Chapter Text
Yoo Joonghyuk probably held the last bit of his sanity as he was handed over the latest jingling keys, that had been, as his manager mustered up the courage to inform, not touched by anyone for ages after a certain incident. But now with nowhere else to go since the beginning of the renovation of his house after his parents' death and Yoo Mia’s return from her studies abroad, Yoo Joonghyuk had to for the time being search for an accomodation ample enough to support not just him but Mia too when she returned because he could bet his last cent that renovation would see a lot more changes according to whatever Mia pleased as their parents always suggested.
And since his manager had been fussing about finding a room or apartment or whatever close enough to his working quarters, large enough to accommodate and reinstall his gaming facilities and the various necessities of the company, Yoo Joonghyuk had been on hot tails since the last month, finishing up with nothing at either ends each time because it was either something that was too far from the working office, at the otehr end of the city or too close to the bustling city, something the Yoo siblings hated with a passion, top loud for Joonghyuk, too small for Mia and the manager as well to accomodate every single digit of that gaming station and other equipment, too much crowd, too many nosy neighbours, too many people to greet, or no one at all in sight to greet Mia as she would wish sometimes and it was too small a facility to be accepted or it was either the too old an idea for a house that too would need renovation, or the owner themselves were shady to say the least, noses flaring to whip in the scent of either money, which wasn't a trouble for either of them but it was the later part of the idea where it was not only money but the strange taste of want, need to get into Joonghyuk's pants, right there to cause scandals, that made his manager stepped in even before he could deny.
“Right so,” Yoo Sangah, his manager, managed to pinch her nose in that extremely exasperated look as she handed over the jingling keys she took from the old woman waving them and he nodded, hoping it was the best polite act he could muster, towards the lady before turning to his cousin cum manager, “ here you have the sanest place to live. And I cannot for the love of gods, go another hour searching for more.” She finally shrugged with a small, pressed smile walking back towards their car. “ Hope you understand this was the best we could do with the what nots of given time and you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” He shrugged back, too tired to even disagree with such a beautiful accomodation as the apartment handed over to him. “ This is the best, I would say. No unnecessary drama. No unnecessary fatigue. A place by the office as you would please.” He cocked his head towards her who shook her head with a knowing smile. “ And enough space for both Mia and I. This would do. And if possible I would say this is exactly the best.”
“Yeah, maybe we were looking at wrong places. We should have—actually I should have listed this one first. But since…,” she trailed off, hazel eyes scanning the too sparse road save for their car parked beside the lady's old mansion, as the shadows of the larger mansion beyond the lady's own house cast upon the road, demanding attention.
“It's not an issue. Not to me. Not to Mia either. I can assure you that.” Yoo Joonghyuk said, stepping into the car, as they trailed towards the path leading towards his new place.
“Yeah, I know. Neither Mia nor you believe in these things, but…,” Sangah looked pensive as she threw a glance at him from the passenger seat and even Hyunsung was apprehensive of the idea.
“It's an urban legend, Joonghyuk ssi. Whether or not you believe it, is totally upon you. But as we see,” Hyunsung blinked, swerving towards the road guarded by beautiful trees, standing high to welcome Joonghyuk as he wondered why would anyone ever not like this place, “people who do believe in those stories about this place may not like a public figure like you to reside here.”
“I am the one who decides where I live. Not them.” Joonghyuk cut in sharply making Hyunsung shift upon his seat.
Sangah sighed at that. “ Celebrities, I told you numerous times before, are not the only one deciding their days.” She threw a withering glance at whatever Joonghyuk was about to protest. “ I can assure you this move of yours will conjure words both encouraging and more debilitating. But don't you worry,” she gave an ever encouraging smile as Hyunsung parked the car, right before the wooden gates, standing eerily still, reminder of fates that turned to the horrifying urban legend whispering by, “I and the team will turn anything discouraging into our win. We know how to use even a haunted house.” She chuckled as Hyunsung shuddered at the mention of the urban legend.
“I will make sure even this goes into your favour, darling cousin of mine.” Getting out, she went ahead to stand beside the great oak trees looking over the many such greenery within, that had not been touched since the last decade, remaining still within the screams or perhaps silent cries of the dead. “ That actor's pain is not unknown to us. But you living here,” she turned with a smile, ever radiant and Joonghyuk knew it was of no use to stop her from doing her job, that was to make sure her younger cousin was revered and loved as he deserved, “could be a turning point for the better. Maybe we can take this as an opportunity to salvage the image of the actor too by repainting this house as the abode, as temporary as it might be, of yours filled with laughter and wins.”
Hyunsung could only nod between the two, unsure of what else to say as he looked on at the gates that stood still, never disclosing the legend of how one fateful summer night the now abandoned house, never not maintained well, heard silent cries of a young and promising actor and how it was painted with the blood of his once favourite person, an idol he never really got to admire properly.
“Do whatever you want. As I said, I don't believe in that urban legend or whatever. Besides,” Joonghyuk swung the keys, the jingles loud in the silence of that hidden abode, “Mia loves places such as this. Said something about how excited and adventurous it would seem, besides having the potential of becoming a nice decour for her vlogs.” He shrugged, leaning down finally to click in the keys, trying out one after the solve.
Hyunsung wondered if all Yoos had the similar poised and this unwaveringly indifferent an attitude. But then again, Sangah certainly was different or not.
