It's been a long, long day, Chaerin thinks, before stepping out into cold air. She stops for a moment and breathes in sharply - the cold air of this November night relaxes her completely. She pulls her coat closer together and fixes her hat and scarf. She thinks how odd it feels to try and do anything with gloved fingers, but she knows she wouldn't feel her hands by the time she comes home if she didn't put them on. She never liked gloves much, but they did make her fatty little fingers look more fancy, she thought.

The long walk home seems to be exactly what she needs - the city lights and the chatter of all the happy people around her seem to be calming all her senses and clearing her mind entirely. 

After a while, she passes by a dark alley - the one she hates so much. Every time she finishes work late and has to pass by this alley, she feels the dread in her entire being. Seoul could be a dangerous city at times, and this neighborhood isn't one of the best. She tries to walk swiftly past the entrance but then stops right where she is, in the middle, in utter confusion and a glimpse of fear. She could swear she's heard something. A very low sound came from someone in remote distance, but there are no more people around her - she is practically alone in this street, save for a couple walking at the far end. All the chatter that can be heard is now coming from two blocks away. What was that?

She hears it again. She can't say if it's a huff, or a giggle, or a grumble, but it's coming from the alley. She starts walking very slowly again and she utters, reluctantly, to her own disbelief:

''If- if someone is following me or trying to scare me... or harm me... in any way... uh... let me tell you! I- I can very much kill a man in three seconds... I was trained! Yes, so... don't... test me...''

But then she hears the sound again, and now she understands what it is - a gasp, or a moan even. She can't believe what she's doing, but she's now approaching the source of the low sound, and every inch closer that she gets, the cries become clearer to her.

Next to a trash container she sees a silhouette of a human being, leaned against the wall and curved in what seems to unmistakably be terrible pain. Realizing this, she hurries and quickly kneeles next to the person. The moment she does that she realizes that she's kneeling next to a small pool of blood.

''Oh my God...'' she gasps, feeling panic rising in her, her fingers shaking. ''Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.''

''Not God...'' the man mutters with whatever strength he has left in him, ''You missed it... by a letter.''

''Oh my God, you are... you are... no... no, this cannot be'' she almost whispers, her voice cracking and tears welling up in her eyes. She is in the absolute state of shock and her hands are shaking terribly. How is he here? It's him - she can see it clearly now. His face is almost entirely convered in blood, but she recognizes him. He is supposed to be dead. She saw it everywhere. He is supposed to be dead. She shakes her head in disbelief and denial and many many other emotions taking over her like a nasty sandstorm.

''You should be dead. You are dead. How are you here? What is happening-?'' she asks, louder this time, her voice wavering. She gulps the tears back; she cannot break down.

''I'm... obviously... not... dead'' he grunts, making a face of terrible pain with each utterance. ''But I... might be... dying.''

Chaerin does what she thinks she should've done long ago now - she hastily goes through her bag in search for a phone and once she grabs a hold of it, she tries to dial the correct numbers. Her fingers shake too much and she cannot even hit 119. The man before her somehow manages to grab her wrist and he says: ''Please... no hospital... I'm... I should be dead...''

''But you're not! And you need help! And people need explanations-''

''No! Please...'' he utters, and she sees in his eyes that he's begging. She doesn't understand anything at all.

''Do you want to die?'' she asks. ''Because even if you do, I'm not going to grant you that wish.''

''Do whatever you want, just... no hospital... please...'' he struggles. ''Then all would... all would be in vain.''

''What would be in vain?''

''Everything- I did. I- I need... to remain dead. Please...''

She cannot believe what she's hearing. Her common sense is telling her that she shouldn't give a damn about what this man thinks and she should call the damn ambulence. But she can see the despair in his eyes, and she's not only looking with her own pair of hazel-colored irises - she's looking with her heart. She can literally feel how bad this man wants not to be found. And she does the stupidest thing ever.

She carefully but quickly checks his wounds and sees that the only major injury he seems to have is the one on his head. She touches his body but he doesn't cry out - he only winces. He is bruised, but not broken, she concludes; and she cannot believe he's not entirely broken into pieces.

''You jumped off your villa; how did you not break anything?''

''Lucky'' he hisses.

''Your head is in pretty bad shape. You didn't break a bone but you hit your head so hard you're losing blood at the speed of light.''

''Leave.. me'' he mutters.

''No!'' she exclaims, before she falls into a minor breakdown. ''Of course I won't leave you! Are you insane? I mean, of course you are insane, seeing that you jumped off your damn house, but... do you have any- Ugh! You need professional help! I can't help you... Oh God, I can't help you. You're bleeding... Oh God-''

''Please...'' he can only barely say, and right now his eyes seem to be rolling back, and his eyelids fall shut, and he's struggling to stay awake.

''No. No! Not now, no, you don't get to do that,'' she says hastily, ''you don't get to do that now that I'm in this mess; you're going to stay awake for me, okay? Can you do that, please? Just stay awake for me.''

His eyes flutter open but he can't hold them like that for long. Chaerin starts thinking and her mind is literally racing but she can't think of much, it seems. She takes off her gloves and puts them on his hands, and she does the same with her scarf seeing that he has a terrible fever. She tries to put her coat on him, very careful not to hurt him. He's been lying there in nothing but a button-up shirt for who knows how long. She then decides to put her beanie hat on his head, and it covers his wound. It doesn't stop it from bleeding but the black beanie seems to be covering it up and would do so for at least a while. She grabs wet napkins from her bag and wipes his face as clean as she can. ''Alright'' she whispers to herself, trying her hardest to steady her breathing as well as her heartbeat. ''Alright'' she repeats, mentally giving herself a pep talk.

She carefully tries to pick the man off the ground, and it doesn't seem too difficult a task seeing that he's rather skinny and lithe. However, he has no strength in him to help her so she has to use every ounce of her own to move him and put him on his feet. With one of his arms around her neck she tries to help him walk, but he can barely stand, let alone walk. She has to literally drag him out of the valley, and once she does she screams out: ''TAXI!!!'' She knows it's unbelievable, unimaginable luck that a cab appears at the most right of all the moments in human history.

She puts the nearly dying man on the back seat and sits next to him. He is now completely unable to keep his eyes open. Once she sees the terrified look on the taxi driver's face, she fakes a weak smile and says: ''He had a bit too much to drink.'' The driver seems to buy it and steps on the pedal, and Chaerin exhales in relief. She pulls the collar of her coat higher over the superstar's face, and she pulls the hat lower. No one recognized him so far, good, she thinks. But what is she doing?

This man could very well die in her hands. He could very well die in her apartment. How would she explain a dead GD in her apartment after he was already pronounced dead by suicide? What was she thinking? What is she doing?

But she has no time to think about that because before she knows it, they've arrived. She basically carries him upstairs to her apartment and prays to God not to let her run out of strength and drop him. By some miracle - she doesn't.

She manages to quickly place him on her bed and she basically runs across the apartment to get the first aid kit and a bottle of water. She splashes the water on his face to awaken him, and he does awaken, quite abruptly. 

''Oh thank God'' she mutters, feeling slightly dizzy herself, ''please stay awake. Please, just... stay awake.''

She quickly takes the hat off his head and gets to disinfecting the wound. The alcohol on open flesh hurts like a and the wounded man hisses and winces and makes all sorts of terrible faces of pain but Chaerin chooses to stay calm and proceed without looking at him. She cleans the wound, and then she wraps it up temporarily, and she thanks God almighty she still remembers how to do the things she learned in her first aid classes. She will not let this man die, no matter what he had planned.