This is the story of Do Kyungsoo.

Do Kyungsoo was a man of few words but many feelings. Those who knew him would describe him as gentle and generous (and maybe a bit grumpy), but he never thought of himself like that.

He was a rather short man in his early thirties, with a small but kind smile and a bit of trouble with making eye contact. His hands were nearly always covered in some sort of dirt and he had soft, midnight black hair. It fell over his forehead whenever he bent down to pick up whatever small animal was currently yipping by his legs.

He owned a small piece of land at the edge of Goyang’s rural centre. It was both his home and his workplace, for Kyungsoo ran a shelter for domesticated animals in the barn next to his house. It wasn’t all that big, the barn more closely resembling an overgrown, dolled up shack, and pressed up against a tightly compressed two-bedroom cottage. A small plot of grass filled up any gaps behind the residence, while at the front a short driveway lay perpendicular to the road. The road, leading to the suburban neighborhoods of town, ran through one of those semi-industrial areas with a systemless assemblage of small businesses and shops. The kind where one will never see a customer, yet income seems to be earned through inexplicable ways, for the stores never close up or move away.

Kyungsoo didn’t mind that, nor did he mind the lack of neighbours or the quietude. He’d yearned for a proper place to expand his shelter for years, and earned the money for it through hard and diligent work. Though the place was small and lacking in many ways, he found himself content as a napping cat and proud as a peacock in his current circumstances.He did what he loved during the day, and spend his nights with loved ones or comfortably on his own.

Yet...

There was this thought, small but poignant, this thought he’d carried with him through the years. He’d done so without ever acting on it, because he did not know how to, not in the least. This thought he’d only allowed to fully form on certain days, empty ones, melancholic ones, frightening ones, when all the happiness and the life he built suddenly felt insufficient. No matter how warm a puppy felt cradled to his chest, it was not fit to replace the heat of a body next to his own. Nor could the purring of a tabby give the same feeling as a sleepy breath in his ear.

And the content feelings weren’t just insufficient, they were inapplicable, beside the point. He longed for something big. Rather than contentment, he wanted grand feelings, whirlwinds of them, strong enough to sweep him off his feet. He wanted something extraordinary.

Deep down, Kyungsoo was indeed very discontent.

"What was that?" Kyungsoo asks.

He’s standing in the small, sunny kitchen. Morning light shines innocently through the rounded windows. The wooden furniture remains motionless. The white walls are mum. Nothing unusual is to be detected.

"Who just said, ‘Deep down, Kyungsoo was indeed very discontent?’" Kyungsoo asks again, his voice piercing the quiet air.

Nothing comes back in return.

The little puppy he’d been feeding yipps impatiently at his feet.


--


Kyungsoo puts down the final rabbit after finishing his health inspection. The dogs behind him shuffle around restlessly, energized after a full night’s sleep and a hearty breakfast. They want out.

Kyungsoo stares ahead absent-mindedly as he unlocks the coop, and his hands remain hanging in the air aimlessly when he’s done. He twitches backwards as the gate boops his forehead, the fluffy children pushing it open further as they rush out.

Rubbing his head, Kyungsoo’s eyes refocus themselves on their retreating, waggy tails for a second. They run to the fenced grass plot, eager to romp around a bit and do their morning business.

Kyungsoo stands there, hand still on the open gate and bangs falling into his dulled eyes.

"Discontent..." he mutters.

He stares down at his hands, wiping them clean with a handkerchief.

That voice had been completely unfamiliar to him. Where it came from, how it had reached his ears, and why it had said those words was something he couldn’t explain for all he might try. He scowls in bewilderment, muttering incoherencies.

"Where’d it...who would even..must’ve been dreaming still...but then why..."

His frown gets deeper and he stays standing for a good minute before finally turning around. His morning chores are done, and he decides he needs some relaxation. He picks up the oldest, most docile cat, passing the next forty minutes petting it in his arms.


