The Reason's

Part 3

AMBIGUITY of various colors that touch the life of a Jeon Jungkook, it can be said trinkets. Trinkets will be weird. Too saru blends all shades to be artistic. Too faint to take the beautiful part.

I forgot, I'm Jeon Jungkook. The greedy critical judo of disguised reality, the scribe of the world's issues that are at the tip of the horn.

The effective escape from the live loop lies when the camera is facing the truth. The facts behind the lies of diction created by human hands. That's why journalism is another avenue of advanced judo medallions that just develop my muscles and give birth to millions of pairs of wry eyes.

Then, it becomes another reason why I like all Taehyung capture portraits with a simple pocket camera.

Honest and warm. Two words were able to describe the meaning of the shots of Taehyung, my friend since twelve years ago who I was amazed. I've long since estimated the vignette of nature from the lens point of view, falling in love with me. The outpouring of sincerity that Taehyung emanated through photography works, impossible to be matched by anyone.

Until I found his picture sandwiched between Taehyung's other honesty.

Right now Taehyung is sipping a cup of timid latte. Coffee is not a good friend to him. However, that stubborn tongue insisted on trying. Not to lose to the younger two years of him, Taehyung is very competitive with me to impress more mature. Though the desire to compete this just as if labeling himself still naive and innocent.

Taehyung's camera is idle and it's my habit to kidnap him on a whim. Striking various photographs in his pocket camera film gave me an impression like enjoying an exhibition. Invites a variety of contemplation and is worth showering appreciative decak. Like one of the sandal-side portraits caught in the sand of the sea at dusk, small waves wet the sandals and as a result this is more than amazing. The focus is right on target and the angle is suitable, even the contrast of light worn really displays the warm impression of twilight to the sandals. There was also a panoramic form of the highway around the Han river that he took with me last month. Car light flashes really integrate aesthetic impression that makes the eyes tasty.

Hey, what I've been talking about since is always the topic of nature, the twilight and the condition of downtown. I thought Kim Taehyung was an admirer of the universe zone, but it didn't feel so. Was I mistaken for twelve years at his side?

The proof is a portrait of a white shirt girl and her gray folding skirt that integrated sunstroke, carrying a scorching antidote mint ice cream that feels real, suddenly inserted to add to the film. The cafe cooler should be quite sultry. But ever since I found this girl turning the throne of Taehyung's gallery, a thin sweat suddenly felt my temples.

When he mentioned this woman's matter to Taehyung, he was misbehaved. He gave a diplomatic reason. And what I wanted to uncover the most from their meeting was the girl's name. But it's a little strange that by clearly finding out, Taehyung might consider me a new rival and start asking, "why are you interested?"

The end of the shiny twinkle through Taehyung's hazel eyeballs, silently implied a fierce attraction. I can confirm it.

"I heard that girl hates men." Taehyung started a new dialogue after a few silent seconds on our side. It was because I was again busy with a pocket camera, observing more clearly the first woman to trigger Taehyung's gallery filled with human objects, finally.

"Who do you mean?"

"The girl you saw in the picture."

A little hint tested me. Maybe Taehyung saw the kernyit on my forehead straighten out. My mind is getting chaotic. The cafe waiter-friendly greeting, the hustle and bustle of customers on the left side, the young couple's discussion of blind jealousy on the right, the soft jazz music that dominates, all deserve to be muffled by water. Silent.

Hate men? This girl is not Yoon Sara. Not likely. I must have been the wrong guy.

I raised my head and looked at Taehyung straight. "Talk me to her."

🌻

EVERY week became my regular schedule to visit my father's grave in the Gwangjin area. Should, anyway. Sometimes I'm bengal. The empty clock of my schedule was used to visit my father, after a waste of time with Taehyung who basically just changed his mind about the news of the airline crash; the earthquake disaster in the other country; and the rest about photography. Take a look, where was the issue of intersecting seliweran or well, as beautiful as romance may be more personal? Like two common men throwing jokes related to the curves of the campus prima donna body or discussion that they have just expressed feelings for the woman A. Well, that's. We are far from that topic.

It's been a long time since Dad packed himself up and set off to a place we couldn't reach, sleeping too well until I doubted when he would wake up again. About ten years ago, my fate changed. Alone as the eldest son of Jeon, my duty is to take good care of my mother. Till now.

