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20 December 2024
Taerae doesn’t consider himself to be a rule-breaker. Not usually. He also doesn’t consider himself to be the type to believe in superstition. For the most part, he is rational. Level-headed. Grounded in reality. Etcetera, etcetera…
If there’s such a thing as ghosts, he’ll have to see irrefutable proof of it to believe it, and not just a shudder of a draught, or a creak in the floorboards. If there’s a zombie apocalypse, he’d do what he can to survive within the parameters of the resources available to him — but if he’s meant to die, he’ll just die. No big deal. If he’s dropped into the middle of the ocean, right in the thick of a swirling shiver of sharks…
You get the picture.
So, of course, when faced with the predicament of ‘kiss your best friend’s boyfriend’s insufferable best friend or deal with seven years of bad luck’, Taerae would much rather take his chances on the bad luck.
It all starts with a Christmas party, some well-disguised mistletoe, and an oblivious Taerae sitting right under it.
But before all that—
“Hey, diva,” Taerae’s best friend, Hao, greets him at the door. He gets pulled into a strong, one-armed hug. A kiss is pressed against his cold cheek and a Santa hat is thrown over his head. “Almost thought you wouldn’t make it.”
Taerae shrugs out of his peacoat and hangs it on the rack by the door. By the sounds of it, the festivities are well under way. The chatter and cheer and Christmas music have made it all the way to the front door.
“Almost didn’t. They wanted me to stay back ‘til closing today,” Taerae huffs. He takes off his gloves and leaves them with the coat. He nods towards the din at the end of the hall. “Sounds like you guys are partying hard.”
Hao shrugs. “They’ve just got a Mario Kart tournament going on the big screen. You won’t believe how much cheating is happening right now. I didn’t realise our friends were so…”
“Unethical?”
“I was going to say competitive.” Zhang Hao’s grin settles into something serious. “Taerae. This is the first Christmas gathering I’m hosting with Hanbin.”
“I know that.”
“Could I count on you not to get into it with Matthew tonight?”
Taerae grits his teeth. “Yeah.”
“How convincing.”
“Look, if he stays out of my way, we shouldn’t have a problem.”
Hao scrunches his brows and sighs, the same expression he dons when one of his kindergarteners tells a fib. “Or, you could, you know — try and have an actual conversation with him.”
“Why would I put myself through that?”
As they enter the dimly-lit living room, Taerae notices three things.
One: the spirit of Christmas itself might have thrown up all over the place. Both Hao and Hanbin have never been minimalists, and paired with their sentimentality and joint habit of collecting trinkets and plushies, their apartment is almost always one big, warm, homely mess. This time, it’s Christmas-themed!
Two: the Mario Kart game underway is intense. Needlessly so. They’re on Wario’s Goldmine and it looks like Gyuvin, Hanbin, Yujin and Jiwoong were playing. Taerae spies Gyuvin being shoulder-checked by Gunwook and Ricky, while Yujin and Hanbin cover each other’s eyes and try not to swerve off the track. Jiwoong is the only one with enough sense to stand behind the couch, away from the rowdiness, but it also looks like he’s two whole laps behind the rest.
And three: Matthew stands in his lonesome by the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he watches another chaotic round unfold in the living room. He nurses a mug in his hands and a tiny, content smile on his lips. His soft brown locks fall over his eyes. Tacked on his head is a pair of light-up reindeer ears. He wears a fuzzy maroon Christmas sweater with snowflakes embroidered on the front. Taerae scowls at the sight of him.
Matthew turns his eyes to the end of the hallway, and upon spotting Taerae, grins. All innocent and unassuming, as if he isn’t the bane of Taerae’s existence.
“Play nice,” Hao mutters, before leaving his side.
Taerae turns his apathetic gaze from Matthew to the back of Hao’s head. He follows behind, and plonks down in the only empty seat, a recliner chair facing the television. He is greeted by a few cursory ‘Taerae!’s, but is otherwise largely ignored in favour of the game.
He is curled up in his corner, content to observe his friends play dirty while he unwinds from his long shift at the bookstore. His peace is disturbed, however, by a sudden weight descending on the armrest of his seat.
“Hey.”
Immediately, Taerae’s heart rate spikes. His blood pressure too, probably. There goes his plans to ignore Seok Matthew for the rest of the evening.
“Matthew.”
“How was work?” Matthew says casually, leaning against the headrest of his chair.
Taerae scoffs. “Yeah. Fine.”
“Ouch, feisty even when we’re tired? What happened to the Christmas spirit?” Matthew smirks down at him. “You know, you're gonna have to let go of this little one-sided feud of yours one of these days.”
“Clearly, you don’t know me, Matthew, and how willing I am to die on my chosen hills.”
He thinks that’s the end of that conversation, that he can go back to lounging in his comfy chair before dinner and (as these gatherings usually go) charades and Mafia, but he is sorely mistaken.
Matthew’s warm breath fans against his ear. “That’s a shame.”
“What?” he says. He makes the mistake of turning his head to Matthew.
They’re mere inches from each other. Even Matthew, who had been the one to lean down in the first place, seems caught off-guard.
Matthew recovers quickly. “We could have been such a hot couple.”
Taerae groans and swats him on the shoulder. “Maybe in your dreams.”
The truth is, Matthew is right. They could have been a hot couple. Except Matthew went and fucked it up. Though, he would say Taerae just has a stick up his ass.
About a year ago, when Hao and Hanbin were still in their blissful honeymoon phase, when everything was roses and rainbows for them, they had the bright idea to set up their conveniently single best friends.
Just one date, Hao promised. He’s so cute. And just your type!
Only, Taerae had been in the middle of his strenuous internship, and Matthew had been… aloof. Airheaded, almost. Why they had both agreed to go is still a mystery. Perhaps it had been the bitter reminder of loneliness that underlines the happiness for your best friends finding love.
It made for a terrible first date. Matthew was fifteen minutes late, getting the time wrong and believing he’d been fifteen minutes early. He had also gotten the date mixed up for the reservation, so they had nowhere to eat. They were left to walk around the block for an hour looking for any available table in another restaurant.
Matthew’s optimism only fuelled his annoyance more.
