NOTE ; To read translated Korean, hover over the hangul. Mobile users, see bottom of chapter. Apologies for any mis-translations.

Kim Himchan never thought his never-ending, dramatic love story would start with a dead engine. But it did, strangely so. But would he trade it with a probably better, more romantic starting? Not in a million years.

It was a sunny summer day, somewhere in the middle of California State and Himchan was on his way back to Los Angeles, from visiting some friends interstate. He was at least three quarters of the way there, travelling quite steadily along the main highway before his truck – a large Ford F350 – sputtered to a shuddering halt a few miles out of the closest town. Glancing around the cab in surprise, Himchan decided to hop out and see what had happened. Thankfully, the truck hadn’t lost complete steering when it started to sputter and Himchan had been able to guide it out onto the road shoulder – out of the way of the other cars. Hopping down from the black beast, Himchan rounded the side to stand in front of the hood, carefully opening the covering to inspect his engine. Seeing nothing that stuck out completely as wrong, Himchan was stumped and decided walking the remaining few miles into town was probably his best option.

Slamming the hood of his car, Himchan climbed back inside, gathering his wallet, phone and keys before jumping out again and started to walk - already sweating in his baseball shirt and jeans. The walk along the practically deserted highway was a long and tiring one, so by the time Himchan reached the township, he was about ready to collapse. Luckily for him, the first building on his right was a well kept bar and for a little country town like this, Himchan knew it was what he was looking for. Pushing open the doors slowly, Himchan breathed a sigh of relief at the rowdy but jovial atmosphere and knew instantly that he’d find a helping hand within the crowd. Making his way towards the bar, he smiled at the old barman, “Excuse me, I’m in need of some help.” The old barman looked him and his city clothes up and down before asking, “What kind of help are you looking for?”

Himchan sighed, “My truck broke down a few miles east of here and I couldn’t see what was wrong with it. Is there anyone you could recommend to help me?”

The man guffawed and pointed across the room, “He’s the one you’d want. Hey, J! Get over here.”

Himchan followed the man’s finger and found himself staring at a few truckers, one of which stood at the old barman’s call and wandered over. He leant against the bar silently; gaze wandering between Himchan, the barman and back again, “Need something?” Himchan automatically felt himself start to swoon. The man’s voice was soft, lilting and with the slightest hint of a foreign accent; in other words, the man’s voice to Himchan, was dreamy. Shaking his head slightly, Himchan straightened up, “My truck broke down a few miles out of town, think you could help?” J smiled, “Sure thing stranger, let’s go.”

As Himchan led J out of the bar, he realised how contradictory the situation was. J had just called him a stranger – which of course, they were exactly that; strangers – and yet he followed Himchan like a puppy until they stepped down from the bar steps. Then J grabbed Himchan by the wrist and tugged him away from the direction of the highway, “I’m bringing a tow truck,” he explained as Himchan made a surprised noise, “If I can’t find what’s wrong, I’ll bring it back here and have the mechanic look at it for you.” “Oh,” Himchan said dumbly,  “That’s good thinking, thanks.” J smiled childishly, leading Himchan to a large wreckers yard in the middle of the town, disappearing momentarily and reappearing with a tow truck. He waited patiently as Himchan hauled himself up into the cab and buckled himself in.

Once Himchan’s belt clicked, the truck rolled forward and J glanced at Himchan for directions. “Just head east along the highway. You can’t miss it.” And he was right, although J slowed and drove past it jokingly – pretending to look around, obviously looking at the black monstrosity parked on the side of the highway. Steering the tow truck through a wide u-turn, J parked it just in front of Himchan’s truck and killed the engine. Jumping out, Himchan trailed behind and J went to work – opening the hood of his car and burying his head within the mechanisms. Himchan failed miserably at stopping himself checking out the trucker’s as he worked. J smiled to himself as he looked through the engine, feeling eyes on his backside and guessing the blonde owner of the truck was checking him out.

Not that he minded.

Not at all.

After an hour of tinkering, J re-emerged from the depths of Himchan’s engine and shook his head, “I think your spark plug’s broken and I don’t have one with me. You’ll have to leave your car in town for a day or two so it can be fixed.” He hated to be the bearer of bad news and the way the blonde man’s shoulder slumped made his heart ache – just a little. Himchan sighed at the news and nodded. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money to pay for such maintenance to his baby (ehem, car), but he wasn’t sure how he was to explain it to his father back in LA. Now that he thought about it, without his truck, how would he get home? He was startled out of his thoughts when J began to winch the truck onto the tow tray and he kicked his boots into the dust out of frustration. Still, he voiced no objections when J held the door open for him to jump in the truck cab.

