✚

“I’m sure moving here from downtown will be a bit different than what you’re used to,” Jongin’s mother is saying as he watches the scenery passes him by through the car window. “But it shouldn’t be too bad. We’re not moving to the countryside, we’re moving to Santa Monica, a beach! Not bad, right, Jongin?”

“Sure, I guess…” Jongin’s not happy about leaving all his friends behind, but his father’s work got relocated, and he’s just in high school, so what right does he have to object to this?

At least it isn’t the countryside, like his mother had said. But throughout the entire road trip, as they weave closer and closer to their new house, all Jongin sees are legit ing mansions. Gigantic, grandiose ones with white fences all around, like something you’d see out of a movie.

Then again, it’s a known fact that rich people prefer to live close to the beaches, and Jongin’s parents are steadily becoming one, too.

Jongin is about to enter the high-society life. The wealthy life. The elite life.

But he’s not sure he wants it at all.

“Have you seen the photos of our new house, Jongin? It has white marble columns erected from floor to ceiling! And the ceiling is so high, oh gosh. Then there’s the backyard where I can plant roses, and―”

Jongin starts tuning his mother out halfway. He barely looked at the photos. He’ll see it once they arrive, anyway.

The GPS starts beeping and signalling they’re almost there. Jongin’s eyes slide disinterestedly over the gigantic houses he sees passing him one by one, when a figure walking down a driveway catches his attention.

It’s 2pm on a Saturday, and the drive had been relatively quiet as he passes the streets―probably because it’s the weekend and most people are out and about by now. So he’s surprised when he sees a lone figure walking down and heading towards the mailbox.

The car drives by the stranger’s house, and Jongin finds himself locking eyes with the person. It’s another boy around his age, in a hoodie and ripped jeans, hair dyed a bright platinum pink that falls messily over his eyes.

Eyes that are locked right onto Jongin’s own, at this moment.

Time seems to slow as their gazes remain onto each other’s, even as the boy’s figure gets smaller and smaller as the car drives away.

Jongin is only broken out of his reverie when his mother exclaims, “We’re here!”

He jolts, snapping his head back to see his new house. It’s as big and grand as the other houses in this neighborhood, completed with black fences around a huge frontyard and driveway, and probably an equally huge backyard his mother had gushed about.

“What a drive, huh? Phew, I’m beat,” his father comments, getting out of the car with Jongin following suit.

The first thing he notices as he steps outside is the smell of fresh air, the breezy scent of the beach no doubt just a few minutes drive away from here.

The second thing he notices… is the boy.

Still standing by his mailbox, a few houses over.

The boy and Jongin are neighbors.

The boy is still inexplicably keeping his gaze on Jongin’s, and the latter stares back, transfixed.

“Jongin? Help me with this luggage,” his mother’s voice once again breaks him out of his trance, and he nods towards her.

When he looks back, the mysterious boy is gone.

That doesn’t explain why his heart won’t stop pounding inside his ears, though.

✚

Jongin doesn’t see him again until night, when his motorcycle is delivered to him from their old garage. It’s literally his most treasured possession. He had gotten it as a birthday present as soon as he turned sixteen, and there hasn’t been a day going by where he hadn’t ridden it.

Except today.

So he hops onto the motorcycle and reeves up the engine, to test it out and feel the familiar rumblings of the vehicle beneath him again. Should he go for a ride around the neighborhood? He might get lost, though… And he’s tired from the early roadtrip today, anyway.

So lost in his internal debate, Jongin doesn’t hear footsteps approaching before a voice chirps, “Wow, you ride a motorcycle? How coooool~”

Jongin snaps his head up to look down the driveway to see the boy from the afternoon standing on the sidewalk, a plastic bag swinging idly in one hand and the other holding an ice cream cone.

At Jongin’s impassive face as they once again stare at each other, the boy grins at him. “You’re the family that just moved here, right? We’re neighbors!”

“I figured…” Jongin replies, watching the way the other is into his ice cream nonchalantly.

“So what’s your name, new neighbor? I’m Sehun, nice to meet you~”

“My name is Jongin. It’s nice to meet you too, Sehun.”

“Do you always look so gloom and doom like someone ran over your pet, or what? It doesn’t suit your handsome face, Jongin.”

“W―What?” Jongin stumbles, widening his eyes at the boy―Sehun.

Sehun only shrugs, an easy smile still planted firmly on his face. “I think we should be going to the same school. Hey, give me a ride to school sometime on that beast of yours, okay?” With one last bright smile, Sehun waves at him before skipping down the street, heading towards his own house, the plastic bag in his hand jingling the whole way.

Jongin stares after the boy’s back, at his t-shirt and shorts fluttering in the spring wind of California, and how his platinum pink hair looks almost silverish in the moonlight.

There was a sm