Bonus Scenes: Phone Booth Epiphany
// Spoilers ahead. I recommend you read the full fic before the bonus scenes.
The Phone Booth Epiphany
When Seokjin enters an old phone booth in a lavender field, his world changes forever.
🌾 Rated E, 25K words 🌾 slow burn 🌾 warm slice of life 🌾 farmer jk, writer jin 🌾 fluff & smut 🌾 angst w/ happy ending 🌾 kinda magical
🔗 https://archiveofourown.org/works/33940855/
Trailer
Bonus Scenes
/// Spoilers Ahead ///
These bonus scenes are raw and unedited—a weird combo of storytelling, Q&A, and just dumping my thoughts. But I hope you enjoy them! Let’s get started!
Part I: Q&A
Did former visitors to the farm regain their memories of the village once the spell was broken?
Yes! As a recap: visitors to the farm lost their detailed memories about their stay after 1 year—when a new visitor arrived.
When the spell broke, memories of their stay were all recovered! As you can imagine, more than a few former visitors returned to the farm to explore once their memories returned (more on that later.)
Mrs. Ahn mentioned that Jeongguk had other lovers. Did everyone who visited the farm fall in love with Jeongguk?
Definitely not. In fact, Jeongguk was just a kid when the village first disappeared. Most of the people who visited were simply expecting a relaxing vacation, often with their families. They had a nice time, hopefully felt inspired to pursue their dreams, and went home. Seokjin falling in love was an anomaly, but an important one, because it’s what motivated him to figure out how to break the spell.
What was Seokjin’s greatest wish (that broke the spell), specifically?
Seokjin’s greatest wish was to write a children’s story inspired by someone he loved, and be able to read it to them.
How did Jeongguk's parents pass away?
[CW // minor character death.] I hesitate to include this, because it's dark and can bring the mood down. But if you like darkish themes: When the spell first trapped the villagers in a "bubble", Jeongguk's parents were one of the brave souls that attempted to test the boundaries of how far they could escape past the village's borders. Unfortunately, they discovered that any original residents (those under the curse) who tried to escape the village, were immediately vaporized upon touching the border. This is why you never see Jeongguk go beyond the Phone Booth, even when taking Seokjin to the bus stop.
Part II: About Jeongguk's Lovers
Before Seokjin, Jeongguk had two other lovers. Once you hear about them, it’s a little easier to understand why Jeongguk told Seokjin his greatest fear was “being forgotten”.
One of Jeongguk’s lovers was a businessman who visited just two years before Seokjin. Unfortunately, after he returned home and his letters went unanswered, the man took this as a sign that Jeongguk had simply moved on. He quickly got distracted with the demands of his corporation, and one year later, had no memory of his brief affair with Jeongguk.
Jeongguk’s first love, however, is a more interesting story. A case of young, summer love:
Jeongguk is 19 at the time, and a handsome, young college student visits the village with his parents. Jeongguk was not prepared for the ripple of nervousness that raced through his hands when he lays eyes on the young man’s dimples and soft smile. This was all new for him. Jeongguk keeps his anxiety at bay by helping around the farm, but Mrs. Ahn doesn’t miss the way he blushes and turns his face toward the ground when the young visitor is around. Or the way Jeongguk awkwardly shuffles his feet and plays with his hands when he talks to him as he reads on the porch.
Mrs. Ahn doesn’t want to be pushy, but she finds her chance to talk to Jeongguk one evening as she steps into the kitchen. He’s sitting in the corner, nervously pushing food around his bowl—a magic-8-ball of emotions playing out on his face.
It takes some gentle prodding, but eventually he cracks. “It feels weird sometimes. When he’s around,” he confides.
“Who, Jeongguk-ah?” Mrs. Ahn said as she glanced at him, trying to school her expression.
“…Namjoon-hyung.”
“Ahhh..” Mrs. Ahn says, holding back a knowing smile. “He’s nice, isn’t he?”
Jeongguk catches her eyes and nods shyly.
“So, what you’re feeling…would you call it a good weird, or a bad weird?” she asks.
Jeongguk thinks about this for a moment, staring at his food as if he’d find the answers among the grains of rice. “Feels like both. Like, sometimes it feels like my heart is racing, like it’s trying to work it’s way out and my chest isn’t big enough to hold it back.”
