the prevalence, insistence of nightly jaunt plagues him with insomnia. he induces himself with the weight of calibrated after-dark life, filtering out the senses. the influxes of missions these days might have rippled in the ground, his balance obliterated for a short while. however, that is welcome. heβd rather have something at hand, one that isnβt too mundane, too orthodox, to keep his inner demons adrift. sure, thereβs no sustained morality in this, his conduct reflecting none of what his mouth would say. but this is it: the duality of life, dissected in two, one of them limping.
when the pendulum swings, he believes that it is the humanity heβs clung onto for the longest time that lacks weight at the end. how risible. it feels like battling a losing war, but life is always constructed that way. its mechanism is never as simple as a childβs play, the gritted reality telling naught if not the survival of the fittest. and who is not the fittest, if not those who hone the demons within themselves? and heβs nurtured them in his cradle. of course, these parasites manifest in him. further, further. again, he runs a hand through his bleached dark silver locks. looks at himself in the mirror: just how vulnerable he might seem when heβs an embodiment of terror itself. shadow-riddled, consuming.
and itβs incessant, the fights between the two sides of this coin. so, tonight he learns to forget all over again. in his tattered jeans and leather jacket, alongside a tucked loose tee, he heads towards the door. sneakers strapped, he heads towards the rooftop bar in the area. knowing the district, it is never a hardship finding a place that would welcome him with open arms, its cacophony inviting. a weekday, yet the nightlife in apgujeong does not discriminate. he steps into the bar without further ado, the security check barely acting as one seeing just how many times heβs visited the hub. under the cloaking firmament of black, the onslaught of shadows might be overwhelming, but heβs accustomed to it.
he heads towards the open bar area, sparing no thoughts towards his surroundings until he locates a familiar faceβ¦ no, two. he smirks. tonight will be interesting if he deals his card right, and for that, he makes a beeline towards the familiar face. her face brightens up when she spots him approaching her. she notices him before her company does, and itβs apparent that sheβs always been holding some kind of interest in idris. itβs not like heβs been clandestine, his status as a member of the prominent gentlemen club might have preceded himβ¦ but heβs definitely a charmer when it comes down to both face and traits. and while she might be a tad cunning, sheβs also driven by lust.
lee yoora, the youngest of the three daughters, parents fiddling with the financial firms. sisters married, and she, being the most flirtatious among them, hasnβt scored a man of her dreams. three years older than idris, he hasnβt exactly dodged her advances in manners too obvious. he tends to play hard to getβ¦ if not oblivious, when heβs anything but. he reads naivety with ease, spinning it in his fingers as he toys around the strings. sheβs included, of course; sheβd like to believe that his chance with him is not that thin. after all, she has that quixotic role to play: the intellectual woman pruned to become the trophy wife. thatβs such a shame, heβd think, but thatβs what makes her an effortless target.
βyoora-noona,β he nods at her after the gap is closed. βitβs been a long time since we last met. fancy seeing you hereβ¦ and not alone, i presume?β he chuckles. eyes falter from her, redirected towards the nightβs prey: seojun. heβs heard of the name from the shadier, filthier bars. to stumble upon a face in these two polarizing settings, itβs just uncommon. sheβs eager to introduce him to this man, too, etching slight wonder in him whether the man is another influential wayfarer who likes to trace the dingy spots of seoul like him, too. he offers the man a smile in return. βidris, or ryujin. you can call me whichever,β he says. ordering the three of them drinks, he turns his attention back to yoora. βhave you been here for a while?β
π'π ππππππ ππ πππ πππππ, πππ π ππππ πππππ πππππ. feat. @cvvalierβ: seojun.



















