30 minute love affair, all in the blink of an eye
There you were standing there, I heard an angel cry
Runaway lover, I soon discovered
It was best when we left it, I'll never forget it
Our 30 minute love affair~
There was nothing that could cure you from the weight of such a heavy, daunting week like a visit to the local bar, especially on this particular Thursday night. Local indie singers performed on the small yet brightly lit stage, a stack of CDs by their feet they were selling for a mere five bucks (in this economy?!), groups of women made their way inside and ordered a string of cocktails without hesitation to take full advantage of the bar’s Ladies Night. The establishment served as one of the few reminders of how vibrant and meaningful life could be, that there was so much more to it than the cycle of eat, sleep, work, and repeat.
As you pushed past the wooden red door, you were greeted by the familiar, lingering smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and sweat. Music was playing through the speakers at a comfortable volume, one waiter was bringing a tray of cocktails for a bachelorette party, while another had a tray of sweet potato fries, onion rings, and loaded nachos for a table of men, who were still in their office clothes, albeit with their shirts slightly unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up their arms.
Tonight, you just wanted to sit by the bar, order a cocktail or two, and maybe strike up a conversation with your favourite bartender but then, someone had caught your eye.
The man was alone at the corner of the bar, nursing what seemed to be a rum and coke in his hands. He stood almost broodingly, with his rose-coloured sunglasses under the dim lights, bleached silver hair, and black leather jacket over a white T-shirt. Even from afar, you could tell he was not a local; he had seamlessly achieved the perfect balance of blending in and standing out. There was something about him that was so magnetic, something that you could not put a finger on.
You snapped yourself out of it and sat down, grabbing the attention of the bartender. You were not the kind of person to walk up to strangers, especially in an alcohol-fuelled environment like the bar. No, you knew better than to cause trouble.
Once you ordered your first drink of the night, you sensed a gaze falling in your direction. It was a gaze of acknowledgement… or maybe even curiosity? It was too distant for you to tell, but as soon as your order was placed on a coaster in front of you, Mr. Mystery Man walked towards the line of stools at the bar, where you sat.
“Sorry to be a bother,” he said, his voice infused with an accent you could not place. “But, can I take a seat here?”
“Hm?” you turned your head, looked up, and there he was standing before you. “Oh, of course you can.”
He sat on the stool beside you, cleared his throat, and… there it was: four seconds of silence, which was enough to make things feel awkward.
“I’m BamBam, by the way,” he spoke up.
He smiled at you, an honest and earnest smile that you have not seen in a while. The effect he had on you was almost instant; without saying another word, you felt more at ease, as if he were not a stranger, but someone special. Was it his presence? Or were you just feeling somewhat lonely lately? Maybe it was a mixture of both? No matter what it was, that initial air of awkwardness was beginning to subside.
You introduced yourself, BamBam said your name was cute, and oh shit… you were blushing and could only hope that he did not notice. “You’re not from here, are you?”
“How can you tell?” BamBam retorted, letting out a little laugh. “Is it my hair?”
“No, it’s that," you said, looking around the bar. “Everyone here is dressed the same, you know? Well, except for that table over there… the rest of us came here still in our work clothes. Maybe you did too, if you were like… some sort of model?”
“Kinda,” he said before taking another sip from his drink. “Not the biggest fan of talking about my job, especially with people like you.”
You raised a curious eyebrow, and saw the immediate panic in his eyes. “I– I didn’t mean it like that.”
“No, I get it,” you reassured him, even though his hesitancy was making you more intrigued. “I don’t like talking to strangers about my job either.”
Therefore, you did not pry any further. The both of you ended up talking about everything under the Sun, laughing your heads off and bonding over the silliest things. All the while BamBam ordered a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon for you to share, and even put your drink on his tab, much to your hesitation. There was something about him that made you feel safe, and you wanted more.
Time flew by, and like clockwork, patrons began to make their way out of the bar. The frat boys disguised as white-collar workers left first, then the bachelorette party stumbled their way out the door, and the singer walked out as well, his guitar case in one hand and a bag of unsold CDs in the other.
