speeding cars
speeding cars
1966 w, pg (krystal-centric, /taemin, /amber, /minho, /jessica)
krystal is running away.
( 1 )
When Taemin walks in on her she has christmas lights tangled around every limb of her body. They're all connected by this cheap, peeling green coated wire. He can see the red and blue electrical lines underneath and yellow and orange light bulbs contrasting from her raven hair. She turns her head slowly, pretending like his presence is unexpected and out of the blue. Her brows furrow with slight aggravation in the middle, waiting for him to ask the sole question of why? And on this day particularly, it's a long wait, and Krystal has never had that much patience. Taemin knows this because of all the time she's shoved him to the side when they're on line for food, and on purpose he decides that making a decision between a burger and a hot dog is life threatening. So, she beats him to the punch.
"Holidays are over." Her voice is snarky and foreboding, arms untangling themselves in the mess. He looks at her pointedly, lips pressing into a thin, compressed line. From her peripheral vision, Krystal can see the invisible wrinkles forming on Taemin's forehead. She'll recommend him a moisturizer for that later.
Taemin chooses his words carefully of course, aware of the fragile line he and Krystal walk after the whole incident with Sulli last month ( "I can't believe you made out with her and you don't even like her, do you?" ) But Krystal always goes on this rant on how she appreciates honesty and how she expects nothing less than that from anyone and how no one should expect her to grit her teeth with fallacies just to get ahead life. It it wasn't likely yesterday, it hell wasn't likely now. Taemin merely sighs, "Well, no shit sherlock."
It's quiet after that. A brooding moment for both of them. It's when Krystal only has the lights wrapped around her ankles that she decides to speak, "Why are you here?"
"Is there any reason I shouldn't be? I mean, it's your room."
There's too much irony in that statement, but it isn't like Taemin hasn't been here before. When f(x) got their dorm, it was agreed Krystal would room by herself. All of the members tried to play it off and pretend like it was because of her outrageous snoring and dysfunctional sleeping hours, but it mostly had to do with insomnia, crumpled papers, rearranging of books, and silently shed tears. But all of them had their own issues, so she didn't take it personally. So, Taemin is good company most of the time. He walks on air and no one ever notices that he's in her room at the ungodly hours of night. But they remain clothed while he sleeps in her bed, offering a friendly hug that is better than Victoria's. Better than Jessica's.
"Krystal, why are you taking down the christmas lights? And why is your mascara smudged?" He asks pointedly after a final beating of the bush. For a minute she looks panicked; most likely the concern over her physical appearance. Krystal's hand instinctively reaches up and touches the deep eye bag. When her hand withdraws, she finds coal black smeared on her finger.
"I've been crying," Is her nonchalant response that causes a silent explosion from Taemin. He continues to stare, wondering.
When the last of the christmas lights are shoved off to the side, she pulls her knees up to her chin. She's so close to eating them.
"I'm running away."
( 2 )
Amber walks into Krystal's room uninvited but on the verge of tears. It's something about how she doesn't understand Korean and how no one understands and how only Krystal ever will because she can speak english. Krystal is still baffled on how a language can keep two people so closely connected and able to breathe, it's amazing really, and she's tried to compare it to quantum physics and gravity, her relationship with Amber, but it never really works. This isn't the first time it's happened, just like the many other breakdowns in this dorm, but Amber's are rare. Krystal is sitting on her bed and Amber is too blinded by tears that she doesn't notice the bare walls. But, she does notice the lack of color on Krystal's lips, and it occurs to her that she isn't wearing make up.
Amber sniffles a bit, the plaid cuffs of her shirt wiping away bittersweet tears. Krystal could cry too - she could, but she won't. Amber steps closer and sits on the foot of her bed, shifting because of her too tight yet baggy jeans that constrict the tomboy personality that SM didn't provide, but exploited. Amber already knows what's happening, she's always been smart. The bareness and packed bags in the corner is a clear indication. Amber just glares for a moment, maybe two, and then huffs, "You can't leave me, Krystal."
Krystal's heart hurts because she know she can't, but she has too. Krystal replies in korean because she's so angry and so confused, just like Amber is, and she grabs the other girl's wrist. Amber is merely hurt when she realizes that Krystal is Krystal, acting irrational and stubborn, and she waits for something to be said that she can understand clearly (because everything implied is too blurry and too hurtful, it just sucks.)
"I'm going to leave and you can't stop me."
Amber shakes her head, "You were so confident in thinking I'd make you stay."
Krystal's breathing hitches and she looks down. Amber isn't going to make her stay, she knows that Krystal has to leave too. Everyone knows it, because if she doesn't leave now, she never will. She'll become a figment and she won't exist - a ghost, a cultivation of everything lost, and it would still be Krystal. She wouldn't allow that.
