Notes

December 8th, 2017 (pt. 1)

The raw desperation in her heart was now the only thing that kept her upright. She was tired, malnourished, dehydrated, and most of all, depressed.

This was the day. If she was wrong; if she didn't find him; it was done. This was gameover. Irene felt utterly defeated. She'd failed him. The only other guy she's ever felt something for would die, just like the first guy.

It hurt. The pain that suffused her very being seemed to rise in her esophagus, choking her until she couldn't breathe. Hoseok had died because of her.

And people were right. History does repeat itself.

Because now, at the hands of the same man, from the same cause, Yoongi would die too.

Her eyes were glazed over, and she felt dead. She was breathing, yet she wasn't living. She could see, but nothing was as vivid. Everything was overrun with grief she hadn't allowed herself to express previously.

Her parents had died. She didn't cry.

Hoseok died. There was no time to mourn.

However, now, all the anger, the grief, and the maddening loneliness seemed to crash down all at once.

Her hand flew over her mouth as she stifled a pain filled sob. Irene staggered, catching herself on the large door of an abandoned warehouse.

Alarmed voices began to shout loudly, shuffling being heard before silence once again ensued.

Someone was in there. That realization made her bruised heart soar, but she couldn't get her hopes up. It's probably some Daegu gang staking out until the authorities stopped breathing down their necks. She didn't have that kind of dumb luck.

At least she thought so until she heard an anguished cry come from inside, and a cruel laugh follow.

She'd found them, but it sounded like she was too late.