"just be yourself, okay? because when you do, it’s impossible not to love you."

                    although the elder’s past words from moments ago left his heart knocking with admiration, this one has done its worst. michael feels as if his heart might burstㅡ profoundly, its worse to even conclude that he might begin to feel things. he’s not a great concealer for all emotions being of romantic sap, he realizes this, so he keeps to himself on being reserved. especially with being aware of his past. michael figures that perhaps, godfrey’s still disfigured over sunye.

                    twenty nine years old, a charming man who only succeeds by doing what he does best, and he’s literally got the whole world encircled in his arms.

                   … michael, however, was the total opposite. twenty three, a black american; foreignerㅡ ( in which his heart drops when people make open remarks ) and not so successful. well; maybe by a bit; just as he’s climbing up on a ladder to fulfill his achievements.

"Michael...," he chuckled quietly, voice growing quiet once more as sleep attempted to claim him. "You don't need to thank me so much. Really, you should give yourself more credit. I haven't done that much. I gave you the job, Michael, but you did the rest," he insisted softly, pulling his blankets up around his shoulders.

Godfrey willed himself to stay awake, but sleep tugged at the edges of his consciousness. "Mikey, thank you for doing what you do for me. I couldn't ask for a better photographer... or friend." Michael truly had become one of his closest friends - as unexpected as the friendship was, the two had clicked immediately. Godfrey had spent multiple days sitting in on Michael's photoshoots, bringing the younger strawberries and cream, helping him choose pictures.... He was used to flitting around the studio, helping whoever might need it, but Michael was always the one that he lingered on.

                    click.

                    his heart skips a beat when he hears the other’s voice; rich in bassㅡ yet suttle, and dripping with an attractive tone that indicates that godfrey, too, must be very sleepy. his nerves suddenly are shot, and michael draws circular patterns into his sheets to keep from having clammy palms. he chuckles airily, quiet enough just to avoid awakening his dearest roomate. “yeah, um, about that,” michael began, contemplating on his selection of words. godfrey always left him speechlessㅡ no matter how many times michael rehearsed his initial reactions and expected replies. it’s always been a difficulty to speak for himself. he doesn’t know if it’s the respect that the elder has earned himself, or whether it’s otherwiseㅡ perhaps even something else.

                    bottom line, michael’s heart has always been stuck in his throat.

                    “sillyㅡ the big day of tomorrow is within a few hours! tomorrow is a whole set of another twenty-four hours, godfrey.” michael tries to create a lightweight atmosphere, even between the two; and being over the phone. “long story short, i can’t seem to fall asleepㅡ and. . i think i could reason with why i can’t,” he confessed, quickening his pace with the circle drawing into his sheets.

                    he pauses before speaking any longer, straining himself to keep from bombarding godfrey with his livelihood of occasional stress. michael’s index stops creating rings into his solid colored sheets, unfolding his fingers to sprawl out. the pale moonlight shone over his dark hand, and he watches his skin luminate in the natural light of the moon at two am.

The other's selfless concerns brought a smile to Godfrey's lips. He pulled his knees to his chest, feet burrowing under his blankets. He wasn't surprised in the slightest, honestly. A sigh passed his lips, and he reached a hand up to rub at his temples in an attempt to force his heavy eyelids to stay open.

"Michael, hey, it's too early in the morning for you to be thinking like this." The smile didn't seem to want to leave his lips, and part of him was quite glad that he wasn't face to face with Michael. He didn't understand how his best photographer could be the most worried. If there was anyone that Godfrey wasn't worried about, it was Michael.

He cleared his throat, hoping to not sound quite so groggy. "Mikey... you're too sweet for your own good. But please don't worry about that. You're a wonderful photographer, probably my best. You're amazing at what you do. And hey, you have a great new wardrobe now, right?" A soft laugh bubbled past his lips, and he reached a hand up to rake through his sleep-tousled locks. The younger's concern was endearing, really - that and his heavily-accented Korean.

                    hazy eyes were clouded with early morning exhaustion, dried lips and a throat clawing at a sudden thirst for waterㅡ he woke himself from a blank world of dreams. somehow, he has gotten his hands to palm against the aching sockets of his eyes; in circular motions to ease the lack of moisture. turning over on the other side of the bed, he rotates his alarm clock to check in with the time. not that he figured it to be nowhere around nine in the morning ( as it was usually dark outsideㅡ ) he wasn’t stunned to find what time it was. deep set hues of brown eyes lazily glazed over the bright, neon, pixelated numbersㅡ and a quiet puff of air leaves his thin lips. michael stares into the clock, as if there was nothing else in the world but to stare. besides, what else was there really to do around two-twenty-six am?

