In which police officer Jeon Jeongguk was allocated to a suicide case of a boy named Kim Taehyung. A case that left no evidence, proof, or suspicions. How will Jeongguk solve the suicide of Taehyung?
"We're the lovers of the night
Blooms under the t...
What will you do when the supposed funny game is breaking your nerves? What will you do if the lame joke turns out to be some dark reality? You will snap out, right? In any way? Yes. But what if you loved something too much that you can't let it go when it's the only right thing to do? Imagine you're on the verge of breaking down but the only thing working in your life is your pathetic destiny. Long story short, it's all a mess. A pure catastrophe. A perfect disaster.
One time, it all felt like a dream, another time, it bites him back, reminding him how pitiful his life is. Jeon Jeongguk, a fan of illegal things, a dreamy bunny, and I-live-for-fantasy man couldn't blink when it all happened. He stood there in the dark hallway, head straight, feet strongly pressed like the earth is about to combust and eyes gazing into stars. Hands- his hand holding a slender waist, while a pair of arms circled his neck as he stood there. One of his hands covering the other male's mouth, resisting him from screaming. His eyes, staring at that deep mint green ocean, searching for someone he knew.
This might be a joke, right? Yes. It should be. Because the moment he realized his pendant was gone, Jeongguk paused breathing. His heart clenching and veins making a knot to stop the blood from flowing and whatever reason left to be alive was stolen from him. Why? It's not only because of the pendant.
The man who was melting with his dance steps with the beautiful violin melody, the hands stretching and creating an ethereal pose, the tiptoes giving it the perfection, the head that thrown back and eyes that are closed reminded him a white swan, right? Jeongguk does clearly remember the sight. And when the dancer spins around under the dim light, he skipped a beat. This is not a joke, neither a stupid dream nor an amateur fantasy.
He can tell who's that even his eyes closed. Oh, the perfect dance moves. The passion oozing from fingertips to tiptoes. The expression captures every violin note while hitting his entire nerves on the body. The one and only, Park Jimin.
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Yes. It's Park Jimin. Jeongguk was mesmerized. Not only by the dance moves but by the violin too. One thing was sure. The things in front of his eyes aren't happening in any parallel universe now. He's here, in front of Park Jimin and it's all real. Once again, he was being fooled, by destiny, by words, by people, by Taehyung. Yeah. It hurts, isn't it?
The violin died down as Jeongguk walked backward. His steps weren't heavy. His body wasn't trembling. His eyes were not scared of anyone or anything. Jeongguk hides in the dark hallways breathing ever so calmly. There's no way out. The best is facing this. And putting an end to this bloody game.
He was hiding, without making any noise. It was Jimin who came out of the room first. The male was too into his tiredness and blabbering something, he didn't notice Jeongguk. Well, that's so Jimin. Living in his little mochi land.
But when the door closed and it would probably be the artist, Jeongguk stiffened. His body tightening and muscles flexing. The strawberry scent was about to pass him, he yanked the wrist of the male and pinned him to the wall. It was a sudden instinct. But when the other's mint green eyes digging holes in him, Jeongguk snapped. He let go of the tight hold around the wrist but moved to hold on to the waist. The male was shocked. Stunned and angry.
