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choi_minju Chapter 1: At the First Bright Light
All Peter could think about was Anthony. In his dreams, his mind kept replaying images of the same young man he grew up with since they were elementary school students. Moments of happiness, sadness, and anger – practically everything that he felt about the man resurfaced in his dreams like an old broken record.
As soon as he heard that his best friend had died, memories of his recent nightmare seem to have resurfaced in his mind. Anthony’s brown irises had turned grey and his skin had blemished into a pale color. Peter could see himself in the dream, trying to reach for him as he saw Anthony’s body suddenly falling into a dark pit on the ground, with the fire of flames being the only source of light in it. He screamed for him and tried grabbing his hand, but it was a slip grip. It was like his vision was playing in slow motion as he watched with terror of Anthony calling out for him despite the deathly corpse look, falling into the fiery flames of hell.
Peter gasped when he heard a sudden rasp knock at the door. He rushed towards the door and opened it, believing for a second that maybe, just maybe, Anthony was standing behind the door, forgetting his keys after getting drunk with his business colleagues at the local bar.
Imagine his disappointment and loom of depression when he instead found two cops standing behind the door, holding up their badges.
The strange thing to Peter was that these cops were dressed in very stylish attire, to which in Peter’s taste appeared to be too extravagant for owning police department badges. They were both wearing shady sunglasses like regular cops do, sure, but they wore designer shoes, designer ripped jeans, comfy looking coats, and designer shirts that only young adults or teenagers would buy from Los Angeles. The taller cop with short jet black hair looked intimidating, but he could feel a glare coming from the shorter cop with the black fedora hat worn over his light blonde hair that felt just as intimidating. "Peter Mulligan?" One of the cops, the taller one of the two, called to him with a slight accent. Peter nodded slowly. "I'm Detective Kim and this here's my partner, Detective Zou. Do you know anyone by the name of Anthony Foyle?" The tall cop briefly introduced and asked.
Oh, so they're detectives, not regular officers, Peter thought to himself and nodded slowly. "Antho's my best friend..... I just saw the news so you don't need to sugar coat anything for me. Just tell me how he died." He bluntly spoke.
The other detective with the fedora hat, whose last name was Zou, scoffed and muttered rudely to himself, but Peter clearly heard the words "Oh, he is so going in the suspect list" hang in the air. His eyes widened at the accusation, feeling too numb over Anthony's death to even get angry. Fortunately, Detective Kim had the decency to get angry for him as he whacked his partner on the side of his head. "We have to ask him questions first before you make an accusation, jackass!" he hissed at him.
That's when he noticed the height between the two police detectives. It reminded him of how Anthony had a growth spurt as soon as he hit 13 years of age. At the time, Peter was 16 years old and pissed when he found out about his best friend's growth spurt. He blamed sports and the large amount of food that he eats regularly each day. Since then, he had studied the metric system involving height. He silently calculated the detectives' heights while they were in a heated whispering discussion in front of Anthony's apartment door, in a language Peter didn't understand but recognize a bit.
"You're both taller than Antho." Peter blurted out suddenly.
The detectives stopped bantering lightly and turned to him with raised eyebrows.
"Antho has always been taller than me by 3 centimeters," Peter continued, " - but I've never met anyone taller than Antho by more than 3 centimeters.....well, anyone Asian by that matter."
Detective Zou's lips curled into a frown. "How could you tell we're Asian when we have very tinted sunglasses?" he asked, or more likely demanded in Peter's perspective.
The short blonde man shrugged meekly. "Your accents when you speak English..... and one of the tenants in this apartment is a Korean girl who lives with her Korean boyfriend. They bicker downstairs every morning and what I just heard was something like that."
Detective Kim looked amused but Detective Zou still kept a frown on his face. "I'm Chinese, you white ass weirdo. Now where were you at midnight when Anthony Foyle was murdered?" He rudely interrogated with a cold demeanor. Peter winced, not because of the cold exterior that Detective Zou obtains, but because he was reminded of the fact that Anthony really was dead.