                    even if exhaustion inhabits his current state, the stressing emotion is aching throughout every bone of his body. michael turns over in bed again, laying flat on his back. his eyes, this time, stare into the ceilng. when he stares long enough, the dots and specks form into aligning linesㅡ and then, pictures. there’s another feeling knocking against his leisurely-paced set of heartbeats, and he let’s it settle beneath his ribcage. anxiety. never been the first to have welcomed a startling form of pained anticipationㅡ and wrecking nervousness, he sighs. pulling at the hefty covers to let it rest against his nose, michael closes his eyesㅡ attempting to block whatever that came to mind.

                    seoul fashion week. photography; in charge of most of the visual publicationㅡ it was too late to think about all these things otherwise, so it came to him in a night of crashing unstability.

                                        the cover slides a little below the bridge of his nose, and he places his palms over his forehead; then the eyes. a mantra of curses purposely trails from his lipsㅡ but not the typical words consisting of foul language. more like a set of hushed “oh no’s”, and “nopes.”

Though the company had been going only a short three years, they had been invited to fashion week each year, and this year was no different. But now, they had even more beautiful models, more talented photographers... and everything would go perfectly.

That sense of relaxation was likely what put Godfrey to sleep so easily that night. He wasn't worried. He was anxious, yes, and ready to get going. But he wasn't scared. He knew that his employees would do a wonderful job and bring fame to the Gao name. He had no doubts in his mind about it.

His peaceful sleep was interrupted by his phone ringing, which nearly didn't wake him up. A yawn tugged at his lips, and he reached a hand up to scratch his cheek. It wasn't time to get up yet, he knew; the lack of light in the room told him as much. He reached over for his phone, narrowing his eyes slightly as he opened them. Who could be calling him this early in the morning?

Godfrey squinted his eyes against the sudden bright light of the screen, the slight pout on his lips morphing into a smile as he read the name. "Michael," he smiled sleepily, pressing the receiver to his ear. He rolled over onto his back, pulling himself up in bed as not to fall asleep on the  young man. Of all of Godfrey's employees, Michael was easily his closest. The one Godfrey got along with the best.

Taking care of the younger man was effortless. Michael appreciated each and every motion so profoundly, and it was definitely charming. Were it anyone else calling him at two in the morning, he probably would have been annoyed. But not this time.

His thoughts were disrupted by a fist suddenly connecting with his cheek, and he cried out sharply, falling backwards into the sand. He gaped slightly, cupping his cheek in his hand. All he could think was damn, this guy could hit. He couldn't find it in himself to be angry, though. He didn't know what had even happened, but he could tell by now that the man wasn't in a good state.

Godfrey recollected himself, trying to ignore the already throbbing pain in his cheek. This was definitely going to leave a black eye tomorrow. So much for that photo shoot. He didn't care for the moment, though - he just wanted this man to be okay. And he was damned if he was going to leave his side.

"Hey-- what are you doing?" He scrambled to his feet as the man stood, unable to catch him before he fell flat on his face in the sand. Godfrey reached out for him, risking yet another punch as he helped him up. "Hey, calm down," he murmured in the most nurturing voice he could muster. "It's okay. Help'll be here soon." He wasn't quite sure what else to say. What could he say? He hadn't the slightest idea of what was going on in the other man's head. The man was out cold, which was probably a good thing, Godfrey decided.

It didn't seem like quick enough that the ambulance arrived. But when it finally did, Godfrey let out a sigh of relief. "Come on. We're going to get you fixed up, okay?" he murmured in the other's ear, not even sure that he was listening. Godfrey helped the paramedics put him onto the stretcher, patting his shoulder once he was in the hands of the medical team. He turned to leave, but was stopped by one of the paramedics.

He lifted his eyebrows, nodding quickly. "O-Oh, yeah, sure. I can come along," he said, climbing into the back of the ambulance along with the man.

"Shit, man, this is Dr. Seo," Godfrey heard one of the paramedics say, causing Godfrey to lift his eyebrows. Surely, a doctor would know better than to allow himself to end up passed out, face-first in sand. That worried Godfrey. Something must be going on, something likely more terrifying than Godfrey ever wanted to imagine.

"He was just laying there when I drove past," he murmured, not entirely sure if anyone was listening. "He laying on the beach. He was unconscious." His mouth grew dry, and he couldn't tell if it was out of fear or concern for the man's health. Someone had done this to this Dr. Seo.

