It was eleven at night, definitely your bedtime during normal days, of when you usually already curled up comfortably in your bed while surfing through the internet before sleep fetched you away.
Tonight was certainly wasn't the ordinary one, when you stood inside the hospital emergency room, still clad in your working suit, you didn't even have the chance to go home first.
You were on your way home when you got a call from the nightshift manager.
Mr. Johnson got a heart attack, one that rendered him unconcious.
Since they couldn't speak in Balinese nor Indonesian, you had to accompany them to make sure they could get the right treatment in timely manner.
Not that your Indonesian was good anyway, it has been only almost four months since you arrived, but you understood some of the basic conversation.
Standing inside the emergency room, you watched as two nurses and a doctor on duty tried to put his heartbeat to normal.
"Unstable, charge again."
The nurse put the paddle back for the second time on the white patches adhered to his chest, and started counting before recharged the defibrillator.
"One, two, three...charge!"
Mr. Johnson's chest jerked once, and they looked at the erratic rhythmic of the lines on the monitor.
"Not enough, again."
Looking at their wary faces, even your heart also beating fast knowing that anytime a life might slipped through their fingers.
Being a doctor or nurse certainly wasn't an easy job.
Mrs. Johnson's sobs were now louder and she started to wail, you had to keep rubbing her back to calm her down.
It was on the fifth attempt they finally got the desired heart rate on the monitor, you could see relief washed over their face.
Mrs. Johnson was now standing next to the bed, kept wiping her tears with tissue.
You patted her back in a consoling manner, trying to calm her down, although you didn't know the prognosis yet.
Most likely they would have to keep him on bedrest for several days.
You waited until Mr. Johnson was settled in his room and his wife was calm enough to be left by herself, before you decided to go home, after promised her that you would visit to check on them the next day.
Walking down the long hallway towards the exit, you could smell the faint scent of jasmine flower around the air, a typical occurence in Bali.
Wherever you went, somehow the scent of jasmine, frangipani, plumeria or lemongrass were like following around, especially because Balinese people have traditions of putting down a piece of offerings in front of their doors or entrances, both in private houses or public places.
Canang sari as they called it, is an intricately square-shaped palm leaves pinned together with bamboo sticks.
The decorated palm couture filled with different kind of flowers, sometimes some snacks or tobacco, are prayed and kept in every nook and corner of Bali. The different colours of flowers in this palm tray symbolizes a Hindu God.
Few months ago, you probably would never thought of living in Bali island.
You could picture yourself to live in fast lane cities like Seoul, Shanghai or Tokyo, but never, ever, you imagined yourself to land and reside in Bali.
Turned out your brother had a Korean friend who married with a Balinese woman, and they helped him to apply for the working visa as well as gave him a job in their korean restaurant in Denpasar.
You arrived there around three weeks after his arrival, courtesy of the assistance from Seokjin.
He booked you a flight from Seoul to Shanghai, and reserved a hotel for two nights, before you boarded the train to Shenzhen, spent one night there, and continued with bus trip to Hong Kong.
In Hong Kong, you rented an apartment for a month, then abandoned it on the third day and changed your passport to a different one, with the help of one of Seokjin's contact in that country.
With the fake passport, you boarded the flight to Jakarta.
Your last leg was from Jakarta, of where you took two hours direct flight to Denpasar, Bali.
Seokjin said that the complicated transits were arranged to eliminate your trail so it wouldn't be easy to trace.
Only one thing you didn't tell him, your brother was in Bali instead of Kuala Lumpur like you told him.
You abandoned the ticket to Kuala Lumpur that he bought for you, and booked the flight to Jakarta instead.
You couldn't trust him, not when he was one of the closest person to Yoongi, at anytime he could reveal your whereabouts to him.
Granted, he was the one who helped you to get away, but you had long learned, a man like Seokjin would always have his own agenda.
A month later, you found a job in a five star hotel in Uluwatu area, where you worked as assistant to guest relation manager.
Initially, it wasn't easy for you to adjust with life in Bali, the food and the yearlong tropical hot weather being the absolute challenge.
After your exploration of the island, you were exposed to various parts of Bali that has different characteristics of nature.
From iconic teraced rice paddies and rainforest around Ubud, to the white sandy beaches around Kuta and Seminyak that stretched to Sanur and Canggu, to beautiful coral reefs and blue sea with the crashing waves around the coastal line in Jimbaran or Bedugul.
