In Your Eyes Part One
Pairing: MinKey
Length: 4k+
Rating: PG
Warnings: super dialogue heavy, fantasy, sort of telepathy?
Summary: They live on opposite sides of the country, but are able to see and feel what the other does - despite being strangers. Kibum and MInho share senses, but begin to share much more than that.
The first time it happened, Minho was running around the playground during recess. His friends and he were taking turns on the jungle gym, going down the slides and climbing across the monkey bars as their fourth grade teacher supervised with little interest. They were big kids now and constant supervision was unnecessary.
As Minho made his way across the monkey bars, for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, a white-hot flash of pain struck the right side of his face just above his eye. The pain was so strong that he lost his concentration and therefore the strength in his extremities. He felt himself free fall for a second as the pain faded, far too late to do anything to prevent the fall. He was so startled by the foreign pain that he didn’t brace himself, his arms lifeless at his side and unable to avoid the face to ground collision.
The pain near his eye had been so unexpected that it paled in comparison to the pain blossoming on his cheek. His friends and teacher rushed to inspect the damages and Minho brought a hand to his face to reassure himself that nothing had happened. When he brought his hand down, he saw a small trail of blood that invaded his hand and promptly passed out.
After explaining the situation to both his parents and school administrators, he’d been taken to the hospital to get examined at his mother’s insistence. He wasn’t sure if he should divulge the fact that he had seen a flash of light just before he felt like he was tripping instead of floating above the ground like he was. After all the exams and machines he had been put through, Minho wasn’t sure if he should bother with confessing the weird circumstances.
When he was released from the hospital with a clean bill of health, aside from the new scar on his cheek where he fell on the rocks of the playground, Minho put the unexplained flash and feelings out of his mind.
It was the first of many memories he chose to bury deep in his subconscious.
~
On the other side of the world, Kibum inspected his eyebrow closely. The doctor had stitched the wound carefully, but had warned that there would be a scar there. Although he wasn’t going to tell his halmoni about it, he thought it was kind of cool. With a scar he would look scary, and maybe the other boys at school would stop picking on him. Kibum never understood their need to push others down, especially when they were minding their own business.
Regardless of their reasoning, it was easier to focus on the problems going on in school instead of contemplating the reason he’d gotten the scar in the first place. Even though they tried to hide it, Kibum knew that his parents were fighting again. It wasn’t the first time that it got this bad, he had distinctive memories of his aunt taking him away as he watched tears stream down his mother’s face. He thought he was being stealthy, as he got out of bed to make his way towards the source of the yelling, but he hadn’t accounted for his mother pushing his door open to check on him.
The light from their living room disoriented him, leading him to slip and catch the side of his face on the edge of his dresser. The pain at his eyebrow was blinding and a sting quickly followed it on his cheek.
As Kibum clutched the side of his face, he felt a darkness flood his mind and succumbed to it.
After he’d been to the doctor, the stitches above his eye firmly in place, he’d gone home with his grandmother. She assured him that he’d just be staying with her temporarily while his parents worked things out. Kibum didn’t ask what needed to be worked out, or why he needed to be out of the house for it to occur, he just nodded and went along quietly. He just hoped that he wouldn’t be alone.
~
Kibum walked out of his office and onto the sidewalk attempting to juggle all of the things he had to review at home. As much as he hated it, he knew he’d have to take a cab home today. He hated it because his walk home was usually the only part of his day that he got to relax and clear his mind. The crisp New York City air did wonders for the clutter in his mind and he always looked forward to his time spent walking the blocks down to his apartment. Today, however, it seemed that he would have to delay his walk until after he got home and dumped his work onto the kitchen table.
Getting a cab in Midtown was challenging enough at the time that normal people left their offices, but Kibum was well aware of the fact that he’d have to fight the dinner crowd for a taxi at this hour. He should have left earlier, but the amount of work due before the deadline for next month’s edition was almost insurmountable. Well, that’s what he thought the week before the deadline just about every month. He’d been working for Vogue for three years now, but nothing ever ran smoothly (except for last December when he was feeling exceptionally productive and managed to finish all of his work and attended several charity events. It was a weird month).
When an empty cab finally approached, Kibum rushed to get inside as his arms were starting to turn to jelly. His paperwork was heavy. He gave general directions while rubbing his temples, with the deadline looming he was feeling more tired than he usual and a tension headache was hitting him hard.
Kibum tried to focus on the music playing quietly in the taxi, far too low in volume to mask the bustle of the city or the fait yelling that he could hear. ‘That’s odd,’ Kibum thought to himself, the traffic accompanied by the incessant horns that blared usually drowned out any other noise pollution.
“Get your ass across the field!” he heard yelled right by his ear. It was so loud that the voice completely invaded Kibum’s head. He turned to look for the source, but found nothing. He could hear heavy breathing that was practically panting, he could make out other voices, which seemed agitated, but he still heard the noise of the traffic in the background. Kibum felt a little bit crazy as he searched for a field or even a running man in the city streets. To his chagrin, the driver didn’t seem to have the same concerns as he, which made it obvious that this was only happening to Kibum. He would have liked to pretend that this was the first time something like this occurred, but Kibum had stopped lying to himself a long time ago, around the time that he realized that he should probably lie to everyone else.
