as she sat there, her feeling in her chest seemed to only grow tighter. it was as if a boa was tightening itself around her and every breath was a struggle. she knew it was all in her head. there was nothing crushing her ribs. there was nothing threatening her. at least, nothing physical. it was just the color of the room she sat it. it was that awful shade of white that wasn’t quite white. there was yellow in it, but not enough to actually be a shade of yellow. she never wanted to figure out the name of the color that tormented her like this but in this moments she wanted nothing more than to fly from the room like a bird fleeing a storm.
nails dug deep into the arms of the chair she struggled to remain seated in. the secretary at the front desk continued typing away a few feet away from her, unaware of the struggle going on inside sangmi’s mind. god that color taunted her. hideously neutral; the kind of color you see in waiting rooms everywhere. that was the problem. it belonged to waiting rooms and there was only on waiting room that could have ever caused this kind of reaction.
before she could even begin to think back to the reason for her anxiety, it was him who showed in her minds eye. the kind face, those sharp eyes, the smile that had always made her heart skip a beat. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t right that she now had to be tortured by a stupid color just because of the waiting room he had forced her to sit in.
but he hadn’t forced her. not really. it wasn’t his fault. but she still remembered sitting there, grief untouched yet after that phone call telling her there had been an accident. it hadn’t processed yet that he was gone; the waiting room she had been left in by the doctors cold and empty, as if it too mourned the loss of his presence in the world. they had kept her waiting so long. murmuring outside the door to themselves, surely trying to come up with a way to tell her that he wasn’t coming back to her. that this wasn’t one of the dumb, gone too far jokes that he liked to pull.
it had felt like an eternity before a doctor with what she guessed he imagined was a very sympathetic face came in to tell her that he wasn’t waking up. they had tried everything but when his heart gave out, it wouldn’t come back.
afterwards, she had sat there for a long time just staring at those walls in that waiting room. her fingers twisting her wedding band back and forth on the digit it had resided on for the past few years. her husband was dead.
suddenly snapping from the memory, sangmi shot up and out of the chair. the secretary looking up at her with a quizzical expression. a muttered apology came from her breathless lips before she hurried out, not stopping for a moment until she was outside on the street, a few blocks away from the building she’d rushed out of. that yellowy white was going to be her death too one day. she could just feel it.
“you know, it’s not like i’m aiming for the “walk of shame” as the fuckboys call it, but somehow i’m always on my way home at 8am, trying my best to look like i wasn’t just leaving said fuckboy’s house after having hooked up with him and his brother. i mean i look cute as hell, but the whole awkward small talk as i’m leaving really kills the memories of the night before, you know?”
❝ ground rules before you leave then. tell them you want to remember them as they were the night before that they’ll ruin it if they talk. also the key to not looking like you’re doing the walk of shame is confidence. long strides. determined look. helps if you look like you’re on your way to something important. look at the time on your phone. shit like that makes people think that you’re heading out rather than trying to leave. ❞
——— 「 ☠ 」 blends of sunset b l e e d across the crisp pages of his anatomy textbook, glasses perched atop the bridge of his nose. his hand aches, along with his neck, but he finds himself unable to complain — he learned something, after all. with a quick huff, gunwoo finally decides to call it a day, dropping the various writing utensils in his grip before falling backwards against the wooden chair he planted himself on almost eight hours ago. ❝ i don’t want to go home yet … ❞ the words are spoken in an absentminded whisper and he, himself, is taken back, however the medical student decides to welcome the unusual behavior. well, attempt to welcome it, anyway. there’s a soft groan released into the air while gunwoo straightens himself again, arms outstretched to retrieve his mobile device hidden underneath the mound of work he’s done for the day. ❝ aha ! ❞ there’s a feeling of victory. it’s small and unimportant to some, but it’s different for him — most things are. with consideration, the pads of his thumb are set free to compose a string of texts.
( 💬 msg ➤ ?? ) : hey there ! … you’re not busy, right ?
( 💬 msg ➤ ?? ) : i don’t want to bother you
( 💬 msg ➤ ?? ) : if you aren’t busy tho, would you like to get together ?
( 💬 msg ➤ ?? ) : (๑⁍᷄౪⁍᷅๑)
if there was one thing she would never trade, it was the freedom to nap whenever she wanted and she was definitely making use of it today. with three videos already filmed and most of the editing done; this would be nap number three of the day. which was ridiculous, yeah. but there was nothing better than the warmth of a soft comforter and the ability to just drift in and out of the world. in fact, she would have gone on dozing in and out the rest of the day if it hadn’t been for the sound of her phone ringing somewhere beneath all the pillows that currently resided around her to form some sort of strange cocoon. after a few moments of rummaging around, a still bleary gaze focuses on the screen and thumbs begin to tap-tap-tap against the screen.
( msg! ) i have more time than i need right now.
