round 06, challenge five: entry #04
Title: interlude
Fandom and Pairing: Infinite; Sungyeol/Sungjong, Myungsoo/Sungjong
Rating: G
Word Count: 854
Prompt/s Used: poem
Summary: Sungyeol isn't careful enough with Sungjong's memories
Warnings: n/a
Imagine a warehouse packed with cardboard boxes, some with dented corners and other newer ones, still smooth and firm to the touch. They are always arranged with military precision, but it depends on the person whether it’s in straight-line grids or grouped in small clusters according to their labels. The day I broke my arm. First day of work. Do not open.
You know how people tend to wax lyrical about how fragile the human mind is? Well, they're not wrong because the mind is an empty warehouse and they’re filled with cardboard boxes that dent when you press down too hard. Be very careful - those are your memories.
I wasn’t careful enough with Lee Sungjong’s memories.
I find him standing in front of the closet, doors flung wide open. He is staring at the three shirts hanging forlornly in there.
“Hey,” I say, leaning against the doorframe and he turns to look at me, an easy smile replacing his knotted eyebrows.
“Hyung,” he says. “Which one do you think looks best on me?”
I shrug even though I have an inkling. “Choose the colour you like the most. Your favourite colour,” I say cautiously.
Sungjong sighs, and it’s not just a loud exhalation of breath because he sighs with his entire body: he rolls his eyes and he wriggles his shoulders around slightly and I want to laugh because he’s acting like a nine-year-old brat. I catch myself in time, because perhaps that is where he is at, in terms of catching up with the memories of his own life.
“You know I can’t remember my favourite colour. Pick one for me.”
“Pink,” I say automatically, because it’s my own favourite colour.
The shirt is more light crimson than a cotton-candy pink. As I help button up Sungjong’s collar, he smiles at me and I can’t stop the words because I say, “You look really good,” and he just giggles. It's light, but it rings in my ears.
If he detects the badly concealed yearning in my voice, it does not show in his eyes.
Kim Myungsoo,
I am writing this to you because I have made a terrible mistake. I can’t tell you my full name, not because I don’t want you to find me, but in case you decide to come for Sungjong. Sungjong is with me because the Pull went wrong, and I was fired from Radiance Enterprises-don’t try to go to them for my address, because they will not give it to you. They would have wiped my records from their system.
Sungjong can’t remember anything, but I promise to do my best to make him remember: remember you and remember how he was and then I’ll send him back home, back to you. Until now, it’s too dangerous for you to see him. Please don’t worry too much; I know how to take care of him.
I’m so sorry.
LSY.
They (the companies; mine was Radiance Enterprises) call it a Pull.
I am-no, was an Extractor, someone who reaches into your head to remove the memories you do not want. It’s not difficult at all. All I do is enter the warehouse of your mind and slit open the cardboard boxes you do not wish to keep. You wake up, freed of those memories, right as I drop the surgical knife into the metal pan next to your reclining chair.
It’s 99.5% foolproof: that is, you will only lose what you paid for. You never think of being part of the 0.5% and I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t either.
I’m sure Sungjong thought so too.
It takes Sungjong several days to completely forget, and I know for sure the process is complete when I ask him, on the fifth day, if he knows who the person in the photograph is.
“Who?” he asks, blinking. Sungjong has pretty big eyes. I get stuck on the word ‘pretty’.
“Kim Myungsoo,” I reply.
He does not ask me to elaborate. I bite my tongue because I don't want to, but then I inhale and start talking because I know I have to.
"He is your--” I pause, because I don't know how to put it, not when Sungjong is looking at me like that: eyes wide open and lips parted and his gaze is saltwater to my rusting heart. "Friend. Best friend." Boyfriend.
I have it all planned out, and I know you want to know. This is what is going to happen: when Lee Sungjong comes to the clinic for his Pull, I am going to go inside his mind. I will remove what he came here for, some embarrassing memory something about dancing a girl group dance on stage in university, but I will not stop there. I am going to tear open every single cardboard box in his mind but I will not throw open the flaps. I’ll leave them close, so he will lose the memories gradually but quickly enough. I give it a week, max. You must be confused, why would I do such a thing to a complete stranger? He’s not a stranger, not exactly, because I do know I fell in love with him and I do know he has a boyfriend. Love makes you do really stupid things but most of the time, they’re harmless. Unfortunately, I am not harmless. But I digress. After I complete the Pull, while they keep him in observation but before they find out something has gone wrong, I will enter my own mind.
I will then destroy the box labeled, What really happened to Lee Sungjong.