--


By the time Kyungsoo closes the door, it’s midday. In the background, he can faintly hear the excited meows of the five cats on the field. When he gets back, they’ll be just as exhausted as the dogs, who he’d basically had to scoop off the grass and deposit above the water bowl. He smiles faintly.

Button nose peeking out of his scarf, he deeply breathes in the autumn air. He’s out to run some errands: groceries, a trip to the bank and, if he can squeeze it in, a visit to Yifan’s patisserie. He mulls that last point over as he waits at the bus stop; he has to be back in time to clean the litter tray before bringing the cats back in. However, he has a rare need to dump his story on someone.

He hasn’t imagined it. He knows what he’s heard.

Kyungsoo was sitting cross-legged on the street and petting a tabby cat when the bus arrived. He can see how packed it is and sighs. He manages to find a spot anyway and sighs out, resting his forehead on the dirt-stained window. Outside, the autumn leaves are falling.

Kyungsoo had always loved autumn.

Kyungsoo jumps, eyes shooting open above his scarf.

He was a lover of all seasons, perhaps with summer as an exception. Summer chased him out of his comfortable home with its stuffing sunshine, and off to some forlorn beach filled with people enthusiastically stripped of half their clothes-

Kyungsoo stands up from his seat and looks around furiously, and the voice stills. It’s a slightly deep voice, though not as deep as Kyungsoo’s or Chanyeol’s. A slight, husky croak seeps through sometimes, but the sound is clear, smooth. When the voice remains absent Kyungsoo slowly sits down again, eyes still darting from one passenger’s face to another.

He couldn’t help but hold it against the season.

The voice starts up again, and Kyungsoo grips the armrest with both hands, looking around in wonder. It's a young man's voice.

But autumn held a special place in his heart, with its scents filling the air until it nearly became solid. Spicy like gingerbread, crisp like an apple, moist like rainwater and mouldy like dead leaves.

"Hey," Kyungsoo mutters, hoping the buzzing chatter will drown him out. The voice stilled again when he spoke. "Who...-why are you talking about me?"

Taking a few dogs for a walk, he’d feel like he was walking in a seasoned and spiced stew. Even though it was the season where everything withered, autumn was the edible season, he felt.

Kyungsoo jumps again. "Hey!" he yells demandingly. "How do you know I think autumn is edible?" He's standing in the hallway, glaring upwards in frustration.

The voice seems to be done, however, as the sudden silence makes Kyungsoo realize there are many people staring at him. He flusters and shrinks, pressing the stop button clumsily so he can escape the bus, two stops too early.


--


"-Tried this variation the other day, with a hint of lemon zest in it. It was so ing good, you should’ve tasted it, Soo- actually, I can bake you some..."

"Yifan, are you listening to me?"

"Oh , did you hear that! The macarons are ready, Soo! They have to cool but we can eat one now, don’t tell anyone, you know how I say everything tastes best straight out of the oven..."

"Yifan, I’m trying to tell you something important."

"Ah, there they are! Welcome to the world, my gorgeous, colourful children! Have one, come on, have one, it’s perfect..."

"Yifan, I'm being narrated!"

Yifan blinks at him, orange apron askew and a tray of unfinished macarons held in mitten-wrapped hands. "Huh?"

Kyungsoo callously plants his elbows into the pink lace tablecloth as he tosses his hands up. '"Narrated. There's a voice, this male voice, and he's just talking about me."

Yifan slowly comes to sit next to him, macaron tray slipping out of the mitten's grip. They’re the ones Kyungsoo bought him for his birthday, the ones covered in cats wearing tiny chef hats.

"I... c- come again?" Yifan says quietly. Well, quietly for his standards. Yifan’s whispers are louder than Kyungsoo would sound giving a speech to a 100 people.

"I heard it for the first time this morning. It’s a male, younger than me I think, and well, he’s... narrating me. Describing my thoughts and all, like a voice over."

"You mean like in Bridget Jones?" Yifan’s mouth hung open. There was half a macaron in it.