When Godfrey looked up, one of the paramedics was rummaging through the man's pockets, presumably searching for ID. "Aha. Seo In Guk, 26 years old. Heart rate's tachy, sats in the low 90s. I think he'll hold out 'til we get there." The paramedic glanced over at Godfrey, offering him something of a smile. "Thank you for calling us. He could've been in a world of trouble if you didn't."

Slim digits removed the food from the bag, trying not to make too much noise because he knew sometimes; cancer patients could have hyper sensitive sense because of the chemotherapy. But also because he didn’t want to be seen as a bother to the other, always coming around and his wife had even pointed out that he could become annoying to a degree. But she was always saying he was annoying. So her words were pretty much on deaf ears considering it was always buzzing around, reminding him that he probably shouldn’t do that or probably shouldn’t do this. It made him a nervous wreck at some points.

At the others words of becoming fat, he let out a light chuckle as he moved to the trash can with the plastic bag before glancing over his shoulder at the man in the bed.

“We gotta put a little more weight on you.” Nodding his head, almost in agreement with himself as he finished setting up the food, he soon moved over to the bed. Flashing a small smile at the male, he begun to set up the table before catching sight of fallen clumps of hair on the ground. It stunned him, causing his hand to pause for a split second as the reality of the situation hit him once more. Pursing his lips, he was back to finishing up the table to move over the others lap with a calm comfortable air being around the equipment. He was interning at the hospital and had to take care of a lot of patients but this man was the one that got most of his time.

The effects of the radiation were starting to affect Godfrey, that was obvious and throughout the first couple of stages, it was as if he was okay. But now, the physical affects were becoming more apparent and JongSuk wasn’t exactly sure how to comfort the other about it or just choose to ignore it. Either way, he could pretend as much that it didn’t bother him but he wasn’t sure how long he could hide it.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, the male heaved a sigh before bringing the food over as his lips pulled back in a smile.

“How’d you know? I got it from this place I always go to. It’s really good. It will make you feel as strong as the OX.” He flashed another smile and opened the containers that he was able to bring over, before fetching the rest of the side dishes. The small plastic containers were opened one by one but he made sure to put the kimchi away from the rest. The spice could upset his stomach and he didn’t want the other in pain.

“Oh…” He paused, his brain finally processing a thought as he almost pulled his hands to his side as he made a slight face.

“I should have asked if you’re okay to eat. I know you haven’t been feeling well…” Licking his lips, the male felt almost nervous and he was feeling pretty ignorant. But his wife was always telling him how he wasn’t thinking things through. Perhaps it was true.

The nausea was finally beginning to ebb away, for which Godfrey was thankful. He wanted to actually enjoy food for once - food that wasn't saltine crackers and warm water. And the soup smelled delicious. He'd know that smell anywhere. Ox tail soup had always been a favourite of his. And he was damned if he wasn't going to eat any of it.

"I'd recognize ox tail soup anywhere, no matter how sick I am," he grinned, resting his head back against the pillow. He still felt quite weak, especially now that his body was quite devoid of any sort of nutrition whatsoever, and he was eager for the warmth of the soup to spread through his seemingly lifeless body. "Thank you so much for this, Jongsuk."

Somehow, Jongsuk's concern didn't surprise Godfrey. He had never known anyone to worry quite as much as Jongsuk did; aside from Yoonjo, of course. Yoonjo was his sister, though, rather than an intern who didn't absolutely have to take care of Godfrey as much as he did. That wasn't so say that he didn't appreciate it, of course. It was nice to know that someone cared, even though they absolutely didn't have to.

The older man shook his head, offering the young student a smile. "No, no, I want to try and eat some. I can't promise much, but I'm actually feeling a little hungry for the first time in a while," he insisted. "You should split it in half. Eat some yourself. I'm sure you've been working yourself to the bone; you always do." There wasn't much that he could do to care for Jongsuk, not from his hospital bed, but he could always nag the younger man like an older brother.

The door to the lobby elevator opened with a soft ‘ping’, a gentleman in a business suit giving her a forced smile as they made eye contact. She gave a slight nod of her head, taking her place tucked in the corner of the small compartment, her mind occupied with the thought of seeing her brother. It had only been a week since she’d seen him last but to her a week was an eternity. It was a week she spent completely alone, her mother too drunk to even get out of bed or in a hazy fog from some assortment of pills while her dad only asked to see her when he wanted something from her, whether it be hauling her to an event or showing her off to other companies to try and earn partnerships. The one day a week she managed to escape, even if it was to this hospital, was her sanctuary.

