on pieces of dyed rays | woosan

Chapter Two

Wooyoung knows he shouldn't have put off his monthly payment when he meets Jasmine sluggishly dancing to BTS at hell hour of the night in the office—office, they call, but it was more like a dilapidated warehouse at the corner of the scrapper. With the money they deliver, the owner, Mr. Seo has to be able to renovate this place in what looked like a five-star hotel's reception, but as he says, 'no unwanted attention saves our necks'.

He knows Jasmine's gotten a good pay when she's like this. Most probably from the bountiful regular that pays her double, the one she gloated at him when she said she caught a big fish. She doesn't have to worry about making ends meet with such a guy, but it's kind of risky to rely on one person, Wooyoung thinks. He'd rather have a number of so-so regulars than a single loaded one, because what happens when the guy is gone one day?

Jasmine never worries about the future though. She indulges in the moment, currently blasting her favourite songs, looking more or less like an octopus in boiling water with her moves, and Wooyoung knows it's a sign to tuck his breath in, sneak walk behind her, leave the office immediately unnoticed—only, she seems to have an animalistic sense of sensing the mortal.

"Wooyoung-ie!" She locks her arm around Wooyoung's shoulder and he gives an exasperated sigh.

"Hi, Jasmine, having a good time?"

"Fabulous!" she yells with her mouth right next to his ears, and Wooyoung tries to tame his impulse of shoving her to the ground. "I met my big Kahuna and had the best orgasm of my life."

"With your Kahuna?"

"No, dumbass!" She laughs out loud and smacks him with no reserve, and Wooyoung's back burns. "This hot dude in the club, Josh—wait, was it Hyungcheol? Or Aaron?"

"Good for you. Now, I gotta leave," Wooyoung deadpans, trying to unwrap her arms but she holds him tighter.

"Dude, I'm trying to give you a tip to enhance your sex life."

And he doesn't need one. He knows himself better than Jasmine to know what works for him, and he doesn't really take advice from people, especially the ones coming from a stoned person. But he decides to stay quiet, knowing very well she wouldn't let him go until she shows him a beacon to what she believes is the greatest fuck a person could get.

"It's the three-high theory," she announces proudly. She drags her words, either from the effect of the herb or just for the show to make it sound like a life changing declaration. "It's when you're high, and the other is high. It multiplies the high and it fucking explodes."

"Sounds like a cathartic experience." Wooyoung snorts.

"It is! You die then, and you're reborn as this new person." She cackles. "You need to try, Young-ie."

Wooyoung hums. Everyone in the group knows that despite the clear fucks he gives to the law, health and morality, he would never go down that road. She could be provoking him, or maybe she just couldn't give a damn to care about his choice. Everyone doesn't seem to care, neither does Wooyoung.

"Thanks for your wise words coach," Wooyoung says, finally freeing himself from her grip. "Maybe you'd like to extend your influence to other people too."

"I told my boyfriend we should try it some time."

"Sweet."

She starts belting out that no one can stop her lovin' herself, and twirls back to the best dancing position. Wooyoung finally steps out of a solo concert.

When Wooyoung first saw the crystals, he noticed how pretty they were. Fascinated, he stretched his small hand to grab the crystals in a small plastic zipper bag, only to be slapped by her in a frenzy—and Wooyoung could see her expression, not of fear but of madness, as if a stray dog were to guard his chicken feed. He'd asked her what it was, and she'd say it was a medicine. If there was one thing the woman needed, then it was the cure, and yet, "the medicine" seemed to not help her at all. Only worsened. "It makes me feel better," she said. "It makes me feel me."

"But you became a monster—"

***

Wooyoung has been to an amusement park once. It was when Mr. Seo decided on a whim that he'd take his workers out either to show some appreciation for their effort, or either to use them as an excuse to watch the parade at the frontline, and he guesses it's the latter.

To someone who was too used to dull lamp posts on dark streets and synthetic neon colour flashing in a box, natural sunlight was too strong and stinging to the eyes. Instead of feeling vitamin D being created on his skin, he felt like every nutrient was being drawn out when his bare skin was hit with glaring sunlight. He's only been feeding off the obscurity for all he knew.

There's no debate that his boss was the most excited one in the group. He bought everyone a headdress; Wooyoung got a mouse, while Jasmine got a duck, Jongho a bear, others a rabbit and whatever characters he had no idea of. He wonders what they must have looked like to others' eyes. A group of sick-looking adults that definitely doesn't look like a family, loitering around the magical houses with animal ears. Such an odd site.

They must have swept all the rides to kill time until the parade held in the evening, but Wooyoung doesn't remember very well. What he remembers is the uniform expression that every couple and family wore in that particular place. If the sun was stinging, their smiles were blinding. At one point, he felt acid surging from his stomach. He rushed to the shrub nearby and gagged, Jongho rubbed his back gently, while Jasmine mocked him with her usual strikingly red lips being weak from motion sickness. Maybe, just like she mentioned, it was due to vehicles soaring and falling, twisting left and right, and his body couldn't adjust to the brand new vigorous movement. But maybe it was because of those sickening blazing delight on people's faces that had not a single doubt in their bright tomorrow.

After watching the boss take probably thousands of photos of the disgustingly decorated wagons, cake-faced cheerful ladies and gentlemen walking past—the main event of the day, everyone dispersed on their own accord. Wooyoung didn't hesitate to throw the headdress in the bin of the nearest train station as soon as he got out of the place. He didn't need it to remind him of who he was—a rat crawling and sneaking in the filthy gutter of the alley.

Sometimes, Wooyoung thinks a club is very much like an amusement park. Where rainbow colour bounces off every wall, where uplifting music taps the floor, where people forget the idea of time, reveling in the moment, consumed, discard their dreary reality until they wake up the next day to snap out of their Dreamland. The only difference is, whether they are high on fake fairy tales or adultery indulgence.

He's glad that people over here don't make him puke. Most of them have their smiles on, but they are the ones no different from the ones Wooyoung wears; smiles worn by the ones who have licked foul and woe. Those that can't hide the darkness coiling behind them.

A/N:

So this probably was more or less like an intro, and actual figures start appearing next chap! :)