#aoe:03

[elegentia-blog]

“April showers bring May flowers,       at least, that is what the caporegime used to tell me.”                                                                                              ―ofsecretsandlics

A moment of deafening silence lingered through the dense air as the twenty-two year old male sat with his back resting against the cool metal chair. He stared silently at the older officer questioning him; lips pursed into a thin line as if to withhold any of the secrets he knew they wanted to hear. Mark then let out condescending sneer. He was no snitch. He knew where his loyalties were… and it was most certainly not with the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency.

“Unless you have something to charge me with, why am I still here?” Mark inquired.

“Son, we believe that you have crucial information that would help us solve a case.”

A heavy sigh left his lips as his eyes narrowed in dangerously at the officer. As if he would share any of the precious information he stored in his mind vault. What could he possibly say to someone who was so blindly ignorant other than the truth? After all, there was no way he would ever dare betray the one family that never gave up on him. The Clovers was all he had.

“I have nothing more to say to you, officer. I want my lawyer,” he said, crossing his arms.

From the outside looking in, it is hard to understand the inner workings of his family. Yet, from the inside looking out, it is even harder to explain. So for him, a mere informant in the inner workings of something much bigger than he was, to even begin to comply with someone whose sole purpose is to break them down was unimaginable. He would say no more. Silence was key.

The officer agreed to have his lawyer contacted and as they waited, he continued to talk to him, hoping that he would say something in response to his words. Yet, despite this little rouse to get him to accidentally say something or to let something slip, Mark’s lips remained sealed.

“Anyway, so what is a foreigner like you doing in a place like Seoul, South Korea?”

This was slightly unexpected. Mark knew that his accent might as well have given him away, but his physical appearance ensured that he could just as easily blend in as another Asian male. It was really weird. To him it was strangely curious, but still odd. Still he made no effort in answering the officer as they stared at each other in this awkward silence. A few minutes later, a loud knock on the door interrupted their staring contest, and one of the many lawyers the Clovers hired as an associated pulled him out.

“Mark Tuan, you are free to go–” the older officer stated with restless sigh of defeat.

A smug expression crept onto his lips, and he decided to have the last word before leaving.

“And with that in mind, officer, is why I had to silence my voice. Catch ya later.”

[elegentia-blog]

“April showers bring May flowers,                   at least, that’s what my old self used to tell me.”                                                                                                               ―93dva

The words choked out of the female’s lips, reminiscing the times from the past that she could no longer be part of anymore. She endured the neglect by her parents because of her passion to be a pro gamer, to see herself on the stage among other players for the championship. Many times she left home to play the game her parents disapproved and cried about. Her hand reached out as if she was catching a tear drop she imagined of the nights she rebelled continuously.

Nevertheless, she did achieve her dream and even though she still didn’t keep in contact with her parents after she imagined them watching her as the cameras flew around her for three years. It wasn’t until a mistake she made that caused her whole life to turn upside-down. A request from the government, asking for her to recruit into military service because of her reflexes and battle tactics skills which was earned by her “Starcraft” championship winning streak. It was an opportunity to move forward, so she grabbed the seat they placed her name upon. Unknowing that later she was being trained to be used as a battlefield robot for offense purposes until four years later when she overheard one of the officers planning with the general.

When she heard of the orders being done behind doors, she made a getaway, now a fugitive, you may call her. It was a rough couple of months after successfully being out of radar of the army’s base but she managed to stay undercover, when they stated she is dead while escaping. Or that’s what her parents and about almost everyone else have been told, it’s why she couldn’t go back to anything previously, meaning danger to herself and anyone around her. To make money now though, she does errands if the price is right under the alias “D.Va” without anyone knowing who she was. Gender, name, appearance. What is known though, is that “D.Va” does most businesses during the night and can only be contacted through a certain email. The name is somewhat only important and circulars around the network of people who finds her useful to gather information or even items.

