[WATCH ME BURN DARLING ] mon coeur saigne pour toi.
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THEIR SHAMELESS GOSSIP ROARING THROUGH PURSED LIPS CAN BE HEARD IN THE DISTANCE. “is that seungcheol boy really running off with that yeji girl every night?” oh dear, how the scandalous whispers reached their ears and made slick, smug smiles appear upon their lips.
how stupid can they be, believing in their closed minds that kim yeji, a certified fucking nerd for all things art and poetry related, is also a certified bad influence on the neighbourhood friendly boy living in the blue corner house on 1005 street.
yes, choi seungcheol-the boy who had enough courage and patience to help the annoying ahjumma with her groceries one fine autumn day; the boy who had good grades, had dreams and colours streaming into his mind with every blink, inhaled the spring and exhaled the winter, smelled like cinnamon and burnt sugar and green apples. the boy who kept her sane enough to breathe in the ocean and taste the burn of the salt and the burn of his lips.
all they did was live while they were still young, funnily cliché enough. their ambitions were still high up in the night sky, too far for them to reach with their fingertips. expectations, marriage, ambition-they weren't acceptable for them. they didn't have anything to worry about. they were still too young.
TOO YOUNG TO MIND THINGS THAT FRIGHTENED THEM.
the things they did were all harmless- jumping over fences and riding down the slanted road with their skateboards and singing along to every song played in the radio store because why not. why not live life when you can, why not be free instead of withering away in a broken, empty home. the only thing that led people to conspiring ridiculous rumours about the two is that their minds couldn't handle the thought of two teenagers having fun and tasting youth.
and the only sad thing that led people to thinking yeji was a bad influence to the local neighbourhood good boy was because of yeji's family — her father used to be a part of a small tub of blood gang in his early twenties in a few neighbourhoods down the neighbourhood yeji now lives in, which was a very stupid name for a stupid gang that he stupidly regret ever joining in. they stole from their own families and knocked down government advertisements and posters when no one was looking.
kim jisung used to be a confused man, not knowing what was his true purpose and intention as he stood around rioting heads; hair coloured with the most absurd and brightest tint, face hidden with masks, protests spilling out of their mouths like a faucet. even if some part of him felt satisfaction through all the illegal bullshit he and his buddies did, he still felt lost. like he didn't know where to start nor to end. like he didn't know what was right nor what was wrong.
