Chapter Text
People are destined to fall together and fall apart. That was the way of the world, and it had been so for thousands of generations, since before the first words of history were written. There was someone for everyone, like a matching set, and the purpose of life was to find that someone. Of course, they’d explained it all with science decades ago; something about complementary immune systems and pheromone pairs. Still, people preferred the romantic idea of couples drawn together by the string of fate, and so the old name stuck: every human had a soulmate, another person who was supposed to complete them (implying, of course, that someone who hadn’t found their soulmate was incomplete, an idea which Changbin resented, but that was beside the point). Unfortunately, whatever evolutionary mechanism or higher power or whatever had come up with the brilliant idea of soulmates had not accounted for the trials and tribulations of modern life. In the end, biology was no match for capitalism. And as hot as these fated loves burned, they tended to collapse just as brightly, like a star exploding into a supernova. Even so, people clung to the tradition, hunting down their soulmates as if their lives depended on it. Luckily, they weren’t searching blindly.
“And then he said it, and I knew,” said Jisung loudly to the poor girl standing at the bar next to them, who clearly wasn’t interested. Neither was Changbin for that matter; Jisung told this story at least once every time they went out. He always made it sound insanely romantic, which was especially funny given what had actually happened.
“Do you want to know what he said?” Jisung asked the girl excitedly.
“She doesn’t,” Changbin muttered at the same time as the girl forced a polite nod.
See, every person was born with a single phrase running through their head; that phrase, called a “golden line,” was like a secret password that allowed you to immediately recognize your soulmate. Scientists had tried for millennia to figure that one out; the closest they’d gotten was something about non-linear time and generational memory. Changbin figured it was some sort of curse. At least, for him it was.
Jisung pressed on. “He looked at me, offered me his hand, and said ‘oh, it’s you.’ Isn’t that so cute?” He always failed to mention that the reason he was on the ground in the first place was that he tripped on a power cord and spilled his iced coffee all over Minho. He also tended to leave out the full phrase Minho had said to him, which was “oh, it’s you, the one who always asks the dumb questions in my art history class.” Or how when Jisung had first told Minho that he was his soulmate, Minho had flat out denied it. Which had prompted Jisung to utter Minho’s golden line, which was ‘wait, what?’” To which Minho had replied: “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Changbin thought that version of the story was much funnier.
The girl muttered a half-hearted agreement before flinging herself from the bar at a passing friend. Jisung tended to have that effect on people. Still, it never seemed to bother him.
“Want another drink?” he said, turning to Changbin as if nothing had happened.
“Please,” Changbin replied, trying not to sound desperate. “Vodka soda.”
“Jeez man,” Jisung looked at him with concern, “we’re there already?”
“An Aperol spritz for me please,” Hyunjin smiled at the bartender as he slid between the two of them. “On him.” He gestured vaguely at Jisung.
“I’m not paying for that,” Jisung complained, but Hyunjin threw him a wink, and Jisung sighed and handed the bartender his card.
“Jinnie,” Changbin greeted Hyunjin, bumping him amicably with his shoulder.
“Binnie,” the other acknowledged. “Did I make it in time for the weekly retelling of the Minsung origin story?”
“You just missed it,” Changbin teased, “some poor sophomore had to suffer in your place.” They both laughed at the shout of protest from a red-faced Jisung.
“You’re just too predictable, Han Jisung.” Hyunjin always knew how to get under Jisung’s skin.
“Well, at least my boyfriend is in this city. Yours is probably cheating on you with like…Chris Hemsworth or something right now.”
Hyunjin flipped him the bird in response, but Changbin didn’t miss the way he absentmindedly rubbed the silver ring he always wore on his left index finger. “When does Felix come back anyway?” he asked. He already knew the answer of course, but he wanted to dispel the energy crackling between his two roommates. They were the best of friends, but they were a little too good at working each other up.
“Next week. Saturday.” Hyunjin’s soulmate, Felix, was a junior, a year below Hyunjin and Changbin, and the same age as Jisung. He’d spent the fall semester studying abroad in Australia and was finally making his return to JYPU next week. Hyunjin claimed he was fine without him, but Changbin knew him well enough to know he was counting down the days.
