Venus

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I'm known as a writer whose writing leaves a deep impression and deep emotion on many people. However, in my life, where I write moving stories, there's no such thing as emotion. All I do in my daily routine is simply write. Both I and my readers are trapped in this frozen routine.

Readers have the sunlight of "me," but for me, who serves as the sunlight for others, there is no light. There is only darkness. I wish someone could become my sunlight, enter my ashen life.

Black and gray are both light, yet they don't shine. So why are they light? My life is gray, and gray doesn't shine. Only my books shine, and the author who writes luminous books is trapped in a dark world. When will I ever escape this grayness? When will I, too, find inspiration?




/




One day, I went to the bookstore for work. My face hardened as I saw my book, not only a bestseller but also the number one novel in the bestseller section. Becoming a bestseller was a dream I'd dreamed of since childhood. But even seeing it in person, even touching my book, didn't bring me joy. There was nothing positive about the emotions I felt. Because of that one book shining brightly at the top, my life was tainted with darkness.

I saw someone reading my book right in front of me. A man standing, intently studying a book. He seemed to resemble me somehow. It wasn't just his outward appearance; he seemed to live in a dark world. His eyes scanned the book without focus, his hands gestured emotionlessly. Impulsively, I grabbed his wrist. He stared at me without saying a word.

"… are you okay?"

It was an impulsive act, an impulsive remark. I knew I wasn't in a position to utter those words. I, too, was trapped in a gray world, struggling. If I couldn't save myself, was it my desire to save someone else in the same situation? You might think I'm just meddlesome. But I've long since abandoned myself for others.

“…”

The corners of his mouth rose slightly to one side, then instantly sank. I knew what that expression meant. It was the kind of expression you make when you're exhausted but have nothing to say to someone who asks if you're okay. Just looking at his condition wasn't enough to warrant asking if he was okay.

“…I asked a pointless question. I’ll change it.”

“Why is it so hard…?”

“…”

He lowered his head without answering. A single tear fell to the floor with a sobbing sound. To others, it might have seemed like a meddling, but I recognized him instantly. I recognized him, trapped alone in a gray world, struggling to see the light. Even though it was our first meeting, I wanted to be a source of strength. Knowing I couldn't be a source of strength to myself, I wanted to be a source of strength to others, at least.

“Shall we move?”

He nodded slightly, without saying a word. I put my book back in his hand and headed out. He followed me without a word. I was simply grateful to him for trusting me and following me.

We sat on a nearby park bench. As I watched the fading sunset, various thoughts crossed my mind, but I turned back to look at the man. Seeing him still sobbing, perhaps lingering, I gave him a gentle pat on the back. He looked up, startled, and I offered him a small smile.

“…How did you know I was having a hard time?”

“Most people who read that book have a difficult narrative, and their expressions are similar.”

“…That’s right, his books are moving and comforting.”

“Well… I majored in dance because I loved dancing so much since I was little.”

“When I’m not competing, I usually don’t practice and just focus on maintaining my condition, but I have to practice every day because of my obsession.”

“Even if my bones were broken or twisted, even if my toenails were torn, even if blood flowed profusely… I devoted myself to dancing.”

“…I have a trauma. There was an incident where my best friend died.”

“If I don’t focus on something, I’ll keep thinking about him and I’ll go crazy, so… I either dance or read a book.”

“No matter how many times I read that author’s books, they leave a lasting impression and provide comfort, not to mention inspiration.”

“The fact that people from all different walks of life read that book and feel the same emotions is proof of the author’s greatness.”

“…I didn’t have parents or friends, so I needed someone to confide in, and thank you for listening to my story.”

“It’s nice to talk to you, even if I don’t know who you are.”

He was overcome with emotion, pouring out his story endlessly. Listening to his narrative, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. He chose dance as a way to forget his friend, and he suffers daily. He's killing himself by dancing, his favorite dance. He's locked himself away in a dark, rainy world.

“Now, please tell me about your story too, you too… It seems like you have a difficult story to tell.”

“…I am the author of the book you are reading.”

“There is no such thing as emotion in my life, which is to write books that touch everyone and leave a deep impression.”

“I feel suffocated and suffocated, as if I am trapped in a gray world.”

“Even though my book is a bestseller and at number one, I’m not happy at all.”

"Because of that shining book, I'm trapped in a gray world. I, who writes that shining book, don't shine at all."

“I hope to inspire and illuminate others, just as I inspire others.”

When I revealed my profession and poured out my heart, he seemed quite surprised. It's understandable. He must have been quite shocked to hear the writer he most admired and respected by everyone reveal his negative feelings.


“…You are that writer?”

"It's quite different from what I imagined. The author, who is portrayed as a lively and confident person, is so depressed."

“… Yes, that’s right.”

“But I like it, because I think the author can relate to my life more.”

“You may have come to me because you felt a sense of kinship with me, but I want to be true friends with the author.”

“How about I become your sunshine, and you become my sunshine?”

In this way, we became true friends, pouring our hearts out to each other and offering each other comfort. Sharing our stories and revealing our feelings, I felt a sense of relief. But my world still held a murky tone.

My heart feels lighter, and I smile more often, but why am I still trapped in this gray world? When will I ever be able to escape? So far, only a single ray of light has entered. When will the one who can fill me with light appear? Will they ever? Everything is filled with questions.

I was more complacent than I thought. The person who would have been my bright sunshine was close by. The reason I was trapped in this gray world was because my heart wasn't fully open. I had rejected everyone who approached me. I doubted even myself, and I refused to open my heart.

But now I realize. He was trying to open my heart, and I was keeping it tightly closed. It was I, and no one else, who was killing me every day. It was I who trapped me in that ashen world. And it was I who could free myself from that ashen world.

With Jimin, who had been a ray of light for me, I had nothing to fear. Jimin had already broken free from his obsession with dancing and was trying new things. Of course, he loved dancing, so he couldn't completely give it up. The longer we spent together, the more Jimin spread his wings.

The longer I spent with him, the closer I became to him. I felt feelings for him for the first time, and I quickly understood what they were. I had been feeling love for him for some time.

We loved each other. Overcoming difficult narratives, we became each other's light, deepening the already deeply etched marks. Before we knew it, we were deeply imbued with each other, deeply moving each other. Trapped in a gray world, we became each other's beautiful, bright rays of sunlight.