Under the Lights
o n e .
JaeJoong stands at the top of the world.
He is wealthy, he has power, he can get anything and anyone he wants, and under him are a group of people, always ready and willing to serve him.
At the young age of just seventeen, Kim JaeJoong has it all.
But his life is not perfect. His money is dirty, earned from dealing drugs and selling women; his power comes with many rivals, who are all after his blood; he doesn't know what he wants -- and he knows not everyone under him are loyal.
People change. They betray.
And so JaeJoong looks down from the tall high-rise building, out the glass windows overlooking peaceful Seoul. It is night, but many residents are still up, their windows bright. The street lights merge together in harmony, and few cars still navigate the nearly empty streets.
All is serene, but JaeJoong cannot relax, for he can sense it. The overwhelming scent of war, approaching as every second ticks by on his digital wrist watch.
He sees grey clouds floating in the blackened skies above, effectively beginning to cover the star-lit sky.
He hears nothing, a dull silence, only the scuffling of people downstairs.
He smells the aromatic waves of peace, but it is merely the calm before a storm.
He feels giddy, his muscles tensed, his posture rigid -- simply odd.
He touches the glass window with his outstretched hand, and it looks as if he is holding Seoul in his hand, as if he can touch any part of it, like a toy city; so fragile and easily toppled over.
His mind flashes back to images of a body, lying on the ground, his skin white and void of any signs of life.
Father.
And for a brief moment, JaeJoong wondered what his father would do in his place. His father had been his idol since when he was a little kid, and the admiration and respect had not been lost as JaeJoong aged over the years into a youthful teen.
His father's lifeless body on the floor, a crimson liquid pouring out of his chest.
JaeJoong looked back out the window.
Yes, he could sense it. It was like the gods had wanted to warn him with omens. Or maybe his father was up there, watching as the story unfolds and hinting him.
War.
He is wealthy, he has power, he can get anything and anyone he wants, and under him are a group of people, always ready and willing to serve him.
At the young age of just seventeen, Kim JaeJoong has it all.
But his life is not perfect. His money is dirty, earned from dealing drugs and selling women; his power comes with many rivals, who are all after his blood; he doesn't know what he wants -- and he knows not everyone under him are loyal.
People change. They betray.
And so JaeJoong looks down from the tall high-rise building, out the glass windows overlooking peaceful Seoul. It is night, but many residents are still up, their windows bright. The street lights merge together in harmony, and few cars still navigate the nearly empty streets.
All is serene, but JaeJoong cannot relax, for he can sense it. The overwhelming scent of war, approaching as every second ticks by on his digital wrist watch.
He sees grey clouds floating in the blackened skies above, effectively beginning to cover the star-lit sky.
He hears nothing, a dull silence, only the scuffling of people downstairs.
He smells the aromatic waves of peace, but it is merely the calm before a storm.
He feels giddy, his muscles tensed, his posture rigid -- simply odd.
He touches the glass window with his outstretched hand, and it looks as if he is holding Seoul in his hand, as if he can touch any part of it, like a toy city; so fragile and easily toppled over.
His mind flashes back to images of a body, lying on the ground, his skin white and void of any signs of life.
Father.
And for a brief moment, JaeJoong wondered what his father would do in his place. His father had been his idol since when he was a little kid, and the admiration and respect had not been lost as JaeJoong aged over the years into a youthful teen.
His father's lifeless body on the floor, a crimson liquid pouring out of his chest.
JaeJoong looked back out the window.
Yes, he could sense it. It was like the gods had wanted to warn him with omens. Or maybe his father was up there, watching as the story unfolds and hinting him.
War.
♠ ♠ ♠
Phew! The first chapter ^__^Please comment & give constructive criticism. You know the saying, if you don't have anything to say, please don't say it. (:
Anyways... hope you enjoyed and that it wasn't a waste of your time. I think it's a bit repetitive... I'll try to make the next chapters better.
So.. Comment and thankyou for reading! Subscribe :3