News sites (1-Naver, 2-Nate, 3-Daum)
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Harper was curling her almost-broken earphones’ cable with her fingers as she entered the flashy chapel. She walked in looking at her hands and the floor, until she got to the first row of seats and noticed that it wasn’t empty. A – possibly natural, though unlikely – red head was sitting in the middle of the bench, looking down.
“Hi…?” Harper said.
The girl looked up and smiled. “Hello.”
“Who are you? You know this isn’t an actual church, right?”, she told her.
“Yeah, I do. It was the first thing I found and I just went in”, she responded, and continued as Harper was looking at her in curiosity, “My name is Maeve.”
“Wow, that’s a really beautiful name”
Harper also wanted to say “Wow, you’re hot”, but kept it to herself to avoid scaring a stranger.
“Yeah, I get that a lot”, she replied as she looked down, “What’s your name?”
“I like that name”, she said, making Harper giggle when she realized she and a stranger were very casually complimenting each other’s names.
“What are you doing here though?”, Harper asked.
“What are you doing here?”, she replied.
“I don’t know if you saw him, but there’s a man dressed up like Elvis Presley here who officiates marriages. That’s my dad. My family owns this place. You know, this totally not real chapel for people who freak out while planning big weddings and decide to put an end to it and elope. I kinda like it though, it gives me the vibe that my family does good deeds. Plus, it truly makes me feel like I live in Vegas.”
“Well, you don’t have to do something Vegas-like to feel like you do live in Vegas. I don’t do any Vegas things. I don’t gamble – I mean, I’m underage and too lazy to get into that kind of trouble, I don’t drink – same thing about being underage, I’m just.. basic”, Maeve responded.
Harper laughed. “Who are you though?”
Continue reading “A little bit closer (Short Story)”
“Audrey?”, Melissa called, entering the tent and shutting its little door reluctantly.
She was working on her article rapidly, intending to finish the first part and send it to Mrs. Watson. Melissa’s voice, however, didn’t interrupt the process and she kept writing, absent-minded. It has been a long day and their work was only halfway done, but Audrey wouldn’t stop until every single line was perfect and accurate.
“Audrey?” Mellisa’s voice peered again into their small, cluttered tent. “There’s something I need to tell you…”, she announced, but Audrey winced and turned around slowly. “Give me a minute, this darn thing is lagging again and I’m not having it! I need to get this done until my battery dies. Did you bring me some sort of power source? If that’s not what you’re here for, I don’t wanna hear it”, she told her, alongside the sound of her small fingers tapping on the keyboard briskly.
“The World War has started”, she said, with uncontrollable fear in her voice.
Audrey smirked, without cease of her keyboard tapping. “No shit. They’ve been fighting for a while, honey. That’s why we’re here.”
“No, you don’t get it”, she replied. “Gordam declared war on Yoon. Their president was on TV just now. You know what that means.”
Audrey knew what it meant. Gordam, the country they were in for a documentary, was part of a major international alliance, but so was Yoon, another nation. A war declaration from either of those two towards the other would automatically lead to a war between their alliances as well. But Audrey knew it had yet to happen.
“This is not the right time for jokes, for heck’s sake. Now get me to a power source, I’ve got one line left”, she uttered.
“God damn it, Audrey. I know how you act when you’re working on something, but you need to cut this out. This is serious shit.”
Audrey chuckled. “Check CNN. Go ahead”. She followed, sighing as she opened another tab, alongside one for her email, and typed in cnn.com. “I’ll be damned”, she muttered.
“Told you.” Audrey turned around, gasping. She looked at Melissa’s now upset expression and said, “What are we gonna do?”. “I’ve no clue. You’re my boss, you decide”, she replied. “Screw that, we need to figure this out! … Where are Tony and Seth? Do they know about this?”. “They do, we saw it together on TV. They’re gone”, she sighed. “What?!”, Audrey cried. “The hell are we gonna do then?”, she asked, but got no immediate response. She then remembered the van they were taken there with, staring at the tent’s wall beside the door, trying to find its outline. “Let’s take that car!”, she exclaimed.
