#also i was born right before lunchtime in seoul

[jasminerva]

All About Me!

WHO: Jas, Jasmine (she/her) WHAT: 🇰🇷 🇨🇦, ♍️☀️ ♈️🌙 ♏☝️, INTJ WHERE: Canada, eh~ WHEN: Sept 13, 1992 (I joke about how old I am but I still act like a spoiled bébé) WHY: “Be a voice, not an echo.” - Albert Einstein

[wrienne]

My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 8: Wrath

It was your parents.

“Sweetie? We’re sorry we haven’t been able to call you back until now - Jungkook’s parents have been in an uproar ever since noon, trying to find a cheap ticket back to Seoul. We didn’t make you worried, right?”

Your father’s soft, low, humming voice comforted your ear. You had admittedly been slightly concerned when they hadn’t answered even at lunchtime. You had left a voicemail that you had something important to tell them, but not had the time to consider it any longer due to school and battle planning.

“Did you know their boy was in an accident yesterday night?”

Your mother’s sharp voice pierced through the line, making you grimace. She was a lovely woman, strong, determined and the female you admired the most in the whole world, but her voice could seriously cut diamonds.

“Yes,” you said, holding the phone slightly away from your ear as you lowered the volume. “I was with him at AMC and he’s--”

“Good Lord,” your mother exclaimed, interrupting you. You could already see her shocked expression and her clutching her cross necklace. “Was it so bad he had to go to the hospital? What happened?”

“Well, he--”

“I thought he was supposed to be performing with his band yesterday.” your father added.

You sighed. Whenever you spoke with your parents, they were like this. Stuck by the heads, knowing the other so well they could complement as well as end each others’ sentences. They were even equally skilled at interrupting you.

“Hush, darling,” your mother said. “She’s trying to explain. As you were, (Y/N),” she prompted you.

“As I was just about to say before both of you interrupted me,” you began, stepping aside to let an old woman past, “he somehow miraculously survived being hit by a car and only broke his arm. However--”

“There, I told you,” your mother said to presumably your father. “That boy has more vigor than a cat with ninety-nine lives and more luck than is humanly possible. He must have an angel guarding him.”

“Stop dad,” you said before he could voice his input. “Jungkook is alright physically. It’s just that--”

“Did he scratch that handsome face of his?” your mother asked. “Or did he get any other unsightly marring on his body?”

Her tone made it sound like you had told her the Louvre had been set ablaze. She loved expensive art and was particularly fond of old European artistry. The burning of the Louvre would have broken her.

“No, mom,” you said wearily. “But he’s gotten amnesia.”

“What is that?” your father asked after both of them had paused for a beat.

“It means he cannot remember the most recent years of his life.”

“So...?”

“He doesn’t know anything about his company or his members. He is kind of skittish also, and has a hard time trusting people, even the doctors.”

“But he’s quite fine? You’ve met and spoken with him?”

You nodded, even though you knew they couldn’t see you. “Yes, he still knows and trusts me.”

“What about his career?” your mother asked.

“That’s the trickiest part,” you told them, feeling strangely relieved to have someone to share your concerns with. Even if these someones were your parents. “There was a specialist at the hospital who spoke with his manager, who in turn told me. There is a kind of unconventional way to get his memories back, but there’s no guarantee it’ll work. I am going to try and make him remember the past five or so years through...” You hesitated, not really certain what you should call the sloppily written list you had tucked into your back pocket. “...various techniques,” you decided finally.

“I see,” your father said. “I don’t understand why they’re in such a rush back home then.”

“Well, he did get hit by a car,” your mother said pointedly.

“Very well. Now, (Y/N), what was it you just had to tell us?”

You stiffened. It was time for you to tell them you had broken the engagement. You opened your mouth to speak, but found your throat constricted. You swallowed hard, then tried again. To your parents' credit, they didn’t try to push you. Perhaps they had heard the tension in your mere gulp.

“Jungkook…” you began slowly. “He has a girlfriend.”

Your voice broke. Your chest ached. You hated it, but the image of Jungkook and Park Yi-Jae resurfaced in your mind for what felt like the hundredth time. Even though it felt like your heart was threatening to break out of your body, you couldn’t lie and pretend everything was alright. You wouldn’t intercept their love.

Silence. Deafening silence.

“Are you certain?” your mother suddenly asked.

Surprisingly, your father didn’t step in to add something to the conversation.

“I saw them yesterday, before the accident,” you answered. “They looked very happy together.”

“Is it someone you know? Do you know her name?”

“Does he remember her?”

“Park Yi-Jae,” you managed, even as you frowned at the third question. “No,” you told your mother.

“That Park Yi-Jae?” Your father almost raised his voice. He never raised his voice. “The girl always prancing around on TV?”

“Shush, you hypocrite. You always watch her shows."

“I do not!”

“So that’s why they’re in such a hurry back home,” your mother muttered, ignoring your father. “They’re probably going to try and do some damage control and get you back with Jungkook. I told you I didn’t hear it wrong.”

“Wait, you knew?” you wondered incredulously. You felt your fingers tighten around your phone. “Still you wanted me to tell you?”

“We didn’t know what to believe until we had heard it from you, sweetie,” your father said in an attempt to calm you down. “Your mother heard it only faintly. She’s grown so old, we can no longer rely on her magical ears solely.”

Your mother did have eerily good hearing. Not necessarily when she and you argued over some petty things or whenever you told her you needed to bring food for an outdoor trek or something as a child, though that could have been because she stubbornly refused to listen or was too busy working. But she could hear gossip from the other side of a fully sat and vibrantly busy restaurant and hear the first few drops of water before a rainfall.

