𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 // 𝐟𝐟

We Are The Same, Jong-Woo, Darling

« We're from the same kind, you and I. » that's what Moon-Jo told Jong-Woo, on one of the late night talks they had on the rooftop. Jong-Woo always found that the handsome young man was kind of off. A psychopath. A lunatic. How could they be the same? Frustrated, he answered back:
« Sir, I really don't think we have anything to do with each other. Our personality traits are not the same. What we share in common, is only our love for crime fiction. »
The long-sleeved shirt in summer man glanced at him, then smirked.
« I don't think it is so, room 303. »
He approached his face near the young man's. Jong-Woo clenched his fists, and frowned. Moon-Jo glared at him once again, then continued:
« We are of the same kind. We look like normal people on the outside, merry, calm and serene... But deep inside, we have a murderous spirit. » He put his fingers under Jong-Woo's chin, lifting his face upwards, which made the young man's face distord by anger, and disgust.
« See, these dazzling eyes you're throwing at me? They're shining like knife shine in the moonlight. Deep inside you, you have this funny feeling that you just can't shake. I see it in your eyes. » The man let go of his neighbour's chin, and straightened his back. He turned, facing the city. He passed his hand in his soft, black hair, then turned back to Jong-U. The young man was boiling with rage, he was practically trembling!
« Hey, Jong-woo. I know you want to scream, I know you want to kill me. Not only me— but many other people too. I understand how you feel. »
The long sleeved shirt' man opened a can of beer, and hand it to his young neighbour. Jong-Woo didn't seem near to take it from him, so Moon-Jo grabbed his hand, and put the can in it. He then opened another one for himself, before continuing:
« I really like you a lot. The more I see you, the more I think we're alike. You don't rea—»
Jong-Woo couldn't hold himself back anymore. He shouted:
« How many times shall I tell you... THAT WE ARE NOT ALIKE! »
Aggressively, he threw the beer can. It crashed near the man's feet. Moon-Jo gave a look at it, at the foamy, sparkling liquid that was chiseling the ground to his shoes. Again, he smirked. His smile revealed not only his front teeth, but also, his wrong state of mind. He threw his head back, and the ugly smirk that deformed his face became, little by little, a not so subtle laugh. To him, this was the funniest joke ever. Jong-Woo swallowed his saliva with difficulty, then pinched his lips. Hands on his hips, he made a step towards the tall man. Standing at some inches away from him, he gazed up, meeting his eyes.
« I don't think you understand what I mean. I don't wanna hang out with you. I think you're a crazy lunatic person. You're out of your mind. I'm not your friend, once for all! » His voice felt like a snake's shrill hiss.
Once that said, he leaned back, breathing heavily. Far from seeming displeased, the long sleeved shirt in summer man put his hand on Jong-Woo's shoulder. His face was all lit up. Euphorically, he exclaimed:
« Yes, yes! This is what you should do, Jong-Woo! Don't hold yourself, don't bottle your emotions! » The man's left hand grabbed the young man's arm, while his right one glided from his shoulder to his short sleeve. He squeezed his neighbour's arms, full with excitement. His voice got louder and louder as he spoke:
« You want to curse? Feel free to curse. You want to fight? Feel free to fight! You want to hurt? Feel free to hurt! You want to kill? Feel free to do so! »
Jong-Woo lifted his eyebrows up, and his mouth opened. The man opened wide his arms, and cried:
« Jong-Woo! Let the poison flow down your veins! I'll be here to help you! »
Terror, pure terror caught Jong-Woo up. His legs were shaking. His hands turned cold. His breathe was loud. Moon-Jo jumped on the thin metal handrail. The sparkling eyes of his neighbour met his. His horrid crazy smile was incised in his mind. The voice of his resonated in the young innocent man's soul:
« SO, JONG-WOO. WOULD YOU JOIN ME, TO PERFORM THE MOST SUBLIME ART OF ALL?! »