He’s useless, as always, during the beginning of his shift, doing everything but working, and generally as obnoxiously as possible. There is more reward in flicking day-old sliced fruit at Chansol’s head than there is at wiping down the tables he wiped down three hours ago, especially when there is a trainee and at least two other established wait staff to do it for him.
“No alcohol, remember? One kidney. Doctor’s orders.”
Though the content of his words is serious, perhaps genuinely life-or-death in nature, his tone is still playful, sing-songed, as if even a bullet through his vital organs and too much of his blood outside of his body is some kind of game. It’s how he copes, with how close he came to death, of how the hairline cracks of a heart starting to break hurt almost as much as bleeding out on The Crow’s Nest floor: humor, frivolity, a minimization of Death himself, as if it might take away his glaring powers of inevitability.
“You’re not going to get alcohol poisoning by touching a few bottles.”
She is annoyed with him, like always, he can see it on her perfectly painted face, hear it in her thinly veiled tone. She would probably threaten him with immaculately manicured fingernails if he hadn’t already nearly died in front of her, and if Jihoon weren’t feet away in some back room, counting cash and memorizing inventory. Perhaps he could get used to the collateral perks that came with his near death experience.
“That’s true,” he allows momentarily, a shit-eating grin splitting his face in half in anticipation of annoying her further, “but, if I lift anything too heavy, my wound could open up all over this squeaky clean floor and then you’ll have one less person to mop up my blood, pus, and guts from underneath table twenty-four.”
She makes a face at the vivid description, but shoves a pair of hefty unopened liquor bottles in each of his hands nonetheless.
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Okay,” Spencer concedes with a laugh, moving to assembly-line the bottle to a waiting Chansol by the bar, “but if I die, I’m haunting you first.”
when the bombs go off jeongguk isn’t quote surprised. it’s the basic surprise: the loud noises, the crumbling, but the event doesn’t surprise him at all. it’s myeongcho; there’s always some act of what is essentially terrorism at events full of many people. myeongcho’s gangs always want to make a statement. they have a flare for dramatics, especially hydrus (and lynx, sometimes.)
he was there because he expected it. as soon as he arrived, however, he regretted it, hair on the back of his neck always on end, surrounded by so many people. he knew half of them were likely gang members, sneaking in or openly invited in under the guise of individuals of high status. many gang members were. some were like him, however: kids in over their heads, average families, no preceding gang fortune, no right to be in a place like this. he didn’t see many of them here, but he didn’t doubt that some grew out from that place. jeongguk still feels like he doesn’t belong here, all done up, glitz and glamour. it’s like the masquerade ball he went to years ago with iseul, but better now.
even the bombs are better, in a way, at least for jeongguk, but maybe he’s just more prepared now. he isn’t such a child-- isn’t so full of fear, but there’s still apprehension. there were phoenix members here, and protocol is dead, but jeongguk isn’t. all he can hope is that most of them know him through a computer and communicator than in person, or that he’s grown up significantly since his time in the gang or-- something. still, he can’t help but think he could’ve done all of the security work he’s supposed to be here for remotely.
yet the building caves in, everything is dark, and maybe he can do more work here than he could back at the police station.
he, friendlier and more empathetic than he once was, finds someone injured, twisted ankle of a sort, and helps him find some place safe. he ends up bringing him to people that appear to be treating wounds. of course there are medical personnel here. doctors have to be rich from an island like this. he wonders if they actually want to clean up the violence on this island or if they actually bask in it and the money it makes them. then again, they may not be legitimate doctors and just work for gangs.
it’s only after looking at the woman helping for a long time that he recognizes her. seoah. he wouldn’t ever forget her name. it’s her that helped kill protocol-- that treated the gunshot wound jeongguk was content to die from, and helped him play it off like he had. he owed her much, and...he was back, essentially erasing all of the work she did for him. she catches his gaze, and he can’t help but bow to her, both in greeting to a woman older than him and apologetically.
Jongin sighed when he reached one of the waiters, relieved to have escaped the chatting with a boring couple. Having to socialize with people sometimes would be the worst part of his jobs if he wasn't good at pretending to be interested. Specially when people could be so dull.
He only noticed that a woman was reaching for the last glass on the tray as well when he already had it in his hand. "Oh." He said right before extending the drink to her. "I'm sorry, you can have it." Jongin smiled, genuine about giving up the beverage. "I was just looking for something to keep me busy." He mumbled a little bit closer to her, grinning just as he was telling a secret. He wouldn't say aloud for everyone to hear that he was bored, afterall, but it wasn't a sin to use it to start a conversation. Any information could be valuable in there.
who are your top three favorite people? top three least favorite people?
