Let's face it.

We've all wanted something we can't have.

Truth is, when you know you can't have it, it only makes you want it more, whether it be the job promotion you've been working hard all year for, or the last concert ticket for your favorite band, or, as in L.Joe's case, the affection of the person he really loves.

His fingers ached with every effort he made to twirl the ring he had held between his forefinger and thumb. There were still marks of dirt and dust from where it had fallen on the ground, exactly where he had found it last night. L.Joe lifted it up to level with his eyes and watched as the silver jewelry glistened under the warm sunlight.

At that moment had he only realized that the sun had already risen on his part of the world. He had barely slept a wink for who knows how many hours, and the silver ring caused it all, not that it was worth anything now.

Lealtà. Fiducia. Fratellanza.

Loyalty, trust, and brotherhood -- all three words embedded on the ring, which was especially a symbol of belonging to the Family. He had the same one worn around his neck, and he wondered what self-righteousness did Chunji think he has to give it away. For the hundredth time, L.Joe hoped it really WAS only brotherhood he felt towards his fellow mobster, but right now, he wallowed in self-denial to no avail. At the moment, nothing made sense to him.

In a few more minutes, L.Joe's phone would ring, blaring the name of the person he had considered god for the past years. The mafia boss, or the Don as they call him, had treated him as his own son, entrusted him with everything he has, and made him as the consigliere, the right hand of the Boss.

Never had he tried once to do anything without the Don's permission, or else his neck would have been slit open brutally before, and his corpse would have long been decomposed and rotten underground.

It was all Chunji's fault, he wanted to blame and point his finger towards his fellow mafia member who started it all. It was Chunji and his uncanny affection for a normal girl, which was utterly forbidden and off the record, that put them in this difficult situation.

It was no longer a matter of life and death. It has always been centered on brotherhood and debt of gratitude. With that in mind, all ethical standards and criteria have been thrown out the goddamn window.

morality.

But as said, if you point your finger at someone, there would be four other fingers pointing back to you. In some way or another, he was also to blame. He had let himself be entangled in an endless, sticky spider web with no way out.

But then again, who was to predict the future and tell him to slow down and be cautious of the things that were about to happen? If regret came first, then people wouldn't have done the action that caused regret in the first place.

He stared at the shards of broken glass on the floor. It was a proof of his desperation for amnesia, for a complete brainwash of last night's events, and probably even of the emotions that his useless brain created, together with the fantasy life that came with it.

The more he thought of it, the more he craved for a delete button. What was most important right now was that he had accomplished another job well done without sacrificing his own intentions and benefits, but at the expense of others.

As expected, his phone rang, breaking the silence. "Yoboseyo?" he answered. "Ya, L.Joe. Chunji's right here. He wants to talk to you," the deep, authoritative voice of the Don pulled him from his thoughts and back to reality.

--

He grasped her hand as she tried to find balance while walking on an imaginary straight line. "Aren't you needed somewhere else?" she asked with a smile brighter than the stars twinkling from above.

Chunji had found a loophole through his boss' all-seeing eye yet again, and he had made sure he would follow his own schedule even just for this night, sparing a handful of souls that he might have sent into Hell if it wasn't for the girl he was with.

He never imagined he would meet someone like her in this lifetime, in this lifestyle to be exact. He had lived a life of revenge and anger, and he himself was a monster in his own eyes.

He always imagined himself to be eternally damned, even reaching up to the point where he calls himself soulless. But to her, he was an angel. The word got him chewing on the insides of his cheeks when he first heard it erupting from her lips.

"No. Not at all."

Truth be told, he'd rather be beside her than be anywhere else. The before and after Chunji can be compared in a huge Venn diagram, and the list would be endless.

But at the back of his mind, he still belonged to one of the most vicious Mafia families in the Seoul underground and held by the neck by the Don he had adored like Michaelangelo's David, whose grasp was inescapable. He had been too fearful of breaching his belongingness, for there was no such thing as excommunication.

His grip around her soft, long fingers grew tighter and his eyes widened like the full moon when the thing he was searching for couldn't be found. "I told you to always wear the ring," he scolded, to which she just smiled. "On my other hand," said the girl, as she clung to his hand tighter.

She had been hesitant to accept his small token of love. The three Italian words sounded foreign to her, especially the values on which those were founded. He had vowed to tell her everything someday, but he started on letting her in on the secret little by little, one step at a time.

If the Family had known what he was doing, he would have been shot on the spot, and if they were feeling a little more brute, they would have killed her too.

He knew he was being selfish on her part, considering the danger just them simply being together imposes. But she also has no idea of what awaits him after he comes back home and after all the lies he excuses his absences with to save both their heads from being chopped off.

