Work Text:
“How about a trip around the world?”
It was just like any normal day. Well, normal by Jinyoung’s standards. The daily life of an “author on the rise” was far from status-quo by anyone else’s metrics of normalcy.
He’d wake up at 6am, stare up at his ceiling to ponder about his existence for about an hour, refuse to get out of bed because he stayed up late the previous night, and sleep again. At around 11am, he’d wake up to a grumbling stomach, prepare his brunch (because who had time for breakfast, really?), take a long shower to ponder some more, and proceed to stare at his laptop screen for the remainder of the day. He’d only begin to add words to his manuscript at around 9pm, after his friends would either drag him out to eat dinner or barge into his apartment without prior notice.
Much like what was happening now.
Mark and Bambam, the only two friends he had the energy to keep in touch with after graduating with his Creative Writing degree, sat at their usual perch on his living room carpet. For some reason, they both loved sitting there, even if there was a perfectly comfortable couch right beside them. Jinyoung snorted softly when he remembered what Bambam said when he first invited them over after moving in.
“Honestly, hyung, I don’t understand why coffee tables were made to be this low. How are we supposed to do anything in your living room while sitting on your couch?”
He never understood the inner workings of the younger’s mind. When they first met four years ago, he never imagined he’d be best friends with the peculiar Thai kid he met in their college’s dance troupe. Here they were, though, two years after Jinyoung graduated. Bambam was already a senior, and Jinyoung didn’t think he’d be the same without this weird Thai kid. That sentiment was probably what propelled him into jokingly offering to take Bambam in as his junior editor when the younger said he needed an internship as a requirement to graduate.
“Nah, Bam. Jinyoungie may be richer than both of us from his last book, but that doesn’t mean he’d actually spend that money.”
His friendship with Mark, he could definitely understand. It would make less sense for the two of them if they weren’t friends. They were both quiet, appreciated actions more than words, laughed at the same jokes, and were basically glued to the hip since they could walk. Mark’s family moved into the house next to Jinyoung’s when Mark was 6 and Jinyoung was 5, and the rest was history. Mark even worked at Firework Publishing – the same publishing company he partnered with – as a gaming journalist. Mark was his best friend whether he liked it or not.
“What about that museum you’ve been raving about, hyung? Do you want us to go with you?”
He never said it out loud, but he really did appreciate his friends. They helped him get through life without letting him feel like the days bled together into a dull fugue.
Most would think that after having numerous book tours and fan meets, he would just be basking in all the fame and fortune; but his reality was a bit off the mark. He was 23, only had two real friends, and dealt with all the anxiety that came with every rejected draft because it didn’t “live up to the success of his last book”.
With each reminder of an impending deadline from Bambam and every manuscript stamped with a “PLEASE REVISE”, Jinyoung was reminded of the worst thing that could happen to anyone in the industry.
He was uninspired.
The last droplets of his creativity were squeezed out of him in order to write his most recent publication.
He needed to find a way to water his metaphorical plant of passion so it could bloom again.
This was mainly why his two best friends were slumped on his living room carpet, scrolling through Bambam’s phone. They were probably looking at the “100 Ways to Refuel Your Think Tank” article from Buzzfeed, as if they didn’t know that Jinyoung already read it. Twice.
“Oh! What if you start doing Tik Tok’s? That would be so fun! Let’s do one together, hyung! We can do the WAP challenge. We all know you have the ass for it!” Bambam exclaimed, and the other two groaned simultaneously.
“Get out, Bam, you are no longer welcome in my apartment,” Jinyoung deadpanned, and Bambam laughed.
“Okay fine, maybe not Tik Tok. But hyung, how are you gonna find inspiration if you don’t go out of your comfort zone? You need something different!”
“You need a muse,” Mark added, eyes glued to his phone screen. “Here, Jinyoung, number forty-eight. ‘Take a walk in the park and talk to a random stranger’. I think that sounds doable.”
“Hyung, you know how hard it is for me to talk to random people. What if they find me creepy? Or worse, what if they’re creepy?” Jinyoung shuddered just thinking about it.
“Then why don’t you start a conversation on Twitter or something?” Bambam interjected.
“Social media really isn’t my thing. I only have that Twitter account because you made it for me, Bam,” Jinyoung countered.
“Oh wait! I have the perfect thing!” Bambam suddenly blurted out, and Jinyoung felt a small, unnerving chill up his nape. “Oh don’t look at me like that, hyung. Anyway, we all know that you aren’t so chill with social media and stuff, so why don’t you just try things the old school way?”
“What do you mean?” Jinyoung asked, a little surprised that Bambam didn’t sound entirely off the rails.
“My childhood friend actually sent me a link to a penpal website. You can look for someone to exchange letters with, hyung! And you can send letters to anyone in the world. You just have to make a profile on the site,” Bambam suggested, grinning. “A lot of my classmates signed up for it, and there are blogs about it too. It’s pretty chill, y’know? I feel like you’ll enjoy something like this.”
“A penpal? Like snail-mail?” Jinyoung asked.
He did like stationery, even if he never really admitted it to anyone. He liked collecting stickers and post-its with pretty designs, and even tried hand-lettering a few years ago. But he liked doing those stuff for himself. He never really showed it to anyone else, and the prospect of anyone else freaked him out a little.
“Yeah, like snail-mail. It’s pretty neat. It’s like gaining a new friend without ever having to do what you hate the most,” Bambam added.