"Yes! Or well, no. It’s not my own voice narrating, it’s this strang-"

Regardless of Kyungsoo’s love for macarons, which were among his favorite pastries-

", there it is again!" Kyungsoo startles, squeezing the life out of the macaron in his hand. Yifan squawks and saves it from his grip.

-he could not help but find himself repulsed at the slimey sight of the one currently residing in his friend’s mouth.

"Can you hear that?" Kyungsoo hisses, eyes boring holes into face. There’s flour on his nose.

"No, what-what’s he saying?" Yifan blinks. He looks wary and empty-headed, like he’s not sure if he agreed with any part of this situation.

In fact, while he was a grade A friend, when it came to basic manners the giant would most likely never acquire anything above a D. Not to mention basic coordination skills-

"Uh." Kyungsoo blushes. "That macarons are my favorite pastries?"

The taller frowns. "Soo, I’m not hearing anything." He stuffs three macarons into his gigantic mouth at the same time, spraying crumbs as he continues: "Are you sure you’re not schizophrenic?" 

"YOU’RE NOT HELPING! AT ALL!"
--


To be fair, Kyungsoo does consider schizophrenia. But everything he and Yifan look up about the disease doesn’t match at all. He doesn’t speak in a robotic on monotonous voice. He doesn’t have reduced motor abilities. He never patches incomprehensible sentences together. He doesn’t think the government is trying to copy his thoughts or that the people on the television are trying to tell him something. He’s never had any psychological problems whatsoever. It just doesn’t add up. Yifan doesn't seem entirely convinced, but decides to run with the theory. It's a lot more useful than saying: 'Go see a shrink,' over and over again, and he's also Kyungsoo's best and oldest friend.

Plus, when he's done questioning Kyungsoo's mental health, Yifan is actually quite helpful. 

"Okay, if we assume you aren't crazy and there really is a voice describing your life- why? What's the purpose of it?" The tall man is leaning over the table intently.

"It's like… I'm part of a story." Kyungsoo murmurs, trying to put his confused feelings into words. "Like I'm a character in a tale someone's creating."

Yifan fires questions at him like compliments at his pastries.

"Is it a movie, a tv show, a book?"

"How would I know?"

"Well, does he describe things like you can't see them or like you can see them on a screen in front of you?"

"...the first."

"Ok, tell me about the voice, it's a male right? What does he sound like? Accent? Age? Fancy language?" Yifan squirts the filling in between the macarons as they talk, and then they proceed to stuff them in their face two at a time.

In the end, they've established that Kyungsoo is most likely the main character in a book written by a male between the disappointingly wide ranging age of 20 to 35 ('Just answer the question: does he sound closer to 40 or to 15?' 'Yifan, how the would I know, I'm used to hearing about four voices on a regular basis'). The book is written in a contemporary, slightly fancy style and has not shown a conclusive premise or plot so far. The genre can't be concluded yet either, and Yifan really hammers on that.

"Really, if we can figure out the genre, we can cross away entire branches of books, and that will lead us to finding the author quicker. If we know you're in a romcom, we can check off the idea of you gaining superpowers in the near future. And we can throw away all the tragedies if we know you're in an apocalypse novel."

"I doubt this guy has the power to unleash the apocalypse just for the sake of his ty main character."

Yifan ignores him. "You should probably write down what he says, it might come in handy."

They agree to both do some research at home and meet up again soon.
--


But in the meantime, it looks like Kyungsoo will just have to accept that there’s now a voice narrating his every day. So far, he is finding that very, very difficult.

Kyungsoo is watching some late night Pororo with his glasses and slippers on, when the narrator starts up on how Kyungsoo had secretly loved the show since his teens, and how he was mildly disappointed that penguins did not make for good domesticated animals. 

Kyungsoo scowls and blushes because of the revealed secrets, and spills his cup of mostly cooled off tea over himself.

He’s grumbling loudly in the kitchen as he stands on tiptoes to try and grab the tissues on the top shelf, when-

Kyungsoo desperately reached for a napkin, but his ample legs were regrettably short-

"I’m not short!" Kyungsoo yells grumpily.

