Godfrey Gao \\ 29 \\ CEO
i became insane, with long intervals of horrible insanity.
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Godfrey pulled his blanket over his head, nestling under the covers as he held the phone to his ear. He struggled to stay awake, forcing himself to yawn every few minutes in an attempt to keep his mind going, so that he didn't fall asleep. But then again, the soft falsetto voice on the other end of the phone made it hard to want to sleep.
"Michael...," he chuckled quietly, voice growing quiet once more as sleep attempted to claim him. "You don't need to thank me so much. Really, you should give yourself more credit. I haven't done that much. I gave you the job, Michael, but you did the rest," he insisted softly, pulling his blankets up around his shoulders.
Godfrey willed himself to stay awake, but sleep tugged at the edges of his consciousness. "Mikey, thank you for doing what you do for me. I couldn't ask for a better photographer... or friend." Michael truly had become one of his closest friends - as unexpected as the friendship was, the two had clicked immediately. Godfrey had spent multiple days sitting in on Michael's photoshoots, bringing the younger strawberries and cream, helping him choose pictures.... He was used to flitting around the studio, helping whoever might need it, but Michael was always the one that he lingered on.
The man reached up to rub his heavy-lidded eyes, which refused to stay open any longer. He could rest them for a moment, he thought - Michael's sweet voice would, no doubt, pull him out of his sleep. But how tired he was managed to prove him wrong. He was out like a light in a matter of seconds, phone still resting on the side of his head, by his ear, one large hand placed loosely on top of it.
{ certain as the sun. ⇢
at two am, godfrey’s words are the best source of comfort. his sleepy tone that was slowly taking on an awake and lively turn of awareness soon became michael’s favorite line of voices. he curls up underneath the blanket, much like a fetus position to keep from his toes touching the colder end of the bed.
"just be yourself, okay? because when you do, it’s impossible not to love you."
although the elder’s past words from moments ago left his heart knocking with admiration, this one has done its worst. michael feels as if his heart might burstㅡ profoundly, its worse to even conclude that he might begin to feel things. he’s not a great concealer for all emotions being of romantic sap, he realizes this, so he keeps to himself on being reserved. especially with being aware of his past. michael figures that perhaps, godfrey’s still disfigured over sunye.
twenty nine years old, a charming man who only succeeds by doing what he does best, and he’s literally got the whole world encircled in his arms.
… michael, however, was the total opposite. twenty three, a black american; foreignerㅡ ( in which his heart drops when people make open remarks ) and not so successful. well; maybe by a bit; just as he’s climbing up on a ladder to fulfill his achievements.
michael peels the phone away from his ear and burrows his face into the pillow. he’s in a trial to deny these feelings, to get rid of them as much as possibleㅡ because he won’t reach that segment of happiness in a long while. within a few seconds, he grabs for his device again, even if he’s left speechless. “iㅡ,” he starts, and ends the short breath on a sigh. “it’s two am, my mind’s a boggling mess, and you’ve taken my breath away with casual words of encouragement. i really don’t know how to thank you, or how to present these words to you by all means of being grateful… so, i apologize. i’m sorryㅡ godfreyㅡ i really am. thank you, honestly, for taking me under your wing. as you said before, you aren’t impossible to love when you’re like this.”
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Godfrey stifled a yawn, wanting to hear every word from the younger man on the other end of the phone. If he was going to guess that any one of his employees would call him, he would have guessed it would be Michael.
The other's selfless concerns brought a smile to Godfrey's lips. He pulled his knees to his chest, feet burrowing under his blankets. He wasn't surprised in the slightest, honestly. A sigh passed his lips, and he reached a hand up to rub at his temples in an attempt to force his heavy eyelids to stay open.
"Michael, hey, it's too early in the morning for you to be thinking like this." The smile didn't seem to want to leave his lips, and part of him was quite glad that he wasn't face to face with Michael. He didn't understand how his best photographer could be the most worried. If there was anyone that Godfrey wasn't worried about, it was Michael.
He cleared his throat, hoping to not sound quite so groggy. "Mikey... you're too sweet for your own good. But please don't worry about that. You're a wonderful photographer, probably my best. You're amazing at what you do. And hey, you have a great new wardrobe now, right?" A soft laugh bubbled past his lips, and he reached a hand up to rake through his sleep-tousled locks. The younger's concern was endearing, really - that and his heavily-accented Korean.
Godfrey wiggled his way back down to bed, feeling himself grow tired once more. He was sure that Michael wouldn't stay on the phone too long - at least, he hoped not. The last thing he wanted was for the younger to be too tired to function the next day. "Stop worrying. You're overthinking things. You will be fine. I have so much faith in you, and how well you're going to represent us. Just be yourself, okay? Because when you do, it's impossible not to love you."
{ certain as the sun. ⇢
he feels like he’s on the brink of becoming hopeless. the dial tone rings in his ear, for what it seems to be a long time, and michael curls up underneath his hefty covers. feeling unusually selfish than most times, he nearly demanded for the elder to immediately pick up his phone. his eyelids began to feel increasingly heavy over his pupils, but he willed himself to stay awake.
click.
his heart skips a beat when he hears the other’s voice; rich in bassㅡ yet suttle, and dripping with an attractive tone that indicates that godfrey, too, must be very sleepy. his nerves suddenly are shot, and michael draws circular patterns into his sheets to keep from having clammy palms. he chuckles airily, quiet enough just to avoid awakening his dearest roomate. “yeah, um, about that,” michael began, contemplating on his selection of words. godfrey always left him speechlessㅡ no matter how many times michael rehearsed his initial reactions and expected replies. it’s always been a difficulty to speak for himself. he doesn’t know if it’s the respect that the elder has earned himself, or whether it’s otherwiseㅡ perhaps even something else.
bottom line, michael’s heart has always been stuck in his throat.