“You need to get back together with that boy, (Y/N).”

“No,” you said automatically, woken out of your brief reverie.

“Yes you do and you will. It is absolutely imperative.”

“He loves her,” you said stiffly. “Even though he can’t remember, I know he does. The way they were, just, it was--”

“It doesn’t matter, (Y/N). You and Jungkook have to marry.”

“Perhaps,” you said sharply, getting ever angrier. “But not to one another, we don’t.”

“Don’t be childish, of course you two will marry each other. You’re perfect for him and he’s perfect for you. There’s no question you will make a beautiful couple.”

“We don’t want to,” you said coolly. “I don’t want to marry him.”

“Darling, perhaps--” your father began.

“No, don’t you try,” your mother snapped at your father. “(Y/N), this marriage was decided the year the two of you were born. You will not undo it just because Jungkook hurt your feelings by sleeping with another woman.”

“No!” you shouted suddenly. Your eyes stung and your voice sounded wrong, harsh, and the bleak interior of the hallway made for awful acoustics. “It’s nothing like that, don’t you get it? Don’t answer it, by the way, I have homework and other stuff to do, so I can’t talk anymore.”

“We will talk about this when we get back, (Y/F/N).”

Without exchanging goodbyes, you ended the call abruptly. Still, you heard your mother’s voice, as if on repeat inside your skull. The words coiled around you and cut into your skin, like cold metal wire, and you seriously considered punching one of the mailboxes. Deciding that it would cause ten times more harm to you than you could ever hope to inflict on it, you leaned your forehead against the cool, concrete wall and tried your best not to scream in fury, frustration or whatever else the enormous swirl of emotions stewing about in your stomach could be called.

You heard the double glass doors open behind you and two or three pairs of feet hurry inside, probably eager to get in from the cold. You didn’t consider the vague familiarity of their voices as they immediately began whispering loudly. You didn’t even notice someone approaching you until they touched your shoulder lightly.

“Excuse me?” asked a light male voice. “Is everything alright?”

You spun about as you wiped your eyes. The guy recoiled sharply, his eyes widening first in surprise then in something else. He was shorter than the other two guys standing by the elevator with grocery bags in each of their hands, both at a safe running distance toward the entrance doors should you have shown yourself to be some weirdo. All three were dressed casually, like typical guys about your age, and with their faces and hair covered, you almost didn’t recognize them.

But they recognized you.

“(Y/F/N)!”

It was V, or perhaps more accurately: Kim Taehyung. You recognized him for his low voice now and because he was Se-Eun’s favorite member after Jungkook, something she had reprimanded you very heavily about during lunch when you had guessed her “list” completely wrong.

“What is she doing here?” The guy who had approached you on his own looked from his friends to you, obviously confused. You were fairly sure he was Park Jimin.

“Don’t ask me, ask her,” mumbled the third one. He hadn’t taken off his mouth mask so you couldn’t see anything except his eyes. You couldn’t tell who he was, but he was shorter than Taehyung yet taller than Jimin.

Taehyung caught you off guard by approaching you with solid determination, passing Jimin, who had backed a few additional steps, without even a glance. He stopped almost directly in front of you, his eyes hard, his eyebrows knitted tightly together.

“What did you do to Jungkook?” he demanded.

“I--” Your voice broke, and you cleared your throat. “I did nothing to him.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Taehyung strained to lift the hand he held the drooping grocery bag with and pointed a surprisingly long, elegant finger at you. He didn’t touch you, merely hovered it in front of your chest, yet you could feel the tension in the room suddenly skyrocket. “You told him something or did something that made him... angry like that. It’s your fault he can’t remember any one of us and might never be able to perform again. Don’t you get it? It’s your fault!”

It was as if his words breached the dam of guilt you had felt growing larger ever since you got the first call from Kim Sejin. Now, you weren’t about to cry in front of people you barely knew, at least because of the absurdity in the whole situation. Your second way of dealing with emotions seemed much better however, since, unlike the mailboxes, Taehyung’s jaw or nose probably could break without you breaking, too.

“Damn it, Taehyung!”

The guy you hadn’t been able to identify dropped his grocery bags and stormed toward you. He stepped in between the two of you as he firmly pushed Taehyung away, then tore off his mouth mask. Though, from this angle, you could still not see much else than the back of his head and his shoulders.

“It’s nobody’s fault!” he barked. “It was an accident. Jungkook was drunk and wandered a bit off the pavement, while the driver was tired and perhaps shouldn’t have driven. This isn’t really anyone’s fault, least of all (Y/N), who wasn’t even there!”

“Hoseok-hyung is right,” said Jimin quietly. “We can’t just put the blame on something or someone because it’s easy. It’s not right.”

Hoseok. Jung Hoseok. J-Hope. Now, you knew who Taehyung’s nose or jaw savior was.

Taehyung didn’t even seem like he had heard what the other two guys had said. He glared at you, ostensibly furious, and you suddenly wondered what would have happened if Hoseok wouldn’t have stepped in. You doubted an idol would have the folly to harm a civilian, but one never knew.

Then finally, Taehyung broke away from your gaze and went surly toward the elevator. There, he leaned against the wall beside the buttons and checked his phone after placing the grocery bags on the floor.

Hoseok turned around and, noticing how close you two stood together, quickly took a step back. He gave you a friendly smile.

“Sejin-manager told me you slept at the hospital with him,” he said carefully, like he was worried you would snap. “I presume he recognizes you?”

You nodded. You didn’t trust your voice just yet.

