Tomorrow • A Jungkook X Reader Fanfiction

#3

My eyes keep wandering back to the clock hanging on the opposite wall. Every second seems to last decades, expanding into eternity. This is how I've spent my whole day, when I have to write an article for another magazine. The word count still hangs around 800 words.
I sigh frustrated, stretch my arms that are tired from doing nothing, and to kill another three seconds, sip on my tea.
7pm. Still four hours to go. Goodness, just four hours. My heart flutters at that thought. Should I get there way too early just to get my anxiety under control until Jungkook shows up? That's actually a good idea.

As I lock the door to my apartment, my hands shake a little, which consumes more time than it should. When it's finally locked, I put my headphones in my ears, to distract myself from everything else, indeed my anxiety and all the thoughts that belong to it. It's the only method I've found to really help against the panic, particularly when I listen to music I just recently discovered, so I still have to get the melody in my ear and find every edge of the song.
I walk slowly, put my steps carefully as I leave the house. The streets are busy with people coming back from work and students going out for a drink at that hour, even though the area I live in is not as bad as others here in Seoul. Still, it keeps me on edge.
At least I don't have to handle the city noise, but can sink into the tunes that pour into my ears, drowning every other sound.
As I walk down the street, everything feels like a movie around me. There is so much going on I can't let everything sink in, it's just floating past me, almost like under water.

The café I've suggested to meet up with Jungkook is only four streets away, located at the corner of a quiet alley leading into a busier road. Normally it's unfrequented, except for a few students who had enough from their desks or the library and choose this place to continue studying. Some days, when I feel the need to get out of my tiny apartment, this café is perfect to visit, drink a cappuccino and maybe write a little. Mostly without panic attacks. No one pays attention to a stressed girl here, not even when she's a foreigner.

As I sit down at a small table in the back of the place, with a really nice view out of the glass front onto the autumny street, lined with trees that are starting to think about changing the colour of their leaves, I feel my anxiety kick in a little. Closing my eyes, I try to remember that everything is okay, there is no need to panic. I force a smile onto my face, swallow back the heat that crawls up my throat.
After a minute or two, when I open my eyes again, a waitress comes up to me and I order my cappuccino with a husky voice, but still manage to smile at her. She works here almost every time I'm here.

Surprisingly, I manage to write the whole article to the end. Thank god. My concentration fades after two hours when I'm finished researching, writing and editing it cursorily.
For a few minutes it's enough to just look out of the window, enjoying the last sunny moments of the day while the sun is setting, sipping at the tea I ordered when I finished my second cappuccino, feeling almost like a normal person, the anxiety somewhere deep down in my chest, so far away that I even could forget it if I wanted to and listening to Talking to the Moon by KREAM, a song I love, floating as background music out of the speakers in the café.
But then a guy sits down at the table next to mine. It's just a small change in the setting, and I know I shouldn't bother, but that's exactly why anxiety shows again, spreading in my chest like a drop of ink falling into clear water. I don't wait until the water gets all black but stand up abruptly, almost falling over my own feet and stumble to the bathroom.
Waiting for my feelings to fall back into place, I sit on the closed toilet lid. The cabin is so small that my knees almost touch the door.
I feel the waves of panic crashing against me, but I don't let it get to me.
Minutes later I leave for my table, at the thought of my phone and keys lying there, practically inviting everyone to steal them. I've experienced that here in Korea most people don't do stuff like this, but it's still something I'm used to back from home.
I sigh relieved at the sight of my bag sitting untouched next to my chair.
The next hour flies by, my heart beating faster every second that goes by from excitement, not anxiety.

Jungkook is ten minutes late. When he enters, he seems tired, almost worn out, wearing his black mask again, of which you could think it's grown to his face, and the hood of his dark grey hoodie up. He looks around the empty café until he discovers me in the corner. Unsure what I should do, I wave at him. He smiles sheepishly as he walks over.
"Hi", I welcome him.

Our eyes meet, but he lowers his gaze immediately. "Hi" He pauses a second. "It's nice to see you again."

I almost laugh out loud. You can read from his face that he has no idea what to say. Not that I do, either.

"Though I'm the crazy girl that bumbed into you and then ran as if the devil in person was behind her." I grin. "Sit down, you don't have to stand there the whole time."
He does as I say, takes off his hood and mask and smiles again, a bit lost.
I was totally right. Now seeing his whole face he is even more handsome. He catches me staring, and though I look away instantly, my cheeks burn.

Our conversation starts awkwardly, with many breaks, stutters and short eye contacts one of us interrupts fastly. He asks me the stuff I've expected: if I go to uni, as I deny that, stuff about my job, age, all of that.

First, it's really hard to get him to talk. When I ask him about uni, his ears turn scarlet like the last time we met and stutters: "Well, er, you know... I may have lied about that." His gaze wanders to the ground once again.
I laugh. "I thought so."

"Really?" Our eyes meet, but this time none of us looks away. I nod.

"Um, actually I work in... the music business, it just sounded better that I'm attending university. Most people my age do." Jungkook seems really shamefaced.

The question what exactly he does with music burns on my tongue, but I hold it back. He doesn't seem comfortable with the topic, so I change it as if I'm not interested in his job.

Our conversation afterwards goes easy. We both seem to warm up, the awkwardness disappears, therefore I feel happy... almost comforted. The first time I think about my anxiety is forty minutes after Jungkook appeared, and even then I forget it again after a few moments.

We finally get distracted by the waitress who tells us in Korean that the café closes. The clock says it's 1am. I laugh surprised. "Where did the time go? We haven't studied a single minute yet!"

"Well, I guess that means we have to meet again." We both smile at each other for a moment, until I write down my phone number and give it to him. "Just text me."

I leave the café in a cloud of happiness. It's strange. I just talked to a stranger for two hours, but still feel so much better.
Reality kicks in lightly as the warm lights of the place I just left fade into the rest of the street lights and a cool night breeze hits me.
I shiver. Finally autumn seems to have arrived in the city of Seoul.
Instead of going straight back to my apartment, I wander around the quarter, listening to old songs that make me feel nostalgic in a way only music from your past can make you feel. That's what I used to do when I couldn't fall asleep, back home, when my anxiety was starting to get worse. I stopped somewhen, I don't remember why, but it was probably because it didn't help anymore. Now it feels just good walking through silent roads, watching the few people passing by, and feeling happy.
I wonder if this is just a good day or the beginning of many good ones.