“sillyㅡ the big day of tomorrow is within a few hours! tomorrow is a whole set of another twenty-four hours, godfrey.” michael tries to create a lightweight atmosphere, even between the two; and being over the phone. “long story short, i can’t seem to fall asleepㅡ and. . i think i could reason with why i can’t,” he confessed, quickening his pace with the circle drawing into his sheets.
he pauses before speaking any longer, straining himself to keep from bombarding godfrey with his livelihood of occasional stress. michael’s index stops creating rings into his solid colored sheets, unfolding his fingers to sprawl out. the pale moonlight shone over his dark hand, and he watches his skin luminate in the natural light of the moon at two am.
” … i’m just afraid that i’d ruin the event for you, and your company’s reputation, godfrey.”
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Seoul fashion week - a week that Godfrey never thought would come - was finally upon them. And this year, he was certain that Gao Inc. was more prepared than they had ever been.
Though the company had been going only a short three years, they had been invited to fashion week each year, and this year was no different. But now, they had even more beautiful models, more talented photographers... and everything would go perfectly.
That sense of relaxation was likely what put Godfrey to sleep so easily that night. He wasn't worried. He was anxious, yes, and ready to get going. But he wasn't scared. He knew that his employees would do a wonderful job and bring fame to the Gao name. He had no doubts in his mind about it.
His peaceful sleep was interrupted by his phone ringing, which nearly didn't wake him up. A yawn tugged at his lips, and he reached a hand up to scratch his cheek. It wasn't time to get up yet, he knew; the lack of light in the room told him as much. He reached over for his phone, narrowing his eyes slightly as he opened them. Who could be calling him this early in the morning?
Godfrey squinted his eyes against the sudden bright light of the screen, the slight pout on his lips morphing into a smile as he read the name. "Michael," he smiled sleepily, pressing the receiver to his ear. He rolled over onto his back, pulling himself up in bed as not to fall asleep on the young man. Of all of Godfrey's employees, Michael was easily his closest. The one Godfrey got along with the best.
Taking care of the younger man was effortless. Michael appreciated each and every motion so profoundly, and it was definitely charming. Were it anyone else calling him at two in the morning, he probably would have been annoyed. But not this time.
"Why are you awake?" Godfrey asked, voice somewhat gravelly as he slowly began to wake up fully. "You've got a big day tomorrow. You need to get some sleep."
{ certain as the sun. ⇢
hazy eyes were clouded with early morning exhaustion, dried lips and a throat clawing at a sudden thirst for waterㅡ he woke himself from a blank world of dreams. somehow, he has gotten his hands to palm against the aching sockets of his eyes; in circular motions to ease the lack of moisture. turning over on the other side of the bed, he rotates his alarm clock to check in with the time. not that he figured it to be nowhere around nine in the morning ( as it was usually dark outsideㅡ ) he wasn’t stunned to find what time it was. deep set hues of brown eyes lazily glazed over the bright, neon, pixelated numbersㅡ and a quiet puff of air leaves his thin lips. michael stares into the clock, as if there was nothing else in the world but to stare. besides, what else was there really to do around two-twenty-six am?
even if exhaustion inhabits his current state, the stressing emotion is aching throughout every bone of his body. michael turns over in bed again, laying flat on his back. his eyes, this time, stare into the ceilng. when he stares long enough, the dots and specks form into aligning linesㅡ and then, pictures. there’s another feeling knocking against his leisurely-paced set of heartbeats, and he let’s it settle beneath his ribcage. anxiety. never been the first to have welcomed a startling form of pained anticipationㅡ and wrecking nervousness, he sighs. pulling at the hefty covers to let it rest against his nose, michael closes his eyesㅡ attempting to block whatever that came to mind.
seoul fashion week. photography; in charge of most of the visual publicationㅡ it was too late to think about all these things otherwise, so it came to him in a night of crashing unstability.
the cover slides a little below the bridge of his nose, and he places his palms over his forehead; then the eyes. a mantra of curses purposely trails from his lipsㅡ but not the typical words consisting of foul language. more like a set of hushed “oh no’s”, and “nopes.”
michael tosses himself in bed again, unaware that he has kicked off the covers. reaching over his nightstand in the dark, the street lamp from across the street served him a source of light. he grabs a hold of a familiar item in his fingers, presses on a few buttons loppily, goes for the speed dial to find a certain someone’s nameㅡ and calls. there’s no hesitation, and he feels the urge to pour out his current feelingsㅡ so maybe, just a few hours from now, he’d find peace in himself.
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Godfrey's heart jumped into his throat as the man finally came to, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Hey, hey, it's okay!" he tried to yell over the other's hysterical sobs, but the words fell on deaf ears. Godfrey hadn't the slightest idea of what to do. He wasn't an expert on things like this. He was more like a fish out of water.
His thoughts were disrupted by a fist suddenly connecting with his cheek, and he cried out sharply, falling backwards into the sand. He gaped slightly, cupping his cheek in his hand. All he could think was damn, this guy could hit. He couldn't find it in himself to be angry, though. He didn't know what had even happened, but he could tell by now that the man wasn't in a good state.
Godfrey recollected himself, trying to ignore the already throbbing pain in his cheek. This was definitely going to leave a black eye tomorrow. So much for that photo shoot. He didn't care for the moment, though - he just wanted this man to be okay. And he was damned if he was going to leave his side.
"Hey-- what are you doing?" He scrambled to his feet as the man stood, unable to catch him before he fell flat on his face in the sand. Godfrey reached out for him, risking yet another punch as he helped him up. "Hey, calm down," he murmured in the most nurturing voice he could muster. "It's okay. Help'll be here soon." He wasn't quite sure what else to say. What could he say? He hadn't the slightest idea of what was going on in the other man's head. The man was out cold, which was probably a good thing, Godfrey decided.