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Hoseok, genuine relief filling his eyes and smile. “How is he?”

“He’s annoying,” you couldn't help but say, and was glad to find your tone steady. “He won’t eat, wear the hospital gowns or obey the professionals. I was practically forced to stay there over the night.”

Hoseok chuckled almost hesitantly, as if he didn’t know whether you were kidding or not. “Ah, well, he’s always been a proud kid.”

“Too proud,” you agreed.

“What are you doing here?” asked Jimin. He crouched by the grocery bags Hoseok had dropped and carefully put back the items that had spilled out.

“I came here to pick up some of Jungkook’s clothes.” You held up the largest duffel bag you had found at home, which, if not for the brand name plastered all over it, would have looked like a body bag. You couldn’t wrap your head around why people found stuff like that fashionable. But then, perhaps only morbid people had the means to spend thousands on something as ugly as that bag. Your mother had bought it years ago. “I was just about to call one of you and ask which floor you live on.”

“Sejin gave you our numbers, huh?” Hoseok curled a finger around his chin. “I’m not sure about how I feel with our manager giving our numbers to an unknown girl.”

“I did consider auctioning them out,” you admitted. “Not for the money, but merely to see which type of people believed me and how much they would be willing to spend.”

He frowned, again a bit suspicious about the nature of your words, before he laughed. “Not exactly what I would have done if I were in your shoes, but that’s interesting to hear. Jungkook never told us about you, so I had no idea you had humor like this. Actually… have you eaten dinner yet?”

“No,” you replied before you realized what you had said.

“Great. Eat with us.”

[yumeiii]

Chapter 1

Love can be great. It makes you feel warm inside, be so invested in a person that you don’t know what to do with your feelings, be loved and give love. But the majority of the time, love is ruthless. It can be unrequited, it sometimes doesn’t work out and it can make you feel so miserable you don’t have any strength left in you. Being young and having to deal with school, social life and love isn’t as easy as it seems and it’s been quite the ride for a certain group of students in Seoul.

Seo Seyoung, a junior in highschool with light brown hair and brown eyes, stopped by her family’s cafe before going to school, getting her daily bagel before heading out. The cafe was a side business so her parents entrusted the cafe to her older brother, Johnny.

Johnny Seo was tall, athletic, smart, funny and attractive with his brown hair, deep brown eyes and impeccable fashion. He also took good care of Seyoung and she knew she was basically privileged to have the most perfect brother. They were one year apart but she wondered why they were so different.

Seyoung arrived at school to see her best friend, Nanase Ayumi, sitting at her desk, probably doing the homework she forgot to do the day before. Ayumi was average in height but a bit taller than Seyoung, with black hair and light brown eyes, she was energetic, friendly and an amazing person to confide in.

— “Hey Yumi-ya” Seyoung greeted.

— “Oh, Seyoung-ah! Goodmorning!” Ayumi exclaimed energetically. “Did Jinyoung text you yet?”

— “Not yet...” Seyoung replied.

Jinyoung was Seyoung’s boyfriend. Tall, smart, popular and handsome but these days, Seyoung noticed that he was acting differently. He wasn’t replying to her texts, he had been a bit cold with her and not to mention that he was always busy for whatever reason.

— “See? I told you that bastard wouldn’t be good for you! He’s been paying you pure dust lately!” Ayumi complained.

— “Ayu, it’s not that big of a deal… he’s just busy,” Seyoung said.

— “But you do realise that you’re his girlfriend, right? There’s literally no reason why he should be ignoring you like this. What if he ends up ghosting you?!” Ayumi replied.

— “You worry too much! He’s not the type to do that” Seyoung exclaimed

— “Okay, then but if he does anything to you, I’m murdering him, understood?” Ayumi asked with a frown on her face.

— “Yeah, fine,” Seyoung laughed.

The homeroom teacher entered the classroom, marking the start of the first lecture of the day. Seyoung didn’t dare to think that Jinyoung would ghost her or that he was ignoring him on purpose but she still couldn’t get the thought out of her mind. She had better get rid of those feelings before her brother found out and started asking her about it, knowing how protective he is.

The bell rang, signaling the start of lunchtime as two boys came to Seyoung and Ayumi’s shared desk. They were Seyoung’s childhood besties, Donghyuck and Mark.

— “Hey can we go buy some banana milk? I have a strong craving today” Mark asked.

Mark Lee (or Korean name Lee Minhyung), was born in Jeju before moving to canada when he was 7 and coming back to korea when he was 13. He was the average height with black hair and bright eyes. He was adorable, a dork and a bit clumsy sometimes but he was the best friend anyone could have.

— “You have a craving for banana milk everyday, Mark Lee,” Hyuck complained.

Lee Donghyuck, nicknamed Hyuck, was the self-appointed #1 Seo Seyoung and Mark Lee bully. He was about the same height as Mark, with tanned skin, light brown hair and a bright smile. He’s known for being pretty mischievous and a bit over-the-top when teasing his friends but he will fight anyone who dares disrespect anyone he loves.

— “Damn Hyuck, give the man a break” Ayumi laughs as she rolls her eyes.

— “Not my fault that banana milk is the only thing he drinks,” Hyuck responded as he defended himself.

— “Well, there’s no use fighting about it so let’s go get Minhyung his milk” Seyoung smiled.

The group of friends were on one of the hallways as they made their way to the canteen just to be stopped by Johnny, who went up to his sister and his childhood friends.

— “Hey Elena!” Johnny exclaimed cheerfully. Elena was Seyoung’s english name but she didn’t really like using it but since Johnny and Seyoung communicate in english, Johnny saw it as the perfect opportunity to tease her about it.

