SCENE IV.
THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT
oh my butterfly, you still have
a lot coming your way before
you cause the ever-chaotic tornado.

IN MORNINGS where the mixture of nasty downpour would be seeping itself out of the sky's thick clouds, the household would be cuddled with icy air, and Jungwon would have only been sticking his eyes on the television with his controller found in between his hands. That day, however, he wasn't. He was rather found in a trance as he faced her- Yoo Yerim- in her blabbering sessions where terminologies of various and unlinked words would blast out of her lips.

︎ ︎ ︎He swore he perceived snippets about galaxies, icebergs, scientific theories flowing out of her mouth like magma in a volcano's crater yet afterwards he would just nod like all these bits had already been glued all together when in fact, it only floated like molecular particles inside his brain. Not compact, just free and far from each other. At that point, there was no way those pieces would be pasted as one image. Jungwon couldn't imagine such possibilities. Although there were some aspects in her discussion that would have him nodding unironically, he felt like he was still a thousand light-years away from where was headed into- within the space of his own rapture.

︎ ︎ ︎"Seriously? How in the fucking world can making music save me?" He would stop her at some points, when her words would become suffocating for his auditory network. "I can't even with your absurdity anymore."

︎ ︎ ︎"It's called the butterfly effect, silly." Tilting forwards, Yerim giggled. "Ever heard of that?"

︎ ︎ ︎The butterfly effect. It was an old school topic he would use to write over, get called attention for and would still take the correct answer. Because he was merely an average student- not too smart, not too dumb- whose love for music was immense. Not exactly new to Jungwon's critical ears but it was an interesting topic to discuss with an individual despite his wrath over this subject. One thing he knew for sure, though.

︎ ︎ ︎"The theory that links even the most discrete variables to one another?" Airily, the man replied. "We call it the chaos theory."

︎ ︎ ︎Erase that. Two. There were two things he knew about it.

︎︎ ︎ ︎His mind was fragmented. He felt everything was chaotic and had fallen into wildly erroneous places. Though Jungwon would attempt to gather all scattered pieces of his mind, failure came to be inevitable, and he still could not catch up. He felt like one move in the past that birthed the lineage to this skepticism has raised chaos, as the chaos theory itself applies.

︎ ︎ ︎Not that he did not want to. He wanted to understand her more than any being on the planet. Her words ran in the speed of light and lingered in the open as gas molecules would do. Because he had been demented by the recent events created by the impossible and explainable by not one form of concurrent matter, the pace of his thinking had died down. Was she too fast? Was he too slow? Or was his mind someplace else he could not comprehend?

︎ ︎"The name 'chaos theory' is misleading, though. It doesn't necessarily cause chaos. Sure, one wrong move may change everything, whether for the better or worse, chaos or vast serenity- literally anything can be born to your skepticism right now." As she always does, Yerim chided and tittered again, observing how he was silently bargaining with all these concepts from a wide 10 inches away from him. She finally earned the movement to lay her back on the sofa, inclining backwards and crossing her legs.

︎ ︎ ︎"But yeah. The butterfly is basically you making a song and the tornado being you saved. If that isn't the easiest summary ever." Encapsulated the woman. Her fixation swayed all the way from him to this one item on the table. Picking it up, she notified, "But, oh my butterfly, you still have a lot coming your way before you cause the ever-chaotic tornado. That's why I'm here, to help you!", then handed it to him through opening her fingers apart, revealing his poorly organized earphones.

︎ ︎ ︎Although his mind was as tainted and disheveled as the planet he grew in, there was at least one thing that came into his mind that moment: like how she did the first time, Yerim was clearly handing those earphones to him. She wore the smile of reliability, one of a new-born infant, which somehow had his heart thirst for a normal beat rate. The breath of air stung his cheeks a tint of pink, stomach bracing for an attack of wild yet completely harmless beautiful insects that he feared might swallow his insides.

︎ ︎ ︎"I'll help you, Yang. I'll do anything to save you." And because strangling was his bedazzled gaze on her and he had only been looping the friction of their contact, Yerim cut this short, jolting his hand and placing the object on top of it. He observed how the projection of Yerim's voice sounded melancholy, but was concealed by the giggle she had to add halfway before she finished. Why would she even sound too tragic at such an enthusiastic remark? "Just trust me, this will all make sense in the end."

︎ ︎ ︎She's right, Jungwon figured. He once failed trusting the strength of a woman with her imminent demise that he failed to see what he would have granted to save her. Perhaps, a little trust and cooperation won't hurt.

︎ ︎ ︎Right?

︎ ︎ ︎"I trust you, Yoo Yerim." For the first time in a while, he found trusting quite difficult for a woman whose only motive was for the better. He needed nothing but her eyes that glowed the beauty of Andromeda, and skin so delicate to give him the warmth he needed. Jungwon let a smile take over his cherry lips. Eventually, fear emerged from the depths of his own earth and came to swallow away his momentary bliss. "But aren't you scared that your existence here can create chaos?"

