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The streets had been dried off of rain, and Im Jaebum had been frowning at the puddles for the last few minutes they were walking. It messed up their shoes, he reasoned, and they can't go back inside the meeting looking like a wet dog. And what's more—it would simply show off the evidence that they just fucking ran away from the business meeting.
That's what Jaebum wanted to avoid the most. So, why was he here, in the secluded streets at night, wearing a tux with the Vice President of the company, Park Jinyoung? Or better yet — why was he walking in the secluded streets at night, with his ex-boyfriend, Park Jinyoung, just for the reason that they were both bored at a business meeting?
"With all due respect, can't we just get a ta—"
"No, we can't, hyung," Jinyoung replies hastily. "It's not that far anymore. I promise."
"I think the subway would take us faster. I really don't want to get fired." Jaebum flinches when he sees a stranger stare at them questioningly. "Jinyoung."
"Come on, we were both bored at that meeting," Jinyoung says amusedly. "And don't worry about the people here, hyung."
"You've been here before?"
"A lot of times, actually."
"Is it safe?"
Jinyoung nods. "No one's here, anyway, except for that guy."
"That's not very reassuring."
It was a one-way street, and the end of this road was too far for Jaebum to visibly recognize. He tries adjusting his glasses for a better view, but nothing had changed, as the far end remained pitch black. Ignoring Jinyoung's amused smile, he removes his fingers from his glasses, and awkwardly places it inside his coat pocket.
Oh, right. He doesn't have a coat pocket. Jinyoung laughs quietly.
They pass by a dusty car, and they walk through buildings after buildings that seemed to be already abandoned. A gush of wind, that would blow softly in their hair every once in a while. There were streetlights blinking on and off, on and off, on and off — and one dies — and Jaebum worries they would all be dead soon. He wishes they won't.
Jinyoung secretly snaps his fingers, and the streetlights turn back on.
As a wizard, his natural powers were about light. He grew up studying all about potions, and eventually liking them, and to have access to other forms of magic, he had to use a wand. Naturally, Jinyoung must know what the other forms of magic are before he could make use of them.
So, for example, if he wants a spell related to earth, he must know the available magic related to earth. Jinyoung is not yet finished with potions and basic magic, though.
"So, hyung, how is it working as a receptionist?" The wizard asks to divert Jaebum's attention. "I take it that it's been a difficult, yet boring job?"
"Ah, not really. But after being the security guard, I think it's a nice change."
"We rarely get male receptionists."
Jaebum hums in agreement.
"Male receptionists who like art," Jinyoung adds, and looks at him. "Whenever I pass by you in the mornings, or even during mid-days—" Jaebum admits he feels very awkward at that, he doesn't know whether to include his successful ex-boyfriend in his usual greetings, but he still does, "—you always seem to be working on something. I've seen your photographs. They're really nice."
"Thanks." Jaebum quickly thinks of something to add. "You're not a bad one yourself. I still read your stuff."
The wizard freezes as they walk. "Even under a pseudonym?"
"Even under a — Jinyoung, we literally dated in college. I've seen you write stuff before. Don't act like it's something new."
Jinyoung laughs nervously, suddenly recalling the time wherein he accidentally poured a forgetful potion on himself when he was experimenting back in college. "Oh, right. Anyway, since you like art so much, and we're both bored off our socks, I'd like to show you to a museum."
A museum, just like the old times. They used to bond over art and argue about almost everything. When they broke up, it was a chaotic splash of paint and sketches, and the arguments lacked the humor. And here they are now, walking in a lifeless street in silence.
And wow — silence. Jaebum remembers hardly getting this from Jinyoung. The younger of the two shares too much, even the most private of information, he talks too much, and he remembers saying before, "I wish you won't tell me everything."
He doesn't need to do that now.
"We've been walking for an hour and a half, I'm surprised I'm not sweating. . . for a museum this far?"
"I know you'll like it!" He pulls Jaebum's arm and redirects them to a rusty gate of a poorly painted building. Jaebum imagines being stuck in here — ah, no. He can't. It's way too scary.
When they step inside, there is a narrow hallway. It reminds Jaebum of a prison. White walls, cemented floors, blinking lights, and a really narrow hallway — that when Jinyoung let go of Jaebum's arm to go first, the latter's heart is pounding in fear. It can't fit two people at one time.