It didn't seem like quick enough that the ambulance arrived. But when it finally did, Godfrey let out a sigh of relief. "Come on. We're going to get you fixed up, okay?" he murmured in the other's ear, not even sure that he was listening. Godfrey helped the paramedics put him onto the stretcher, patting his shoulder once he was in the hands of the medical team. He turned to leave, but was stopped by one of the paramedics.
He lifted his eyebrows, nodding quickly. "O-Oh, yeah, sure. I can come along," he said, climbing into the back of the ambulance along with the man.
"Shit, man, this is Dr. Seo," Godfrey heard one of the paramedics say, causing Godfrey to lift his eyebrows. Surely, a doctor would know better than to allow himself to end up passed out, face-first in sand. That worried Godfrey. Something must be going on, something likely more terrifying than Godfrey ever wanted to imagine.
"He was just laying there when I drove past," he murmured, not entirely sure if anyone was listening. "He laying on the beach. He was unconscious." His mouth grew dry, and he couldn't tell if it was out of fear or concern for the man's health. Someone had done this to this Dr. Seo.
When Godfrey looked up, one of the paramedics was rummaging through the man's pockets, presumably searching for ID. "Aha. Seo In Guk, 26 years old. Heart rate's tachy, sats in the low 90s. I think he'll hold out 'til we get there." The paramedic glanced over at Godfrey, offering him something of a smile. "Thank you for calling us. He could've been in a world of trouble if you didn't."
Godfrey returned the smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?" His gaze averted to In Guk, and he swallowed thickly. "You better be okay," he said quietly, finding himself worrying far too much about a stranger's well being.
✘ Lead In My Lungs — ' pt.2
Inguk was put onto a stretcher and taken to the back of the ambulance, his injuries were somewhat serious as talks amongst the men pointed out a broken nose and distortion where his rips were.
"I need you to come with us sir, if that’s alright. We have a few questions we’d like to ask you while we take this man to the hospital"
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Godfrey chuckled, watching Jongsuk as he so carefully pulled the container from the bag. Jongsuk was always so careful around him, for which Godfrey felt guilty. He never wanted anyone to have to walk on eggshells around him. He was weak, that was certain, but he didn't want others to feel the need to be this careful around him. "Don't worry. When I get out of here, you can take me out and we'll eat our weight in barbecue or something." He laughed softly, pulling himself somewhat higher up in bed.
The nausea was finally beginning to ebb away, for which Godfrey was thankful. He wanted to actually enjoy food for once - food that wasn't saltine crackers and warm water. And the soup smelled delicious. He'd know that smell anywhere. Ox tail soup had always been a favourite of his. And he was damned if he wasn't going to eat any of it.
"I'd recognize ox tail soup anywhere, no matter how sick I am," he grinned, resting his head back against the pillow. He still felt quite weak, especially now that his body was quite devoid of any sort of nutrition whatsoever, and he was eager for the warmth of the soup to spread through his seemingly lifeless body. "Thank you so much for this, Jongsuk."
Somehow, Jongsuk's concern didn't surprise Godfrey. He had never known anyone to worry quite as much as Jongsuk did; aside from Yoonjo, of course. Yoonjo was his sister, though, rather than an intern who didn't absolutely have to take care of Godfrey as much as he did. That wasn't so say that he didn't appreciate it, of course. It was nice to know that someone cared, even though they absolutely didn't have to.
The older man shook his head, offering the young student a smile. "No, no, I want to try and eat some. I can't promise much, but I'm actually feeling a little hungry for the first time in a while," he insisted. "You should split it in half. Eat some yourself. I'm sure you've been working yourself to the bone; you always do." There wasn't much that he could do to care for Jongsuk, not from his hospital bed, but he could always nag the younger man like an older brother.
Godfrey's gaze flickered over to all of the containers Jongsuk pulled from the bag. They seemed to never end. He laughed, looking over at Jongsuk. "You brought so much food. You better share it with me. You could use a little fattening up yourself."
ｓｏｍｅｂｏｄｙ // ｇｇ & ｌｊｓ { ｐａｓｔ }
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ｍｅｍｏｉｒｓ // ｇｇ & ｔｉ
Godfrey was definitely overdue for a new suit. His was beginning to fray - it hardly looked new anymore.
A sigh passed his lips. If there was anything that he hated spending money on, it was clothing. There were so many better things he could be spending it on. After all, his unicycle needed a new seat. It was beginning to wear down, and that wasn't something that he would allow to happen. He had to keep his image pristine; he was a CEO, after all.
He pushed open the door to one of his favourite boutiques and hadn't even the chance to begin looking when a scene unfolded right before his eyes. "Hey, don't let him out!" screamed one of the workers, and Godfrey blinked, trying to take in what was happening.
A long-haired man had stopped in front of the door, obviously trying to sneak clothes out of the store. And normally, Godfrey would have helped the shop workers. If there was anything that Godfrey hated, it was stealing.
But he knew this man. His heart thudded heavily against his ribcage as he focused his attention on the other for a moment. Yes, he definitely knew that face - that devilishly handsome face. "Oh, no, you guys are mistaken," he said quickly, offering the two a warm smile. He touched Ishihara's shoulder lightly. "Baby, I went and got my wallet from the car, since you forgot yours." After a moment, he slipped into Japanese - his wasn't the best, but he knew it would make Ishihara more comfortable. "Go along with it, okay? Let me do all the talking."
Still, Godfrey couldn't believe this was actually him. He had never expected to see Ishihara ever again - not since leaving Japan. But here he was, and the other's mere presence was enough to bring a genuine smile to his lips. "He's Japanese, his Korean isn't very good. But I promise you, he didn't mean to steal those things." He gestured to Ishihara for the younger to hand over the clothing that he had attempted to steal, his heart lurching slightly at the sight.