The best thing he could do for himself now was to take deep breaths and focus on where he was now. Breathe in and take in all of his surroundings. Breathe out and pick one thing to focus on. Breathe in and look at all the details on the cab driver’s license. Breath out and notice the New York City blocks go by.
Once he could only hear the things that were supposed to be around him, Kibum let out a sigh. Even though he knew how to deal with these situations, he always felt a little disoriented afterwards. Thankfully, the episodes were easily overlooked by others, disregarded as mild anxiety attacks that could be explained away by his rather high stress job. Not to mention that everyone in New York had a condition, self diagnosed or otherwise, so it was easier to fly under the radar here. Much easier than it was during his childhood in Korea. It was important to Kibum, to hide the episodes as it prevented questions.
The cab pulled up to his apartment building after Kibum had gathered his wits. He paid and got out trying to keep all of his paperwork together. It was going to be a long night of proofreading articles and organizing the layouts of his section to the liking of the editor.
Kibum made his way up to his apartment before struggling with his keys and managing to get inside. The place was dark, despite the fact that three people shared the apartment. It was Thursday so that explained Jinki’s absence, but Taemin should have been home. He shrugged as he dropped all of his belongings onto the living room coffee table. Kibum went into his room and changed out of his work attire, high fashion and uncomfortable, in favor of jeans and a cardigan. After the episode in the cab, he seriously needed his walk.
“Kibum! I have sandwiches from the deli you like!” Taemin yelled out, not taking the time to look up from the coat rack to notice that Kibum was about five feet in front of him.
“Thanks Taemin!” He yelled back, enjoying the startled look on his roommate’s face.
“You shit,” Taemin muttered before pushing his way past Kibum and into the kitchen. “Where are you going?” Kibum took in his friend’s appearance, still in work out sweats rolled up to the knew and a loose tank top, and realized that he’d probably just gotten out of practice.
“I’m gonna go on a walk,” he answered and made his way to their entryway to pull on some shoes. “I had to take a cab home because I had all my stuff to bring home.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Taemin asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. Both Taemin and Jinki were well aware of Kibum’s tendencies. The three of them had been living together for the better part of a decade, six years in fact, ever since Kibum saw an ad looking for a roommate when he was fresh out of college. Taemin had been working at a dance company and was a part of the ensemble for some off-Broadway plays. They had all come far in their professions but for some reason or other, they decided to live together even after their individual successes. They could afford a much nicer apartment than the one they started off in. They didn’t even live in Brooklyn anymore.
In all those years together, they had learned a lot about each other. Some of their rather important points were learned early on (the hard way). Taemin and Kibum knew that Jinki was not to be woken up before nine a.m., for any reason. Jinki was the nicest human to have ever walked the earth, after nine in the morning. Kibum, who had to be at the office the earliest, had learned to get ready in near silence. In cases of emergencies, Taemin had a special way of waking Jinki, which Kibum tried his hardest never to think of or imagine. Jinki and Kibum knew that Taemin needed reminding of almost everything, and if they didn’t take it upon themselves to do so, then they couldn’t expect Taemin to remember. Jinki made sure that Taemin got to work with his cell phone and house keys and Kibum sent daily reminders of meals and anything that needed to be brought home. Jinki and Taemin, on the other hand, knew that sometimes Kibum wanted to be alone. They knew about his daily walks and that when he was locked in his room it was because he needed time for himself, otherwise he would work in their shared spaces. (Kibum, unfortunately, also knew that even though their place was nice enough to not have paper-thin walls, music coming from behind the other bedroom’s closed door meant he probably didn’t want to be home.)
“Nah, I’m good.” Kibum answered, making his way out of the apartment.
“Don’t take too long, I don’t want to eat by myself!” Taemin shouted after him. Kibum didn’t reply but kept his request in mind.
He guessed that it was a little weird to live with a couple, and that while others may think it too, it wasn’t so bad. Their first apartment had been a weirdly small three-bedroom apartment, 45 minutes out from the city by train, but their struggles had brought the three of them close almost immediately. That, and somehow the possibility that the stars had aligned when they found each other because they had compatible personalities and similar customs. To be honest, the distance from the city also had them developing hermit behavior, which they refused to acknowledge as such. Netflix and takeout always won over getting ready and making their way out to socialize, though Kibum made an effort to branch out after Jinki and Taemin got together.
Sometimes, Kibum’s mind strayed into weird directions, but at the moment he just wanted to clear his mind; his walks being the only time he allowed himself to do so. It had proved detrimental in the past for his mind to wander too far, however. That was why he chose to focus on the physical world around him, letting details fill his mind until they were the only things there. He thought about the chips on the bricks that made up the outside of their building. He took in the cracks in the sidewalk and the storefronts on the main avenue. He admired the still somehow green trees that lined the street. He lamented the cloudiness of the area but carried on nonetheless.
Kibum was walking past his favorite Italian place when he noticed with a start that all of a sudden cars started popping up around him. They were zooming by right on the sidewalk, rumbling and occasionally honking, but they weren’t fully formed. They seemed translucent and his instinct told him to move into the alleyway even if he was a little bit marveled by their appearance.
