Special Chapter: Gwangju

“Are you sure I won’t be a bother?” I ask one final time before I struggle to pull on my backpack.

Hoseok sighs with a faint smile. Shaking his head, he gestures to my luggage. “Why are you so nervous?” he asks as I reluctantly hand the backpack over.

I purse my lips, “Don’t avoid my question!” I whinge. 

He chuckles as he hauls the bag over his shoulders. He adjusts the straps, furrowing his brows in concentration, before reverting his attention back to me. He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry they’ll love you.” He reaches out and pulls my forehead to his lips, he kisses it then grins as he messes my hair.

We finally both have overlapping breaks and Hoseok had been hinting at his eagerness to introduce me to his family and his family to me ever since. Once I finally gave in and brought the topic up, his eyes lit up and smile broadened. He almost immediately went to planning our one-day-one-night vacation together with his family—it was unfortunately extremely short because our breaks actually only overlapped for two days. The day after I mentioned wanting to meet his family he was so well-prepared we may as well have gotten our bags and left at that very moment.

“C’mon or we’ll miss the train,” Hoseok chants as he picks up his shoulder bag from beside his feet and heads towards the door.

I let out a breath and swiftly check over my shoulder to make sure we’ve turned off all the apartment’s lights and switches before heading out after him. I don’t know how he can have so much energy this early in the morning.

We wait patiently at the train station. Surprisingly there are several other people catching the 6am train out of the city. The ride from Seoul to Gwangju should take approximately four hours so we decided to leave early and make the most of our stay. I check the large board with the time and train schedule in different coloured lights over our heads. We have approximately forty minutes before our train arrives.

We take a seat on one of the many vacant metal benches. It bites me through my jeans as the cool morning air nips at my exposed skin. I stuff my hands into my pockets and tuck my chin into my chest, burrowing myself into the hood of my jacket.

I hear rustling and see Hoseok scavenging through his bag next to me. He pulls out a jacket and hands it to me. I muffle out a thank you as I pull it over my hoodie. He smiles softly, the tiredness now melting into his expression.

“Sleepy?” I murmur.

He drags a breath into his lungs, presses his lips together and shakes his head sheepishly. The tip of his nose appears to be freezing up. He shifts his eyes to the tracks. He’s horrible at lying but I let it slip, mostly because I’m feeling no more awake than he is.

The clouds of icy air Hoseok exhales are disrupted as he pulls his black mask over his mouth. He then readjusts his beanie, obviously fighting the cold too. If I knew no better, I could probably mistake the chattering of our teeth for the train pulling up on to the tracks.

I stare at the deep pit in front of us. At first I would not think the railway would have to be so deep for a train. The tracks go further than my vision can take me, disappearing far off into the distance. I let my mind wander in the cold silence.

I stiffly turn my head to the side to see how the other early-morning travellers are coping with the weather. I begin to wonder how the men in their suits do not get cold by the chill creeping up their suit sleeves or up their ankle-grazing pants when they sit down.

Soon enough I feel a weight on my shoulder. I carefully turn my head to find Hoseok fast asleep after denying his fatigue only minutes ago. I can’t blame him. His schedule had been going non-stop for yet another year—I probably speak on behalf of their fans too when I say that it’s more surprising when him and the boys get a break rather than a comeback.

I smile wearily as I gaze down at him. His eyes are gently shut and mask pulled over his nose, his brows are slightly furrowed beneath his woollen beanie. I sigh as I try to figure what he could be stressing about in his sleep. I’m tempted to teasingly massage the crease forming between his brows but fear of waking him and so decide against it. I feel sleep begin rocking me too but shoo it away—one of us has to be awake when the train arrives.

I jolt awake to the loud roar of the train pulling into the station. Hoseok is already up and is hastily throwing our bags over his shoulders. He looks slightly surprised when I jump up and instinctively rush towards the opening doors. I glance over my shoulder as he gallops towards me, he beams when he’s finally caught up. Suddenly the sun hits my eyes causing me to squint. Hoseok quickly ushers me onto the train before I can question what time it is. It looks far too bright to still be six in the morning and I feel far too rested to have only slept for half an hour.