“Thinking about how we all are the same?” She whispered, mirth dancing in those hazel eyes.
And Hyunsung suppressing a suprised gasp, shook his head before the hazel eyes shifted with a smirk and he had to affirm her suspicions.
“Could tell that without asking.” Sangah giggled a little. Turning to Joonghyuk though, who was still fumbling with the keys, she whispered in a conspiratory voice, “ That one though is a mess, a stubborn mess. More than any of us. So please help me take care of him, Hyunsung ssi.”
She didn't have to tell him that. It was his job afterall. And even if it wasn't, looking at Joonghyuk who finally let a small smile out before returning to his usual frown as he unlocked the large gates, Hyunsung was aware he would do well to take care of this man that seemed to bear grudges against the world that left no kind touches save for a few in their wake towards him. Joonghyuk was by far, perhaps one of the most tortured being, after the actor whose house he now occupied, that Hyunsung had the tragedy to meet. To be always under the scrutiny of the public eyes, always being regarded as nothing more than a money making machine, nothing but a name to attach stories as people pleased and never a man whose wounded heart should be healed, was a tough job. But Joonghyuk had been doing it well, for his sister at the least. Even though Sangah had time and again convinced him to let her help, he had seen Joonghyuk refusing knowing well of the woman's own situations with her side of the family after she came out to them. It was tough being a Yoo.
“Finally!” Sangah clapped her hands in joy, effortlessly dragging Hyunsung out from his reverie and allowing him a slow pace to follow her in.
“You took your sweet time with that key, brother.” She mused, pushing away the giant wood doors, framed wild and heavy with ease.
“Try saying that after you see these.” Joonghyuk grumbled at the keys he pushed into his pockets. “ All looked the same. Gotta think how to distinguish them. Or I might as well lose them. Exactly how many rooms are in here for there to be so many keys?”
“Why bother asking when you are not going to use half of them?” Sangah approached him with an extended hand. “ Keys. I don't want you grumbling all while we are here. Besides, I am told the dining and the living area had been cleaned by the owner and her butlers. Let's go there first.” She ordered, taking away the keys that Joonghyuk handed. And they were all left to follow suit.
Entering the mansion though, Joonghyuk came to know exactly why it commaded the tale of an urban legend. An accident in a mansion like this one should command attention at any cost. With its grand entrance succeeding those imposing wooden doors, sweeping into the pebbled lane of a bygone era, tracing down the paths into the large corridor painted with dark marbles and white ceilings, opulence in every painting hung upon the walls and every intricate design carved upon the floor, wall, ceiling screamed class and demand the justified gasps from his friends. And not to mention how each corridor seemed to never end, simply curving only for it to turn into yet another corridor, and staircase, spiral and classy lining down the many places, all kept without a speckle of dirt as if it wasn't lived in for a decade, as if the butlers had been diligently making their rounds in these hollowed and lonely parts of the mansion too.
“Are you sure it isn't lived in, Sangah ssi?” Hyunsung asked following Sangah into the edge of the corridor leading to a small wooden pathway, down to another marbled lane into the expansive garden filled with all sorts of flowers and trees, Joonghyuk hardly had ever seen.
And yet something inadvertently caught his eyes and he was compelled to walk towards it.
“I am in awe as well, Hyunsung ssi. I didn't think the owner meant this when she said it was well kept and readied to be lived. It's as if it has always been lived in.” She felt a shudder at the thought of what else would have demanded such a peaceful place.
“Whatever it's,” Joonghyuk said, still awed by what he had found, little jasmines in the garden, still growing under the shade of a large flamboyant tree, shyly ducking its head towards the corresponding wall, “ it's a place good for all of us. I will think about the rest of the rooms later. But first,” he turned to Sangah with a nod, “ I would like to clean Mia's and my own rooms. Help me out with that, will you?”
“That's what I am here for.” She shrugged. “ But hey,” she looked around to catch Hyunsung’s eyes, who shifted under the message in her eyes, “you know right, that this place doesn't really demand much attention and that not many are interested to help out in this corner of the city?”
When Joonghyuk raised a brow with a disinterested look, Sangah knew they had to spill all the beans. She rubbed her temple in exasperation. “ Look, I tried, I really did.” She threw her hands in designation. “ But none of them, not a single one, is interested to help us out. They have sentiments latched both in fear, hatred, disgust and horrors of what transpired here and the tales of this place. And so, no matter how much money they are offered or whatever demands are met, they still refused.” And when even that didn't seem to faze Joonghyuk, Sangah said what she knew her cousin would be demanding next. “ And no, no amount of your name could convince them to come here of all places.” She shook her head.
Joonghyuk looked on for several seconds, glancing between two of his friends, both of whom had been precious parts of his life, as if they are the traitors of his country. “ Then what do you suggest I do? Drive everything on my own to here!?” He groaned, flabbergasted at the mere thought of that.
And Hyunsung looked at him as if he had grown two heads. As if he had the right to. And Sangah literally didn't have the right to be annoyed when his patience was being tested.
“Well, I do have suggestions. If you would like to hear.” She smiled, too sweet for anything good to come out of her, something he would like to attribute to her time never well spent with her girlfriend.
“And what,” he started, crossing his arms across his chest, grumbling as she did the same, “may I know that might be?”