The doors slid open, revealing the floor she knew by heart. At the very end to the left would be Godfrey, waiting for her like he always did. Her shoes clacked across the cold, linoleum floor as she made her way down the hall, a bright smile racing her features as she caught the eye of the nurse coming out of Godfrey’s room. A pained look flashed across the woman’s face and Yoonjo could see shutters come down behind her eyes. The look turned Yoonjo’s blood to ice in her veins, her heart hammering so loudly that she could no longer hear the sharp clack of her heels against the floor. “Yoonjo,” she began softly, clamping a comforting hand on the younger girls shoulder. “Your brother isn’t really feeling all that well today. Chemo really took a lot out of him, he just needs to rest so he can’t have any visitors today.” Yoonjo took a step back, pulling her shoulder away with a scowl. “I’m not a visitor, I’m his sister. Those models that love him, his business associates, they’re visitors. He would want to see me.”

The nurse’s lips pursed into a thin line as she straightened up, the look on her face indicating that she was clearly torn with the situation at hand. She had known the two siblings during Godfrey’s entire stay and was well aware of how much they cared for each other. She was aware of how happy seeing Godfrey made the teenage girl but she was also painfully aware of how vulnerable and weak Godfrey felt being so sick. He couldn’t be the person he thought he needed for Yoonjo and it would hurt him just as much as the chemo did for her to seem him in that state. “I’m sorry Yoonjo, but you need to go home.” She outstretched an arm, doing her best to herd Yoonjo away from the room that held her brother and for a moment it seemed like she would leave without resistance. That, however, was not the case. She turned her back to the nurse, walking a few steps back towards the elevator before turning quickly to dart underneath her arm. The nurse wasn’t expecting the trick and wasn’t nearly as nimble as the dainty girl and before she could even react Yoonjo had her hand on the doorknob, gaining entrance to the room.

"Godfrey, that woman told me I couldn’t-" She had wheeled into the room, her temper as hot as fire, but was cut short by the sight in front of her. The horrible, confining tightness she had felt earlier returned to her chest and she had to force herself not to turn away. His appearance was pallor and though the air conditioning blew cold, his face had a sheen of sweat. Her bag clattered to the floor, forgotten in the moment, as she rushed to wet a washcloth. Slowly, she began dabbing his face as the familiar pricking of tears hit her eyes. He seemed to be asleep, which was better than having to be awake and in pain. Even if she didn’t get to speak with him this trip, just seeing him was enough to ease her heavy heart.

But his hazy mind finally registered what was being said, and he forced his eyes open, turning his head to catch Yoonjo's gaze. A sigh passed his lips, and he reached up to rest a hand on her cheek. "You weren't supposed to come in," he croaked, a slight smile playing at his lips. He wasn't surprised, in all honesty. She was a little spitfire. There was no saying no to Shin Yoonjo.

Godfrey sucked in a heavy breath, mustering up the last bit of strength he had to sit up slightly in bed. "You're so stubborn. I told the nurse not to let you in but something tells me you weren't going to take that." He wished that Yoonjo wasn't there. The very last thing he wanted was for her to see him like this. And judging by the sound of her voice, this hadn't been easy for her in the slightest. He never wanted her to have to deal with this.

The man squeezed his eyes shut against a wave of nausea. The last thing he needed right now was to be sick again, and for Yoonjo to see the tinges of blood. "I'm supposed to be the one who sings to you, not the other way around." He reached a hand up to rub over his face, glistening with sweat. If he had it his way, he would keep Yoonjo away until he was entirely better; if that happened, in any case. He tried not to think negatively, but it was possible that he could die right here in this hospital bed any day. There had been some close calls already.

Godfrey turned to face Yoonjo, wincing against the sharp pain in his stomach. No matter how much he wanted  Yoonjo to leave... he didn't. She was, in many ways, his security blanket. He never wanted her to be, but she was what made Godfrey feel safe. She gave him the strength to fight when he didn't want to, which seemed to be more often than not. She was quite possibly the only reason he was alive at that very moment.

He wanted to speak, but even the movement of his jaw was too much. He closed his eyes, but not before reaching out to grab Yoonjo's hand between two of his own. "Are you okay? Has Dad done anything?" He knew that he didn't have to elaborate. One of the things Godfrey hated most about being sick was that he couldn't do a thing about anything his father did to Yoonjo. Between his father and his witch of a stepmother, neither of them cared about the person who meant most to Godfrey. And he simply couldn't help from his hospital bed.

