This story is about a writer named -
Ah, no, this is not a story. This is only a copy. A translation, which is done by a writer who got demoted to being a clerk . If he could choose , even if he can't be the one who creat the story, he wanted to be an editor, rather than being just a clerk, who can only comment for the story. Without changing any of the written.

Well, it's about me. Kim Jongdae. Or Chen. Chen is more easily recognized. Of course, Chen has craved his name on a lot of  people's treasure papers called books. So we are talking only about Chen. All right, we 'll talk about KimJongdae too-- bit .

Like a writer, most of my time I spent in the alternate world that I can control. I change a few things in it. Make it happier. Or vice versa. It was very fun. When looking at the same object with other people. But I have a different storyline for it. I do it every time. I refuse to follow the storyline that was given to me. Of course! God is very picky. I guess maybe he hates me.

People say, there are only two types of writers. A very wise man who writes literature and those poems and much wise quotes. And the other, someone who is half mad who writes fiction and fairy tales. Maybe it's true?. But for me, a writer is someone who is never satisfied. A coward. A braggar . And one who likes to escape. All author creates his own world, because they can't do all that great things in the real world. Right?. No? Well, at least, I am that kind of writer. Those papers are my other half. My escape. Chen— is a king.

Yeah, I'm rather a quiet, powerful king or— a noisy, lonely fool. There's nothing in between. So, it’s only natural, people around me defided into two too. There's high classes, professionals and dreamers whom Chen's own. And there's few innocents, crazy and overly kind people that sympathetically looks at Jongdae. Until then, there’re just two people who can comunicate to both Chen and Jongdae, they are Lee JinKi, my editor. Of course he must be able to communicate to me. It’s his job. And another one is Kim Joonmyeon, my unrequited love. Who unconditionally able to communicate with both of me. He got my heart. The only hope for me. A hope to be loved. A real love. Not an imaginary love Chen can creat nor a fake love Jongdae jokes.

It’s a clear line between me and another me. Maybe I sound crazy. But no! I’m not crazy. Like other people who go to mountain for just screaming their lungs out. Or just like people who have a secret room for them to crying unnoticed. It’s an escape. Just, in my case, those escape is in me. Myself. How cool is that? Huh?.

Yeah, it’s cool until then. Until my stupid heart carelessly stepped in. My heart isn’t as experienced as my mind to face the world. So it’s  happened.

Three months ago ...

The sky's very dark.Well, the sky should be very dark. It’s midnight afterall. But not when it was. The sky was bright with fake lights. Reflected bulb's light incandescent selfishly. Insulting what should be a quiet night. Dark and quiet. The dark was stolen by those fake lights. The silent also been robbed by the noises of the night dwellers. People who turn their time upside down. Turned night into day and they eliminate the night. It's like not fair! Stifling! Like a taunt. The night sky which no longer graceful, now decorated by the glamorous fireworks which fly off flashing and noisy. As if mocking me, roar of cheering people who greeted the new year, blaring from the bottom of where I tried to run away. Highest place I can accomplish. The closest place to heaven that my foot could reach. Trying to oscillating with my own self. Trying to forget. Trying not to condemn this heart. Yes, I just let my heart broken.

"Can I just take a break from life?!" I whispered a petulant to the moon, which was unwilling to appear in the night sky anymore.

"No!" Calmly replied by the voice from behind. And of course it's not the voice of the moon. God, If you're there, please stop make fun of me. I'm not in a mood to any company "If you rest, you're dead!" that voice doesn't stop. Doesn’t let me alone. Like if he doesn’t understand my indifferent action. "Jeonmyeon's left" he said flatly. Standing next to me then turned to face me.

I turned to face him. In my head was buzzing profanity, anger and disappointment that I might shout at his face. But it turns out, all that come to my sense is a name I just heared. A name that adored all my alternate world. A name which the source of all those pretty words I arranged on those papers. A name which unconditionaly break my heart. Just like that, hot tears sting out from the corner of my eyes. I am a broken heart. I can't see the figure in front of me. because when one drop of my tears fell, it's just a reflex to burying my face in my palms. Hide it from the world. He didn't pat my shoulders. He didn’t my back. He didn’t hug me. He didn’t give me reasured words. He's just there. 30-cm standing in front of me. Silently.