Fandom and Pairing: Infinite; Sungyeol/Sungjong, Myungsoo/Sungjong
Rating: G
Word Count: 854
Prompt/s Used: poem
Summary: Sungyeol isn't careful enough with Sungjong's memories
Warnings: n/a
Imagine a warehouse packed with cardboard boxes, some with dented corners and other newer ones, still smooth and firm to the touch. They are always arranged with military precision, but it depends on the person whether it’s in straight-line grids or grouped in small clusters according to their labels. The day I broke my arm. First day of work. Do not open.
You know how people tend to wax lyrical about how fragile the human mind is? Well, they're not wrong because the mind is an empty warehouse and they’re filled with cardboard boxes that dent when you press down too hard. Be very careful - those are your memories.
I wasn’t careful enough with Lee Sungjong’s memories.
I find him standing in front of the closet, doors flung wide open. He is staring at the three shirts hanging forlornly in there.
“Hey,” I say, leaning against the doorframe and he turns to look at me, an easy smile replacing his knotted eyebrows.
“Hyung,” he says. “Which one do you think looks best on me?”
I shrug even though I have an inkling. “Choose the colour you like the most. Your favourite colour,” I say cautiously.
Sungjong sighs, and it’s not just a loud exhalation of breath because he sighs with his entire body: he rolls his eyes and he wriggles his shoulders around slightly and I want to laugh because he’s acting like a nine-year-old brat. I catch myself in time, because perhaps that is where he is at, in terms of catching up with the memories of his own life.
“You know I can’t remember my favourite colour. Pick one for me.”
“Pink,” I say automatically, because it’s my own favourite colour.
The shirt is more light crimson than a cotton-candy pink. As I help button up Sungjong’s collar, he smiles at me and I can’t stop the words because I say, “You look really good,” and he just giggles. It's light, but it rings in my ears.
If he detects the badly concealed yearning in my voice, it does not show in his eyes.
Kim Myungsoo,
I am writing this to you because I have made a terrible mistake. I can’t tell you my full name, not because I don’t want you to find me, but in case you decide to come for Sungjong. Sungjong is with me because the Pull went wrong, and I was fired from Radiance Enterprises-don’t try to go to them for my address, because they will not give it to you. They would have wiped my records from their system.
Sungjong can’t remember anything, but I promise to do my best to make him remember: remember you and remember how he was and then I’ll send him back home, back to you. Until now, it’s too dangerous for you to see him. Please don’t worry too much; I know how to take care of him.
I’m so sorry.
LSY.
They (the companies; mine was Radiance Enterprises) call it a Pull.
I am-no, was an Extractor, someone who reaches into your head to remove the memories you do not want. It’s not difficult at all. All I do is enter the warehouse of your mind and slit open the cardboard boxes you do not wish to keep. You wake up, freed of those memories, right as I drop the surgical knife into the metal pan next to your reclining chair.
It’s 99.5% foolproof: that is, you will only lose what you paid for. You never think of being part of the 0.5% and I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t either.
I’m sure Sungjong thought so too.
It takes Sungjong several days to completely forget, and I know for sure the process is complete when I ask him, on the fifth day, if he knows who the person in the photograph is.
“Who?” he asks, blinking. Sungjong has pretty big eyes. I get stuck on the word ‘pretty’.
“Kim Myungsoo,” I reply.
He does not ask me to elaborate. I bite my tongue because I don't want to, but then I inhale and start talking because I know I have to.
"He is your--” I pause, because I don't know how to put it, not when Sungjong is looking at me like that: eyes wide open and lips parted and his gaze is saltwater to my rusting heart. "Friend. Best friend." Boyfriend.
I have it all planned out, and I know you want to know. This is what is going to happen: when Lee Sungjong comes to the clinic for his Pull, I am going to go inside his mind. I will remove what he came here for, some embarrassing memory something about dancing a girl group dance on stage in university, but I will not stop there. I am going to tear open every single cardboard box in his mind but I will not throw open the flaps. I’ll leave them close, so he will lose the memories gradually but quickly enough. I give it a week, max. You must be confused, why would I do such a thing to a complete stranger? He’s not a stranger, not exactly, because I do know I fell in love with him and I do know he has a boyfriend. Love makes you do really stupid things but most of the time, they’re harmless. Unfortunately, I am not harmless. But I digress. After I complete the Pull, while they keep him in observation but before they find out something has gone wrong, I will enter my own mind.
I will then destroy the box labeled, What really happened to Lee Sungjong.