“The only good people who would come here and help you out with no money in demand, just free food and a night here anytime they want would be—”
“Absolutely freaking no!” He barked at that, irritation raging in his heart at the mere suggestion of what Sangah was implying at.
At that Hyunsung simply shrugged. “ But that's our only option if you ever want any work to get done, Joonghyuk ssi.”
“You aren't helping at all, Hyunsung!” He gritted his teeth, his irritation in this heat and the messiness of the situation to find a place at all taking a toll on him.
“Nor are you.” Sangah chided in, calmly, stepping closer to him as he eyed her with dismay. “ Look, brother, this is the only and the best way out.”
“Really? The best?” He looked at her with incredulous eyes, “That Han Sooyoung and Heewonie coming here as help, is the best you can think of?” The mere thought of the aftermath of those two, well combined with the rest of their gang which he knew would inevitably follow the first was the last nightmare he was ready to face then.
“ That Sooyoungie is my lover, you fool!” She was close to smack his head, that he could see but he still rolled his eyes, and Hyunsung sighed, following Sangah's resolution. “ If you aren't ready to go back and forth like a thousand times simply to get this house ready enough to live in as you wish, take the help that's offered or leave.”
As much as he disliked the idea of their rowdy bunch crash landing on the first day of his visit into his house, looking at Sangah, he knew this was the best that could be offered right then. And it would be for the best too that he took this help.
“Er…,” Hyunsung scratched his nape, eyeing the two, “ if you guys don't mind, I can ask some of my friends who don't really mind this place nor the legend as Joonghyuk ssi, to come in and help.”
At that both of them turned to Hyunsung, one with a smile and the other with a designation knowing he wouldn't see the end of the night that day.
“Perfect!” Sangah clapped happily. “ I will contact Sooyoungie and the rest. Heewonie and Namwoonie will meet us at your place. The kids will join us later.” With that being said, he was given not a single more word of choice as Sangah called her lover and the rest of the nightmare for him was arranged.
But as much as he disliked the idea of this rowdy bunch crashing at his place out of nowhere, he couldn't help but be more grateful at the idea that even when nothing would be left with him, this would be what propelling him forward, forever. All of them had a place in his heart and wherever he lived, which they too knew was always open for them. If he couldn't open the doors himself, they knew they had permission to simply barge in.
And that was exactly what they did. Because they knew Joonghyuk was too caught up in his storm to see the sun. But they would make sure as Sangah did a lot of times before to bring the sun to him nevertheless.
With that being said, by the time the sun was about to set,his new house was filled with enough chatters that could only be called noise at some point. Heewon was ordering everyone around as if it was her place she had to redesign while Sangah and Sooyoung had taken upon themselves the work to redo Mia's room and places as she would like, keeping her busy too on the call with Shin Yoosung and Lee Gilyoung, both of whom were running around with their own shares of cookies and sometimes a bit of work. Surprisingly enough Hyunsung's friends involved Gong Pildu and Han Myungoh, alongside Jang Hayoung who had deliberately asked Lee Seolhwa too to follow them in. And now his place had half of his working staff too in there. And if that wasn't enough then his gaming friends Uriel, Sun Wukong and that kid going by the name Black Flame too had tagged in.
This house was nothing short of a club by then, he concluded. But would that stop these guys from having their share of fun pulling Joonghyuk in whether or not he had asked for it? Nope, never.
And with that, the house was set even before the stars started twinkling brightly alongside the full moon. And the gang, as they liked to call themselves were neatly arranged in the larger hall room, with their own shares of bean bags and chairs and couches and some, especially the kids were sprawled upon the newly laid carpet, drowning in their endless gossips that they had to share with Mia on video call, while chips and soft drinks and all sorts of delicacies Sooyoung could tease out of him laid there, inviting him in along.
He sighed, finally getting time to flop down beside Heewon who was currently engrossed in a heated conversation of the next national boxing championship with Hyunsung who merely nodded at the enthusiasm of his lady love. Joonghyuk faintly offered that a smile. It was sight quite amiable to catch often the man too shy to speak crumbling at the most mundane of attention from Heewon. It was also very human to see someone's eyes lighting up with such genuine interest even in things that barely concerned them, if that meant the person of their affection would indulge them just a bit more.
“All is set.” Sangah took her seat beside him, pulling Sooyoung over, drinks in her hands being passed to him which he gladly took a swig of. “ Expect for your gaming station and the rest of the equipments which I will bring tomorrow. If you need anything else, just call us.”
“Yeah, just call us.” Han Sooyoung chimed in with a grin. “ I wouldn't mind offering yet another help if it means free food and a stay in this castle.” She whistled, admiring the high ceilings and the magnificent designs drawn upon the walls, simple yet elegant.
“As if, I would ever allow you that.” Joonghyuk snorted.
“As if you have a choice in that.” He glared at Sooyoung who grinned taking another annoying swig of her drink.
“Oh, that reminds me.” Shin Yoosung, freshly done with her gossips with his sister, turned around to lay upon her stomach and eyed the elders sitting in the group.
Somehow that made Joonghyuk raise a brow in question as Jihye too sat up with a question in her eyes, too prominent to go unnoticed.
“Me too, me too.” Gilyoung sat up too, scooting closer to the edge of the sofa where Uriel sat.
