Joonmyun buttons the cuff of his sleeve as his flight number is announced. It glints under the too bright fluorescent lights, the lone diamond gleaming. It was a gift from Chanyeol for his 27th birthday, even though Joonmyun had specifically said that he would not receive any sort of jewelry that year. Chanyeol had insisted that cufflinks were hardly jewelry, saying that they were useful and something that Joonmyun can wear all the time unlike the ostentatious rings or bracelets that Baekhyun always gifts him with.

He sighs as he gets off his seat, making sure that his boarding pass is in his suit jacket pocket, and picks up his laptop bag and briefcase, this time a gift from Taeyeon just last year, when celebrated his sixth year anniversary in the company. Honestly, he really doesn’t have to buy anything for himself. His friends always gift him with things, or maybe that’s why they always do, because he doesn’t bother buying anything for himself.

“Good evening, Mr. Kim.” The flight attendant who takes his boarding pass bows and Joonmyun smiles in response. Her name is Bom; he knows even when he doesn’t look at her nametag. It always so happens that she’s the one on duty whenever he travels from Los Angeles, and he can’t say that he minds the familiarity. Traveling so many places can leave one disoriented.

“Thank you, Bom,” Joonmyun politely greets her with a bow of his own. Her face lights up.

“Enjoy your flight, Mr. Kim,” she says, bowing once more before turning to the next passenger.

Joonmyun looks out of the long glass window of the bridge that leads him to the plane. There are several aircrafts lined up beside the one he’s getting into and he wonders where they are headed to. He shifts the dark glasses he has on, really untimely for this time of day, brushing his blond bangs to one side, and looks ahead. There’s a family of five chattering excitedly, Americans probably going on vacation to Korea. Joonmyun wonders why anyone would want to go on vacation there.

“Mr. Kim,” the welcoming flight attendants, Zhou Mi and Sooyoung sound as if they’re harmonizing as they greet him with matching bows.

“How are you?” Joonmyun says, smiling a little. He’s been traveling even when he hadn’t started working yet. But, even then, he’d always traveled in first class. Zhou Mi and Sooyoung are probably some of the longest staying flight attendants for Korean Air.

“We’re doing well, Mr. Kim,” Sooyoung swiftly responds, her smile pretty. Joonmyun returns it with a bigger smile of his own. “Yoona will assist you to your seat.”

Joonmyun isn’t surprised when he finds the first class cabin empty. For some reason, every time he’s traveled, it’s always been like this. He’s lucky if he has at least one co-passenger, but even so, they never really talk. The sad thing about being in first class is that it’s so spacious, with the seats so far apart, that it doesn’t really open them to even just casual conversation. Each passenger normally keeps to himself. Joonmyun thinks it’s an embodiment of how lonely it can be at the top.

“Zitao will be attending to you shortly, Mr. Kim,” Yoona tells him just as he makes himself comfortable in his seat.

His eyes leave the window as he looks up to her. “Zitao?” he repeats, eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “Jongin isn’t here?” Jongin is usually the one who’s on duty in his long flights from Incheon to LA and back.

“He is not on this flight, sir,” Yoona explains, smile not faltering. She’s very pretty, Joonmyun thinks. She could be an actress if she wanted to be. “But I will send word to him that you were looking for him.”

Joonmyun waves dismissively. “It’s fine,” he says. He can do that himself. He and Jongin have known each other for far too long. “Thank you, Yoona.”

He takes his laptop out. Might as well start on some work. The passengers normally take up to 20 minutes to all get in the plane and get settled. The flight attendants will then check seating alignments and overhead baggage compartments before settling into their seats for take off.

It’ll probably be close to midnight when they take off. Joonmyun is tired but he has so much documentation and managerial resumes to review so that he can immediately prepare for a phone call, and then a video interview when he gets back to Seoul. His brother will also probably want a report, too, of the developments in the LA branches so he should really get right to it.

He checks his emails on his smartphone as his laptop boots up. There are several from the office back in Seoul, two from his mother, and one from Taeyeon, telling him to call him the second that he’s free.

The seat is comfortable and warm when he leans back to it as he presses his phone to his ear, stretching his legs. It’s cozy enough to make him fall asleep, which he wishes he could.

