JACKASS

uom: be real @umhaejin, it’s (y)ours @umsoyi, fruit fly @umdahye, word? (hoonhae)

iou: some plot with @aikoum​

sangyeop

uom: cold comfort (gyul) / dead, beat, summer (hye) / starter @pswum

iou: mouse trap (noeul), precipice (haeil)

elijah

uom: a starter @umhaneul (ty in advance), WYD (roo), discourse @abeum, sick! (hwan), in convenience (sol), texts (haeil), more texts @dodoum, hymn for the weekend @umroeun​, lightweight @umgoeun​

iou: my thanks for writing w me <3

“tch.”

her lip curls. nothing unpleasant, teetering playful in the too nostalgic meet of old acquaintances. some things don’t change. certain dynamics in particular don’t change. even though between them now no longer sits a table and several text books. “great, i’ll be expecting it tonight then.” watches idly while he moves, smile in place. people don’t change. even if one’s build is different, eyes are darker, carries with them a weight unseen in their youth. the base, the foundations of their being, it’s still the same isn’t it? 

yeah. that’s what she likes to think. that she’s still the same.

“yup.” attention halved between her coffee and the man sitting across from her. gyul moves absently, poised, fingers pinching a small metal spoon she stirs idly by. “i work over in gangnam, nothing too interesting though—just 9 to 5.” there’s a slight pause, smallest shift in demeanor. nothing big. simply a tighter smile when she pulls the spoon out, taps it against the rim of the cup. “yeah, three years ago.” a raised brow. “i thought i sent your family an invitation to the wedding though?”

but it’s—nothing important to dwell on. gyul makes it clear with the laugh that flitters through, lifting the cup to her lips for a small sip. “what about you, then? and your mom?”

“i work in gangnam,” he mimics, head doing a little shake. the mirror in posture and poise follow not too much later, all poofing when she appears uncomfortable. it’s at the question at hand, he assumes. nothing else is different in their dynamic save for one too many questions and legal drinking, moderation almost never in play.

guess it’s his fucking turn when she hits him back with something equally apprehensive. sangyeop does nothing of her sort, however—he’s objectively worse, making a low noise in the back of his throat as he clenches his fist just above the tablecloth. never the subtle type in expressing his feelings, he gulps dryness down, taking a moment to process multiple parts of the question: did she ask to be courteous? is that her thing anyway? who is she to know? and where, oh where does he start?

maybe that says enough. if his shoulders were raised and tight just now, they aren’t anymore. not that this was a bad idea or anything, but. this wasn’t one of their best. he’s consumed before he can consume—usually a reason to call quits. there always has to be a balance in order to have an ample time. some kind of time and place, huh. it’s not you, but it isn’t him either.

What does she know about the guy other than the fact that she’s seen him enough times on the street to remember?

…Yeah, that’s about it.

“You don’t remember me, huh.” Figures.  If they’ve ever talked it’d probably have been to resolve a coffee order mix-up.  The details are hazy, but he’s definitely one of the seniors people have pointed out in conversation- Park, right?  Something like that.  Popsicle a little melty at this point, she adjusts her hold on it to maintain minimal messiness. It drips on the sidewalk instead. Not that anyone’s going to call her out on it.  There are other things that she’s bound to get yelled at for by a very special someone if she doesn’t get back to work soon.  

Hye thinks.

“I’m Hyebin.  Jung Hyebin.  Class of 2015.  D’you wanna grab something to eat later today?  I need a viable excuse to get me out of drinking with my coworkers.  They’re so damn lightweight I can never enjoy my meal.” It’s not exactly a question- she’s already holding her phone out to him, expectant.

Screw her for making him think it was safe to say no. A simple shake of his head would have shut anyone else up and make them go on their merry way, but nah. Maybe it’s coming back to him, Jung Hyebin being an actual person he’s known in his life. Or maybe she’s just full of life, constantly, larger than he can only currently wish he’d be. What a way to get by every day, huh.