He’d tried to apologise, but Taerae was already high strung. It manifested in him being impatient, snappy and unimpressed. They ended up arguing over everything. What to eat, what to drink, their movie opinions and theories, what songs to sing in the shower. Even about the weather. Even about time.
Usually, Taerae is open minded about these things. Eases into the banter and plays along with the little jabs and falls into a flirty, verbal game of chess. But it had been too late — he had already made up his mind about Matthew.
In hindsight, perhaps Taerae really did have a stick up his ass that night.
By the end of it all, Matthew had shrugged on his jacket and said, “This was fun, we should do this again,” to which Taerae responded, “Not even if you were the last man on Earth.”
What ensued was a whole year of relentless bickering, to Hao and Hanbin’s utter disdain. When it came to Matthew, Taerae was determined to be contrarian. Annoyingly so. Not a good idea when he is also easily riled up. On Matthew’s part, he appeared jovial, teasing Taerae with a cocky grin until he snapped.
There have been a handful of times, though, where Taerae had been able to get right under his skin, causing him to be on the receiving end of the iciest cold shoulder he’s ever experienced in his life. Those don’t exactly make him feel victorious.
Fast forward to the present, the very sight of Matthew makes his skin crawl.
(Amongst other things, but Taerae would much rather ignore those, thank you very much.)
“Oh,” Hao says, coming to an abrupt stop in front of Taerae, cradling a silver bowl. He looks at him, and then at Matthew, who was still lounging on the armrest. “Normally, I wouldn’t bring this up because it’s you two, but, um—”
“What?”
“You see, Hanbin and I watched a drama the other day, it was like a Christmas Curse type of thing. It was actually really good, though I think I fell asleep in the middle for some of it. And so cheesy—”
“Hao,” Taerae interrupts. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You guys need to kiss.” Hao nods. He points at the ceiling above their heads.
Taerae frowns, and looking up, spots it. Mistletoe.
You have got to be kidding me, Taerae thinks.
His eyes meet Matthew’s, whose gaze had also just been trained on the mistletoe.
For a spark, a moment, Matthew looks earnest and confused and sweet. But the reality is, he is anything but. His expression morphs into his usual, cocksure smile.
“I’m not kissing you,” Taerae says, before anyone else can get a word in.
“But— Taerae, the curse!” Hao laments.
Taerae blinks. “The what.”
“The curse, like in the drama. The main couple, they were under some mistletoe just like you. And they refused to kiss each other, so they were struck with a curse.” Hao rushes it all out in one long breath. “You have to kiss. It was like, seven years of bad luck or something. It was a bunch of small things at first, just minor inconveniences. Like always ending up next to the man with the stinky armpits on the bus, or always being a few won off any time they wanted to buy groceries. Then it kept escalating and escalating and by the end of the drama one of them was bald. And Taerae, you can’t go bald! You’re too sexy!”
Taerae rubs his temples. “You’re saying too many things.”
“So Hao, you’re saying the solution is to kiss,” Matthew pipes up. “Either way, it’s tradition!”
“No thank you.”
“Taerae,” Hao says.
Taerae throws his arms up. “What? I don’t believe in some stupid curse.” He turns to Matthew, gaze hardened. “Or some stupid Christmas tradition.”
Matthew crosses his arms. “What if I don’t wanna be cursed?”
“Find someone else then.”
“That’s not how it works!”
Taerae rises to his feet. “I’m not kissing you.”
Matthew blinks. Slowly, he uncrosses his arms and nods. “Relax,” he says with a wavering laugh. “No one is actually forcing you.”
The air is awkward between the three of them, like it would be if a grown man threw what is essentially a tantrum.
“Hey, we were just joking, man,” Matthew adds.
“I wasn’t,” Hao adds under his breath.
“Hint taken, though.” Matthew stands. Averting his eyes, he says, “Don’t joke around about kissing Kim Taerae. It’s apparently a sore topic.”
Taerae starts to protest — his instinctual reaction to anything that comes out of Matthew’s mouth. He’s stopped short when his foot catches on the corner of the rug. He lurches right into Matthew’s arms, knocking Hao’s bowl in the process. It flies into the air, tumbling in a comically slow motion, and the contents are emptied on top of both their heads.
Apparently, Hao was holding a bowl of cheesy tteokbokki.
The clatter of the bowl against the floorboards pulls everyone’s attention. Mario Kart now forgotten, six additional sets of eyes (including one in a pair of gaudy Christmas sunglasses) turn to them.
It’s no secret in their group that any time Matthew and Taerae are in each other’s vicinity, there is guaranteed entertainment.
“Ugh,” Matthew groans.
His grip, from where he’s been steadying Taerae, tightens.
Taerae shrugs out of his hold. He wipes a hand across his forehead and shakes it off. Some of the tteokbokki sauce splatters on the floorboard with a wet thwack.
“It’s begun.” Hao covers his mouth with a hand. “The curse…”
Taerae rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just tripped on your rug.” He shudders. “Can I use your shower? And borrow some clothes?”
Hao still looks concerned. Their audience watches on, silent and eager. Too bad for them, Taerae resolves to stay away from Matthew for the rest of the night. Something tells him the sentiment is shared.
“Me too,” Matthew says, taking a full step back. “Uh, Hanbin…?”
Matthew is ferreted away by Hanbin, while Hao pulls Taerae into the spare bedroom the couple save for guests.
“Don’t you start,” Taerae says, before his best friend can say anything. Sure enough, he hears Hao’s mouth snap shut. “It’s not a curse. Something stupid is bound to happen when Matthew is nearby.”
Hao silently rummages through the closet and picks out a pair of jeans, a grey sweater and a fluffy towel.
“Would it have been so bad, though? To kiss Matthew?”
A picture forms in his head. A glimmer of emotion in Matthew’s eyes before he turned his face away. Had he imagined it? The disappointment?
Taerae doesn’t answer him.
8 March 2025
Taerae does not believe in curses.
The fact that his train line has experienced spontaneous disruptions at least twice a week for three consecutive months does not mean he’s cursed. So what if he’s sometimes late to his shift at the bookstore? He’s got a plausible excuse. It’s simply a faulty train line under construction.