“Joonmyun!” Taeyeon’s voice is full of excitement and laughter.

“What is so important that I need to call you immediately?” Joonmyun teases. He enters his laptop password, which then loads his desktop. He grins at the wallpaper of him, Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Taeyeon laughing at the camera. Chanyeol’s graduation cap is covering half of his face from where Baekhyun had jumped on his back, Taeyeon’s hair is flying because of the wind and only half of Joonmyun’s face is seen because he was the one taking the photo.

“Did you get me something from LA?” Taeyeon asks, giggling. It makes him close his eyes, his lips curled up contentedly. “Yah—“

“Hey Joonmyun!” It’s now Baekhyun on the phone. “I told Taeyeon not to make you call because you’re probably really tired and—”

“What is it?” Joonmyun straightens up in his seat. There’s exciting news lingering on their lips, he can tell.

He, Baekhyun, Taeyeon and Chanyeol had all grown up together due their parents being friends. That, and because they really didn’t have anyone else who understood what life was like having a family name that people talked about it their household. But Baekhyun and Taeyeon had definitely been closer, especially when they reached college. He and Chanyeol always teased them to no end that they would end up married, even with all their bickering. Still, it wasn’t until they were a year after they graduated that Chanyeol caught them making out in his backyard during a party.

“Are you sure you want to find out like this? But then again, we’re not even sure when we’ll see you when you get back—if we’ll see you,” Baekhyun says and there’s apprehension there. “I mean—“

“Chanyeol doesn’t even know yet,” Taeyeon says, her voice clearer once more.

“Are you two—“ Joonmyun starts.

“We’re engaged!” Taeyeon practically screams into his ear but Joonmyun can’t help but let out a happy noise of surprise. “Just now! Baekhyun’s proposal was completely ridiculous (“Hey!” Baekhyun whines in the background.), but I said yes!” Her laughter is loud and unreserved, which just tells Joonmyun how happy she is because she’s been waiting for this for so long.

“I’m definitely going to come see you two when I get back,” Joonmyun tells them after he’s said his congratulations. “Count on it. Now go and tell Chanyeol. He’ll probably be put out that he’s the last to know.”

“See you when you get back, Joonmyun,” Baekhyun says.

Joonmyun stares at his phone long after Baekhyun had ended the call. It’s been a long time coming, Baekhyun proposing to Taeyeon. It had only been a year into their relationship when Baekhyun had already consulted him on how to propose and what ring to get. But then Taeyeon started getting sent to Europe for her job and Baekhyun kept putting it off.

“You don’t look too happy for someone whose friends have gotten engaged.”

Joonmyun looks up, the movement swift and sharp. He takes off his sunglasses and his eyes take in a tall figure, slender but built, with ashy colored hair, small but piercing eyes and a pretty pink mouth.

“Did you just listen to my phone call?” he asks, one perfectly groomed eyebrow arching upwards.

“I’m sorry,” the flight attendant says, looking chastised. “I didn’t mean to. I just came to remind you to turn your phone off.” He bows 90 degrees and stays that way for several seconds.

Joonmyun waits, wondering how long it would take for him before he gets back up. He’s used to this kind of deference, even back when he still hadn’t earned it and it was all because of the name that he carried.

“Please get up. That’s not really necessary,” Joonmyun says, folding his glasses and putting them on the space beside his laptop. He clasps his hands together on his lap as he watches the flight attendant straighten up his uniform.

“I really am sorry,” the flight attendant repeats, his gaze cast downwards. Both his hands are on his sides, fingers twitching every now and then like he wants to reach out to show just how sorry he is.

“You must be Zitao,” Joonmyun says instead. He looks surprised that Joonmyun knows his name. “It’s Jongin who’s normally on duty whenever I fly home.” He raises an eyebrow when Zitao plays with his hands, looking like he wants to say something but is wondering if he could.

“He… he mentioned you,” Zitao tells him. “He told me that Mr. Kim would probably be on this flight, in the first class cabin and that I should…” Joonmyun leans back on his seat and waits. “…take care of you.”

