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His mom was being ridiculous. One word about his move and she seemed to have flown over at the speed of light. Waiting for him with a load of grocery bags when he returned from work.

“Are you being serious?” He grumbled unlocking the door for her.

“More than I have ever been,” she replied happily. “Look at all the things you brought with you. Of course you’re going to need help unpacking and settling in.”

He scanned the tower of boxes sitting in the empty living room and withheld a sign. He knew the chore of unpacking. It would take at least a day or two, maybe more to sort out everything, but he was sure he didn’t have a lot. What he had forgotten he would replace because he wasn’t keen on returning to the apartment.

“Isn’t it so nice here? Look at all that sunshine, that big window is just great,” his mother beamed. In comparison to his previous home the new apartment had a wall sized window he expected to be blinded by every morning. Also, because he lived in the direction the sun rose each day. Just very perfect.

The scenic view was nice he had to admit. Not to exaggerate that he could see the entire city, but he did see a heck lot from here. A motorcycle illegally parked on the sidewalk. A woman tossing a cigarette carton onto the street as she walked out of the convenience store. A vehicle blowing past the red light. The skyscrapers, the towers, and the sky stretching into the beyond.

“You can start your new life here,” his mother cheerily said opening the fridge. “Don’t think about Mina anymore. I always knew that girl wouldn’t do it for you.”

He watched her silently. Deciding it was best not to comment he turned to heft boxes down, searching for the one he’d marked as kitchenware.

“You don’t need to bother, mom. I can take care of it by myself.”

“You’re just stubborn like your father, but in the end, you’ll say I was right all along,” his mother lectured from the kitchen. “I spoke with your aunt yesterday. Her friend says her daughter is single and would be a good potential for you.”

“Can you at least let me settle in first?” Jongin sighed looking up at her from where he was kneeling.

“Lets talk about it now,” his mother pushed. “She’s a good girl. You could even get married by next year.”

He laughed but more like scoffed. “Lets not move so fast, mom. There is a time for everything, you know.”

“Like now, for you to start dating,” his mother stared at him. “And I mean serious dating.”

“Mom, please,” he rubbed his forehead. He was tired. He was hungry. He wanted dinner. Here was his mother constantly pressuring him to start dating when he’d just dumped Mina. Couldn’t he have a second to clear his head in peace?

“I’m going to go buy some water,” Jongin rose to his feet abandoning his box. “I forgot to buy water.”

Slipping into his shoes he left the apartment unable to listen to his mother’s lecturing any longer. He needed a fresh bout of air. Pressing the button for the elevator he waited. Mina hadn’t called all day. He wondered if she had returned yet or if she was still in Daejeon and what she was doing there. She should have seen his message. Should have returned his call by now.

The elevator opened and he entered pressing for the lobby. Should he call again he wondered. He knew leaving didn’t do any justification. He needed a real closure to their relationship. Before that, he had many things to go over with her. Things he should have been honest about earlier. If they broke off forever without being able to clear himself he would never feel at peace.

As the thought peaked the doors opened and he stared straight at the very person he should have told Mina about. Except he hadn’t.

“Where the hell have you been?” Mina angrily demanded from the couch when he walked through the door at 5AM.

His blazer dangled from his fingers. Standing by the doorway staring at her feeling haggard but more guilty. The material reeking of liquor from last night’s after party, because he had had one too many after Mina left him to meet a male model. A friend she had said, but Jongin wasn’t sure he believed her.

“I waited the entire night for you!” Mina raised her voice.

“I’m sorry…”

“Forget it! You can go to hell!” Tossing a couch pillow at him she stomped off slamming the door to her bedroom.

And that had been that.

Jongin gulped then wondered if she heard.

“I’m Namjoo,” he remembered her slurring her words that night, “we went to the same school.”

His memory was still a little foggy, but he clearly recalled. She had been upset that night, too. About what he couldn’t remember, but they had shared a few friendly drinks. Had talked about high school. No, I don’t remember you he remembered saying. Then they’d laughed some. And then he took her away, because it would be fun stabbing the people who had upset them in the back.

Drunken behavior was really absurd.

He wanted to slam his head into the wall.

The last person he would have ever expected to see again would be her. Too surprised Jongin stared speechless. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. His brain suddenly refused to work for him.

Of all cowardly things he had ever done he had abandoned her that night. Waking up by himself, getting dressed by himself, and leaving her alone as he crept out of the motel.

What did he need to say in this situation?

Pressing his lips together he gulped a second time hoping he was being discreet about it. The doors started closing. Brain firing back to life his arm shot out without his thinking.

“Are you getting in?” He asked.

His heart slammed nervously inside his chest as she walked into the lift. The doors closed shutting them in together. The machine hummed noisily as it brought them up. Jongin couldn’t clear his dry throat or his dry lips afraid to make a noise. It finally clicked a second too late that he was headed back up. It wouldn’t make sense that he had ridden the elevator down just to go back up.

