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@adaiko

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cinderella.
she releases a frustrated sigh, glaring venomously at the closet of cleaning supplies before her. there is absolutely no doubt in her mind that she has finally hit rock bottom. in all her years of life, uemura aiko has never imagined herself as a maid. she had grown up with a silver spoon in her mouth; to see herself fall this low is a tragedy unfolding before her eyes.
and yet here she is, tying an apron around her waist as she gathers her cleaning supplies. working for bang chulsuk is easy money despite the alternative payment of shoes in the past. it is still an incident that raises questions in aikoâs mind, but she blows her bangs out of her face and tells herself to get started, surveying the house with a look of dismay. it is almost as if a tornado has ripped through the penthouse. aiko curses bang chulsuk in her mind.
despite this, though, she begins to work. aiko finds herself in a steady rhythm, going from one room to another until she stops just in front of chulsukâs office. it is the one room that she has been forbidden to enter. since day one she has been curious about the room and its contents. glancing left to right, aikoâs hand hovers over the doorknob.
âhey, bang chulsuk,â she calls, âare you inside?â
@adchulsuk
he is the first thing she notices in the dim lighting of the party; there is an air about him that demands everyoneâs attention, and an immediate surge of dislike washes over aiko. perhaps it is because she sees her old self in himâthe expensive clothes, that rich attitude. itâs like looking at the past. aiko hates it.
and five shots later sheâs crossing the room to where heâs standing, her lip curling in a sneer as she approaches him.
âhey.â she says over the loud music, eyes narrowing, âyou look like such a spoiled brat, do you know that?â
@adshua
since exams are coming up (and itâs my last year of high school so i rly gotta pull) iâm going to be taking a hiatus until friday, june 30th. i swear i havenât forgotten about the 24985792879428 starters i owe and i promise iâll reply to messages when iâm back!

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âi see you everyday,â aiko says, rolling her eyes. âiâm almost immune to your disgusting fashion sense now.â she flashes a brief smile to show sheâs joking, and then proceeds to lift the bag in her hands.
âyou forgot your lunch,â she states as she waves it in misunâs face. she sets it down on the counter next to misunâs work, the odd instruments catching her eye. aiko tilts her head to the side. curiosity begins to take hold of her.
âwhat are you doing?â she questions, leaning down to look at the fabric under the microscope. aikoâs eyes brighten and she looks to misun with a rare excitement: âcan i watch you for today? please? i donât have work and itâs so boring when iâm alone at home. and iâve always wondered about what you do! misun? is that a yes?â
abduction.
âhave i seen you somewhere before?â
it is the first thing that slips out of aikoâs mouth; she cringes at her lack of conduct, especially to a paying customer, but the feeling of familiarity without particularly knowing why gnaws at her mind.Â
she narrows her eyes, continuing to outline the image of a knife below haniâs rib cage. for a brief moment aiko looks up, assessing her customerâs face skeptically. she knows sheâs seen her somewhere before, but she canât quite recall where.
âare you an actress?â aiko inquires, concentration straying from her task at hand. the needle hovers just above haniâs skin as aiko awaits a response. âmodel? ulzzang? idol? i really feel like iâve seen your face somewhere.â she blows a strand of hair away from her eyes, frustration holding a tight grasp on her as she tries to remember. she thinks back to the last few movies and shows sheâs seen, then users on social media, then acquaintances, then pictures, and thenâ
âi got it!â aiko exclaims, relief flooding through her. âyou look like a girl on this missing poster thatâs been circulating around seoul for a while. i keep seeing them; theyâre everywhere. but thatâs not you, is it?â
@adhcni
what happens in seoul
a white light flashed before aikoâs eyes followed by a searing pain. she crouched down, hands pressed over her face as she willed the throbbing to go away.
âwhat the hell?â she snapped, venom dripping from her voice. sheâd only been trying to help the girl outâsheâd seen how disgusting those pigs had been and she hated it. and yet aiko was the one to receive their punishment. she let out a bitter laugh just as she felt blood trickling out of her nose. hands still poised over her face, ribbons of the crimson fluid seeped between her fingers.
âwow, thanks, iâm fine,â she replied irritably. her obvious discomfort said otherwise but she stood up regardless, eyes sweeping over her assaulter with minor curiosity. throwing a punch was easy, but throwing a good punch? that was a different story altogether. intrigued, aiko tilted her head to the side. this girl was stronger than she looked.
she waited for the nosebleed to stop before wiping her hands on her jacket. extending her hand, a smile made its way to her mouth. she wondered if this girl would reciprocate her gesture despite the dried blood on her palms.
âuemura aiko. tattoo artist,â she introduced. âand who exactly are you?â

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My longing was ruby-colored. I wore it around my neck, and everything was drunkenness and dance, every day a kind of drowningâ
Zeina Hashem Beck, from âI Dreamt We Threw Bread Crumbs,â Louder Than Hearts: Poems (Bauhan Pub, 2017) Â Â Â (via metaphorformetaphor)
make me love again.
a strand of hair falls over her face; with her wrist she sweeps it away, eyes trained on jaehyunâs back.
âof course i can fix it,â she says, unwavering and firm. she has never seen a scar this deep before, but she is confident in her words and confident in her talent. leaning against the counter, aiko studies jaehyunâs expression carefully. there is something unsettling about the look in his eyes, something not quite right, and suddenly she feels miles away from himâwhat is he thinking about right now? the urge to know whatâs haunting him overwhelms her to the point of frustration.
âare you sure you want it covered, though?â she inquires, staring blatantly at the scar running down his back. she may be able to cover the physical blemish, but can she conceal the memories attached to it? she knows she is broaching a delicate subject, but the curiosity burns her throat and the question permeates the air before she can stop herself: âwhat happened?â clasping her hands together stiffly, aiko stares intently into jaehyunâs eyes. this sudden impulse to know everything about him, start to finish, surges over her once more like a series of ocean waves and she canât quite decipher why she feels this wayâall she knows is that she wants to hold on to it.
âyou should tell me,â she says, voice softening. âcome on, jaehyun, how did you get a scar like that?â
My hands are full of ash. I burn down everything I touch.

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make me love again.
it starts off as curiosityâa minor form of entertainment to pass the time. from the moment she meets lee jaehyun, aiko knows that there is something interesting about him. perhaps it is the scars that mark his body, or the strange feeling of heartbreak that seems to emanate from within his entire being. aiko finds herself immersed in her wonder for him: how come he has so many scars? why does he want them concealed? what does he do for a living? who is lee jaehyun, truly?
and as she pours her heart and soul into every scar she covers, aiko discovers that he bears stigmas that she cannot see. they linger inside his heart, hardly detectable but always there and it is only because of her own broken heart that she is able to identify this. but she canât do anything about them. she canât make them disappear. she canât tattoo over them, and this realization begins to bother her more than it should. suddenly the curiosity clouding over aikoâs mind turns into something different, something more.
and she does not realize it yet, but that âsomethingâ is love.
@adjaehyun