✧ ┊ honesty hour ┅┅┅┅ catching up on ancient memes ( mentioned: @miseoah @mixspencer @mibomin @babyxmi @mihyunjin )
jihoon isn’t really one to play favorites– at least this is what he claims. he’s supposed to be honest, so he knows it isn’t really true. he just knows so many people; sorting them is difficult, and yet names emerge anyway, but somehow, those are difficult to accept too. “do i have to rank them in order?” he asks. it would be an extra challenge, and jihoon never shies away from those. “i can do it in order.”
but can he? most of his top three is hard to admit– things he’d rather change his heart on or not talk about, lest of all honestly. the favorites will be much harder than the least, likely because some of his favorite people have so shaken him up lately– one in particular. one in particular would’ve previously earned the top place without contest, and he would’ve talked about him happily: bomin. now, however, bomin isn’t here; bomin is in hawaii, the place he ran away to, only telling jihoon in the day he was catching his plane. jihoon doesn’t know if he’ll ever come to terms with it, or ever be able to forgive him– both for leaving him after all the life they spent together, and for not thinking he deserved to know and prepare himself for the way his entire world would change.
he can’t say bomin is first anymore.
“seoah,” he says, and he grins, and this is sincere. she’s an easy choice– but is she an honest one? he thinks so. she’s close at the very least, so she’s the one he says. “seoah is like a good older sister. maybe other people may not think she’s good, because she’s not a conventional older sister, but i’m not a conventional guy,” he smiles again, teasingly this time. “she takes care of me in her own way– in a way that knows i don’t really need to be taken care of, but she just…offers support, always good conversation, and doesn’t treat me like a child like some of the staff that have watched me grow into my role do. she’s tough and she’s funny and she’s capable in everything she does,” his admiration and gratitude to her is clear, even when he doesn’t say it outright. “plus, she’s useful.” that medical background does always come in handy.
second is easy too, and easier to talk about than he wants him to be. jihoon stares off, thoughtful, lips quirking up in an involuntary smile. “spencer is second,” and he could probably be first, if he didn’t still want to take the easy way out– if he wanted to still deny his fondness for him, which he clearly still does. “spencer is– i don’t know,” he bursts out into a laugh. “he’s loud, and annoying, and playful and bold and funny, i guess, at all of the wrong times, intentionally. he really gets on my nerves but…” he trails off, suddenly troubled, but exaggeratedly so– a little staged. “i kind of like it,” and he grins.
“the way spencer cares about me is different. it might be different than the way anyone has ever cared about me. nobody has seen what he’s seen of me and been even more drawn to me. he’s fucked up,” another laugh, and he almost groans. “but i like that too. i like how he looks at me, and being his…gravitational pull.” he doesn’t know if it’s an appropriate analogy, but it’s what it feels like. he knows this isn’t about spencer anymore, but about jihoon, and what spencer gives him, but he also knows that’s why spencer is his second favorite person. he hums, trying to think of what else to say– where this favoritism stems from, but some things he just can’t explain. “he’s soft with me when i let him be, and affectionate too, and he’s so willing to just…do what i want, even if he pretends he’s not. he’s warm, and he has such an unarguably good heart, and it’s not that i’ve never had that, really, it’s just that i’ve never had that where i have spencer.” he might be able to keep talking about him, but he doesn’t want to. this is more than enough, and more than he thought he’d ever admit. “i…love all of that about him.”
that was unsettling enough; now he has to go onto the third favorite, which is the hardest choice, and the hardest admission. it’s the saddest too: this fall from grace, this hole in his heart. “third is bomin,” he says, and his hands ball up into fists. “he was…is…? was…my best friend. i was always afraid this would happen, but we always assured each other that it wouldn’t, and i still can’t really believe it did. i’m so mad at him.” he doesn’t know what to do without him. his vision starts to blur, and maybe it’s rage, or betrayal, or heartbreak, or all of it. “i’ll never forgive him,” it’s not fitting for a third favorite person, but maybe jihoon will never forgive him for how much he still cares about him, either. “i don’t know how he can still make it on this list,” and he rubs at his eyes. “but we’ve been through so much. i owe him so much. he knew me better than anyone, and supported me for so long, no matter what i did, even when i treated him like shit, and–” he chokes on his words and shakes his head. “i really miss him, but i hate that i do.”
he wishes he said his least favorite people first. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will away this emotion– these tears. he doesn’t know how to keep talking after this.
“my least favorite people,” he begins with a deep breath, reminding himself of the task at hand. “jisu is the worst,” and he’s the easy way out too. it’s easier to put him in first than think he might be any lower, but it is hard to think of anyone else to surpass him. “jisu ruined my life,” he says simply. it’s an exaggeration now, but his life is different. he’s had to make space, and make adjustments he never wanted to. “he changed it for the worse. everyone around me thinks he’s so cute, and are so glad he’s with us, blah blah blah, they love giving him attention and oh boy, does he love getting it.” they are brothers, after all. “jisu is a whiny ungrateful brat, and every time i look at him he’s crying or throwing a fit. my parents love him and are so happy he found us again but he’s weak and isn’t going to survive here.” he can’t think about jisu without thinking about execution day, and that gun held up to his head, and jihoon arriving just in time. he can’t help but think about jisu cowering, and how he comforted him, and as much as it supports his claim, it also invalidates everything he’s said, because he knows he would do the same again. he knows, that as much as he wishes jisu wasn’t in his life, he doesn’t ever want him to lose his.