If Chunji could die right now and he'd have to talk to God, if there ever was one, He wouldn't ask of how many people he'd killed, how much money he had earned, nor how much impact he had made on the minds and souls of people he'd left behind.

Instead, He would ask Chunji, "Were you happy with the life I've planned for you?" And Chunji had already the answer in his mind.

All his life he had been wandering endlessly along the path to self-discovery. But the travel didn't last long for him. He gave up altogether, seeing how this world was all messed up, crazy, and almost nearing its finale.

If that was the case, then what was the use of knowing himself if he was damn worthless anyway, just one of the seven billion residents of the self-destructing planet? No one would even shed a tear if his heart stopped beating and his lungs gave up breathing. Maybe this world really was another planet's hell.

But then she came. And it's as if all his pride was swallowed deep deep down, all his sins were silently forgiven, all his pains and sufferings ceased to exist. He laid his eyes on her beautiful face, and you must think, bada bing bada boom! True love. Yes, he did think so. And somehow, she wished she had felt the same way.

"No," he would reply. If the God he was talking about was kind enough, He would offer him another chance at living, probably in a different condition, different time. But he would just shrug and suggest someone else to offer it to. He may be a ruthless person, a troublemaker even, but he wasn't dumb.

Yes, he was willing to die for her if the decision was up to him. But he could see it clearly in her eyes that she won't do the same thing. And if she won't, then what was the reason he would waste his life for a person who doesn't love him back? It was like waiting for a ship at the airport.

Hopeless and desperate.

--

"I knew it."

"I knew I would find you again, Byunghun," she smiled to herself as her feet dangled dangerously off the building's edge that fateful night. L.Joe closed his eyes as another gush of cold wind hit his face.

The name brought back hundreds of memories and emotions he had tried long and hard to forget. But of course, even as he called himself L.Joe now, peeling away the past together with his new name, to her he was still Byunghun.

"How'd you know it was me?" He closed the distance between them and sat beside her.

She breathed out deeply, her carbon dioxide coming out as mere steams of warm air. Her fingers reached out to the necklace around her neck, touching and feeling the rough texture of the silver pendant from the orphanage she was from.

He had the same one worn around his neck, together with the ring similar to the one on her finger. "How could you have gone here all alone? You could've been involved in a car accident," he scolded.

The girl had a faint smile painted on her lips. He still cared about her, even in the simplest of ways.

"I may be blind, but I'm not stupid," she replied.

Her fingers crept against the concrete edge, feeling for his hand. Oh how she longed for this day, to be reunited with Byunghun, or L.Joe, or whatever name he calls himself.

Just a few years ago, she was kneeling on a small area of fertile earth, cringing with each hit of stick as it made contact with her back, leaving red marks and bruises everywhere.

Her eyes stung from the tears that streamed down her cheeks. "So you two were planning to escape all along? It was just fortunate you couldn't see, or else you would have been on the train with Byunghun too!" the angry nun scolded like there was no tomorrow.

Up until now, she still blamed herself for being born that way when she could already be blessed with the sense of sight. And somehow, she thinks her disability is the reason why Byunghun had left the same orphanage they came from.

"And I know the reason why you're here," she added.

L.Joe smiled to himself. He knew it wouldn't be a problem when he saw her name on the Family's hit list, topping even the police and members who have broken the vow of silence.

"I want her done by tonight," the Don had especially ordered. She had always given him the initiative that she likes him, but he never felt the same way. To him, she was just a friend, an acquaintance even.

Before her, Chunji was functioning well, a trusted member of the Family. But lately, even though he never told anyone about it, everyone knew, even the Don, that he's meeting up with a girl, possibly his love interest. But they never showed a hint of conspiracy against Chunji. The mafia was like a thief at night, striking at the most unexpected moments.

"Really?" asked L.Joe, "Then why won't you finish my job for me?"

A tear escaped her eyes but her lips still held onto the smile. If she won't jump and kill herself, L.Joe cares about her too much to do it for her. And if he won't, he himself would suffer the consequences. At least, that's what SHE thought. And right then, she knew what she had to do. She stood up from where she had been sitting.

The cold wind blew her hair away from her face. From below, she might have looked like a ghost, a white silhouette against the dark evening sky. The building wasn't even a skyscraper, neither was it attractive to anyone in particular. The streets were crowded as usual, even at night. People went by with great repetition of routines.

But of course, as a broken, bloody, disfigured body lay in the middle of the streets, it surely caught their attention.

--

Chunji sat alone on the abandoned basketball court. He picked at the dried blood in between his fingernails and silently wished he hadn't looked for her at all.

It was better knowing someone had simply left, for ignorance is bliss. But to know that someone won't be back for an infinite period of time, it was excruciating and painfully heartbreaking.

