The crash of thunder outside shakes the entire house. The man with his nose deep in his monitor screen takes off his headphones which are on full-blast and gets up to check if the windows are closed. He sits back down in front of the computer but his hands stop just before they place the headphones back on. The door chime is ringing.

Goosebumps run up his arm as he remembers a similar scene from a horror story. He slowly gets up from his swivel chair and stalks down the stairs, contemplating whether or not he should go back and grab the sword that he has always kept under his bed; just in case the zombie apocalypse arrives. Hey, you never know!

Namjoon walks to the front door and looks through the peephole. Out there in the thunderstorm on this cold winter night stands a girl, drenched from head to toe. Oh yeah, horror movie material, alright. She hugs her arms to her torso, shivering. Her teeth are chattering due to the biting cold. The thin figure that lays behind this door looks so frail that he instinctively pulls the door open.

The lady looks up immediately. Her eyes are wide; shocked? Relieved? He cannot tell. Unreadable. That's the only word that can describe those deep, mysterious black eyes. She opens to speak... before her eyes roll into the back of her head and her body falls forward. He grabs hold of her shoulders, preventing her from crashing onto himself and possibly making them both tumble to the ground.

-~-

She stumbles across the cold street, dragging her numb feel along with her. The migraine hits her like a tsunami wave and she falls to the freezing pavement, gasping for breath. She catches a soft glow coming from the window of the house up ahead to her right. She stares at it for a few moments, enchanted by the enticing light from the fire. 'Should I?' she debates with herself. She feels a little dizzy and decides this isn't the time to be shy.

'Let's just hope I don't faint before reaching the darn door,' she thinks.

Can't feel my legs.

She treads down the cold sidewalk, taking in the eerie glow as the wet surfaces reflect the streetlights above. Soaked from head to toe, it's almost ironic that she is dehydrated.

Door. How did I get here? Fire.

...

Open. Wait, what? Door. Open.

She tries to say something to the old man that stands before her... but she loses control of her consciousness before she can say a word.

Darkness. Black. Goodbye.

~

I'm awake. I'm alive! Wait, where am I? Where the hell am I? Mahogany coffee table, leather couch, fluffy eiderdown quilt... That fireplace... It looks familia- . . Oh hell no. What have I done.

There's a sound coming from the kitchen and she becomes stiff. Suddenly the white-haired man from before comes into view, holding a knife. She screams. He turns around and sees her. He screams. She screams again. They both scream. He drops the knife and runs over, shutting with his hand the moment he can reach her. "닥쳐!" ("Dak chyeo!") He whisper-shouts.

'What the heck is this crazy old man saying?' she thinks. 'Well, serves you right for coming to Korea with such limited vocabulary, Angie. With this Asian face of mine, this old - oh wait. He doesn't look so old actually, up close. Dyed hair?' her thoughts keep running as the tall stranger in front of her pulls his hand away from .

'This dude probably doesn't even realise I'm not fully Korean,' she concludes. "I beg your pardon?" she asks, Aussie accent on full blast. This time, it's the man who raises a questioning eyebrow. "I said shut up, everyone's asleep," he answers finally. His pronunciation is surprisingly good. And he speaks like an African American. With a tinge of purposely slurred up words. She likes it. She can't figure out why, but she likes the way he talks.

She is suddenly aware of their proximity and pushes him away. He seems shocked at first but then he looks at her and smirks lopsidedly, revealing the dimple in his cheek. She stares at him in slight disbelief. She can literally feel the cocky aura exuding off him. Gosh, this guy is conceited. She rolls her eyes at him.

"No, I didn't push you away 'cos I was embarrassed, you white-haired ooooold man. I just don't like being so close to people," she explains, purposely stretching out the word 'old' because she somehow knows he hates being called that. He narrows his eyes at her.

She looks down at her hands to ignore his gaze and realises something. She is not in her clothes. She's in an oversized tee and track pants. She gasps and hugs herself, moving further to the left of the couch; further away from him. "You... It wasn't you who changed my clothes, was it?"