“Hana Song. The name given to me that I have to grasp onto…  It’s the last piece of myself,” her eyes fixed onto the camera across from her. “You took everything from me. My passion, my life and who I am. Now… I am D.Va,” the seriousness in her tone never shook but her gaze said otherwise, full of hurt and pain. Her hand reaches out towards the camera whose purpose was to keep the records of herself, once she is caught or even dead, for the officials who are tracking her.

“And that, officer, is why I had to murder Hana Song.”

[elegentia-blog]

“April showers bring May flowers,              at least, that’s what my Sungwoo used to tell me.”                                                                                                    ―high-in-flight

she began with a sparkle in her eyes. It was always like this when he was mentioned. Sungwoo. Even just the name rolled of her tongue and fell into her hands giving her something to hold onto. Her hands clenched and her smile grew. “See, he was always the type of person to be like that,” she told nodding softly before she sighed out. “Colorful and fun, but cheesy and classic,” Yerin told laughing a soft chuckle as she shifted in the metal stool crossing her arms over each other as to warm them. It was getting so cold in here. She glanced down to see the goosebumps rise on her skin. “I think the phrase in American or English, or whatever,” she began waving dismissively as to signal her lack of knowledge of the origin was not important. “He was a Seattle born boy, so he was always lost in translation, but this one I could easily understand after he explained it once,” Yerin told with a proud smile. Proud she was.

“When he died, it was like all the color in this vivid world vanished,” she told as tears rimmed her eyes and she unclenched her hand. “He was my radiance and my air, and until he was gone I didn’t know I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t and living sucked with my reason to smile right beside me,” she told wiping her eyes as the tears rolled out. “I never thought that I would be one of those girls either. I never thought love would happen, but I also never thought it would destroy me like this,” Yerin told before giving another chuckle and an upward glance to the officer across the table from her. “It is so sad that the people we love the most are the ones that hurt us like this, isn’t it?” she questioned him, but more herself as she shook her head. “That is so something, he would say. Damn, why have I become such a product of him? I want the girl who didn’t know versus the insufferable girl who can’t find a joy without a boy who she never even kissed,” Yerin told shaking her head again before she moved to bang her head against the table, but she stopped. The medicine they had given her had made her doubt herself enough to stay alive, well, at least for now. “I can never get back my innocence because a part of him will always be with me. As sick and as sad as that is, it is the truth, and that, officer, is why I had to murder myself.”

[elegentia-blog]

“April showers bring May flowers,                  at least, that’s what my teacher used to tell me.”                                                                                       ―streetxofxcrocodiles

Jaehee shifted in his seat. The sound of a ticking clock echoed in the distance, faintly. Shy eyes were far too scared to glance to the psychiatrist as though they were not ready to acknowledge his existence yet. Jaehee was asked to tell his story. Again. He’d been through that process before, had told his story over and over again – this time however, a person listening was someone actually apt to scratch meaning of the tiny bits.

“I don’t know when it all began.” The words slipped past his lips and hung emptily in the air. The memories of his youth were still vivid. They pulled and tugged at his clothing every time he shut his eyes and left him shiver of fear at night – scared of getting caught. When exactly did it all began? All nights spent cursing the corrupt were in vain. He had become one of them.

“I’ve always wanted to be a good person”, Jaehee continued. His eyes were fixed to the two hands that he never would have believed were capable of committing a crime. “I never meant to harm anybody.” His voice was shaking as though it feared the weight it had to carry, the meaning it held. “You see, that saying, I never understood what it meant. I’m afraid I’ve found my own take of it now.”

For a brief, insignificant moment, he glanced up to the person sitting in the corner, a dark haired man in a white coat who wrote down notes on a little pad. Something about the scratching of the pen made the boy very uneasy.

“It’s like in Physics. I’m sure you are familiar with Physics, am I right, sir?” His hand moved to his words. Scared, he was scared and nervous. “So, in physics. There is this law, you know. One action always has a reaction. If we were in a vacuum and nothing would stop this process, it’d mean that it could go on forever. An endless dance of swinging balls and clicking noises. Because one action always causes a reaction.”