Somehow. Night became quiet again, letting my sobs echoed in my ears. The night became dark again, letting my tears fell embarrassingly. The Night became calm again. Like anomalies delibered by strains of breath from a silent one in front of me. He was just standing there, silent. Accompany me.

 

---

" What ? You're drunk ! Passed out ! And vomit on my shirt ! . I'm here to ask for compensation ! "  He stood at the front door of my house.

---

" You still have not given me compensation ! " He looked at my whole house with disgust.

---

" I came home from work too late ! It was not safe to go home . And my house is too far away . I'm staying here ! " As if he is used . In casual, he uses my bathroom .

---

" I'm bored . There's nothing more I can do . Not in the office . Not at my place . So I'm here - where always provide tasks to do ! " He started touching my stuff . Arrange them neatly .

---

" Is it that hard to move on? " he said. Then soothe my editor , who’s frustrating because there's no new story from me .

---

Yeah . My meeting with this person was just unclear like that. Since three months ago . Since the incident . He always came up with random reasons. This guy . This strange guy, made ​​my visit to my alternate world , much reduced. It was pretty disturbing . Or not?.

I just realized. Now , he also one of the people who have met Chen and Jongdae. Well , 2 days ago it just hit me.

That day , the sky more gray than usual . There. At the point when I accidentally forgot the keys to my alternate world. When my story collided with the God’s stories called fate. I couldn’t escape. I can’t be anybody. The king almost lost his power. The fool can’t find the joke in his stories . When the heart is made ​​aware that the main actor in Chen’s kingdom, the favorite audience in Jongdae’s performances. Can no longer be there for me. Because he fell in love with the perfect creature there. Not me. The day were long and lonelier than before. I'm stuck. Too messed up to be a king . Too silent to be a fool.

Sound of rain is so rowdy. Knocking the large glass window in front of me violentl . As if trying to penetrate it and slapped me. The wind had already slashed my skin, aligning it with my coolded heart The books were scattered , thrown together with anger . Vase that has been destroyed collided with hardwood floors , letting the flowers that come in a scattered along the broken . My feet hurt , bleeding , no pain . Droop my back leaning against the wall give the dumb white .
I was desperate . I am . My heart . I live for my heart . Despair .
I who longed for someone , now so expecting anyone . Anyone .
I'm even willing to do anything even though it goes against my logic . For someone who is not really how I expected . And still be cast . I realized , that I was desperate .
Then he came with dranched shirt. I was too tired to care . I'm waiting , waiting to hear his made-up reason. Hope , maybe it will mess up my train of broken thoughts. But it never came . Instead –

Cold wet lips touched my lips. No, he didn’t touch me. Only his lips caressing mine. Then those fox like eyes staring at me. My eyes. Before they closed, and then his cherry lips started dancing on my lips. Join my eyes closed , like a copycat . Our lips danced together. Like a pair of dencers in a slow melody.

Suddenly . The sound of rain calmed down. Soothing . The wind turned into gentle breezes. Suddenly the voices in my head stopped. Silent.
 

 

---

So, I’ll tell you, how stupid the plot God gives me. And a new character he gives me. And He makes me become a stupid character. In this what so called fate book.

This morning—

White wooden floor still feels damp cold when I stepped on with my bare injured feet. My leg crouched a bit when I was down the stairs which is colder because it is made of glass.

"Good morning!" a voice that now is familiar and less annoying in my ears. There is no time to replay the greeting from the red velvet chair on the other side. I'm in that mood. That mood to enter my other world. I don't have time to realize that my bookshelves is too neat. To busy to realize that my dining room become too spaceouse with all the tidyness. Complete opposite with a mess two days ago.
I threw out a few books and papers which according to my view, was blocking, because as far as I can remember, I put my ipad on the shelf which now occupied with those neatly arranged books and papers. Yes, I put it on the shelf. But I can't find it. I threw out some books and small ornaments in the corner of the white shelf.