And, with an uncanny resemblance to the penguins he so enjoyed watching, stomped his fist at thin air-

"I do not look like a penguin!" Kyungsoo stomps his fist at thin air.

Which was a rather childish thing to do. The voice spoke smoothly, professionally, but with an undeniable undertone of sadistic glee.

"It’s not! Can it, you stupid voice!"

Another time he’s talking about financial stuff with his part time assistant, Baekhyun. ‘Financial stuff’ is about as good a description as it’s gonna be, because even though Kyungsoo tried very hard, he doesn’t understand the next thing about the mentioned stuff. Baekhyun comes in three times a week for administration, finance and phone answering, because Kyungsoo will gladly pay someone else to do these things if it means he can spend more time petting cats and hand-feeding bunnies.

It’s a shame the only one for hire on such a low salary was Baekhyun though. He’s the horror image of the shrilly, shrieking receptionist. He’s always pestering him with horrible hints at his life and snaps his hyena laughter when Kyungsoo gets red-faced and pissed about it. 

Then there are other times when Baekhyun brings him a cup of tea and insists on chatting with him as he drinks it. The sudden kindness always catches Kyungsoo off guard, and makes stutter and flush every time. He desperately longs to fire Baekhyun when he coos at him or boops his nose.

Kyungsoo doesn't really have an office space in his tiny home, so they're sitting at the dining table that serves as Baekhyun's makeshift work desk. Today, they are discussing whether or not Kyungsoo can afford a small chicken coop because he’s been seeing so many stray chicken in the suburbs. Inbetween convincing him that’s a horrible idea because ‘you need to take in pets you can actually sell again and who in their right mind adopts a chicken,’ Baekhyun has been spending the last twenty minutes trying to communicate through toe-curling euphemisms that his boyfriend went down on him yesterday.

Sometimes...

Kyungsoo nearly chokes on his coffee at the sound. The voice has a teasing lilt in it that Kyungsoo has come to learn means he’s about to be embarrassed in some way.

Kyungsoo would fantasize about his barn not having a shelter in it, but a huge fighting pit, with all his dogs and bunnies gathered in it, viciously snarling, showing razor sharp teeth, and with Kyungsoo in a black robe, kicking Baekhyun into the pit headfirst.

Kyungsoo does choke on his coffee this time. The ginger cat on his lap, Hunnie, gets sprayed with the stuff. He huffs, affronted, leaping off with the speed of light and hitting Kyungsoo in the face with his tail.

"Wow, Kyungsoo, am I making you excited?" Baekhyun laughs, his stupid pig eyes nearly disappearing thanks to his self-satisfied grin. "Well, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen Taehyung eat a lollipop, but if you catch sight of that you know you’re in for a treat, let me tell you. That tongue of his..."

The voice is insufferable. Dear God, if he had to be narrated for the rest of his life, why couldn’t it be done by Morgan Freeman or something? Or Jo Insung. That’s a nice dude. Platonically speaking.

This dude takes his every move under a microscope. When Kyungsoo pulls two bottles of wine from the store shelf instead of one, he immediately starts on how troubles had always driven Kyungsoo towards liquor, and how Kyungsoo was still grieving over Baekhyun's ban on his chicken coop plans. While Kyungsoo is indignantly gasping, Narrator Dude goes on to describe the happily and long buried memory of 15-year old Kyungsoo getting drunk on strawberry daiquiris after his first and only girlfriend broke up with him. When Kyungsoo cleans the house and finds a box of condoms in a bottom drawer, Narrator Dude dramatically speaks of the 'pang in his chest at the layer of dust covering the still plastic-wrapped item.' And when Kyungsoo takes in a stray cat that is very clearly pregnant, he totally picks Baekhyun's side when the latter yells at him a week later, as they stand in front of six softly meowing little kittens. Baekhyun tells him to sell the kitties as soon as possible, and threatens to drown them if he doesn't see a notice up on the shelter's website next week.

