Indefinite Hiatus.

She made sure to study the other female’s expressions, getting lost in thoughts. “I don’t know, maybe you’re right.”, a low chuckle escaped her lips as she let her arms slowly drop, hands carefully being placed on the girl’s neck, pulling her down, letting her head rest against her shoulder. “Don’t make me decide difficult things in the morning…”, she croaked, fingers gently brushing through her hair. She admired how it was messy, but still looked good. That never happened to herself. “How about… Five more minutes?”

is it my heart chewed up, bleeding

or my soul, scarred, mortified

that lived in illusions, for the good has long died? 

Clear unmistakable frown possessing pale face. Eyes burning. Ara looked at the female, something undefined was exchanged between them. Perhaps whispers of fairy tales, or tragic memories of malicious stories that should be never spoken? Neither was aware. But there was indeed something. Ara was not bothered by it, she figure out with time. “If mine is to come? What if I am no longer living, what if I am already burried? What if nothing but a mere corpse is standing in front of you, pulling you in the illusions , smartly fooling you?”

She sighed, shook her head. Then smile appeared on plump lips.

“I shall ask you to not question me. You are beautiful, as well. And you have to stay as you are. Take care of yourself and do not dwell on unnecessary questions, that may put you in a great danger. I demand your understanding…”

Are we not all dead anyway?

Living is perdition, after disillusionment, we discover life is an endless yearning for more and more. There is nothing left waiting, nothing but first-hand humiliation, forcing ourselves into an incessant cycle of slave-contracts and a dream of a love that just doesn’t fucking exist in the shit-stained reality. 

( ... because even a corpse can feel. )

“Then we are all fooling each other. But that’s nothing new, precious.” Spoke the ex-idol with a wry smile. “Are we not masters of deceit at this age, already? We are liars, and we lie to ourselves, too. We are so good at it, we don’t even fucking know we’re being deceived.”

Ignorance is bliss, wouldn’t you like to know? 

“What greater danger is there? When one is no longer afraid of death.” Nimble digits sifted through the wisps of pale hair, “We are waiting for the inevitable, and something’s just might bring us closer to that ... inevitable. What does that matter?” 

Surprise.

She was legitimately shaking on her legs, the fight against tears getting harder with each second that she stood in the door frame. She struggled, it was hard to just look at Taeyeons face, it was hard to not break down and pull her into her arms (or what was left of them).

Her gaze dropped to the floor upon feeling a nudge to her calf. She wondered what was going through her pets’ brains right now. They seemingly were the actual opposite to her, tails wagging, rushing in and out of the house as if to invite their old friend in to catch up. She wasn’t sure if it angered her, if she just wanted to become a dog, or if she wanted to at least follow their example and let Taeyeon - or whatever name she went by now - back into the mess that was her apartment as well as an accurate depiction of what she had become. But she couldn’t, not just yet. 

With every word the other spoke, Sooyoungs walls dropped. Simply because the familiarity of her voice was still something she felt safe around, no matter how far gone she was herself, simply because this still was the person who’d kept her from losing it completely before. Insults were her way of coping, a way of trying to see if the other was sincere in wanting to be here and honestly, the reaction she got was the last nudge she needed for a scarce amount of tears to make their way down shrunken cheeks.

“Are you, really?” 

As much as she wanted to trust her, she had to keep her guard up. Last time she trusted her, she’d ended up being wrong and as much as she wanted to forgive her, it was incredibly hard. 

Thin fingers reached up to wipe at her eyes as she stepped back, the unspoken invitation for the other to come in carrying a lot of extra weight simply because it’s Sooyoung and her room reflected the mess her life had become. 

She tugged down the sleeve that had crawled up as she wiped her eyes, blinking a few times at the other before her lips parted for her to speak once more.

“Let’s talk…” 

The dog’s invitation were not sufficient, and all this while, Erika’s misery sought for reprieve. Ineptitude conjured an intrepid motion, circumventing the exhibit of internal proclivity. Elastic fingers curled at her sides, yearning for a time when life was simpler. 

