To Make One Cry
Description
Jung Yonghwa has no other purpose in his life than to make others cry. At least, that's what he aims to do with his work. Being a college dropout who lives in an apartment located near a dump isn't exactly ideal for an aspiring musician, but Yonghwa learns to makeshift with it. As strange as it seems and sounds, the only thing he wants to do to those who listens to his music is make them cry. His purpose takes a different turn when he meets someone who cries for something else other than his music. Oddly enough, he doesn't want that person to cry.
A/N: This is my first attempt at a light fluffy and tragic sort of story. This story was inspired (the emotions at least) by the famous stories "Absolute Chanyeol" and "Be Human." Maybe I shouldn't have read both of the stories in one go....But thanks to them, this is born. Frankly, I'm not any good at interesting descriptions and the idea of this story is sort of...odd in a way but I hope you can still enjoy it. And yes, please do. Like Yonghwa, my purpose in [this story] is to make you cry.
Foreword
Excerpt
As he sings softly in the cafe, following along with the rhythm of his audience's clapping, he mentally curses at the smiles that he sees. His eyes desperately scans the crowd to find just one, at least one, person who was emotionally overwhelmed by his music. Disappointed at yet another failure, the strumming on his guitar comes to a remorseful stop, timing perfectly with the ending of his song. He stands up and bows politely with an equally respectful smile. He leaves the stage with a guitar in one hand and the other a clenched fist. He briefly passes by a deserted corner of a cafe as he exits when he hears the quiet and gentle sniffling of a woman. Yonghwa rapidly blinks in excitement, the thought of the reason for her crying might be him makes him giddy with happiness. He slowly shifts his view over to the woman, her long locks of hair covering her face, and opens his mouth uselessly. The words that are dying to spew from his mouth failed to process in his brain, so he his lips nervously. He thanks himself for functioning correctly when he hears himself speak.
"Excuse me, miss?" Though quite short a sentence, he was grateful to himself nevertheless. The woman gently brushed the hair from her face as she turned around to face him. Honestly, he was surprised he could even form coherent words after that one breath-taking moment.
"Yes?" She spoke demurely. He didn't notice it, but a flash of recognition lighted up in her eyes. He was already lost in the beauty of her relentlessly falling tears and her herself. "Excuse me for asking, but are you the one who just performed?"
"Yes. Yes I am."
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