I landed in London on the seventh of September. This day was the longest day of my life.

My final night back home consisted of my mother crying quietly at the dinner table. It was awkward. I remember wanting to cry, too, because everything felt strange and yet I had to force myself to act like everything felt normal. That I’d be lounging lazily at the living room the morning after. That I wasn’t going to be leaving my family. That everything in the house would remain the same.

I didn’t want to let my parents realize that I was as frightened as they were. After all, the last thing I wanted was them to worry over me.

And so, I used the same technique Hanbin had used on me when he left. I made sure that our farewell was quick; that I wouldn’t show any sign of hurting; that I’d hide the fact that I felt like I was about to break right there and then.

“You’ll call us when you get there, okay?”

“I will, dad.”

“Make sure you’re eating the things your mother packed for you, and not just the noodles.”

“Okay, dad.”

“Be good to the landlords.”

“I know.”

“Make tons of friends.”

“I will.”

My father’s nagging carried on for what seemed like a long period of time. My father didn’t express himself very well; he hardly ever cried, and he never laughed easily. He was, essentially, the backbone of the family, the one that kept the rest of us strong. I got the understanding then, that my father’s nagging was his special way of saying ‘I love you’.

I’ll be okay, was the only expression I let my family see that night.

. . .

You’re not running away, are you, Hayi? Received 2:29am

I’m not. Sent 2:29am

I hope you’re not just saying that. But, somehow, I’m glad.
You know, you kept telling me that I’ve changed. Have you realised that you have, as well? Received 2:29am

I hope you mean it in a good way, Jiwon. Sent 2:30am

I do. How can I mean it in a bad way when our Hayi, who always used to blend in with the crowd and keep her thoughts to herself, is now flying over to London—on her own—in the next hour? Received 2:30am

We’ve changed so much in a course of a year. It’s weird. Sent 2:31am

Yeah, we have.
It’s funny because no matter how you look at it, even when everyone keeps changing, he hasn’t. He’s always been like this since we were little, you know. Always the consistent one. The one you can trust to stay the same even when everything’s changed. Maybe he gets a little wiser from time to time, but everything else about him remains the same. Received 2:31

Then, don’t you reckon that’s why he moved? To change? Sent 2:31am

I don’t know. All sort of things run through Hanbin’s mind—things that we cannot possibly fathom. I really do envy him, though. Received 2:32am

What for? Sent 2:32am

That’s a secret.
I have to go now. Get there safely, and keep in touch, Hayi. I mean it. Received 2:32

I will. Goodbye, Jiwon. I’ll really miss you. Sent 2:33

. . .

Using my parents’ money, I had arranged for myself to move into a boarding house somewhere in London. It was the same boarding house Jimin stayed in, and she recommended it to me since all of the boarders were—like us—exchange students. It was only a good ten minutes away from the university by train, and that was another benefit of living there. I e-mailed the landlord for a place, and luckily, there was a spare room since the girl who stayed there had already just graduated. I managed to organize everything within the space of only two weeks.

I guess it was a hell of a busy way to spend the remaining days of my summer, but the hard work came into effect very shortly. I was glad.

Jimin picked me up from the airport.

In real life, Park Jimin was shorter than I was, she had a very big, bright eyes, and she liked to smile every so often. She was very beautiful. But what stood out to me the most was that brilliant aura of hers. The warmth that she carried. It impressed me, how she talked in the same way I projected her voice out to be like in my mind, while talking to her online.

She helped me carry my luggage, and then we took the taxi to the boarding house. It was already dark when I arrived at the airport. Ten o’clock.

“We’ll explore the city tomorrow,” she explained. “We can get the older brothers to tag along with us!”

“Older brothers?”

“You’ll meet them when we get there! At first, they’ll look scary and intimidating but they’re not, so don’t be scared when you meet ‘em, alright?”

I chuckled. “Alright.”

“Are you feeling tired?”

“Not really. I slept for most of the journey.”

“Good,” she said, smiling.

London was a strange place. All cities were, in a matter of fact. The weather was terrible, dark clouds hung low across the land, yet the city and its people were still so alive. The lights illuminated all over the place. The streets were jam packed with people all the time, and amongst many of those were tourists. London was the opposite of the little town I was so used to. Heck, did we even have tourists.

Still, I missed that quiet little town. I missed it so much I wanted to cry. I missed it so much I had to stop and wonder where I’d gotten that homesickness from. To be honest, I had all sort of mixed emotions in me. I didn’t really know whether my heart wanted to jump out from the excitement of it all, or because I wanted to go home.

And then I wondered if Hanbin felt the same way when he left.

. . .

It was a short drive to the boarding house, maybe less than twenty minutes. The house was big compared to the other houses we’d come across. Unlike the other houses, which were joined wall by wall, it stood on its own and even had its own gate.

A fresh aroma of food greeted us when we entered the house. It was warm inside, despite the air outside being so cold. All of the boarders were downstairs, they looked as if they were waiting for our arrival. There was about six of them, around my age or a bit older, and a woman who seemed like the landlady. I felt awkward, because they all just sat there staring, as if they were observing me.

Seeing them sit so close to each other like that reminded me of a family. A really big family.

“Oh my,” the woman said. “A new family member!”

“Hello, ma’am,” I said, bowing towards her.

“Oh, please, call me aunt! We’re family members from now on, hm?”

I smiled back. She reminded me of my mother.

“Honey, England must seem really strange for you,” she added. “That’s how I felt when I came to this country. You’ll get used to it in no time! Our Kunpimook only came here two weeks ago, too. So you should get along well!”

“Aunt, Kunpimook’s from Thailand! How can they communicate?” A boy shouted in Korean, causing the other boys to laugh.

