...
“English, isn’t she? Are you sure there’s no Korean girl that you like?” his grandmother pressed him.
“Scottish. And more than sure,” he mocked himself.
All thanks to the night conquest far away from his friends. No one else knew except for his phone and his browser history. He never opened up about this part of him with his family and closest friends, no matter how many secrets they shared. Not this one, he always told himself. He’s not ready in case everyone would leave him, and he would lose everything he achieved until today, being the one who's igniting his own downfall.
His grandmother said that her assistant is currently transcribing the reading. There’s a lot, according to her. Seokjin wanted to know what Jeongguk liked and disliked, what kind of person he was, and the compatibility with his chart. Any information that could help them be more comfortable, increasing the possibility of them being together in the future. A product of anxiety as he waited too long in the bedroom yesterday. From standing up behind the door with half unbuttoned pyjamas to laying down on the carpet with a blanket fort, calling home.
“Send me the photo and I’ll read her fate, too. I want to make sure that she’d crossed the ocean for you,” the grandmother said.
What if I’m the one who stayed here? Why is that never the option, or is my future set in stone already?
“She didn’t like her photo being taken.”
“Nonsense. All young girls love that.”
“She’s not Korean, remember?”
“Then send me a picture of her ID card.” His grandmother was known for her persistence.
“Are you serious? It’s impolite and suspicious, grandma,” Seokjin refused to lose. “But my friend, the one on Facetime yesterday, he’s interested in getting a face reading since there’s nothing like that here.”
“No way. Not for free. It’s only for my future granddaughter in law.”
“I know," he paused to swallow his words. It evaporated to bitterness before he could. "He’d pay. I’ll send you a photo of him.”
He ended the conversation with a heavy heart, before replying to the “I love you” as usual. At a time like this, it didn’t feel real. An unsaid, “No, you wouldn’t if you know the real me,” swirled in his mind. It must be liberating to shout, “Look at your future granddaughter in law, she’s a gyopo man!”
Within minutes, he’s back again at the B&B yet chose to stay in the common room to chit chat and say goodbye to anyone whom he met there. All names had been documented well on his phone, with the last entry on the list being: Jeongguk. The one that comes to mind whenever I see white and blue. Like white wallpaper, blue drapes, and blue sofas around him. Certainly not a rare colour combination. Many chances to miss the man against his will.
Curled on the seat, there’s one more thing that he had to sort out. He logged in to Grindr, then changed his picture to a highland cow and blocked everyone who contacted him. The messages were the same anyway. It’s over.
He fixed his AirPods to listen to a mantra for attracting luck while checking the HelpX website, messaging several hosts in Inverness. Another B&B, housesitting, babysitting, cleaning chicken coops, woodworking, he didn’t care what kind of job. He’d say the host told him to start immediately so that they could take the Scotrail together, visit Moonrise, then meet Jeongguk again by chance after work. If they'd somehow see a Loch Ness monster, nothing else is improbable.
Lastly, he tore the ticket to Edinburgh for a final touch of his chant bath, then let the flame engulfed the worries, releasing the bind in thick, black smoke. Whatever will be, will be.
---
“It’s the first time I ask you for a spellwork, mom,” Jeongguk said as he took a strand of hair from Seokjin’s bed then put it inside the book. “I’m afraid I met the one I like, but he doesn’t see me that way.”
“Excuse me, Mr Jaime Hancock, I’m not a conversion therapist?”
“Nooo,” he whined. His mother could clearly hear him pouting and playing with the fingernails. “I think we're alike—at least half-alike. He just has a lot of baggage because he lives in Korea. I want to be someone who supports and comforts him, helps him open up.”
“Sweetheart, that’s very kind of you but it’s not for you to decide. You know my love spells never fail.”
“How could I not?”
They paused, taken aback by the simple statements.
The damage was done, so his mother continued, “Which means you must deal with the consequences if he’s not the perfect match for you. It can’t tell if he’s a good person or not. Didn’t you learn enough from me?”
“Of course. I’m the living proof.” He rolled his eyes.
It’s best that Seokjin stayed outside the room. Otherwise, he’d witness the cool man sulking on the phone, trying to appeal to his mother. He made sure she understood that this was just a casual crush, not a deep-seated kind of love. Not yet. He only needed a little boost until they fell in love. An assurance that if the future girlfriend did exist, she’s not going to get in the way. An affirmation that Seokjin would stick to his words to visit Moonrise because then he’d have more chances to impress him, being more prepared and less scared.
