InsaneJournal

trying to be alone never works, of course
Characters: Jun-he and Reece
Setting: Cafe, Courtyard

It was still fairly early in the day, though Jun-he had always been an early riser and simply felt that the better half of it was gone. He slept like a cat back in Busan taking naps when his body called for it and kept alert at all times Kun-su required him, even in the dead of night. It was one of the little things that the boss liked about him. He was reliable and always full of energy, always the spark to get things going.

After he had settled in, for the most park, Jun-he figured quickly that he could not keep held up in his bedroom like some sort of self professed community criminal (a criminal of criminals?). He has managed to sort through the few sets of clothing in his bag and put together a tasteful ensemble of the black chucks graciously stored in a large clear plastic bag, black skinny jeans, black leather belt, and a white beater. Well, it was the best he could do given the dwindled wardrobe he had to work with. To complete it all he added a silver and grey scarf around his neck in layers, reaching partway down his chest.

He walked simply with a task in mind, remembering what he had learned of the facility layout and found himself quickly in front of the community bar, searching casually through what was left of the community stock. It was really weird, he thought, that anything was even left by now. He figured from what he learned in prison that hoarding ones resources was a valuable habit to have and no doubt whoever else lived in this place had learned the same.

Having squatted down to rummage through a mini bar holding the smaller bottles of stranger booze, Jun-he placed the half empty pack of cigarettes upon his right knee and stuck his tongue slightly out on his lip in concentration. He moved each bottle around, taking a quick look at each label.

“Assa!” he excitedly exclaimed as his slender fingers pulled the green bottle from the back of the shelf and closed the door quickly. .

His spirits were definitely high now and his grin quickly turned into a bright smile as he lifted himself back up and wandered through the room, grabbing a shot glass in the process. Making a swift pace to the courtyard for his first breath of the fresh air in the facility, he seemed to revert back to his simple curious state. Though the sun had disappeared behind a cast of grey, he appreciated it no less. It was more of a comfort than anything else to know that it was not all too good to be true, but rather the sun would not always be shining on the rather strange opportunity that landed him.

One quick glance revealed a picnic table across the grounds from where he was. Seeing that no one had taken refuge on it under the beautiful grey skies, he wandered right over and plunked himself down, placing the cigarettes and bottle in front of him. The moment he moved his legs in properly, he uncapped the bottle and poured himself a shot.

In one fell swoop Jun-he threw his head back slightly and gulped the strong liquid following with a “kkthhh” sound through his teeth.

“Little early for that isn’t it?” Reece asked, grinning slightly. He’d loitered in his room, half wondering if Susanna would wander into it again, but after the obvious flirting she’d had with that fucker in the cowboy hat he doubted it. Which meant that his morning was a shower, to the kitchen for coffee and now towards his picnic table for a smoke. There was no reason to think of it as his, but he’d been there more than most hadn’t he?

Setting the ashtray down on the table he went to sit on it, feet on the seat part across from his new companion, fingers digging into his jacket for the latest pack of smokes. It was nice to have his own stash, even if no one was going without he at least had some he didn’t have to share unless he felt truly motivated to do just that. Grinning around his cigarette he lit it, blowing a stream of smoke as he studied the person at the table with him. This one had to be new. “What brings you here?”

After placing the glass down rather quickly, Jun-he stared back at the man for a bit longer than might have been socially normal.

“Manslaughter,” he replied simply, eyeing his present company’s smoke. There was an obvious difficulty in pronouncing that”l” in manslaughter. Yet his own fault did not bother him. He had spent the last four years getting to where he was and he was rather lucky to have gotten by learning than fearing what the next day would bring him.

Beside his green bottle of soju, Jun-he reached for his beaten up pack of cigarettes. He had barely been there long enough to realize that there was a complete flow of cigarettes coming in to the facility that he started to feel possessive of what little he had. It was something he was used to anyway.

“That’s what they say,” he added half sarcastically, lighting his smoke and pouring himself another shot (and obviously ignoring the “early” bit of his booze).