There's another rusty gate, and this time, Jaebum can make out a shed of light. Jinyoung opens the gate, and looks back at Jaebum with a small smile. "I swear- you'll like this. You'll like this a lot."
When Jinyoung opens the gate, they were met by a grassy field. He pulls Jaebum again, and they ran.
"Are you really the vice president?!" He was starting to question the wizard's mental age.
"Yes!"
Jinyoung's tie was already flying out of his vest — it was his formal fashion — and his hair was running against the blow of wind. Jaebum follows, screaming, his eyeglasses getting blurry, with his tuxedo almost ruined, and his bowtie suffocating him. His hair was being pushed back by the wind — and he can't catch his breath — oh, fuck! Is that a puddle? His shoes and his pants are wet!
Then, Jaebum sees it. Amidst the dark, amidst the trees, there stands a house, with a coat rack outside of it. It wasn't anything pretty, but there were flowers and plants everywhere. Jinyoung must've taken care of them.
And they slowly stop. Jinyoung laughs, his hair messy as ever, but it's nothing Jaebum hasn't seen before. He points at the latter's coat and motions for him to take it off. Jaebum raises an eyebrow in question, though he badly wanted to allow himself be more cold.
Wish granted, Jinyoung thought, reading the look from his face. He pulls the tuxedo coat away from him and he lets it hang on a coat rack outside. "Why is there a coat rack outside?"
"Because there just is, come here. You can place your muddy shoes by the box inside." because Jinyoung can magically clean them again. He fiddles with the lock, and sooner, the both of them step inside, with Jaebum in the lead, following the other's instructions about the shoes. Jinyoung snaps and the candles and lights are on — and with the wand hidden in his vest, he transports the slippers, places the wand back, and hands the slippers over — the elder can only gawk in awe. About the house, not the slippers!
The house had shelves of books, from comics to thick ones, and on the top of the shelves, there were glass bottles that were filled with different colors. Jaebum walks further and sees the rest of the house — he sees photographs, paintings, drawings, writings, and a couch. And from where he stands, he could see a sliver of the kitchen from a room away. There is the usual kitchen set-up, and next to the sink is some plant and a timer.
"What's with all these bottles?"
"Paint," Jinyoung answers lamely, then he kicks his broom. Thump! And it hides away in one of his small spaces in between furniture. Hoo, fuck.
"Since when were you interested in photography, though? The last time I checked, I'm the photography guy.. and you're the, well, the model. Do you still have those pictures I had of y—"
"I already burned them," and used them to create a creativity potion, but you don't have to know that.
Jaebum seems offended. "You what?"
"Burned them. I look like a drugged duckling."
The wizard expected the human to be offended more, but he is met by laughter. "I wish you didn't. Think about the film I wasted just for you to burn it."
"It wasn't wasted. I used the film for good, you know."
"For good? Yeah, right."
Their conversation twists into arguments, arguments to a full-on debate, with the words slowly going darkly colorful, and their tone slowly rising. It was just like before. This was how they had fun, and ironically, this was also how they ended. Jinyoung could recall the times when they would playfully debate—he parallels the thought to the present, wherein he is already aggresively drawing something to prove a point, while Jaebum toys around with his paintbrushes and uses it as his microphone.
Jaebum pushes Jinyoung lightly, and they both pause. No one wins, but all Jinyoung could think about is if he could create something — a potion — that would relive this moment again.
"Crap," Jaebum mutters softly, "I lost my voice and energy arguing. I haven't even read your—" he takes a random paper pinned on the wall, "—uh, fable. No. Fables." He flips the pages. "Animals with humans as pets." He looks at the wizard straight in the eye. "What's with this?"
Jinyoung looks like he wants to say something. But he refrains, and smiles. "Read it to find out."
"I just need the gist of the plot."
Jinyoung walks out of the room. "Find the gist yourself." He smiles, as Jaebum sighs in defeat. He wins!
When he is out of Jaebum's sight, he glances back again at the latter and sees him checking out the photos. He takes off his necktie, throws it in the "laundry" — he'd only need a spell, anyway — and switches his socks with slippers. He comes back again, runs a hand through his wet hair, and misses the way Jaebum looks at him in nostalgia.
