SKIN & BONES.

hearts are empty almost all the time, blind devising ways to lead the blind.

[wsgeon]

hey everyone! ummm this is peyton (also the mun of lee hyeon) taking a second shot at a second character — i have a lot of muse for this one, so i swear he’ll be around for a while… 🥵 this is ryu geon, yes his name rhymes with hyeon’s & no i do not care ♥️ he’s the lead guitarist/vocalist of meta and also the son of a former nobody rockstar, but i’ll get into all that below! like this post if you’d like for me to come into your ims to plot, click the read more for more info on geon, and/or click here to be taken to his pages: CAREER, DOSSIER, PINTEREST.

HISTORY.

born in autumn ‘97 to a “budding rockstar” (translation: “no yeah i swear our band’s really starting to take off, we sold twenty-three tickets to our last show!”) & a woman with commitment issues ♥️ geon’s dad always told him that his mom left because she had some dire matters that needed to be taken care of and SWORE that she cried the last time she held her dear baby boy, but all of his dad’s bandmates say that she was just some groupie and had to be persuaded into carrying her child to term… who can say for sure?

naturally, there are no pictures of this mystery woman. there was one (1) of her holding infant geon, but then he found out that that was actually a sound tech who worked for his dad’s band… and he just never corrected geon’s assumptions LOLLLL

anyway! he was always really close to his dad, considering they were a two-person family. he has a set of grandparents, an aunt and a couple cousins but they were never involved with geon’s life because his dad is the #blacksheep of the family. geon and his dad against the world, am i right?

uhhh geon was also kind of a black sheep growing up, but he didn’t really notice? he was a happy kid, very energetic and enthusiastic. a lot of adults in the area looked down on him & his dad, but he was SOOOO blind to it because his dad’s a god in his eyes and HE’S always been nice to everyone, so why would they not like him??? because his clothes smelled a little like dad’s cigarette smoke??? big deal

wasn’t troublesome (beyond talking too much), but a lot of people still expected bad things from him :/ “his father’s a dirtbag, i’ll be surprised if that boy doesn’t end up in jail by 20”, “he won’t amount to anything without a proper role model in his life”, “his dad is teaching him how to slack off”, “he won’t contribute anything to society”, etc. he kindaaa picked up on this as he got older but pretended not to because it was more rewarding to play dumb and keep being a good kid(tm) to prove them wrong

was basically a mini version of his dad. same style, similar features, birthmarks in the same places, same “live today, die tomorrow” approach in life, same affinity for singing & playing rock music. ummm he loved his dad a lot. a lot. a lot. wanted to make him proud SO BAD, started his first band when he was 15 and they sucked so bad but his dad was their biggest fan… you know how it is. a lot of people misunderstood him, but he was a very good guy and such a great parent

TW DEATH unfortunately he passed away just shy of geon’s 18th birthday and your boy still hasn’t forgiven the world for taking his dad when he was in the middle of his angsty teen phase — had he known that their time together was dwindling, he would’ve been so so so much better to him END TW

his dad’s band actually rocketed into the charts after he passed & suddenly they were getting loads of publicity, lots of “what a shame that he went under-appreciated” which pissed geon off SOOOO bad because why couldn’t they have had that energy when he was still alive? he’s still mad about it five/six years later

this is getting kinda long, so uhhh tl;dr, he ended up staying with the drummer of his dad’s band until he was old enough to live alone/READY to live alone, but he changed quite a bit. was really going through it, quit his band, stopped putting effort into school. barely graduated. went from being a social butterfly spending every weekend at a gig or with friends to spending all of his time on a pc or in front of a tv, playing console games. the internet comforted him when nobody else would/could and then he met the future members of meta <33333333 #newbeginnings

present day geon is still struggling, has to go to counseling bi-weekly but he’s coming back out of his shell! he wants to fall in love with life again, just wants to tread carefully... outgoing & will talk to absolutely anyone, but he still spends most of his time alone. hard to reach by text, so if you wanna talk to him, you better call/facetime LMAO. talks a mile a minute, especially if you get him going abt something he really likes. laughs a lot, smiles a lot, more habitual than actual signs of happiness but yk. ummm he has a really loud voice, mostly controlled nowadays but he still gets carried away sometimes. an absolute menace during long drives/flights, sorry meta.

