Hongjoong hates the rain, especially in Seoul.
It's not refreshing like the rain in Jinju and if it accidentally falls in your mouth it tastes like metal and smog.
Unfortunately for him, the wet season has come and more often than not, he's caught in a downpour waiting for the next bus.
If he didn't love his job so damn much, he would move back home, probably take up the farm and spend his days doing what he was always meant to do, but just the thought of it churns his stomach.
He could never go back.
Not after Seongie.
The bus is on time gratefully, and Hongjoong takes a seat and watches the streets of Seoul go by, wishing he could bottle moments like these, moments where he could get lost in the mundane pattern of life and lose the chaotic thoughts in his head.
It's one of the better qualities of the busy city; Hongjoong has never been without distraction for the last three years that he's been here.
His stop arrives, and he disembarks from the vehicle, pulling his umbrella closer to his body as he winds through pedestrians to arrive at his workplace for the day.
He likes this particular client, an old man who is dying of lung disease from too many years of intensive smoking.
Though a little gruff, he's jolly and quick-witted and seems to like Hongjoong a lot.
It always makes it easier if the patients are fond of him.
When he gets to the proper floor, Hongjoong knocks twice as usual, hiking his bag over his shoulder.
He stands in the hallway for a few moments, adjusting his scrubs and noticing that the walls have a new coat of paint.
The door opens then, the old man's daughter, Soojin, greeting him with a tense smile.
"Ah, Hongjoong-ah. Did you not get my message?"
Hongjoong frowns at this, pulling out his phone to see three missed calls.
"I'm sorry, noona. I guess I had the volume off," he explains. "Is everything ok?"
Soojin casts her gaze to the ground at this, worrying her hands.
"Appa passed away this morning. Hyejin found him. It happened in his sleep."
Stunned, Hongjoong clasps a hand over his mouth.
Of course, news like this was to be expected eventually, but he has never had one of his patients pass away in his care.
He had always been contracted out to another family before tragedy struck and this time it hurts far worse just knowing the man so intimately for many months.
Being a home healthcare nurse was difficult in many ways, but this is by far the hardest thing Hongjoong has ever had to deal with, and that's saying a lot, because he's lost someone before.
"Noona, I'm so sorry," he says quickly, hoping that he's not being rude in anyway. "I should've looked at my phone—"
"Hongjoong-ah, please don't worry," Soojin assures, taking his hand in hers.
"He loves you like a son and you were a blessing to our family. I'm happy that my father was so well taken care of in his final days. You're an angel, Hongjoong-ah."
Hongjoong blushes at this, batting away the compliment.
He smiles at Soojin, but then it quickly dissolves into tears and he lets the woman hug him through it.
She cries too, still fresh with memories, and Hongjoong hates that she has to go through this because he knows exactly what it feels like to not get to say goodbye.
It hurts worse than any physical pain and it sticks with you through a thousand lifetimes, through thousands of bus rides and lonely meals.
Pulling back, Soojin pats Hongjoong on the cheek.
"I've already called your agency and let them know, so I guess you'll be reassigned to another family? You'll be a blessing to them too, I'm sure."
"I guess I will, though I'll miss you and your sister, and of course, your father," Hongjoong admits, wiping at the corners of his eyes. "He's my favorite patient."
Soojin grins at this, something sweet and genuine and then they're saying their awkward goodbyes and Hongjoong tries not to linger in order to let her grieve.
Once he's in the lobby of the apartment building, he finds a bench to sit on before checking his email.
Most likely, he's already been contacted by the Seoul branch of his home-health agency and the secretary, a sweet woman named Eunri, has given him some new contract options to look over.
He's only had one patient for the last six months, so his schedule is wide open.
The email is sitting there in his inbox with a tagline that reads The perfect contract for you, Hongjoong-ah!, and he opens it, wondering why she only sent one possible contract.
She always sends at least five, sometimes a dozen, because nurses must be choosy when picking patients to bond with and care for.
Not every contract works out for either party.
When he glances at the attached pdf document, Hongjoong scrunches his eyes in confusion.
Surely this offer was fake?
No one could be offering that much of a salary for two months of home healthcare.
Maybe the patient was extremely terminal...
Checking the details, he's shocked to discover that the patient is a twenty-five-year-old disabled man who's confined to a wheelchair.
He needs daily care such as bathing, grooming, meal assistance, and occasional mobility assistance, which are easy enough for someone like Hongjoong.
So why was the offered pay so exorbitant?
At the bottom of the document is the contact information, and Hongjoong immediately dials the phone number, curious about the contract.
"Hello?"
Hongjoong clears his throat and wipes his sweaty hand on his scrub pants.
"May I speak with Jung Wooyoung? My name is Kim Hongjoong and I'm with Yeongwonhi Home Healthcare. I've been matched with your case and I was calling about the details of the job offer."
