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Have you ever felt the awakening of a purely primitive and totally wild feeling just by listening to a song? Have you seen thousands of images pass through your head while you listen to it? ... Did you feel sensations run through your skin with just one melody?
For everyone in that place, under a dose of alcohol or drugs, they found their perfect song with which to fly, have fun, laugh, get into anyone's pants, etc. Everyone had their song, we all have our song ... everyone ... even him.
An ordinary bar with neon lighting that would put anyone out of their minds, with a logo of a skull with star eyes representing "fun beyond death" Next to it, the ruins of a bakery.
HeI knew that this person always came who, dragged to that place, had been forced to go. There was always the apathetic fed up with life, full of envy of his friends, who pretended to be interesting by refusing to drink or even dance. For him these people were the perfect prey, because who misses a listless when he disappears? Deep inside, all those people longed for death, only they were cowardly enough to give it themselves, he would help them and at the same time they would help him.
He wasn't like everyone else, he didn't have a schedule. Midnight was a total cliché, three in the morning everyone left as soon as they saw the open door. No, he wouldn't resort to any of that.
A song… that set him free and let him go play. It was a sensual tune that clung to her cold pores and made her star-shaped sunglasses shine.− courtesy of his best friend .
"Devil is in the detail."
His song is perfect.
Upon entering, he could recognize her immediately. Sitting at the bar, looking around in boredom.
He would arrive, stand by her side, ask her name, offer her something to drink, and they would talk for a while. He would give her the words that person always wanted to hear and that person would swear to have fallen in love with him. He would take her hand and very close to her ear he would say "Why don't we go somewhere else?" That person of course would accept. He would look at Son Dongju− his best friend−he would have to nod and sigh as he turned off the outside lights that illuminate that alley.
The next day the police would return and ask him what had happened in the alley that now looked like the vestige of a pool of blood.
Son Dongju would have to lie showing that his business was clean and that the eyes of the "victim" were not on his premises ... that he isnt an organ dealer.
And he isnt ... he is just a horrible friend.
He would go back inside, search behind the bottles for the star-shaped frame of his glasses with its broken lenses and traces of dried blood, and swear on his life to throw them away. But when he was in front of the garbage can, he would remember the day that place opened its doors ... the same day that its logo became a reality.
That story was long and complicated… Hwanwoong was complicated. Dongju hated him, he always hated him, going here and there with the air of a diva, fucking on whoever he wanted, wearing those stupid glasses loving them as his deity and proclaiming them his "good luck charm"
That night the star boy took a huge group of friends to brand new his little friend's place and as always all control had gotten out of hand.
An angry Dongju led him by the arm to the alley and reprimanded him for the disaster of his friends. Of course, Hwanwoong hated fighting, Hwanwoong hated overwhelming feelings, and he could never understand how his best friend could live in anger all his life. He try to make him laugh but it only infuriated the younger one more. He is under the influence of alcohol he dared to claim every thing that he considered horrible about his elder, he told him the worst.
Dongju, fed up, decided to leave but before Hwanwoong asked him for a cigarette, the smallest one threw it at him along with a lighter.
"Where are my glasses?"
"If you don't know where your shit is, how do you expect me to know?"
"You know my glasses are like my eyes"
"Your eyes I dont give a damn. "
"I choose you to help me find my eyes"
"Fuck you little star" - And he threw the glasses at him, Hwanwoong put them on.
"You are still the chosen, Dongju"
Just when he heard the lighter turn on, he noticed the gas leak and an explosion occurred in the place.
The glass of the glasses made Hwanwoong's always beautiful face fill with blood from losing his eyes and with them days later finally life.
Dongju remembers perfectly the first time he saw him again.
A beautiful girl on the floor of the alley with two holes where her eyes should be and with a face full of blood as she had once seen in a boy with pink hair. A bloody hand rested on his shoulder and an icy breath spoke with hate in his deep voice ...
"I told you that it would be you who would help me look for them"
...