Mrs. Ahn hums.
“Other times he looks at me and I just wanna hide,” Jeongguk blushes, feet shuffling beneath the chair.
“Jeongguk-ah…” Mrs. Ahn chuckles. “sounds like maybe you have feelings for him? Do you think you like him?”
“Don’t know.” Jeongguk scrunches his nose, a little embarrassed.
“It’s okay not to know,” Mrs. Ahn assures him. “That’s half the fun, Jeongguk-ah. Discovering your feelings, finding out if he feels the same…”
“But he’s going to leave, isn’t he…” Jeongguk pouts.
Mrs. Ahn grows quiet. “It’s true, darling. He will leave. And there’s…there’s a good chance he won’t come back.”
“They never come back,” Jeongguk pouts.
Mrs. Ahn squeezes his hand. “Someday, Jeongguk-ah. Someday. Someone will come back for us.”
Jeongguk’s eyes get glassy as he keeps his eyes on his food.
She continues in a hushed tone. “We don’t know when we’ll be free, my dear, but here’s what I do know: love, Jeongguk-ah, is a gift. And contrary to the storybooks, it doesn’t last forever,” Mrs. Ahn says with a regretful cough. “It’s a mysterious door that, if you’re lucky, opens at least once in one’s lifetime,” she says softly.
“If that door opens for you, dear boy—and the person on the other side is worthy of your heart—you run. Run through it and don’t look back,” she says as she tucks a curl behind Jeongguk’s ear. “Sure, it may hurt down the road. You may have moments of regret. But embrace it. Feel everything life offers you, Jeongguk-ah.”
She brushes a tear from Jeongguk’s cheek.
“Love and pain—they’re twins, you see. They hold hands. Don’t reject one just to avoid the other, my dear.” She squeezes Jeongguk’s hand. “To love someone…is a rare thing. Nothing else in nature gets this opportunity. So if you see that door open, Jeongguk-ah…be brave.”
And so—he is.
Jeongguk and Namjoon have their first kiss on the porch two nights later, fingers tentatively linked, barely brushing as their legs hang from the swing.
Namjoon is Jeongguk’s first kiss. His first love. His first everything. Tender and kind, understanding of Jeongguk’s quiet nature.
Unfortunately, the inevitable happens and Namjoon has to return home with his family. They promise to write each other and Jeongguk holds his breath. Namjoon goes off to college in the States and writes Jeongguk as promised, but the letters never arrive. Namjoon is heartbroken, but one year later, his broken heart fully heals when his memory is wiped clean.
That is, until years later.
Namjoon is married, sitting on the couch, watching the news with his daughter climbing him like a tree. Jimin is sitting beside them, tucked under his arm.
A news story plays about a missing village returning, and Jeongguk’s face flashes on the screen, describing the history of the town to a local reporter.
In a single moment, it all comes back to him. The village. The kiss. Jeongguk.
Namjoon sits up, breathing heavily, looking at the screen.
Jimin turns to face him. “Joonie? Joon, are you okay?”
“I…” Namjoon grabs Jimin’s hand and squeezes. “…I think we need to talk.”
Namjoon knew he needed to return. Though his romantic feelings were far behind him, he needed to know he hadn’t imagined it all. Jimin, always understanding, held his hand the entire drive to the village.
Namjoon thought it would be awkward as he knocks on the farmhouse door, but the moment Jeongguk recognizes him and tackles him in a huge bear hug, he knows everything will be okay. As soon as Jeongguk lets go, he embraces Jimin and their little girl without explanation. Namjoon can see it on his face—the joy in knowing that someone you care about is happy and healthy.
The two families form an instant bond. Seokjin and Jimin turn out to be a chaotic pair—troublemakers that bring out the best in everyone around them. Jeongguk adores Jimin’s playful, affectionate nature, how he dotes on them all like he’s known them all for decades.
Needless to say, Nabi and their daughter become thick as thieves, and the two families become virtually inseparable.
Together, Jimin and Namjoon fall in love with the village, and with who they are when they’re there. Connected to the earth, connected to each other.
So eventually, after several visits and lots of late night, heart-to-heart talks, Namjoon and his family move to the village for good. He ultimately takes a job as “village security” (but he hopes once the media frenzy dies down, he can help more with the actual farming.) Namjoon’s heart is full. All those years ago, his soul told him the village was home. He just needed an unlikely path to get there.
