처음 그곳으로 가: alternate ending

[deadwine]

This is an alternative scene I wrote to the last scene in 처음 그곳으로 가, the exo (chansoo) flashfic I wrote recently. To be honest, I liked this version better while writing it and so did my friend who read the draft over. But the entire fic is in third person pov and this snippet is in second person which I felt clashed a little too strongly in a such a short fic, and also a story where I wanted all parts to stands independently without having to fall into a standar linear/chronological pattern. Does that make sense?

This is basically the scene in the museum/exhibition, a shot I lifted directly from Heize's MV.

Version posted:

The centre exhibit is a photo taken at an airport, two men facing away from each other with hands reaching out to the other’s suitcase. It’s plain, dull even and Kyungsoo can’t understand the rising emotion in his chest.

His keys clang to the floor and when he rises from picking them up, there’s another man at the end of the wide white room.

The man turns and eyes him with a tilt of his head, like he recognises Kyungsoo but can’t place him.

He starts walking towards Kyungsoo.

One step. Two. His heels tap the marble.

There’s music, something about a rose, crooning from the speakers.

The exhibits swirl around Kyungsoo’s line of sight.

There’s a scene in a coffee shop, on the left. There’s the elevator to the old apartment building, on the opposite wall.

Kyungsoo stands there—or is he waiting?

Is the man looking at Kyungsoo or is he looking through him? When the record stops playing does he stop too, less than an arm’s distance away from Kyungsoo?

Or does he pass by?

How many takes before he stops waiting?

Alternate version:

You watch the man turn towards you with a tilt of his head, like he can’t place you and yet seems to remember you. He starts walking towards you—or towards the direction you’re standing in. Are you really just standing there, or are you waiting? Is he looking at you or looking through you? When the record stops playing does he stop too, less than an arm’s distance away from you? Or does he pass you by?

And if, just maybe, this scene is about choices, as was the moment you switched suitcases at the airport, as was watching a styrofoam cup with a stranger’s name, as was your piercing stare into his shiny eyes in the backseat of the cab: are there only two presented before you?

How many takes before you stop waiting?