"Stop being such a racist, Brian. Now look what you did, he's shaking!" Detective Kim scolded his partner before reaching out to rub Peter's arm in light comfort. For the record, Peter never realized he was trying to keep it together until the tall detective pointed out how he was shaking. Right there and then he lost it and started bawling like a baby in the arms of someone he doesn't even know on a personal level.
"Okay, so after you cooked dinner and ate, you have no recollection of what happened afterwards?" Detective Kim calmly asked Peter as they were at the local police department in Santa Barbara. The tall Korean detective sat at his desk while the shorter dark blonde Caucasian sat at a chair beside his desk, so that they were facing each other but not sitting directly to one another.
Peter sadly nodded his head in reply and looked utterly confused. "All I can remember was waiting for Antho to come back.... then I had that nightmare that I just told you about...."
Detective Kim nodded and took down notes on paper. "So it was like women's intuition or something that alerted you to turning on the television?" He asked carefully, hoping not to offend the victim's best friend. He felt relieved when Peter once again nodded sadly.
He stopped taking notes and noticed how Peter's distraught appearance was familiar to dozens of cases that he had to dealt with from victims and their relatives or friends. When the gears slowly shifted in his head, he sat up straight quickly, causing the blonde man to snap out of his daze to look at him. "What?"
"Oh my God, you were in love with the victim." It was more of a sympathetic statement rather than a disgusted disbelief, from Peter's hearing perspective.
He sighed and nodded once again in reply. "I was going to tell him last night, but..... he's never going to come home again...." He sniffled and tried not to bawl in front of everyone working inside the police department. Detective Kim noticed his struggle and reached over to pat him gently on the shoulder. "Hey, now, you don't need to hold it all in. I remember the time when I was in the exact state you're in just now," he lightly reassured the other.
Peter blinked slowly and only one tear escaped from his left eyelid. "Y-You..... lost someone you loved?" He stuttered and cursed himself in his head for doing so in front of a police detective.
Detective Kim smiled sadly and picked up a photo frame, showing it to him. Peter took it gently in his hands and stared at a photo of the detective with his arms wrapped around a slightly tanned man, who was approximately 173 centimeters tall in Peter's quick mental analysis. The man had a small frame despite the muscles shown off through his sleeveless shirt and had dark brown hair with blonde highlights. It was hard for Peter to distinguish ethnicity characteristics through the short man's hazelnut eyes, which were wide as a puppy's, the structure of his jawline, and the fine tip shape of his nose. The man in the photo was exquisitely beautiful for a male.
"......he's pretty short," was the first thing that came out of his mouth.
The detective gaped at him for a moment before bursting out in laughter, causing the other detectives and officers around the workforce area to flinch and stare in shock at him. "Oh my God, if he ever heard you say that, he'd definitely kick your ass!" he exclaimed and continued to chuckle.
"What was your relationship with him?"
".......ah, he was my fiance," Detective Kim recalled as he smiled somberly at the photo, gingerly taking it back and placing it neatly on his desk. "We were friends first before lovers. Brian, I mean Detective Zou, was his best friend since they were in diapers. I met both of them in a college Beijing trip for 6 months, way before I started joining the law enforcement academy here in California. They were born and raised in mainland China until they both hit 18, then went to college in New York." He snorted at a sudden memory and smiled at Peter. "Christopher Jing was his name. Chris and I met by accident when I accidentally poured coffee over him at a cafe."
Peter chuckled at the mere thought and then sobered quickly as he asked the next question on his mind. "How....how did he die, may I ask?"
Detective Kim was quiet for a moment before faintly answering him. ".......he was raped and murdered in Los Angeles. He and I moved in after I became a detective and with his career in music composing became a rising success. Chris..... one night he had to stay after hours at the studio he rented out before coming home late. I waited all night, like you did with Anthony, but at least I remembered falling asleep because I was too tired at work. Next thing I know, Brian shakes me awake, sobbing over what he heard at the police department. I couldn't believe it for myself until I got here and - " He was interrupted by Peter, who was wiping his tears slowly with a tissue from his pocket. He didn't realize he started to tear at the mention of his fiance's death.
"Hey, Will, I - " Detective Zou started but trailed off and hid slightly, seeing the two act too close to each other. "Well. This is new." He mumbled to himself.
