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SAVE ME
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Yi-Seo

The man in the room, who is now the center of everyone’s attention, appears to be around forty years of age, and his head full of thick, dark hair flecked with grey is clear proof of this. If he stands up on his feet, he could effortlessly tower over every other man inside this room, and even though his eyes have heavy bags under them and his skin has started to wrinkle a little, his face is unmistakably handsome, and I’m fully confident that in his younger days as an idol, with all the professional grooming, he must have definitely been the most handsome man to walk the face of earth.

Taehyung has a fine salt-and-pepper stubble sprinkled over his upper lip and chin, his clothes are all black and simple and not anything remotely close to what a celebrity or rather an ex-celebrity would wear. But he still looks suave and stylish in an oddly attractive way, and if I hadn’t already known that he was an idol once upon a time, I wouldn’t have guessed it at all. Except probably living with the fact that he is some eerily attractive alcoholic, middle-aged, single man.

As if the information that Mi-Yang eonnie passed on to me earlier wasn’t enough to fuel my curiosity about this man, his appearance piques my mind even more, and my hands are itching to grab my cell phone right away and start researching him. But I’m holding back only because I want to observe him carefully when he’s here, and probably even try and figure out why he has decided to attend this meeting when I heard earlier from eonnie that he hasn’t actually bothered to attend any of it so far.

There is a kind of blankness in his expressions and his eyes are bloodshot, which I guess could be because of excessive drinking. I, for sure, know that he was drinking just a few hours ago, and I also know that the effects would not wear away so quickly.

A few minutes later, the chatter in the gathering dies down, and by this time, Taehyung appears to have grown a little impatient as seen from his slipper-clad foot which is on top of his opposite knee and flicking up and down at a rapid pace. His fingers are also tapping away on the table top, clearly indicating that the commencement of the meeting is long overdue.

Fortunately, Mi-Yang eonnie’s husband begins talking about something related to renovating the children’s playground within the community, and also about a sapling planting program that he has in mind for the upcoming weekend. These topics don’t manage to hold my attention for more than five minutes, and my eyes keep going back to Taehyung who seems to be listening to the speaker with utmost concentration.

I feel silly when I realize that I’m actually vying for his attention, for I-have-no-idea-why, but the law of attraction seems to be in its crypt right now because the man that I’m looking at isn’t even sparing a side-glance at anyone else in the room. He has eyes only for the person that is speaking, yet I find myself unable to focus on anybody or anything else.

The meeting ends in about fifteen more minutes, and I was actually expecting Taehyung to speak something or give some suggestions, but he remained totally mute and only kept listening, and this furthermore added opacity to the air of mystery surrounding him. I suddenly feel the dire need to leave the room at once and rush back home to start reading up whatever information is available about him on the internet.

A million questions begin mushrooming within my brain, and I chalk up my extreme curiosity to the fact that I haven’t actually come across any famous people in my real life, let alone living next door to someone who was once famous. Heck! Despite having lived all my life in Korea, I still haven’t even been to any concert or fan meeting conducted by an idol or an ex-idol ever before. This is my first celebrity encounter, and so I tell myself that my curiosity and excitement is quite natural.

Bidding a quick goodbye to Mi-Yang eonnie, I spare a few seconds to exchange phone numbers with her and quickly leave the room, following Taehyung.

It is around 6 pm, and the skies are gradually growing dark as he slowly strolls down the path that leads to where our homes are located, and on the way, he lights up a cigarette and begins to puff out rings of smoke. Smoking is prohibited in the common space of the Silver Springs community, yet Taehyung doesn’t seem to care about that rule.

I’m walking at a safe distance behind him, and even though the stench of the cigarette smoke wafts in the air, I’m still far enough to avoid passive smoking, and I’m pretty sure that he is unaware of my tailing him. But I have no other choice than to follow him because he literally lives next door.

If not for the intimidating aura that surrounds him, I would have most definitely walked up to him and introduced myself as his neighbor and even probably offered him some tteokbokki as a friendly gesture. But that doesn’t seem like it would happen with him, ever.