︎ ︎ ︎As the butterfly effect was known to have retained the concepts of creating everlasting aftermaths when even the tiniest objects are altered in one complex system, a lightning of fright crashes into their souls, shattering them apart into their own- splintered mirages.

︎ ︎ ︎"I never even thought of that." She fell into thinking, tilting towards him again as she did so. "No way. This isn't time traveling. I am not time traveling. We can't put that concept into this situation."

︎ ︎ ︎"Well, you know exactly everything that will ever happen on this planet. You can come off as a time traveler." Jungwon shrugged. "Plus, I guess the theory does not only apply to time travel. You can simply be talking to me now and cause one of our deaths."

︎︎ ︎ ︎Like again, Jungwon still could not see the clarity of the concepts she had nonchalantly been trying to elucidate all those moments, especially with a mind already heavily tainted by the adversity of misunderstanding. He incessantly tried processing all the recent discussions of the other party, subjecting to an ultimate time loop of error.

︎ ︎ ︎"I no longer do, Yang." After many, many seconds of letting it all sink in, she realised she no longer did take control of the world. "The sequential effects of my existence had already begun- two days ago, ever since I appeared in that school. Which means this story's changing a lot as we speak. It is no longer as predictable as we know it is."

︎ ︎ ︎"And you still were able to predict the parcel arrival perfectly."

︎ ︎ ︎"There are still some points in this storyline that seemed to have never been affected by the chain of my existence. Your parcel's arrival, for example." Yerim stuck her chin between her fingers, going through the deeper segments of the large picture, finding the signal to sigh in relief and content to end the dread. "The butterfly effect works like the game of Jenga- you remove one of its pieces, it may or may not fall."

︎ ︎ ︎"If so-"

︎ ︎ ︎"If so, the chances of a tragic finale might have already deteriorated!" It was easy to say Yerim had officially attained the peak revelation of everything she learned that day. Due to the arising spur of the momentum, the beaming sunshine incidentally shut the man's mouth and basked in the magnificence of Jungwon's bronzed irises. However, as they never actually knew whether the Jenga indeed faltered apart or otherwise, relief slipped away from their hearts. "Or not."

︎ ︎ ︎Two days, forty hours, two thousand four hundred minutes, and a hundred and forty-four thousand seconds- dismay never missed. While the two were impaled in the tangled strings of silence and the constant sound of rain dripping on rooftops, they could not be more frightened. Frightened and doused, that the rain of monstrosity might no longer take a chance to cease itself. That the world will forever be just an expanse of nothingness.

︎ ︎ ︎"What now?" Pondered the absorbed man under his breath.

︎ ︎ ︎"We stick to the original plan." Yerim articulated, picking up the glass of water that had been sitting on the wooden material. After gulping all the liquids in, she eyed Jungwon, drenched lips found extended. Hope. There was no choice but to hope that they were on the right path. "Make music."

︎ ︎ ︎"But I don't know how to!" Not that he cannot, he didn't want to. Yerim knew that. She knew everything about Yang Jungwon.

︎ ︎ ︎︎ ︎ ︎"You're a bad liar." Yerim cackled. She must've known about the ten-year old mini-studio Jungwon hid somewhere in the house, and how filthy the materials must've been after about a year of abandonment and demotivation for crafting art in the through tunes. "You do the music and I'll help with the lyrics, yeah?"

︎ ︎ ︎Of course, she was right, once again. She had always been. He had been composing songs since forever, before tragedy crashed into the shores of his life like unforgiving tides. Nothing incorrect ever came out from that woman that day, and that was what had him drifting to slumber in the most amiable way he's ever had after so long. At least he knew his trust won't be going to places, but within the heart of a righteous youth whom he knew indeed favored his character for whatever reasons she had.

︎ ︎ ︎"B-but-"

︎ ︎ ︎"Give me buts and I'll kick your butt."

︎ ︎ ︎As Yerim stood- a foot forth and the other behind- the one in front slammed against the table, causing a chain reaction that led the glass of water to spill and plummet on the ground, glass splattering as it failed to defy gravity. Yang Jungwon could only glare, caught off guard and could think of nothing but what he could've said before the glass even dared to break.

︎ ︎ ︎"Fine!" Rather than picking up those broken pieces, Jungwon answered. It was yet another fine failure for the man, and a point earned by the woman as he scrunched his nose at the very thought of his constant downfall. Since that day- 24th of October year 2022, he promised himself not to lose to Yoo Yerim again. "Fine, fine. I better not regret this, woman."

︎ ︎ ︎Because as the butterfly effect suggests,

︎ ︎ ︎"You won't. We're in this together. Like two peas in a pod!"

︎ ︎ ︎one insignificant decision may hasten the grandest mishap in life.

Nabi's log! - Jul 11, 2022 8:20PM
Can you tell I've been facing a
major writing slump lately. Also this
book is so messy, it may look
so smooth rn but no everything
behind this is so chaotic.
The butterfly effect, everyone :)