#ji: rep

ᴊɪʏᴇᴏɴ & ᴀsᴀ ▌     Looking over the theatre, she felt so trapped. In the mousetrap, she felt herself have been forced from her life as she walked into the auditorium. She wished not to be here any longer but as if her ghost was locked to this venue, all she could do is find her seat. The seat her father swore was the best in the entire house whenever she would ask him why they sat here to watch the dancers versus in the box seat like her classmates’ families did. She could almost hear him telling her again. This is where her father sat when he watched her mother dance. It was here in the third row back center stage did he say the sweet spot existed. The orchestra was far enough away but the stage was just the right distance. Her bottom lip trembled softly as the curtains rose and the dancers lined in their positions. When they aligned, she saw him. 

His form was perfect. Her mother taught her in the studio there on the island she raised. Moving gracefully and moving with precision. It all made him an incredible dancer. He deserved his title. Primo Ballerino. He was the star in her eyes, and she fixated as the show went on. Then it ended. 

She sat in her seat for a long time afterward. Eventually, she was recognized and greeted by the event director. It was not a long conversation. A thank for her family’s continued support and a comment about how she trilly looked just like her mother. It was standard, and she knew it would not break her from the stance. “Can I stand on the stage? This was one of her dances, and I want to know what she saw,” Jiyeon inquired causing a sigh from the man before he allowed it. He offered to send that dancer that she liked so much as well, the one she watched and the one that played the role opposite to what her mother would have tonight. She stood on stage now and her eyes looked onto the now emptied audience but was more hindered by the lights. Holding her hand over her eyes, she spoke the approaching dancer. “How can you perform under these lights, sir?”

ᴊɪʏᴇᴏɴ & ᴇʟɪᴀs ▌     He grew quiet, and she wondered if her oddity made him uncomfortable. This insecure thought was pushed aside with his choking and quick recovery, and soon she found herself smiling at him again as he spoke. “It’s very contradicting that you say not much then share glimpses into your life, glimpses like flower petals from the roots of you, that are like a tigerlily in a dandelion field. If you are not much, I would love to meet someone that was so much because that would be the most amazing human being then,” she expressed before taking out her compact and looking over her own features. Titling her head upward and so the side then downward, she sighed softly. “Could you take the photo in black and white. I should have worn my hair down,” Jiyeon agreed and requested before looking back to the male with her nose scrunched. “I’m seeing my boyfriend tonight. He loves when I wear my hair up, but this has been an active day.”

ᴊɪʏᴇᴏɴ & ᴜ̷̡̼̲͋̓͠ͅɴ̶̜̙̀̀͊ş̵̛̺͕̳̯͗ᴜ̸̳͚͉͝ʀ̶̛̺͈̇͂͊͘ᴇ̷̽̀̌̍̈́͜͝   ▌     It was a dream she had had many times. So many stories throughout history start like this, but there is a truth in that pattern repeated from storyteller to the listener. Some stories we know all too well. Jiyeon was sleeping now, and a scene played out like it had before. Maybe, as it always would.

Sitting on the dock, she was waiting. Jiyeon knew where she was. She was home. She was on the port of the island she’d know all her life. The place of beautiful hiking trails in lush forests and steeps filled with wildflowers. On the far end, there were large resorts, but now, everyone seemed to be inside. It seemed so empty.... The weather was bad. The morning fog turned the dock into a white glow, but she couldn’t feel the coolness. Everyone was inside. Her mother was home, and she was waiting for her father like she had so long ago in real life. Something hurtful grew in her heart. It had been a long time. She was a woman now. Why hadn’t father come? She’d been waiting. He was not going to come. He was dead, and she couldn’t see him again. 

A few tears left her eyes as she hugged her knees, and soon she felt him there. “Appa is not coming home anymore. I have to tell eomma...,” she whined to the stranger before she realized her mother was not home either. She had died as well. She looked to the stranger. “I’m so scared. I didn’t get to say sorry,” Jiyeon confessed before she remembered something else. He’d never been there before. The stranger was not from here, and mother warned her of the strange men that would come on the tourist boats. “You shouldn’t be here. Everyone is inside. You shouldn’t be out here with me,” she informed him of his place as she looked at the fog over the sea. “Why aren’t you inside?” Jiyeon questioned again. It all repeated except for him. The stranger was new.

┖ Meme: RANDOM SENTENCE STARTERS

배지연 ▌    "Do you really think I am the right person to challenge, sir?” Jiyeon inquired as she shook her head softly to inform him of the answer if he had forgotten what his should be. “Yah, Park Chanyeol! I have been nothing but unstable with you, so please don’t challenge to be crazy because I will be something so unbearable, you will regret it for years and years to come,” she loudly replied with her brows furrowed in just that motherly way. “Don’t you dare yell at me. Ever, sir,” Jiyeon added with a rather annoyed appearance.