Cigarette Ashes | Jongsang [A]

                                    

                                          
TW: Smoking, mentions of cancer, secret self-hatred.
(This is a teaser for my upcoming book 'Decaying Bones!' hope you like it
Story Info: finally The infamous writers, Yeosang and Jongho finally meet, after exchanging secret letters to another, sitting on a bench in Central Park, New York, reminiscing about their life endeavors.
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1949 7:31 AM.
 The cold morning air whispered against their masked faces, as they held their long trenchcoats to their faces, sealing their identity, walking in the fog, breathing in the city fumes, living in the fanatical dream that was America, away from their sweet Korea, no longer hidden by their words, the two would meet, finding embrace in one another, though, would never mention it, as the morning wipes away. 

Jongho sat on the bench, his leg crossed, a cigarette to his lips, breathing it in, letting the burn keep him alive, remind him he's not quite dying yet, in fact, his mind was still very much alive, it never had a dying beat, in his mind, his human body could no longer keep his vibrant, but dark soul.

It was abrasive anyway, corroded, the furthest thing from purity, his mind dreamed of violence, and how such intense acts of gore, reveal the darkest colors of humans, and their twisting souls, and two-faced lies, how pain was the very calling to the human heart. 

The masses in his lungs revealed that, tumors that took away his breathing at times, he was a dying man, yet, the cigarette made him feel better, in fact, he liked the risked of it, pushing it further. 

He flicked the ash, blowing it out from his mouth, the morning was only starting, though he knew he wouldn't see much of it, as his final days were wrapping around his soul. 

As he took in the view and aesthetic of the morning, he heard footseps, quiet ones, revealing a man, in a trenchcoat, a top hot, and cane, yet, he was a silent killer, he was sent here when the letters told him to. 

"You must be Jongho?" A deep voice rattled from the man, capturing Jongho's fullest attention. 

The speaker hiding his face, as he lied behind a facade of dim park lamps, he looked the a shadow figure, but so was Jongho, hiding to, sitting on the furthest end of the bench. 

"Yes, this is him, you must be Yeosang?" 

The man cleared his throat, "Yes, you requested to finally meet me, i've came." 

Jongho nodded, he remembers the last letter he wrote, or the last thing he ever wrote, he readjusted himself, smiling, though not noticeable. 

"Yes, please, sit, but on that end, i would to have a chat." He pointed to the other furthest end, coughing.

Yeosang observed the man as he sat, the old bench creaking, this was the same man who sent him complete letters of worship, he knew his works, praised of his words, falling in love, but with ink and paper. 

"A chat? i feel its something more." Yeosang spoke, convening  his words, as he looked at the shadow man with desire. 

Jongho smiled, how endearing he was, latching on quickly, he laid back, pulling out another cigarette, he craved the the taste and freedom of nicotine to burn him more, the lighter to his cigarette lighting up his face for a brief second. 

"Your right, you don't care for small talk to do you?" 

Yeosang watched the man, puffing the cigarette, becoming comfortable, adjusting to the energy, eyeing him like a hawk in the dim shadows.  
"No, i never had, i prefer straightforwardness, it doesn't waste our lives precious time." 

Jongho smiled, his rotten teeth coming through, "Well, i am a dying man, fair and simple, and i deserve my last good chat to be the one burned into my soul." 

Yeosang's gaze softened when he heard those insufferable words, come out in such a calming tone,as he accepted it, he was ready to go home to the stars, wasn't he? but Yeosang understood, as the lymphoma was growing inside him

"Your the quite man, writing me for years, for our interaction to be short-lived, this was your plan wasn't it?" 

Jongho puffed deeply the cigarette, "Perhaps, or perhaps, a magician never gives away his secrets does he? now, enough of this, tell me, do you believe stars are real?" 

Yeosang didn't understand the empty-headed question, "Stars are real." 

Jongho chuckled, of course he didn't understand the question "No, im talking about souls, souls of the universe, they say when a soul dyes or gets rebirthed, there's a new star, do you believe in it?" 

Yeosang sat on the bench, the smell of smoke, flooded his nose, causing him to choke, he thought about the question. 

"Yes, i guess i do, though i never admired the stars deeply, i more admire the earth, as it wasn't make-believe." 

"Are you afraid of the stars?" Jongho asked in deep engrossed tone, his eyes focoused to the other man, wanting to know more about the man. 

"Perhaps to be honest, the same way i'm afraid of dying, invasive to my own mortality, which is why i write so i can exist forever, forever in the seas of words and never-ending daydreaming." 

Jongho was enriched by his answer, thinking of his own writing and worlds that looped in his mind, the dark writing of Choi Jongho. 

"See, i welcome the stars with open hands and a broken heart, i hope to heal in those stars, being rebirthed, perhaps my next life will- will be more better off." 

Yeosang wrote stories in High fantasy, speaking the language of the infinite creative expression of the mind,  living in other worlds, as he couldn't bare himself to be in the same body, to enjoy himself as a human, seeking pleasure outside this realm. 

His story would never end, untill it would, but Yeosang never saw the stars calling for him, he belonged somewhere else entirely. 

"And may the stars hug you when you take your final breath yes?" 

Jongho coughed, he was getting worse, but kept smoking, flickering, "My final breath will be my longest hopefully, say, do know what dying means as a dying man?, my life is meaningful, but yet, nothing at all." 

"Yknow, i am dying man myself, perhaps this is what God wanted, but i reject him." 

Jongho chuckled at the righteous statement. "Perhaps we are God just trapped." 

They both laughed, but it was a sad laugh, this would be the first and last time they meet, in one harmony and light. 

"Say, do you have family? a lover perhaps?" Jongho asked. 

"No, i will die alone." 

The words echoed in Jongho's head, how could such a man, die alone?

"Would you regret it?" 

Yeosang pressed his back into the bench, awhile Jongho ended his last smoke, thinking of his life and emotions. 

"I believe i never found my soulmate yknow? I asked for love, but it never came to me, as beautiful as it sounds, it was all a dream, a wish, that would never come true. 

"Perhaps one day they will come, i believe everyone has a soulmate, you just have to find them, as they are rare, everyone wants to feel loved." 

Which reminded Yeosang of a very important that ramage through his mind, why did the letters start? why him? why did he write to him for 5 years? did he perhaps know him? or did he perhaps fall in love with him. 

"Why did you start writing the letters? Mr Choi, why me?' 

"Because, even though, i used to hate your writings, i slowly fell in love with them." Jongho answered honestly.

Yeosang was taken back by  his words, letting them soak into him, a cold man like him had a heart?

"And because i fell in love with the writer." Jongho muttered, nervous. 

Something about that flushed Yeosang, a writer loving a writer, what a strange but sweet combo, Yeosang did always love his words in the letters. 

Jongho came forward in the light revealing himself finally, Yeosang came forward as well. 

"You were always my favorite Yeosang, you always were." 

"And perhaps we can meet another time, except, far far away from here." Jongho continued on. 

"I love you Yeosang, and thank you for being my final peace in life." 

Jongho stood up, rubbing the cigarette into the ground, he kissed Yeosangs forehead, before walking off. 

Never to been again. 

They would meet again.

But not here. 

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HELLO THOUGHTS? I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!!!
I based Jongho off Edgar Allen Poe and Yeosang off JRR Tolkien