“look at him,” hyerin mutters to tj, in english this time – possibly the only other language they had in common save for business. “you’d think i killed his puppy or something by that injured expression he wears.” keeping her smile with the bartender level, she rolls her eyes at taejoon before shrugging it off. “you don’t think he’ll spike our drinks now that he thinks i have a boyfriend, right?”
To the posterior of the awkward encounter, a young man howled with laughter at the beer rolling down his chin, too inebriated to care how little now remained in his glass. The stench fabric stained with alcohol burned the inside of TJ's nostrils. He swore it was enough to get him drunk, what with him already feeling woozy by proxy from the woman sitting next to him. Perhaps the attack on his senses was too much for the recluse to handle. ( Loud conversations over an incessant beat, uncomfortable stool digging into his backside, the taste of smoke. )
He made an attempt to avoid immediately answering Hyerin and her prying by stuffing his mouth with bar peanuts. With cheeks full, and tinted red, he turned from her to look at anything else. It was fortunate the warm, dim lighting masked certain blemishes of the skin. He would have to dance around the last direct question at all costs. Like tiptoeing through a minefield he was just thrown in.
"I mean... yeah, but it's easier to tell someone you don't trust them online than it is in real life..." He trailed off into a murmur ㅡ a bad habit brought on by his 'well-hidden' lack of confidence. He wanted to insist they were far from friends; just two people who happened to beget the other's criminal activities. He knew that wasn't true, however. "It doesn't matter anyway. What do you care if I have any friends or not?"
His eyes then shifted over to the bartender Hyerin mentioned, shuddering from the scrutiny dripping from his gaze alone. TJ shifted in his spot. "You're serious?" A smirk danced over his lips ㅡ though not one of amusement. He continued replying to her in English, lowering his voice. It was in this moment he finally felt slightly more comfortable than he had been all night. "What makes you think that anyone would believe that we were together? Look at me, I'm not even intimidating enough for him to be reasonably put off. I brought a fucking laptop into some bar, for crying out loud." And it had been the most he spoke, continuing his rambling without realizing. "Anyway, if something really happens... you know... I could probably take him. I know a few moves from anime."
“only twenty more minutes, hm? make yourself comfortable, i’ll just start cleaning up and have my fingers crossed that no one will show up in the last five minutes. besides, there’s not much food left, so their loss anyway.” but surely, with company, the time would pass by much faster than had he been alone in here as he often was before five. “but don’t eat it all, i want to grab a bite from somewhere else, or, just. not food from here. it gets tiring, like… people who meal plan. who does that? how? i can’t handle that lifestyle.”
The impatient young man tapped his fingers against the glossy surface of the table he now draped himself over. There was a slight tinge of guilt ㅡ knowing full well it would need to be wiped down in a matter of minutes. His weak attempt to make up for the smudges was to pluck a number of fallen petals from the wood and place them in his open palm. Not yet wilted, vibrant, still plush and full of life.
"Yeah, do whatever you want with 'em." He wanted to insist that he wasn't being thoughtful. That he just thought they looked nice as he was passing by ... coincidentally on a path he rarely took. A scenic route traveled by one who consistently claimed to abhor nature. Dongmin, by now, would have most likely been used to the heavy denial TJ went through when it came to friendly gestures of any kind. Almost as if he were allergic.
"Do you want me to, like..." he glanced out the window, taking in the soothing sight of an empty street. "Press my face against the window and act like an insane person? Then no one will definitely come in."
Uncharacteristically , a small smile began to crack on TJ's usual stone like expression. He visibly tried to suppress it, biting into his lips as to not bear his teeth. What perturbed him more wasn't the fact that he was smiling, but that he couldn't quite pinpoint the cause. The hunger clawing at his stomach would claim it was the promise of free food. "You know... I appreciate you feeding me all the time and all, but you're really missing out if you don't eat at least one chocolate croissant a day, dude. Those things are frickin' delicious."
Hello friends, I just wanted to make a small post here.
This is just a notice that I will be going on a short hiatus until next week. Unfortunately, after taking care of my sick cat for months, we had to put him down the other day. Along with some other stuff in my life going on, it has been a bit hard on me so I'm just going to take a few days to recooperate! Thanks for understanding.