All Peter could think about was Anthony. In his dreams, his mind kept replaying images of the same young man he grew up with since they were elementary school students. Moments of happiness, sadness, and anger – practically everything that he felt about the man resurfaced in his dreams like an old broken record.
As soon as he heard that his best friend had died, memories of his recent nightmare seem to have resurfaced in his mind. Anthony’s brown irises had turned grey and his skin had blemished into a pale color. Peter could see himself in the dream, trying to reach for him as he saw Anthony’s body suddenly falling into a dark pit on the ground, with the fire of flames being the only source of light in it. He screamed for him and tried grabbing his hand, but it was a slip grip. It was like his vision was playing in slow motion as he watched with terror of Anthony calling out for him despite the deathly corpse look, falling into the fiery flames of hell.
Peter gasped when he heard a sudden rasp knock at the door. He rushed towards the door and opened it, believing for a second that maybe, just maybe, Anthony was standing behind the door, forgetting his keys after getting drunk with his business colleagues at the local bar.
Imagine his disappointment and loom of depression when he instead found two cops standing behind the door, holding up their badges.
The strange thing to Peter was that these cops were dressed in very stylish attire, to which in Peter’s taste appeared to be too extravagant for owning police department badges. They were both wearing shady sunglasses like regular cops do, sure, but they wore designer shoes, designer ripped jeans, comfy looking coats, and designer shirts that only young adults or teenagers would buy from Los Angeles. The taller cop with short jet black hair looked intimidating, but he could feel a glare coming from the shorter cop with the black fedora hat worn over his light blonde hair that felt just as intimidating. "Peter Mulligan?" One of the cops, the taller one of the two, called to him with a slight accent. Peter nodded slowly. "I'm Detective Kim and this here's my partner, Detective Zou. Do you know anyone by the name of Anthony Foyle?" The tall cop briefly introduced and asked.
Oh, so they're detectives, not regular officers, Peter thought to himself and nodded slowly. "Antho's my best friend..... I just saw the news so you don't need to sugar coat anything for me. Just tell me how he died." He bluntly spoke.
The other detective with the fedora hat, whose last name was Zou, scoffed and muttered rudely to himself, but Peter clearly heard the words "Oh, he is so going in the suspect list" hang in the air. His eyes widened at the accusation, feeling too numb over Anthony's death to even get angry. Fortunately, Detective Kim had the decency to get angry for him as he whacked his partner on the side of his head. "We have to ask him questions first before you make an accusation, jackass!" he hissed at him.
That's when he noticed the height between the two police detectives. It reminded him of how Anthony had a growth spurt as soon as he hit 13 years of age. At the time, Peter was 16 years old and pissed when he found out about his best friend's growth spurt. He blamed sports and the large amount of food that he eats regularly each day. Since then, he had studied the metric system involving height. He silently calculated the detectives' heights while they were in a heated whispering discussion in front of Anthony's apartment door, in a language Peter didn't understand but recognize a bit.
"You're both taller than Antho." Peter blurted out suddenly.
The detectives stopped bantering lightly and turned to him with raised eyebrows.
"Antho has always been taller than me by 3 centimeters," Peter continued, " - but I've never met anyone taller than Antho by more than 3 centimeters.....well, anyone Asian by that matter."
Detective Zou's lips curled into a frown. "How could you tell we're Asian when we have very tinted sunglasses?" he asked, or more likely demanded in Peter's perspective.
The short blonde man shrugged meekly. "Your accents when you speak English..... and one of the tenants in this apartment is a Korean girl who lives with her Korean boyfriend. They bicker downstairs every morning and what I just heard was something like that."
Detective Kim looked amused but Detective Zou still kept a frown on his face. "I'm Chinese, you white ass weirdo. Now where were you at midnight when Anthony Foyle was murdered?" He rudely interrogated with a cold demeanor. Peter winced, not because of the cold exterior that Detective Zou obtains, but because he was reminded of the fact that Anthony really was dead.
