#someone in my city wants me to elect hongbin

[elvencantation]

oh my godddd 😂

[commedias]

♋ my muse visiting yours in the psych ward (( for anyone!!

masterlist of memes (currently accepting) (from hongbin)

            he stands in his office, obscured by the darkness of the space. his blinds have been slanted to deliberately shut off the view of the city below him. when reaching a stage of his career when such capacity would be needed, he had the top two floors within the imposing building reserved for his personal use. now several staff members shuttled back and forth between the rooms allotted for his work. however, he dismissed all of them early today in light of the occasion: his mother's birthday.

            hongbin can't recall the last time he celebrated the landmark for himself, twenty-eight an age at which any sort of personal affair came across as frivolous and self-absorbed. he had been too absorbed in his political campaign to even consider any treatment for himself. now that he reflected, the dreaded date was approaching in december. the month already featured a line-up of events including black friday and christmas. alas, another setback which prevented him from bothering with his birthday beyond accepting a few cards from colleagues.

            however, this was september, still three months prior to his birthday. other than the whirling winds during the evening, it was virtually impossible to distinguish from summer. trickles of august still influenced the month, autumn nothing more than a subtle interlude when it came to seasons in nevada. still, the weather is appropriate for heavier wear, hongbin sporting a woolen jacket to shield him from the slight chill outdoors. he ends his pensive speculation at the office, retrieving the bouquet of white orchids laying on his desk so that he can head out the door.

            he drives silently, the usual faint score of classical music absent. expanses of buildings roll out before him, hongbin passing them by idly. for the first time in months, he's shut off his phone to prevent any distractions from the task at hand. preparations had been made with his secretary to clear his agenda of any further activities. without the heavily packed schedule, he finds his mind in a vacant state, the lack of preoccupation disturbing him. in order to compensate, hongbin drills his finger against the side of the wheel, the syncopated rhythm of his digit alleviating some of the stress.

            he doesn't want this. he doesn't want the emotional toll of visiting his mother at the psych ward. he's never granted himself such a selfish thought before, but it lingers incessantly today. his love for her had carried on throughout childhood, hongbin faithfully attending to her when his father and brothers hadn't. however, each visit became more desolate: the peeling wallpaper, the unhinged patients, the apathetic staff. the conditions horrified him, provoking him to champion for change.

            and so he had done so. his entire political agenda had been fueled for the purpose of promoting mental health reform. during early adolescence, he had already added a number of legal textbooks to his reading repertoire. once he reached college, he was so adequately versed that he excelled with ease in all of his courses. in the beginning years of his political career, hongbin had served in a number of various offices before audaciously gunning for the position of governor. the fruits of his labor proved ripe, hongbin rewarded with the victory by a wide margin.

            after devoting the last eighteen years to this very cause (his inspiration begun at ten, a mere child deciphering legal jargon with the help of a dictionary), he felt a sense of pride in his accomplishment. yet this was only the beginning. while he had secured his spot as the newly elected governor of nevada, the mental health reform policies he had been pushing had yet to come to fruition. it was understandable, only taking office within the last two weeks. but now that he was finally able to seize the goal which his entire life had been dedicatd to thus far, a pressure to succeed weighed on his shoulders similar to the burden of atlas.

            he tides over the fretful notions as he enters the psych ward. hongbin adjusts the tie fashioned around his neck, wielding the bouquet in his hand. while the dilapidated state of the facility always lulled him into a depression, this time would be different. he would skim his fingers across the soiled furnishings and observe the patients roam the institution in a zombiatic state, his mother included, and know that he was finally in a position with enough power to advocate for the policies that he had held close to his heart for so long. if he couldn't succeed in this, then his life had been spent so meticulously on a single goal for NOTHING.

            he shuffles into the halls of the psych ward, harsh flourescent lights flickering from above. various patients give him skeptical looks, perplexed on why such a well-dressed man would grace the lowly building. a foul stench of antisceptic coats the atmosphere, his nose pruning in response. it's been ages since he last visited, admittedly becoming so engrossed in his career that he couldn't spare any time to spare an hour to come here. or at least that was what he told himself. guilt gnawed at him, conscious of how his former love for his mother had eroded with each session of electroconvulsive shock therapy she was subjected to. watching her features contort as those of a caricatures had imprinted a haunting image in his mind.

            he had continuously supported her condition; yes, he was the one who negotiated with his father for mrs. oh to receive help when mr. oh had so adamantly refused. hongbin had been the one to love her as a dutiful son for as long as he could. but the impact on his psyche had become more devastating as she showed no signs of improvement, eventually burying himself in his workload to forget the disappointment of a mother lost to schizophrenia. he plasters a wide smile across his face to pretend as if he felt otherwise, proceeding to open the door to her room.

            ❛ she's in another round of ect, ❜ the nurse deadpans, lipstick-smeared mouth puckering in discontent at his intrusion.

            hongbin bows courteously, secretly relieved that he wouldn't have to face her on such a crucial day. even when she did take her medication, hongbin couldn't bear to watch her eyes glaze over in apathy, voice quiver from the realization that she hadn't seen her family in years. in previous instances when they attempted to take her home, she had neglected to take her medication, claiming that she had made a fully recovery. he knew plenty well that her schizophrenia could never be entirely erased. no matter how many methods they implemented, she was sick and no cure presently existed.

            but he could improve the circumstance. he reminded himself of this purpose as he departed from the room. no longer did his own ambivalence towards his mother plague him, now only concerned about whether her body would withstand the intense therapy. he LOVED her as he had none of his siblings or father, unable to suppress the sentiments from childhood. underneath the glare of the ward's lights, he found himself taken back to his young adolescence. episodes of his mother having delusions before her diagnosis played on an endless reel in his mind. torrential tears come forth, hongbin clutching the folds of his jacket for comfort.

            this was why he became a politician. not to busy himself with conferences with senators or to contribute his vote to trivial policies. the visit renews his purpose, casting off any reservations he had before. he invests his faith into himself and the office he's recently been admitted into. although hongbin hadn't been able to visit her for her birthday, he knows that he'll fulfill the wish she might have made. and he needs someone to voice his restored spirits to, someone who understands. ❛  yutae, can you come see me ? it's urgent, ❜ he switches on his phone to make that single call, visage beaming from the visit back to his past. although the trauma tormented him, it also gave him STRENGTH, a strength which he wished to share with someone he trusted. he leaves the corridor to patiently wait in the cafeteria, spooning at a dish of potato salad. his utensil drops against his tray once the other arrives. ❛ yutae, i'm glad you could make it. let me tell you about something i've been wanting to do for a long time. ❜