“Are you nuts?! This is not some action movie, you can’t just steal a car. Plus, we can’t do shit if it’s locked and doesn’t even have a key in the ignition”. “How do you know it doesn’t?”, Audrey asked, leaving Melissa speechless. “Pack your stuff, I’ll go check”, she eventually said. Melissa hurriedly ran outside and peered onto the van’s front windows in the dusk, trying to locate the ignition, then moving to her right, to get better visualization. A rocket lit up the sky, its reflection on the car’s window revealing a key inserted in the ignition. Melissa ignored the explosion sound that followed, and ran back into the tent.
“You’re right, it’s in there. But we’ve got another problem. Where are going?”
Audrey froze, with her bag in her hands. “Fuck”, she muttered. They had been placed by a military base, at Gordam’s border, 124 miles way from the nearest city. “There’s nowhere else we can drive to besides another city, because this is a god damn peninsula. We need to get to a port. Or an airport”, she stated. “Where’s the nearest one?”
“Don’t ask me, you’re the one with the computer”. Audrey winced and took out her laptop that she’d just packed in a bag, turning it on. “Give it a second”. They waited until the machine booted and Audrey opened a map of their area. “Thank God, there’s one nearby. Half an hour tops. Let’s pack everything up and go.”
“Um … Audrey..”
“We both drank at dinner earlier. We can’t drive. I mean, I sure can’t”. Audrey stopped packing and looked up at her assistant. “I’ll do it, It’s fine. At this point, we’ll either die from a bomb explosion, a soldier shooting us, or getting into a car crash. Either way, we won’t make it out of this so cut the crap, pack your shit, maybe take another drink for the adrenaline, and let’s get the hell out of this hell hole.”
Melissa stared at the journalist for a solid 20 seconds. “Okay, sorry”, she replied, starting to pack her belongings spread around the tent’s floor and its plastic impromptu desk onto the only bag she had brought from their hotel room.
“Do you have any money with you?”, Audrey asked, after searching up all her pockets. “I have a few bucks in my jeans for sure, but that’s it. Why?”. Audrey glared at her. “Right, we need money if we want to fly back. I left my stuff at the hotel, but I’m sure they accept mobile payment. We can pay by our cards, it’s fine.” Audrey shook her head in disbelief, but got back to packing, constantly peering at her desk and trying to figure out what to do with it. “Just leave it”, Melissa said, noticing.
They finally finished and sped out of the tent, settling their bags into the van’s backseats and getting in themselves. Audrey started it up, and they drove into the darkness.
“So that’s how it all started”, Audrey’s therapist, Joanne, asserted, opening up her pen and jotting down some notes. “Can’t say I’m glad it took us 4 sessions to get to this, but thanks for finally saying something.”
Audrey looked away, avoiding Joanne’s eyes, then looked down, at the chocolate milk bottle in her lap. She grabbed it and took a sip of the vodka she had hidden in the opaque bottle.
“Audrey, I know it’s hard, but let’s try to imagine her being well. Let’s stop assuming that she’s dead. She’s missing.”
Audrey smirked and shook her head. “Sure, whatever tickles your pickle”, she said, taking another sip of vodka. “Give me that”, her therapist hissed, looking at Audrey’s impromptu flask. “Why would I? It’s just chocolate milk”, she replied. But Joanne wasn’t convinced. “Cut the crap, Audrey. What do you have in there? … Do you see these?”, she pointed to her nostrils, “I can smell the alcohol.”
Audrey froze, put down the bottle from her mouth and closed the cap. “Fine. Here, I’ll just put it down and not touch it.” Joanne shook her head, got up and grabbed the bottle, then went back to her couch and sat down. She opened the cap, took a sniff and then, a sip. “I shouldn’t be surprised, because I know you make a lot of money, but this is some good shit. How much is a bottle of this stuff? One hundred? Two?”