“What's it, kids?” Sangah asked only for Yoosung to nod at her buddies before continuing.
“Um…is it true…,” scratching her cheek a little, as if unsure her question would cause more harm than supposed, she continued, “...that rumor about this house being…haunted?” She sat up, crossing her legs. And even before anyone could offer a reply, she shook her hands. “ Ah, although I heard it from Jihye Unnie, both Mia and I don't believe that there's anything such as a ghost.”
“Nor do I!” Gilyoung added quickly.
“But,” Jihye looked around to find all the elders with varied amount of expressions, some willing to reciprocate Yoosung and Gilyoung’s notions, some less willing to answer as they avoided her gaze altogether, and some bored out of their moods to even bother, “I would like to know exactly what was the rumor. Everyone keeps saying an actor died here. But that's all there's we know. And just because someone died, doesn't mean the place they lived in is haunted.”
“Jihye ah,” Heewon chided, “you guys don't need to think so much about these things. It's as you said just a rumor. Nothing more. Why bother knowing about a rumor you don't believe in?”
“It's not like that, Unnie.” Yoosung shifted her gaze from Heewon to the one she knew would answer her promptly and so was caught the lamb sitting between Sooyoung and Joonghyuk. And Sangah literally fumbled as Yoosung smiled, too sweetly at her, something she had been learning from Sooyoung to get her way as she pleased. “I just wanted to know exactly what happened in here. It's not a harm to learn the story, right? Besides, Mia said she would like to know about the place she is gonna live in. “ Scooting even closer to her, Yoosung almost pleaded, “ Please tell us the story that led to the rumor of this house being haunted. Please. Please.”
“Yeah, tell us, Sangah Unnie, why did no one really want to come here?” And in came her supporters floating with their own shares of questions.
And Joonghyuk felt his rationality dying little by little. Kids these days knew none of the reserved the rest of them possessed. And he could see Sangah crumbling under their pleading eyes and pleas, ready to tell whatever little she knew about it.
“Because this is a place,” but it was Sooyoung’s sharp voice that pierced in, breaking through whatever fairytale these kids wished to hear, “that saw a man, an innocent one in many’s eyes, and a criminal in other's eyes, taking his own life. And because people after ages are still torn between who was right and who was wrong. And because these walls are supposedly painted with the innocent’s blood, they say once in a while they could hear in the summer lone, a man's cries for help, for someone to understand him.”
The kids stilled at the revelation. Even Uriel and the others who seemed to know nothing of what had transpired before, stayed transfixed. It was understandable for many of them, not even Gong Pildu would have known about the things that happened at the height of the actor's fame that in one shattered and left no trace of him ever again to be found. No articles, no pages were left to mourn for him except for the day his body was found, that too, Joonghyuk remembered well, wasn't carried out of this house for some reason or the other.
“They said,” Hyunsung, who had been quiet all this time, spoke with a voice too heavy, carrying perhaps the remnants of whatever affection he felt towards the deceased, “the reporters, I mean, that Dokja ssi, Kim Dokja ssi, was a drug addict, was in fact into substance abuse. And he had been taking so much drugs that on that eventful night after a fight with one his colleagues he couldn't reign his controls and he took his life.”
There was a shadow in his eyes that told Joonghyuk this man hurt for the idol whom he used to protect. If his memories served him right, Hyunsung used to be part of the team that protected Kim Dokja, the actor well sought after right when he graduated.
“Many also said,” it was Sangah, a sad smiling playing upon her lips, as she caressed the can of coke in her hands, “he was in fact a son of a criminal. Also, that he killed his own parents right after they were out of the jail, after their sentence was done with. And that he is the one who,” she took a shuddering breath in, not sure if she should continue they part where they said he was also the only seducing producers and directors and even actors to climb the stairs of stardom and not the other way around, just as Kim Dokja before his death had proclaimed, to have been sexually assaulted. She bit her lips, keeping everything in, as if any more than this would tarnish the already tarnished hearts of the kids.
They seemed to have frozen, never perhaps expecting such a morbid story to be behind the cries this mansion held.
“Alright, that's enough.” Heewon got up, putting down her bottle of sake, she had magically produced before. “That's enough story time for you all. It's already late, so go get some sleep. We are all tired with the day's work. So we will be crashing here. Hurry up,” she said stretching her limbs, before she nudged but Hayoung and Jihye to get up, “ and help me lay the mattress so we can sleep. Come.”
The kids groaned at that. But at least Joonghyuk could see the mood shifting again as Yoosung fought for the bed right beside wherever Sangah would sleep. And just like that, Joonghyuk found the night too coming to a closure he didn't expect.
He too knew of the events that happened a decade ago. He too knew of the fame and the love, not just for his career but for the man he was, for the heart Kim Dokja possessed, that he was given. Joonghyuk knew, almost apologetically so, as he threw a quick glance at his friends, many of them, even Sangah too, used to be a fan of him and many seemed heartbroken for a man whom they didn't even know personally.
As he laid upon the matress beside the couch occupied by Hayoung, he laid awake, wondering why they would ever like to attach so many expectations, so many wishes with a man, with an actor who they had never met, whom they had never seen nor known personally, never been a part of his journey, never seen his side of the story. It seemed arbitrary to him, to even think of creating any assumptions about what the deceased had done or hadn't done. It seemed even foolish to think Joonghyuk had any right or anyone for the matters, to discuss the life of a man who wished to entertain them onscreen. It was a different matter that the heart of that man from what he had heard and seen and had known, never personally though, was quite a simple love.
