Chapter Text
one. | planes, trains, and a whole new world.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Jimin was sore.
After twelve hours on a plane, with very little time to stretch his legs, he couldn't think of anything he wanted more than to be back on the ground. The small screen on the seat in front of him, which he had been checking adamantly, informed him that they were roughly thirty minutes away from Paris.
When he boarded the plane, he was giddy with excitement; France was an entirely new chapter of his life that he couldn't wait to experience. However, as time marched on, he became slightly more doubtful each hour. He was leaving behind his family, friends, and entire life. Still, a small part of him felt guilty for being worried about it. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, after all.
"We are now beginning our descent, so the Captain asks that you please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts," a French stewardess said in perfect Korean before repeating the message in French.
Jimin heard the rustle of bags around him, people putting away laptops and the likes. The sound of people murmuring softly to each other in a variety of languages became more audible.
Jimin had taken French classes for years, as he had always appreciated the beauty of the language's phonetics. The way the words rolled off the tongue of native speakers so naturally was enticing to any listener — it was no wonder that he had fallen in love with the language at a young age.
As the plane began to dip beneath the cotton candy clouds, the extensive skyline of Paris became visible. Buildings that dotted the ground stretched until the horizon, and he could spot different ponds and rivers that broke up the monotony of the multicolored buildings.
"Wow," the voice next to him spoke, barely above a whisper. Jimin pulled his eyes away from the view and looked at the boy next to him, locking eyes with him. "It's so much prettier than I expected."
"It is," Jimin agreed. He then smiled shyly, remembering that he had yet to talk to the person sitting next to him. It was odd that they hadn't yet, considering the fact that they were from the same school and in the same year.
"So, where are you going?" the boy questioned.
"A village about 30 minutes away from Toulouse. How about you?"
"I'm going to Marseille now, but I was told that's where the family lives in the summer. A few days before the term starts, we're going to another city, but I don't know which one yet."
Jimin nodded, taking in what the boy had said. "That's cool!"
The boy beamed at him. "Yeah, I'm really excited. It means I get to see double the amount of France!"
Jimin immediately liked him. His enthusiasm was contagious, and he felt whatever worries he had earlier evaporating. As far as the boy's appearance, Jimin hadn't taken much time to look at him until now. His eyes were puffy, yet almond-shaped, somewhat concealed underneath a pair of round, metal-framed glasses perched on his button nose. His lips were supple yet not overly plump, and the dimples that revealed once he smiled were enticing. There was nothing about him to dislike.
"Do you know of anyone else who's in the exchange program?" Jimin asked after a moment.
The boy nodded. "There's 3 other students, two of them girls, and the last is a boy that I've only heard the name of once. I believe he's in our year, though."
"Cool," Jimin replied. The boy seemed to know a lot, and it definitely helped that his glasses gave him an intelligent look. How had he never noticed him?
The rest of their descent passed rather quickly, the trees and buildings becoming much larger as they neared the ground. Eventually, with a loud slam on the ground and the sound of tires screeching, their flight had landed.
"Wow," the voice came again. "It's even prettier up close!"
Jimin nodded in a silent agreement, but didn't respond. Paris was so different from Seoul in every way — the only similarity they shared was that they were both breathtaking.
"You may now use cellular phones, but please remain seated and buckled until we arrive at our gate. Thank you!" the stewardess announced, yet again in perfect Korean.
"I wonder how many languages she speaks," Jimin wondered aloud.
"Definitely more than me!" the boy replied, but in French. Jimin looked over at him, startled. When the boy spoke French, there was no hint of a Korean accent anywhere.
"You have very good French," Jimin responded, also in French. The boy shrugged and said something in a different language, which Jimin guessed was English. He had a limited knowledge of other dialects, and he had only barely passed his fluency tests to be eligible for the exchange program.
"Is it naive to hope that someone in my host family speaks Korean?" Jimin asked, switching back to his native language. The boy gave him a sympathetic smile.
"I'm not sure. The languages don't seem to overlap at all, and if anything, I'd expect them to speak English instead."
Jimin frowned slightly. What if he forgot some random word, like towel, and then he had to hope that they remembered to put one in his bathroom? He hoped it didn't come to that.
