hi all, this is clover back with probably the most fleshed out muse i've ever had fr... !!! this is kwon sera, one of the country's biggest pop stars at the moment who suffered an immense loss when she lost two of her previous groupmates to a car accident in 2017 only two months after their debut. the ending ost singer for the mask of all hearts, sera's label didn't want her associated with the movie, but her heart was set on writing a song as a tribute to her past members. now on the reunion, the curse has her struggling with her survivor's guilt all over again almost a decade later :'( you can view her public profile + private profiles as well as some plots i'd love to fill for her as well (mobile nav) β‘ if you're interested in plotting please hit the heart button and i will msg u asap, ty β‘
"i got them." he offers one of the keys to them. "two rooms weren't that expensive at all." he smiles slightly. it's a small win, but in light of recent things, he's just grateful there was room for them at all. "i'm sure we'll be right next to each other. second floor, i think." he looks down at the 226 engraved on his own key and thinks, birthday numbers. what a coincidence. "are you ready to go?"
sera is holding her breath now, because maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.
everything was becoming too much too quickly β first it was the investigators prying into too many details that sera had no involvement in, the thick of the air that loomed over her stuffy hotel room when it became clear that guests would no longer be advised to be outside after dark. and then came the gradual but evident loss of her cell signal, unable to get in contact with her manager or jinyoung and sending her into a constant state of mild panic. she couldn't keep going to kiyong for cigarettes, and no way would she put herself in any form of pr suicide by risking buying them at the convenience store herself.Β
she was beginning to feel like a shut in with how much she was staying close to the overlook, occasionally growing restless enough to visit sunhee in her room only to grow discontent with their circumstances again and inability to go stargazing β arguably one of the biggest draws to even coming to the reunion in the first place after learning how little light pollution jinhae had β only to retreat to her room again, drowning in a whirlpool of thoughts and assumptions about the investigation.
there was a lot sera didn't know about taejun. it's especially true when he doesn't even look sure about their predicament, her own eyebrows mirroring his own look of hesitancy through the window as he converses with the motel receptionist and turns to look at her like a child who needs his mother's permission. her mind wanders to just how this all probably looks to the receptionist and begins to hate her, because shit, are there cameras in here too? eventually when this gets edited and cut down by the show's editors, will it all make for another perfect storm of rumors for sera to be involved in,Β again? can she ever just exist inΒ peace?
her fingers tighten around her luggage handle when taejun finally makes his way back out the exit, almost like she's bracing to hear bad news. her shoulders, unknowingly tense, relax when taejun hands her a set of keys. a twinge of guilt floods her for feeling so tense, especially when he's smiling at her and it's probably the closest thing to positivity she's seen in the past few days. "i can pay you back," she offers out of courtesy. her eyes fall to the numbers engraved, bearing no meaning to her in the slightest, and back up to meet his gaze, still unable to get any decent read on him.Β
she lets him lead the way, idling quietly behind him until they reach the end of the second floor hallway. she's about to insert her key to her room, but stops. her mind begins to flood with thoughts of hermiting herself in once again and the redundancy of coming here to get away from the overlook, only repeat her insanity in between four different walls. "hey," she calls to him gently, beginning to show signs of growing unease in how she fidgets with one of her bracelets. "were you planning to just β i don't know, chill by yourself? did you want to... hang out or something?" her words hang awkwardly in the hallway air, uncharacteristic of the girl who always knew the right things to say β for a moment, she wishes she could take them back.
