Chapter 1:

Kyungsoo transferred to Beijing on a hot day in July. The air was muggy and blurred by smog. Beads of sweat trailed down his pale face as he trekked through the airport parking lot. The driver who had at first tried to chitchat with him fell silent when he realized that Kyungsoo couldn’t understand.

Outer Beijing zipped past. Rows of trees, then shoddy old buildings on the verge of falling apart, and then finally, the opulent city center. The car screeched to a halt before the gate of a condominium complex. Kyungsoo thanked the driver quietly and lugged away his sole suitcase.

Walking through the complex, Kyungsoo wondered whether the sky was gray from the onset of evening or from asive pollution. He didn’t think much of the skies of Seoul when he was there, but he realized he missed them now. Old ladies in thin cotton shirts milled about on the hot cement, watching after raucous young children screaming from the swings. It was a familiar scene, it could be anywhere, but it wasn’t Seoul. Kyungsoo felt it in his bones. Even the small dogs seemed to bark in a different language. His sense of discomfort heightened. He pressed onward.

Building 11, Unit 401. The apartment was located in a quiet corner. Kyungsoo encountered no one on his way up—just himself and the elevator. He studied himself in the mirror and frowned. He felt that he looked unattractive. His nerves jittered.

At the door of Unit 401, he hesitated. Should he knock or should he just go in? The e-mail had told him to just let himself in, and indeed he had the key, but he felt somehow uncomfortable with that. He knocked.

Then he knocked again.

Nothing.

Reluctantly, he took out the key and let himself in.

The inside of the apartment was shrouded in the unlit darkness of dusk. Kyungsoo plodded quietly inside.

“Kris?” he queried tentatively into the still air.

The apartment responded with an eerie silence.

At eight pm, Beijing had finally darkened completely, but Unit 401 was now bathed in light. Kyungsoo sank into the sofa and watched the clock on the wall. He felt slightly more calm, now that he had put his things in order, not that he had much. The apartment was clean, if a tad empty. White walls, a large screen TV, an unused kitchen, a tidy bedroom. The bathroom came with two toothbrushes—one new—for which he felt grateful.

He wondered if he should cook something—didn’t Kris like his cooking?—but then became mired in self-doubt. What if Kris had already eaten? What if Kris wasn’t even coming home tonight? He wished his phone had reception, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. He should’ve borrowed the driver’s. Anxiety gnawed at his heart. The seconds ticked on.

Kyungsoo’s lids were just beginning to droop over his large eyes—a combination of exhaustion and nerves—when the front door slammed against the wall. Kyungsoo’s eyes popped open and he almost jumped up. In a few quick steps, he ran toward the front door, and there he was.

Blonde hair a little mussed, white shirt somewhat disheveled, enshrouded in the scent of alcohol, though it wasn’t overwhelming. He stood at the door, a giant in the frame, his beautiful eyes a little wide, his lips parted in surprise.

Kyungsoo stood just an arm’s reach away. He felt smaller than ever. Three months of emails and texts and FaceTime and now here he was, here they were, and he’s just not sure—

--Then suddenly, he’s encircled by long arms and his face is pressed snugly against a warm chest and he can hear their hearts beating in sync—thump thump thump—and he thinks to himself that he’s made the right decision after all.

“I’ve missed you.”

The uneasiness abates for the moment. It doesn't return until later. 

***TBC***