“And what do I hate the most?”
“Socializing,” Bambam and Mark stated in unison. Jinyoung pouted and hit both of them on the shoulder.
“Just think about it, hyung. It’ll help you with your writer’s block for sure. Here, I sent you a text with the link.”
“Pen A Pal dot com…?” Jinyoung laughed at the corny website name.
“It’s the most popular penpal site, ok? Stop judging and start making a profile!”
“I don’t know about this, Bam. What if I become penpals with someone who turns out to be a serial killer?” Jinyoung griped, and Bambam rolled his eyes.
“It’s a verified website, hyung. They have secure screening. You’ll see when you sign up. Stop making excuses, man!”
“Don’t pressure him, Bam. The more you pressure him, the more he won’t want to do it,” Mark quipped with a giggle.
Jinyoung sighed and gave a non-committal grunt.
“We’ll see. I’ll think about it.”
✎
And think about it Jinyoung did. Thought about it everyday for a week, if he was being exact; going back and forth between “I’m going to die by the hands of my penpal” and “I would do just about anything to get the writing spark back”.
He eventually settled with a “meh, what can I lose?”, and used his laptop to check the website out.
He scrolled through the catalogue of potential penpals, and appreciated that there were self-written bios to let people know about their hobbies and interests. Each profile had a first name and a description of themselves, but there were no pictures nor last names.
I guess it is more secure that way. Creepy stalking is definitely out of the question. Jinyoung thought absentmindedly.
He was pleasantly surprised with the amount of guys on the website. It was probably prejudiced of him, but he initially thought that writing letters to complete strangers was more of a feminine activity. It wasn’t because penpal-ing was girly, it was more because he thought that people who were in touch with their feminine side were more likely to take risks and even have the mental aptitude to write to complete strangers. Most of his coworkers were women, so Jinyoung felt somewhat relieved to know that there was a spread-out demographic.
Still, Jinyoung admired these guys for even making a profile on the site. From what he understood, making friends via snail mail involved a lot of opening up and being intimate in a way only written words could foster. It took courage for these people to break the norms set by whichever ambiguous entity decided what the “status quo” was, and Jinyoung would have to muster up that same courage eventually.
Luckily (or unluckily? that was still up for debate) for him, ‘eventually’ was actually within the day. He knew that if he put it off another day, he’d chicken out, and he didn’t want to do that without at least putting his foot through the door, so to speak.
So he clicked on the little “Sign Up” prompt on the top right corner of the page, and spent the next thirty minutes trying to include all of his interests without making it sound like he was too picky with his penpal preferences. Satisfied that he wasn’t showing anything weird or incriminating on his profile, Jinyoung then did what he did best.
Research.
Whenever Jinyoung ventured into something new, he always made sure he knew what he was getting into, mostly because he didn’t want to seem like a complete idiot who had no idea what he was doing. And there was one accessible, trust-worthy, reliable source for this kind of research – Youtube.
He typed “penpal” on the search bar, and was presented with an overwhelming amount of ‘penpal with me! ✉️’ videos that he binged for the next few days. From his investigation, he learned that there were a variety of things he could fit in a small envelope. Some people added Q&A sheets, others added extra stickers or washi tape as gifts. There were even people who threw tea into the mix – literal tea bags!
He found himself unable to stop watching these videos. It felt therapeutic somehow, seeing people put letters together and make them really beautiful. He felt like he would enjoy the process too. He’d always had a knack for making collages and scrapbooks, even when he was still in school. He already had some stationery; all he had to do was buy some more.
After deeming his ‘research’ enough, he logged into his account on the website again and scrolled through the seemingly-endless list of penpal prospects. He was close to just randomly picking someone when a particular profile caught his eye.
Jackson (23)
- enjoys travelling, but Hong Kong will forever be home
- loves singing and dancing, but needs a distraction from it sometimes
- has a lot of friends, but somehow feels lonely
- favorite movie of all time: In The Mood for Love (Wong Kar-Wai)
- let’s make history
To say that he was intrigued was an understatement. Jinyoung’s never met anyone who talked about themselves this way. Each bullet point sounded almost poetic, like each syllable was meant to follow a format – a tune.
It was so mysterious, too – as if Jackson was posing a challenge to anyone who read his words. As if he commanded that they make a connection. Nevermind that they had the same favorite movie, he just felt drawn to this guy and his strange way of introducing himself.
Let’s make history…? Is that supposed to be some kind of a pick-up line?
More than a bit intrigued, Jinyoung clicks on the guy’s name to show his full profile. After browsing through more of Jackson’s information, Jinyoung learned a couple more things about the Hong Kong native.
- The address he provided was a PO box, and not his real address. It was such an ingenious move that Jinyoung took a mental note to change his address on his profile to the publisher’s office address instead. It would definitely put his mind at ease with the whole “penpal can be a serial killer” problem.
- Jackson knew an impressive amount of languages and dialects. Even more impressive was the fact that he knew how to speak Korean. What were the odds? Jinyoung still opted to write everything in English, though, since he could brush up on the language that he had to learn in college. English was supposedly the language of the world, wasn’t it?
and, - He had four other penpals over the years, but they stopped writing to each other eventually.
Jinyoung stared at the pink “Interested” button at the bottom of Jackson’s profile, wondering if he was truly the right choice.
