Page 39 of When Worlds Collide
“Who lives here?” I said quietly, nervously. He’d specifically said we weren’t meeting anyone, yet here we were, outside someone’s apartment.
Jihoon just flashed a grin at me, before sliding down the panel on another keypad and entering in a code that unlocked the door. He still held my hand tightly, so when he pushed open the heavy door, he pulled me in behind him.
My eyes darted around the apartment. It was big. The entryway we were in gave a clear view from the front door to the expansive windows at the end of the apartment, the bright light from the clear morning sun streaming in.
Jihoon led us further into the apartment whilst I anxiously looked around for the owner. Someone clearly lived here because there were personal touches everywhere – from the acoustic guitar propped against the wall, to the occupied shoe rack by the front door. But it echoed as we walked through, in that way that empty places do, despite how full of stuff they are. I could see into the airy kitchen. There were shiney appliances, mugs hanging neatly from a rack under a cupboard, and a lit-up digital display on the fridge, but it felt… empty.
The living room opened out onto a small balcony, just big enough for two chairs and a patio table. Jihoon unlatched one of the doors and slid it open, letting a chill breeze rustle the almost-sheer curtains hanging on either side of the entryway. We stepped out onto the balcony, looking out over the city. The view was very different from the one from our hotel, and not nearly so postcard-worthy. We were far further into the bustle of the city, and the building we were in had some very close neighbours, but we were on a slope, allowing us a view downwards, instead of looking up into rows of other high-rise buildings. If I looked around, I could make out the Han River.
I turned back to Jihoon and raised an expectant eyebrow. He smirked, before finally answering.
“This place belongs to a friend, Cho Hyungsoo. He enlisted this summer.”
The name rang a bell, and I frowned as I tried to place it.
“Is he a singer?” I asked, tentatively.
Jihoon scoffed. “He is an actor, but he is also with ENT.”
Ahh. Perhaps I’d seen him in something.
“And why are we in his apartment?”
Jihoon turned his back to the view and leaned casually against the railing. “He is letting us stay here, while he is doing his mandatory service. I thought you’d be bored of living in the hotel.”
My eyes widened. “We’re going to live here?”
He smiled over at me, his expression soft. “Now you have a fixed address. For your Visa.”
Reality slammed into me with the reminder of my 90-day tourist Visa window. I’d allowed it to slip to the back of my mind as I’d eased into life here. It had been more of a vacation, so far, not much like real life at all.
I hadn’t really allowed myself the time, or freedom, to consider what came next. Now that I was faced with the ‘next’, I was embarrassed to admit – if only to myself – that I may have briefly entertained the notion that perhaps I might move in with him. In his apartment.
But that was completely out of the question; he shared an apartment with Seokmin and Sungmin, so obviously, I wasn’t going to bunk with the three of them.
“A fixed address,” I mumbled, turning my head to look back out at the crowded view.
“What about Lee and Ace?” I asked, using their more commonly-used nicknames, still a bit shy over the way my mouth moved around some pronunciations.
“That part is very easy,” he grinned at me. There was still a giddy-air surrounding him.
“Brr,” he said suddenly, with a dramatic shiver as a cold wind whipped through our hair. “Let’s go back inside.”
He closed and locked the sliding door behind him as we walked back through to the wide living room. Now that I knew whose place we were in, I started to notice little bits and pieces that hinted at its occupant. There was a built-in unit of shelves with what were clearly awards displayed haphazardly on them, along with seemingly-random items. There was a historical looking hat, which I recognised as a ‘gat’ – I'd seen enough K-dramas to pick up a thing, or two. I also saw an ornate looking box and a pair of scuffed shoes. None of it made any sense to me, but I supposed it had some significance to Cho Hyungsoo.
“Hold on,” I stopped so suddenly in my tracks that Jihoon bumped into me, and I would have stumbled, were it not for the strong arms that wrapped protectively around my waist, but I paid that no mind – almost.
“I know him!” I pointed at a group photo of two young men and a beautiful young woman, all dressed in ornate Hanboks and standing in front of a trailer, the kind you see littering the Hollywood film lots.
“I know him too, and her,” I said in sudden realisation. “I’ve watched this drama! That’s the one where the prince loses his memory and falls in love with the daughter of the bad guy who killed the king!” Truly, sometimes you had to take notes to keep track of who was who in K-dramas.
Jihoon made a humming noise. “That’s Hyungsoo,” he pointed at the man who was holding up two fingers in a ‘peace’ sign. Suddenly, I knew exactly who’s apartment we were standing in. Now that I was looking at him, I recognised him from several different shows.
“Wow, he’s super famous! I can’t believe you know him!”
Jihoon pulled back slightly to look at me, a frown pulling his eyebrows together.
“Jagiya, you realise who your boyfriend is, yes?”