She glared at her therapist. “Really? You’re drinking on the job?” she asked. “Please, you’re always drunk when you come here. You should thank me for not telling your doctor and lawyer or whoever that Josh guy is that I didn’t tell them. You’d be taken somewhere else. I’m doing you a favor, Ms. Johnson.” They stared at each other for a few minutes. “I guess you won’t be revealing much anymore today, huh?”. “You guessed it”, she replied. “Fine, you can go. I’ve got an ex-convict next.” Audrey got up, then turned towards Joanne and glared at her. “A real one. You know, who got convicted for an actual crime. Being in jail for an unfair reason doesn’t make you too a convict. Also, please stop coming here drunk. I hope you didn’t drive here, because I won’t let you get in a car”, Audrey sighed, “Josh is picking me up”. “Who is this Josh though?” she asked. “Let’s just say he’s my lawyer.” Audrey turned away and headed for the door. “Next time”, she said, and left.
Audrey headed for Josh’s car, awaiting her in front of Joanne’s house, and got in.
“How was it?”, he asked her. “Just don’t”, she replied. “Take me home, please”. Josh nodded and drove away. “Guess what”, he broke the silence after stopping at the first red light. “What?” she replied. “We got the Plaza Hotel!”. “No way! Congrats, man! That’s awesome”. Josh was getting married in the upcoming months to his girlfriend and had been sharing every bit of it with Audrey. “I wish she was here. We booked it for August, three months away, so maybe she’ll show up. Or crawl out of the soil like a zombie or something”, he said, starting to laugh. Audrey glared at him right away. “Oh. Too soon”, he muttered.
Josh dropped Audrey off at her new apartment in Brooklyn and, because she kept insisting, didn’t lead her up to her own doorway and drove off. She went up the stairs, unlocked her door and entered reluctantly. She had only moved in for a month and the place lacked decoration, or as Josh liked to say, “it lacked life”. She dropped her bag on the floor and started to look around. She finally understood. The place did indeed look lifeless. After moving from her previous apartment, she gave away all her belongings to charity, including some objects Melissa had been around or touched. Audrey didn’t know what to tell her if she came back and asked about her custom-made painting from her bedroom that she really loved and threatened to steal, but she knew it wouldn’t be the case, because there was no way Melissa was alive.
Audrey sat down on her couch, grabbed her laptop, and went on the Internet to look for decoration. She didn’t leave her house often and going to a big furniture store like her previously beloved IKEA didn’t seem like the best idea. After an hour of browsing, Audrey finally settled on a big vase with a fake orchid. Before making the order, she asked herself if she should look around more and buy more stuff, to fill the apartment, or maybe buy a live plant to literally bring life to her place, and pondered for a few minutes, looking around, just to press ‘Order’ and close her laptop.
The next week, she took a taxi to Joanne’s, as Josh was stuck in court with a big case. It was a rainy day and she hadn’t brought an umbrella, but it didn’t matter. She got out of the cab casually and walked up to her therapist’s house, getting in without ringing the bell.
“Surprise!”, she told Joanne.
“Cool, now you’re not even taking care of yourself. Didn’t you see the clouds? You’re dripping on my carpet, God damn it.” Audrey stepped out of it and onto the wooden floor. “Nooo, that won’t do good either. God, you’re like a child. Just get on the couch, with your legs up.” Audrey followed, and Joanne sat down on her couch.
“I’ve been thinking about your story. I want to know more about Melissa. I know it’s a sensitive topic, but we need to do this.”
New York Times’ editor in-chief, Mrs. Watson, hurried into her international news section’s manager, Audrey Johnson’s office, and dropped a file folder on her desk, heading right out. “Wait wait wait, what is this?” she asked. “CVs for your new secretary”. Audrey frowned. “I told you I don’t need one”. “Cut the crap, Audrey. I know you’re upset about Dorothy, but that won’t bring her back. Nothing will. It’s the circle of life, get used to it. Now get a damn secretary, you’ve been missing all our meetings and I’m not putting up with it anymore. Pick some CVs out of there and call them for an interview”, she ordered.