@1nfernoh
βYou want a smoke?β He asks mid-nod down to her empty pack. It feels like deja-vu, but it isnβt, because heβs pretty sure this actually happened. Back on set, during the movie's filming, the air a little too humid with a palm that stung like a hornet had made a good time of it. Heβd lent her a cigarette then, and theyβd smoked them half-hidden out back, behind some set piece, maybe. Itβs when Kiyong tries to picture things properly that they become blurry and stretched and wrong. It makes it hard to come up with the details of the moment, all that he knows for sure is that it happened. That she was frowning at him then like she is now. He shakes out a couple, only one left tucked in the half-crushed box of it. They get jammed back down into the pocket of his jeans after Sera takes one. Kiyong eyes the bench as he lights up, but he doesnβt sit, just rocks back on his heels and exhales out toward the sky. Against that thick gray and nobody can tell Kiyongβs polluting it. βSo, is there a reason for the worldβs worst escape plan?β
it's picturesque, his silhouette looming over her hunched frame against a backdrop of the open ocean. how it's only a short boat ride to the island from the mainland, but looking out from this side of the shore, the horizon stretches and blends until sky and sea become one β sera wonders what it's like to feel that sense of wholeness. the sea never wishes it was the sky, and vice versa β the two live in complete symbiosis with the other with no comparisons, no judgments, no what ifs.
it must be nice, she thinks, to just be.
for how vast the ocean is, sera wonders if heesung's body is somewhere in it. if his spine splintered in half the moment it hit the surface of the water. the equivalent of hitting concrete, she'd heard somewhere. it's a cloudless day with a sun that only knows how to glisten in the reflection of the water, a stark contrast to the current mental state on the island. she only hopes that he didn't feel it when β
he's got cigarettes. sera had registered that kiyong had made his way down the dock to her isolated little bench at some point, finding some opportunities to inject humor into a conversation β and woman, that were in desperate need of it. she hums as some sort of half-assed response to his comments, eyes drifting back from the expanse of the sea in front of them down to his kind offering before her. sera looks up at him, a gust of wind ruffling their hair in unison before she reaches quickly to try and comb it back down into something much more put together.
she carefully avoids his gaze then, reaching a manicured pointer finger and thumb delicately into the box to pluck out a single stick. even when she's not having to perform, the pressure remains. the year before felt vague, especially around the times sera would visit the movie set β but she remembers kiyong enough to know this isn't the first time these two have found themselves in these circumstances where it's him doing the offering and her doing all the taking. never the opposite, because sera could never be caught returning the favor, never. but even with the lack of conversation from their prior engagements back in the alleyway where he clearly kept to his word about not telling anyone about her dirty little secret, she'd experienced for the first time what it felt like to not be judged, to not be treated differently for who she was. sera wasn't even sure if kiyong knew who she was prior to filming β and something about that felt freeing.
there would be no explanations, no fake smiles or pleasantries she had to exchange with him. for once, even for just a few short minutes each time, sera could sit in the silence between them and let herself be.
"thanks," she mumbles, just loud enough for kiyong to hear but not loud enough for the ocean and sky to hear it, too. she wheels her luggage out of the way, gesturing for him to sit β although she worries what this could look like if there really were cameras around. "just... it's been a lot to handle." she leans towards the lighter still in his hand, two curved fingers around the stem of her unlit cigarette to prompt him. once it's lit, she takes a deep breath and turns her head to blow it away from him, leg bobbing. "i've barely had any cell service. i haven't been able to get in contact with my manager for days."
the road below is silent, stretched too long like a rubber band about to snap. no sound but the whirring of her own breath. her chest rises too fast. sheβs been here before.
everything plays like a movie scene β headlights smeared across the night like brushstrokes, the van sliding too fast over a road that hums with the wrong kind of silence. everything is so fast and slow at once, so jarring that sera feels her heart begin to beat in reverse. the vanβs tires scream against the asphalt, a desperate attempt to halt the inevitable. but time wonβt slow, wonβt bend to the desperation. itβs too fast, too slow, as if the universe itself is hesitating, unsure of its own conclusion.
the sound of metal crunches, loud enought to tear the night apart, and the midnight air hits her just as hard. she braces for impact, for the world to shudder β but there's nothing, absolutely nothing, and it's a painful reminder for her of just how lonely the world truly is, even in your dying moments.
and then there's rain puddles she's stumbling through to make her way down to the accident. her feet slip through them, dragging against the waterlogged earth as though the very ground itself is trying to slow her down, keep her from approaching. "i'm sorry," she already begins whispering to herself as the image of the wreckage under the overpass begins painting itself more clearly in her approach.