For the whole train ride we basically slept. We woke up around the same time about three hours into the trip with bloated faces to the smell of strong coffee and tea. If it weren’t for the growing chatter amongst the serving staff and other passengers, the sun would have soon woken me up. The sunlight pierces my eyes and it takes me a moment to adjust. It beams warmly on my face, welcoming me into consciousness.

Hoseok points out of the window to the city which is beginning to peak out from the distance. There are hints of him having just woken up.  His black hair is flat against his forehead, split messily in the middle, and his eyes are yet to fully awake. But he smiles so brightly that I don’t feel the need for my usual morning caffeine.

Gwangju is a lot bigger than I expected but then again I wasn’t sure what to expect. There were less skyscrapers but still many buildings. The Jung family’s house was a few stops out from the city in a humble neighbourhood.

Hoseok stated he lived only a few minutes from the train station so we decided to walk. All the while there’s a look of eagerness and bitter sweet reminisce in his expression. My nerves build up with every step we take. Since I don’t know how close we are getting to his house, every corner could be the last and every nearing abode could be the one.

As we pass by various blocks, stores and a playground, Hoseok would light up and beam into a full length story of ‘over there I..’  or ‘when I was younger I used to…there,’ or ‘I remember…’ He’d enthusiastically re-enact some scenarios with overly dramatic expressions and a huge grin in between each breath. I could feel him come alive with each relived memory.

As one last story comes to an end, Hoseok starts walking towards the door of a red clay coloured house. I hesitantly follow after him.

I stare at the door with my breath held. We don’t say a word for a moment until Hoseok puts a hand on the small of my back and turns to me with a slightly nervous smile. I return the smile with a bit more nerves.

“They’ll love you,” he assures me before gently kissing the top of my head, “Just be you.”

I purse my lips and sigh, feeling slightly the edge slightly dulled by his comforting words and slightly dazed expression. He gives me a moment longer to calm myself before knocking on the door. He smiles as we hear rushed footsteps from inside.

The door swings open and his bright smile is mirrored by his older sister. They both let out a cheer and embrace. His parents both appear slightly afterwards and do the same.

“This is Choi Ahri,” Hoseok says gesturing to me after they pull away, “my girlfriend,” he adds coyly.

Their faces light up and instantly greet me just as they did their son and brother—with enthusiastic cheering and tight hugs.

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Mrs Jung says with a keen smile. She and her husband are seated on the couch with Dawon, Hoseok’s older sister, on the arm rest.

I sit opposite them with my heartbeat drumming, hands clasped on lap and back stiffly straight.  After they had shown me around and mentioned I’d share a room with Dawon for the stay, they had shooed Hoseok away to unpack his own things.

“Hoseok talks a lot about his family too,” I say with a hopefully convincing smile. I feel my face jitter and press my lips together, “He was excited during the whole trip.”

Mrs Jung smiles warmly, a motherly aura radiating from her. Hoseok has his mother’s eyes but father’s nose. His sister is incredibly beautiful that I feel somewhat ashamed in front of her.

“We were slightly worried since you arrived an hour late,” Mrs Jung says as she touched her husband’s hand. He nods in confirmation.

“Ah—” I think for a moment, my mind still lagging behind, “I think Hoseok let me sleep a little more at the station,” I reason. That would explain why it didn’t look like six in the morning when we boarded.

The conversation dithers. I squeeze my own hands and look around their living room. The walls are painted a creamy white with various sized framed photos. There’s also a shelf with some ornaments, certificates and medals. What catches my eye is what appears to be a framed family photograph with a tiny Hoseok.

Mr Jung must have noticed me squinting at the photo because he stands up and walks towards the shelf. He chuckles as he gazes at the photograph before handing it to me, a reminiscent smile still lingering on his face. It’s the same expression Hoseok had when he was telling me stories from his childhood.

I’m a little taken aback and catch myself staring in shock at Hoseok’s dad. He laughs and gestures at the photograph. Mrs Jung and Dawon both rise from their seats and approach me to eagerly tell the story behind the photo.