The drive back to town was deathly silent, Himchan staring out at the interstate desert and J focused on driving; he had precious cargo now. It wasn’t long before they pulled up outside a mechanic shop, just on the outskirts of town. J jumped out of the cab first, hollering something that Himchan didn’t quite catch, just as the door slammed shut behind him. Waiting shyly by the tow truck, Himchan waited as J appeared with another – taller – blonde man by his side, “This your truck that needs a new plug?” The new man’s voice was deep, rough and certainly y. Too bad his oil stained overalls and work boots didn’t quite appeal to Himchan as much as J’s boots, jeans and flannel shirt. Not to mention J had piercings, which Himchan thought was incredibly good looking.

“아이 수줍음, 안 그렇습니까?”

“조금만."

“그의 몸 전체 비명 도시.”

It took a moment, but once Himchan realised he could still understand them without the use of English, he stared at them, stunned,“한국이 있습니까?” The two looked at him as if he’d grown another head, “당신은 말할 수 없다?” The other blonde asked, as J dissolved into a fit of giggles, “뱅 용국, 상주 메카닉.” He held out a cleaned hand for Himchan to shake and he did, “김힘찬.” Yongguk smiled, gums on display and clapped his hands, “Right, let’s get that truck in here and I’ll see what I can do.”

Himchan and Yongguk stepped aside, as J clambered up into the truck and turned it around, before Yongguk stepped forward to help bring the black 4x4 off the tray. The three of them pushed the heavy vehicle into the mechanics shop and Himchan huffed loudly, causing the other two to chuckle and about being skinny.

He stuck out his tongue childishly and sulked in the corner, while Yongguk and J fiddled with his car. Pulling out the busted spark plug, Yongguk disappeared out the back to see if he had any in stock. When he came back empty handed, Himchan started to really worry about getting home. Either his disquiet showed on his face or J was a good mind reader, because in the next minute he was standing beside him, “So where do you live?” Himchan blinked, “LA…” J beamed, “Great! I’m heading that way tomorrow morning. I can give you a lift.” Yongguk spoke up from the beside the car, “I won’t get a spark plug til Thursday, so you might as well go home until I call you.” Conceding defeat, Himchan handed over his details to Yongguk so he could retrieve his car and followed J back outside.

And that was how Himchan found himself surrounded by country folk, in the town bar, having the time of his life with J at his side. Neither of them were drinking much, maybe a beer or two every few hours. They realized they had quite a way to go in the morning and J didn’t need to be drinking heavily before going on his trucking route. So by the time the clock struck 10pm, J tugged Himchan out of the bar and down the road to a small inn. It was cosy in the foyer and the whole feel of the place was charmingly rustic. The staircase was wooden and J waved to the innkeeper as the two walked past.

Himchan followed J blindly and took the couch without a word once they were inside his room. J wasted no time in showering, packing his bags and bidding Himchan goodnight, before retreating to his bed and falling asleep instantly. Unfortunately, Himchan didn’t have the same bliss. He lay awake for most of the night, wondering about the mysterious and absolutely gorgeous ‘J’, because surely that wasn’t his real name. Then he worried of his parent’s reactions to the car and his lack of communication with them. Lastly, he had a small moment of panic when he realized this secretive ‘J’ could possibly be planning a kidnap and all this kindness could be a cover-up. He slapped himself a little to straighten his thoughts, before he finally fell into a fitful sleep.

Right around daybreak, Himchan was woken gently by J, (“3:30 in the freaking morning. Who in their right minds would go to work this early?”), who glanced at him apologetically before handing him a brown paper bag and a cup of coffee, “I don’t choose my hours, sorry. I’m just glad this job is only for my break.” That got Himchan curious, but he decided to bite his tongue and follow J out of the room and into the sleeping town. He was led around the back of the wrecking yard and stepped back in shock at the size of the truck that sat in front of him. Tapping him on the shoulder, J moved past him and demonstrated how to climb up into the cab. Shoving the coffee into the bag and holding the paper securely between his teeth, Himchan used both hands to haul himself up, trying not to blush as J snickered next to him behind the wheel.

Once he was secure in his seat, Himchan released his breakfast from his teeth and J started the truck engine (Himchan nearly dropped his coffee at the roar). He caught J covering his mouth as he steered the truck out of the town and onto the highway and frowned, before smiling, “Let’s play a game on our way to LA.” J glanced at him for a second, before he fiddled with some switches and the truck’s headlights came on, illuminating the fairly dark highway, “A game? Like what?” Himchan smiled, as he bit into the blueberry muffin J had brought him, “How about 20 questions?” J laughed, one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his toasted sandwich, “Alright then, you start.” Himchan smirked smugly as he turned slightly, moving his body to face J comfortably, “Okay, what’s your real name?”

“Moon Jongup. I know your name already so, how old are you?”

“21. You?”

“19. Do you live in California?”

“For now. Do you live here?”

“Until I finish school, then I go back to Korea. Are you in college?”

“Unfortunately. I’m on an exchange at the moment for 16 months. What are you doing in school?”

