#opacous

with @opacous

he blinks once, twenty minutes pass by. another blink and it’s suddenly an hour later. a half-empty glass of rum is keeping him company by his side, and tragically enough, his friends aren’t anywhere to be found in his god forsaken bar. from what dooyoung can remember, he believes he heard his friend shout at him, “i’m going, would you be able to get home too?” in the midst of stumbling out the door with a younger woman glued to him. to be honest, it was difficult as hell to hear over the deafening music, but dooyoung nodded despite the immediate challenge to find a way home. if he didn’t down several shots of... whatever he had, and this glass of rum, he’d be more than glad to drive home on this own. unfortunately dooyoung rode with the friend who left.

“let’s go out tonight,” he said, “i’ll take us both. it’ll be a treat after this shitty week, right?” dooyoung didn’t have the heart to decline due to the fact that he’s been to the local nightclub once this week already. going out on a weeknight? that’s when you know you’ve hit rock bottom; dooyoung’s been down there for quite some time now. the hangover the next morning practically made dooyoung want to shoot himself in the forehead because of the numbing migraine. he called in sick, there was no way he was going to tackle a whole 12 hour shift in the condition he was in. under some circumstances, dooyoung asked for it in the first place.

at least he doesn’t feel so hallow with alcohol swelled in his bloodstream. the best way to go about one’s troubles, right?

two hours later, dooyoung's convinced himself multiple times that he’ll find a ride home. he’s fucking sure of it. once the clock read ten minutes until midnight, his heart sank due to the sudden realization that most transportation systems are closed for the night. the bar was crowded still despite closing in about an hour, and within minutes, dooyoung noticed his other pair of friends strolling through the front door—just when he thought they left hours ago. at this point, he’s not really sure if his presence was needed tonight or perhaps it just an excuse to come drinking and pick up women. not that he’s complaining... except for the fact that he didn’t manage to succeed with the latter. maybe next time. 

at this point, dooyoung is slowly beginning to convince himself that perhaps walking home would be most convenient option. he was left by his “friends” for dead, drunk at the front counter. thirty minutes until closing and he’s found sitting by himself (minus a few other drunks) scrolling through social media like a damned loner. i should start walking. obeying the voice in the back of his head, dooyoung doesn’t hesitate to get out of the bar seat to step outside—it’s wet and beyond cold due to the rain. he’s convinced that this leather jacket isn’t enough for this shitty weather.

despite the will to start walking home, he still hasn’t left the parking lot. his eyes remain glued to his phone screen. there’s a reason why though, and thankfully, this reason might save his ass a few thousand steps. there’s a smirk suddenly widening on dooyoung’s face. he abruptly turns the opposite way to sit himself on the edge of the bar’s front walkway. it’s wet, he forgot about that fact, but he doesn’t give a damn at this point. he’s giggling to himself because damn, this is a terrible idea considering it’s nearly 1 am.

he’s dialing seongil’s number. dooyoung’s voice is deep and groggy as if he just woke up; alcohol has that terrible effect on him. the phone is ringing and ringing. it feels like forever and he has his doubts that seongil will answer but it’s worth a try.

   [ ▲— The day has started off slow and Noah finds himself appreciating the calm that has lain itself out like a veil across the shop. It has been bustling with life for the past few weeks. Busy with people who desire to decorate their skin with ink now when the chill keeps their paling complexion away from the sun’s rays with ease. Summer is the low season. Nobody wants to think about keeping fresh paint out of the sun to keep it from aging too fast. And perhaps that is exactly why opening during a time when the market isn’t too busy had been a well-thought-of idea. It had given him time to work out the details, market them fairly well with frequent social media updates for the work that was actually done, and to host various invitation events. Now, when the season is busier again, people know where to turn. And so far, it has been good. He’s far above his estimates already and remains certain that the shop will survive for at least another year. Staying on par in a city like Seoul, where trends come and go faster than passing seasons is a task on its own. Whether it be fashion, music or locations it’s always important to stay updated. Noah is determined not to let his ship sink. At least not yet. 

   He’s sitting by the counter for once, sketching lazily on a requested design for a customer who’s coming in tomorrow for their first session of what’s going to be at least twelve hours of work. Excitement would be an understatement. Noah always enjoys making bigger pieces. It allows him to showcase his skills in a manner smaller motifs doesn’t. There’s so much more room for detail work, and anyone who knows him would be aware of just how important he considers details to be. He hums along with the music on low-volume in the background, blue hues focusing on line after line drawn on sheer paper. Silvery strands cover most of his features, inked fingers of his free hand tapping against the countertop with ease. There’s barely any place that feels more like home. 

        [♚]  -- It’s hard to define this kind of curiosity. It is almost naive, the kind of curiosity flickering in the child’s orbs whenever they’re granted a new toy. The feeling accompanies Jay for a whole day already, almost filling him with an unexplained joy. Human’s joy, isn’t it?

This time it started from a mere glimpse of a gun or at least something that looked like a gun to Jay. Then a cigarette. Little things, stares. A one particular stare he shared with a stranger passing by. Stranger, it seems of course. After all, Jay is not a human being but Death that holds a recollection of all the souls. And yet, he detaches himself from the knowledge he once used to have and he risks a step, another one. Just to catch a better sight of the male’s face. Stranger, yes. 

  “-- What do people do at this time of the day in this neighbourhood? You see, I’m new around--” Actually the truth has been spoken, ha. Jay hums to himself, eyeing the man out of the corner of his eye. For a second he wonders, if he looks suspicious.

