Woohyun for AshesAngel. Hey guys hehe ... he ..... he. Okay, oh my gosh I am so sorry for going MIA over the past couple of months. Homework and group projects are literally taking over my life. But, alas, I found some time to write this quick drabble even though I should be writing an essay right now. But I promise that I will try to get my last two requests done ASAP! Thanks so much for sticking with us even though we haven't been posting! -Admin Kelc

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“I just need to check my mailbox,” your friend says as you both enter your university’s mailroom, “It should only take a second. And I should have one of those pick up slips in there this time because I know that my package came in today.”

“That’s what you said last time,” you remind her, “And the time before that, and the time before that …”

“Oh shut up,” she rolls her eyes before walking down one of the mailbox-lined aisles.

You laugh and shake your head.

‘Might as well check this thing while I’m here,’ you think to yourself as you turn down the aisle with your mailbox.

After skimming pass the numbers etched into the tiny metal doors, you squat down in front of your assigned mailbox and begin to spin the metal dial.

22…

17…

 30.

Click.

You open the door and peer into the small slot, your eyes widening when you see a square sheet of paper resting in your mailbox. You pull out the slip and stare at the “Package Pick Up Slip” printed across the top in confusion.

“Oh. My. GOD,” you turn your head and see your friend stomping down towards you.

“No slip?” you smirk as you stand up.

“No! And I know they have my package! They always do! They just don’t want to give it to me!” she throws her hands up in the air in frustration before letting out a sigh, “Well, anyways, at least you got one and we didn’t have to come down here for nothing.”

You nod as you both walk towards the pick up counter.

“Do you know who it’s from?” she asks.

“No idea,” you respond as you hand the slip and your ID to the boy behind the counter.

“Maybe your parents?” she throws out a guess.

“Probably,” you shrug, “They were telling me that they were going to send a care package soon.”

The boy quickly returns and hands you a box along with your ID.

It’s a simple brown box, the edges are slightly dinged but nonetheless, in perfect condition.

“Singapore?” your friend asks as she reads the postage label, “I thought you said that you were from Seoul?”

You knit your eyebrows together as you read the package label.

“I am,” you say slowly. 

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You punch in your passcode and push open the door to your dorm room as you balance your box with one hand.

“Hey,” your roommate calls as she looks up from her notebook.

“Hey,” you breathe as you throw your backpack and box onto your bed.

“Got a package today?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you smile and search your desk for a pair of scissors.

“Who’s it from?”

“I have no idea,” you murmur as you lift up a stack of papers and find your scissors.

You cut the tape open and close your scissors. When you open the box, it’s as if you took a er punch to the gut and all the wind was knocked completely out of you. You vaguely hear your roommate stand up from her desk and walk over to you.

“Is that a light saber?” she asks over your shoulder as she peers into the box.

“It’s a light stick,” you somehow manage to choke out despite the tightness of your throat.

You continue to stare at the contents of the box. An official Infinite One Great Step light stick and a small tour date card both nestled in pristine white confetti. With shaky hands, you pull the card out of the box, noticing how dates were crossed out and a star was drawn next to “11/8 Los Angeles”. You flip the card over and bite down on your bottom lip when you saw a message written on the back.

Six more steps till you.

-NWH

“Oh my gosh, what’s wrong?!” your roommate cries out.

You look up at her in confusion.

“Why are you crying?” she asks you with wide eyes as she rushes to grab a tissue from her desk.

You wipe your cheek with your hand and realize that tears were streaming down your face.

“Um, I need to call someone,” you whisper quickly before grabbing your phone and going into the hall.

You rapidly dial the number you knew by heart and sit against the wall as the phone rings.

You hear a click and a “Hello?”

You clamp your hand over your mouth and sob into your hand.

“Jagi, is that you?” Woohyun asks.

“Yeah,” you force out, giving up on trying to control your tears.

He chuckles lowly into the receiver, “So I’m guessing you got the package?”