‘cause i’m gonna be free and i’m gonna be fine— maybe not tonight.
📅 a cool early evening in early march.
( tw !! violence, asphyxiation )
fuck what lucas says. fuck the fact that he’s always fucking right, that he has to always be fucking right when it feels like the world is collapsing in on her and she just needs ( wants ) someone to hold her hand and tell her everything’s going to be alright. it hadn’t meant to end in an argument, and perhaps it wouldn’t have if she’d have had a shred of maturity and patience about her, but after so many years, yeji’s fight for freedom clouds her judgement. what’s the point in being away from her father if she’s just going to do what everyone else tells her to do anyway? what’s the point in spending all those months planning only to throw it all away to listen to someone else who insists they know what’s best for her? what’s the point in anything anymore? can’t she just be happy?
she thought freedom meant she could have it all, but now it feels like she has nothing at all.
there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to admit it — that he’s right. at first, she’d wondered if it was just another step in a con, like her own. if she’s being played, wouldn’t she know? doesn’t she recognise her own game? but it’s lucas. it’s mid-afternoon naps in each others’ arms, it’s the terror in his eyes at the riots when she found out the truth and all the stupid texts she keeps him up with when she can’t sleep. without his speech, without the mind games, why would she ever trust anyone else? why would she trust someone she calls her family, yet she’s only seen on work, someone who she lures in prey for and exchanges regretful ( in her case, at least ) glances with across the room, over someone who has worn their heart entirely on their sleeve since the moment they saved her life? but it stings, because him being right means that she’s wrong.
corvus are her family. corvus took her in when he had nothing else, nothing but the money she stole from her father and no way to explain it. all she’s ever known is gangs; sneaking her hand into someone’s pocket or running amok in their bank accounts. now he’s asking her to give it all up? but not for him, for her. for her safety, for her youth and her future. she can’t have it all, despite what freedom had always promised her. the question he leaves her with is: is it worth it?
she’s curled up in a ball in her bedroom when it begins; the downward spiral into realising that nothing is as perfect as she’d convinced herself it was. her perfect family, her easy job, the boy of her dreams, even repairing her relationship with her sister... suddenly she can’t breathe and it doesn’t even matter because she’s alone. lucas wouldn’t want to see her, seulgi... she doesn’t know if she’s quite ready yet for that, and corvus... would they care? a week ago, she wouldn’t have hesitated, but now she couldn’t say. certain members, yes, she’s sure of it, but as a collective— as a group that’s supposed to welcome her with open arms, she thinks maybe they’d be crossed tight.
but it doesn’t have to be that way; not for all of them. surely, there’s people that will understand, friends she trusts to help guide her. when she meets shiah at the edge of the city that night, she doesn’t really know what she wants yet, not for certain.
when she leaves, what little is left of her knows there’s no other way.
“you want to what?”
yeji hesitates. “l-leave... you know, I’m so young and I’ve got so many years ahead of me and I’m not... I’m not exactly valuable, right?” her motive never passes her lips. even staring into the face of danger, she would never use him as a shield or a weapon. if they can’t be together, then he can at least be alive. “I bring in a little cash and that’s about it— I’ve only been here a year.”
she scoffs. “it’s not that easy, birdbrain. you think you just pack up and go whenever you fucking want?” yeji flinches, her heart racing.
“I thought you’d understand— I trusted you to at least try to understand where I’m coming fro—”
she never gets to finish her thought, nor any that come after it besides run; besides escape, get away, as far as your legs can carry you and it turns out it isn’t that far, but thankfully it doesn’t have to be. the bus stop is only twenty minutes away, fifteen at this pace. the driver doesn’t say anything, he’s probably used to it, and on the way home, she hovers over his number before scrolling a little further.
he doesn’t want to see you. don’t let him see that you’re too fucking stupid to handle this alone. you’ll only make things worse.
“h-hey, c-could you meet me at my a-apartment, please? o-or the bus stop down the road? outside the convenience store, yeah. n-no, it’s... I d-don’t feel g-good. I’m on the bus right now. yeah, I’ll stay on the p-phone, I promise. hey, seulgi? I... thank you.”
in the free fall, I will realise I’m better off when I hit the bottom.
📅 a bitter night in early march, a few days after her last tango.
( tw !! violence, blood, injury )
it’s bittersweet— the cold air that keeps her from overheating from the stress, but also the moment. she should’ve known this would happen, nails digging into her forearms and the moonlight shining on her like a spotlight. she should never have opened her mouth, but at least she would get what she wanted, even if not quite how.
she would be leaving corvus tonight, the question is in what state.
her knees scrape on the ground when she’s thrown down. she can barely see any of their faces but she knows there’s three of them. she supposes it doesn’t really matter who they are. what difference would it make if she knew? what would she do? she can’t con her way out of this; trying to manipulate anyone’s weaknesses will only make this harder on her. she waits for impact, but instead, she feels something wet land on her cheek.