“Did you know...” he pauses to sip of his drink. He’s a rum fan, neat -- ice is for pussies and not the proper way to enjoy the liquor. “An eagle can kill a young deer and fly off with it. Raw shit right there.” David considers himself something of an eagle.

the night sky is dark and overcast. lonely streetlamps, glaring above their heads and throwing dark shadows onto their faces, are the sole source of light they have.

it’s a quiet night, the beginning of October, when the sun chooses to sleep longer and the days get colder. francis – in his younger years – would have preferred summer time, but as he grew older, he began to appreciate the secrecy the dark can promise. no one will ever know of this specific encounter.

“maybe.”

he balances his cigarette between his fingers and smoke escapes his nostrils. his gaze is shy and he does not dare spend too many glances on seongil. too uncomfortable is the sudden shift in atmosphere for him.

instead, he reaches deep into the pocket of his greatcoat. francis takes out a small golden box – other times he’d use the occasion to argue that it “is in fact made out of real gold”, but even he can read the situation.

it only seems polite to offer a cigarette to seongil, at least to him. perhaps, that way, francis can help him sober up a little. 

“nothing matters”, is his second attempt at breaking the overbearing silence between them. francis, overjoyed by this sudden courage of words, leans against his old revertible mustang and gifts his friend a smile.

how strange it must look on his lips. in his black coat, he almost looks like the grim reaper.

EDNA ST. VINCENT SENTENCE STARTERS 

hamilton   /   starter sentences.

His choice of location had been poor to begin with. The manager sat with sunglasses balanced on the bridge of his nose in the midst of a bustling cafe. He could have chosen a quieter place to get his coffee in the morning, but sometimes a man who spent so much time by himself desired the company of moving bodies. Even better that the individuals around him knew nothing of his existence, nor him of theirs. He sat with laptop propped open, the resume of a budding artist open on his screen. The soft hum of music was drowned out by the small crowd of people shuffling through the small door of the cafe after unloading from the bus stop across the street. This was the worst part of it. The waves of people who came and went with the bus. The loudest groups filled with students, parents, and workers enjoying a day off. In for two minutes to grab their coffee and out in the next, but leaving a storm behind.

Jae-sang sat watching the herd from behind his shades. They had all huddled together near the counter in an attempt to get their caffeinated beverages as quick as possible. Counting down, he watched as one by one, the passersby exited the establishment. To his dismay, one walked over to his table to ask if the seat across from him was free. In the crowded coffee shop, Jae-sang didn’t have the energy to argue about how he’d rather sit alone. Surely the man would leave soon. So he nodded and gestured to the empty seat, any inkling of emotion devoid from his features. It’s only when the stranger pulled out their phone to engage in a rather loud conversation, that his irritation got the best of him. 

In a matter of seconds, Jae-sang had reached forward to snatch the man’s phone out of his hand, speaking into the receiver. A quick, “He’ll call you back.” Before ending the phone call and handing the device over to the other once again. On any other day, Jae-sang would have let the conversation finish, but today wasn’t that day. Today, he’d already had enough after hearing an earful from one of his ex-assistants. He nodded at the other’s question, sitting back with an airof nonchalance.  

poetry starters  /  accepting!

winter is a great time she reckons. she likes bundling up in puffy jackets, having a scarf around her neck, feeling the warmth from a hot tea going down her throat to soothe herself from the chilly winds. she actually likes winter sans the obligation of meeting relatives.

she really wanted things to be different for her, so she can enjoy journeying home to meet her family in jeonju. she envies her friends who’d talk about how nice it is to be reunited with their families, to have homecooked meals, and to experience the nostalgic bliss of returning to your old bed room.

she doesn’t know if the problem is her or her family. but one fact she knows is that they love judging and scrutinising. (well, what family doesn’t do that?)

if she does return to jeonju, she has to put away her usual oversized shirts and jeans. she’d have to put on those frilly dresses her parents got her for the christmas dinners the family is going to throw. the dinners are always lavish; they’ll go to a chinese restaurant and book this whole room to themselves. they’d have a feast there while children exchange presents with each other (they’re too old for that now, but she loves that when she was young). it’s not that bad really. it seems fun.

which is why she wishes her circumstances were different.

Te digo que tu marido no te quiere en su vida y ha pedido el divorcio? En esta situación lo que necesita saber lo que estás haciendo o va a terminar en paz! Quiero que le diga cómo se puede salvar su matrimonio, incluso si su marido quiere el divorcio y parece imposible de ganar su corazón! Así que, ¿sabes por qué lo hizo? ¿Por qué te fuiste? Usted debe saber la razón de conseguir de nuevo. Si lo hizo este movimiento probablemente sabe el por qué y lo primero que hay que hacer es resolver el problema! Cada informe se basa en muchas cosas y si algo no funciona hace un descanso! Usted tiene que pensar que si usted vuelve, usted encontrará una manera de hacer que su matrimonio funcione otra vez! Después de la mendicidad y el llanto de una mujer nunca ayudó a conseguir a su hombre de vuelta a ella, se debe evitar esto! Los hombres no aman a las mujeres desesperadas y débil, y el pánico sólo les hacen pensar que el derecho fue cuando él pidió el divorcio. Usted lo quiere de vuelta, así que hay que atraer de vuelta! Mejorar su apariencia por la pérdida de peso y ponerse ropa nueva sexy. Irradia confianza en sí mismo y la fuerza cuando se trata de él. Muéstrale que lo quieren de vuelta, pero no están desesperados por irse y si quiere respetar su decisión! Sé que suena loco, pero tienes muchas más posibilidades de recuperarlo de esa manera!