Last Stop (Park Jinyoung)

three

t h r e e

Today I entered bus 356, with music softly flowing from my earphones. 

I settled on a seat at the back and pulled out Letters to the Lost by Brigid Kemmerer from the bottom of my bag. 

I set my glasses straight, then just as I was about to open the book he walked in. 

It was almost a repeat of the past days. 

Even without being able to hear him, I could tell he apologised in the same manner as the first day. He bowed, the driver waved him off again, and he made his way through the bus. 

Today he wore a red hoodie that contrasted gorgeously against he glowing skin and dark jeans. His hair was a mess, and he messed it more by running his hair through them. It made him even more attractive if that's possible. 

I couldn't help but wonder if I'd always see him on my way home from work. 

Was this bus his too, just like it was mine?

I mean, obviously, it was. We even had the same stop; the last one, but does he always take this bus?

What does he do? Is he a student? 

What if he is a high school student who just looks older than his age? 

My eyes widened at that thought, as I shook my head. His age shouldn't matter to me because it's got nothing to do with me. We just take the same bus, and that's about it. 

His high school days were probably one right out of the Korean dramas. 

He probably has a sweet love story with a beautiful girl, who also happens to be his childhood best friend. This is going to be their third anniversary, and they'll go to Namsan take cheesy photos and load them on SNS to show off their perfect relationship to everyone. 

I couldn't help, but left out a frustrated sigh, as judgements about this boy filled me again. 

I stared hard at words in the book trying to read it, but I couldn't. 

I rolled my eyes and looked up to meet his eyes this time. His clear eyes watched me as he walked through the bus. 

I looked away as I felt butterflies in my tummy. 

This was not good. I can't have butterflies for a complete stranger! What about his childhood best-friend slash girlfriend?

I turned my head outside to the view of a couple walking down the street. They were laughing about something, as the girl lightly hit his arm, then linked his hand in hers. I let out a sigh and sunk into my seat. 

I think I understood then; why I was being judgemental towards the good looking stranger. 

I think I understood it now. 

He was obviously a very attractive human being, and being the normal human being I am. I would, obviously,  be attracted to him because humans are weird that way. 

Yes, personality matters, but these small momentary seconds of infatuations are more -than most times- based on looks. 

I guess, crushing this few seconds of fancy was the reason behind my judgements. It stopped the possibility of hope inside me before it could even begin to take root. 

I let out a little chuckle, followed by a long breath. 

I'm letting go of this undiscovered little hope of love in this stranger before it becomes something more. 

With that, I next the song and stick my nose into this book.