Narrator Dude isn't constantly there but pops up every now and then. He's never gone long though, just long enough for it to drift to the back of Kyungsoo's mind, so that he nearly jumps out of his skin when he returns. Sometimes it's just for one sentence, sometimes he won't shut up. He finds countless ways to grate on his nerves, though what Kyungsoo mostly can't get used to is him being there.

Kyungsoo is a private person. A very private person. He only shares his thoughts with a selected few, and liked to keep a large amount of them to himself. To hear them broadcasted out loud is something that startles him every time. It’s like every small, half finished thought, every long-forgotten memory, every subconsciously done mannerism he’d ever stuffed into a secluded corner of his mind was being exposed. Publically. And eloquently worded. And sometimes even worded so it makes him blush, which is the worst thing of all.


--


Baekhyun immediately starts talking when Kyungsoo opens the door for him. It's nine a.m. on a Monday, Kyungsoo has been up for two hours, but he still needs more coffee to handle Baekhyun.

"So, the first appointment I set up for you will be here at ten, then another at twelve and one at four. Tomorrow there'll be two as well, and another one on Friday."

"Ugh, Baek, do I really need to do it?" Kyungsoo thumps his head against the kitchen cupboard, the coffee machine bubbling in an obnoxiously cheerful fashion beneath him.

"YES! Your income really isn't cutting it, Kyungsoo, you need to sell at least four animals this week. Expensive ones if you can."

"Can't you talk to them? You're way better at that stuff." Kyungsoo pulls at the neck of his cream sweater and looks around the kitchen as if looking for escape routes. He's in the same spot as when he heard the voice for the first time, he realizes, well over three weeks ago. He hasn't heard him today yet.

"It's part of your job, Kyungsoo, not mine," Baekhyun says sternly. "You can't just be the caretaker, you have a business to run."

"I know." Kyungsoo said morosely. "You want coffee too?"

"You bet. And also, Taehyung will drop by today, okay? He was gonna pick me up after work but he just texted he'll finish early."

Kyungsoo groaned, thumping his head against the cabinet again.


--


The first appointment doesn't go well at all. Kyungsoo gives the crisp, blond, CEO-looking male in front of him a sweaty handshake. He's completely inaudible when he murmurs his greeting and the man, Kim Joonmyun, looks at him in barely concealed confusion. 

Mr. Kim is a stern man and makes it clear that he doesn't want a dog that causes any trouble. Kyungsoo assures him his dogs are all very well-behaved, but his voice comes out strained and he knows he sounds like a liar. To top it off, one of dogs bites at his fingers because his shaking hands pick her up too roughly. Mr. Kim tells him he'll need to sleep on it, but Kyungsoo doubts he'll ever see him again.

When it's five to twelve Kyungsoo is squirming with nerves. He's not good at this. He's bad at talking to strangers in general, but especially if they're people he needs to impress, to convince and bedazzle. That man must've thought he was an idiot. This is horrible.

Kyungsoo had spent the morning with a Grade A narcissist.

Kyungsoo startles from his spot on the back door steps and groans. Great. What a timing for this guy to pop around the corner.

This of course completely unbeknownst to Kyungsoo, who never noticed flaws in others. But Kim Joonmyun was one of these people who are so self-centered they think every bit of noise is meant to personally annoy them.

Kyungsoo perks up a little as the words sank in, listening attentively.

He'd only wanted to take in a stray to come off as a good samaritan, in hopes to impress the woman he wanted to propose to. If Kyungsoo hadn't been the way he was, he would've been glad this man did not get his money-smelling hands on any of the dogs.

Eyes wide beneath his sleek bangs, he considers that. He's been occupied with berating himself and hasn't really thought about mr. Kim. But… he had been kind of a prick, right? Who would take in a dog and expect it to never make noise or trouble? 