There was a reason why they called it The Island of Gods.
Rice was grown with water that once flowed through a temple.
Each home was adorned with small temples and usually, a large temple within the property that was used for daily prayer.
The presence of Balinese Hinduism in everyday life and in Balinese architecture was why the island earned the nickname of Island of the Gods.
It wasn't hard for you to fall in love with the island after a month of living there.
And you were lucky enough to find an occupation that you liked.
Before you met Yoongi and being confined in the mansion, you were a hermit, always retreated from the social life and from people you didn't really know.
After gained your freedom back, you started to appreciate people around you and the surrounding where you were living, more than anything.
Working at a resort at the high end side of price range, you got the opportunities to meet with many people from different nations, and you were never been more grateful for your ability to speak in English.
People learned from the past after all.
When your car finally arrived at the parking lot of the resort, you glanced through the vast green courtyard illuminated with rows of warm white lights, it exuded the romantic and luxury ambience even before you enter the main building.
Walking through the pergola covered with glass canopy heading to the entrance, you thought about how different your life right now.
The laid back lifestyle that was adopted by Balinese people in general, made you slowed down and appreciated life in so many aspects.
Every tuesday was your day off, and you would spend it with your brother and his family in Denpasar.
Something that you could only experience once in a month when you were still working and living in Seoul.
You started to learn pottery recently, and you planned to learn about yoga and balinese dance next month.
The things that probably would never cross your mind before.
However, only one thing that didn't really change.
From the first time you arrived at Bali, even after four months later, you still couldn't stop to think about Yoongi.
Thoughts about him always occupied your mind, and you found that from time to time, you would check the korean language website to know more about him.
When you departed from Seoul, Yoongi was still in coma, and you were too anxious, you kept checking the web several times a day just in case there would be news about him recovered from the coma.
It was ten days later when you knew he was finally awake, under a news headline of him and the boys being questioned by the authority for five hours in regard of the shooting in Peninsula hotel, of where two people were dead because of stab wound.
Other times you saw his picture in a business website, stated that BTS stock prices were bounced back after Yoongi resumed to his office.
You stared at his photo, clad in his signature all black suit, you wondered if that was his recent picture or not, but judging by the more prominent jaw and cheekbones, it probably was.
At least he was okay, otherwise you wouldn't be able to get rid of the guilt that haunted you since he got shot.
In a way, you were grateful you weren't in South Korea anymore.
The changing of surrounding helped you greatly in the process of overcoming your fear and your feeling for him.
Once you stepped inside the hallway, the fragrant scent of frangipani welcoming you, along with the view of the elegant lobby with Italian marble flooring and lounge area under the tall ceiling decorated in long grid of traditional wooden blocks.
The long window wall on the left side of the room facing to the vast green garden overlooked to the swimming pool and the beach over the horizon.
It was already almost eleven at night, the lobby was pretty quiet, only an Indian woman wearing a sari sat with her partner at the sofa lounge.
There was a man in casual jeans and white shirt holding a small suitcase, who apparently just arrived and checking in.
You proceeded to the front desk, there were two other receptionists on duty that night.
One of them was a pretty Javanese girl wearing modern kebaya uniform, who smiled once she saw you.
"Hi, Mitha."
"Good evening Ms. Jang. Anything I can help you with?"
"You know about the Johnson couple right? I need to release their remaining booking, and there are some of their belongings I need to send to the hospital tomorrow."
"I heard that just now. Such a pity, in the middle of vacation, no less. I will process the release booking right away, but the fund might be reflected in their account in six working days."
"No problem. I'll let them know. Can you please make a note to the housekeeping tomorrow? Just skip their room until I give the clearance later."
"Very well Miss. Here is the form you need to sign, sky suite two eight three, correct? I will need their signature too by tomorrow."
The girl gave you the pen and paper, and you started to fill up the form.
The momentary quietness that followed while you wrote, you caught the heavy accented English from the guy who checked in, a few meters from you, and your ears perked up.
The voice sounded familiar.
You glanced to the left, taking in the guy's side profile, almost the same time with the guy was looking at your direction.
There was realization visible from his countenance, and he smiled at you.
"Yuri."
You almost couldn't believe your eyes if not because the voice that matched with his face.
"Jung...Jungkook?"