If Jinyoung didn't miss it, he would have probably granted another wish. He's not a fairy godfather, but he makes all of Jaebum's wishes come true, as long as it's possible.
-
As Jaebum is reading one of Jinyoung's previous writing drafts, he goes to the kitchen to get a drink, which he would disguise as not a potion. With a dim light from the window outside, Jinyoung opens the cupboard and finds his ingredients — wolf hair, vampire nails, strawberries, and even chocolate — he swoops down a clear potion bottle with pink liquid, labeled as "strawberry milk."
Taking a quick glance, Jinyoung pulls out his wand, and mutters an instruction. "Be drinkable, milk."
He looks for a normal looking mug — the green one — and pours the contents of the strawberry milk until the potion bottle is clear. He places it back in the cupboard, and walks inside the living room to see Jaebum still reading. Then he places the green mug on the coffee table.
"Strawberry milk, hyung?"
"I didn't expect you to still remember," Jaebum says, a tone of surprise in his voice. "Thanks."
"Um, yeah, no malice." He wipes his hands on his clothes and sits haphazardly next to him. "So, anyway, what do you think of. . ." he motions to the photos, drafts, and drawings plastered on the wall, "as a photographer and a reader yourself."
Jaebum awkwardly pushes his glasses up.
"Uh.. is my opinion important? I think they're great as they are."
"Ah."
"Yeah."
An awkward pause.
"Seriously? I've been trying out artistic stuff and that's all you're going to say? Come on, give me some constructive criticism."
"What is there to criticize? Nothing is perfect, and yours is not too bad. But the style seems similar to mine."
"You're the only photographer I personally know," Jinyoung says casually, and Jaebum laughs quietly. "You've been judging paintings back at the meeting and you can't even criticize mine?"
Jaebum laughs. "I wasn't judging!"
"Oh, yeah? I saw you narrowing your eyes."
"My eyes are just small."
Jinyoung manages to smile. "Besides that, you seem to have a lot in your mind."
"You're the worst."
"I said criticize my work, not me."
"To be honest, your drafts are full of crap. Your pictures look like they were taken by an amateur. You suck at drawing and you can't even make a shoebill's beak accurate. There's something ff with that one."
"You really think so?"
"Not really." Jaebum coughs in amusement, wiping his eyeglasses with the tip of his sleeves. Jinyoung knows sleeves don't work — so he secretly moves his wand inside his vest and mutters an instruction ("Let Jaebum see clearly with his glasses for fuck's sake." ). "They're interesting. I mean it. You must've taken them in your free time in business trips?"
He doesn't believe it. But he nods at the last question.
"I wish you could see what I see, Jinyoung."
"Then it's interesting. Thanks for thinking so." Fighting was a natural thing in their relationship — it was one of the fun things he missed experiencing. He liked the exchange of thoughts in discussions, the rush in thinking of a comeback, and the humor that was hidden. Almost everyone he encountered was sensitive and too polite, that sometimes Jinyoung had to keep his thoughts to himself. It's not a bad thing, really.
But Jaebum — Jaebum was so much more okay for him. He was happier and he felt like a lot more himself.
Jinyoung leans his head on the couch, and closes his eyes. "Do whatever you like, hyung."
He hears Jaebum sip from his strawberry milk.
They spent the rest of the night talking about Jinyoung's works. And the company, the gap in their job positions, the whole world, everything else is forgotten. It was just them: Jinyoung, Jaebum, and the art that they used to bond over.
Jinyoung never thought they could bond over it again. Jaebum would walk around with the green mug and ask about his works, and the other would be half-lying on the couch, answering them one-by-one with a lazy smile.
"And with that," Jinyoung points out, "I got inspiration from work. It's about hiking a mountain and slipping until you fall into a lake and... whoosh! You drown."
"Is it a metaphor?"
"You catch up so quickly, hyung. It's a metaphor." He finger guns at Jaebum, who flips the next page of one of his drafts. "When our company almost got bankrupt! But now it's fine. It's better. It's economically—"
"—better. You did great with whatever you did."
"Yeah, I tried."
"I can't believe you're so blind to your own good qualities." Jaebum sips on the strawberry milk once more. "You're doing great, actually. I have to admit."
