Dollhouse

Chapter One

✞

Tall buildings, with noses of their occupants to match; the air thick with arrogance, butts of rich cigars, and fragrant wine. The laughter of demons, as the high hats unlocked their E - Class Mercedes Benzes. Rich was an understatement, when talking about these “people” if you will. More like Gods, they described themselves; as if they have the term tattooed on their vastly bent ego’s. Money in the hands of certain people, could change the world or make fools out of them.  

Mr. Lee, a highly praised middle aged man, with a mouth etched with a grill of dollar bills and golden snakes. He’d make promises that make those without, giddy; then snatch you up like an overpriced appetizer. Only to laugh and piss all over you, while his wife, runs around in your frustration picking up your riches. The perfect couple, the spitting cobra and his whisperer. She’d plan it all, he’d follow through and then the day goes on. If it wasn’t already a pain to know these people, try being their youngest son.

My eldest brother, is the prized son, the one to run the business shortly after his graduation from University. He dislikes our parents as much as I do, but we keep on the down low. A few years ago he left for college in hopes to graduate a doctor or filmographer; somehow he managed to do the first one, and went back to claim his second certificate. I admire him,yes, but even though, he, dislikes our parents, he does a swell job their asses.

⊱ ⊰

The light rainfall, slid off the pitched roof; collectively splashing into a small puddle. The moisture from the smoke, mixed with the cold air, Taemin, shook in his expensive cashmere turtleneck, and leather coat. Adjusting his collar, zipping his coat a bit; taking one last puff, before flicking the cig to the cracked, wet, mossed covered sidewalk. Smothering it out with the heel of his withered high top converse. The sounds of a bus echoed through the empty rundown street; one of the reasons he liked this place, was it’s emptiness at 5:30 am. Appearing around the corner, the bus made its way to him. Sliding his wallet out of his left back pocket, skipping up the three steps, swiping his card; taking an empty seat, a new face teased for his attention.

“Hi, there”, she curled her tongue at him.

Making brief eye contact, “I wish to not talk nonsense”; he replied lethargically, shifting his attention out the window.

Watching the distorted figures, bending in the view of the fogged bus window; ignoring the latter, “what a ,” she slithered offensively, under her breath. Didn’t mean anything to Taemin, he had gotten used to this behaviour. The insight people think they have on him, and easy “girls” throwing themselves at him; in hopes he’d give them pleasure. Being twenty-one and born rich, is something like a thing called, a bittersweet relationship.

Leaning back in the cold seat, drifting into, the dark corners of his mind. Not bothering with the earbuds,trying to remain somewhat calm. The bumps and elevations of the road, pulled and jerked, his body everywhere, as if his demons themselves; wished to drag him to hell. Blinking the direct light in his eyes away, forehead scrunched and a familiar cologne filled his nostrils. Checking the time on his phone, his hood was jerked off.

“Lookie here, this young lady is back”, the thick neck smirked.

Combing his fingers through his hair, sliding his earbuds into his ears, looking at the latter’s ugly face. He was like the definition of a baby ostrich, Big eyed and born with a scowl, it’s a shame he looked way older than twenty-three. But by his attitude he was enough trouble.

“Little , gon’ run aye?” he teased, the other rider’s following Taemin’s back.

Mouth shut, eyes hooded,hood fixed on his head, heart calm and a fire brewing; he left the bus. “ I have no wish to level with children, who act out, as a means to better themselves”. A statement so sharp, the air grew stale; walking along the wet sidewalk, far better kept than before. A restaurant was being prepared for an opening; perplexed by the slight interior, that could be seen via the soft light fixtures inside. There appeared a middle aged woman with a jovial aura about her.

“ What are you staring at? Creep!” a small person with a stern voice said, and a hood covering her face,she nudged me. “ Get going!”

Walking away, I turned, “ The makings of a wonderful restaurant; but I have one rhetoric for you?”

“ Oh yeah, what-” her small frame retorted.

“ How much do you make as their guard dog?” howling I left her standing there, brewing more.