The fact that his landlord has been ghosting him about repairs that, in his opinion, needed to be done urgently, does not mean he’s cursed. So what if he has to wrestle his bedroom door every morning to get it to open? His apartment was a stinkhole and he has always known his landlord was flakey.
The fact that both of those things are now preventing him from going to brunch with his best friend doesn’t… mean… anything…
“We’re almost there,” Hao says over the phone. He sounds frantic. “Stupid trains.”
“Great, well, I’m not going anywhere,” Taerae laughs. “Wait, who is ‘we’?”
“Me and Hanbin.” Hao pauses. In a hushed voice, he adds, “And, uh, Matthew. He was with Hanbin when I called him.”
Taerae breathes out roughly.
“Ugh. Sure. Whatever. I’ll try my landlord again, and the building manager, and my neighbours too, I guess,” Taerae says. Anything to keep Matthew from entering his apartment. He sighs. “If you don’t hear from me, I’m probably still stuck in my room.”
Taerae hangs up and dials everyone he can think of. To no avail.
Not a single locksmith seems to be working today either. Not any that do housecalls anyway. Just his luck.
He locks his phone and tosses it on his bed, where it clanks against the metal doorknob. The metal doorknob Taerae had pulled clean from his door. If anything is cursed, it is this apartment.
Lucky Taerae gave Hao a spare key.
After another fifteen rounds of pacing in his bedroom, and mentally debating the logistics of tying together all his bedsheets, pillowcases and blankets to use to climb down the window, Taerae starts to get antsy. He isn’t claustrophobic by any means — but then again, he’s never been locked inside a room for hours.
He sits at the foot of his bed and hugs his knees to his chest.
The front door opens and clicks shut. Voices spill inside.
“Taerae, you okay in there?”
“Peachy.”
The doorknob on the other side (still intact) rattles and then stops.
“Oops.”
A streak of light spills inside the room from where the doorknob (no longer intact) used to be. Taerae groans.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of there!” Hao calls out.
“Maybe we could unscrew the hinges,” comes Hanbin’s voice. “Taerae, where do you keep your toolbox?”
“Taerae with a toolbox — now that’s a sight I want to see,” says his enemy and the worst person in the world.
“Shut it,” Taerae hisses. “I, uh, Hanbin, I think I lent it to my neighbours.”
“Have you tried asking your neighbours for it back?”
“No, Matthew, I didn’t think to call Mr Han for my stuff back. In fact, I didn’t think to call any of my neighbours at all.”
“Well, maybe—”
“Matt, stop aggravating him,” Hanbin says. “At least wait until we get him out.”
Taerae doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation. It’s muffled. Or maybe his brain is getting fuzzy.
Could he be cursed?
After all, it hasn’t just been the trains and his bedroom door. Other little disruptive things have been ruining his days. The barista constantly forgetting his almond milk. The air conditioner at the bookstore breaking just as the weather started to turn. The trickling sound from his bathroom keeping him up at night. A stubborn lick of hair sticking up the wrong way no matter how much he tries to tame it.
At this point, he’s had fewer days without something going wrong.
The next thing he registers is Matthew’s obnoxious voice saying, “Alright, alright, stand back ya’ll. All that extra muscle you ordered has just arrived. Premium Canadian beef, baby.”
“What does that even mean?” Taerae mutters.
A thud, a crack, and a resounding crash. Then, a heaping pile of wood and a heaping pile of Matthew on his floor.
“You broke down my door?” Taerae yelps, snapping to his feet.
Matthew groans. “Not what I wanted to do,” he says, weakly.
Hanbin clambers in through the hole Matthew created and helps him up. He dusts him off. Matthew coughs.
Taerae stares in disbelief. The shattered pieces of his door on the ground. Hanbin and Matthew and now Hao crowding into his tiny room. The massive hole right down the middle of the door.
He wants to be angry. He should be angry. He would need to pay out of pocket to replace the entire door now. What even made Matthew think it would be a good idea to use brute force against the door in the first place?
And yet, catching a glimpse of his living room — his rundown, messy little living room — for the first time in hours, he can only feel relieved.
Taerae takes a deep breath. “Thank you,” he says, voice meek.
Matthew’s eyes widen. “Did you just—”
“Yeah,” Taerae says, straightening his back. “And that’s the only time I’ll say it, so. Bask in it, or whatever.”
“Aha! Today’s win. And it’s a big one. See, Hao, I’m not cursed,” Matthew winces and glares at his thumb. “Shit. I think I got a splinter. Ah, fuck, I hate these.”
“The curse…” Hao whispers ominously. Hanbin nods in tandem.
Taerae rolls his eyes. “There’s another term for that, you know.”
“A jinx?” Hao says.
“Clumsy Matthew?” Hanbin offers.
Matthew gives him an unimpressed look.
“Confirmation bias. There is no curse.” Taerae knocks his shin against his bedpost and squirms in pain. “Don’t. Say. Anything.”
Hao closes his mouth.
Taerae rubs the sore spot before disappearing into the bathroom to find his tweezers for Matthew.
23 May 2025
For all the pitiful looks his best friend has thrown at Taerae all year, Hao decides it’s a grand idea to take him clubbing.
“You need to forget the curse and live your life, diva!” Hao had said.
“I literally never think about the curse,” Taerae had responded, and immediately wondered why he had referred to Hao’s curse in the definitive.
Nevertheless, he gets ready with Hao in his and Hanbin’s apartment. Mostly because, amongst other things (like the trickle turning to a full blown leak in his bathroom pipes, and spiders crawling out of his pull-out couch), the electricity in his apartment is also faulty. He isn’t about to do his eyeliner in the dark.
No matter. There’s only one month remaining until his lease ends and he can move into Hao and Hanbin’s building. Which worked out perfectly for him, so suck it, curse.
Not that… there even is one…
After poking him in the eye one too many times, Hao finally adds the finishing touches to Taerae’s makeup.
“How do I look?” Taerae flutters his lashes.
“Like you’re about to break hearts.”
“Good.”
