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" Frida and Diego Rivera (1931)" a wedding portrait created by famous Mexican artist, Frida Kahlo, to commemorate the marriage of her and her ex-husband Diego Rivera, a fellow Mexican artist.
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IF GOD IS the sovereign of our fate, what then is free will? If illusions are mere figments of delirious thought, how do they themselves exist? If empty lies and empty promises are intangible objects that fingertips would never graze, why was Jung Wooyoung so full of them? Many aspects of life are oxymorons in nature; they are the loopholes between thread-barren realities and fever dreams. Therefore, the hollowness that contrived Wooyoung's very being was justified as a necessary paradox — not a senseless contradiction.
"Have you been flossing?"
"Yep, just like you told me."
"Don't lie to me, Wooyoung."
"Alright you got me," his deceit was masked by an American smile — mass manufactured and synthetic in its creation. "Say, Yeeun, after this how about we grab lunch? Some ramen maybe?"
"It's Ms. Jang to you. And I'm working, if you haven't noticed." Yeeun's tone was light in her rebuttal, her musing of his sly innuendo told Wooyoung that she wanted nothing more than to be under his bedsheets of slaughtered daughters and pre-dawn escapades.
"Well, Ms. Jang, that's never stopped you before." Wooyoung only knew to speak in silver tongues, though those on the receiving end never seemed to mind his siren song, Yeeun being one of them.
"I'm sure San wouldn't like that."
"Oh, Yeeun." He caught her chin in the clasp of his index and thumb while he fastened a hand around her waist. "You know San doesn't control my life, sweetheart. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want without his jurisdiction." It was surprising, even to Wooyoung himself, that he didn't need to wear braces, because his mouth surely deserved to be locked behind bars.
There was something so compellingly dangerous about his jailbird narrative that enticed people — the ecstasy of a misfit's misguided misgivings invigorated them, excited them. That's why those sexually involved with Wooyoung were empathetic narcissists who felt the impulsive need to "save" him, or those who simply wanted to taste the static of his diesel-fulled tongue.
Whatever their intent may be, Wooyoung didn't care, as long as he got what he wanted.
Perhaps, his mother was to blame for how he came to be since she did attempt to drown him upon his birth. The doctors thought it was the postpartum going to her head, but there was something personal about killing with a knife than a gun, even more so with bare hands.
He'd like to think her vendetta was driven by the fact that his father pledged his allegiance to the unfaithful and forsook her, leaving her to bare an unwanted child. After what felt like a millennium of minute-less melancholia, she took her life in the same way she tried to take his — a fate befitting for an imitator of La Llorona ².