The next day, Audrey interviewed 10 potential secretaries, but dropped each and every one of them because “they were not Dorothy”, and “they looked like wimps”. After a few hours, she got to the last one. She was too sick of it all to look at her CV again, and hoped it would be an old lady. Moments later, a young, tall, fit, strawberry blonde-haired and Bambi-like blue-eyed woman stepped in. Audrey was in awe, and only after a few minutes did she realize that her mouth had actually dropped open. “Yes yes yes yes yes”, she thought to herself.
“Hi, I’m Melissa. You’re Ms. Johnson, right?”, she said, with a sweet, honey-like voice. “Yes, hi, sit down!”, Audrey replied, trying to stay calm, but instead, blurring out words without realizing. She decided to look away instead, and grabbed Melissa’s CV. “Melissa Lockwood. Hm, nice last name”, she said, starting to giggle. “Yeah, it’s my fiancé’s” she replied. “Fi-fi-fi-fiancé?”. This can’t be. Audrey tried to look at her fingers. Indeed, there was a sparkling blue diamond ring on Melissa’s ring finger. “Yeah”, Melissa replied. “Oh, congrats. When are you getting married?”, she asked, with obvious disappointment in her voice. “Sometime this year, I guess”. “Why did you use his name though? You’re not married yet.” Melissa sighed. “I sent my CV to several firms. I didn’t want them to know my identity, to avoid it getting to the press”. “You’re literally there though”, Audrey told her, making her laugh. “Oh well, I didn’t think you’d call back.”
“So what’s your deal? Why are you hiding your name?”, Audrey asked. Melissa didn’t seem willing to spill the tea. “Come on, just say it. I promise I won’t tell anyone. You can record me saying that so that when you sue me for lying, you’d have proof against me.”
“Okay, my real name in Smithson. Melissa Smithson.” Audrey gasped. “Nooo way, you’re the Smithsons’ daughter? Like, the Smithson Bank CEOs’?!” Melissa frowned. “There it is”, she said. “Oh my God, you must be loaded. What would you need a job for? You’re getting that entire business for sure”. Melissa looked down, fiddling her fingers. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean that in a bad way. Why are you here then?”. “My parents want me to take over soon. They’ve been obsessively training me for this since I was a kid. They wanted a boy, but they got this disappointment instead!”, “Why would they think of you like that, you look like a goddess”, Audrey thought to herself. “But I hated it. I did business and finance in college and I loathed it. I loathed working with them, going to meetings. But when I was little, and they were stuck in meetings, their secretary would take care of me. I liked her so much. Such a sweet lady. She passed away of old age recently, God bless her. I loved being around her, watching and following her every move. Eventually, I became a secretary’s secretary. And I loved it. I loved the prospect of that kind of job and I knew I could do it well. But my parents were against it; they didn’t want the public to know that their daughter is such a failure that she prefers such a pathetic job to being a glorious bank CEO. So I ran away from home, to my fiancé’s, and decided to get a job and make a living without the whole Smithson Bank curse following me.” Melissa sighed loudly. “Is that enough?”
Audrey was left speechless. “See that desk outside my office?” she pointed to it and Melissa looked back at it. “Yeah?”. “Come there tomorrow at 8”, Audrey said, gathering all of that day’s CVs and putting them back into the file folder they were originally in. “Wait what? So I’m hired?”, she asked, confused. “Yup. I’m the type who loses track of time and I’m always late so you’ll have to compensate. It’ll take some time to get used to, but I’ll give you all the time you need to adjust. Oh, and I want you to bring me a latte the moment in come in every morning, and each day’s paper”, she waited for Melissa to note all of her commands down. “Okay, you can go now.”
Melissa got up, greeted and left. Audrey took out her phone to avoid looking at her backside, it was already a lost cause.
