A firm advocate of keeping separate personas for work and home, Yeseul is both the successful associate editor of Han Weekly and the frazzled owner of a highly strung cat. When a younger man moves in next door to her crammed-neighborhood villa then...
"If you can't fly, then run... If you can't run, then walk."
BTS < Not Today >
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The next day, Jungkook misses the chance to greet his neighbor, setting off from his villa apartment just a few minutes after seven in the morning.
The morning sun bathes on his lean body, his thin-waist figure visible for the first time outside of his usually big, baggy clothes. Clad in a simple white buttoned-up shirt, a pair of black slacks, and a pair of black formal shoes, the tall and broad-shouldered man turns heads of passersby as he makes his way towards the bus stop.
Jungkook puts on his earphones as he descends the hilly slope, looking away from unfamiliar gazes. The piercing stares and silent murmurs of high school kids is uncomfortable. Hands in his pockets, he vows to grow out the length of his hair, wishing that his eyes and ears were shielded.
Aboard bus 613, Jungkook stands with his hand gripped onto the grab handle, making do with a tight vacant spot between the inward gliding doors of the entrance and the exit. Looking away from the uninspiring faces of office workers plugged with earphone buds, he fixes his eyes on the tall window. The trees on the roadside are green and lush, the skies blue and clouds billowy. Summer is all around him, and he hopes that this season doesn't passes him by insignificantly.
With every turn of the road, he watches as the width of the roads expand as the pinnacle of each new building outgrow the previous. The concrete jungle overwhelms Jungkook's sight, who once equated Seoul to the mirror-walled and musically-charged dance studios. This pavement which he has yet to embark on makes him indescribably small, but Jungkook clenches his teeth nonetheless.
A undeniably cute, although sheepish, cheer from the woman next door reminds him that not all hope is lost.
"Hwaiting."
His heart pounds, despite having little to do with the pumping of his adrenaline.
The rest of his forty-five minutes of commuting passes by in a blur. Being one of the last white-collared passengers to step out of the bus, Jungkook cranes his neck when he sees the magnificently tall skyscraper before him. Herds of office workers pass him by on his left and on his right. They look like aggressive fishes swimming upstream. Swallowing hardly, he picks up his lagging footsteps, clutching on to the wide strap of his crossbody manbag.
Jungkook passes through the revolving door of the building, eyes continuously roaming his surroundings. The large, glass chandelier hanging from the middle of the heightened ceiling, the sparkling tiled walls and marble floor - is this an office lobby or a make-believe palace? Composing himself, he walks towards the front desk, where a standing kiosk flashes the following in big, thick fonts:
