Chapter Text
Try as he might, nothing Jongseob did made his hair look any nicer. It was a mess, tumbling down his back in long, bleached waves. Some days it just didn’t want to cooperate.
He gave up with a huff, shoving the strands out of his eyes and focusing on his tie instead. He tucked it into the collar of his white shirt, smoothing out the wrinkled material with his hands. He hadn’t quite had the time to get around to his ironing this week. Oh well.
Jongseob grabbed the fabric strap of his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder and flinging his bedroom door open. He paused only momentarily in the hallway to pet his cat Crypto, one part of his morning routine he’d never skip. He could hear his mother humming to herself in the kitchen as he came rushing down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
You see, that was the thing about Kim Jongseob. No matter how hard he tried - and trust me, he did try - he was just always late. It was something he couldn’t break, a habit so ingrained that even the people around him had stopped trying to correct it.
And so, his mother just sighed as he unlocked the front door, calling after him to ‘have a good day’ and ‘be home by four thirty for dinner!’
With not even two thousand residents and situated almost an hour away from the nearest city, ‘Honja’ lived up to its name; ‘Alone’. It was the town Jongseob had called home his entire life, all eighteen years.
Honja High School was the only college for miles around, so Jongseob’s education path hadn’t involved much decision making. It also meant, as much as he despised the school, there weren’t any alternatives available. Kitae’s teasing just had to be endured.
Jongseob gripped his bag tighter around his body as he ran, his plain black sneakers assisting his movement more than the required dress shoes would have. He hadn’t thought to tie his hair up, having to spit strands from his mouth and swipe them from his eyes as the cool wind whipped around him.
Most mornings he biked to school, but, unlike tonight, most evenings he also biked out to the Hideout with his friends. Tonight, his parents were having the minister and his wife over for dinner and wanted their son to be there. Jongseob still hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to tell his parents he wasn’t Christian. (He was working on it…)
Jongseob slammed into the school’s main door, shoving it open and stepping into the hall. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his hammering heart as he slowed to a fast walk. He crossed the hall, making a beeline for the second door on the left; the music class he was currently twenty minutes late for.
With his hand on the door handle, Jongseob took a moment to steel himself before he entered. Mr Goo was standing at the front of the room, already speaking before his eyes even landed on Jongseob. “You’re late again, Mr Kim.”
Jongseob winced, easing the door closed behind him and making his way towards the back of the room where his waiting desk stood. He knew better than to talk back, dropping his bag and slumping down into his seat. In his peripheral, Jongseob could see his best friends sharing a look.
It was only when he reached for his textbook that Jongseob realised he had completely forgotten to pack his bag.
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“Dude, you even forgot to make lunch? That’s so unlike you,” Taeyang gasped, his voice lined with a teasing tone that made Jongseob want to punch him.
Instead, he chose to exercise his self-restraint, running a hand down his face and groaning softly. “Can I just have a bite of your sandwich or what? I didn’t have breakfast this morning either.”
Taeyang took pity on him, offering one of his tomato and cheese sandwiches like he was parting ways with something sacred. Who the hell even liked tomato and cheese in a sandwich? Jongseob was starving though, so he took the food without another word.
“Oh, did you hear? The arcade is finally getting ‘Donkey Kong’!” Intak piped up, his eyes sparkling. He was doodling in his sketchbook, the blocky characters split into chunks by the paper’s lines.
Taeyang swallowed his bite, his eyebrows shooting up. “Didn’t it come out in ‘81?”
“Yeah, welcome to Honja, where we don’t get games until five years later, and that’s if we’re lucky,” Intak replied, his tone sarcastic. “Let’s be happy we’re getting it in ‘86 and not, like, 1990 or something.”
“True,” Taeyang hummed, taking another bite of his sandwich.
Taeyang, Intak, and Jongseob were settled in their usual spot, a small picnic table tucked just out of the way of the main grassy field. They had commandeered it in their first year at high school, defending it religiously from the scrawny thirteen year olds every new year.
The three of them had been friends since primary, going through their entire education side by side. That was the thing about such a small town: there wasn’t much new company to rely on. People either liked you or they didn’t.
Jongseob was truly lucky he had ended up with such good friends.
(Such good friends who had strange tastes in food, he decided, scrunching his nose as he took another bite of the sandwich in his hand.)
The only downside about having a regular spot is that people always know where to find you. Jongseob could sense Kitae’s presence before he even rounded the corner.
“Hey, losers,” the bully sneered, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. He was smirking, his lips curled up around the edges in an attempt at a smile. It was incredibly unflattering, Jongseob decided.
His two cronies Minhoon and Jika crowded around Kitae, hanging off his every word like their lives depended on it.
Jongseob didn’t really understand why, but at some point over the years, Kitae and his cronies had decided that the three friends were the perfect targets and since then, they spent probably too much energy trying to mess with them. It rarely ever got physical, but Jongseob had been ruffed up a few times by them. It usually stuck to snide remarks and cruel nicknames.
But today, Jongseob could barely be bothered. He could already feel irritation bubbling up inside his chest. “What do you want, Kitae?” he asked, his voice colder than he intended. But he made no move to fix it. If he was cold to Kitae, it was only because the bully deserved it.
