CHAPTER ONE      Hwa-Yeon's Perspective
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     Is silence truly and surely peace?

It seemed that a silent song always accompanied me, as though it were a soundtrack to each slowly passing day. It was inevitable.

     Peeking through the billowing lace curtains, of the olive coloured bus, a canvas of green greeted my eyes. Lavish pastureland scored the Earth. The calm Cheongsando sunlight masked the still land. From fluffy stalks with velvety cotton, enormous sets of beige coloured hay, fresh claret strawberry fields to fir tree forests, they were all embellished with the soft hues of the evening sunlight.

     I was going to yearn for the zephyr winds once I reached the city. How the lull of the Cheongsando winds freewheeled through every field.

It brought me back to the time I saw the Island for the first time.

The sunlight then manoeuvred onto my cheeks as I propped my chin upwards, against the palm of my hand, allowing the evening spotlight to grace my cheeks, my arm resting against my knees as embraced them. For a moment, my eyes zoned out onto the reflection of myself on the window, and I thought that I saw a child in her girlhood— at loss, curious and hollow.

At that time, I relied on the roads, each one was paved with certainty, each meander led to the centre of Cheongsando. I knew that wherever my feet treaded, it would lead me back to my Aunt's home. But, I am soon entering the loneliness of adulthood, where the roads I take are always fading in front of me, where it is so easy to turn back to the vivid roads that I have already taken.

I fluttered my eyes shut, letting the sun's shimmers soak my skin, its rays flickered like a kaleidoscope through the gaps of the emerald trees. With my soul feeling as though it were nestled within the frame of my body, I faded into a soundless nap after the bus entered the tunnel that exited Cheongsando Island.

I was unfamiliar with the roads as time went on, and the reality of it consumed me a little further as I found myself awaking from my sleep, my spine and shoulders feeling as though they had been kneaded with a dozen rough boulders. I made a brief note within my mind to remove my headphones the next time I slept. Pressing the volume button on the side of my grey coloured MP3 player, only several times, Set Me Free by Heo Hoy Kyung filled the rills of silence around me.

     Adjusting the straw bucket hat on my head, my sight cleared tinily as it stopped curtaining my eyes. Instead, my vision was met with my reflection on the window once again. A girl blinked right back, she was looked like a lone lamb facing a row of wolves on a marshy hill.

     The journey no longer felt familiar; the roads were full of unexpected turns. There was not the usual bends and curves that I always experienced. Everything was too smooth, without pot-holes. There were no interruptions from forest animals that might cross the road at the same time. I saw a glimpse of dread within my expression, but I did not let it shower my emotions. There was no use, since the city's bus station was nearing rapidly.

     Cheongsando Island seemed like a faraway memory, like the aftertaste on your tongue after eating some fairy floss. You remember placing it in your mouth, and how the sugary goodness looked like. Soft and fluffy. But it's gone within an instant before you get to feel its texture on your tongue, and only a gentle aftertaste is left. My time in Cheongsando felt like a healing. But as I was on the road to Seoul, the footsteps that I had left within Cheongsando began to fade into mere traces.

Before humming of the engine could lull me to sleep again, the wheels rolled to a halt, and so did the song that played in my headphones. Without missing a beat, commuters piled in front of the sliding doors, before the driver announced our arrival in Seoul.

"We have arrived in Seoul. It is 7:45PM and the weather is slightly cloudy. Please take the nearest exit and collect your luggage below. Thank you for travelling with us and we hope you will travel with us again soon."

"Move it." A passenger's elbow rammed against my forearm, "arg— fuck." Sounds of glass clinking against each other was clearly heard from their hand luggage.

Despite having a palm latched on the top of a seat to urge myself upwards, I fell back into my chair once more, with a scent of something bitter wafting into my direction. A rush of heat scorched my face. "I'm sorry— I'm sorry Sir." At my outburst, a tut tumbled from their lips.

My palm slipped away from its grip on the chair in front of me as it wavered slightly. I was thankful that I relented when my aunt offered to twist my hair into two loose plaits, for my brunette hair covered my flaming cheeks. Even though the person had exited the bus, their alcoholic scent did not help with the rising discomfort that settled within me. I sunk into my chair, and crossed my legs to suppress the knots that the pit of my stomach was contorted with.

