𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐓𝐘 ━ 𝚠𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚙.

Chapter 0.

0一 and he fell from grace

༻𖥸༺

PARK YE-JUN WAS A STATISTIC, just another number to add to the masses, another face in the crowd, another person with a boring routine. Sure, he got good grades and was in his third year of studying at law school to become a lawyer, but what other Korean kid wasn't?

(Failing your parents' expectations was not an option.)

And him, being the first child and all, had more pressure upon his shoulders than his sister ever would.

Ye-jun was quiet, sometimes brooding, condescending in his smartass comments and utterly disgusted with social interactions.

And Ju-hee... Well, Ju-hee was the opposite.

She had spunk, never once shying away from a conversation, made funny comments and was the textbook definition of a social butterfly.

(He summed it up as a side effect of being offered a lot more freedom than he ever got.)

They were on opposite sides of the spectrum, and yet they coexisted in relative harmony.

"Hurry up, oppa! It's getting late!" Ju-hee complained as she tapped her foot to emphasize her point, and the little shit had the gal to shove her phone in his face. Internally, he blew a raspberry, outwardly, he rolled his eyes.

"You're not the one carrying a guitar case, pabo." He snarked back.

She pouted with feign innocence and flicked his glasses. In retaliation, he pulled at her high ponytail before she could run away.

(The yelp he got as a reaction was quite satisfying.)

With a glance and an unspoken promise of payback, his little sister walked in front of him, hands clasped behind her back. "But seriously, we have to hurry up or we'll miss your chance to finally perform!" She beamed at him, excitement coursing through her.

'Aish...' He mentally grimaced. "You're still on about that..."

Ye-jun was a recluse. He had no problem walking out of the house and speaking with people, but at the same time he did. It was an odd thing, his personality, that is.

The young musician sighed at the look on his sister's face and dropped the subject. He should honestly feel grateful that his pain in the ass of a sibling was doing this for him. Ye-jun loved music. When he was playing an instrument he felt more alive than ever. And out of everyone in their family, Ju-hee was the most supportive of his passion.

(Although, her quips of him becoming a k-pop idol were getting old by now.)

He guessed that his parents never really thought to make him drop the hobby because of his constant high grades. They didn't drop, instead, at times, they went up. So they saw it as simply a teenage interest that would pass.

(Spoiler alert, it didn't.)

As the years passed, Ye-jun grew to love music more and more and sought out every type of instrument that he could get his hands on and studied it until he knew it like that back of his hand. Because Ye-jun was enamoured by the sound of the guitar, mesmerised by the high pitches if the violin and lulled by the soulful cords of the piano.

He was smitten. Oh so very lost among music sheets and self-made songs that he oftentimes forgot himself.

Because Ye-jun was smart, but he was soft. Despite his unapproachable personality, he was warm at heart and it was oh-so obvious in the way he made comments at his sister and in his feather-like touch as he handled his instruments.

Ye-jun was kind. "The world is undeserving of you." his sister once said, after he fought with his parents when he brought up the idea of becoming a music teacher or maybe a private tutor, trying so desperately to comfort him while tears streamed down his face.

(His idea was shot down.)

And so Ye-jun resigned from his dreams. Because as long as he lived under his parents' roof, his life was not his own.

And he craved freedom. He felt as days passed, that he would not be able to live like this for long.

Ye-jun was smart, but quiet. His one true love was music. He breathed it and he lived for it.

And he died for it.

'Don't look like that, Ju-hee.' He thought, pushing away his shocked sister, away from the path of danger.

He felt the impact of metal in his back and knew that his ribs had broken through the soft tissue of his lungs.

'Don't look so sad.' He wanted to say to his crying sister, but as he parted his lips, he could only taste the tangy bitterness of copper.

Ye-jun smiled, wiping away her tears with shaky hands. He couldn't hear her words, his ears were ringing and his body felt numb to the hands pressed against his chest.

A ways away, his guitar case lay broken, the wooden instrument fallen out and cracked, but not shattered.

'Being sad doesn't suit you, Ju-hee.'

Because Ye-jun was smart, but quiet. His sister was his confidant and hero. His one true love was music. He breathed it and he lived for it.

And he died for it.

And the cold hands of death snaked around his neck, stealing away what little breath he had left.

And yet he smiled.

In his last moments, his lips quirked up and he smiled at his sister.

Ye-jun was gentle, but snarky; smart, but quiet; outgoing, but reclusive and he was content with being in contradiction with himself. He liked that he was constantly changing, never staying the same.

'Hey, Ju-hee. Next time I see you, tell me more about the those comics you like reading.'

And the void swallowed him whole.