Summary:
He is like an angel who saves him from the depth of hell. He is Hansol’s beacon, the light in the darkened life he lives.
*****
Song #14
Artificial Flower ( 조화 ) - Eddy Kim
Behind the flashiness of an eternal flower petal
There’s a liar who has never bloomed nor withered
“Tonight sale is as good as always.” The trader laughs in satisfaction, his hands giddily recounting the bundles of cash, fingers repeatedly caress the surface of Won, Dollar, Yen and Euro bills almost fondly.
Glancing to his side, the tall lean man stands straighter moving away from his dark brown desk where he had been leaning on. He easily covers the distance between him and the pet in three strides with his long legs before placing his fingers on the boy's face, raising it until he can see the dark brown eyes tremble in their attempt to not meet his.
Smirking, his thumb moves to caress the chapped lips of the boy. Making a note to send the boy for some treatment before delivering him to his buyer as he enjoys watching shiver creeping up the boy's body, the man leans down a bit until he captures the boy's lips. “You will see your new Master tomorrow. Be on your best behavior.”
The boy nods obediently, his lips slip away from the man for a moment as he closes his eyes, relenting his fate that night to the man who has been teaching him until he blooms with perfect obedience.
It will bloom again tomorrow like it’s nothing
Pretending it’s not lonely, deceiving everyone
Waking up with his lower body a bit sore, the brunette haired boy blinks his eyes million times to get used to the bright light before he realizes that he isn't in his room anymore. He wakes up to a wide window with cremé colored curtain gathered at one side and also to the softness of pillow.
Sitting up, he stares down, looking at his naked body. His, no, he has nothing of himself anymore, this body has been sold to someone; the inner side of the thighs are stained with dried whiteness the trader spilled on him and never bother to clean. It has always been like that, he has gotten used to it. He will wake up naked and stained, alone on dirty sheet after every sessions of lesson from the man.
He has stopped complaining or thinking about it. Just accepting and moving on to do what he has to do. But that morning, he has to push himself to think. To notice the differences.
One, albeit still a bit dirty with the white stains, the skin has no mark whatsoever. It is clean with no bruise and there is no pain beside the bearable throbbing between the legs.
Two, he is obviously not inside his gray cell room where there is only small hard bed. Testing the little bounce of the bed with his palm, the boy takes his time to feel the smoothness of the sheet against the dry skin of the fingers before glancing around the room. The place looks expensive, the boy can't know for sure but obviously, this room is much better than the empty cold gray room he always stays in.
Before he can think about anything else, the door opens and the trader walks in. His dark maroon shirt makes the smirk on his face looks more dangerous and so does his black pants and his shiny black dress shoes. “Oh. You are awake.” His cheerful tone doesn't make the boy feel any better.
“Go take a shower and change into this.” The man tells him, raising the paper bags he is holding before dropping them on the bed. “I'll give you an hour to get ready.” Instead of leaving, the man takes a seat on the lounge sofa and raises his brow when the boy doesn't move from the bed.