Let's wait till everyone has left the bus. Mutually agreeing with my thoughts, my hands dragged my headphones back onto my ears as White Island by LEEHEESANG diluted the disquiet thoughts that I had.

"Excuse me Miss? The journey has ended," someone mumbled to themselves before stating, "around half an hour ago."

Their voice was like static as it touched my ears, since they were trying to adjust slowly to my current reality. Lifting my cheek away from my arms that were resting against the warm window, there were temporary lines engraved on my skin from resting on the ruffles of my sleeves. It seemed that I had failed to yield against sleeping on the bus again.

"Oh sorry," wiping at the sides of my lips instinctively, I pushed up my falling headset whilst scanning the area around me for my bag. I let go of my breath that I didn't know I was holding, as I managed to find the cream coloured, canvas backpack that slid under two seats in front of me, somehow.

     When a the driver didn't hear another syllable come from me, they stirred their ramyeon around their instant noodle cup hastily without noticing. They cleared their throat, a little too roughly, causing my shoulders to jolt up at the sound, my eyes growing as wide as saucers.

     "I sort of left to get some dinner," they brought the microwaveable cup next to their forced grin as a breezy chuckle fell from their lips, "I should have checked the bus before leaving, I'm so sorry—"

     "Oh no worries, uh—"

     Dropping their arm downwards, whilst fishing around inside the pocket inside their jacket, they handed me a crumpled up piece of paper. "Here." Shifting from foot to foot awkwardly, they shrugged gingerly with their lips drawing upwards, again, but this time it was done uneasily. "Treat yourself okay? This ones on me."

     When I couldn't meet their eyes completely, or take it into my hands, they slipped the slightly torn voucher with aqua blue colours into my fingers. Amongst the white lines, that were created from folding them so much, was the sentence: 70% off all lunchboxes at GS25.

     "Thank . . ." Wondering my eyes in front of me at last, the tears that nearly clouded in my vision, cleared when I blinked once more. The voice's source was no longer with me, as the driver had started to make their way inside the bus station. " . . . you." Clamping my palm shut, it trembled moderately as I stuffed the voucher into my cardigan pocket, keeping it safely buried inside. "Thank you Ma'am."

     Re-composing my slouching shoulders and nearing the entrance of the bus. There was a small, empty plastic mug taped to the dashboard, with a note placed on the side of it. Written in thick black pen, some capital letters stared back at her: TIPS. Swinging my backpack towards my side, I unzipped the front pocket and pulled out a neatly sewn, hand-made purse and poured the remainder of my pennies into the container, whilst leaving just enough for transport and food for the evening.

     "Thank you," I expressed my gratitude again, and I felt warm for moment, safe even. The corners of my lips moved upwards without harshness, at the valuable gift inside my pocket, that the good-natured driver had given me.

A muggy atmosphere enveloped my skin as I stepped off the bus, as a scent of old petrol drifted into my nose. In the near distance, horns echoed into the building, whilst the vehicles engines on the roads outside grumbled. It was as though they were the playing the bass clef to the sonata that the city made.

The playlist that I pre-downloaded had ended on my MP3 player, but I was too occupied in gathering my luggage to take notice. Ducking under the metal flap of the bus, that was opened all the way to give access for passengers to retrieve their things, I was able to locate one of my suitcases—

     Immediately, I squatted down next to the empty space under the bus, but the entire enclosure was vacant. The battery powered lights blinked on and off. Trudging in reverse, my footing nearly got entangled with my loose shoelaces, that must have come undone whilst sprinting towards the coach before travelling.

     Wildly searching, I was unfortunate, and there was no sign of my other suitcase. Resorting to a different plan, my pace picked up a trembling speed, as I turned around to face the main building. Sensing my body, the automatic doors of the bus station's entrance whooshed open.

     I couldn't find the driver that was allocated to our bus, so with urgency, my hair fanned behind me as I accelerated towards the large, dark blue sign with the letter: i. The clench I had around the handles of my first suitcase was firm but my hands grew slippery from fretfulness. The hopes of having a smooth journey was now proven to be a hoax, I only had to rely on Lady Tyche to nurse that back to health.

