“Jackson where are you?”

            “Doing my volunteer work at the mental hospital. Why?”

            I grabbed my keys and started heading to my car. “I was at the bakery and bought you your favorite sweet bread! Can I go give it to you right now? It’s still warm.”

            “Sure,” Jackson said over the phone. “Although…you wouldn’t mind making a visit to a mental hospital?”

            “Oh no not at all!” I replied. “If anything, I think it’ll be interesting to see what you do during your volunteer hours.”

            So I headed over to the mental hospital, bag of sweet bread in tow. The hospital was near the downtown area, and as I passed through it flashes of what happened just a couple of nights ago swam through my mind: the brown-eyed boy, the Taemin look-alike with the caramel skin, me getting on his motorcycle and immediately feeling so safe holding onto him, even though he’d been a complete stranger to me. “Jongin,” I still remember him telling me. “I go by Jongin.”

            When I stepped in through the doors of the mental hospital, I already spotted Jackson hanging out by the front desk. “Here you go,” I said to him as I handed him the bread.

            “Oooo thanks!” Jackson replied. “This looks great.”

            A boy in a beanie and ear buds suddenly comes up to the desk.

            “How’s she doing?” the receptionist asked him as she handed him some papers.

            The boy shrugged. “The usual, I guess.” Then his head turned over to me and I realized that it was the boy from the other night: Jongin. I felt Jackson tense up beside me, although I didn’t know why he would.

            “Oh, it’s you!” I exclaimed a bit too happily.

            Jongin looked flustered to see me, but offered a, “Hi,” before leaving back down the hall, papers in hand.

            “Wait,” Jackson said. “You…you know that guy?”

            “Yeah,” I replied. “When eating with Jiyeon the other night I almost got mobbed by a bunch of guys. He was a waiter at the ramen restaurant Jiyeon and I had gone to and saved me. I got away on his motorcycle.”

            “Wow…” Jackson seemed speechless, which was unlike him.

            “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Do you know Jongin, too?”

            “Something like that,” Jackson mumbled as he munched on his sweet bread. If I didn’t know any better, I could’ve sworn that he was biting back a smile. “His mom has mental issues, and he visits her from time to time. He’s a good guy.”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah.”

I smiled to myself. “I got that vibe from him when he saved me. His eyes, too. Very pure.”

            “Very genuine.” Genuine. The word rang a bell in my mind.

            Jackson showed me around the facility, telling me about what he’s learned psychologically about the people there. We then passed by a room, where I caught a glimpse of Jongin sitting at a table, across from a woman that resembled him. His mom.

            Without thinking, I stopped just outside the door.

            “And I saw him,” the woman was saying, serious and in a hushed whisper. “I saw him with my own eyes! He was flying above me, hovering above my bed in my sleep. He told me you were suffering.”

“I’m fine, mom,” Jongin said. “Honestly.” He glanced up and noticed me standing outside. I flinched and looked away.

            “Go in,” Jackson whispered beside me, pushing me forward. “I’ll be waiting outside and we can go get something to eat after you’re done, yeah?”

            I nodded. He truly was my best friend.

            Stepping into the room, I gently closed the door behind me. “Hi,” I said to Jongin. “I, um…I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

            “Why are you here?” Jongin asked, and I found his tone rather cold. “You really shouldn’t be here.”

            I shouldn’t have been. He was right. But how could I possibly explain to him the sense of familiarity I felt around him? That I feel like I’ve known him from before?

            “Jongin, who is this pretty girl?” the woman asked. “You never told me you had a girlfriend! And she’s so pretty!”

            “Mom, she’s…she’s not my girlfriend,” Jongin said to her. He looked back at me. “I’m sorry.”

            “No, it’s okay,” I replied quickly. I shook her hand politely. “I’m Moon Hyemi. Your son saved me the other night.”

            “Oh, he did?” she asked, amazed.

            I nodded. “Yeah.”

            Jongin’s mom talked to me a bit more, telling me about her visions and thoughts. I listened attentively, and all the while I felt Jongin’s eyes on me.

            “Usually I don’t get any visitors besides my son,” his mother was saying now. “But I’m so grateful to see that he has met someone like you, Hyemi.”

            “You know, I thought I’d never see you again after that night.”

            “Guess things happen for a reason.”

            Jongin and I were walking down the hall, out to where Jackson was supposedly waiting, but he was nowhere in sight.

            “Jackson told me to tell you that he had an urgent appointment,” the receptionist said.

            “Oh,” I said. “Thank you.”

            “I should get back there,” Jongin said, and I noticed now that he seemed to back away from me a lot, like he’d gone too far just by talking to me. “Um, I’ll see you around.”

            “No,” I blurted out. What are you doing? “Want to have lunch?”

            “Lunch?”

            “Yeah,” I said. “To, you know, repay you for saving me the other night.”

            “I don’t know…”

            “Oh come on,” I said, playfully nudging his arm. “You know you want to. I’ll pay! Free food!”

            Jongin bit back a shy smile, which I found rather cute. “Fine. But only because you’re paying.”

            So Jongin and I went to a nearby café and sat down, ordering sandwiches and some coffee. We sat in at table by the window, where the afternoon sunlight shone down on him. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

            “So,” I said as I took a sip of my coffee. “Jongin, do you have any hobbies?”

            He took a bite of his sandwich, then said, “Dancing.”

            “Dancing?” I asked. “That’s so cool! My boyfriend Taemin likes to dance, too.”

            He smirked. “Really.”

            I nodded. “Yup! You two actually look a lot alike. Maybe you should meet him some time.”

            Jongin rolled his eyes. Like Jackson, he seemed to express an immediate dislike towards Taemin. “I think I’ll pass,” he replied a bit sarcastically.

            I felt kind of bad for bringing up Taemin so I immediately tried to redeem myself by saying, “What types of dance do you like to do?”

            “Jazz and ballet.”

            “Wow,” I said, truly amazed. Taemin mainly only did hip hop. “I would like to see that some time.”

            “I can show you after we eat, if you want,” Jongin offered.

            My eyes brightened. “Really?”

            Jongin nodded, sipping his coffee. “Let’s see who dances better. Me or your boyfriend.”

            In my mind, nobody could dance better than Taemin. But Jongin seemed confident in his abilities so I anticipated it.

            After we finished lunch, Jongin took me to what looked like a dance studio. “I used to go here when I was younger,” he explained to me as he opened the door to the practice room. “So they let me use it once in a while on the house.”

            “It’s nice,” I remarked.

            Jongin went over to the boom box and put on a song. I sat on the ground by the mirrors, like an audience waiting for the performer.

            The music started. Jongin warmed up a bit and then faced me as he got into the zone.

Jongin’s dance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQyjKBz0tG8

            I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he danced. His moves were smooth, like velvet. There was so much passion radiating from his dance that I felt like I was there with him, moving along against the music. It was, at the same time, so artistic to watch. This wasn’t just your basic choreographed dance moves, no. Jongin’s dancing was pure art.

            When I got home that evening, I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I closed the front door behind me. Today had been a good day.