"I guess I'll be spending my train ride to Toulouse brushing up on vocabulary," Jimin mused.
"I might do that, too," the boy said. "I have a fear of everyone speaking at me in French and I suddenly forget every word I've ever learned."
Jimin thought the boy was joking, but a real look of concern had spread across his face. "You'll be fine," he reassured. "Besides, even if that happens somehow, you said yourself that they might know English, and it looks like you definitely speak it."
The boy broke into a grin. "Benefits of your older brother living in London."
"Wow, that's so cool!" Jimin exclaimed. "My brother doesn't do anything cool, unless you consider Fortnite cool, but I don't think anyone does."
They laughed just as they stopped at their gate. The 'fasten seatbelt' sign flickered off, and a harmonious melody of people unhinging the two metal clasps of their seatbelts filled the air.
Jimin stood up to stretch his legs, and he noticed that he had to bend over slightly to avoid hitting his head on the overhead bins. He was not considered tall at all, barely 5'8", but he was still fairly taller than many of his school friends back at home. The boy stood too, and Jimin noticed that he was taller than him by a fair amount. It only took a second before he smacked his head on the low-hanging bins.
"Aish, can't they make these things any higher up?" the boy said, rubbing the top of his head gently.
"Perks of being short," Jimin grinned.
They both chuckled, waiting for the people in the rows in front of them to remove their bags from the overhead compartments and exit so they could do the same. Eventually, when their turn came, both of them made sure they had all their belongings before walking down the aisle towards the exit.
When they finally entered the airport, Jimin couldn't help but stare in awe at everything. Even though they were in the international part, everything was in either French or English. Many tourists were crowded into shops, most likely collecting souvenirs for loved ones back home. The boy struck up a conversation with Jimin as they walked towards baggage claim, or as the signs all said, Réclamation de Bagages.
Once they had reached the carousels, their bags had shown up in no time, and Jimin realized it would be time for them to go to their different directions in a moment.
"Hey, can I have your phone number?" Jimin asked as they walked outside. "You know, in case I forget a simple word or something."
The boy smiled. "Yeah. Here, put your number in my phone, too." They typed their names and numbers into the phones and then handed them back to each other.
Kim Namjoon was the boy's name.
A taxi pulled up to the curb, and the driver nodded at Jimin, letting him know that he could take him. "It was nice meeting you, Namjoon!"
"It was nice meeting you, too, Jimin," Namjoon replied cheerily.
After the taxi driver helped Jimin load his luggage into the air-conditioned car, Jimin waved at Namjoon, who was also getting into a taxi.
Namjoon waved back, and they departed on their separate journeys, not realizing that their year would be much more similar than they knew.
:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧
After arriving at the train station, Jimin paid the taxi driver — after help with the foreign currency — and set off towards the ticket counter. He had taken plenty of trains in Korea, often going to different cities around the country to visit family or go on holiday, but this seemed oddly different. He approached the ticket counter and waited until it was his turn.
"Bonjour!" a blonde woman with striking features greeted him in French. "Can I help you?"
"Yes," Jimin responded, hoping his accent wasn't too obvious. "I'd like to buy a ticket to Toulouse."
The lady typed something on her keyboard, her long red acrylic nails clicking loudly on the keys with each letter she typed. "The next train is at 4," she told him. "Would you like that one?"
"Yes," Jimin told her, glancing at the clock behind her. It was 3:45; he would have to get there quickly.
After paying, he dragged his heavy bags behind him rather quickly, as he wasn't sure what he would do if he missed his train. The host family was expecting him around 8, and it would be awkward if he didn't show up.
Luckily for Jimin, he arrived at the train with moments to spare, and he hustled onto the vehicle. An attendant helped him load his bags onto a complex-looking metal rack, and he was free to find a seat.
Once he sat down on the plush blue fabric of a nearby seat, a wave of exhaustion washed over him like a tsunami. The seven-hour time difference between Paris and Seoul was starting to affect him, and he decided that napping was a better use of his train ride. It wasn't like reviewing French vocabulary could save him now — he had to rely on his years of relentless studying.
Jimin slipped on his headphones once again, this time tapping play on his favorite lo-fi playlist. He allowed the gentle beats and relaxing tunes to lull him to sleep.