Healer

‘With this kind of fragile skin, even just a little bit of washing won’t make any marks. The lip colour is similar to the colour of the nipples, hmm…’

Yaba turned off the shower head. He lifted his belly fat and wiped the water thoroughly. A round nipple was visible over the flabby forearm. Perhaps it was because of the lighting in the bathroom, the bumps were subtly blushed. At that moment, he had the illusion that Cha Yiseok had been looking at Yaba’s lips. His language was always so ingrained in his head and the following times they met, the previous words would be pushed out and replaced.

It was the moment when he finished brushing his hair and reached for his clothes. Someone was staring at Yaba in the mirror. Heuk! Yaba was so startled that he jumped backwards. He froze on the cold floor before he could feel the pain.

He was a man who showed up from time to time. He was as thin and pale as a corpse, was always expressionless, and had a beautiful face. Unfamiliar yet familiar, he was as unpleasant and terrifying as an insect. After a while, he got up with a sore back. Carefully looking in the mirror, the man was gone and only the frightened pig was there. He couldn’t be more happy with his own face. Yaba sighed deeply and slid into his clothes.

He pulled out a small piece of paper from his personal closet. He carefully took the white powder inside and put it into his hand. Coming out of the bathroom, Cocaine was humming “Once Upon A Dream”.

Once upon a dream, I was lost in love’s embrace.

There I found a perfect place, Once upon a dream…

Dr. Jekyll, who had amplified the evil that was latent in the abyss and brought it to ruin, the voice of the supreme love for the monster melted away. To purify the evil that has engulfed the Doctor, to save the lover at the crossroads between good and evil…

Yaba plugged his ears and walked towards his desk. It was said that Cocaine’s voice would make even those who have fallen into hell be brought up to heaven, so why can’t it purify his rusty heart? As his songs became more beautiful, Yaba fell into the abyss. That’s why he distrusted miracles.

As he asked Cocaine not to sing, Cocaine asked.

“What kind of showers do you take? You’ve done it a few times earlier too. By the way, did you fall? I heard something…”

He was in a bad mood because of the pale man he had seen a while ago. Ignoring Cocaine’s question, Yaba went through his drawer. He poured the antidepressants into his mouth. Cocaine went back to practice.

The only comforting thing was the appearance of Cocaine trying. If he only believed in God-given abilities, he would have cut the cocaine’s vocal cords with a cutter knife. Once upon a time, Yaba was also only focused on singing. Unluckily, he got caught by a pimp, had his balls stolen, held in captivity like cattle… But he’s been fond of singing since he was a kid.

However, no matter what he did, he could not keep up with cocaine, and the lingering feelings disappeared. Closing your eyes, covering your ears, and neglecting yourself was the easiest way to get out of pain. Meanwhile, Cocaine has drifted so far as to be seen as a black dot.

Yaba chewed the antidepressant and walked to the water purifier. He turned his back to cover Cocaine’s sight, and then drank the water. The antidepressant, which was swept up in the water, ran into the oesophagus. He put his cup on the shelf next to the water purifier, and this time he poured water into Cocaine’s cup. The white powder prepared earlier was added to the water. A potion that will save Yaba from this darkness, which eats away the life of Cocaine…

Stir so that no residue is visible. All of his movements were sublime and sincere like a ritual. He placed Cocaine’s cup on the desk and washed his palms. It was then that Yaba’s heart was at peace. The black dot stopped singing, he said.

“Oh, I put the playlist that the boss gave me on the desk. It’s four songs, one is a pop song so it’ll be fine.”

Yaba scanned the list on the paper dryly.

“In this way, it seems that the gutter can become a flower garden.”

“I know.”

Cocaine smiled and agreed. The songs the singers would sing were chosen by Giha. Apparently he was a former gangster, but whether he originally liked opera or listened to opera because of this, the songs were mostly Arias. It was because of Giha that they only had to sing foreign songs. The guy thought opera was a good fit for Paradiso’s patrons.

When Giha selected a song, the eunuch singers had to search the internet to write Italian lyrics in Korean pronunciation and memorise them blindly. As for the interpretation of the song or whatever, time was always tight, so most of it was memorised without knowing the meaning. If they couldn’t memorise the song, they were imprisoned in a warehouse and given a penalty as a bonus. In those 10 years alone, more than 1,000 songs were sung. As repertoire slowly ran out, Giha turned to pop-opera, musical classics, and fusions.