Sangyeop takes notes.

there’s a beat after the receiver is picked up where his mind flits around, hummingbird-quick and packs the same punch as a panic attack as he searches for the right one-liner to break the ice but goddamn if it isn’t like sangyeop and his caliber to beat him to the chase.

“hm, no kidding. add easy to that.” haeil matches him in the sound and feeling, right down to the turn from stunned to sentimental. i’ve missed it too.” has been, but nostalgia has always been a terribly good medium for distortion. 

a confession begins to form then, salt on the tip of the tongue, like the disbelief towards how things turned out where he stands is warranted (it is) and is enough to consume it as a complete and utter lie (it isn’t). testing the waters comes first and foremost. “better.” vague enough, to let it merge into finer details for another time’s sake. “you?” there’s no rationale for this to tumble out of his mouth of all questions, but it falls with the necessary hesitation. “is this a bad time?” 

“negative.” he finishes ring-around-the-rosies like this. what is that classic nursery rhyme if not morbid? still sick, still is what it is: speculation, folklore. lore about your folk, which is him and his, which is not something sangyeop would’ve ever imagined to witness having to emerge through the surface anytime soon. he goes around in circles by himself in his mind, bummed. who starts? when, where. it’s not too hard to figure out how. after all, what had just been said?

02:00: Never seems to sleep. A bit self-destructive. Dark circles under their eyes. Longing looks. Dreaming of a better place. Always tired. Dark sense of humour.

04:00: Works too hard. Litres and litres of coffee. Lives off of instant meals. Talks too fast. Always in a hurry. Has big dreams. A bit clumsy at times.

06:00: Early bird. Bright smiles. Always singing under their breath. Sunrises. Making breakfast in bed for a loved one. Easily irritable. Wants to be friends with everyone.

08:00: Hard working. Knows how to balance out their life. Plans their day down to the last minute. Always in control. Not afraid to put people in their place.

10:00: Lazy mornings in bed. Wants to travel the world. Always manages to get the job done at the last minute. Handpicked flowers. Falls in love easily. Soft voice.

12:00: Sunny days. Bright smiles. Cares a lot about everyone. Wants to change people’s lives. Always trying something new. Tries their best to cheer up a sad friend.

14:00: Able to take a nap anywhere. Forgetful. Talks a lot or not at all. Hesitant touches. Doesn’t easily connect with people. Could probably change the world if they actually tried.

16:00: Snaps easily. Will fight you. Not afraid to stand up for themselves. Believes the world can be a better place. Wants to be the change the world needs.

18:00: Long work days. Always giving their best. Home cooked meals. Sunset picnics.  Always manages to make time for the ones they love.

20:00: Only puts effort into things they enjoy. A bit of a pushover. Always trying to be better than they are. Thinks too little of themselves. Always there for everyone.

22:00: Always up for a party. Loud laughs. Doesn’t stay around for very long. Not quite sure what they’re doing with their life. Very passionate about everything they do.

seeing old acquaintances feels much so like seeing her younger self again. the telltale trickle of ah, i was like this… i felt like this… i remember this... nostalgia that washes over her. shallow waves in a sea of memories long forgotten. not for him, nor anyone else, but a quiet yearning, reminiscent of herself, then—who she used to be, then. 

but often times it’s just her, not surprising nor shocking, teeming with unbridled emotion seldom reciprocated. that’s life. gyul doesn’t expect anything more or less from the likes of sangyeop. “ah,” she can certainly take a hint, fingers running over the rim of the bag absently, slipping around the handle, goodbye at the ready. well, not so fast.

“sure.” agrees all too easily with little much to do on a weekend beyond this. gyul busies herself with what she does best, picking through trinkets and various sorts. she lingers at a vanity when he approaches, fingers tapping against polished wood idly. her eyes lift, meeting his with a small amiable smile.“do you guys deliver?” 