Hao and Hanbin take him to a new upscale club in Apgujeong. It’s the kind of place where the bouncers look like rogue spies and two cocktails are enough to leave a dent in his paycheck. They meet up with Jiwoong there, who had arrived early to save them a table. Apparently, he came with M*tth*w, since they worked together. He was around somewhere as well. Not that Taerae cares.
Taerae doesn’t question why Matthew is even here in the first place. They have the same friends, so he has every right to be invited to a night out too. Seeing as it’s less than a week out to his birthday, he will try to be cordial.
When things were especially bad between Matthew and Taerae — usually in the aftermath of Taerae hitting one of his sore spots — their friends would act like they’re the children of divorce. But things have been a lot better lately. Matthew’s jabs have never been venomous, or personal, and Taerae learns to keep his mouth shut and temper in check. They can be trusted to be in the same room together.
Taerae looks around the floor briefly. Casually. The place is packed, which isn’t unusual for a new club on a Friday night. They’re huddled on the rooftop floor where a DJ plays some 90s RnB. There is a long line snaking up to the bar. Despite the time of the year, there’s a chill in the air tonight.
“Looking for someone?”
Hao returns with Hanbin and their drinks.
“No?” Taerae says, narrowing his eyes. “I can’t suss the place out?”
Hao shrugs and sips his drink. Taerae ignores the knowing glint in his best friend’s eye.
Hao doesn’t get drunk so easily, but Hanbin does. It takes one glass of pinot grigio to get him up on his feet and drag his boyfriend to the dance floor. Taerae watches them fondly.
A cold pint of beer is placed in front of him and Jiwoong slides into the spot Hao had been occupying before.
“How’s the curse?”
“Oh my god.”
“I’m just joking,” Jiwoong says, taking a sip from his whiskey sour. “I’m not playing into it. But I do find it interesting.”
Taerae sighs. His phone vibrates with a notification. Just a lousy marketing email. He frowns when he notices the battery percentage has dropped to 14 percent. How did that even happen? He had barely used his phone all night.
"What's interesting?" He asks, absentmindedly.
“How much bad luck you and Matthew have had this year.”
Taerae doesn’t want to ask. He shouldn’t care. He doesn’t care.
He looks up from his phone and sees Jiwoong’s knowing smile. Whatever.
“It’s just one of those years, I guess.”
Luckily, or unluckily, Jiwoong is one of his more perceptive friends. Coy as he is about it. Jiwoong places his chin in his hands.
“Matthew complains about the elevator in our office only ever jamming whenever he’s on it,” Jiwoong says with a thoughtful, faraway look in his eye. “He says his cat keeps throwing up on the carpet when he least expects it. He’s had to replace his earphones once a month because they ‘keep tangling themselves to death’. His words, not mine.” Jiwoong turns to Taerae again, eyes like laser beams. “And he’s struck out on every single date he’s been on this year.”
“First of all, I don’t know why you think I would care about all that.” Taerae clears his throat. “Second, he also struck out with me, and that was long before the curse.”
Jiwoong frowns. “Yeah, but that’s because—”
For the second time tonight, a drink is placed in front of Taerae.
“From the man by the bar,” says the waitress with a smile before flitting away.
Taerae’s eyebrows shoot up. He has to strain his neck to look at where the waitress had pointed to. There, arms up against the bar table, is the man in question. He’s around Taerae’s age, from what he can see, with dark hair and a lopsided smile.
The man holds his glass up to Taerae.
“Oh.” Taerae turns back to Jiwoong. “Should I…?”
Jiwoong shrugs. “Wouldn’t hurt to go talk to him. He seems… nice enough. I’ll go dance with the husbands.”
Taerae nods. He shimmies out of the lounge chair and, grabbing his drink, heads over to the bar. The man’s posture immediately opens up, becomes inviting. When Taerae gets closer, he notices that the man has a friend with him. A shorter, blonde man.
“Hey.” Taerae has to raise his voice over the music. He points at his drink. “Thank you, for this. Awfully kind of you get a complete stranger a drink from this place.”
The man shrugs. His smile is cute. “It’s nothing to a guy like me.”
Taerae purses his lips. “A guy like you?”
“You use TikTok much?”
“I can’t… say that I do…” Taerae is confused by the turn in the conversation. The man’s friend averts his eyes, rocking his head to the music as if he couldn’t hear them.
“Really? Lame.” The man pulls out his phone, types something on his screen and thrusts it at Taerae. “I’m somewhat of a celebrity around here.”
Taerae blinks. His friend gives him an apologetic smile. The phone is open to a TikTok account, which Taerae assumes is the man’s. It’s… truly something. User GLAMGLAM_69 exclusively posts stitched content with colourful, in-your-face text. ‘GOING LIVE EVERY NIGHT 10 PM KST’ is all his bio says.
Taerae is so turned off he feels like shrivelling into himself.
“Ah.”
“It’s my fashion brand, you see, but I also make music. I’m deep underground. None of that K-Pop idol crap. You should check me out. ”
There is no way in hell Taerae is ever doing that.
He then reaches into his shirt and Taerae’s jaw drops. The man pulls out a giant gold chain with giant gold lettering that reads ‘GLAMGLAM_69’.
This man is not real.
“Give me a follow,” he says with a wink.
Taerae isn’t able to control the disgusted, downward turn of his lips. He starts backing up, and nearly jumps when an arm snakes its way to his back.
“Hey,” Matthew says softly. He turns to GLAMGLAM_69. “Nice to see you, man. We’ll give you a follow! Bye!”
Matthew shepherds Taerae away from the bar. He discards GLAMGLAM_69’s drink on a passing table.
“Thanks,” Taerae murmurs. He’s not sure what just happened, but he’d much rather be swept away by Matthew than endure more of that.
“Don’t mention it,” Matthew says. They stop by one of the high tables. “You looked really uncomfortable.”
Taerae purses his lips. “It’s just hard for me to control my expression.”
He gets a good look at Matthew. He has on a dark turtleneck and a black jacket sitting snugly atop it. His hair is swept to the side, and for some reason, is dripping wet.
He looks… good.
“What?”
“Why are you wet?” Taerae asks. Tentatively, he touches the top of Matthew’s shoulder and confirms his suspicions. It’s damp too.
