“Mom, what are star chasers?”

It was a question I asked my mother when I was no more than ten years old. She replied to me, with the kind smile she always had engraved on her face: “They are people who chase stars.”

“Doesn’t anyone chase the moon? I like the moon better, it’s prettier.”

“Earthlings don’t chase the moon, Tae, the moon chases us.”

“What about the sun? It’s a star too, isn’t it?”

“Yes, there are people who chase the sun; but, if you do that, Tae, you’ll end up running in circles. That’s just… sad.”

“But, running in circles means you’ll never meet a dead end, right?”

I smiled widely, and my mom’s eyes widened just as much, before she smiled again. That time, it was more strenuous than the genuine one she wore. It was as if she was smiling with immense sadness.

“Do you like the sun, Tae?”

“Yes, it’s very bright! I love how it shines!”

I said with a ten year old boy’s enthusiasm.

“Then maybe, you’ll find your sun one day.”

I kept on smiling, resting my eyes by closing. I was originally sitting on my mother’s lap, staring up at the starry sky from the balcony, as my mom slowly rocked back and forth in her rocking chair.

The wave of sleep that rushed over me prevented me from deciphering her last sentence immediately: “But I doubt you’ll ever catch it.”

…

“Tae-Tae, get up. We’re running late, man!”

Jimin yelled as he dropped the bucket of cold water right on my head.

“What the ?”

I sat up, completely soaked. Enraged, I demanded an answer again:

“What the are you doing? I washed these sheets just yesterday.”

“Worry 'bout those damn sheets later man, it’s just water, not .”

Jimin rolled his eyes and dragged me from my bed. Somewhat compelled to do so, I ran to the bathroom and quickly brushed my teeth. Not bothering to shower, I threw some random clothes from the closet and ran out, knowing exactly what I was late for.

It was a coincidence that Jimin’s class and my class started at the exact same time, given that I had taken up psychology aside from my usual dance and singing classes. Jimin had been studying contemporary dancing in the same university, and had some vocal training classes as well. He made a good alarm clock, as long as my sheets were untouched by wet substance that wasn’t (thankfully).

Psychology classes were uneventful. One of those things that made you wonder why you took it up in the first place, but the thing was, I knew exactly why I took it up. I took it up because I always wanted to find out about people and their intricate thought processing. It was something that a few fat books couldn’t teach me, but it was interesting nonetheless, as long as I didn’t have to stare at some old man’s face for hours.

Fortunately, it was one of those days where I could stare at white papers with black letters instead of faces, yes; quiz days. I was probably the only person who preferred quizzes over listening to lectures, but well, I had accepted that I wasn’t normal a long time ago.

Star chasers, huh?

I wonder what I understood about it at that age. How was I supposed to chase stars?

Keeping on running in one direction until I finally met a dead end?  

At that age, literary meanings were the only things I could process. Chasing suns seemed more reasonable, it was brighter, and I wouldn’t lose my way because of the dark. I didn’t know how that would be me ending up running in circles. If mom meant gravitational force, then it would apply to every damn star possible.

It took me years to realize that it was nothing but a simple analogy. Stars, even though they were the same as the sun, was something that people thought analogous to goals and dreams. That was why shooting stars were supposed to grant wishes when it couldn’t do .

They were too far away for us to feel the heat, too far away to blind us, too far away to burn us. They were unreachable. Once you set for the star, you’d keep on running. You’d eventually meet a dead end. And that would be your stop. Wherever you stopped, you would find what you needed. Not necessarily what you wanted.

The sun was much closer. Unreachable, but you could savor parts of the golden globe. You could savor the warmth, the light, and even suffer the impacts. That was why people used it as an analogy for self-destruction.

The earth rotated around the sun, being benefitted by the sun, impacted by the sun, spun around by the sun. Yet it never reached the sun. That was why my mother said that I could never catch the sun.

Well, I said analogies.

I wouldn’t chase stars and settle for some stupid streetlight wherever I stopped.

I would chase the sun.

There were plenty of stars around.

But only one sun.

I would chase that sun.

And like I said, analogies.

I wouldn’t be like Icarus.

I would be the first ever person to catch the sun.

Even if it burnt me to ashes. I didn’t give a .

And apparently, the exam hall wasn’t the best place to make resolutions as important as that.

…

Jimin showed me the last move for the nth time that day. My mind was elsewhere, it was obvious, but I knew that it was still irritating when a move as simple as that one had to be shown three thousand and fifty times. He raised his hand well above his head, softly dropped it to his side only to jump up suddenly, spinning in the air and landing gracefully.

