SPIDER / BITE.

“i’m trying my best not to,” jinsol isn’t sure what the point of the interaction is. if she’s drunk enough that it’s reoriented her general modus operandi. if it’s a change of heart. a desire for change. a moment of fleeting insanity. he’s not sure he wants to be a part of whatever odd game chaesol’s playing at either, however. not unless he’s certain it will bring him a decent chunk of money from the exchange. however that guarantee is still hanging in the air between them. enshrouded by words that he can’t find the point to. 

something rolls closer and clicks into place when she continues to talk. like everything is being pieced together in a slow-revealing architectural representation of what chaesol’s after. and jinsol, sharkish in nature smells blood in the water at those words. it’s a mangled thing – need. a word that’s driven into his own weaknesses. a word that, as far as he’s concerned is paramount to power. she didn’t say it outright, no. but it feels like it. if someone doesn’t want something and still strives toward it, what else could it be but need? so he shoulders that assumption with a smile that reads too sharp, jagged. a shark-toothed smile to fit his disposition.

“of course,” he nods in ascent. and he can. concentration and creativity, a project he’d undertook long ago. it’s a well sought after combination. 

“asking me for something’s a favor. you’re buying.” jinsol corrects her, taps a few fingers against his own elbow in time to the music. “people get addicted to the emotions, or their capabilities while channeling those emotions. i don’t know what you’ll do with them, or if you’ll depend on them.” he states, and it reads almost like a disclaimer. he often doesn’t care about the predicament that his clients can drill their way into. but he’s not so sure he wants chaseol in front of him, accusing him of lying simply because she wanted to start playing with fire of her own volition. 

he slips his phone out of his pocket, scrolls through a few pages of presumed products. settles on one, taps at a few buttons and a small floating holographic picture form. a brief description, along with a price. it’s been inflated in this exact moment. but she can afford it, and she’d gone and made her necessity apparent to him. who would he be to do otherwise? it’s not as if she knows the going rate anyway. and if she did, would he care?

not really.

she was embarrassed, that much was obvious.

nevertheless, chaesol knew that she couldn’t let her pride swallow her whole. now that she had given him a potential reason for excitement, she needed to go through with her plan. despite a relatively composed mental state, her body language was beginning to reveal how she truly felt—how her limbs wouldn’t allow her to continue this feigned bravado. arms were folded over her chest, knees were locked, and her posture was nowhere near stunning. she dripped insecurity from her pores, and she was just dumb enough to convince herself that jinsol would buy heavily into her words rather than her vessel. however, he wasn’t stupid. as much as she found him to be an annoyance, she couldn’t deny that he was devilishly smart; especially when it came to his business. hell, he may as well be turning a once straight edge into one abused—riddled with dips and curves; unpolished.

“asking, buying, whatever... all i need to know is if you can help somehow.” how sad; pathetic. her tone was laced with an aching desperation, and she loathed that it came to this. so much for being headstrong. “i’m pretty sure i fucking know what this shit can do to someone. being reminded is only gonna make me change my mind, and i don’t know if i can afford to do that.” at least she was honest. “what i’m hoping for is that, like, this’ll just be a one off purchase, if that makes sense. that, maybe after this one try, i’ll be ‘fixed’ and can get back to work at a better pace without needing to stoop down to a level i never wanted to go down to.” she knew that she was perhaps divulging too much personal information, but chaesol’s always been an open book. it’s hard for her to keep even her most private thoughts contained.

however, before she was able to expose any more of her now dimmed soul, she was treated to a glowing display of his abundant stock—each price not at all appearing too detrimental to her bank account, which is what she was expecting. “how convenient,” she remarked, rolling her eyes. “i don’t know what makes you think i know what any of these things are. sure, the small descriptions are there, but i need actual guidance. in a fucked up way, i’m kinda putting my trust in you.” that statement burned as it escaped her mouth, and she was left with the foulest taste upon her palate. “what would you recommend for me? i need one good high, and that’s it.”

here she was: a girl poisoned. let’s hope she can find an antidote before she’s forever sick.

