BOOK 2 of 'Bubblegum Gucci Punk & Gangster Model Hunk'
•Be it night or be it day, the voices in his head, always mange to stay•
Ex-underground fighter and overnight sensational idol Park Dae Ho, dropped out of sight, making the people of South Korea...
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The corridor is lit with golden LED lights like a pathway leading to a dinner date. Wooden consoles arranged in a stairway pattern hold a few books and delicate decor pieces on the right with a peg for hanging coats and a large shoe cabinet opposite to it. Lavender and a tint of cherry blossoms and citrus, just enough to tickles one's senses disperse around the area.
Haneul guides Dae Ho to the living room, gesturing him to sit on the grey modular sofa. The space is styled in modern design, minimal but high-end and chic. A large home cinema stands accost at the front, glass centerpiece parallel to it, placed on a zebra print rug. Dae Ho sinks into the couch, neck resting on the back and eyes straining at the black, metal caged chandeliers above him.
"What...what did you mean last night?" Haneul inquires, taking a seat not far from the other.
Dae Ho sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Remember the car chase we had?"
The doctor nods slowly with a pensive face. "Is he—"
"He's alive," Dae Ho cuts in before Haneul can form any assumptions. "He's been confined since that day. Vee is a tough one, all this time he's been waiting for a signal. We received a note, it said, 'you save some, you lose some'. And you didn't pick up Yoon's call so I had to run to make sure you and Soomin were safe."
"You should rest assured since all's well now. There isn't any reason for you to stay here and check on us. And that note doesn't point to us. You and I don't share any sort of relationship anymore."
Dae Ho bites his tongue, an icky taste glazing his senses. Intentional or not, he'd like to rebut Haneul's statement but he needs to compose himself. He couldn't lose his cool and cause a scene, igniting the already raging hostility the doctor has for him at the moment. "I...I know. But just in case, I want to be here. You can take Soomin and sleep in your room together and even lock it."
Haneul doesn't reply, pressing his lips into a thin line. He stands up, rubbing his eyes and adjusting his shirt. "There's a guest room at the right corner after the corridor. Just sleep there." But before he could leave, he's pulled back.
"Here." Dae Ho grabs the doctor's hand and places an object in his palm, this calloused fingers closing the doctor's around it.
His eyes widen, frantic movements displaying his panic. "W-what is this?"
"A proof that I don't have any wrong intentions. You can use it for self-defense if I do anything suspicious."
"B-but—this is a gun!"
Being around each other has become a cluster of messy emotions and actions. One moment it's as if diving into the past and being comfortable, and the other times being apprehensive and acrimonious. The sole mistake of shooting a man in front of Haneul may cause Dae Ho a lifetime friendship but it's alright. Even if it isn't, there's nothing he can do to indemnify for what he's done. Every action bears consequences and accepting this is his. He'll one day come to eventually acknowledge it just like he'd driven himself away from Haneul's life years ago. Or it could pile up on the never-ending doom of regrets he has, but it didn't matter anymore. The voices in his head would accompany him.