Change wasn’t something Kyungsoo embraced. A creature of habit, a lover of the beaten path. It was much easier that way. Any form of routine he could somehow conjure while living on the streets was a blessing. And that was exactly why he had almost shed tears at the sight of police ‘do not cross’ tape cordoning off the hostel in which he spent most of his nights. He knew the people there, the staff knew him, he knew the layout, he’d even picked a favourite room; number 16.

It felt like a giant loss, as if someone dear to him had taken their untimely departure into whatever place lay in wait of the dead. Of course he knew it was stupid, it was just a hostel after all, but it was a place he liked to refer to as home. 

Kyungsoo trudged along the sidewalk, keeping as close to the buildings as possible each time a car passed. There was a list of places he’d made in his head long ago, places he could sleep in and not be disturbed by the police or other vagrants wandering the streets. The number of homeless had dropped significantly though, Kyungsoo wasn’t surprised, what with the Origami killer around. He’d thought about moving out of Seoul, but he was never sure if he could handle such a large change or not, even when it was a life or death situation.

His name was Kyungsoo, but that was just about all Godfrey knew. That was all anyone really seemed to know - that, and the fact that he was homeless. Godfrey stuffed his free hand into his pocket, the other clutching the last bite of an ice cream cone. Ice cream was easily his biggest weakness. He popped the bite into his mouth, dragging his thumb across his lips to wipe any debris away.

Now, he had only one thing to focus on - Kyungsoo. Godfrey had been so tempted a long time ago to simply steal the boy off the streets and perhaps offer him a home in the residence that the Gao models lived in. But something told Godfrey that would be quite overwhelming for the boy. There were upwards of four hundred models living in the giant apartment complex in the center of town; most, if not all, female. The last thing Godfrey wanted was for the boy to feel out of place.

And so, he decided that he would offer his help in any way that the boy could possibly want it. It wouldn't hurt to ask, he decided. He cleared his throat, pulling his hands from his pockets and walking across the dewy grass to the bench that the boy had set his sights on. He came to sit beside the young man, crossing one leg over the other as he looked over.

"Your name is Kyungsoo, am I right?" he asked with a friendly smile. Godfrey clasped his hands atop his knee, tracing his tongue over his lips. No matter how used to being around people Godfrey was, he always grew nervous before others. "I always see you out here on your own - don't you have anywhere to go, sweetheart?" He furrowed his brows, frustrated by the entire situation. If there was anyone who didn't deserve the hand life had dealt them, it was Kyungsoo.

“Yeobo! Help me with this.” He asked, motioning to the wooden spoon in the pot placed on the tiny stove. It was the only day he had off and per that day, he had made a promise to go and bring a new food each time he visited his teacher. Of course, that didn’t make his wife too happy. Wrinkling her nose, she moved over and looked at the fail mess of soup and he couldn’t help but watch her face as she dipped a spoon into it with a hopeful face.

“Careful, it’s hot.” The male cooed but she didn’t react to the sweet words as she blew on the liquid before tasting it. Automatically, her nose wrinkled and she pushed the spoon back towards him, nearly grimacing as she moved away. Looking at his soup, his face dropping, he couldn’t help but take a deep breath as he let the hand hold the spoon drop by his side.

“Why are you even bothering with this JongSuk? The man has cancer. He’s pretty much ready to check out.” She muttered, tossing a glare over at the male almost jealous of the attention he was giving the dish.

“Ya…there is a high chance of the cancer cells receding—“

“I don’t care.” The female cut him off and despite her cold tone, the male flashed a smile as he moved over to her, tapping her nose as her hands rested on her slightly round stomach. It had been only a few months and yet, here she was months pregnant with their child. But when she had found out, her face had dropped but JongSuk had been way too excited to notice.

“I’ll be back in a few hours and then we can watch the soccer game. Okay?” the male muttered softly before flashing a large smile, her face not reflecting his own as he moved away. It seemed he was going to have to stop and pick up some food that was good but enough for the male and he knew the perfect place that also had some favorite of the woman curled up on the couch with a glare on the wall.

Quickly, he moved over to grab his messenger bag and tossed it over his shoulder before moving out of the door with a ‘I love you’ tossed over his shoulder. It took a bit and some money, but he was finally at the hospital with a small stack of food for the male and a small smile on his face. Pushing his sunglasses back, the young male hoped off the bicycle and pulled it up to the usual spot near the back entrance of the hospital, the plastic bag tossed over his shoulder with the food before he heaved a sigh. His back was slicked with a slight layer of sweat from the ride over from the market but he couldn’t help but smile as he entered the area. It wasn’t a large smile but a subtle on that pulled the corners of his lips.