— “Bro seriously, when will you stop using that name on me?” Seyoung sighed, annoyed.

— ”Never. So hey, I just wanted to ask you if you were short on money” Johnny said.

— “I’m fine but why?” Seyoung asked curiously.

— “I mean, I really wouldn’t want you to not have money because I don’t want you skipping any meals” as Johnny lectured his younger sister, another tall figure approached them.

— “Johnny, Xiao’s looking for you,” The tall young man said.

— “Oh Yuta, wait a sec,” Johnny responded.

— “Sunbae, hello” the younger group of friends greeted as they bowed.

— “Guys, you don’t need to bow! All of you know how close we are” Yuta smiled.

Nakamoto Yuta was a guy from japanese descent studying in korea, while also being the soccer team’s captain. He was tall, handsome, with dark brown hair reaching the middle of his neck and bright brown eyes. He was also one of Johnny’s best friends so he got to know Seyoung and the others very well.

— “So, sunbae! How’s the soccer team doing?” Mark asked politely.

— “Well, we’re getting in a little bit of extra training because inter-highs are in 2 months. We’ve also got some pretty good new additions to the team” Yuta responded.

— “It’s gotta be hard being the captain,” Ayumi commented.

— “I love doing it so I personally think it’s not that hard,” Yuta laughed as he was interrupted by a voice calling his name.

— “Sunbae! The coach is calling you!” Seyoung recognized the owner of the voice as Na Jaemin, one of the most popular guys in the whole school. He had everything: tall, smart, good at sports, kind and funny. It was no surprise that he had a girlfriend.

— “Oh, I gotta go. It was nice seeing you guys!” Yuta said before running off.

— “Wow… Yuta sunbae is so cool...” Mark said surprised.

— “I have to agree,” Hyuck nodded.

— “Well brother, we gotta go. We need to get Mark his daily dose of banana milk” Ayumi stated.

— “Right. I’ll see you later!” Johnny answered as he smiled and left to look for his friend.

After the quartet went to the canteen and got Mark his much desired banana milk, they went outside and sat down at their usual hideout: an old clubroom in the third building of the school. It was a bit dirty when they first found it but after Ayumi forced everyone to clean it up with her, it became a quiet space for the group to have fun since not many people knew of it and they were the only ones to have the key to the room itself after they begged faculty for it. They were currently sitting down on the table and chairs they had brought into the clubroom talking about whatever they wanted as they enjoyed their breaktime.

— “He hasn’t talked to you yet?!” Donghyuck asked, surprised.

— “Yeah but maybe he’s just busy...” Seyoung answered quietly.

— “But even if he was busy, he can actually put aside like two seconds of his time and text you? It’s not that hard” Mark said as he sipped a bit of his banana milk.

— “That’s what I told her! They’re dating and it doesn’t make any sense that Jinyoung is ignoring her like this” Ayumi agreed.

— “Seyoung, bro, he’s literally ghosting you at this point” Donghyuck commented as Seyoung tensed up.

— “Hyuck, don’t say that!” Mark exclaimed as he rubbed Seyoung’s shoulder in empathy.

— “He’s right, though. Seyoung-ah, if you want this relationship to last, you need to confront him about it! It’s really not fair for you” Ayumi said.

— “I want to but I really can’t do it!” Seyoung whined as Ayumi took some time to think of an alternative.

— “Oh, I know! Let’s make a deal” Ayumi smiled. “If you promise to confront Jinyoung, I’ll confess to Jungwoo”

Mark and Donghyucks’ jaws dropped to the floor as Seyoung went deep into thought. Jungwoo Kim was Ayumi’s one year crush. They were casual friends and they got along well and she fell for his kindness, calming presence, as well as his humour which never failed to brighten up her day. She could never find the right time to confess to him but she would do it if it could help her best friend.

— “... tempting,” Seyoung said after a long silence.

— “Tempting?! This is more than tempting! Just do it!!” Donghyuck exclaimed.

— “I don’t want to force you into anything but you should really do it” Mark agreed.

— “So, what do you say?” Ayumi asked as she put her hand out for a handshake.

— “Call” Seyoung answered as she took Ayumi’s hand and shook it. “We both need to do it before classes end today or else we’re getting a punishment chosen by Lee Donghyuck himself”

— “Oooh this is gonna be good” Donghyuck smiled evilly as a thousand ideas went through his mind on how to embarrass them in the most cruel way possible.

— “Call” Ayumi agreed as both friends sealed their promise.

Some time later, Seyoung mustered up the courage to look for Jinyoung and tell him how she felt. Her heartbeat sped up like crazy as she walked down the halls of the school in search of her boyfriend. She got to his classroom as she was met with a surprise: Jinyoung kissing another girl. Seyoung felt her blood boiling and all of her feelings of timidness faded away as they were replaced by pure anger.

— “Choi Jinyoung!” Seyoung exclaimed in anger.

— “Seyoung-ah?!” Jinyoung said surprised as the girl at his side was equally confused

— “You ghosted me and to make it worse you’re also cheating on me?!” Seyoung asked

— “Cheated on you?! Jinyoung-ah, what’s the meaning of this?” the other girl inquired.

— “Wait! Seyoung-ah, Minju-ya, I can explain!” Jinyoung said hastedly

— “There’s nothing to explain. We’re over” Seyoung said as a tear ran down her face and ran out of the classroom.