Even though he was supposed to be doing contemporary dance, he always mixed it with street style, making it more eye catching. It was a habit he picked up from frequenting the underground, where one of his Hyungs rapped. Namjoon, if I recalled correctly. Or was it Yoongi?

Well, that wasn’t really important. I guessed that during the second I took to comprehend who was his Hyung and who was his Hyung’s friend, I spaced out again, and the aggravated look Jimin was giving me ascertained it.

“You know, I can’t really keep up with your visits to space.”

Jimin said, a goofy smile on his face to match his lame attempt to be funny.

The joke was obviously meant to impress someone, an underclassman Jimin treated like a younger brother. However, because of the lame joke, I doubted that sassy guy had any newfound respect for him. The joke definitely had an effect on someone; consolation to Jimin, since a girl who seemed to have been interested in Jimin for some time broke into giggles.

Jimin looked at her through the corner of his eyes and smiled triumphantly, and Jung Kook, the so called younger brother, said through his somewhat rising jealousy and gritted teeth (Damn, how did he even talk?): “Little girls are the only ones who laugh at your jokes, Hyung.”

“At least someone does, eh Kookie?”

He smiled mischievously, making Jung Kook turn an incomprehensible shade of crimson. Didn’t think much of it, really, because the only time Jimin got some respect from the younger was when he needed ‘love advice’. I called it guidance for the easiest way to get in her pants, even though Jimin denied having taught innocent Jung Kook such things. 

I sighed and slung my backpack over my shoulder, and said: “I don’t feel well, I’ll see you later.”

“Really? Too bad, J-Hope is coming. He wanted to meet us all.”

“J-Who?” I asked.

“Hope. That’s the name he goes by underground. He’s Hyung’s classmate, and somehow related to Yoongi Hyung too, I dunno much.”

Jung Kook chimed in: “He’s like the coolest person alive, like, his dance moves can make any chick drool.”

“Since when were you a chick, then?” Jimin pointed out, tapping his thumb over the corner of his lips.

Embarrassed, Jung Kook at once wiped the drool he produced by talking too enthusiastically and too much at once, even though Jimin insisted otherwise.

“Say ‘Hi’ and ‘I’m sorry’ in my stead.”

I turned to leave, when a rather attractive voice said: “Why are you sorry?”

He inclined his head to the right, his skin glowing under the permeating sunlight. “Umm… I was just going to leave.”

He widened his eyes, and somehow, the brightness on his face dimmed a little.

“But I guess I could stay around for some time.”

I threw the backpack somewhere and it landed beside one of the mirrors, thankfully I hadn’t thrown too hard at my inner nervousness, if the pulse quickening was any clue. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see Jimin smile like a maniac and Jung Kook raise an eyebrow at me, but my friends were the last thing on my mind as he flashed me a smile rivaling the brightness of the sun.

Little did I know then, it was at that time I started chasing the sun.

…

When I realized I had been chasing something, a sun at that, was a fact I needed a while to figure out. I guessed it was then, when my unbelievably large crush on him rolled into something much more.

He helped us practice our dance routines for quite some time. Over that time, my crush on him started to develope. 

When Jimin asked, trying to squeeze out some information for my sake (Trying to be productive but failed), he simply stated that the studio was nice. And from the not too exaggerated expression on his face, I knew that it was the damn truth.

Jimin’s attempts at trying to get us together didn’t stop there. He would often occupy J-Hope’s time so it would be late by the time J-Hope would start teaching me separate routines, and he would somehow manage to net some of the girls into going to dinner with him and a few of his friends, so we always had the studio to ourselves.

I would always try to get the moves wrong even if I could get it right, so that I would be allowed to step back and make space for him to show me his dance. His dancing was one of the most attractive things about him, coming second to only his whole profile.

I would love the way he would shift the center of gravity from his left leg to right, inclining his shoulders back, revolving his upper body around an invisible center in a slow rhythm that mesmerized me. I wouldn’t even realize I was following him until he pointed it out on the mirrors' reflections, smiling a toothy grin.

Since when my gaze started getting bolder I didn’t know. I would often find myself wonder not so innocent things as I watched him dance. Like how the thin layer of fabric’s disappearance would affect his dance’s focal points, or the suddenly gained transparency from sweaty skin and sometimes even the slightest slips of clothes and oscillation of hips.