He was halfway scared out of his mind and halfway in awe, but entirely confused. Kibum could see a road that was fading together with the walls of buildings around him, and he guessed he was really losing his mind.
“They’re not real,” Kibum chanted to himself, taking a moment to close his eyes. The city around him faded but the cars around him continued. They seemed more solid this way, like if they became bolder, instead of the faded images he’d seen seconds before.
“Oh thank God, I can see again,” a voice said clearly.
At the sound of the voice, Kibum’s eyes shot open to look for the source. The voices were talking to him now?
“No, no, no!” rang out just as clear as a moment ago, but Kibum looked around and was sure that he was alone in the alley. “Focus on the road ahead of you! Not on the imaginary buildings,” the voice said calmly.
“The buildings aren’t imaginary,” Kibum replied dumbly. He wasn’t sure why he was arguing with the voices in his head, or if that legitimized the near hundreds of times he’d been called crazy.
“Whoa, who’s there?” The voice called out, panic evident in his tone now. “Where are the buildings? And what do you mean they’re not imaginary?”
“They’re in New York, obviously.” The reply came out before Kibum could stop it, and really, he decided that having a conversation with the voices in your head couldn’t be a sign of good mental health.
“Well how would I know that? They’re just brick buildings.” The voice argued. Wait, why was it arguing?
“Wait, what?” Kibum questioned, “Aren’t you in my head?”
“Um, I’m pretty sure I’m in my truck, and not in anyone’s head,” was spoken clear as day in Kibum’s ear. “But how do I get the buildings to go away? I’m just trying to drive home. Ugh, Minho stop talking to imaginary people already!”
“Who’s Minho?”
“I’m Minho, who are you?”
“I’m Kibum. Wait, why do you have a name?” Kibum asked the voice in his head.
“This isn’t God, right?”
“Um, no.”
“Okay, then look, I really can’t focus on you right now, nor answer your stupid questions. I’m trying to drive and these stupid brick buildings are fading in and out of my vision, so please, please allow me to be schizophrenic at a more convenient time!” The Minho voice shouted and let out a huff.
Kibum, however reluctant, considered the possibilities. The cars that were zooming past him seemed closer and more vivid when he focused on them and further away, almost like a distant backdrop for his immediate sight, when he focused on his surroundings. Maybe if he took a moment to gather himself he could pick one to flood his vision.
After taking several deep breaths, he put all of his energy into focusing on the details of the alley and all that it contained. It was a weird feeling, almost as if his mind was pushing away the sight of the cars, not unlike what he did in the cab earlier. As he allowed himself to feel control over what he was seeing, Kibum realized he could choose which image would surround him and which one would fade into the distance. The heavy breathing the voice had settled into also faded until he couldn’t hear it anymore.
What bothered, surprised, and bewildered Kibum was that this was similar his previous episodes. While the earlier ones hadn’t often come with images, mostly sounds and physical manifestations, he’d never been able to interact with the ‘thing’ on the other end. “What exactly is on the other end?” He questioned. “Can I call it forward just like I can shut it?”
Kibum allowed his mind to open again, searching for the nagging feeling of activity. When he found what he was looking for, the cars and road rushed back to his line of sight, still mixing together with the alley.
“No! No! NO! It was just gone, why are the buildings back?!” The voice called out, obviously frustrated.
Maybe I should help him Kibum thought before speaking up. “Um, hi, voice in my head?” He called out.
“What do you mean voice inside your head? You’re the voice inside my head!”
“Okay, we’ll get to logistics later. I gather that you’re driving.” Kibum replied, already seeing cars zoom past him until he pushed them to the distance. “Well, if you want the buildings to go away, try picturing them fading into the background.”
“I tried ignoring them, but it doesn’t work!” The voice called out. Minho, Kibum recalled.
“No, acknowledge that they are real, but allow them to fade as if they were far away and getting more faint.”
“Um, okay.”
“As they fade, focus more intently on your surroundings, like the sound of the road or your stereo and that should bring you back to your world.” Kibum instructed. “Take deep breaths, that should help as well.”
Kibum heard the deep inhales and exhales and could almost physically feel the other man relax. It was a weird sensation, almost like they were sharing more than their vision.
“I think it’s working,” Minho replied. “How’d you know what to do?”
“Well, its what I did to get the cars to go away on my end.”
“What do you mean on your end? Are you in a different dimension? You’re a real person? I thought I was just losing it.”
“Um, I don’t know what this dimension is called, so I don’t know what to tell you about that, though I think New York City would be recognizable regardless of where you’re from,” Kibum answered, puzzled. What if this Minho person was an alien on another planet that could sustain life? Maybe Kibum was going to be the-
“Ugh, of course a New Yorker would assume their own importance,” Minho groaned. “But at least you’re a real person, right?”
“Yeah,” Kibum choked out. Maybe this weird, impossible really, connection they had could explain away some of his crazy. “Oh! You’re speaking English! Where are you?”
“This is too weird,” Minho quipped before answering. “I’m in Houston, that’s in Texas.”
“Yes, I know where that is,” Kibum chuckled. He should have been offended at the tone this Minho was taking, but he couldn’t help but be amused. If he wasn’t wrong, he was sharing his senses with someone in Texas. What the fuck?
