[EDITING]
When Jeon Jeongguk's sister gets engaged to his friend's brother, almost everything changes.
Desperate to hold onto a fragile friendship, Jeongguk is willing to get himself into sticky situations--even to the point of ruining his sister's...
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Chapter Thirty: Someone New
He had stayed with the Jungs for a week. It was odd, he almost felt like he had lived there his whole life but at the same time that he had arrived just yesterday. Time seemed to pass in a weird on this island. He wasn't sure if he was enjoying himself. He had taken it upon himself the first days to explore the place, which, he soon found out, was a photographer's paradise. It was so beautiful, that it was almost impossible to take good photographs of it, because he always felt the pictures were dull when compared to the real thing. The sea changed colour every day, it was a light teal on the beaches, a dark blue from the view from the house, white as it broke against the grey cliffs. The growth around the island attacked the town, vines growing down the sides of the houses, tall trees casting shadows onto the cobbled pavement, plants of all sizes and colour spilled out of pots and a darkened green covered the greying volcano. The sun was warm, and when it was too hot the water was there to cool the burning skin. The wind stirred the trees with gentle kisses.
The town captivated him too. The houses were old and charming, many made of reddish stone. The streets were narrow and washing lines were strung between the French windows up ahead. The town was filled with markets which sold everything from sweets to pipes, little local boutiques donned every corner as well as little cafés which brought a sweet aroma of pastries and coffee out to the streets.
Then there was the house itself. As well as the living room and kitchen on the ground floor, there was a dining area, which connected to the kitchen, from there, a sunroom, which led out into the garden. You could also go from the dining room down a hallway which led to a study, a bathroom, as well as the Jungs' bedroom and the guest room his mother was staying at. On the second floor were three bedrooms, a second bathroom and another study/sitting room. The best part of the house by far was the garden. The first thing you saw as you walked out of the sunroom was a a stone patio with a big table, almost as big as the one in the dining room, as well as a sofa area surrounding a round fireplace. From there, a path of stones weaved its way in between patches of green grass, tall trees, and bushes of flowers. Following the path, as it curved around a corner, turning into stairs going down a few steps, out of sight from the house, one walked upon a pool.
It was a long yet narrow pool, the rim of it a greyish stone. On one side was a walkway, on the other plants, the growth of leaves threatening to spill onto the water. The water was a gorgeous blue, almost green. On the other side of it was a white sofa as well as some sun loungers, a table next to them to place something like sunglasses, drinks, or a book.
Everything seemed to be perfect. But somehow it wasn't.
While this was a photographer's paradise, none of his photographs were any good. He felt as though all of them were missing some vital essence. That the emotion had gotten lost within the beauty of the houses, the sea, the trees, and the sun. The photographs didn't seem like fragments of a moment, like a memory or a thought frozen in place, but like a dull drawing of it. A warped reality, inauthentic. He hated nothing more than when his photographs looked inauthentic. Perhaps because it was the only time, he could be completely honest with himself.
