Chapter Text
“Dokja-ssi?”
Kim Dokja looked up from the latest web novel update that he was reading, startled back into reality. A woman with sleek, chestnut hair was squeezing between two weary-looking salary men towards him. The subway car veered slightly and she stumbled a bit before catching herself on the bar next to him, straightening up with easy elegance.
“Yoo Sangah-ssi? I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Dokja quickly put away his phone, but her perceptive eyes didn't miss the flash of the page before it disappeared into his pocket.
“Engrossed in your stories as always I see.” She laughed lightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Dokja smiled back a bit tightly, but didn't respond. After an awkward beat of silence, he realized that he should offer a seat to her and belatedly scooted over to make room. She sat down, smoothing out her spotless, cream-coloured pencil skirt before crossing her legs.
“I usually don’t take this route, but my boss needs me to drop off some materials at our Sinsa office,” she answered his earlier comment.
“Ah,” Dokja acknowledged. Then he remembered an update he’d seen a couple months ago on her social media page.
“You’ve become the assistant editor at Olympus Magazine right? I owe you a late congratulations,” he said sincerely. Yoo Sangah had been a talented and diligent worker for as long as he’d known her, it was no doubt a deserved promotion.
She waved off his praise. “Not too much has changed, I’m still mostly running errands for our chief editor as you can see,” she smiled good-naturedly, giving the briefcase in her hands a little shake.
“Anyway, I wouldn’t have made it this far without Dokja-ssi’s help all those years ago during our internship together. I still count you as one of the people I look up to the most in our industry.” At her words, he looked down at his hands.
“Yoo Sangah-ssi is too kind,” he replied, keeping his tone purposefully light. “I was just as clueless back then as you were.”
Immediately, he internally winced at his word choice. That wasn’t quite the right thing to say. Yoo Sangah didn’t say anything next to him.
He glanced back up at her to gauge her reaction. Luckily, it seemed she didn’t think anything of it as she was looking out the window wearing a serene expression. The subway was currently running aboveground, streaking across the glistening Han River. The early evening sun stretched in through the window and caught on her face, illuminating her long eyelashes and the soft curves of her cheeks. She was undoubtedly beautiful, and had only become more so as the years passed - the cute girlishness he knew when they were younger had slowly become refined poise.
The moment passed as they were plunged back into the dark tunnels, and Yoo Sangah turned back around to face him.
“How have you been?”
“All the same as usual. Uriel continues to keep me busy at work,” he replied, the tension in his shoulders loosening as their conversation drifted back to small talk.
“I’m sure she’s keeping you on your toes,” she smiled. He nodded in agreement.
The subway chimed as they pulled into the Sinsa stop.
“This is where I get off. Let’s have a meal together soon, okay?” Sangah stood up, straightening out her blazer.
“Yes, okay.”
With a wave, she stepped off the train and disappeared into the commuter crowd. Dokja released a breath he’d been holding, and relaxed back into his seat. Running into Sangah always came with a nerve-wracking journey back to old memories, but thankfully their encounters were usually brief - neither of them ever followed up on the promises to have a meal together.
In an attempt to distract himself, he pulled his phone back out to continue with the chapter he’d been reading. Several stops passed in a blur and he found himself engrossed once again in the story.
Dokja steadily scrolled, reaching the end as he neared his home stop. A frown appeared on his face as he realized the chapter ended in a particularly unsatisfying cliffhanger. He quickly switched windows to his messages app, preparing to send a strongly worded text to the author.
At that moment, the subway abruptly screeched to a halt, brakes screaming and sparks flying outside the window. Dokja’s phone clattered out of his hand at the sudden jolt, sliding under his seat. Shouts of surprise sounded all around him, people putting their hands to their ears to shut out the squealing noise. The lights flickered haphazardly, before completely going out - plunging the entire car into darkness. A little girl a few seats down screamed with terror. The salary men around Dokja didn’t fare any better, the rising panic in their voices palpable.
“Hey!”
“What’s going on?”
“Why has the subway stopped?”
Dokja groped around underneath his seat for his phone. He found its familiar form and grasped it tightly before rising back onto his seat. Just then, the dim, red-hued emergency lights flicked on. Now with some light in the subway, some of the people who had jumped to their feet slowly sank back down to sitting. While nervousness still edged their voices, at the very least they could see each other.
“It’s okay, the power grid probably went down.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll come back soon.”