“So, this is pretty freaking strange. What did you say your name was?”
“Kibum.”
“Nice to meet you?” Minho replied, sounding unsure of how to greet the voice in his head.
“Nice to meet you too, Minho.”
After that understandably awkward introduction, Kibum kind of had a million and one questions for the other man. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely appropriate to bombard the other with questions though, partially because he was driving and because he was unsure if Minho was as accepting of the situation as he was.
Perhaps it was because sharing his mind or senses or whatever with Minho, however bizarre and inexplicable and impossible, was a better explanation than all the diagnoses Kibum had received that he was so readily accepting of it. That and since he had years of experience in controlling his episodes it didn’t seem like a huge deal to him.
“So, you’re a person.” Minho said, breaking the silence. Kibum chuckled rather relieved that Minho didn’t sound nearly as freaked out as he was before.
“Yep, I’m a real person,” Kibum replied.
“Oh my God,” Minho said, laughing to himself a bit. “Its like I’m talking to myself but you keep answering.”
“Do you want me not to?” Kibum asked, already thinking of ways to keep the connection closed if it was too much for Minho. He wouldn’t force the situation.
“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant, it’s just that it’s a little strange,” Minho explained. “It’s almost like talking on the phone except I can see things. I guess like video chatting?”
“Except we can turn off the video?” Kibum helped, and Minho chuckled.
“Yeah, something like that.” Minho answered laughing. “This doesn’t weird you out? Because you don’t sound nearly as weirded out as I feel.”
Kibum sighed before trying to piece together in words how he felt. “Its not that I don’t feel weird about it, it’s just that…” It was here that Kibum struggled, unsure of how much to reveal about himself. “Its just not, its not like this is the first time something like this happens. To me.”
“So you have this thing with other people? That must be super weird for you!” Kibum almost laughed. It was unexpected, but he felt like he could feel Minho’s concern across their connection. IT was especially strange because the concern couldn’t be faked, and for someone who was so freaked out before, he sounded genuinely interested.
“Not that I want to push you further, but I can’t help but think that your voice is familiar,” Kibum said instead of answering. He couldn’t be sure until Minho confirmed it, but maybe the shouting from earlier today had been Minho as well.
“You’ve heard me before?” Minho asked, a little bewildered. Or a lot.
“Um, yeah?” Kibum answered. “Did you scream something earlier about getting across a field?”
“Oh my God, I need to pull over.” Minho gasped.
“Before you do that, I have a proposition for you, okay?” Kibum asked.
“Okay.” It was spoken so softly that Kibum was sure what he was about to do was the right thing.
“Why don’t you take the night to think about this? I know its weird and kind of scary that we have this connection thing. I think that if we both try, then we can close it, or at least ignore it,” Kibum offered. “ I have a lot of work tonight anyway, so just think about things. Whether we explore this thing or put it behind us, it’s all up to you.”
“Um, okay,” Minho replied. “Can we talk tomorrow? I have court in the morning, but I should be more or less free after noon.”
Minho’s few words sparked a thousand more questions in Kibum, but he refrained from vocalizing them. “If you don’t mind, can we wait till around seven, my time? I’m pretty sure I’ll be swamped with work until them.”
“Sure, sure.” Minho agreed. “I’ll uh, call you?”
Kibum laughed aloud at the wording, knowing that everything would work out all right. “Okay, Minho. Have a safe drive home.”
“Bye Kibum.”
“Bye.” Kibum walked home in a daze, not sure about anything except that he had a lot of work to get done.
~
Minho had never driven so recklessly before, but he hauled ass to get home. Even though Kibum, who oh dear lord-was real, had said they should wait until tomorrow to talk, Minho didn’t want to risk another apparition in his vision while driving. Sure, he had been able to get it under control with the other man’s guidance, but still. This was really weird. He though about who he could share this with, to talk it over with so that he knew what decision to make, but he couldn’t make up his mind. His first thought was Jonghyun. After being best friends for years, he’d surely be obligated to hear Minho out without shipping him off to the nearest mental institution. Or maybe he could talk to his brother. But no, he couldn’t pull Minseok away from his family on a weeknight. His parents were out of the question, regardless of how good their relationship was. Most of his other friends would probably laugh him off, as if he were joking.
If he was honest with himself, the real reason why Minho wanted to talk this out with someone was because he didn’t know if he could make the decision by himself. On one hand, holy hell it freaked him the fuck out. Kibum had heard him before, and by the sound of it, this hadn’t started recently for the other man. That frightened Minho because it had been a long time since he had stopped trying to explain weird instances. He fought with himself on whether he should be sad or relieved that someone else was going through the same thing. After the incident while driving, Minho was also terrified. He wasn’t sure he wanted to put himself in a position to be vulnerable to things like that again. What if his senses weren’t his alone when he was driving with his niece and nephew? Or with his parents? What if Kibum’s life interrupted his own?
Yet, even with all these questions and negative thoughts running through his mind, Minho’s innate optimism and love of adventure wanted to prevail. This had to have happened for a reason.
Minho smiled to himself at the simple thought of Kibum’s voice as he unlocked his front door. Despite the anxiousness that accompanied the smile, Minho couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow had in store for him.
A/N: This is an interpretation on the In Your Eyes movie. Yep, that's it.