Running to catch the light, rubbing his hands together, for warmth, brisk walking until he was on the street towards his destination. The splashes of the rain puddles under his feet, ended abruptly as he opened the door to his class hall, the bell ringing behind him.

“ Ah, Mr. Lee , have a seat, I hope you are prepared for your performance final?”

“Always”.

⊱ ⊰

Given free time, for finishing the performance final early; the grand piano, glossy and black called for Taemin. Quietly jogging towards the instrument, he sat and began to loosen his fingers. Clearing his throat, he started with a hum and then let out a few lyrics. Still snuggled in the humble home of this song.

“The path I’m trying to go back is a maze

The wind that brushes against my cheeks

I open my arms up above It doesn’t matter

I need an angel’s hand-”

Voice , vulnerable and warm; unaware of a young woman, watching him from her empty music sheets. She had came here to be a ballerina , not a composer. But still she watched him carefully and intimately.

“If I can wash away my sin

I will bend down on my two knees right now

Even if my neck tightens

Even if my body gets destroyed

I call heaven to witness, I raise a hand

I just wanna be a soldier-”

Taemin had left the dim studio practice room and entered a whole new realm. She had never seen someone so passionate about music. It was something new, to see someone completely involved in their craft, as if he was born to perform. Even though he sang his heart out, sitting behind this large piano, probably thinking he was alone. She couldn’t help but stare in amazement.

“Baby give you

Kiss me kiss me”

He lowered his head to the piano, as his voice fell away and he whined at the few tears that fell. Wiping them away, pulling the cover over the keys and grabbing his phone from atop the piano. Turning, he made eye contact with the young woman.

“What are you doing here?” he asked with a slight sting to it.

She fumbled for her empty sheet music and bag, “ I was trying to find books on music theory.” she awkwardly smiled at him.

“Let me guess, Mrs. Panapa told you there were books here?” The latter nodded, avoiding eye contact. “ well there are no books here, but I can show you where some are?”

Nodding her head, “ that would be very helpful, um, sorry your name?”

“Taemin,” he stretched out his forearm , preparing to bow.

“ Ah, the prodigy-” she replied, her body language closed.

Standing upright, sliding his phone in his back pocket; heading for the door. “You know, there is a lot to learn, but in order to learn you have to relax and let it happen.” With that, he left the room, leaving her in a confused state. Grabbing her bag, and empty sheets of music, scowling she left the room; she just screwed up her chance at making a good grade.

Stepping out of the studio room, mindset on getting home, he grabbed her wrist. “ The library, is two commons down and the music theory section is in the back, by the lounge area.” he smiled a toothy smile, and went on to get to the dance studio, so he could get some practice in and head home shortly after; he had a bus to catch.  

⊱ ⊰

Walking into his home, no greeting , nothing, “ i’m home”, he yelled, nobody answered. Running to his room, he flopped on his bed and burrowed under his throw blanket. The Quiet , of the semi empty house; pleasing and comforting.

“ Sir, I have news for you,” someone spoke from the other side of the door.

“ Come in,Willard” Taemin responded, climbing out of the blankets like a cat. “ What is this news?”

“ Your mother, and father have left on a sudden business trip; they will be meeting your brother as well.”

“ Yippee, i’m all alone at last,” he cheered sarcastically.

“ So i am on my job to make sure you are safe -”

“ I’m always safe, take the day off, please, relax.” Taemin spoke, a bit emptier than before. “ You’ve been wonderful, now as my friend, I want you to go home to your family and relax; drink, make love or watch those lame comedy shows,” the two laughed.

“ You’ll be okay, in here by yourself?”Willard ask.

Taemin nodded, “ mhm, now go; see you tomorrow,” With that, Willard was off.

His eyes, skated over his bundled bedding, sighing; he decided to get homework done. Maybe afterwards, he’d go to the nearest bar and meet someone; but that old thought crept back into his pineal. “Is the lady, with the new shop, in need of help?.”  

Author Note  : Based off of Dollhouse by Melanie Martinez ; Character introductions and a story beginning. Comment below , subscribe, or upvote! Thanks for reading Sugar Cookies!