Reece watched his new companion pour another shot, head tilted ever so slightly. “I think they say ‘it’s five o’clock somewhere,” he said as if it was sage advice and not quoting a Jimmy Buffet song. He grinned ever so slightly and for just a brief instant before taking a sip of his coffee and ashing his cigarette. “I am vaguely familiar with manslaughter...though more because I witnessed it than attempted it.” He stuck the cigarette back in his mouth and held out a hand. “Reece Conners. You must be new.”

Introductions were always so cheap. So were handshakes. Making a slight face at the unexpected gesture, the Korean threw back his head once more, quickly taking the soju so as not to leave his present companion hanging for very long.

“Choi Jun-he,” he said quickly, which barely seemed like a name at all.

He made a tight grip on Reece’s hand as he shook it, giving a respectful nod as he did so. Those words he spoke seemed so familiar. Everyone wanted a piece of you if they could find a reason back in the penitentiary and though he knew the surroundings were different, it was still the same game. At least, that was what he figured anyway.

“You either kill someone or you don’t,” he mused with a slight pang of memories he hoped he would forget quicker than he would dwell on, “you don’t get to say you did it all on accident.” It was a very Korean thing to do, offer some sort of philosophy on something you really weren’t sure how you felt about.

“And you?” he questioned, lowering his head slightly to look at his cigarette. Glancing up to Reece, he followed with, “Why are you here?” The question wasn’t intentionally straight forward, as he was sure it wasn’t when it was asked of him. There could be an infinite number of ways the question could be answered and he was rather curious which way the question would go.

Reece nodded, making a note of the name that didn’t sound much like a name. The strength on the grip he supposed was meant to intimidate, but he wasn’t the type to intimidate easily, or even if he did, he didn’t show it. Seven siblings had taught him when to stand his ground. Instead he just smiled until the grip released and went back to his coffee and cigarette. “Oh I am proof they can put you away for someone being dead that you didn’t kill,” he pointed out with a little no, blowing smoke into the air. “Criminally negligent homicide and robbery with a deadly weapon.” Not pretty charges, but his charges nonetheless. He’d grown used to them after five years in jail.

Jun-he furrowed his brow slightly, feeling the soju slightly in his cheeks. It was an interesting statement that he was rather intrigued by. “So they put you away for killing when you don’t, and put me away for not killing when I do?” he stated rhetorically, and clearly had no quarrel with the accusations that had been against him. He accepted them for what they were now. Was this American justice? Well, no, he was well aware at the parallel between most justice systems.

Mostly it was a little amusing how exactly opposite they were in conviction. So he grinned slightly at the worlds way of humoring him and poured another shot in his glass while sucking on his stale cigarette. Perhaps it was a little early for this, but he definitely had not put thought into time, only the simple pleasure he had been denied for so long.

Of course he heard it all the time. People saying they didn’t do something, and people admitting things that were absolutely outlandish. When it came down to it, what a person did and says they do didn’t really matter. Whether or not Reece was telling him the truth though... he didn’t really seem to care.

Reece took another sip of his coffee and nodded. “So it would seem Choi, so it would seem.” He hated that he was put away because of what had happened to his friends. He hadn’t shot them, someone else had, but after all that time in the courtroom, listening to testimony about how they had looked up to him, how they had trusted him from sisters, mothers and brothers, Reece had started to think they were right. Maybe he could have talked both of them out of it. Maybe he wouldn’t have wound up with hands drenched in blood, trying to stop bleeding that he knew would kill his friend. Death was in the air long before his friend had given into it.

“Funny how the world works yeah?” he asked, glancing over with a smirk. “What are you drinking?” he asked nodding towards the unfamiliar looking bottle.

A rather child-like smile erupted upon Jun-he’s face. He looked down at his cigarette, trying hard to rid himself of the smile entirely. It was clearly a little difficult. He both hated and enjoyed it when someone called him “Lee.” What he could not decide at present was whether he wanted Reece to keep calling him that or not. Instead he tackled the question at hand.

“Soju,” he replied, a small grin remaining reminiscent of his once busting smile. To take the attention off his strange stature, he slid the bottle over a few inches and held up the empty shot glass to Reece. It was only polite, after all.

