The air was a bit humid today, but it doesn't matter. After an 11 hour flight all the way from San Diego, I'm finally here. 

It took me a bit of challenge to convince myself that I need to migrate here and leave everything behind. But I wanted this. I was on a quest.

I want to find the perfect story. Something that would make people scratch their heads with its twists and turns, but gasp in awe when they finished reading it.

I'm no writer. Heck, I've never written a story in my life. But something happened that made me wanna change that.

You may be thinking who I am, what I do for a living, and what I am doing right now. But I know what I'm doing. And I can guarantee you that I will find that perfect story.

But first, it has to start with me here from where I am standing.

I'm in the middle of a busy Incheon Airport, feeling a little jetlagged from the long flight and just wanting to go to my new home.

But luck never have once favored me, because there weren't any taxis available.

Great.

I stomped back inside and almost got hit by a man.

"Woah there, be careful." he chuckled and helped me find my balance.

He was gorgeous, but I really wasn't in the mood because of my throbbing head.

"Are you okay?" he asked me. I nodded but immediately regret doing it because my head ached even more.

"No, you don't look okay, here let me help you." he held my luggages and assisted me to one of the chairs. He held out a water bottle and I took it and bowed in respect.

"Thanks for helping me. I just have this really painful headache."

I heard him chuckling once again.

"Probably jetlag." he said. "There aren't any taxis available at this hour, do you mind if I drop you off from where you live?"

I suddenly felt suspicious. I didn't even know this man, but here he is offering to drop me off to my new home.

"I don't even know you mister." I tried to be frank, although it sounded really rude because of my piercing head.

"You don't........... know me?" he sound dumbfounded.

"Wait, am I supposed to know you?" I retorted, feeling a little embarrassed. Since I came from america I never really knew anything about my mother's home country except the language.

"No, no, you must be new here. It's okay i understand." he smiled making me swoon. I've never seen a guy quite a gentleman as him. The boys in america seemed a little too...... liberated if you ask me.

"My name is Taemin. And I'm pretty sure you're gonna know who I am soon. But for now, please let me accompany you. Where do you plan on going anyway?"

I smiled at him. He seems nice, and i don't think he's gonna do anything bad.

"Yangcheon district. That's where my apartment is."

He led me to his car, which looks pretty expensive. This isn't an ordinary guy I assume.

When we arrived, I thanked him and proceeded to go out of the vehicle.

"Wait! You haven't told me your name yet." he said.

"Just call me Krystal. Thank you for the ride Taemin!" I waved him goodbye and he did the same, and I watched as he drove ahead, leaving me pondering about who he is.

After conversing with the front desk staff, she led me to my floor and my room door. I bowed in respect and prepared to open the door while she left.

But even before I could type the passcode, the door beside mine opens and it feels as if heaven's doors are opening.

Standing there was an angel. He looked so beautiful, even more beautful than Taemin.

He glanced at me and sneered before proceeding inside an elevator that opened just in time.

I made a face. Well that wasn't a very nice welcoming.

I ignored him. Who needs nice neighbors when you can sleep and get rid of jetlag!

I woke up in the middle of the night. I heard some shouting coming from the neighbor's house.

That wasn't very nice of him. He ignored me the first time we met and now he won't let me sleep.

I let him shout and shout. Maybe he's just really angry right now. I hope he doesn't do this often.

That was when i remembered the story I was about to make. Maybe I can start it now.

I got a notebook from my unopened luggage and started scribbling thoughts. I found myself getting in with the emotions.

And in that warm summer night, I wrote the first few lines of the perfect story while listening to the exasperating screams of my neighbor.

The neighbor beside me practiced scream therapy whenever he's sad. The first time I heard him, I stood in the bedroom listening at our shared wall for 10 minutes, debating the wisdom of calling the police. It feels very different living here in an apartment. But I like it. Everything's starting to get interesting.