#i made a new post so we don't carry around the ugly ask formatting for every reblog :x

[tlltaleheart]

@irinironclad.

[ . . . ] "You needed a ride, right?" Irin asked, alluding to his purpose there before Minseo could say anything. Leaning his hip against the workman's desk, he watched the foyer darken as the documentary came to a completion. Within a ten-second frame, it was lit - Without a doubt, Minseo's doing. "Don't mind me," He said, following up his question. "I'm fine to drive." He held the bottle of prosecco up; it was only a quarter empty.

the projection room at mise-en-scene was small and dark. half a step lower than the rest of the building with no windows or beacons of light besides the projector, it seemed to become pocket of nothing when its only door was closed. years ago, when the doctors were so sure about how much time he had left before his heart would give out on itself, minseo might have imagined that this was what it was like after.

after. in the dark, he meant. floating, he meant. when he sneaked back to watch movies alone, it felt like that: suspended in this small room of nothing, with nothing to touch or be touched by and prove that he was something real, with only the moving picture on the screen to watch and convince himself was a good-enough placebo for the real thing.

probably why he didn't like the non-fiction reels so much. movies were a possible life in some other place; documentaries tried to remind him of the one he was in. he couldn't remember which one he'd left in the player, or what it was about, or why his eyes drifted to the grim scenes playing out in front of him. he was just tired, he thought. and melancholy. he hated when the two of those came together. he wanted to be home with his own films, and he wanted to slip on his headpiece and close his eyes, then reopen them to the comfort of someplace he actually wanted to be.

even if it was just another void.

he would have left early if it weren't for the sudden presence that appeared next to him. spooked by so many ghosts lately, minseo didn't startle so easily this time, tearing his gaze away from the darkening screen to the stranger that had come up to his desk.

or were they? he looked away for a second to stop the film and flick on the lights, but once his eyes flitted back to their face, he felt a pang of recognition.

oh. the neighbor. your neighbor, a voice reminded him. this voice had arms and legs and always appeared in the wake of these dizzy spells, trying to plug him back into reality. yes, minseo. yes, now answer.

irin. that was his name, wasn't it? "i did?" he couldn't remember, but it might have slipped his mind, just like irin's arrival might have slipped his notice. he was more puzzled by irin's voice when he didn't sound...angry.

irin had seemed really upset that day with the smoke. minseo remembered it now, but only because his stomach still churned every time he did. he'd returned to his apartment door lock broken that day and two strangers rifling through his things. debt collectors, they said when he asked, and then they named a price that his parents were long overdue to pay. one of them carried the rancid smell of cigarettes, the old-world kind, taking drags of it while they laid out his options for repayment.

minseo hadn't been afraid, not of them or their threats or the dizzying few seconds they'd put a scrambler to the magnet in his chest to see how long he could hold his breath. but he'd been afraid when irin came knocking, and they turned a gun towards the thin plaster wall separating them from the hallway where irin stood.

make him leave, they'd said. this stays between us.

minseo couldn't remember the specifics past that, only that he'd done it. irin had left, and he didn't get hurt, and now he was here.

past the fear, minseo felt a wave of relief.

"i don't think you should be driving after that." he frowned a little. he reached over to push the bottle down and out of sight, casting a glance at the door to the rest of the building. "i don't think we even allow alcohol in here... have you had that the entire time? if my boss sees it on the cameras, he's going to ban you from coming here." and irin did seem to like the documentaries.

he clicked the disc back into its case before shutting the player off. the documentary was the last of the night; it had run through their closing hours. he still couldn't remember if he had seen irin walk in, but it didn't matter right now. irin didn't sound upset anymore, and there was the bigger issue of getting back home when there was possibly some murderer out there.

"we can head back together. i guess it's safer that way, right, after everything that's been happening?” he nudged the door to his desk shut on his way out, heading for the doors where he saw that it was drizzling outside. that meant he couldn't walk and he really couldn't have irin on the road. maybe this was the least he could do too, after the whole thing with the smoke. "maybe i should drive, though...”