I didn’t know for how long it was like that, me throwing somewhat predatory glances at him, until he pointed that out as well. After doing a bunch of intricate moves, he spun around, and with the same toothy grin he asked, but in a surprisingly husky voice: “Checking me out, huh?”

Like a criminal caught in his misdeeds, I stuttered. “Huh, no!”

He used that same tone from earlier: “Liar-liar, pants’ on fire.”

There was something about his eyes that kept me backing up as he kept inching forward. “Since there are no fire extinguishers, we’ll just have to…”

One index finger running down my neck and lower until it reached my belt.

“Take it off?”

He cocked his head to the right, allowing the slightly smaller frame to look at me fully in the eyes, expectantly. Gulping down once, I found myself helplessly nodding at him. He broke into that same toothy grin.

“I’ll try to make it even better than my dancing, since you like it so much.”

Would I have savored that provocative tone if I knew those would be the last coherent words he would say to me before disappearing?

…

“That’s the third cigarette you just smoked.” Jimin reminded me, as if I had forgotten.

I liked smoking; it was a weird process, really. It clouded my mind and at the same time, kept me distracted. When did I even pick up such a weird- habit? Right, two years ago. I sighed, exhaling the smoke along with it.

Jimin stared at me for a while, poking holes in my forehead, before I finally conceded and dropped the rest of the cigarette, still about nine CMs left, in the ashtray. I made as if to get up, and just as I did so, Jimin grasped my arm: “You are not going back there.”

“Where?” I asked innocently, as if I didn’t know where I intended to go in the first place.

“Tae, it’s been two years. He’s an and obviously he got what he wanted from you, so just let it the go.” Jimin groaned, rubbing his temple.

I wasn’t at a loss for words in the sense of being shocked, but I just simply had nothing to say to Jimin anymore. What was I going to convince him of? That I was unable to let go of something I never even had? He was right. It had been two years. I should’ve just forgotten the whole thing ever even happened. After all, to a twenty two year old, what was one or two casual lays?

I bit back the sarcasm pointed towards myself. Yeah, a casual lay with someone you were hopelessly in love with.

Jimin threw me an exasperated look and pleaded: “Look man, I’m tired of living with a zombie. Let’s go meet some girls… hell, if you’re homo, I can even call up some of my buddies or their friends…”

I smiled: “Thanks, Chim Chim. But it’s fine.”

I walked away and headed to the same venue I had been frequenting for God knew how long.

The underground was a nice place if you knew how to derive enjoyment from there. Loudspeakers booming at a dangerous volume, flashing lights and hectic crowd- it wasn’t really my scene at the beginning. However, soon enough I found myself enjoying the place more than anything else. I didn’t know what made it better, the expectance building up inside of me or the fact that Hip Hop was a genre I enjoyed boundlessly.

It wasn’t easy, the last two years. Going there on every chance and news I would get, trying to approach that someone with a heart shaped grin, failing more often than not. I didn’t know what I expected of someone who just hit it and ran to never return again, but that didn’t make every kiss or hug or even more intimate moments with someone else any easier to take.

And I didn’t trust myself to speak with a clear enough voice as he kissed away at some random girl’s neck or kept ruffling the hair of some guy while nuzzling his cheek.

However, I did interrupt many times. His partner would probably lash out on me, doing all the work for J-Hope. If they didn’t, they would probably just drag J-Hope away. If not, they would increase the intensity of whatever they were doing, a clear indication of ‘go away’.

I didn’t usually ‘go away’, but more often than not, my worried friends would accompany me, shooting two birds with one stone. They would have a good time here; they could protect me in case something happened. Of course, half the time I thought it was J-Hope who probably would need protection. I did not imply any double meaning, even though that probably was true, considering the people he always had around. If I didn't stir, my friends would drag me away.

There were many times, not really rare, that I would find him alone or unoccupied. Those were actually worse. He would downright ask: “Who are you again?”

When I introduced myself, he would chuckle: “Oh, that kid from the dance class who always got the moves wrong, right?”

My insecurity about my dance was apparent to him. I wondered if I was a masochist, glad that he at least knew that much about me.

I would pester him further, and he would wave me away, or sometimes even curse at me. I didn’t know why I was so hell bent on getting him, but I somehow was. I didn’t even try to justify myself anymore. I had given up on any sense of rationality the moment I set my goal on him.

