60 Days until the Auction House

“You’re looking terrible.”

Ryeowook shot Heechul a withering look. He didn’t need someone to point out how tired he was and he definitely didn’t need it when there was so much mounting stress. This was always the worst part of the film production process for him. They were always making last minute changes to the tracks and obviously who else would be in charge of those changes but Ryeowook? The nights were growing longer and the feeling of claustrophobia only intensified the more time he spent in the studio.

Heaving a sigh, Ryeowook leaned back in the leather chair, closing his eyes for a moment. “It’s that time of the month. I’m not getting much sleep.”

The older man placed two hands on his shoulders, massaging them firmly. “Well, if you’re not sleeping anyway, why not swing by my place?”

Ryeowook could practically see the smirk in his voice. “You’re funny.” He didn’t pull away from the massage though, only then realizing how tense his shoulders were. Rolling his neck, he leaned into the touch. “God, thanks,” he muttered.

“No problem,” Heechul raised a brow, amused. “You really are stiff as hell. I can recommend a masseuse. She does a great job and the price isn’t bad.”

“Sure,” Ryeowook yawned. “That might actually be a good idea with the way things have been going.” He slowly opened his eyes, rubbing away the blurriness. Aside from the late nights, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It had been ongoing on for a month, at least. But without any proof or sightings, it just sounded like he was a slightly paranoid and sleep deprived man—which, in all fairness, he was.

That made things worse.

Heechul frowned. “Y’know, we’re pretty much on schedule. It actually wouldn’t hurt if you slacked a little and fell a day behind. The next phase of production will be making promotional ads anyway, so you’d have some wiggle room to tweak the final music score before everything is sent in stone.” He slowly released Ryeowook’s shoulders, ruffling the younger man’s hair lightly.

“But seriously, you look like . Get some rest.”

“I know,” he huffed, knocking Heechul’s hand away lightly. “I’ll head home earlier tonight. What time is it anyway?”

“Nearly 11pm.”

Ryeowook wanted to curl into a ball. Raking fingers through his hair, he stood up slowly. “Okay, I definitely need to get some rest. I didn’t realize it was so late.” In reality, it wasn’t as late as he had been staying the past few days, but no one needed to comment on that. No matter how he wanted to bend the truth, 11pm was late for work, especially considering that he had come in around 7am.

“You want me to walk you home?” Heechul asked as Ryeowook swung on his overcoat and slung his bag over one shoulder.

“I drive, hyung,” he chuckled, “but thanks for the offer.”

Heechul shrugged, smirking lightly. “Had to try.” Waving goodbye, he headed toward the studio door first. “Good night, Ryeo-ah.”

“Night.”

The wind whistled loudly around the silent car.

Ryeowook steadied his breathing as he sat stock still in the driver’s seat. This was the worst part of the night in his opinion. He had never hated parking so far from home before. Although nothing had happened to him, it was obvious that there was something out there. He didn’t know what, but it followed him.

A stalker? Is that what he was facing? It was hard to tell. Shadows always flickered in the corners of your eyes if you were watching. Therefore, Ryeowook had convinced himself to just stop freaking out.

But then things got worse.

For the past week, he had been hearing footsteps just paces behind him. Sometimes he even turned around and would see a flash of a person before they disappeared around a corner, into an alley, through thin air. He couldn’t tell.

So now, he had come to prepare himself mentally in the supposedly safe confines of his car. In all actuality though, peering around the dark parking garage only heightened his fear. It was eerily silent and he knew it was his fault for choosing a quieter district of the city. The idea had been full of good thoughts but somehow he was regretting being somewhere with few witnesses.

With a deep breath, he opened his door and shut it behind him, locking it quickly before taking off at a brisk pace. He kept his head low, shoulder scrunched up to his ears as he hurried down the street. There are never enough streetlights.

As he came within a block of his street, the footsteps came.

Ryeowook didn’t break stride. He picked up the pace.

Rather then hearing them continue with a steady beat, the scuffing of shoes grew louder and more erratic. Ryeowook chanced a look over his shoulder and nearly gave a shout when the silhouette of a person was in clear view beneath the floodlamps.

Breaking into a run, he pumped his arms with each step, bag swinging wildly at his side. He couldn’t even hear his pursuer over the sound of his own breaths. Was this a joke? Maybe Heechul or one of his other coworkers was playing a prank on him? That wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities.

He didn’t want to slow down to find out though.

A cold, leather glove curled around his shoulder.

Ryeowook did shout this time, shrill and sharp. Jerking around, he swung the heavy bag into the stranger, hearing them grunt and release. For a staggering moment, Ryeowook froze, staring at the masked person holding their head with both hands. “W...Who are you?” he croaked, legs already shaking with adrenaline once again. Not actually waiting for an answer, Ryeowook shot forward, stumbling and tripping as he turned sharply onto his street and flew through the doors of his apartment building lobby.

Catching his breath, he stood gasping in the well lit room, eyes wide and entire body trembling. He sank to the ground, not understanding what had possessed that person to attack him. It was all so sudden and although he expected someone to be watching him, it was the first time someone had touched him.

Three sharp raps at the glass doors made him freeze. Ryeowook debated turning around, his back to the entrance. Did he follow me? He came all the way here? You needed a particular key card to be let in and although it was a small thing, it did increase security somewhat. He can’t touch me if I’m in here.

The knocking came again and this time, a voice called out, “Are you alright?”

Ryeowook frowned, confused. Slowly turning, he nearly curled up on the ground from relief. A delivery boy was watching him with concerned eyes through the glass doors. Gripping the floor for a moment, he took a breath before standing up on still shaky legs.

Carefully, he approached the front doors, eyes darting around and beyond the delivery boy. He pushed the door open a crack. “Yes? Who are you delivering to? It’s common practice to call the correct apartment so the person can come down to meet you,” Ryeowook explained.

“Ah, I see. It’s my first day,” the boy responded sheepishly. He held a plastic bag with a meal set in one hand and a written address in the other. “Can you direct me to Kim Ryeowook, Room 1513?”

“Uh, that’s me,” he answered dumbly, eyes widening in surprise. “I didn’t order anything though.” Ryeowook’s stomach gave a disapproving growl and he blushed, dropping his eyes. He hadn’t eaten yet, but he definitely hadn’t ordered food.

The boy nodded. “Yeah, it says from Heechul-hyung to Ryeo-ah. Here you go,” he smiled, handing over the note and food.

Ryeowook didn’t know what to say, so instead he just nodded and took the food with great hesitation. Heechul wasn’t normally that thougthtful. Had Ryeowook really looked that shaken up earlier? He nodded once more at the delivery boy before turning and heading for the elevators. As much as he disliked the idea, he would have to call or message Heechul to say thank you.

As he glanced down at the note, his eyes caught on ink bleeding through the paper. He frowned, flipping it over.

In dark blue ink, another set of words had been hastily scribbled on the back.

Next time.

Ryeowook whirled around. The delivery boy was gone. The shadows were at bay. Only the wind seemed to howl.