And if he desired to wed this woman, a better tactic would've been to touch up his roots

Kyungsoo snorts involuntarily. Then he hears a car driving up the porch and jumps up, off to meet his next customer. There's a slight skip in his step that had been absent all morning.

"Hey!" A tall, lanky and obnoxiously red-haired male walks up to him on the porch. A preschool-aged girl is hanging from his hand and there's a big family car behind him.

"Good morning, Mr. Park." Kyungsoo's hand isn't sweaty this time, and he thanks the heavens that he remembers this man's name.

"Nice to meet you. I hope you don't mind that I brought my daughter along, I forgot school's out early today."

"Not at all." Kyungsoo's voice is too soft again and Mr. Park looks at him funnily, so Kyungsoo steels himself and tries again. "Not at all, sir. I suppose she wants to have a say in the matter too, no?"

He internally cheers for his successful small talk as Mr. Park easily goes with it. "You bet! Joohyun may look sweet but she can put her foot down, can't you Joohyun?"

Kyungsoo smiles and braves a moment of eye contact as they reach the barn.

There's a wart on this man's nose.

Kyungsoo ugly snorts in horror, but manages to disguise it as a laugh at the taller's joke.

"Um, okay, since you have a small child I would advice a dog that's not too large." Nerves are bubbling under his skin again, and he wills them down.

"Sounds great!" Chanyeol grins brightly.

At the side of his nose. It moves when he talks.

Kyungsoo can't contain a helpless giggle and he turns around to hide it, luring the dogs towards him.

It's really hard to miss once you see it.

Then why point it out, Kyungsoo thinks desperately. He's so busy cursing at that damn guy his nerves are pushed to the back of his mind.

"S-so this one, he'd be my first choice. Beagles are typical family dogs, and this one is exceptionally sweet. His name's Chen." He offered, smiling nervously.


--


Kyungsoo is sitting on the back door steps again, leaning against the door leading to the kitchen. He's blowing on his tea and breathing deeply, still ruffled from the intense socializing. At least the second visitors had been nice, and he's pretty sure he managed to sell Chen.

For the first time he pictures, or allows himself to picture, what this narrator dude would be like. Where would he live, where would he be when he wrote his story? Does he have an upper class apartment with a wooden desk in a grand office? Does he write on an empty apartment floor on a busted up computer? Kyungsoo feels like he lives in Goyang too, though he couldn't say why. Maybe because he writes about the city like it is natural, naming streets and bus lines with nonchalance. He wonders what his hands would look like, the hands that write words with more significance than they could ever guess, to one person at least. Long fingers, stubby? Visible veins and bones? He wonders if he is a fast typer. If he laughs at his own writings. If he likes writing in the morning, or at night.

Baekhyun's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he shook off the vivid but blurry image he's trying to form.

"Soo, meet Taehyung." Kyungsoo looks at the guy in front of him with confusion. He looks like Baekhyun, and he can hear Baekhyun speak, but this man's lips aren't moving.

For half a second Kyungsoo is utterly confused, until Baekhyun walks into his line of vision and throws an arm around the stranger's shoulders.

"Soo?" He frowns, and the other male -Taehyung, his mind slowly puzzled together- quips a ‘nice to meet you.’

Kyungsoo may not be an expert on relationships, but he knew it had to be illegal to date your own twin.

He suddenly breaks into laughter at that, and Baekhyun's boyfriend must think he's insane by now.

"Wow, you are so cute," the brunette is undeterred by Kyungsoo's general weirdness, and the deep boom of his voice nearly knocks Kyungsoo on his . "We should totally set him up with Jimin, he'll be just his type."


--


The kittens were starting to walk. The pitter-patter of barely grown nails against concrete had replaced the blind mewls muffled in soft blankets. Dirt-stained, soft hands reached out to them, asking them over, rewarding their efforts with kind petting. He'd promised Baekhyun to sell the kittens, and he would. But right now, they were still too young. They were still his to care for.


As Kyungsoo listens, he doesn't realize he's smiling the whole time.

(A/N:) Parts 2 and 3 coming up!