"i'm sorry," the words spill from her mouth and loses all the feeling in her legs upon seeing the vehicle in its contorted state, flipped on its side and windows on all sides completely smashed through. she feels small, small like the seventeen year old girl who didn't deserve for any of this to happen. an agonizing hole begins to form in the pit of her stomach before a metallic aftertaste forms on the back of her tongue and the need to vomit hits her at once. "i'm sor β" she manages before dry heaving, guilt-stricken pain flooding every cavity of her chest; instead of vomit comes a thick, clear mucus that when sera finally is able to blink away the tears that prick at the corners of her eyes, has encapsulated a single white feather.
she stares down at it like she knows that this isn't how things are supposed to go. she's supposed to pass out from the adrenaline and trauma of witnessing the grotesque death of her two bandmates, bloodied in their seatbelts with nothing but the sound of sera's wailing to scream for help into the silent abyss. she stares at the feather, its delicate white strands a stark contrast against the mess of twisted metal and bloodstained pavement. the sight of it just feels so wrong and misplaced against the blackened pavement, like some sick joke. a symbol of light and purity to contrast blood and death.
mouthofthemountain.
sera looks up, the world around her turning to haze as the sight of something so magnificently horrifying looms over the wreckage; a light so bright that sera almost mistakes it for good, an entity that for once could've been on her side. she's got her arms crossed tightly against her chest. her clothes, so familiar and yet so alien now, cling to her body in ways they never used to. like a costume she canβt shed, no matter how hard she tries. her once-lean frame had been smaller, softer back then, and she was still a girl, naΓ―ve and young. now, the same outfit clings uncomfortably to her more mature curves, the seams strained and stretched. the fabric pulls uncomfortably over her breasts, a stark reminder of how her body has grown, how the years have changed her in ways she never wanted to acknowledge β reminds her of the fact that while she was given the privilege to age into womanhood, jaeri and mirong would forever remain in their teenage years. the blood staining has seeped even deeper through the fabric of her stage outfit that it sticks uncomfortably to her skin like it's trying to bring her back to this day, like it wants another chance to take her, too.
"i'm not going," she manages to tell it. silence follows her words, small and fragile, and thinks that maybe it would leave her alone, let her out of this nightmare.
suddenly, like the wind had actually been taken from her lungs, she can't find her breath. blistering heat wraps itself around her neck and squeezes and the light before her only gets brighter. sera chokes out as she tries to shake her head no once more, tries to close her eyes to shut away the encompassing light threatening to swallow her whole. a low, ragged breath escapes her lips, but the words sheβs trying to force through are silent, swallowed by the oppressive heat. her body shudders, and the suffocating grip around her neck tightens again.
the image of a man walking on a hill creeps into her mind, unsettling in its suddenness. he walks with a jerky, frantic pace, each step heavier than the last, like a man being dragged by an invisible force. his eyesβdead, devoid of any sparkβare lost to the horizon, and yet, he turns his head, twisting it unnaturally from side to side, as if listening to something only he can hear.
the frantic movements of his neckβjerking left and rightβsuggest some kind of inner turmoil, a desperate conversation, or perhaps a fight with himself. he murmurs words too faint for her to catch, but his frantic energy is unmistakable. his lips tremble with each passing moment, a silent plea for something only he understands. the woods around him become thick, almost suffocating, branches clawing at his skin as he presses on through the darkness.
she watches as he emerges from the thicket, now standing at the edge of a cliff, the sea below like an inkblot stretching endlessly beneath the moonlight. the moon, far too quiet, bathes the scene in a cold, indifferent light, casting long shadows over the man's silhouette. his gaze never wavers from the blackened water. the sea, once majestic, now looks foreboding, as if daring him to take the final step.
without hesitation, he moves forwardβslow, deliberate. his silhouette grows smaller in the dark. he walks off the edge like he didn't even realize what wasn't to come next, the earth crumbling beneath his feet. his form plummets into the abyss below, swallowed by the void, swallowed by silence.