“i wish more people would take my company as currency,” she drawls on a wry twist of her lips, pausing as she takes another sip of the tea. she’s warming inside as well as out now, thanks to beverage and sweater alike. a fruitful day to be sure. however - “oh wait,” she references to the drawl of her prior words, “that sounds like prostitution. i guess i figured out my dream job after all.” she chuckles at her own expense, nose scrunching. perhaps she’d never had the best turn of phrase, always a little bit rough around the edges, speak first and think later. “ddeokbokki then?” she reasons, “spicy, plus carbs.” not to mention it’s cheap. the last thing she’s eager to do is keep imposing, and she’s a girl on a budget. self imposed, mostly, to save up for equipment upgrades in the lab, but a budget nonetheless. “or budaejigae?” decision made after brief conversation later, she settles back again, mug in hand, to question, “so, like, what have you been working on lately?”

there was an easy beauty to their sweet reunion, and it’s one that’s only shown itself now that all of the adrenaline-steeped suspense has fully faded. chaesol recalls feeling nervous at the idea of yani coming over to entertain conversations, catching up, and a stunningly disorganized loft—one that she hasn’t had the time to organize how she’d like. inviting someone into her home always placed her into a vulnerable position. most of the time, she agreed to meet up with her interested clientele in public spaces so they wouldn’t catch a glimpse into her personal life too much. it wasn’t so much that she was embarrassed by her style of living, no, but on most days, her supplies were in such abundance that it’s often hard to find a comfortable place to sit. she would never want anyone to be uncomfortable in her presence, after all, so once the plans with yani were set, she spent hours upon hours deep-cleaning everything. for the first time in a long time, she was able to make her home appear as it should, and it was all thanks to the hellish nerves, and pressure, she felt to portray a perfect image to those around her. though truth be told, the older woman may already know her pretty well due to their past together. it’s been a very long time since then, sure, but she had a strong feeling that neither of them was too different from their childhood selves. that’s what she’d like to believe, at least.

a smile tugs at the corners of her lips at the compliment, and she shakes her head back and forth; bringing the mug full of liquid flora back up to her mouth to sip some more. once done, she settled it back onto the surface of her table and sighed contentedly. “well, i’m glad you think so. i honestly don’t think most of the people i associate with—who, let’s face it, aren’t cut from the same fabric as you and i, if you know what i mean—would be into adult tea parties, so at least i know that i can count on you to show up for them.” a wink followed suit, and she couldn’t but feel almost smitten towards the other. she had no idea why. it was as if all of the time spent apart only made their coming together more special. “it’s not like i’d ever want them around unless matters were strictly professional, though...” she shook her head, shrugging her shoulders. “maybe i shouldn’t talk badly about the people who buy my work, though. if not for them, i wouldn’t be able to live as comfortably as i do, or whatever.” it was troublesome, really. she worked for the people that she claimed to despise. not many in elysium could afford her garments, so she had to market to the olympians with the heftiest bank accounts, even if it made her sick sometimes.

there was no point in worrying about all of that now, though, so instead, she laughed at yani’s joke; her voice loud, and full of childlike giddiness. “well, if it makes you feel better, i’d pay top prices to spend a night with you, mon chéri.” was it flirtation, or just friends being friends? she didn’t really know, but she wasn’t prepared to analyze the situation fully yet. “you’re not only gorgeous but a genius, too, for thinking of ddeokbokki. i... genuinely don’t remember the last time i had some, and that’s sad, but that’s about to change, so i guess there’s no reason to fret.” that said, they were able to settle on a place to order from, and now, all they had to rely on was patience to carry their hunger over until their meals arrived. 

thank god for delivery.

