Note: Trigger Warning for hint of substance use.

(Happy 2017! Sorry... I took down the previous release soon after publishing it (1 hr?) because I wanted to change it to first person account. Didn't come on since then so only noticed the comments. I have changed about 60% of the text but content is basically the same. lol... why did I do it?) 

(LJS)

The strange smell from the thin swirl of white smoke, so different from before, quietly permeates the air within the four walls of the tiny space. Squatting with my back against the door, my eyes stray to a corner of the tight room, before they land on the small velvet pouch beside me. I look at it without much thoughts, unlike the significance of why it's there. My mind... it's clear of everything... just like my spirit, which has likely been folded somewhere in oblivion. I try to adapt to the plasticky scent I have yet to get used to, and lift my nose upwards. The plain and old ceiling, it hangs morbidly over me, like the sole witness to a dirty deed. It watches me, and condemns me. I stare back at it dully, as if I have waited for flowers to bloom from the lifeless surface for too long - huge, big field of small, yellow flowers; to cover it, and blind its eyes. Of course, nothing happens. But for a brief moment, I thought I saw promises.

The whiff of smoke, it travels through my body, snakes into my mind, and rushes to fill me. It delivers me, and transforms me. I... feel good. I close my fingers over the small glass tube in my hand, and shut my eyes. A different state of mind... it is achievable. Happiness, obtainable. All it needs, is only a minute.

Time slips by as I drown in this world of my own, swimming in my deficiencies, and breathing without a tomorrow. But another world remains, a world which has become further and further away from me, yet as real as the damned glass in my hand. I put the still warm cylinder into the pouch and shove it in my pocket. One last glance at the miserable ceiling, and I get up to unlock the door. A small, shiny object flirts at me from the floor, like the cutting glare of a sword before its sharp blade draws the blood from its victim's neck. I bend down, and pick it up. It is a small shard of broken mirror. I quietly take in the pathetic reflection for a moment, and tosses it aside. Like the devil's mirror, it shows what I do not want to see. I run my fingers through my hair, and steps out from the washroom, ready to face the world.

"Why... are you worried that I might die?" I question the girl. Her eyes are big, and kind. Her earnestness seems real. I discreetly bite the inner part of my lips, so that I will not laugh out loud at the amusing scenario. Me? Die? What would she know. I ignore a niggling uneasiness deep within me, and wait for her answer.

"I am one of those people," she replies with a strange combination of confidence and concern, "who wants your life to be a happy ending. Jong Suk, I'm your fan, really." She stares bravely back at me and I know, the inevitable will come.

"Cut!" a firm voice booms over our heads. "Hyo Joo, Jong Suk, we'll do this again after a break."

I let out a throaty chuckle I'd been holding in - I knew we have to do the scene again. She had addressed me by my name, not the name of the character I play. "Noona, thanks for being my fan," I bend over from laughing too hard, "I'll get you my autographed picture later." Her eyes become even bigger and wider, her hands cover her gaping mouth, as she realizes her mistake. She goes around apologizing to everyone, even though she doesn't need to.

"Here," she says, passing me a can of ice coffee while taking a seat beside me. "Sorry for just now."

I take it from her, and let the cold, unopened can cool my hands. "Don't worry, we all need a break," I wink at her.

"You know, you look like you had stepped right out of a manhwa," she says a little sheepishly, attempting to explain the reason she had the names mixed up.

"Ryuk?" I ask, scratching my temple.

"Who?"

"You know, the Shinigami in..." I rise to my feet and imitate the famous death god.

"No, no..." she bursts out laughing, "I mean those really good looking manhwa characters... just like how Kang Chul would be. No... you are Kang Chul!"

I grin like a cute puppy as my hands frame my face. "Really? Kang Chul is a handsome hero!" and flutter my lashes exaggeratedly.

"Oh my... I should have a dongsaeng like you instead!" she laughs and slaps my shoulder.

The truth is, Hyo Joo noona... she has no idea. Kang Chul and Jong Suk, they are not the same. Kang Chul, he is the role I play. He is a manhwa hero who has come alive in the drama. He is able to save himself from desperation, defeating a sad fate thrown to him by his creator. He overcomes the impossible to find happiness - by his will-power alone. Even his name means steel - a testament to his strong character. But Jong Suk? He is only a human. Kang Chul and I, we are definitely not the same. But there is no reason why I should tell her so.

She takes a sip from her own can, and starts to fan herself. "PD-nim showed me some scenes you did yesterday. It must be hot in that suit," she empathizes. Nobody knows why this summer is so hot. The takes yesterday were not easy. I had to fight a group of men under the blazing sun while artificial rain poured on us. Yet, I was in high spirits. I was so happy I was even humming a tune in-between takes. What was the song again? I remember it goes:

Why was it so hard

to come back to you

I realize only now

That until the day I die...

