OBSESSION IN A PHOTOGRAPH | verivery

hiding pains to secrets

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ARTS CENTER

INCHEON, SOUTH KOREA

Staff members shuffled through the long rows of theater seats, taping laminated name cards to the cushioned backrest. A backstage crew was fixing mics onto the stage, their ears fitted with earpieces that would instruct them on what to do next by an outside voice. Their voices overlapped and got drowned out by the sound of cameras clicking abruptly.

Shouts and a few high pitched squeals echoed inside of the long concert hall as a young male with chestnut hair and highlights made his way up the semi-large steps to get to the stage. His dove grey blazer was loosened from the buttons, the white dress shirt underneath was clean too. Though, his heart was picking up speed. Sweat collected at his brow as he lowered his body to the piano bench, golden lights washed over his face, brightening the center of the stage.

Yeonho swallowed, his vision was becoming blurry as his fingers positioned themselves over the keys. A soft call made him turn, it was a familiar face that brought him comfort. That same male was standing up in the balcony seating section of the auditorium, his unreadable eyes gazing down at him, occasionally running a hand through his locks of highlighted hair. Kim Yongseung.

A commotion of thunder-like claps and praises filled Yeonho's ears. Despite the criticism, there were people that still supported him. Before Yeonho felt it, he was already playing. His hands moved swiftly along the keys, each note ringing into another rhythm. Yeonho's heart began to sink, the jeering of a crowd was haunting him as wrong notes began to surface throughout his performance.

The music piece ended.

A breath left Yeonho's parted lips. I am really not capable of coming back.

Yeonho's eyebrows furrowed, feeling the hand of his manager pulling him up and guiding him to an open hallway. The light was bouncing off the walls striked his face. His chest was rising and falling, he wasn't upset. He was enraged. Lee Dongheon was next in line to perform. Yeonho's gaze searched for other pairs of eyes but found none. He stuffed his hand into his pocket, his fingers were shaky as he fumbled with a silver lighter.

Don't smoke in front of others.

Yeonho squeezed his eyes shut, lips pressing together into a tight line. "I shouldn't do this."

The medium oak haired male shook his head at the idea of not being able to smoke, the sudden urge of inhaling such toxic chemical was potent inside him. He stepped outside of the arts center, pulling a box of cigarettes from his blazer pocket. His fingers curled over one of the cigarettes, eyes seeing the low numbers of cigarettes that were left inside.

He cupped his hand around the lighter as his thumb flickered the flint wheel of the lighter, setting off the spark of an ember to set into the atmosphere. In between Yeonho's lips was a cigarette, pressing softly as he pulled the cigarette closer to the flame. The flame ate at the cigarette, burning the nicotine around it and being taken inside Yeonho's lungs as he inhaled and exhaled sharply.

Yeonho's breaths were heavy, a relief weight resting over his shoulders as he inhaled the chemicals. His eyes slightly burned, the taste of the cigarette bitter on his tongue and fading away as he burned the cigarette away from his mouth and crushing it beneath his foot. When the male finished burning out the cigarette, he turned to see an ink haired male stepping outside.