Summer: On Lysette Cross

Winchester, England

July 2008

11:31 AM

“You know what I want to do?”

“Mm?”

“After graduating or during the summers or something. I don’t know.” Lysette peeks at Aether from behind her canvas, paint brush tucked behind her ear. “I’ve been giving it some thought recently and maybe...maybe this is something I can do when I have the time.”

Aether quirks a brow, setting a book down on the bed. Lysette catches the worn-out cover and the yellowing pages in the light and thinks of telling Aether to get herself a new copy. “And what do you want to do, Lys?”

“Volunteer.” It falls easily from her lips. Aether’s eyes widen a little in surprise. “Volunteer, come back here, all that stuff. I don’t know.” She shrugs, “I feel like I owe Xavier and everyone else at least that. He always mentions how some kids have come back to either work here or do some volunteer work for the kids. Remember the alumnus who helped you out with the piano? Or the guy who came here to give a weekend session on watercolor?” Aether nods, “I want to do something like that. Why not, right? I remember how happy I was after learning about it and getting critiqued.”

“That works.”

Coup de foudre: On Iris Hu

It happens the second Iris is old enough to start reading and understanding the newspaper.

It’s become a habit for her; each morning and night she’d find herself reading the news, the paper often a little too big for her to hold in her smaller hands. Iris’ parents often filtered the news and let her read the softer sort; news about entertainment, lifestyle, and the like. 

The older she got, however, the more interested she was in actual news and actual reports; she managed to convince her mom to let her start reading the front page news more, and the rest happened from there.

She was never the type to write fiction, definitely not. Iris didn’t think she was creative enough to come up with words and weave them into believable fictions. Novels were fine and she liked the sensation of exploring different worlds and stepping into the shoes of girls like her, but she often found that she liked her own pair of shoes the best.

Smile: On Im Seong-hui

i.

your smile is infectious. it always has been.

you smile as much as you can. you do it throughout your childhood until your pre-teens, then your pre-teens until your adulthood and whatcomes after.

you aren’t quite sure when smiling becomes a mask.

but it didn’t matter, did it? smiling was what you did best. your parents relied on you to keep your sisters happy, to shield them from harsh truths when needed. you smiled despite the odds. you put on a smile to perk them up when necessary. seong-won and seong-mi teased you for it constantly and mentioned that all the smiling made your dimples come out; teased that you would get laugh lines when you were older.

but they appreciated it, at least. you know this.

Errors: On Emil Leonhardt

Seattle, WA

November 200x

12:31 PM

“You’re real stubborn, you know that?”

“Wasn’t asking for a critique on my overall character, but yeah, I do know.” Min-seo rolls her eyes. Emil simply stabs at his carrot cake, “It was a small argument, Min. It’ll get resolved in no time. Kwon’s going to approach me because he needs something from me, and the entire thing will be forgotten. Water under the bridge.”

“Haneul.”

“What?”

She shakes her head. “His name is Haneul, Emil. At least get it right.”

“But wouldn’t he rather be called by his surname—”

“Since when? Look,” she exhales, “Just...stop being stubborn and apologize. You made a mistake. You both did. But you need to be mature about it, too. And no,” she interrupts, “I don’t care who started the argument first. You need to apologize for it. Christ.” Min-seo sighs. She glances into her coffee cup and downs what remains. “Your stubbornness will be the death of you someday.”

Family: On Mack Thomas

Headquarters

Seattle, WA

June 2015

10:32 AM

Mack readjusts his sweater for the hundredth time that morning.

The place is nicer than he had expected. He had passed by the building numerous times on his way to his previous work; it had caught his attention, but never to the point of him being curious enough to peek inside and inquire at the front desk.

If he had to be honest, then Mack wasn’t even sure why he was giving the new place a go to begin with. The last job was stable, he was practicing what he studied, and the people he had worked with were as friendly as they could be. It paid well, too. Why exactly he had decided to switch jobs out of the blue was something rash and impulsive; Mack didn’t know if he would even last in a place like this new one.

Maybe it was because he found the man cute. Maybe that was it.

Just weeks ago he was talking to a man who introduced himself as “Tad”; they were talking about what Mack did, what Mack could do, and about what Mack wanted. When he had admitted to the stranger that he was already getting bored with his current job, a certain kind of smile climbed onto the other’s face. The expression had made him fiddle with his shirt.

Cut to the present, and Mack is still adjusting his damn sweater.

Pulse: On Audra Griffith

Sacred Heart

Seattle, WA

October 200x

11:34 PM

Audra finds herself unable to speak. 

The church is empty. It had finally ran empty after hours of visits as well as a mass to start the entire ordeal. The church is empty, the pews are empty (save for the one she was occupying at the moment), everything is empty and hollow and even the fucking casket in front remains empty. Audra didn’t even know why they had bothered to use a casket to begin with when they could have just used a single framed picture--

Either way, he was dead. 

Audra still can’t believe it. The shock has made a home in her system, seeping through her veins and making her unable to comprehend anything else. Gone. It tastes odd on her tongue; odd and unsuited, rather bitter the more she keeps it inside her mouth. Audra wants to spit it out. She wants to spit the word away. The last thing she needs is a reminder that he’s gone, that he isn’t there anymore, that the last time they had been together there had been a spiteful, vicious argument. Audra no longer remembers the specifics. 

(She doesn’t want to remember.)

Ways and Means: On Xavier Wright

Locals in the neighborhood knew about Xavier Wright’s orphanage.

It was impossible to miss, after all. The orphanage sat on a well-maintained lot around the town’s suburbs and had steadily grown in size throughout the many years of its existence. Originally starting out at a humble two storeys alongside a simple garden, Xavier had managed to improve the home throughout the years. Rumor has it that the lot had been his family’s; others whispered that he had simply struck luck during one of his many travels in the past.

Regardless, it was a good place handled by a well-meaning man. Its history wasn’t too long nor was it too convoluted; in the earlier years of their marriage, Xavier and his wife, Isobel, had been unable to bear children due to biological complications. The pair had decided to turn towards adoption. After observing the sorry state of most foster care facilities in the within the area, had come up with the ambitious dream to set up their own orphanage where they knew they could properly take care of children in need.

The process had been a long one. Despite both of their backgrounds as well as occupational capacity to set up their own center, it had taken years before the pair had finally been accredited and allowed to run the place.

No one was exactly sure how Xavier and Isobel had been able to collect the necessary funds to begin with, nor were they sure how they were even able to pull off their dream in the first place. All they knew was that the couple had a dream--and within years, they were finally able to see it come to fruition.

Things were perfect.