Days like this make him miss home... Too much, almost.

The air today was chilly in the way that could only be fixed by a warm bowl of his Eomma's rice porridge. When he was younger, he was convinced that it had magical powers. The warm, thick soup didn't only help with the cold, but it also soothed Kibum's soul and quieted the rushing thoughts in his mind. It was a reminder that no matter what, there was always something familiar and comforting that he could come back to. But today, the only thing that was keeping his hands from freezing was the warm cup of coffee that he had gotten for himself on his way to work. He had tried to convince himself that this would have to do, as he had for the last many years. The thing is, it was never good enough. And it's not good enough today, either. 

The lobby of the office building was busy, filled with people who were getting to ready to start another work week. As usual, he was greeted with smiles from security who were waving him through the crowd as soon as they caught a glimpse of him. 

"Good morning, Mr. Kim," one of them said. "This way please."

In no time at all, he skipped the long lines and was on the express elevator, riding straight to the top floor. With all the fuss surrounding him, Kibum was still just a young man who was not quite sure about his place in the world. He shakes off his melancholy as he gets ready for another day at the office and takes a deep breath as he goes over his daily mantra quietly in his head. 

I am intelligent, capable, hardworking. I add value to this office. I can do this. 

The elevator doors open and he walks confidently through the office, virtually ignoring every morning greeting that was being sent his way. It wasn't that he was trying to be rude... It was just that this was the few minutes in his day that he was laser-focused on the tasks he had to accomplish. Every day, he would use that short walk from the elevator to his office doors to think about his to-do list and all the different ways he was going to plow through it.

Kim Kibum had earned quite a reputation for himself.

He was the youngest editor for one of the biggest fashion magazines in Seoul and was famous for having an eye for the next big trend. Many young designers owe their careers to him for being the first one to notice them and bring them to the public's attention. His keen eye for talent was also balanced by an exquisite taste in everyday, wearable clothing-- a taste that helped cement their publishing house as a force in the fashion industry. Apart from his undeniable talents, Kibum was also known for his notorious work ethic. He demands perfection--not only from himself but from everyone around him. He is cut-throat and brutally honest, and this commanded a strange combination of fear and respect from colleagues and upper management, alike. 

"Good morning, Kibum," Soyou says, standing to greet her boss. "Do you want to hear your messages first or your schedule?"

"Hi, Soyou," he replies, setting his designer bag on the couch at one end of his office. With one hand, he fishes out his laptop and heads to his desk. "Let's go with messages today."

"Okay... Your Eomma called again. 'Kibum, I've been trying to get a hold of you since last night. Please call me back as soon as you can.'"

He sighs as he lays his coffee cup down on his desk. "Yeah, I know, I know... I keep forgetting to get back to her. Could you remind me to give her a call after that nine o'clock meeting? With...?"

"Your nine o'clock is an interview with Kim Jonghyun-ssi from The Times... For the piece that they're doing on you. Actually, he's already here. Just tell me when you're ready to see him," Soyou says, quickly leafing through her notes to make absolutely sure. "I'm penciling in a call with your Eomma for ten in the morning."

"Right, The Times," Kibum says, finally being able to take a seat. He didn't realize that the interview was scheduled for today. "Any other messages?"

"Just one more... What do you think of this?" Soyou says, holding up a mock-up that had been leaning against Kibum's desk. "They insisted on getting your approval before this was sent to the printers." She holds up two boards with different layouts for the spread featuring Kibum's newest discovery. 

"The one on the left," he says with a wave of his hand, after taking one look at the options. "And tell them to never again to send me mock-ups from the artist on the right. That person clearly doesn't have the eye to work with us. Don't use them again."

Soyou jots the comment down on her notebook and takes the mock-ups in her arms. "Sure, of course. Nothing more from the artist on the right. Ready to hear your schedule today?"

"Hmm. Maybe after The Times? I hate to keep a newsman waiting," Kibum says, straightening out his shirt and jacket. "How do I look?"

"Of course you look amazing, as always," Soyou says, with a smile.

"You spoil me. Give me ten minutes then send him in? Thanks so much."

"Anytime," his assistant says, walking out and closing the door behind her. 

An article in The Times... If nothing else said that Kibum had made it, this was it. His fast-rising star is the talk of the industry and he was being celebrated for his talents. If only he knew what to do with all the attention. 

He looks down at his buzzing phone, checking to see who it was. Eomma. He felt terrible ignoring the woman who birthed him for the nth time in a row, but he really didn't have other options as his next appointment was making his way through his office doors. 

"This way, Sir. He's expecting you," Soyou says, opening the door and giving Kibum a reassuring wink. "Kim Kibum-ssi, Kim Jonghyun from The Times is here for your nine o'clock appointment."

"Good morning, Kim Kibum-ssi," Jonghyun says, bowing respectfully. "On behalf of the publication, thank you for seeing me."

"Oh, please, the pleasure is entirely mine," Kibum says, bowing in return. The editor gestures towards the seat opposite his desk and prompts Jonghyun to take a seat. "Thank you for even thinking of me. It's an honor."

The journalist takes a seat and takes out his recording device. "The clamor to know more about you is pretty convincing. A farmer's son... Risking it all just to find your place in the city... Making waves in the industry even before you got out of university... Editor at 26 at the most prestigious fashion publication in the country, with your own office with a view. It's all quite fascinating. You're turning into somewhat of a celebrity in your own right."

Kibum smiles bashfully. He was really uncomfortable being referred to in that way. "Oh no, I wouldn't put it that way. The reason why I always wanted to work in fashion was that no one would really know I would be there. It could be more about the clothes, the art, more than anything else. All this attention... It's unnerving."