“We’re throwing a party, right?” Their final roommate, Chan, had materialized from the crowd. Chan and Felix had grown up together, and Chan thought of him like a little brother. He’d been the one to introduce Felix to Hyunjin at the start of their sophomore year. Turns out Felix’s golden line had been “Chan, are you gonna introduce me to your cute friend?”
“Of course we are,” Jisung declared, putting his arms around Hyunjin and Chan on either side of him. “Racha House’s first kegger of the semester.” When the four of them were looking for houses off-campus last year, they made sure to find the place with the biggest backyard available. Everybody knew Chan, which made the rest of them popular by association. Racha House quickly became known as the party capital of JYPU, fueled by Jisung’s surprising talent as a DJ and Hyunjin’s…well, face. Sometimes Changbin felt like he was the only one who didn’t bring something to the table; every time they threw a party, his roommates would work the room while Changbin sulked in the corner. He’d come to dread the occasions–they just made him feel worse about himself.
It wasn’t that Changbin resented his friends. It was the opposite actually; he genuinely loved watching them shine. But each of their strengths was a stark reminder of what he lacked; Hyunjin’s ethereal beauty, Chan’s dimpled smile, Jisung’s odds-defying people skills. Now, this certainly wasn’t the greatest feeling, but it also wasn’t enough to cause Changbin to hate parties. He knew what he lacked, but he also knew what he had. Namely, he was a good friend, and he was intelligent, and if he was being quite honest, his rigorous gym schedule was starting to show results. Really, none of that was the problem; no, the problem was something that was out of his control altogether, which made it all the more frustrating. See, Changbin’s problem was this: he didn’t have a soulmate.
You’re being dramatic, Changbin thought to himself. There were people out there who truly didn’t have a soulmate. He did have a soulmate, in the sense that his soulmate existed, he just hadn’t met them yet. Which was no big deal. Except for the fact that most people meet their soulmates before they turn eighteen. Except for the fact that every single one of his friends had met theirs already. Except for the fact that as much as he hated to admit it, he could feel the absence like a phantom limb. He hated that this was something he worried about, hated that his happiness was staked on another person. But facts are facts: Seo Changbin was a senior in college, going on twenty-two, and he was lonely.
The four boys spent the rest of the night leaning against the bar, chatting idly. It was their first night back from winter break, their last first night of the semester. And sure, they could’ve just stayed at home and probably spent considerably less money, but it was a matter of principle. Domino was their favorite bar, and they’d spent every first night here since the second semester of freshman year. Now that Changbin, Chan, and Hyunjin were all over 21, it made things significantly easier. And since Jisung was with them, he never had any problems either.
“I can’t believe you guys are leaving me next year,” Jisung whined, drawing a fake tear down his cheek.
“Do not bring up the g-word,” Hyunjin hissed.
“If you don’t start going to class there might not be a g-word for you, Jinnie,” teased Changbin as he elbowed his roommate playfully in the ribs.
“On that note,” Chan cut in, “last round’s on me, and then I say we get out of here.” Hearing no protests from the group, he ordered a round of tequila shots, complete with salt and lime on the side. When they’d all received their drink, he began a toast. “To us,” he started, “to an amazing last semester together. To Hyunjin’s GPA, to my liver, to Jisung’s future, and to Changbin finding his soulmate.”
“To us!” they all echoed, but as the shot burned his throat, all Changbin felt was empty.
“I’ve got cups!” Felix shouted cheerfully as he strolled into the backyard, ignoring Chan and Changbin as they struggled to lift a third keg over the retaining wall at the back of the yard. Hyunjin followed close behind; they had not left each other’s side since Felix had returned to campus that morning.
“Oi, Felix!” came a voice from inside the house. A tall girl with bleach-blonde hair came bounding out the back door, scooping Felix up in a hug.
“Hi Rosie,” Felix greeted her, blushing a little as she ruffled his hair.
“How was it? Do you feel like a real Aussie yet? Tell me everything.” Rosie usually toned down her accent, so much so that Changbin sometimes forgot she was even Australian, but today it was out in full force. Chan followed her with his eyes, chuckling fondly.
As Rosie began to grill Felix on every second of his time in her home country, Chan turned to Hyunjin and Changbin. “Have either of you heard from Jisung yet? He’s been gone suspiciously long.”
Just then, Changbin felt a buzz in his pocket. “Speak of the devil,” he said as he pulled out his phone.
