That weekend Daehyun finds himself at the museum. He decides his project is going to be on Youngjae. He sits at a bench with a notebook in hand, staring at him. He doesn’t nowhere to start, knows nothing about Yoo Youngjae. He’s tapping his pen and chewing on his bottom lip. It shouldn’t be this hard, writing and whatnot.

So he stares. He stares at Yoo Youngjae’s unreal figure. His milky white skin shinning under a ceiling lamp above his body, smooth chocolate eyes sparkling with questionable life, lips that sing a soundless tune. Daehyun wonders how something could truly be so perfect.

“Can I help you sir?” Daehyun looks up, startled. A middle aged man with his hands clasped behind his back stands above him.

“What?” is all that comes out of his mouth. The man just smiles and tilts his head to the far right corner. Daehyun knows he’s looking at Yoo Youngjae, so he bows his head and continues tapping his pen.

“You were here just a few days ago, right? Big class project going on right?” the man’s still staring at Youngjae, smile still intact. Daehyun shifts the notebook in his lap and nods. “Yeah.”

“Hmm…Come.” The man snaps his finger and sways his way out the room. Daehyun blinks before shuffling to catch up with the man. The older man leads him to what he guesses is the back of the building. There are rows of shelves filled with books and boxes.

“Dude what is this?” Daehyun says as he runs his fingers over books. The man stops and raises an eyebrow at him.

“Dude,” Daehyun shrugs. “This is where we keep the figurine’s profiles.”

“Profiles?” he asks.

“Every doll has its own story. The models are coordinated by year of their birth, so help yourself.” The man smiles and leaves Daehyun alone. He waits until he hears the door shut before looking for the year 1969. It isn’t long before he finds a storage box labeled ‘Yoo Youngjae’. Daehyun clutches the box as he makes his way back to the bench.

Lifting the lid up, the first thing on top was a paper notifying that everything in the box must be returned and either lost, stolen, or damaged will pay the fine. Daehyun nods and takes everything out. He furrows his eyebrows. Journal after journal he notes. All that seemed to be in the box were leather covered journals.

Was he even allowed to look in these? Would he be fined for looking through something so personal? He stops and looks around, mainly for cameras. But to his surprise there aren’t any. Chewing on his bottom lip Daehyun opens up the journal and begins scanning over it.

He doesn’t realize the time and how long he’s been there. Because none of that matters as he flips through old photos of Yoo Youngjae. He’s already finished reading through all of Yoo Youngjae’s journals. He’s basically covered his whole life up until his death.

Yoo Youngjae was an upcoming Broadway singer. He was finally getting his big break staring in a musical in America. His only transportation, a train. Something had gone wrong and fire started, leading to an explosion. It’s tragic really, he was young and said to have an older brother, but there’s no information about his whereabouts.

Daehyun shoots up as he hears a clinking sound. He panics and checks the time, 7:45. He’s not sure when the museum closes but decides maybe it’s time he heads out.  As he stacks the journals back in neatly another clinking sound is heard. Daehyun tries to brush it off as maybe that man is doing something or maybe even a janitor.

He clutches the doorknob leading to the backroom, but it won’t open. It’s locked, he sighs and places the box on the front desk, but the man is nowhere to be found. Probably in the back, Daehyun thought. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and starts towards the front door. Placing his palms on the door Daehyun pushes forward. But the door makes no movement. He tries again and still it doesn’t open.

“It’s locked.”