With each word rolling off his tongue and thickening the air around him, he felt his breathing slowly, but gradually become heavier and heavier until he had started panting and could not continue his explanation.

“I know what I did was wrong. I have made private things public, but —- You don’t understand. These people are vicious monsters! They don’t care about anything, they are careless people! That’s what they are.. And their carelessness was far more monstreous than anything I have ever done!” Jaehee was moved. His memories started to push him, until he stood up from his seat like a mad man. It was nothing like his usually quiet, reserved and shy nature.

“They got their punishment. I hope they all rot in hell.” And with that, he sat down again, his chest moved quickly up and down. “If I had a million lives, I’d do it again in all of them.”

“But who’d listen to someone like me?” Wistful eyes looked up to the officer who sat just across of him, an empty, black table parted the two. Just like in any other moment of his life, Jaehee felt tiny and insignificant. “I’m a nobody… So I created the devil, ‘El Diablo’. Everyone’s shaking because of that name now! No one dares to make a mistake anymore. Even the world is afraid I reveal how corrupt it is!”

Jaehee swallowed thickly. His words echoed from all sides and shot right back to him.

“And that, officer, is why I had to murder my old self.”

[elegentia-blog]

“April showers bring May flowers,                   at least, that’s what my mother used to tell me.”                                                                                                             ―emchoi

M says to the stranger sat in front of him. Okay, so maybe showers was an understatement. The streets are already flooding and a large group of people have sought shelter in a cafe. All the tables are full, so M is forced to sit with a bunch of strangers. They all sit with steaming cups of coffee on the table in front of them while staff members try desperately to stop the water from seeping under the door. Those around him let out that awkward laughter when you don’t know what to say in return and the zombie falls silent again. Everyone’s eyes are on the window, waiting for the rain to let up so they can continue with their day. M stares down at his shoes. It’s been a while since he’s eaten and the new hunger is set deep within his bones. His movements are slower than usual and the scent of flesh is ever more appealing. M doesn’t like this life. He doesn’t like having to hurt people, but he doesn’t want to die. Well, fully die. Sure, this life may be limited and difficult but it’s still a life and he’s not ready to give it up just yet. He catches sight of his reflection in the window, his skin is less pale than it should be. The blue tint to his lips is gone and the veins are less prominent. He wonders if he’s becoming human. What a nice thought that is. He cannot simply become human again. If he could, he would have figured it out a lot sooner than this.

M doesn’t know how long they’ve been sat around for when there’s a sigh of relief and the sound of chairs scraping across the floor. He looks up to see the sun peaking through the clouds – the rain has stopped. Everyone is filing out of the cafe and M is the last one out, left foot dragging forever more though the puddles left by the sudden downpour. His plan is to head to the darker parts of town, pick off a few strays. Through the streets he trails, hood pulled up to conceal his face. Something seems… off about the entire situation he’s in but he can’t quite put his finger on it. Not yet, anyway.

It’s darkened considerably since M set out but that’s okay, he can get by just fine. Better, even. He keeps to the shadows and he finally inhales the sweet smell of flesh again and the sight of a male on the other side of the street finally catches his eye. He follows the stranger until they’re in a quite area, surrounded by darkness. The zombie is almost done feeding when someone else walks around the corner. And a cop at that. Shit. The gun is out almost immedietly and M just stays where he is, unmoving and unblinking. There’s still a small strip of skin hanging from his mouth as he’s asked why he attacked and killed a man.

And that’s when it clicked. This isn’t real. “It’s a dream!” He calls out to the cop.

How had he not figured it out earlier? His mother had never said those words to him – well, she may have done but M doesn’t remember his mother, doesn’t remember anything before he was raised from the dead. Second of all, M can’t speak! How would he have recited his mothers words to begin with? And lastly, he doesn’t kill people. He only eats the brains of small forest animals.

For some reason, M explains the events of the day and how he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t real. Just before he wakes up from a dream he shouldn’t even be having, he hears himself say, “And that, officer, is why I had to murder my good friend, here.”