As for Jeongguk—in a way, he feels as if he’s come full circle. With Namjoon, Jeongguk first learned to feel the warmth of love—to risk putting his heart close to the fire. And with Seokjin, he let the flames consume him.
Part III: What happened to Seokjin's letters?
Jeongguk knows he was never far from Seokjin’s mind during their time apart, but he doesn’t realize how painfully Seokjin pined for him until long after their reunion.
Seokjin admits to him that he did, in fact, write to Jeongguk as he promised. Jeongguk figures it’s a few letters. Maybe a dozen. He is not prepared for the giant crate of letters Seokjin hands him the day he finally moves in.
“This heavy thing…” Seokjin says as he hefts the large box into Jeongguk’s hands, “belongs to you, bun.”
“For me?”
“I wrote you every day, just like I promised.”
Jeongguk looks into the box, filled with stacks and stacks of envelopes.
He bursts into tears.
It’s a lot of letters, and Jeongguk soon finds that it can be emotionally heavy to read them, so he takes his time.
Maybe one per week.
Seokjin can always tell whenever Jeongguk has read another one, because he’ll come down the stairs in the morning and notice a new, miniature painting on the wall.
You see, Seokjin often described his memories in his letters, or things he encountered that Jeongguk or Nabi would’ve enjoyed.
So now, Jeongguk takes some of the things mentioned in the letters (like parks, or flowers, or animals Seokjin describes; or memories from their time together), and turns them into small paintings. He hangs them in the hallway, forming a timeline along the wall. So in some small way, the moments they were apart become tethered again. The story and the illustrator.
Seokjin’s favorite among them is a painting of the two of them, watching the fireflies.
Part IV: Nabi's Father
Jeongguk didn’t know much about Nabi’s father. No one did for that matter, not even Mrs. Ahn. The woman only knew that her daughter, Eunji, had a brief affair with a visitor.
Eunji assured her that it wasn’t anything serious. They were just friends.
So it’s a surprise, a year after the spell breaks, when Mrs. Ahn opens the door to her cottage to find a dashing young man, holding flowers nervously in his hand.
Mrs. Ahn’s eyes widen at what she sees.
His high cheekbones. His dimples. His heart-shaped smile. The elegant curve of his nose.
It’s Nabi. He looks like Nabi.
“I’m so sorry, I just, I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Hoseok…I saw the news and I—I just wanted to see if it was real. It was real…wasn’t it?”
The hours and days that follow are an avalanche of highs and lows. Hobi learns of Eunji’s fate. He meets her daughter, Nabi, and nearly crumbles at the way his heart swells.
He knows. They all do.
What follows are many tender conversations between Hoseok and the family. They learn more about each other. Hoseok is a dancer that spends his time traveling the world with his partner (also a dancer.) He never planned on or suspected he’d had a child.
Though they all agree on a paternity test, Hoseok makes it clear that he has no intention of taking Nabi from her home—from her family. “But I’d like to be part of it, if you all will accept me?” Hoseok asks tearfully.
Mrs. Ahn crosses the room and kisses his head. “My dear boy, you were part of this family before you even asked.”
The tests confirm their suspicions, so they set out to find a way to explain this to Nabi in a way she can understand.
An idea hits Seokjin late one night as he’s snuggled in bed. He untangles himself from Jeongguk’s arms and sits up to turn on the nightlight. He grabs a notebook from his bedside table.
Jeongguk groans at the loss of his favorite pillow. “Hyungphh…what’re you doin’, come back.”
“I gotta jot down an idea, Jeongguk-ah. ‘Gonna go sit at the desk. Go back to sleep, baby.”
“Noooooo,” Jeongguk whines as he holds Seokjin closer. “You’re so warm.”
Seokjin chuckles and pushes at him. “Okay then—roll over,”
“Huh?”
“Put that hard body to work, baby. You’re gonna be my desk,” Seokjin says as he gives Jeongguk’s thigh a few smacks.
“M’kay, hyung—” Jeongguk sleepily rolls over completely, laying on his stomach so Seokjin can rest the notebook on his back. Seokjin smiles as he feels his warmth radiate through the paper, pages rising and falling to the rhythm of the younger man’s gentle snoring.
