Hell Hole

Chapter Thirty-Two.

The sirens had been blaring all around the city, and Jeongin had found himself stuck in a small cafe to distract himself. It was half-past Ten at night, the night eerily dark and gloomy.

The television in the corner of the room rolled off old tapes. Jeongin appeared paranoid. He perceived the sirens were for Chris, and He didn't know how to feel about that.

Should He have been fearful?

Jeongin was unsure. He hadn't done anything, so it shouldn't have mattered. He felt a tinge of melancholy though, whomever the ambulances were for, they surely didn't deserve anything detrimental to happen.

The door to the cafe swung open, a tall woman striding in. Soyeon, the said woman, caught eyes with Jeongin, her lips curling up, “Jeongin.” She whispered, striding forward, “How are you holding up? You look sick…”

Jeongin glanced into the reflection of his phone. She was correct, He was pale, and dark circles hung underneath his eyes. “I'm fine.” He waved her off, clutching his bag.

Soyeon sighed, catching a seat across from him, “Have you heard about the murder that happened on Ssi street?” She queried, “Taeyong Lee died. He was one of my favorite reporters.”

Jeongin swallowed, his Adams apple undulating, “I haven't heard that much about it,” He cleared his throat, shaking his head, “It isn't a concern of mine. I don't care much about murderers.”

“You write about them; you could at least take some inspiration from this,” The woman murmured, waving over a waitress. She ordered a cold brew, handing the girl the money. “I heard the daughter was deceived into thinking Taeyong would come back.” She sighed, “I think some detectives are questioning her as well. Such a shame that happened.”

The Television began to scream with an alert, everyone's eyes fluttering over to it. Jeongin gasped at the headline.

An alleged serial killer on the loose, according to Police Officers all around; A man said to be in his late twenties, with blond, curly hair. He has a mole above his right eyebrow, and a slit on his left eyebrow.

The reporter began talking, and Jeongin frankly couldn't apprehend it. He stood up with a shriek of his chair. Soyeon just looked up at him, “What's wrong?” She asked softly, “Are you sure you're fine?”

“Chris.” That was the only thing Jeongin could utter, bile building in his throat. He lurched over his lap, spewing the coffee he had drank out of his system and onto the floor.  He felt nauseated, ill, and insane. Soyeon rushed to his side and held him up, calling for the waitress. 

“Hey, Jeongin,” Soyeon tried, “Who's Chris?” She wrapped her arms around him, hauling him towards a family restroom. She closed the door behind them, helping him sit up on the counter. Jeongin was sniffling, so vulnerable, and Soyeon could only pat his back and wipe his mouth with a paper towel, “It's fine. It'll be just fine.”

Jeongin couldn't prevent himself from crying, the liquid pouring down his cheeks. He couldn't do anything else; He was crushed, entirely fragmented. He didn't grasp how to manage it even though He knew that it was Chris, “Fuck!” He shouted, feeling himself crumble into Soyeon's grasp, “I miss him, I miss Chris.” He bawled, grasping her blouse, “I want everything- I want everything to be okay again-”

Soyeon held him close to her chest as she would to her children, “Take a deep breath…” She murmured tenderly, “Tell me what happened, Jeongin, is He the one the reporters are talking about?” She felt Jeongin tremble, choking on his tears, “C'mon deep breaths…”

Jeongin fought to breathe, feeling as his throat began to close. His tears drenched Soyeon's shoulder, He gasped for air, waiting for his crying to cease; which, it didn't. “I love him- and-” He choked, his chest rising and falling rapidly, “Why can't I get a good ending? Am I not going to live?”