Kibum struggled through layers of awareness. There was a pulse beating through him, a rhythm, an imperative. It pounded through him and would not let him rest. Hurry, hurry, it thudded. Hurry or you’ll be too late!

But he was so tired. He felt like he was being crushed between layers of tissue paper like a butterfly in a press, but he could no more ignore the pulsing urgency than he could command his own heart to stop beating. He struggled into wakefulness with a gasp and a jerk, his pulse thumping wildly in his throat. He was half-out of the bed before his eyes were even open, a cry of alarm - his own - echoing in his ears. His bare feet hit a cold floor, shocking alertness through him. He knew where he was. The sounds and smells of hospital were all too familiar.

How long had he been asleep? Hurry, hurry. He tore an IV port out of the back of his hand, barely noticing the pain, and unclipped a pulse oximeter from his finger. Then he stood still and took deep breaths until the hospital room stopped swaying. There was nobody in here, only medical equipment. The heart-rate monitor now was beeping rapidly at him, complaining that he’d taken the oximeter off, and he knew the noise would summon nurses and doctors. In fact he could already hear footsteps. He had to get out of here. Hurry, hurry!

He slipped out of the door into an empty corridor. The approaching footsteps were just around the corner. He darted in the opposite direction and skidded into a waiting bay where several people looked up from their magazines and newspapers at him in surprise. He ignored them. There was an emergency exit across the waiting bay, and he ran for it, through the heavy fire door into a steep concrete stairwell, where a sign on the wall told him he was on the fourth floor. He started running down the steps, the concrete cold and rough beneath his bare feet, the baggy hospital pyjamas flapping around his ankles.

His internal clock had caught up with him. He’d lost a whole day. It was already after 6 pm on Saturday, and he somehow had to get all the way across the city to the park in Incheon where the concert was being held in less than two hours. He had no money on him, and all he was wearing was a pair of hospital pyjamas and a paper medical bracelet. Cursing aloud, he came to the ground floor and an exit leading to the outside. He stepped out onto the street and into a blast of freezing air that nearly took his breath away. The dark sky was underlit a strange, heavy umber, and he smelled rain and thunder in the distance.

Could he hail a taxi looking like this? He had to try. He’d find someone at the venue to pay for him. He ran up the side alley he'd popped out in and onto the main street. Hugging one arm around his chest for the tiny scrap of warmth it offered him, he stuck the other arm out and waved frantically at passing taxis. None of them stopped. He swore aloud. It must be the hospital pyjamas. He probably looked like an escaping lunatic.

"Kibum?" It was Jinki’s voice, so astonished that his voice cracked. Kibum would have laughed if he hadn't been so desperate. He turned around and was pulled straight into Jinki's arms. His friend hugged him fiercely, pressing waves of shock and love and confusion into him.

"What are you doing?" His voice vibrated through Kibum’s chest. He sounded angry, but Kibum knew it was concern that made him sound that way. Jinki pulled back, gripping his upper arms and staring at him. "How did you get out here? God, you're barefoot, you'll freeze to death -"

"Hyung, Minho's concert," Kibum interrupted. "I have to go there. Help me hail a taxi. Nobody will stop for me looking like this."

"No!" Jinki shook his head. "You're sick, you should be in hospital right now. You can't go to Minho's concert. He'll understand. He didn't even want us to come, he wanted us to stay with you, but Mr. Jang insisted - "

"No, you don't understand!" Kibum was nearly dancing with anxiety. "Something bad's going to happen. Jessica warned me, she said Minho was in danger and that we shouldn’t go to the concert. I'm sure Mr. Jang has something terrible planned. Please believe me, I have to get there!" He pushed his urgency at Jinki, so strong that Jinki nearly staggered. His eyes grew round as he felt the intensity of Kibum's desperation.

"I know it sounds crazy, but you have to trust me," Kibum pleaded.

Jinki swallowed. "I can't believe