Jonghyun smiles. He could already tell that this would be a good interview. Despite how people describe him, Kim Kibum did not have any pretentions. Even now, he already came off as vulnerable and quite humble. Kibum was just a man dedicated to his craft, just like he was. 

The hour passed by faster than either of them had anticipated. They talked of Kibum's simple life growing up, and difficult it was to leave. They talked of the road that led the editor to where he was right now, acknowledging that he had very little to do with the circumstances that serendipitously lined up for him. They talked of his plans for the future and the exciting way that his publishing house was supporting him. It didn't seem like an interview at all. Both men enjoyed each other's company and understood each other's passion and commitment to the work that they do. They both got carried away trading stories and in no time at all, Soyou was knocking on Kibum's door, reminding him of his next appointment. 

The journalist obliges and reluctantly asks for a few minutes for Kibum to answer one last question. "Is there anything you regret?"

The young man wasn't ready for that one. He looks down at the floor and the energy in the room shifts. Kibum hangs his head low and takes a deep breath. "I don't really want to talk about it, but yes. Yes, I do. There's one thing I regret, and that's all I have to say about that."

"Alright. Fair enough," Jonghyun says. pressing the stop button on his recorder and arranging his stuff back into his bag. He tentatively stands up, getting ready to leave but abruptly turns his head to look squarely at Kibum. 

"Look, I usually don't do this... But I was wondering... Would you like to get dinner sometime? I know you're busy, but you still have to eat," Jonghyun says, a charm in his eye that sparked Kibum's interest. 

The young man smiles in return. "That's really sweet... But I don't really have time for dating."

"That seems like code for not interested," the journalist chuckles.

"Let's just say that I'm not ready for anything like that. And I'm not the type to start something I know I can't see through," Kibum says. "You get it, right?"

"Maybe I ended the interview too soon. Sounds like there's quite a story back there. But, sure. I get it. It's a shame though." Jonghyun stands up on his feet and makes his way to the door. "You know how to reach me if you change your mind. I really better get going. This isn't going to write itself. Thank you for your time, Kibum-ssi."

"Thank you too, Jonghyun-ssi. It was very nice to meet you," Kibum says, rising with his guest to show him to the door. "Let me know when it gets printed, okay? I want to send a copy back home. They like this kind of stuff."

"Sure," he replies, stretching his hand out for a handshake. "I'll let you know. See you around." The gentlemen shake each other's hand and Jonghyun makes his way out of Kibum's office.

The young man heaves a deep sigh of relief as he closed his office door. He wipes his suddenly clammy hands on his pants and realizes that he is shaking. For some reason, the tail end of the conversation was the part that he was most uncomfortable with. It was a surprise that being asked out on a date freaked him out this much. It wasn't that Jonghyun wasn't attractive. The journalist was cute, smart and confident. Based on the work that Kibum has read, he's also very good at his job. The more he thought about it, it was harder to justify turning the man down. Why didn't he take the plunge? 

He looks down at his wrist and runs his fingers across the frayed yarn wrapped carefully around it. The tattered bracelet is a reminder of what he had left behind... His one regret.

Kibum still really wasn't ready, even after all this time. 

"So that's it? You're just going to leave?"

"I told you. What other choice do I have, Jinki?" Kibum says, trying so hard not to raise his voice. He stomps toward his closet and takes every piece of hanging clothing aggressively in his arms, with all the hangers hanging on for dear life. This entire conversation was starting to irritate him to no end. They had talked about the same thing for the last two days. It was getting tiring. 

"You do have a choice. You could stay here," the older man said, as Kibum threw all the clothes on the bed angrily. It was quite humbling for Jinki to watch his boyfriend of two years start to furiously pack his suitcase, despite his protests. Loud thuds fill the silence as the younger man throws each hanger on the floor. The only thing that cuts through the noise was Jinki's crystal clear voice.

"Kibum, please. Stay with me."

Jinki takes a seat down on the bed in surrender. Nothing he said in the last couple of days seemed to make a difference. It was becoming clear that Kibum had made his mind up; there was no going back. There was nothing else left to do but to accept the one thing that had been staring him in the face. But he was scared. He was so scared. 

"I've never asked for anything... Except this... Please. I don't want you to leave."

The younger man stops in his tracks. Jinki's voice cracked, and this had never happened before. Kibum knew that this whole thing was starting to get to him--to the both of them. He lets the jacket in his hands fall haphazardly onto the open suitcase and joins Jinki on the bed. 

They quietly sit across from one another, avoiding each one's gaze. 

Kibum couldn't take seeing Jinki like this. The older one had always been the rock. He was always strong, clear-headed, calm. Seeing Jinki start to break down wasn't something Kibum was quite ready for. He knew it wouldn't be easy but he hadn't anticipated that he would actually be able to see Jinki's heartbreak before his very eyes.  

"You've been by my side for as long as I can remember... I don't know how to be without you."

Kibum reaches out and pulls Jinki into a tight embrace. The familiar warmth of their bodies was an instant comfort to both of them. The older man buries his face into Kibum's neck, taking in a deep breath of his scent. The older man's arms were holding Kibum as firmly as he could, desperate to never let him go.

"I'm sorry, Jinki," Kibum says, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

Kibum is startled from his thoughts by the incessant buzzing on his mahogany desk. His phone was dancing across the surface, almost as if to convey how desperate the person on the other line was. This was the perfect time to answer anyway, so he walks back to his desk and picks up the phone. He braced himself for the scolding that he would most certainly get. 

"Eomma," he finally answers. "Before you talk my ear off, I'm really, really sorry about not getting back to you sooner. You know how my job is... I always have a million and one things to do and--"

"I'm calling about your Halmeoni, Kibum. It's time. You have to come home."