want to post a couple of self-paragraphs or share your character's inner thoughts? this is the place to do it! feel free to use this room to explore your character's voice. let your creativity run wild!
seoul. a city that never sleeps. the capital remained teeming with people during the night, bursting with life and a kaleidoscope of neon lights, even as it grew older. voices of laughter, annoyed chatters, resigned sighs, and the honking of vehicles mingled in the air; the seventeen year old son yiahn fidgeted as he cranked the volume of soothing ambient crooning from his bluetooth earphones up. decked in all black and a cap lowered to cover half of his face, yiahn stood in the midst of seoulites waiting for the pedestrian traffic light to turn green.
under guise of him surveying for potential universities to look for in seoul with his. . .classmates, yiahn had managed to book bus tickets. the disinterested look in his aunt's features were expected: why survey universities when surely, they—him in particular—should be aiming for the best?
"location matters, i haven't been to seoul for a while," yiahn had relayed as a matter-of-fact. with a soulless wave, he was dismissed afterwards.
he had not lied, though. he offered the bus tickets to classmates that needed it, be a shadow as they surveyed universities and had taken them to places within seoul. yet he did not return with them.
yiahn dropped by his uncle's entertainment company—they did not let him in, of course, despite having managed to breech until his uncle's secretary desk—casually dropping a closed note to notify that his nephew had visited. then he contacted the reporter that had reached out to him, countless of times, to say that he was now in seoul.
he was burning in spite towards his uncle and aunt. he was burning in desperate need to gain a life he could proudly live for. he was burning in fury at how many years they've used him as a blackmailing tool—to make sure they maintained the life that they wanted. not a single thought for him. so, he took a lesson from their books.
if things were to spill out, would he be able to build himself an entirely new name, new identity, new life, in the aftermath?
the light changed to green and yiahn felt people brushing against his side as they moved to cross the road. son yiahn took one step, noticing the reporter sitting down near the window within the café he had promised for their meeting location. yiahn took another step, pausing as he felt as if he was missing something. no. . .someone.
his little sisters are now part of this equation. what would the scandal do to them? he was sure it would be nothing good. the bond he had built with them. . .he was also sure it could go down to ashes. yiahn let out a frustrated sigh, eyeing the green light as it blinked and the alarm ringing in his ears. what was he to do?
it was then that he received the news, his phone buzzing and texts were continuously chiming in: rang miyeon had disappeared.
without thinking twice, yiahn turned around and headed to the bus station. thoughts of his "cousin" accompany him along the way home. yes, it was for the best he did not reveal that he is the child of byun gunwoo, a ceo of kd entertainment, and choi sora, a retired actress and announcer.
areum, for the lack of better word, has a particular hatred when it comes to the sea.
as ignorant at the age of seven, the girl in her overalls and pigtails is led to believe that such largest body of water’s deepness a tad taller than father chae, probably both to not let the small child wander close han river whenever she’s on her way from school to home and to let herself reject invitations of kids around her age to have a dip on the water out of curiosity. it works perfectly, knowing that — in comparison — areum could make four dresses in one of father’s pants, two for each leg; the fear of word-of-mouth stories about a dweller living on the bottom of the sea, waiting patiently for disobedient children to dip their feet onto the waters the cherry on top of the cake. (areum takes myths and stories alike to heart, both a pro and a con.)
with the proximity of the water once they moved to the new town, areum wants to test the theory for herself.
excusing herself to buy fruit — which, in retrospect, is the truth — areum runs past the market stands until her feet feel unfamiliar and grainy soil wedging in between her toes. there is no concrete plan aside from the fact that she wanted to dip herself in the water, even for a little while, and go home to share her adventure in excitement. twenty-three-year-old areum remembers how much ten-year-old areum marvels the sea once proximity: how the sparkles of the waters look inviting, pristine blue waters calling for her name with every roll of the wave, and the kid is never one to decline the call of something so beautiful.
cut to areum abandoning her slippers along with the small bag of fruit she brought a while ago near the shore as wet sand feels more comfortable than plastic hugging her feet.
cut to despite being small, consistent waves reaching the shore makes a mess on the hem of her dress and on her chest, sprinkles of saltwater find its way on — and, in the middle of her protest with its overpowering taste, she loses footing and tumbles on her back.
cut to the fear of going home heavy on her chest when, couple of heartbeats ago, she’s battling to get to shore — arms and leg flailing with her attempts — thankfully coughing out most of the sand and sea stored in her lungs.
cut to mother and father’s inquiries about her drenched state, to which the kid hast to lie through her teeth to steer away worry from her parents — “it is not much taller than father!” with a huge grin on her face. the promise of letting the secret grow beneath the curtains she carves deep in her heart.
many years later, and a couple of attempts to overcome such fear, areum feels like it’s pointless to put a period on her sea hating phase. as much as hatred is a big word, such word also brings bigger and perfect emotion with what she feels with vast body of water. she’s thankful that its view didn’t trigger her in any way, something she considers as a win in her book.
with how she’s upfront with her distaste towards the sea, she’s more than willing to set aside such feelings for the sake of mister nam.
mister nam, one of her neighbours who, in his earlier stages of life, devotes his life to the sea. and even with his old age, he never stops seeking the salt on his face and waves on his feet.
mister nam, born and graced in kindness and patience that some considered him as an angel in disguise. the same elderly man whom she treats as her grandfather; someone who buys and offers allergy medicine after her usual visits in his share house scattered with stray cats since he feeds them his fresh catch of fish.
mister nam, the elderly she also considers as her friend; someone she confides in her burdens — and the man wipes her tears with fresh tea, and cookies the neighborhood lady offers to him even if he states his dislikes towards cookies.
there is an irrational fear in her heart that is hard to shake away, one that includes her being dumped onto the water and sinking further despite mister nam’s precaution in form of a life vest before sailing beyond the shore, areum is more than willing to set it aside for a couple of hours for his sake.
and when the elderly man scheduled an idle fishing first thing in the morning, areum doesn’t have the heart to say no (nor does have the heart to share about her misfortunes of the sea decades ago both for her sake and his.)
cut to mister nam's boat in the middle of the sea and in crack of dawn, too far from their usual spot (she counts how many seconds away from land), respective poles on their hands and cold to kiss their faces with a job well done.
cut to areum's fears getting the best of her when mildly visible waves (but big to her gaze) rocking the boat back and fourth, eyes brimmed with tears as sanity slips quickly from her grasp.
cut to the rocking back of mister nam due to his big and first catch of the day a collateral for the aggressive sway of the boat — and areum's black and white fear is soon splashed with cold colours and even colder waves.
once sunrise, areum comes home with a bucket full of fish the younger siblings soon feed to their adopted cat, a second round of allergy medicine and a prayer of not catching a cold. mother and father noticed the deep crease on her forehead, and areum isn't one to share one of the things she finds scary come to life.
the ocean, 214. areum, 0. her hatred to the sea still stands. at least she knows how to fish by now.
