Society is what defines us as people. Influence drives us to become who we are today. Once you drown in the peering eyes lurking on the surface, you're trapped for eternity, no way out, no one to help, just you lying in your own misery. The static voices in your head telling you who you are, who you're meant to become, the way it's supposed to be, or so you think..
Sometimes, dreams aren't meant for everyone. Forced to fulfill a duty, guided into a certain path, or perhaps it was meant to be. In the end, the choice is in your hands, whether you like it or not. You just have to pull the right cards to win the game. If you choose incorrectly, the stakes are high. You might revert back to the origin plot, but the writing will morph into something dreadful, uncanny.
In that sense, what if two different people stumble upon each other's paths? Chaos may fall, lives might vary, but will they be able to endure it all? Will they choose to press the rewind button or play a fatale round that might change their destinies eternally?
Let's play shall we?¿ ◖ ◖ ◖ ◖ It was a dark hollow night, raucous sonance reverberating through the bustling streets. The majority of the citizens were swarmed around malls or getting off from work during this time of the day. The traffic was intense, enough to cause migraines from all the honking. For others, it might have been an ordinary day in their lives, but for Wooyoung, he was stuck in a nightmare, on loop, unable to escape the echoing tunnels up ahead. He kept on running and running, no one to help, no one to call, he was all alone. He didn't have the time to catch his breath, it was a life and death situation. In this vast world, in this particular moment, he was being chased in a narrow eerie alleyway, not to his liking.
The lights were flickering and he had a burn at the pit of his stomach. If he slips, the lights go out, and it's game over. The mysterious figure behind him was tall, blurry, and wore a mask. He couldn't identify who it was, nor did he care because he was too exhausted, focusing only on the sound of his heart beat soaring its limit. Wooyoung was only 12. Struggling to hold his stance, he was swaying sideways and limping, not wearing any shoes. Wanting to cry, shout, stop, it was rendered useless. He didn't want any of this, being on his toes every second of his existence, feeling obliged to listen to grown ups, not being able to word his opinion, he didn't deserve it.
Wooyoung couldn't take it anymore. Feeling light headed, he tripped on his feet and scraped his knees. His eyes widened, holding in his breath, panic visible in his every move. Trembling, he looked back already knowing the outcome of his mistake. Get up...get up. No...p-please don't!! It's not my fault..i s-swear I didn't do it..no!