Jinyoung reflects, like what Jaebum implies. He should think before he speak! But he still doesn't see anything. He only sees himself surviving, and it's not enough to be an achievement.
"Wait." He sits up. "What do you mean you 'have to admit'?"
"My goodness. Here we go again."
The wizard laughs. "I only want to know what you meant, hyung."
Jaebum walks around once more, and he stops by the photographs. He stands there for one good minute, and Jinyoung guesses what's on his mind.
"Do you want to see my other photos?"
The other turns around and smiles gratefully. Wish granted.
Jinyoung stands up and offers to wash the green mug for him, too.
-
It is almost one in the morning when Jaebum is sprawled all over the (clean) carpet with Jinyoung's camera. He presses the next button after reviewing the photos. One after another. From tall buildings, to random windows, to blurred faces, to candid shots.
If there's one pattern he noticed, it's that Jinyoung liked taking pictures of people the most. He sees afamiliar face from his college — Jackson Wang — in candid shots. It's such a sight to see, really, to see Jackson being captured candidly in his element. He's smiling in most photos, sometimes in mid-speaking, and there's one in particular when he is comforting a really tall boy.
Jaebum hears the faucet water stop running. And a few clanks from the kitchen. He glances towards it, and sees the little timer and the plant again. Then Jinyoung steps outside.
"That tall kid's name is Yugyeom," he says once he's seated next to him. "He's like Jackson's unofficial baby."
"He's adorable, though. You have time to travel?"
"Not really, that's a business trip. Jackson's our client."
"Oh. Okay."
"Yeah," Jinyoung whispers. They both know what they're thinking about — about how Jinyoung succeeded in his career, while Jaebum had a couple of setbacks.
And the latter wishes not to talk about it. Jinyoung must've realized this, as he presses the next button for the next picture with a smile.
There comes their CEO in a coat, with an umbrella. There's also one with a stranger in a mid-flip. And a woman with her crying child. Or a security guard tiredly opening a door.
They look at the photos in silence, until it finally reveals the last one — Jinyoung's eyes go wide — it's Jaebum, a fellow co-worker, and a client looking intently at a painting from the meeting a few hours ago.
"See, I told you you were judging the painting." And there he goes, ruining the dramatic mood. Jaebum didn't recognize his nervousness.
"I told you, I'm not."
"Even with your glasses, your vision's blurry." Jinyoung takes off the other's glasses. "Look again."
Jaebum sits up. "I see the same thing." He takes his glasses back, and puts the camera safely on the coffee table once he realizes it's the last one. Then, he unconsciously checks his wristwatch. . .
It's 1 in the morning! He should leave.
He looks at Jinyoung, who is ruffling his fluffy-looking hair. He remembers the time when this was the sight he saw often. He remembers meeting a young Jinyoung in high school and hanging out with Jinyoung in college. He remembers Jinyoung's interest in Chemistry. He remembers messing up Jinyoung's hair. He remembers their arm wrestles, which he used to won, but after the younger became stronger, he loses. He remembers their arguments, that no one seemed to win. He remembers their museum dates in their free time. He remembers reading Jinyoung's weird stories. How Jinyoung knew him the best. How Jinyoung could identify it's him even if he was blindfolded, and Jaebum was quiet. He remembers Jinyoung and him. Jinyoung. Jinyoung.
Jinyoung.
"Is this really a museum?"
He's getting uncomfortable now, now that the past is sinking in, mixing in with the present.
"Yes."
"It's more of a house."
It's a weird feeling — like it was magic.
"It seems like a house, so it's more cozy."
"Did you find this or you built this?"
"Why are you asking. . ?" Jinyoung sits properly next to him on the carpet. "It's legally mine."
"Really?"
They found fun in arguing. But this isn't an argument, and funnily enough, what caused them to break apart was not the argument, but the agreement within it.
"Yes."
"What makes you have an idea to build a museum here?"
"It's just a mini-museum for my art. I don't have space for that in my apartment."
"It could get lost."
"I never placed anything personal. Whoever sees it, I hope they appreciate it."
"Since when was this?"
"Since I worked as an intern for the company."
"So, since college?"
"Yes."
"How come I don't know about it?"