How was it that Ishihara had been reduced to the level of stealing? It wasn't like him - the younger had been kind-hearted when Godfrey knew him in Japan. If there was anyone he would expect to steal anything, it would never be Ishihara. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, ladies." The women seemed to understand, even though he could definitely hear them whispering among themselves something about the fact that they were 'gay,' which didn't bother Godfrey quite as much as the fact that Ishihara was so desperate that he felt the need to steal.
He paid for the items of clothing, taking the bag with a bow. "Thank you." He turned, pulling Ishihara to the side. "Really? Stealing? I never would have expected that from you - you're above that, darling," he whispered in Japanese, brushing his thumb across the younger's cheek. "I never thought I'd see you again." He bumped Ishihara's leg with the bag, gesturing for him to take it. "What are you doing here?"
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It had been some sort of miracle that Godfrey had been able to fall asleep. After all of the vomiting and stomach cramps, he was worn out - the fever sapped every little bit of energy from his body. He slept rather soundly, until he heard a faint voice by his side. At first, he thought it was one of the nurses; at least, he hoped that was all it was.
But his hazy mind finally registered what was being said, and he forced his eyes open, turning his head to catch Yoonjo's gaze. A sigh passed his lips, and he reached up to rest a hand on her cheek. "You weren't supposed to come in," he croaked, a slight smile playing at his lips. He wasn't surprised, in all honesty. She was a little spitfire. There was no saying no to Shin Yoonjo.
Godfrey sucked in a heavy breath, mustering up the last bit of strength he had to sit up slightly in bed. "You're so stubborn. I told the nurse not to let you in but something tells me you weren't going to take that." He wished that Yoonjo wasn't there. The very last thing he wanted was for her to see him like this. And judging by the sound of her voice, this hadn't been easy for her in the slightest. He never wanted her to have to deal with this.
The man squeezed his eyes shut against a wave of nausea. The last thing he needed right now was to be sick again, and for Yoonjo to see the tinges of blood. "I'm supposed to be the one who sings to you, not the other way around." He reached a hand up to rub over his face, glistening with sweat. If he had it his way, he would keep Yoonjo away until he was entirely better; if that happened, in any case. He tried not to think negatively, but it was possible that he could die right here in this hospital bed any day. There had been some close calls already.
Godfrey turned to face Yoonjo, wincing against the sharp pain in his stomach. No matter how much he wanted Yoonjo to leave... he didn't. She was, in many ways, his security blanket. He never wanted her to be, but she was what made Godfrey feel safe. She gave him the strength to fight when he didn't want to, which seemed to be more often than not. She was quite possibly the only reason he was alive at that very moment.
He wanted to speak, but even the movement of his jaw was too much. He closed his eyes, but not before reaching out to grab Yoonjo's hand between two of his own. "Are you okay? Has Dad done anything?" He knew that he didn't have to elaborate. One of the things Godfrey hated most about being sick was that he couldn't do a thing about anything his father did to Yoonjo. Between his father and his witch of a stepmother, neither of them cared about the person who meant most to Godfrey. And he simply couldn't help from his hospital bed.
"Stay here tonight. The nurse can bring in a cot for you. Don't go back." Though Godfrey didn't know what had happened, or even if anything had, he had a bad feeling about it. He wanted Yoonjo away from the house as much as humanly possible.
ｓｔｒｅｎｇｔｈ // ｇｇ & ｓｙｊ { ｐａｓｔ }
Yoonjo almost bounced through the door of the hospital, her jovial aura earning her a few smiles but even more exasperated stares. She, however, remained unfazed, sauntering her way towards the check-in desk like she had done so many times before. A petite brunette looked up from the computer screen, a warm smile making its way onto her face. “Yoonjo! Has it been a week already?” Yoonjo gave a small wave of her slender fingers, returning the smile with every ounce of enthusiasm she could muster. “Yes ma’am, it has! How has work been?” “Ah, you don’t want to hear about my boring week. Go see your brother, sweetheart.” She waved one last time, wishing her a good day as she went. The nurses knew her by name, having realized they were going to see her like clockwork as she came to visit her brother.
The door to the lobby elevator opened with a soft ‘ping’, a gentleman in a business suit giving her a forced smile as they made eye contact. She gave a slight nod of her head, taking her place tucked in the corner of the small compartment, her mind occupied with the thought of seeing her brother. It had only been a week since she’d seen him last but to her a week was an eternity. It was a week she spent completely alone, her mother too drunk to even get out of bed or in a hazy fog from some assortment of pills while her dad only asked to see her when he wanted something from her, whether it be hauling her to an event or showing her off to other companies to try and earn partnerships. The one day a week she managed to escape, even if it was to this hospital, was her sanctuary.
The doors slid open, revealing the floor she knew by heart. At the very end to the left would be Godfrey, waiting for her like he always did. Her shoes clacked across the cold, linoleum floor as she made her way down the hall, a bright smile racing her features as she caught the eye of the nurse coming out of Godfrey’s room. A pained look flashed across the woman’s face and Yoonjo could see shutters come down behind her eyes. The look turned Yoonjo’s blood to ice in her veins, her heart hammering so loudly that she could no longer hear the sharp clack of her heels against the floor. “Yoonjo,” she began softly, clamping a comforting hand on the younger girls shoulder. “Your brother isn’t really feeling all that well today. Chemo really took a lot out of him, he just needs to rest so he can’t have any visitors today.” Yoonjo took a step back, pulling her shoulder away with a scowl. “I’m not a visitor, I’m his sister. Those models that love him, his business associates, they’re visitors. He would want to see me.”
