@mellowdisco summons JONGHUN in a closed starter of a plot they know!
time did not care for backgrounds, money or loyalty, it went on and on carelessly every day, cruel to those who felt as they were running out of it. jonghun remembered his partner, before he worked all alone, how she looked at him and said that people who met him died. he knew it yet, it never changed that he held a certain belief they made their own doom, they chose to lend money from people they should not. just like his parents decided his life was worth little and how he went on this road, one he never could go back from. one could debate if he was as outstanding as his job of tracking down those indebted without them even knowing because he was extraordinary in levels of intelligent or skill or if it was because he had no believe in the society he was blending in. the life of a dance teacher who did not have to worry about this also helped, to escape into a world simple and plain.
jonghun never forgot faces, they easily burnt into his mind as riding a bike did for others and if there was a connection, he’d recognize them even in the middle of crowds. in this case, it felt much more simplified than the infamous scene where the other was crossing the street and did not regnoize as they walked passed one another. there was no expectation for the other to remember him at all, after all it had been good ten years. one also learned that just like in movies, most sweet childhood friendships fell apart, that the time came where the promised letters never arrived anymore.
he tried to remember if they had any ambitious dreams back then but no, jonghun’s family was dirt and poor back then, it was always known that he never would be able to go and study. they never spoke of their families or why their lives felt strange in comparison to their fellow students as whenever together, they were just like every other student. jonghun moved a few times for his job but he settled the past few years, he was an employee of one of the many dancing schools for three years now with a small comfy apartment. all the money he made with his secondary job was invested and placed calculated, to come in once the time was right and more reasonable excuses how he came to wealth could be done.
well, jonghun maybe was a little better dressed but then, many men his age spent more money on their wardrobe than their dinner. what had become out of abel? that was something he wondered, not frequently but here and then. just another guy in his late 20s sitting in a coffee shop it seemed, miles away from the place they both once lived. ‘you still got that selfie face, probably even more now where cameras take 4k pictures,’ jonghun dropped down at the free chair on the table, his bag rested next to him now, a teasing, almost mocking smile on his lips. ‘and you probably know how to use it,’ just guessing but why not? people loved social media. he did too but he never postred pics of his face, just from everything music related.