the thunder sounds deafening. the sky is dark while the afternoon hasn’t passed yet. what is going on, i wonder as i make myself a coffee. sipping of the bitter drink, i glimpse through the window. today i prepared a dinner for my friends, but with this weather it would be better if i canceled it. i don’t want them to get hurt along the way.

finishing my coffee, i send them a message. a shame of all the food, i sigh as i stare at the table. i decide to not spoil the evening, and think about watching a movie. as i sit down on the wingchair, the doorbell echoes through the house. they came anyways? i smile somehow delighted. i place the pillows right in the seat, and then walk to the door. the thunder sounds even louder now, i notice.

when i open the door, i don’t see who i was expecting. no chanyeol or baekhyun. instead, a dark figure looks up. his destructive smile makes me shiver. something seems to keep me away from him.

“who are you?”

his appearance reminds me of a mythical figure. incisive eyes and dazzling lips, while looking dangerous. “i’m out of fuel, where’s the nearest station?” i heave a relieved sigh. this stranger looked like an assassin, making me think i had seen my end. “it’s quite far,” i admit, making him sigh. it’s on the tip of my tongue to invite him in, but i know i’ll regret it. this situation would be the perfect opening of a horror movie.

“my name is jongin,” he eventually answers my first question. jongin reaches out his hand which i shake wavering. his touch gives me a nauseous feeling. “kyungsoo,” i say a bit timid. jongin leans against the wall as he repeats my name. out of sudden i get a stabbing headache.

“i’m sorry, i must go,” i stutter in pain. yet jongin blocks the door with his foot. “can i, at least, drink a glass of water?” is he trying to enter my house? i’ve seen enough movies to know what would happen next. “sure, i’ll get it,” i smile, trying to forget the headache. i walk, almost run, to the kitchen. my view seems to be blurred by the minute and my headache is unbearable. eventually i find a water bottle. as fast as possible, i stroll to the front door which i reopen.

gone

the bottle in my hands falls on the ground. the stranger jongin, where is he? i check if he isn’t on the street, but his car has disappeared too. didn’t he say he was out of fuel? suddenly the sky is lit by a lightening. i won’t stay here a minute longer, as long as i don’t know where jongin is. i grab my coat and leave my house, to my car. i may overreact and i could blame it on the movies i’ve watched. yet i’ve never had such a bad feeling about someone.

“kyungsoo?” chanyeol is at his door, wearing a loose shirt and ruffling his hair. does he have company, i wonder mischievous. “you have guests?” i grin, pointing to his half- lower body. chanyeol chuckles, not even ashamed. “come, baekhyun’s here,” he informs me, but i know enough. he already told me about their ‘affectionate’ friendship. i enter his apartment to see baekhyun, dressed, on the bed.

“kyungsoo? i thought the dinner was canceled,” baekhyun shows an innocent smile. i’d almost forget what dirty thoughts he sometimes has. it is almost hilarious that baekhyun is assuming i know nothing. that i don’t know that the two have been fooling around for weeks. “i thought that too,” i wink at chanyeol. baekhyun has no idea what is going on.

“but what brings you here? i know how much you hate driving in a storm,” chanyeol’s question is difficult to answer. how should i explain? there may be a stranger creeping around my house? or am i being delusional?

“can i stay here this night?” i answer the question with one. chanyeol enthusiastically nods. “of course, i thought you hated my place!” well, i’m not denying his words. “i do hate it here,” i seriously mention. his apartment is chaotic and for a neat person like me, that is a nightmare. at my house, everything must be in place and i clean daily, unlike chanyeol.

baekhyun seems to understand me. “well, you should really clean up. i mean, those pizza crusts have been on the floor for ages,” he says, which makes me regret sleeping here. chanyeol groans and glances at baekhyun. “i don’t have time to clean. I'm busy,” he waves away the topic. of course he is, i think sarcastically.

next morning

i wake up to the smell of burnt toast and then remember i’m with chanyeol. grumpy i step to the bathroom and wash my face. my reflection shows a fatigued and frowning young man, as always. still there’s something that seems unusual on my face. i can’t put my finger on it, but it’s there.

“kyungsoo, breakfast’s ready,” i hear chanyeol shouting. one last time, i stare at the man in the mirror and then go to the kitchen. i can tell chanyeol did his best, and it’s sweet of him. i slowly eat the half burned eggs. “it’s nice,” i compliment chanyeol. his face beams and he starts eating too. “you should come more often, it has been a while,” he murmurs while being busy on his phone. i know i’ve been locking myself from the outside world lately.

“it hasn’t been that long ago,” my stubborn-self says, making chanyeol laugh. “the last time you came was,” chanyeol interrupts himself as he thinks about it, “two months ago, kyungsoo!” i heave a sigh.

is he expecting me to be with him every day? i used to when i lived besides him, but i moved out of the apartment. the city life was too crowded for me, so i moved to the house of my deceased aunt. “well, i’m here now,” i shortly answer. chanyeol doesn’t seem to understand me, and keeps talking. “i still don’t get why you live in that old house. can’t you come back?” he complains with a full mouth.

i didn’t choose to make my life antisocial, i’m just not myself lately. curtains closed the whole day, small appetite, it all pointed to migraine. but after the doctor said i just needed more sleep, i don’t know anymore.

chanyeol coughs to attract my attention. “kyungsoo, tell me what you’re up to?” he encouragingly smiles. i’m really a bad friend if i don’t tell him the truth. “i think i’m sick,” i finally confess. chanyeol’s eyes are wide-open. “what disease?” i shrug my shoulders, and finish my breakfast. “i just feel different,” i tell him. i should go out, make memories and enjoy my youth. instead, i’m behaving like an old, grumpy man. chanyeol remains silent, only the sound of his fork tapping his plate can be heard.

“i wanted to ask you something since yesterday,” he starts talking as if he isn’t sure if he should continue. i frown, not prepared for his question. “tell me,” impatiently leaves my mouth. “your eyes, kyungsoo,” he quietly says. what is he saying? “my eyes?” i repeat his words. is he joking? however, chanyeol’s face is serious. he doesn’t seem to answer and makes me repeat the question.

“what’s with my eyes?”

“they constantly change colors.”