Oh Sehun          l          Jung Soojung          l          Kim Jongin

Every morning at 7.25 a.m, Jung Soojung hits the snooze button on that oh-so-annoying Mickey Mouse clock that she shares a love-hate relationship with. The original bright red tone of the button has long faded over the years to a disgusting yellowish pastel pink colour. At 7.40 a.m, after hitting the snooze button four times, she finally pulls herself out of the bed (or technically mattress), picking a rubber band on the way to the bathroom to tie her hair into a bun. 

Someone convinced her long ago that pulling the tendrils or better known as your hair away from your face has a magical effect of forcing yourself awake. She had called it bull at that point in time but after her third (and final) warning from her grumpy boss for being late again, she decided that anything must do for her to at least keep that pathetic office job she has. 

After the ritual that she affectionately terms "purgatory" which consists of her occasionally falling asleep on the toilet bowl or swallowing too much toothpaste, the smiley face clock her mother gave her 5 years ago kindly warns her that it is 8 o'clock. By then, Soojung would have slapped her face twice and scuttled around her terribly messy house looking for her bag and making sure she looked presentable enough before grabbing a packet of 3-in-1 coffee mix for her daily fix. 

It's terrible coffee in her opinion but she constantly convinces herself that just one day, she will be lucky enough to find a guy that likes her for who she is, does not mind her unladylike habits and yet also be able to make the perfect cup of coffee for her before she meets her doom of the day. 

By 8.20a.m. she would have locked up her front door and dashed down the stairs of Block 42 (the lift was perpetually faulty), making a left turn towards the bus stop, just in time to catch the 8.30a.m. bus, away from Sunnyhill Avenue towards hell known as the Central Business District.

//

Every morning at 7.25a.m, Oh Sehun tucks the ringing alarm clock beneath his pillow, hoping that the feathers in between are sufficient to drown out that jarring ringing from the darned clock. Sometimes he wonders after the whole ordeal is over and he is wide awake why every morning the same scene replays but he forgets that he could have just slammed down on the snooze button instead. At 7.40a.m. he can no longer take that incessant buzzing and resorts to rolling himself down the bed before crawling to the bathroom.

He thinks it silly why work has to begin in the morning instead of the afternoon since majority of the human population cannot function well early in the morning too. Either ways, he splashes water onto his face a few times, soaking up his bangs. It is time to get myself a hair band. or maybe a wife that can lend me hers, he adds as an afterthought.

By 8 o'clock the alarm on his phone will go off sending him flying around the house to look for a tie that actually matches with his shirt so that he does not end up matching a mustard tie with a red dress shirt like he did last time. Mustard and ketchup is definitely not the first impression you would be trying to give to a big shot client. Somehow he manages to find the time in between to make a cup of freshly brewed coffee, not the 3-in-1 kind ( he hates those), in fact he makes enough coffee for another extra cup. He has bad gaging skills. 

At 8.20a.m. Sehun would have poured away that extra cup of coffee into the sink, grabbed his briefcase and taken the lift down Block 43 (why take the stairs when the lift works?) , making a right turn towards the bus stop. Usually, he is just in time for the 8.30 bus that will drag him away from the lovely Sunnyhill Avenue to Torture Chamber, better known as the Central Business District.

//

Every evening at 6p.m. Soojung would drag her tired self to the bus stop, feeling as though she carried on the her shoulders the weight of the world. Usually she backtracks to pay the convenience mart a visit. "Smiley Treats" is the tackiest convenience store name that a human being could possibly come up with, but it satisfies her ramen cravings so she tells herself to hold back on judgment. People tend to dump in all the chilli seasoning but spicy is not really her thing. Half a pack is more than enough. At times like these she wishes that she was not such an antisocial and would at least have a partner in misery to share the other half of the chilli seasoning with her. 

At 7p.m, after Soojung is done about the pains and tortures of the world to her empty ramen bowl, she leaves for home, as grumpy as she had been the previous day and the day before the previous day, and the day before the day before the previous day....

//

Every evening at 6p.m. Sehun would dash out of the formidable glass doors towards freedom, feeling as though he had just grown a pair of wings. Usually, he heads straight towards this convenience mart called "Yummy Mummy". People find the name hilarious but he thinks it is cute. In fact, they serve the best instant ramen in the whole wide world. He decides he must be getting delirious to be thinking such nonsense. 

