Paris in the Rain [Jaeyong]

Intro : Their Story

I knew a story once.

It was of my neighbors—

I've lived in this clean condominium since high school and started living alone, my parents allowing such a big request for my own home. It happened during one summer day.

I was at my room, reading A Midsummer Night's Dream for our school play for the upcoming opening ceremony of a new school year. It was a way to show the new students and the old students a great intro before a stressful year starts. The condominium next to mine was empty—for my whole stay in this place but today seemed to be changing, hearing boxes moving around and laughing voices echoing across hallways.

After fixing their home, I heard the two voices that just fit so well together. They called themselves such endearments that could melt my heart and I was happy to hear such a love story within their voices alone. I knew how much they loved and cherished each other so much. It was evident with their smiles in their voices and the laughs sweetly disturbing my afternoon reading.

My favorite of it was when they were off at work and I was at school, I knew that the woman went home first at exactly 3 p.m. and I followed by 5 or 6 when I had practice. And then the man would come home at exactly 6:30 and I heard the faint greeting every time I dropped my bag onto the floor and changed my clothes.

It was my usual routine and it was theirs too.

After the sweet kisses and hugs by the front door, I'd hear the small radio play some romantic music. The best part of it was when it was raining, I could imagine them dancing away the cold, wrapped up in each others arms, as if they lived in their own world. Though whether it be rain or shine, they'd welcome each other in their arms and cherish the warmth.

It was so beautiful. And I listened to the rain, with the music, with their voices as I sat by my bed and read on and on of my stories.

But no matter how beautiful this story was, it crumbled.

After a whole year of staying beside their lovely home, a night came and I went home early from practice and I could hear the woman answering a call from her phone. She was upset that her husband couldn't come home on time and she sadly ate her dinner alone, hearing the TV play from the walls.

It went on like this for several months.

Either the man would come home late or be early and would be on their own ways. It made the smile on my face fade not hearing the music, not hearing the smiles, not hearing the endearments anymore. I was afraid that their love story would end so soon.

Then a big mistake happened. I remember walking out and buying by the store and came home to see the man—so handsome and tall, wrapping his arms around a woman I didn't know.

Ignoring the shock of my discovery, I locked myself in my own room and later that night, I could hear two women screaming at each other. I could hear the pain from the woman's voice, the grief, the betrayal and from the front door opening, I knew the other woman left and allowed the broken couple to talk alone.

My heart broke at this, hearing them fight and felt as if love was not even there in the first place.

And so it continued, the man either went home late, drunk and the woman would scold him and they would scream at each other or it would be the man going home early when he knew that his wife would work overtime and I would hear nothing from their room afterwards. Their room that used to be filled with smiles and giggles.

And then it came to a time where the man barely even went home at all and I could hear the woman crying in her own arms in her room.

A whole month right after, I could hear the door slam shut and a sob from the poor woman's throat. At this point, I've shut my book and listened to her cry. I didn't think reading with a sobbing woman would make me understand what I was reading.

I could hear her cry on her bed, calling someone and hearing the soft voice of her sister on speaker, I knew it was something she couldn't take anymore. She cried and cried how she was so scared and neither me nor her sister knew what was going on. With the tremble in her voice, I knew it was of the man she called her husband.

And then she hiccuped again and again, telling her sister of her colon cancer. She was on stage 3 and she didn't even know this whole time. I remembered not sleeping that night and decided that for once after listening to their love story, I went out onto my balcony and took a deep breath.

This was painful and I've loved hearing the happy moments of their story but it hurt me to know that no matter how perfect it seemed, there was always a sad end to everything.

A few weeks later, I didn't hear anything from the walls and it worried me to no end. Later on, I could hear the man call for his wife, searching all the rooms and then hear his phone ringing, hearing his broken voice ask what happened, where she was, and I could barely hear the grieved voice saying a quiet sorry towards him.

He left a few days later, leaving the condominium barren and empty. I knew this whole time that his love didn't fade for her at all. But I never knew the reason why he seemed to not show it to her until her last breath and turned to another woman instead. But the quiet space of the home would still be filled of the memories that would remain in my memory.

A few days after he left, his face flashed onto the news channel. 'A young 28 male named Kim Sowoon committed suicide on the 8th floor of the Jiseul Heights and the police are currently trying to find the cause of his death....'

I've witnessed a love story form in it's ecstatic perfection and witnessed it crumble until it couldn't be fixed.

It was a beautiful and sad story
—and it's hurting me that there are still unanswered questions to their tragic story.

[N/A]
I've been gone too long lol, no one probably remembers me but how was the intro?
Was it good?
I have a lot planned for this story so you guys are in for a ride.

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