Everyone has dreams, no matter how silly they sound or how impossible it is to reach them. Jonghun has one; he wishes to be a composer of sorts, one who composes for big companies that’s known all around the world. His dreams are out of his reach, his long fingers only able to brush slightly against it. Many things hold him down, preventing him to be able to reach out for it, his parents, social life, and his insecurities. He was insecure over his future, if he actually has the talents to be a composer, is he actually moving forward to the right decision. Who wouldn’t fret over such details? People constantly thought about their future, whether they were going to be successful, get married, actually have a job, but they don’t know if it would happen. No one can tell the future.

He was Choi Jonghun, a young man in his early twenties. He attended a big college majoring in the medical field, he and his best friend since junior high, Lee Hongki, shared the same apartment even though the other went to the neighboring arts university. He’s dated a large amount of girls within his life, shortest lasting only a mere three days, longest only half a year, went to parties, drank until he was wasted on the floor accompanied with a hangover, smoked (he’ll never attempt it again, the smoke caught onto the side of his lungs and he could still taste it even after a couple days of not touching a single stick). He’s accidentally kissed Hongki during one of his drunken antics, one of the few events Hongki refuses to let him forget. He’s done majority of the activities listed on a bucket list of “things you should do during your college years” and completely has no idea how his “adult” life will go for him. He didn’t want a routine life filled with a constant cycle that refuses to change; he wanted a life filled with excitement, a new discovery at each turn.

His college life was already like that, changing, filled with a new experience at every turn. He just didn’t want to grow up and embrace the responsibilities of an adult. Growing up was a terrifying thing, you seem to lose child within yourself as you bury yourself under work. You begin to forget the enjoyable things you’ve done and begin living a boring routine of work, eat, home and sleep.

Growing up was just scary.

But before he actually “grew up”, he wanted to experience as many things as possible before he loses his youth. It started with small parties, then to random hook ups, getting wasted and tasting his first cigarette. Then slowly dies down after giving a big sloppy, drunken kiss on his best friend’s lips. After the countless number of girls who he’s hooked up with, after all the failed relationships that barely lasted a week. Everything was losing that sharp edge and he began to walk through the dark, busy streets of Seoul.

He found a new wave of excitement as he wanders through the dark streets, the lights blinded him, the sounds overwhelmed him. It was a breath of new air. It was an enjoyable experience, he’s witnessed many things that occurred during the night like the one time a man had ran in front of him or the other night where he saw a couple of students spray graffiti on the side of a building. His favorite encounters by far are the street performers on the streets, from b-boying to little skits to songs sung by those who wished to be noticed.

He meets one street performer (or he thinks it’s one) on one of his late night strolls. His guitar is slung casually over his shoulder and he was humming a random tune. It wasn’t like there was anything eye-catching about the street performer, he was actually pretty plain looking and Jonghun would’ve ignored him if it weren’t for his voice. His voice captivated him, it wasn’t as emotional as Hongki’s, nor did it show that he was an experienced singer. It was soft, it was gentle, it has a warming feeling to it and you just wanted to hear more. He turns to see the singer plucking at his guitar strings carefully and singing to no one in particular. A boy he concluded. He looked like he barely graduated out of high school with his boyish demeanor, a child-like face with big eyes, thin lips, and dark windswept hair that framed his face, making him look younger than he already does. It was different from Jonghun’s bleach blonde hair and more mature looking face; honestly he thinks he’s much more handsome than the lonely singer.

He approaches the boy and gives him the most charming smile he could conjure up. “Hey.”

The boy looks up from his guitar and raises a brow at Jonghun, “you are?”

“A mere bystander who took notice to your lovely voice,” Jonghun mentally curses himself and his mouth. Damn him and his tendencies to be overly cheesy and romantic.

The boy’s face scrunches up in displeasure. “I’m not a gigolo you know,” he points out.

He really hates himself right now, but manages to smoothly ferret out a reply, “yeah, but I’m not flirting with you or trying to get you to have with me.”

“Technically, you are,” the boy pauses and adds, “the flirting part.”

Jonghun frowns, “I’m not.”

The boy laughs, Jonghun kind of likes his laugh, it’s a bit obnoxious and nasally, but it rings through his head and warms his body. The boy places his guitar aside and stands up and approaches Jonghun. He’s almost as tall as Jonghun, give or take a couple of centimeters and he might not be a boy, but a young man since up close his face is a bit more mature. But he could still be mistaken for a high school student.

“You’re interesting,” he smiles at Jonghun, “I’m Jaejin.”

“No last name?” Jonghun asks.

“You don’t deserve it,” the boy—Jaejin, retorts back, “you’ll get my last name when the time comes.”

Jonghun scoffs and starts playing with his bangs, “it’s not like we’ll see each other again.”

“I’ve seen you walk around these parts, so we might see each other.” Jaejin walks back to his spot and picks up his guitar, “you haven’t told me your name yet. It’s a bit rude to not introduce yourself after someone gave you their name.”

“Jonghun.”

Jaejin laughs and faces Jonghun, “no last name?”

“You don’t deserve it,” Jonghun teases getting a small pout from Jaejin, “just kidding. I’m Choi Jonghun, nice to meet you Jaejin.”

Another laugh escapes the other’s thin lips, “you’re a silly guy.” He slings guitar case over his shoulder and peeks over Jonghun’s shoulder. “Is that a guitar?” He asks, trying to sound disinterested, but the curiosity laced within his voice was too obvious. “I probably sound stupid right now.”

Jonghun laughs and nods, “we can play something together if you want?” He stares at the shorter boy with hopeful eyes. It feels weird to be so open to someone he barely knew, but at the same time it felt so right. He wasn’t sure what’s he’s doing, he wasn’t the type to open up so quickly. It took him and Hongki at least three years to finally become best friends.

“Hmm,” Jaejin hums in consideration, “maybe the next time we meet, it’s getting late.”

Jonghun stares blankly at Jaejin, did he just get turned down. Did the great Choi Jonghun just get turned down? “Um, uh yeah sure, next time we meet,” he stutters out, he was still in disbelief.

The dark-haired boy smiles, god that smile is cute Jonghun thought, god what is wrong with him.

“See you then!” Jaejin waves and begins heading off, the outline of his body getting further and further away. All Jonghun can do is stare at the figure, mouth agape, he couldn’t believe the thoughts that ran through his head with that first encounter. Barely an hour and someone, a guy that looks like he barely graduated out of high school, a guy, had captivated him to such an extent.

“ my life,” Jonghun mutters out.

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a/n: i write things i'll never finish