He bit his lip and clicked the button, instantly letting Jackson know that he wanted him to be his first ever snail-mail buddy. Now, he just had to wait for Jackson to do the same so they could officially be a matched pair of penpals.
He really hoped Jackson wasn’t a creepy stalker.
✎
The notification for their successful match pinged the next day, just as he was finishing up his brunch.
This was it. The ball was in his court now. Since he was the first to show his interest, it was site policy that he should be the first one to send his letter. This brought Jinyoung to a bit of a panic. He sucked at starting conversations, but this was ten times worse.
Every word he chose would be hand-written, and that somehow had a sense of permanence and finality to it that texting or calling didn’t. If he made a fool out of himself, he couldn’t fly all the way to Hong Kong and rip the letter to shreds, nor could he convince Jackson to throw his letter away without reading it.
To take his panic further, he had no idea how to decipher what Jackson would like to see in a letter. Would he appreciate simplicity and minimalism, or elaborate decorations and inclusions? Did he like long letters or short anecdotes? What would he even say in the first letter?
Jinyoung’s head was spinning in so many different directions, but he did his best to stay calm.
He shouldn’t overthink this. He could start simple, and decide to modify his letters after Jackson’s reply. That way, he could gauge Jackson’s style first and then respond with a style of his own.
He walked to his study with a ripe sense of determination, and a giddy anticipation that he admittedly hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe this was good for him. There was merit to keeping Bambam around, after all.
Pulling a loose sheet of notebook paper and his trusty gel pen on the way to his desk, he sat and stared at the blank page as if his stare would come up with coherent words for him. He spun his pen between his fingers while he pondered over how to start the letter. The first sentence had to be perfect – full of sharp wit, showcasing his personality, and intriguing enough for Jackson to keep reading.
Don’t overthink it, Jinyoung. You got this.
He took a deep breath and let the pen glide on the paper.
Dear Jackson,
How do we know when we’ve made history?
Would you agree that ‘history’ is such a relative concept? What would we have to do to ‘make history’, so to speak?
I’m not discounting or undermining your life motto, really. It just gave me something to think about ever since I saw your profile on the penpal site. It’s all I do nowadays – think to myself. I’m with myself too often, and as you may guess, I’m sick of being in my own head. So here I am, writing a letter to you in hopes that I can break the confines of my own mind.
Anyway, hi. I’m Jinyoung, and I’m a writer. Is it weird that I only introduced myself now? I’m sorry. Can you tell that I’m nervous and trying really hard to seem like I know what I’m saying?
I should probably stop babbling about random things.
I hope you don’t find me too weird.
I also hope you like this letter enough that you would reply. I want to get to know you, too. :)
Cheers,
Jinyoung
He cringed a bit at his letter, but decided he would probably do even worse if he redid the whole thing. Mildly satisfied with his work, he folded the paper into thirds and taped it closed.
If anyone asked Jinyoung what his personal style was, he’d probably admit that he was minimalistic, but for anything stationery-related, he’d make an exception. He liked making pretty collages and coordinating everything into one cohesive theme, much like those people who decided to post ‘penpal with me’ videos online. The only problem was that he already committed to keeping things simple for now.
That being said, he didn’t want his first letter to look too plain and boring. Neither did he want to overwhelm Jackson by making a full-blown stationery-filled decoration. He didn’t want to expose his love for stationery just yet, so he opted to rummage through his small collection of stamps to at least spruce up the envelope design. He finally found a fox stamp that he thought suited his personality a lot, and used it to decorate the front side of the envelope.
He admired his handiwork for a good minute before deciding that it was good enough to send out, so he sealed the envelope and wrote Jackson’s address below his name. He stood to put the letter in his bag before he could feel the urge to tear it into shreds and throw it away. Once he finished his brunch, he just had to drop it in the bright red post box right outside his apartment building on the way to the publishing house.
This is it. There’s no chickening out now.
As he walked back home from his day of errands, he wondered why none of the penpal vloggers mentioned just how nerve-wracking it was to wait for your penpal’s first response.
✎
“I finally sent the letter yesterday, guys,” Jinyoung declared offhandedly to his two best friends.
Mark and Bambam were sitting in his living room again, except this time, they were setting up his home theater. They allotted one Sunday evening every month for their Movie Madness night, and they hadn’t missed a single one since their college days.
Today was apparently a special day because instead of picking out a movie from Jinyoung’s extensive collection, Bambam convinced them to watch the DVD of Jackson Wang’s most recent world tour.
His friends had been obsessing over the idol for the past three years. They loved Jackson Wang so much that Jinyoung already knew the idol’s whole origin story just from Mark and Bambam’s rambling. The idol was born and raised in Hong Kong, then was scouted by an entertainment agency in Korea and debuted as a solo artist here. Later on in his career he had some problems with the agency. So he decided to quit and make his own agency based in Hong Kong called Team Wang.
Jinyoung’s best friends made sure he knew everything there was to know about the idol. He just couldn’t understand why they would want to watch replay footage when they all but dragged him to watch the concert live just last year.
But he really shouldn’t complain, no. Not when he was actually relieved that they were with him while he was this tense and nervous.
He placed the large bowl of chips and the salsa on the table before his friends finally processed his statement and proceeded to bombard him with questions.
“You actually sent one?”
“What did you say?”
“What did your letter look like? Do you have a picture?”
“Who’d you choose??”