     Behind the plastic booth, an amiable lady, acknowledged my presence by proceeding with the words: "Hello, how can I help you today?"

     "Hello, Ma'am . . . I— How are you? Um, I just need help with an issue that I have with my travel." It all collapsed in one go, the phrases melding into chunks. When the lady began to nod slowly, I tried to explain further. The bustling noise of the commuters around me, faded in and out of my ears as my breaths felt like they were being suppressed— "So, uh, hang on let me uh . . . So I had two suitcases, but I could only um, find one. Is there any way you could check to see what . . . happened?"

     The lady's hand was then placed on top of her desk, the space between her eyebrows closed together as the rims of her eyes weakened it's strength, no longer firm but consoling. Clicking her tongue, "oh my, that's terrible. When did you get off the bus?"

     "Yes— Um, at around 8:15."

     "I see, I see. . . Well, I have to apologise, the CCTV's aren't working at the moment, so we are unable to help you with that. There's been a power cut recently, and on the day we got it back, we found that the fuses inside of them were burnt out."

     "Oh."

     "— Again, I apologise that I cannot do much for you. We are trying to upgrade the level of security in the near future. But, my best advice for you is to report this to the police station. May I ask where you are headed to after this, or what direction?"

    Delving into my jeans pocket, I took out my overly used notebook and pressed it against the glass that acted as a barrier between the front and the information desk. "I'm going here," my voice trailed away.

     "Right, right. The police station should be just a few yards away from that address. If you just tell them about the situation, like you told me, they will help you on the dot. We have informed them about the CCTV situation, so they're acting as our security team at the moment." When I didn't respond to that sentence in time, they continued, "we can email you if you'd like, in case we have any updates?"

     With my thumb still pressed against the notebook, my nails picked at the sides several times to slide it away from the surface of the glass window. When I managed to get it off, it fell in a heap by my old beaten Converses. "I don't uh, really have . . ." Nibbling on the inside of my mouth, "an email," I puckered my lips awkwardly at my answer.

     "That's not a problem. Do you have a phone number?" Their pen hovered above the page that was labelled: contacts list, it tapped against it to no particular beat as they awaited for my reply.

     Rotating my suitcase around mindlessly, I scratched the gap between my eyes. "No," the volume of my voice was decreased to zero, so it was only I that heard the answer.

     "Sorry?— It's alright. If you don't have either of those, I can mail you—"

     "No— I—"

"But—"

"On second thoughts— I don't think I really need that uh, suitcase. I'm sorry to have bothered you. I, uh, have to go." I could see their pen drop slowly from their palm. Internally, I winced at my behaviour. "Thank you Ma'am, and have a good night."

     With the map of Seoul in one hand, it fluttered ravingly from the dashing vehicles on the roads, the handle of my suitcase was in my other. My arms felt slightly empty without my other luggage, but I tried to busy my racing mind with trying to get to my destination. Struggling to balance a tattered notebook as well, where I kept all of my to-do-lists, I flicked through the pages till I got to the address that I needed to go to. Gently sighing, a relaxed smile pranced on my lips when I realised that the address number was not far from the numbers that the bus station had.

     Almost like a greeting, there were more than a dozen mellow lights that dotted against the towers and blocks of buildings. In Cheongsando, the pathways were the most hazardous once the sun started setting. Apart from my Aunt's home, most of the roads surrounding it had no lamps, or were lit with lamps that had slightly broken bulbs. But here, it the big city, there were countless of lights.

     If the skies weren't clouded with pollution, I would have mistaken them for stars.

     A great chill had started to crawl across my back as I neared the neighbourhood that the address was in. Even though it was foreign to my current self, I did not feel too out of place, as though I had left a mark on this place before. As the night grew graver, with the darkened skies above, no longer a cerulean blue, I began to wish that I had arrived in more than just a grey-blue sweater.

     Turning a corner, illuminating lights blinded the corner of my right eye for just a brief moment. There was a GS25 just in front of the building that I was supposed to be staying at, a park too— just laying my eyes upon it played scenarios inside of my head.

