Part one

The subway was packed with men and women in suits, which didn’t look strange considering it was the evening peak time. Kibum had been lucky enough to get in at one of the first stations and find a free seat, but even though he was used to is, the feeling of being uncomfortably surrounded was almost physically painful. More stations brought more people, forcing him to take as little space as possible by holding his briefcase on his lap.

Almost all his life rested in this briefcase, and every time he found himself stuck between some person and the train’s window, he wondered what he would do if he ever was to lose it or having it stolen. For sure he had made copies of everything on his computer, at his office, but he was the kind of man that has a thing for material things. Although he owned quite a few devices at the leading edge of technology, he remained fond of his journals and other paper diaries.

Being one of the most popular event planners in the capital was all about organisation, and the young man never fully trusted his phone or computer with such important matters. A basic journal, quality felt pens and his favourite pastel highlighters, that was all he needed to do his job to perfection. Moreover, it often impressed clients when they personally came to his office, his neat desk always shamelessly showing his handmade planners. After all, if it could help giving him some more advertising…

A woman’s voice drew him out of his thoughts about this upcoming business party he had been taken on, and he looked up to notice it was actually coming from the loudspeaker and not a real person. He sighed when he heard the worst words ever after a long working day, imitated by absolutely everyone if it wasn’t for the few people adding some cursing words. A technical disruption had occurred, forcing the train to interrupt its usual ride and its passengers to get off. 

Checking the wagon’s screen, he felt even more annoyed since he realised he was stuck at Sindang, so seventeen stations away from his stop. He could give up on a potential walk home, this would take way too long… but he had a real map in his head, and he knew he could take another line at this station to reach his best friend’s bar. Perhaps he would find one of their common friends there who would accept to give him a ride home. Things weren’t going too bad in the end !

As he went with the flow and made his way out of the train, he struggled to weave in and out, most people not as quick-witted as him when it came to find another itinerary. With a few nudges and stumbles, he managed to escape the crows and sighed with relief when he had a moment of peace on the escalator. 

“Gosh, I hate people.” He mumbled as he dusted his expensive jacket, hissing when he found an ugly fold on his arm. “Bovines in suits.”

When he reached the ground floor, he held his briefcase against his chest to make sure he wouldn’t drop it in his haste, and looked for the stairs leading to the line he had to take. In no time and thanks to the few signs, he found himself on the right platform and the display announcing the next train in three minutes. It was his first time taking this line and he was surprised not to see a lot of people around him. After all, at such an hour in the early evening, every platform should be crowded. His quiet question found an answer when he eventually show a bit more of interest to his surroundings : he finally heard. 

It was a voice, masculine but pleasantly crystalline, resounding against the tiled walls of the station. Kibum turned his head towards the source of this strangely appealing sound, and found a dozen of persons, men and women, adults and teenagers, almost pressed against each other in a corner of the platform. They were all offering him his back, but there was no doubt the melodic voice came from something they were hiding from his sight.

Two minutes.

His curiosity ended up winning over his boredom, and he elbowed his way through the few people already approaching the rails, expecting to enter their wagon first. The more steps he made, the clearer the voice grew, and the young man made out the familiar sound of an acoustic guitar’s strings being grazed. The melody was setting an utterly cozy and warm atmosphere that contrasted so much with the dull and autumnal cold in the station. It was like a fireplace had been placed in that corner, the flames’ warmth being lit by the stranger’s tone.

One minute.

Kibum was a rather tall man, however he struggled to find his place in the already standing audience, as small as it was. When he eventually stood between an umpteenth man in suit and a teen whose clothes smelled of cannabis, his breath was taken away. Not because of the smoker’s unpleasant fragrance, but thanks to the face he could finally put the voice to.

He was there, sitting on a foldable stool with his legs crossed to hold the guitar, his grey jeans ripped at the knees and large boots reminding of soldiers’. His fingers brushing the strings were shining with a few rings, all silver except for a thin, black one that matches the all black hoodie the young man was wearing. Indeed, young he was, and even his hood couldn’t hide it. His platinum blonde bangs were covering his forehead but Kibum could see his features, sharp but so well drawn, as if sculpted in marble. High cheekbones, straight jawline, fleshy lips…

Ding ding ding.

The event planner’s observation was interrupted by the loud sound alarming the upcoming closing of the wagons’ doors. Kibum got startled and noticed he was the only one still looking at the subway singer. He didn't know what kind of adrenaline made him shove his hand in his jacket’s pocket to pull a bill from there and throwing it in the guitar’s case on the floor, before he jumped in the wagon right before its doors closed on his leg. His heart missed a beat when he looked through the pane and found the blonde man looking at him with a soft, grateful smile on his lips.

Before he could even return it, the train was gone, and the stranger’s smile with it.

*   *   *   *   *

When he pushed the bar’s door, Kibum was welcome by the smell of leather and alcohol, sweetened by cologne’s fragrance. It was still a bit too early for the place to be crowded but a few regular customers were already sitting here and there, sharing a beer with friends or drinking more refined drinks on their own. It was a quite comfortable space, not a common pub where one’s only objective was to get drunk and fights occurred often. No, the Blue Night wasn’t this kind of business.

The brick-built walls were enlighten with dark but soft shades of blue and purple by the few spotlights hanging here and there, enough to not plunge the large room in the dark. The only brighter sources of light came from neons : one horizontally hung abo