What if...? || Markhyuck

-9-

[july 2019]

[donghyuck]

I was slowly calling the pictures up folder by folder, looking for any anchor point. At this critical place, even the specifically set-up bench seemed to be a hint. Of course, this can be described as a slight fall to the extreme but after a few all-nighters it was just how it looked like. I put my heart into this activity because I also hoped that it would partly take care of all my thoughts that I wanted to get rid of.

I wondered why on this planet walk people who think that sex without obligations is a completely normal phenomenon. It's quite a sick thing. For example, you come to the club and fuck a stranger to do the same in a week's time with another nameless person. While I was still able to acknowledge this situation, I couldn't understand a similar relationship between friends at all. You see this person quite often, you know your secrets, you share an emotional bond. I wouldn't be able to risk it for ordinary sex. This is probably how the moral fall looks like.

I shook head. 

Unfortunately, my thoughts once again escaped to Minhyung, which, horrifyingly, often happened to them this week. The boy just possessed my mind and I didn't like it very much. I wanted to hate him with all my heart but I couldn't and didn't want to confess to myself why this was happening. Somewhere, subconsciously, shame grew in my mind for the conclusions I drew from this relationship. I felt that my human value system was degrading, gradually turning into an instinct attributed to animals.

I came back to earth because I came across a few photos that had the potential to illustrate something interesting. Dingy buildings and suspicious people - that's what we should look for. Places where even a dog wouldn't pee because he would feel disgusted. The city of prostitution, where it is no longer possible to sink even lower and hedonism functions as the highest value with a faithful group of followers. In addition, I knew the place that these pictures depicted, which seemed the worst in all of this. Around my nightmares. I didn't recollect it in bright colors and I certainly wouldn't want to spend any holidays there.

Atlantic City.

The work of our photographers wasn't complicated at all, if someone just liked outside work. They received an address by text where they were supposed to go and took pictures of everything around them for a week. Because of Marco's obsession with information secrecy, the poor didn't even know what they were looking for. Maybe many of them saved their life because they never focused on anything specific. They provided us with the greatest work with this kind of thing because it was up to us to review each photo with the face of the person we were looking for. Most of these photos have never been of any use. Most often they showed a person F, whose connection with even C was negligible, which made reaching B person almost impossible, moving away A from the next months of work. The chain of dependencies went on endlessly constantly expanding its connections.

Steven stared intently at his monitor, not saying much since the beginning of the day. Each of us wanted to do everything that was to be done quickly because at the end there was an award, which was a warm shower and sleep in our own bed. Currently, our working hours fit into the caricature image of Japanese companies with a twenty-two-twenty-four system with one pee break. Nobody visited us either. People scattered somewhere around the area, expanding the spider's web, which every move reached Marco. He was in the center here, waiting for this one stronger signal thanks to which he would move to prey. That's why dead silence reigned in the corridors. Nothing happened. Apart from one phone call an hour ago, which I made to give the address to Vernon, all this day was one big stagnation.