The cause of death of the father is the disease Meningitis tuberculosis suffered long enough. The chances of a cure are small, minimal. Almost nothing, maybe. Dad became pessimistic because of this news, and so did I at times.

My way is to calm my father's fragile heart, by telling him the good things I gave at school. I didn't tell dad that I hit classmates who hit me in the head recklessly. I didn't mention the nagging teacher who thought our fight started with me. I am also reluctant to tell you that my grades have fallen drastically due to many cases. I lied and it was very comfortable, especially when my lips created an unusually warm curve when I told the judo championship I won. I started pursuing judo since my father was sentenced to be very ill. My honesty lies in that part.

Arkian in a place unknown to father, I cried loudly without anyone hearing. Except for a plain boy named Kim Taehyung who became a viewer for the crybaby figure of Jeon Jungkook and suddenly invited me to play ball.

Returning from the tomb, I was blown away enjoying the gust of sangar from the summer breeze on the Jungnangcheon bridge. Many memories are still engraved on this bridge. One of them is about two small children occupying the bridge guardrail, then tasting ice cream together. Against the rules of adults, we are free children who are friendly to nature.

Nostalgia broke for a moment when a female figure with a familiar posture that seemed to repeat the scene of my past occupied the guardrail on the Eungbong bridge of the Jungnangcheon river basin. Both of his palms stretched backwards pushing against the surface of the fence. An empty view was thrown gently into the corners of a fairly swift river current. Occasionally the head leaned forward and a pair of eyebrows furrowed on his forehead as if guessing the height of the bridge to the bottom that could reach dozens of meters.

Sitting on the bridge fence, what is a hobby that is again trendy ? His face did not look happy or depressed. However, the next action was quite surprising. He closed his eyes and almost lifted his butt. Hey, dare to swear I'm a witness to her suicide teenage girl.

Afraid to go to him, slowly say hello. Can't surprise him, can it? It's pretty risky. "He, hey, Miss. Can you stop that? You better get down now."

The girl I was referring to turned around for a moment, looking at the face of the gaze of a young man who represented anxiety. The reply was limited to a mere eyebrow wrinkle. Damn, he looks like a podo. Even turning back his head continued the risky activity, ignoring my panic.

Spontaneous strong grip I imprisoned his arm, nodding the other hand I used to grab his waist. His intention was to carry the body of this nameless woman to stay away from the fence. I'm still freaking out, frankly. "Miss, you can't be like this. It's not like this is how you solve ma..."

He then went on a stubborn rampage. The rots are very strong. I'm losing. "What, anyway? Get off me, you fucker! I'm not taking the medicine!"

"You didn't manage to take the medicine, so you chose to jump off the bridge? Quit."

"Who should stop? Oi! Damn, I got goosebumps!"

We argued that as his rampage grew more and more intense, his legs alternately beating the air, his hands banging and painstakingly getting rid of my help. About a dozen seconds of mouthfight, all culminating in a strong kick of the girl on the fence to throw her own body into the river.

Woe, then the water roosts the atmosphere of summer. Still no one who passed by menggelubris our incident. I do not want after this Eungbong bridge has an additional criminal history as a place for the massacre of women by a young judo.

Finally another spontaneous action that I desperately took away from the tranquility of the humming of summer crows. Also ventured, that afternoon twice the water flow accompanied the flow of the Jungnangcheon river. His voice was like two huge loads that were sinking down the river.

My devotional ability is pretty good at saving someone. With arms around the neck of a woman of her age who had just sunk two seconds earlier, I pushed her body to the edge. He did not completely choke on the river water until it was difficult to breathe. His consciousness was still awake when we reached the mainland, but his power was completely depleted.

Why, anyway? Even this precarious condition, he continued to sharpen the fierce glances. Shit, he should be a little grateful.

Imagine a pair of drenched opposite sexes sitting face to face on a stretch of weeds. People must assume we're crazy.

At that time, the woman's lips lifted up to say something, but I was impatient. "What are you doing, huh? This river is pretty big! We would have almost died if we hadn't saved ourselves! You know, life is so important! You...!"

Hey, what's this sensation?

The word strands are paused, I'm under attack by duplication of overly abstract flavors deciphered.

