Jaehwan is sitting on his bed, reading a manga online when his roommate enters the room. Mobile data is a new luxury in his life, along with new clothes and the ability to just go into a convenience store and walk out with whatever he wants.  

His roommate is wearing a tank top (in February), track pants, and a pair of Jordan sneakers. Jaehwan gets up from his bed and gives a slight bow, just as the guy turns to look at him.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t see you there! I heard you were coming today.”

Jaehwan nods. “Yeah, I’m Lee Jaehwan. Nice to meet you.”

His roommate walks over and extends his hand. Except it’s not a handshake. It’s a variation of one that ends with a fist bump.

“I’m Ok Taecyeon. Nice to meet you!” The guy claps him on his back. “Sorry I’m so sweaty. Physio was hard work today.”

It doesn’t look like Taecyeon is injured at all, but when Taecyeon moves to his bed to put down his things – a sports bag and a beanie, Jaehwan realizes the man is walking with an uneven gait. His right leg is clearly stiffer than the other, and the arch of that foot is practically non-existent. Huh.

“How old are you?”

“I was born in 1992.” Jaehwan takes a seat on his bed and tries not to stare at what he already knows to be there – or well, not there.

“Ah, ‘88.” Taecyeon replies. “I guess we’re going to be roommates for at least… the next few weeks? Are you here for TBI?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Same,” Taecyeon smiles. “I got into a really bad motorcycle accident half a year back in America. Got hit by a truck and thrown off my bike.”

Jaehwan winces slightly with the visual image in his mind. “Well, .”

“Yeah, .” Taecyeon laughs. “Had to get my leg amputated above the knee, too. So physio is for learning how to walk again.”

Taecyeon lifts up his pant leg and confirms Jaehwan’s suspicions. There’s a prosthesis there that looks almost brand new. Shiny metal is in place of where his lower leg might be and it causes a little bit of confusion in his brain that cannot really comprehend where the flesh and skin had gone.

“That’s hot,” Jaehwan says unthinkingly. “Does it hurt?”

“You’re really honest, aren’t you?” Taecyeon pauses. “I like it. You’re cool.”

Jaehwan smiles a little. He was a little worried his roommate would be someone uptight – someone who would take offence with his humour, or the reckless way he speaks. His worries are clearly unfounded, but God is too good to him, giving him such a hot roommate that Jaehwan literally cannot stop thinking about things he really shouldn’t. Like how chiselled Taecyeon’s arms look. And this is just on first impressions.

“I mean, it’s gotta hurt a little, especially when I don’t line up the protective socks properly,” Taecyeon replies, adjusting his pant leg to stretch down to the tops of his sneakers. “But the phantom pains hurt more than anything else. Those really .

“Anyway, I’m starving and I could really use some yoghurt,” Taecyeon scrolls through his phone briefly, replying quickly to some messages. “Shall we go down to the cafeteria?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jaehwan nods. “I was actually getting real bored.”

***

“So…” Taecyeon starts as they walk out of their room. “What’s your TBI from?”

Jaehwan has to walk a little slower so he can walk at the same pace as Taecyeon, but he doesn’t mind. Jaehwan is honestly slightly in awe, thinking about how hard amputees probably have to work to be able to get used to a prosthetic leg.

“Um,” Jaehwan can’t help but chuckle a little. “Not quite sure how to explain it to you. It’s a long story.”

Taecyeon doesn’t speak for a long time, and they just silently make their way down the corridor. Taecyeon is friendly – and clearly popular – with all the nurses.

“Sorry if I’m stepping out of line here,” Taecyeon finally says in the lift, unable to keep the slight trepidation out of his voice. “You seem really familiar. Are you…?”

“Am I that person from the news?” Jaehwan laughs. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

Caught off guard by the answer even though he was suspecting it, Taecyeon blinks and doesn’t really know what to say next.

“I – er – It was the first news I heard when I came back from the States – so –  That’s why it stuck out in my memory. It’s why I recognized you – not that –” Taecyeon stammers, trying to find the right words for the situation.

“Not that you ever watched any of the videos?” Jaehwan teases.

“No, man,” Taecyeon cuts him off hurriedly. “I never saw any of that. It was messed up. I would never –”

Jaehwan, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, feels a small wave of relief wash over him. It’s almost impossible to get away from the K-45 series; almost anyone who’s looking for it can watch it. It’s even become some sort of social craze, something for people to watch with their friends when they’re bored and want something akin to a horror movie. But he had really wanted to be friends with Taecyeon, and he doesn’t think he could stand being friends with anyone who has watched him being attacked like he was in the videos.

“You really don’t have to be nervous.” Jaehwan looks Taecyeon straight in the eye and appreciates it when Taecyeon doesn’t flinch. “I don’t care that you’ve seen the news. , even I can’t get away from the news. It’s everywhere. But what happened to me actually doesn’t bother me that much.”

Taecyeon nods earnestly. “Man, I just want to say, I respect you. That must’ve been hard.”

“Meh, I guess.” Jaehwan says flippantly. “So is the food here any good?”

Taecyeon points to the salad bar, “That one? No. Everything else? Not bad.”

“So, what do you usually eat here?”

“I eat a lot of tteokbokki,” Taecyeon says as he plops himself down on a chair, adjusting his prosthetic leg to rest straight in front of him. “America was really lacking in that aspect.”

“Should I get something for the both of us, then?” Jaehwan pulls out his wallet (a wallet. He hasn’t owned one of those in a long while). “I have a lot of money from suing the bastards.”

Taecyeon, once again, lacks a response. But a split second later he just chuckles and says, “Then go and come back with something expensive. Also a yoghurt.”

Jaehwan smiles. Hm, not bad.

***

Sanghyuk scores a 76% on his math paper, and even though the national average was an 83%, it isn’t too bad a score. Sanghyuk almost has to pinch himself in disbelief. He hasn’t ever gotten more than a 70% in these practice past year papers.

Wonshik grins and passes the paper back to him. “Wow, this is really good, Hyuk-ah."

It’s always a little exciting seeing Wonshik excited about his grades, which is almost all the time, but Sanghyuk never gets tired of it. He’s sure that Wonshik probably has more than a handful of students who could get full marks on papers he can only pass marginally, but that doesn’t ever bother Wonshik. Wonshik always praises him no matter how badly he does, saying that one phrase – Success can only be seen through a veil of failure, dude! – whenever Sanghyuk seems disappointed. It’s heartening, and always makes Sanghyuk feel better. It feels good to make people happy in a way Sanghyuk has never felt for one of his Sirs before.

“Hyung,” he asks, not quite able to keep a smile off his face. “Do you think I’ll be able to get a GED if I take my subjects this year?”

“For Math and Science? Definitely.” Wonshik looks a little amused. “I think we have to work a bit more on your humanities, but I’m fairly confident you’ll be able to pass them.”

“Okay,” Sanghyuk breathes out. “Okay, okay. That’s good.”

“But there’s always next year if you’re in a rush to take it,” Wonshik says. “I’m afraid we’re a bit too late to register this year.”

Sanghyuk’s heart stutters and his jaw tightens, almost in slow motion. “Oh.”

There’s a cold, uncomfortable wave that washes through his body and crashes into his bones. He keeps his expression detached, uncaring, and opens his textbook. Wonshik tells him something interesting about the background of the poem, but he can hardly hear it.