"You're still going to be my girl, you know that, right Krystal? My American girl."
Krystal closes her eyes, unsure of what she means, but she says it anyways, "Amber, my real name is Soojung."
She speaks the language, but she could never heal Amber's homesick heart.
( 3 )
Around Minho, Krystal feels like a grand clock: pretty to look at, but he never reaches out to touch. She figures he's afraid to be involved with someone so drastic and over dramatic. God forbid her for saying this, but she's too misunderstood by things like that. A shot down cliche that Krystal doesn't really want to be apart of, but it's true. So he continues to stare at her, wondering why they are standing so close but neither of them have ever felt farther. Minho rubs his new athletic sneakers against the pavement roughly, in the back of his mind knowing he could easily get another pair with a smile or a lack of his lips. Krystal waits for him to say something, exhausted of pulling and not being pushed. She was always dragging him and she could see the scratches forming on his forearms from it. Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, as if to hide his heart.
"Taemin told me," Is what he decides to say first. It's a safe, a normal Minho like move. Physically, he was an animal, ready to burst into action. Emotionally, he was an innocent child, too scared to take a blame. So habitually, Taemin's name comes out first. Krystal merely shrugs, knowing she didn't really expect anything but that. Taemin was a snitch to his hyungs, a moral obligation! he always proclaimed. Krystal looks at him, her eyes responding with the obvious "yeah." And it's his turn to move his next pawn, wondering if he would be able to conquer the queen. Minho looks thoughtful, lips pursing, and Krystal notices how deep his eyes are. She'll miss them, she knows she will - even if she doesn't want too. They're deep but hollow and no longer the eyes that she wants to look at. Minho thinks Krystal has eyes like saucers and this pearl smile that's hidden because he doesn't remember the last time he saw it - if he ever really has in the first place.
Krystal feels herself ticking away, fading away, not wanting to be here or see him or feel him, not like months ago when they made these pity promises of forever that they knew they weren't going to keep. So in her pocket, she crossed her fingers tighter than the bracelet around her wrist, and she knows Minho did too. She told him too. But it sounded nice at the moment, and then their time was up. Their time is now.
"I'm going to miss you."
Krystal feels herself choke on something a little, words that she shouldn't say - but they come out anyways.
"You can make me stay, you can just ask me .. to stay. I won't promise that I will stay, I won't stay, but I'll come back. For you. For us."
Minho looks down at his feet and Krystal can make out the white of his knuckles through the rips in his jeans. She closes her own eyes and waits, teetering on the edge. She's waiting for him to save her, she's waiting for him to push her - and he just holds her still. He reaches out and his fingers touch her forearm. Soft and frail, and he just nods his head.
They both know she needs to go, just like everyone else, just because she isn't supposed to stay. She isn't allowed to stay.
"Just come back, okay?"
And this time she promises she will, and all ten of their fingers are bared and uncrossed.
( 0 )
They are ghosts.
( unreal and not there and placing their hands on her back with soft steps and whispers of persuasion that tell her to go just a little further, save yourself now, and you will be all right. )
They are ghosts, they is a she, she is a ghost, and Jessica is her name.
Jessica helps Krystal pack the last of her things, throwing in a striped shirt and faded cardigan. Jessica remembers that she can't break what isn't hers, but she can save it - she can save Krystal. Jessica zips up the bag along with her troubles, crushed beneath silver linings and padded material. It's almost like she can't breathe for her sister and Krystal tells her that she isn't real, that she never was, that she never will be - not in this world. "Are you talking about yourself?" Jessica's tone is weary and dark at the notion, knowing that she's already too in to get out. They compare it to getting stuck in that hole by their house that one time' fingernails scratching at the dirt in order to pull themselves up. Just the two of them, stuck, yet no one can drag them out. Krystal doesn't reply because she doesn't know who she's talking about: herself, Jessica, anyone else in sonyuhshidae or f(x) - everybody.
Krystal just sits up from her bed and looks at Jessica.
"All your stuff is ready," Jessica whispers, pointing at the one bag. That's how people ran away; they ran away with one bag, one dream, one hope - and Krystal only had the first thing, but she prayed it was enough.
"Jessica"
"Yeah."
Krystal frowns, "Come with me."
Jessica stares at her sister for what seems like forever - and then, forever ends. "Krystal, this is something you have to do by yourself. You know that, right?"
"I know, but - "
"I'll be waiting for you here, just like everyone else."
And after that, Krystal vanishes. There's a phone call along the road, but no other words that could have made her stay.