[ an unsent letter written the night she returned to gohyang. tandem listens “i miss you, i’m sorry” by gracie abrams, “locksmith” by sadie jean and “memory lane” by haley joelle, heavy on the haley joelle vibes. ]
to the one i’ve truly never stopped thinking about,
you know i’ve always struggled with admitting when i’m wrong or i’ve made a mistake. if anyone knows that, it’s you. you did always know me best, but since we’ve gone our separate ways, i’ve made three major mistakes. probably more, but anything else would be simply be nitpicking.
my first mistake, and perhaps my greatest, was breaking up with you. no matter how mutual it may have been at the time, i understand that you truly are just /that/ selfless and accommodating. one of your traits i love and hate about you. it was infuriating, and i think i was hoping you would fight for me. realistically, we both know i was just a coward and hid behind the idea of spreading my wings or whatever bull i spouted as my reasoning. i was so sure distance would break us, so i had to do it first. i wonder if you’re still the same, and i pray you’ve been happy since. i would never wish my pain upon anyone.
which brings me to my second mistake. jumping into another relationship just months later had never been my plan. frankly i never thought i would make it like i did in seoul, so i clung to anything that would ground me and keep me from returning to gohyang like the coward i was when i left. the irony of that statement considering i’m writing this in my childhood bedroom. karma really came for me, huh?
i don’t know if you had even heard, but my last mistake was marrying a man who i doubt ever actually felt anything for me. would you believe me if i said everything moved so fast i couldn’t keep up? next thing i knew there was a ring on my finger and i became one of those sad girls i would always read about in my romance novels.
perhaps i can’t entirely blame him, though, for this not working out. i should be happy he even bothered signing the divorce papers after two years of us both avoiding the real issue. my heart was never really in it. there were so many late nights spent alone where my mind would wander to what could have been if i hadn’t ended things between you and me, midam. i know i would have been happier, but perhaps this is what we both needed to grow. i know i certainly needed to.
do you still think of me, too? are you also plagued with regrets about us? i hope the latter isn’t the case. you were never at fault for anything that happened between us, and i’m sorry for letting the distance grow between us.
?˙— Once a graceful dancer and esteemed ballerina with a promising career ahead of her, Seri's life took an unexpected turn when she made the selfless decision to become the legal guardian of her older brother's daughter. Her parents had disowned her older brother, calling him shameful and a disgrace to the family when he broke off his arranged engagement to follow his heart and marry for love, not convenience. Seri, being a helpless romantic herself gave her full support, and her little heart shattered into a million pieces when tragedy struck the Woo family, and her brother and his wife were tragically taken away in a freak car accident…
She was not even allowed to properly grieve her best friend and his beloved, for the legal battles that took place in the family court and the hurting arguments with her parents at home took up her entire time after the funeral. But despite the threats and ultimatum, she didn't budge in her decision. When the morning came the next day she was no longer the jewel and heir to the Woo family, no longer an esteemed ballerina and public figure but just Seri, mom to baby Kang Micha. From now on, she would dedicate herself entirely to raising her niece. Every day presented new challenges as she navigated the uncharted waters of motherhood and being on her own at so young.
To provide a fresh start for their lives, Seri made the difficult decision to move to Gohyang, leaving behind the familiar comforts of her former life. The transition was far from easy. Seri faced financial hardships, emotional struggles, and the overwhelming weight of responsibility. Yet, despite the obstacles, she knew deep in her heart that she was doing the right thing for Micha.
Amidst the hardships, there were moments of pure joy that made everything worthwhile. One such moment came when Seri's niece, in a heartfelt and innocent gesture, called her "Mommy" for the very first time. The overwhelming rush of emotions that flooded Seri's heart brought tears of joy to her eyes.
It was in that precious instant, in their little corner of their small home, Seri knew that the sacrifices she had made were all worth it, and the bond between them grew even stronger.
The middle school nurse who was always tending to Dongwoo’s wounds gently smacked him in the arm for getting another fight. “You shouldn’t be getting into fights so many times. The teachers and students here like you, Dongwoo. We won’t put anything on your record because we know who you’re fighting for.” Nurse Kwon sighed, gently putting a gauze by Dongwoo’s temple where a cut was bleeding a few minutes ago. “You can’t be a delinquent, you’re a sm–”
“A smart and talented kid, I know. Everyone says that.” The 14-year-old mimicked the older male’s voice, earning a laugh from the nurse. He and other staff at the schools in the then-town have seen Dongwoo grow up. He was pretty smart, friendly, and athletic and his past music teachers spotted his talent and love for singing and performing early. It was obvious he had a bright future ahead of him, his grades on paper were black and white evidence of it. They also knew why his outside-school behavior was hindering him from further growth. He kept getting into fights and all the teachers and staff knew why.
His mothers voice echoed down the hall where the nurse’s office was, repeating the name of the reason Dongwoo had to learn how to fight, defend, and protect. “Dongmin! Dongmin, where is he? Where’s the nurse’s office?” Dongwoo sighed, flinching as the sting of the antibiotic on his patched up skin.
Dongwoo and Dongmin were rarely in the middle school’s health clinic. Before today, they were always taken in by the nurses and staff in the elementary school. That was where the majority of Dongmin’s bullies would target him, and Dongwoo would attempt to get out of class as early as he could to protect his younger brother from some stupid kids. Half the time it would end unfortunately in Dongwoo getting a black eye or a kick in the gut. He was just one kid, albeit a few years older, but they were money. If they found an opening, they’d gang up on him and he’s yell at Dongmin to get as far as he could but where the older brother could keep an eye on him. Once the bullies were satisfied and let out their pent up aggression on Dongwoo, they’d leave Dongmin alone. In later incidents, Dongwoo held his own, ending the fight with barely a bruise.
