#tatumvld

Although there was work to be done for each of them, the young man was rather free until the pop-up events that were set to be announced tomorrow morning, while the woman he meandered with along the paved roads didn’t have any responsibilities until the following day as well. With free hours spread out before them, it was fair to say that the boy group leader had been unsure how to fill the hours. It was unusual for them to have little to do, to have time to wander about and do a bit of exploring.

While he wasn’t necessarily the most well-versed in the area, he had been informed of various aspects of the village and its surroundings. From the parks to mountain ranges and tea houses, he knew a popular spot when he approached it, and it just so happened that this road appeared to be one of them.

Dark eyes glanced at the large sign that notified travelers as to which it was, which caused the man to cock a brow as he glanced around them. He admired the blossoming trees, giving his companion a side glance.

“What do you think? Does it live up to its name?”

They said there were seven deadly sins, but there was a single substance that could make a man perform all of them in one evening: alcohol. While there were none of the biblical monstrosities present at that evening’s party, there had been plenty of loud music and booze, a close-knit celebration at the release of yet another album, another notch on their career’s hypothetical bedpost that would perhaps continue to give them the love and care they so earnestly desired.

With the crowd cleared, the man settled onto the couch, dark, hazy eyes skimming around the now less than pristine living area. He’d done his best to keep things tidy along the way, but even he was unable to resist letting himself go once the amber filled his veins. They’d danced, they’d sang, and they’d drank enough to fill more than a few cases. Granted, he’d taken his time, drank responsibly, because even though he wasn’t one of the many driving home, he knew it was best to keep his wits about him. One wrong comment or photo could ruin the life he’d worked tirelessly to build for himself, a task by no means easy. He needed control. It was all he had.

Just as Sleep began to brush her fingertips over his eyelids, a soft yet seemingly booming knock sounded at the front door. For a moment he wondered if it were all in his head, but with another rap at the door, he staggered to his feet and wobbled forth. Placing a hand against the doorframe for support, he opened the door and was greeted with a sweetly familiar face.

In terms of feelings, he had few yet many. The situation in which he found himself was one he had perhaps never intended to, that much he knew for certain even as he clambered down the steps of his apartment building. It was late, perhaps too late to be adventuring, but he and Sleep had been having a tiff lately, a domestic, you may say.

Whenever She wanted him to come to bed, he was wide awake, the gears in his head churning and gurgling out lyrics and words strung together with an aching emotion he could only describe as desperation. Like a chisel driven between the soft folds of his gray matter, She sought to tempt him to rest, to run Her fingers over his eyelids while methodically searching for the part of his brain that would return him to a natural state of zen.

But She had yet to find it, so much so that the weight had moved from his skull to his chest, a compressed sort of feeling that pressed his lungs back against his ribs, breathing arduous and attention span waning as a blanket of mild unrest began to drape over him.

The bottoms of his sleek sneakers moved from the final step to the street’s concrete, a quiet tap affirming he was on solid ground.

The night was dark and cold, swift winds threatening him with nips at his ears and cheeks. There were many hours in a day, many in which this trip would have made more sense, but for him? Sinn Kiwon, idol? There was little opportunity to resurface without management during the brighter hours, and instead he was forced to traipse through the city under the watch of hazy street lights and glowing shop signs.

With rain puddles nearly dried, he ventured forth, beanie affixed in an effort to hide his identity, followed by a cloth facemask. If he did not fit in with the general public now—at this dark hour—then perhaps he never would.

And so on he went, through and through the night and streets, taking a taxi when his legs and constitution grew weary.

The trudging up the steps and slipping through the front door as a resident left, the young man scanned the bright phone screen in hand, noting the address before scanning for an elevator bay.

On the ride up he felt his shoulders slump, as if worn down by the trek and task at hand, eyes equally glossed with exhaustion. At the sound of the quiet ding, he moved from the elevator as the doors opened, like an obedient lab rat unable to deny the familiar and somewhat soothing sound.

Finding the apartment itself had been the least difficult task, dark eyes checking the number twice before hitting the buzzer and taking a step back. He couldn’t tell if there was a camera, but if there was he was hopeful she’d be able to tell it was him, even with his gear on.

Now that he thought of it...