And Kim Dokja, that man, wished to give whatever he could for others. Joonghyuk remembered reading articles once in awhile thrusted towards him by Sangah about how the actor was yet again caught by the paparazzi donating money and clothes and foods and whatever else he could to the orphanage, to the old houses, helping around the locality, the poor, the homeless and even the people lauded with gold. That man had a heart too full of love that tumbling upon the ground made him trip. It was his choice to do whatever he wished. And Joonghyuk wondered why must the world twist that simple looking man, whose face was vague in his memory. He wondered why would the world not give a chance to the man, even if he were to turn into a criminal, the chance to change. And changes were seen, in the way he moved and lived. There was never once a story where that man was not seen without the regrets of something in his eyes, or that Sangah would say once in a while.
But Joonghyuk wondered still how foolish could that man be, to never act upon the allegations, the accusations thrown upon him? How foolish could that man had been to never go through the pains of clearing his name until fates had to turn their ugly heads towards his death?
Just how foolish and how lonely was Kim Dokja?
Joonghyuk wondered. And he closed his eyes. But sleep seemed to that night evaded him. Pictures from a long time ago, of a man in a blazing white coat, often linen white shirts and night kissed hair and eyes full of stars danced around his heart. And he opened his eyes, breathing hard, chest too full for air, eyes too tired for sleep.
And that was how he found himself roaming around the vastness of the mansion, hoping the sleep would come if he were to take a walk. Or perhaps because it was this place, new to him that led into sleepless night. And as he roamed the vast gardens, the gentle Jasmine's blooming awake, he stopped to brace himself in their presence, reminding him of the way his mother would bring them for Mia and him. It was one of his favourite memories. Mia was too young to remember such things, he was aware. But he had taken it upon himself to create a life better for both of them to share more of these memories.
And with that he started wandering again, sleep simply evading him now, as he traced the many corridors and the especially decorated stairs spiralling down to the rooms below. His curious steps never flattered even under the dark, as he walked and walked and roamed the lands that were unknown to him. It took him a while before he reached a corner that demanded his attention. The spiral staircase led to this corner of the house where laid asleep the many traces of the deceased.
The mansion, he was aware, was made to suit the actor's taste but this part, Joonghyuk shuddered, it seemed to scream forbidden. This tasted, this place, tasted of the actor's simple yet elegant taste blended well into every nook and corner, eerily keeping them all alive in the memories of the man who was gone having carved them to simply live on, all alone.
Yet another shudder of something unknown traced down his heart. It was not fear. It was not even the anxious thump of his heart right before an important match he felt. It was something akin to pain, the ache in his heart keeping him still, frozen in his place. What was it about this place and especially about this room, filled with nothing but a giant window marred by the wonders of scattered paints, the shelf full of books, untouched, yet without a single speckle of dirt and a large couch, a soft looking mattress laid forever alone upon the floor, inviting him in as he walked, and walked with slow steps towards the large window that seemed to look about the place outside—the garden full of roses of all kinds.
Joonghyuk couldn't tell if this was romantic or faintly full of sorrow. He couldn't tell if he should be scared or enthralled by the beauty of it all or both. Or if he should even be here or should he run away? He couldn't decide. It was as if his mind and heart were torn, torn between the wish to stay and explore more and ask, ask why it was all so well kept, as if still waiting for their owner to return.
But he walked still, into the depths of this confined room, sleep no longer a thing in his mind. And as he walked into the room, he found to his very surprise yet another room, whose door was unlocked. And curiosity had never such a despicable friend of his. But tonight he was both daring and despising it still, as he walked in, into the room where he expected dirt and cobwebs for they had not stepped into this part of the mansion. But to his surprise all that greeted him was neat scent of roses.
And a sudden fear lurched into his heart, grasping him. He blinked and blinked again, even as he stepped with unsure steps into the room with its large bed and tiny petals of roses falling upon the table beside the bed, with no dirt,no cobwebs in sight. But that was not what made his heart do a double take. That was not what arrested his very attention. That was the least of his concern when he turned to his left only for all voice, all thoughts to leave him unconcerned of the rest.
Even in the dark,in the pitch black dark of that room, with the full moon, trying its best to cast it light but failing to, Joonghyuk saw, he could see even without the moonlight flickering in, the dark eyes full of stars, twinkling from the painting hung upon the wall.
A gasp tore past his lips, his steps flattering back as his hand lurched towards his thundering heart. For there remained upon the wall the image of the man, as clear as day, having not aged nor tarnished by the ages of unattended care, still bearing that half smile upon those beautiful lips.
And that was the first time, Joonghyuk with his aching heart realised, he had seen the man in his true beauty, with his entire attention for the first time.
And that was the first time too, Joonghyuk realised he had heard his heart beat so fast, perhaps out of fear and out of something he didn't understand, as he kept on staring at the beautiful smile of that face, that seemed to have frozen in age.