I guessed that my mom knew it was going to happen when I was just a kid. Each time I would return back home to Daegu despondent, she would murmur sadly, and continue with her work. When we would be stargazing, she would ask: “How’s the sun?”

“He’s well.”

“I’m glad.”

And that was all we spoke about. We kept stargazing in reticence after that brief exchange.

Two years.

About twenty four confrontations.

Twenty four times of rejection.

Eight times of seeing him with different people.

Six times being dragged away by my friends.

Four times of being waved away by his.

Three times of being ignored and left behind.

Two times dragged away by security.

And one time ending up with a broken arm and black eye.

That was why I was sitting at the hospital. I had insisted he gave me a chance that day, and he simply walked out on me. One of his friends approached me, and slung an arm around my shoulder. I instinctively flinched away, but something about him seemed calming.

“Look, you’re making this hard for him. Do you know how much pain it causes him to push you away like this?”

“Why does he feel the need to push me away, then?”

“Why do you feel the need to chase him, then?”

I didn’t reply. He sighed: “Look, kid. It’s been two years, give up.”

“I won’t.”

He rubbed his temple, and another guy put his hand on his shoulder. “Jin, leave him be.”

“Well, he’s just hurting them both…”

My pulse quickened with anticipation. Was I right after all?

“Hurting? When have I done anything to hurt him?”

The other guy with the blonde hair and emotionless countenance raised an eyebrow: “Dense as , you are.”

He sighed, and said: “Gimme your number.”
“Why?”

“Gonna send you his address.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re not very picturesque to me that I’d wanna see your face every ing time we have a performance.”

Not minding the insult, I gladly took the address he gave me, and set out for the place at once.

It was a secluded area, and at night it seemed rather eerie. Hope was just going home, and I guessed that it was rather stalkerish of me to follow him, but I did and made a resolved to confront him again, more vehemently. I quickened my pace to match his, until I felt cold hands grab me.

“Kid, watch where you’re going.”

I didn’t even realize that I had accidentally brushed against someone on my way, and now that person and his gang was surrounding me. Before I knew, there were countless apologies and several punches and blurred vision. When I woke up, though, it was all white.

“Stalking people isn’t a good thing.”

I looked to my right to see Hope sitting, a bouquet of flower on his right hand. I simply smiled, not being able to comprehend anything but the ethereal glow he was emitting. That guy who gave me the address already ascertained what I had always thought. There was a reason people chased the sun. Even if it was a total ball of fire and ruthless, it was made of warmth. And I knew that when I fell for Hope.

I knew that his superficial acting and countless defenses were nothing but a camouflage to keep him away from me. The sun was aware of his capability of burning, and that was why he decided to keep things at a safe distance from him. Especially earthlings.

“Jung Hoseok.”

“What did I do to deserve that?”  I asked.

“Twenty four visits?”

I smiled again. Hoping it was enough of an answer.

“Why’re you so smitten with me?” Hoseok asked. “I’m nothing special.”

“You sound like some romantic movie heroine.”

“Come on, man, twenty four times you came to see me even though I was acting like a total , you gotta be crazy or you wanna eat my soul.”

“I’m not crazy… I’m just chasing the sun.”

He raised an eyebrow: “Supposed to be an analogy? Comparing me to the sun?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Look, Taehyung…”

“So you do remember me.”

“Yeah, how could I not? You’re probably the only one who made me totally get drunk in the moment, I guess? Damn, I shouldn't have done that to you.”

“Drunk in the moment is not all there was, is it?”

“Don’t press it.” He scoffed, before nervously continuing:

“Look, Taehyung… I don’t know what you see when you look at me, but I have countless insecurities. I… don’t think that I’ll ever be fully trustful of you or whether I could be faithful…”

“Don’t care.”

I stopped him.

“I have nothing to offer.”

“There's nothing I want.”

“My job is unstable…”

“My family is solvent and I work.”

He sighed: “You won’t listen to me, would you, kid?”

“Nope.”

He sighed and chuckled, before reaching out to grab my hand.

...

Chasing the sun was hard, but I knew it then, you could never catch it. It would always maintain a distance from you; it would be scared of burning you. Yet, it’d be near, radiating warmth and lightening up your day.

You’d see it from different sides and angles; you’d revolve around it- you’d keep running in circles. That was okay, really. A circle didn’t have a dead end; you could chase eternally, love eternally.

And before you knew it, your orbit would be the greatest cage ever.

You’d have successfully caught the sun.

Just as I had.