With slight waves towards him by familiar faces, he ducked his head down towards them in greeting but he had a mission and that was to get to the males room while the food was somewhat warm. With quick feet, he moved towards the cancer ward but he was trying to keep a positive outlook because that’s what Godfrey needed. Well, in JongSuk’s mind. Moving towards the normal room, on the normal day, he paused outside of the door and knocked gently before pushing it aside, poking his head inside.

But a timid voice caught his attention, the man wincing slightly at even the slightest of sounds. "Hey, Jongsuk," he croaked, forcing himself to sit up slightly in bed. Whatever it was that the younger man had brought in smelled delicious, but didn't do much to settle his stomach. He pressed a hand to it as he turned his head to look at the only visitor he'd had since being admitted to the hospital.

Godfrey reached a hand up to cover the bald spot on the side of his head, trying to make it seem nonchalant and unintentional. "You're going to make me fat if you keep bringing me so much food," he teased, brushing a few stray pieces of hair from his pillow in the hopes that Jongsuk wouldn't see it. His hair was one of his favourite features - but he wouldn't be so lucky as to keep it much longer.

"Is that ox tail soup?" Godfrey wasn't the best cook in the world, which was why he had his own personal chef. But having Jongsuk around definitely made his life easier. And since his personal chef couldn't very well stay at the hospital with him and make his food, Jongsuk was the closest he got to a home-cooked meal, and he appreciated every single one.

The surrounding suburb was rather quiet, much in contrast to the bustling main roads lined with uncountable street food stalls and passerby people with food half-shoved in their mouths. Jaerim could never stand such places; too much noise and he’d feel as if he’d rip all his hair out. The business didn’t matter to him; even now he could attract just as many customers than if he set his stall up in a busier area.

Jaerim was busy kneading specially-made dough; it was necessary to make sure that his pork buns were of the highest quality and standard. He had realized how rough his hands had become after all these years of working the family business, but it was the evidence of hard work and dedication he had towards the success of his pork buns. Brushing the hair from his eyes, Jaerim sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of any negative connotation, but one of contentment.

It took Jaerim a moment to realize there was another person standing before him. “Ah, hello. Would you like some pork bu—” His eyes flickered up to see a taller man, a man that he was all too familiar with. A smile was brought to Jaerim’s lips. “Godfrey. I’m glad to see you again.” A frequent customer of his, and a highly welcomed one; Jaerim couldn’t have been happier to provide his pork buns to the other male who he knew loved them oh-so-much. He had to admit, on the rare days that Godfrey didn’t come by, Jaerim would actually feel saddened.

But the next words that came from the other’s mouth caught his breath. “Wait, what—” He cocked his head. “You… bought my stand? My pork bun stand?” He grasped the envelope, almost reluctantly, and opened it. Even by a mere look, Jaerim knew the contained amount of money was far more than he could comprehend. It was probably somewhere in the millions, much to his shock. He looked back up at Godfrey. “But why…” His mouth was left half-opened, being completely speechless in disbelief. “My stand is all I have left, I—”

"I know I'll enjoy them. I always do," he grinned, reaching into the bag to pull one out. He wasn't the most patient when it came to food, especially Jaerim's pork buns. They were, hands down, the best in all of Seoul; or, he would venture so far as to say they were the best he'd ever eaten. And Godfrey was quite well-traveled.

Godfrey shook his head. "I'm not joking about buying your stand, no." He gave a slight shrug. "But that doesn't mean I intend to do anything with it. I wanted to invest in your stand, because it's, by far, the best food in Seoul. I wouldn't wish for this place to close in a million years." He chuckled good-naturedly, taking a hearty bite of his pork bun. As usual, it was delicious, but he wouldn't have expected any less from the famous pork bun guy.

"I want to help you!" His words were muffled by his mouthful of bread and pork, but the enthusiasm shone through. "If you ever need anything - you know, like flour or pork or... whatever goes into your buns, the expense won't come out of your pocket or out of what you make for the day. I got that all covered." He swallowed, licking his lips. "God, these are good. How do you even do it?"

                      The harbor, the harbor, the harbor.

It was the only thing he could think about and he paid no mind to the speed limit, this time around there was no one on his side as he ran his fingers contentiously and nervously through his hair. His brows her furrowed and the stream of tears seemed to be never ending, his vision was betraying him - certain lines blurring together for a moment which caused him to swerve, it had also caused him to become painfully close to running a red light. Shoving his foot down on the break pedal which ultimately threw him forward in his seat as the loud sound of his tires screeching against the cement of the street shrieked in his ears.