He felt his phone in his pocket and pulled it out. Right, he just needed to make up a reason not to look weird. It rang a few times and then his mother answered. “I forgot my keys, so I’m coming back for it.”

Surprise jolted through his veins when Namjoo turned to look at him. Quickly turning away from her he in a breath. Relief soared through him when the elevator landed on his floor. Squeezing past her he felt their arms brush heightening his anxiety. Rushing down the rest of the hallway he hurriedly knocked on the door.

“What keys are you talking about?” his mother questioned. “I can’t find them anywhere.”

Walking in without thinking, Jongin started going through his apartment. Searching under his boxes. Walking through the empty rooms. Doing all of this without thinking clearly.

“Are you sure you don’t have it on you?” his mother asked.

Hands landing smack against his pants he felt for his keys and pulled out a silver key belonging to the apartment.

“What is wrong with you?” his mother shook her head.

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Jongin’s head was even less clear when he stepped out of the convenience store a block away from the apartment. Pausing outside he tilted his head back to oversee the structure housing over 100 tenants. He didn’t get it. How was Namjoo where he just moved?

Swallowing, he pressed his lips together. This meant they would run into each other often. Did she remember he wondered? What should he say to her? Was it right to act like nothing happened at all? Or would that make him detestable?

God, he didn’t know. He had no idea.

He should’ve had more control over himself that night. Why did he allow himself to go so far?

Jongin rubbed his forehead as he stepped into the building and waited for the elevator. Back into the apartment he saw that his mother was already sorting through his kitchenware box. Working diligently to make sure he was comfortable; so he wouldn’t be too stressed unpacking alone. Now he was kind of glad she had come.

“Where is your bed? Your furniture?” she inquired. “You didn’t bring them with you?”

“They’re kind of hard to pack, mom,” Jongin murmured sitting down at the kitchen table to see her start going through the cabinets. Opening a bottled water for her he said, “Drink some water.”

“Then where are you going to sleep?”

“The floor,” he said the obvious. “I’m going to get a bed and a couch tomorrow. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“The floor to is too hard. Just come sleep at home.”

“Mom,” he rolled his eyes.

She sighed. “Fine. Have it your way. Go finish putting the rest of your things away. I’m going to make dinner.”

He was a good halfway through unpacking when his mom called him for dinner. Then they washed dishes together as she reminisced telling him tales about his father. It was one of the few things he enjoyed when being with his mother. Retelling stories about his old man as if he was still alive, because they both missed him.

Jongin could still remember those rough calloused hands rustling his hair as his father grabbed his keys on his way out. To save lives. To become a hero. During his time alive Jongin had greatly looked up to him. A reliable family man with deep laughter that seem to rumble all the way down to his stomach. Always there for his birthdays. Never missing a single school event. Advising him comically when he started going through puberty. Jongin could speak proudly of his father, wanted to be as big hearted and just like him, and had cried much when he didn’t make it back home. And he imagined how much lonelier his mom must be.

His childhood had been special because of his loving his parents. Someday he wanted to be the same kind of person to his children. How nice would it be to have someone see him in the same light?

“I saw that there is a recycling area in the back,” his mother said leaving him to rinse the rest of the dishes. “I’m going to clean up these boxes. When you’re done bring the rest down. It’s such a clutter in here.”

He called out to retaliate. There was tomorrow to take care of them he wanted to say, but she was already out the door. He grumbled underneath his breath. It was already late. Night had fallen and she still wanted to venture out by herself.

Hurriedly stowing the rest of the dishes onto the dishrack he snatched the three boxes sitting around and headed downstairs. The cool evening breeze was a breath of fresh air to his lungs when he stepped outside. Serenely calming as it chilled the sweat away. Once he walked his mother out he would have a really warm and relaxing shower.  

Easily spotting his mother he started in her direction. Planning to get this over with quickly, but he soon realized she was not alone. The nervous tension first started at his feet before spiking up the rest of his body until his heart went thud thud thud.

Today was just going especially well. He couldn’t be any more damned than this.

When his mother called him over he forced himself to trudge a little closer. Did she remember was literally all he could think about?

Oblivious to the tension spiraling around them his mother asked, “What floor do you live on?”

“Huh?” Namjoo asked surprised. “Oh uh…I…uh…the sixth floor.”

“That’s so nice. My son lives on the fifth. In 513. Perhaps you two could become friends,” his mother shot him a grin. He tried not to groan. “His name is Jongin. What is yours?”

“What? Me?” Namjoo asked as if she’d been spacing off and hadn’t heard. He caught her eyes nervously moving left and right. “I’m uh…my name’s Namjoo.”

“What a nice name,” his mother commented happily.

“Mom,” he breathed, wishing she would stop with this chatter.

“What?” She asked unaware of his discomfort. Back to Namjoo, “We just had dinner and there were some leftovers. If you haven’t had dinner yet, I could bring some over.”

“No!” Namjoo shook her hands. Silence diluted the air when the cardboard box in her hands landed flat on the ground. They both stared down at it before Namjoo scrambled to pick it up. Her eyes went wide as she clutched it to her chest and stared at him.

