The Reason's

Part 5's

GODDAMN FUCK.

A bad nuance hurts someone's prospects. It felt like the blade of the sword passed through sembilu. Ragaku never moved, revolting arranged. It's enough to drain myself like a mannequin, the clothes seller won't even want to glance at me who was hit by a grim sweat. Perhaps not as neat as the statue of me set the sentiment of taste.

Among the quietest seconds, my hands clenched violently transmitting the moisture of my palms to the side of the jacket I had saved.

The man was not too old, the range reached the head of his four years, launched a sexual assault against a stranger whom I did not know on the living room couch. Not elite.

Her hair is a little shaky. The reddish clear skin is slightly westernized. European blood flowed in his veins as well as in mine. Faces don't look like fathers, but our DNA is one thing. I mean, he's the guy I've been calling dad for twenty-two years.

The air of the room is enveloped in the smell of yeast mixed with a slight sweet aroma of raspberry. Kim's house is like a nightclub where prostitutes drown. Sesal mourned my decision to return home at seven o'clock. Though I could waste more time on the Eungbong bridge while capturing the cool moments of the river ripples and the dim reflection of the moon that clutches each other.

Common sense as if unable to reach consciousness, my head was dizzy. This view is so irrational. My chest feels tight. "Uhuk! Uhuk!"

Repetitively, rejang cough interrupts the actions of nista in the axis of space. Their attention was taken. Both of them immediately responded to my presence in the fog.

Coughing inflamed so badly that my chest was completely at the peak of the pain, limp squeaked my shoulders and threw my own waist down the table. I just realized on a table lined with four-five bottles of red wine and two glasses of mixed gin and tonic. Shit, my house is not a bar. Our momentum caused the cocktail shocks to spill. Several bottles of wine lost their balance and broke into the floor. Small flakes hurt the instep, but whichever cares.

As another man's romance on the couch put his pajamas back on, my father approached me timidly. "Taehyung, are you okay? Your cough is bad."

I stared at daddy sharp. "Don't approach me."

Even the father grinned, covered with difficulty by frowning the formality of acting worried. He's influenced by liquor. "Hey, relax. Your mother hasn't come home yet. Drink a lot, I don't want you..."

"Stop calling yourself dad!"

Kernit forehead of this old man increasingly firm, his two thick eyebrows are only one inch apart. Replace the big question mark. I don't know when that grin will hold.

"You're not my father" I snide. Thin rings, I don't think. Still this straight look in my eyes at him, torn with anger. "I've never had a same-sex father!"

BUGS!

A great throb of brazing on the cheekbones, I closed my eyes enjoying the intertwined taste. That fist made my cheek feel swollen next to it. The fists that were now inching squeezed the front of the hoodie I was wearing. Our emotions are breaking, like a two-vehicle accident from the opposite direction. The damage is terrible, ironic.

Thin grunts that replace the laughter, nyeleneh. Without making friends with boredom, the angle of the net aiming is often fixed on the man in front of me. As ogah once again coughed shrinking the cool side of Kim Taehyung, I took a deep breath holding on. As if many pebbles were entangled in the throat crevice, this heavy voice was increasingly raucous.

"Don't ever consider yourself a father again, I'm sick of it." Down an octave of intonation this baritone loses strength. Throwing at Sangar's father, I moved. I'm gonna take a stranger on the couch. The youth of thirty years or older, seemed to be immigrants, looking at me anxiously from a distance. You dickhead.

"Taehyung." I called, sebodo. Maybe he was furious, once again my name was blown much louder. Right I'm holding a bottle of red wine to the door I just slammed. The man was in disobedience, could have been drunk.

I take a step towards the gate. Hurry up and burn with wrath. The finished house gate can be treated similarly while the main door is the target of hatred.

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

The old man screamed in front of the fence. Raging with a red face, transformed into a demon that I barely met since Kim's house has the most terrible meaning of a cage. There is no demon as scary as a woman who claims to be a mother, confines her own child, for years closes her child's eyes to freedom. Now they are both demons. They're just the same.