Length: 4k+
Rating: PG
Warnings: super dialogue heavy, fantasy, sort of telepathy?
Summary: They live on opposite sides of the country, but are able to see and feel what the other does - despite being strangers. Kibum and MInho share senses, but begin to share much more than that.
The first time it happened, Minho was running around the playground during recess. His friends and he were taking turns on the jungle gym, going down the slides and climbing across the monkey bars as their fourth grade teacher supervised with little interest. They were big kids now and constant supervision was unnecessary.
As Minho made his way across the monkey bars, for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, a white-hot flash of pain struck the right side of his face just above his eye. The pain was so strong that he lost his concentration and therefore the strength in his extremities. He felt himself free fall for a second as the pain faded, far too late to do anything to prevent the fall. He was so startled by the foreign pain that he didn’t brace himself, his arms lifeless at his side and unable to avoid the face to ground collision.
The pain near his eye had been so unexpected that it paled in comparison to the pain blossoming on his cheek. His friends and teacher rushed to inspect the damages and Minho brought a hand to his face to reassure himself that nothing had happened. When he brought his hand down, he saw a small trail of blood that invaded his hand and promptly passed out.
After explaining the situation to both his parents and school administrators, he’d been taken to the hospital to get examined at his mother’s insistence. He wasn’t sure if he should divulge the fact that he had seen a flash of light just before he felt like he was tripping instead of floating above the ground like he was. After all the exams and machines he had been put through, Minho wasn’t sure if he should bother with confessing the weird circumstances.
When he was released from the hospital with a clean bill of health, aside from the new scar on his cheek where he fell on the rocks of the playground, Minho put the unexplained flash and feelings out of his mind.
It was the first of many memories he chose to bury deep in his subconscious.
~
On the other side of the world, Kibum inspected his eyebrow closely. The doctor had stitched the wound carefully, but had warned that there would be a scar there. Although he wasn’t going to tell his halmoni about it, he thought it was kind of cool. With a scar he would look scary, and maybe the other boys at school would stop picking on him. Kibum never understood their need to push others down, especially when they were minding their own business.
Regardless of their reasoning, it was easier to focus on the problems going on in school instead of contemplating the reason he’d gotten the scar in the first place. Even though they tried to hide it, Kibum knew that his parents were fighting again. It wasn’t the first time that it got this bad, he had distinctive memories of his aunt taking him away as he watched tears stream down his mother’s face. He thought he was being stealthy, as he got out of bed to make his way towards the source of the yelling, but he hadn’t accounted for his mother pushing his door open to check on him.
The light from their living room disoriented him, leading him to slip and catch the side of his face on the edge of his dresser. The pain at his eyebrow was blinding and a sting quickly followed it on his cheek.
As Kibum clutched the side of his face, he felt a darkness flood his mind and succumbed to it.
After he’d been to the doctor, the stitches above his eye firmly in place, he’d gone home with his grandmother. She assured him that he’d just be staying with her temporarily while his parents worked things out. Kibum didn’t ask what needed to be worked out, or why he needed to be out of the house for it to occur, he just nodded and went along quietly. He just hoped that he wouldn’t be alone.
~
Kibum walked out of his office and onto the sidewalk attempting to juggle all of the things he had to review at home. As much as he hated it, he knew he’d have to take a cab home today. He hated it because his walk home was usually the only part of his day that he got to relax and clear his mind. The crisp New York City air did wonders for the clutter in his mind and he always looked forward to his time spent walking the blocks down to his apartment. Today, however, it seemed that he would have to delay his walk until after he got home and dumped his work onto the kitchen table.
Getting a cab in Midtown was challenging enough at the time that normal people left their offices, but Kibum was well aware of the fact that he’d have to fight the dinner crowd for a taxi at this hour. He should have left earlier, but the amount of work due before the deadline for next month’s edition was almost insurmountable. Well, that’s what he thought the week before the deadline just about every month. He’d been working for Vogue for three years now, but nothing ever ran smoothly (except for last December when he was feeling exceptionally productive and managed to finish all of his work and attended several charity events. It was a weird month).
When an empty cab finally approached, Kibum rushed to get inside as his arms were starting to turn to jelly. His paperwork was heavy. He gave general directions while rubbing his temples, with the deadline looming he was feeling more tired than he usual and a tension headache was hitting him hard.
Kibum tried to focus on the music playing quietly in the taxi, far too low in volume to mask the bustle of the city or the fait yelling that he could hear. ‘That’s odd,’ Kibum thought to himself, the traffic accompanied by the incessant horns that blared usually drowned out any other noise pollution.
“Get your ass across the field!” he heard yelled right by his ear. It was so loud that the voice completely invaded Kibum’s head. He turned to look for the source, but found nothing. He could hear heavy breathing that was practically panting, he could make out other voices, which seemed agitated, but he still heard the noise of the traffic in the background. Kibum felt a little bit crazy as he searched for a field or even a running man in the city streets. To his chagrin, the driver didn’t seem to have the same concerns as he, which made it obvious that this was only happening to Kibum. He would have liked to pretend that this was the first time something like this occurred, but Kibum had stopped lying to himself a long time ago, around the time that he realized that he should probably lie to everyone else.