“second is…” surely there are more people he dislikes. he pretends to be friendly, but surely he isn’t on that good of terms with everyone, right? his primary annoyance comes to mind then, and his eyes light up in joy at discovering who earns this position. “hyunjin,” he says easily. “hyunjin has been a lifelong annoyance and i can’t get away from him because our families are friends, so that makes it even worse. he’s my worst enemy.” he’ll leave it at that because he doesn’t really have that much worse to say about him. hyunjin infuriates him, and sometimes he hates him, but ultimately, they’re…friends, and jihoon knows it in his heart, even if he’d never admit it.
third hurts again, but he knows this one is true. “third is bomin too.”
16. what part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?
“my feet,” he answers a bit too easily for someone with his confidence, like he’s thought about it before. “feet are always kinda ugly, but mine are really bony and weirdly shaped. i don’t actually like to take my socks off to have sex. it’s a weird little thing, but you know,” he shrugs. “everyone has their insecurities.”
17. who are you most comfortable around?
“is it weird if i say seoah?” he laughs a bit at himself, rubbing the back of his neck. “i mean, i’m close with a few people in phoenix, but i’ve known seoah longer. sure, she thought i was dead for a while after i went kinda crazy and acted like i killed myself, and i didn’t know she had gotten involved in all this business, so we haven’t properly known each other for a few years, but she’s probably the one who knows me best. i don’t know if i’ve changed much since i last knew her, but i imagine i have. she probably has too, but it’s hard not to trust her after everything.”
“ who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? ”
depends on what you classify as deep ( & // he answers with a shrug. jihoon isn’t one known for depth. he is shallow, hyper-focused on what he shows on the surface, and he leaves the rest neglected. he doesn’t know how to deal with emotion– how he feels about things– the reality of who he is, at least not generally. he’s even less likely to say it out loud to anyone else. he bares his soul to few ) seoah. ( & // he answers after only a moment’s hesitation, smiling, though only briefly ) she’s a good bartender. it’s easy to trust her, and i think she trusts me too, which means we’re really friends. ( he laughs ) we just both talked about both of our past relationships, and why we thought they didn’t work out, seriously or otherwise. it wasn’t hard for me to talk about that, but on a deeper level…it was? like, when it came down to what i did wrong, it was hard to admit. most of the time it’s just me. ( someone else comes to mind, and he smiles again, both because of who he’ll name next and because he can change the subject ) there’s bomin too! he’s my roommate, and my best friend, so we talk a lot. a lot of times it’s dumb stuff, but sometimes it gets deeper, like if we both want to be lawyers ( they don’t ) or why we really do what we do, but i don’t know how deep it really is even then. it feels like we always keep it light somehow, and i think that’s why i like him. ( then again, now that he thinks about it...all of those times were mostly just him, with bomin staying quiet. the more he thinks about it the more it troubles him ) he thinks more than he says though, so a lot of times i have to talk for the both of us. he’s definitely the deeper one.
“have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?“
“stop staring at me and eat,” jaewon says, using his own chopsticks to indicate seoah’s hardly-touched plate. “i’m not going anywhere.” he takes another bite of rice, glancing back up at her as he chews. his eyes soften when he sees that she’s still staring at him, though she’s at least picked up her chopsticks now.
“look,” he says, and his tone is softer now as he leans forward, looking into her familiar face, which is somehow the same and yet all too different from when he saw her last. “i know it’s weird to suddenly see me again. i mean, you thought i was dead, right? i made sure everyone did.” he gives a wan smile at that, though there’s no humor or joy in it. “i’m really, really sorry for that.”
he looks away from her then, finally breaking eye contact as he leans back in the booth, the noise of the crow’s nest’s other customers filling the silence between them. their booth is fairly secluded, giving the illusion of privacy, and jaewon knows the servers probably won’t interrupt them, since seoah works there and can take care of herself and jaewon is such a regular that he’ll tip well with or without good service.
“so ask any questions you want, i guess,” he says with a would-be-casual shrug, picking up his chopsticks again and starting to pick around for the best bite of food. “but i wanna know what’s been happening for you, too. i’ve heard a little about sol, you know.”
he shifts his gaze from his nails, brows raising. “really?” seokmin asks, head tilted ever so slightly. “what was your initial image of me?”
does he really sound that different in person? she isn’t the first person that ever said that to him, which makes him wonder. never mind that he’s just there to pick up his documents. small talk never kills anyone, right?
“did you think i was taller? or smaller? or less handsome?” wiggles his eyebrows playfully to emphasize the last question. “you can be completely honest with me.”