Sudden laughter bubbles out of Joonmyun’s mouth. For someone who is so quiet and can look so cold, Jongin is very sweet. He doesn’t remember the number of times that he’s told Jongin that Joonmyun should be the one taking care of Jongin instead because Jongin’s younger.

“Did he?” Joonmyun says, wiping at the corners of his eyes. Zitao is looking at him with bright eyes, blinking, his mouth slightly open. “Well then,” he continues, bowing at him. “Please do take care of me, Zitao.”

A sudden pink suffuses Zitao’s cheeks, much to Joonmyun’s pleasure. Like this, Zitao looks almost like a puppy needing to be petted and cuddled.

Zitao bows his agreement and excuses himself when he’s made sure that Joonmyun has closed his laptop and has secured all his belongings in time for take off. Joonmyun smiles at the space Zitao left and turns to the window.










The first time Joonmyun went on a plane, he was five years old. He and his family had gone to Japan to celebrate his older brother’s birthday. He doesn’t remember much about it, except that everyone kept on telling him how hard he cried when Mickey Mouse wanted to hug him when they went to Disneyland.

But there is one travel that stuck to Joonmyun’s memory the most. When he was 12 years old, his parents opened their first hotel in London. To be able to capture to goodwill of people, they did a number of CSR activities after the groundbreaking, like planting trees around the neighborhood and going to orphanages, which he’s not entirely sure is related to putting up a hotel. Either way, it struck him how there are so many people out there who have so much less than what he has and maybe deserves it more than he did. It was the first time that he had that yearning of wanting to do something that wasn’t dictated to him.

“Mr. Kim.”

Zitao is back as soon as the fasten seatbelt sign is turned off, just as Joonmyun has started drafting his report for his brother. He has a menu in his hands, which Joonmyun takes. It’s only then that he realizes that he hasn’t had anything to eat since lunchtime. The meeting that he was in ran so much longer than it should have.

“What would you recommend?” Joonmyun asks after perusing the menu. He watches as Zitao’s eyes widen in surprise ever so slightly.

“Well,” Zitao hesitates as if answering would get him in trouble. Most passengers probably don’t ask the opinion of flight attendants. “I’m partial to chicken.”

“Chicken it is,” Joonmyun agrees with a grin. “I’ll have two of that, as well as a coke and a glass of Chateau Haut Bages Monpelou.”

Zitao takes note of his order, thinking better than to ask why he’s ordered so much, and takes the menu back. “I’ll be back with your order in 15 minutes,” he says.

In the 15 minutes that his food is getting prepared, Joonmyun finishes his report, putting it in his email outbox to be sent as soon as he lands, and moves on to the small stack of resumes for the managerial position for the new hotel in LA that they will open in two months.

When his family’s businesses expanded to the United States, Joonmyun had been the one tasked to oversee it. Tasked isn’t quite the term Joonmyun would prefer; it was more of he was the one expected to handle it. Even when Joonmyun had expressed his desire to do something else, having just graduated at the time. Now it’s been seven years and Joonmyun feels like he can’t do anything else.

The hotel industry is not a bad industry to be in. It’s booming and interesting and quite luxurious. He gets to bump shoulders, shake hands, and deal with people he wouldn’t normally deal with had he not obeyed his parents’ wishes. He thinks it’s the traveling that makes it okay. He gets to leave and run away out of his own volition. But, after a while, all the running away gets really lonely.

The last time he’s spoken to his brother face to face was two weeks ago, and only because they attended the same meeting, his mother three months ago, his father even longer. He hasn’t had a sit down dinner with his friends in over two months, which is probably why Baekhyun and Taeyeon chose to break the news of their engagement to him the way they did. He’s always gone and it’s quite a lonely life.

Zitao comes back with a cart of the food. He serves Joonmyun with ease, mentioning the name of the dish as he takes them out. He first puts down he fresh garden salad with citrus served and Italian dressing, followed by the braised chicken thigh with bulgogi sauce and steamed rice, as well as a cup of fresh fruit, and bread selection. Zitao makes a show of opening Joonmyun’s preferred Chateau Haut Bages Monpelou and pouring it for him, serving that last. He then turns back to the cart, the other set of food still on it.

“Uh, do I serve this when you’re done?” Zitao wants to know.