He stood up and paced around, kicking angrily and stomping his feet at the puddle formed after the heavy downfall that lasted the whole night. Last night's events really hadn't been absorbed by his unforgiving mind.

He remembered how the look in her dead, wide open eyes had made him tingle inside. It was a horrific sight to see a dead person with her eyes open, more so if she was smiling, even in death.

Chunji looked like a madman as soon as he found her, slumping down on the concrete and carrying her lifeless body in his arms. He intertwined his fingers with hers, and only then did he realized that the ring he had given her was missing from its rightful place.

His mourning lasted for only a minute. The police siren rang in his ears and he quickly stood up to leave. Even if he did love her that much, he still can't afford to be put behind bars.

The possibility of the Family having caused her death entered his mind. And he quickly stormed to Grand Hyatt Seoul Hotel, where the Don and everyone else were.

He ignored the courteous receptionist down at the lobby who greeted him a good morning, and the hotel staff who offered him a glass of wine as soon as he walked through the doors of the luxurious hotel.

He hastily pressed the button for the particular floor and almost forced the shaft open when he reached his destination. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?" he shouted furiously as he advanced towards the Don. Of course, the elder members stopped him from doing so while the boss just smiled warmly at him. "To who?" he asked innocently.

"Nam Hae Rin. DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HER? WAS SHE ON THE HITLIST?" Chunji hissed with his fists clenched in fury.

"Nam Hae Rin...Nam...Hae...Rin...Ah!" the Don lifted his finger up to his chin as he racked his brain, "Nam Hae Rin. She's your little girlfriend, right?"

With his words and obvious sarcasm, Chunji's anger rose even more. His eyes searched for a familiar face belonging to the person who could understand him most. But L.Joe wasn't there.

"WHERE'S BYUNGHUN?" he growled through gritted teeth. The Don still had the smug smile plastered on his face as he fished his phone out and dialed the Consigliere's number.

"Yoboseyo?" L.Joe's throaty voice greeted him. "Ya, L.Joe. Chunji's right here. He wants to talk to you," he replied and hung up. He slumped more comfortably in his seat.

After minutes that seemed to tick like hours, Byunghun finally arrived. "What?" he stared straight to Chunji's tear-stricken face. His heart clenched at seeing him cry, but the sadness would soon pass. "Did you know about her?" he asked with a hint of anger and accusation. "The girl who jumped off the building last night?" he asked back, his eyes widening to add innocence to his act.

"How did you know?" Chunji demanded suspiciously.

"It was all over the news. What are you so angry about?"

"YOU KILLED HER! DON'T ACT LIKE YOU NEVER DID ANYTHING WRONG!" he shouted while his finger pointed to random directions. When no one responded, he fell down on the carpeted floor and sobbed.

"She was the only girl I loved," he cried, his voice had a thick edge of regret and pain. L.Joe remained frozen on where he was. He slid his hand inside his jeans pocket and wrapped his fingers around the ring.

"That's why you shouldn't love. Attachment to other people never brought anything but imaginary slaps in the face. If we had known you had a girlfriend, then you should have been killed too. But whatever reason that girl has to kill herself, at least you've had your fill of her in many ways possible while you sneak behind my back," the Don lit up his cigar and puffed out a dark cloud of smoke. Byunghun paced a few steps and ended beside the mafia boss.

"What are you planning to do now?" he asked.

Chunji stood up and dusted his clothes off of the dirt that clung to the fabric. He wiped the tears from his eyes and headed to the door. "You forgot this," L.Joe reminded and lifted the ring up to eye level.

Chunji was about to ask where he had found the ring, the ring he had given the girl he had loved, but he swallowed the words and sentences forming in his throat, exiting the room in long strides.

The Don took another huff of tobacco and breathed in deeply. "She didn't really commit suicide, did she?"

"She took her time too long," L.Joe replied, making the head of the Family smile.

Lealtà. Fiducia. Fratellanza.

Loyalty, trust, and brotherhood -- those three Italian words made more sense now. Though Byunghun, or L.Joe, or whatever way he liked to be called, had already broken fiducia or trust, at least he had held onto the other two, and maybe he could add one more. Amore. Love.

Where Chunji had gone, he had no way of knowing, in the same way that Chunji hadn't the slightest idea that L.Joe himself had pushed the girl off of the building. But wherever he went, he would always end up at the mafia's doorstep.

And by that time, hopefully...hopefully, Chunji would soon realize that L.Joe is the only person that could give him the love he needs most...the love that could kill...the love that could fight.

~Sorry for the late update. I know it's only a oneshot but I really worked hard for it, so I hope you enjoy this short story. If you subscribed because you expected , sorry for the trouble. But anyway, thank you ☺