The Ghost of You | Seongjoong

~ II ~

Chapter Two
-The Beautiful Stranger-
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Hongjoong slouched at his makeshift desk, which was actually just his coffee table cluttered with music equipment and sheets of paper. He stared blankly at the lyrics he had been trying to write, but the words seemed to dance mockingly on the page, refusing to come together in a meaningful way. He felt frustrated and defeated, his mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions that he couldn't seem to express.

Everything he seemed to be writing were just empty words, meaningless noise that held no emotion behind it. He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The pressure to create something meaningful weighed heavily on him, but no matter how hard he tried, the music just wouldn't come.

He closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind and focus.

With a sigh, Hongjoong opened his eyes and picked up his guitar, strumming a few chords aimlessly. The sound was hollow, lacking the depth and emotion he longed to convey. He knew he needed to find inspiration, to break free from this creative block that had been plaguing him for days.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring he had bought at the market, turning it over in his hand. The ring seemed to shimmer in the dim light of his apartment, and Hongjoong felt a surge of hope.

Hongjoong slid the ring onto his finger, and as he did, the memory of the silver-haired stranger from the market flooded his mind. He remembered the way their hands had brushed, the strange connection he had felt in that moment.

His beautiful chocolate eyes, so warm and inviting, filled with a depth that Hongjoong couldn't quite comprehend. And his peachy soft lips, slightly parted in surprise, were a stark contrast to the silver strands of hair that framed his face. Hongjoong couldn't help but wonder what secrets lie behind those eyes, what stories those lips could tell.

Lost in his thoughts, Hongjoong began to strum his guitar, the music weaving a tapestry of emotions and memories. He sang of chance encounters and missed connections, of longing and desire. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, echoing off the walls of his small apartment.

As the last notes faded away, Hongjoong felt a sense of peace settle over him. The ring on his finger seemed to pulse with energy, as if it were a part of him now.

Hongjoong smiled, content with his creation, as he gently set his guitar down and reached for a pen and paper. The melody he had just played still lingered in the air, and he was determined to capture it before it slipped away.

With a sense of purpose, Hongjoong began to write down the lyrics, the words flowing from his pen as if guided by an unseen hand. He wrote of love and longing, of hope and destiny, each line a reflection of the emotions swirling inside him.

When he had finished, Hongjoong sat back, the sheet of paper filled with his handwriting resting in front of him. He read over the lyrics, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction. This song was more than just music—it was a piece of his soul, laid bare for the world to see.

And one day, the world would see it. But for now, it was just for him to express himself without anyone judging him.

Hongjoong's momentary contentment dissolved into a tense knot of apprehension as his phone rang, the aggressive vibration against the coffee table breaking the peaceful silence of his small apartment. He glanced across the cluttered table, seeing the caller ID flash his father's name in stark, bold letters. His heart sank.

For a moment, he sat frozen, his hand hovering over the phone, debating whether to answer. The strained relationship with his father was a constant source of stress and disappointment. Hongjoong knew this call would likely be another attempt to pull him back into the life his father envisioned—a stable career, a settled life far from the uncertainties of pursuing music.