MASTERLIST

[rkjinwook]

how far i’ll go 💫

161111  |  After your audition piece, the panel members begin to discuss the main points of your performance. Their voices are way too soft, preventing you from getting a clue on what they are talking about. They take a few more minutes to share notes with each other before their attention shifts back to you. Once all of them return to their respective seats, the male instructor sitting on the left of Baek Jiyoung speaks up.

“It was obvious that you were nervous at the beginning of the performance,” he begins. “It’s understandable, but it’s also very important to remember that idols should know how to contain that energy as soon as you stand in front of your audience.”

Another instructor raises the pencil trapped between her fingers to add her own opinion. “I personally noticed how you were going back and forth between extending your emotions towards the audience, and then singing like you are in your own world.” She then smiles at you and continues, “To me, there was a little bit of inconsistency, though I am confident you will be able to smoothen it out with more experience.”

All of them soon get up from their chairs and head out of the room. Baek Jiyoung, however, stops in front of you for a few words. “We have all agreed that we saw something better compared to the last time you were on the MGAs. With that said, I expect that you’re ready to see further improvement with us at Sphere.” The CEO then holds out the envelope in her hand that contains your contract, and flashes a warm smile. “If you have questions, the receptionist will be happy to assist you, alright? Congratulations, Jinwook-sshi.”

jinwook used to lie out for hours at night, watching the movement of the stars across the sky. these were some of the only times when he actually felt comfortable being alone - when he had the stars for company. they shone brightly enough that sometimes, it felt like he could just reach up and grab one, and pull it down to earth, and let it grant his most impossible wishes. all of his dreams felt within reach sometimes, right there on the outskirts of his grandmother’s village.

you can’t see the stars in seoul, though. since he left jeju, jinwook’s learned to seek them out himself. they’re not in the sky, here; he’s discovered them hidden among everyone else. they’re blown up to a hundred times life-size and plastered on the sides of buildings; they’re slinking through side streets, bright hair concealed beneath baseball caps and face masks. they’re fresh-faced trainees handing out flyers on the corner at lunchtime. jinwook’s met a few stars himself; he’s stood eye to eye with the ceo of nova entertainment and felt his intensity even from meters away.

there’s a star right in front of him now, the fairest of them all — jinwook’s heart stops as baek jiyoung approaches, and he wonders if that envelope in her hand means he could be one of them, one day.

her words flow like honey, taking a few moments to seep in. only then, the paper burns bright between his fingertips, and this is how stars are born, thinks jinwook. the pressure gets too hot and too dense that it explodes beyond his heart and past his chest, igniting a fire in him that shoots lightning through his veins.

he bounces on his toes with energy and the audition room swells with stunned laughter, his excitement too much to contain in even the widest of smiles.

left alone, jinwook takes a seat near the end of the panel ( not baek jiyoung’s - talk about sacrilege ). he scrawls his name across the first signature line in sight, so quickly that the ink almost smudges as he skims to find the next blank.

documenting such information is probably against contract, but he takes a picture of each page to send to his father later. it’s a compromise — jinwook’s never been a student who could do readings all the way through in one sitting, but he can’t bear to wait on this opportunity either. maybe part of him fears that if he leaves the building before committing, baek jiyoung will change her mind about him. ( besides, it probably contains all the same clauses as the nova contract, and he had studied that one ad nauseum. )

after each page is initialed, jinwook squats with his camera app still open and sets the side of his phone level on the table: an angled, artsy shot of his signature, crisp black on white with sphere’s letterhead in soft focus above it. though he won’t be able to use the photo for anything public, it’s a little keepsake for a moment worth savoring.

he switches apps and repeats the shot, this time in snapchat, captioned with exclamation points and a wide range of emoji stickers. it’s intended for his siblings and a few of his closest friends. after a moment’s hesitation, jinwook adds all his old sphere teammates to the recipient list as well.

a flip of the camera frames his follow-up message, a cheesy selfie blurred by excitement. this one goes to jinri: “lunch on me??!”

after excitedly texting his family, jinri’s the first person he wants to celebrate with, given how big of a role she played in his journey here. it hits him that she’s somewhere in the building at this very moment. she even knows where his audition room was scheduled, though she wouldn’t be careless enough to linger around.

jinwook’s eyes drop to the contract again, reminded of the rules contained within it. his pinky trails the margins of the heavy, official papers as he hunts for one tiny clause. his gaze lingers when he finds it - all trainees will not be allowed to date while signed under sphere entertainment.

the stern print gives him pause. it’s been a few months since jinri’s breached her own contract, and nothing bad has come of their relationship - but still, jinwook isn’t flippant about breaking rules. not usually.

in a fit of petulance, he snaps a pic of the pesky, unforgiving sentence. he doodles a broken heart in the margin of the photo and sends it off to jinri with a sense of invincibility. nothing has to change.

he just wants to see her. he flips the signed contract closed and practically skips down the halls with it. the receptionist shares a knowing smile at jinwook’s glowing aura as she accepts the envelope from him.

( he’s familiar with her by now. it’s same woman who’d checked him in every day during the mgas. even if the receptionist doesn’t remember him, she will learn quickly, jinwook thinks. she’ll be seeing a lot more of him from now on. )

under the table he hooks his ankle into jinri’s, a natural, practiced motion. it’s subtle, like it’s always had to be, like it always will be - even more so now that both of them are under sphere’s watch.

“��something better than they last saw in the mgas,” he continues without missing a beat, his voice imitating the cadence of baek jiyoung’s. “then she said congratulations and gave me the contract, and then… that was it, i guess? it was that simple?”

jinwook recalls the stomach-turning stress of his nova audition in august. he’d normally shudder at the memory, but today a light laugh bubbles up out of him instead.