“I’m working to gain a dance scholarship at university. Where do you live in Korea?”

“At the moment, Ilsan with my parents. What about you?”

“I have a dance studio on Hongdae, I live above it. What are you majoring in?”

“Music. I’ve got a minor in psychiatry. What school did you go to in Korea?”

“Seoul Performing Arts. Were you checking me out yesterday?”

Himchan choked on his toast and turned red at the sudden question, feeling his senses try to shut down and turn to mush. He barely registered Jongup’s laughter, as he fought back the embarrassed blush at getting caught. He was glad when the teen trucker dropped the question and they drove on for a while in complete silence. The rumbling of the engine and the soft chewing of toast and muffins, created a sort of lullaby for Himchan and he found himself slowly dozing intermittently, until Jongup finally slowed the truck and turned off the highway. He was glad the burning blush lessened as the silence grew and tried to squint into the dark to see where Jongup was driving. He wasn't in luck when the space beyond the headlights was black. A few moments later, Himchan could barely make out a faint glow in the distance.

“Where are we going?” Himchan asked, thoroughly confused as to where the trucker was taking him. His kidnapper theory was slowly becoming more plausible. Jongup smiled slightly, “Just a quick pit stop to grab the load I need. I’ll fill up the tank when I get to LA.” He glanced from the road to Himchan, “So don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Himchan hid his blushing face by looking out the window. As the truck drew closer, the lights grew brighter and Himchan could suddenly make out a truck yard, full of semi trailers and an array of different cargo. There were oil tanks, cement tanks, wood logs – even grocery products. He stared at the brightly lit yard in awe, having never seen so many truckloads in one place.

Jongup laughed at Himchan’s starry-eyed expression, as he rolled the truck to a stop in front of a covered load. “This is it. Lot 63. Wait here for a bit.” He jumped out of the cab with ease, slamming the door behind him and walking over to a small building, which Himchan assumed to be an office of some sort. A few moments later, Jongup returned, a few pieces of paper fluttering in his grasp. Himchan sat up straight, as Jongup jumped up into the cab - only to jump straight back down and round the back. Himchan noticed a few other people had arrived and jumped when a loud clunk sounded from the back of the cab. Turning around, Himchan found he couldn't see Jongup anymore and that the huge load was now being attached to the cab. He could feel the weight of it pulling the cab down and really hoped Jongup knew how to drive the thing properly.

He did not want to end up like road kill.

Before he could worry about it too much, Jongup was back in the cab again and they were once again heading for LA.

It wasn't long before sunrise, that the lights and sounds of Los Angeles finally reached them and they cruised onto the main street, merging in with the early morning traffic. Himchan was dozing off when Jongup turned to him and asked him which way to go. "Follow Foothills Freeway to Pasadena," he instructed, "Just drop me off near the Carmelita Gardens. I can walk from there." Jongup opened his mouth to protest before Himchan added, "You won't get the truck through the backstreets." When the younger boy admitted defeat - albeit begrudingly - Himchan smiled at him gratefully. He wouldn't admit that he didn't want Jongup dropping him off outside his house, because that would make his already substantial problem even bigger than neccessary. He didn't want to have to stand for his parents scolding any longer than he needed to.

As the sun rose higher and the scenery began to become familiar, Himchan breathed a sigh of relief when the truck rolled to a slow stop on the road shoulder. Placing his belongings into his pockets, Himchan turned to Jongup and smiled, "Thanks for the ride, Jongup, you really didn't have to." The teen grinned and waved a hand nonchalantly, "It's fine man, really! I was headed this way anyway. Give me a buzz when Yongguk finishes your truck. I'll give you a ride out." Himchan rolled his eyes at the flirtatious tone and the obvious interest. "We'll see Jongup, now don't you have a route to truck?" Making a face, Jongup agreed and Himchan jumped out of the cab. As Jongup pulled away, Himchan waved before turning and walking away. Thankfully, Himchan didn't have too far to walk from where Jongup had set him down.

He walked for about 5 minutes, before he spotted his house and Himchan let out a sigh. The plain stone house was two storeys, with many grandeur features. It didn't really stand out from the surrounding houses, but the bright red ferrari 458 in the driveway was a little more telling. Walking up to his front door, Himchan raised a hand to knock - only to have the door open and his seething father standing before him. Himchan gulped and lowered his shaking hand.

"You've got explaining to do, young man."

TRANSLATION ;
“아이 수줍음, 안 그렇습니까?” -- Shy kid, isn't he?
“조금만." -- Just a bit.
"그의 몸 전체 비명 도시.” -- His whole body screams city.
“한국이 있습니까?” -- You speak Korean?
"당신은 말할 수 없다?” -- Can't you tell?
"뱅 용국, 상주 메카닉.” -- Bang Yongguk, resident mechanic.
"김힘찬.” -- Kim Himchan.