Being thrown forward his face had made a connection to the steering wheel, a loud cry emitting from his throat as he was also thrown backwards against his seat as his car came to a stop to the red light. Seos breathing had become erratic as he tried to compose himself, but all he did was grip the steering wheel and throw himself back and fourth and emit a loud ear splitting scream. 

   Frustrated,

                Confused,

                                 absolutely fucking livid. 

He sat there and wondered why out of all of the hundreds if not thousands of people in this city, why was it him that was chosen? Of course he would never wish this upon anybody, not this gut wrenching feeling. There was a continuously building trepidation in his chest, it was causing his bones to ache with each and every breath that passed through his clenched teeth and urged another sob to break through. 

The light turned green and he shoved his foot down on the steering wheel and he tried his best to ignore the strong pulsating in his face, the pain that was building with every pulse. He was going to have some pretty large bruises on his face the next day, the muscles on his face were surely ripped and strained and were going to ache. And the whiplash would easily be more than enough for him to remember this night, amongst all the other things.

Adrenaline was starting to course through his veins but it felt like ice, he was getting closer and closer to the harbor and as he got closer the more he pressed down on the gas pedal, he had his seat belt on and from his knowledge he was fallowing the instructions properly. He hoped to god there wasnt a small detail he was missing, all he could imagine at the moment was his sisters face and what her smile looked like - and what her laugh sounded like. There was doubt whispering in his ear that was pulling him into a dark place and thinking that he wasnt going to see her again.

Since the day his sister was born, he promised to himself that he would do everything in his power to take care of her. Hell, he was the one who taught her how to walk. He was the reason she passed her hardest classes with flying colors, she was nineteen now and she was growing into a beautiful young woman, and her life was being threatened. Her legs, oh god her legs. The thought of her screaming in pain from her legs being broken and nothing to numb the pain was too much.

            I’m sorry, i’m sorry, oh my god im so sorry. 

Sorry for what? he wasnt exactly sure, maybe if he did something differently she wouldn’t be a target - somehow and some way this was his fault. The harbor was in his view and all he could hear was the sound of his heart beating, reverberating loudly in his ears before pressing all the way down on the gas pedal. Seo was easily going about 90 already - what was ten more miles? Closer, and closer he was starting to get scared.

A fresh batch of tears were rolling down his cheeks as he was less than a minute away from driving over the edge of the harbor and into the ocean just as he was instructed, if his hands weren’t holding onto the steering wheel so tightly they would be a trembling mess. So many out comes were going through his head but it was too late to lay on the gas pedal.

                                                He was already falling into the ocean.

Everything went in slow motion from that point on, it was like riding a roller coaster for the most part. The entire drive there was like the long anxiety ridden drive up, and now he was at that part where it went down. Your stomach in your throat, your heart in your stomach. Seo hardly noticed when the car made a strong collision against the water until his face smacked against the steering wheel once again as the front of the car went nose first into the water. 

It was very safe to say that his nose was broken, the taste of iron was thick in his mouth as he swallowed down the blood. A gasp ripped through his lungs as disorientation delayed his reaction time, to unbuckle the seat belt and to get himself out of the car. He was in the car but he couldn’t breath, his chest was tight and breathing felt like he was inhaling fire and the flames were curling in his lungs. 

           I have to get out. 

But he couldn’t move either, his fingers fumbled with the buckle but his fingers were numb and he couldn’t tell if he was applying pressure or not. Trying over and over again to press down on the button to release him from the bindings that were meant to keep him safe and it was more of a chore then he wanted it to be, but finally he felt the click through the numbness and the lock on the buckle released him and he fell forward.

                                                     Get out. 

In order for his sister to survive he needed to get out, or at least thats what he assumed since the wasnt given precise detail on how this was supposed to work. Or if he was doing this all for nothing and just playing into a game for the means of amusement by a sick and twisted person, fear drove people to do stupid things, and love drove people to do dangerous things. 

Seo loved his sister more than anything else on this planet and that was what pushed him to grab onto the handle of the car door, he took a large breath in and god it burned so much. His hands were trembling violently and it was hard for him to find the strength to open the door - especially when his bones at this moment felt like they were replaced with rubber.