     But I wasn't the protagonist of each scene.

     So this is the life that I would have had.

     Of all the lanes and roads that I was used to, I was a lone traveller. With no hiking boots, or rucksack, or a map of my own, I only followed the forks and twists that the pathways planned out for me. There wasn't an escape from the earthquakes that I would encounter. That, was how I viewed the outcomes of each abrupt event that pelted towards me without notice.

     Events that changed the course of my journey in Life, with just a rust-covered hammer.

     This was the most colossal Earth tremor that I was experiencing.

     My mind trailed back to my aunt.

     The darkest shade of green boiled within my lungs, its acidic liquid drew blood within my throat as guilt created burns within my mouth.

     I shouldn't have thought of that.

     Folding the map of Seoul up, after finding myself fixating my eyes upon the red and blue lines for so long, I dragged my sleeve under my nose, and my eyes with my cold-bitten hands.

     My feet then dragged itself onwards. My body was used to journeying aimlessly, the paths were its oldest companion as my legs moved by muscle memory. Even though, I could not recall walking on that street before.

     After trekking around with my luggage, I was face-to-face with the apartment, that stood robustly just three yards in front of me. Once again, I let my sight be engaged with something for some time. I took in the building for what felt like almost the entire evening.

It was unlike the mossy home that my aunt had. There were no clambering, unruly veins that seeped into each fissure of the walls. Instead of the walls painted by a singular hand, the apartment's surface was fitted with slabs of black steel. Rather than an abundance of evergreen trees surrounding it, other housings neighboured it. There were only small patches of daisy fields on either side of the entrance, with store bought plant pots too.

     They were like a small segment of Cheongsando— a bucket load of wistfulness, dared to enter my being.

     "Excuse me."

     A deep voice brought my mind back to the present, my lips parted as my limbs tensed up from the unanticipated interruption. Gripping the handles of my suitcase and my backpack straps a little tighter, I didn't dare to face the person. Shuffling in reverse, tinily, the heels of my shoes made contact with the first step behind me, causing my shoulders to jolt.

     "Sorry Sir," bowing half-way, my teeth bit the inside of my cheek as my fingers scrunched and un-scrunched the hem of my sleeves repeatedly.

     "Sir— Sir?" They scoffed." "Me? A Sir?—" The pedestrian stumbled over their words at my apology. Perhaps they weren't a middle-aged man then. Great, it's the first day and I've already offended someone. God forbid they live near. "Whatever, it's okay."

     "I'm sorry."

     With my neck craned towards the ground, my sight consisted of their clean, seemingly trendy black and white sneakers. I squeezed my eyes shut, believing that they would go after I opened my eyes.

     1 . . .

     2 . . .

     3 . . .

     Gradually, my eyelids unsealed themselves. However, despite having counted to three, their shoes were still in range, and had only shuffled a few steps backwards.

     Tightening my jaw, the beat of my heart accelerated as I plucked up the courage to avert my eyes away from the stone pathway, and on to the person before me.

     Before I could take in their features, their back faced me.

     As a sign of departure, they pressed their index and third finger together and waved it away from their temple, with their other hand inside their pocket as they sauntered away.

     "I said it's okay."

"Huh?"

"Hope you enjoy Seoul!"

     I blinked to myself. Enjoy Seoul?

     Did I seem like an outsider already?

     With my chest deflating slightly, I made my way towards the double doors, before feeling a light weight under my arms. Oh my suitcase!— Arching my head downwards, to let the strands of my hair shield my scrunched up face, the tops of my ears burned red. They didn't even need to spare a glance at me to know that I was new to Seoul.

     Repossessing my suitcase, I entered the apartment building at last. Both doors swung open automatically, when the sensors detected my body. The sound of plastic wheels against stone grounds, reverberated around the lobby as I drew closer towards the front office.

"Hello Si— Hello." Tearing my straw woven bucket hat off my head, hesitantly, I bent my knees to lower myself, my head tilted to peek through the gap of the medium sized monitors. I blinked several times when the receptionist didn't glance up once. "Hello? . . . Sir?" My words decreased in sound near the end, with caution I persisted onwards, "hello sir, can I check into—"

"Hello, this is Taeyang Hotel speaking how may I help you?"