1966 w, pg (krystal-centric, /taemin, /amber, /minho, /jessica)
krystal is running away.
( 1 )
When Taemin walks in on her she has christmas lights tangled around every limb of her body. They're all connected by this cheap, peeling green coated wire. He can see the red and blue electrical lines underneath and yellow and orange light bulbs contrasting from her raven hair. She turns her head slowly, pretending like his presence is unexpected and out of the blue. Her brows furrow with slight aggravation in the middle, waiting for him to ask the sole question of why? And on this day particularly, it's a long wait, and Krystal has never had that much patience. Taemin knows this because of all the time she's shoved him to the side when they're on line for food, and on purpose he decides that making a decision between a burger and a hot dog is life threatening. So, she beats him to the punch.
"Holidays are over." Her voice is snarky and foreboding, arms untangling themselves in the mess. He looks at her pointedly, lips pressing into a thin, compressed line. From her peripheral vision, Krystal can see the invisible wrinkles forming on Taemin's forehead. She'll recommend him a moisturizer for that later.
Taemin chooses his words carefully of course, aware of the fragile line he and Krystal walk after the whole incident with Sulli last month ( "I can't believe you made out with her and you don't even like her, do you?" ) But Krystal always goes on this rant on how she appreciates honesty and how she expects nothing less than that from anyone and how no one should expect her to grit her teeth with fallacies just to get ahead life. It it wasn't likely yesterday, it hell wasn't likely now. Taemin merely sighs, "Well, no shit sherlock."
It's quiet after that. A brooding moment for both of them. It's when Krystal only has the lights wrapped around her ankles that she decides to speak, "Why are you here?"
"Is there any reason I shouldn't be? I mean, it's your room."
There's too much irony in that statement, but it isn't like Taemin hasn't been here before. When f(x) got their dorm, it was agreed Krystal would room by herself. All of the members tried to play it off and pretend like it was because of her outrageous snoring and dysfunctional sleeping hours, but it mostly had to do with insomnia, crumpled papers, rearranging of books, and silently shed tears. But all of them had their own issues, so she didn't take it personally. So, Taemin is good company most of the time. He walks on air and no one ever notices that he's in her room at the ungodly hours of night. But they remain clothed while he sleeps in her bed, offering a friendly hug that is better than Victoria's. Better than Jessica's.
"Krystal, why are you taking down the christmas lights? And why is your mascara smudged?" He asks pointedly after a final beating of the bush. For a minute she looks panicked; most likely the concern over her physical appearance. Krystal's hand instinctively reaches up and touches the deep eye bag. When her hand withdraws, she finds coal black smeared on her finger.
"I've been crying," Is her nonchalant response that causes a silent explosion from Taemin. He continues to stare, wondering.
When the last of the christmas lights are shoved off to the side, she pulls her knees up to her chin. She's so close to eating them.
"I'm running away."
( 2 )
Amber walks into Krystal's room uninvited but on the verge of tears. It's something about how she doesn't understand Korean and how no one understands and how only Krystal ever will because she can speak english. Krystal is still baffled on how a language can keep two people so closely connected and able to breathe, it's amazing really, and she's tried to compare it to quantum physics and gravity, her relationship with Amber, but it never really works. This isn't the first time it's happened, just like the many other breakdowns in this dorm, but Amber's are rare. Krystal is sitting on her bed and Amber is too blinded by tears that she doesn't notice the bare walls. But, she does notice the lack of color on Krystal's lips, and it occurs to her that she isn't wearing make up.
Amber sniffles a bit, the plaid cuffs of her shirt wiping away bittersweet tears. Krystal could cry too - she could, but she won't. Amber steps closer and sits on the foot of her bed, shifting because of her too tight yet baggy jeans that constrict the tomboy personality that SM didn't provide, but exploited. Amber already knows what's happening, she's always been smart. The bareness and packed bags in the corner is a clear indication. Amber just glares for a moment, maybe two, and then huffs, "You can't leave me, Krystal."
Krystal's heart hurts because she know she can't, but she has too. Krystal replies in korean because she's so angry and so confused, just like Amber is, and she grabs the other girl's wrist. Amber is merely hurt when she realizes that Krystal is Krystal, acting irrational and stubborn, and she waits for something to be said that she can understand clearly (because everything implied is too blurry and too hurtful, it just sucks.)
"I'm going to leave and you can't stop me."
Amber shakes her head, "You were so confident in thinking I'd make you stay."
Krystal's breathing hitches and she looks down. Amber isn't going to make her stay, she knows that Krystal has to leave too. Everyone knows it, because if she doesn't leave now, she never will. She'll become a figment and she won't exist - a ghost, a cultivation of everything lost, and it would still be Krystal. She wouldn't allow that.