“no.”

anything to wipe that smile off her face. sangyeop only does it for the fleeting reaction, however, quick to gesture to an employee currently idle at the opposite side of the shop. “same day and after we’re closed only.” it’s a very-gyul choice, this particular set. gyul from the end of early 00s, gyul now. it’s all the same but he has yet to figure why. removing the price tag from the knob of the center drawer, he tucks it into his front pocket, making a mental note to charge her for it only after it’s gotten to her place safely. some trust, huh? if you’re black-and-white about things, you might as well go all out. unless inconsistency’s your thing.

@omsangyeop

2016, 11:57 p.m.  caught in the middle. 

he’s unsuspecting, but when has he ever been anything but? it’s just him, the three minutes between now and tomorrow, and a phone number that haeil hasn’t so much as glanced at in a good four years. no hard feelings—or he hopes. the chances are slimmer than the thread that he hangs by. curiosity kills all, cats and a proper grasp at conversation. he attempts it all the same. 

thumbing in the digits, he brings the phone to his ear. waits like there’s any reason to wait at all, expecting the presence of none and no one on the other end of the line.

a metronome at the tempo of 100 beats per minute plays eight. he takes a breath on the ninth, the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth being “we’re ridiculous, still.” it fits weirdly. fits where it works anyhow, just a little twisted. but god forbid it’s cruel. jump to that conclusion right here and this conversation will have been in vain, that much a wild guess.

@omsangyeop

The best thing about university were the breaks.  Granted, hers weren’t as glamorous as the rest of her classmates’– instead of flying off to some hot vacation spot, she’d spent more time as a lowly intern, scurrying around like a lab rat and spending what free days she could doing as little as possible.  On rare days off she’d treat herself to a popsicle and wander aimlessly through the city, tongue tingling from the overbearing sweetness. 

Being alone meant she could people-watch as she pleased.  By the third week, she’d recognize a few faces.  The girl with bright pink hair who always seemed to be pissed at some unfortunate recipient on the other end of her calls, the old woman patiently steering her husband away from the toy store, the gangly teen puttering to and from his part-time job at the pizza store on his battered red motorcycle.  Each face had a made-up story that developed as the days progressed (Pink Hair had a boyfriend who probably cheated on her…with her sister! Asshole.)  

After graduation, those rare days faded into oblivion, replaced by mind-numbing hours of desk job duties.  Now she was the one ordering interns to grab her an iced americano, more out of necessity than sadistic pleasure.  There were meetings to be held and projects to be led, and the longer she stayed, the more habitual everything became.

Hyebin’s one of the best workers on her floor– she knows this because Chief Lee barely bats an eye when she asks for an extra thirty minutes of break.  He knows she’s been at it since last night, only grunting in a typical just stop talking to me fashion before swiveling his chair away to dismiss her.  She doesn’t have to be asked twice.

For old time’s sake, she’s back on that same road she’d frequented in those long summers.  How long had it been since she’d done this?  Out of habit, she glances around to look for the girl, the old woman, the part-timer, even though it’s been years since she’s last seen them.  Melona bar in hand, she’s reminiscing on the very same bench she’d sat years ago when someone unexpected catches her eye.  

“…Huh.” Taking a bite of the popsicle, she jogs over to tap his shoulder.  Grins, expectant. “Hey-  SNU Alum, right?”

SNU what now?

He doesn’t forget this is the life he’s living. That being said, racking his brain for that particular remnant in the meantime doesn’t come easy. The part about him going to college at all is fuzzy, but for why? Did he really go? And if he did, was it really there? And if it was, can he at least pretend it’s been a while and not never? Sangyeop can only assume from here that they’ll see.

Please make sure to be inclusive and send memes to others if they’ve also reblogged this! 

Reblog this if you want to take part. Have fun!

Send ✉ for an 2 am message Send ↻ for an unsent message Send ✖ for an angry/threatening message Send ❤ for a loving/affectionate message Send ❧ for a drunk message  Send ☀ for a morning message Send ☁ for a message not meant for you Send ☂ for a scared/concerned message