With his eyes from the heaven itself, of the night sky filled with stars and night kissed hair and that jewelled smile and that beautiful, beautiful heart of his, Joonghyuk couldn't help but decide with a smile, anyone who had had the fortune to see this man in front of them, had the clear favour of fate to know of him, was in fact the luckiest of all.
But unfortunately, with a saddened smile, Joonghyuk thought, even if he wished to he couldn't know him ever.
“You are a fool.” He murmured to no one in particular.
“Is that what you say to someone you probably are admiring?”
And all thoughts drained from his mind, smile falling away as Joonghyuk whipped his head, faster than light could travel, as goosebumps ran across his body.
He was sure. He was damn sure there was no one, none of the kids, nor even Sangah who had seen him roam the gardens, nor had any of them followed him in.
So who was that? Just whose voice did he hear then? He whipped his head around, scanning the room, as he stumbled back for he found no one, no one in sight. Then he twirled around again, too fast, hoping to catch the prankster, most probably Sooyoung, having woken up and following him in to surprise him, but he found no one again.
“Did I hallucinate it?” He blinked and blinked again before shaking his head. “ I…I guess I did.” He frowned to no one. “ Must be because I am not well rested. I should probably go back to sleep.” He kept on mumbling even as his eyes scanned the room, all around the darkness that didn't seem to pose a problem as he could see and take in quite well all that was sparsely placed in the room. With one last look at the man's picture upon the wall, Joonghyuk sighed. “ Maybe I am hallucinating.”
And he shook his head yet again, walking away from the room, that seemed to remain untouched by anything that would have tarnished its beauty. He scratched his nape, still unsure of what exactly was that. He could swear he heard something. But he could also swear there was no one in there. Maybe it was all his sleepless mind and the mindless chatter before sleep.
Whatever it was, he would learn of it in the morning. Looking at his clock at still said 1:00 am, Joonghyuk raced up the stairs to catch whatever sleep he could find before morning comes and he was asked to prepare not just his work room but whatever else Mia would ask before her return the next week.
____
Or so he had planned. Because the morning next didn't go as planned. Someone's noisy alarm woke them all up. Apparently it was Uriel with Heewon whining behind her to get up so they could reach her office soon enough to start an early morning match. And while the commotion raged on, one by one everyone woke up. And somehow they all managed to greet him a great day before leaving for their respective house but not before they had chucked down whatever Sangah and Sooyoung could prepare hastily before they were all rushing out, with the kids whining for a longer stay and Joonghyuk kindly promising them a sooner visit anytime they needed. And yet before they left, he didn't forget to call Sangah back, with whom saddled in her lover with suspicious eyes.
“What's up? Couldn't the prince sleep on floor for one night?” Sooyoung teased, rolling the candy in her mouth the first thing in the morning much to Yoos’ annoyance.
“For your kind information, I have been to many camps and those didn't offered the luxury of a pricey carpet to sleep upon, Sooyoung ah.” Joonghyuk rolled his eyes as she stuck her tongue out, finally done with her candy and Sangah shook her head at the exchange between them. “Anyway, Sangah,” turning to her, he asked, “did you or the owner get the staircases cleaned? Or the rooms below?”
“There's a room below?” Sooyoung chirped in much to Joonghyuk's annoyance.
“Yeah, there are in fact rooms.” Sangah supplied, cocking her head. “ But I don't remember the owner saying anything about keeping them clean. She simply takes care of the living quarters not of the quarters that,” she shrugged, “he had previously created for himself. And I didn't even go there. Thought you wouldn't like that. Why did you ask? Want us to rejuvenate that too?”
Joonghyuk blinked and blinked again, suddenly unsure of what to make of that information. And as he shook his head, something of the past night, that voice he heard in that room, seemed to cling to him in way that made his head hurt. Goodness, what exactly was that? Did he drink too much? Too much of what beer? That wouldn't do shit to him. But here he was, coming up with all sorts of details he found in the staircase and in that room, while his friends never went there.
“Hyuk…Joonghyuk!” He gasped at the sound of his name as Sangah came to stand before him with a worried gaze. “ Are you okay, Joonghyuk? Why do you look so pale?”
“Told you prince couldn't sleep alright.” Sooyoung chipped in, although he could see even she didn't belive whatever she said. “ Want us to stay a bit longer? You know,” she glanced around, “to perhaps check the area with you if you need to?”
Sangah smiled at that. But Joonghyuk didn't wish to bother them more than this. His first instinct was to shake his head, but with the throbbing pain coming to back from last night's events and perhaps the alcohol, however limited in his system, Joonghyuk simply resigned to a sigh.
“I am fine. Just worried about where to set the gaming station properly. That's all.”
“Oh, we can take care of it in the afternoon. Right now, go ahead and freshen up. And drink your coffee. Sooyoung kept it on the counter.” Sangah rubbed a gentle hand at his side. “ Everything will settle down soon, Joonghyuk. Hang in there.” Her gentle words were somehow not enough today to salvage the questions that arose in his heart.
“If you need anything, anytime, just call us.” And with that Sooyoung was turning around waving away with Sangah trailing behind her leaving him watching their backs, turning further and further away from where he stood.
And he wondered if he should go back to check what exactly was it he saw the night before. And when even the coffee, prepared just as he liked, didn't do justice to the restlessness within his heart. He decided then, getting up from the couch, racing towards the stairs with a definite decision to find the truth, he would today find out what transpired yesterday.