They stared at him, looking like they were expecting him to understand every single sentence they shot at him as if they weren’t lost in the confusing garble he actually heard. It was so absurd that all he could do was laugh and claim his cozy spot between Mark and Bambam.
“You gotta give us a name at least, hyung!” Bambam pressed, and Jinyoung relented.
“Well, his name’s Jackson. There isn’t much to go on from his profile, though,” Jinyoung shrugged, pulling his phone up and showing the others his penpal’s profile. They huddled over the tiny screen to take a look, and Mark hummed in response.
“I get why you’d choose him,” the eldest commented, nodding in approval.
“I hope you guys hit it off,” Bambam added, and they dropped the topic in favor of focusing on the huge TV screen.
They were halfway through the concert with an almost-empty bowl of chips when Bambam said something so ludicrous that Jinyoung nearly spat out his soda.
“What if the Jackson you’re writing to is actually Jackson Wang?”
The three of them stared at each other in silence for a hot minute before they all burst into a laughing fit so vigorous that Jinyoung’s sides started aching by the time he calmed down.
“Yeah, and pigs fly. That’s impossible, Bam!” Jinyoung exclaimed with a giggle, taking a glance back at the idol’s features through the screen. Would a world star even be interested in something as trivial as writing letters to random strangers?
“Yeah, his schedule is probably booked. How on earth would he find time to talk to penpals?” Mark stated. Bambam said something in rebuttal, but Jinyoung had already tuned out his friends. When they started their usual banter, it was hard to get them to stop. With his friends’ argument as background noise, Jinyoung’s mind wandered back to Bambam’s initial statement.
It was a notion that he wouldn’t normally consider as a possibility; but why did his heart flutter like he wasn’t going to forget that thought for a long time?
✎
To give himself some credit, he did forget about it after a few weeks.
His own mind probably just swept the thought under the rug because it was never going to happen, and he needed to stop thinking about it before he got disappointed. In addition, putting a face to the name of his letters’ recipient would essentially ruin the whole point of having an anonymous penpal. He’d just preempt any potential friendship with his own expectations and preconceived notions, and the experience would just become unenjoyable for them both.
So it was with a fresh mind that he received the first reply from his penpal.
It was a regular Wednesday afternoon, and he was in a lighter mood because he was actually productive enough to add a few paragraphs to his manuscript. With a little spring in his step, he made his way to the publishing company with a manila envelope full of a few weeks’ worth of his work.
His small smile turned into a confused expression when Ms. Jung, the office secretary, took one look at him and giggled at him instead of offering her usual greeting.
Jung Yeonhee was a year younger than him, but he considered her more of a good friend than his dongsaeng. Granted, most of their interactions were in this very office, but they’d go out on a coffee run once in a while. They spent enough time together to be comfortable around her, at least.
“Oh Jinyoung oppa, look what you’ve done!” Yeonhee whined as soon as he was within hearing range.
“Hello Jinyoung oppa, how are you on this fine day, Jinyoung oppa? Oh I’m great Yeonhee, thanks!” He replied sarcastically. Yeonhee just rolled her eyes at him, so he raised his eyebrow, urging her to continue.
“All the girls in the office are absolutely devastated, oppa! I mean, it’s not like any of them had a chance, but eighty percent of them don’t even know you’re not into gir– OW!” Yeonhee’s ramble was interrupted by his (hopefully painful) pinch on her forearm.
“Get to the point, Yeonhee-ah. You’ll end up outing me with your naturally loud voice,” he whispered, giving her a leer. “What are you even talking about? Why are people devastated?”
“Huh? Are you acting dumb or something?” the younger gave him a genuinely bewildered look, and continued when she saw him shaking his head with an equally bewildered expression, “We were all under the impression that you were finally out of the market, oppa!”
“What? What made you think that?” Jinyoung sputtered, eyes growing wider by the second.
“Oh you aren’t? Well, that’s weird, ‘cause this was delivered to the office with your name on it!”
Jinyoung’s eyes traveled to the thin envelope in Yeonhee’s hand.
Oh.
OH.
He swiped the envelope and cleared his throat in embarrassment.
“I-It’s none of your business,” Jinyoung muttered under his breath, and placed the large manila envelope in Yeonhee’s hands instead. “Just give this to Manager Yong, would you?”
“So you’re not–”
Jinyoung interrupted her with an animated head-shake, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks. Yeonhee just let out an amused laugh and shooed him out of the office like she was telling him she’d take care of the rumor mill. He bid her goodbye with a grateful smile and felt the butterflies in his stomach flutter up a storm throughout the trek back to his apartment.
Once he got home and was free from all distraction, he finally took a good look at the letter. His jaw dropped as his gaze landed on the beautifully-decorated envelope.
So much for ‘starting simple’.
No wonder people thought I was taken.
Jinyoung was almost too afraid to open the envelope in fear that he would ruin the design. Almost.
With deft fingers, he peeled the flap of the envelope away carefully and pulled the letter out. Even the letter itself had a lot of decorations; the gold, yellow, blue, and black motifs mixing together in a harmonious feast for the eyes. Jinyoung almost felt bad that he only sent his letter with a fox stamp. Almost. At least he could let his creativity flow unhindered for the next letters to send.
Jinyoung stared at the letter for a short while, admiring Jackson’s neat penmanship before he started reading in earnest.
Dear Jinyoung,
I would’ve guessed you were a writer without you actually telling me. You certainly have your way with words! I wish I was as eloquent as you are, honestly. I write too, but lately I’ve been soooooo drained that I’ve been having a hard time with it.