“traitor scum.”
one of them slaps the arm of another. the former, the tallest, steps forward towards her, grabbing her by the chin. she clicks her tongue. “look how pathetic you look right now, magpie. you’re more the worm than the bird.” if she thinks that’s supposed to make yeji feel inferior, stupid, she is mistaken. it’s not her attempts to intimidate her that make her feel like a fool, but that she made the brash decisions that lead her here in the first place — that she let her pride get the better of her. if she hadn’t cussed lucas out, maybe she could’ve talked to him about this before she did anything. he would have warned her not to. she should know by now that stubbornly doing the opposite of what he kindly asks always ends with her in trouble. sadly, this time, he wouldn’t be here to save her. no wonder his scent seemed so strong on her hoodie that day. she hangs her head when the raven lets go.
“what are we going to do with her?”
the tallest hums softly, as if thinking. yeji already knows they wouldn’t come this far without a plan, but she’ll let them have their fun. the feeling of humiliation fits right into her being nowadays; it’s almost like she doesn’t know any different.
“if she wants to leave, she can — if she lives long enough.” the tallest looks like a regular thug with her hands pushed into her pockets and her head tilted to the side. yeji’s eyes fill with tears. “she won’t be going anywhere when I’m done with her. hey, birdbrain.” she looks up, meets her gaze with a wobbled lip. “if you can survive the night, consider yourself ‘free’ to live that ‘life’ you seem to think you’re entitled to.”
it’s probably minutes, probably barely ten, but it feels like hours. it’s the tick tock of harsh kicks to her stomach, the snap of her arm as they stomp down on her, the taste of blood on her tongue. it’s rhythmic, how her breath slows and hitches with each hit. her hair mattes with the blood and sweat on her forehead, the bitter breeze no longer doing anything for her body. if anything, it only makes things worse. even before she’s out, she can’t imagine making it through the night out here. she didn’t even dress warmly today. she didn’t even give herself a chance.
she doesn’t hear them leave; she’s already out by then. she doesn’t hear a voice call to her sometime later either, or the cacophony of worried calls after. she can’t taste the blood on her tongue anymore, and by morning, it’ll be gone from her face and neck, too, gently washed away by a damp cloth and a loving hand. she’ll wake to a blurry but familiar face hours, maybe even a day later, she doesn’t know. all she knows is it’s daylight and the sun is stinging her eyes and the room smells like smoke, like something has been forgotten on the stove.
“don’t move too much. let me help you.”
“s-seu—” she coughs and it feels like a lung is coming up with the air rushing into them.
“it’s me, don’t worry. you’re safe now. don’t push yourself. everything is going to be okay.”
she lives, as usual, in blissful unawareness of the chaos unfolding around her. the broadcast continues without her watchful eye, plays across the island and instils fear into civilians in every home and yet, yeji doesn’t even know anything is out of the ordinary as she adjusts her dress on her hips, the phone gripped in her slender fingers already working its magic on the bank account associated with the card details of the man she just spent the better part of ten minutes ‘impressing’. conversation is tiring when she isn’t so interested in it, but the reward is so sweet — it’s worth the suffering for such a fat paycheck and an excuse to wear this pretty ballgown.
hence, it’s later that night when she finally sees it all. texts from all over prompt her to check the news online, knowing well that she’s long missed the six o’clock broadcast on television. it doesn’t take long to realise something serious is wrong— not that the texts and calls hadn’t been a give away already, but she had hoped their reactions had been exaggerated, fuelled by the heat of the moment. plastered on the front page is a snapshot of the broadcast, the headline in such large font that yeji can’t draw her eyes away from it. it’s overwhelming, terrifying before she even clicks through to see what it’s about.
finally tearing away, she glances down at her phone, a few of the most recent texts still visible on her lock screen. stay inside tomorrow, they warn. did you see the news tonight? do you think it’s real? she hums. be safe.
she lets the screen fade back to black, turning back to her laptop with pursed lips. she can’t say she isn’t curious but there’s still a little happiness in being blissfully unaware. maybe if she doesn’t know what’s going on, she can’t worry so much about it.
it only takes a moment for her to realise how stupid that is.
she clicks.
she reads each word clearly, but only a few truthfully soak in. words like traitor and hydrus and caught— vocabulary that spells out trouble for not only those involved, but the rest of the island, too. she even notices the addition at the bottom, a warning that authorities expect the serpents to retaliate and yeji knows that isn’t too far-fetched a possibility. now their warnings make sense. now she knows why lucas and seulgi had insisted she stayed inside before saying anything else.
panicked, she closes the browser immediately, shuts down the lid and pushes the laptop to the other end of the sofa. drawing her knees into her chest, she heaves out a heavy breath she didn’t know she had been holding all this time. suddenly, even in the secure walls of her apartment, she doesn’t feel safe. she feels alone. but, hey, what’s new?