Melissa opened the van’s door to get some fresh air. It had been a hot, humid day, and the fall of darkness didn’t seem to change any of that. She looked at the sky, at the stars, then turned around towards Audrey. The moonlight was shinning down her face, highlighting her profile, the dent on her nose from a childhood accident, the curve of her lips. Melissa dazed at Audrey’s features until she noticed, “What?”, she asked. “Nothing”, Melissa replied, turning back to her window and the stars. Audrey slowed down the van and put it into third gear. “God damn it, Melissa. I can’t do this anymore!”, she cried. “What do you mean?”. Audrey cackled. “This. Whatever it is”. “I told you I broke up with him”, she insisted. “For what? For me? I can’t live with that. What if you let the good one go? There’s no way you can know if this will work out!”. They didn’t talk for a few minutes, and the van’s engine was the only noise peering through their silence. “How do you know it won’t?!” she eventually replied. “Because you’re straight!”
They stood in silence again, the engine getting quiet as well, as if it was reflecting their situation. “I can’t play this game anymore, Melissa. I’m getting old. I want to settle down. Get a house, have kids, get a dog or two. I can’t play around with straight girls”. Melissa didn’t respond. “You knew what you were getting into”. “No, I didn’t. I was drunk. You kissed me back. You were more sober, you should have stopped”. Audrey rolled her eyes, “Really? You’re blaming me now? Well sorry for not thinking about your stupid fiance. Also, sorry for being attracted to you. You definitely knew what you were getting into. I wanted to start fresh. Do it for real. I can’t do that with you”. Audrey gazed at the road ahead. What was she doing? She couldn’t understand her own feelings. She didn’t know what she truly felt for Melissa, if there was anything at all. She had adjusted to working with her again, as if nothing had happened, but they both knew that a simple kiss changed everything, and their working relationship would never be the same again. They couldn’t look at each other the same, nor avoid numerous what ifs.
“So what if I’m straight?”, she asked, after another moment of silence. “Straight or not, I can still love you”. Audrey turned to her, startled, but turned back to the road. “It doesn’t mean I can’t marry you”. “I didn’t say I wanted that!”, she sighed. “Don’t. Just don’t. Turn back to your window. Let’s focus on what we’re gonna do now. Figure out how to get out of a war zone and stop toying with me”. Melissa listened and turned back to her window. “I love you”, she muttered. “For fuck’s sake, I love you too. God damn it”, Audrey replied.
“What do you wanna do once we get back home?” Melissa asked.
“I don’t know. Take a bath, probably”.
“That took an interesting turn”, Joanne remarked.
Audrey sighed, rubbed her temples, and stared down at her lap. But she had listened to Joanne, and the chocolate milk flask wasn’t there. “This is the moment where you took a drink, right?”, she asked, closing up her pen after jotting down more notes. “I’m trying to stay sober, at least for you, here. I can drink at home as much as I want”. “There it is! Good job. We’re getting somewhere”. Audrey fidgeted and scooped on the couch, to change her position. “So what was that all about?”
“Don’t. You seemed okay with the idea of one story per session. It’s done. Over. Not telling you anything else till next week”. “Look, I’ve worked with cases like yours before, you get through it. She’s not dead, for fuck’s sake, you can talk about her!”, Joanne exclaimed. “I don’t want to. I don’t feel like I have the right to”. The therapist frowned. “What do you mean? Is this about that night? You’re not even sure about all of it. Are you? Are you sure she was dead?”. “No. No, I’m not. Not at all”, she sighed. “Then talk freely”.
She headed out soon after. She refused to say anything, as she didn’t want to admit anything to herself. She walked alongside the houses and peered into their interiors, wondering what kind of people lived in there, whether their places “have life” or not. Whether their existence also depends on one big question. Audrey kept walking and turned around to look at the rest of the street. It was pretty and quiet, Melissa would’ve liked it, she thought to herself. But why would Melissa have to like it?
Melissa got to the New York Times offices at 7:58AM. Everyone was getting to work at the same time and the elevator was crowded. She was quickly surrounded by numerous unknown people. She didn’t know if any of them worked at the newspaper as well, or where they were working, or going, for that matter. She studied every person; the pregnant lady in front of her, rubbing her belly. The oddly good-looking transgender guy next to her. The suited-up old man who looked like he was about to fall asleep any minute. The stiff-looking middle-aged woman in front of her, next to the pregnant one. She got to her level, but only the middle-aged woman hopped off.