I promise I won't take Dad's vows. The sweat has built a base in the forefinger's face that is still firmly gripping the side of the hoodie. Decorated with a cough that is increasingly severe, the legs drove to a clear shower around a residential park, washing clean the backs of the feet and dirty hands. Yes, it's dirty. It seemed that the blood that was starting to oxidize eleven-twelve was like a bird droppings scar.

Before that, Jungkook called. Sorry, Kook, maybe sometimes time diaries provide a special page about me. Without anyone snooping in.

My body's tired, keep coughing. It's exhausting. Right, exhausting. Different as fitting Jungkook whose arm muscles look masculine, limited to me the student is an admirer of the camera. My energy is only for the camera.

For now, where else is the place of the contest I am most worthy of believing in? Without the presence of the devil.

For a moment of relief, leaning against the roadside wall around the district was really comfortable. My bead holds a meeting. There are three daydreams haunting me like a good dream.

Songs of sunflowers in summer, snacks in Myeongdong, and the annoyed face of Yoon Sara.

🌻

Legs enter the modus operandi without intention, limb. The night sky patron was somewhat gloomy. The little squirrels that sometimes string together constellations look moody. Perhaps sympathy for my goal-blind pace.

If it had been raining tonight, he might have been empathetic.

The world is adept at seducing its inhabitants to be more realm. In the span of twenty-four hours in between millions of residents of Seoul, presented by him a figure of a good devotion.

Selira is a cotton dresser and wears a thin, long-sleeved outer cardigan-coated t-shirt, lacing two plastic bags of ashtray will subsidize the kitchen from the smiling young cashier. This retail store should be crowded with customers seen almost equivalent cashier habits in supermarkets. After the cashier bowed kindly, the girl headed for the exit.

Yoon Sara, even from the right side I know you well. Not knowing the intertwined instincts, but somehow my soul seemed to be merely being led towards him. He who rolls the jet black mane like a camel hump leaves a handful of residual hair dangling in front of the ears, too capable to be immortalized.

Analog cameras that live in jacket pockets begin to breathe the night air. Portrait of a distressed girl with a successful full-blown grocer adds to the film gallery.

"You following me?" He asked miserably. His facial water is grim. Maybe he's scared or agitated. Where there is a woman who sebodo suddenly haunted by a blatant camera snap.

It was not I who followed Yoon Sarah, but the universe marched on destiny for us to meet. That simple. Without allusions or analogies, this name is still destiny. He is God's loveliest dispatch to the dilemma of a torn soul.

"It looks like it's heavy." I reached out to help the burden of causing the face to fall apart and he dodged agility. The epidermis skin of a Yoon Sara is capable of detecting human reactions. I undo the action and smile thinly. "I forgot you weren't that easy."

How, so that he stays and accompanies a lonely night. Just this time my mind feels overwhelmed with the deepest fear. To want to be selfish.

Can't we share that glaring net of light together?

"Don't you eat ice cream with me tonight?" Unknowingly, my finger-pinches swarmed Yoon Sara's cardigan arm. Too tired when the figure of lipur away. What the hell am I? Exactly the abandoned SD boy. "Anything, after that I'll repay you for this."

Begging, why does it have to be this way? Though just earlier I was the one who urged the time to prepare a blank page for me. Now I need a match.

Out of the retail store Sara had two ice cream bars, mint and raspberry flavors. Fragrant raspberries kind of provoke trauma, so I chose mint. And at the same time, I noted a new thing that Yoon Sara is a mint lover. Evidently from the pseudo moody expression when the bluish green ice cream switched masters, as if not accept but finally resigned as well.

Sitting next to each other and tasting ice cream, we were on the outskirts of a retail store like street kids. About half a meter away, Yoon Sara was willing to fight phobias according to rumors to accompany this boy playing snowball. Assume at will that the boy was me and the snow was all Kim Taehyung's selfishness.

I looked long for the night sky. Maybe the dilemma is the same, until the dim starlight that should be studded with vibrant.

"Do you like the night sky?"

Suddenly he asked. It just so happens to raise the topic of wanting to dominate, away from the temperamental issue yet so sentimental. "That's how it feels like to see freedom. Doing anything can be a matter of peace, no confinement or conflict. Oh, I mean, because the sun doesn't exist at night."

