They first meet beneath flickering purple neon lights.
The android lies in top of the trash overflowing from a casino dumpster. His legs are mangled, and he doesn't have the power to crawl with his one good arm. He watches the moths strike the glass tubes and listens to the passing traffic and indistinct conversations on the nearby sidewalk. In the shadows, no one notices him.
Jimin is a hobbyist roboticist. Most nights, he's dumpster diving for parts. Tonight is going to be the luckiest night in his life.
He is very close to calling it a night and going home with the few usable circuits he'd picked up, but he spies a leg, another leg, and then a hand at the top of the pile.
The synthetic flesh is lifelike and soft, realistic down to the fine hairs and wrinkles.
Setting the loose limbs aside, he grabs the edge of the dumpster, plants his foot firmly against its metal face, and hauls himself to the top. It's so compact that he doesn't fall in at all, and he can crawl to the remains attached to the hand. The android is masculine, still wearing his casino staff uniform and nametag.
Jimin reads his name and smiles. "Hello, Seokjin..."
A warm sensation blossoms in the android's chest. Internal diagnostics can't comprehend the phenomenon while running on reserve power. He saves the report and does his best to help the human carry him out of the trash heap and away from the neon lights.