{ ※ — surround yourself S&T
baskuiat:
“Pray tha’ real live forever mayne,” he mouthed, “Pray tha’ fakes get exposed.” An inner mantra as he avoided bumping into businessmen on their scattered way back to work. Lunch hour was at a close which meant it was time for Tommy to gather himself and eat his first meal of the day. It was ordinarily a slow chore for him given circumstances.
Indifferently, he stopped his hands-in-pockets stride in front of the restaurant which was only that by name with its two plastic tables inside. He took a step forward before noticing the meter tall poster by the front door: a girl group caught his interest. Removing one earbud, he stood immobile with a gapped-toothed grin, all seven idol girls baring their legs for the fried chicken chain. His favorite was the platinum blonde with the short hair and the sparkle eyes. She was foxy, not Megan Fox-y, but Tommy liked seeing her photo around the city. Raising his phone up to the image, he snapped a shot discreetly—so he thought.
“I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with her,” a small voice disrupted him, leaving him almost guilty with the sudden panic she caused. Culprit would be too heavy of a description for her for she bore innocent, auburn locks that cascaded across her shoulders and down her back. She, too, stood still, her pearly face waiting for a response. The most likely thing she was culpable for was being a student.
“I’m not obsessed,” he argued. “Do I even know you?”
Of course she would find him here. She knew of his schedule by now. Though irregular, as the occupation seemed to have no set timetable for the male, he was often met at the park situated around the Hongdae area. It was a bit far from where she lived and attended school, but she would go to great lengths, figuratively and literally, for this man. He was different from the rest. He was not her type, but at the same time, he was. He was older by a few but not overly implausible for a love line with the younger. Very well, she can’t afford to have her future husband in prison because of her— most definitely, or anywhere else they could be kept apart.
“What are you talking about?” Pushing her bottom lip forward, the aggressive remark faded into a petulant tone of annoyance. She was convinced he had looked back several times and smiled with his usual chic nod directed at who else but her. “We’ve seen each other like... a hundred times.” Eyes curved into shapes similar with her lips’ and dainty fingers came gently affectionate against his arms; just a leaf through contact as she’d believe they were only getting to know each other then despite her claim of an exaggerated amount of meetings.
“How can you forget me?” eyebrows arched in a scrutinizing manner, she insisted further. “I’m much prettier than that girl you’re taking a picture of.”