“Oh!” Matthew laughs. “A few different girls have periodically come over and thrown their drinks in my face. I think they mistook me for someone else, but hey, it felt like ticking off a bucket list item.”
“You had ‘someone throws a drink in your face’ on your bucket list?”
“Mhm. It was so dramatic, like a movie.” He sighs, then scrunches his nose. “It got tiring after the third time, though.”
“You’re so weird.”
“Is that anyway to talk about the guy who saved you?”
“From a TikToker,” Taerae says, laughing. “I think I could have handled it, Matthew. He might have ended up with a drink in his face.”
“I would have paid real money to see that,” Matthew murmurs.
Taerae blinks. Why was his tone so flirty? And not his usual flirting, where he’s only trying to get a reaction out of Taerae. They’ve moved close too, close enough to share the same breath. It’s the only way they could hear each other over the music, he knows, yet it still makes something in his chest flutter.
This may have also been their first conversation where Taerae, at any point, didn’t feel the urge to rip his hair out.
“Do you want to—” Matthew starts.
“Hey! Kim Seokmin!”
A strong grip falls on his shoulders and he is swivelled around. Matthew too, appears to have been manhandled. They come face to face with a fuming woman, perhaps a few years their senior, with a glare sharper than daggers.
“You scheming, two-timing asshole,” she seethes.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Matthew says, “You have the wrong—”
The woman hurls her drink at Matthew’s face. Taerae recoils, being in the splash zone.
Turning to Taerae, she says, “Stay away from him, he’s going to break your heart to pieces and then flaunt someone else in his arms. You’re going to hell, Kim Seokmin.” The woman harrumphs, turns on her heel and saunters off.
“That’s definitely getting old.” Matthew shakes his head and a few droplets splatter over Taerae.
He giggles. “God. Stop acting like a damn dog and go clean yourself up.”
“Not even a little sympathy for me?”
“Apparently you’re in the market of breaking hearts, Kim Seokmin, so no.”
Matthew rolls his eyes. His smile hasn’t faded, despite getting drenched again. He salutes Taerae, then melts between a few bodies.
Taerae watches him disappear into the crowd.
5 July 2025
In the middle of summer, the cooling system in Taerae’s new apartment goes under maintenance, which is just his luck. Not only has his work never managed to repair the air conditioning — citing cost cuts one day and unavailable tradesmen the next — but now he has to return to a hot and muggy apartment too.
Hao and Hanbin, bless their souls, have offered to let Taerae crash over at theirs whenever he needs to. Given that he’s only two floors below them, he’s taken them up on their offer a few times on especially humid days, but is reluctant to impose any further. It goes against everything Taerae believes in to rely so much on other people. Or, god forbid, to burden them in any way.
Also — Taerae doesn’t need to hear about him being cursed every other day.
He spends most of his free evenings on the rooftop of his building. It’s high up enough that there’s fewer bugs than there would be if he went for a walk around the neighbourhood. Chillier, too.
Not many people come up to the rooftop, Taerae has found. Everyone has their own balconies, if they want fresh air, or a working cooling system if it gets too hot. It’s also meddlesome to have to wedge something between the door so it doesn’t close and lock one out.
Taerae stretches out over the worn plastic recliner and sips his beer. It’s not so peaceful that he can doze off. The building isn’t so tall that it escapes the sound of traffic and the bustling city below. Still, that is its own quiet, Taerae supposes. His phone died about an hour ago, so there’s really nothing to bother or distract him.
The door to the rooftop slams open and Taerae’s peace is disrupted. So much for that.
“Oh, shit, sorry.”
“Matthew?”
“Taerae?”
Two things happen at once: Taerae watches Matthew’s face twist into a confused, puppy-like expression, head tilt and all. Behind him, the door to the rooftop shuts.
Oh dear.
Taerae is surprised by how calm he feels when he says, “I guess we’re locked up here, then.”
“Huh?”
He points at the shoe he had used as a door stopper, which had been kicked aside in Matthew’s haste. Matthew tries, rather fruitlessly, to pull down the door handle. Realisation dawns on his face when it doesn’t give way.
“Shit — uh, I didn’t mean to do that.”
Taerae waves a hand. “It’s fine. I was planning on being up here for the rest of the evening anyway. Do you have your phone with you, though? Mine’s dead.”
Matthew pats the pockets of his shorts. His face says it all. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair.
“How long do you think before anyone realises we’re stuck up here.”
Taerae shrugs. Matthew sags against the door.
“What are you even doing here, anyway?” Taerae asks, sitting up.
Matthew walks over to sit at his feet. It’s quiet for a moment between them, Matthew watching the sunlight glint off the windows of taller buildings and Taerae watching Matthew.
“I was over at Hanbin and Hao’s for lunch and I just… got a text…” He trails off and shakes his head.
That could mean anything. Taerae wonders if he should pry. He wants to, but they’re not close like that. They have never been close like that.
If there’s one thing he hates, though, it’s when people are being vague. If you’re going to spill some tea, at least commit!
Possibly sensing Taerae’s impatient energy, Matthew steels himself and continues. “I got a text from my— my boyfriend? The guy I was seeing? My ex? I don’t know what he is. It doesn’t matter. He texted me to break it off.” Matthew laughs hollowly. “He said he wanted us to be exclusive just last week, which is funny ‘cause I guess he also wanted to be exclusive with two other people.” Matthew laughs, though there’s no real humour in it. “Thought I’d come up here to get some air.”
Taerae exhales. Matthew is seeing someone? That’s news to him. Or — he was seeing someone, until what, today? A heaviness pools in him, sedimenting at the pit of his stomach.
“I’m sorry. That’s rough.”
He isn’t sure what else he can say. You’re a great guy, Matthew would sound genuine from literally anyone else but him, even if he means it.
Unlike him, Matthew doesn’t seem to think much of it. “Thanks. I’m fine though, I promise. He was whatever I guess. When he said he wanted us to be exclusive, I told him I’d think about it. I guess a part of me always knew he wasn’t shit.”
“Ha… Men, right?”
Taerae fights the urge to slap a hand across his forehead. Since when is he this awkward?