The best thing he could do for himself now was to take deep breaths and focus on where he was now. Breathe in and take in all of his surroundings. Breathe out and pick one thing to focus on. Breathe in and look at all the details on the cab driver’s license. Breath out and notice the New York City blocks go by.
Once he could only hear the things that were supposed to be around him, Kibum let out a sigh. Even though he knew how to deal with these situations, he always felt a little disoriented afterwards. Thankfully, the episodes were easily overlooked by others, disregarded as mild anxiety attacks that could be explained away by his rather high stress job. Not to mention that everyone in New York had a condition, self diagnosed or otherwise, so it was easier to fly under the radar here. Much easier than it was during his childhood in Korea. It was important to Kibum, to hide the episodes as it prevented questions.
The cab pulled up to his apartment building after Kibum had gathered his wits. He paid and got out trying to keep all of his paperwork together. It was going to be a long night of proofreading articles and organizing the layouts of his section to the liking of the editor.
Kibum made his way up to his apartment before struggling with his keys and managing to get inside. The place was dark, despite the fact that three people shared the apartment. It was Thursday so that explained Jinki’s absence, but Taemin should have been home. He shrugged as he dropped all of his belongings onto the living room coffee table. Kibum went into his room and changed out of his work attire, high fashion and uncomfortable, in favor of jeans and a cardigan. After the episode in the cab, he seriously needed his walk.
“Kibum! I have sandwiches from the deli you like!” Taemin yelled out, not taking the time to look up from the coat rack to notice that Kibum was about five feet in front of him.
“Thanks Taemin!” He yelled back, enjoying the startled look on his roommate’s face.
“You shit,” Taemin muttered before pushing his way past Kibum and into the kitchen. “Where are you going?” Kibum took in his friend’s appearance, still in work out sweats rolled up to the knew and a loose tank top, and realized that he’d probably just gotten out of practice.
“I’m gonna go on a walk,” he answered and made his way to their entryway to pull on some shoes. “I had to take a cab home because I had all my stuff to bring home.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” Taemin asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. Both Taemin and Jinki were well aware of Kibum’s tendencies. The three of them had been living together for the better part of a decade, six years in fact, ever since Kibum saw an ad looking for a roommate when he was fresh out of college. Taemin had been working at a dance company and was a part of the ensemble for some off-Broadway plays. They had all come far in their professions but for some reason or other, they decided to live together even after their individual successes. They could afford a much nicer apartment than the one they started off in. They didn’t even live in Brooklyn anymore.
In all those years together, they had learned a lot about each other. Some of their rather important points were learned early on (the hard way). Taemin and Kibum knew that Jinki was not to be woken up before nine a.m., for any reason. Jinki was the nicest human to have ever walked the earth, after nine in the morning. Kibum, who had to be at the office the earliest, had learned to get ready in near silence. In cases of emergencies, Taemin had a special way of waking Jinki, which Kibum tried his hardest never to think of or imagine. Jinki and Kibum knew that Taemin needed reminding of almost everything, and if they didn’t take it upon themselves to do so, then they couldn’t expect Taemin to remember. Jinki made sure that Taemin got to work with his cell phone and house keys and Kibum sent daily reminders of meals and anything that needed to be brought home. Jinki and Taemin, on the other hand, knew that sometimes Kibum wanted to be alone. They knew about his daily walks and that when he was locked in his room it was because he needed time for himself, otherwise he would work in their shared spaces. (Kibum, unfortunately, also knew that even though their place was nice enough to not have paper-thin walls, music coming from behind the other bedroom’s closed door meant he probably didn’t want to be home.)
“Nah, I’m good.” Kibum answered, making his way out of the apartment.
“Don’t take too long, I don’t want to eat by myself!” Taemin shouted after him. Kibum didn’t reply but kept his request in mind.
He guessed that it was a little weird to live with a couple, and that while others may think it too, it wasn’t so bad. Their first apartment had been a weirdly small three-bedroom apartment, 45 minutes out from the city by train, but their struggles had brought the three of them close almost immediately. That, and somehow the possibility that the stars had aligned when they found each other because they had compatible personalities and similar customs. To be honest, the distance from the city also had them developing hermit behavior, which they refused to acknowledge as such. Netflix and takeout always won over getting ready and making their way out to socialize, though Kibum made an effort to branch out after Jinki and Taemin got together.
Sometimes, Kibum’s mind strayed into weird directions, but at the moment he just wanted to clear his mind; his walks being the only time he allowed himself to do so. It had proved detrimental in the past for his mind to wander too far, however. That was why he chose to focus on the physical world around him, letting details fill his mind until they were the only things there. He thought about the chips on the bricks that made up the outside of their building. He took in the cracks in the sidewalk and the storefronts on the main avenue. He admired the still somehow green trees that lined the street. He lamented the cloudiness of the area but carried on nonetheless.
Kibum was walking past his favorite Italian place when he noticed with a start that all of a sudden cars started popping up around him. They were zooming by right on the sidewalk, rumbling and occasionally honking, but they weren’t fully formed. They seemed translucent and his instinct told him to move into the alleyway even if he was a little bit marveled by their appearance.