"Hello and thank you. I uh, phoned you recently, my name is Jeong Hwa-Yeon?—"

"Mhm, mhm, can you spell your name out for me?"

I was too busy sorting out my notepad and stuffing it into my bag, to even notice what the receptionist was doing. "Oh okay well it's J for Japan, e for eclair, o for orange—"

"Mhm, so I've got down Hwang, your forename, Ma'am?"

"What— No, Sir that's not my—"

"Okay thank you Hwang Ae-ri. I will email you the details when an apartment room is free to be shown around for a tour. Thank you for calling, we hope to get back to you as soon as possible." The receptionist lifted their hand away from the handset of the telephone as it clicked onto the switch hook. "Hello, how may I help you?"

Retreating moderately, my eyes fell to the hand sewn keychain that was clipped onto the zipper of my bag. It was in the shape of a fuzzy peach, the soft material of the yarn felt intriguing for the time being as I set my eyes on it— all for the pretence of being occupied.

Doing a double take, I let out a short chuckle, "sorry uh, yes, I phoned you a few days ago, regarding room number 309?"

Not phased, their gaze was still cemented onto their computer screen. "Your name?"

I watched as their right hand clicked away at the mouse, whilst the other floated above the keyboard. Rolling my shoulder back a bit, I re-adjusted my posture and repeated my name, as though I didn't mention it before, "Jeong Hwa-Yeon."

"Proof of identity?"

"My passport—"

Only flickering his eyes towards it for a few seconds, he pushed it away, "thank you, here are your keys, the elevator is to your left and the stairs are just on the right."

"Thank you Sir."

I divulge the fact that a silent song always followed me wherever I went. A symphony that had no notes within its bars.

Songs accompany us all the time.

     It does so whenever we experience something raw and beautiful. Whenever we go through great sadness or guilt. Whenever we feel elated with bursting exhilaration— our emotions and events compose a musical score full of notes that represent ourselves.

The soundtrack to my reality, simply had no melody.

     I could not tell why.

Perhaps, it was the fact that I did not know whether or not the experiences I had were suitable for a minor key, or major, or any other. Or that I refused to accept the minor keyed soundtrack to my Life— I didn't want to think that my Life played a melancholy tune. Fate clearly withheld against any major keyed song, since, I could not recall the last time I had a true, cheerful memory without a burdened mind.

     Was it because I found peace?

Is silence truly peace?

Or did the person who composed the soundtrack to my life give up?

It seemed so, so silence followed me instead.

The silence enhanced in intensity as I was stood opposite to Room 309. With my fingers aquiver, there was a dampish feeling around my forehead as my hand stayed reluctant to place the key within lock. Almost heaving, I forced my eyes shut. The thoughts within my mind were almost unorganisable, for they had already decayed inside the deeper crevices of my brain awhile ago.

Until, I lifted my eyes again. The skin-tearing waves of my thoughts were put to a temporary halt. I was met with a silence again.

Why am I here again?

Oh.

The door clicked open.

Rapidly, the smell of old oak flooded towards me, and filled a semi-section of the hallway. It wafted into my nostrils, and I could almost taste the dustiness of it on my tongue. A hint of a mildewy fragrance surrounded me when the door sealed behind me.

The last time stepped foot inside this household, I was only a small infant. Yet, the aura of the room was wistful, giving the impression that it was greeting me. But, I figured that it was because, Room 309 had no-one to greet for over three years.

I felt like an invader, an alien to the phantasmic space. But everything was very real, it had been lived in before. Hitching a breath within my throat, idling in the doorway, my pulse felt like it was being seized by an iron fist. It remained stationary as my being introduced itself into the untouched home.

Rolled out beneath me, was an opal green and murky yellow rug. Inwardly, my eyes scanned it the surface, and found that the end was more scruffier than the other. He must have left the house a lot.

By my navy Converses, there were a line of slides. Just behind them, there was a fleecy, pale black scarf, that was also trapped between a pile of cardboard shoe boxes. It must have fallen from the cloak hanger— another scenario played out within my mind. Perhaps he was in a rush and knocked it off—

I focused on the silence around me, and I waited till the thought dissipated from my mind.