Matthew smiles, uncaring or unaware of his inner turmoil. “Honestly, it might just be me. I haven’t had much luck with dating in a few years. I think I’m doubly cursed. I mean—” He gestures between the two of them. “Take us, for example.”
“We don’t count,” Taerae says. He knows he’s backtracking on the conversation he had with Jiwoong months before, but this hardly feels like the time to tack on to Matthew’s problems.
“Maybe.” Matthew smiles. “I keep thinking, though, what if I’d just rescheduled that night, instead of pushing through.”
Taerae tilts his head. “Would it have made a difference?”
Though, even as he says it, he knows the answer. At least for him, it would have made all the difference. He wouldn’t have been as stressed, as easily-irritated, as impatient as he was that night. He would have given Matthew a chance, laughed along at the other’s mishaps, argued with him less.
Perhaps he should have been the one to reschedule.
“Yeah, it would have.” The sincerity in Matthew’s voice, the conviction, stills him. Matthew bites down on his lip. “I — actually, Taerae I don’t think we ever had this conversation. I wasn’t myself that night. I had just come out of a long-term relationship and Hanbin had been trying to get me to go out for a while. You know, to start moving on, and all that.”
“I was going to be your rebound?”
Matthew flinches. “When you put it that way, it sounds way worse.”
Taerae laughs. Again, he is surprised at how well he’s taking everything. The Taerae of last year would be dragging Matthew around by his ear.
“Actually, I should apologise for how I was that night.” He raises a finger when Matthew opens his mouth to protest. “I wasn’t feeling my best either.”
Maybe Matthew is right. Maybe things could have been different for them now if they both hadn’t been so eager for a distraction. It’s hard not to feel disheartened, discouraged even, by the what if’s.
“Oh, well. We can’t change the past. But, Taerae, do you think we could be friends?”
Taerae’s heart lurches.
Matthew flusters. “I mean, we kind of are. But it also just feels like you’re a mutual friend more than my friend, you know?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Taerae nods. “Okay, let’s try it. Friends.”
Matthew’s smile blinds him.
The door handle rattles. Taerae and Matthew veer at the sound just as the door opens.
“Oh, hey!” Hao exclaims, stepping up onto the rooftop. “My two favourite cursed people. And you haven’t killed or injured each other!”
Hanbin stands close behind him, keeping a careful hand over the handle.
“Not cursed,” Taerae says.
“The real curse is the friends we made along the way,” Matthew adds, nodding sagely.
Taerae rolls his eyes, gets up from the recliner chair and stretches. He walks over to the door and picks up his shoe/doorstopper. “I’m heading back to mine now. See ya, friends.”
The image of Matthew’s sweet little smile stays with him all night.
19 September 2025
Apparently, being Seok Matthew’s friend involves, amongst other things, getting roped into being a plus one at a wedding.
No one — not one single person in their shared friendship group — had warned Taerae about the power of Grown Man Aegyo. In fact, a month prior, Hao had looked at Taerae with a strange mix of pity and pride when he’d said what had conspired between him and Matthew. He had only offered a “Oops. I should have warned you. When he’s set his sights on you, it’s over. Have fun at the wedding!”
Taerae has also been trying this new thing where he doesn’t disagree with anything Matthew says on autopilot. His new principles, coupled with a little pouty pout and sad puppy eyes, is apparently all it takes for Taerae to go to a stranger’s wedding.
Perhaps Matthew had just caught him at a very Matthew-pleasing time in his life.
At least it’s not a wedding in the family. That would have been awkward — and much too intimate for even two long-time friends, let alone them, and whatever they have going on. It’s not a coworker’s wedding either, thankfully, otherwise Jiwoong may have been in attendance to playfully mock and jab at them all night, in addition to the teasing he already does. That would be too embarrassing.
It’s the wedding of someone Matthew went to high school with back in Canada. He was also Korean, and had moved to Seoul a few years after Matthew. They hadn’t kept in touch, until they ran into each other at the gym. In one afternoon, Matthew had rekindled a friendship and walked away with a wedding invitation. Taerae isn’t even surprised.
Taerae is even less surprised by how good Matthew looks in formal attire.
The universe is testing him, teasing out how much he can handle while trying to be subtle and nonchalant and chill. Taerae has lost count of the amount of times he has had to avert his eyes since the moment Matthew arrived at his apartment to pick him up, dressed in a fitted black suit and glasses. Glasses.
Sitting beside him at the reception served as its own challenge. Matthew keeps leaning over to whisper commentary to him. About the couple, the speeches, the wine, the appetizers. He dispenses anything and everything he can think of in murmurs against his ear. Even when the music is loud enough he doesn’t need to get all up in his space.
Is this what being Matthew’s friend is like? Psychological torture?
“What did you get?”
Speak of the devil and he will keep whispering in your ear.
Taerae pokes at the dish he had been served. A small slab of meat and some mash. “Lamb, I think. You?”
“Chicken,” Matthew says. Matthew loves chicken, he’s learned, so he’s confused about the sad pout. “It sucks, though. Tastes like cardboard and there’s so much cheese. Why does it need cheese?”
“Fancy wedding but shitty food? Sounds like you’re cursed, Seok Matthew,” Taerae says. He cuts up a piece of the lamb and offers it on a fork to the other. “Here. We can share mine.”
“That looks like it’s hardly enough for one person,” Matthew says, but wraps his lips around the fork anyway. “Mmh. A bit better than mine.”
It would be easier, more logical, if Taerae just cut up a share for Matthew and served it for him on a separate plate. But where’s the fun in that? Taerae is also nothing if not gay, and now that they’re friends, why should he pass up the opportunity to feed Matthew. It’s what, uh, friends do.
Taerae might as well be hypnotised, the way he stares at Matthew’s mouth as he chews. Lips glistening. Tongue peeking out.
“Do you want to dance?”
Taerae stills. He sets the fork back down on his empty plate.
“They’re playing really slow music though,” Taerae says.
Matthew raises his brows. “Yes? I was asking to slow dance with you. Come on.”
“I just—” Taerae gestures helplessly with his hands. “I don’t think I’m a good dancer. I’ll just embarrass you.”
“No way, come on. I’ll lead.”