Ah, crap. He is short of cash. This is not the first time he has caught up in this situation. He was not that smart in keeping track of how much cash available in his wallet so when a situation such as this arrives and he was in the middle of a village, Shiori believed he has no other option than to steal? If not, how else is he supposed to support the kids through the night and he could always come back tomorrow to declare the misdeed he has done but not today– that day is not today.
But here is another thing that Shiori might not be good as well: it is being discreet. When he believed pair of eyes that might be on him and calling him out for stealing – STEALING – a cheap food that he was holding, the former medical officer halted on his move.
From the looks of it, he might garnered attention in this convenience mart that he had to tackle the boy into a shoulder hug. “shut the fuck up kid! I am trying to feed kids here! you better say you are joking.” he glanced towards the cashier.
The young man named Taejoon certainly found himself content to think he wasn't the overly judgemental type. Occasionally a pretentious know-it-all when it came to certain subjects, sure, but he knew what he was not. A snitch falling into that category.
Perhaps he made a mistake in his offhand comment about the other man's technique. It was admittedly unwarranted ( and risky considering the unpredictability of the island's criminals ). Something about how he should have better taste in food if he was going to steal it.
He grunted with a smidge of dramatics strewn in. The arm around his shoulder had the remiscent hold of a vice grip. "Careful. I bruise lile a freaking banana, dude. Chill out." TJ attempted to shrug the stranger off ㅡ quietly ㅡ while reaching for what he had his own eye on: a pack of expensive gum in a limited flavor. He kept his voice in a lower tone, aware more than ever how easy it would be to draw attention to themselves. "Anyway, you're just making it worse by freaking out. What are you, like... 28? I was just saying you can steal better than that." Noble cause or not.
The blinds to Taejoon's posterior remained drawn from the night before. Whether or not his current state of still being awake at 9am was fortunate remained uncertain.
From the other room, Uncle Minhwan shouted something incoherent. Something about being right.
His expression, almost giddy, silently told the tale of a man possessed by the two screens in front of him. Admittedly, TJ allowed the concept of his own uncle having eyes all across the city to slip his mind. ( Hacking into security cams, however, was no difficult task. With there being an entire website dedicated to the prying, perhaps he assumed it had already been done.)
"Come. Come look at this crazy shit." Minhwan urgently tugged his nephew down to his level. The foul mouthed rambling continued, increasing in speed with every syllable. "Fucking lunatics. I knew this was going to happen. All the fucking violence here, kid. You think it's the... there's sound waves fucking their heads up. Low frequencies all over. Those studies weren't wrong, people are just overlooking it."
"Right..." Taejoon released a huff of air, allowing the perceived nonsense to absorb without truly listening to what was being said. The morbid sight playing out on the uncensored, jumpy security cameras proved far more fascinating. ( He knew there was always a nugget of truth to his uncle's tangents, however. ) "To be honest, I've seen worse on Reddit."
He stood to wander over to the nearby fridge and pull out a soda can. "Anyways, it's some gang B.S. going on, so we will probably be cool. You saw that broadcast last night, right? I say it's better to sit back and let them snuff each other out." The hacker assumed he had enough connections by this point to protect himself and ㅡ most importantly ㅡ his uncle from the potential dangers, but he knew better than to put his trust in another person. Particularly other criminals.
"Have you contacted your friends yet, TJ?" Somehow, Minhwan inched closer to the footage, analyzing the ransacking of a business. "Ah, fuck. I swear to fucking Christ if those hooligans so much as touch my store ㅡ"
With the reminder of his other cherished ones fresh in his mind, a fog of apprehension overcame TJ. The event only solidified his denial of allowing people into his life. Meaningful connections were obsolete, aiming for business before pleasure was the new in; especially on Myeongcho.
“I need your help. The police…they shelved the case…they never answered my questions….i need to know why.”
The fervor in Chanri's eyes sent a shiver up Taejoon's spine. Fortunately, the palpable tension lingering in the air held his body stationary. He found himself disgusted with his own inability to muster up a verbal apology ㅡ as if doing so would surrender some part of himself. Perhaps she would know better than to expect one from him. ( And he expected far more fury in the form of biting words from here. )
"Yeah, I read about that when it happened..." He mumbled the affirmation with teeth clasped onto his own lip. Coping with the untimely death of a loved one ㅡ let alone a parent ㅡ was no easy task, as he knew. Particularly when said case of the death was shelved, coined undetermined or accidental. The regret of not being there for her as he wished someone had been for him created painful knots in his stomach. His pride told him not to lament over what he should have, could have done.
