KALOPSIA ✓

4. saturday night

4. saturday night (is the loneliest night of the week)
"I sing the song that I sang for the memories I usually seek."

//

Hoseok jolts awake.

he stretches out his limbs, switching on the desk lamp beside his bed. it's still dark outside– his work begins before the sun starts to work and it's draining.

thirty minutes later, his apartment door is locked to the best of it's ability but Hoseok doesn't quite care anymore. he shoves his keys and wallet into his cargo pants before swinging the helmet safely onto his head. his heavy boot cladded feet start to walk along the marble floors of the building.

he greets the stray dog at the bottom of his apartment complex, beckoning him forward. he grins with delight when the dog recognises him, freezing in the early morning hours of New York.

the young boy emerges into a jog as he makes his way down the familiar route he sees everyday. first, a morning jog and second, off to work. he's aware of how sweaty his clothes can get but he doesn't mind the sink, hand washing every Sunday. he's survived all these years, alone, anyway.

he picks up a crossword puzzle on his way to work after a quick jog. grabbing the pencil from behind his ear, he occupies himself by trying to complete the puzzle. he knows he's not very good but it's a distraction from his thoughts and that's all he needs.

the work day passes in the blink of an eye for Hoseok. despite the numerous water breaks, heavy lifting and sounds of construction– the work is finished. their bridge is finished.

a fellow builder approaches him just as he's about to leave. "come on," he says enthusiastically, wrapping an arm around Hoseok– the youngest of the men. they treat him protectively. "we finished. we did well as a team, come out with us!" he tries to persuade the boy who's worked hard for months.

Hoseok stares at the bridge. they'll be working on something else tomorrow. "i have an appointment." he mentions.

"for what? you seem fine."

"it's for my mother, i have to translate for her." he lies, plastering a smile onto his face. "it's a nightmare but you boys have fun, have a drink on me!" he nudges his fellow worker before leaving– rowdy, excited cheers adding to the sad hole in his chest.

//

he eventually arrives for his appointment, settling into his assigned chair before looking up at his therapist.

"hey come in, how are you feeling?"

//

Hoseok heads home to his apartment, passing clubs and bars that scream a world of differences back at him. he doesn't know what to think as he blankly blinks at the limousines, suits and leather loafers. it's a life.

he's only wearing muddy clothes.

Hoseok leans down to pick up a kids fallen water bottle. he notices a small girl, a few steps away from him. she watches him with carefulness, weary eyes blinking, taking her bottle as he smiles at her. "shouldn't you be with an adult?"

he's concerned because when he looks around, no one is present. the child is alone, in the evening where danger lurks behind every corner. the situation isn't looking great. "will you be alright little girl?" he questions, crouching down to her height as she holds her colourful bottle close to her chest.

a pair of pale arms grab the girl, bringing her to the woman's chest in alarm. "hey! stay away from my daughter, you pervert." she spits and walks away.

"there's no need to say that ma'am." Hoseok mentions, straightening his posture as he watches the girl leave with her panicked mother. "i was just helping—"

"sure you were."

Hoseok, minutes later, finds himself standing on the closest New York bridge. the one built from his very own hands. instead of cuddling into bed, he stands in the cold and feels calmer than ever. he doesn't realise how the men in suits, swimming in expressive money may be out tonight with an exciting future but he built a bridge. this bridge.