I’ve been thinking a lot about what history meant to me after reading your letter. I guess history is what we make of it, really. I think as long as I’ve been a positive influence to at least two other people in my life, I’ve made my own brand of history. At least these two people would remember that I existed. What do you think? Have you made your own history?
I think I can say that I have. With my friends at least. I have three dumbasses as friends. One of them makes music as a profession but is more interested in his five cats than people; another is a choreographer, he’s so cute and precious when he isn’t the devil incarnate, and the last is the glue that holds the four of us together. Well, when he isn’t paying attention to his dog more than us, anyway. I love these idiots as much as I love my parents, and I think they’d remember me long after I’m gone. That thought helps me sleep at night. :))
As for me? Well, I just struggle to get through every day. I’m always tired, but the tiredness makes me feel happy and fulfilled in a way. It helps me feel like I actually did something worthwhile, you know?
I love the color red, I love Hong Kong movies, and I love cilantro. That makes me sound like any stereotypical Chinese man, but it’s the truth! :) I also love fencing – I think that’s something I haven’t put in my profile. What else would you like to know about me? I’m not very good at volunteering information about me like this. I’m pants at making friends, unfortunately. :s
Did you like the theme I used for the design? I saw on your profile that your favorite author is F. Scott Fitzgerald, so I thought of using Great Gatsby/Art Deco as a peg. I personally like Winter Dreams better than Great Gatsby, but it was difficult to think of a theme for it. Sorry if you think it’s too basic. Haha!
I’ve exchanged letters with a lot of penpals, but none of them were as weird as you. In a good way, of course!!! You’ve only sent me a page’s worth, but you already made me question my whole existence. That’s a talent! I look forward to more thought-provoking snippets from you. :)
P.S. Maybe we can send each other movie recommendations? It looks like we have the same taste in films! Send me some inspiring titles, I certainly need some inspiration for my own writing. ^^”
P.P.S. The fox stamp is really cute :)
Waiting for your reply,
Jackson 王嘉尔
By the end of the letter, Jinyoung’s smile was stretched from ear to ear. He didn’t expect Jackson to send such a long reply back.
He writes too? I guess we’re in the same boat. Writing block’s definitely a pain in the ass…
With renewed energy, Jinyoung rushed to his desk to write another letter.
Dear Jackson,
‘History is what we make of it’, huh? I must confess, I’ve never thought of it that way.
If we go by your definition of ‘making history’, then I can only hope that I can leave my brand of history through the books I write. I will never know for sure if they would become a legacy I leave, but there is no price to hoping.
Your friends sound delightful! I only have enough energy to deal with two of those, unfortunately. (I’m kidding, of course. I love my friends. It’s just that they can sometimes be a bit… much.) They convinced me to sign up for a penpal, though. I guess I have them to thank for letting me talk to you. :)
The theme you chose is perfect . I was actually reluctant to decorate my first letter in fear of your judgement, but it was all for naught. Your creativity is far superior to mine. The letter was beautiful and so very thoughtful. I attempted to decorate this letter too. I hope you like the theme this time around. You did say your favorite color was red, yes? ^^
I included a list of movies in the envelope! These are the movies I’d rewatch if my brain needed a little kick of encouragement. :)) I think you’d enjoy watching them.
Hope you wake up to better days,
Jinyoung
Jackson’s long reply was a welcome surprise, though.
Welcome enough that the gears in his brain kicked into motion and allowed him to write a short poem for his penpal.
A Little Something To Help With Your Slump:
The oceans between us rise,
the waves crash with a start
We stare up at the same skies
though our shores are miles apart
This time, he wasn’t afraid to decorate his envelope anymore. Luckily, he had a lot of red stationery. After spending a good thirty minutes on the envelope design, he placed the letter, the movie recommendations, and the poem inside before he sealed it. Satisfied with his work, he gently placed the envelope in his bag so he could send it out the next day.
He sat on his desk aimlessly and stared at Jackson’s neat handwriting again. A mix of relief and hope overcame his senses. Jackson wanted him to keep sending letters.
Jackson was waiting for his reply.
Would the trickles of inspiration that flowed in today eventually turn into a constant stream?
Was he finally going to make a new friend?
This just might work…
✎
Dear Jinyoung,
Send me copies of your books! I’d love to read them. They don’t sell much Korean literature in my area, unfortunately. Else, I would’ve already read all of your novels. Help a guy out?
Also, thank your friends for me. ^–^ They’re the reason why I have you as my weird penpal. I find myself looking forward to your letters. Does that mean we’re on the road to being friends? :D
I seem to make friends in the most bizarre circumstances. I met my producer friend when he tripped over me in middle school. The fencing team and the dance team had to share a gym for practice, so I met my choreographer friend because we were forced to train in the same space every other day. I’m technically my dog-lover friend’s boss, and I met him while he was busking in a park…
Maybe I’m just incapable of having normal friendships?
The decoration is red!! Incredible! I’m more of a Pepsi kind of guy, though (not that it’s of any consequence to you, honestly). I didn’t think you liked decorating letters, but this is amazing. Never be shy around me again! I would never judge you. :)
Thank you so much for the movies. And your poem! Your words are art. Simply art. Suffice to say, you’ve helped my spark return. I can’t thank you enough. I also have a list of my favorite films enclosed in this letter.