Inhaling, he finally mustered up the courage to glance in her direction ㅡ although his eyes averted every now and then. "I will help you though." TJ cleared his throat of any apprehension. "It's messed up... but you do know how risky it is, right?" He paused to glance around in case of any eavesdroppers, then fished inside his own bag to turn off his phone, looking toward her to imply she should do the same. Just in case.
"Anyway, it's gonna be...ㅡ Well, honestly it's not to hard to access their digital files, but after some shit has been happening, the MPD probably tightened up their security. Who knows... But you're really willing to do it? I already have some ideas of how we could ..." In this way, he would offer his apology.
Out of all people, TJ expected he would be the last to end up laying face down in a damp alleyway. He likened himself a decent individual and a law-abiding citizen. No that was a blatant lie, but no average person would know of his shadier dealings. Never would he have thought pushing the limits would end up like this. Naivety truly ran thick in his veins. To think enough crime shows ( and personal experiences ) flashed before his eyes for him to get a hint, but his curiosity got the better of him as usual.
Two suspicious looking men called out to him, and TJ being TJ decided to investigate. He was entirely unaware of their intentions until one of them pulled a small bag from his pocket. Foolishly, he played with the idea of going through with a transaction – if only to stop the terrifying men from staring him down. Needless to say, his choice wouldn’t have particularly mattered either way. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground, motionless as they frisked him for loot.
He would find out later they also took his favorite jacket.
"Surviving feels like eating shit."
Taejoon glanced over to the boy he didn't notice sitting on the bench he threw himself onto until that moment. Somehow, he felt as if he needed a cigarette or a large gulp of some liquid hellfire alcohol. If only to complete the movie playing in his head. Realistically, he would decline. "Yeah. You're telling me... Life is one big yeehaw, then you die.”
Will be working on some stuff that will have me online for a bit. Feel free to hit me up for some plots on here or on my d/scord citron#0325. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if anything is needed! This is also for starters, in which case, leave two words or a line of dialogue. They’ll be around less than 300 unless inspiration hits.
“what brings you here today? i feel like i have not seen you in a while. though that is probably an exaggeration on my part…tell me you did not just wake up,” his eyes flickered to what his mind is trying to separate as possible bedhead or TJ’s normal hair, unable to make a proper determination.
The ever-hungry boy stepped along the quieting streets of Mimyo Villiage with his arms draped around his center. Summer ensured the sky wouldn't darken for a good few hours. Granted, the sunshine beating on his back was something he proclaimed to be unaccustomed to, he braved through it to reach Wild Flours before closing time. The closer to the doors shutting the better ㅡ if only so he could catch Dongmin before he left.
He waited until the older stopped his partial rambling, partial scolding to open his own mouth. Even if TJ often forgot he had two years on him, he still possessed enough presence of mind to be respectful every once in a while. ( He assumed it would mean more if he didn't do it as much. )
"You're not closed though. It's 4:30pm on the dot. I made sure to check before I got in here, dummy..." The words were framed by a bashful smile, then a hand through his unkempt hair. "Uh... but I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out or something? And... also, I got you... something. Kinda."
He fished through the bag fastened to his form, keeping the strap on his shoulder. "It's in here..." His fingers combed through until they brushed over soft petals and thin stems. Although slightly bent and ruffled, he still present the flowers to the other with sincerity. With this, he would claim ㅡ mentally ㅡ that Dongmin was the only person he would willingly make himself a fool of for. "Wild flowers for Wild-Flours... like you're always saying, you know?"
He looked to each side, behind him, above ( simply to be facetious, of course ), then pointed to himself in confusion. "Is that even a question?" Snorting, he playfully shoved at the younger in the way a sibling would. Taejoon initially thought of it as something of a silly request ( perhaps a joke, even ), but the further he dwelled on the idea, the more he felt inclined to give in.
"I mean, I'll get chicken nuggets with you as long as you pay for your own food. I'm seriously doing you a service here, so obviously..."
No response. The woman in question was light years away from his grasp ㅡ mentally, physically. Her form left behind a ghostly residue in the places she typically lingered. Some had indents carved into certain curves from each touch of someone she loved more than him.
He floated toward the off white paper tacked onto the fridge, half of his name concealed with a magnet shaped like a jellyfish. ( Nevermind the otherwise empty canvas, absent of any personal touches. ) Typically, Taejoon found it charming, but its carefully drawn cartoon eyes seemed to mock him as he pried it away from the surface.