Today was an outlier, since Dongwoo was held back in class for a music club responsibility and was late. Dongmin naturally went straight from the elementary school to the middle school, luckily avoiding his bullies but they caught up to him. Dongwoo spotted the familiar incident and he put up a fight, just in a different venue. It’s why his mother or father would know where the nurse’s office is in Dongmin’s school but never Dongwoo’s once he entered middle school. The two were always there as the older was being taken care of protecting the younger.
Dongmin had been sitting in the lounge area of the nurse’s office, with Dongwoo stepping out and pushing the curtain aside. Some bruises on his arms, some cuts covered with bandages or gauzes. Since the local school staff were always in communication since students would only really leave for college after high school, they knew everything and they always felt uncomfortable with it. “Mom–”
“Dongmin, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Lee Yoona ran immediately for the young Na sibling, hugging Dongmin tightly and he made some noise with the intent to push her away from hugging too tight. Nurse Kwon gently flinched at the sight. Two brothers, one barely responding and fully safe, and the seemingly self-sacrificing older brother physically wounded. The mother never went to the latter aside from asking what happened during the attempted after school bullying.
“He’s fine.” Dongwoo answered for Dongmin who was probably somewhat paralyzed or just didn’t care enough about the bullies to mention them now. All this lack of attention from his own mother with his physical wounds because of her focus on Dongmin’s emotional ones. Dongwoo absolutely despised himself for feeling jealous, it was like his mother couldn’t see his emotional wounds at all, ones that she caused herself. It was crazy, but he couldn’t allow Dongmin to get hurt too badly. He was probably getting worse during class hours anyways, so Dongwoo never spoke up about this. The nurse sighed, handing their mother a copy of the incident report all filled out by the older brother who had basically memorized the format of.
The staff and faculty couldn’t say anything as well, but they were in pain seeing the neglect of Dongwoo even after protecting his brother who was on the spectrum. They just hoped it would play out well and Dongwoo would come out of all this still a good kid with very little resentment. So far, all they could see was the older brother’s caring side going on overdrive and the sadness and jealousy were always temporary once he felt the younger was alright.
“Let’s go, Ddongddongmin. I can help mom cook that after school food you like so you feel better.” The elder brother spoke, seemingly all fine and dandy with his sweet goofy smile and arm wrapped around Dongmin. He nudged him out of the nurse’s office after saying goodbye and thank you to Nurse Kwon, their mother a few steps ahead of them and their father probably waiting in the car.
"dongmin? the weirdo with his eyes glued to his books and is always talking about crabs?"
"ew, stay away from me.."
throughout elementary school, dongmin was shunned away from every single student who went to the same public school as him. to them, he was different, and different meant bad. it meant that they couldn't be friends with him because what if they became weird too? at first, he didn't find himself too bothered by it. none of them mattered as much as his books did. if anything, them staying away from him was probably a good thing, right? it meant that he had more time to read.
he still wondered, however.
why did they hate him so much? he'd never even interacted with them before. okay, maybe he did. he would tell them about how amazing the 10-legged decapods were and once he started, it was quite hard for him to stop but it was interesting. after all, what other living creature has been around since the jurassic period? they were even older than crocodiles. it was mindblowing and all he did was share that with the rest of his class so why didn't they appreciate it?
he just didn't and couldn't get it but he didn't say a word about this to anyone. yet, his family knew. they were aware of the fact that he was different from other kids. from something as small as the way he interacted with people to the fact that he was far smarter than all of the other kids his age, and knew things that even them as adults didn't made things even more obvious. the only thing they didn't know was just how bad the bullying was...
that is, until, that one day.
dongmin returned to his table after relieving himself at the toilet to scribbles all over his milk-drenched table. worse still, his precious books had their pages ripped out and strewn all over his seat. someone had written the words "get out, weirdo" across the middle of his table.
it was the same day that his parents had made the decision to transfer him out of private school to an establishment that was far better suited for a child like him.
〚 cat chronicle 002 〛
[ dated : august 12, 2023 ]
“so the big city cop is finally back home, huh?” joobin all but glared at the man who had the audacity to say that to her face, her own father. she wanted nothing more than to smack the cocky grin off his face. the old man had always vocalized his disapproval of her career choice, saying how dangerous being a cop would be for their precious only daughter.
in reality, he had wanted joobin to stay in gohyang out of convenience. after all, who else would bail him and her mother out of trouble whenever they were in a financial bind. the vast distance when she was in seoul gave her some reprieve from their demands. yet now, it seemed like he finally got what he wanted.
“just for a bit,” joobin grumbled as she picked at her rice bowl. inviting them to dinner was /clearly/ a mistake. she had an inkling the only reason they decided to eat at a restaurant was because she offered to pay. “we’ll see how things are once the ‘you know what’ gets settled,” she said cryptically. her daughter looked at her curiously, a question clearly on the tip of her tongue yet she was soon distracted by the delicious grilled meat joobin suddenly placed on her plate.
a tense silence filled the air. joobin’s mother smiled somewhat awkwardly and spoke in hopes of breaking said silence. “regardless of how long, your appa and i are happy that you and soomin are here. you know that the offer to stay at our place is still open. after all, how else am i going to spend time with my sweet grandbaby?”
joobin rolled her eyes at the saccharine tone in her mother’s voice. the older woman always used it when she wanted something from her. she wasn't about to let her daughter fall prey to it. “i already told you that i found a place. the house isn't big enough for four people and soomin is a growing girl. isn't that right, sweetie?” the young girl gave her a toothy grin. “yep! i've grown two centimeters since summer!”
she sent her parents a satisfying smirk. “don’t worry. we’ll visit often. now let's enjoy the rest of the grilled beef before it turns into a crisp, alright?”
“Mom – I mean, Manager Choi. Just let me report him. It won’t even get him fired, he’s –” Miyeon begged her mother, in the calmest way possible. She was standing a few feet away from her mother seated at her desk. The older woman in the family scoured through her documents, mildly annoyed at her daughter’s futile attempt at reporting her team manager. It was a man in his late 20s who had been working at the TV station since his post-college internship, and Miyeon was a returning “prodigal daughter” (in her mother’s eyes) who was trying to bring up the alleged harassment against her.