And as he approached the stairs, shock filled his heart and doubt clouded his mind. He was sure, he was very sure yesterday this corridor was delighted with nothing but the moonlight being reflected upon the clear carpet. He was sure, as he approached the stairs with a thudding heart, this was the same staircase he travelled down on yesterday. And last night, his fingers marred through no dirt, no dust at all. But now, as he watched on with eyes bulging wide, the stairs were ladden with dirt and dust and inattentiveness of by gone era, eah one creaking under his heavy step, the sounds of which he was sure the quiet of yesterday's night would have resonated but hadn't. And so his heart was in even more turmoil. What exactly happened then yesterday? He wanted to ask. But to whom, he wasn't sure. Because now, he wasn't even sure himself what exactly happened here yesterday.
And as he approached the room with the large window eyeing the garden beyond, his body shuddered with unsuppressed shock. It was crystal clear, the picture of last night, how gently the moon had tried to peek through the window into the room. And now it was all covered, tarnished by the way the cobwebs and dirt clinged to it. And that was not all. When his eyes met the shelf devoid of any books, and the carpet torn by careless ages, with the couches half torn, his steps flattered. But he didn't turn, couldn't turn away from the room, not before he looked for himself what he had found yesterday.
And so he raced with fear steadily clinging like poisonous vines around his chest, piercing into his bones as his chest burnt at the sight of the closed door he now stood in front of. He huffed, gasping as his hands tried to tear the lock. He groaned and grumbled and cursed some but all to his dismay did nothing to open the damn door latched so tight with the hands of time that had left it rusted, creaking under his touch, marring his hands instead with dirt and dust.
He stared with a heaving chest at the hands that were filled with dirt and stinging pain.
“ I saw it…,” he gasped instead, “ I fucking opened it yesterday!” And he screamed the second next.
And his voice was the only thing resonating in the silence of those corridors with no one to answer. Or perhaps there was really no one to answer.
“Dammit.” He cursed. “ Was it …,” he stumbled back, head hitting against the wall, as he stared at the locked doors in front of him, “...really a dream?”
He bit his lips, frowning, shaking his head for he was unable to shake this uneasiness from his heart.
“But I …,” he wasn't sure what he wished to say and to whom exactly he wished to complain.
To that voice he heard yesterday? To this faint feeling of someone watching him intently? To his chest aching at the thought of exactly who used to live, walk and breathe in these quarters?
“And why…just why…,” he still asked, as if the silence would answer him fast, why exactly was he aching for what had transpired years ago, dying to know if this place really belonged to a man whose innocence was tarnished. But he couldn't. There was no way he could ask. The truth was afterall buried with the past.
And so, he shook his head, sighing, filling himself with whatever strength he had left to push away from the wall and walk back, never turning towards the room again, berating himself to have felt so shaken at the thought of a dream perhaps.
And so he let that dream stay as such. Or that he tried to.
Deciding he had given it enough time and energy of his own, Joonghyuk tried delving into the rest of the mandatory works, such as grilling himself some nice brunch, making sure to settle the rest of the house later on.
But gods, his decision to have a meal was going anything but as planned. Anytime, he swore anytime he wished to pick make the omelette right as he pleased, that's salty and savoury and not exactly sweet, his hands would somehow land upon the messy pile of sugar packed at the farthest corner of the counter. And if he willed his heart away, his body would shudder involuntarily reminding him how wrong it was to touch the salt or the pepper, his mind wandering back towards the sugar now and then until finally sighing he thought of how much Mia loved that and perhaps since he missed her so much, he was craving it. But he could swear he wouldn't be able to digest that at all. And still, there he was making himself the sweetest possible omelette not as he, nor as Mia liked but just as the shudders and the wandering mind ordered.
Joonghyuk though was growing impatient. Because fucking hell, why was it this difficult to cut the tomatoes of all things? As soon as he touched one, tried his very best, willing his hand yielding the knife to come towards the fruit, his hand would not move past whatever resistance it felt. It was as if his body today refused to do as he asked. Numerous times the fruit had fallen out of his hands, the knife hitting the ground and the tomatoes getting squished under the weight of the tray falling over it. In short, the kitchen was a mess. And Joonghyuk had never in his entire life been messy,not in the kitchen, not when he had a baby sister to feed and nurture.
And why in the fresh hell, was this entire kitchen being set again? He would like to know too as he stretched to place the jar of cookies somewhere now Mia would easily find much to his internal dismay but to a certain ease he felt around him. And that was fucking him up. It would have been understandably ignored, really he would have, if not for the rest of the time he was being meddled with.
The next time this resistance happened was in the afternoon right after Sangah said they would deliver the equipments but setting it up would take time since she was busy at the office handling his work so that he could take a break for a few days. And Joonghyuk didn't mind, really he didn't. He would love to settle down with his equipments and ready them as he pleased, if only this fucking nuisance of a mood that was definitely not his, stop ruining his setup. After he was done with his gaming station, when he started placing and decorating the rest in his room, the second largest one available, whenever he placed a thing in a particular order, he could feel the presence putting pressure to do it the other way around.
He could fucking feel it. He could feel its keen eyes, sharp and demanding to remove the console from the table. It's stupid nags to remove the duster or the blankets, to not place a certain thing beside the bed or the couch or the fucking bathroom. Joonghyuk could fucking feel it's eyes all around, roaming with him anytime he did anything and ordering him.
