One good thing about music- when it hits you, you feel no pain.

-Bob Marley

I wake up to black.

Suffocating, choking black. It clouds my vision like smoke. I blink, trying to push it away, but in vain. I imagine the smoke creeping its way down my throat, clouding my lungs, fogging my mind. Irrational, raw panic crashes into me.

“He’s in v-fib!” I hear someone scream. “Paddles-”

But I open my eyes just before a crack of lightning splits my vision into two electric halves.

“He’s up,” someone announces. My vision slowly clears, and I can see, but the dark, sooty undertone does not fade.

“Wh-wh-”

“Hush, don’t speak.” A female voice says. I look around.

I am in the hospital. A heart monitor is attached to my left index finger. A nurse is bustling around my bed, tightening stuff and tucking stuff.

“Are you feeling okay?” The nurse asks me. She is middle-aged, and I can see fine wrinkles on her face. She looks like a nice aunt.

“Darling, don’t zone out like that- talk to me. Are you feeling okay? No pains anywhere?” I realize that I have been focusing on the swirls of leafy-green in the smoky black.

“Um. Sorry. I’m fine, I think. A little sore,” I feel a small stab of pain when I gingerly move my shoulders, but other than that, I’m mostly okay.

“Good, that’s good. I’ll have the doctor come over and check, though, just to be sure.” She touches the heart monitor on my finger one last time and leaves.

I close my eyes after the door swings shut.

What the happened?

I run through what I remember- Sooyoung calling me and asking me to come in on a Saturday, me going to work by bus, and then…

It hits me.

The song. The audition recording.

I slowly remember the explosive lights in contrast to the soft voice I was hearing. I must have collapsed.

Embarrassment and shock course through my veins. The last time this happened...

I forcefully, painfully push the thought away.

The doors open to reveal a doctor.

“Hello, Kibum-ssi.” He says. His voice is dark, dark chocolate.

“Doctor,” I say. He smiles at me. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay…”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“I think so- I must have collapsed because of too much stimuli.”

His face scrunches up in confusion. I realize too late that he must not know about my chromaestesia.

“Stimuli?” he echoes.

“Uh-” I wonder how to explain it to him, when the doors swing open again.

It is Sooyoung.

“Oh, thank !” she breathes, putting a dramatic hand on her chest. “I thought you died! You scared the out of me, Kibum!” her face is pale. Her voice is a high, panicked aquamarine.

“He’s perfectly alright, Ms Choi. I’d like you to leave now, because I have to conduct tests on him.” The doctor says firmly. Sooyoung blinks at the doctor, and shoots me a nervous glance.

“Could you tell me what happened? I mean- was it my fault? I’ll take care of the bill, Key, don’t worry!” she says. She doesn’t know about my condition. All she knows is that the music I choose always, always, hits it big.

“No, Sooyoung-ssi, it was not your fault. Now please, visiting hours are after eight a.m.”

Wait. Eight a.m.?!

“I’ve been unconscious for how long?” I squeak.

“T