🌙 • • • It’s early in the morning and Cinder walks past a newspaper stand on her way to her job, as she does every day; and she doesn’t pay much attention to the headlines at all. Why would she? Unless it was some giant world ending disaster, she was more than content with being in her own bubble. This day, however, is a tad bit different than the rest. She catches a glimpse of a face she sees every day everywhere she turns - on televisions, on billboards, on magazines. It’s Zico, of course.
She doesn’t understand why people like that man so much. In her eyes, he’s nothing but an over zealous rich boy in the body of a grown man who often made crappy music and is praised for it as if he’s some type of king – a god. It truly is a phenomenon beyond her – what do they see in him? He’s not talentless, she’ll give him credit on that. He is a bit smarter than he lets on and has some sense of style proven by the way he dresses, which further proves his awareness of aesthetics. But the use of these two skills are extremely poor. To Cinder, everything he makes is mediocre at best. Why is he all over the news, charts, every single television channel and every piece of newspaper under the sun? The man seems like a joke to her even without him opening his mouth – but when he does, oh boy, it’s a different story. He has the vocabulary of a pompous dick and doesn’t restrain himself not once from using it. Everything that spews out of his mouth is a bunch of utter crap. Like he’s above everybody else. Who the hell does this guy think he is anyway?
Cinder remembers to stop for “World Finance”. It’s one of the things that gets her passion going, you know – the numbers. When life gets hectic and she gets consumed by stress of her work, the one thing that can bring her back to her true passions is just a quick peek at the statistics going on around the world, what the stock market is looking like, etcetera and etcetera. She doesn’t hate her job – not at all; actually, she only has that job to enhance her field of experience when it comes to crunching the numbers, rearranging them how she wants and where she wants. She is an identity thief after all. Well, to herself, that is. In the real world, she’s just some intern on the brink of actually getting the job. What they didn’t know is she was just using their facilities for her own gain. She loves it and it makes her happy and relaxes her. It is something she cannot afford to stop doing. Literally.
Reaching for the magazine her mind was set on, she could not help but notice a headline on a newspaper next to it. “KOREA’S NUMBER ONE SUPERSTAR COMMITS SUICIDE” it says. Impossible. She blinks twice before reaching out for it; and pulling it out she can see a picture of Zico. Goosebumps. She never liked the man, but hearing of a suicide is never pleasant. Awful, awful news. How in the world did she not hear of it? Newspaper aside and buying “World Finance” in a matter of moments, she decides she can’t ponder over this right now or else she’d be late for work.
Of course, just because it was a change of scenery did not mean it would be a change of topic. Once at work, she fills her favorite mug with hot chocolate (coffee tasted too strange for her sweet taste, no matter how much sugar she put it in) and gathers all the documents that she would be working with today. Despite being merely an intern, they knew how exceptionally well she was with these kinds of things. Placing them all over her desk, she decides to switch through the channels on the small television she has in her office before doing anything. In a few quick moments, she sees that news of Korea’s favorite superstar’s death are on every channel. Zico, Zico, Zico, Zico, Zico, Zi— Enough. Cinder lets out a small sigh as she turned the tv off. “What a lost soul he was,” she murmurs outloud, “I truly hope he’ll find peace.”
* * *
It’s been a long, long day, Cinder thinks, before stepping out into the cold air. Stopping for a moment, breathing in the cold air of this November night relaxes her entirely. She pulls her coat closer together and fixes her hat and scarf. It feels odd to her to try and do anything with gloved fingers, but she knows she wouldn’t be able to feel her hands by the time she got home if she didn’t wear these things. She never liked gloves much, but they did make her fatty little fingers look a bit more fancy.
The long walk home seems to be exactly what she needs – the city lights and the chatter of all the happy people around her seem to be calming her senses and clearing her mind completely. After a while, she passes by a dark alley – the one she hates so much. Every time she finishes work late and has to pass by this alley, she feels the dread creeping through her entire being. Seoul could be a dangerous city at times, and this neighborhood isn’t one of the bests there is. Cinder tries to walk as swiftly as she can past the entrance but then stops right where she is, in the middle, in utter confusion and a glimpse of fear. She could swear she’s heard something. A very low sound came from someone in the distance, but there are no more people around her – she’s damn near alone in this street, save for a couple walking at the far end. All the chatter that can be heard is now coming from, what she assumes is, two blocks away. What was that?
She hears it again. She can’t say if it’s a huff, or a laugh, or a grumble, but it’s certainly coming from the alley. Much to her own disbelief, she utters, reluctantly: “If..someone is following me or trying to scare me…or hurt me…in any way… I can kill a man in three seconds flat!! I was trained, so… don’t try me!” But then, in the midst of her rambling, she hears the sound again, and now she understands what it is – a groan. She can’t believe what she’s doing, but she’s now approaching the source of the low sound, and every inch closer that she gets, the cries become clearer to her.
Next to a trash can she sees a silhouette of a human being, leaned against the wall and curled in what seems to unmistakably be terrible pain. Realizing this, she hurries and quickly kneels next to the person. The moment she does, two things register in her mind: one, she’s kneeling next to a small pool of blood. Two, this just wasn’t any random person beat up like this. “Oh my God,” she gasps, panic rising in her as her fingers begin to shake, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”
I love that you keep sending things in to hear me talk about you, but I don’t mind, I’ll talk some more. Woo Jiho is my best friend, for a long while now. I don’t think we’ve not spoken for a whole day since we grew closer and I’m not complaining at all. Man, if it was possible to talk even more than everyday, I’d gladly do that. Yes, I’m that attached to him. Anyway, what’s new?
send me “your relationship with” + a url and my muse will talk about their relationship with that particular muse.
@wuzic Alright, I’ve tried to write this around 7 times now, but my feelings don’t want to be written down. I’m making one last try before I’ll possibly erase everything and just write “I love him lots”. That wouldn’t be fair, because there’s a whole lot I have to say about him, and us, because it means so much to me. First of all, I can confidently say that he’s my closest friend,
despite how shortly we’ve known each other. It’s all been quite intense, and that’s how we’ve come to open up a lot to each other. Sometimes I question if he deserves something better, and he probably does, but I don’t think it would be possible for me to not be friends with him anymore even if I tried to. It’s true that we have a lot of fights, the most recent one being, well, now. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ll always do anything to make things better again, because I know that I need this, I need our friendship and I wish to think that he does too. There’s a lot of things I feel sorry for, and there are so many things I wish I could change in order to make things easier, for things to just go a lot more smoothly. And, that will happen, eventually. I suppose, I just want to say, that I’ll never give up hope, unless he wants to give up, actually, not sure if even then. Cutting this short because I’ve already shared way too much hah.
Put ☎ in my ask for your muses info in my muses phone :
—- name : zico.—- ringtone : music.mp3—- picture : img899922.png—- last text message recieved : ( INCOMING from zico. ) » ❝ so, you said chicken? ❞ —- last text message send : ( SENDING to zico. ) » ❝ we both know that i am good with convincing, hmm ❞