BamBam was the first to notice that it was just you, him, and the employees left in the bar. “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“It’s just us now,” he said before taking one final sip of the wine you managed to finish together and calling the bartender over so he could pay the bill. “Should we get going?”
“Where are we gonna go?”
“I was hoping you would tell me,” he chuckled as he signed the bill and got his credit card back. “I’m not from here, remember?”
As if it were instinct, BamBam took your hand in his when you stood up to leave, the gentle grip he had on your hand was unwavering as you walked out together, clueless on where to go next. All the shops had closed, and your city was not known for having the best nightlife on a Thursday night. You and BamBam started walking down the streets that were lit from the lamp posts above your heads, pausing once in a while for you to tell him a bit more about the little things the city had to offer.
You strolled around for God knew how long; your feet were beginning to ache, nose and cheeks turning red from the cold. Looking at the time, your eyes widened, the bus that was on its way to your neighbourhood was making its last stop in the city in a few minutes, and you were doubtful that you could make it there on time.
“Hey, um,” you said, looking up at BamBam. “I need to make a run for the bus, like ASAP, I’m sorry, I–”
“Taking the bus? At this time?”
“Well, yeah,” you said, eyes darting to the bus stop ahead and back to BamBam. “I don’t have much of a choice.”
“With me, you do,” he declared, taking out his phone. “You’re going home by Uber. It’s too dangerous to go home by bus like this.”
“Wait, wait,” you said, covering his screen with your hand. “You really don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
As much as you were grateful for his offer, you huffed, your hand still on his phone. “Alright, alright, you can call me a cab, but,”
“But?”
“But, not now,” you said, sitting down on the closest bench, finally giving your feet the rest they needed. “The night’s not over yet.”
He sat down beside you, just like how he did in the bar, except there was no space between you and no one else was around; it was just the two of you and the night’s cold breeze.
“Something on your mind?” BamBam asked, as he put his arm around your shoulder.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s never nothing,” he said, pulling you closer to him. Damn, was he good at comebacks. “So, tell me now or forever hold your peace.”
You sighed, you were not the type to be this vulnerable around people you just met, but BamBam somehow had allowed you to let your guard down in front of him. “I really don’t want this night to end, BamBam.”
He looked down at you. “I really don’t want it to end either. You’re a whole lotta fun to be around.”
“I have this really weird feeling that we won’t be seeing each other again after tonight,” you confessed, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”
“What’s saying tonight’s goodbye is our last?”
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Time… circumstance? I can’t describe it. What do you think?”
“I like to think we’d meet each other again,” he said, holding you even tighter. “You see me, I see you, and we continue where we left off. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
For a moment, there was silence, but not the awkward silence at the bar. The silence was comforting and the moment felt frozen in time. You could have stayed there for an hour before BamBam looked at you again. “Whether or not we see each other tomorrow, next month, next year, or possibly never,” he started, taking your hand in his. “I’d like to end the night with this.”
BamBam did not give you time to answer as he closed the little space left between you with his lips. Everything inside you went still, no thoughts, no worries about the uncertainties the future would bring. You melted further into the kiss, eyes closed as BamBam enveloped his arms around you.
You were the first to pull away, smiling as you rested your foreheads against each other. “BamBam?”
“Yes?”
“I think I’m ready to go home now.”
He looked at you and understood what you meant instantly, taking out his phone, asking for your address and ordering an Uber, which arrived ten minutes later, and that meant ten extra minutes to spend with BamBam. He gave you one last kiss on the lips before opening the passenger door for you and sending you off. Once the car had disappeared from his sight, he called another Uber to bring him back to his hotel.
You spent the 25 minutes of your trip back home thinking, “Why?”
What you had with BamBam was just one fleeting moment, not meant to be forever. The story of you and him had come to an end the moment he closed the passenger door. You could accept that, but deep down, you knew there had to be a reason why.
