kai.💫.

A girl in his creative writing class; happy, gentle, had the most amazing laugh.

Whenever you would go up and read your poems and short stories in front of the class, he was locked in. Every word you spoke about, love or the invigorating existence of self-discovery, he held close to his heart. Like the words you spoke were handcrafted and written just for him and his ears only. 

He was delusional and hopeless over a crush he had only spoken to a few times in class, and he knew it. Especially when you had announced to the class that one of the pieces you had written was about your boyfriend.

Because somehow, that didn’t affect his crush at all. If anything, it made him wonder how any other guy would be so deserving of getting to say you were theirs. Still, he tried to put some distance between you two in hopes that his little crush would go away.

That was, until he found out where you worked.

It wasn’t anything creepy; he just so happened to walk into a museum and see you working security at the concession desk. Nothing out of the ordinary… Until he found himself scrolling through the Instagram following of one of his friends, desperately hunting for your profile to find out more.

His friend Hyunjin was known to be a sort of womanizer on campus who just knew everyone. Never in his life did Han think he would find his bestie’s whore-ism as useful, but here he was. 

Typing in the first few letters of your name and seeing a picture of you pop up nearly gave him a heart attack.

Clicking on it and having your profile in full view almost sent him to the nether realm.

What made him completely spiral, though, was finding out that your family were the owners of the museum you worked at.

A picture of you and your family standing in front of a T. rex skeleton caught his eye. 

“Established in 1989, this wondrous museum of natural history features over 7,000 species. It is known to have one of the last remaining dinosaur skeletons found in the county, as many others have been donated to outside facilities for further research. The museum remains owned and operated by the descendants of the amateur naturalist…” The article Han found ended with what could only be assumed to be your great, great-grandfather’s name.

Cool. 

He thought.

So not only is she beautiful and an amazing writer… but now I find out that her family technically owns a T. rex skeleton…

Jisung had never been more in love.

He found himself going on the museum site and buying a membership immediately. 

Was he a bit insane? Maybe. But he justified his craziness by convincing himself that going to the same place over and over again wasn’t just for you, but for his love of dinosaurs. He had spent his life growing up being infatuated with dinos, so what better way to show his appreciation for them than by using his student discount and spending $75 on a membership at a place his crush’s family oh so conveniently owned?

Nothing, he thought. 

And so he went.

Every weekend Jisung was at that damn Natural History Museum.

He would go, walk around, reading the fun facts about the animals, insects, fossils… So much so he feared he may have even memorized them. He could practically recite the closing statement that aired over the museum speakers at the end of the day, word for word. Sometimes he would overhear people asking themselves questions about the exhibits and find himself answering them out of habit.

“Oh that’s so cool, I didn’t know that!”

“Wow, you're really smart, huh?”

“You know so much, you should work here!”

Statements he began to hear from people weekly, as if he were the smartest person in the world. Not just some guy who read a prompt that they too could have also read if they had just actually paid attention to the exhibit and looked at the prompts conveniently placed in front of them.

Han didn’t mind it, though; if anything, it made him feel like he had purpose. Like he wasn’t just aimlessly wandering around in hopes of catching glimpses of you while occasionally stopping to admire things he found interesting.

No, the worst part was seeing your boyfriend.

Around two in the afternoon, he would always stop by for your lunches. The two of you would sit outside on the brick wall surrounding the base of a cherry blossom tree, smiling and happy. You’d be eating something that you probably had gotten from the breakroom, while your man ate whatever food he brought for himself. Han had overheard you ask once why he never bought you food to share. His response was that because your dad owned the place, he assumed you’d have that kind of thing handled on your own. Whatever the fuck that means.

Jisung would always sit outside around the same time as you, pulling out his guitar and notepad in order to give off the notion that he was working on something. It was all an act at first, but eventually it wasn’t anymore.

The little melody that he would play as a fake attempt to look busy eventually became an actual rhythm he took inspiration from. He would build upon it a little more and more, but could never find the right lyrics. It was like the theme song of his love playing over and over again, but it was missing something.

A voice.

You.

Then one day, your boyfriend didn’t show up.

Han watched as you sat at the edge of the brick tree ring, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You looked more stressed than usual, sad even. Like the weight of the world was on your shoulders and the only distraction you had was between you and the seven-inch screen being held a foot away from your face.

He continued to play his guitar, like usual. His music becoming a sort of soundtrack to your ever-so-obvious mental breakdown. He was too shy to try and comfort you, but gave you a sympathetic look when both of you accidentally made eye contact.

It was a simple act of kindness, but your eyes meeting his was enough to make Han’s ears turn red from embarrassment. It got even worse when you walked by and spoke to him for the first time.

“You play really well, by the way.”

The words of a literal angel. They rattled his brain for what seemed like decades, but in reality was just a mere few seconds. It was in that moment that the realization of just how down bad he had become was. A simple compliment was enough to make him lose his damn mind.