Instead of sensation, what I came to through this kerling was very clear to see a rule belonging to the net to see something. Straight and firm. Full of cockiness, yet it feels bitter. What kind of lara has she ever kept?

A look like this was intimately scented in my mind. Deja vu.

"Why stop? Again, keep your babble. I put my ears wide, "the echo sounded sarcastic. He tilted his head at a glance, without the pupils turning to other entities. His intonation seemed to be muted by raging emotions. "Have finished? Let's have my turn to talk. Who do you think this is because, huh?"

"Nobody is going to commit suicide here! Please don't touch me without knowing anything! I don't have any disinfectants or tranquilizers! You're willing to accept the unilateral conclusion that I killed myself! What, the hell, you here?" His brows furrowed clearly as the clamor exclaimed. He scolded me, his lips open. The expressions of astonishment and annoyance were mixed. "Come on. We're drowning, all because of your stupidity! I'm leaving!"

After her index finger was pointed in anger, the woman I did not know her name was agile grabbed the bag and staggered. The drops of water still always fall alternately from the tips of wet hair and the sleeves of a simple shirt and also flow from the black cloves as the knees he wears.

While I was just glued to the spot. When his lips were angry, the net was round with horror when he was making a joke, why was everything so bad I connected with the habits of that man? Is this the result of a heightened pretension of not knowing yourself?

The existence of a rectangular object lay among the weeds, arousing my attention after a while. The mouse color wallet is one fold, the charge is filled with some wet won and lots of cards. Credit cards, health insurance cards, restaurant business cards and meal vouchers, a musician's business card, then a student card.

We share the same campus. Fine arts major. Her name...

Immediately got up and looked for his tracks once again.

🌻

A shower burst of water, instantly refreshed the tangle of my brain that worked. Common sense is like it's hard to dig out a bright spot. A brief encounter between me and Sara was like heading down an endless road. Last afternoon when longing to be inflamed and need to be remedied, Sara actually denied her memory. Perhaps the Yoon Sara I knew, had been time-altered and the enigma of pathetic neutrality.

Satisfied rubbing his face with a splash of water, I turned off the shower deliberately because it felt more fierce attack. Now the little towel I took to replace the water, soothe the moist red face. The hair is rubbed by the same tool. The goal is one thing, all dry and then I don't need to wear clothes in sticky conditions.

The smell of soap and shampoo rippled through the room after coming from the bathroom. My direction goes straight to the drawer of the table with a small towel still perched faithfully on the neck. In the box on the second floor of the drawer, I found a portrait of childhood. The most distinctive photo sheet, it has a special dock among other memory sheets that are worn out in the album prison.

Portraits of classic polaroid shapes depict a couple of unconscious boys being snapped by a camera shutter. The woman pinched her man's cheek. His facial expression was tough, dichotomized against the wry face of the boy whose double was glazed over and a little clear liquid came out from the eye patch.

This is Jeon Jungkook thirteen years ago with his soul mate, Yoon Sara. Grunts and faint smiles followed, I was washed away. "I used to be really whiny, huh?"

Very grateful to those who perpetuated this first, was Sara's mother. The most eccentric young mothers ever.

Either hiding this reality from Taehyung was a good decision or not. For sure since we were close, it was too problematic to add Sara to the conversation. Perhaps there was never any spare. Rarely does the topic of romance concern haphazardly to the important discussions of two teenage boys about dreams and days. Yoon Sara is also a personal, rather selfish theme suddenly telling me how I felt.

"Jungkook."

The soft call followed by a slow knock on the door of the room dragged me who was drawn away by the delusions of history, back to the present. Mom's out there waiting for a welcome. Before long, I reached the doorknob and opened it. The maternal middle-aged stature clung firmly to the figure that stood from the very beginning behind the door. His smile was soft and warmed the heart. "May I have a minute?"

I nodded my head while smiling exactly and slightly sliding from the doorway, presenting the way for mother to enter. One day, my mother's eyes glanced at the ancient polaroid that was still clamped by my finger. Maybe I think completely I've given up Sara's move, but it's wrong. I read through the eyes of a stunned mother, it seems I am quite an expert in the field of impromptu psychoanalysis. Didn't they?