“Oh,” Joonmyun says, sitting up and poking his chopsticks through the fruit cup. “Serve it here.” He waves to the empty seat to his left.

Zitao does as he’s told, placing the food on the table of the empty seat the way he’s done for Joonmyun. When he’s placed the Coke, he moves back to the cart and starts pushing it back to leave Joonmyun to have his very late dinner in peace.

“Zitao,” Joonmyun asks. “Have you had dinner?”

“I—what, sir?” Zitao asked, accidentally knocking over one of the bottled water off the cart. He bends to pick it up and stares at Joonmyun with the bottle still in his hands.

“I asked if you’ve already had dinner,” Joonmyun repeats. He puts his chopsticks down and gestures to the extra food beside him. “Because there’s plenty for the two of us.”

Zitao looks a mixture of shocked, hesitant and affronted with the way his mouth is slightly open but his back is rigid. “I think it’s inappropriate,” he finally says after some silence. He bows and walks away, leaving the cart behind.

Joonmyun smiles at Zitao’s retreating back before going back to his food. It was worth a try anyway. He just thinks that having meals all alone is too sad. Food is meant to be enjoyed, but how can you enjoy food by yourself? He’s not saying that people shouldn’t ever eat alone; of course it can’t be avoided sometimes. But when you eat by yourself too often, it gets really disheartening after a while.

He turns the television on and scans the list of movies, deciding that he’ll just watch one while he eats. He’s watched more movies on a plane than in actual cinemas. But he is always updated because he flies so much.

Joonmyun has already decided on The Amazing Spider-man 2 when Zitao suddenly plops down beside him. His back is straight, stiff, not touching the backrest, but his hands are placed palm down on his lap.

“Just because I don’t want the food to go to waste,” Zitao says, his voice soft.

Joonmyun doesn’t even look at him for long, just going back to his food, even when a huge smile is trying to break his face. “Okay,” he says, suddenly feeling lighter and happier than he’s been in a while. “Watch Spider-man 2 with me,” he then says, turning his screen on for him and changing the channel to where the movie is.

It takes Zitao a couple more seconds before he starts eating. It’s probably because it really might be inappropriate for a flight attendant to sit with a passenger. He won’t be doing his job that way. But this is what Joonmyun wants. Besides, there isn’t anyone else around.

“Jongin always did this with me,” Joonmyun tells Zitao, who is finally relaxing a bit. At least his back is now resting on the seat. “Sit and eat with me, I mean.”

“Have you and Jongin known each other long, Mr. Kim?” Zitao asks, his voice is still quiet and meek like he’s afraid he’s over stepping his bounds.

“Please,” Joonmyun says, waving his hand, “call me Joonmyun. None of that Mr. Kim stuff.”

“But—“ Zitao contests.

“It’s just us,” Joonmyun insists. “I really don’t need friends to call me Mr. Kim, too.” He pokes at his chicken as Zitao looks at him, a small smile on his face.

“Are we friends then?” Zitao says and there’s a teasing tone there that brings out his Chinese accent. It makes Joonmyun look at him. It’s cute. “Do you make friends so easily?”

“Not really,” Joonmyun says. He was that kid that everyone wanted to hang out with because his family was wealthy and well known. It’s not exactly a good indication of making friends easily. “I’m good at pretending, though.”

Zitao doesn’t say anything to that. Joonmyun thinks that was probably too serious of an answer to someone he’s just met. But he doesn’t mind. Zitao looks like the kind of guy who’s good at listening and someone who doesn’t judge. Joonmyun may be wrong, but he’s always prided himself at being good at reading people.

The movie plays in front of them, both not wearing earphones. Zitao looks interested in the movie, though, if the way he’s forgotten to eat is any hint, so Joonmyun puts one of the earbuds in Zitao’s right ear so he can actually hear what’s happening. Zitao almost chokes on rice, but Joonmyun just encourages him to keep on watching. Joonmyun raises his phone up as if to say that he needs to work anyway, which he does. Joonmyun always needs to work.

There are still emails he hasn’t read from earlier. He goes through them one by one as he slowly finishes his food, leaving the ones from his mother for last, glancing once in a while at the movie.