Jisung sat there stunned. “Oh, uh… yeah. Thank you.”

Why couldn’t he get any other words out? Stupid.

“You’re always, like… here,” you smiled. “Do the exhibits inspire your music or something?”

“You could say that.”

Your eyes narrowed with a glimmer of something more behind them. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you slightly cocked your head to the side, trying to make sense of what he meant.

Jisung mirrored you, exuding a bit more confidence in now knowing that you were at least slightly curious about him.

The moment was broken, though, by the vibration of your phone. The instant you looked down and saw whatever message you had gotten,  the shadow of a smirk you had disappeared and the anxiety returned.

Han stared at you again for an eternity before the words finally left his mouth–

“Whatever he did, he’s an idiot.”

The statement made your head shoot faster than he anticipated. You stood there, mouth agape in a way that expressed more than actual words probably would’ve. 

“How did you–”

“The both of you are also always here,” Han replied as if it were the most obvious thing ever. “The one time he’s not here, you look pissed… He has to have done something stupid.”

“How would you know he’s the stupid one?”

“Because you look determined to fix whatever happened.”

“I don’t think someone would be so determined to fix something they didn’t break.”

“They would if they’re the only one trying to fix things.”

That last little retort was enough to expel the air out of your lungs.

Before you even had time to react properly, an older gentleman–who could only be assumed to be your father–walked outside and made a comment about you getting back to work as he rushed past. The man looked over at Jisung, giving him a weak grin before continuing on his way. You straightened your posture out of respect, nodded, and proceeded on your way through the glass doors that led back into the building.

Jisung never took himself as someone to look back at in times like these; he was too shy and awkward. The moment had passed, and he told himself that he needed to get over it.

But his own self-convinction could only last for so long.

Maybe it was the sudden adrenaline of having his crush talk to him. Or perhaps the confidence that brewed inside of him had been there all along, hiding under the interior of the lovesick puppy he’d become. But he had come to the conclusion that somehow he would win you over, even if that meant having to wait forever.

Because you were his song, his hope, his motivation. You deserved to be brought lunches, to not be left sitting alone, and to not have to try and fix situations alone.

Everyone needs their person. Jisung wanted to be that for you.

And when he turned to look at the concession desk, the rhythm of his own heart became a melody all on its own.

Because for the first time in forever, a set of eyes looked back at him.

Yours.

And for the first time in months, words popped into his head.

A girl in his creative writing class; happy, gentle, had the most amazing laugh.

Whenever you would go up and read your poems and short stories in front of the class, he was locked in. Every word you spoke about, love or the invigorating existence of self-discovery, he held close to his heart. Like the words you spoke were handcrafted and written just for him and his ears only. 

He was delusional and hopeless over a crush he had only spoken to a few times in class, and he knew it. Especially when you had announced to the class that one of the pieces you had written was about your boyfriend.

Because somehow, that didn’t affect his crush at all. If anything, it made him wonder how any other guy would be so deserving of getting to say you were theirs. Still, he tried to put some distance between you two in hopes that his little crush would go away.

That was, until he found out where you worked.

It wasn’t anything creepy; he just so happened to walk into a museum and see you working security at the concession desk. Nothing out of the ordinary… Until he found himself scrolling through the Instagram following of one of his friends, desperately hunting for your profile to find out more.

His friend Hyunjin was known to be a sort of womanizer on campus who just knew everyone. Never in his life did Han think he would find his bestie’s whore-ism as useful, but here he was. 

Typing in the first few letters of your name and seeing a picture of you pop up nearly gave him a heart attack.

Clicking on it and having your profile in full view almost sent him to the nether realm.

What made him completely spiral, though, was finding out that your family were the owners of the museum you worked at.

A picture of you and your family standing in front of a T. rex skeleton caught his eye. 

“Established in 1989, this wondrous museum of natural history features over 7,000 species. It is known to have one of the last remaining dinosaur skeletons found in the county, as many others have been donated to outside facilities for further research. The museum remains owned and operated by the descendants of the amateur naturalist…” The article Han found ended with what could only be assumed to be your great, great-grandfather’s name.

Cool. 

He thought.

So not only is she beautiful and an amazing writer… but now I find out that her family technically owns a T. rex skeleton…

Jisung had never been more in love.

He found himself going on the museum site and buying a membership immediately. 

Was he a bit insane? Maybe. But he justified his craziness by convincing himself that going to the same place over and over again wasn’t just for you, but for his love of dinosaurs. He had spent his life growing up being infatuated with dinos, so what better way to show his appreciation for them than by using his student discount and spending $75 on a membership at a place his crush’s family oh so conveniently owned?

Nothing, he thought. 

And so he went.

Every weekend Jisung was at that damn Natural History Museum.