He was halfway scared out of his mind and halfway in awe, but entirely confused. Kibum could see a road that was fading together with the walls of buildings around him, and he guessed he was really losing his mind.
“They’re not real,” Kibum chanted to himself, taking a moment to close his eyes. The city around him faded but the cars around him continued. They seemed more solid this way, like if they became bolder, instead of the faded images he’d seen seconds before.
“Oh thank God, I can see again,” a voice said clearly.
At the sound of the voice, Kibum’s eyes shot open to look for the source. The voices were talking to him now?
“No, no, no!” rang out just as clear as a moment ago, but Kibum looked around and was sure that he was alone in the alley. “Focus on the road ahead of you! Not on the imaginary buildings,” the voice said calmly.
“The buildings aren’t imaginary,” Kibum replied dumbly. He wasn’t sure why he was arguing with the voices in his head, or if that legitimized the near hundreds of times he’d been called crazy.
“Whoa, who’s there?” The voice called out, panic evident in his tone now. “Where are the buildings? And what do you mean they’re not imaginary?”
“They’re in New York, obviously.” The reply came out before Kibum could stop it, and really, he decided that having a conversation with the voices in your head couldn’t be a sign of good mental health.
“Well how would I know that? They’re just brick buildings.” The voice argued. Wait, why was it arguing?
“Wait, what?” Kibum questioned, “Aren’t you in my head?”
“Um, I’m pretty sure I’m in my truck, and not in anyone’s head,” was spoken clear as day in Kibum’s ear. “But how do I get the buildings to go away? I’m just trying to drive home. Ugh, Minho stop talking to imaginary people already!”
“Who’s Minho?”
“I’m Minho, who are you?”
“I’m Kibum. Wait, why do you have a name?” Kibum asked the voice in his head.
“This isn’t God, right?”
“Um, no.”
“Okay, then look, I really can’t focus on you right now, nor answer your stupid questions. I’m trying to drive and these stupid brick buildings are fading in and out of my vision, so please, please allow me to be schizophrenic at a more convenient time!” The Minho voice shouted and let out a huff.
Kibum, however reluctant, considered the possibilities. The cars that were zooming past him seemed closer and more vivid when he focused on them and further away, almost like a distant backdrop for his immediate sight, when he focused on his surroundings. Maybe if he took a moment to gather himself he could pick one to flood his vision.
After taking several deep breaths, he put all of his energy into focusing on the details of the alley and all that it contained. It was a weird feeling, almost as if his mind was pushing away the sight of the cars, not unlike what he did in the cab earlier. As he allowed himself to feel control over what he was seeing, Kibum realized he could choose which image would surround him and which one would fade into the distance. The heavy breathing the voice had settled into also faded until he couldn’t hear it anymore.
What bothered, surprised, and bewildered Kibum was that this was similar his previous episodes. While the earlier ones hadn’t often come with images, mostly sounds and physical manifestations, he’d never been able to interact with the ‘thing’ on the other end. “What exactly is on the other end?” He questioned. “Can I call it forward just like I can shut it?”
Kibum allowed his mind to open again, searching for the nagging feeling of activity. When he found what he was looking for, the cars and road rushed back to his line of sight, still mixing together with the alley.
“No! No! NO! It was just gone, why are the buildings back?!” The voice called out, obviously frustrated.
Maybe I should help him Kibum thought before speaking up. “Um, hi, voice in my head?” He called out.
“What do you mean voice inside your head? You’re the voice inside my head!”
“Okay, we’ll get to logistics later. I gather that you’re driving.” Kibum replied, already seeing cars zoom past him until he pushed them to the distance. “Well, if you want the buildings to go away, try picturing them fading into the background.”
“I tried ignoring them, but it doesn’t work!” The voice called out. Minho, Kibum recalled.
“No, acknowledge that they are real, but allow them to fade as if they were far away and getting more faint.”
“Um, okay.”
“As they fade, focus more intently on your surroundings, like the sound of the road or your stereo and that should bring you back to your world.” Kibum instructed. “Take deep breaths, that should help as well.”
Kibum heard the deep inhales and exhales and could almost physically feel the other man relax. It was a weird sensation, almost like they were sharing more than their vision.
“I think it’s working,” Minho replied. “How’d you know what to do?”
“Well, its what I did to get the cars to go away on my end.”
“What do you mean on your end? Are you in a different dimension? You’re a real person? I thought I was just losing it.”
“Um, I don’t know what this dimension is called, so I don’t know what to tell you about that, though I think New York City would be recognizable regardless of where you’re from,” Kibum answered, puzzled. What if this Minho person was an alien on another planet that could sustain life? Maybe Kibum was going to be the-
“Ugh, of course a New Yorker would assume their own importance,” Minho groaned. “But at least you’re a real person, right?”
“Yeah,” Kibum choked out. Maybe this weird, impossible really, connection they had could explain away some of his crazy. “Oh! You’re speaking English! Where are you?”
“This is too weird,” Minho quipped before answering. “I’m in Houston, that’s in Texas.”
“Yes, I know where that is,” Kibum chuckled. He should have been offended at the tone this Minho was taking, but he couldn’t help but be amused. If he wasn’t wrong, he was sharing his senses with someone in Texas. What the fuck?
“So, this is pretty freaking strange. What did you say your name was?”
