[2001]

Triplets

It’s dark. And cold. And silent. No street light in the freezing night of Seoul, dreamed city of lost country boys.

Jaejoong hurries among the alleys of the capital, heading for the restaurant where he works at dinner, in order to earn enough money to get by. They’re never enough, though.

He waits. And cooks. And washes. It’s past midnight when he’s finally free to go, a bunch of money in his pocket that won’t last till the following week.

Jaejoong pouts and blows circles of smoke in the air: he’s still so hungry. He hopes he will be able to catch the last bus.

He’s lucky. And jumps on. And sits down. The moon rays are shining on his face while he’s falling asleep, rocked by the waving movements of the bus.

Jaejoong wakes up right in time for his stop and jumps off the car, greeting the driver. He’s about to reach the hostel where he lives when someone catches his attention.

It’s bright. And warm. And noisy. A guy is break dancing under the sign of a long-closed shop,  second hand clothes folding his body and a ripped tooth breaking his smile.

Jaejoong feels something rising in his chest and runs away, scared by the rhythm his heart is now following.

And it’s sudden. And rough. And unexpected. The guy grabs his arm and turns him around. “You lost this” he says.

Jaejoong looks at his hands and finds one of his gloves, wet by the snowflakes that are now covering both of them.

Thank you. And Sorry. And I really have to go. He replies, hands trembling, and cheeks reddening.

Jaejoong lowers his head, puts the glove in the same pocket he put the money before and he’s about to run away again when the guy breaks the silence.

You’re welcome. And no need to be sorry. And can I ask you a question?

But he doesn’t wait for Jaejoong’s answer before going on.

“Do you always speak in triplets?”

And Jaejoong laughs. And smiles. And this will probably be his last triplet as there aren’t enough words in three verses to describe that hurricane named Jung Yunho.