The nurse’s lips pursed into a thin line as she straightened up, the look on her face indicating that she was clearly torn with the situation at hand. She had known the two siblings during Godfrey’s entire stay and was well aware of how much they cared for each other. She was aware of how happy seeing Godfrey made the teenage girl but she was also painfully aware of how vulnerable and weak Godfrey felt being so sick. He couldn’t be the person he thought he needed for Yoonjo and it would hurt him just as much as the chemo did for her to seem him in that state. “I’m sorry Yoonjo, but you need to go home.” She outstretched an arm, doing her best to herd Yoonjo away from the room that held her brother and for a moment it seemed like she would leave without resistance. That, however, was not the case. She turned her back to the nurse, walking a few steps back towards the elevator before turning quickly to dart underneath her arm. The nurse wasn’t expecting the trick and wasn’t nearly as nimble as the dainty girl and before she could even react Yoonjo had her hand on the doorknob, gaining entrance to the room.
"Godfrey, that woman told me I couldn’t-" She had wheeled into the room, her temper as hot as fire, but was cut short by the sight in front of her. The horrible, confining tightness she had felt earlier returned to her chest and she had to force herself not to turn away. His appearance was pallor and though the air conditioning blew cold, his face had a sheen of sweat. Her bag clattered to the floor, forgotten in the moment, as she rushed to wet a washcloth. Slowly, she began dabbing his face as the familiar pricking of tears hit her eyes. He seemed to be asleep, which was better than having to be awake and in pain. Even if she didn’t get to speak with him this trip, just seeing him was enough to ease her heavy heart.
"Come stop your crying, it will be alright. Just take my hand and hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you." It came out as the ghost of a whisper, her voice cracking from emotion as she continued to gently stroke his face with the cool washcloth. "I will be here, don’t you cry."
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ｓｔｒｅｎｇｔｈ // ｇｇ & ｓｙｊ { ｐａｓｔ }
Godfrey moaned, rolling onto his side. Chemotherapy wasn't going the way he wanted it to - but after only his second round of it, he knew that he wasn't adjusted yet.
"How are you feeling, kiddo?" He heard a voice from the doorway, but couldn't muster up the strength to turn and face it. If there was anything that Godfrey truly hated, it was feeling weak. And he was sure he had never felt quite so weak in his entire life.
The man offered a slight groan in response, forcing himself to roll over onto his back. "I feel fantastic." He laughed weakly, eliciting a soft laugh from the nurse. She crossed the room to his bedside, leaning down to place a hand on his forehead.
"You have a slight fever, but it's not as bad as earlier, so that's good." She pulled back, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know, you're way too tall for these beds. We really need to get you a different one."
Godfrey had hardly noticed - he spent so much time curled up into a ball that it didn't matter that his full 196cm frame didn't fit in the tiny bed. He answered with a small belch, causing him to clamp his hand over his mouth. "I need--"
That was all he needed to say before the nurse rushed over with a plastic basin that Godfrey was all too familiar with. His stomach clenched, and he dry-heaved a few times, the nurse rubbing his back soothingly. "You probably don't have anything in your system to get rid of. You haven't eaten or drunk anything in days," she murmured. She was definitely right - all Godfrey managed to spit up was bile that burned the back of his throat and left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Maybe I should eat more sweets. At least then this would at least taste better," Godfrey laughed, the nurse rolling her eyes.
"Right, because sweets would make you feel better." Her gaze fixed on Godfrey for a moment, and the male laid back in bed, placing a hand on his own forehead. "Is your sister coming in today?"
Godfrey's heart jumped, which only made his stomach churn more. "No, she can't come today," he sighed, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "I-- She's coming, but... please don't let her in." Tears prickled behind his eyelids, and he allowed them to flutter shut. There was only one person in this world whom Godfrey cherished above his job and his own livelihood, and that was his sister, Yoonjo. He was the older brother. He was supposed to take care of her.
But here he was, in a hospital bed all the way across Seoul. The furthest he had ever been away from her. And he wasn't strong. He couldn't be strong for her now, and he didn't want her to be strong for him. "You know she just wants to see you, Godfrey," the nurse frowned, resting a hand on Godfrey's thin shoulder. "She always calls and asks about you. She worries about you so much."
"That's what's wrong though." His voice wavered, and he nearly felt like vomiting again. "She worries about me. She's only fifteen. She's--" Godfrey's stomach lurched once more, and he sat up, the nurse quickly rushing to his side. He vomited once more, this time more prolifically - it was all bile, but with the faintest red tinge to it. He knew that couldn't possibly be a good thing. The sight sent shivers down his spine, and he took in a few ragged breaths. "Don't let her in. Please."
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There was someone that Godfrey had had his eye on for quite a while - a young boy that the entire city seemed to know of.
His name was Kyungsoo, but that was just about all Godfrey knew. That was all anyone really seemed to know - that, and the fact that he was homeless. Godfrey stuffed his free hand into his pocket, the other clutching the last bite of an ice cream cone. Ice cream was easily his biggest weakness. He popped the bite into his mouth, dragging his thumb across his lips to wipe any debris away.
Now, he had only one thing to focus on - Kyungsoo. Godfrey had been so tempted a long time ago to simply steal the boy off the streets and perhaps offer him a home in the residence that the Gao models lived in. But something told Godfrey that would be quite overwhelming for the boy. There were upwards of four hundred models living in the giant apartment complex in the center of town; most, if not all, female. The last thing Godfrey wanted was for the boy to feel out of place.
And so, he decided that he would offer his help in any way that the boy could possibly want it. It wouldn't hurt to ask, he decided. He cleared his throat, pulling his hands from his pockets and walking across the dewy grass to the bench that the boy had set his sights on. He came to sit beside the young man, crossing one leg over the other as he looked over.
"Your name is Kyungsoo, am I right?" he asked with a friendly smile. Godfrey clasped his hands atop his knee, tracing his tongue over his lips. No matter how used to being around people Godfrey was, he always grew nervous before others. "I always see you out here on your own - don't you have anywhere to go, sweetheart?" He furrowed his brows, frustrated by the entire situation. If there was anyone who didn't deserve the hand life had dealt them, it was Kyungsoo.