Reply soon,
He Who Woke Up To Better Days
✎
Dear Jackson,
I’ll just give you copies when we meet in person. :) I don’t trust our postal service. They might give you a mangled version of my books. It would physically pain me to see it in that state.
I’m working on a new book right now, actually. We never know; maybe when we meet, the new book will be published. ^^
What makes a ‘normal’ friendship ‘normal’, anyway? Isn’t ‘normal’ kind of boring? I, personally, would rather have an unconventional friendship. It’s more fun that way. :))
Did the poem help? It’s an excerpt from a poem I wrote back in college. It kind of feels reminiscent of our current situation. Don’t you think so?
I’d like to think we’re already friends, by the way. :)
Can’t wait to hear back from you,
Your Weird Penpal
✎
After two months, Jinyoung quickly realized that he and Jackson clicked. Gone were the awkward exchanges and get-to-know-you vibes. They now complemented each other like peanut butter and jelly, like salt and pepper. The contents of their letters evolved every month, and they had been constantly sending each other movie recs, playlists, random questions, and even some inspirational quotes here and there. Neither of them were tea drinkers, though, so tea bags were unfortunately a no-go. They could talk about anything, and it would turn into an interesting conversation – albeit one that stretched out for weeks. They received each others’ letters every other week, after all.
He found that he didn’t mind the delay. In fact, he was looking forward to every meticulously-designed envelope that arrived. Even Yeonhee seemed happy for him whenever a new letter was dropped at the office.
Everything else in his life stayed constant. His friends still had to force him to do any non-essential activities (like eating dinner or listening to Jackson Wang songs), he still woke up questioning his choice of career, and subsequently got mad at himself for doubting in the first place. Everything stayed the same, but he swore his world turned a little bit brighter every time he received a letter from the writer-fencer-singer-dancer who lived in Hong Kong.
He should really thank Bambam for suggesting this in the first place.
Because not a single manuscript submission of his had been rejected yet.
✎
Nyoung-ah,
Jaebeom and Youngjae are at it again.
I am fed up with them being all gross and lovey-dovey!
Just the other day, I arrived at my apartment and they were making out on my kitchen counter ! In front of my salad!!!
They don’t even live with me! :/
From now on, I dub Yugyeom my only best friend.
Speaking of Yugyeom, I’m working on something new with him. ^–^ I really can’t thank you enough. You really helped me through my writer’s block.
It’s been really hectic, and I barely have time to breathe, but I realized that I’m enjoying my work a lot more because I read your letters during my down time. I’m glad I have you in my life now, Nyoung-ah. <3
Write back soon!
Jackson
✎
By month ten, Jinyoung was starting to freak out.
Jackson decided to drop the very formal ‘Dear Jinyoung’ and had been accustomed to starting his letters with ‘Nyoung-ah’ instead. He didn’t understand why his heart skipped a beat, or why he would feel heat rising to his cheeks every time Jackson addressed him that way.
He also had no idea why at some point, he had even resorted to daydreaming about how Jackson’s voice would sound like when he called him by that nickname.
It was a dangerous development, especially when the daydream would make itself known in times like these, when he was at a live press conference about his new book. He had to shake his head to dispel the strange thoughts muddling his brain.
“Pardon? What was the last question? Sorry, I’ve only been on my first cup of coffee,” Jinyoung admitted with a sheepish look directed to the reporter whose question he missed. The conference room filled with amused chuckles.
“I was just saying that many of us are curious who you dedicated your book to, Jinyoung-ssi,” the woman in a tight bun repeated with a warm smile. He was lucky the reporters in this press-con were very accomodating.
He let a small smile grace his face, thinking of the short dedication he wrote on the first page of his book.
Thanks To:
A certain someone who became precious to me in a matter of months.
I took a leap of faith and put my trust in you, and I don’t regret it.
In you, I found my strength to keep writing.
It’s not like he’ll find this book. What am I doing??
“I made a new friend a few months ago. I was in a really dark place, and had the worst bout of writer’s block. That friend helped me finish this book.”
“Your books usually have an underlying theme, what is it this time around? Why is the book called Person In Person?”
Jinyoung hummed while he thought of an appropriate answer for the follow up question.
“I just don’t think that we have to meet a person in person to form a connection.”
✎
There was definitely something weird bubbling deep in his gut. He knew what it was. He did, but he was terrified to name it – or worse, tell anyone else about it – because once he did, it would become real.
And wouldn’t it be a little absurd if it were real?
While he felt like he knew almost everything there was to know about Jackson except for his last name and what he looked like, he still didn’t know his last name and what he looked like. They hadn’t met in person, hadn’t met each others’ friends, and never even had the chance to hang out. Wasn’t it crazy that he had weird feelings for someone whose voice he hadn’t even heard yet?
Come to think of it, was Jackson even his real name?
On the other hand, months’ worth of their back-and-forth lent Jinyoung an exclusive peek to the inner workings of Jackson’s world. They had access to a page of each others’ book that no other person had seen.
Jinyoung got caught in the spiral that was his own overthinking mind for the next few days. He didn’t know how to send another letter to his penpal because he knew that his hand would be compelled to write his feelings down, sealing the absurdity of it all in permanent ink. So he delayed his reply in the hopes that he could lock his growing affection in the unreachable depths of his mind. Fortunately, he was also busy with the numerous book signings, tours, and interviews that filled up his schedule; it proved to be a good excuse to take a break from writing letters.