The next morning, Seokjin shares his idea with Jeongguk, and the younger man’s face grows soft as he wraps his arms around Seokjin.
“Hyung, your mind is the prettiest place. This is perfect.”
A few days later, they’re sitting around the fireplace after dinner, and Hoseok is teaching Nabi a special “flower dance” where he lifts her into the air so her ‘petals can reach the sunshine’.
Nabi giggles as Hoseok lowers her to the ground and she eventually plops, exhausted, into Seokjin’s lap. She leans over and whispers to Jeongguk, sitting beside them, “Oppa, I like him very much.”
Jeongguk sees his chance.
“Stay right here, peanut,” he says as he exits the room and comes back with a large notepad in hand.
Jeongguk sits on the floor beside Nabi and leans into her side. “Nabi-yah…what if I told you that Hoseok is family too?”
Her eyes light up. “He is?”
Hoseok smiles and nods from the other side of the room, trying to give the two their space.
“He’s a special kind of family. Let me show you.”
He flips to a clean page on the pad and leans forward to draw. “You were a gift to us, weren’t you, Nabi-yah…”
“Yep!” she chirps.
“Okay, a gift from where?”
“From the stars!” she recalls from a tale Mrs. Ahn told her a long time ago.
“That’s right, smart girl!” Jeongguk says as he draws two tiny stars on the page.
“You see, a long time ago, Hoseok and your eomma each took a piece of their stars, and put them together to make a new star! That’s you, Nabi-yah. A little piece of Hoseok’s star is in you!” he smiles as he tickles her with the end of his pencil.
Nabi giggles and rubs her tummy, as if she can feel the star inside her.
Jeongguk continues drawing, “And the universe thought you were so beautiful, and so bright, that it sent even more stars to protect you. Your very own constellation.”
He draws three more dots on the paper. “This star is Halmeoni, this one is me, and this star is Seokjin-oppa.” Jeongguk then connects all the dots on the page, forming the shape of a heart.
Nabi lets out a delighted gasp and reaches out, placing her small hand inside the heart.
“So you see, these stars will always be your family—will always be there to love you, our most precious star-baby,” he ruffles her hair. “Do you understand?”
She looks at Hoseok and crinkles her nose as she smiles. Hoseok’s smile mirrors her own, and Jeongguk’s heart melts.
“It’s okay if you want to take some time to think about it, peanut—”
“It’s wrong…” she interrupts, matter-of-factly.
“It’s…wrong?” Jeongguk says, pulse racing.
“Where is Yoongi-oppa? Where is Tae-oppa?”
The room fills with silent joy and relief. “Nabi-yah, you’re right!”
Jeongguk says as he adds two more stars to the page.
“And what about Namjoon-oppa and Jimin-oppa and— ?”
“Okay! Okay! Two more stars, coming up!” Jeongguk giggles and lifts the pad up. “See peanut? Look at all these stars! Whenever you look at the night sky, I want you to see them and remember all the little lights sent to love you, okay, baby?”
Jeongguk can’t help but tear up as he says it. Nabi can’t help but notice.
“Okay, oppa,” she whispers and bonks her head against his. “Are you sad?”
“No, peanut,” he says as he pulls her onto his lap.
“Then why do you have tears?” she says as he looks up at him.
“They’re not tears, peanut,” Seokjin says as he leans into Jeongguk’s side. “Just a little stardust.”
Part V: What kind of parents are Jinkook?
i’m obsessed with the idea of Jeongguk being the “super responsible” parent, and Seokjin the CEO of spoiling Nabi rotten.
For example:
Seokjin takes the family out for a fun day at the park. Nabi tugs on his sleeve and asks for a treat, but Jeongguk is like “Okay, Peanut—but only something small, we don’t wanna spoil dinner.”
Six minutes later, Seokjin comes back with this:
Jeongguk protests but Seokjin comes prepared with his Premium Pout and Jeongguk is fucking weak.
So Jeongguk sighs and looks down to Nabi, whose eyes are suddenly full of stars, softly blinking as she pouts her bottom lip like a little jelly bean.
Jeongguk scoffs and turns to Seokjin.
“WHO taught her that—did you teach her that?!”
Seokjin just grins and hands each of them a fork.
They eat it all, of course.
—————
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