The photo is a classic black and white family photograph. Mr and Mrs Jung stand smiling side by side in white button up shirts; Dawon, looking about nine, is in a white dress with little pigtails, smiling shyly with her father’s hand comfortably on her shoulder; unlike the others, little Hoseok in pouting and appears to have had just burst into tears only moments ago. I giggle at his oddly ruffled hair, tear-stained cheeks, scrunched nose, protruding bottom lip and knitted brows.

“He was four there,” Mrs Jung says looking at the photo.

“He got scared of the camera flash,” Mr Jung says, “he almost ran off the set.”

The three of them laugh blissfully as they recall shared memories. “The photographer brought out a toy to try make him laugh but he was scared of that too!” Dawon adds, she laughs while clapping her hands, “Hoseok just cried more!”

Soon enough I find myself laughing along with them. Their happiness is contagious. Hoseok appears soon after and snatches the photo away from me, complaining about how embarrassing his family were.

“Aw Hoseok!” we all tease.

He gapes in disbelief and points at his family, “What did you tell Ahri?” he says accusingly.

‘This trip is going to be eventful,’ I think as I grin knowingly at him.

We spent that day mostly inside and around the neighbourhood with Hoseok’s family—except for the lunch, which we had with just his sister and some of their friends. Later in the day we got to visit the areas Hoseok had pointed out on the way there and even passed by his previous schools that were nearby. Worried that I wasn’t enjoying this, Hoseok’s parents had promised to leave us two alone once we returned to their house.

I wave my hand hastily, “I’m really enjoying this!” I insist. “Hoseok won’t tell me about his embarrassing childhood stories…” I turn to Hoseok and he’s already giving me an unamused look.   

We’re making our way back to the house after having dinner out at a restaurant they frequented. The roads are dimmer now but not completely dark. It must have rained while we were eating because the pavement is wet and the plants around are dappled in dew.  Five pairs of feet shuffle across the ground, avoiding puddles and kicking dirty water on their calves and shins. I’ve never been particularly good at this and can feel the mud speckling the back of my legs.

Mrs Jung smiles and hands me a handkerchief. They all stop as I clean off my legs.  I look up at them with an embarrassed smile but they just wait patiently and assure me they need a break from walking anyway. They chuckle, complimenting Hoseok for his girlfriend’s for ‘child-like charm’ despite her ‘calm and mature,’ image. I blush when they mention my stage concepts are quite the contrary to my actual personality. Hoseok then scolds them for being so nosy and researching me.

They all have a way of worrying about others because of how considerate they are. They also have a way of making people feel comfortable and lifted—‘no wonder Hoseok is Hoseok’ is all I can think as I wipe off the remaining mud.

Once we arrive back at the house, everyone wanders into their own rooms. Dawon helped me set up a mattress after I had declined taking her bed. Afterwards she suggested I check up on Hoseok, jokingly adding that he was probably lonely.

“His room is just next door,” she says. She points at the wall, “Sometimes I can hear him snore and sleep talk.”

I laugh. I can’t help but think how adorable she is despite being over five years older than I. I excuse myself, shuffle around the mattress laid out on the ground, then out of the room.

“Come in,” Hoseok calls out before I even knock. I hesitantly open the door.

He’s crouched in front of the television in his room, trying to untangle wires. He’s dressed into a loose tank top and shorts. “The walls are thin,” he explains after mocking my confused expression, “and I don’t snore or sleep talk.”

“Sure,” I grin.

He rolls his eyes and pulls out a Wii controller. “I thought they hadn’t touched my room but they replaced my PlayStation,” he grumbles. They probably changed the television too since it’s much more modern than the one I imagine he had before, but he doesn’t complain about that. He finds another controller and hands it to me.

I my head but take it without question. I note it’s the same one as the one at their dorm.

Hoseok then turns back to rummaging around the foot of the television cabinet. “Let’s see what games we have,” he mumbles, mostly to himself.

He turns on the TV and presses several buttons on the remote until the opening screen to Mario Karts is on.

I laugh, my shoulder slouching into a sigh. Hoseok grins confidently as he takes his spot next to me.