as the conversation changed to her recent projects, chaesol smiled and tried her best to be brief when she finally decided to speak. if it were up to her, she could go on and on about her work, but she’d never want it to seem as though she was only interested in talking about only herself. “well, i was working on your sweater in-between a few gowns i’ve been commissioned to prepare. that’s a bore, though, as they’re not really all that interesting for me to design. most people who order custom dresses are INTENSELY PICKY about what they want, which makes things easier to a degree, but easy is never fun, you know?” she had no idea when the last time she felt a challenge from a project was, and that disappointed her immensely. she’s also been too busy to undertake any personal projects, too, so that further stifled her. “i’m trying to find new shapes, or silhouettes, to introduce to people, though, but no one’s really willing to be bold and reinvent the wheel a lot of the time. everyone wants the same thing over and over again—whatever’s trendy at the time—and it’s getting old.” she complained, then took another sip of her tea.

“so you really want something then?” he asks her, head tipping to the side as he regards her expression, tries to figure out whether or not she’s smashed. if it’s a bad judgement call. but then, they’re not really close enough for jinsol to feel guilty about it if it were. “what’re you in business for?”

she admits to herself that her words to him were juvenile. she admits that he could destroy her with a slip of the tongue.

despite that, though, chaesol decides not to make herself small or submissive to him. she feels that that’s what he’d want, anyway. why else would he have engaged her in conversation the instant she made her approach? if he truly didn’t want to entertain a conversation, he could’ve simply ignored her. sure, his words weren’t overwhelmingly welcoming—she expected that much—but she couldn’t deny that he was intriguing in some fashion. would they ever become friends? not likely, but she didn’t want to make an enemy out of him either. though, she fears she may have already done that. being fiercely opinionated sometimes landed her in water hotter than she was comfortable with, but luckily, she’s learned how to swim despite the torrid temperatures, and she was adamant about discussing her options; discussing “sales,” so to speak. her conscience was warning her to stay away, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and she genuinely had no idea how to solve her current dilemma.

this was the first time she’s ever been uninspired, and it fucking terrified her more than anything.

not only would it affect her work negatively, but it would also force her to realize that there’s only a certain level of inventiveness that she can dream up before the well of creativity runs dry. she wasn’t ready for that reality check yet. so, here she was; tail between her legs and timid as she stood before a man shrouded in mystery, and in her mind, danger. so much danger. jinsol was something of a monster in her eyes, but she longed to make herself brave. exposure therapy was a thing, right? maybe, in a way, that’s what all of this was. she was working to diminish a lifelong fear. she only had her mother to blame for putting it there in the first place, so now, it was her job to rewire herself enough to rise above the darkness that swathes her memories.

chaesol rolls her eyes at his comments. she knows he’s capable of better, but she wasn’t going to ask for more venom when she was already about to poison herself. “don’t flatter yourself too much, sweetheart.” she quipped, her posture becoming more languid over time. when he asks if she’s intoxicated, she can’t help but wish that she was. that would make this whole encounter a lot easier to deal with. “no, i’m not drunk, and no, it’s not that i WANT something, necessarily... i guess i just need a little bit of help trying to piece together a collection for my next show.” it stings to admit that, but how else was she going to explain herself? “every piece is becoming grossly redundant, and i don’t want to seem like i can’t push my boundaries at all. a friend of mine told me that you can help with that, maybe?” manicured fingernails comb through the length of her raven-hued tresses; her sight trailing off to the goings-on of the afterlife for a moment before returning back to him.