funny but only when he’s in large groups. feeds off of other peoples’ energy, really good at reading a room and breaking the ice/making everyone comfortable, but if you meet him 1-on-1, none of his jokes land quite the same.

i envision him as being the kind of guy who carries himself in such a way that you’d assume he’s really popular/out of reach/maybe even full of himself, but he’s... not like that... at all... in fact, he’s kinda irritating when you get to know him. the personification of a flood followed by a drought and vice versa, always either too much or not enough. gets used/ghosted/dropped/dumped/whatever a lot because he’s soooo fun in the moment (if he isn’t in his feelings), but draining long-term.

really emotionally intelligent, in touch with his feelings in a way that a lot of people never thought he would be (probably thanks to counseling tbh). he’s very very rarely the type of person who will make you wonder what your place in his life is — he’s communicative, kind, honest. ummm he thinks that intimacy between friends needs to be more common, so he’s really affectionate with the people in his life. type of guy to tell you he loves you every chance he gets (calling you when he’s drunk, sounding like a clingy ex type beat) & greet you/depart with a hug. losing his dad kinda fucked him up in the way that he won’t leave/hang up until his friends say “i love you” back, gets kinda (re: very) upset if he’s denied that and/or a hug.

TRIVIA.

has been playing the guitar “longer than he’s been walking” (not really, but he swears it’s true).

uhhh he really likes nail art, but he’s kinda hesitant in what he tries? mainly sticks to black polish (or other plain colors), but sometimes he’ll get little designs added in as well. mainly does it himself because he still doesn’t feel comfortable in salons... if his work looks bad, leave him alone <3 he’s trying

inspired by people like kurt cobain, nicky wire, yungblud, billie joe armstrong & damiano david in the fact that he’s not against wearing dresses or skirts on stage. doesn’t do it ALL the time, but often enough that it doesn’t go unnoticed. some people say that he does it for attention because he doesn’t dress like that elsewhere and tbh they’re probably kinda right

interested in history (only SOME... dinosaurs, ancient civilizations, specialized areas like the history of circuses/clowns/skateboarding/punk, stuff like that yk), stand-up comedy & documentaries. could spend a whole day watching documentaries and would say he had fun, has a lot of useless knowledge that nobody gives a fuck about and is kinda dumb when it comes to things that matter

when it comes to music, he prefers playing really fast and heavy rock or punk over anything else, but he actually listens to a lot more soft indie on his own time... he’s too tense these days to be listening to anything else RIPPP

the vibe: homemade tie-dye, ripped slipknot t-shirts, frosted tips, neon crocs with alien & peace-sign charms, chipped black nail polish, calloused hands, cheesy pick-up lines used NOT to land a date but to pull a smile, driving until he’s lost, stupid socks paired with pressed suits, dramatic poetry in an iphone note, etc. 

PLOT IDEAS.

people he met through online support groups about coping with grief

uhhh an on & off relationship that’s been going for who-knows-how-long. the reason for this is up for discussion, but i imagine that he hasn’t given up yet because the constant highs and lows are a good source of inspo 🤪 artists must suffer for their art!

opposite side of the coin — someone he’s interested in, but he’s NOT disloyal so it’s a pattern of persistent courting when he’s single vs intense friend-zoning when he’s not and they’re getting tired of trying to figure out what he wants from them

someone else who likes nail art & can convince him that NOBODY cares if he goes to a salon

someone (probably female but doesn’t really matter tbh) who feels like his feminism is entirely performative… maybe they attack him directly for it or maybe they just REALLY don’t like him and they’re super vague about it idk. either way, please tell him that activism is much more than recommending one female artist a year and saying “clothes have no gender 🤪” so he can be praised for the bare minimum (his heart is in the right place but his skull is empty)