Jinyoung sighs. "I thought we were through this, hyung."
"You never answered my question. I asked this around six years ago already. And how old are we? In our damn twenties." Jaebum pushes his glasses up. "I woke up in your fucking dorm alone. All of your things were gone. There was no note. You never told me anything. You just left, over where? Over a call that didn't even last a minute. D'you remember when that happened? When we had a date."
"I'm really sorry. That's really selfish of me to break up with you, but I had a good opportunity. I really needed the job. I really wanted it, too." Jinyoung surpassed positions quickly without the help of magic.
Out of Jinyoung's strong will to grant Jaebum's wishes, sometimes, he himself has no control on what he can do, if Jaebum's wish applies to him. It is simply because Jinyoung had the natural talent of light, but he doesn't have access to other forms of magic unless he has a wand.
And he doesn't have access to other forms of magic — like reversal magic, wherein one can undo one's spell — if he doesn't know what they are!
That was part of the basic magic, as Jinyoung was studying, alonside with potions. But with the forgetful potion, he managed to completely forget about it.
"It's okay."
Silence.
"Why am I here?"
"Because you like art."
"Why did you bring me along with you?"
"We were both bored."
"Is that the real reason?"
"Yes."
"Or does history repeat itself? Is this a date, too? And it's dawn already. I couldn't leave at this time. What if I wake up, and I would be alone again? Where's my job then? It's gone? And I'm a fucking receptionist, Jinyoung."
Jinyoung's eyes are sad. I wish you won't tell me everything, he remembers Jaebum saying that, and Jinyoung grants it. He might have spilled a forgetful potion on himself, but he remembers that, because that's what bothered Jaebum the most.
"I really wish we'd never see each other again."
Under his breath, Jinyoung muttered, "Wish granted."
-
The following day at work, Jaebum greets person after person as usual with a polite smile.
By noon, he suddenly receives a call, and luckily, there weren't much people needed to tended to. He leaves the job to another receptionist. There were the two of them, but Jaebum works alone in the mornings.
"Hey, I have errands to do, can you please come to the fifth floor to get the reports? It's in a blue folder and it's labeled — damn, everyone's busy. And I'm desperate as fuck. Can you please give this to the VP? Thanks, Jaebum!"
The Vice President. Jaebum obliges without question, and takes the blue folder to be submitted. He uses the elevator to reach the VP's floor.
Wow, he thinks, he'll see Jinyoung again.
But he should keep it cool. He should keep his cool.
He walks down the hallway, and he finally reaches Jinyoung's office. It's quite minimalistic and clean — Jinyoung's style. He knows it already.
With a few knocks, he is asked by the secretary to come in, and when he does, he is ready to keep his cool, however —
Instead of a formal young man, with black hair, and with the name of Park Jinyoung, he sees Jackson Wang sitting on his spot. JACKSON WANG is written on the card, and underneath, it says the lengthy title of a vice president.
Since when?!
"Where's Jinyoung?"
Jackson tilts his head attentively. "Sorry, who?"
"Jinyoung. Park Jinyoung."
"I'm sorry, Jaebummie. I don't know anyone with that name."
But he had photos of you.
"Ah, sorry for that, sir," Jaebum decides to think about this later. "Anyway, sir, here are some documents, it's from—"
"Mark-hyung," he recites. Then he looks up at Jaebum with a bright smile. "Thank you so much! Good luck on your job, Jaebummie!"
"Thanks, sir." He wants to hide his uneasiness. He wants to.
He has to.
Jaebum is still freaking out as he walked on the hallway, used the elevator, and as he walked again back to his desk.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Park Jinyoung couldn't just disappear like that. Right?
With a deep breath, he walked down faster towards the reception desk in the ground floor, his usual spot. Okay.
Calm down.
But he can't — he really can't.
This is absurd.
At his very desk, there is a green mug with a strawberry milk inside. But that's not what freaked Jaebum out the most.
It's the photograph of him in the business meeting last night, intently looking at a painting with a fellow co-worker and a client. Behind it, is Jinyoung's pseudonym, signed underneath two words: I'm sorry.
And it takes two words for Im Jaebum to wish again.
But Park Jinyoung, the wizard, is no longer here to see — to read his expression, and to grant it for him.