EIGHTEEN | minsung.

chapter 3

summer, 2017

the boy passes through the neighborhood and unto the fields, holding tightly to his bike's handlebars as he pedals, pedals, and he doesn't ever think of stopping.

the sky is a bright hue of blues while cumulus clouds start to gather evenly. the flowers give off a radiance of spring giving way to summer. and just everything about how the sun shone brightly or how it's hotter than usual, it felt different and new somehow.

and, this.

this moment, he thinks, is the most freedom he could ever have. this feeling, he believes, will be enough. it's the most he's ever felt. this truth, he knows, that he's living in borrowed time every day. that we all are. that at any moment it's gone before you could even bid it goodbye. before you can pull yourself together and find closure. maybe moments like these are easy to recreate but hard to relive because you can never be the same person twice.

jisung pedals, pedals more, until he reaches the town's arcade. he parks his bike at the bicycle rack over the side and enters the building with anticipation.

the fellow pays for his tickets with the money he had saved up all year around. there, he approaches an occupied jeongin who seems to be playing a game of pinball. they played for about an hour until they eventually got bored and couldn't prolong any longer the grumbling inside their stomach.

"i'm famished," the younger says, staring ravenously at the myriad of desserts they could afford to order.

"for a while," he gestured softly. "i'll go get our utensils."

jisung walks over to the counter table to get their forks. he waits for his turn as another guy was taking some utensils as well. the stranger turns around and all of a sudden he stops on his spot. jisung raised a brow, confused.

jisung landed his eyes anywhere but on the boy in front of him. and then, he gave himself the courage to compete with the boy's stare, tilting his gaze. their eyes link, he blinks. the stranger leaves.

he blinks again, processing the weird encounter he just had. he took the forks, walking back to their table instead.

"i noticed something," confessed his friend when he got back.

"what?" he looks up from his food.

"someone's looking at you." jeongin tells, almost in a whisper. "don't turn around, okay?"

"huh?" to the other's disapproval, jisung turns around. his gaze, finding and searching. and when he lands a glance on the guy from earlier, he shrinks to his chair.

"i said don't turn around!" the younger exclaims in exasperated whisper.

he was the first to look away, having been intimidated by the way the other looked at him; with an intensity enough to mistake it for a glare. or perhaps, it is? he didn't know. all he knew is that this boy was staring at him and he didn't like it.

the older boy looks back at his friend. "what's his problem?"

jeongin sits there, unresponsive and just as unsure as he was.

he turns around once more, sees the same guy's face, and couldn't help the annoyance building up his system.

jisung couldn't help but glare back.