“Now, now, Jackson,” the woman replied. “Everyone here has gotten over the language barrier, right?”

Afterwards, everyone introduced themselves to me.

There was a boy called Jackson, who was three years older than me, he was humorous and he talked the most out of everyone; a boy called Mark, the oldest boarder in the house, who took architecture, whom like Jackson, spoke Korean fluently even though he wasn’t Korean; a boy called Kunpimook, from Thailand, who told me he’d prefer it if I called him Bambam instead. He was a first year, like me and Jimin, and he was studying engineering; a girl called Jennie, a Korean exchange student from New Zealand, who was taking the course of arts. Finally, a boy called Taehyun, who was two years above me, studying literature, as well.

“We’ll be sightseeing tomorrow, who wants to come?” Jimin said.

“I will!” echoed Mark and Jackson. Jimin just rolled her eyes in return.

“Why do I feel like I’ll be babysitting the two of you?”

Taehyun chuckled. “That’s exactly why I don’t want to come.”

“I can’t come, sorry Hayi!” said Jennie. “My classes start tomorrow.”

“How about you, Kunpimook?”

“Bambam!” he replied. “Call me Bambam!”

“Bambam.”

The boy nodded. “Yes,” was all he said.

. . .

After late dinner, we talked through the course of the night in the living room, while the landlady filled the coffee table with snacks and cans of beer. We talked a lot, but that night, the main subject was me. Mostly, they asked me questions like, “What course did you take?” and “How did you and Jimin know each other?” to which I responded with the answers I planned out beforehand. Then they shared stories about each other with me, as if they were trying to catch me up with the memories they’d had together.

“When Jennie was new here, all of us—including the old boarders—had to go looking for her outside the airport because she didn’t know how to call a taxi!” Jackson said.

“Hey! That was one time! Stop embarrassing me!”

“And we found her crying in the parking lot!” Mark added. Everybody laughed. It made me chuckle, as well. “Her makeup was running down her face. She looked like a clown!”

“Hey! Mark, you !”

It was weird, I guess, exchanging deep conversations and drinking beer with mere strangers—people whom I hardly knew, yet strangely enough, I felt less distant every hour that went past. Maybe this is what it felt like to fit in, I thought. I mean, maybe they were too loud sometimes, but they were genuine. And seeing all of them get along so well made me feel warm inside. So, in just the space of one night, I found myself wanting to get closer to these people.

They were the closest thing to what I had back home.

. . .

“Hey, mom, it must be morning over there. It’s past midnight here. I called just to tell you I got here safely. Everyone here is really nice, don’t worry. Bye. I love you.”

Beep.

There was knock outside my door, and I opened it to find Jimin on the other side. “Are you still unpacking?” she asked. “I’ll help you.”

“Thanks, Jimin.”

“It’s weird,” she said, emptying the bags and placing my books on the shelves. “Don’t you reckon? How we only met on the internet a few weeks ago and now here we are. Me unpacking your books for you.”

“It is damn weird,” I replied, smiling.

“So, how do you like it here, then?”

“They’re nice people. I think if I’m around them too much I’ll stop missing home, or something,” I joked.

Jimin chuckled. “That is partly true, though. Everything’s so different, right?”

“Yup.”

“Are you scared?”

“Absolutely.”

She smiled. “Miss your friends back home?”

“I only have two friends back home,” I replied. “Only two people I consider as my friends. But, of course. I miss them.”

“I think you talked about them in your posts. But, what were they like?” she asked, then a spark lit up in her eyes, as if she just remembered something. “Perhaps, are you referring to Hanbin?”

“He is one of them,” I nodded. “The kids here remind me of them sometimes. They’re loud and they express their thoughts often. Other than that, they’re an honest bunch.”

“You like him—that Hanbin boy, don’t you?”

It caught me by surprise. I cleared my throat, and asked, “I told you?”

All of a sudden, Jimin smirked. “You haven’t, actually. Not directly, anyway. The way you wrote about him, it was just kind of obvious. You like him, he likes you back.”

Silence.

“You’re lucky,” she added. “I think when you like someone and have them like you back—I think that sort of happening is a ing miracle.”

“Do you like anybody, Jimin?”

She tilted her head and looked at me with an amused smile. Then she gave a sharp, little nod. “You’ll figure out who it is soon enough. Hayi, when things get tough here, you just come to me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll leave you up to it, now,” she said. “Save your energy for tomorrow. Goodnight!”

“Hey, Jimin…”

“Hm?”

“When does the feeling of homesickness go away?”

Jimin looked at me, her eyes revealing a soft expression. “It will never go away completely. It can’t do that, but you learn how to handle it better as time goes on.”

. . .

Lying on my bed, I realized I was utterly worn out that night.

I thought about opening my laptop to see if Hanbin’s show was on, because I suddenly missed his voice, but I was too tired to even move. The thoughts that I carried were weighing me down too much, as if trying to drown me slowly.

It was always late at night, when everything and everyone else was quiet, that those kind of thoughts would rise like ghosts, soft and haunting, filling my mind until sleep finally came.

I came to realize that change was a strange thing.

I was comfortable with the people I’d just met, I was glad it was them, and I had a feeling that my friendship with those people would go a long way, yet there was still something obvious about the emptiness inside of me; I couldn’t even convince myself otherwise.

Everything was good enough, yet I still wanted to eat my mother’s homemade food. I still wanted to hear Chanhyuk’s muffled guitar playing in the next room. I still wanted to wake up to the sight of my father reading a newspaper in the kitchen. I still wanted to hear Soohyun’s voice. I still wanted to go back to the night at the forest with Jiwon and Hanbin.

I still wanted to go home.

. . .

atlas hands // when the stars are the only thing we share, will you be there?