[elegentia-blog]

“April showers bring May flowers,                          at least, that’s what my mother used to say.”                                                                                                              ―cvnoia

She told me a lot of things other than that, such as the fact that I was a superb singer and dancer. She has been saying that ever since I could talk and walk. When I was in the hospital after being attacked by my father, she even told me the reason why my father - whose voice could lift even the gloomiest spirits up - had changed so suddenly - schizophrenia. Schizophrenia. It was a word too complicated for ten-year-old me to understand, which is why I didn’t, no, couldn’t accept the fact that that was the reason why my father had turned into a delirious monster. Of course, I asked my mother for other explanations, but for some reason, she couldn’t.

Besides that, there is one more thing that my mother didn’t tell me: why she had to leave all of a sudden. On the day of her departure, all she gave me was an envelope stuffed with money and a short note. Before she turned around to head to the door, I grabbed the hem of her sleeve and asked for more information, but when I saw the grim expression on my mother’s face get darker, then I knew: this wasn’t the time to ask questions. For the next few weeks, in order to suppress the constant anxiety that came from my mother’s absence, I naively relied on the short note that she left, that she would be back in a couple of months - which was why I refused to believe the phone call that came from the hospital.

I almost hung up the first time, when the phone call came from the hospital, informing that my mother had passed away from childbirth and had left behind Eunha. I simply couldn’t believe it, especially because I had been so adamant in my belief that mother would come back.

I was still a bit dazed on the way home. I finally realized that I was truly alone when I opened the door to my apartment that day. Instead of being greeted by my mother, I was welcomed by a deafening silence. Not only that, I realized that I was in charge of not only my life but also Eunha’s, when Eunha started crying. I started to panic, not knowing what to do. In the end, I had to make another trip to the hospital, because Eunha had cried too much.

Throughout the years, I am proud to say that I have gotten a hang of raising Eunha, but still I have a long way to go. Not only that, I also learned the hard way that the world wasn’t nice at all. I had been completely blind to this fact because I had believed every word that my parents had said.

I’m no longer mommy’s and daddy’s girl anymore. I am an adult who’s in charge of a family, though it maybe small. Some say that I have grown up too fast, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

And that , officer is why I had to murder my innocence.

[elegentia-blog]

“April showers bring May flowers,       at least, that’s what my shitty roomie back when I used        to live in a small attic forgotten by god used to tell me.”                                                                                                              ―ibsuga

I still don’t know if that sentence was just one of his crazy ramblings caused by that one bottle of expired beer he chugged off that one night or if it was an original way of his to tell me to wait because it’s time what makes the dreams come true alongside the effort –and in all honesty, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to disrupt the magic, I want to bring this memory with me until the end of time.

Nonetheless.

The life of a blooming rapper ain’t easy at all, and I knew that. I knew every singe side of it because I was living within it, you don’t need to google when you’re dealing with that reality whenever you couldn’t sleep because of that one bill unpaid. Yeah, sure, I could have returned to my house immediately, crawling on the floor while probably all my family would laugh at me for even trying to fight a system I was attacking not only with my words, but with my actions of not wanting to become another tired man moving from house to the office, with a wife and kids and anything inbetween.

But that’s still something I don’t want –hell, I’d rather die than have such a monotonous life sucking my soul out of me.

But you see, sir, I had a goal, back then. I still have one, tons maybe, but –that goal, that almost-dream, the excitement of that very first spark, that determination behind those strings forcing my body to inglorious nights and even worse mornings… I had to follow it. I had to, I still have to, it’s… it’s like a vocation, but way more profane, especially if it involves occasional swear words and a mixer bought on ebay during sales. I just was born for all of it. I was born for rap, for the stage, for the dissing and the gaping mouths of an audience listening my reply and seeing how I had the damn guts to reply and their fanchants only boasting me and my ego to no end. People can say it’s stupid, but in the end, there’s a whole lot of people thinking watching videos about dancing douches in an American shore is highly entertaining so I just learnt I need to focus on my goal and ignore them all.