I'm quibbling. It's just been carried away by the current. The shadowy shadow of the Kim family messes with the romance of the air spectrum.

"My dad said," said Sara, tracking my gaze two seconds ago. When I found his face looking up at the sky, there the colored flashing reflected. The recently lost Netra felt lifeless at one time. "The sun is too good, when what he sings does not know thank you and swear the heat. But you can see, tonight we can talk outside and through, all because of the influence of the light that he shared with the celestial bodies, the stars and the moon."

Honestly speaking, it could be said to be rare to see Yoon Sara babble this much. Those lip commutes almost triggered the opium. How could the matter of the sun so sound interesting to discuss, he's magical.

"You close to dad?"

Sara nodded. "Everything is the same. I have a father who is crazy fishing in Busan Lake, usually when he comes home he will raise my name and boast of his many catches are also big. Sometimes we laugh with the mouth of a fish that is still gasping.

Then, my mom was the mother of eccentric pachinko and game center fans. Sometimes I hate it, but not really. He only seeks the pleasure of mothers in general, only the context is different. She was still my mother. The advantage also affects my sister who just started Junior High, has a young mother like a friend."

"Looks fun. I want to see them once in a while."

Sara turned her head quickly, her brows furrowed and her pointy bead swelled up in incongruity. Perhaps he harbored another speculation on the sentence I was saying. "Don't try."

I finally laughed amid her astonishment.

Normal, decent, and just as it is. Having a dream family and a regular lifestyle. "I'm just confused. What exactly makes you a male phobia?"

Actually what makes the netra radiate bitterly inflamed?

"..."

Sara immediately locked the language. A bite of the last ice cream particle, he smelled it. Throw the ice cream packaging and the stalk into the trash on the left side. He replied, "Don't know."

"Kim Taehyung, is there somewhere around Seoul you want to go?" Know my name is called. Sara's undisputed hobby, asked suddenly. I don't understand the origin of his mind.

A weak smile washed away the look. Good daydreams lately that colonize the niche of the mind to be urgent as an answer. "Later I used to imagine a lot of snacks in Myeongdong. Looks like I'll be there soon."

"My first how? Tomorrow, Sunday." I thought I was just fantasizing. Or the aroma of raspberries mixed with gin and tonic creates euphoria. However, Sara's serious look seemed to slap me hard. Scratch his neck, after that. "Just take an apology and then. I feel a bit guilty.But oh, what am I talking about? Myeongdong is obviously a crowded place, I may find it difficult to face..."

"No problem," I chuckled quickly. Don't let him change his mind, please. "I happen to have a friend with me too, we can go together."

"Friends?"

After some hesitation, Sara agreed. Convinced it was hard. Of course because we are the opposite sex. Friends too. But, I held tightly to this strand of phrase that we would guard it. I saw a wall that stretched wide, I could scatter a little for Sara. I just want to get closer, find a solution to the curiosity that hunts. Because Sara the first virgin who is very comfortable to be colonized and talked to.

The night is getting late. As an early record for arranging dialogue with the longest women, this is worth appreciating.

Scroll the watch and can't wait Sara's long in the retail store area. "You better get home, it's late. No one's home looking for you?"

"Oh, right too. He could starve to death." Realizing the abandoned groceries, Sara was shocked beyond measure. I don't know who exactly 'he is', which must be pretty good tonight save the various expressions of Sara who was hiding during on campus. Before the phobia struck, perhaps this girl had a natural, angry, and active attitude.

"I'll send ya."

"No," he refused. He got up and stretched his body for a moment. The two plastic bags by my side that had been an intermediary for the transverse distance, were taken independently.

"I can help you get the stuff."

"No, Kim Taehyung." Sara's legs started to go. "I first. You too, quickly go home there. Your camera needs a break."

I was clearly tracking his steps. "He's good in my jacket pocket."

"Jeez, Kim Taehyung, stay here, okay? Don't follow me...uh, I mean if you take me with you what about the house dog? My dog is so fierce." Sara continued on her way to leave me.

Like a robot engineered by professor Yoon Sara who programmed me to be helpless. Can't do anything but really stay in place. Behind the hood of the jacket, I glanced at Sara's back which was inching smaller. We'll meet again and talk a lot, right?