Setting aside my hefty luggage, I selected the smallest sized slippers. The plastic material rubbed against the sides of my feet tinily. But I still wore it, being used to my previous routine that I had back in Cheongsando.

With my footsteps creating a dissonance with the croaky floorboards, I ventured onwards, my breathing quiet.

Glass cups were dotted around what I guessed was the dining table, and they were still seated upon the seagrass placemats. There were faded droplets within them, a sign that they had evaporated over time from being unattended for a period of time. Some solidified smears of orangey-red sauce could be seen in front of one seat, whilst some grains of hardened rice filled the cracks of the tiles.

Regardless of the stench, I reached forwards to open the fridge that was just behind the table. But then I stopped myself.

Let's leave everything be for now.

It still felt inappropriate of me to be dawdling around the apartment.

Instead of an abundance of magnets and pinned up photos on the door of the fridge, there were highlighter coloured Post-it-notes, and different patterned note taking paper. They were filled with reminders: The milk expires on the 25th January! / Take digestion meds before cooking! / Doctors appointment— 8th Jan, 10:40AM / Take what you have, and use it to create what you want. Some were taped up, but some were hanging loosely by the pre-made adhesive on the Post-it-notes.

Three had fallen already, I made a mental notion to re-visit them later.

A corridor beckoned me to stopover and enter the rooms. It intrigued me so— I refused.

I thought I was prepared for this day— however, this fool of a day was evidence that I was not, at least not inwardly.

Winding through the row of half reclined chairs, and paper covered coffee table, my limbs thirsted for the city's air again. Taking the frilly, laced curtains into my fingers, I let slip the thought about leaving everything as it was.

I needed a break.

Gliding the glass door to the right smoothly, the staleness of the room escaped almost instantly. The Seoul air was overpowering as it cleansed the home that was soulless for some time. That wrenched my heartstrings somehow. Maybe I didn't want that. I didn't plan to make changes to the apartment so rapidly.

I latched on to the balcony's bars a little tighter.

In my peripherals, I could perceive the grey blazers and various garments that were put up on a clothing line by a few hangers. The breezes came in waves, interlacing through my hair, sending some lone strands to tickle my eyes. Every millisecond I would catch a whiff of the street food that was just a block away. In Cheongsando, the fragrances of whatever flowers, that grew within a plant pot, would envelop my senses completely whenever you unlatched the windows.

My overly warm cheek laid against my curled up fist, I didn't realise that I was nodding off very slowly. It was the reverberating sounds of vehicle horns that gathered in the distance, that dragged me back to the state of being awake.

Dropping my arm down, I let my forearms rest against the cold-bitten bars, my eyelids widening as I stood up again.

"The city is . . . quite pretty."

Capturing my sight, the skyline painted a starry canvas under the hazy sky. It was as though, the building's lights stole the sky's celestial bodies to use them for their own needs. Dazing in and out, it almost felt like I was watching myself taking in the views the from a birds-eye view, as I lost all knowledge of time.

Then an array of coral and pale yellow lights seized my attention.

There it was, that silence again. But it was accompanied with a strange, shrill, resonant sound that rattled inside my ears.

I didn't need to question, what was plastered across one of the buildings, in the far end of the city. Happy Birthday, the billboard said, with a scrawly cobalt blue font, followed by:

In loving memory of, JEONG SE-YEON.

I then came to a conclusion, that silence can be overbearing.

SYLVIA'S NOTE. Hey guys :p!!! Saur this was so descriptive and not a lot of action actiony, but this book will be like that a lot because it's 1st person, and I wanna make this as raw and real as possible so I hope this is executing that well?!

Please, please, please give me some feedback, I would love u forever, thank you for reading, also, it means the world to me :) (Plus this isn't proof read, so let me know if you see any mistakes)

I hope you are enjoying this so far, it will have a lot of dark themes, and more of my own scenes rather than the True Beauty plot, so I hope you're just as excited as I am!!<3

See you guys in the next one !!!!!!