He would go, walk around, reading the fun facts about the animals, insects, fossils… So much so he feared he may have even memorized them. He could practically recite the closing statement that aired over the museum speakers at the end of the day, word for word. Sometimes he would overhear people asking themselves questions about the exhibits and find himself answering them out of habit.

“Oh that’s so cool, I didn’t know that!”

“Wow, you're really smart, huh?”

“You know so much, you should work here!”

Statements he began to hear from people weekly, as if he were the smartest person in the world. Not just some guy who read a prompt that they too could have also read if they had just actually paid attention to the exhibit and looked at the prompts conveniently placed in front of them.

Han didn’t mind it, though; if anything, it made him feel like he had purpose. Like he wasn’t just aimlessly wandering around in hopes of catching glimpses of you while occasionally stopping to admire things he found interesting.

No, the worst part was seeing your boyfriend.

Around two in the afternoon, he would always stop by for your lunches. The two of you would sit outside on the brick wall surrounding the base of a cherry blossom tree, smiling and happy. You’d be eating something that you probably had gotten from the breakroom, while your man ate whatever food he brought for himself. Han had overheard you ask once why he never bought you food to share. His response was that because your dad owned the place, he assumed you’d have that kind of thing handled on your own. Whatever the fuck that means.

Jisung would always sit outside around the same time as you, pulling out his guitar and notepad in order to give off the notion that he was working on something. It was all an act at first, but eventually it wasn’t anymore.

The little melody that he would play as a fake attempt to look busy eventually became an actual rhythm he took inspiration from. He would build upon it a little more and more, but could never find the right lyrics. It was like the theme song of his love playing over and over again, but it was missing something.

A voice.

You.

Then one day, your boyfriend didn’t show up.

Han watched as you sat at the edge of the brick tree ring, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You looked more stressed than usual, sad even. Like the weight of the world was on your shoulders and the only distraction you had was between you and the seven-inch screen being held a foot away from your face.

He continued to play his guitar, like usual. His music becoming a sort of soundtrack to your ever-so-obvious mental breakdown. He was too shy to try and comfort you, but gave you a sympathetic look when both of you accidentally made eye contact.

It was a simple act of kindness, but your eyes meeting his was enough to make Han’s ears turn red from embarrassment. It got even worse when you walked by and spoke to him for the first time.

“You play really well, by the way.”

The words of a literal angel. They rattled his brain for what seemed like decades, but in reality was just a mere few seconds. It was in that moment that the realization of just how down bad he had become was. A simple compliment was enough to make him lose his damn mind.

Jisung sat there stunned. “Oh, uh… yeah. Thank you.”

Why couldn’t he get any other words out? Stupid.

“You’re always, like… here,” you smiled. “Do the exhibits inspire your music or something?”

“You could say that.”

Your eyes narrowed with a glimmer of something more behind them. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you slightly cocked your head to the side, trying to make sense of what he meant.

Jisung mirrored you, exuding a bit more confidence in now knowing that you were at least slightly curious about him.

The moment was broken, though, by the vibration of your phone. The instant you looked down and saw whatever message you had gotten,  the shadow of a smirk you had disappeared and the anxiety returned.

Han stared at you again for an eternity before the words finally left his mouth–

“Whatever he did, he’s an idiot.”

The statement made your head shoot faster than he anticipated. You stood there, mouth agape in a way that expressed more than actual words probably would’ve. 

“How did you–”

“The both of you are also always here,” Han replied as if it were the most obvious thing ever. “The one time he’s not here, you look pissed… He has to have done something stupid.”

“How would you know he’s the stupid one?”

“Because you look determined to fix whatever happened.”

“I don’t think someone would be so determined to fix something they didn’t break.”

“They would if they’re the only one trying to fix things.”

That last little retort was enough to expel the air out of your lungs.

Before you even had time to react properly, an older gentleman–who could only be assumed to be your father–walked outside and made a comment about you getting back to work as he rushed past. The man looked over at Jisung, giving him a weak grin before continuing on his way. You straightened your posture out of respect, nodded, and proceeded on your way through the glass doors that led back into the building.

Jisung never took himself as someone to look back at in times like these; he was too shy and awkward. The moment had passed, and he told himself that he needed to get over it.

But his own self-convinction could only last for so long.

Maybe it was the sudden adrenaline of having his crush talk to him. Or perhaps the confidence that brewed inside of him had been there all along, hiding under the interior of the lovesick puppy he’d become. But he had come to the conclusion that somehow he would win you over, even if that meant having to wait forever.

Because you were his song, his hope, his motivation. You deserved to be brought lunches, to not be left sitting alone, and to not have to try and fix situations alone.

Everyone needs their person. Jisung wanted to be that for you.

And when he turned to look at the concession desk, the rhythm of his own heart became a melody all on its own.

Because for the first time in forever, a set of eyes looked back at him.

Yours.

And for the first time in months, words popped into his head.