“you know,” he says, slowing his words so he can consider each one before voicing it. “i thought my heart was still with royal, but i feel like this must be in the stars, or something.” he looks up and flushes at the intensity of jinri’s gaze. it’s not exactly table talk, but he’s afraid he’ll lose the words if he doesn’t say them as they come. “really. maybe it’s you, maybe i’d just agree with anything baek jiyoung said. i know beggars shouldn’t be choosers…” he swallows and nudges jinri’s ankle, a small smile lifting his lips with the remark. “but something keeps bringing me back to sphere.”

2014-high-school-graduate-jinwook, pouring his heart out to the stars, would take comfort in knowing that his prayers were worth something after all. he’d hardly believe his eyes. jinwook’s gotten into university, moved to the big city, competed on tv, got the girl, got the dream job.

so much change in the past three years! he just hopes he can make it all work together. jinwook closes his eyes and imagines the next two years under sphere entertainment — there’s just no telling how far he’ll go.

[complexmagrparchive]

                                   JE SUIS PARTIE LÀ-BAS

NAME › Im Sowon D.O.B. › 02 18 1992 (25) OCCUPATION › Picture Editor at Complex INSTA › @sowonim

PORTFOLIO

EMPLOYMENT

The Star – Assistant Picture Editor (May 2015 - July 2015) Complex – Picture Editor (November 2015 - Present) INTERNSHIP

The New Standard Edition – Photographer/Social Media Intern (December 2013 - February 2014) Blanc Magazine – Fashion Assistant Intern (June 2014 - July 2014) 10 Magazine – General Editorial Intern (August 2014 - December 2014)

SKILLS

Proficient in using latest photo editing software and high-end digital cameras

Ability to handle multiple projects simultaneously and independently

Excellent coordination and communication skills

ACCOMPLISHMENTS

Completed summer intensive in Paris at Parsons The New School

Traveled through Europe for fashion trend research

Various humanitarian experience working with and leading diverse teams

EDUCATION

Paris College of Art – Bachelor’s Degree Study Abroad Program FIT (Fashion Institute of Technology) – Bachelor of Fine Arts in Photography

DETAILS

She’s born to a young but ambitious couple: a woman in her late 20′s who works as an English teacher and a man in his mid 30′s who works as a U.S. diplomat. Their career choices has brought them together on this joyous day to not only celebrate their Parisian experience, but also their first and last child: Im Sowon.

The first decade and a half of Sowon’s life is spent as a traveler, as she doesn’t have a place to really call home. They’re always moving, leaving–and it happens so frequently that eventually, Sowon just stops trying to make a home out of places altogether.

Her parents value cultural diversity, so she’s given private lessons about heritages, languages, and everything in between. Somewhere along the way, the United States becomes a mandatory subject because “That’s where our home is, back in New York City.” But before Sowon can even process that there had been a Statue of Liberty before an Eiffel Tower, she was already taking in Spanish verbs and conjugations.

Sowon’s heart breaks every three years. Because it is every three years that their family has to relocate, because it is every three years that Sowon loses friends and loved ones, because it is every three years that she is reminded, agonizingly so, that nothing for her is permanent.

They’re snuggling on the back of a pickup truck when she realizes that Prince Charming does exist and he’s right here, in Bali. He’s only sixteen–a year older than her–but he already has life figured out and wants her to experience it all with him. Sowon is taken aback by the concept of commitment, however, and dismisses his proposal for the stars above. (“They’re so pretty.”)

Memories are kept by her in photographs. On her last day in Jakarta, she uses her father’s digital SLR camera to take sentimental shots of the people and places of Indonesia. Despite it only being her first attempt, her mother considers–and even insists–that Sowon take up one or two photography lessons as soon as they land in Italy.

Italy is short-lived, but it’s also where circumstances for Sowon begin to change. Here, she falls in love with the culture, the scenery, the wide avenues, and then ultimately, photography–all within a year. It’s only meant to be a hobby, really, but Milan Fashion Week kicks off and she finds herself sitting in front of the television, gaping at the magic unfolding right before her eyes. Maybe this is her calling. Sowon decides she wants to study fashion photography.

They return to the States shortly after. She finishes the last two years of high school in New York and attends the Fashion Institute of Technology the following semester. By then, her parents are already abroad. It’s in these crucial years of independence that Sowon develops a sense of identity, all the while balancing school and internships.

Although her mind is in the right place, her heart is not. She wants to stay committed, find something worthwhile to keep her in New York–but alas, Sowon is ultimately homesick. Not for France, Brazil, or Indonesia, but possibly for somewhere she’s never been to. (Her heart doesn’t break anymore. It’s still in pieces, waiting to be put back together, and maybe that’s why she can’t stay still.)

10Mag hires her and she leaves for Seoul the morning of.

Lesson One: Sowon le Fou.

“They’re stealing my shit.”

It’s one a.m. when Sowon phones her friend from New York. Their conversation is supposed to go something along the lines of, ‘You’re getting married?’ and ‘No way, congratulations!’, but the festive atmosphere quickly fades ten minutes in and all that’s left, really, is a distressed Sowon, who isn’t much of a happy person to begin with.

“Who?”

“The picture editor at The Star. He’s taking advantage of me because I’m only an assistant.” Sowon emphasizes the word ‘assistant,’ because she knows that’s the root of the problem. “They would respect me more if I wasn’t new.”

“Have you tried confronting him?”