"Stop being such a racist, Brian. Now look what you did, he's shaking!" Detective Kim scolded his partner before reaching out to rub Peter's arm in light comfort. For the record, Peter never realized he was trying to keep it together until the tall detective pointed out how he was shaking. Right there and then he lost it and started bawling like a baby in the arms of someone he doesn't even know on a personal level.
"Okay, so after you cooked dinner and ate, you have no recollection of what happened afterwards?" Detective Kim calmly asked Peter as they were at the local police department in Santa Barbara. The tall Korean detective sat at his desk while the shorter dark blonde Caucasian sat at a chair beside his desk, so that they were facing each other but not sitting directly to one another.
Peter sadly nodded his head in reply and looked utterly confused. "All I can remember was waiting for Antho to come back.... then I had that nightmare that I just told you about...."
Detective Kim nodded and took down notes on paper. "So it was like women's intuition or something that alerted you to turning on the television?" He asked carefully, hoping not to offend the victim's best friend. He felt relieved when Peter once again nodded sadly.
He stopped taking notes and noticed how Peter's distraught appearance was familiar to dozens of cases that he had to dealt with from victims and their relatives or friends. When the gears slowly shifted in his head, he sat up straight quickly, causing the blonde man to snap out of his daze to look at him. "What?"
"Oh my God, you were in love with the victim." It was more of a sympathetic statement rather than a disgusted disbelief, from Peter's hearing perspective.
He sighed and nodded once again in reply. "I was going to tell him last night, but..... he's never going to come home again...." He sniffled and tried not to bawl in front of everyone working inside the police department. Detective Kim noticed his struggle and reached over to pat him gently on the shoulder. "Hey, now, you don't need to hold it all in. I remember the time when I was in the exact state you're in just now," he lightly reassured the other.
Peter blinked slowly and only one tear escaped from his left eyelid. "Y-You..... lost someone you loved?" He stuttered and cursed himself in his head for doing so in front of a police detective.
Detective Kim smiled sadly and picked up a photo frame, showing it to him. Peter took it gently in his hands and stared at a photo of the detective with his arms wrapped around a slightly tanned man, who was approximately 173 centimeters tall in Peter's quick mental analysis. The man had a small frame despite the muscles shown off through his sleeveless shirt and had dark brown hair with blonde highlights. It was hard for Peter to distinguish ethnicity characteristics through the short man's hazelnut eyes, which were wide as a puppy's, the structure of his jawline, and the fine tip shape of his nose. The man in the photo was exquisitely beautiful for a male.
"......he's pretty short," was the first thing that came out of his mouth.
The detective gaped at him for a moment before bursting out in laughter, causing the other detectives and officers around the workforce area to flinch and stare in shock at him. "Oh my God, if he ever heard you say that, he'd definitely kick your ass!" he exclaimed and continued to chuckle.
"What was your relationship with him?"
".......ah, he was my fiance," Detective Kim recalled as he smiled somberly at the photo, gingerly taking it back and placing it neatly on his desk. "We were friends first before lovers. Brian, I mean Detective Zou, was his best friend since they were in diapers. I met both of them in a college Beijing trip for 6 months, way before I started joining the law enforcement academy here in California. They were born and raised in mainland China until they both hit 18, then went to college in New York." He snorted at a sudden memory and smiled at Peter. "Christopher Jing was his name. Chris and I met by accident when I accidentally poured coffee over him at a cafe."
Peter chuckled at the mere thought and then sobered quickly as he asked the next question on his mind. "How....how did he die, may I ask?"
Detective Kim was quiet for a moment before faintly answering him. ".......he was raped and murdered in Los Angeles. He and I moved in after I became a detective and with his career in music composing became a rising success. Chris..... one night he had to stay after hours at the studio he rented out before coming home late. I waited all night, like you did with Anthony, but at least I remembered falling asleep because I was too tired at work. Next thing I know, Brian shakes me awake, sobbing over what he heard at the police department. I couldn't believe it for myself until I got here and - " He was interrupted by Peter, who was wiping his tears slowly with a tissue from his pocket. He didn't realize he started to tear at the mention of his fiance's death.
"Hey, Will, I - " Detective Zou started but trailed off and hid slightly, seeing the two act too close to each other. "Well. This is new." He mumbled to himself.
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