“Are you ready to lose again?” I ridicule, smugly scrunching my nose.

Hoseok snorts and tilts his head back to look even further down at me. “It hurts my neck to look down at you,” he scoffs. “And you cheated last time!” he adds in a shrill childish tone.

I roll my eyes, “Believe what you want.”

After choosing our characters—which consisted mostly of arguing about who would get who but not wanting the same character—we squint our eyes at our competition and grip our controllers, readying ourselves for a very intense and very epic game of Mario Karts.

We both scream as soon as the race starts. Hoseok’s family came to check if we were okay at some point but were ignored as we yelled our way into the second lap—as usual I’m ahead.

“You’re cheating! You’re cheating! You’re cheating!” Hoseok blurts non-stop as I prevented him from overtaking me.  

I laughed, too concentrated to think of a comeback. I furrowed my brows, grinning as I zip into my last lap. Hoseok begins to wave a hand in front of my eyes. We go into our own real life race of hopping side to side—trying to get into each other’s view.

Midway through the lap Hoseok suddenly comes up from behind me and hugs my waist. I squeal as he swings me to and fro, his chest pressing me down and preventing me from standing up straight. I attempt to struggle free when his character runs into the grass and he loosens his guard.

“No you don’t!” he laughs. He squeezes his arms over mine then over my shoulders and shuffles around so that my face is in his armpit.

“Gross!” I squeal as he presses my face deeper into his armpit. “Hoseok!!” I shriek, tapping madly at his upper arm and sides. I find his face and begin rubbing it between my palms.

“Hey!” he laughs, muffled against my hands. He kisses my palms and threatens to bit my fingers until I stop.

I giggle as he frees me from his armpit and wraps me tightly in his embrace—not romantically but competitively. He wraps his arms tightly around my arms so that I can’t move my controller properly. He playfully kisses the top of my head, back of my neck and shoulders while I struggle to concentrate on winning. All the while we scream and throw insults at each other, attempting to put the other one off.

“You cheated!” I whine when his character crosses the line first.

“What?” he says, pretending to look offended. He throws his arms up, “So the winner is always the cheater?”

I stomp my foot and shake my head furiously. “I won fair and square last time!” I insist.

Hoseok laughs and stares at me for a moment in amusement until finally giving in. He opens his arms and, when I refuse to forgive him, hugs me again. He kisses the top of my head.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, “you win,” he says reluctantly.

I look up at him, “Say it like you mean it!”

Hoseok sighs and squeezes my face between his hands. “You’re just too cute when you’re on a tantrum!” he says teasingly before pecking the tip of my nose.

I roll my eyes. “I hate you,” I mumble between his hands.

He chuckles and finally releases my face. He ruffles my hair, “I know.”

By the time we clean the equipment and the stuff around us that were mercilessly toppled over or kicked during our—I repeat—very intense and very epic game of Mario Karts, it’s close to midnight.

“We have a long trip back tomorrow,” Hoseok says as he takes a seat on his bed. “So get some rest and wake up early,” he instructs with a pretentiously strict expression and tone.

I feel slightly guilty he couldn’t spend more time with his family because of me but, too tired to argue, I just nod. I take a few steps towards his as he gently tugs on my arms. He looks up at me with hazy eyes, as if I am so much more than what I am. I don’t have to bend far to reach his lips. He kisses me softly and murmurs a goodnight.

He walks me to the door of my room as if it were necessary. He leans over the doorframe and attempts to sneak in one last kiss.

I chuckle softly, careful not to wake anyone. “Goodnight Hoseok,” I say with a finger on his lips.

He rolls his eyes and stealthily pecks my cheek. “Night,” he grins slyly before I close the door.

The next morning we all have breakfast together before Hoseok and I have to return to Seoul. It was a short and sweet vacation.

A memory I’ll always remember—

Even if Hoseok does not.

A/N: 110 subscribers!!! WOOOOOOOW!!! :') this is just my little thankyou! (sorry *counotsorrygh* about the last line)

3400+ words... that's longer than the essay due yesterday.