ARE WE ALIVE

A small, nervous smile formed on her face. “The nurse? Well…um….” Her leg began shaking out of nervousness. The older man intimidated her and caused Mei to forget almost how to speak Korean. All she wanted was to get an outside view on how she looked. “Um…the nurse….she’s busy, I think.”

three hours, forty seven minutes and twenty two seconds. 

that’s how long he’d been sitting there, hues trained on the glass doors that continued to open and close in front of him. the wooden bench he’d situated himself on wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable seat he’d experienced, but it was where he’d been frozen ––– PARALYZED. 

he’d been recommended for therapy once more ( a weekly occurrence, truly ) but never before had he driven out to the hospital as means to fulfill this guidance. three years was a long time to be stuck in this tattered emotional state, too long of time for his mind to be filled with nothing but fleeting happiness and vast stretches of agony. and though he yearned for it all to be over, he wasn’t able to take that first step. 

he’d never been able to take that first step. 

just like now. he’d been waiting in front of the tall white building for so long, the retired actor bundled up with his scarf up to his ears, sunglasses over his eyes, mask on his face, and a hat atop his head. it was a bit much, but junseo wasn’t one to take any risks. dropping from the top of the acting world without any explanation at all ( he’d never gave an interview ) had left the populace with questions, questions that junseo didn’t feel the need to answer. 

his hands are nestled deep within his pockets, body stiff against the hard wood of the bench. he couldn’t go inside, but he couldn’t find it within himself to leave either. leaving would an admit to failure, a confirmation to himself that he couldn’t get over his fears and conquer the nightmares that terrorized him at night. 

the cold was beginning to chill through his many layers, and the man readjusts his position to cross his arms, as if that would bring him the warmth he so desperately craved. a woman sits next to him, glancing in his direction only momentarily, before going back to whatever she had sat down to do. the hasty movement of the crowds surrounding the hospital made him nervous, reminding him of the rapidity that had plagued his night of horrors back in 2013. 

he doesn’t know what to do. it’s as if he’s stuck in a vat of glue, the air around him too thick to move along with everyone else. he’s stuck in the same position for three hours ( almost four now ) and he can’t do anything about it. no matter how much he TRIES to move, to leave, to GO anywhere but HERE –––– he can’t. 

just the mere sight of the building standing before him was enough to make him nauseous, each and every memory from that night coming back to him in succession. every muscle in his body was clenched, trying to fight the inward urges he had to run and scream and CRY until he couldn’t FEEL anymore. 

feel. 

that’s what he was always struggling with. 

he couldn’t feel anymore. 

any ounce of happiness he felt, any amount of joy that ever came his way was CRUSHED by the reminder that HE, pi junseo, had killed someone. 

he deserved no happiness. 

none at all. 

none. 

he checks his watch, a low ( controlled ) sigh falling from his lips upon seeing the time. 

four hours, twelve minutes, and fifty eight seconds. 

it hadn’t felt like time had passed. 

but then again, the last three years had passed in a blur and he still felt as if he’d committed his sins last night.

his hues follow a crack in the pavement up until it hits the hospital wall, gaze catching on each of the windows until he reached the top of the building. the building wasn’t so tall, wasn’t so scary, wasn’t so INTIMIDATING. he could go in there, right ? no harm, no damage. just a simple hour long session in which he could express his emotions to someone who cared. 

“Do you think I have a fever?” Mei asked the person next to her as she placed the back of her hand on her forehead. The last time Mei had been sick was a couple months ago when she caught strep throat and was miserable for the week. Now would not be the time for a repeat, though she knew it was definitely the season for it. For all she knew though, she could be overreacting as she sometimes did. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t get sick often. And when I do, it isn’t pretty,” Mei added, a concerned look on her face. 

so junseo’s filmography page was finally created, thanks to the True™ mvp adri, which you can check out here.

eunah:

replies – @ikjaeyoung / @ikxjoonyoung / @ikxeva 

starters: i’m dropping the starters i owe for eunah because i’ve been lacking muse and they will probably never get done at this rate, super sorry :~(

akari: 

replies: @iksehyeon 

starters: none

sunee:

replies: @ikhansol / @ikdavika 

starters: none

junseo:

replies: none

starters: @ikvivian / @ikxmeizhen / @ikdahee / @ikxbomi / @ikxmarie

“Shouldn’t you be looking too?” She says sharply before she really thought about what she should have said instead. But it wasn’t like she was the only one at fault, he ran into as much as she ran into him, she could tell he had been on his phone and she had been on her own as she walked through the building. However, with a slight sigh and small bow of her head, she said, “Sorry.” Not only for running into him but also for her earlier tone.

                there was only so much time junseo was willing to waste by waiting for people, and just because bongki was someone he considered to be a friend, didn’t mean that rule didn’t apply. it’d been four minutes and thirty six seconds since the scheduled time to meet, and junseo was beginning to grow impatient.