“Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet.” –Bob Marley

--

 “Let’s promise each other something,” he says.

I look over at him.

He is dressed in a black skate jacket and a pair of semi-soaked, ordinary blue denim jeans. His hair is wet and he almost looks like a teenager without a care in the world.

The cars are zooming by, water splashing here and there. The street almost feels alive. Almost. It feels a little dead too.

“Let’s promise to trade our lives here again. Someday. Let’s leave it to fate to decide. The weather, the day, the hour.”

A sad smile hits my lips.

He grabs my pinkie and links it with his already waiting one.

“Promise?” he says.

I nod.

“Promise.”

We make our promise sitting at the bus stop, pinkies linked, feet drawing patterns in the water, half-sheltered under the awning as the rain pours down.

--

We meet again four years and twenty-three days later.

By chance.

Fate.

The sun is half hidden by the clouds as I sit down at the bus stop.

Footsteps approach me and I hear another figure slide in beside me.

I look up. He is looking back at me.

There is a flicker of recognition in his warm brown eyes, a little shock. It disappears as quickly as it appears.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Our pinkies automatically link and we sit in the wind, watching the cars go by, drawing patterns with our feet on the dry cement.

“The weather’s a lot better than before,” he comments.

“Depends how you define better.”

He looks very different from how I remembered him. Gone is his skate jacket. It has been replaced by a suit jacket and black tie. He isn’t wearing blue denim jeans anymore. They’re a pair of freshly ironed slacks. His hair still looks a little wet though. It makes me a little more comfortable.

He looks over at me once again after a moment of silence.

“What’s new?”

I an eyebrow at him and go back to staring at the cars zoom by.

“You’re looking different.”

He briefly glances down at his suit jacket and slacks, eyes darkening slightly before he sets his gaze at the horizon again.

“The world is catching up to me.”

“Looks like you’re the only one.”

He looks over at me.

I am unchanged.

At least I think I am.

He smirks.

“Boyfriend now?”

Our eyes flicker towards the promise ring necklace hanging around my neck. It has been with me for two years and I have forgotten its existence.

I blush a little.

“Right. I forgot.”

I hear his laugh for the first time. It is low, rich, tinged with amusement and a bit of sadness. It is a beautiful color.

“Looks like the world is catching up to the both of us.”

I nod a little and we both settle back into the comfortable silence, reliving four years and twenty-three days ago. It’s a little different. But sort of the same.

He breaks the silence.

“Since we’ve fulfilled our promise… let’s make a new one?”

I look over at him.

“Let’s promise to trade our lives here again. Someday. Let’s leave it to fate to decide. The weather, the day, the hour.” He smirks a little conspiratorially as I bite back a grin.

“Sure. Promise?”

“Promise.”

We make our promise sitting at the bus stop, pinkies linked, feet drawing patterns in the chilly air, half-sheltered under the awning as the sunlight seeps through.

--

We meet again six years and twelve days later.

I’d say it was fate.

But it was the second coincidence.

Coincidences aren’t meant to happen twice.

The rain is pouring as I hurry to make it under the awning of the bus stop and nearly crash into a man who has apparently just eyed the same space I did.

I’m ready to retort, until my words falter in my throat.  

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

He’s changed a little yet again. He’s older. More mature. He’s still wearing his slacks and suit. He looks mildly upset. But his hair is wet like always.

“Dressed like that, I’d think you’d have a chauffeur or something to get you home with this weather.”

He grimaces a bit.

“His day off was today. I decided to take the bus stop home… for old time’s sake.”

I grin a little as we both sit down underneath the awning, watching the rain fall. There are definitely less cars today.

“Always changing aren’t you,” he remarks and this time, I am not taken by surprise as I was six years ago.

My promise ring is now nestled on my ring finger.

“What’s his name?”

“His name’s Sehun. We got married three years ago.”

“Congratulations.”

“A little overdue, but I’ll take it.”

We glance at each other for a second before bursting out laughing.

“It’s raining again,” he remarks.

“Kind of full circle isn’t it?”

He his head and I can tell he’s thinking back to our first meeting.

“Yeah… kind of full circle.”

I scan him up and down.

“You look tired.”

His face immediately fixes itself into a frown.

“Yeah. I’m tired. Maybe I need to go get married or something.”

And as we sit there, waiting for the bus to come, we are two different people with fading memories of a meeting at a bus stop ten years ago.

“Hey, Kai.”

He looks at me, a little weary.

“You know my name.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“It’d be kind of hard not to know it when your face is in the news almost every day.”

His dark brown eyes sadden.

“I thought I’d share a quote with you,” I continue.

He nods, deep in thought.

“Bob Marley once said, ‘Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet’.”

He looks a little startled, pausing for a full minute, and when he turns to look at me again, his face is wet. I can’t tell if it's the rain or tears.

“Learn to feel the rain alright? Or you’ll live under the storm cloud the rest of your life.”

He looks away. It’s silent for a bit before he responds.

“Let’s promise to trade our lives here again. Someday. Let’s leave it to fate to decide. The weather, the day, the hour.”

His voice breaks at the end.

I reach over and latch my pinkie onto his shaking one.

“Promise.”

He doesn’t get onto my bus and I watch him sitting alone in the rain as I leave.

--

Maybe it was fate or coincidence after all. Three times is supposed to be the lucky charm.

I guess not.

I never saw Kai again… in person or on the news.

I heard he’d resigned from his position the day after our second meeting.

As I sat alone at the bus stop on another rainy day, I could almost hear the faint whispers of a vow made many years and experiences ago.

“Let’s promise to trade our lives here again. Someday. Let’s leave it to fate to decide. The weather, the day, the hour.”

I would always wait for the day he was ready to face reality again. When he was ready to confront fate and destiny.

I smiled and whispered back to the emptiness.

“Promise.”