"mouthofthβ"
she's awakened by the sound of her own gasp for air. it floods back into her system similar to a creature who hadn't had water for days. pulse racing and soaked in sweat, sera is brought back to the morning she'd awoken in her hospital bed to find out the fates of her groupmates; this time it feels even worse, because this time it feels like she'd survived something arguably even more terrifying than death itself. she reaches a hand up to her neck, hot to the touch.
RED LETTERS, BLACK SKY: AN OPEN STARTER
SERA TRIES TO LEAVE (BUT IS SOON HUMBLED)
in a moment of reflexive panic, a bad habit over the years she's grown to actively respond to rather than ignore, sera freaks out and leaves the hotel with her luggage in tow to walk herself to the train station.
march weather on the coastline isn't mild β remnants of winter still linger as the breeze whips at her hair and laps at her skin; jinhae proves itself to be a force not to be reckoned with. at this point, the unsettling news about heesung's disappearance has brought nothing but clearly distressed production crew members who spend their days anxiously chainsmoking around their trailers and standing uselessly with their arms crossed with looks of disdain at officer yu and her tiny search party. they act like she's the one that caused all of this, like it's her fault that some of the cameras have had to been taken offline to give room for the search crew to survey the surrounding area.
sera wonders if anyone watching will even bother to question where that mic operator ended up going β will they lie and say just up and left he left the show, just like she's planning to now? will they write him out of the script and call it a day?
will his body suddenly turn up on one of the cameras one day and shut this entire thing down?
she's not so sure she can handle the latter. sera still finds her thoughts wandering to those dark corners, the horrible scenarios that her imagination can conjure always fighting to be at the forefront of her mind. they slip in like snakes on water and seep their venom into every crevice that it can find to poison her decaying rationale. she had barely even managed to change out of her pajamas this morning when things were feeling like too much and threw everything back into her luggage. how nobody on production had noticed that she was leaving was beyond her β if nobody could see that sera was missing, then surely there would be no issues sweeping park heesung's disappearance under the rug.
OUT OF SERVICE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
the electronic marquee on both sides of the platform read in obnoxious, bright red text. the wind is even worse down here than it was at the hotel, only making sera even more frustrated that she'd packed away her hair ties. because the reality that she is now stuck in jinhae is slowly sinking in β a reality that considering the current circumstances is actually quite frighteneing β is not an easy pill to swallow with all of this wind ruining her hair and makeup. she looks nothing like her typical made up self, and although she thinks there's no way that the reunion production would've bothered putting cameras out here, there's something in her chest that still doesn't sit right, even this far away.
"god damn it," she exhales, shoulders falling as she stares up at the marquee, perplexed. an internal debate begins β does she go back to the hotel just to hole herself up in her room until all of this passes over? does she wait until some train service worker shows up so she can demand answers she already knows they won't have about when the trains will be up and running again, so she can get the fuck out of here?
sera takes a seat on a nearby bench, holding the collar of her dusted pink peacoat closed in a poor attempt to keep herself warm. she reaches into her coat pocket for the box of cigarettes she'd kept hidden inside and gives one subtle take over her shoulder. the cold had caused the skin to begin cracking on the surface of her hands, hands that try to keep the box as hidden in her lap as possible. a quick flip of the paper lid, and β of course β it's empty. "fuck," sera curses under her breath; kwon sera, smoking and cursing β a career-ending combination. in a mild fit of frustration and amplifying anxiety, she throws the empty box to the ground before the wind quickly picks it up and blows it down into the tracks. she feels her heart start drumming through her chest as reality settles itself miserably into her already lacking headspace. "fuck. fuck. fuck."