( But nothing is simple now. )

Salinity descended, Erika’s hands lifted, wanting to wipe them away; a habitual drive, but they stopped, static in the air. She could not simply return to the way they were before; betrayal cracked docility, and the right to do as she wished could not persist, even if she demanded to. 

( Recovery was slow; and she had to allow for Soo’s renascence. )  “Of course I am.” She leaned forward, reaching for Soo’s wrists. Fuck, they’re so tiny. What happened to you? Yet still, she never passed the invisible barrier, did not want to confront repudiation of what she was now. Deceiving herself that there was a path to abatement was an attribute developed over the years she’d taken away. 

“Okay.” There wasn’t any hesitation, she stepped over the excitable dogs into her ex-bandmate’s abode. Yet, something within her dawned ‘pon her, one spontaneous moment and she’s thrown a constraints of an embrace at the girl who’d known a whole fucking lot about the darkness in her soul.

( There’s no turning back now. )

Or maybe it was to conceal the tears scarring her cheeks. Erika tightened her grip on Sooyoung’s too-frail body. 

Lips were parted as she drew in a deep breath soon when the sweet sound of her friend voice filled the room which previously was surrounded by silence,thus a genuinely smile has been glued over her lips,was a pleasure to have Erika around,however rather she seems to be really caught in what her friend was saying and she stares  with big eyes,a sparkle of amazement has been left to wander in them,with a  mellow  tone  she murmured only after her friend says the last sentences’‘Woah !’’

 Her hands were brought up just  to applaud her friend,loud noises comes of her due of the enthusiasms “

‘’You leave me speechless,ah you always speak in such a way,which is enough to touch my soul’’

“Honestly, Hyosung, I learned from the best.” riposte depart’d rose, tingled into blossoms and something sweet. She was origin of Erika’s occasional altruism; without the benignant constant that Hyosung was, Erika’s cognitions would have delved into depravity, the same nebulosity that she’d dragged her feet through. “I don’t need an applause though.” Modesty, bemusement coloured ashen countenance, “They say true beauty is the way to make inspire an artist. Let’s just say, you, my dear friend, are a source of inspiration for me.”

She had never expected to get another blow of this size. They had promised that they’d stay together as eight when Sooyeon left, and Sooyoung clung to the promise like no one else.

She didn’t think the promise would be as empty as Taeyeon, the leader, for crying out loud, being the first one to throw in the towel. Sooyoung remembered the times she’d cried  to her, the times she’d begged to just be held close, to just be reassured that she was not going to leave her, too. But time had told her it was all a lie.

The blow had come when Sooyoung was at her all-time lowest. She’d started distancing herself, barely came outside of her apartment anymore, barely let anyone in. It was familiar, except now there was no Taeyeon to help her through, and the other members… she couldn’t bother them with her own weaknesses, the blow had hit them just as hard. 

The knocks on the door to her apartment caused her to tense up. It was a special kind of knock, a code, almost. Her dogs were quick to rush to the door, but Sooyoung hesitated. She slid her arms into a jumper, just to hide the messy drawings of bruises she’d managed to draw upon herself, to hide most of her skin as she knew she’d lost her shine, her body having been brought back to a size on which she could barely survive. 

The small poodle walked back to her, barking as if to wake her up from her thoughts. A quiet sigh passed through her lips as she moved over, hand trembling as she reached the doorknob, opening it ever so slightly. 

The person was familiar, more than familiar, but she couldn’t help to feel like she was looking at a stranger. She opened her mouth to say something, struggling to not just break down into a crying mess for the gazillionth time. 

Show no emotion, don’t let them see that you’re in pain.

“Bitch.”

She looks terrible.

The guilt swallowed her in a wave of howling ghouls and inevitable torment. If there was anyone she should not have left, should have informed of her departure... it would have been Sooyoung. Sweet, fragile Sooyoung. A static quality consum’d her frame; a carnality of instinct scoring pink lines across her soul. A few years ago, perhaps, she would have wept. Would have fallen ‘pon the rupture for forgiveness. Yet here, today, she’s more stoic than she ever was. 