He saw it then. Recognition. The anxiety swimming over her face, because they were meeting again.

She knew who he was.

Jongin’s throat went dry. Remorse filled him from head to toe. He felt vulnerable, .

“I should go.” Namjoo stuffed the cardboard into the already overfilled bin. Without saying her goodbye she turned to disappear into the building with the door heavily shutting.

“I wonder why she’s in such a hurry. It would have been nice to talk longer,” his mother went on. “She seems like such a nice girl. If you ever see her again invite her over for a drink.”

“Forget it, mom.” Jongin turned back to the task at hand.

“Why? You live in the same place,” his mother pointed out as if he didn’t already know. “Who knows, maybe she might be interested in you.”

“You’re going to do this again?” Jongin gave her a flat stare.

“There are a lot of women out there, son,” his mother reminded, “but sometimes you don’t have to look any farther than in front of you.”

He listened to her giggle. He’d let it go because she was enjoying herself.

That night after showering, Jongin tossed down his towel as he stepped out of the bathroom. Four boxes still needed going through. Sitting down with hair still damp Jongin started going through the box with all his books. It didn’t amount to much since he never liked reading anyway. Pulling one book out after another until he finally came across what he was looking for.

His high school year book.

The corners were still sharp because he rarely touched it. High school was just high school, an unimportant time of his life now. It had been a phase of go lucky fun. Since college he had started taking his life more seriously. A few people he really kept in touch with, but many he no longer knew. And he knew a lot of them no longer cared about him. High school was just that era before life started crashing down.

It had been that time when his father died and he had been forced to really live.

Jongin slowly went through the pages. Reading all the notes that wished him well. The phone numbers scribbled down in hopes that he may keep in touch. How many of them still lived at home? How many numbers still belonged to the same person?

As he flipped through he realized everyone did change. Who had been the most outgoing student could be a struggling blue-collar employee now. The funniest student probably hadn’t become a comedian. The smart math girl who had tutored him was now an average housewife. He, who had been an outstanding athlete, was a regular office worker.

At last he landed on the page with Kim Namjoo’s portrait. The young face smiling shyly at the camera in her school uniform. He had vague memories of seeing her in the hallways but never really speaking to her. Until that night about a month ago.

Snapping the book shut he leaned back with a permeating sigh. What should he say to her when he saw her again? Would they have to confront their mistake or could they just walk it off as if it never happened? The latter sounded so much better, but his sense of judgement told him no. He couldn’t pass it off.

Was sorry an appropriate thing to say when they had been consenting adults? The more he thought about it, the more foolish he felt. This was more frustrating than he ever imagined.

Giving up he pulled out his sleeping bag and crawled under the covers hoping the night would go fast.

He woke up by six groggy and with a headache. The sun had risen too early. Pouring sharp rays of sunlight into his apartment. Stinging his eyes until he gave up sleep. Making himself a cup of coffee he washed up and had a bowl of cereal wishing he could fall back asleep. After dressing he looked through his phone. Not a call from Mina yet. It had been three days since she’d gone to Daejeon. Where the hell was she?

She should have called to him out for leaving her at least. All would seem normal then and he would be able to move on with life. Mina wasn’t the kind of woman to stay quiet when things didn’t go her way. Perhaps she really did get casted in the audition.

The more he thought about her being happy with her new casting and forgetting him, the less happy he felt. As he waited for the elevator he wondered why he still cared. If Mina didn’t care about him he should just forget it. Why hang on? He would just look pathetic exactly as his mom said.

When the elevator doors hissed open Jongin stared straight past the three other persons in the lift. His eyes landed smack on Namjoo standing in the back clutching onto her bag. Their eyes caught before she quickly looked away. Pressing his lips together he stepped into the lift standing in a spot at the front. Then the elevator stopped on the fourth floor and two other people stepped in. Pushed further into the back, Jongin felt his skin start to sizzle with sweat.

Squeezed uncomfortably into the middle he watched the elevator stop on another floor. More people entered. Now crushed at the back with Namjoo he really felt his throat go dry. Regret started to swell his brain. He should have really figured out what to say to her before falling asleep yesterday.

Namjoo sidestepped away when his sleeve brushed her arm and bumped into the corner. They glanced at each other and his face heated up. The imagery of being up close face to face with her that night soared through his memory. His pulse skyrocketed.

Jongin ended up clearing his throat and watched as a few others turned to glance back at him. Embarrassed, he blushed. This was suffocating. Especially with Namjoo standing so stiffly next to him.

Would they really pretend like the other person didn’t exist?

They weren’t strangers he tried to tell himself. Once an eon ago they had gone to school together. Just play it cool.

He gulped once and glanced at her through the corner of his eye. There was really no reason to make this so complicated. They were literally neighbors now. Avoiding each other would be impossible if they kept running into each other.

Regaining a bit of his courage he finally mustered his voice to life. “Uh…hi.”

Namjoo instantly looked at him. For a moment he thought she might return the greeting. Instead, she immediately covered and started heaving.