“Kibum.”
“Nice to meet you?” Minho replied, sounding unsure of how to greet the voice in his head.
“Nice to meet you too, Minho.”
After that understandably awkward introduction, Kibum kind of had a million and one questions for the other man. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely appropriate to bombard the other with questions though, partially because he was driving and because he was unsure if Minho was as accepting of the situation as he was.
Perhaps it was because sharing his mind or senses or whatever with Minho, however bizarre and inexplicable and impossible, was a better explanation than all the diagnoses Kibum had received that he was so readily accepting of it. That and since he had years of experience in controlling his episodes it didn’t seem like a huge deal to him.
“So, you’re a person.” Minho said, breaking the silence. Kibum chuckled rather relieved that Minho didn’t sound nearly as freaked out as he was before.
“Yep, I’m a real person,” Kibum replied.
“Oh my God,” Minho said, laughing to himself a bit. “Its like I’m talking to myself but you keep answering.”
“Do you want me not to?” Kibum asked, already thinking of ways to keep the connection closed if it was too much for Minho. He wouldn’t force the situation.
“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant, it’s just that it’s a little strange,” Minho explained. “It’s almost like talking on the phone except I can see things. I guess like video chatting?”
“Except we can turn off the video?” Kibum helped, and Minho chuckled.
“Yeah, something like that.” Minho answered laughing. “This doesn’t weird you out? Because you don’t sound nearly as weirded out as I feel.”
Kibum sighed before trying to piece together in words how he felt. “Its not that I don’t feel weird about it, it’s just that…” It was here that Kibum struggled, unsure of how much to reveal about himself. “Its just not, its not like this is the first time something like this happens. To me.”
“So you have this thing with other people? That must be super weird for you!” Kibum almost laughed. It was unexpected, but he felt like he could feel Minho’s concern across their connection. IT was especially strange because the concern couldn’t be faked, and for someone who was so freaked out before, he sounded genuinely interested.
“Not that I want to push you further, but I can’t help but think that your voice is familiar,” Kibum said instead of answering. He couldn’t be sure until Minho confirmed it, but maybe the shouting from earlier today had been Minho as well.
“You’ve heard me before?” Minho asked, a little bewildered. Or a lot.
“Um, yeah?” Kibum answered. “Did you scream something earlier about getting across a field?”
“Oh my God, I need to pull over.” Minho gasped.
“Before you do that, I have a proposition for you, okay?” Kibum asked.
“Okay.” It was spoken so softly that Kibum was sure what he was about to do was the right thing.
“Why don’t you take the night to think about this? I know its weird and kind of scary that we have this connection thing. I think that if we both try, then we can close it, or at least ignore it,” Kibum offered. “ I have a lot of work tonight anyway, so just think about things. Whether we explore this thing or put it behind us, it’s all up to you.”
“Um, okay,” Minho replied. “Can we talk tomorrow? I have court in the morning, but I should be more or less free after noon.”
Minho’s few words sparked a thousand more questions in Kibum, but he refrained from vocalizing them. “If you don’t mind, can we wait till around seven, my time? I’m pretty sure I’ll be swamped with work until them.”
“Sure, sure.” Minho agreed. “I’ll uh, call you?”
Kibum laughed aloud at the wording, knowing that everything would work out all right. “Okay, Minho. Have a safe drive home.”
“Bye Kibum.”
“Bye.” Kibum walked home in a daze, not sure about anything except that he had a lot of work to get done.
~
Minho had never driven so recklessly before, but he hauled ass to get home. Even though Kibum, who oh dear lord-was real, had said they should wait until tomorrow to talk, Minho didn’t want to risk another apparition in his vision while driving. Sure, he had been able to get it under control with the other man’s guidance, but still. This was really weird. He though about who he could share this with, to talk it over with so that he knew what decision to make, but he couldn’t make up his mind. His first thought was Jonghyun. After being best friends for years, he’d surely be obligated to hear Minho out without shipping him off to the nearest mental institution. Or maybe he could talk to his brother. But no, he couldn’t pull Minseok away from his family on a weeknight. His parents were out of the question, regardless of how good their relationship was. Most of his other friends would probably laugh him off, as if he were joking.
If he was honest with himself, the real reason why Minho wanted to talk this out with someone was because he didn’t know if he could make the decision by himself. On one hand, holy hell it freaked him the fuck out. Kibum had heard him before, and by the sound of it, this hadn’t started recently for the other man. That frightened Minho because it had been a long time since he had stopped trying to explain weird instances. He fought with himself on whether he should be sad or relieved that someone else was going through the same thing. After the incident while driving, Minho was also terrified. He wasn’t sure he wanted to put himself in a position to be vulnerable to things like that again. What if his senses weren’t his alone when he was driving with his niece and nephew? Or with his parents? What if Kibum’s life interrupted his own?
Yet, even with all these questions and negative thoughts running through his mind, Minho’s innate optimism and love of adventure wanted to prevail. This had to have happened for a reason.
Minho smiled to himself at the simple thought of Kibum’s voice as he unlocked his front door. Despite the anxiousness that accompanied the smile, Minho couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow had in store for him.
A/N: This is an interpretation on the In Your Eyes movie. Yep, that's it.