“How about you invite him home first? Tell him I’m interested to be a part of his research or he could help me in the greenhouse. We’ll discuss the next step after that.”
“Me? Isn’t it too bold? Meeting the parents already?”
"Don't be nervous, he must be a sociable person to be a helper. You can do it." A realisation struck her in an instant. "Is it you, Jaime?"
Silence. There's a sound of finger-snapping through the phone.
"It's you, isn't it?"
"Yesterday," he hid behind a pillow and spoke softly, "we had a great time and... I wanted to make out with him. But I panicked when I saw a bunch of condoms—I don't even know if he took any. It's stressful. They always told me that I'm being unfair. That I'm purposely tricking and leading them the wrong way."
"No, you're not. You're 18."
"They've been doing it since 15."
"But not you, and that's okay."
"I don't want Seokjin to hate me."
"He won't, if he's a gentleman. Shall I invite him, then? Let's say, from a concerned mother who wanted to make sure that his son is safe five thousand miles away?"
“Fine, I’ll do it,” Jeongguk sighed. “Wish me luck, mom. I love you.”
“I love you too. Come home. Tomorrow’s Monday, so don’t forget your shift,” she reminded him then sent a kiss through the air.
Seokjin’s mixed signal was confusing, but Jeongguk was afraid it would be improper to ask him directly. If he indeed had that much internal doubt, his response could be defensive, and it’s not going to end well for both of them. Never talking to each other again was more than possible.
After tossing and turning on the bed, he got a brilliant idea. He straightened his back and installed Grindr.
This was his first time using a dating app since he’s never interested in having one night stands with strangers, or maybe he’s too cowardly to go all the way. His friends proposed the latter theory as the reason his dates never worked into a relationship. The steps were reversed. Because of that, Jeongguk decided that the Western dating culture didn’t suit him, who wanted intimacy to develop slowly, with no other agenda apart from being true to the feelings.
Still, last night was complicated.
What would he do if he met Seokjin on screen? Wouldn’t it be awkward? Even so, it’s better than asking directly. Jeongguk chose a photo when he’s blonde and wearing sunglasses to make it less noticeable. He only stopped bleaching his hair recently as he knew that he’d go to Korea soon. Instead, he bought several packs of black contact lenses.
Scrolling through the page, he didn’t see any sign of Seokjin until it got too far from the current location. “What’s a hairy coo doing here?” He ended up tapping the flame and messaging the strangest and nearest account that he found. “Believe me, you’re the cutest one on this app,” he wrote.
Waiting for a reply that never came, he shortly deleted his account. Enough of the old men, especially to one particular account. “No Black, no Asian, go to Jack'd? Rude. I guess no one would date you either in this day and age.”
He shoved his phone under the pillow then took out his grimoire. At the back of the book, there’s a keepsake envelope. Inside it, a collage paper that stunned him yesterday. He never seriously learned about his mother’s craft, only started digging deeper and casting spells after high school to get into Sungkyunkwan. It worked, so he shouldn’t be surprised when the second spell came true.
The technique was called candle magic. Something that everyone did during their birthday, only elevated this time. He cast a circle on his mother's altar, wrote his intention on a piece of paper, put it inside a jar, covered it with herbs, then lit a special candle on top of it. While watching the wax melt all the way down to the end, he glued the pictures to make a collage of the things he desired.
His paper was full of Korean landscape, the university building, an apartment instead of a dorm, Hyukoh and Jannabi’s concert, books in Hangul to represent fluency in Korean, then the last one was a photo of a group of university students during a road trip in Ulsan, taken without permission from a student’s blog. Among the four students, there’s one with hearts surrounding his face, drawn by permanent red ink. It symbolised his wish of having a college boyfriend, the closest to his type. Tall, sturdy shoulders, kind eyes.
But he never asked the universe to be that man. He made the collage months ago and didn’t realise until yesterday when the face in front of him appeared in the book. The same night, he knew the reason his mother said that he’s wasting his potential by not practising. Everyone’s getting into university, but not everyone met someone this way.
It’s time for the night meditation. Two days ago, he received a strong calling to go to Ben Nevis for a short weekend getaway. Today, who knows?
One had his hands on the chest; one had his hands on the door handle. The two of them were repeating the same words every night until they knew that it’s true.
I am loved, I am loved, I am loved.
Clack.
“Jeongguk.” “Hyung.”
“You first,” both of them said as one, followed by an identical sheepish laugh and a wide smile.
I am loved, I am loved, I am loved.