Minho shifted in his slumber trying hard to not get into a nightmare. But unfortunately, his subconscious was pulled into it. Again. It wasn't just any nightmare. It was too real to be just a nightmare more like an unforgettable memory.
The details of it way too vivid - blush peonies, the choir humming amazing grace to the pianist's music. A baby sleeping peacefully in his favorite aunt's embrace. The groom a bit nervous yet excited to give the mother of his child the best life ahead. The younger best man giggling as the older nagged the groom to fix his locks of hair waving.
The crowd getting up to greet a father-daughter duo as they enter the aisle. He meets a familiar set of eyes. The face looked his own. 'I wish time stopped here. None of it would have happened but it did not stop.' the twin-face whispered as he pulled out a gun and shoot in the opposite direction and the whole scene turns black.
Minho woke up as his eyes popped open with the terrible images still flashing in front of him. His heart pounding with the adrenaline rush. He looked around for something he could recognize to make sure the nightmare was gone.
As he inched to grab the tumbler of water on his beside his bed lamp, a sound clicked in his study. Carefully pulling his loaded gun which usually lay under his pillow he moved to the study room from the attached door as he felt a person's presence on his black arabesque chair, he held the gun in a firing position on the person's back.
The person was neither surprised nor shocked as the weapon touched him. 'Again that nightmare huh?' the person asked sipping a glass half-filled with scotch.
'When did you come back?' Minho asked as he scratched the back of his head in a sigh at his best friend's skill to crack any lock.
'Just an hour ago. You are a heavy sleeper do you know that?' Key said turning to face him still not letting the glass in his hand go as Minho chugged the raw liquor directly from the bottle.
'I have to kick you out the gang if you keep breaking into my house Kibum.' Minho said sitting on the desk as Key helped himself with some more scotch.
'You have been saying the same thing for eleven years Choi Minho.' Key stated sipping the drink as both best friends admired the night view of Tokyo Tower.
✤
'Kiss me hard before you go...' a classic Lana Del Rey summertime sadness begins playing on the radio with the volume on minimum. Hyuna picks up her palette, still wet from the acrylics smeared on it that she used last night. She ties her hair into a messy bun, placing a paintbrush in to hold it in place for a while.
As the song progresses to hit the bridge, the brush drops letting out her hair locks free but it doesn't affect her concentration as she uses her whole right palm to paint the abstract portrait. As the song ends she lets out a satisfactory smile staring at the canvas that lay in front of her.
The red paint dripping down her slender fingers, a portrait which resembled her lavish yet pathetic life - a face barely recognizable masked with red paint.
She pours herself a cup of coffee from the electric kettle and leans on the cushions next to the french windows of her studio. The rain drenching almost everything in the sight.
She wiped down the window with her loose cardigan sleeve to clear the condensed surface so she could have a better look at the weather, the sun wasn't out yet and it did not seem like it would anytime soon.
She hated the rainy season because it confined her already restricted life to just the house. The house she shared with three other people - a secretary to report back every single detail to her father, a chef who never spoke much rather than ask or nod at her preferential menus, and a bodyguard - the only person who could keep her sane.
If the weather was clear she could at least roam around the museums a bit, draw inspiration from the cute couples at cafes, love was never negligible after all it was Paris. The city of love.
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