L'ange De La Mort

I Wanna Reset

"Stories...are where memories go when they're forgotten."

The best mint tea Yoo Seonho ever tasted was in Belgium. It was in a little café nearby the hotel he stayed in, and it reminds him of the 1920s era off of the vibe it had. His father often bring the whole family for a trip there every year, and they'd always come back to the same café. All for the sweet, sweet tea and the bitter aftertaste—for the relaxing aroma and of course, the people and their culture. Of course, that was only the mind of a nine year old because now, Seonho knows very well that Belgium was for business purposes.

Even so, his father never prevented him from going back to the same café. There was never a reason to do so. But at twenty years young in the mid-summer of 2021, that same café he's loved for so long is no longer there. The shop lot was occupied by another, and the banner that wrote Le café de Monica was gone along with the beautiful roses that surrounded the place. It's been replaced with a hipster café that probably sells things with almond milk and didn't give off that authentic vibe and coziness.

The menu outside has changed too, and though there was also mint tea, Seonho knows it will be different. He does not knows what particularly he likes about the old café until he's become so attached. Because it doesn't make sense that his heart sunk so deep that he's sure his stomach is a bottomless pit. It was just tea, sure, but the tea represents his youth and the last moments he had with his beloved mother. Seonho often visits her, but it is not quite the same as how they used to be.

Seonho doesn't mind living with his father since they do have a bond, however a son and mother can't truly separate. It's awkward now because the law stands between them, and the fact that his parents don't speak at all anymore only added more salt to the wound. And perhaps because of that, is why Yoo Seonho stood still in front of the café that was no longer nostalgic, crying. He did not even bother feeling self-conscious that people might be watching, because he knows well that the most powerful thing humans can do is ignoring. And he was right, because the passers-by only passed by without even a mere glance.

"Are you alright,Monsieur?" A deep voice asked in French from behind him, a soft and gentle hand on his shoulder to attract his attention.

Yoo Seonho was quite fluent in French since he has been practicing it for years, so he understood what the taller man said. "Yes, I am. Or, I will be." When he turns around to face the man after wiping his tears away on the back of his long-sleeved shirt, Seonho was quite stunned by the latter's visuals. The man was dressed in all black—from his turtleneck, his coat, his slacks and his strange top hat-which enhanced his pale skin and cherry red lips. His eyes were filled with an unknown concern but at the same time expressionless. Despite that, it was no joke that the man standing in front of Seonho now is out of this world with his double eyelids and soft yet strong features.

Seonho understands now why the world isn't perfect. Because all the perfection in this world seemed to go to this man.

"But you still have tears in your eyes." The man points out, which embarrassed Seonho a little.

"I guess I'm just going crazy then." Seonho says in Korean mindlessly.

"Oh, you're Korean." The man responds back in the same language and gives a gummy smile, dimples on display. Hearing the words made Seonho's eyes go wide as the blush in his cheeks deepened, too embarrassed now.

"Y-you're Korean as well? I thought you might be Chinese!" He exclaims in surprise.

The man's eyes squinted a little, and brought his thumb and index finger close together, "You're this close. But I'm Taiwanese. I just happen to speak a little Korean."