And he was fucking done with it. He could feel his temple throbbing with the incessant demands of the pressure he could no longer dismiss as an intrusive thought or impulsive action. He could no longer, for fuck’s sake he wasn't stupid, ignore the blatant presence of the one that couldn't be seen.
And oh no, no it wasn't the higher power or almighty or the universe or anything above them.
Nope, not at all. It was in fact no one random. It was in fact the very presence that fucking talked to him yesterday in the corridors that were definitely clean yet today they were tarnished by the ages of carelessness. He fucking could feet it. And he could swear it knew he could feel it. And that way why it—he had been fucking around Joonghyuk since the last night, since he talked to him.
But would that fucking bastard come into light so that he could be confronted? Oh no, not at all. Why would he do that when he knew and could probably see Joonghyuk seething at some point?
And Joonghyuk would have certainly thought of nothing of this presence and dismissed it truly as a passing thought of the blatant evident of it all weren't handed over to him in the shadows of the kitchen. His kitchen was so placed that it was both shrouded by the sun's light and shadowed from it, such that he could see as he stepped in from the counter under the sun's glow, the deflecting presence growing as he stepped into the kitchen, into the shadow of the electric bulbs. He could feel the cool air in the summer heat touching his bare arms, he could sense the presence that let goosebumps raise upon his body and he could see as he turned slowly towards the refrigerator placed beyond him, the tiny feet, ebony and rawboned, stepping away and away as if scared of getting caught.
And Joonghyuk's eyes twitched at that.
Oh if someone was that afraid of getting caught, they should have thought better before messing with Joonghyuk of all.
Because now, that Joonghyuk knew exactly who it was, he would hardly let him pass by. And so he ran with all he had, determined to catch that fool right then, playing a much needed halt to this stupid game,knowing now how much it was shadows that presence loved, determined to bring that face to light.
Just you wait…
He raced through the stairs, jumping down two at a time, knowing well the area was definitely devoid of the sun's light even though it was scorching outside.
He was panting, his chest burning with burning air, his shirt taut against his sweating body as he reached the closed doors of the room, feeling the presence around him again. Although now, the presence felt so small, and Joonghyuk halted in his tracks, catching the plaint notes, the way it felt scared to talk.
But he wasn't, he decided, here to talk. Not until he could find the presence. And when he felt the presence behind him shifting upon soft steps, ready to run away any time, Joonghyuk whipped his head, a glare against the seemingly transparent air, where he felt the presence most profound and he lurched without a second thought, probably having heard a soft gasp as the presence tried to shift, before Joonghyuk's hands caught, around his neck, pinning him to the wall, until he came into view again.
With the sun's passing hours, the light waving away, fading into the dusk, Joonghyuk's heart shook at what he had found, at whom he had caught.
There he stood, frozen in place and in his grasp was the man whose endless beauty yesterday he had seen shining through the picture in that room. There he stood with heart stuck in his throat for whatever damn reason he was yet not ready to seek, as his eyes took in the ghostly presence he could touch. He could touch, he could touch and he could feel and he could feel the gasp that was strained against that throat, that throat he found, marked with the indubitable marks of the ropes strangling his throat. And Joonghyuk loosened his grasp but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the marks laying heavy on the throat, too pale, too soft, too alive under his touch. It wouldn't feel, feel any different than any other being he ever had the chance to touch, who were alive. And he would have been convinced he was being pranked if it wasn't for the almost translucent boyd of this man, the white shirt clinging to his chest, heaving with each breath, or the lack of it, he took perhaps a remaining habit of fear of humans.
And Joonghyuk would have said something, done something if it weren't for his eyes tracing down every single gasp that tore past those sweet lips, red and gentle, like he had never seen before and if it wasn't for those cheeks, painted with the colours of the fading sun, and if it wasn't for those eyes he found stuck with his.
He would have said something for real if it weren't for the amount of things that seemed to tumble out of him but they all failed. Everything else faded as he took in the man, staring at him with wide eyes, no hint of fear visible in those eyes, his hands perhaps wishing to grab at Joonghyuk's own, falling back to his sides, his mouth open forever in a gasp, and he was stuck to the wall with questions of his own, he didn't dare ask.
And it was Joonghyuk's turn to stare, with whatever it was his heart felt, at the man who seemed to crumble once more before the weight of a man who was alive having found him, having seen him, having touched him and both seemed to ask why. But none knew the answer. And so it was Joonghyuk's turn to do something again, pulling away ever so gently from the man, hoping he wouldn't try to run now that his hand was no longer around him, now that Joonghyuk stepped away from him, away and away so that he could finally took in the man, scrawny as he had been in the decade gone by, ebony and pale and somehow translucent too under the sun's glow but as the moon came up, he looked more and more like the picture hung on the wall. He looked more like the actor who died and less like the shell of what was left. He looked, to Joonghyuk, like he would have looked to any other fan and admirer of his, beautiful even in his death. And Joonghyuk was, he had to accept with a moaning heart, never a fan of his. And yet here he was aching to somehow wipe that lonely look of regret from this star filled eyes, about which Sangah had talked numerous times before. But before everything else, he wished to know many, many things from…
“....Kim Dokja.”