“Hey buddy,” Jisung said sweetly as soon as Changbin answered the call, in a tone that told him immediately he was going to ask for a favor.
“What do you want, Han?” Changbin asked, wary.
“You think so poorly of me,” Jisung cried in fake offense, “can’t I just call to ask how my best friend in the whole world is doing on this fine Saturday?”
“Uh huh. I’m fine. Anything else I can do for you?”
“Actually, now that you mention it…” Changbin rolled his eyes, “...I know we said no underclassmen, but Minho was wondering if he could bring two of his residents? They won’t cause any problems–”
Changbin cut him off. “Aren’t you the one who said no underclassmen?”
Jisung paused, “I thought it was Hyunjin?”
Changbin sighed. “Well either way I don’t give a shit who comes, tell him he can bring them. Who are they anyway?” Lee Minho, Jisung’s soulmate, was an RA in one of the dorms on campus, and he was always adopting underclassmen to take on as some sort of protege. Changbin figured this was just another one of his crusades to “improve the lives” of some poor unsuspecting sophomores.
“Their names are Seungmin and Jeongin. He says they’re kind of weird, but like in a fun way? I don’t really know what that means.”
“Why not? Bring ‘em.” Changbin was beyond caring at this point. He just wanted the party to be over.
“Okay, cool thanks Binnieee–” Jisung sang, drawing out the last syllable until Changbin hung up the call.
As the sun set behind the trees, people began to trickle into the yard. Jisung and Minho had arrived with the first wave of guests, Jisung promptly insulting Changbin’s music taste and kicking him off aux to play a song which, to Changbin, sounded exactly the same as the song he’d been playing. Changbin knew from experience that it was best not to argue.
As the scattered groups of people in the yard grew and consolidated into a single pulsating crowd, Changbin found himself nursing a beer, wishing he was drunker while at the same time wincing at every sip. Just after ten, he tagged in for Hyunjin at the gate; his shift wasn’t supposed to start until eleven, but he wasn’t doing anything and he could tell by the hungry stares Hyunjin and Felix were giving each other that they wanted to be anywhere else. The pair scampered inside, hand-in-hand, as soon as he relieved them. Changbin sighed, getting comfortable on the old bar stool they’d placed on the sidewalk. He, Chan, and Hyunjin had stolen it from Domino during their freshman year. He smiled fondly at the memory.
Almost as soon as he’d sat down, Minho slid out of the gate, pushing against the steady line of partygoers moving in the opposite direction. “Hey,” he said simply, resting his hand lightly on Changbin’s shoulder. His face was slightly flushed, the way it got when he’d had a drink or two.
“Hey,” Changbin said back, “how was your break?”
“It was okay. Yours?”
“It was nice.”
The conversation faded, although it was a comfortable silence. When Jisung had first introduced Minho to the rest of them, Changbin had been wary. Minho was reserved and sarcastic, a foil to Jisung, who wore his emotions on his sleeve. However, after Changbin had spent more time around him, he was able to see how much Minho cared for his friend in his own Minho way. In the end, he and Minho had fallen into a familiar rhythm; he was the one friend who let Changbin take as much silence as he needed without asking any questions. Changbin appreciated that about him.
“Hey, weren’t you bringing some of your residents to this?” Changbin asked, suddenly remembering his phone call with Jisung.
“Ah,” Minho breathed, pushing off from where he was leaning against Changbin, “that’s why I came out here.” He swayed a bit on his feet; okay, maybe it was more than two , Changbin thought.
“You want company on the walk?” Changbin tried his best to sound nonchalant; if Minho knew he was asking because Changbin thought he was drunk, he’d never go for it.
“Don’t you need to watch the gate?”
“Nah, the no underclassmen thing is Hyunjin’s rule, and I think he’s a little…busy right now.”
A conspiratorial smile spread across Minho’s face. “I saw that.”
Changbin chuckled, stretching as he stood up. “Let’s go get some freshies!”
“They’re sophomores actually,” Minho corrected him.
“Whatever,” Changbin replied, waving his hand dismissively.
