In Alleyways With Cigars And Flowers | Jaesoo

In alleyways with cigars and flowers

     When the world grows into the desert of endless sand, so pitifully desolate, our paths of eventual destiny colors gray and dreams become murky. There's no bling in the stars that once dominated the dreamland of Las vegas. It was those times, those days, that Kim Jisoo is in dire need of the earthly fire to it blow all away.

It rains today, she thinks to herself. A hand fills a pocket of her thick trench coat and her beret sleeps on her crown. The other fingers wrap around the brown box.

Booze, cigars, and money...

She waves towards one of the crewmembers nearby, sticking out a sore thumb towards the exit of the theatre. "A break," nearly a whisper she speaks, leaving at once even as the staff utters a fleeting single syllable.

She steps outside and into the rain, dense and harsh. No umbrella owned, it doesn't matter.

The streets are an unfamiliar sight to her eyes, it shouldn't be of any doubt as it had been the first time she's been here. No time, she rushes to the empty roofed part of a building.

The first thing that greets her is the foul smell of trash, the burning marks of graffiti, and throw away clothes that look like they've only been worn once.

Finally, she leans back the bricked wall. Her back arched as she effortlessly pulls the brown metal box of Perdomo Champagne, a favorite. She lights it up and enjoys the first intake with her eyes closed, she lets it stay a little longer in her lungs before exhaling deeply. The smoke joins the misty fog that's occurred in the air.

It's been long since she's opened her eyes, and when they do all they're able to see is the petité café down the street. Lit a beautiful orange tone, welcoming with the bustles of those inside—Jisoo only sees silhouettes through the frosted glass.

Crossing her arms and wrinkling her nose, she takes another swing at the cigar. She peeks through one eye and catches a whiff of a scent she's come to familiarize herself with. She follows the object in question and sees it crossing the road and down the café, sitting prettily at one of the tables outside.

There's a certain giddiness that surrounds the object, emanated not from within them but of those who hold onto it.

Lily of the Valley. Yes, those were what they're called. She's always loved those flowers. So pretty.

It doesn't take her too long to notice those who held onto them. They were pretty too, she takes note as she does another long shot.

The person releases energy all around, hands holding on the flowers as if they were the savior. Eyes twinkling under little sunlight, and yet, she sees the sparkle in them and it beats all the gems she'd wear and ever get to wear. And dimples, their dimples were cute.

His phone is never left unattended, the flowers seem freshly plucked from the dewy green meadows. She suspects, he must be waiting for a date...

The melodic pattern ends with its last drop, leaving only the mist it created for those who experienced it.

Her stogy is down to its last bits and the inevitable doom to it has come. She throws it to the trashbin that's been giving her horrors the whole ride. She lifts her head and trudges back to the theatre.

Unknowingly, she catches her last glimpse of the flowers and their holder. It's been 20 minutes since she's last look, they remain the same although it's evident one of three traits he held before has dissipated.

Jisoo shrugs, shoving her freezing, free hands in her trench coat until she reaches the theatre. Nose still wrinkling from the stench of the alleyway. And thoughts attached to the pretty flowers (the pretty holder).