So, when I saw the whole Big Hit thing –yeah, you know, the streetcast for rappers set like a cypher match–, I remembered of what my shitty roommate used to say. I thought, ‘why the hell not, it’s your chance to be heard, Yoongi, it’s your chance to stop being a shadow of what you’re meant to be’, and like a child waiting for Christmas or allowances, I waited for that day to arrive.

Birds chirp, flowers bloom, that day arrived and it was like any other day apparently, perfect for playing catch with other kids while enjoying the shiny sun and Daegu’s good ol’ smog, but not for me –for kids like me, that day was the day in which the door of infinite opportunities would open and show me the damn throne I was destined to fill with my arse. Or the day I would have ended up starving in front of it and even die. It was Big Hit, after all, not some kind of scam going around and pretending to streetcast people just to squeeze them dry. »

The man known as Min Suga finally paused his spiel, a smile on his lips while his entire figure screamed the nonchalance of a perpetrator. There’s a line of red under the eyes of the rapper –eyebags, lack of sleep, the physical evidences of a sacrifice he has been doing for that throne he oh-so much-wanted.

He’s still young, dark and wild in that recording, Min Suga –tiny series of numbers belonging to the past bleeping lazily at the bottom-left corner of the screen, occasional white noise filling the silence before those pale, sugary lips finally parted once more.

« “And that, officer, is why I had to murder the stage with my lyrics that day.” »

[elegentia-blog]

“April showers bring May flowers,                        at least, that’s what cartoons used to tell me.”                                                                                                              ―prkhyn

"But that’s not true in this case, is it?” The man stares down at the table as his voice reaches the officer’s ears at just above a whisper. If it wasn’t for the complete silence in the interrogation room, it would have been easily missed. With his crimes already being recounted through the day on all the major news networks, it’s only a matter of time before the tape is circulated and the last thing the department wanted was to be the one to botch the entire thing. “What do you want me to tell you? That I killed him?” There was a pause before the law enforcement official confirmed the question with an equally quiet voice. The man scoffed, his eyes moving to the silver around his wrists as if he was suddenly intrigued by the cuffs, as opposed to the surface his hands rested on. “Well I didn’t.”

A tense sigh came from the official on the other side of the table and Cheng’s gaze landed on him briefly. “This will all be much easier if you cooperate. We might even be able to lessen your sentence a little if you enter a plea deal. Not by much, but we’ll see what we can work out.”

“No.”

“Son, you need to think about–”

He was interrupted as Cheng abruptly stood and brought his fists down upon the aluminum table with a force that startled everyone in the room; no one expected the soft-spoken parking lot attendant from Busan to lash out when up until now he had put up no resistance to being brought in. “I am not your goddamn son,” he practically growled through clenched teeth, shoulders raised and his stare unwavering despite the immediate pain making its way up the sides of his hands. There was a surge of rage that felt nearly real and for a moment, he saw genuine surprise in the other’s eyes. “You don’t want to be my father, officer.” There was a second scoff at the back of his tongue but when it came forward, the man found himself chuckling under his breath. “I didn’t kill him. The asshole who killed my best friend and all those other people is still running around out there. But my father?”

Cheng’s head tilted back a little as he placed his palms flat against the cold tabletop, a sigh so satisfied leaving his lips that it nearly sounded like a groan filling the air. “That was me.” Stunned silence surrounded the both of them, with the interrogator in blue looking a good amount less sure of himself than he appeared minutes ago. “.. And I loved it. Why wouldn’t I take credit for those other people too?” He slowly sat down and his gaze was once more downcast as tried to rub away the soreness on the sides of his palms. “First you waste my time. Second, you let my friend’s killer roam free and hold me here instead.. Third, you suddenly want to be my father.” His voice soft, it seemed as if he was almost scolding the other man like a young child who had done wrong and was barely getting a grasp on the household rules. “You’re useless.”

Dark irises rose to meet the officer’s and Cheng’s words were replaced by the rhythmic ticking of a clock: even the camera men and the directors surrounding them seemed to be holding their breath for the line that would come to make Hyunwoo famous.

“And that, officer, is why I’ll have to murder you next.”