“Hi”, she said. “Hello”, Melissa replied, with a slight confusion in her voice. Noticing, the lady replied, “I’m the editor in-chief, Maria Watson. You must be Audrey’s new secretary, huh? You look familiar”. “Must be a coincidence”, she quickly responded. “And yes, that’s me. I’m Melissa Lockwood, nice to meet you”, “Nice to meet you too”, she replied, shaking hands.
“I don’t know how long you’ll be here but I have a set of rules and I want you to hear them out.” Jongin said.
After several minutes of carrying boxes, all of Soojung’s things were in Jongin’s storage room, some spread around the living room, kitchen, bathroom and closet. Although Jongin wasn’t deeply interested in fashion, he did have a quite large closet filled with various types and styles of clothing but had to make space for two formal dresses. His bathroom became much more lively with the addition of Soojung’s numerous hair products, make-up and skin care products.
“Fine, go ahead.” she responded, laying down comfortably on his couch.
“1. I can’t cook. If you can, feel free to do it, for both of us. If you can’t, don’t you dare touch anything in the kitchen. My previous roommate-”
“You’ve had another roommate?”
“Let me finish!”
Soojung listened and lay back on the couch.
“He almost set fire to the apartment and ever since I don’t let anyone unexperienced cook anything, excluding myself.”
Soojung giggled and took out her phone.
“Hey! Pay attention. Here we go, number 2. No flirting.”
“What?! I’m not even attracted to you. Do you think I’m that kind of woman?”
“Good, I’m not attracted to you either. Number 3, clean up after yourself, and that includes hair left in the bathtub. Gross.”
“I bet you leave hair too.”
“False. And that gets us to number 4: be nice to me, i’m doing this for you because I’m a kind person” Soojung bursts in laughter but Jongin continues “I’ll kick you out if you say bad things to me.” He sits down next to her and gets close to her face, leaving only a few centimeters between their lips. “Number 5: if I get drunk and do this, slap me. I do not consider you attractive and have no intention of any kind of intimacy.” Then he stands up and goes to the kitchen.
“Fair enough.” she said. “But can I have any kind of rules?”
Soojung glared at him but he didn’t react and started up his coffee machine to make his usual expresso.
“My mom owns a restaurant and taught me how to cook when I was a teenager, I can cook for you. Is there anything you’d like to have for dinner?”
“Well I wasn’t expecting that.. um, let’s see. I’m craving some spaghetti, can you make me some of that?”
“Do you have any of the ingredients?”
“Probably not, I’ll give you money. You can go downstairs at a supermarket and get whatever you need.”
“Interesting, you can actually cook.” Jongin remarked after finishing his spaghetti. “I’ve got some French wine that’s been waiting to be opened for 3 years, wanna give it a try?”
“What’s up with you?” she asked.
“I felt like it goes well with this kind of dinner. You know, I grew up in a quite respectable family where I was taught valuable things like that.”
Soojung glared and him and got up to clean the dishes.
“Hold on, let me get it.” he said, running into his storage room and coming out several minutes later with the wine bottle.
“Take out some glasses.” he told her while trying to open the bottle. “I like to fill up glasses when it comes to wine, it helps you sleep.” and he poured it in the glasses.
“I don’t know how well I can take alcohol..” Soojung said, deciding to stare at her glass until further notice.
“Why are you looking at it like that? It’s not poison.”
Unless.., Soojung thought to herself.
“Okay, well, how about we watch a movie if you’re going to take so long to drink a glass of wine? Or better said, how about all 11 seasons of Grey’s Anatomy? Have you pulled an all-nighter before?”. Soojung is suddenly taken aback by Jongin’s ability to make longer statements, as non-sense they might be, and starts laughing. “That doesn’t answer my question!”, he then added.
After dinner, without consulting Soojung first, Jongin decided to help her finish her glass of wine to Grey’s Anatomy. The whole atmosphere of the first episode reminded Jongin of his former job and seeing Soojung’s lack of interest in the show made him decide to tell her about it.
“Funny story, I actually used to be a doctor”, he said, getting her attention right away.
“Wait, really? What happened, did you quit or something?”