He’s pulled to his feet and dragged to the dance floor before he can protest further. There’s a few other couples milling about the dance floor, including the bride and groom, swaying along to the music. It’s not so empty that Matthew and Taerae are noticeable, but it’s not so crowded that Taerae doesn’t feel self-conscious.
Matthew guides his hand to his shoulder, and grasps on to the right. His other hand winds around him and rests on the small of his back. He steps into his personal space.
And so they dance. Or sway, seems more appropriate. Taerae’s grip tightens on Matthew’s shoulder, as they move to a slow, romantic song.
“The glasses— are they new?”
Matthew chuckles.
Wow. That is an attractive sound.
“No, but I normally wear contacts on days I need to. Gia somehow got into my cabinet and destroyed all my contacts.”
Thank you, Gia.
“I still haven’t met him,” Taerae muses.
“Come over sometime,” Matthew says simply.
Taerae hums. They fall quiet, rocking back and forth to the music. Perhaps it’s the dim lighting, or the champagne he’d been sipping on all night, or the comfort of having another body pressed against him. Taerae rests his chin on his hand, where it sits on Matthew’s shoulder. He listens to his steady inhale-exhale, breathes in the faint citrusy scent of his cologne.
“Thank you for coming with me,” Matthew says. His breath fans across Taerae’s cheek and neck.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Taerae says. He raises his head. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a wedding.”
“I know we had a rocky start, but I really like spending time with you.”
Taerae’s breath catches in his throat. “Me too.”
“I always have.” His voice has dropped, and so have his eyes. They’re trained now on Taerae’s lips. “Even when you hated me.”
Matthew is about to kiss him, he thinks. Hopes. He really wouldn’t mind if he did.
“I never hated you, Matthew.”
The song slows to a stop and the spell breaks. Matthew’s eyes meet his and he shares a shy smile. He doesn’t move away though, and that comforts him. The warm hand presses on his back and keeps him close.
“I’m still kinda hungry,” Matthew says quietly.
Taerae laughs. “We could always head out early and get some junk food.”
“I really like the way you think, Taerae.”
21 December 2025
According to Hao’s flawless logic, the fact that everyone is now friends with each other means they can all go on a winter trip to Japan together. Obviously.
It came as a knock on his door at four thirty in the afternoon on a random Sunday in late November. Taerae had been bundled up on his couch, wrapped up in blankets and watching Singles Inferno. He’d also been texting Matthew, but that’s not that important of a detail.
When he’d opened the door, Hao tumbled in with a brochure and an idea. Or an impulse, rather.
“Pack your bags, diva!” Is what his best friend started with.
“Okay,” Taerae had replied, without even knowing the context, because years of being Hao’s friend taught him how futile it is to put up a fight with him.
Which is how, about a month later, Taerae ends up in Incheon International Airport. Four days out to Christmas. Listening to the announcement on the speakers saying his flight has been delayed due to the weather. A snow storm. Lovely.
“It could be worse,” Matthew says, chewing on some gum.
Taerae squishes down the impulse to feel annoyed. Matthew and his damn optimism. He has no time for this today.
“What could possibly be worse than an eight-hour delay?”
“A nine-hour delay?”
Taerae rolls his eyes. He leaves Matthew by the windows and goes back to their hand luggage. He slumps down on one of the chairs.
The two of them are the last of their group to leave Seoul. Jiwoong had arrived in Japan a week earlier to meet up with some friends and distant relatives. Hanbin and Hao had left three days ago, along with Yujin and Gunwook, to meet him there. Gyuvin and Ricky left a day after that, leaving Taerae and Matthew to fend for themselves.
Of course, it made sense for them to then book the same flight together, to take the same cab to the airport together. Because they’re friends now. That’s what friends do.
Matthew returns to the seat next to his.
“Hey. Heeeyy.”
He knows better than to face Matthew right now. He can picture those round, sparkly eyes in his head already. Can picture how easily he would fold.
Stay strong, Kim Taerae.
Taerae sighs. “Yes?”
“Why aren’t you looking at me?” Matthew says. He’s speaking in pout now. Oh, it’s so over for him.
“Because.”
“Because?”
“You’re going to psychologically manipulate me into doing something egregious with you.” Taerae crosses his arms and makes a point to turn the opposite way.
Matthew laughs. “I didn’t know I had that kind of power over you. Hey, Taerae. Hey. Hey. Come on. Please, my dearest Taerae. Please, my only same-aged friend.”
“Wow.” Taerae sighs and faces Matthew. He bites back a smile, seeing the other’s pathetic pout. “What is it, Matthew?”
“We have about eight hours to kill. Do you wanna go for a walk?”
He doesn’t wait for Taerae’s answer, circling his fingers around his wrist and dragging him up to his feet. He secures their phone chargers, shoulders his backpack, and pulls Taerae along with his rolly hand luggage.
“Matthew, it’s way past midnight. None of the shops are open and we can’t just walk around for eight hours.”
“Not with that attitude we can’t!” Matthew pokes his tongue out. “We can go see all the Christmas lights.”
Just as easily as he’d roped him into this walk, Matthew entwines their fingers together and pulls him closer. It shouldn’t mean anything, Matthew likes holding anyone’s hand, and Taerae has seen how often he’s wrapped his arms around Gyuvin or Jiwoong, how he holds Hao so gently. It does make him feel like they’ve made it — that they’re close enough for such a simple, inconsequential touch. But isn’t that also the problem?
Matthew finds a kiosk where they can store their luggage and coats for the next few hours. He unwraps his thick scarf from around his neck and puts it away as well, leaving him in just a black turtleneck. Taerae wears an oversized cardigan he had “borrowed” from Gunwook, intending to return it at the end of their trip (perhaps, if Gunwook notices and asks for it).
Taerae keeps an eye on the time while Matthew leads them around Terminal 1. And by leading them around, Matthew seems to be determined to get them lost.
“That’s how you explore, Taerae!”
No matter. Taerae has always been good at navigating so he’ll just make sure they can wander back to their gate on time.
As he had predicted, most of the shops and restaurants are closed for the night, spare a few. Taerae makes a mental note of the ones that are open and makes a reminder on his phone to check if they can access one of the lounges.