All is well till he realises that the instant ramen has way too much chilli seasoning. In fact, half a pack would suffice, why bother adding so much? But he sighs and adds the whole pack in anyway despite knowing the numbness his tongue would have to endure later on. 

Once again, he regrets putting the whole pack of chilli seasoning in.

At 7p.m, after Sehun has gulped down 2 bottles of mineral water, he leaves Yummy Mummy with a numbing tongue, swearing that tomorrow he would remember not to put in the whole pack just like he had told himself the previous day and the day before the previous day, and the day before the day before the previous day....

//

But what if at 7.25a.m. Soojung overslept and missed the bus? Or if Sehun decided to avoid the paintworks and turned left instead of right? Would anything have changed?

Perhaps Soojung would have bumped into Sehun. Perhaps they would have rode the same bus, sat on the same seat. Or maybe mumbled under their breaths about 3-in-1 coffee.

Perhaps they would have clicked. Their paths would have crossed like many other lines that meet somewhere. The other half that they yearned for so much, a reflection of who they are, someone to fill in the gaps.

What if they got along so well that they decided to take it to the next level, fell in love, dated, spent their lives together sharing a packet of chilli seasoning between the two of them and pointing out all the flaws in 3-in-1 coffee?

Let's not get caught up in "what ifs".

Fate just does not work that way. The more we have in common, the less we get. That was the way parallel lines worked-- they were simply not destined to intersect. Similar in every way, complementary beings except time was not on their side. And just like the lines that run alongside each other on a piece of paper, side by side, so close but never quite close, they will continue just the way that they were. 

At 8.25a.m. Soojung would take a left turn towards the bus stop.

At 8.25a.m. Sehun would take a right turn towards the bus stop. 

At 6p.m. Soojung would pour in half a packet of chilli seasoning into her ramen.

At 6p.m. Sehun would pour in a whole packet of chilli seasoning into his ramen.

Time would continue running over the years and these two lonely souls would not have known the difference.

//

One day, Oh Sehun would be waiting at the end of the aisle, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. The organ starts playing and he prays to Lord above on that stained glass that the sweat would not soak through his suit and ruin everything with blotches. He wipes the sweat on his palms over those crisp black pants that was slowly but surely getting crumpled.

One day, Jung Soojung would be walking down the aisle, nervously grabbing on to the bouquet of flowers and hoping that her heels would not get trapped in that ridiculously long train of hers. In fact, she questions why she had wanted that stupid impractical train in the first place. Ok, Soojung positive thoughts, no tripping.

She approaches the middle of the aisle.

He feels a sense of familiarity, was it deja vu but not quite. He must have seen her somewhere before, those large brown eyes full of life. It was as though he could feel what she felt, hear what she thought. Perhaps she was as nervous as he was, reminding herself not to trip over that ridiculously long train. 

She feels a funny sense of comfort when she sets her eyes on his face. That sharp, chiseled jaw, or those eyes, that poker face. She might have seen it before. She understood him, that he was trying hard not to soak up his suit. That the aisle seemed much longer than she remembered, or the notes coming out from the organ much longer than she recalled. She knows him.

And for that moment, the world around them stops spinning. The clock stops ticking. In that moment the world was theirs to control, fate was theirs to decide, the memories theirs to keep. It was as though the world had finally conspired to bring them together, the two miserable parallel lines. The galaxies had come to a halt in celebration of the crossing of lines that were meant to be. The parallel lines that somehow defied the very laws of nature and found a way to twist themselves together.

However, there were weddings to run, aisles to walk down and that moment would soon be over. Reality them back in. Soojung would carefully reposition that right foot she had placed slightly off the aisle-- towards the left-- towards Sehun also known as the Best Man. 

She takes in a deep breath as though the oxygen inhaled could clear that moment of irrationality that clouded her mind and that absurb thoughtlessness. The church felt stuffy, not like the romantic vibes it gave off when she first stepped in. The bells that sounded were dreary and tired, not lively and welcoming. She felt like retching, taking a step back and running away from what is to come. This was all too wrong.

Let's try this again Soojung, she chimes in her head.

A perfectly pedicured left foot strapped in a dazzling gold shoe rests itself on the red dusty floormat. This time is points slightly to the right, back on track-- back to her rightful husband-to-be, the man that she has known for far longer than a moment -- back to Kim Jongin. 

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR FOLKS!! It's been a while since I updated ( I know I'm a horribly inconsistent person)  because I had a major block in the head and the writing does not really flow so thank you guys for even reading until here HAHA. Comments are always loved :-)