"Is there anything I can do to help you? Do you need somewhere to stay? Money for food?" He stopped himself, realizing he was likely laying it on too thickly for having just met the boy. He cleared his throat, bowing his head in apology. "I'm sorry, I haven't-- Ah, I'm Godfrey. I just... want to help you. If that's okay with you."
[ vagrant - Kyungsoo + Godfrey ]
Change wasn’t something Kyungsoo embraced. A creature of habit, a lover of the beaten path. It was much easier that way. Any form of routine he could somehow conjure while living on the streets was a blessing. And that was exactly why he had almost shed tears at the sight of police ‘do not cross’ tape cordoning off the hostel in which he spent most of his nights. He knew the people there, the staff knew him, he knew the layout, he’d even picked a favourite room; number 16.
It felt like a giant loss, as if someone dear to him had taken their untimely departure into whatever place lay in wait of the dead. Of course he knew it was stupid, it was just a hostel after all, but it was a place he liked to refer to as home.
Kyungsoo trudged along the sidewalk, keeping as close to the buildings as possible each time a car passed. There was a list of places he’d made in his head long ago, places he could sleep in and not be disturbed by the police or other vagrants wandering the streets. The number of homeless had dropped significantly though, Kyungsoo wasn’t surprised, what with the Origami killer around. He’d thought about moving out of Seoul, but he was never sure if he could handle such a large change or not, even when it was a life or death situation.
He came to a stop across from a park, eyeing the bench under a large tree. Nobody ever seemed to stop and sit anymore. Everybody was in a rush these days. Not that Kyungsoo really minded, it meant he could occupy a bench and it wouldn’t bother anyone in the slightest. With a brief glance left and right, he crossed over, eyes trained on the wooden seat.
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Godfrey Gao for Brand [x]
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Godfrey had allowed himself to rest his eyes for a while, but he doubted sleep would come to him. His stomach was far too tumultuous, and his head was pounding far too much to allow him a moment of rest. And he wasn't much of a fan of the sharp tingling in his fingers and toes. He was truly miserable; and what made it worse was that he was alone, save for the few moments that the nurse came in and saw him.
But a timid voice caught his attention, the man wincing slightly at even the slightest of sounds. "Hey, Jongsuk," he croaked, forcing himself to sit up slightly in bed. Whatever it was that the younger man had brought in smelled delicious, but didn't do much to settle his stomach. He pressed a hand to it as he turned his head to look at the only visitor he'd had since being admitted to the hospital.
Godfrey reached a hand up to cover the bald spot on the side of his head, trying to make it seem nonchalant and unintentional. "You're going to make me fat if you keep bringing me so much food," he teased, brushing a few stray pieces of hair from his pillow in the hopes that Jongsuk wouldn't see it. His hair was one of his favourite features - but he wouldn't be so lucky as to keep it much longer.
"Is that ox tail soup?" Godfrey wasn't the best cook in the world, which was why he had his own personal chef. But having Jongsuk around definitely made his life easier. And since his personal chef couldn't very well stay at the hospital with him and make his food, Jongsuk was the closest he got to a home-cooked meal, and he appreciated every single one.
He fought back a fresh wave of nausea, hoping that he could keep it at bay long enough to enjoy what Jongsuk had so graciously brought him. "You know, you coming over is always the best part of my day." He offered his student as much of a smile as he could manage, resting his head back against his pillow. "How are you?"
ｓｏｍｅｂｏｄｙ // ｇｇ & ｌｊｓ { ｐａｓｔ }
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Godfrey offered Jaerim a bright smile as he dished out the two pork buns with trembling hands. Maybe it was wrong of him to enjoy this slight moment of worry - because now, Godfrey would have the opportunity to see immense relief wash over the other's features. That would definitely be rewarding to see. He accepted the bag with a bow of his head, breathing in deeply to savour the smell.
"I know I'll enjoy them. I always do," he grinned, reaching into the bag to pull one out. He wasn't the most patient when it came to food, especially Jaerim's pork buns. They were, hands down, the best in all of Seoul; or, he would venture so far as to say they were the best he'd ever eaten. And Godfrey was quite well-traveled.
Godfrey shook his head. "I'm not joking about buying your stand, no." He gave a slight shrug. "But that doesn't mean I intend to do anything with it. I wanted to invest in your stand, because it's, by far, the best food in Seoul. I wouldn't wish for this place to close in a million years." He chuckled good-naturedly, taking a hearty bite of his pork bun. As usual, it was delicious, but he wouldn't have expected any less from the famous pork bun guy.
"I want to help you!" His words were muffled by his mouthful of bread and pork, but the enthusiasm shone through. "If you ever need anything - you know, like flour or pork or... whatever goes into your buns, the expense won't come out of your pocket or out of what you make for the day. I got that all covered." He swallowed, licking his lips. "God, these are good. How do you even do it?"
Godfrey tucked the bag under his arm, taking extra care not to crush the fluffy bun. "I just want to make it easier for you, so that you never have to close. Keep doing what you do, because you know, Seoul really wouldn't be the same without our pork bun guy."
ｌｏｃｋｅｄ ａｎｄ ｌｏａｄｅｄ // ｇｇ & ｓｊｒ
Jaerim wouldn’t mind if the day didn’t quickly pass by. The way the steam from his fresh pork buns weaved between the strands of his hair was enough to keep the smile on his lips; there couldn’t have been a better feeling than admiring your own handiwork that was also admired by others. The main perk of relocating to a new area each time was that he met countless new faces, meaning, more lips to bring a smile upon with a simple pork bun.
The surrounding suburb was rather quiet, much in contrast to the bustling main roads lined with uncountable street food stalls and passerby people with food half-shoved in their mouths. Jaerim could never stand such places; too much noise and he’d feel as if he’d rip all his hair out. The business didn’t matter to him; even now he could attract just as many customers than if he set his stall up in a busier area.
