Hollow & Hallow Golden Hearts || Gongchan & Seohyun
To create a log of each personality arch type, action, object, and general happenstance that got underneath his skin might be impossible. He didn’t like anti-cat people, and he also didn’t care for street kids that attempt to convince him to play them at a game of Starcraft. Certainly such a list would constrict the world and suffocate each resident mercilessly. Then again, deep seeded rage was typically erased by bouts of apathy; nevertheless, the past few days had not been days of indifference. His scorn for wasted opportunity had controlled his footfalls, how he stalked the naïve heir of Midas and snatched each object she had accidently touched and therefore, transformed into gold.
Exquisite, expensive gold, the material humans would shatter their spines over and sacrifice than honor for. Tonight he sat in his side-show performance tent, wearing a pinstripe suit (Emporio Armani, no less) while lounging on one of her transmuted chairs from a previous performance. He could only try to ignore how uncomfortably rigid it was, and rested his hands on the reflective armrests. “But who would shape gold into a roll of toilet paper?” His current customer, an English tourist, asked whilst studding the eccentric ‘piece of modern art’ with wonder, and obvious suspicion, if her thoughts were enough to go by.
Seohyun, the princess of element 79 lacked vision, bless her soul, she had a mind of an angel but didn’t possess the butter to her bread – the cunning to make them all so rich that they’ll be able to legitimately purchase an island, turn it into a recognized country and build an amusement part on top of that for good measure. Such a waste, thankfully she had him to make ends meet.
“Really…I hope this is for real, imagine the reaction when I show Debbie that Yoshida’s money can buy even ridiculous sculptures like this. Gold! That will teach that racist whore to open her mouth..”
Gongchan tilted his head, the musings of the exploited circus misfit banished once he tapped into the consumer’s mind, a jolt of electricity springing from his neck when her thoughts rang within the amphitheater that was his skull. What a pleasant surprise, her ramblings finally arrived at the desire to peacock, and donning the smile of an honest salesman he reached into his briefcase and retrieved the paper to seal the deal.
“The artist longed to express the generation’s vanity and profligacy – here’s the certification of authenticity – but fell from grace due to a scandal of hypocrisy; cocaine addiction. Alas, the good die young, and this is one of the few pieces of his on the market.” He plucked a story from thin air, strumming her imagination like harp’s string, and handed her the bogus document, designed and forged himself. Victims didn’t care to check for legitimacy, they were simply satisfied by the thought of it. Consequently he spoke in circles and drowned them in fantasy, she was only lucky that she would be receiving real gold – and hey, half a million American dollars was a bargain for this amount. Everyone was happy, well, almost everyone, but you can’t make an omelet without stealing 24 karat gold toilet paper.