“Maybe like vodka,” he added, his english beginning to fail him between his amusement.

The smile was a touch odd, giving Reece pause as he studied him. It seemed almost out of place, but then the bottle was being pushed closer and Reece was able to focus on that instead. “Vodka...” he repeated reaching for the bottle and sniffing at it before making a face. Shaking his head at the offered glass he reached for his mug again. “I’ll stick to coffee until after lunch.”

“Mmh,” Jun-he sounded with a slight shrug. Even he began to think it was a little early for drinking, but one could never pass up revisiting old memories when they came in the form of a bottle. “I don’t think Americans like to drink the way we do in Korea,” he informed, “It is common like... beer.” Though he didn’t realize it, he had just made his homeland sound like one big alcoholic.

Grinning slightly still, Jun-he poured himself one last shot now that the world began to seem slightly brighter and more... wobbly. The indulgence was over. He took a long puff of his smoke and eyed Reece’s own pack, a little curious expression growing.

“Were those easy to smuggle in?” he questioned quietly, beginning to swirl with a web of ideas on what it would take to keep up his good fortune in a prison-like setting. Even if there was less chance of him needing to get out of sticky situations, it was good to have a safety net and clearly he was still a little behind on the facility’s functions.

By now, he began to really notice his accent was rougher around the edges than he had practiced and his growing curious expression turned to slight annoyance.

“I think there’s plenty of us who drink that way, but I haven’t really been drinking for five years. Best to start off slow right?” Reece smirked slightly then looked at his cigarettes. “No smuggling needed. I ask for them and they showed up. There’s more in the cafe, by the bar, I got my own stash because I asked first I guess.” He noticed the change in accent, not thinking too much of it until Jun-he’s expression. “Told you it was too early to start drinking.”

“Tch,” Jun-he responded with a grin before hammering back his final shot. He was definitely confiscating the bottle as his own. It probably would have collected dust anyway, unless supplies were so low that someone managed to get desperate enough to figure out what it was.

Well, Reece had just informed him of a nice little surprise. Although disappointed that his momentary intrigue in the idea of having things moving in and out of the place was squashed, he at least had a hold on cigarettes again. In celebration, he poured himself one last final shot.

Taking the last inhalation of his half done, old, stale, Arirang cigarettes, the Korean pulled it away and held it in the air briefly. One last look and he leaned over to put it out in the ashtray Reece had brought with him. “Ah, no, Americans drink substantially,” he seemingly informed, “but we do it just differently.”

To that, he smiled and tipped his shot glass to Reece before polishing it off. He was now, for the most part, rather drunk- something he definitely had not planned nor initially wanted to do. His day was certainly taking a turn, that was for sure.

“Kkkkkk,” he sounded, turning his head and shaking off the strong sting of the alcohol. “I need a nap,” he then announced out loud, though originally meant to think. Closing his eyes tightly for a mere second, he opened them wide for about the same amount of time and then quickly stood. So as not to be rude, Jun-he threw over a nod with a bit of a childish, goofy smile and finished with a, “enjoy your coffee.”

Reece continued to watch Jun-he drink with a mildly amused look on his features, alternating between coffee and cigarette. “You’ll have to explain that to me sometime,” he offered since he was curious if it was just a time of day thing or a style, because what Jun-he was doing seemed almost normal to him, minus it being before lunch. It was impossible not to return the smile, despite the fact that Reece’s a grimmer than Jun-he’s. “Enjoy the nap.” He raised his mug in a mock toast then stubbed out his own cigarette.

“Neeee,” Jun-he responded in Korean, completely ignoring his english and giving an ever so slight bow (which was something he never actually had done in America before... or in Korea outside of the gang). If he had been completely sober, he would have felt entirely weird about it. Instead he simply snatched his beaten up pack or smokes and open bottle of Soju and swung one leg after the other over the picnic table bench to mark his leaving... evidently it was a little bit of a difficult challenge that took him an extra few moments longer than normal. At least he didn’t look foolish, just regular old drunk.