Taemin moved hastily, yet cautiously. In his mind, every corner held one of the perpetrators, and behind him he was stalked, stalked by a man with a machete, a man with a grudge held against him and-   No​, he couldn't think about Jonghyun. Not yet.
Taemin rounded a corner, footsteps silent and breathing constricted. He had very little clue where he was going. Every door was closed. He didn't understand the layout of the building, not really, but had decided that, instead of being a block of apartments or flats, it had been a hotel; the doors were too closely placed to hold living premises large enough to sustain someone for any more than a few weeks, it seemed. This meant, however, that finding the staircases was made even more difficult as he walked down the long corridors that had been stripped of their once lavish wallpaper and carpets. It also meant that the chances of being spotted were invariably huge, and he had no way of escaping.
He dashed quickly forwards, head whipping backwards spontaneously, charting every conceivable direction. His head almost began to reverberate at the fretful twisting of his neck, but it didn’t bother him. The worst thing he felt, past the anger and devastation at what had just occurred to Jonghyun, was the curiosity pecking away at him blindly. Part of him wished he'd pressed Eunjin further, asked her for more information, but in the moment he'd moved with haste. He didn’t know why he trusted Eunjin – chances were, this was just another trap. Maybe he was being broadcast to the nation as he walked, his limpid skin-tone and heavy eyes shown to terrified fans and acquaintances alike.
Taemin shook his head.
He trusted Eunjin. He had to.
Finally, Taemin reached an intersection, and burst through two double glass doors to see the next part of the staircase, and an elevator beside it. It seemed the building was segmented, unlike other architectures that had all the stairs leading from top to bottom in one place, making his journey much more threatening.
A crooked, embossed sign read that the rooms on the next floor were numbered from forty to sixty-nine, and so Taemin guessed he'd only have to find one more flight of stairs to reach his destination. Gripping the banister of the once-regal, now moulded and dilapidated, staircase, he began his ascent quietly.   It was only when he reached the first corner in the staircase that he heard the slight mumbles and cursed, but it was too late.
Hwangsoon rounded the corner, eyes hard, halting the conversation he was having with another voice down the receiver of his cell phone to stare at Taemin, shock plastered over his face.
Time seemed to still for a moment; the corner was tight and Taemin took a step back, pressing himself against the wall, the small window above him providing the only light in the confined space. Dust particles interacted between the two men as they waged a battle of eye contact, Hwangsoon narrowing his eyes in confusion, Taemin stoic with fear. Neither moved. Neither dared.   "What the hell?!” Hwangsoon suddenly exclaimed, reaching out to grip Taemin. Taemin cursed. He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t let Hwangsoon catch him.   Awkwardly, Taemin swung his fist, hissing at the pain that ricocheted through his knuckles as it collided with Hwangsoon’s cheek. Hwangsoon staggered, phone skittering away from him and cracking against the wall, as Taemin shook his wrist, perturbed by his own actions. He was instantly brought back into reality as Hwangsoon barrelled into him, crashing them both against the wall as Taemin gasped.   Pinning Taemin in place, Hwangsoon attempted to grip the younger’s wrists to stop him from attacking, but Taemin wasn’t going to give up. He couldn't give up. Desperation coursing through him, Taemin writhed, Hwangsoon’s sour breath faint against his cheek.   Taemin slammed his forehead forward and practically screamed as pain enveloped his skull. Vibrant suns flashed in his vision and he couldn’t see anything but light, couldn't feel anything past the searing, and his sight was clotted, senses frayed. It was worse for Hwangsoon though, the older male’s distant cry echoing through Taemin.   And then they were falling.   Hwangsoon must have stumbled backwards upon the surprise impact of Taemin’s forehead smashing against his own, but given his closeness to Taemin and the way his foot had become entangle