He had to do this, Seo used his shoulder and used all of his weight to shove against the door and push himself out. The car filled with water and started to fall down faster, the current from the car dragging down pulled him down more. Seo flailed through the water as he wasnt sure which way was up, eyes closed shut tightly and just pushed himself to swim - anywhere. It was a lot harder to swim in the water with clothes and shoes on, he didnt know how deep he was in the water or how long he could work past the pain and hold his breath.

Struggling to kick his shoes off he didnt care, they were holding him back - these were just things. He could buy more. But now he had to get out, find his way up. Save his sister by getting out, somehow this was going to save her life - whatever it took was okay, though. 

         The pain in his chest was too much. 

Unable to hold his breath any longer he panicked and frantically swam up towards where he assumed the surface was, his throat was struggling as it restricted against the inability to take in air and he opened in mouth to take in a gasp and water filled his lungs. But he was so close, his eyes were opened through the salt water and he could see the moon. But it was starting to get cloudy and all he could see were black dots, and suddenly couldn’t feel his ligaments. 

The next couple seconds lingered as everything became hazy, one more stretch up and his head got above water. A loud gasp ripped through his chest and a he coughed up water, the taste of iron and salt coating his tongue. Air filling his lungs, and as much as it hurt it was nice to get some air. Frantically looking for the shore he started in the correct direction, it was far - god it was so far. 

Using whatever strength he had left to push himself to swim the most he could, his muscles burned and his calf muscles were cramping. Closer and closer he was getting to the shore, it was just a couple yards away. It was worth it this would be over soon and his sister would be safe and sound and things would come back to normal and he would be able to see his sister grow up and get married and be able to be an uncle and help her raise his kids.

This was what he had to think about as he swam to the shore, to picture what she would look like in a wedding dress and what type of man she would fall in love with. He was almost there, and the waves were helping him along the way. Reaching the shore  a couple minutes later and he was only able to crawl up a couple feet before he had to stop and throw up everything in his stomach. Mostly bile and salt water, and some blood from a few busted teeth and when he chewed on his cheek.

The burn wasnt getting easier to deal with, getting sick in the sand didnt exactly help his throat that already felt like it was shredded from inhaling water. Gasping for a breath of air between heaves, the taste was something indescribable. Doubling over against the sand, his chest heaved as more tears welled up in his eyes. 

  He did as he was told.

And now he had no idea what was supposed to happen.

            He was so, so tired. 

Warmth pooled through out his chest and his eyes were so so heavy, fluttering and blinking furiously as the tears mixed with the salt and the sand. His mouth was dry and all he could taste was bile and blood, it didnt take long for him to close his eyes, a human being could only take so much stress and his body was shutting down and telling him he had enough.

The last thought that lingered in his mind before he passed out on the sand with no idea what tomorrow held for him was; 

Possibly. His phone rang constantly. He was always on it. He reached two fingers up to press the call button on his bluetooth headset. "Godfrey Gao speaking." How many times had he even said that in the last twenty-four hours? Definitely too many. He was growing tired of hearing his own name.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, mind far from work as it set on the harbor. "Yes, yes, the appointment is tomorrow... right, I'll be sure to get off--" Once the harbor came into sight, the stretch of golden sand greeting Godfrey, so did a seemingly lifeless figure, lying on the beach. Was that... blood? "Shit! I-- I gotta call you back."

Godfrey wasn't sure he had ever parked quite so quickly in his life, only managing to park half in one parking spot and half into the other, front tires of his Jeep going up over the curb. But for the moment, he couldn't have possibly cared less.

His leather shoes didn't lend him much traction in the sand as he ran to the injured man's side, succeeding in throwing the man's equilibrium off a few times, landing him in the sand. His suit was done for, he knew, but that was the least of his concerns. He fell to the younger man's side, heart thudding wildly against his ribs.

"Hey, can you hear me?" he asked desperately, as loudly as he could manage in the hopes of rousing him if he had indeed passed out. But nothing he did seemed to make the man move in the slightest. Godfrey let out a loud breath, inspecting the damage. His nose was more than likely broken, considering the rather painful-looking angle it had taken on. And the man was soaking wet.

Godfrey's eyes narrowed, but he pulled out his phone to call for emergency services. "Hello, yes, I need an ambulance-- Yes, the harbor. Someone's on the beach here out cold, and I think his nose is broken, I-- Yeah, I'll be here." With a loud sigh, he dropped his phone to the sand, smoothing the stranger's fringe from the angry red cuts dotting his features.

"God, please just be alive," he begged quietly, reaching a hand out to take the other's gently. He turned it, pressing two fingers to his wrist to feel for a pulse. There had to be something. He couldn't be dead.