Dokja’s eyes swept around the subway car, trying to see if anyone had gotten hurt with the sudden stop. The frightened girl’s mother was soothing her, pulling her tight into her arms as she stroked the child's head and whispered reassurances. Dokja quickly looked away towards the other passengers, who luckily all seemed fine if only a bit spooked. Most of them were desperately trying to find a phone signal to call for help or were anxiously wondering out loud about what exactly was happening.
A still figure leaning against the back of the train caught his eye.
The man was tall and broad shouldered, wavy dark hair sweeping down across his forehead. He was clad in all black with his arms crossed emphatically, as if the chaos unravelling around him didn’t concern him in the slightest. He was wearing a black face mask so Dokja couldn’t see his expression, but the moment his eyes slid his way, the man turned and met his eye contact head on with an unnamable ferocity. Strangely unable to look away, Dokja maintained his stare.
Finally, the crackling intercom ripped his attention away.
“Passengers, there has been a problem with the power. We are working through it as we speak and we should be up and running in a few minutes. I apologize for the inconvenience to everyone and thank you for your patience.”
His fellow riders all gave an audible sigh of relief, only a few grumbling in annoyance at the delay.
With his own worries quelled as well, Dokja adjusted himself and turned on his phone again. He flipped open another web novel to pass the time.
As promised, the subway hummed back to life within a few minutes and the regular fluorescent overhead lights came back on. He squinted a bit at the sudden brightness but was glad that it seemed he would make it home not too late after all. Dokja was looking forward to his bed after the long day he had spent meeting a deadline for Uriel. She, for some reason, had been insistent that they needed to publish an article on the latest BL drama that had been released.
In Dokja’s opinion, it didn’t exactly seem like a hard-hitting, time-sensitive piece, but what did he know? He was just whim to Uriel’s incessant and sometimes strange demands. Whatever her strategy was though, it was undeniably successful as she had been able to grow a relatively unknown magazine to a reputable, alternative publication popular with serious readers within just a few years. There was a need for a fluff piece every now and then, Dokja supposed.
The subway thankfully continued its journey without another hiccup and two stops later, Dokja stood up to get off. Suddenly, he remembered the striking stranger from earlier and glanced at the back of the train again.
It was empty - the man must’ve left inconspicuously at the stop prior.
Shaking away that odd impression, he stepped out as soon as the doors slid open, a spring in his step as he eagerly thought about which convenience store instant ramen he was going to pick for that night’s dinner.
-
“So what did you think?” Han Sooyoung put her hands against her chin with an expectant look on her face. He couldn’t see it through the phone screen but he knew she was tapping her feet impatiently as well.
Dokja slurped the last of his instant jjajang noodles and wiped his mouth quickly.
“What’s with the cliffhanger?” he asked, slipping in a petulant whine. He sat back in his chair as he tossed the bowl into the trash nearby. Sooyoung gave him a wicked smile and roughly combed back her choppy black hair.
“Well, I have to keep the readers coming back somehow, don’t I?” she shrugged innocently.
“Right, because you struggle so much with readership.” Dokja rolled his eyes. She returned with an arrogant look.
“Well, my loyal fans do have to wait a bit longer now between chapters than what they’re used to,” she responded leisurely. “The filming for The Infinite Regressor is really ramping up these days.”
Dokja knew better than anyone how crazy Sooyoung’s schedule had become. Since she had achieved her first web novel hit five years ago, her time had become increasingly hectic. Film and television studios clamoured for the rights to her works and being as protective of her artistry as she was, she insisted on overseeing each adaption. Dokja often complained to her about how difficult it was to find time to hang out these days.
He was happy for her all the same though. After all, he also knew better than anyone how deserved her groundbreaking success was. When they had first met over a decade ago, she was just a fledgling writer, typing up mistake-ridden chapters on the internet when she was supposed to be in after-school tutoring sessions.
“My honest opinion though, is that it was good,” Dokja told her. Despite all the teasing, he took his job as her first reader very seriously.
“I like that we’re finally starting to see into the protagonist’s past, it really helps put some of the decisions he’s made into perspective. I was worried it might be a bit contrived since up until now he’s been a bit of an edgelord, but I really thought the way you portrayed it worked.”
Sooyoung took in his praise with a self-satisfied grin. “Thank you very much, my dear reader.” She tipped an imaginary hat.
“I wasn’t finished,” he interrupted. Her hat tip stopped in mid air. “I'm still not quite convinced by the deuteragonist though. While he’s competent and a great foil to the protagonist, I don’t understand what’s driving him or why he continues to accompany the main character in the first place.”