“Nothing. I just came to see how you spoons were doing.” Kitae paused, stroking his chin like he was about to have some kind of scientific breakthrough. “Y’know, when we graduate, I’m gonna miss seeing your idiot faces so often. Who else is gonna brighten my day by looking so ridiculous.”
“Genuienly why are you even over here?” Taeyang grumbled, staring daggers at the bullies. “Just get lost already. You don’t like us, we don’t like you. The school ground are big, so just fuck off.”
“Wow, Taeyang,” Kitae gasped, pressing a hand over his heart, “such vulgar language! I didn’t expect that from you.”
Intak’s expression turned deadly as he pushed himself up to his feet. “Go away, asshole!” He knocked his pencil case off the seat beside him as he stood, the white material tumbling down onto the ground.
Jongseob watched it fall, landing with a thud on the wet grass. He sighed as he reached for it, conscious of how the grass and mud stains could seep into the smooth white material. Intak wouldn’t appreciate the stains.
But as Jongseob’s hand stretched towards the pencil case, something very strange happened. The pencil case moved away from him. It shifted across the grass, sliding just out of his reach.
Jongseob froze, blinking down at the inanimate object. What the hell?
He tried again, shifting closer and stretching towards the pencil case… but the very same thing happened. It slid further away, avoiding Jongseob’s grip completely. He let out an annoyed sound, standing up and taking a step towards the pencil case.
Jongseob levelled it with a glare, reaching down once more. He snatched it up quickly, leaving no time for it to slip away. The bottom of the case was wet from the grass’ dew, but it didn’t appear to have any stains which was good.
A cackle cut through the silence and Jongseob felt his cheeks burn. He had momentarily forgotten that he wasn’t alone.
“Wow, you can’t even pick up a pencil case like a normal person,” Kitae scoffed, his eyes predatory. “Save yourself the embarrassment next time and just leave it for someone else to get.”
Kitae waved at his cronies to follow as he turned the corner and left. Jongseob could hear the three of them laughing at him as they faded into the distance. His hand tightened around the pencil case, something inside sticking uncomfortably into his palm.
Intak sighed as he reached to take his pencil case and save it from Jongseob’s abuse. “Leave it. At least they’re gone. I didn’t even notice I dropped this. Thanks for getting it for me.”
Jongseob nodded stiffly, settling back into his seat wordlessly. His mind kept going back to the way the case had moved on its own. He stared down at his hands. Was it him? Had he caused that?
He pushed the thought from his mind. Superpowers didn’t exist. They were from video games and comic books, nothing more.
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Jongseob closed the door to his bedroom, pressing his back to the wood.
The minister and his wife would be there in an hour and a half, so he didn’t have long before his mother would come knocking, asking for him to help her set up the living room.
He dropped his bag down beside the door, running a hand through his hair and staring around his room. It wasn’t a huge room, but he liked it all the same. His walls were white, one side slanted where the roof cut in. The space was littered with posters, all kinds of things he was interested in; video games, movies, bands, anything and everything he could get his hands on.
His bed was along the side wall, the duvet and pillow covers a matching pinstripe brown and blue, and beside it stood his desk littered with all kinds of notebooks and loose papers. Under the slanted wall sat a simple blue couch and a keyboard.
Jongseob rolled his shoulders back, stretching out his body. He turned towards the set of shelves, his stereo and CD stack staring back at him. He grabbed out his Queen ‘A Kind Of Magic’ CD, placing it down on the carpet. Then he dropped down in front of it, folding his legs under him and staring at the CD.
A Kind Of Magic had only come out a few months prior. Jongseob remembered taking a bus with Intak and Taeyang all the way to the city to buy it, all three of them buzzing to listen to it.
Now, as he stared at the bright coloured cover, he felt something else buzzing inside his chest. Possibility. That pencil case thing could have been a fluke, something weird that would never happen again.
But if this was real? If Jongseob could control it…?
He shook off the feeling. He couldn’t get ahead of himself, not when he didn’t even know if this was real yet.
Jongseob took a deep breath in, closing his eyes and concentrating. He focused on what he wanted to do. Move the CD. With his mind… Okay, maybe this was a little silly.
He reached out a hand, peeking one of his eyes open. He watched the CD closely as he stretched out his arm towards it.
For a single, tense moment, nothing happened.
And then the CD skidded across the carpet, stopping just out of Jongseob’s reach. His eyes shot open, a jolt of something shooting through his chest. What the actual hell?
Jongseob tried again, the CD pushing further across the floor. It was like they were different ends of the same magnet.
There was no wind inside, nothing else he could blame for the movement. The CD was also sitting on the rough carpet covering his bedroom floor. It wasn’t going to slide along carpet without being physically pushed.
But, as cool as it was, Jongseob found himself frowning. What kind of power was repelling objects away from him? He gains actual superpowers and all he can do is send things away from himself?
He tried to call the CD closer, but it didn’t move. He tried so hard his head started to spin. What the actual hell?
A sharp knock cut through Jongseob’s thoughts, snapping his focus away from the CD before him. “‘Seob, sweetie,” his mother called through the door, “come help set the table!”
He pressed his palms to his eyes, sighing as he forced himself up to stand. “Coming!” It took him an embarrassingly long time to pick the CD up and put it back on the shelf. He chased the CD along the ground, trying to catch it every time it slid further away.
Then he took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. It was just setting the table… with all of his mother’s finest china plates. Jongseob winced. He wondered how this was going to go.