someone super introverted who comes out of their shell with geon! uhhh maybe they think that he’s the one doing them a favor, but in reality spending time with them has been doing wonders for his mental health

other people who like to skate. let’s congregate at the local skatepark and scare the middle schoolers away

someone who inspires him musically, for whatever reason. lots of late nights in studios, idly strumming his guitar and writing lyrics that definitely aren’t about how their eyes look in these dim lights… umm maybe he thinks he has a crush on them but really doesn’t and ends up hurting them eventually, maybe he really DOES have a crush but will (probably) never do anything abt it or maybe it’s entirely platonic and he just admires them a ridiculous amount

someone who likes to make music as a hobby, prob won’t publish/release any of it but it’s fun to imagine. spontaneous meetings with geon in the middle of the night, recording songs together and keeping the WORST takes for the laughs. there’s probably a diss-track of them going in on each other floating around somewhere even though geon can’t rap for shit

night owls who keep him company on the phone, even if they can’t be there physically. them talking really quietly vs geon shouting at them while he plays games LMAO

gaming buddies. come over, maybe you can carry geon through his game of the week or you can both fail but have fun while you’re at it… or you can scream while he fends off that hoard of zombies behind you

i’m typing this at the last minute (literally) so i’m gonna stop here, but i will get a proper plots page put up asap with a wider variety of connections!!! but as always, please do let me know if you have any other ideas. i’m always happy to plot and write with you all 🌚

[wsgeon]

19 + 26 !!

what is your perfect idea of success?

“personally, i’ve always believed that success is more of a feeling than a concrete idea—as long as you’re happy with what you’re doing and where you’re at, then who can really tell you that you aren’t succeeding?”

it’s a simple philosophy spoken by a man who doesn’t know how ‘simplicity’ works. as he gives his answer, it crosses his mind that he’s not sure if he’s happy with where he’s at or what meta’s doing. it had been an easier question a few years ago, before they’d signed to wishbone records and before they’d sign to their prior label, when everything that they did was a leap of faith with no net to fall into. things are better now, but different. they’re still a rock band, but sometimes he wonders if the spirit of it all has been lost. sometimes he’s sure that it has.

“it’s just about your attitude, you know. this applies to all things, but i’ll describe it using music: you can release a best-selling hit, but if your heart’s not in it, you can still feel like a failure while you can play a show to a crowd of twelve people but if all twelve of those people know the words, you’ll still feel like you’ve done something great, right?”

what's your favorite way to spend the day off?

“there’s this restaurant that i’ve been frequenting lately. if i’ve got a day off, i will be there. my current goal is to try everything on the menu.” sure—that’s his goal, maybe. if not, then at least a half-assed excuse for hanging around so often. he tries to come up with something else, but he remains empty-handed. once upon a time, he’d had hobbies. once upon a time, he’d been spontaneous enough to find something to do even on short notice. but lately, routine has been a source of comfort while he’s still trying to fully step back into the world. it’s boring, but: “otherwise, i like to sleep or take long drives with my friends. hyojin, usually.”

[wsgeon]

been busy but i have four days off in a row starting tomorrow so i’ll be around to finally get the self-paras/starters/replies i’m racking up for both hyeon & geonwoo posted or queued soon ☠️

[wsgeon]

wshyojin:

( ... )

it would be a sign to see, but when he thinks about it, its not rare for all of them to constantly steal stuff from one another. the amount of picks he had gotten from the others and every now and again new strings for his own guitar. "i’ll just buy you a pair instead.”

“i’d be stealing them for you, asshole.”

just like that, he’s pulled from his daze. makes him wonder why he’d avoided hyojin in the first place when—just like always—he’s the first person to drag geonwoo back down to earth. petty resistance fails in the end and he's grinning in spite of himself. 

“i wouldn’t come crying to you, because i’d blame it on you in the first place. hyojin told me to! he has them!” mischief thickens his tone, brightens his face while he’s busy rolling the tension out of his shoulders. it feels like he’s been here before: seven years ago, sharing laughter in his dad’s car an hour after hurting his feelings. he doubts hyojin’s feelings had been hurt by something as simple as being ignored (if that were the case, surely he’d never have a happy moment in his life, living with the meta members), but it still pushes him to be kinder. he saves his sharp language for later.