(Back to you, - Kim Kyung Ho)

https://youtu.be/jbdQbPPBqik?t=6s

But I've forgotten the last words to that sentence. I smile as water droplets from the unopened can wet my hands.

-----

I like the cafe at the quiet end of the street. It is  always empty except for a table or two. Here, I can enjoy a drink without getting too much attention.

"Sorry, we should have gone straight to my place," I say, putting the two drinks on the table.

"No, I'm glad you brought me here. It's a nice place," the man assures in his pleasant, warm voice. "Mmm... the coffee is really good... do you come here often?"

"Kind of." How long has it been? I used to come here often... with a friend.

"You prefer tea?" Lee Tae Hwan asks, eyeing my choice.

"Sure, it's great for summer," I tell him, looking at the glass of ice-cold drink in front of me - it looks perfect for this summer's sweltering heat. This is the first time I had ordered tea in this place, or any other places for that matter. The expression of the counter girl when she heard my order was... priceless.

I put the straw between my lips and take a sip. It is pleasant and easy to drink, unlike coffee which is strong and leaves a lasting aftertaste.

The intoxicating fragrance from Tae Hwan's cup of Americano spills over, the familiar smell making me queasy. I guess, I miss coffee... but it's not the ones here. There is someone I know who brews a great cup of Colombian. Someone who would come here with me whenever the Colombian runs out.

"You're right, this summer is crazy hot," Tae Hwan's voice appears to come from afar, breaking my thoughts. "I could hardly concentrate while shooting."

"Ya, that's not an excuse!" I pull myself back to the conversation. I too, had trouble concentrating, though it was not due to the weather.

"I know, I will work hard even if it's just a bodyguard," the rookie actor says, his eyes bright with hope. It reminds me of the warmth of summer, not the extreme heat. "But still, I'm really glad we managed to wrap up early today."

"Right, and tomorrow's editing so that means we can finally sleep in," I jested, joining him in his enthusiasm.

"Eight hours!"
 

"No, twelve!"

I've always been more lucky than unlucky when it comes to my co-stars. Most of them are easy-going, and we get along well. The leading lady in this drama is an example, so is the one who plays my bodyguard. Lee Tae Hwan - he is tall and well-built, and with a matured appearance some mistake him to be older than me even though he is a few years younger.

We chat over the drinks, not noticing outside the cafe, a lone man had stopped his steps upon spotting us. If I had looked outside, I would see that the passerby had worn a smile when he saw me. However, his grin was wiped off as soon as it appeared, for the person seated across from me came into his view. That man hesitates outside the familiar cafe - the cafe which is his secret haunt with me. His Adam's apple constricts his throat as the tight muscles around his cheeks try to find a way to breathe. He turns, and quietly walks away, towards the direction of his apartment not far from here.

-----

At this time of the year the hour is still bright and the area gives off a chic and positive vibe. Another couple of hours more it'll look different. When night falls it is dim and quiet, like the last stars before they burn out.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Tae Hwan hesitates as we approach the elevator to my apartment. "I don't want to put you out..."

"You're not," I give him a look that tells him not to be silly.

"But you hardly get any rest..."

I put my hand on his broad shoulder, giving it a few assuring taps. "I need to go through my lines too," I wink, recalling how difficult it was for me when I first started acting. He had approached me regarding some scenes and I want to help as long as I'm able to.

I give the well-developed shoulder muscles a friendly squeeze, but a sudden grip on my wrist forces my hand off his shoulder.

"... Woo Bin?" I turn to see that person.

"I need to talk to you. In private." That person, he is staring at me. His tone is emotionless, yet grittier than sand. His clamp-like grasp refusing to let go.

"But," I have a guest. And I don't wish to see him now... I don't know how to see him without throwing myself into a bottomless pit.

"I need some soju," he states plainly, pulling me towards the elevator.

I freeze on the spot, as I yank my hand free from him. "There's no more," I lied. I have more bottles of soju than my fridge can hold, but the mention of that drink triggers a part of me I shouldn't go near. I've tried so hard... I've tried everything... to see him as a friend. And as long as I can't see him as one, I should keep our distance as far as possible.

But he grabs hold of my wrist again, not realizing his grip is as brutal as the reality only I'm aware of.

"My place then! I have coffee!" he raises his voice. It catches me off guard. I have not seen him behave so inexplicably high-handed and unreasonable before. What could he want to talk about that cannot wait? He turns towards the direction of the opposite building, dragging me along.

"Hey, just a moment, don't you think..." Lee Tae Hwan steps up to block the rude person.

"None of your business," Kim Woo Bin coldly cuts him off.

Sometimes, I wonder...

if I ever am given a chance to live my life over again... will I end up with a same fate, just as Kang Chul did?

Will I... still meet this same person... whom I could never have?

 (tbc...)