"I like dogs, by the way!" Where might hear. Sara had already turned in a fork near there, free to scream.

Again alone occupied the outskirts of retail stores. This is what it feels like to be lonely that I've been through for years. Although there are still pacing customers in and out of retail stores, noisy vehicles line the road, audiences down the sidewalk, bland taste remains haunting. Tight as in a cage.

Time has given power to the night. Low-roar vehicles began to go out, the road began to be quiet, the courtesy cashier began to clean up the stock boxes of goods because customers were starting to decline. The more dissolved the more silent the undermining.

Until the clouds take turns accompanying through crying. Drizzle arrived, followed by rain. One-on-one until swarming Korean soil archery.

The echoes of rain rob the silence. Lonely momentary. Petrikor smelled soothing. I took the air around deeply through the sense of smell, then swallowed it slowly. Everything feels so bad.

Suddenly the shadow of the umbrella settled in my area, the time of the raising of the head of the umbrella shaded with the face of someone. Scheduled out a folding umbrella and he offered shade.

"You want to come to my house?"

Scribbling an empty page with its own characters, I don't think I can. I need a complement. Among the fading beliefs about the way the universe works, maybe I need a sagging brush to get the ink scratches done to the end of the page.

"Ja, don't assume anything weird. You said you liked dogs, so it's probably okay to stay in my house. That's all, remember. Quickly take this."

Aye, yes. I trust. My smile is selfless.

Stretch the distance of the folding umbrella from the owner, stand up, and bring the umbrella to stand beside Sara's. It turned out that when we faced off, Yoon Sara had to look up and I had to kind of bow my head. Diterka-different size our height range a dozen centimeters maybe.

"Say you hate men" I said, sneering.

Sara grunts. "Yes, and I hate you so much."

🌻

MALE young adult, complete with round jaws; lazy eye; and skin as clear as the top artist, glued after opening the door of the apartment. Whether the treatment or not, but that smooth face was a complete contradiction to the makeshift sleeping t-shirt she was wearing. Plus the apron still hung down on his neck and was tied around his waist.

Mimik did not expect to be painted from both eyebrows that eroded the distance until the forehead wrinkles appeared. Just like I was too. Perhaps each of us was made flabbergasted at the closely related scourge of Yoon Sara, in connection with the exposure to reality.

A guy? At Yoon Sara's house?

Or according to his perspective, the man Yoon Sara brought home?

"My name is Kim Taehyung, 22 years old, majoring in fine arts." I bowed my head, the initiative to introduce myself in a moment of silent wind provided incredible awkwardness.

This man was silent, only his gaze stripped me from the base of my hair to my feet. Take a good look. "He's a boy?"

A word full of suspicion. I think I understand the cruel, sarcastic highlight projected through Sara's gut neutrals, probably having a source. Although the premise that says Sara and this guy forerunner to a factory is not necessarily true. Just an assumption.

"Solar, Brother. Step aside, you're blocking the entrance," Sara said sharply. A moment of sinister delicacy was poked towards me who was working on the part of the protagonist. "You too, don't get me wrong. He's my cousin's brother, not a mistress or anything."

"I never thought so," I err, plain. At least the speculation that has since been explained can be confirmed clearly. And my theory is not wrong.

Yoon Sara broke through the formidable arm of her cousin sister whom I did not yet know, leaving us both. Damn, the aura is like the defendant was about to be handled by the police during interrogation. Moreover, a more piercing highlight managed to shrink my heart in an instant.

"Min Yoon-gi. I'm just surprised Sara brought a man in after all this time. Come inside." Sara's cousin, Yoongi, comes in first. The door was left open waiting for another guest to follow. And there the air that seemed to constrict tetiba was rather loose and relieving.

Fortunately a warm welcome was presented by a gnarled brown puddle dog barking for attention, the role of the best homeowner tonight.

It turns out they actually keep dogs, but it doesn't feel bad. What a dichotomy, he's a mere spoiled dog who thirsts for caresses. The proof is that the dog's round black eyes, which are lush surrounded by curly fur, are closed to drift and soak the comfort of the fingertips around his neck.