Joonmyun has just finished eating, leaving the bread untouched, and has just decided that he will continue answering emails later when Zitao jumps and half-screams beside him. Joonmyun’s phone slips slightly from his grasp, but he manages to catch it in time to slip it back into his pocket.

“Sorry,” Zitao says, hands over his mouth. Joonmyun just laughs. “Watch with me,” he then says, surprising Joonmyun when he offers him an ear bud.

Joonmyun takes it because what else is there to do when he wants a break from work on a long flight? Zitao brings him up to speed about what’s happening so well so much so that he gets into it immediately and feels sympathetic for Peter Parker and smiles whenever he and Gwen Stacey are on screen.

Zitao suddenly sighs. “So pretty.”

Joonmyun watches as Gwen Stacey talks to Peter Parker and agrees. “Yes, she is,” he says, nodding.

“I mean,” Zitao says, coughing. “I meant… well… yes.” He chuckles, shifting in his seat to move farther away from Joonmyun.

Joonmyun grins. “Did you mean him?” he asks as Peter Parker comes back on screen.

Zitao blushes so prettily that Joonmyun has to hold his hands together to stop himself from reaching out and pinching Zitao’s cheeks. Jongin allows him to do that, but he’s only met Zitao and he doesn’t want to be rude.

“I think he’s pretty, too,” Joonmyun tells him before Zitao can start explaining himself or maybe asking if that was okay. He doesn’t really see any reason for it not to be okay even if he’s not gay, himself. “Pretty close to an ideal type actually.”

Zitao bursts into laughter. He looks so caught off guard that Joonmyun ends up laughing, too. Laughing like this, Zitao looks so much younger and so much more attractive. Joonmyun likes guys who have beautiful smiles; guys who are kind, sweet, and romantic, too.

“Is that so?” Zitao teases, nudging him a little.

“Except, of course, I don’t want someone who has a double life,” Joonmyun continues, on his lower lip, not noticing Zitao’s eyes following the movement. “I’d like to have him all to myself.”

“Even when he has the capability to save the world?” Zitao presses, moving in his seat so that he’s facing Joonmyun more. “Even when he can make the world a better and safer place?”

“One man can only do so much,” Joonmyun says after thinking about it. “But I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I guess if it really mattered, I would have to, if he really wanted it.” His eyes go back to the movie. “But in his effort to take everything in his own hands to save the people he cares about, he also puts them in danger.”

“You’re confusing,” Zitao says, studying him a little.

“When I’m with someone, I just want us to be together without any complications,” Joonmyun explains bluntly. He presses a button so that his seat extends to a bed. Zitao then gets up to clear their tables, returning everything to the cart. “I wouldn’t want it to be a relationship where we barely see each other.”

They keep quiet for the rest of the movie. At some point, Zitao stands up again to return the cart and to maybe clean the dishes or something, but he comes back to his seat and gets absorbed in it again.

When the part of Spider-man’s futile attempt to save Gwen Stacey’s life comes, Zitao muffles a cry. Zitao seems to have this innocence about him that Joonmyun wishes he still has. It’s that quality of still seeing the world with excitement, still feeling for other people, and not being jaded like Joonmyun believes he already is.

The movie ends and they’re plunged into silence. Somehow it brings Joonmyun back to the reality that there is work to be done. It also makes Zitao realize that he isn’t a passenger and that he is technically breaking rules.

Zitao immediately gets up from his seat, straightening his uniform, before giving Joonmyun a small shy smile. “Thank you,” he says, “for dinner and for the movie.”

Joonmyun nods his acknowledgement, a similar smile on his lips. “You’re welcome. Thank you for your company.”

Zitao waves, quick and uncertain, and then hurries to his station. Joonmyun lies down on the seat-turned-bed and takes his phone out. He reads and answers emails until he falls asleep.










It’s not even 6 o’clock in the morning when Joonmyun stirs from his slumber. He lies on his back and notices that he’s tucked securely under a thick blanket. He frowns at it then closes his eyes as he tries to get himself a few more hours of sleep. His office is still thousands of miles away so he has the luxury of getting more rest, but it’s hard when he’s wired to get up at around 5 o’clock in the morning everyday. It’s even harder when jetlag is involved.