I went out with friends. I'm sure you can figure out dinner like usual. See you later!
Mom
Fingers curled around the delicate paper until it folded against the ridges of his knuckles. ( Memories of fingers curled around the speckled fabric of his mother's dress, far more fragile than the woman it encapsulated. A pink chiffon mask concealing something of a sinister form. )
Tears streaked hot on his cheeks, disappearing down his neck and tickling at the wrinkled collar of his faded t-shirt. In the dozen years prior he could remember, he was certain sadness in any form hadn't consumed him to such an extent since the death of his father. It was in this state he made the decision he'd been waiting to for years.
Dear Jasmine Kim,
I left, too. Don't bother pretending to be concerned when the realization hits you. You've been lying to me for years and I know about everything you think I don't. I hate you. I didn't think it would ever be possible for a son to hate his mother so much. I don't want to see you again and I think it's better this way. We will bother be happier. I'm really tired of having to hate you in person. So goodbye.
Ahn Taejoon
He paused, scanning over the disdain filled words with scrutiny. There was no time to linger around the precipice of regret. It ㅡ and guilt ㅡ would never have the opportunity to swallow him whole. No matter how much the pain scratched at the inside of his stomach, threatening to split him in half.
Fabricated premonitions told him of his mother's response. He imagined it alongside the way she never said his name anymore. Joon became Taejoon, became TJ, became "that boy", "the kid". No longer her son.
The wayward teenager found a twisted form of solace in destroying any remaining traces of his existence from the cramped apartment. Scissors clutched in his fist sliced into the only family photos tucked in a corner of the living room. Even if it meant cutting around her form in a convoluted manner, he kept the images of himself and his father connected, pressing the pieces together. He desired for her to feel as alone as he felt when he needed her at his most vulnerable.
His final act of rebellion was shoving any items of value into the two bags he owned. Numerous graphic t-shirts, two pairs of jeans, a hastily gathered bundle of mismatched socks, and the refurbished laptop he spent months saving for. The only pair of shoes he owned were already fastened on his feet.
Temples pounding from the strain of his sorrow, he departed the apartment for the final time, refusing to pass even a glance behind him. If he did he feared he would be trapped there forever.
I don't want to have any regrets.
Well over an hour passed that he roamed the empty streets of his small Washington town ㅡ dazed, lost if not for his familiarity ㅡ but he somehow could not find it in himself to reach his destination. He leaned his body against the decrepit brick wall, allowing the darkness to seep over him. It offered comfort from the buzzing streetlamps bathing him in blinding light. Even so, he gazed up out of sheer curiosity. Orbs, twinkling in his vision, danced to an unsung tune until fusing into the shape of two headlights. ( One dimmed from neglect of the owner ㅡ his uncle Minhwan. )
He did not remember looking down.
A voice called out to him in desperation. Its familiar tone held connotations of comfort and guidance. "Taejoon? Hey, why are you waiting there looking like a dejected street cat, huh? Get in the car!"
He did not recall the rain falling from the night sky until the air conditioning inside stung his wet skin. He was just the deer in the road who caught a ride.
"I knew that bitch was insane... I knew it," ㅡ his uncle rambled on despite the teen's vacant expression. "You're not hurt? Jesus Christ, kid, you know, you really scared the shit out of me with that voicemail, I thought..."
He didn't remember calling for help.
Taejoon silently shook his head, clutching one of the bags to his chest to safely bury himself against. Wet stains from the rain were convenient in masking any new ones. "No, I'm okay. I just... wanna go home..." Within the safety of nestled arms, his face contorted into something reminiscent of a child refused his favorite toy. Nearly five years of suppressing the feelings a boy his age had every right to built a preventative dam. Aged 14 and he already shamed himself for reasonably human emotions.
Amidst stifled sniffling, Taejoon managed to croak out another plea. "Promise you won't make me run away, too. Please promise me that..."
"Call me Sandy Cheeks because there's plenty of times when I wanna go home." He procures a banana from the pocket of his hoodie. "But like this banana, I probably won't ever go back to where I was born. It's a cruel world."