"Do you really like dogs? Holly we seem to be at home." Yoon Sara sneaked in an interaction of Kim Taehyung with Holly, whom I just recorded her name.

I just laughed. "Well, that's it."

"I just finished cooking. Your friends can eat here too." Sister cousin Sara slightly raised the volume of the sound, removed the apron, and cleaned the kitchen for a while. After the trash, from the kitchen corner sister Sara's cousin glanced at me. I knew he didn't mean to be fierce at all, but his gaze was very discriminating. "You, Sara's friend, get changed in my room first."

It is not polite to visit in a wet situation. Yoongi passed the code through his tiny head so I could track him down. Step unravel as you walk through the interior of Min or Yoon's apartment, anyone. Looks like they're just two, and Sara's really at home? Isn't this a bit sacred?

In the room, Brother Yoon-gi stripped the closet naked. He searched the contents, looking for t-shirts that fit as possible. Again the circular view can not stand me spread throughout the room. Too typical of apartment rooms, only the walls are lined with posters of old musicians and bands. The Beatles, Eminem, Imagine Dragons, Post Malone, and many more I haven't heard of. Until kerling as if stepping on the brake right on an old portrait frame. My forehead is spontaneous.

I thought it was an old portrait, because there is Yoon Sara whose charm is still childish. The detail of the photo describes three teenagers whose center is a figure I think of as Yoon Sara, smiling widely and loosely. It seems like you've just laughed at something, sweetener snap photos that the results like a flattering aesthetic price. Around her neck was a narrow-eyed man's arm and a fierce face that I immediately recognized as Yoon Sara's older cousin. An annoyance crossed the pupils of the eyes that paraded to the right of his sister.

On Sara's right side I mean, there's a foreign figure that's attracting attention. Because there are no pretenses that I can compare between his figure with Sara and Min Yoongi. He pulls Sara's hand without being touched by the owner, but the cool one looks like a cousin. Naturally, this foreign figure was seen protesting towards Min Yoongi, probably because it seemed too protective. At that time take a harmonious camera and one portrait is immortalized.

"This shirt. Nihat" Vokal sayup Kak Yoon is vaguely not enough to snatch the point to the direction my eyes contemplate. Until the frame was face down by his hand and a loud bang immediately stirred awareness. He put his clothes on again. "Nih wear. Take a shower and don't forget."

"O, oh.yeah." I received Kak Yoongi's black cotton shirt, then moved out of the room without gouging out details of the scenes from the time the portrait was taken.

It would be nice to be quiet before it is time for me to dive further into the background of Yoon Sara. Although curious already undermined the ferocious.

"Have a certain intention of approaching my sister?" Brother Yoongi suddenly asked and I turned around quickly. There Sara's older cousin fixed the frame back at once, then looked at me full of probes. The interrogation premonition is really happening now.

I scratched my neck in the wrong way. "Specific means.well, maybe you could say so. I like Sara to be the object of my camera's capture."

"I'm not gonna ban that, but you know Sara..."

"Androphobia?"

Cousin sister Sara glanced again towards the frame. It was a bit mellow behind her lip valve that held a lot of mystery.

"The photo is like it contains warm nostalgia right," my chirps really suck at curbing curiosity. This soul will never end up undermining the various understandings of Yoon Sara.

Min Yoongi withdrew to decide to tidy up the closet he had dismantled earlier. Silence struck, but my body felt heavy stepping. Instincts feel an extremely responsible atmosphere. As if there were still unfinished words.

"If Sara finds out I'm still putting her picture on display, it could come back for weeks."

Huh huh? Too sudden and too big. Dikti Kak Yoongi is like a gust of wind on Jeju island, just hearing it as if frozen body. "Is it something to do with the man in the photo?"

"He's my friend, his friend."

Oh, my God, my tongue twisted for a moment. The choice is between continuing the clumsiness or stopping the meddling. I'm sorry, brother, it seems that my curiosity won.

"Peny..."

"Yes, Sara's cause has a phobia. His name is Park Jimin."

The wardrobe that had been slick closed Brother Yoongi, he paripurned the analytical doubts that almost flashed.

🌻

The To Be Continued.