@wyxfox
There were people you just didn’t expect to find in Wonyang. Hoseok knew he wouldn’t see his parents, nor the bullies he left behind in Busan. Maybe part of it was wishful thinking; his belief that everyone was a stranger and he didn’t have to pay much attention. As long as he didn’t physically run into someone, he wasn’t bothering anyone. It was the way he preferred it -- being invisible. Especially when he was out on the street and constantly threatening to get overwhelmed by all the noises, the faces, the looks.
And maybe, in the back of his head, he knew he could never be certain. He hadn’t expected to bump into his childhood best friend after all these years (though he was glad he had) and despite his father still being in prison for another year or two, there was the slightest chance he could have gotten out on good behavior. Perhaps the most disturbing thing about that was that Hoseok had a tiny bit of hope to see him, even though he knew he shouldn’t. But he missed his parents -- could anyone fault him for that?
The brunet was pretending to be immersed in the music that played through his headphones, as per usual. But he could never fool himself; forever too aware of everything around him. Eyes widened once he caught a glimpse of a familiar face, though it wasn’t one of an acquaintance or family member. No, this was much scarier. His thumb pressed down on a volume button on his phone, turning down his music as his steps slowed. What was he supposed to do? Just walk over and say something? He couldn’t even do that with strangers, how was he supposed to do this?
Cold sweat clung to his skin beneath the oversized black hoodie, his fingers pushing underneath his sleeve to fumble with the wristbands around his arm. The brunet swallowed thickly, still torn between walking over and running the other way. Eventually he took a deep breath and nervously stepped closer. “A-Ah.... Excuse me?” He had to clear his throat, cringing at the hoarseness of his voice from the lack of use. A heavy accent clung to his English. “I just-- I--” God, this had been a mistake, hadn’t it? Hoseok anxiously averted his gaze, nails pressing into his hand. “You-- I-- I’m sorry, I-- Um... I just like... your muse-music...”