“Yes, I did. It was really stupid, now that I think of it. I quit after my first month as an intern. I threw away 5 years of medical school just like that, as hard as it might be to believe-”
“It’s not”, Soojung butted in.
“I just couldn’t take it. I mean, these people, on this show, are actors. That’s not reality. Or maybe it’s like that in the States, I can’t know. The pressure was insane and I never considered myself squeamish until a few days into it. Seeing people bleed and vomit like I drink water was just too much.”
“You sound like a little girl”, she replied, making Jongin regret sharing his story.
The show went on and Soojung slowly worked her way to the bottom of her glass of wine, flinching when Meredith Grey started making out with Derek and hoping Jongin didn’t notice. Taking longer to Soojung but not so much to the secret fan Jongin, the first episode ended.
“Should we keep going?” he asked her, getting up to fill his glass with wine for the third time.
“Are you talking about the drinking or the show?”
“Ha-ha-ha. I’m talking about the show. Should I play the second episode? And if you want, I can fill up your glass as well.”
“Yeah, sure”, she replies, then Jongin plays the episode and grabs the bottle to fill up Soojung’s glass. In a blink of an eye, Jongin found himself closer to Soojung’s face than he had ever been. They both froze, allowing Jongin to look at her small face, sparkling eyes and red lipstick-wearing lips. For a second, he thought to himself, why not? but it didn’t last long, as Soojung kissed him first. What followed were another 20 seconds of hesitating and awkward silence, until Jongin decided to take the lead and kiss her neck, working his way up to her forehead, then returning to her lips. For another second, he asked himself if he looked goofy from her lipstick which was, most likely, spread around his lips like a woman who was putting on lipstick in a car which stopped abruptly at a stoplight.
Soojung then took the lead again and repeated Jongin’s face kissing, spreading her red lipstick over it. Unexpectedly, Jongin slowly placed his hand on her shirts’ collar, intending to unbutton it.
Ok (1) this is a little different but I’m posting this stuff here because I’m not gonna make another blog for this and (2) I’m re-posting this stuff here because Daum made my pics seemingly smaller on my blog there so.. yeah
How about a little fan account though before the pics? I haven’t written anything, so..
Okay so most importantly, I was not a fan of the group before the concert. Hell, I actually got my ticket a week before. I mostly wanted to go only to meet a good friend (if you’re reading this, ILU♥). But I decided to watch their music videos, read their profiles, maybe download their albums.. since, well, I was going to attend their concert. One of them stood out for me, that dammed foreigner, Sam. That bastard. So anyways, the day of the concert came and I got to the venue. Stuff was great, I met my friend, sat next to her, buuut the main issue was the unbearable heat inside. Good lord, it’s less hot in a freaking microwave. This proved to be an issue for the boys as well but we’ll get to that later. Damn, I’m feeling quite talkative today.
So they came up on stage and people totally lost it while I was just casually taking out my camera and trying to take a picture. Well, flash went off aaaaand this is what i got
You can…kinda see one of them
“Umm..thanks. Do you happen to be the girl in this picture?”
“You know, the simple fact that you had a polaroid of a girl you don’t know personally in your portfolio was quite creepy. But asking this is-”
“So is it you?” he asked, ignoring her comment.
Soojung looked around and noticed people stopping and thinking they were fighting.
Read the prologue here
Photographer Kim Jongin just arrived at the Incheon airport, back from Jeju Island. He desperately tries to find the person or the office in charge of lost objects but ends up getting lost. He eventually found the female employee whose name he couldn’t remember and went straight to her.
“Umm..I lost something a few days ago, is there any chance I can find it?” he asks, looking down at her name tag and wanting to smile at the memory of her name.
“I can call the lost-and-found section and ask them about it, but I should know what it is first, if you don’t mind.” she replies coldly.
“Cells divide in two ways: a direct one, where they….”
“Amber…don’t fall asleep before me!” Krystal murmurs at me.
“I’m wide awake.”
“Yeah right, with your eyes closed and your head onto your desk. Makes a lot of sense.” she says.