Regret Me Not | 김석진

One

Some moments become more vivid with the passage of time. Yesterday's many encounters and separations existed for this moment. Every alley and crossroad I walked through were all meant to lead me to this very place. That kind of moment is what I mean.

Breathe in.

He opened his eyes.

Breathe out.

The alarm deafened him.

Breathe in.

The morning sun wouldn't go away.

It was like any other dawn. The sunlight had barely risen over the horizon as he dragged himself from the lush bedspread. The comforter had curled around his torso through his night of restless sleep which, if he had not unwound himself from, would have made the long and treacherous walk to the restroom even worse. A red pillow with gold tresses—the one with his family's insignia twisted over the scarlet velvet—was thrown where hardwood and tile met. With a huff, he passed it and prepared himself for the day ahead.

When he sank down the stairwell, the metal far too cold for bare feet, he traced the creole designs he had chosen himself while remodeling recently. His fingers leafed over the Fleur De Lis, the sharp tip smoothened from his mornings of fawning over the intricate design. Just how a human could create art was something he could never understand as his only talent was cooking. And he wasn't even at the rank of a chef, but his friends always raves whenever he did decide to step into the frying pan. The thing was, he couldn't bring himself to cook anything—It just wasn't the same. That passion couldn't be ignited. Not like it used to.

A deep sigh left him as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was still young, skin glowing in the dappled sunlight. Where the curtains had been opened the day before, they were nicely pulled yet it did nothing to help the white which seeped through. It was awful, his youth was only a faint memory, yet it felt like only yesterday he had learned to drive his first car. He just wasn't a kid anymore. At least, that's what people told him.

His eyelids drooped heavily, somehow possessed by the few drinks he'd had the night before. His hands ached from the burn they'd received from gripping his steering wheel so tight while getting his boys out of trouble and for some reason his eye was twitching. His clothes from the night before lay hung over his lounge chair, still stained with the scent of blood, beer, and cigarette smoke. He would have to wash them soon; they smelled of adolescent mistakes, yet a blossom of pride remained in his chest.

He smirked.

"Still got it."

He gave a quick wink to himself and then he was off.

The biting morning air froze him to his bones through the suit he insisted on wearing. It was a Monday, the perfect day to dress the part of the middle school teacher everyone thought him to be. He was a world-class charmer. Just flashing a smile at the secretaries was enough to get him as much ass as he pleased. But he chose not to ponder such vulgarity, having only been a novice in those activities. He had better things to do with his time. It was a precious thing to him, being so easy to waste. However, this influx of attractive attributes, from his full lips to the straight nose most dreamed of, meant he could get his way with anyone.

Well...except her.

"Good morning, Seokjin!" Dahae called from her desk as he walked in. She was a kind girl, younger than the other teachers yet had no intentions of having a relationship with anyone besides Jin himself. A little on the heavy side, she would have looked nice standing in a curvy dress at one of his family's gala's but Jin had yet to invite someone from his workplace to such a gathering.