“trust me—i didn’t wanna ask you for shit, but i also can’t really afford to ruin my career since i’m just starting to really take off. if you have something that, like, you know, offers euphoria or creativity or whatever, that’d help... but i’m not interested if what you’re gonna do is get me addicted to something that i can’t shake. i’d be even worse off then.” that lingering fear was still present, but she did her best to ignore it. that’s all she could do right now, anyway.

when chaesol pulls out the sweater she can’t help but grin a little. it’s a functional piece, because chaesol knows her well, and at the commentary she grins lopsided, taking the sweater in her hands to feel it’s weight. “yeah, gray, you really took a big chance on that huh,” she laughs, an oblique gesture to a heather gray sweater, a dark gray zip up over it. she pulls off the hoodie to exchange for the sweater immediately - she’s been cold all morning, having forgotten to check the weather forecast as usual. it’s weighty and warm and if she knew much about craftsmanship she would admire that too, but she doesn’t, so expertly knit fibers and well spun wool are lost on her in the moment, in favor of appreciating the softness. “it’s perfect,” she admits, hesitating, “i didn’t bring anything for you. but i could get something. if you need any… boosters or..” she trails off, an awkward air descending as she shifts in place. 

the edges of an upper set of teeth dig into the plushness of a bottom lip, long strands of hair falling into her sightlines; eager pupils drinking in every moment that occurred before her with means to store each motion, and each word, as a positive memory. honestly, she had no idea that it would be awkward to reignite the once bright flames of a friendship, but she understood why it would be. it’s almost as if she knows the woman in front of her, but doesn’t, at the same time. there’s the same aura that swathes her, and the same beauty she’s always possessed, but she’s still different. so, so different. it’s indiscernible to the younger now, but she’s dedicated to relearning their language, so to speak.

she’s dedicated to relearning lee yani.

delicate fingers wrap around the circumference of the mug she holds, and with a firm grasp, she hauls it to her mouth; blowing at the surface, then taking a sip, and humming at the flavor. truth be told, chaesol simply enjoyed the simple things, most of the time. life wasn’t always so simple in the past, so much so that she’d have never taken the time to enjoy a warm beverage steeped in urban flora, no. not only did she not have the means, but back then, her focus was on how she was going to scrounge together dinner while her mother was out. groceries were never adequately stocked, but she made up whatever she could with whatever little they did have. it was an endless guessing game for her. somehow, she was optimistic enough to survive. if it weren’t for that, she’d surely be in a place much worse off than before. in a lot of ways, she managed to escape the mess that was her past mostly unscathed, but she knew that life wasn’t as kind to everyone, and for that, she hoped that she didn’t come across as prissy, or fake, now that she was making a living for herself. sure, she was able to dress more lavishly now, and sure, she made an obnoxious amount of money off of her creativity alone, but she was still a child of elysium; still a child of the tar, the neon lights, and the overwhelming pollution.

that in mind, she wonders what yani thinks of her now. though they must’ve shared similarities with one another, they still led contrasting lives. hopefully, all of this wasn’t overkill for her sweet cohort. if it was, she’d never be able to forgive herself. that much was certain. “i’m glad you like the tea. to be honest, i was afraid you’d think i was trying too hard to impress you.” she shook her head, smiling all the while. “i just remember always wanting to have tea parties when i was little, but i didn’t really have any tea for said parties. i guess i’m just making up for the lost time, or whatever.” she realized she probably sounded lame, so she thought it best to pause for a moment. she wouldn’t want the older to feel uncomfortable, anyhow. that said, as hunger was made aware, chaesol nodded in agreement; her own stomach beginning to growl due to lack of nourishment. she’d been worked so thin lately that she was forgetting to eat, so she knew that this reminder should be taken seriously. both for her, and for yani. though what came first was the opening of a gift, and once compliments were exchanged, she offered yet another grin. 

it was hard for her not to.

