FLATLINE| JK

twenty eight

NAMJOON'S POV

Humans are creatures of habit. We find comfort in our routines, in the familiarity and predictability of them. When we can see something coming, we are more likely to react gracefully, whether the nature of the thing is good or bad. Anticipating change makes the change easier.

Despite our habitual behaviors, humans are also creatures who love to throw a good emotional curve ball every now and then. Ever since Moon Bong Soon walked into my life, the curve balls have been plentiful, put lightly.

I was surprised she even liked me in the first place, so that was the first curve ball. There's me, this dorky barista with a secret stash of medical knowledge and dimples. (The dimples do 50% of the work for me, I think. Thank you, genetics, for my bifid zygomaticus majors.) And then, there's Bong Soon.

The magnetic pull to Bong Soon is cliche and the furthest thing from a cliche all at once. Cliche, because of the fact that she has such a tangibly attractive aura to her. Ever since I met her, I wanted to know more about her. I felt like the main character or second lead in a drama. But, unlike a typical cliche, she's not perfect. And it's so refreshing to find someone who doesn't care if her hair looks like she stuck a fork into an electric socket, and who likes her neon green sneakers no matter how obscenely bright they are. She names the little pimples she gets around her mouth from wearing her surgical mask for hours on end instead of freaking out about breaking out. Her behavior is off-the-charts awkward half the time, but so genuine and reflexive that it's charming.

The next curve ball came when she got hurt in the explosion. I remember hearing the news for the first time, when two nurses buying coffee were casually discussing how Bong Soon was millimeters away from a live bomb. I hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but it was apparent that I had—I clumsily spilt scalding coffee over my hands as my neck practically snapped in craning to look at the nurses. I couldn't leave my post, and the following hour and a half of my shift was excruciating.

As soon as it ended I ran to the surgical wing, but got redirected to the ER, where Jeongguk had the bloody and bruised Bong Soon in a bed, recovering from the explosion.

I should have known that another curve ball would be on its way just by seeing the way he looked at her. His brows were furrowed and knit tightly in concern, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He was bent over her unconscious body, his free hand ever so gently resting on her face as his other hand gently weaved the sutures into her skin. If I had thought about it enough in the moment, I would have noticed that this wasn't normal for Jeongguk.

Sutures are routine and relatively easy. Jeongguk had done a million of them in his career, could probably do them in his sleep. Yet, he was clearly incredibly worried, extremely careful. He was touching her not just gently, but sweetly. If I had taken the time to compute the inconsistencies in his behavior, I might have been able to anticipate Bong Soon ending things. I might have been able to see it coming that she'd ending up with Jeongguk. But I was too enthralled to even consider it.

So, when the final curve ball came, I struck out. When she told me she was breaking off whatever it is we had, I felt completely blindsided. I wasn't sad so much as I was hurt and disappointed. That kind of feeling doesn't happen very often. The feeling where your whole body seems to buzz with excitement for the future just by looking at someone. I hadn't felt that feeling so potently for years. It sounds dramatic, but ever since my internship, I haven't felt that way at all.

Almost instantaneously after the break up, if you could even call it that, I started hearing gossip about the infamous photos. Bong Soon was the talk of the hospital for the following weeks. Thanks to the pictures, I connected the dots that she had been the girl Jeongguk would have nightmares about when we were roommates all those years ago, the girl he met in the brothel. He had been ashamed of being in the brothel, but he was even more ashamed of leaving her behind with no help. Jeongguk told me everything back then—just not that the girl he called Violet was really Bong Soon.