“Miyeon, love. That’s enough … Do you know what reporting him could do to his career? You just barely returned from your freedom in Seoul and he’s been working here for so long.” It stung, hearing her mother defend another man who was invading her personal space constantly after what almost happened to Miyeon back in Seoul. Choi Sora had never truly cared about her daughter’s well-being, she cared about her image and how their family looked even more. “You should be happy he even recommended you to be an anchorwoman so fast, but you barely had a quarter of the episodes your predecessor had.”
“Then find another one. It won’t stain the TV station if I resign by myself right?” The daughter between the two spoke with ice grating at . She hated her mother, but she loved her. She couldn’t like her, not how other people liked the company of their parents. “I think resigning would be responsible on my part, to help you avoid nepotism allegations. The TV station manager has their daughter be an anchorwoman, a bad look for us, right? Even if I wasn’t your first choice for the promotion. I wanted to be involved in behind-the-scenes research and production.”
Her mother didn’t respond for a few minutes, standing up from her seat barely a few inches taller than Miyeon only because of the former’s low-heeled footwear. After a deep exhale from Choi Sora, she put on a customer service smile. It was exactly like her daughter’s. “I think that would be a wise decision, responsible and forward-thinking, my sweet daughter.”
Sora’s arms wrapped around her stiff daughter, pulling her into a deep embrace with the shallowest emotions one could think of. “As long as you didn’t do anything he could report you for, though that doesn’t matter either. I’ll throw it under the table because I love you, Miyeon.”
"the reporters are poking around again," his uncle, byun gunwoo, seated next to him within the car, spoke into the phone. his tone, while flat, was laced with slight urgency. the lines of his jaw tightened, jugular vein visible, and it told son yiahn of how much the man was holding back on his emotions. when gunwoo caught his observing eyes, yiahn turned his gaze back to the book in his hand.
"he's /your/ son, for goodness sake!"
nine years old yiahn stiffened at the elevated voice of the older male. given the small space they were in, gunwoo's voice filled the entire car with annoyance. yet the younger male focused on one thing. was his so called uncle speaking to his. . .mother?
there was a tug in his chest. what was the word again? miss? was it possible to miss someone you have never met before? maybe it's the figure of a mother that he missed. that sad feeling that lingered when yiah wished he had someone he could call "mother" the moment he witnessed his classmates' being picked up by theirs. but even if his mother would appear before him, would he be able to call him "mother"?
after all, he cannot call the man currently beside him "father" and told to use "uncle" instead.
"yiahn," gunwoo called out, tone evened out and firm, as if he's speaking to someone of his own age. "once we are home, we will be packing your stuff."
the nine year old didn't bother to question. he simply nodded.
[ tandem listen to "come home" by max allais and "before you go" by lewis capaldi with a familial perspective ]
winter always brought with it a bitter and cold chill. even if the temperature outside was mild, roh minjun would be reminded of a time when things weren't so cheery amongst his family members. while in the present winter meant his older sister would be coming to visit, there had been a time when it was a dreaded season in his family's household. the reason why his own apartment seemed hardly occupied the moment snow started to decorate the ground.
he was always reminded of the shell of a person his mother had become after his older sister had stormed from the house, belongings already packed or left behind if she hadn't deemed them worthy of the trip. he remembered often feeling like the discarded sweater that never moved from her bed until the fateful day, a few years later, she had decided to reconcile with their parents and visit. beyond cleaning the room of dust, his parents never touched her space, and minjun had watched as the hope slowly died with each year that passed.
he felt like a tightrope pulled to taut between understanding why his sister had felt trapped and abhorring her for going about it in such a dramatic manner. he was sure there could have been some sort of compromise that would have spared many hurt feelings. even their youngest sibling had been shielded somewhat from the aftermath as he stepped up into a role he never thought he'd have to fill.
even moving out himself didn't seem like such a catastrophic event considering every evening he made it a point to come by for dinner, and if he couldn't do that, he spend a lunch break at their house. perhaps he had become too much of a mother hen himself, but it had been traumatic watching the strongest people in his life crumble, and he felt a personal responsibility for keeping them all held together. he doubted he would see much of the world beside the city he had grown up in.
"seoyun, darling, you should really try to be more like your brother. look at where he is now and look at yourself."
seoyun almost sighed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes as her mother babbled on and on (as usual) about how she should strive to be more like her older brother. this wasn't exactly new to her so she was used to it. she knew her mother would stop as soon as she realized seoyun wasn't going to say anything in return.
it had been that way ever since seoyun could remember.
she was constantly being compared to her achiever of an older brother and being told she needed to do better. the comparison came from her parents, and their teachers — it didn't help that seoyun attended the same schools that sangjoon attended. even relatives were no strangers to comparing the two of them. she was always the younger sister who had to fight to show that she was just as good as her older brother but it didn't and would never mean that she hated her older brother.
seoyun loved and admired him more than anything in the world. back in 2nd grade, when she'd received an essay titled 'my role model', she had wrote about her older brother. she was proud of him and it showed on the face of the young girl, and it was no different even at the age of 25 but it was starting to get tiring for her.
would there ever be a day when she could just be cho seoyun and not known as merely cho sangjoon's younger sister?
"i'm heading into the office, mom. i'll call you back later."
seoyun hung up the phone as she gazed up at the tall building that would be her workplace for the foreseeable future. she sighed as she shook her head, plastering her usual big smile on her face before walking into the office.
it was a rare day for soojin to be free. usually, even her off days were filled with catching up on paperwork for calico city. today was different. she had somehow managed to finish everything that needed to be done. for once, she had the luxury to do whatever she needed or wanted to do but didn't /have/ anything that she wanted to do so she found herself seated at one of the window seats of the cafe as she stared outside aimlessly.
people passed by the window as she looked on. there were families with their pets, people who were alone just like her, and of course, couples.
soojin felt a tinge in her heart as she looked at the happy couples who passed by. she remembered the days when the two of them were genuinely like that. the relationship they had now was the complete opposite of what they had been and it hurt — and the more it hurt, the more she threw herself into working tirelessly for the city. it was the only thing that was constant in her life now but what if...
she shook her head to clear her head. there were no what-ifs and she most certainly didn't want to entertain the thoughts of /him/ any longer than she currently was.
"i'll just... head home after i'm done with this cup of coffee."
