ᴘᴀʟᴇ ɢᴏʟᴅ.

Point taken. Youngkwang is never anxious, not in the least unless it involves his diagnosis. This doesn’t have to do with any of that, because it doesn’t feel the same way. His heart doesn’t twist, it doesn’t feel like he can’t breathe. He’s just incredibly and utterly empty; echoing like a lonely room.

It’s like he’s working via autopilot, barely grasping at the words she had thrown at him. Normally, he wouldn’t be surprised. Seul’s temper could and had a tendency to flare up, but mainly in the form of shutting off completely. He knows her better than he wishes he did sometimes.

The car ride there is silent. He sits behind the wheel and drums his fingers at an irregular beat to music that doesn’t play. He doesn’t have any concerns about completing his military service, no; that’s not the problem. His concern lies with Yang Seul, a woman with the palest of necks, often adorned by his own jewelry. Even if she is decorates by stunning beauty, there’s more to her than just that (although Youngkwang rarely wants to admit that to anyone but himself). They’re so alike, yet so far apart. A woman who wants to please her parents, be the perfect little daughter. A man who wants to be associated with his company and nothing else, especially not his father. In this contrast it appears as if one is the leader, and one is the follower. But he knows it’s just a mask, Seul knows very well how to lead. It’s one of the reasons why he even bothered pursuing her, the various traits she can both display and pull back into her head within an instant.

He’s at fault, too. It’s far from fair to tell your partner that you’re leaving for fourteen months the day  before departure. It might even be classified as cruel.

Youngkwang can’t wait much longer on finishing his service. He needs to get back to work; before he’s even left he’s thinking of all the responsibilities being left behind. Seul being one of them. She’s so young, she probably still hasn’t realized what and who she wants. The risk is that she’ll be gone by the time he comes back, at least that’s what he predicts based on yesterday’s tantrum. But she’s not always easy to understand, whether or not he knows how to read her.

Making his way onto the train station, he sees the sun rise at the edge of an apartment complex in the horizon. The skies mixes in blood and cotton candy, freshly pressed orange juice oozing into it. Loads of loved ones bidding farewell with tears in their eyes, wavering voices and tight embraces. He’s not exactly repulsed by it, but it all seems too cliché. Like it’s a film rather than reality. He passes bodies, meets with the eyes of his future comrades. There’s no substance behind them, just tears and wet eyelashes. Eventually, he comes to a stop. Somewhere on the platform he finds enough room to rearrange his backpack, straighten his back. The surroundings don’t affect him—but the absence of his woman does.

Even when time passes, Youngkwang somewhere in his temporarily boyish heart wishes she’ll come running. She won’t; but with a brain ready to board the train, the heart still lingers. Just a few more minutes, a few more glances to the stairs that lead up to the station. Rationality does take over after a while, when shoulders shrug and hands clasp around the straps of his bag. Youngkwang corrects his cap and turns around to place his foot on the first step.

And so he hears a much too loud voice which is on the verge of startling him. It doesn’t stop him to begin with, until he can make out what the yell had contained. It’s a name he recognizes, because it’s his own. His head turns around faster than he could imagine, for the first time in his life embarrassed. All the eyes that still remained, both outside and inside of the train, were directed at the female who had yelled. This was even more cliché, even more like in a movie. He hated it, yet he found no reason to care. Why? Because she was here.

She’s here.

His feet refuse to move, rather just blatantly staring at the familiar paleness. There are many firsts today. This is also the first time he has seen her the least amount of disorganized. Slightly disheveled hair, a crooked edge of her dress, a necklace with the locket thrown to her back.

Their visuals were far from those of relatives, much less siblings, so one could only assume the two were lovers, perhaps even acquaintances with unresolved feelings. Nevertheless, the two assumptions would only be half-right. They were never on good terms with simplicity.

     Seul was skilled in a wide range of disciplines, yet this never made up for how miserable she was at expressing her feelings. Love and other things.

Perhaps this is why she appeared as out of place as she did on this train platform, with unstable breaths and a mess of loose tresses threatening her modest updo. Had she even once taken a glimpse in the mirror? She hadn’t thought about it until now, a fleeting thought soon forgotten the moment Youngkwang had come into sight. A thought replaced by one that contemplated running to him. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. As daring as she had proven to be already, people were watching.

     She wouldn’t run to him. He wouldn’t run to her. This was the summation of their entire relationship. No matter how much one desired the other, no matter how much one loved the other, and no matter how much one would miss the other, they would not say it.

Her chuckle was cold. His first expression alone spoke at a comfortable volume: she shouldn’t have bothered with the commotion. Despite the man he was beneath his gold watch and luxury button downs, the man she’d gotten to know so intimately, he’d never project any notion of their bond. No matter the how little of time remained between them, he’d never shed his exterior. As rebellious as he made himself out to be, he too was a product of this world, where image was indispensable.

