Then, There Was Aine ✅

First Movement

⚠️ Warning:  Self-harm, death.

Jaejoon wanted to die.

He examined the bottle of whiskey in his hand and took one more swig for good measure. In the last half hour, he had managed to drink half of its content. That's why when he tried to put it down, it clattered on the floor.

"Good bye, my friend, it's hard to die," he sang off-key as he watched the amber-colored liquid seep into the carpet.

When that was done, he slid down his massive tub until warm water lapped against his chin. With every move, his fully clothed body squelched and caused bubbles to rise to the surface.

What a fucking joke!

A strangled laugh escaped from his lips. The harsh sound felt out of place amidst the luxurious ambiance of the bathroom that had probably been built with honeymooners in mind. The irony of his situation triggered even more hilarity. Ah, it had been awhile since he had laughed like that. But what did it matter? Inside, he still felt hollow.

The thought wiped the smile from his face. He sighed in frustration then lowered his head into the water. There, he remained, struggling to stay under, until the lack of oxygen forced him to resurface. He emerged sputtering, his chest in pain. Just as he had thought, he couldn't do it on his own.

To fall asleep - that was what he needed. That, and for the alcohol to do its work.

He let the cold porcelain touch his nape and looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall in front of him. The numbers swam before his eyes so that he couldn't tell what time it was. His head felt too heavy as it flooded with memories that he had chosen to forget. While his mind whirled, he closed his eyes and waited for death to come knocking.

Flashes of his childhood appeared as if in a dream. The pictures were hazy and yet, so familiar.

Despite growing up in an orphanage, he had never thought that his childhood was lacking. He remembered the friends that he had played with all day and the delicious meals prepared by the nuns who ran the place. It was perfect; he was carefree. When his friends left him one by one, he didn't really mind. He knew that they went to better places and that he, too, would eventually find a place of his own.

Then came the day of his eighth birthday. That was when two music professors who couldn't conceive their own child came and took him home. There, he discovered his one true passion – music. From the time he learned how to play the piano until he started composing his own songs, music came to him as easily as the air that he was breathing. Some days, his mind was filled with so many melodies that he had to stop whatever he was doing and simply give in.

Music led to his discovery and eventually, his stardom. He loved the spotlight as much as he loved his music. And that was where the problem began because the muse of music and the goddess of fame didn't necessarily see eye to eye. Like jealous lovers, each one competed for his attention. He had to appease one or the other and more often than not, he chose fame.

Little did he know that fame came with a price. To stay on top, he had to exchange his soul a little at time for constant adulation. Yet at the height of his success, he found that music had deserted him for one needed a voice in order to make a sound. Where his mind once buzzed with notes existed silence. It was the kind that was deafening because its absence echoed endlessly until he had to resort to drugs to dull its ringing.

The thing about vice, though, was that it was an even more jealous lover. Once it had lured you into its clutches, it transforms you into its pawn, willing to heed to its every whim at the cost of everything else. And that was how he lost everything: his music, his fame, and his family. That was why he thought that it was only fitting that he also lose his life.

That was the punishment he deserved.

A knock on the door managed to register in his brain. He sighed with relief.

Death has finally arrived.

His thoughts were now stuck in molasses as he struggled to get them out.

I want to see what death looks like, was the last thought that escaped before he found himself sinking slowly, the water welcoming him back into its fold.

Then, there was darkness.