Broken Soul Collide

Chapter 1: POINT OF VIEW

Disclaimer: I own nothing of it, including pictures, audio/musics and the characters. However, I do own the plot. I don't make money of it. I write for fun.

Warning: Out of Character

Audio titled: AT MY WORST

Chapter
I
Point Of View
(How We Perceived The World)

***

Seo Moon Jo was alone.

It was a fact that he had accepted long ago. As a child, little Moon Jo had endlessly wondered and mourned over his apparent inability to make friends. As a grown man, however, he had accepted this as a simple truth and was no longer bothered by the prospect. They maybe impressed by his charm and awed by his good looks but at the end of the day, they either would not stay or had an ulterior motive. For whatever reason, people did not  like him, and that was that.

When the tall, black haired man got out of bed that morning, he had met the day with the same peaceful resignation that he did all the others. He would go to college, go to work, and then return home, doing things of various importance for a small while before finally retiring to his bed until the crack of dawn awoke him once more. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. It was consistent, familiar, and even though he had no one to talk to as a friend—it was painless. After all, watching the interactions between others was sufficient enough.

People were interesting, he had never entirely understood how the human social structure worked. Observing people was like learning the way his world spun. He had  been watching from the outside for a long time, in fact, Moon Jo had gotten frighteningly accurate at reading people. He could see past their false politeness and pretenses behavior that he was able to dive deep into their true motives, as if they were nothing but a thin sheet of glass.

All he ever wanted was your money, he'd predict, or she is only using you so she can make her ex-boyfriend jealous. For a while, it was like a game; Moon Jo would figure out why one person would cozy up to another, then would wait and see if he was right.

It was disturbing how many times he was correct.

That was most likely part of the reason Moon Jo was able to accept not having people around him. The relationships he had observed between other people were always fake. Very few people truly cared about one another. Very few insects in this busy little ant hill would associate with another for anything less than their own personal gain.

Who would want a friend if they knew he or she was only using you as another rung in their ladder to success?

Not Moon Jo.

He had stopped participating in this game years ago.

The man had been alone from the very beginning, so it was only natural for him to be alone now.

And you know what?

He liked it that way.

***

Jong Woo had never been anything special—he'd realized that a long time ago.

He was a young man by the name of Yoon Jong Woo, with dark brown eyes, black short hair and fair complexion—he looks good, a pearly good image. The good image, maybe, but surely not as good in any other aspects.

He had used to pride himself as the perfect older brother. His parents were long gone; they'd died years before he had moved out on his own. Jong Woo, being the eldest of the family, had tried his best to raise his brother right—but the young brother of his were independent, and would not listen to anything he said. It took him a long time to accept that he was not a good enough brother, but he felt more than worthless when he had. His younger brother did not need him, never had. That was just how it was.

Then he turned to painting. It got everything out in the open for him. Art couldn't lie, like he had lied to himself all those years—like his brother had lied to him, when his younger brother called him an awesome brother. He painted abstracts, scenery, animals, and people. He honed his skills for a long time, making it his goal to get into a real art show or maybe even an art gallery, or something. He wanted to prove he was special.

For years, Jong Woo entered his art for consideration for galleries and showings and contests and everything he could think of. He got compliments, spots in small displays here and there, but whenever it really mattered, he was turned away. Eventually, he just stopped trying.

Why bother, when you'd never be anyone important? he thought. He never gave up painting—on the contrary, it was the only thing keeping him sane, but he no longer submitted any of his work. Instead, he worked as a cook in a small restaurant, just to keep living. He enjoyed cooking, but it had gotten dull after a few years of never-ending monotony. He still went to college, with an art major, but he held no high hopes of actually being someone.

He was Yoon Jong Woo, a cook in a backwater town where no one knew his name. He was a failure as a brother, and an embarrassment as an artist. But most of all, he was no one.

And no one was all he'd ever be.

***
To be continued...

Author's Note: Yes, I know I should be writing my other unfinished story but! This story keeps on playing in my head and it's bugging me. I wrote this because some people needs to learn to love themselves, to learn that in this sea of people—there is someone who is waiting to be notice, to be truthful. And I hope this story somehow will help inspire.

Thanks for reading.