"I accidentally discovered this again. So, nostalgia for a minute." Dissemble. I shook my shoulders after lifting the photo sheet. I finally understood Taehyung's feeling of being stared at by a browsing viewpoint. He must be misbehaving and looking for a reasonable reason. Same.

She laughed softly, usually. "Anyone can't deny the hue of your face, son. There's got to be some kangen, right?"

Enough, raise my hand. Surrender already. An innocent and pseudo-red smile was hard to endure. I bow my head, this dreaded habit of a judo when it comes to shame. Contradictions, huh.

Mom patted my upper arm twice, proud. "That's more fun than seeing a mother's child always pretending to be an adult."

"Oh, you came home soaked earlier, something happened?" added the mother who was suddenly stunned. He almost forgot the main purpose of knocking on my room.

I closed the door and let my mother sit on the edge of the bed. I especially took a study chair as the right place to live and face the mother. "Returning from my father's grave this afternoon, I saved the woman who drowned in the Jungnangcheon river."

Mom looked surprised. "really? What about you guys? All right?"

"Mom can see me now. We're doing just fine. The accident was also mostly my fault."

It seemed like mother was less satisfied by the long-winded answer. Eyewear of old eye seeds there is still shrouded full of questions, there are still those who want matchsticks. Thin tides of disappointment also dropped by her romance. "That woman...your lover? You guys quarreling?"

"Aish..." All those sizzles that were present menukas. "If I'm dating, how could you not know. But, it's a little different, Mom."

Limb dragging a wheelchair up to mom, I leaned my head enthusiastically. "Look, if you want to know who the girl I saved is, it's..."

PRANGS!

The sound of broken glass rattling slashed the diction. My heart worked for a few seconds, his irregular gusts were shocked. Mother was also already grinning, her shoulders were raised at a glance earlier.

Curious pushing my hand open the window blinds of the room. The scenery that I witnessed afterwards must be the condition of Kim's three hundred square meter type house. A magnificent house today that envies neighbors, including me.

The hasty steps out of the house I was referring to. The young man walked quickly after successfully slamming the high fence of his house, violent. Although the head was lined hood oversized gray jacket, it does not mean the posture makes pangling. Once I saw, my mouth was instantly good at pronouncing one name.

"Taehyung?"

Another man with an estimated age of forty years or less, robed in pajamas with a half-bald head, followed shortly after. He pulled the fence back and stopped there. Then, his anger exploded.

"Go, Taehyung! Ask your friend Jungkook for help! I am your father! Someday you'll realize you're just like me!"

Taehyung. Continue walking in a hurry as his hands clenched violently, firmly gripping the tip of the jacket until the trembling element stopped. No one knows what kind of look Taehyung is showing under his hood. It could be resentment, hatred, resentment, or nelangsa.

Never once did it harmonize the Kim family. There is just throwing a bell here and there, the bang of a hard object colonizes, and the escape of the child alone. However, this was the first time Taehyung's father howled soberly. The father I know is the only one Taehyung is most proud of.

"Taehyung had another fight with his parents?"

Question my mother ignored. I impulsively grabbed the phone and stomped on my friend's phone number. Simply discard the duration until the waiting tone reaches Taehyung's voice. The boy raised the call after a few seconds, without starting the word.

"You're running away from home again?" my question is worried.

"..."

Still quiet, at all his interest was disgusted about sahut-muruhut. "Where are you going?"

"..."

"I asked, where are you going?"

"...please leave me alone." He replied, finally. The tone of the weak baritone sounded raucous from across there. Taehyung's not okay for sure. Even stammered he said, "Dad.I hate you, Kook."

"Say it more clearly when your feelings are calm. Now please tell me where you are."

"Sorry, Kook. can't tell."

"Then, say something that can make sure you're okay, Tae."

He's quiet again. Through the phone network, caught in my rung the weight of his breath. Trudge. Her chest is tight, I guess.

"Let's take a walk to Myeongdong tomorrow" Taehyung said to me. A weak grin and a little bit of bitterness stuffed together.

He could have arranged the heavy sound for the better. It was as if his incision wound was able to recover faster without a trace. In a split second, my pal proved himself a witch. What spell he applied, was still a mystery. He must be crazy.

"You're crazy, Tae."

🌻

The To Be Continued.