PART 3: DEMIGHOST
"Ody?"
I looked up from my phone. An astoundingly handsome stranger was standing there, smiling at me.
"Uh, yes?"
"Hey." He waved cheekily. "It's Min-joon." Holy shit, I thought. That's Min-joon? "You know," he continued. "Bidisaster."
"No, y—yeah." I stuttered. "Of course it's you. Wow. Hi!"
He took the seat next to mine. "How are you?"
"Good. Tired, but good. You?"
Min-joon took a deep breath, exhaling like someone who'd been holding their breath for several weeks. "I'm great!" He replied, somewhat unconvincingly. "Also tired, but no major complaints."
There was a moment of silence as we took each other in, but—even back then—it didn't feel awkward. I don't know exactly what he was thinking, but my brain was struggling to connect this physical body to the virtual friend I knew so well. "Feels kind of wild, finally putting a face to the text."
"Yeah," he brushed his hair back out of his face. "Hopefully good though. It looked like I startled you for a second there."
"Oh, no. Not at all."
"What was this then?" He imitated my stunned face.