Existence without an identity did a number on her; the sallow grey under her eyes, the dispirit in her gaze. Erika had changed. Erika wasn’t Taeyeon. And, frankly, whether that was for the better was an inscrutability within itself. 

“Sooyoung -- I.”

( So why could she not verbalise the apology seared to her tongue? )

‘Sorry,’ wasn’t sufficient for the ineluctable salinity that had scorched Soo’s cheeks. Erika’s stained fingers combed through the bleached hair; the condition of it was terrible (she could not even afford to pay for a professional).

It hurt. 

‘Bitch.’

Am I a bitch? Erika almost stumbled away, the yearning to dissipate, to fade and become nothingness froze the motion in her veins. Her eyes hardened, traversed into something steely, something akin to the demise and the tenebrosity she bore witness to all this time. 

( Anyone could see the torment that tortured her each eventide. )

It starts with one drop, two, three...what began as a light shower progressed into something of the torrential definition. But she remained lulled, seated at the trunk of the sheltering tree. It’s eventide, the lackadaisical gleam of lunar rays set alight the entire park with a silver fluoresce, the sight was one to behold. Erika rolled her head back, letting it rest against the rough bark as peace simmered in a slow meander.

There were few occasions to which she could truly feel at ease in the vehemence of contemporary society -- everyone is too used to trying to get by, trying to get food on their plates, trying to fall in love and have children before we ultimately decompose six-feet-under and regret staining our lips. 

( Because that’s all we learn, and it’s all we know. The recommended principles of ‘living’ are as a free as a canary bird in a cage. )

Funny, huh?

Their pained exchange, the tears that had fallen in lamenting descent had done nothing for Erika’s eventual departure. Truth be told, she never thought she’d be the type to abandon them all; especially after Sooyeon’s renouncement of sisterhood, of something that tied them together more than the spilled blood.

( This reunion would be tear her heart more than the previous. ) 

Ambivalence pour’d forth the torn vessels that constructed her so feebly, fingers shook as they formed a fist. Knuckles of pallor rapped against wood; and her teeth seized her lip, drawing crimson. 

( Why so scared? Because owning up to your mistakes is fucking hard. Few people can do it; few people have the strength to do it. Yet, Erika wasn’t strong, but she had to rescue this girl, at least. )

But don’t call me Taeyeon; I’m not Taeyeon any more. 

Usually, she’d wake up early if there was someone else with her. Maybe it was the excitement of waking up next to someone or just her body not being used to it. She had to accept that sometimes it was annoying to lay next to someone who’s asleep. You’ll have to pretend being a corpse, trying to not make a sound, just so the other won’t wake up. But that was only if she cared about the other person enough. This time seemed to be different, though. Moonbyul woke from the soft sound of a “good morning” being said to her, also she felt like her face had been tickled before, so she opened one eye, making out the blurry contour of Erika. She closed that eye again, arms slowly raising as she stretched them over her head, murmuring; “Good morning to you, too. How come I outslept you, hm?”

For days on end her mind had become desolate, destroyed by the power of other thinking. Physical pains had progressed in the forms of headaches and she had spent the remaining free seconds of the day picking at the ruins of her thoughts, attempting to salvage any positive notion which remains. 

Out of this behaviour she is jerked back into reality. Plush lips are compressed into a thin line, slight burrowing between the brow a depiction of perplexity. Her features remain hard, stoic. 

“Taste them? They’re not a snack you can devour.” Yet her retort is absent in the usual snarky emphasize. It falls flat, emotionless and understated. There is no real fight to her words, only an underlying curiosity. After all, her mind is a mess and even the simplest things have become difficult to comprehend.  She can question this, right? “Tell me, what is so tempting about my lips?”

Laughter. Erika’s laughter is harsh and crackled, like dying embers (because we all die, and ain’t that an ironic tale to tell.) For a transience she took the opportunity to observe, cynicism is an acerbic humouring ability adolescents gain as they sauntered into adulthood. 

(She’d forgotten people could respond, could deny, could refute her demands. Unlike before.)