Sighing, he sits up and rubs the sleep away from his eyes. The cabin is still dark when he looks around. He straightens up his seat and stands up to go to the bathroom. He smiles, crooked and weak, at Zitao when he sees him.

When Joonmyun gets back out, Zitao offers him a glass of water. “Everything okay?” Zitao asks.

“Yeah,” Joonmyun croaks. He drinks the water. “You’d think I’d be used to all of this by now.”

Zitao just smiles. “Why don’t you change into these?” he suggests, offering him a pair of comfortable pajamas. “Maybe you can go back to sleep. I can’t imagine your shirt and slacks being comfortable.”

Joonmyun glances down at his wrinkled clothing and scrunches his nose up. “No, they’re really not,” he confirms, taking the clothes and making Zitao chuckle. “Thank you.”

When Joonmyun goes back out, he’s wearing the pajamas. He’s never actually changed before, but seeing as it really is just him, he doesn’t think there’s any harm. Besides, it’s better than he get comfortable. He has a lot of work to do.

There’s a platter of cream cheese rolled with roasted zucchini and eggplant, as well as seared tuna slices with some sort of dressing on his table when he gets back. Joonmyun sits down and presses the button for calling for a flight attendant’s assistance.

Zitao arrives in no time.

“Is there something wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing wrong at all,” Joonmyun says, sounding chirpy for someone who was just groggy a minute ago. All of a sudden he feels energetic and excited. “Do you want to share this with me?” He points at the delicious-looking platter and grins at Zitao.

“I don’t know, Mr. Kim—Joonmyun,” Zitao is quick to correct himself when Joonmyun pouts. “I could really lose my job.”

For some reason the first thing that Joonmyun thinks of is how he wishes he could lose his job. But he shakes it off and maintains his grin. “Of course,” he says, giving Zitao an out. It is true after all. “Thank you for preparing this for me.”

As he eats, he dives into work.










Joonmyun goes to the lounge when he’s done with reports and sorting the resumes. He sits at the bar, now back in his slacks and polo shirt, nursing a glass of orange juice; it’s too early for a drink. There are two other people inside, a lady and guy flirting with each other; that American guy from the family of five he’d been walking behind earlier. The lady is not his wife.

His mind goes back to Baekhyun and Taeyeon’s news, and he wonders if Chanyeol already knows and how he’s taking it. Chanyeol had probably squealed like a baby seal when he’s been told, clapping incessantly and jumping around. And then he would have probably called Kyungsoo, his boyfriend of five years, and tell him all about it. They’ve probably all gotten together and discussed it in full detail with Kyungsoo’s cooking.

It’s not as if he’s alone. Joonmyun knows he has family and friends, who are probably more family to him than his actual family is, knows that he has no reason to feel lonely. But he is. Lonely. Joonmyun feels lonely.

He’s accepted a long time ago that his family isn’t a group of people he can talk to. He can count on them for financial support, but not emotional, not even physical. The last time his mother hugged him was in 1st grade, when he’d gotten a first honor award. After that, the awards became more natural and his mother didn’t see the need for her to hug him. His brother still ruffles his hair sometimes whenever they see each other, but Joonmyun gels his hair up, now, so his brother doesn’t get to sometimes. They used to be closer once upon a time, but then he got married and he became busy with the company and building his family.

Chanyeol getting into a relationship with that really cute but manly guy (Chanyeol’s words) in the 9th floor of his law firm shocked everyone, especially since they had the impression that Kyungsoo was very threatening and liked to hit Chanyeol a lot. But they’re five years into their relationship and that’s something that Joonmyun’s never seen waver even the slightest bit.

Now even Baekhyun and Taeyeon are taking the domestic route.

It seems everyone is falling in love and finding someone, except for Joonmyun.

“Hi.” Zitao, who is surprisingly not in his Korean Air uniform, slides into the stool beside his. “I’m on break for a bit,” he explains, one corner of his lips curling up. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“What, you being on break or you coming over to chat me up?” Joonmyun is rewarded with a hearty laugh from Zitao.

“Both, I guess,” Zitao answers.

“Then no I don’t,” Joonmyun assures him. He raises his glass of orange juice. “Orange juice?”

