“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Taehyun’s low murmur fills the void with sorrowful dreams and forgotten memories. His tall figure leans against the kitchen counter while he listens to the clock’s monotonous ticking, the coffee machine’s humming and the older man talking on the phone.

“You just have to play for a few hours every night in the bistro. You get free accommodation and food. Plus, you can keep all your tips,” the owner keeps showering him with enticing arguments just to persuade him. To be fair, a decent job in a little seaside town where probably nobody knows him sounds more than good enough in his current state but there’s a hitch. There’s always one.

“It’s really nice of you, Uncle Minho, but I’m not into music anymore,” he bumps his head lightly into the shelves with his eyes closed. The confession leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Maybe coffee. The black type he likes on Sunday mornings. It reminds him of better days when his future wasn’t this dark.

Nam Taehyun is a phenomenon. He is one of a kind, a well-written tragedy about downfall. Three years ago, the media called him a lyrical genius, a mysterious man with the voice of angels. The public swooned over him and he was the country’s hottest trend, winning hearts left and right. Today, however, he is bad news nobody likes to talk about and people still stare at him at the streets with eyes full of disdain. One mistake was enough to stigmatize him for a lifetime.

“Bull. A kid like you was born to be a musician,” the man on the other side of the line is quick to disagree and Taehyun sighs. Three years ago he would have agreed. But things change, people change. His life turned upside down in one day. But how can he explain this to somebody who has been supporting him since day 1? He even convinced his brother and sister-in-law to let their son pursue music. And apparently, he believes in him with no end.

“Look if you’re not doing this for yourself, do this for us. Help us out until we can find a new pianist,” the man asks, his tone slightly changing into a more desperate, pleading one.

Taehyun curses under his breath because he knows if he says no, he will be tossing around in his bed at night, bathing in guilt. He knows exactly how hard his uncle works for that bistro but he’s afraid he would disappoint him even more. He gave up on music a long time ago because each melody turned into a requiem stabbing him in the heart as depression took hold of him. The anxiety he has always had barking like a little puppy grew into a monster clawing at his skin. It made him want to distance himself from people, to avoid any kind of social interaction and to lock himself up in his one bedroom apartment. Between the four walls, he developed a handful of bad habits like irregular sleeping pattern, smoking, rarely eating anything else but ordered takeout or instant ramen. He has been a miserable mess for the past three years, so it can’t get any worse, right?

“Okay,” he sighs in defeat and promises Minho that he would be there the following day. He doesn’t have anything better to do and it’s only for a week or two at most anyway. He doesn’t plan to stay longer. So he only packs what’s necessary, nothing more, nothing less.

It takes a four-hour-long bus ride from Seoul to Jangho, the small fishing village with only a few hundred residents. He dozes off a few times not really paying attention to the fast-changing, freshening scenery. The countryside’s pretty colours don’t mesmerize those who rather see the world in black and white. At some point, a granny starts to talk to him, saying that he reminds her of her grandson. Instead of engaging in the conversation Taehyun sends her a death glare and makes a show of putting his earbuds in but the old lady doesn’t seem to get the hint and continues talking. The young man rolls his eyes and turns away as much as he can with a sigh. Now facing the window, he can already see glimpses of the shore.

Childhood memories bubble up in his system about building sand castles on the beach only to watch the waves crash them later on and the sound of fruity laughter still rings in his ears. Jangdo makes him want to be a child again: carefree and happy. But what is happiness really? Taehyun isn’t so sure about that anymore.

When the bus pulls aside at the next stop, he stands up abruptly. It makes the chirpy veteran woman jump in surprise but he doesn’t care. He just gathers his stuff and gets off of the vehicle as quickly as he can. He doesn’t look anyone in the eye as he passes some shops of the main street because he doesn’t want to interact with anyone. Villagers can be so irritably nice and noisy sometimes but he doesn’t need polite questions about his wellbeing or stay. It’s a small village where everyone knows everyone so he can already feel those suspicious glances on his back, shooting daggers. He must be just another mysterious stranger in their perfect little town who cannot mean anything but trouble.

However, he actually made an effort to look more like a decent human being rather than the zombie he feels like inside: he shaved, washed his chocolate brown hair that keeps falling in front of his eyes because of its length and put on appropriate clothes, not just sweatpants he usually wears at home. What’s more, he intends to act like a gentleman and surprise his aunt with a bouquet of flowers in thanks for their hospitality. So his first stop in the Jangdo is a flower shop just around the corner.

The ringing of bells above the door causes a disharmony in the air that makes Taehyun flinch just as he steps a foot inside. There’s nobody at the counter to greet him, only the colourful petals. The little cozy shop smells sweet like flowers which is no surprise at all.

“Hello?” he makes some noise, trying to draw attention to him, the total contrary to what he was trying to do during the last three years. He looks around lazily while he waits for the owner to arrive but to his surprise, the shop assistant who finally appears by the door is a lot younger than he’d expected and strangely familiar. The girl looks no older than twenty years old, has shiny, wavy black hair swaying just a little above her hips and a shy smile on her face. She’s skinny and pale but that’s not what throws Taehyun off. Even though she moves with ease, ever so confidently, the tip of her fingers brush against the old paper on the wall and her eyes doesn’t focus on anything in particular when she greets the visitor.

“Welcome to the Rainbow. How can I help you?”

Her voice is airy, sickeningly sweet like saccharine and Taehyun chokes on his saliva as he recognizes the softness of her features, the light flutter of her eyelashes, that dreamy look on her pretty face. But no… it can’t be! What would she do here of all places? It’s too much of a coincidence. Unless...

With a final thought, everything clicks. Of course, he wanted him to come here. In such a tiny town you cannot even avoid anyone. His uncle wanted them to meet. For him to see what he did and it angers him.

“You are still here?” the girl asks nicely, completely oblivious about the boy standing frozen only a few feet away from her. She can’t see him and it’s his fault so Taehyun does what he’s doing the best: he runs away.

He runs until he reaches Uncle Minho’s bistro and bursts in without a proper hello or a bouquet of flowers.

“Tae, so good to-” his relative greets him with a wide smile spreading onto his rosy cheeks and opens his arms for a big bear hug. But his nephew beats him to it by grabbing the collar of his dress shirt desperately. The curly haired, chubby man has always been kind to him, but to Hell with being nice, Minho probably just wants to torture him.

“Did you know that she’s here? Did you call me here on purpose just to make me feel even more guilty?” Taehyun snaps at him not caring about the diner’s customers and their curious gazes. Unbridled, raw anger boils in him overcoming his passive depression and the flames burn vividly in his pitch black eyes.

Still, Minho doesn’t flinch.

“And what if I knew? I didn’t lie about anything. You never asked about her after the judicial decision,” he reminds his nephew in a calm, tactful voice. He has never wanted to upset him but he knew that it was inevitable to solve the current problem. He just wants to help. Both Taehyun and the florist girl need proper closure after everything that happened. “You can leave if you can’t face the consequences of your actions and you want to live your whole life in that dark place you dragged yourself. But you have to move on and facing your past is the key.”

The ex-musician’s silence is a heavy answer because deep down he knows that his uncle is right. That’s why his condition hasn’t gotten better in the last three years. Because it’s easier to bury his head in the sand and punish himself than letting others to do the same. Does it makes him a coward? Would he still run away? Would he prove the haters right?

Taehyun sighs and lets go of the creased collar.

“You should have told me,” he says hoarsely, head hanging low, eyes burning.

“You wouldn’t have come then.”

The young man gulps but doesn’t argue. He turns his back on his uncle, leaving him behind.

“Exactly. I wouldn’t have.”

The door gets slammed loudly.