MVV | YG [✔]

07. Beomgyu

Silence was something you felt, not heard—like the soft wings of a bird or the seconds before you started to cry. It was a ghostly nothingness that engulfed the air and melted against your skin.

It was a sound that scarred...

... a sound that killed.

I think it's what Felix felt before he died, and I think, maybe, it's what I was feeling.

The brick walls I stood between swelled with unspoken words and well-kept secrets. It made the familiar hallway feel bigger somehow. The surface was rough as I ran my palm along it, placing one foot in front of the other. My shoes made not a single squeak—my breath not a puff.

The sconces that flanked me were unlit, which only made the quiet seem thicker—warm and over-saturated as it spread across my skin. I relied on my memory to guide me through the curved walls, as though the silence and I were playing a well-practiced game of hide and seek.

Hiding was sort of my expertise... though it wasn't all that difficult to conceal yourself in a world that had forgotten you were part of it. When no one remembered to search for me, the second part of the game became simple.

Somewhere beneath the veil of all this quiet were the answers that I sought. I was counting on their discovery to be effortless, but even if they weren't, we had a plan for that.

The military made my daddy bird somewhat of an expert in contingency plans.

The door to the basement made the faintest click when I tugged on the iron handle. Opening it just enough to slip through, I found myself hovering at the top of the steel staircase. Darkness surrounded me the second the door fell closed behind me. Arms above my head, my fingers grappled with the cool air, searching for a thin string. Once I found it, I wrapped my palm around it and gave it a rough tug.

Light flickered, brightening for the shortest of seconds only to dim again. It cast a rust-colored glow, descending the center of the steps as though it were a beacon of caution. Eyes closed, I took a steadying breath and followed that lonely ray of light.

With every increasing step, the chill in the air became more pronounced, billowing down the sides of my neck in waves that felt like needles poking me over and over again. My knuckles popped when I curled them into my palms, bottom lip quivering. My breath was a precarious cloud, escaping my mouth every few seconds and disappearing only inches in front of my face.

When the sole of my shoe touched down on the cement floor, it felt like I'd run a race of some sort, bursting through the ribbon at the finish line only to realize there was so much more to go.

Fingers dancing across the walls, I explored the damp surface for the hard, metal box that housed a lonely light switch. With a flick of my pointer finger, the ceiling illuminated over my head, the tubes of light buzzing softly as I studied the place Felix had made his own.

Cheongdam wasn't known for extracurriculars, or their support of any activity that made someone stand out as an individual. Creativity was a concept that frightened my father, as if he knew it was the most visionary people who could build a life out of what they wished existed.

Felix was like that.

His imagination led him into places I only dared to dream of, and his curiosity for all the things he hadn't seen left him dangerous.

He'd told me once that photos were simply return tickets back to a moment that would otherwise be lost—a time machine of sorts. Proof in the palm of his hand.

A month into his four-year stay, he approached the board for permission to use an empty classroom as a darkroom for developing the photos he took. They'd denied him, just like we assumed they would, though the prediction of the outcome didn't make his disappointment any less potent. His annoyance only acted as fuel, his determination the gas pedal as he scoured this oversized school and found this dingy, unused basement.