it's the only feeling sera can think of what heesung must've felt in his last moments β just how cold it would be in the woods, in the dark, alone. did he have a jacket with him? will they find him with an empty or full stomach? if something had gotten him, will they find his body dismembered, just like how after the impact, sera had shifted against the deployed airbag to see mirong's neck blue and twisted inhumanely still fastened into her seatbelt, her eyes wide and dead, staring back at sera ββ
she runs manicured nails through her hair nervously before making sure to close the curtains for the night. even though her hotel room view didn't face any rooms or anything in particular, there was an uneasy feeling about leaving them open after sunset. almost like if she did, she would somehow find herself pulled from the safe confines of her four walls and dragged into the woods to suffer a similar fate as heesung probably did.
no, stop thinking like that, she fights with herself, because she doesn't have anybody else she can really process this with. she hadn't known him at all outside of probably meeting (and forgetting) back when the film was still in production; when things weren't as weird. sera couldn't help but be pessimistic. death had already looked her in the face twice β who's to say this wasn't death paying her another visit, passing by her like a satellite that comes close enough for her to see and witness, teases her with how it looks, but never close enough that she becomes its own victim. it scares her, because it feels like it's just taunting her, laughing in her face as if to say maybe you'll be next β who knows? stay tuned to find out if the beloved kwon sera will be the next to go!
her bed feels a little more comforting. the sheets feel like a shield that'll protect her from all the monsters β though the emptiness and lack of another human being with her still leaves a heaviness that doesn't smooth out the wrinkles of her unease. she swipes to unlock her phone as she tucks her head underneath the sheets, illuminating a small sun of blue light against her face against the darkness of the room.
9:26 pm
sera: i miss you
sera: something happened last night and it's really had everyone on edge. one of the past crew members went missing and they're saying it'll probably be a body recovery effort at this point because they think he fell from a cliff
sera: i just can't stop thinking about it. there's been investigators talking to people all afternoon. their pr team has been trying to play it cool in front of everyone but i can tell they're freaking out
sera: it's highkey got me on edge and idk why i didn't even know him lol
9:32 pm
jinyoung: i miss you too - wow, that's really heavy
jinyoung: you mean they know he fell, or they think he fell? because those are two very different things
jinyoung: i get why you're on edge, though. that's a lot to process, even if you didn't know him
jinyoung: are you okay? you're safe, right?
jinyoung: do you want me to call? i'm here
9:33 pm
sera: yea i'm safe i'm in my hotel room hiding under my covers lmao
sera: and since we're right near the ocean i can't even imagine how cold it is outside late at night. they even told us to avoid the woods and not stay out after dark
sera: i just... can't help but feel pessimistic about it tho. i really hope he didn't feel anything when it happened
out of concern for sera's past tendencies to clam up and push out the rest of the world when she's feeling scared or triggered, jinyoung immediately facetimes sera to help slowly uproot her from her own catastrophic thinking. they talk for a little over an hour with jinyoung letting sera do most of the talking β once she's finally been able to relax herself into their conversation she fills him in about other things outside the reunion that she's still able to find headspace for, such as her actress friend recently going viral after almost slipping on the red carpet and how one of her backup dancers recently got engaged, something she'd just learned through instagram today. he does everything in his power to keep sera feeling safe and comfortable despite not being there for her in person. "make sure your door and the deadbolt are both locked," he reminds her before she quickly jumps out of bed with him still on call to confirm with him as a witness that yes, both locks are secure.
by the time sera is crawling back into her bed, much warmer now than it was before jinyoung had called, enough adrenaline has worn off that the exhaustion from her anxiety slowly creeps in and the fatigue settles comfortably into her muscles. she feels like she's run a marathon. "i think i can fall asleep now," sera murmurs into the receiver, her camera displaying only a black square now that sera has pulled the sheet off her head and her phone sits on her pillow beside her head, facing the dark ceiling. jinyoung smiles into the camera, happy she's been able to find some calm amongst her inner storm.
sera wishes him a good night as she begins to doze off, eyes fighting to stay open as she pokes at her screen tiredly before the call ends.
and then the silence immediately settles back in, and she squeezes her eyes shut as the fear and reality of her being alone in her hotel room in a strange and unfamiliar town flood her once more. she pulls the sheets back over her head and listens to the sound of her elevated heartbeat in her ears to try and put her to sleep.
