wonwoo
my eyebrows stay furrowed throughout the entire subway journey as i constantly clasp and unclasp my hands. this time, i have no one but myself to blame for waking up horrendously early at the weekend to be battered by the blustery winds that plague seoul this morning.
the anxiety welling in the pool of my stomach eats me alive as i quicken my pace towards the ice rink, only slowing down once i breach the glass automatic doors in an attempt to seem casual. the lobby is still as busy at it was yesterday and i just pray that none of the staff recognise me.
"one ticket please," i mutter to the receptionist, who all-too-happily takes the notes from my outstretched hands. she hands me a flimsy paper ticket i return and motions towards the turnstiles.
i'm already pushing through them.
there's another queue at the skate rental desk and it frustrates me to no end that i can't see who's behind the wooden counter.
when mingyu and i had finished on the ice and had gone to hand back the skates, jihoon was nowhere to be seen. mingyu had made a light joke about me just seeing things and wanting to believe jihoon was here in seoul, and it had stuck with me for the following twenty four hours. i hadn't been any less silent than i normally was on the journey home so mingyu was hardly fazed but truthfully i've been in deep, nerve-wracking thought. what if mingyu had been right, and i had in fact imagined jihoon slumped against the counter, wishing he was anywhere but at work?
so, with no knowledge of his shift timetable or if it was even him, i blindly headed back to the ice rink.
i swallow the urge to scream as the queue shuffles forward and one by one, the line shortens. it's not until i'm only one family away that i see jihoon in all his icy indifference, handing out four pairs of skates. he hasn't spotted me yet and suddenly my mind goes blank: should i bring yesterday up? would he think i'm weird for coming back? i hardly look like the kind of person who enjoys ice skating in their free time.
all these catastrophic thoughts disintegrate as i reach the window.
"hello, what size skates would you-"
he stops mid-sentence, feverishly taking in my appearance. i can't tell what emotion is swimming in his dark irises as i begin to stutter out my shoe size.
"hey! you were here yesterday." he perks up a little, which immediately relives a little bit of the embarrassment i currently feel. i nod silently and force out a chuckle.
"so, you like to skate?"
no actually, i would rather be curled up in front of my computer playing mindless video games until the early hours of the morning.
"yeah, it's pretty fun i guess."
jihoon nodded, amused with my unconvincing tone before motioning to the skates that i hadn't realised he'd already slid towards me. as i stutter out a thank you, the flashy colours of a video game enraptures me momentarily.
i simply watch jihoon play for what feels like a lifetime when a certain combination of moves suddenly causes my head to pound.
XB. Y. X.
a vertical attack.
i watch, mesmerised, as jihoon's lithe fingers graze the buttons in the sacred order that would win him the fight. hope wells in my stomach as it looks promising but then the words 'GAME OVER' taunt him in think red block capital and he lets out a small sigh of frustration.
it didn't work?
feeling like i've overstayed my welcome, i scarper off towards the changing room. the minute i'm past the double doors, i exhale heavily, feeling the strain in my lungs as my eyes flutter shut for a moment. i'm lucky that there's no one to watch my mental breakdown; i don't really feel like skating anymore (not that i did at the beginning) and so i just props the skates against a bench and head towards the stands.
the dimness is welcoming as i shuffle into a seat near the top of the stadium, settling into the plush red material, not yet tarnished by the inevitable years of use. the rink is a lot less packed than yesterday, which surprises me as i recall the sheer amount of people in the lobby. however, i just observe the people that are on the ice, hiding behind the high collar of my winter jacket and squeezing the hot pack hidden in my pocket.
a couple people seem to be trained skaters as i watch them loop around the oval confines of the ice, pulling all sorts of impressive jumps and shapes. there's that family from before too, a mother and father helping their children stay upright before they tumble down, almost taking the parents down with them. i very nearly laugh.
but there's someone else who definitely doesn't belong there. he looks frail, nothing but skin and bones, as he stumbles around the ice. grey hair sloshes messily about his chin and pours from the brown cap atop his head. although he mostly slides about in one spot, no one else seems to take notice of him. i continue to watch him almost fall flat on his face multiple times, tripping over nothing but air whilst smiling like...
a drunkard.
the temperature feels like it's dropped and i squeeze the hot pack for one last burst of warmth as this drunk old man continues to ensnare my attention. it's not until i notice a brown paper bag spilling a suspicious red liquid do i realise that he actually is drunk.
he seems unaware of the mess at first, and i'm too baffled with all the 'how?'s to care about him anymore. with some effort, he stops down to pick up the bag and the bottle, gripping it by the neck and bringing it towards his lips.
just before he does, his head turns and our gazes meet. the chill hares down my spine and i'm petrified in my seat, unable to comprehend the sickly toothless smile and arena being plunged into darkness.
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can you guess who?
sorry for the slow updates! school has started again and it's Not Great but i will try and upload when i can <3 hope everyone is well and enjoyed the new year !!