“Sure,” Zitao says.

“One more orange juice,” Joonmyun tells the bartender, who smirks at both of them but gets right to it. He turns to Zitao. “So… how long have you been a flight attendant?”

“Two months,” Zitao answers. He then launches into the story of how he’d gotten interested in becoming a flight attendant, one that fascinates Joonmyun because all stories told to him always involved numbers and statistics.

“Traveling isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be,” Joonmyun tells him in the nicest way possible when Zitao finishes his story, from which Joonmyun gathered is Zitao wanting to travel the world. “It can lose it’s magic after a while and can get lonely.”

“Thank you for sounding so positive,” Zitao chuckles. He props an elbow on the bar and rests his cheek on his palm.

“I’ve just been traveling so much for so many years now,” Joonmyun explains, hanging his head a bit. “I just want to be able to stay in one place even for just one whole month straight and actually explore. Because even when I travel, all I see are offices and boardrooms. I’ve been to most of Europe and Asia but I’ve never really seen Europe and Asia.”

Zitao suddenly tells Joonmyun about Qingdao, his hometown, and paints the prettiest and most vivid picture of houses by the sea, of their village and of the people. By the end of it, Joonmyun can almost smell the salty air, can even almost taste it.

“Maybe someday I’ll take you there,” Zitao says without thinking. Joonmyun blinks at the surprise of the offer. “It’s a good place to unwind.”

“Maybe someday you should,” Joonmyun agrees and, this time, it’s Zitao’s turn to blink in surprise.

They continue talking — about the places they’ve been to, about Zitao’s experiences as a new flight attendant, about Jongin, as well as about Joonmyun’s job. They even touch on family and their friends. They talk so much that Zitao sits down on the seat beside Joonmyun back in the first class cabin without Joonmyun even having to ask.

“Do you believe in things like soulmates or fate?” Zitao suddenly asks, turning their conversation in an entirely different direction.

Joonmyun thinks about it. He’s not really sure. There was never any reason for him to since his two past boyfriends didn’t really last long. “Do you?” he throws the question back at Zitao.

“I’d like to think that there’s a person meant for each one of us,” Zitao confirms, sounding wistful, his fingertips tracing the buttons on the armrest. “I don’t think anyone is meant to be alone. If they are alone at the moment, it just means that his soulmate hasn’t found him or her yet.”

Joonmyun can’t help but smile at how idealistic and romantic Zitao sounds. Joonmyun thinks he’s a romantic himself, but he’s also not hopeless. He’s stopped entertaining thoughts of grand and fantastic love a long time ago.

“How are you going to know if you’ve met your soulmate, then?” Joonmyun asks. He meets so many people everyday and he doesn’t even stop to really pay attention to each of them. What if he’s accidentally ignored his soulmate?

Zitao shrugs. “They say a kiss says a lot,” he muses, leaning back on the seat and looking up at the ceiling. “Or maybe when you talk to each other and it feels like you’ve known each other forever or maybe when you touch you’ll feel a spark.”

“It sounds like a lot of speculation to me,” Joonmyun tells him, poking Zitao’s muscular arm. “Aren’t there any more concrete signs?” He giggles when Zitao shoots him a look.

“Like I said, a kiss says a lot,” Zitao tells him snappishly. He crosses his arms on his chest and pouts, which Joonmyun finds Zitao does when he feels embarrassed and shy.

“Should we kiss then to find out if we’re soulmates?” Joonmyun means it to be teasing but Zitao blushes so hard that it kind of throws them both off guard. Zitao abruptly stands up. “Zitao, I didn’t mean—“

“Thank you for your time, Joonmyun,” Zitao cuts him off gently before leaving Joonmyun surprised and perplexed with what just happened.










Joonmyun doesn’t really see Zitao right after that incident, aside from that time that he served lunch, and Joonmyun, not wanting to make things worse, doesn’t do anything about it. Although he’s not entirely sure what it is that he did that offended Zitao, Joonmyun just thought that he probably went overboard with the kissing comment.

He goes through the reports he’s written during the flight, as well as double checks his top 10 picks for the new manager. When he’s sure that everything’s in order, he puts his files back in his briefcase and his laptop back in his laptop bag. He also turns his mobile phone off and settles back in his seat and looks out of the window.