I watch as Taehyung silently walks up to his front door and unlocks it, and I do the same, turning my head to the side and keeping my eyes on him, but he doesn’t even bother to turn his head in my direction. He disappears inside, slamming the door shut behind him, and the noise makes me flinch before I enter my home and lock the door too.

I head over to the large window in my living room and cower in a corner as I carefully observe—like a creepy stalker—what the man next door is doing. The lights in his living room are all turned on, but the ones in mine aren’t yet turned on, and so only I can see what is happening in his place.

He undoes a few buttons on his shirt as he walks towards the kitchen divider and picks up an empty glass in one hand and a bottle of some kind of alcohol in his other hand and walks away into his room.

Does this man eat anything at all, or is his body just full of alcohol?

Something about him has been extremely intriguing to me, and I’m just not able to let go of these pricking thoughts. I can’t even name my own feelings which are borderline pitying his current state and high-key wanting to know more about him. I make up my mind to cook something nice and quick and give him a portion of it before I sit down to do my internet research about him.

If anything, I at least need to make him aware of my presence as a friendly neighbor.

I had spent some time earlier sorting out my kitchen stuff alone, and so everything is in place for me to start cooking a meal right now. After switching on the lights inside my home, I play some music on my phone and head over to the kitchen to start making a simple dumpling soup using frozen dumplings because this dish doesn’t require cutting and chopping too many ingredients.

It takes me around twenty minutes to finish making the soup and heat up some instant rice, and then I pack half of the soup and rice into two boxes that I could take to Taehyung. Shoving my phone into the back pocket of my baggy jeans, I pick up the boxes and head outside.

As I walk up to his front door, I have no idea why my limbs begin to tremble a little, but I ignore that reaction and take a few deep breaths before I press the doorbell and wait for him to open the door.

There are absolutely no sounds coming from the other side of the door, and it suddenly makes my heart race, and a lot of doubts begin creeping into my mind. The fact that he is alone and drinking heavily isn’t helping the situation within my head as well.

I wait for a few more seconds, trying to silence the panic bubbling away within my chest, and then the door clicks open, causing my whole body to stiffen and freeze when I find myself standing face-to-face with Kim Taehyung. My wide eyes give away how startled I am at the moment.

His drunken eyes study me as if I’m some kind of scientific specimen, and his gaze is undoubtedly making me a little nervous for no particular reason. All the buttons of Taehyung’s shirt are open, and he stands tall, holding the door for support while I adjust my glasses and clear my throat before I begin speaking.

“Hi,” I bow my head a little. “I’m Kwon Yi-Seo, and I’ve moved in next door just today. I thought I could drop by and say hello and give you this,” I extend my hands forward, and his gaze lands on the boxes that I’m holding in my hands.

He doesn’t speak a word, but he raises one eyebrow at me, and just that gesture is enough to draw out the answer to the question that he just asked me without using a single spoken word.

“Rice and dumpling soup,” I send a tight-lipped smile his way, and my answer makes him exhale sharply, and his shoulders slouch a little too.

He still doesn’t speak a word, and although it seems a bit rude, I still convince myself that he’s probably too drunk to say anything, which I definitely appreciate. Drunk men, though filled with honesty, are scary, and I know that a little too well.

Taehyung steps aside and weakly motions for me to enter his home, and I do so after giving him another bow, more respectfully this time.

His home looks like a mirror replica of mine, and the interior reeks of the combined overpowering stench of alcohol and cigarettes, and it brings up a lot of horrible memories, making my insides twist uneasily. I might throw up or pass out if I stay here for any longer than five minutes, tops.

However, ignoring all the instantaneous reactions, I place the boxes on the little free space that’s available among the bottles that are crowding the coffee table. But before I could turn around and look at him, I hear a loud thud at the doorway that forces a gasp out of me as I spin around on my heels, only to find Taehyung lying unconsciously crumbled on the floor right beside his front door.

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Yi-Seo is pronounced as ye (as in yellow) and so (as in soap). Ye-So.

Happy new year, guys!!
🥳 🎉

Published on : 01/01/2023