“but if you’re in the mood to spend money on me today, i won’t tell you no. it’s always more fun to use somebody else’s money,” he quips. a beat passes, and he spends it rolling the passenger side window the rest of the way down and checking the time on his phone. not too early, not too late — not that he’s got anywhere else to be, anyway. “what about all three? music store, game store, mcdonald’s after. if you’ve got any errands to run, we should do that while we’re out, too.”

his smooth exhale carries an admission: “i don’t really want to go home right now.”

[ortali]

[wsgeon]

wsheejin:

( ... )

“welcome,” she greets. “i’m sure you know by now, but please feel free to sit anywhere and just call for me when you’re ready to order!”

it’s a slow infiltration, passing conversations with ajummas used as building blocks for geon’s reputation: even if it’s only in this restaurant, he wants to be seen as something other than the shameless rockstar & wasted potential. it’s not that he’s embarrassed of who he is—because really, he isn’t—but he still finds himself covering every single one of his tattoos & wearing his brightest smile when he’s in the area, just to make sure that there’s not a damn thing that anyone can say against him. 

he usually doesn’t care this much. not enough to switch his fashionably ripped slipknot t-shirts out for cashmere sweaters and definitely not enough to even attempt to tame his hair (”if you want to win any girl over, you need to look like you have some self-respect”, one old lady had told him), but it goes without saying that competition for kang heejin’s attention is fierce.

he’s lucky enough that she looks at him at all when he steps in. sure, it’s luck — and he’s ‘give him an inch and he’ll take a mile’ ryu geon, so he pushes the boundaries of it.

‘sure, thank you’, he might say if he were somebody else, then give a modest bow of his head as he steals away into some corner. but instead, he grins, eyeing the table that she’d just stood up from. “that’s actually my favorite table,” he suggests, getting straight to the point with a light-hearted lie. he takes a couple steps towards her. 

“if i can really sit anywhere, then is it okay if i sit here?” and just so his intentions are perfectly clear, he adds, “with you. i don’t really like sitting alone, anyway.”

[luthienne]

give me your garbage i will burn it i promise you i won’t crucify it i won’t even keep it in memory i would accept it without lashing out i’d accept it i promise you

Blanca Varela, from The Blinding Star (tr. Sara Daniele Rivera & Lisa Allen Ortiz)

[wsgeon]

therealmeta 🤔

[wsgeon]

wshyojin:

( ... )

“we can go see if there are any new nice guitars or something at the music store. last time i went, they had a few new one you might like.” he suggests, glancing over to his side to look at geonwoo, brows raised. “i might even buy a new pair of drum sticks, i broke my last pair the other week, too scared to steal some from our lovely drummer.”

ever the optimist, not even geonwoo is safe from the strong waves of melancholy that autumn brings. shorter days make way for longer nights and while he’s always been a night owl, he thinks that this is a terrible time for change—in the space between september and december, he could use a little extra light. 

“i didn’t realize it was you,” he tries, feeble excuse lacking the necessary punch to land. it’s obviously not true, both to himself and hyojin. he’s not sure whether the effort to protect the leader’s feelings is honorable or shameful. “i’m not wearing my contacts, and i took you for that weird fan we met a while back. i’m sure you remember the one.” for an instant, his barren expression cracks and amusement breaks through. a smile, then a short laugh. (if the lie itself wasn’t shameful, then the far-fetched comparison must be.)

he straightens up in the passenger seat, fixing his posture before an ache can find its way to his spine, though his elbow remains perched in the crevice between the glass of the window and the door itself. one sharp turn would be enough to disturb its balance, but for now it’s comfortable. neutrality moves in to his expression again. “not really, but if you don’t want to burn gas, the music store’s fine.” only because of hyojin needing drumstricks, though—and maybe half because of the comfort found in being thought of. it’s something simple, something to be expected from a bandmate, but the phrase ‘they had a few new ones you might like’ means more to geonwoo in the moment than he thinks hyojin realizes. 

he smiles again, more genuine this time. “it would be good to have a few pairs of your own, but i’ll steal some from her later. i’m not scared.”

