A Night With Park Jimin

Farewell (Part 1)

I ring the doorbell three times, but no one answers. I shuffle my weight from one foot to another impatiently as I wait for ajhumma. Gosh, I can't wait to take a hot shower after the all-nighter I pulled.

Maybe she's in the bathroom? I continue to wait, but after a few moments, I realize that my housekeeper must have left. I reach out for the keys in my purse, but it hits me that I didn't take them with me. They're on the dining table, beside the fruit basket. Just where I had put them yesterday as I cleaned my purse.

I'm stuck outside. I groan and drop the bags of groceries on the floor. My subconscious snarls at me, when you push your deadlines like you did, your bad karma catches up.

It's been three months since I moved here, and the second time I got locked out of my own house. I try to be mindful of carrying my keys around, but I'm still not accustomed to not having an automated lock. The first time this happened, I had to call a locksmith and have to lock broken and replaced. This time, I'm luckily in a better position. I fish for my phone in my bag and call my younger sister.

"This is a surprise," she greets me.

It stings at once. Her tone isn't sardonic or accusatory, but a sense of guilt washes over me. I just haven't been the same sister to her ever since my work got serialized. I don't even call her often because I'm so busy with my deadlines. Now that I've moved into my own place, we barely meet up. It's a shame, we'd been almost inseparable as children,

I hate to tell her I only called because I needed the spare key I left with her.

"Hey muffin, I know you miss me," I tease her knowing she hates it when I call her muffin.

"Can you stop, your sister is 25 and engaged," she retorts, "besides my cheeks aren't all that chubby ant more."

"So...what are you up to," I ask awkwardly, unsure how to bring up my spare key.

"I was just about to leave with head out, Seojun and I are visiting his grandparents."

I don't want to bring up my key at all. I've been so bad at being family lately. The wedding is in three months. But I've not participated in any planning. I have hardly ever met Seojun, let alone his family. I know I'm going to buy my sister furniture for her new home, but I haven't planned anything yet.

I'm a webcomic author, my submissions are weekly, and they are unforgivingly strict. My family has always supported me. I should stop being such an ingrate.

"I thought we could go out for drinks in the evening and catch up on the wedding details. I wanted to show you some furniture I selected for your new home," I tell her. I mentally note that I should furiously go through catalogs all afternoon.

"Yes," her response is immediate. "I'll be back by seven, so maybe we could go around eight?"

"Perfect," I tell her and hang up.

I sit down on the floor with my back against the wall. I dial the locksmith and explain my situation. He tells me he has three houses to visit, and he would roughly take forty-five to an hour. Just great. The corridor doesn't even have heating.

I wonder if I should ring my only neighbor's doorbell and ask if I could wait at his place. I dismiss the idea as soon as it enters my head for various reasons. He doesn't exactly live here, first, and second, it would just be too awkward. He's a celebrity after all.

Park Jimin.

When I first moved here, he had greeted me, his new neighbor, and said I should keep an eye on his place since he usually lived in a dorm. He looked pretty familiar, but I couldn't tell from where I'd know a guy who was at least five or six years younger to me. It seemed a little strange as well, why to live in a dorm when you own a place. But he was courteous and polite, I didn't make much of it.

It was only much later that I was stuck in traffic and ended up staring at a massive hoarding of BTSXPuma. It dawned upon me that my part-time neighbor was none other than Park Jimin.

Awareness had made me conscious, but luckily our encounters were infrequent. My guess is he spends his off days here. Perhaps celebrities need their space and time away from the spotlight as well. A condo in a quiet suburb didn't seem like a bad option.

It's November and cold. I pull my knees to my chest in a vain effort to feel a bit warm. I check my mobile, and I've only spent ten minutes of the whole hour that I need to wait. I should ideally take out my phone and start looking for furniture but don't feel like looking at a screen after drawing on my tablet all night. I blankly stare-off, my absentminded gaze fixed on Park Jimin's front door. I'm just too tired now.

Wait, were those cardboard boxes always there?

There are at least five large boxes filled to the brim with seemingly random articles. Why is he littering the corridor, the disposal is on the ground floor! He doesn't live here; will these keep lying around for a long time? I'm a bit disappointed. I didn't want to stereotype him as a snooty idol.

I get up to take a closer look at the boxes, but before I can, the door opens, and the Park Jimin mentioned himself walks out with yet another box.

He's as surprised as me but quickly smiles and greets. Then goes on to placing his new box on the floor.

"Lee Nari-ssi, long time no see."

I say my hello, wondering how to politely ask about the boxes.

"How have you been," he continues, and I feel irritated. He's now stacking the boxes one on top of the other.

"Um... good. Thank you."

Once he's done, he abruptly turns and catches me frowning at the boxes. I quickly correct my expression, but I know he's seen. He's been a very non-fuss neighbor so far, I shouldn't be rude about this.

"Ah, I'm moving out later this afternoon, so these are my belongings," he hurriedly explains. "My agency says it won't be a good option to keep coming here since a reporter found out."

"I'll movers will put everything away in a few hours," he insists.

"Yes..yes, sure. No problem," I tell him. So it was a misunderstanding on my part. My overworked brain has been too hyper to make judgments.

He gives me a goofy grin and asks, "Were you headed somewhere?"

Okay, that's embarrassing. I inwardly sigh because I don't have the vigor left in me to come up with innovative excuses.

"I went out for groceries without the keys while my housekeeper was inside. But yeah, she was done before I arrived," I shrug, trying to sound a notch less desperate.

It takes him a second, then he realizes, "Oh, You're locked out!"

I give him another shrug, "I've called the locksmith, he said it would take around an hour. I'm slightly exaggerating in hopes that he'll let me in. I'm too exhausted to be sitting in the corridor. Asking him myself would be embarrassing, but if he offers, it should be fine, right? I was feeling shy earlier but now to hell with it. I want in. Literally.

His response is immediate, "Please come inside until then."

I give him a small smile and thank him. I want to giggle, I've baited an innocent boy. Shameless of me, but I'll think about that later.

I watch the muscles in his back flex as he opens the front door. Wrong, I tell myself. I've baited an innocent, sexy man.

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Part two with the juice will come out soon,, hold tight lovelies!!!

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