"Yes! That's me. I'm Wooyoung. Thank you so much for calling!" The man laughs then, smooth and tinkling, and Hongjoong gets the feeling that they're very close in age.
"Are you the patient?"
Wooyoung hums on the other end of the line.
"Oh no, I'm his current caregiver, but I need to go home for a few months to take care of my mother. She's been sick for awhile and my siblings and I are making arrangements with my father."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Hongjoong laments.
So that explains the short duration, but the issue of the salary is still a mystery.
"So you intend to come back to care for the patient?"
"Yes, but I'm not a healthcare professional. I'm his childhood friend," Wooyoung admits, his voice noticeably less cheery at this topic.
"He was involved in a car accident about four years ago. His pelvis and torso were pinned in the wreckage and he was paralyzed from the waist down. His other injuries weren't as severe, thankfully, but I'm really the only person he has in his life, so I've been responsible for him ever since."
Swallowing down a sour tang of sorrow, Hongjoong hums in reply.
This patient's story hits home a little too hard, makes him remember a sweet girl whose family didn't care for her, who Hongjoong had to be there for when things got hard, when the doctors told Seongie that treatment wasn't working and that the thing growing inside her brain was going to claim her life.
In this moment, Hongjoong appreciates the stranger named Wooyoung, because he knows what it's like to be the only person counted on in the gravest of situations.
"That's.... That's really kind of you, to take care of him," Hongjoong finally replies, squirming on the bench.
He's nervous now, anxiety set off by the memory of his past, of her.
Wooyoung laughs on the other end of the line.
"Trust me, you can't help but love him after you get to know him. There's a reason why we've been friends for over ten years. But I guess that will be for you to judge? We would like to have dinner with you to discuss the offer if that's ok with you."
"That sounds great actually," Hongjoong admits, his mood lifting just a bit by the mere thought.
He's had to agree to contracts before without getting to see the patient firsthand, and it's difficult to do your job to the best of your ability when you stumble in blindly.
"I was hoping to meet him first since he'll be a unique case for me. I'm really only used to elderly or terminal patients. I've never dealt with someone this young."
"I'm aware," Wooyoung admits with mirth.
He chuckles a little, a breathy thing that sounds juvenile but endearing.
"When the agency forwarded the resumes, I decided on you because the patient is.... unique, as you said. He's— Well, he can be stubborn and very determined but it's mostly a good thing. I think it will be interesting for the both of you and he needs a change of pace, to be honest."
Hongjoong cocks a brow at that, readjusting the grip on his phone.
"Stubborn? No offense, but that doesn't bode well for me in my line of work." He chuckles a little just to let the other man know that it's in jest.
Laughing, Wooyoung shifts around, and Hongjoong swears he hears someone shouting in the background, high-pitched and whiny.
"Stubborn in a good way, I promise. For example, he was completely paralyzed from the waist down after the accident, but once we found a physical therapist he liked, he's been working very hard to gain back his mobility. Right now, he's regained feeling in his pelvis all the way down to the tops of his thighs. Doctors said it was because of his determination."
"Wow, that's impressive," Hongjoong admits, genuinely surprised.
He's not an expert on spinal injuries or nerve damage, but he feels like the feat of this patient is quite extraordinary.
Maybe he will enjoy working with the young man.
"It is," Wooyoung chirps like a proud mother and Hongjoong can't help but smile at the fondness in the other man's voice.
The patient is lucky to have someone so kind take care of him.
Hopefully Hongjoong won't be a disappointment in Wooyoung's absence.
"So, I know this is sudden, but I leave for home in a week and I want to have things in order. Is it possible to meet for dinner tonight? We would like to host you at the house, you know, so the patient is comfortable. He's not exactly fond of meeting new people, especially in this context. I hope you understand."
Hongjoong sucks in a breath before moving his phone away from his ear to check the time.
He's got a whole day ahead of him now due to his last patient's passing, but he still has to get the proper documents ready for his prospective patient to look over— liability insurance, contract requirements, medical documentation, background check, etc.
It would be difficult to do, but he could get the job done if he headed straight home now.
"Sure," he finds himself agreeing, settling back against the bench.
"Wonderful!" Wooyoung cheers and he seems genuinely excited, perhaps because he's that much closer to hiring someone to replace him, but Hongjoong wants to think it's because the man really is looking forward to meeting him.
"I'll text you the address. We will expect you around six. Is that ok?"
"Works for me. Thank you, Wooyoung-ssi."
"Oh please, no need to be so formal. I'm young, you sound young, and you may be working with us soon. Am I correct in assuming you might be in your early twenties?" Wooyoung sounds cautious, like he doesn't want to offend, and this makes Hongjoong giggle.
"I'm twenty-one," he tells his potential employer.
