(story 3)

My papers are wailing, wanting to be written with tales of our journey through blood, sweat, tears and galaxy dust. But what can I tell when our story has not even started?

"There is a storm inside of you," words tumble out of your lips listlessly, all fine hair and clothes posh boys alike. "And it is not calming down any sooner."

"You're wrong," I smile with my 8.000 gigawatt worth of grin. "I have a sun inside of me."

"What? Are you bluffing?"

I twirl starlight tresses of my hair. "The Creator gave it to me as a gift when I was created."

"What for? What does a girl can do with a sun inside of her?" 

"To light up the world," you can't be more cruel than scoffing into my answers. You are so, so different than the person who you used to be. And I shall understand. 

"Whose world?"

"It's all up to you," you look so puzzled and then lowers the cigarette from your lips. Wonwoo.

You chuckle lightheartedly, and pats a sit beside him. This is her. "You don't understand what you're talking about. Let's talk, what's your name?"

I try to not beam so brightly and make flowers bloom out of concrete pavements. "Seulgi."

And our story has started, yet again.