r e f l e c t i o n | 김 남준

Two

Cold nostalgia chills me to the bone

March 10th, 2015

Mornings were never a welcomed time of the day. She would have much rather slept through the dreary hours, but work was a bitch. She had to get up at nine every morning in order to make it there on time. It was even worse when she was so rudely woken by boisterous laughter coming from the kitchen.

Her roommate must have invited someone over. She rolled over and tapped her phone's home screen. It was eight thirty. Eight. Thirty. And in that moment she decided she was going to kill him. Her anger forced her to push past the initial fog that comes with waking up as her feet hit the cold wood floor with a thump.

She threw her door open dramatically and stomped down the hallway, the two voices becoming louder. Her mouth opened to roast the man standing at the stove until she saw the boy sitting at the counter.

He gave her his signature bunny smile and waved. "Hi, Noona."

"Morning, sunshine," her roommate said with a smile before flipping the hotteok in the pan.

She only grumbled in response before turning to the boy. "Jungkook, why aren't you at school?"

He rolled his eyes before taking a bite of some hotteok that his brother had already set down for him. "You were literally at my graduation, Noona."

"Oh." She frowned. It seemed like just yesterday she and his brother were sending him off on his first day of freshman year. "Stop growing up," she muttered before sitting beside him. "And you two woke me up! I could have slept for thirty more minutes."

The man cooking offered an apologetic grin. "But I'm making breakfast, so..."

"Jin, you cook in the morning and then you go to work and cook all day and then you come home and do it some more. Don't you get sick of it?"

Seokjin furrowed his eyebrows while handing her a plate of the gooey cinnamon and honey-filled rice cake. "Never!" He booped her nose with the end of the spatula, covering the tip in cinnamon honey.

She glared at him before wiping it off with a napkin. "If I break out from this, you're gonna have a broken arm."

"I love you, too," he said, blowing her a kiss.

Jungkook snickered. "You act so street, but I doubt you can even lift something that's fifty pounds."

"You wanna put your money where your mouth is?" she asked aggressively, staring him down. "I'll fight you right now, Kookie, I don't give a fuck."

"Language!" Jin pointed the spatula at her.

The younger smirked. "Check the biceps, Noona. You can't take me."

"Bet."

"You're one-hundred-and-sixty-five centimeters. Come on. I've got twelve on you."

The oldest rolled his eyes. "Guys, come on. No fighting—we've been over this!"

For as long as she'd known him, Jungkook always insisted on challenging her. She was not one to back down from a fight so it usually ended in discourse. Then Jin would have to intervene and patch up the problem.

The three finished breakfast in relative peace, her being more quiet as she was still waking up. Afterward, Jin sent her off to get ready for work, which she did routinely. It wasn't that she didn't like work—she loved to dance—but her directors were a bit...well, we'll get there.

Jin stood fixing her bangs in front of the door as he always insisted on before she left. "Oh, and by the way," he began and she immediately sighed, knowing what was coming. "This new dishwasher at my work is really—"

"Cute and nice and funny, yeah yeah," she finished, stepping back. "You know I don't do the whole 'boyfriend girlfriend' thing, so let's cut to the chase. Is he DTF?"

Jin furrowed his eyebrows, hands on his hips in his signature mom stance. "You date, though. What about Chinhwa?"

"Eh, his dick tasted like glue."

"Language," he hissed. "Or Daeshim?"

"Or Dong or Junghwa or Ling or that guy from vietnam whose name we couldn't pronounce?" Jungkook called from where he laid on the couch. "Or that guy from America...Chris...Christian?"

She turned on him, nostrils flaring. "It's not like I sleep around, okay?"

"I know, I know," he retracted. "You fuck one person for an extended amount of time."

"Exactly."

Jin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Aish. You kids are gonna drive me crazy."

"The point is, Jin," she continued, grabbing her bag. "Stop trying to set me up with people. I'm just one of those people who don't date and I'm not gonna get married and have a white picket fence like you."

He only shook his head and opened the door for her. "You'll see. Have a good day, sunshine!"

"Bye, Jangmi Noona!" Jungkook yelled after her.

Working for Korea's national dance company was kind of a big deal. Most of her coworkers were much older than her, but a few were around her age. It took years of experience and grueling practice to get to the point that they were all at, and Jangmi had more than enough training in her life. If anything, she had an advantage that her seniors despised.

The dance industry is extremely competitive and in the past year she had found herself foolishly making friends only to have them sabotage her so they would get a part instead of her. It was full of drama and backstabbing, so she decided to keep to herself for the most part. She was there to dance, not to make friends.

She didn't say anything unless it was a sign of obeying her director, even well into her two-hour break. Her coworkers usually derped around or played games on their phones during the break, but Jangmi practiced. She refined her technique over and over again, which is what separated her from the others. She put in extra effort and it showed in her performances.

They hated her for that.

About an hour in, she left the dance room to get more water. She walked past a conference room that had glass walls so everyone could see right in. She was passing the side of the long room. The head of the company was seated at the end of the table, some associates around him.

Jangmi ignored them until a yell pulled her out of her thoughts. "Park Jimin!" the chairman screamed. Her eyes flickered to a wide-eyed boy near the doors of the room. He was handsome, with plump lips and a sharp jawline. Dancer's body. She knew him. He was the intern who was hoping to become an employee once he graduated college. She didn't really know him. They'd never spoken, yet she found herself pausing to watch the scene unfold.

Jimin peeked his head into the room. "Yes, sir?"

"Get me eight americano's."

The boy hesitated a bit until the chairman screamed at him to go, his face flushing as the associates laughed while he scurried away. She didn't understand why everyone was always making him get coffee and food—he was a dance intern. She thought that maybe Jimin was too nice, as the rest of the interns learned how to run a dance company while he was stuck being a slave.

Sometimes the urge hit her to say something, be nice to the kid, but she wasn't there to make friends. If she was going to try and be his friend, she most certainly would've done it when they first met. Her coworker Haram brought him in with a smug look, talking about how he could get her any food or drinks she wanted. But Jangmi always remembered when Miss Kailee smacked a yogurt cup out of her hand and said, "Don't eat that! You'll get fat. Dancers need to be in peak form at all times."

So she politely declined after nodding to the boy in greeting. Haram laughed mockingly before leaving with him, and that was the last time she even interacted with him. About a few months ago. It seemed she had been just standing there thinking about the handsome intern for minutes—longer than she wanted to be away from the dance room. She hurried down the hall to the vending machine without another thought.

It was time to get back to practice.