"I'm twenty-three, so that makes me your hyung," Wooyoung teases with a light chuckle.
The man really is friendly and so very warm.
Hongjoong finds himself relaxing despite the heavy morning.
"See you at six, Hongjoong-ah?"
"See you at six, Wooyoung-hyung."
It's possibly the most perplexing phone call Hongjoong has ever had, but it leaves something behind that lingers in his head the rest of the day and it's only when he's in a taxi heading towards the potential client's house that he realizes what the feeling is— anticipation.
He hasn't felt anything close to that in nearly three years.
__
The address Wooyoung gave him must be wrong.
It has to be.
Because there is no way his potential patient lives in this monstrosity of an apartment building in Gangnam-gu, with manicured plants and shiny marble floors covering every square inch of the lobby.
"Can I help you?" a woman behind the counter asks, displaying a white smile with small teeth.
Hongjoong manages to stop gawking long enough to answer.
He's dressed nicer than his normal attire, which is his work scrubs, but he suddenly feels far too casual for a place like this.
"Um, I'm looking for apartment 1102. A Mr. Park?"
The woman nods, pointing towards the elevators.
"Yes, we were told to expect you. The penthouse is on floor eleven, just take the elevator to the proper floor. Have a nice day."
"Thank you." Hongjoong bows slightly, still dazed by the fact that this is indeed the correct address before doing as instructed.
The elevator ride is long— long enough to let his thoughts run a little wild.
This is possibly the richest patient he's had since he got out of medical school.
Not that it makes a difference, but the other home-health workers always said that there was a huge difference between clients that had close to nothing and those that had too much.
One considered the nurses as their helpers, their aids in desperate times of need, and the other half saw them as glorified servants.
Hongjoong bristles at this thought.
He's never done well with being treated poorly or looked down upon.
He suddenly has a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he shakes it off, recalling Wooyoung's warm mannerism and easygoing demeanor.
If the patient was anything like that man, then Hongjoong would be fine.
Everything would be fine.
The elevator dings, coming to a complete stop and opening to a small hallway with only one door.
It looks as if it's made of polished cherry wood and gilded with gold accents.
There's a small button on the side and Hongjoong swallows down his anxiety, clutching the folder of documents in one hand as he presses the button with the other.
The chime of tinkling bells resounds and not a minute later, the door swings open to reveal a short man with silvery hair and slightly droopy eyes.
He smiles so wide that Hongjoong instantly knows who he's looking at.
"You must be Wooyoung-hyung."
"Ooh, what gave it away?" Wooyoung teases, his voice light and airy.
His eyes sparkle and Hongjoong can't help but smile back.
"You're obviously Hongjoong-ah, but you look.... different than I imagined."
Grimacing, Hongjoong tries his best not to look affected by the statement.
He knows he looks quirky with his yellowing bleached hair, his strong, nearly black brows, and the ever-present tint of cherry lip balm on his mouth, but he's grown used to the stares.
Especially when he puts his hair in a little ponytail or when he decides to wear his favorite knock-off designer shirts.
Tonight though, he just has on a pair of fitted black pants and a blue button-down, but somehow something unmistakably him always manages to filter through.
Before he can reply though, Wooyoung breaks out into another grin that causes his eyes to crinkle up into little half-moons, nearly disappearing.
"I love it!" he exclaims. "I really like your hair too. It's like a baby mullet but you actually pull it off nicely."
"Thank you," Hongjoong manages to say, just as Wooyoung grabs his wrist and pulls him inside, softly shutting the door behind them.
He tries to focus on taking off his shoes and placing them on the mat near the door, but his eyes keep wandering to the penthouse in front of him.
Holy fuck.
The entire place looks so chic, so completely modern in muted shades of blue, grey, and white with strong accents of black.
There's a black leather sectional sofa in the living room with a massive tv hung on the wall above a waterfall that seems to cascade into the stone floor.
An earthy smell clings to the air, and Hongjoong notices an array of large potted plants and small trees near the corner of the space, all framing a massive grand piano.
As he moves further into the penthouse, lead by Wooyoung who is talking about tonight's meal, Hongjoong notices that there is a second level to the place, but beside a set of stairs, there's a ramp that leads upwards as well as what looks like a chair lift off to the side, built into the wall.
He supposes that's how the patient manages to get around his home.
"Anyways, Yeosang prepared a delicious meal for us and he hopes you enjoy it," Wooyoung is saying, just as they round the corner into an opulent dining room with a polished wooden table already set for guests.
"He's our chef, but he owns a restaurant downtown, so he had to leave to take care of business there. Hopefully you can meet him another time, yeah?"
"Sounds great," Hongjoong breathes out as he takes the seat offered to him by Wooyoung.
He stares down at the fine china plates and gleaming silverware, unsure of what his next action should be.