As they walked, Changbin thanked his younger self for choosing to go to school somewhere warm. Though there was a chill in the night air, it was nothing like where he’d grown up; he was comfortable in jeans and a light jacket. Minho, meanwhile, was shivering in his fuzzy sweater and ripped jeans, making the pearls around his neck clack against each other. Jisung had gotten him that necklace last Valentine’s Day; Changbin had grown so fed up with listening to him agonize over what to get that he’d just pointed to something random at the jewelry store. Apparently, Minho had mentioned wanting a pearl necklace once, and Jisung had thanked him profusely for his unintentional gift-giving genius. Changbin sighed again; he was wasting his talents on somebody else’s soulmate. He shrugged his jacket off, and without saying anything, placed it over Minho’s shoulders.
Minho smiled fondly at him. “Someone’s gonna be very lucky to have you, Changbin,” he stated, bumping him softly with his arm.
“I hope so,” Changbin muttered under his breath.
“Hey,” Minho said, stopping suddenly, “don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“The whole ‘no one wants me’ act. You’re a catch, Changbin, really. You know I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” Changbin mumbled. It felt strangely like he was being scolded by his mother.
“You know, people ask me all the time if you’re single. Really! And I know you’re waiting for the whole soulmate thing, and that’s fine, I’m not faulting you for that. I just wish you’d stop comparing yourself to Jisung and them. You’re all good in your own ways.”
“Thanks, Minho,” Changbin started, “that does make me feel better. It’s just hard you know, seeing them get everything I want. And of course, I’m happy for them because they’re my friends, but…”
“You don’t always have to be happy for them, you know,” Minho cut in, “Jisung is a dick sometimes, I know that firsthand. But you’re allowed to be upset about this. It’s not fair, even if it’s not their fault.”
Changbin smiled. “When did you get so wise, Lee Minho?” he teased.
“I’ve always been, duh. The universe knew someone needed to have brains, and it wasn’t gonna be Jisung.” They both laughed at that. “You know what?” Minho said suddenly.
“Oh god, what?”
“I bet that you’ll meet your soulmate by the end of this semester.”
“I don’t know man, I just don’t think it’s in the cards for me.”
“Nope, I’m sure of it. So sure that I’m willing to put money on it– well, not money, because I’m poor, but something.”
“I don’t-” Changbin started, before cutting himself off. “You know what? I’ll take that wager.”
“How about this? If you find your soulmate before we graduate in May, you have to wear heels at graduation.”
“And if you’re wrong? What are you gonna do for me?”
Minho tilted his head in thought for a while before locking eyes with Changbin, an evil smile spreading across his face. “I’ll tell Jisung I hooked up with Hyunjin freshman year.” This was possibly the biggest secret in their friend group. Of course, it was all above the table; none of them had even met Jisung at that point, and only Chan had known Felix. Still, Jisung had a weird complex when it came to Hyunjin, so while Hyunjin had told Felix about it long ago, Jisung was still in the dark.
“Jeez, Minho that's…” Changbin trailed off. Then, he grinned maniacally and stuck out his hand, “you’re on.”
Minho grabbed his hand and shook it hard. “May the best man win. And the best man is me. I’ll win.” Changbin just shook his head fondly.
As they approached the dorms, Minho pulled out his ID, tapping it at the security gate and tugging Changbin through close behind him. Technically, he was supposed to sign Changbin in as a visitor, but he was an RA in this building, and the security guard paid him no mind. Minho was the only one of Changbin’s friends who still lived on campus. They all teased him, but the RA job paid his bills, and Minho was also the type to enjoy having power over underclassmen, so the role fit him.
They took the elevator up to the fourth floor, Changbin following Minho absentmindedly as they walked down the hall. They stopped before a door, and Minho raised his fist to knock. The theme for this floor was apparently “food”. There were two pictures taped to the door; a piece of bread with the name “Jeongin” written on it in sharpie, and an egg with the name “Seungmin.” Changbin raised an eyebrow at Minho, who sighed, whispering “don’t judge me, I got lazy.” He knocked on the door.
Changbin heard shouting from inside the room, and after a few seconds, a blonde boy with a fox-shaped face opened the door. He looked confused for a second, but his eyes brightened as soon as he saw Minho.
“RA Minho!” he said excitedly.
“Jeongin, I told you not to call me that.”
“Sorry, sir!” he chirped, and Changbin swore he almost saluted. What kind of operation was Minho running here?
Minho just shook his head. “Should we go?” he asked.
“We’re almost ready…well, I am ready, but someone else is obsessing over his eyeliner.”