"What are you looking for?" The voice's source still there from my red velvet chair on the other side.

"I-pad" I replied curtly. Still busy with my memory that I'm sure if the object was saved here.

"on the end table!" He said relaxed. I could hear him murmuring "who would put an i-pad on the bookshelf?" Before the corner of my eye I saw him drinking his coffee from a white mug.
He's right. There is my white i-pad, lying next to a cup of newly made coffee, judging from small fumes comes from it.

 
Then he came. With his milky white hand patted the later’s shoulder. He put the broken heart into a gentle hug. Soothing smooth fragrant of his warm body. His lips were pink pout looks like a cherry in the bottom of a crystal glass of vodka. His sharp small foxy eyes , focusing like putting all of the world he saw into symmetrical order. His busy hands tidying strewn papers ----

This isn't works. since when he bullies my imagination?. Why my perfect story’s character become him instead ?. why I write him?.

 
I just need to close my eyes tightly. Try to get back the figure of the perfect who should have god gave to me. I stretched my legs and nudged a few stacks of books, tear down that little pile.

"Why are you this ignorance?" I try to ignore it. "Isn’t that easy to put back what you’ve messed, put them back to where it should be?" Perhaps, he is the only one who can sulking with such a calm tone. His short fingers began to pick up some spilling papers, the scattered books on the floor and neatly arrange it back in place. Before then switch to stack up some books that had just torn down by my feet.

So fun. Pleasing to the sight of this scene. The scene where those small figure busying himself with all the mess.

This is just a desire. Just a fun fad. I nudge a little yellow mug on the counter next to me. Made a little noise when it collided with a glass vase, some of the warm coffee spilled onto a blue notebook beside the phone. From my glance, I could see his head turned looking towards scowled mess I just made. He made a small sigh. Set the stack of books in his hands in a hurry. And started to walk toward me. or I say, towards the new chaos.

I leave my lounger a step, before he reached his purpose.  I-pad still on me. But the mood ' s gone. This is more fun. I need my morning orange juice. He even does not know, if I prefer a taste of fresh acid in my morning rather than strong scented coffee. Too hazle for me. To put the orange juice back into the refrigerator or put the glass to sink. It’s just- oh, well~ ain’t nobody have time for that?.

Where is he?. I didn't see his small figure when I turned ignore the i-pad and the juice. He isn't in my vision range. Coffee spill still not back to a presentable state. His white mug was still on the coffee table next to the Red Velvet chair. Why do I feel disappointed?. His luxury cars is still visible behind the white wooden window on my other side. I'm still busy with my heart that strangely feeling disappointed and longed. Where is he?

 

My body tensed up a bit when his calm overtone footstep down the glass stairs. Two pieces of fabrics in his hands. A fabric that I know is a sweater, thrown onto my face before he started sweeping the black liquid spills with small duster  in his other hand. "This is winter," he said without looking at me. His hand was still busy setting everything back to perfect. Or to keep everything symmetric and edgy. Or I say, He make it all becomes the same as his neatly organized world.

 

“are you not going to wear it? and being foolish like you already are then continue to just wear a thin shirt on in February?” His mocking voice is the only thing that I realized meant to me and the sweater in my hand. I myself can’t understand why am I so obedient? And just slip the sweater onto my body. I’m not that quiet when being mocked.

I could have sworn that those smile on my face, wasn’t from my brain’s command to appear on my face as I watch him began to sulking . I can’t listen to all of his sulks. Just  few sentences muffled into my ears. I could hear the "how can you live with all this mess?" And "no one is more careless than this person".

 

After a while, some things I could know of this person is, he's a cleanfreak. Proud of himself who is always neatly organized. Get irritated towards slightest mess. He even get irritated if books doesn’t stacked stright or just slightly tilted. It just makes me want to fight his weird of cleanness. I’m not this slob actually.