Around a week later, when you saw an advertisement promoting an album called Winter Heptagon by a band named GOT7 plastered on the front page of YouTube, your question had been answered.
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Sunflowers and your face fascinate me,
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But you're fast, you're the winner,
Long distance winner~
You know the saying, “a jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one?” Many of those around you have said that it perfectly described Jinyoung; with his decorated resume of different accolades and achievements, he was a force to be reckoned with. He was a successful singer, an emerging actor with awards already under his belt, and when he did model… his beauty never ceased to sweep you off your feet.
Rather, it was as if he was a master of all trades. When Jinyoung was handed a project, he gave it his all and the results proved it. He was the epitome of vigour, fueled with an unwillingness to settle for anything less than the best. There were definitely times where his perfectionism became a hindrance, especially to your relationship. His foot was consistently on the gas pedal, and you could not keep up with him no matter how hard you tried.
“How long have you been sitting there?” Jinyoung’s voice broke the silence in the apartment, startling you. “All morning?”
“Maybe,” you simply stated, eyes still glued to the streets below. “I think I’m slowly losing track of time.”
With a towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller one on his head, Jinyoung lay down on the plush queen-sized bed you shared and let out a deep breath, letting his eyes close for a moment. Noticing the soft creak of the bed behind you, you turned around and crawled onto the empty space beside him, resting a cheek on his chest as you took in his steady heartbeat. Perfect.
“It’s pouring out there,” you said, turning your head to face him. “Are you sure you’ll make it to the studio on time?”
“Jackson texted me, said he’s gonna pick me up,” he told you as his fingers began to play with the ends of your hair. “Which is why I should probably continue getting ready.”
“You’re really gonna let him be behind the wheel? In that weather?”
Jinyoung looked at the window behind you, shrugging as lightning struck from afar. “He’s old enough not to speed in the rain and if he does speed, I’ll just smack him behind the head.”
You looked up at the clock that was at the corner of your eye. “Well, look at the time,” you said, patting him on the chest and standing up. “Go get changed, tiger.”
Chuckling and shaking his head, he stood up and walked to your shared closet, where Jinyoung’s side was on the left and yours on the right. You leaned back against the wall, enjoying the sight of his bare back, muscles firm and toned from all the hours spent in the gym and years as a performer
“What time do you get out today?” Jinyoung asked as he shimmied into a pair of faded blue jeans and zipped up its fly.
“Six, as always… but I got half-day off, so I won’t head in until lunchtime,” you said. “I’ll never get tired of this.”
“Get tired of what?” he asked as he eyed his reflection in the mirror, slipping on a black denim jacket over a white T-shirt.
You stood up from the mattress and settled behind Jinyoung, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder. “Mornings with you,” you said as you looked at him in the mirror. “One of these days you’re gonna be done with the album and the comeback and go on tour to spend your days in sold-out arenas and swanky hotels without me. I need to savour this.”
“Trust me, honey, you’re going to be there with me,” he affirmed, placing a hand over yours on his torso. “I’m bringing you all around the world, I promise.”
“You don’t need to promise me anything,” you reassured him. “As long as you’re doing what you love, I’m happy.”
Just as you were about to give Jinyoung a kiss on the cheek, his phone rang and vibrated in the pocket of his jacket. Startled, he turned out of your grasp and pulled out his phone, answering the awaited call. “It’s Jackson,” he muttered and put a soft hand on your lower back as he took the call.
“Jackson?… You’re downstairs, already?… No, I thought you said you’d be here at 9.30… Yes, I’m ready… I’m not late, you’re just early!… Fine, fine, I’ll be down in a minute… See you.”
Sighing, Jinyoung hung up and placed his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry about that… and you were saying?”
“Babe, he’s already here,” you said, walking him to the door, past the dining room and the kitchen. “Have him wait there any longer and the security guards will shoo him away.”
“Wait,” he exclaimed rather suddenly.
“What?”
“How do I look?”