His best friend huffed in pretend annoyance but then quickly brightened up again. “All in good time. I have that planned out, you just need patience,” she winked.
Dokja didn’t doubt her. Even in the beginning, when her style was hasty and unsubtle, Sooyoung’s storytelling ability never disappointed.
“I will be waiting with bated breath,” he said solemnly. She barked a laugh and languidly lounged back on her cushy office chair.
“So anything new and exciting to report?” she asked, twirling a strand of her dark hair into her mouth to chew. It was a gross habit he repeatedly admonished her for, but something she’d never grown out of.
“The power in the subway went out for a couple minutes today,” he said.
“Wow, how riveting, tell me more,” Sooyoung looked at him through half-lidded eyes, clearly bored.
“I mean it was pretty scary,” he muttered defensively. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Oh, and also I ran into Yoo Sangah,” Dokja said, as an afterthought.
“Yoo Sangah?” With this admission, Sooyoung immediately leaned into the camera, her eyes bright with interest. “Did you trip all over yourself like the last time you saw her?”
“I did not trip all over myself last time,” he protested. “And it was fine. We just talked about this and that for a few minutes before she had to go.”
“Isn’t she a big shot editor now at that popular magazine?”
“Yeah,” he affirmed. “But she was the same as always, she hasn’t changed much personality-wise.”
“You really dropped the bag with that one,” Sooyoung chuckled to herself.
Dokja laughed lightly as well and absently fiddled with his abandoned chopsticks still on the table. Sooyoung coughed quietly.
“Anyhow, the past is in the past,” she quickly said. “Did she ask you to have a meal with her again?"
"Mhm."
Honestly, I think you should take her up on the offer. You two agreed to stay friends after all.”
“That’s just something people say."
“I think Yoo Sangah is someone who would mean it though,” Sooyoung insisted. “Also, it's my responsibility to find you some new caretakers - I mean friends - now that I’m so caught up with work.”
Dokja gave her a withering look. “What am I? Your cat? I don’t need babysitting.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, as if to confirm that she indeed did regard him as a pet.
“Anyway, I do have new friends. I’m seeing them this weekend, in fact.” The words came out sounding more pathetic than Dokja meant, and it earned him a condescending look.
“Is this that Jung Heewon woman you met a couple months ago while working on the martial arts piece?”
Dokja nodded.
“Well, I’m still not exactly sure what could possibly compel her to befriend you, but I’m glad you’re opening yourself up to these new social opportunities,” Sooyoung placed a hand over her heart, eyes full of insincerity. Before he could retort back, her eyes flicked upward, as if reading something at the top of her phone.
“What does this bastard want…” she grumbled, snatching the phone up in dramatic fashion. Suddenly, Dokja could only see the tips of her bangs, poking in haphazard directions.
“Sorry, it’s the producer of the show calling. I have to see what he wants,” she sighed heavily. “I’ll talk to you later?”
Although slightly miffed he wasn’t able to get the last word in on her dig at him earlier, he quickly said goodbye and let her go, knowing this new producer she was working with was a piece of work.
He cleaned up the remains of his convenience store dinner, sweeping the fish cake wrapper into the trash. While his apartment was on the small (cozy, he liked to call it) side, he tried to keep it relatively neat. Dokja washed his hands and looked around to see if he had missed anything.
His eyes caught on the intimidating pile of laundry in the corner of his room and sighed. Despite his best efforts, dirty clothes were a constant hovering presence in his apartment. It was rare for him to get down time at home and so that pile was often just an ever-growing monstrosity. Only when it became a near-sentient being would he finally force himself to crack open his washer.
Musing, he went over and gathered the loose laundry into his basket. It was one of those rare nights that he didn’t have an article to work on, so naturally he should capitalize on it. Uriel hadn’t assigned him anything after the BL fluff piece, and there weren’t any pressing leads on his radar. Dokja wondered idly as he dumped the overflowing basket into the washer whether Uriel would have a new story for him to dive into tomorrow. If not, maybe he could even take a day or two off.
He allowed himself a little smile at that idea and began daydreaming about what he would do with such a luxury. There was a comic store he and Sooyoung used to frequent in their college days that he hadn’t been to in ages. It was an hour and a half ride away so he usually didn’t have that sort of time to go, but with a vacation day then it might be possible.
With that plan in mind, he hummed happily to himself as he flicked on the washing machine and finished off the rest of his chores. Despite the very strange subway ride today, the rest of the week was looking up.