 

"- Why do I always have to clean up your mess?" He looked at me.

 

“well, no one ask you!” my typical answer though. I guess he didn't get the response he expected. When he immediately turned his way past me and continue throwing soiled duster into the laundry basket.
"I thought you like to clear up after my mess?" Yeah, right. I thought tidying up is his hobby. I thought that he likes to clean up anything that looks chaotic. I just got a garle than he who was washing his hands. The clack and clinck sounds from the wet glass, the sounds of papers rustling, thw thud of book stacked. The sounds he produce when he doing his things without voices anything. They sounds—calming. My house isn’t usually this calm. Even when I held my breath.

 

 And hey—I think I know it. Somehow, is  he the one who bring this calmness?

"Xiumin-sshi" I never got a response. "Minseokkie ~!" What the hell are you doing Jongdae? You just use aegyo voice. I shudder, shocked with what I just did. The contrary of me who surprised with my ownself. A person who were ignoring me, just pushed me aside calmly then toke a bottle of orange juice on my back. Thin lemon mint fragrance poked my nose when his hairs was just a few centimeters from my nose.

"Let's live together?!" I - did - not know anything! I did not know what I just said!. Maybe it's just a voice in my mind. But apparently not. That's the sound of my mouth. It seems. Judging that the other person in this room’s freez in his place. His hand still holding the bottle of juice while his other hand holds the handle of the refrigerator door. His eyes widened, looking at me in disbelieve. Trust me Xiumin-sshi, I also don’t know what the hell am I doing!.

 
"Why should I?" I didn’t get an answer. Of course. A person who is composed like him, would easily stabilized than anyone else.

"Because you're going to clear up all my mess!" Never mind. I do not know anymore. I do not know anymore who controls the voice and the words that came out of my mouth in this time.
 

"Tch! Rent a buttler then! " he said. Glared at me. He busied himself washing a dirty juice glass.
 

"No~ no  ~" that horrible sound again. Then my body started moving on its own. My chin pressed over his left shoulder. "Greatest buttler wouldn’t be able to do what you do!"

"You just want free buttler then!" His mocking words. All his logical answer. I guess, it makes me want to fight him with nonsense. Or can you say, the voice in my head that began to take over and weave the answers to counter that logic.

"Haha-" yes, maybe it's true. "No, any buttlers . No one. They can’t tidy up my messy heart, like you did ~ " who said that cheesy novel’s words?. Me? My heart?. Hey remember Jongdae! Remember when did you last let your heart interfere?. Remember how it cause the pain, Chen?.

"Wow, it's a hard work! What if I still don’t want to? " Of course he would!.

"I pay a lot! How about a like? Wholehearted liking! Really like!? " Nonsense.

"Hmph!" He roled his eyes, release himself. Facing me.

"All right! How about a hug? Lots of hugs every day! Plus a kiss! " I know he’ll like it. He kissed me long yesterday night.

"You sure, it’s not you who wants that?” I saw a smirk on his face. . I thought it was because he might right?.

"All right! How many kisses a day? How many hugs a day? How many lovely words a day? dealer master?! " Why am I so persistent like this?

"I'm used to doing business mr poet!" he said in half- whisper. Stepped up shorten our distance. "There is no deal if I don’t get what I want!" He looked at me.

"Okay okay! This bold decision that I take! Very high bid! What if my heart?! Whole" you're dead Kim Jongdae. You'll be miserable again Chen. I sang a warning song to myself.

"Hmph. Are you sure? You gave me those heart?! The one that I had just tided up? " Probably yes. Perhaps it is you who tidied up my messy heart.

His lips was warm when it was brushed on my lips. I guess, I just can’t think anout anything, or just—what they call it? Blank.

"It's not enough!"

"What?"

