life in this town has little joys--or so it is supposed to, demanded even by the weather and followed close by people, and so seungwan had learned -- among with many other dreadful things -- when she was two. two is the beginning of the end, but the son girl refuses to give in until she is sure the end is near, and she does not give in to feeling blue or to stop look for things that makes her happy.

and if there’s a thing, it’s grocery shopping. it just has that calm atmosphere which not even the rude people and the ugly scenario can bother; on the end of the day, rare colorful shelves among snow white bright halls makes her less anxious than it probably should. the short female blames it on the hunger that eats her up by the evenings, making her lust for anything other than unhealthy snacks that only one supermarket by the uptown still has in stock.

the thrusday comes within a blink of an eye, while seungwan can’t blink her own. the always there bags under her eyes are more prominent by now, turning darker at every turn of night she keeps herself awake by her window, sewing invisible gashes on costumes, watching dead stars and waiting for things that are long forgotten. she knows how to hide them, though. make-up always came in handy at these times, just enough to conceal the proofs of her insomnia and to make her seem alive, rosy and content.

tonight is no different. she wears her clothes comfortable, as always. hyejin might be seen wearing tight dresses and high stilettos sometimes, but a blue long sleeved shirt and black jeans, paired with sneakers are enough for seungwan. the storyteller is in the process of fixing her hair, brushing the soft curls to her chest when she hears them. the bells are loud, but they do not come from the last house of the corridor’s door--they come from the next door’s fighter’s neck and wrists, a as melodious as mildly annoying sound echoing through her house until it’s just by the door of the son children’s old bedroom.

seungwan loathes being a lady. she loathes how her hair now has to be tied up well and pretty because she is supposed to and not because it gets in the way, and how she must always be the tidiest with her heels and fake smiles. she loathes the smell of blood coming from her and the monthly pains it brings, the too tight bras and how she must now take care of her figure because so is expected of her. but most of all she loathes this academy, its snow white walls and stuck up teachers, who themselves loathes little girls like seungwan.

in fact, she had arrived the place with intentions of making this a good – and short – stay, but her hopes have been constantly crushed since the first week there, when she was caught sewing a friend’s ripped and dirty shorts and was punished to kneel on tiny rocks for hours, until her knees were bloody and gross. they did compliment the stitches though, she tries to cheer up herself at the memory, but too sensitive thirteen year old seungwan, by then, only missed her home, mother, brothers and even father even more.

but the worst of it, she decides, it’s when they say she shouldn’t spend her time with dreams and stories, when she was by the window at economics class. the lecture then – and now -- is as long as it is dull, and even so seungwan hears it so many times people actually know her, even two years later, by the storyteller, as if it was something terrible, like a bloody corpse or a murderous mermaid (principal jung says they are terrible stories, and no lady should know them at all). in that manner, as the dreams become more vast and different and continuous, her friends list lowers miserably and the short female gets used to being alone.

yet, being especially disliked still leaves a bitter taste on the tip of her tongue even after she has brushed her teeth, and being around jung soojung often brings such feeling back to surface–which, apparently, has become something quite constant since soojung has been moved to the bed on the side of hers, and it’s not uncommon for seungwan to either write before falling asleep or when she has waken up – even if abruptly – if not both, only to find the girl staring at her.

seungwan has always secretly thought she’s quite the masochist for keeping herself up for so long all the time -- it also shows how fucking strong you are to them, girlie -- but sometimes she can snap out of her drowsy daze to find out she’s not the only one going through that. it happens at late nights for years now, when her head is hurting even though hyejin has already slipped her a special juice -- the glamour tastes like the worst medicine, but it does wonders truly -- and she’s tired and her body feels like being grounded. 

hyejin is not an option, that she knows well, despite how much she might be fond of the blonde female--actually, all of her friends are not the type she needs at these times, when it’s dark and she’s tired: she needs a mother. seungwan doesn’t try to think much of her kind, gentle mother, the one who hid the kiss on the corner of her mouth and always smiled warmly after putting her siblings to bed -- she also doesn’t think of the mother who allowed her to be sent off somewhere, the mother who focused too much on her husband’s moods and the mother who abandoned her children -- but after the entire day playing that part herself, the character has to be put away and the girl would like to rest.

she had told them. seungwan had told the teachers and he supervisors and her classmates also, but none would hear that the counting was wrong, that one would be left -- a classmate whose ambition was to work on her father’s bank also meekly mentioned the fact to the teacher, but was ignored nevertheless -- and, maybe because of that, was the very short fourteen-year-old girl the one to stand in front of the shop alone in line, while the rest of the class took their measures and enjoyed their time on the cooling and cozy room.

meanwhile that, the brown-haired remained on her spot outside. the sounds of joy coming from the clothing store should bother her -- this wasn’t the first time seungwan came to be the one to stand out of the “fun”; on that way she wouldn’t “corrupt” anyone, she had heard before -- but instead it makes her turn her back to the door and to focus on the phone she shouldn’t have. be alone, even in a strange neighborhood, was better than to be with people she wasn’t fond of, that’s for sure.

she gives one glance by her back to check where’s the attention is before quickly dialing the first number on the list, only to let out a happy sigh along with a joyful exclamation when the youngest of her brothers pick up the phone. “are you done with homework? go pick up your notebook. no, i don’t have one with me right now, but my memory is still fresh, i’m fine. yes. where’s hyung? well, nevermind then--”

it is a fact, and a well known one, that son seungwan doesn’t mind helping--what probably makes her the only person in the entire town to fall under that category. the girl doesn’t know what it is, but there’s just a burst of happiness inside her heart to see someone happy because of something she did, and when it comes to friends or her work, it’s just impossible for her to deny an opportunity to feel that way again, despite how selfish that might sound.

but then, sometimes it’s too much, and not even seungwan can deny it when her boss calls her as soon as her lunch is finished, way before working hours, so she can help him out with “something” and all, by then, she can think of is that she is thankful hyejin is not around (or the green pixie would try to shoot you again, birdie. wouldn’t she?).

twenty minutes later, safe and sound and with no bullet or rock wounds, she stands in front of her boss, a frown marking her face and mouth slightly agape as if she was horrified. the short girl could be fine with helping around and fixing any issue that might come up, but sometimes this man was too much. seungwan was not his handywoman--she had a few jobs besides this one and they required that her time would be used better than in cleaning the place of her night shifts.

but as the man continues to speak, she realizes this is a lost case. the theater was falling to pieces and dust, the last one even starting to gather around on the front seats, so the writer supposes if they have the opportunity to get this cleaned to their audience, it would be now. a sigh escapes her pink lips as a sign of her resignation, and she stares as the now more pompous and content man, who is now going through papers to find something she yet did not know of. 

and while he fumbled with them, a female she did not recognize as a staff entered the dressing room, long dark hair and beautiful slightly tanned skin from her face to (probably) the end of her long legs. something in her face looked so familiar seungwan’s frown dissipated to give place to her bottom lip jutting out slightly in thought. her memory wasn’t one to usually fail, but between her dreams, nightmares and the nights spent awake, even the most healthy minds could give in sometimes (and wendy’s--oops, seungwan’s was nothing like healthy).

“her name is....ah, seoyoung? is this right? well anyways, miss seoyoung, this is seungwan and she will be helping you today and--”