It isn’t as if she’s in any position to criticize, though. She’s much the same in every aspect, regardless of the denial she professed whenever he made parallels.

It’s quite difficult to imagine how Seul was able to find flaws in this picture-perfect spectacle. Seul the Cynic. Make no mistake — the female’s emotions were ripping at the seams. She wanted nothing more than to be held by him, and tell him everything she hadn’t the night before. But nothing was as romantic as it seemed, and simply put:            He should have run to her. Instead, he took long strides.

She has trouble facing him once he stands before her. Her gaze instead rested on the camouflage pattern of his sleeve. Such an eyesore, she thought, she wouldn’t dare allow herself to be seen in public with him if he sported such an unappealing combination of greens and browns. Really, this was all an attempt to conceal how bashful she had become in his presence. She hadn’t applied any blush this morning, yet her cheeks were a rose tinge. She naturally met his gaze almost as if on cue, in an attempt to prove that the woman before Youngkwang was indeed his other half.

But as her name left his lips, she had suddenly felt a slap of discouragement. Was he always this cold? No — not when it came to her. Never in private. Yet, his tone was nowhere near as desperate as hers, failing to give little insight to the feelings they had professed on countless occasions of daybreak, where she had found herself residing in the comfort of his arms, attempting to recall when she had ever felt so complete. She found herself at a loss for words, hesitating to combat this notion of disappointment, and rather than provide Youngkwang with an explanation for her actions, she began to mentally prepare herself to leave with an averted gaze, even going so far as to take a step back.

     A short-lived attempt. When was their relationship ever dependent on words? As refined as their rhetorics were, they shared an unspoken preference for actions. After all, success required initiative, not diplomacy: the mindset of true millionaire children. Business ultimately ran throughout their veins, whether or not they embraced it.

It’s rather astonishing how a mere kiss can make her come so undone. Only a moment prior she had begun to regret her place on this platform, and now here she stood, a hand grasping onto the polyester of his new uniform, hoping to eradicate any remaining atoms that separated his lips from her own. She can’t seem to depart, but when they did, their jagged breaths were synchronized, and something indistinct was whispered between the two. Their eyes met again if only for a second (and still, his glare is unwavering),      “Why didn’t you run to me, the moment you saw me?”

This is all the female was able to muster before she receded into the crevice of his neck, her arms firmly wrapped around his shoulders. She can no longer face him, for if she continued, her pride would surely prevent her from saying all that needed to be said, words she wouldn’t permiss to haunt her for the next 14 months. She emitted a discontent sigh as she realized the absurdity she had just asked him. A few bystanders remained on the platform along with uniformed men, watching the scene before them.

     “I’m sorry.. ..,” she offered. “For everything. For last night. For leaving so stubbornly. For not embracing you enough — ” Seul paused to take a breath, rubbing her profile subtly against his skin.      Her tone was now laced with frustration. “I’m sorry for being so goddamn difficult. But even so, you can’t just leave me. I don’t want you to. Not yet. Not if you’re not able to caress my face after a day or two’s time.”

At that moment, 14 months seemed like an apparent eternity. 56 weeks. 425 days. Her embrace around him grew tighter (if that were even possible), and she rose her head so that her gaze once again met his. When would be the next time she’d get to see him like this? Time wouldn’t come to stop just because she wished for more of it. It was during this encounter where she came to realize three of life’s coldest realities:            The young heiress could, contrary to popular belief, not get everything she wanted.            Her greatest desires were beyond the scope of what money could buy.            Yang Seul was undoubtedly in love.

                ⊰— ⚜ : the rest lies here. —⊱

The ride isn’t long. Before he knows it, the coal-black vehicle arrives in valet. Staff members greet him at the automated glass doors while long strides take him into the lobby. So far, everything seemed to appear fine and in order. Nothing out of place, nothing different. Receptionists were busying themselves with greeting guests and answering phone calls. Security made sure that no suspicious activity occurs. Everyone seemed to be doing what they were paid to do.  As soon as he finishes making his rounds on the first floor, his next point of inspection is the floor above - spa treatments, masseuse, and health and fitness center. Dark optics notices the elevator opening while a figure enters. Quickened footsteps allows him enough time to wedge his chestnut oxfords in between the closing elevator door to stop it. Once the entrance opens up again, eyes fall upon a familiar face. What have we here? ❝ Oh really? ❞ A brow lofts, studying her features carefully. ❝ I never took you as the type to stop by unannounced. ❞ The raven head takes a step inside and watches as the door shuts. ❝ Does your father know you’re here? ❞ Pause. Hand outstretches towards the buttons. ❝ To which floor shall I be escorting you then? ❞

➳   Despite hailing from families in overlapping industries, his father a hotelier hers a real estate magnate, she was never particularly close with the property’s heir. Then again, making friends with fairly important people was never an interest to the young heiress (it wasn’t as if she had any urgency to ‘climb’ to the top; after all, Yang Group dominated the property stratosphere, whether it was development or operations). 