You wanted to roll your eyes and smack him on the shoulder, but you resisted. “Handsome as always,” you answered, straightening his shirt with your hands and tucking a stray strand of his hair back. “Now go get them, tiger.”
Opening the door, he finally gave you a proper kiss on the lips. It was short, sweet and you could feel the warmth of his skin. “Stay safe out there. Love you.”
“Love you more,” he said, walking out as he waved goodbye, heading down the corridor towards the elevator.
Just as you saw his figure disappear from sight, you shut the door behind you, facing the rest of your day alone before you had to get ready for work. Walking over to the kitchen, you sighed, mentally preparing yourself for the mountain of dirty dishes from last night’s three-course dinner, only to be met with an empty sink and a drying rack full of plates, cups, and pans. Of course, Jinyoung took care of the dishes late last night. He always did.
Time alone at home was not new, but weekday mornings without any responsibilities were a once-in-a-while treat. You could fit in a last-minute mani-pedi appointment, maybe even go on a grocery run or head to the gym.
You ended up crashing back down on your bed, back flat on the mattress as your legs rested off the edge. You closed your eyes; the silence was nice, comforting and meditative. The sounds of rain began to fade out as the sunlight poured through the windows, brightening up the space around you. Your mind began to wander as you opened your eyes, only to be met with the spinning ceiling fan.
“Fuck,” you muttered as you rolled onto your side. You had mulled over it once, all while being alone when Jinyoung was working with the band on their music. Going on tour with him and following GOT7 around the world, in theory, was a dream but in reality, it was anything but ideal for you. Truthfully, you wanted a sense of normalcy in your life, which was one of the reasons why you had not left your job for something else that would fit Jinyoung’s lifestyle.
You yearned for stability and consistency, and to tell Jinyoung to slow down, especially when he could afford to.
As one would expect, it had come across your mind before, about finally giving up and leaving Jinyoung for good but it was a big decision to make… and you knew it. Huddling up in a pile of pillows and a blanket, you grabbed the remote and turned on the television before aimlessly scrolling through different shows to watch. You paused on a preview of a drama that he was in, sighed, and continued on scrolling.
While keeping up with Jinyoung had been the hardest part of being with him, you had always admired how the arts were just so effortless and second nature to him. He made it seem so easy. The way his voice got everyone wrapped around his finger, how he got the audience to sit on their seats with his acting. He was powerful on whatever stage he was on.
Nonetheless, power was not enough. There were discrepancies that needed to be addressed and you needed to let him know.
–
Jinyoung walked into the apartment, placing his jacket on the coat hanger and keys in the cupboard by the door. He made his way to your bed, finding you lying in a fetal position, half-dressed in your work clothes.
Blinking, he stopped and stared for a moment – half-day or not, work must have tired you out that day, he thought. He quietly put the bag of fried chicken and beer he had bought on the way home down on the vanity, toeing out of his socks and taking off his T-shirt before tossing it somewhere in the corner behind him. Walking slowly, he approached the bed with caution and as softly as he could, lay down beside you. You did not move as he carefully lifted your arm and draped it over him, scooting closer to your sleeping frame.
Staring down at your face, Jinyoung drank you in. How serene and relaxed you looked in sleep, even when life had been so hard on you, especially when he was the brunt of the issue. Even though you never told him, he had a gut feeling that there was something wrong. His fingers itched to touch your face, to feel the warmth and softness of your skin, but he remained still. Your lips were slightly pursed and some strands of hair were stuck on your cheek as soft puffs of air escaped with every breath you let out.
A small grunt left his mouth as you suddenly pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I missed you,” you mumbled against his skin. “Work okay?”
He nodded, flush against you now, your body straightened out beside him and he couldn’t help but slide a hand underneath your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin against his palm. You shivered slightly at his touch but mimicked him, snaking a hand and resting it just above the waistline of his jeans.
“I’m sorry I got home so late,” he said, capturing your lips in a kiss. “Fucking last minute interview at the radio station.”
