#loren.

there was a frown fixed on storm's face as he watches loren approach. "don't say a word," he grumbles, unfolding his arms from across his chest to fix the fluffy bunny ears in place that were on his head. "i look ridiculous." along with the ears, black eyeliner was used to draw little whiskers on his cheeks with a matching circle on his nose. he's shirtless, donning just a pair of tight-fitting black jeans and black suspenders with combat boots to tie the 'look' together. "i look like if the easter bunny was on crack or something."

JAKE: i was driving a bit earlier , you know .. getting some errands done and i SWEAR i saw someone that kind of looked like you

JAKE: so it made me intrigued enough to check if it was you and send a text

@hrsloren​ / on a bridge somewhere leading up to the mountains late at night, a few weeks back when haejoon recently arrived in town 

to haejoon the filmmaker, ilmyo is perfect. it looks a little like it’s stuck in the past, shrouded in trees and mountains and lacking the bustle of a city like the one he grew up in, thrived in. not to mention the whispers of cases stretching a decade old and the many rumors floating in between. picturesque in a way that feels nostalgic but mysterious all at once.

but to joon independently, well, ilmyo is just a means to an end. ilmyo is work. it’s as boring as it sounds and is wholly unwelcoming to a prying stranger like himself. he can’t blame them, but that doesn’t make him resent it any less because he’s three days in and all he’s gotten are doors in his face and short answers reiterating what he already knows. all off this to say, he’s been left with all of twenty minutes of footage to sort through, half of which are useless and so his seemingly golden start has screeched to a halt. he sighs, slamming his laptop shut and pushing himself up, chair skidding back against the cheap flooring. the quiet of the room feels suffocating, prompting him to sling his secondary camera around his neck, and shrug on an oversized black jacket before slipping out of the room.

if no one else is going to give him anything to work with yet, he’ll do it on his own. 

and so he finds himself on a less-beaten trail towards the forest mountains hoping at best for some b-roll footage -- only to find something a little better. or, rather, someone. with long brown hair and her back towards him standing precariously atop the railing of a bridge. one that drops quite a ways down. 

he shouldn’t, but with the moon close to full and shining bright beside her he doesn’t think before bringing his camera up to his eye and framing her just right for a quick snapshot. the shutter gives him away and he does nothing to hide it if she turns to look, eyes looking down at the viewfinder to examine the shot. it’s quite striking, he thinks, she might like it. 

“you know,” he starts in lieu of a softer greeting, zooming into the photo for a closer look as he continues, “i’ve been here, what, three days? and everyone already hates me. so if you fall or jump right now and they find your body tomorrow, i’m ninety-nine percent sure the receptionist back at the motel i’m staying in will turn me in as a suspect and everyone else would just agree.”

when he looks up, her face is dark in the nighttime and partially obscured by a strand of hair blown by the wind, but he recognizes her instantly. it’s easy to remember someone like loren, especially under the circumstances with which they met. he grins. he never knew how relieving it would feel to see a familiar face in a place like ilmyo.