[wsgeon]

10 & 25!

what are your top 5 favorite artists?

“only five? that’s not nearly enough,” he complains, playful glare pulling his eyebrows in and lips down before he breaks into a smile. “i’ll give it a try, though. number one will forever be kickstart, my dad’s band. if it weren’t for them, i probably never would have started or joined any bands at all, let alone gotten this far—in a sense, i have them to thank for everything. after that, there’s not much of a ranking system. my taste changes often, so i’ll say... slipknot for sure, thornapple, gummy, and... nirvana? but that’s leaving out too many amazing artists, like madonna and shin haechul...”

do you have any rituals you do before a next big project?

“sure i do. some of them are steadfast, some of them change with the eras, but doesn’t everybody have something that they do before starting a new project?” perhaps he’s too superstitious in the way that he always has to have a clean pair of socks on (fresh out of the dryer, mind you) before he’ll play a show, or how he keeps his lucky coin in his left back pocket during the entire process of writing new songs. small things mean the most to him. too much, old management had told him. you should get over yourself. but times change, and the old company had fallen short of making him feel embarrassed of his routines, so he grins while he finishes answering the question. “the main one is playing frisbee before a show. my dad and i used to toss one around before kickstart played. every single time. something about how it helped warm up his hands, and i guess i’ve held onto it ever since.”

[wsgeon]

@wsahreum​ said: “i wish i could accept the compliment.”

it’s the first thing that geon hears when the door of his studio creaks open and his identification of the voice is instantaneous—it’s the nervous tremor that gives it away, he figures. not that he’d ever say as much to the girl it belongs to.

an unusual mix of curiosity & vigilance pushes him through the hallway until he finds ahreum and her uncle outside a practice room, almost like he’d pulled her from a session. maybe he had. either way, she looks uncomfortable and while geon doubts that the ceo’s intentions are bad, meaning well doesn’t erase anxiety. so he eases closer, shoulders squared in a subconscious display of defense while he formulates an excuse for interrupting their conversation. 

it wouldn’t be believable to say that he’s sorry for falling behind when she looks to be fresh from practice. wouldn’t be believable to say that he’d called in an order for lunch, either, when the music still playing from the room suggests there are other trainees in the room. god forbid he seems to be showing signs of favoritism—(then again, would dongwoo even mind?)

“ahreum!” he half-shouts, like he’s been trying to get her attention all throughout the hallways and hasn’t simply crept up on the two. he grins, raising one hand in a half-wave. “your phone,” he starts, pausing to glance towards her hands. no phone. great. “i think i fixed it, but i need your password to unlock it & make sure; could you come with me for a second?”

he turns towards the ceo briefly to give an ‘apologetic’ bow of his head. “my bad for interrupting, but i’m sure we’re all busy, so...” again, his hands raise and he waves them around vaguely. gesturing towards some non-existent point. “you know.”

[wishingstarsrp]

These questions can be answered from your perspective as a mun or from the perspective of the character! As the main goal for the prompt is for headcanons and character development, you’re free to answer however many you’d like. The questions include options for artists as well as staff, as to make sure everyone can have something to answer! When you reblog, users will send in numbers corresponding to those question!

Each answered question will be worth 1 TOKEN EACH, which you’ll be able to claim a total of 5 times, totaling out to 5 TOKENS TOTAL! When you’re done, please submit the links to these 5 asks to the points blog. Make sure to tag all answers as WS:HCMEME. For these to count for activity, the word count for each answer must exceed 100 words. Like an open event, this meme will not have a time limit and can be used by future applicants.

Keep reading

[wsgeon]

𝗶 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶'𝗺 𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗸𝘆.

summary: september ‘21—geon visits the mausoleum to honor the six-year mark of his dad’s passing. this time, he doesn’t cry. warnings: direct mentions of death & grieving.

1,017 words.

sometimes geon still thinks he might wake up one day and find his dad waiting on him in the kitchen of their family home, cooking eggs & bacon—always the same meal, always just as bland. but it’ll be so packed full of love that it’ll surely taste like a michelin-starred meal. 

it’s the naivety stored within his heart. still just a kid, emotionally stunted by the lack of guidance in recent years: he can talk things out with his therapist, but it always falls short in the parental-nurturance department. sometimes delusion is the best way (the only way) to cope.

the mausoleum has a way of putting things into perspective. muddy footprints on the once-white floors, mocking the mourners. they ought to keep a place like this clean, he thinks, but it always, always seems to rain on september 15th. the earth caves in just outside the front doors, crevice of mud and trampled grass so graciously welcoming visitors—it’s no match to the better, more expensive resting places set on concrete & decorated with gleaming marble.

guilt creeps in. he kicks it back out, bouquet of purple and white peonies clutched in his hands.

another time, another place. a day like this shouldn’t be spent feeling sorry for himself. so he approaches (after making damn sure that his shoes are free of mud: it can’t change the presence of the tracks already left, but it makes his heart feel slightly lighter), steps stopping directly in front of the box in the wall dedicated to ryu hangyeom. empty, as always—there are flowers or cards seen through the transparent screens of the boxes to either side, both above and below, but never in his unless geonwoo is the one to leave them.

(another delusion thought: sometimes he imagines finding a gift left by his mother, something he could use to find her, maybe. he wonders if she even knows that the father of her child is dead, that her son’s been left alone. if she’d care.)

“sorry that i’m late, dad,” he murmurs, pulling the door open. he places the bouquet inside and watches how the flowers force inwards to accommodate the lack of space. it always makes him sad, how a man with a presence so large could have his existence diminished to such a tiny square. he presses his hands against the steel walls, pushing. like he thinks he’ll be able to make more room. if he could, maybe he’d even crawl inside and send himself over, too.

(there’s a thought: where do the gifts go? the cards, the bouquets, the knick-knacks, the cigarettes, the bags of snacks. he wonders if maintenance stores them away somewhere sacred or if they throw them out. if they smoke the cigarettes that he buys out of habit.)

“i had some work to do today.” a lie. meta’s been granted the month off, and he hasn’t been doing much of anything aside from playing the same track in his studio & pretending that he might do some work on it, eating all three meals at the same damn restaurant and running in circles. he’s let his life become stale.

“you know that’s a lie, don’t you?... i miss hearing you call me out on my bullshit. i used to get so mad, didn’t i?” he forces a laugh that turns into a suppressed cough. his mouth’s dry. probably from the clenched jaw, tongue pressed straight up against the roof of his mouth for hours now. a day spent trying not to cry. “but do you know that i’d do anything to hear you going off on me again? i know you still do. i bet you cuss me out every single day, so could you do it a little louder next time?”

he closes the glass door. maybe it’ll filter out some of his sadness while his message is sent across. he imagines that his dad would tell him to stop moping, but he knows that reality would be the opposite. a firm hand on his shoulder, turning into an arm wrapped tight around him and pulling him in. he misses the bear-hugs more than anything.

“i wish you could see how much people love you. this morning, when i... when i woke up, i saw your name trending. your fans have been streaming your albums again. missing you almost as much as i do.” a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, bitterness resting on the tip of his tongue. the difference between him and his dad is that his first thought is why couldn’t you have loved him sooner? and his dad’s would certainly be at least they finally came around.

he wonders if he’s doing a good job at carrying on his dad’s legacy, or if he’s still too clumsy in his free-love, no-rules, all-peace approach.