〚 cat chronicle 002 〛
it was half past nine at night in the city hall. the building that was usually busy with a mix of civil servants and the citizens they served always emptied once the clock struck five. yet the lights of the office belonging to a certain vice-mayor remained on. inside was a disgruntled cho sangjoon, typing away at the keyboard like a madman. he looked away from the monitor screen for a moment and glared at the stack of papers to his left. “it’s your fault that i’m still here,” he muttered, voice laced with utter disdain.
contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t a total workaholic. despite his dedication to his civic duties, sangjoon liked leaving the office at a reasonable time; however, the amount of work had piled up thanks to gohyang’s promotion into a city. there were endless amounts of policies to review and reports to prepare. he had no choice but to stay in the office late if he wanted to get things done. unlike their predecessors, the current government officers were not mere pencil pushers.
thanks to the hard work of him and his childhood friends, jang taeyang and rang soojin, the three of them were able to help their small town flourish into something more. sangjoon would never admit it out loud but he was glad he got to work with both of them. losing the election for mayor to taeyang turned out to be a blessing in disguise since he flourished in a more supportive role. plus it kept him out of the spotlight more often—something he appreciated since he hated acting enthusiastic for the camera.
his parents did not share the same sentiment. for decades, his father coveted the role of mayor and pushed that dream onto his son. sangjoon was swayed by familial duty to fulfill that dream but he “failed” after the effort of trying to be something he wasn’t. his parents would have to settle with the fact that their son was satisfied with merely being the vice-mayor.
sangjoon shook himself out of his reflective musing. perhaps this was a sign to pack things up and head home. with a sigh, he turned off his computer and gathered his things. work would always be there the next day.
[ tandem listen to "painted him perfect" and "happy once" by alexandra kay ]
eunae remembers when she left gohyang, rose-colored glasses fit perfectly in place while the sun was shining and her hand was laced with another's. everything back then had seemed so simple. she had gotten into her dream college, pursuing her passion for music, and she had met a guy who made her heart soar. she should have known eighteen was too soon to believe you found your soulmate.
if it seems too good to be true, it probably is.
and oh did, jung dongmin seem too good to be true.
he had swept her away with his charming personality, doting on her as if she were his whole world. he had quickly become hers. no one had quite supported her career choice like he had, and it was hardly a surprise she had said yes when he asked her to marry him barely a year into their relationship. her parents and friends, from gohyang and seoul, had questioned the speed at which their relationship was moving, yet she couldn't be deterred from pursuing what she believed to be her endgame.
except after they wed, her college assignments were not what she stressed over every night. the more time they spent together married, the more often dongmin found ways to distance himself. he entertained her attempts at fixing their relationship, attending the couple therapy sessions just to paint her into the villain. issues he had never brought up to her before suddenly became the foundation of their problems, according to him. he suddenly hated how wrapped up in her career she could get, how often she wrote love songs about their relationship, and how he felt obligated to attend all of her performances despite preferring to be at home.
so she tried. her music became less about them, she stopped inviting him to her gigs, she made sure to be home more often.
it was when he didn't even bother to attend her graduation that eunae sat down to reevaluate her relationship with him. she remembered the way he couldn't even look her in the eye as she slid the divorce papers across the table, merely signing them without a second glance and letting her know he would have his things moved that weekend. he had a second apartment he had been disappearing to since they started their therapy sessions, a fact she had been unaware of.
she had sat at their kitchen table with the papers for hours after he left before she numbly picked herself back up and went through the motions of her typical day. she immediately packed a bag so she didn't have to witness him physically leaving for good, headed back to gohyang for the first time in five years.
it wasn't until her mother asked where her wedding ring that eunae broke down. she had left the ring next to the divorce papers, not wanting to look at the piece of jewelry that was supposed to represent a lifelong commitment. and she had to explain to her parents that they were right and she /had/ been foolish enough to marry someone she no longer recognized. they were her parents, though, and it didn't take much convincing from them for her to make the decision to move back to gohyang.
she spent the first couple months hardly stepping out of her parent's home before they convinced her to start picking up shifts at their flower shop. a couple shifts turned into a full-time gig, and she slowly found solace in songwriting again, her mother suggesting it as a way of coping with what happened. she had enough materials at home to record some pieces, and that's what she started rotating between. mornings would be spent organizing floral bouquets, and evenings would be spent hidden away in her room writing and recording what could be an entire album's worth of songs.
eventually she'd start to perform again. little things here and there just to feel something again.
four years. four years since she had stepped foot on korean soil, it all felt like a wonder to seoah. there were multiple times when she wanted to drop everything, take her father's credit card and go back home. it's not like the old man would mind, and he could very well afford it himself.
however seoah persisted, through every feeling of failure, every moment of heartbreak, every moment of loneliness. furthermore, the young woman was sure that if she stepped into belle epoque before she finished her degree and license – her mother would chase her back to new york.
she would say, "you whined and grumbled for so long that you wanted to study abroad and /now/ you're having second thoughts?? your bags are still packed, call your father and tell him you'll be back in two days." she knew the line verbatim, she had heard a variation of it every single time she video called her mother with tear streaked eyes.
heartless as it seemed to others, kang mihee knew her daughter best. these moments of weakness were fleeting before her resolve, simply minor cracks that plaster could not fill. had seoah always relented to these feelings of homesickness, she knew that the young woman would have feelings of regret for all her life.
she knew that she couldn't tell such a stubborn girl to return home whenever things got tough.
as seoah grew older and explored the world on her own, she too, understood this as well. she had also begun to understand why her mother was so adamant that she stayed. when she lived with her father for those few years, the two seldom spoke beyond the usual conversations - yet he himself had once uttered these words before she departed for home.
"not only do you look like her, you act a lot like her too. you'll do fine with whatever you do seoah-ya."
those words rang in her head again after she walked through baggage claim and towards the arrival gate. her pace picked up, ultimately putting her luggage to the side and sprinting towards the older woman with a big smile. tears threatened her waterline, falling downing as she shut her eyes close in her mother's embrace.
"he's the new blood, right? they said the old meteorologist was the one who recommended him, he must be good." onlookers whispered, nudging eachother to pass sneaky glances at the suited up young man that had walked towards the broadcast station's pantry.
"well he's handsome thats for sure, even if his presenting he'll get us ratings off his looks alone."
"ever the optimist are you? lets go, we're needed for the camera test."
yoon midam, on the other hand, was starving. he had woken up an hour before dawn, a feat that seemed impossible for the sleepaholic. had he understood the circumstances of becoming a broadcast meteorologist before declaring his major in university, midam would have simply dropped out. of course, that itself would have brought along other consequences. however midam was sure he could handle an earful from his parents more than waking up before the rooster even howled at the sunrise.
waking up this early meant he had to skip breakfast from home. getting dressed quickly in the suit he laid out the prior evening - the station said they would handle hair and makeup in-house. though the hairstylist and make up artist worked quickly on him, stating that with his looks, their work would be easy and quick.
granted midam was rather miffed about the fact that he came early specifically for the fact that the station said hair and makeup would take a while. with time left to spare, he had received directions to the break room and was currently making eye contact with the sandwich bread on the pantry.
deciding to take two slices, along with some jam smothered on both sides he placed them inside the toaster, cranking the knob to the right most settings.
"5 minutes? i thought toasters were quick." of course, midam was patient. yet patience had granted him two fully burnt pieces of bread.
he'd go on air for the first time in ten minutes, and he was still hungry.
the following are excerpts found tucked away in soojin's older diaries and journals before her current one. it dates all the way back to even her high school days which was when she started keeping diaries.
> diary entry #??? (high school days)
dear diary,
today ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶j̶e̶r̶k̶ ̶ jang taeyang got first place in the entire school yet again. he's so a͇n͇n͇o͇y͇i͇n͇g͇!! how does he keep getting the highest grades when he doesn't even try? he's not the one working his off studying non-stop!! that person is me and yet i'm second place? how the fu–
i don't understand why all those girls in class fangirl over him when i just want to squish his annoying face into a pillow. hmph. i'm going to work even harder to try and surpass him. i don't believe i can't get there.
also, i got chased by a dog the other day so i missed the quiz that i worked so hard to prepare for. maybe that's how he surpassed me this time, right?
anyways, he also got me a mug. he said it's for Christmas. ̶i̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶c̶u̶t̶e̶.̶ ̶
wait. how can i think anything associated with him is cute? pretend i never said that.
i'll talk to you another time, diary!!
rang soojin signing out.
quote of the day:
our greatest weakness lies in giving up. the most certain way to succeed is to try just one more time.
— thomas edison.
————————————————————
> diary entry #???? (pre-marriage)
dear diary,
woah it's been a while since i wrote in here.
can you believe it? mom and dad just told me that i have to marry jang taeyang if i want to be mom's successor. apparently mr and mrs jang told him the same thing so we're really going through with this.
oddly enough, as much as i dislike him, i'm not completely opposed to this marriage because at least it's him. it's someone i've known for this long but... now that i think about it, why did i hate him anyway? was it just because of our school placements? am i that competitive?
he's not bad looking either... he's pretty good-looking and i don't think he hates me? maybe it's time for our one-sided feud to end? i wonder what it'll be like to live with him. i wonder what being married to him will feel like but i suppose i won't have to wonder for much longer. i'm going wedding dress shopping with mom and mrs jang tomorrow. i'm nervous. ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶i̶ ̶l̶o̶o̶k̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶r̶e̶s̶s̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶e̶e̶s̶ ̶m̶e̶?̶ ̶
that aside, what if iseul and sangjoon were in the government positions too? i think that would make our term the best one in history.
i have to go now.
catch you later, diary.
rang soojin.
quote of the day :
when life throws you lemons, don't make lemonade. make lemon pie.
— rang soojin.
————————————————————————
> diary entry #??? (during their relationship)
> there are obvious tear marks on this one.
dear diary,
i have great news to share. taeyang and i, we're dating! or at least, we're giving it a try.
he makes me so happy. i feel like i can actually be myself without needing to care about how i look with him...
but i'm scared. what if he sees how imperfect i am and leaves me too? is this what they mean by just waiting for that person to see how.... imperfect you really are and leaving?
would he leave me eventually?
i'm too scared to put all of my heart into this but.. i... i think ̶i̶'̶m̶ ̶f̶a̶l̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶
he makes me happy, he really does and i want to make him happy too... but i'm really scared.
what should i do?
—————————————————————————————————————————-
> diary entry #???? (post-breakup)
i was right.
he left.
how could someone like him love someone like me?
it's all my fault.
i'm so sorry, taeyang-ah. i didn't know how to love so i hurt you instead.
if i could turn back time, i wish you would've never met me so that i won't have to see the hurt in your eyes like i did when you told me you're done.
i'm so sorry.
i'm so sorry for hurting you.
i'm so sorry for being the reason you got hurt.
i'm so sorry.
i didn't even get to tell you that i'm in love with you. it's all too late.
— post break-up with jang taeyang. this is soojin's point of view at their relationship currently. —
it was strange.
it was weird.
soojin didn't know how else to describe the house that she was living in now. it was so quiet now, and the two lived like they were strangers sharing the same home. she had gotten so used to /his/ warmth that the sudden cold now seemed even harsher, even colder than before, and worse still, it was all her fault.
growing up, soojin had always been the type to hide her emotions away. she couldn't deal with both the pressure and her feelings at the same time so she had willingly sacrificed the latter by always keeping everything bottled up inside. /he/ was the reason that she was slowly starting to eventually open up but perhaps it was too slow.
"i should've told him what he meant to me when i had the chance."
she didn't know when but from some point, he started to mean the world to her. she was in love with him by the time the break up had happened, and she was planning on telling him — she was going to confess her feelings to him when he confronted her for her lack of affection when they were together.
soojin's heart had broken both for him and because of him that day, and soojin herself, had retracted back into her shell that stopped people from reading her like an open book.
"i would leave me too if i was him."
those were words she would constantly tell herself, and it was quickly eating her up but she didn't tell anyone. instead, she did what she had always done.
she bottled it up inside.
perhaps it would only be a matter of time before it finally explodes on her.
it was the first time in years that byul had stepped foot inside of her own house. hell, it was the first time in years that she had even stepped foot inside of this quaint little town. she had initially thought she would never come back or that if she did, she'd come back a superstar who was looking to get a breath of fresh air in her hometown but she was wrong. she was back and a failure.
friendship had failed her.
her career had failed her.
worst of all, love had failed her.
tears were threatening to fall as she stepped through the small entrance of her mother's house but she didn't see her. the house was quiet. perhaps she wasn't home yet. maybe it was for the best that byul not see her yet. she didn't know how her mother would even react. would she be happy? perhaps angry? would she be kicked out of the house this time? she didn't know, and she found anxiety rising in her at the unknown.
"i can't do this."
byul turned around and almost ran into her mother.
"b-byul? is it really you? my little star?" her mother looked like she had aged 10 years since byul had last seen her and it broke her heart. was she not taking care of herself properly while she was gone? her mother's eyes were already wet with tears upon seeing her daughter.
〚 cat chronicle 001 - possible tw: talks of divorce and cheating 〛
“why are you being so unreasonable? think about how this will affect soomin–”
“sanghoon, i’m going to stop you right there.” ban joobin interrupts, vitriol laced in her voice.
the /audacity/ of this man. to think she swore to stay with him in sickness and in health till death do they part, only for him to abandon her and their daughter for some younger woman he met a pretentious circle-jerk of a philosophy conference in seoul.
she sighs dramatically, drawing out the silence knowing it would the man on the other line uncomfortable. “it’s laughable, really, that you are /now/ concerned about our daughter’s wellbeing after abandoning her without a goodbye.”
she chuckles at his undignified squawk. “i-i didn’t abandon her!” he protests. “i just felt like it was best to give her space to, um, adjust to this new situation… besides, you’re not making this any easier. we could’ve mediated this divorce by now but you want to continue stretching it out.”
it takes every ounce of joobin’s being not to scream at her phone. “you cannot be serious right now,” she bites. “this whole torture of a divorce process is still going on because you somehow think it makes sense to have full custody of the child i practically raised myself.”
a storm of negative emotions takes over her senses, her resolve to remain calm and collected slowly etching away.
“let’s not forget that you took all of my hard-earned money from the joint account so you could fund your shiny new lifestyle as a cheater. cry me a river!” she’s glad this is a phone call since the damn tears welling up in her eyes would give the bastard some sick satisfaction with the effect he still has on her.
he’s silent, clearly at a loss on how to respond. joobin seizes this moment to get the last word.
“the unreasonable one is you, sanghoon. get your head out of your philosophical and come back to the real world. look over the terms my lawyer sent to you. they make sense and, believe it or not, would serve us both well.”
she presses the “end call” button with grim satisfaction. so much for a civil conversation…
Today has been a typical lovely spring day for Doyoon early on. Many would think that requests for furniture would be flooding in during this season, but they’re typically cut in half. Many of his usual clients would actually purchase things in the winter so that they’d have Christmas gifts as well as warm wooden items they can use during spring and summer. It was always a quiet season for the shop, but the influx of payments for the Christmas orders always kept them afloat, almost like a summer vacation for the two woodworkers.
During this time with fair weather and everyone in a good mood, it was only natural that Doyoon would film a few of his Tiktoks ahead. He managed to finish three that morning, the final one being him using his handheld camera on a stand while he rolled down one of the hills near the beach to a bunch of lightweight wooden planks he’d hit like a bowling ball. It would be filmed while he was inside one of those human sized hamster balls made of sturdy clear and opaque plastic. All was well and he had the footage he wanted, reviewing it while sitting in the safety of the hamster ball. As usual, a few of the elderly passing the beach and seeing Doyoon turn himself into a human bowling ball were giving the carpenter strange looks, but most were used to it.
Checking the time, Doyoon saw that it was a little past noon and he patted his stomach, suddenly feeling the hunger. He had been filming and goofing off all morning, he hadn’t even eaten breakfast. To his inconvenience, the locking mechanism that allowed him to get out of the hamster hall from the inside was pushed and broken to the point where he couldn’t get himself out. It must have broke because Doyoon rolled the wrong way too harshly for his human bowling ball stunt.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my go–” His aggressive pushing, done in panic, had him roll forward once and he was only a few meters away from the water. Doyoon’s eyes widened and he flipped through his phone apps, sighing in relief when it wasn’t high tide today. “Dad, can you pick me up? I’m stuck on the beach in– never mind.” he let that message go to voicemail before calling again.
“Dad, I’m in the hamster ball on the beach. Please come home soon, I know you’re at a convention in Seoul and getting that fancy bread from that cafe with Miss Kang. I’ll just be here! Waiting.” Doyoon hung up, staring at his phone and his features scrunched up. It is an expression of panic, mixed with the acceptance of the consequences of his actions. He already knew Miss Kang would be calling his best friend Seoah, since his dad would relay the message to her mother anyways.
“Oh, Dongmin! He can help me out.” Doyoon calls Dongmin five times. He had no idea Dongmin’s phone was on Do Not Disturb mode. Nothing happens.
He just remained on that beach, sitting for almost 2 hours, contemplating on his past actions. A few times he was quickly leaning back when he felt that the water was close enough to bring him into the sea as he was in the plastic contraption of regret. At the 2 hour and 30 minute mark, his phone rang. It was his dad telling him to look to the end of the beach near the local crab museum. The two Cha mens’ faces lit up at the sight of each other.
“Son! Son! Doyoon, I’m coming!”
“Dad, I’m here!”
Doyoon waved in joy and relief, the gigantic plastic thing shifting in the sand. His father was half-sprinting, with a light saw in his hand. That was expected for his father to carry a power tool. Doyoon had heard the story of his father, aged 17, accidentally sealing himself in a treehouse he built without cutting a space for the door. Doyoon’s grandfather came and saved his son with a power tool, and now it is happening again in the next generation.
“Ah, Doyoon…” his father approached the ball, and realized how embarrassing but on-brand this incident was for his son. It reminded the older Cha a little too much of his young self.
“I know, just get me out.”
Not many words were said, but amusement and disappointment was all over Cha Sihu’s face. Doyoon had very little to panic about with his own father, but he did tense up seeing Seoah’s mother walking at half the pace her father was towards Doyoon. was moving as she held the phone, and he immediately knew that she was spilling every bit of the incident to Seoah, who arrived later. When Miss Kang reached Doyoon in the hamster ball, his father a third of a way cutting off the lock mechanism with the saw, she smacked the back of his father’s head.
“What did I do?!” Sihu spoke, clearly offended and rubbing the back of his head. Doyoon wasn’t fully heard behind the hamster ball’s thick plastic, but you could see him snort.
“You left him alone for too long and with access to this hamster ball.”
“Doyoon! Why didn’t you call me to watch!?” Seoah’s voice rung through the air as she jogged over a while after her mother’s call.
“I didn’t want you to stop your shift at the salon. And it all worked out, right? My dad came and saved the day with a power tool.” The younger Cha stepped out of the hamster ball opening hatch, high fiving his father while their mother-and-daughter friends rolled their eyes.
The wedding was something Taeyang and Soojin never fully expected from their parents. Both sets of parents at differing levels of being power-hungry, or at most, needy to impress their friends using their children like all Korean parents do. They respected their parents and just assumed that their parents would never go as far as an arranged marriage between two friends who have known each other from childhood. That’s what Taeyang himself thought, yet it was his one condition so that he’d be allowed to run for mayor with the people he wanted to run with. He would have full power on who he wanted to assign, he wanted to be mayor and make his precious hometown better than ever.
It was a quiet, seemingly normal day for the platonic newlyweds. It had been 2 months after their wedding and the private “exclusive” reception, and a month after Taeyang was elected and inaugurated as the new mayor, and he was silently scrolling through the pictures of his phone. It was his group of best friends, all assigned to major positions in office that they were all qualified and trained for. There were almost too many pictures of Soojin, and a few were scans of film pictures Taeyang took without her looking.
The new mayor of Gohyang ran to the other room, seeing his secretary idling in the kitchen.
“Let’s try dating. Just 6 months, and we’ll see if we can continue onwards as a real couple. I think I’d rot inside if–” Taeyang paused, going through his internal words carefully before telling Soojin what he had felt and had been feeling since they were 18 and entering university. “I don’t think I could handle it if you never knew that I love you.”
The night ended with a contract drafted up and the two agreeing, Taeyang feeling joy that his heart was fully visible to her. Hers was not, not really, but she said that she was willing to try.
Her best friend Taeyang wasn’t unattractive, he had a great job and solid income and a good reputation. He was smart, kind, physically fit, and in love with her. They were already legally married, living together, and forced to put on a romantic charade by their parents and for the townspeople. Taeyang kept repeating these things to himself to reassurance because he remembered Soojin’s face looking slightly hesitant when they signed the agreement.
—
/ Month 8.
A few days before the contract was officially over, Taeyang, usually level-headed and calm, had finally exploded. He never threw anything at Soojin, he never hit her, he never felt he could hurt her that way. Yet in the latter half of their dating period, and at many points, she closed herself off to him. It was like he was a stranger to her yet he was giving far more love than he was receiving emotionally. It wasn’t a violent explosion, nothing like a burning fire, or a time bomb. It was more like water going from a soft and gentle stream and ending up down a shapeless, messy waterfall.
Taeyang was crying as he was hunched over the table, his voice slightly louder than normal. He held back the volume because he was careful to not let the neighbors hear this, but doing so felt like thorns around his throat. He couldn’t look at Soojin for a few minutes before finally turning to her, eyes stinging and red.
“You should have said no six months ago when you could… Instead you said yes to my feelings because you felt like you had to.” At that point, the thought of them holding hands hurt Taeyang because he felt it wasn’t real at all. She was acting for a lot of it, but he was not. It was all real.
“At least now you don't have to worry about the latter anymore.” he finished and took a deep breath. Looking down again like a puppy in the rain, he grabbed his coat and keys. He was still forever polite enough to his wife to let her know where he was going. “I’m heading to the port. I need to think.”
—
/ Month 15.
It’s been over a year since Taeyang entered office as the mayor. He had less than two years left of his very first term, he knew his father would have him run again, which was typical as mayors had a limit of three four-year terms in office. He would be working with his friends in office regularly and longer if he won again, and he would be living with Soojin indefinitely.
A stressful yet quiet day in the office, a long walk home since it was the middle of spring and warm enough for their feet not to freeze per step. Everything in their lives are working perfectly, the gears representing different parts of their life oiled well. Work was fine, friendships were fine, house and financial stability, checked off. The gear for their romance was rusting and neither of them wanted to oil it.
Taeyang was still deeply in love with her, but now he knew that he shouldn’t say it. He would only say it when they were performing outside. At home, their dinner routine was either one of them cooking ramyun and serving it with boiled eggs and kimchi. They would share a big pot of the ramyun between two bowls, without a word or look exchanged. The married couple cleans up their own plates and go to sleep in their separate rooms.
sangjoon stared intensely at the phone screen in front of him, his signature scowl as deep as ever. for the past hour, he had been having an internal battle about whether or not what he was about to do would haunt him for the rest of his life. damn the youtube algorithm for pushing a clip of /that/ movie with anna kendricks tapping a yellow cup! it sent him into a spiral of nostalgia. he could still recall the butterflies he felt in the pit of his stomach when he stepped on stage to audition and the feeling of relief as they accepted him with open arms. while he had achieved much during his time at university, he found an unlikely home with a group passionate about harmonization and performance.
oh, how he yearned for that sense of repertoire again! moving back to gohyang-myeon had been a strategic choice—one approved by his father and many others—but it came at a cost. no one seemed to carry the same passion as sangjoon. for years, he dealt with it; burying himself in the drivel of government paperwork but watching that movie clip awoke something in him. he found himself opening the ‘gohyang group’ app, fingers furiously typing away before he could stop himself. thank god
he gathered his senses before he hit ‘sent’.
“this is stupid. who the hell would join this?” he grumbled as he read over the drafted message for the 50th time. the more he stared at it, the more he hated it. knowing he could not mull this over for the rest of the night—dinner needed to be made, the dog needed to be fed—sangjoon made the executive decision to close the app. the message was forever lost in the sea of wishful thinking and regret.
〚 the drafted message 〛
hello this is cho sangjoon. would anyone be interested in forming a local a cappella group with me? past vocal training is not required (but highly encouraged). let me know if you’re interested. sooner than later since the holiday season is coming up. thanks. :smile:
Hello, incoming and current Gohyang citizens! In regards to the revamp, the admin team has a couple of notices to share. These are for the new and returning muns commenting for characters.
1. Non-Korean faceclaims will now be accepted with this new update but do take note that there are limited spots open. The limit is currently at 10. You may check the masterlist for an updated number of non-Korean characters.
2. Deactivated characters (aside from those previously owned by current roleplayers) have all been deleted along with the revamp.
3. The admin team is still looking for a new coadmin. Requirements can be found in a recent blog post if interested.
Thank you for reading this and we hope to see you soon!