Yaba laid down on the bed and opened Edgar Allan Poe’s novel. When he got to the part where the man’s wife had brought the cat, he put the book aside, and this time read the newspaper, which had only scrapped crime articles. Novels and newspapers were excellent textbooks for Yaba, who was currently studying the perfect crime. Crime. Was it a crime to do something like this with Cocaine’s water every day? Yaba regarded this act as that of a craftsman. A craftsman who painstakingly refines the shape one by one over a long period of time and dedicates his life to creating a finished product. The fall of Cocaine would be Yaba’s greatest masterpiece.

Yaba stopped reading a few lines of the newspaper and concentrated on the novel. Why can the human eye read only one thing at a time? He would be much more efficient if he read novels with his right eye and newspapers with his left eye. As he thought about it, he wondered about the human body again.

He quickly went to the living room and turned on the computer. There was only one computer, so there was always a fight for a seat, but for some reason the seat was empty. The dorm was a shabby apartment on a street away from Paradiso, and thugs took turns guarding the outside. Paradiso employs nearly a hundred people —including horses, snakes, and dogs— but only the eunuchs are monitored for every move.

As he opened the internet window, Marijuana and Morphine came out of the bathroom and into his room.

“Crazy bastard! Move! I had been using it and went to the bathroom for a while!”

“What a shame! I should have come a little sooner… !”

The two clapped their knees and squished next to Yaba. Marijuana pushed in and said.

“Move. I said I was using it?”

“Use it when I get up.”

As Yaba responded apathetically, Marijuana changed his tactics and spoke gently.

“Can’t I use it first? I’ll just search for a movie and leave.”

“No.”

“It’ll only take five minutes. I had a film in mind so I’ll be finished soon? Oh, don’t be like that, do you want to go to the movies together tomorrow too?”

“No. You go.”

Yaba replied sharply. Marijuana twisted his little lips.

“You should also go shopping and watch movies sometimes. It’s because you’re always in the corner of the room that your personality is like this.”

Yaba said with his eyes fixed on the monitor.

“Then what if the movie theatre catches fire and you burn to death?”

“What are you talking about? The movie theatre facilities are so good these days?”

“It’s a trick to put people at ease and lure them in. Even if you have a fire extinguisher, it’s useless because it’s broken. If you die there, your fingerprints will be burned away, so no one will know who we are because it can’t be compared. People whose social security numbers have been removed like us are not accepted in cemeteries or charnel houses. Corneas, kidneys, and other useful organs are taken out and distributed at will. It’s better to just stay at home quietly than to be dissected and scattered across the country.”

Yaba and Cocaine were considered dead after their disappearances, some others were falsely reported as overseas adoptions, and there were many people from the streets whose births were not even reported at all. So even though he was alive, he was not a living person, and he was not a man even though he had XY chromosomes.

“I-is it true? The people whose social security number was erased are going to have their guts taken away?! Why?! Up to who!”

When Marijuana became contemplative, Morphine smacked the back of his head.

“Organ donation is bullshit. Do you believe that crazy bastard’s words? In Korea, if you don’t donate voluntarily, not even a single hair will be removed. If you don’t believe it, search it up!”

“R-right? No, I shouldn’t be like this, I shouldn’t be like this but I always fall this madman every time.”

Marijuana scratched his head and looked at Yaba. Marijuana and Morphine, when brought in by force, were rarely pleasant categories. They believed in only savoury money making, bought luxury goods, and even dreamed of enticing Paradiso’s guests and entering the entertainment industry. Not knowing that Giha was exploiting the singers as much as they earn, forgetting that singers are not allowed to be human or men. Morphine was lying on his back and grunting.

“Ah~ If you work only today, it’s a vacation. Playing while other people are working is torturous. Even the downtown area should have the taste of being crowded.”

Paradiso was closed on Mondays. Even though the young men enjoyed their leisure time, they had to return by ten o’clock sharp. This is because of the alarm clocks that Giha installed in the heads of singers.

The clock was uncompromising, fast, accurate, and brutal.

t/n: if yall want spoilers, do let me know in the comments! i could make a spoiler thread on NU but only if someones actually interested lmao