Trust Jackson to ruin his plans altogether.
Of course Jackson would beat him to the punchline. Of course the older would exceed his expectations.
Of course Jinyoung couldn’t even begin to repress his feelings; because the next day, Yeonhee waved another envelope under his nose.
Confused, he blinked at the secretary’s outstretched hand for a few moments before he took the envelope and bid a distracted goodbye. He got to the safety of his apartment walls on autopilot, and opened the envelope in the living room, impatient eyes skimming through Jackson’s short letter.
He grinned, wondering if the writer-fencer-singer-dancer from Hong Kong could add ‘mind-reader’ to his impressive resumé.
✎
Nyoung-ah,
I think I like you.
I think I like like you.
Is it a crazy thing to say? My friends think I’m stupid and that I fell too easily. They keep insisting that it’s weird because you’re behind this veil of anonymity; that we never even met in person. That THEY never even met you or talked to you to ‘screen’ you, whatever that means. They said I shouldn’t trust you.
But that’s the problem. They’ve never talked to you before. They don’t understand the connection we have. I don’t think they’ll ever understand how important you became to me even if we’ve never met in person. I’m mad at them now, just so you know. They have no right to say bad things about you like that. >:(
You’ll still reply to me, right?
Jackson
✎
Seun-ah,
Is it crazy to say that I like you too?
Don’t get too mad at your friends, though. They’re just worried about you.
I’m too nervous to say anything else,
Jinyoung
✎
Three weeks passed, and Jinyoung didn’t get a response.
At this point in their relationship (could they even call it that?), it was only proper for Jackson to say something back, right? At the very least, Jackson shouldn’t be instilling fear and worry in Jinyoung’s mind by staying silent after he just said he liked Jackson back. The audacity. The sheer audacity!
Just as he was about to bang his forehead to his kitchen island, he heard someone burst through his apartment door. His friends always had the best timing.
“Jinyoung hyung!! Jackson released a new single! You gotta hear it, it’s a BOP!” He heard Bambam screech as the younger barrelled through his living room. Jinyoung rolled his eyes and called his friends to the kitchen.
“I take it you haven’t heard it yet?” Mark stated with a serious voice, sending him a judgement-filled glare. He just laughed and shook his head. Mark’s glare intensified.
“Okay, I’ll listen to it! Chill! What’s it called? Here, let’s stream it on my laptop,” Jinyoung conceded, and walked with the other two to his couch.
“It’s called Miles. He just released the music video two hours ago,” Bambam mumbled as he typed on the Youtube search bar. “I’ve only heard it five times, but it’s definitely in my top three Jackson Wang songs now.”
“What a bold claim from a life-long Team Wang fan,” Jinyoung joked with a grin and leaned into the soft couch as the soothing melody floated through his living room. The song made him feel like he was cruising through calm waters until element after element was added to the melody and Jackson Wang’s raspy, emotion-filled voice belted out the chorus.
Feelin’ like a plane about to crash
What am I supposed to do?
Don’t mean to be so brash
Fell for someone that I barely knew
Baby if you looked me in the eyes
You’d know you’re in my heart
We stare up at the same skies
though our shores are miles apart
Jinyoung jerked up from his comfortable position on the couch, and his best friends startled at his sudden movement.
Is that–
With wide eyes and wobbly knees, he rushed to his study to unearth a tan, leather-bound notebook. He flipped through the pages frantically, gasping when he found the right page.
We stare up at the same skies
though our shores are miles apart
Was he hallucinating? There was no way this was happening. It had to be an uncanny coincidence.
Unless…
Clutching his notebook, he made his way back to the living room and plopped back down between Mark and Bambam. He couldn’t shake the goosebumps that traveled through his body.
“You ok, Jinyoung?” Mark mumbled, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I–” Jinyoung started, tempering the urge to throw up. “Look.”
He flipped the pages to the right one, and his friends trailed their eyes to the notebook on his lap.
“Huh??” Bambam exclaimed, his confused stare switching between Jinyoung’s notebook and pale face. “How is this possible?”
“I… I sent this to him,” Jinyoung declared in a whisper. “I sent this to Jackson.”
Mark’s eyes went wide, and Jinyoung knew the eldest finally caught on.
“Oh shit. Your penpal is Jackson Wang!” Mark affirmed, looking as spooked as Jinyoung felt.
“What?” Bambam barked. Jinyoung couldn’t do anything but nod.
Jinyoung’s mind was still reeling from the fresh piece of information. He supposed it did make sense, in hindsight.
His penpal lived in Hong Kong.
His penpal liked singing and dancing, but sometimes needed a distraction from it.
His penpal was friends with a music producer and a choreographer.
王嘉尔 was probably pronounced Wang Jia Er. He didn’t even think to check.
How had he not figured it out?
“Hyung, this is perfect timing!” Bambam exclaimed after a few minutes of contemplative silence.
“What? Why?” Mark answered for him.
“All I see, hyungs, is an opportunity,” Bambam announced with a confident smile. “Didn’t you ever wonder how I copped our VIP tickets at Jackson’s concert last year?”
“I just figured you had a friend who worked for the concert organizer or something,” Jinyoung mumbled, not following the younger’s train of thought.
“Well, you’re half right. Do you remember the childhood friend I talked about earlier? The one who sent me the link to the penpal website that started it all? His name’s Kim Yugyeom,” Bambam declared.