"You're still going to be my girl, you know that, right Krystal? My American girl."
Krystal closes her eyes, unsure of what she means, but she says it anyways, "Amber, my real name is Soojung."
She speaks the language, but she could never heal Amber's homesick heart.
( 3 )
Around Minho, Krystal feels like a grand clock: pretty to look at, but he never reaches out to touch. She figures he's afraid to be involved with someone so drastic and over dramatic. God forbid her for saying this, but she's too misunderstood by things like that. A shot down cliche that Krystal doesn't really want to be apart of, but it's true. So he continues to stare at her, wondering why they are standing so close but neither of them have ever felt farther. Minho rubs his new athletic sneakers against the pavement roughly, in the back of his mind knowing he could easily get another pair with a smile or a lack of his lips. Krystal waits for him to say something, exhausted of pulling and not being pushed. She was always dragging him and she could see the scratches forming on his forearms from it. Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, as if to hide his heart.
"Taemin told me," Is what he decides to say first. It's a safe, a normal Minho like move. Physically, he was an animal, ready to burst into action. Emotionally, he was an innocent child, too scared to take a blame. So habitually, Taemin's name comes out first. Krystal merely shrugs, knowing she didn't really expect anything but that. Taemin was a snitch to his hyungs, a moral obligation! he always proclaimed. Krystal looks at him, her eyes responding with the obvious "yeah." And it's his turn to move his next pawn, wondering if he would be able to conquer the queen. Minho looks thoughtful, lips pursing, and Krystal notices how deep his eyes are. She'll miss them, she knows she will - even if she doesn't want too. They're deep but hollow and no longer the eyes that she wants to look at. Minho thinks Krystal has eyes like saucers and this pearl smile that's hidden because he doesn't remember the last time he saw it - if he ever really has in the first place.
Krystal feels herself ticking away, fading away, not wanting to be here or see him or feel him, not like months ago when they made these pity promises of forever that they knew they weren't going to keep. So in her pocket, she crossed her fingers tighter than the bracelet around her wrist, and she knows Minho did too. She told him too. But it sounded nice at the moment, and then their time was up. Their time is now.
"I'm going to miss you."
Krystal feels herself choke on something a little, words that she shouldn't say - but they come out anyways.
"You can make me stay, you can just ask me .. to stay. I won't promise that I will stay, I won't stay, but I'll come back. For you. For us."
Minho looks down at his feet and Krystal can make out the white of his knuckles through the rips in his jeans. She closes her own eyes and waits, teetering on the edge. She's waiting for him to save her, she's waiting for him to push her - and he just holds her still. He reaches out and his fingers touch her forearm. Soft and frail, and he just nods his head.
They both know she needs to go, just like everyone else, just because she isn't supposed to stay. She isn't allowed to stay.
"Just come back, okay?"
And this time she promises she will, and all ten of their fingers are bared and uncrossed.
( 0 )
They are ghosts.
( unreal and not there and placing their hands on her back with soft steps and whispers of persuasion that tell her to go just a little further, save yourself now, and you will be all right. )
They are ghosts, they is a she, she is a ghost, and Jessica is her name.
Jessica helps Krystal pack the last of her things, throwing in a striped shirt and faded cardigan. Jessica remembers that she can't break what isn't hers, but she can save it - she can save Krystal. Jessica zips up the bag along with her troubles, crushed beneath silver linings and padded material. It's almost like she can't breathe for her sister and Krystal tells her that she isn't real, that she never was, that she never will be - not in this world. "Are you talking about yourself?" Jessica's tone is weary and dark at the notion, knowing that she's already too in to get out. They compare it to getting stuck in that hole by their house that one time' fingernails scratching at the dirt in order to pull themselves up. Just the two of them, stuck, yet no one can drag them out. Krystal doesn't reply because she doesn't know who she's talking about: herself, Jessica, anyone else in sonyuhshidae or f(x) - everybody.
Krystal just sits up from her bed and looks at Jessica.
"All your stuff is ready," Jessica whispers, pointing at the one bag. That's how people ran away; they ran away with one bag, one dream, one hope - and Krystal only had the first thing, but she prayed it was enough.
"Jessica"
"Yeah."
Krystal frowns, "Come with me."
Jessica stares at her sister for what seems like forever - and then, forever ends. "Krystal, this is something you have to do by yourself. You know that, right?"
"I know, but - "
"I'll be waiting for you here, just like everyone else."
And after that, Krystal vanishes. There's a phone call along the road, but no other words that could have made her stay.