“speaking of albums, we’re about to start working on a new one for meta. i always wish that i could call you and talk to you about the members, or about the fans that i’ve met. or that you were right around the corner and we could come by for a late dinner after a show. i think the members would all love you, and i think that you’d love them just as much. maybe you’d even pester them more than you pestered me. but i don’t think they’d mind.”

he sighs, then sits on the floor. nevermind the dried mud rubbing off on his clothes, nevermind the fact that he’s no longer at face-level with his dad’s allotted space. he’s tired, and he doesn’t want to leave. if his message has to go through somebody else first, then so be it. he doubts hangyeom would hold it against him.

besides, he doesn’t have much else to say. he’s at a loss for words for once in his life. cat got your tongue, geon? his dad would say. he bows his head and stays like that. if his shoulders seem to shake, then nobody’s there to notice—as far as he’s concerned, he didn’t cry at all.

he’ll call that progress.

[sweet-marie]

amina cain

[wsgeon]

sunhwaws:

( ... )

“i don’t really have anywhere particular in mind– well, except for home but i don’t think either of us are making it to busan on foot.” she half-heartedly joked. she didn’t know when it happened, but she didn’t feel like seoul was a second home to her anymore. sunhwa was in her last year of university. maybe if this whole ordeal didn’t work out she could move back home and help her family out, but there was no point in planning that far ahead. she couldn’t predict how anything would turn out, so it was best to just live in the moment. 

after much internal reasoning, she was set on going. being cooped up in practice rooms until exhaustion hits was a tiring cycle and deserved a short break from it. it also didn’t hurt to have company that has proven to be harmless. “a convenience store sounds good. i don’t think i’ve been to one in a while surprisingly.” she stood up from her chair, looking at geon with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. sunhwa was grateful towards geon for the opportunity to do something different, but it was still difficult to smile when she felt unsatisfied with the way her life is. “thank you.”

“is that a challenge?” he quipped, light-hearted & grinning—busan was out of the question (and he was certain that offering to drive her there would be a little too much coming from an almost-stranger), but he still found it fun to imagine. “speak for yourself, because i competed in a triathlon once... but come to think of it, it seems like i came in last?” he laughed then, a muted sound intended to lighten the atmosphere. for now, he chose to ignore the emptiness of her smile: the ever-present voice in the back of his head reminded him that nobody liked a prier and it would be counterproductive when his sole intention was to get her mind off of her troubles, not coax them to the surface. “you shouldn’t thank me, i’m not doing much. but since you already did, you’re welcome.”

one foot in front of the other, slow steps guiding her into the hallways and towards the company’s foyer, he decided to make small talk. he couldn’t be sure if she’d prefer it over silence, but it couldn’t hurt to get to know her better. to let her talk. “you said that you’re from busan,” he repeated, tone raised ever-so-slightly at the end to signify a question, maybe, or at least intrigue. “then, how long has it been since you came to seoul?”

he considered tacking on the thought of how if she hadn’t told him, he never would’ve guessed that she was from elsewhere. but she already seemed sad enough, and mentioning the faded fingerprints of a hometown never went over well in the movies. instead, he chose to truly listen this time, rather than talking so much that his questions would have no choice but to go unanswered. mouth sealed, he held the front door open for her.

[ortali]

[wsgeon]

“I never cease to wonder at the thought that any day the course of my whole life could change with just one chance encounter.”

“that’s the beauty of life, isn’t it?”

geon lives his life surrounded by fog: even when he thinks he knows where he’s going next, he never really does. last-minute turns, missed exits, new paths forged along the way. silently, he wonders what ‘course’ sia might be referring to—what with all of his daily uncertainty, he can’t say that it’s a word he’s ever used in such context.

his hands come together and he cracks his knuckles while he thinks, pushing the thought around in his mind. he still can’t quite grasp what she means, why she’s thinking it. maybe he’s just too tired. “that’s what happened when you signed your first contract, though. the course of your life, changing before your eyes. but surely it happens more often than that, too, you know. even the smallest stone creates a ripple, or whatever that saying is.”

sighing, he adjusts his posture in his chair. spine temporarily straightens, arms raise above his head and bend until the tension in his shoulders releases and then he slouches again—further forward this time, elbows propping him up on the table separating himself from sia. “did you meet somebody new recently? why are you thinking about all that?”