Matthew on the other hand is in his own little world. He doesn’t look like he’s bothered at all by anything. In fact, if they weren’t enjoined by their hands, he’s sure Matthew would be skipping along the terminal.
“Whoa…”
Taerae slams into Matthew’s back.
They’ve come to a stop in front of a giant, imposing Christmas tree. Taerae has to crane his neck to see the top, its star topper nearly touching the ceiling. It’s adorned with large baubles and glinting ornaments. Despite the hour, the lights have been kept on and a handful of people stop to take photos in front of the tree.
“Take my picture?”
Matthew hands him his phone.
Taerae gulps, angling the phone to try and get the optimal shot of Matthew and the tree. When he comes around to check, he makes a noise of distaste.
“Taerae, you suck at this.”
“Excuse me?”
“For someone who is so good at thirst trapping you would think you can take a decent picture of another person.”
“Excuse me?”
Matthew sticks his tongue out again. “What even is this angle? You can hardly even see my face.”
“It’s artsy. You know what, how about you take my picture then, if you think you can do better.”
Taerae huffs and takes his place in front of the tree. Only when he sees Matthew’s sly smile does he realise he’s been successfully baited into having his photo taken. He switches up his poses while Matthew snaps a shot in every possible angle imaginable.
The results are…
“These are horrible.”
“Now I know you’re lying,” Matthew says. “These are so cute. Make this your Kakao profile.”
“No.”
Matthew tsks.
“Then make it our selfie.”
“We didn’t take a selfie.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he notices the glint in Matthew’s eye.
Matthew tugs him close by his cardigan. An arm encircles his back and settles on his hip. Even through the layers of clothes between them, his touch tingles. Taerae brings his arm up to Matthew’s shoulder, waits patiently as he snaps a few photos, and hopes his smile isn’t too awkward. Or telling.
“There. New profile photo for you.”
Taerae hums. It’s a cute photo, but it’s also a reminder of their closeness. The ghost of Matthew’s fingers pressed to his hip makes him flush.
“Fine. It’s nice,” Taerae says, which seems to be a satisfactory answer for the other.
Matthew tugs him along by the hand to view all the other Christmas decorations. None of the attractions are open at this hour, but that doesn’t deter Matthew whatsoever. It reminds Taerae so much of their first date, wandering around finding a place to eat, and the realisation almost makes him stop in his tracks. He wonders if Matthew realises it too.
They stop by Santa’s village, take a few snaps of each other seated in the velvety red chair, walk hand in hand over the bridge. Taerae will admit, he’s having a lot of fun. Certainly more fun than he would be having if they’d gone along with his plans to stay put at the gate or find the nearest lounge.
It’s when they’re by one of the decorative sleighs that Taerae notices it. Dangling a mere few inches above him and an oblivious Matthew. Mistletoe.
“Ah.”
“What?” Matthew says. He frowns, and following Taerae’s line of sight, spots it too. “Oh.”
Taerae meets his eyes. For the first time tonight, Matthew looked unsure of himself.
“I—”
Matthew takes a step back. “We don’t have to, you know, do that. We’re already cursed, aren’t we? And it hasn’t been so bad. What’s another seven years, or whatever.”
Taerae’s heart drops. “What?”
“We should head back right? We’ve been wandering around long enough.”
Is that how it is?
Ah.
It cuts. This rejection.
“You don’t want to kiss me?” Taerae asks. His voice is the smallest it’s ever been.
Matthew stills. “Do you want to kiss me?”
Taerae doesn’t answer. He isn’t sure he can, without possibly bursting into tears, and he already feels shameful enough. He isn’t a cryer, usually, but he’s never quite felt like this before.
“Taerae,” Matthew says softly. He steps back into his space, and holds Taerae by the elbows. “The last time we were in this position, the thought of kissing me disgusted you so much.”
Taerae shakes his head. “That wasn’t it. You— I had complicated feelings for you, and I was really stupid, back then. But that was a whole year ago.”
“And now?” Matthew rubs his thumbs along his arms in a soothing way.
“I’m less stupid,” Taerae says, taking a step forward. “And I don’t want to be cursed anymore. And I can’t think of anything I want more than to kiss you.”
Matthew’s face scrunches up into the sweetest smile.
“I thought you didn’t believe in the curse,” Matthew murmurs, close enough to be felt against his lips.
“I don’t,” Taerae says. “Whatever it takes to make you shut up and kiss me, though.”
Matthew hums and brushes his lips against Taerae’s. A soft press, a polite ask. Taerae tilts his head and moves his lips, giving him permission, inviting him in for more. Matthew sighs against his mouth, wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him flush against his body.
Taerae traces his fingers over his jaw, feeling lightning wherever their skin touches. They may have been here like this for hours, wrapped in each other’s arms. Taerae loses all track of time and space, loses himself in Matthew’s lips. It’s all the warmth he’ll ever need.
The tip of Matthew’s nose is cold against his cheek and it makes him giggle.
“You’re awfully happy suddenly,” Matthew says between kisses.
“Don’t be an ass,” Taerae says. He brings their foreheads together. “I thought you were rejecting me.”
Matthew tightens his hold. “No, I don’t think I could ever. I just didn’t know you felt this way.”
“I went to a wedding with you just because you asked,” Taerae says. “I started watching the shows you liked, for you. I stayed behind in Korea just so you wouldn’t have to catch a flight by yourself.”
“Okay, well, I didn’t realise all that,” Matthew says. The prettiest flush of colour blooms on his cheeks. He clears his throat. “What are we going to tell the others? When we get to Tokyo.”
Taerae blanches. “God, Hao is going to be insufferable. Let’s just not think about that for now and enjoy our—” he checks his watch “—nine-something hours of peace together.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Wrapping his arms around Matthew’s shoulders, he murmurs, “Do you think we broke the curse?”
“Well — I feel like the luckiest person alive right now,” Matthew says, pecking him softly on the lips. “So yeah, I think so.”
(When they land in Tokyo and check in at their hotel, Hao pounces on them immediately.
“Aha! It’s a Christmas miracle!” He practically squeals.
“Baby, we all saw this coming,” Hanbin says.)