Sowon laughs, dryly. “You really think he’d admit it? That guy? Anyway, the company has his back,” she deadpans, sinking into her couch, “I hate the seniority customs they have here. He’s older than me, so I don’t know if I can do much.”

“Right,” her friend responds, “and it’s The Star you’re working for as well. I doubt anyone has the time to deal with image theft.”

“I should still do something about it though, right?” Sowon asks, seeking moral support.

A short pause, and then: “Yes.”

Lesson Two: Le Mépris.

Seoul is expected to have a thunderstorm sometime around noon. Sowon suspects, as lunchtime is approaching, that maybe that’s a sign for doom–a foreshadowing that her confrontation with the editor-in-chief won’t end too well.

She almost backs out of the plan too, until her thief throws a look her way that screams ‘Tu es completement débile.’ – And that’s all it takes for her to barge into the editor-in-chief’s office, honestly.

“Sajangnim,” Sowon begins, and she feels her confidence withering the longer she waits for a reply.

The editor-in-chief looks up from his desk and gives her a pointed look. (The disrespect.)

Sowon continues, “My work has been stolen by Mr. Lee for the third time. I wish you would say something about it to the staff so that I don’t always look like-”

“But aren’t we all working together?”

She swallows her words.

“We’re in the same team, Sowon-ssi. I don’t see a problem when our number one goal is to attract our readers.”

“Excuse me?” Sowon asks. She has to mentally run through a list of French conjugations to diffuse her anger, but the more she stares at the editor-in-chief, the more aggravated she becomes. “I just want credit, is all.”

“Is this really something we should be talking about right now?”

Sowon doesn’t answer.

“Yah, why aren’t you working? Is it even your lunch break yet?”

It’s one thing to be disrespected by her colleagues, but to have her boss of all people stare at her and treat her with disdain is both damaging and degrading.

Sowon hates the way he looks at her–hates the way all her seniors look at her, as if she hadn’t worked hard enough to get here.

Her employment status is still fairly new (three months since she’s been with The Star), but the lack of recognition irks her, gets under her skin. She can’t stand the seniority customs, the mindset that elders are automatically right, no matter how wrong they are. They say it’s best to pay no heed to their words, because what do they know? But sometimes, ignorance isn’t bliss. Sometimes, it just hurts.

Sowon feels herself crumbling. She wonders, for a split second, if Korea is the right place to be.

(Will there ever be a ‘right place’?)

“Merde!” she exclaims, “C’est des conneries! Va te faire foutre!”

There’s a downpour in Seoul for the next hour.

Lesson Three: Tout Va Bien (Pas Vraiment).

They tell her she’s such an American Girl, like it’s supposed to hurt. You Americans are so spoiled. And if it hadn’t been for the pojangmacha over her head, she’d have mistaken this situation for a night out in France. (The French people badmouth Americans, too.)

It’s all so amusing to her, though, how different people around the world think of Americans in the same light–as if there’d been an international consensus that the majority are utter babies.

Sowon can’t deny that her six years in New York has made her pompously entitled, especially in situations where things don’t go her way. And, maybe–as her friends had put it–she was being a little too sensitive that day.

“What do you suggest I do then, oppa?” Sowon is genuinely curious.

“You’re how many years old? 23?”

She nods.

Her female friend chimes in, albeit tipsily, “I think you need to grow up.”

Lesson Four: Hélas Pour Moi.

August and September disappear as quickly as they arrive. October settles in quietly.

Lately, everything feels humdrum blue–empty and eerily still, like the calm before a storm. Days of isolation and desperation turn to hours, weeks, months, driving nothing but schisms and fissures into her chest, hollow where her heart is. It’s all so draining, and it doesn’t help that Seoul feels lonelier than usual.

Maybe she’s homesick again.

“Or unemployed?”

The cheeky remark earns a playful smack from Sowon.

“No, oppa. It’s something about the cold,” she says, honest, “feels… nostalgic.”

He half-chuckles, stares off into the distance like something’s there. “What are you homesick for anyway? France?”

Sowon doesn’t say anything, because she also doesn’t know. Not really. Not yet.

—

“When are you leaving?”

“What, all of a sudden you care now?”

“Maybe I can give you some advice.”

“Soon, like in-a-few-weeks-soon.”

“Oh.”

—

Something is missing.

Sowon realizes this on the morning of oppa’s departure, when her apartment is colored blue and indigo. Something is always missing, and she can’t figure out what it is.

Lesson Five: Faut Pas Rêver.

November rushes in with new beginnings and miracles.

And a letter from Bern.

Grüezi, it reads, I know you probably hate me more than anything right now—in fact, I’d be lucky to have you even read this. But Sowon, listen to me. My moving had nothing to do with you. I couldn’t tell you this in person because I thought you needed some time alone, and—

Sowon skims through the first half of the letter, drops her gaze toward the very last sentence.

I learned a little French for you. “Faut pas rêver.” I hope you never give up your dreams of being a picture editor.

Yours truly.

She stills momentarily–and then trashes the letter altogether.

[complicatedcactus]

Follow You: Chapter 2

Mullegil

As soon as I reached the farthest place I thought from the studio, I stopped and catch my breath. Gaaaahd! This isn't happening! I might get asthma or heart attack because of this. Of all people, why HARRYYYY!?!?! I'm still gasping for air.

"Girl thing... Girl thing..." holy sh*t is it today? Is today my first day? My bunny calendar didn't notify me! I should've known! Argh! I ran again to my flat to change.

All afternoon, although Im working with all the accounts I'm handling, my mind's actually out in the outer space. Or atleast thinking how to get to Mars and stay there for good. I'm literally doomed. What if someone caught it on phone, then upload it then his fans will eventually assemble to knock me down. Im leaving but i don't want that kind of send-off.