“Kim Yugyeom? Like Jackson’s best friend and personal choreographer, Kim Yugyeom?!” Mark roared in disbelief.
“Yup, that Yugyeom! He’s been my best bud since fifth grade, but he had to move to Hong Kong for middle school.”
“How are we just finding this out now?”
“Didn’t think I was allowed to tell you,” Bambam shrugged then grinned mischievously, “But none of that matters now.”
“What are you planning?” Jinyoung mumbled, his emotions warring between confusion and nervousness.
“Well, Gyeom told me they scheduled a tour after promotions for this comeback. Seoul is their last destination, and the concert will happen in two months. I was going to keep it secret, but I already secured backstage passes for the three of us.”
“Bam, that’s– wow,” Mark mumbled.
“So, hyungs, the plan is for the two lovebirds to finally meet in person. I already set the stage, all you have to do is show up and tell him you’re his Jinyoung!”
“His Jin– I–”
“You’ll be fine, Jinyoungie,” Mark soothed with a smile. “Both of you already know each other well. You’re just putting faces to your names.”
“Yeah hyung, it would be a great surprise for him. Especially since it would be the last concert for his tour. You’d make it so memorable for him!”
“So I shouldn’t tell him through a letter? I should just let him know after his concert?”
“Yeah, Jinyoungie. Don’t you think it would be sweeter as a surprise?”
✎
Nyoung-ah,
I’m so sorry I replied to your letter late!
I’ve been really busy! My schedule has been hellish these past few weeks. TT___TT
Anyway, I’m going to Seoul for work soon! Let’s finally meet up? I’ve been dying to hear your voice and see your face. :D
Excited to meet you,
Your Seun-ah <3
✎
Jinyoung managed to keep his cool after that whirlwind of a day.
Mostly.
Sometimes, he would still go dizzy with the knowledge that the person he liked (and who liked him back!) was a world-renowned pop star. A world-renowned pop star who was, incidentally, a hundred percent his type. How could he not be, with his chiseled features and sultry voice?
Other times, he’d stare at the wall and wonder what he did in his past life to deserve all of this.
Then, two months flew by quicker than Jinyoung would’ve liked.
The next thing he knew, he was making his way inside the KSPO Dome in his favorite striped shirt and khaki pants (for luck), flanked by his best friends and buzzing with both excitement and disquiet.
He could hardly even focus on the concert, not when the object of his affections was right there. In person. The idol was clad in a shimmery red outfit, and from his seat, Jinyoung could actually see some beads of sweat run down the side of the older’s face. Jackson Wang was clearly made for the stage, especially with the way the other swayed his hips to the music, or just how content the other looked when he pointed his mic at the audience so they could sing along. He’d already seen Jackson perform live before, but things were different now. Now, he wasn’t just looking at the run-of-the-mill idol, he was looking at the man who built everything he had from the ground up. The man who cherished his friends and family above all else, who wanted to make his own brand of history. Now, he wasn’t just looking at Jackson Wang, he was looking at his Seun-ah – the man who captured Jinyoung’s heart and sealed it in a letter envelope.
And despite everything, all he could think about was what he would say to Jackson in less than two hours.
Mark nudged his side, probably sensing how wound up he was.
“Don’t think too much. Enjoy the concert first.”
He let his worries out with a long sigh, and calmed down a little. Smiling at Mark in gratitude, he let himself get lost in the music.
✎
“You each get five minutes max with him, alright?”
Jinyoung nodded stiffly, eyes darting from his friends to the manager standing between him and the curtain to the backstage. He stood in a small crowd of ten other people, all waiting for their chance to speak to their favorite artist.
Jackson wasn’t really his favorite artist, but it was apparent that he was one of his favorite people. Not that the fans around him deserved to know that.
When Jackson’s manager seemed to be convinced that the fans understood what she said, she draped the curtain back so their little group could step into the normally-restricted section of the stage.
Jinyoung held in a gasp when they walked closer and he caught a glimpse of the man he fell for. He looked so much better up close. Jackson was only wearing his encore shirt and jeans, but he had an alluring aura around him. Maybe it could be attributed to the so-called post concert glow. Jinyoung filed this information under his mind’s list of Just Jackson Things.
He silently stepped to the back of the group. The last thing he wanted was for him and Jackson to have their “moment”, only for it to be cut short because another fan had to cash in their five minutes.
As he watched the other fans interact with the man clad in a white shirt and sweatpants, he felt the tension drift away from his body – worry replaced with fondness. Jackson was obviously tired, but his smiles were genuine, and he had a jolly tone when he talked to each of his fans. He even sounded like he already made friends with Bambam and Mark.That was certainly a strange sight. He hid a laugh behind his palm, amused.
Soon enough, Jackson took a picture with the last fan, and the staff around the idol fussed around him, no doubt discussing post-concert matters. Jinyoung waited until the crowd around Jackson thinned before he called out to the person he’d been waiting months to physically greet.
“Seun-ah.”
He saw Jackson’s body go rigid. The staff that he was talking to was rightfully confused, asking the idol if he was okay. Jackson didn’t seem to give the staff an answer. Instead, the singer whipped his head around to where Jinyoung was standing.
Jinyoung offered a small smile and a shy wave. Jackson’s face lit up like the sun on a bright summer day.
“Nyoung-ah!”
✎
We stare up at the same skies,
though our shores are miles apart,
wishing for the stars to align;
for our destiny to start