“I am not!” came the shout of protest from inside the room.
Jeongin pulled the door open the whole way, inviting them into the room. It was a fairly normal-looking dorm room; the room itself was essentially a large square, with twin beds pushed against the walls on either side. Near the door, there were two matching wardrobes, and against the far wall were two identical desks. A door to the left led to the bathroom–sophomores at least got private bathrooms. Changbin shivered as he remembered the shared bathroom in his freshman dorm.
Though the room was divided evenly, the two sides were far from identical. One side looked like the Target college collection had thrown up on it; matching pillow cases and bedspreads in a muted gray, generic band posters, and the same tapestry Changbin had seen in every other dorm he’d ever been in. The only touch of personality was the stuffed fox toy resting on the bed and the messy spread of books on the desk. The other side of the room looked vaguely like the bedroom of a ten-year-old boy. The walls were bare, save for a few photos taped near the bed; Changbin raised his eyebrows at the baseball sheets. However, unlike the other side, this side of the room was meticulously clean: math and science textbooks were stacked neatly on the desk, the bed was made, and all the stray clothes on the floor seemed to have been pushed to the other side of the room. Changbin pulled out one of the desk chairs and sat down.
Minho had slipped into the bathroom as soon as they’d entered, and Changbin could hear him arguing quietly with the person inside; Seungmin, he figured. Changbin looked up at Jeongin, who was staring at him wide-eyed, looking slightly terrified.
“I’m Changbin,” he said calmly, trying not to spook the younger boy, “I’m friends with Minho. The party’s at my house.”
Jeongin just stared at him for a second, before his brain caught up. “Oh!” he exclaimed, finally cracking a smile, “thanks for inviting us!”
Changbin huffed out a laugh; this kid was cute. “No problem, man. Why don’t you tell your friend to hurry up though, we don’t want you guys to miss anything.”
Just as Jeongin turned to shout at his roommate, Minho stepped out of the bathroom, leading someone by the hand. Changbin’s breath caught in his throat.
Seungmin was taller than Changbin had expected; he had a few inches on Minho, who was already taller than Changbin. He had fluffy brown hair that fell haphazardly across his forehead, brushing the rims of his large glasses. His long legs were clad in a pair of stylish plaid pants, into which he’d tucked an oversized t-shirt for some baseball team Changbin didn’t recognize. That looks vintage , Changbin thought approvingly. He was wearing a barely noticeable amount of eyeshadow, which, judging from the products Minho was shoving back into his bag, had probably been applied by the older boy while they were in the bathroom. Changbin found his eyes drawn to the other boy’s lips. They were set in a firm line, and glistened slightly with gloss. Changbin swallowed thickly.
“Everyone tell Seungminnie that he looks pretty so that we can leave,” Minho ordered, ignoring Seungmin’s grunt of protest.
“You look very pretty, Seungminnie,” Jeongin parroted obediently. Changbin opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out.
“See, Seungmin, you left Changbin speechless,” Minho looked at him incredulously, eyebrow raised.
Changbin stuttered something that was not a word. Seungmin’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that hit Changbin like a punch to the gut. “Wow,” he breathed finally.
Seungmin’s eyes widened, almost imperceptively, and the color drained from his face like he’d seen a ghost. Then, he shook his head slightly, and his expression returned to normal, all within the space of a blink.
Changbin was about to fake a stroke when suddenly, something clicked in his brain. “Wait, I know you from somewhere,” he said, miraculously regaining the ability to speak.
“You do,” Seungmin replied (good lord he had braces ), “you were in my calculus class last year. Dr. Park.”
“Right, right,” Changbin mused, trying and failing to sound cool, “you sat at the front and answered all the questions.”
“You sat in the back and failed every test.”
Minho snorted as Changbin took a second to recover from that. “I didn’t fail them, I just…didn’t do particularly well.”
“Sure,” Seungmin said, a wry smile appearing on his face. Changbin had never felt so out of his depth in his life.
“Don’t mind him,” Jeongin said amicably, stepping in front of his roommate as if to shield Changbin from the maddening effect Seungmin was having on him, “he’s just like that.”
“Okay,” Changbin knew he sounded stupid, but he couldn’t seem to make his brain form a coherent thought.
“Okay then,” Minho pushed Seungmin toward the door impatiently, “let’s get going before we miss the damn party.”