Wooyoung has disappeared through the doorway but he promptly comes back with three crystal glasses and a bottle of wine.
"Seonghwa-hyung will be joining us soon. He takes forever to get ready. We don't get many guests."
"Seonghwa?" Hongjoong questions as he takes a glass full of deep merlot from his host.
"Right, I haven't told you his name," Wooyoung muses. "I did that for a reason. The patient is Park Seonghwa."
Hongjoong feels like a strange, weighted tension has settled over the room and Wooyoung is looking at him expectantly, like he's gauging the nurse's reaction.
"Should I know who that is? I don't mean to sound rude but—"
"You don't know who Park Seonghwa is?" Wooyoung sputters, nearly spilling the wine he's pouring.
He sets the bottle down and leans over the table with narrowed eyes.
Hongjoong can only stare back, eyes wide and unblinking.
"Oh my god, you really don't have any idea do you? Well, that actually makes you a great candidate."
"Is he famous or something?" Hongjoong takes a sip of his wine, trying to still his shaking hands. He feels like he's missed something very important.
Wooyoung laughs at that, waving his hand around dismissively.
"Well, he's not famous like an idol or actor, but he's heir to Park Incorporated, you know, one of Seoul's biggest tech companies?"
Hongjoong blinks.
"Uh, I don't really read the papers and I just stream dramas on tv."
Wooyoung blinks.
The atmosphere becomes unbelievably thick, the only sound that of the large clock on the wall ticking away.
"Oh my god," Wooyoung exclaims once again. "You're perfect."
The man isn't being sarcastic; Wooyoung is actually beaming as he finishes pouring the wine, his silver hair falling over his forehead.
Swirling his wine around, Hongjoong tries his best to appear collected, but inside he's completely bewildered.
So it seems that his client is not only rich, but is one of the richest men in the city, and Hongjoong of all people has been offered a contract to care for him for two months.
A contract worth a lot of money, which makes sense given the man's financial status, but something isn't clicking for him.
"Wooyoung-hyung," he begins, still getting used to the casual way the other wants to be addressed, "I don't mean to be rude, but why is the salary for this position so high? It's only for two months, right?"
Wooyoung pauses, his hand hovering over a wine glass.
"Oh? It's too much? I thought the pay was comparable to similar contracts...."
With narrowed eyes, Hongjoong watches his host struggle to situate the wine on the table.
His posture is stiff but he's trying to appear nonchalant and the entire act doesn't sit well with him.
It makes him anxious and unsettled, which is not a good start to a working relationship.
"You can tell me the truth," he says after awhile, voice purposefully soft as to not offend Wooyoung.
"Well," Wooyoung bites his lip and looks over to Hongjoong with apprehension.
"The position is a live-in position. I didn't mention that in the query because I didn't want someone who was just looking for a place to crash for a few months, you know?"
Hongjoong supposes he understands, especially given the salary involved and who the client is.
"You wanted someone who was serious about the job rather than the accommodations," he observes.
"Yes!" Wooyoung seems genuinely relieved at the acknowledgement, his smile returning.
"This dinner is to get a feel for you before anything is signed, but I already like you so much. The secretary at the agency was right— you seem like a really sweet person, the kind of guy you want caring for you."
Blushing, Hongjoong takes a sip of his wine.
"Well, thank you. I feel like we've hit off pretty well so far," he admits. "I hope the patient likes me as much as you."
Wooyoung giggles, hiding his mouth behind his hand.
"I have a good feeling about you and Seonghwa-hyung. I was worried that we would find someone that would be too concerned about his wealth, but you have absolutely no idea... amazing..."
"What's amazing?" comes a gruff voice from the doorway, but Hongjoong can't see anything past the archway.
He figures it's his prospective patient, so he stands at attention, making his way around the table until he sees Wooyoung leaning over to whisper into the man's ear.
He still can't see anything beyond Wooyoung's back, just the wheelchair and a set of very petite legs resting lightly on the footrest, clad in black pants and shiny dress shoes.
Wooyoung giggles some more and moves away, revealing the patient and Hongjoong feels like all the air in his lungs has evaporated.
The man in the wheelchair is just as young as described, but he's nothing like what Hongjoong could've possibly imagined.
Because sitting there, tucked into himself, is a man with a face so familiar that Hongjoong feels tears well up in the corners of his stinging eyes.
This stranger wears the face of his first and only love.
This Seonghwa looks remarkably like Seongie— albeit a little older with cropped hair— but he's so reminiscent of her that Hongjoong can still taste his girlfriend's lips, feel her weak hand squeeze his on top of the hospital sheets, and see those eyes flutter as her veins were flushed with chemo drugs.
He stares and stares, and the only thing that rips his mind away from the past is the present sound of his wine glass shattering on the ground.