"OTTOKE?" What to do?

I left the office the moment the clock striked 5pm. I need a place to relax. Gosh! Im so nervous right now. I already sent a message to Bob telling him to relay my apologies to Harry. That I don't have any confidence left to face him. That could he please tell his fans, if ever, to never kill me.

HARRY KIM

김 하리

October 11, 19** 31 y/o

Band: ***

Kor-Canadian Singer, composer, dancer and rapper, actor.

Born in Canada

Agency: ***

Sold 10million copies of his self-titled album with his chart topping hit "You".

Damn! I just slapped an IDOL! An IDOL who has die hard fans who's willing to offer themselves for their idol.

After changing clothes, i left my flat to go to the nearest internet cafe and search for any news connected with the event earlier. Praise God! I found nothing. Or not yet? "Aish". Nothing will be out. Nothing will be posted. Nothing. Okay. Believe that, Jin.

I went to my gym afterwards, you know, to release the stress. I just need to release this. Reminder, Jin you have 2 days to escape whatever happened today. 2 days starting tomorrow. I hope the trip for tomorrow would make me forget about everything.

***

I woke up the next day, Saturday, and see first thing in the morning that gray jacket hanging on the wall. Aish!!! I wish it was all just a dream. But no. I've got proof it really happened. Jin, your life must go on. Having a bad day yesterday doesn't mean it would be the same as today. "AJA!" then I get ready for my Tour Guide duties.

Our travel agency usually offers 2 days 1 night trip, to any place in SoKor and I am currently assigned on areas near Seoul. There were also times that I was assigned somewhere south like Jeju Province, Busan, Mokpo etc. Traveling while earning is my thing.

"Noona!/Unnie!" Hyuna and Jerald called simultaneously as i walked towards the office. "Bogoshipo!" oh! I missed you too. And they gave me their hugs.

These two are my travel buddies - both are university students. We went to the same university. Hyuna taking up Tourism and Jerald taking up Biology, and I just finished my Masters Degree on Business Admin. How we end up together? We just shared a table one afternoon in the cafeteria then we talked, only to find out we have all the same hobby which is traveling. Then we had several trips on weekends, started a youtube channel for our travel Vlogs then one day we received an invite from BackpackersKorea, the agency we are currently working. You'll get the whole thing.

"How many backpackers are coming with us today?" i asked. "5 kids, 11 Teenagers, 5 adults... 21 all in all" Hyuna answered. She's actually assigned with the preparations before every trip- doing research, reservations and other stuff.

We're bound to leave at 8:30am and we are almost complete just waiting for one family. As i climbed up the bus to orient our tourists, i noticed a strange looking guy at the far backseat of the bus.

"Can you see that guy with a black hoddie?" Whispering to Jerald.

"Ne Noona. I guess he's...wait... Kim Joonyung. He had his reservation 2 months ago."

"eh? Jinjja?" i said in disbelief. Normally our backpackers have their reservations a month or less since we finalize our trip a month before the schedule. Oh well...

As soon as we were completed, we finally left Seoul to see the beauty of Chuncheon. The City of Romance and Youth. During the ride, we do introductions with each other. Our trip has this retreat vibe. Everyone participated, except for one. That black hoodie guy. He's alone and he wears his shades which makes it difficult to know if he is even awake.

As we continue the trip, we conduct brief introductions to the places we are bound to see, we also gave them trivias about the on-the-road tourists' sites, and the likes. I do the talking, Jerald do the filming (for the Vlog) and Hyuna assists me.

Since it's almost lunchtime when we arrived at Chuncheon, our first stop. Chucheon Myeongdong Dakkgalbi Street. This place, of course, is famous for its palate satisfying Dakkgalbi. This place is almost the same as the Myeongdong we have in Seoul. A great place to visit. Everyone's hopped out the bus as soon as we got there to grab our lunch. Black Hoodie guy went out too but didn't join the group. He's... Oh nevermind. We gave them enough time to have their lunch and to explore the place and then off we go to our next destination - Mullegil.  The best place to experience canoeing!

After few reminders, backpackers began to leave the tour bus to see and experience canoe. While standing-by, the three of us take this opportunity to do our thing. Photo opportunity and Vlogging!

"Kaja! I brought my OOTD!" OOTD is a must. So we find a good place to take photos.

"noona, go there. Do the titanic pose at the side of the lake!" He was born a photographer.

"Arraseo! After my turn, we'll take yours and Hyuna too!" and so i did what he instructed.

I am now ready to take a pose, or I just thought... I suddenly stepped on a loose rock just on the edge of the lake and I lost my balance. Holy shit!  I tried to pull myself back but no chance. Goodbye, OOTD.

Things went just fast that when I opened my eyes, I am not in the water nor have any trace of water on me. All I know is something around me just feels so familiar. Dejavu. I can't move for sometime. I saw this black long sleeves around my waist. Slowly I turned my head to whoever this is that saved me from soaking. Slowly... He looks familiar. I already saw him somewhere...

"Unnie!!! Emergency!" Hyuna called.

My attention shifted from my savior to Hyuna. He loosened his arms from me. I bowed, thanked him and ran to Hyuna.

"what is it?"

"Na Gil (one of our backpacker) got hurt. I think she sprained her foot."

"Go get the first aid kit. Jerald, get some ice." I demanded.

As I look at Na Gil's sprained ankle, I caught black hoodie guy looking at us. He's standing at that spot where I almost fell. He was the one who saved me.