All Joonmyun’s wanted to do is to love and be loved. He thought if he’d gotten into medicine it would be enough to show just how much love he has to give. Except his parents didn’t allow it and put him in his proper place. With Joonmyun not being allowed to love the way he wants to, all that’s left is for someone to love him and show him that it’s okay, that he’s doing okay, that he’s fine. But past break-ups and heartaches have taken that away from him. It’s been three years since he’s had a relationship. Joonmyun’s only felt lonelier since then.










The plane has stopped moving and the fasten seatbelt sign has been turned off. Joonmyun could hear the rumble from the prestige class, overheard compartments being opened and people unlinking their seatbelts and standing up. He gets up from his own seat, wears his suit jacket and picks up his bags.

Joonmyun tries to smoothen his tie as he walks to the front, where only first class passengers can pass through. He’s in Incheon; he’s almost home. But, somehow, it doesn’t feel like it. He knows that when he gets out only the chauffeur will be waiting for him.

Zitao is standing by the entrance, posture stiff and handsome in his seriousness. He should have paid more attention to him, Joonmyun thinks, before he wonders if he’s going to catch a flight with Zitao again. Probably. Hopefully. Joonmyun would like to pick up where they left off, or maybe pick up the pieces of his mess. Either way, he would like to see Zitao again. Because Zitao was like a sudden light the midst of a very long and very dark tunnel. He’d like to experience that light again.

“Thank you for you flying with Korean Air, Mr. Kim,” Zitao says, voice rough, so unlike the light and melodic one that he had when they talked and laughed together. “We hope to see you again.”

“I hope to see you again, too, Zitao,” Joonmyun says, meaning it and hoping he conveys it well. “I had a lot of fun.” He smiles and when Zitao doesn’t even look at him, he moves to leave. But then he pauses and turns back. “This is one of the few flights that felt like I wasn’t traveling alone. Thank you for that.”

Joonmyun has one foot off the plane when Zitao calls. “So are you saying that Jongin is bad company?”

Joonmyun laughs and turns around. Zitao has lost the rigidity and is smiling; his lips stretched wide, his eyes dancing.

“Don’t tell him,” Joonmyun mock pleads and Zitao bursts into laughter.

Zitao purposefully strides towards him and grips the lapels of Joonmyun’s suit. Joonmyun swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, which, he also notices, Zitao follows with his eyes.

“I…” Zitao starts, suddenly serious. “I don’t really know how you find out if someone is your soulmate or if that even really exists, but…” He lets go of Joonmyun and takes a step back.

“But…?” Joonmyun presses, moving forward. His heart is pounding in his chest. It’s been some time since he’s felt like this. In fact, it’s been a very, very long time.

“I’m willing to find out if you are,” Zitao finishes. He lifts his eyes and looks straight into Joonmyun’s, daring him to laugh at his face or refute it.

Joonmyun does the best and maybe the bravest thing he could think of and kisses Zitao right on the lips. He clutches the front of Zitao’s uniform when Zitao moves his lips against his. They say you’ll know when someone is your soulmate when you kiss them, but all Joonmyun can think of in his mushy brain is how nice it is to kiss Zitao.

When they pull away, Zitao’s lips and cheeks are both red. But there isn’t a sign of regret there. Joonmyun smiles as he smoothens down Zitao’s uniform and steps back.

“I don’t think that answers our question,” Joonmyun says. “Maybe one kiss isn’t enough.” He presses his card to Zitao’s hand. “Come find me.”

Joonmyun doesn’t even wait for Zitao’s response. The smile on Zitao’s face is enough of an answer for him.

When he gets out to the arrivals area, Joonmyun is surprised to find himself suddenly enveloped in a Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Taeyeon sandwich. Kyungsoo stands at the side, looking bored.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun grab a bag each and flank Joonmyun, while Taeyeon clings to Baekhyun’s arm and Kyungsoo walks beside Chanyeol.

“How was your flight?” Taeyeon asks.

Joonmyun smiles. He thinks of Zitao and their conversations and smiles.

“Good. Really, really good,” is his answer.