The looking glass speaks the truth without using words, but is it always objective? Each person descries the reflections in their own way and sometimes these aren’t so easy to face. They don’t show only the appearances, they may send you on a challenging journey down the memory lane. Imperfections hidden from sight, past mistakes that cannot be taken back anymore, white lies slowly falling to pieces — what does your muse see when they stand in front of a mirror? It’s what we would like you to explore!
You have until August 19th, midnight, EST to complete the task. It isn’t mandatory, but we sincerely encourage you to take part in it and give some more space for further character development! Remember to tag your posts with #247: task7.
The upcoming company banquet had turned into a ludicrously trivial concern when for the past days he was being relentlessly tormented by his father’s sudden willingness to strengthen the tenuous contact between them. His phone was being uninterruptedly bombarded with texts he cursorily skimmed and calls he had no intention to answer until now, in the middle of choosing a tuxedo for the nearing event he personally would be hosting. Jiyong preferred to think it was nothing but an impulse and not him pathetically raising a white flag.
Sizing up the tall mirror, his grim expression deepened more the second he grudgingly pressed the mobile to his ear. The shop assistant standing beside observed the abrupt change in the blink of an eye and falteringly recoiled, as if to avoid getting caught in the line of fire. After the grumbling he had already lavished the worker with, this defense reaction was wholly justified.
“Could you come to my office? It’s urgent and we should discuss it face to face,” the man’s enquiry soaked in deception resonated on the other side and he didn’t have to look him right in the eye to ferret out that there was an intrigue up his sleeve.
“No, I’m busy getting a dazzling outfit for your funeral,” his absent glare stayed zeroed in on the mirror before him and it took him a while to realize the ghastly quip rolled off his tongue. If it hadn’t been for the evidently frightened male who stood rooted and almost dropped the hangers he was tightly gripping on, Jiyong would’ve continued his bleak comedy. But it wasn’t the best place for emphasising hostile family relations. “I’m kidding,” glancing towards the store employee, he distinctly articulated the affirmation. A scandal wasn’t on his wishlist.
Stepping forward to have a closer view of the lavender velvet jacket, his attention slowly drifted away from the elder’s indignation. Tuning out the insults he began to madly spit was more gruelling than he expected, however. Unblinkingly staring at his reflection, it was impossible to brush off derision older Kwon was fluently speaking in. Echoing affronts started to sound like his own, like the ones he fed on those perilously lonely nights.
You think you have achieved something for once? Nonsense. You were always the bad apple. Escape that fool’s paradise. You are the same spoiled brat. Stop deluding yourself, you will never make me proud. No matter how hard you try. It’s too late for purifying your reputation.
Even after hanging up for everyone’s good, Jiyong remained in his shell he had been effectively pushed into. Incessantly riveting his vitreous eyes — which openly revealed his sleep deprivation — on the pristine mirror he was inches away from, he couldn’t see past his inward self-loathing. Buried insecurities would resurface each time he ended up analyzing his own self for a longer moment. Apprehensive thoughts and doubts were playing inside his head like a broken record and what he was currently sure of was that he didn’t need a striking reminder from his dear father in order to immerse himself in judgements and hatred hounding him on the regular.
You know you don’t deserve what you have. Sooner or later everyone will see through you. Your back will be left cold. Wallow in the glory you laid your filthy hands on while you still can. You fell from grace in the past, didn’t you?
“Bullshit,” Jiyong snarled in annoyance exclusively directed at himself, snapping out of the somber trance to return to the reality he blocked out. “Too bright.” Rapidly turning on his heel to avert his gaze from the cheval glass, he swiftly slipped off the jacket and briefly scanned the ones held by the assistant, whose nerves of steel must’ve been failing him at this point. “Gosh, bring me something that doesn’t look like duds straight from the flea market,” pulling his eyebrows together, a disapproving frown etched his features. “Who do you think I am?”