“I understand. You’re home now and that’s all that matters.”
You curled up beside him, resting your head on his shoulder as he started running his fingers through your hair. You sighed in contentment and he let out a soft laugh.
“Is there a problem here?”
“You’re gorgeous.”
“No problem, then.” He leaned his lips closer and placed a kiss on your forehead before pulling you more securely against him. “Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think I’ve brought this up before, but, you need to catch a breath and take a break from work… I need you around here. When was the last time we went on our morning walk together? Whatever happened to that ritual, huh?”
“Y/N, I–”
“You got too busy. When it’s not GOT7, it’s your acting, and if it’s not that, it’s some sort of ambassadorship or sponsorship thing. You’re so go, go, go when the pause button has been in front of you this whole time. We’re more than well-off… a break won’t hurt you.”
His warm hands caressed your upper arms and he closed his eyes to avoid your searching gaze. You left him speechless because deep down, he knew you were right. “I… I’m sorry. Maybe I didn’t stop to realise just how much I was doing.”
“I love you and I love that you’re doing what you love but promise me one thing,” you said, sticking a pinky finger out.
“What?”
“No more projects after this comeback, at least not for some time… so we can spend some proper time together.”
Jinyoung smirked, and locked his pinky finger with yours.
When I see you again as I always do,
It appears to me that destiny rules,
And the spirits are ruthless with the paths they choose.
It's not being together, it's just following the rules.
No one's a fool~
With Yugyeom, everything felt like it was written by destiny.
It was as if the two of you came from different worlds; his life was moving ever so rapidly in a world that was defined by all that came with money and fame. Your life was what many were expected to lead: working the 9-to-5 job that offered PTOs and yearly bonuses, keeping a tightly-knit group of friends whose hangouts only make it out of the group chat once in a blue moon. Not once did you ever think you would have crossed paths with someone like Yugyeom.
Others say that it was Yugyeom having the balls to walk up to you and buy you a drink at the bar (after some liquid courage and words of encouragement from BamBam, of course) that brought the two of you together. However, you like to think that if it was not for the bad day you were having at work, the thunderous rage of rain that bestowed upon the city that prevented you from heading straight home, and you choosing the random, yet most convenient bar to go to for a drink, you and Yugyeom would not have met.
It was as if everything was carefully tailored for the both of you, one stitch at a time.
In the beginning, you and Yugyeom managed to make things work with the power of compromise and FaceTime. Even though the moments you shared together physically were short-lived and far apart, they just made spending time together all the more special and intimate. The routine you had going on and the promises you kept to each other on keeping in touch no matter how busy either of you got kept the flame of your relationship illuminated and luminescent.
Three years on, the flame that was once burning bright began to go out. You continued climbing the corporate ladder, while Yugyeom was heading towards making a comeback with GOT7 and releasing an album of his own. The distance between you kept growing, and you tried everything in your power to bring each other closer again. Throwing fuel into the flame, you attempted couples counseling and took time off from work to rebuild the relationship from the scraps that were left of what it used to be.
Nothing seemed to work, and you were the first to realise that the story written by destiny for you and Yugyeom began to diverge into two different paths, slowly and painstakingly coming to an end.
There was no fighting, no push and shove. You sat him down on the couch, told him that you needed to have a serious talk, which lasted until midnight.
“I think we’ve reached the end of the road.”
Yugyeom understood, though deep down in his heart, he wanted to continue trying.
You walked him to the door of your apartment, taking in his features for what could be the very last time you see him. “I hope you know that I love you. My arms will always be open, and I hope you’ll come by when it’s the right time… for the both of us,” he said before giving you one final kiss on cheek and walking out the door.
That was the last time you saw him, but the advertisements plastered on billboards across the world, airplay on radio and streaming platforms and promotional tours serve as a reminder that Yugyeom still exists, that he is still one call and message away. Things just need to fall in the right place again, just like it did before.
If destiny could bring you together the first time around, what is stopping it from doing so again?