Much to her mother’s dismay, the woman was no socialite. As pleasant as demeanor was, Seul was ultimately a reserved woman, speaking only when spoken to and present only when need be. Perhaps if it weren’t for her elegant charm, her unparalleled beauty, and her holistic talents, she would’ve so easily faded into the crowd of wealthy children, so easily blended into the white semi-gloss interior of Hotel Soleil’s elevator. 

     But Yang Seul had a presence that dominated everywhere she went, even in matters where she wished to so desperately remain unnoticed. If she came to fail at anything, it was not standing out.

And so there she stood before the young CEO, poised as usual though her mind rapidly scrambled for a response. He was assessing her, expecting a justification—perhaps even hoping for something incriminating. What could she tell him? What explanation would both her and her father’s pride allow? Evidently, he had no knowledge of her coming to Soleil, for if he did he would have no-doubt sent his best men to stall the female. Or at the very least, sent her a voice message indicating his disappointment.

          And indeed, he had every right to be disappointed.

     The young female’s chuckle was curt. “You say this as if I’m an adolescent girl. Isn’t it apparent that I’m an adult? I have no obligation to inform my parents of my whereabouts, much less ask for permission.”

At this point, her body had grown tense, her posture impeccable as she calculated her next move. How could she possibly remain in a rival hotel so nonchalantly, so casually accept his offer to input Floor 2, as if this were not a complete act of treason? Yonghwan would surely never allow her to live it down, and if news broke out to the press, neither would anyone else.

Seul checked her phone momentarily, then cleared her throat as if to commence her explanation. “I was actually supposed to meet a client of sorts here, a very important donor to the museum I work at, but it seems as if she’s wished to reschedule,” Ah, yes. Perfectly plausible.      “As much of a pleasure as it was running into you, Yonghwan-ssi, perhaps I ought to go—” She bowed her head, her gaze fixated on her onyx pumps as she proceeded to place one heel in front of the other toward the elevator’s exit. 

PLACE IN SOCIETY

Financial: Wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty

Medical: Fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged

Class or caste: Upper / middle / working / slave / Unsure

Education: Qualified / unqualified / studying

Criminal record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no

FAMILY

Married - happily / Married - unhappily / engaged or betrothed / partnered / single / divorced / separated (presumed to partake in an arranged marriage with a fellow heir. )

Has a child or children / has no children / wants children

Close with sibling(s) / Not close with sibling(s) / Has no siblings

Orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by birth parents

TRAITS + TENDENCIES

Extroverted / Introverted / in between

Disorganised / Organised / in between

Close minded / Open minded  / in between

Calm / Anxious / in between

Disagreeable / Agreeable / in between

Cautious / Reckless / in between

Patient / impatient / in between

Outspoken / Reserved / in between

Leader  / follower / in between

Empathetic / Unempathetic / in between

Optimistic / pessimistic / in between

Traditional / modern / in between

Hard working / lazy / in between

Cultured / un-cultured / in between / unknown

Loyal / disloyal / unknown 

Faithful / unfaithful / unknown

BELIEFS:

Monotheist / polytheist / atheist  / agnostic / ( more interested in the art of religion and its influence on society rather as an actual practice.)

Belief in ghosts or spirits: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

Belief in an afterlife:  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

Belief in reincarnation:  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

Belief in aliens:  yes / no / don’t know / don’t care

Religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious

Philosophical: yes / no

OPINIONS

Pro-suicide / anti-suicide / doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-euthanasia / anti-euthanasia / doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-choice / anti-abortion /  doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-marriage / anti-marriage / doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-death penalty / anti-death penalty / doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-drug legislation / anti-drug legislation / doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-murder / anti-murder / doesn’t know or on the fence

Pro-cannibalism / anti-cannibalism / doesn’t know or on the fence

Left wing / right ring / middle / doesn’t know or on the fence 

SEXUALITY + ROMANTIC INCLINATION

Allosexual / Asexual

Alloromantic / Aromantic

Sex repulsed (more chaste than anything, for the sake of being proper.)  / sex neutral / sex favourable

Romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favourable

Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious

Potential sexual partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

Potential romantic partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

ABILITIES

Combat skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

Literacy skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

Artistic skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

Technical skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

HABITS

Drinking alcohol: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Smoking: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Other narcotics: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Medicinal drugs: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Indulgent food: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

Splurge spending: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess