He was a subtle pandemonium in the whirring reel of the mundane. A ripple in the backdrop of untouched, unspoiled perfection that reflected his upbringing. A soul tethered so intimately to no one place, a home that was never his own to begin with. Kim Taehyung, a lost boy bound to his own precious youth. Starch whites and pretty silvers that stained his glossy childhood like the polished coat that hid the blood caked into nailbeds. A boy of brillant grins that ricocheted aureate splendor of their own, laughter like decadent cacao and a touch like that of April rain.

But in the finite seams of Cheshire cat grins and moon cresent eyes, there could only exist a lost boy. A youth so restless, so toiled in the desire of what it meant to live. His parents were content. Their grey tweed suits and iron-pressed faces were an accessory to breathing if not for the caffeine curdling their blood. But to him, that high was never there. In fact, the thought of growing up, of becoming another faceless victim amongst the dark parade of masquerade figures was a terror in itself. So he did what a soul of his caliber could only ever conjure.

He ran.

He discovered his escape at the frayed tips of pipes. He found his solace in the speckles of chili dust in the halo of his margarita rim. Taehyung lived to breathe, lived to spend himself in the ambiance of a dream so fleeting. And for a while, it was rinse and repeat. But someone saw better in that, gleaned a glance that spanned far past a tired, pretty boy who squandered his youth as easily as his money. A man caught in the rain awaiting the bus couldn't help but hear the boy slur drunken songs in that velveteen timber of his, and a card was pressed in his soaking palm... But even before Taehyung could sober up, they found him again, like Lucifer extending an offer he'd be foolish to refuse. And like the wayward boy was no less than the perfect candidate for the virulent temptation that was to be idol life.

But it was a fascination to Taehyung... Lips painted rouge and cheeks pinned to the bones like pillars of deceptive vigor... But they were loved for it, worshipped. To those weary ones looking for an escape as badly as Taehyung once had, he was their salvation. The truest embodiment of their lustful desires... And all he had to do was hold his wrists up to receive the puppeteer's silvery strings. All he had to do was perceive himself as anything but the misconstrued figurine he truly was, galavanting in the spoils of name brands and airport wear. All he had to do was whiten that boxed smile and carve his jawline into ironwork slate. But never did he stop to think of the consequences, despite how heady his former desires were... Regardless of the lingering urges. He was a lost boy, still, now cavorting about in the role of Peter Pan. The blind leading the blind, a lost boy leading the others down a path of misguided adoration and clandestine fantasy...

candid snaps

to you - my love

You, who could never be the Wendy that clasps this calloused hand... You who could I'll only ever admire from afar in the soils. My Tiger Lily whose desire I can only covet more than Hook coveted the blood of that taunting crocodile. You see, you're perfection in it's utmost form and I regale you like a diamond all your own. A star that nestles the ebony veil of skyfall beside me, whose beams could never reach mine. For at a glance, we forever seem far closer than that which we could ever become. And it's for your own good, baby doll, because there's nothing here but fool's gold and folly. I'll whisk you to the moon, search for constellations in your eyes and pave tales of our own into the wisps of your locks, but honey... Even pixie dust has its limits. Because at the death of this vibrant light, at the dim of this bold and vivacious wonder, please know that not even the buoyant laughter of small children by the hundreds could revive this fleeting spark.