“glad to know that i didn’t totally miss the mark, and not to blow my own horn, but it looks so good on you.” she lilted, shrugging her shoulders. “if you ever need it repaired, too, just bring it back and i’ll make it look as good as new. as i’m sure you know just as good as i do, it’s not easy to destroy your outfit in elysium.” though, when the mention of a present in return was mentioned, she shook her head; soft laughter escaping her in that same moment. “i don’t think any of that will be necessary, to be honest. as cheesy as it sounds, your company is more than enough.” inhaling, then exhaling a sigh, she decides to change the subject. 

still, a smile slides into place when she stops in front of him. for no real reason, perhaps just in anticipation for a subtle sort of barb. maybe he’s leaning on the wrong pillar, blocking an avant garde design she’s strung up on a model. jinsol quirks a brow, a subtle lift that matches his hand as he swallows down another sip of his drink. spirits on the job – unprofessional. lately, jinsol’s been showing a lot of unprofessionalism though, and he hasn’t been called out on it yet. and it’d be stranger still to settle into the revelry with none of his own. or: explaining away budding alcoholism. 

“what?” he finally asks her. “you want to buy?” it’s a joke, and he waits for a scoff.

being ahn chaesol is difficult. incredibly, INCREDIBLY difficult.

her name was present in the mouths of others, even if she didn’t know them all too well. it was a fact of life that she had to accept after she decided to make herself, and her craft, objects of public opinion. fashion was subjective, after all. what she deemed beautiful could be someone else’s worst nightmare. that, though, is what she loves so much about it—that uncomfortable risk. she paraded around afterlife dressed to the nines in articles of clothing she created for fun; created for herself. that was when she became the most pleased with her work. however, just because she adored how she looked doesn’t mean that everyone else would feel the same as she did. hell, some might look at her and wince, or frown, or even point and laugh, and those negative opinions could just as easily hurt business. while she hasn’t had a proper complaint from her clients yet, she’s definitely witnessed when individuals turn their noses upwards in disgust as she walks by—some are bold in that way.

so, anytime she leaves her house, she feels an immense pressure to look her best. she can’t ever afford to be lazy. her head would be on a chopping block if she were. that’s why she’s almost afraid of her current mental state. lately, she’s found it painstakingly difficult to create anything. it was almost as if she was tired of her ideas and how repetitive they seemed. there was a desperate need for her to reinvent the wheel somehow—to further create trends. the journey to that space in her imagination was proving to be arduous, and she hoped that by leaving the confines of her condo, she would be able to stumble upon some much-needed inspiration. she searched for it wherever she could. however, as her pupils made their way throughout the club she was becoming unfortunately familiar with, they landed upon a man she’d been drawn to for quite sometime now, but she had no idea why.

it wasn’t as if she was physically attracted to him, no. it also wasn’t as if she found his overall personality pleasant either. if anything, she had the opposite reaction. to chaesol, jinsol was a figure cloaked in murky mystery, but said cloak wasn’t her exactly her style. they led different lives—that much was obvious—but she was beginning to realize that she shouldn’t house any judgement for him due to that. however, just as she began to familiarize herself with his contour, a thought struck her; one that she was admittedly mortified by. in that instant, she recalled a conversation with a friend of her’s where, in the midst of the pair discussing her recent woes, they mentioned psychedelics, and how they could benefit her during slumps. back then, she laughed it and rolled her eyes at the possibility, but now, she was at a place where she had to deeply consider all options... no matter how burdensome they seemed.

so, naturally, she approached him.

she wasn’t exactly met with warmth, though, which she expected, but when his “joke” was made, she sighed; not ready to admit defeat just yet.

she didn’t want to give him the pleasure.

"i’m beginning to think that it’s your personal goal to corrupt me, jinsol.” chaesol teased, her plump pout spreading into a smile. “didn’t realize that that was such a huge kink of yours.” in that same moment, one of her hands reached over to nudge him playfully before she pulled it back; using it, then, to reposition the hair draped over her shoulder so that it hung uniformly over her back now. she took a brief pause to think—did she actually want to do this? was she really that desperate? never in her life would she want to turn into someone like her mother, or hell, even like jinsol, but she felt like she was at a loss, and she seriously had no idea how to remedy her problem. maybe, just maybe, he had the proper “medicine” for her?

swallowing her pride, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked back over to him; a pearly set of upper ivories sinking into the cushion of her lesser lip briefly before she decided to speak.