Jaerim was busy kneading specially-made dough; it was necessary to make sure that his pork buns were of the highest quality and standard. He had realized how rough his hands had become after all these years of working the family business, but it was the evidence of hard work and dedication he had towards the success of his pork buns. Brushing the hair from his eyes, Jaerim sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of any negative connotation, but one of contentment.
It took Jaerim a moment to realize there was another person standing before him. “Ah, hello. Would you like some pork bu—” His eyes flickered up to see a taller man, a man that he was all too familiar with. A smile was brought to Jaerim’s lips. “Godfrey. I’m glad to see you again.” A frequent customer of his, and a highly welcomed one; Jaerim couldn’t have been happier to provide his pork buns to the other male who he knew loved them oh-so-much. He had to admit, on the rare days that Godfrey didn’t come by, Jaerim would actually feel saddened.
But the next words that came from the other’s mouth caught his breath. “Wait, what—” He cocked his head. “You… bought my stand? My pork bun stand?” He grasped the envelope, almost reluctantly, and opened it. Even by a mere look, Jaerim knew the contained amount of money was far more than he could comprehend. It was probably somewhere in the millions, much to his shock. He looked back up at Godfrey. “But why…” His mouth was left half-opened, being completely speechless in disbelief. “My stand is all I have left, I—”
He blinked at Godfrey’s request to buy some pork buns. “O-oh, of course.” Jaerim fumbled with the lid of the steamer, opening it to reveal a set of freshly steamed pork buns. Retrieving two of the most appealing ones, he gently placed them in a paper small bag before handing them to the other male. “Please enjoy, like always.” With a smile and a slight bow of the head, he accepted Godfrey’s money. “But… you’re joking about buying my stall, right?” Jaerim couldn’t be so certain of the other’s intentions.
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Godfrey didn't normally like taking days off. There was so much that he could be doing; coordinating shoots, assigning photographers, hiring new models. Anything but going to the harbor to dip his feet in the icy cold water. But at the moment, he couldn't talk himself out of it. And it would only be for an hour or so, in any case, and then he could go right back to work.
Possibly. His phone rang constantly. He was always on it. He reached two fingers up to press the call button on his bluetooth headset. "Godfrey Gao speaking." How many times had he even said that in the last twenty-four hours? Definitely too many. He was growing tired of hearing his own name.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, mind far from work as it set on the harbor. "Yes, yes, the appointment is tomorrow... right, I'll be sure to get off--" Once the harbor came into sight, the stretch of golden sand greeting Godfrey, so did a seemingly lifeless figure, lying on the beach. Was that... blood? "Shit! I-- I gotta call you back."
Godfrey wasn't sure he had ever parked quite so quickly in his life, only managing to park half in one parking spot and half into the other, front tires of his Jeep going up over the curb. But for the moment, he couldn't have possibly cared less.
His leather shoes didn't lend him much traction in the sand as he ran to the injured man's side, succeeding in throwing the man's equilibrium off a few times, landing him in the sand. His suit was done for, he knew, but that was the least of his concerns. He fell to the younger man's side, heart thudding wildly against his ribs.
"Hey, can you hear me?" he asked desperately, as loudly as he could manage in the hopes of rousing him if he had indeed passed out. But nothing he did seemed to make the man move in the slightest. Godfrey let out a loud breath, inspecting the damage. His nose was more than likely broken, considering the rather painful-looking angle it had taken on. And the man was soaking wet.
Godfrey's eyes narrowed, but he pulled out his phone to call for emergency services. "Hello, yes, I need an ambulance-- Yes, the harbor. Someone's on the beach here out cold, and I think his nose is broken, I-- Yeah, I'll be here." With a loud sigh, he dropped his phone to the sand, smoothing the stranger's fringe from the angry red cuts dotting his features.
"God, please just be alive," he begged quietly, reaching a hand out to take the other's gently. He turned it, pressing two fingers to his wrist to feel for a pulse. There had to be something. He couldn't be dead.
The pulse beneath Godfrey's fingers was weak yet definitely there. "Thank god," he breathed, bowing his head as he allowed the man's hand to drop to the sand. "It'll be okay. I know you can't hear me, but... we're getting help, okay? You'll live, I swear you will."
✘ Lead In My Lungs — ' pt.2
The harbor, the harbor, the harbor.
It was the only thing he could think about and he paid no mind to the speed limit, this time around there was no one on his side as he ran his fingers contentiously and nervously through his hair. His brows her furrowed and the stream of tears seemed to be never ending, his vision was betraying him - certain lines blurring together for a moment which caused him to swerve, it had also caused him to become painfully close to running a red light. Shoving his foot down on the break pedal which ultimately threw him forward in his seat as the loud sound of his tires screeching against the cement of the street shrieked in his ears.
Being thrown forward his face had made a connection to the steering wheel, a loud cry emitting from his throat as he was also thrown backwards against his seat as his car came to a stop to the red light. Seos breathing had become erratic as he tried to compose himself, but all he did was grip the steering wheel and throw himself back and fourth and emit a loud ear splitting scream.
Frustrated,
Confused,
absolutely fucking livid.
He sat there and wondered why out of all of the hundreds if not thousands of people in this city, why was it him that was chosen? Of course he would never wish this upon anybody, not this gut wrenching feeling. There was a continuously building trepidation in his chest, it was causing his bones to ache with each and every breath that passed through his clenched teeth and urged another sob to break through.
The light turned green and he shoved his foot down on the steering wheel and he tried his best to ignore the strong pulsating in his face, the pain that was building with every pulse. He was going to have some pretty large bruises on his face the next day, the muscles on his face were surely ripped and strained and were going to ache. And the whiplash would easily be more than enough for him to remember this night, amongst all the other things.
