Role Model | Lee Taeyong

Twenty-Two ☻

|| NARRATOR ||

"You think everything alright with Taeyong?"

"Yeah," Yuta reassures the other man in the car. "He said he would call us if anything happened, and I haven't heard my ringtone go off since he ran off in a hurry. The leakage in his apartment must be pretty bad."

Just as the car drove onto the highway, Doyoung, the man behind the wheel, quickly realized they had been stuck in the middle of rush hour. The cars in front of them barely moved, and it was then he really felt like jumping out of the car and letting a vehicle run him over.

"Nothing like Seoul traffic," Doyoung mutters, annoyed. Yuta only laughs at the fellow. "Trust me, Gimsan traffic is nothing compared to the traffic here. Try dealing with this five times a week."

"Five times a weak?! How are you still alive?" He jokes to the older. Neither of them expected to become so close, considering that they originally started out as coworkers, that strictly. But Doyoung quickly got to know the Japanese man and learned that they had a lot more in common than expected.

"We should visit Seoul together one day, without it being related to work." Yuta says out of a sudden. In the still traffic, Doyoung tilts his head toward the man. He chuckles softly. "You still have so much to see."

"Take me to the N Seoul Tower in winter. I heard it's beautiful then." Doyoung states, pushing his glasses to the top of his nose. The two detectives stared at each other, a smile on both of their faces. In the corner of Doyoung's eye, he sees a motorcycle squeeze through the trafficked highway until the bike is parked next to their car.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow, ready to pull out his badge and arrest the biker for illegal driving when he suddenly sees a pistol pull out of his pocket. Yuta turns around to see what Doyoung was looking at, only to have the gun point toward his head, a bullet flying out of the revolver and hitting him directly in the forehead.

Doyoung watched as Yuta fell limp against the driver's seat, the blood dripping from his head all the way down onto his lap. He reaches in for his gun in a hurry but wasn't quick enough for the man on the motorcycle who then aimed the gun at Doyoung, shooting him in the chest.

BANG!

The gun from his hand fell freely as he watched the motorcyclist drive away, the cars beside them erupting in screams and chaos. Mimicking Yuta's actions, he leaned against the window helplessly.

I should've known. Doyoung thinks. The life was slowly drifting out of his body. We'll never get to see the N Seoul Tower together.

But yet, a smile lifted onto Doyoung's face. He didn't feel any pain. He knew that it was happening, he was dying. The memories of his life were passing through his mind in an instant. The corners of his eyes were slowly fading away.

Take care of this, Taeyong. Doyoung thinks with a final grin on his face, a teardrop falling as he slowly drifted into his eternal sleep.

~

"I'm just so worried about her, doctor... I really hope she's alright."

The doctor places the hand on her shoulder. "Well, I can see you care about your sister very much, Nari. If that's the case, I don't see the harm in letting you see her for a little bit... Just be careful, she's still very fragile from the trauma of the bullet."

The doctor treads away as Narae, better known as "Nari" by the staff, enters the hospital room. The place was dimly lit by a single light, the curtain windows open to let the patient look down on the beautiful autumn scenery of Seoul.

Narae's steps slowly walked into the room as she sees the woman laying on the bed by herself. She looked like death. Her dirty blonde hair was tied up messily in a ponytail, and her eyebags were darker than the night view.

Yeri slowly turned her head towards Narae, where her eyes widen up. "H-How did you get in here?!" Yeri stutters, her body shivering as the girl walks toward her. Narae's hands were behind her back, and her hair was tied in two ponytails.

"These doctors are imbeciles. I told you that I was your younger sister and they believed me, how idiotic." Narae chuckles, taking a seat on the hospital bed. Every nerve in Yeri's body was screaming for help, but her system was too weak for her to even lift up her body correctly.

"I made a negotiation with Taeyong. But he seemed to fail the mission, so now I can do whatever I want to do with you." Narae faces the window, her eyes glowing at the city lights reflect onto her pupils.

"Why are you doing this..." Yeri was crying. The tears were streaming down her face as her hands shook severely. She didn't want to die, not like this. She still had so many things to do in her life. And it was all being taken away for what?

Narae takes out a knife, smoothing it out of her pocket as she lets her finger slide along the blade. "The thrill of making Taeyong mad is pleasurable. Everyone acts like I'm the devil is disguise, like I'm a dirty rotten killer who finds joy in killing others. But the thing is Taeyong isn't any different."

Yeri listens quietly. "The first note that I ever let out wrote 'Jeongyeon's revenge'. Because years ago, before you knew Taeyong as you do now, he killed her." Narae spats.

The colour in Yeri's face drains away. "S-Stop. Taeyong would n-never kill someone, he's not like you! I know him-" A hand slaps against Yeri's cheek, preventing her from continuing her sentence. She looks up through the stinging pain and see's the girl's eyes darkened, her mouth clenched shut in silent outrage.

"You don't know the real Taeyong, Yeri. He's not who you think he is." She boils, her voice is low and quiet and enough to make a grown man cry. Narae backs away to catch her breath.

The silence between the two was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. A small part in Yeri was praying that Narae would walk away, leave her out of this. Nobody wants to die, especially someone who has a lot to live for.

Narae was the one who first broke the stillness. "Do you love my brother, Yeri?"

"Yes," Yeri answered right away with no hesitation. She wasn't certain about many things, she wasn't a God. But she knew that deep down, she truly loved Taeyong. She loved him like she loved the stars. She loved him like she loved hot chocolate on a December morning. She loved him like he was the only thing in the world she needed. So that's why she couldn't die, not just yet. Because she wasn't ready to let him go. His beautiful smile, his colourful hair, his piercing eyes, his short temper. All of his pros to his cons, she loved them with every inch of her soul.

Narae lets out a deep breath. "Wrong answer." She states, walking beside the hospital bed where she takes the knife and quickly stabs it into Yeri's left chest. A shaky groan comes out of her mouth as Narae slowly twists the knife that still remained inside her body.

She pulled the knife out in a haste, taking a tissue paper from the Kleenex box and wiping away the blood. Yeri silently weeps, placing her hand over her torso to try and amend her tendered wound.

"Here's a word of advice, Yeri. Don't fall for a murderer."