No Dawn for the Damned Shadows of Elegance

He goes upstairs and reaches his room. The dim light casts soft shadows across the space. He freshens up and changes into something comfortable, throwing a black coat over it. A habit, just like the waist chains he never stopped wearing. It started in his teenage years when a friend gave him one, and since then, it became part of him. There’s no real difference between his past and present self—only unspoken words that still linger. After that, he comes downstairs and settles on the couch, finding comfort in his own company. He’s used to solitude, even in a room full of people. Unless someone disturbs him, he remains undisturbed. The Kim family isn’t originally from this place. They don’t belong to these stone walls, yet their bond with them runs deep. An incident changed everything. A misunderstanding led to a clash, one death, and one loss. The weight of it forced them to leave Busan, the place where it all happened. They moved to Seoul, rooting themselves deeper in business and life. They all started over. Yet two people still hold onto the truth—one denied it and met death, the other accepted it and disappeared. And then, there were those who longed for the missing. His mother’s voice breaks his thoughts. She calls him, and he responds by making his way to the kitchen. She asks if he wants a warm drink or juice. He simply declines. Then, unnoticed by everyone, he settles on the kitchen counter—watching, yet unseen.

His mother sat beside him, gently running her fingers through his soft, chocolate-brown hair. His head rested on the kitchen table, face buried in his arms. She placed a soft kiss on his hair, then on his temple, her hand moving in slow, comforting strokes over his back. A mother’s love is irreplaceable. When her child is in pain, anxious, or disturbed, she feels it more than anyone else. She carries them for nine months, enduring pain equal to having her bones broken twelve times, yet she bears it with love. She nurtures, heals, and watches them grow. Losing her is losing the one person who would hold all your grief without asking for anything in return. The world is cruel, but a mother softens its edges. Respect her. Treasure her. Because once she’s gone, there’s no going back. In the living room, someone else made his presence known—his older cousin. They were never close. At six, he was sent to boarding school, learning to live with distance, unfamiliar with warmth. The cousin entered, greeted his parents and his own, then settled onto the couch, chatting with the elders. He was well-respected, a responsible man managing his father’s company. Respected and admired—someone who carried both authority and kindness.

Vilgor stood up, moving his hands with practiced ease to grab the coffee machine. Every movement was precise, elegant. He prepared the coffee smoothly, without a wasted second, and poured it into a cup. Yet, he didn’t take a sip. Instead, he made another cup, his hands steady as he switched off the stove and started preparing ramen noodles and pancakes. Every step was done with calm professionalism—efficient, clean, almost mechanical. Years in boarding school had shaped him this way. Cooking wasn’t something special for him; it was simply another task to be done right. When everything was ready, he walked over to the kitchen counter, where his mother was already seated. She smiled at him, surprised but pleased. It was a rare sight—her son cooking. But what else could be expected from someone who spent his childhood, teenage years, and early adulthood in an environment where self-sufficiency wasn’t a choice but a necessity? He served her pancakes drizzled with honey and a glass of milkshake, then sat across from her, holding a steaming bowl of ramen noodles. His untouched coffee sat in front of him. Just then, his cousin entered the kitchen. For a moment, he froze, eyes widening. He hadn’t seen Vilgor in years. And yet, there he was, sitting casually at the table—a presence both familiar and distant.

Kim Namjoom ( de Lucas)

It's been quite a long time since , we last met. * said while gawking at him in indifferent tone*

Jeon Jungkook( Vilgor)

* Just glances at him *

Jeon Young Ae

I hope you've enjoyed your time , quite a lot. You should rest now and please don't bother yourselves with other works . We all are present , dear * said gently while standing up*

Vilgor just glanced at him and continued eating his ramen. His cousin was in awe for a bare second due to his attitude because, according to him, they were close family members, and he should have greeted him or even hugged him. His mother frowned too. There is something that everyone in their lives has noticed, especially those who live in joint families. Even if a family is very harmonious and religious, cousins always have a silent competition—like if you are in school, then taking good marks; if in sports, then winning more points, trophies, or certificates; any academic or extracurricular activity, they are always ready to claim superiority. The family may be harmonious, but parents also encourage or compare their children with their cousins and pester them to attain higher than what the others have achieved. This results in mental pressure, anxiety, and distance, but still, we always compromise and answer with love and devotion—a bond that family blood always holds.

After finishing his meal in utter silence, his mother left outside because someone had called her. Vilgor went straight to his room and grabbed his car keys. His motive was to take a long drive. Even though he had come back after a long time, he still didn’t want to let go of the breath of freedom. The evening was at its peak, and he was over-speeding. Thankfully, the route was mostly unidentified, and other wealthy figures also spent their time there in the evening rain, enjoying themselves on those roads. The night continued, and he finally reached his penthouse. After changing and freshening up, he went to his office to wind up his previous work while continuing with other projects.

~~On the other side of the world, someone was lost in agony, yet he found a strange sense of comfort in it. The past moments played before his eyes like a film—vivid, unrelenting. Memories are the most beautiful yet the darkest things one can hold. And for him, they always led back to the same person. His love ~~