The tie that started like a fate,

The truth that is bigger than imagination

===

Always stay this way,

It’s right here, something that deeper than words

===

            A young man, 27 years old, a novelist. Many people said that he’s genius, he’s the fallen angel that formed into human. Every word in his writing brought many feelings towards its readers. He’s labelled as the best novelist that ever exist in Korea.

            ”You are really have so many free time, Writer Jang. Even in this time, you choose to knock your finger on that innocent window than sat in front of your laptop and write down your next chapter.”

            The man who called as Writer Jang stopped his knocking activity, turned around just to find his director’s stupid face five steps away from his place. ”I’ve already sent my draft to your e-mail,” Writer Jang said in monotone voice, then turned back his attention towards the scenery outside of his workroom through the window.

            ”Geurae?” The director seemed lost in words while his finger busily tapped his smartphone’s screen. He became silent for several minutes as his eyes scanned what he’s found in his smartphone, precisely in his e-mail. His orbs moved from left to the right then got bigger as saucer when he read at the right corner of his writer’s draft, the word of “fin” typed on it. ”Ya… Writer Jang, what’s… what’s this meaning? You… you just ended this story?!” The director asked in disbelief.

            The writer didn’t answer that question immediately. It took several minutes for the writer to arrange the words of his answer. ”As I remembered it well, I have informed you before,” He paused. ”That I want to end it,” He continued. ”Also, I have no longer idea and interest to continue it.”

            ”Writer Jang,” The director called him in defeated tone. ”You know what kind of thing I hate from you?”

            Writer Jang didn’t reply.

            ”Your story ending! You always leave your ending in cliffhanger, you make your readers guess what kind of ending in your stories. But, do you know what kind of thing I hate from you the most?”

            Writer Jang didn’t respond it. Again.

            ”Even you create that kind of ending, you never miss to get the jackpot! Hahahaha…”

            Writer Jang closed his eyes briefly as his silent sigh escaped from his lips. His “crazy” director is really something.

            ”Hahaha… ah cham, I have told Chief Kim to post it on our latest page. Today, this one will be all-killed! Writer Jang, don’t turn off your phone, arasso? We will have a party tonight,” said the director as he left the writer’s workroom.

            ”Finally…” The writer hissed as he couldn’t hear his director’s foot step. He stood alone, in that modest workroom. Filled with shelves full of many kind of books. A pair of table and chair colored in black. Two big windows with cream colored curtains. Pile of white paper’s draft laid neatly on his table, near his laptop. His tall figure didn’t move in inch. He seemed deep in his own mind. He closed both of his eyes.

===

The distant sky, the infinite time,

now they pray to those stars that scattered around (the sky)

===

            ”In our next life, I won’t let go of you. I promise. So, let’s meet again, in our next life.”

            She stopped her paintbrush scrabbled many colors on the white canvas. She put back the paintbrush on the small table stood beside her. Yesterday night, she has a mysterious dream. It was feel so true to be called a dream.

            ”You make another painting, Shin Hye-ssi?”

            The young woman called Shin Hye didn’t turn her head just to face the owner of that voice. She knew it well, it’s her manager.

            ”I just feel bored, Manager Han. How’s the preparation of my next exhibition?” Shin Hye asked the manager while her hand picked the paintbrush up then scrabbled again on the canvas.

            ”Don’t worry, Shin Hye-ssi. We have finished all, even the slightest things.”

            Shin Hye nodded her head, focused her attention on her painting.

            ”Also, I have something good to you Shin Hye-ssi,” Manager Han said with a smile.

            ”What is it?”

            ”About the novel signing at your gallery, Writer Jang has agreed to it. His agency will give us . . .”

            ”Really?” Shin Hye couldn’t hold her happiness as she stood immediately. ”Finally…” She didn’t know how express her happiness as she hug her manager tightly.

===

            Writer Jang read his schedule in lazy mode as his eyes scanned one by one then caught something.

            ”Secretary Song, as I remembered it well I never agreed to hold a novel signing in that gallery,” Writer Jang said firmly as he pointed his unplanned schedule to be toward his secretary. ”Why it’s include in my schedule this week?”

            ”Ah… it… it was…”

            Director Ahn who sat beside Secretary Song beat the table hard to gain the writer’s attention, and it’s succeed. ”Writer Jang. Why are you refuse that offer, huh? You know, that young beautiful painter, Park Shin Hye, she’s so famous because of all of her amazing paintings. She’s one of the best in our country, also she’s one of your fans. It will be your first big event after come back to Korea, Writer Jang,” Director Ahn explained.

            Writer Jang put back his schedule paper on his table, leaned his back on his chair then crossed his hands against his chest. His sharp gaze behind his circle framed eyeglasses which is stood still above his pointed nose made his secretary trembled a bit, even she has experienced it many time before. So contrast with Director Ahn who stared back at the writer with his own version of sharp gaze.

            ”Geurae, the only one thing you should do is just gained money as much as you could, Hyung. I will do what you want, but this time, just once. I will no longer hold a novel signing at her gallery.”

            With that statement, the writer left the living room, left the director and the secretary looked at each other, dumbfounded.

            ”What’s wrong with him?” Director Ahn asked Secretary Song several minutes after made sure that the writer already disappeared from their sight.

            ”I don’t know,” Secretary Song responded shortly.

            While inside his private room aka his workroom, Writer Jang sighed heavily. He walked towards the table which is stood steadily at the center of that room. His hand pulled the drawer behind that table, took a small black box from inside it, then pushed the drawer back just like its previous place. He opened the black box, his finger touched the cigarettes that lined up neatly then took one of it, put it in between his lips. While his left hand closed the black box, his right hand took the match from his jacket pocket, burned the edge of the cigarette. A vague fume formed and several minutes later thick fumes spread out around him, filled that silent room.

            ”Just thinking about holding a novel signing at her gallery made me so stressful,” He muttered as he pulled the chair beside the table then sit on it. Another vague fume created as he breathed out. His eyes got closed when suddenly his phone rang. His lazy hand reached out his phone on the table and his eyes swiftly read the caller ID. Jongsuk. Soon, his finger pressed the answer button.

            ”Hi bro! It’s been so long. I miss you.” Writer Jang could heard his old friend’s voice.

            ”Mwoya?” He asked shortly, put the cigarette on the astray near his piles of white papers on the table.

            ”Chill out, Bro! I just want to greet you,” the caller paused for several seconds, then he continued. ”Come to my party. I know that I have made a big mistake by invited you in the social event like this but, many of our old friends wanted to see you tonight, so…”

            ”I won’t come,” Writer Jang cut his friend’s sentence without a change on his facial features. Through his phone, he could heard his friend chuckled for a while.

            ”I knew you will say that, Writer Jang. Then, I have no other way but to drag you out from your study, I guess?” Writer Jang didn’t say a word, but the next his friend’s word surprised him to the death. ”Even you’re still like to smoke, Keun Seok-ah.”

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