with: @kkotgilman
jiho had gotten rid of his car a long time ago.
he had one for awhile when he was around twenty-five, a little nissan whatever-the-fuck from a year with a two and two zeroes in it. it was nice for awhile, usually only leaving the house at odd hours anyways, the streets relatively empty when he drove, but he had ultimately decided that it shook way too much at speeds over sixty and was costing him too much money and had gotten rid of it, damning himself to a life of subways, trains, and walking. it wasn’t all bad, the time before boarding used for wandering off and chain-smoking, buying drinks he didn’t need and useless knickknacks from nearby stores, likely spending way more money than gas could ever cost in total but overall feeling more mentally sound for it. fresh air and all that, right? and if you counted awkwardly smiling at strangers and holding the door for old ladies as social interaction he supposed that it was filling a void there as well.
he stepped on the train as usual, the aftermath of a coffee shop stop revealed in hands enclosed around a to-go cup and a bag that contained a pastry he was likely only going to eat half of, legs leading him to an open double seat parallel another open seat, shifting back and leaning into the decently-uncomfortable booth and preparing for what was meant to be a short trip.
more people boarded, other seats filling, and he occupied himself on his phone, scrolling through the same four apps over and over again to avoid looking too lonely in public ( he usually finds comfort being out by himself, but trains tended to do an especially good job of making him feel like a loser ) when it started moving. a few minutes passed uneventfully, everything seemingly smooth when suddenly there was a jolt and a screeching metal noise, grating and, quite frankly, frightening.
jiho blinked up from his phone behind wide-rimmed glasses, listening as the intercom announced that there’s a technical difficulty and everyone has to remain seated for up to, holy fuck, three hours.
he stares off into space a moment, processing that information, before he turns his gaze and locks eyes with the person sat across from him and says,
“ well, shit. ”
