Silence // Kim Hongjoong [completed]

Lust

     I finished high school with good grades and moved onto college. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, as I have no passions, so I took classes that seemed interesting. One that I genuinely enjoyed was fashion. I liked to make things out of nothing. I liked to design something on paper and then make it into something tangible. I enjoyed sewing it together in silence and peace and watching it all fall into place.
     It seemed like the least human thing to do as it required patience. Most people would take breaks in between, too bored with the activity to continue the rest of the day. I, on the other hand, would sit there and finish my piece in one day. If I were to ever take a break, it was for necessities, such as needing to eat, use the bathroom, or sleep.
     I liked speaking to my needle and thread much more than humans. I spoke into existence pieces of clothing and entertained myself by telling stories to the fabrics.
"Blue eyes would bring out your flare." That's the kind of things I would speak to the clothes.

     No one wore them but me, and I would rarely wear them at all. I liked to see them on a mannequin, displayed like a piece of art. That was until I met a dancer.
     His name was Wooyoung. He was taking courses at the college as well for dance. What kind of dance, I did not know until he invited me to a dress rehearsal. It was contemporary.
     I was taken away by the way he moved. The control he had over his body, the way he flowed like a leaf in the wind, it was amazing.
     One thing I noticed was that their clothes were stiff. They hindered his movement and took away from the performance. So I began studying clothes and patterns similar to the outfit he had worn. I designed one like his and fixed the mistakes to allow it to flow with the body, rather than behind it.

     I had no intention of sharing my design with anyone, but that plan was failed when Wooyoung spotted it within my notebook while we were together one day. He liked it and asked me to see the whole thing, and so I showed him. He had me put it on for him and I demonstrated the differences between his cheap costume and my custom one.
     That's when my works became functional rather than for show. Wooyoung wanted a copy and so I made one for a humble price. He loved it so much he'd thrown away the costume he received for the production and wore my version on stage instead.
     From there, I built a clientele. The other dancers requested similar outfits and my prices rose with the business. Wooyoung and I celebrated his production and my new business from home. It wasn't a business to me, more of a hobby that brought in some pocket money.
     The night we celebrated was the night I met his close friend, San. I say close friend, but it was obvious to me that friends was not the arrangement they'd had. Yes, they were friends, but they were too close for comfort of most people.
     I may not be good with friendship, but I do know, from observing, what exactly a friendship is. I also know what is more than that. This was more than that but less than a serious relationship at the same time.

     I began to understand more in that night as I got a taste of their relationship. We went to their dorm, red faced and drunk, intending to watch a movie and pass out on the floor, when they got too close on the couch. I remember watching the two grind up against each other like animals in heat.
     This was a demonstration of pure instinct.
     I was intrigued. Yes, I had relations like this before with previous men, but I'd never seen one so open. I watched with intent before San asked if I wanted to join. I didn't see why not. It was interesting to me so I wanted to dip my toes into the water.
That's what I say, but instead of dipping my toes, I fell head first into the pool and almost drowned.

     It was an interesting dynamic. The two were practicing something I had never heard of before. They called it power play. No matter what, Wooyoung liked to have the power, but San liked to be both submissive and dominant. He called himself a switch. I didn't know what I'd like, so they let me watch them at first.
     I decided later that I'd liked being submissive. It gave me a break from being in control. Being dominant took too much work. Too much mental capacity that I didn't want to use for mere pleasure. I simply wanted to lay down and be praised and that's what Wooyoung and San did for me.

     Something that was more interesting than their sexual play to me, was a non sexual habit that San had after scenes. He would go from one headspace right into another, becoming mentally childlike. I'd never heard of something like that before and it was strange to see for the first time, but I became accustomed to it.
     Whether submissive or dominant, he would fall into the headspace and need a lot of care. For some reason, I had no quarrels about giving him this care. In fact, I actually liked taking care of San in this state. I suppose it made me feel important to have someone rely on me. Or perhaps it was fraternal instinct.
     I've no idea what it was, but I can never experience it again and I am sure of that.

     The three of us became close within a few months. To me, there was a useful exchange within the relationship. San and Wooyoung wanted love. I could provide that love, no matter how fake. I wanted sex and to have someone rely on me the way San did. It was symbiotic in my eyes.
     By the second year of college, we were living in the same dorm. My business was slowly declining, but I had enough money saved up, and so I didn't mind. It gave me time to make pieces of my own for myself.   
     Wooyoung, on the other hand, was training a lot more. Between his training and other classes, he had a part time job at the mall. He had at least ten hours off everyday, including his sleep schedule.
     This gave me and San more time to become close. He was working full-time at a floristry co-op and would come home with bouquets he'd arranged for Wooyoung and I. I found inspiration in the flowers he'd brought and began using them in my designs.

     San loved the designs and I'd even made him a jacket with his favourite flowers. It had handmade patches of pink and yellow alstroemeria, white jasmine, and red heather flowers lining the sleeves.
     He wore the jacket everywhere he went and rarely took it off.
     I wish he had taken it off.
     Then I'd have had something to hold onto. Then the jacket would have stayed clean. Then he could have at least been buried in it. But instead, he'd gone out in an ice storm after forgetting to lock up the flower shop he'd worked at.
     The very thing he loved was what got him killed.
     His car had reared off the road while trying to avoid another one.

     To me, Wooyoung's reaction to the news was irrational. I could not understand it. It reminded me of my mother. The anger, the sadness, the fear of loss. I did not react the same way, and his anger turned to me.
     I had never been so afraid of humans in my life than I had in that moment. I experienced pure rage and pure hatred directed towards me. I'd felt like prey to a hungry lion.

     He asked how I could react in such a way to someone so important to me being taken away.
     For the second time in my life, I was silent.
     I did not know why I could not react the same way. I did not understand why I lacked the ability to grieve.
     I was kicked out. I was denied access to his funeral. I was cut off from Wooyoung.

     And I moved on.