Adrenaline was starting to course through his veins but it felt like ice, he was getting closer and closer to the harbor and as he got closer the more he pressed down on the gas pedal, he had his seat belt on and from his knowledge he was fallowing the instructions properly. He hoped to god there wasnt a small detail he was missing, all he could imagine at the moment was his sisters face and what her smile looked like - and what her laugh sounded like. There was doubt whispering in his ear that was pulling him into a dark place and thinking that he wasnt going to see her again.
Since the day his sister was born, he promised to himself that he would do everything in his power to take care of her. Hell, he was the one who taught her how to walk. He was the reason she passed her hardest classes with flying colors, she was nineteen now and she was growing into a beautiful young woman, and her life was being threatened. Her legs, oh god her legs. The thought of her screaming in pain from her legs being broken and nothing to numb the pain was too much.
I’m sorry, i’m sorry, oh my god im so sorry.
Sorry for what? he wasnt exactly sure, maybe if he did something differently she wouldn’t be a target - somehow and some way this was his fault. The harbor was in his view and all he could hear was the sound of his heart beating, reverberating loudly in his ears before pressing all the way down on the gas pedal. Seo was easily going about 90 already - what was ten more miles? Closer, and closer he was starting to get scared.
A fresh batch of tears were rolling down his cheeks as he was less than a minute away from driving over the edge of the harbor and into the ocean just as he was instructed, if his hands weren’t holding onto the steering wheel so tightly they would be a trembling mess. So many out comes were going through his head but it was too late to lay on the gas pedal.
He was already falling into the ocean.
Everything went in slow motion from that point on, it was like riding a roller coaster for the most part. The entire drive there was like the long anxiety ridden drive up, and now he was at that part where it went down. Your stomach in your throat, your heart in your stomach. Seo hardly noticed when the car made a strong collision against the water until his face smacked against the steering wheel once again as the front of the car went nose first into the water.
It was very safe to say that his nose was broken, the taste of iron was thick in his mouth as he swallowed down the blood. A gasp ripped through his lungs as disorientation delayed his reaction time, to unbuckle the seat belt and to get himself out of the car. He was in the car but he couldn’t breath, his chest was tight and breathing felt like he was inhaling fire and the flames were curling in his lungs.
I have to get out.
But he couldn’t move either, his fingers fumbled with the buckle but his fingers were numb and he couldn’t tell if he was applying pressure or not. Trying over and over again to press down on the button to release him from the bindings that were meant to keep him safe and it was more of a chore then he wanted it to be, but finally he felt the click through the numbness and the lock on the buckle released him and he fell forward.
Get out.
In order for his sister to survive he needed to get out, or at least thats what he assumed since the wasnt given precise detail on how this was supposed to work. Or if he was doing this all for nothing and just playing into a game for the means of amusement by a sick and twisted person, fear drove people to do stupid things, and love drove people to do dangerous things.
Seo loved his sister more than anything else on this planet and that was what pushed him to grab onto the handle of the car door, he took a large breath in and god it burned so much. His hands were trembling violently and it was hard for him to find the strength to open the door - especially when his bones at this moment felt like they were replaced with rubber.
He had to do this, Seo used his shoulder and used all of his weight to shove against the door and push himself out. The car filled with water and started to fall down faster, the current from the car dragging down pulled him down more. Seo flailed through the water as he wasnt sure which way was up, eyes closed shut tightly and just pushed himself to swim - anywhere. It was a lot harder to swim in the water with clothes and shoes on, he didnt know how deep he was in the water or how long he could work past the pain and hold his breath.
Struggling to kick his shoes off he didnt care, they were holding him back - these were just things. He could buy more. But now he had to get out, find his way up. Save his sister by getting out, somehow this was going to save her life - whatever it took was okay, though.
The pain in his chest was too much.
Unable to hold his breath any longer he panicked and frantically swam up towards where he assumed the surface was, his throat was struggling as it restricted against the inability to take in air and he opened in mouth to take in a gasp and water filled his lungs. But he was so close, his eyes were opened through the salt water and he could see the moon. But it was starting to get cloudy and all he could see were black dots, and suddenly couldn’t feel his ligaments.
The next couple seconds lingered as everything became hazy, one more stretch up and his head got above water. A loud gasp ripped through his chest and a he coughed up water, the taste of iron and salt coating his tongue. Air filling his lungs, and as much as it hurt it was nice to get some air. Frantically looking for the shore he started in the correct direction, it was far - god it was so far.
Using whatever strength he had left to push himself to swim the most he could, his muscles burned and his calf muscles were cramping. Closer and closer he was getting to the shore, it was just a couple yards away. It was worth it this would be over soon and his sister would be safe and sound and things would come back to normal and he would be able to see his sister grow up and get married and be able to be an uncle and help her raise his kids.
This was what he had to think about as he swam to the shore, to picture what she would look like in a wedding dress and what type of man she would fall in love with. He was almost there, and the waves were helping him along the way. Reaching the shore a couple minutes later and he was only able to crawl up a couple feet before he had to stop and throw up everything in his stomach. Mostly bile and salt water, and some blood from a few busted teeth and when he chewed on his cheek.
The burn wasnt getting easier to deal with, getting sick in the sand didnt exactly help his throat that already felt like it was shredded from inhaling water. Gasping for a breath of air between heaves, the taste was something indescribable. Doubling over against the sand, his chest heaved as more tears welled up in his eyes.
He did as he was told.
And now he had no idea what was supposed to happen.
He was so, so tired.
Warmth pooled through out his chest and his eyes were so so heavy, fluttering and blinking furiously as the tears mixed with the salt and the sand. His mouth was dry and all he could taste was bile and blood, it didnt take long for him to close his eyes, a human being could only take so much stress and his body was shutting down and telling him he had enough.
The last thought that lingered in his mind before he passed out on the sand with no idea what tomorrow held for him was;
what now?
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