You in Me

10#Artist

Jongcheol was quite in high spirits. It wasn't long time ago that this strange man had said "don't talk to me", but as if he had completely forgotten this. He saw the sudden offer as a peacebuilding and was happy to have the opportunity to talk about himself.
They had walked, talking, to a street he hardly knew, and sat on the stairs at the entrance of an underpass.

"I've talked too much, haven't I? I'm sorry. I guess because I've been a listener for a long time."

Jongwoo took a sip of beer as he stared at the boy. He then smiled understandingly at him when the boy looking back at him.

"It's okay. I like the way you talk."

Jongcheol smiled slightly and tried to hide his embarrassment and drank his beer. He felt like he had poured out himself a little, and it was a feeling he hadn't felt in a really long time. He always had listened to his friends, had found solutions to their problems, and had tried to support them in every way. The reason he was able to speak this time was probably because the man in front of him was rather quiet and calm. They had been together for almost twenty minutes and more, but he hadn't even learned anything about the young man other than his name.

"No seriously, I've talked a lot. Tell me about your life. What do you do for a living, what are your hobbies?"

Jongwoo squeezed the finished beer can between his hands and threw it into the bag. He congratulated himself for being able to suppress his excitement so much. All he had to do now was let his emotions take control, which were eager to lead him.

"I'm writing a novel," he said, and leaned back.
Jongcheol's eyes lit up and he said, "Oh, that's cool."
"So about what?"

"About the artist and his art."

The young boy laughed and had to turn a little to see the gaze behind him.

"How hard to bring things out of your mouth. You're certainly not a talkative person."

Jongwoo smiled and just stared at the boy for a while. He was an idiot. What did he deserve but to die?

"Do you want me to show you?" he finally asked.
With this question, Jongcheol realized that his heart had been racing ever since he started walking with him. The young man was eyeing very different and it made him feel odd. But it was far from a bad oddity.

"Oh, the artist's art?" he asked, confused.

Jongwoo nodded as he stood up and grabbed the boy by the arm and pulled him to his side. He continued walking as they descended the stairs and entered the underpass. Jongcheol thought that this poorly lit, old underpass was frightening as he followed him.

Jongwoo stopped with the vibrating phone in his pocket and laughed when he noticed the silhouette on the road at the end of it.
Jongcheol had taken a few steps forward, but when the young man stopped and laughed, he turned to him with curiosity.

"I am the artist, Cheol-shi," he said with amusement. He stretched out his hands to the youth and grabbed his shoulders.
"And the art will be you."

The young boy didn't understand anything. He continued to look at the man who was staring at him with mad excitement. He didn't even feel the presence of the man approaching him from behind. His eyes widened with the pain of the needle dig into the left side of his neck, and he couldn't get rid of the hands holding him, even if he wanted to. His whole body began to numb, and he suddenly fell to his knees, only then escaped the hard grip. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was Jongwoo's grim-looking smile.

When Jongcheol opened his eyes, he didn't realize where he was. He hadn't had the opportunity to try to understand it.
Jongwoo approached the boy on the chair, grabbed him by the hair, and gently moved the utility knife from his forehead to his temple. How young he was.