( msg! ) give me like a half hour to not look like a gargoyle and i’m all for it.
a binge. it could not be described as anything but a binge. a violent, volatile, runaway binge. a high he never stopped craving, one that itched and stung until he was forced to find a plaster big enough to cover the gaping abrade. a high he was determined to ride out for as long as possible.
which explained his appearance. battered. bruised. bloodied. why wash away the remnants of what he was? with a metallic aftertaste tucked between swollen gums and an ache in his knuckles, he had absolutely no desire to cleanse himself of his sins. instead, he embraced them. savoured them. tucked them away with his favourite memories: because this was what he was made for, a weapon of mass destruction. between his mother and father he’d learnt that the person with the strongest upper hand comes out as victor, and that probably explained why one of the two were no longer around to voice their input on such a life lesson gained from sight alone. full of giddy adrenaline and the anxious fatigue, something that generally resulted from two nights filled up with anything but sleep - he carried on through the streets.
janghyun had fought twice tonight, though one look at him was testament enough to his claims. fresh bruises on both cheeks, sweat that clung beneath the fissures in his knuckles, and a guy’s thickly packed wallet firmly clutched between hands that had yet to lose their tremor. now he stands feeling less than the victor he aimed to be under the gentle glow of the lights illuminating the streets, head resting on the cold brick surface of the local laundromats, mentally debating whether he should just go home or try for a lucky strike of three. inquiring eyes boring into his torn up form immediately extract him from imprudent thoughts, eyes catching on their phone held within their hands.
( hyun’s elder brothers, between clutching on tail ends of darkened tresses, had always told him that they hated tattle tales, and so he remained silent during their tyrades. funny how the tables turn, now he’s the one who can’t afford for people to be loose with their words. )
❛ don’t even fucking think about it.
the distinct ❛ tac-tac-tac ❜ of heels seem to echo in the otherwise empty streets; a dead giveaway for a lady wandering around without much aim. one would think that someone like her ( always known as someone who looks like a pushover) would try to be more discrete but her thoughts never bother to linger on the dangers that exist in the world. they were too busy fighting against the usual thoughts that came late at night. when nothing else could keep them away. the weakest times and the times when she most just wanted to get up and start going in a direction and not turn back.
but she couldn’t do that. she wouldn’t do that. in the end, her stubborn nature is what always perseveres now a days. it refused to climb aboard the sinking ship that was her mood; leaving her instead to just listlessly go around, smokey eyes drifting from place to place as she moved, never quite lingering long enough to come into total focus. sangmi’s curse was still death. she remembered one night, just screaming and throwing things around her apartment; expletives slipping past raw lips at how cliche it was that her main source of sorrow had to be death. it was sickening to her how weak she could be.
which brought it all round to tonight. another episode, another walk. leading her up and down streets, moving past the familiar and unfamiliar - after all, everything looked different at night. she barely registered the ❛ vrrrr. vrrrr. pause. vrrrr vrrrr. ❜ that came from inside her pocket until it was on its last and final vibration. it was then that slim fingers slipped themselves around the phone, looking at the screen long enough to see it was yet another call from a concerned friend - had she skipped out on meeting up for dinner again? she must have.
it wasn’t until she was ready to shove the phone back out of sight again that she looked up and noticed him. even from where she stood she could tell he wasn’t in the best of shape and her lips parted a second before he spoke, wanting to ask if he was alright. but instead she paused, slightly taken back by the words before rallying her voice once more.
hey there, loves. the names wednesday and i’m excited to bring in my babe sangmi into this colorful mix. this smolbean is basically the surrogate mom to anyone younger than her that she meets and she will love you down if you let her. down below will be the usual tldr about her, but a profile and background are both up and available to be read. hit me up if you wanna plot!
tw: death, mentions of suicide, drinking
basically, the first thing to know is that sangmi is a widow. she was 100% in love and married but hubbie died in a training exercise in the military and since then she’s just been trying to get by.
makeup artist extraordinaire. you wanna look fab for some event? wanna scare someone with some fx makeup? or just want to have a makeover to make that ex realize what they let go? you come to her.
she spent a lot of time in america when she was younger and as a result actually has a small accent, but it mostly only comes out if she’s had a drink or two.
which leads into another fact: after hubbie’s death, she drank waaaaaay too much. but in the past year, she’s pretty much quit except for if its a few drinks with friends. but never let her have more than a few drinks, she gets weepy.
tried to kill herself a few months after she lost her husband because she couldn’t imagine a life without him.
got it back together after some help with friends. started a youtube channel about makeup to keep her busy.
makes most of her money with youtube and occasional professional makeup gigs. but has a large sum of money left from her father’s death as well as her husband’s.
she frequently tries to cover up the scars she still has from her suicide attempt and rarely talks about that time in her life except with one or two close friends who helped her at the time.
pretty sensitive, she’s the type to cry during even the smallest things in movies or if she gets overwhelmed when seeing cute things.
the type to literally help a friend with almost anything. has no problem lending money or time or things.
doesn’t think she’ll ever get over her husband, but allows herself to get set up on dates by her friends because she knows she needs to try and also because she likes to meet new people anyway.
gummygunk
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
stormborns
