𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐔𝐒 • SeongSang

TWO.

According to Seonghwa, Jung Wooyoung was too obnoxious to describe in words. He always told his wife that you actually had to see him to understand. The older liked to say that his hair was like a clump of outdated butter that had been splashed on his head, sometimes he'd jokingly add that Wooyoung was the trash can. Further on, he always thought that his voice sounded like that old squeaky couch that he'd thrown away a few years. And despite all the hatred that revolved around the two, as much as he hated it, Seonghwa could never deny the fact that Jung Wooyoung was the only reason why he was making a living right now. 

''Park, what an honour to meet you again!'' 
The high pitched voice, wide smile and moon shaped eyes wanted to make him gag. His arms stood wide open ready for a tight embrace and Seonghwa was convinced by now that he really wouldn't have minded eating those socks he told his wife about earlier instead of this. 
''Likewise, Jung.'' Seonghwa tried to smile before feeling the younger's arms wrapping around him. The latter gasped feeling his airways getting smaller as the hug got tigher and he swore that his partner was doing this on purpose. A stranger who was passing by, probably would've though that the two were just two old friends who hadn't seen each other in a while.

But the two knew better. They clashed together like two hard bricks, those one's where you'd always burn your feet on in Summer. Their game was sly and nasty, the two were always competing, whether it was about getting the most beautiful girl or best job. One of them had to be better than the other. 

''Tonight, we'll be watching a classic ballet show!  I have V.I.P tickets so we'll be sitting at the best sight.''
''Wow, I can't believe you'd do all of that for me.'' Seonghwa tried to be convincing, but failed horribly.
''For someone who works in the film industry you are an awful actor.'' Wooyoung said once they'd made their was to an empty hall.
Seonghwa scoffed.
''Well, you're not that good either, you bug.''
'''Watch your language, Park. You might be older than me but we both know that you need me.''
Seonghwa tangled his slender hands in the pockets of his jacket, if he could've, he would've loved to grab Jung Wooyoung by his throat and tightened it until there was no single heartbeat left from the younger. But due to all the conditions surrounding him, he just had to his hands clench onto his own clothes.

•

The businessman sighed as he watched people walking into the big hall. If there was one thing Park Seonghwa despised from the core of his heart it'd be ballet. Surrounders had always wondered why, why everytime the word was even spoken out loud his posture became a lot harder to carry. But no answers were ever given to the questions.

Seonghwa felt his throat dry up as he the first dancer come up. The movement were fragile, but precious, something that had to be treated like a wine glass, so perfectly shaped yet breakable. 
It was enough for him to hate.

And Jung Wooyoung knew that.

But it wasn't a surprise to him knowing that the man next to him would to anything to make his life more miserable. 

The minutes past and Seonghwa looked over all the dancers. Their bodies were all willowy, it looked the same to him, even the male dancers didn't stand out that much. But when his eyes met one other dancer, his skin became pale like porcelain. 
God had picket out a soul as one of his favourites and smitten it out in one perfect human being. It was perhaps, the best way to describe the creature. His eyes were metres away, probably too vague to understand. But Seonghwa saw everything, Seonghwa saw how the stars in his eyes moved, how one sparkled more than the other, how some were falling down and some were holding themselves together, he captured the moon and each hole in it, his eyes were emotional, so meaningful, a place that could describe better than words. 

A place Seonghwa needed to describe his beauty.

And for the following hour, his eyes traced every single movement the dancer made, every road his limbs took when following the music. It was a sight he'd never forget, and forever would cherish.

But then Jung Wooyoung managed to spill his coffee onto Seonghwa's blouse. Where he even got that coffee from would forever be a mystery. But there was one thing that stood certain: it definitely wasn't an accident.
So Park Seonghwa smiled mumbling that it didn't matter when in fact he was placing his hands on Wooyoung's shoulder squeezing it as hard as possible. If his skin wouldn't have been covered in a suit you probably could've seen his shoulder losing all its colour, the surrounding parts spitting out all the colours the rainbow could made and the immense pain that he was going through. 

With that being done, Seonghwa shaped a smile on his face, while his head was still dizzy from the beautiful boy he'd encountered. 

•

The rest of the day all the businessman could think of was the magnificent ballet dancer, it made him dizzy, nauseous, nervous, all sorts of mixed feelings that would usually have been awful were now pleasurable. His wife had been questioning the dreamy smile across his face, the flames that were singing in his eyes. But Seonghwa put his finger on her pretty mouth and reassured her that it was fine. 

So the warmth he'd felt that night closing his eyes didn't come from the body of the woman next to him, but from the jumps and lingers his heart was making. 

Drifting off to dream world, Seonghwa found himself sitting in a dark room. A room that even the black demons would have called too dark to encounter.
A silence fell into the area. 

It wasn't long, but still noticable. 

Then a light turned on, it was one of those spotlights that would be pointed on a stand up comedian these days, it was rough seeing how light it was compared to the room. 

There he was.

Tip toeing, leaning his arms towards the invisible ropes of the music that was holding him. He was like a marionette being dragged by a violin stepping himself into the melody of darkness.
Seonghwa could list a whole scoop of words of how beautiful he thought this was but then his joy was disturbed by a liquid dripping on his thighs. He pressed his fingers onto his pants feeling thick wetness rubbing between his skin. 
A spotlight fell onto him. 
He looked down and noticed that redness was tracing his fingers.

Blood.

Another drop, this time it his lips, he dragged his palm against his soft mouth and looked at the horror of blood on his skin. 
If there was one thing Seonghwa feared, it was blood.
And no one knew why either. But it creeped him out everytime, it handed him over goosebumps everytime, it made him feel things evertime.

He gasped as another drop hit him. 

Another one.

And another drop.

Drop.

Drop.

A whole shower of blood was crossing his body, feeling up every part, tracing every part, just like he'd looked at the dancer. 
But he was still dancing, the violin started getting rougher, but he was still dancing, the man in front of him was screaming, but he was still dancing, the melody clashed together with all sorts of other tones leaving one big mess of sounds, and the worse the music got, the less he could breathe. 
But he was still dancing.

Seonghwa cried as the blood was creeping up into his mouth, he screamed, but they were deafened by darkness. He tried to speak words that were consumed by blood. Darkness embraced him and Seonghwa kept on whimpering for help. But it never came, so he suffered until even his sight was covered with red.  

''Seonghwa, honey.''
Seonghwa shot himself up panicking as he wiped the sweat off his face that he'd mistaken for blood. His breath hitched and he coughed up the dryness in his throat.
The woman next to him held his hand as she handed over a glass of water. 
He drank it up and stared at the plain wall in front of him.

He didn't know what the dream meant.
He didn't know why the dancer was there.
He didn't know how he felt.

But one thing was for sure:

He had to see him again.

unedited sorry lol