"What if I want more than that? How about you?! You! I want you! "

"It's-"

"When I said, you. It is you by all mean”. His lips gently brushed my lips. Again. "Your heart" it tasted sweet. "Your time"  caffeine fragrant began to spread in my mouth. "Your life" he whispered between kisses. "your time". His tounge roamed my entire mouth "even the alternative world of yours" a bite "all of you!".

"Such a greedy person-" I still couldn’t recall what was happening.
 

"A deal?"

"As long as you give me the warranty. There will not be any mess in my life! "

"Contract sealed!" he gave me a peck. "Okay, now! I think I want a room in the right corner of the second floor! Maybe my stuff will be up tonight. If I call the moving company now". He stepped away from me. Then checked his rolex on his left wrist.

"Huh? No! You have to stay with me! it includes sleep beside me!" this is sound so wrong tough.

"I still need that room!" He said as smoothed his silver shirt "I need a room for me to work! One room that is symmetrical and in spite of all megical things that surrounds you!" He took the car keys from a small table near the door "and oh! I already cleared the place for me to sleep! Do not mess it again!"

"Where are you going?"
 

"Off! To take care of my handsome models! Bye ~! "
 

"Yah!"
 

From my wooden window, I could see his black luxury car. Went away and disappear. I still can not actually aware of what had just happened. Well ---
I just invite him to live together! I just ask an unknown person to live together!
All right, calm down. Kim Jongde, quiet!.

It's a rather large mess I've just gotten into.

Okay let’s review it again. He is the owner of big fashion store with his own label: Xiumin. He is Minseok, Suho’s cousin. He is the boss and best friend of supermodel Kris. He's a cleanfreak. We first met when New Year's Eve. He who comes to the roof of the building and watch me heartbroken. After that, he always comes to my house with logical reasons, but unreasonable. He never asked anything about my life. He’s just : Makes coffee. Watches me working, in silence. Watches me reading, in silence. And clean up everything. He's really like a buttler. A chuckle out of my mouth. yeah, maybe I was just wanting free a buttler?

Because he never touched me. Well, he kissed me. but his hands never touch me. I never touched him, too. Why did he never touched me?.

Yes! Kim Jongdae. You're crazy! Well, thanks to Kim Minseok or Mr. Xiumin that have made me crazy. Now, not only my heart that stupid, my brain also become stupid. Now I'm thinking like a ert who wants to touch and be touched. This sounds wrong from various aspects. But the kiss was nice. The cafein fragrance isn’t that bed. The red and warm. The soft and –

 
Well, anyone. Please tell me  how to slap a heart!. This is not the first time I liked someone with this careless heart. But it's the first time I want to slap this hart. Why this heart feels so weird now. Pounding like a teenage girl who will meet their idol. Seriously! I started to play with this heart. It may be a mess again.

 
The first time I noticed when I opened my bedroom is my bed’s neat. I knew it. He must take care of this when he took my sweater. But there’s a little different. I try to remind my lungs how to breathe. When I saw the usual three pillows stacked on the left side of the bed, where I used to sleep. Now divided. A pillow that has been developed lying on the right side of the bed. That new builded  side is too neat compared to other parts of the room.
"And oh! I already cleared the place I sleep! Do not mess it again! "
 

"How can this be?"

It's like, god gave cheat sheet to him. A cheat sheet, which contains all of the way, how to make me be myself, when with him. All time list, when I was lost, so he can come. All to do list, to make me annoyed yet can’t without him.

Because now, my heart’s starting to itches. I need him. I need him to make it stop. I need those calmnass again. Ineed him, my new escape.

Maybe. Just maybe, if this new character, which God created to be included in the story of my life. I might be a little interested and would like to play a role in His plot.

 

 

 

Oh, all right God. I'm going to sign-up for your thine bizarre plot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

as it stated.

this isn't a story.

this is just an interlude actually. an interlude for my series.

an interlude that somehow came out first. -___-

 

please forgive everything I did in this.

so, I said this again. English isn't my main language. I still learn it.

it's late if I warn you now rite? but, yeah.

warning : this may cause you some headeach.

sorry~

 

 

hope you enjoy your time~