Seeing the question coded behind hexidecimal, TJ cannot help but grin in amusement. ( He has half a mind to reply in some kind of encrypted code in response to further pull the curious down the proverbial rabbit hole. ) He types the answer out with certainty. When it comes to writing out his thoughts as opposed to verbalizing them, he has the ability to go on for as long as his fingers didn't get sore. "What's it to you, weirdo? You wanna be my enemy?" He mutters to himself behind the screen, taking a smug sip of the drink at his side.
> my nemesis is anything that stands against me or in my way. sleep is a worthy opponent. script kiddies with how much they're annoying to me. the enemy of my friend is my enemy like the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
The further he types, the more he can feel himself physically curl into himself. Although, internally, some of these things listed brought him disdain, he could never firmly declare them as an enemy.
> not being serious with that edgy response. don't worry. the neutral being only has one enemy... my lactose intolerance.
“uh-uh,” shaking her head furiously when taejoon requests the oddest thing – wifi in a dive bar wasn’t unheard of in this century, but bringing an entire laptop in? that was unacceptable. “hey, if i can drive on a couple shots, so can you. and trust me when i say i’m going to be much, much more ruined than you are tonight.” seating herself next to the boy, she closes the laptop with one hand and passes him a shot of tequila with the other. “drink up, tj, this one – and the rest of them – are on me.”
The distinct throbbing of his heart in his throat blocked any attempt to verbally protest in the form of an outburst. The heavy frown he wore, however, spoke volumes over the loud music. ( Surely he was out of place in more ways than one. )
He recalled the anonymous chatters in his IRC clamoring over how they would kill to be him ㅡ to be involved with a girl as objectively attractive as Hyerin who was willing to be around him of her own accord ㅡ but Taejoon was after something in an entirely different playing field. Purely business. Purely mutually beneficial in the way two people like them could agree on. He was certain the woman to his side was well aware of the game he was trying to play. Whatever it happened to be on that day was entirely unclear. The metaphorical ball landed in his court.
His fingers coiled up in themselves as soon as the laptop nearly closed on them. A sigh, prefaced by his eyes swiftly scrunching shut. "I mean, you're not wrong that you're gonna be 'ruined' or whatever. And I'll freaking drive you home, but ㅡ " He pushed the tequila back in her direction, hand firm on hers to . "I don't drink..." In fact, he never had. Not after the countless benders his mother had been on in his presence. That and his presumptions of it having an utterly foul taste.
After his retort, he resigned himself to his fate. Slowly, but surely. "If you wanna buy me some shitty bar food and a spite, though, I'm totally down for you treating me."
her gaze narrowing, she looks him over. “ why do you look worse than usual? oh, i forgot. ” mockingly, she dims the lights behind her. “ there, much better. ” with a fake grin, she turns, expecting him to follow her lead and because she tires of how the housekeeper hovers in the nearby hallway, trying to see who’s arrived. “ if it’s cold, i’m blaming you. ” but he knows that just as well as she does, that she’d much rather blame him than herself for anything. her entire life has always been a test of how far are people willing to go for her, for her connections to her father.
To fill the minimal silence, he extended his fingers along the breadth of the bag. The crinkling sounds were something of a familiar comfort he couldn't quite begin to describe. Assumptions brought him to the conclusion Eunmi would never understand such simple pleasures.
"Yeah, okay... You can just heat it up again anyway, so it's not even that big of a deal. You're rich, right? You probably have a microwave..." As he mumbled out his snarky retort, the scent of a fresh meal ( even if from a convenience store ), elicited a heavy rumble from within the far corners of his stomach. Part of him screamed he was overstaying his welcome already; the other urged him to get something out of his efforts.
Perpetually torn, TJ lingered around the dining table ㅡ the surface of which would soon be brimming with unhealthy snacks. Anxious fingers brushed over every package to examine them for any potential flaws or tears. Some semblance of hope it wouldn't be good enough for her.
( That maybe he wouldn't be good enough for her eventually, only to be discarded. It would ultimately defeat the purpose of his original scheme of information seeking ㅡ and simultaneously betray the promises put in place to prevent him from falling down this path of useless emotion in the first place. Who was he now? An Ahn Taejoon who feared yet relished in the idea of being thrown away. )
"And you know... I was gonna ignore what you said earlier about me looking bad," he pressed one of the chocopies against his palm, slowly pressing down on it until air escaped from one of the delicately glued seams. "But it kind of hurt my feelings, and you also didn't even thank me for my services, so I'm taking this as compensation."