He scoffs. "Yes, I had a really fun time taking off your clothes, piece by piece. Why don't you ask if I took advantage of you?" he answers sarcastically. She squints at him. "Ugh. It was my mum, okay? I didn't touch you. Well, other than when I saved you from falling. But nope, I don't hear no thanks for that," he says. Blood rushes to her face as she slowly remembers what happened. When she fainted, she was about to hit the floor. He must have caught her. "I'm sorry... And thanks," she mumbles softly, embarrassed. He rolls his eyes but his expression softens.

"Look, I have a whole list of questions that I'd like to ask you but..." he looks at her pale face and shakes his head. "...but I don't think you're in the condition to be interrogated right now. And well it's 4 in the morning. So I have two quick questions: you're not a criminal right?"

She shakes her head.

"Not on the wanted list?"

She shakes her head again.

He raises a dubious eyebrow.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

She squints her eyes again.

"You said two questions," she retorts, before sighing. "I know it's nothing much but I give you my word that I am not someone that will cause you or your family harm."

Her honesty probably gets through to him because he looks at her dubiously for a second but looking at her sincere expression, he nods. "Okay, I won't ask you more."

The man walks back into the kitchen and returns to put a cup of hot chocolate and a sandwich on the coffee table. The sandwich has been but in half. So that's why he was holding a knife...

"My mum's orders. Drink that. And eat the sandwich if you think you can stomach it," he says curtly, but gently. She nods. He walks up the stairs and as he walks away, she hears him mumbling, in Korean, "I should've left her outside. What've I gotten myself into..."

She watches his leaving figure with slight disdain. She might have come off rude to someone that she sort of owes her life to. But hey, looks like my Korean ain't all that bad after all - I understood what he said.

-~-

Namjoon walks back into his room and locks the door. He shut down the computer and pulls out his journal. After clicking on the table lamp, he begins writing.

6th may / 2014

Arrival of a random stranger... She... I don't even know. Mum insisted we let her stay here for the night. Mum is way too trusting. I just hope she's not some serial killer that's on the loose. Ugh. I should never have let her in. But she seems like an o-k person. But looks are deceiving. ARGH I DON'T KNOW. I need to go to sleep. If I don't write anything tomorrow: to whoever that's reading this; I'm probably dead. The person you're looking for has long black hair and normal built. She looks about 18- what the am I doing. Okay I'm going mad. I should sleep.

He shuts his journal and heaves a heavy sigh. After turning all the lights off, he lies down on his bed. His mind continues to work in overdrive, his curiosity about the girl just a few metres away from him downstairs keeps him awake. He shuts his eyes as he decides that he will have to quell his curiosity. At least for that night.

~

He wakes up to find that the girl is missing. In his hazy, sleepy, mind, he thinks that his friends would probably tell him that he's been so sleep (and women) deprived that his mind created that woman and made her appear in a lucid dream. He walks over to the couch and finds that the quilt and clothes that his mother had lent to the girl have been folded neatly. There's a note on the coffee table.

Thank you for your hospitality. I'm sorry for imposing on you. Please forgive me for the sudden intrusion last night. I was in a state of disarray. But I thank you. I thank you with all my heart and I'm sorry that I am unable to do anything to repay you. And I regret to inform you that I will not even be able to extend my gratitude to you personally as I have to leave. Goodbye. And thank you, again.

P.S: to the dude with white hair, I promise not to call you old anymore. Well, it doesn't matter anyway. Our paths probably won't cross anymore. And I'm sorry about yesterday. (Well technically it was this morning @4am). Thank you.

He shakes the paper, just to make sure it is real and not something his sleep-deprived brain is making up. Because, really. Who speaks so formally in a hey-look-I'm-leaving note? She wrote the letter in Korean except for the P.S. But he's pretty sure she's not Korean. The questions race into his mind one after the other: Just what the heck is going on? Who is she? Where did she go? Why did she disappear all of the sudden? Why was she out in the storm yesterday?

He frustratedly yanks on his hair and walks to the kitchen. He find his mother there and gives her the note. "Oh no, this won't do," she says. He asks her what she means by that. He assumed she would be fine with the disappearance of the lady. He thought that he would be the only one that is simply dying because of all of these unanswered questions. His curious nature really took a toll on him at times.

"She was running a high temperature last night. And there is a huge gash on her thigh that hasn't fully healed," his mother answers. What the-? He yells at his Mum.

"How could you let someone so suspicious stay the night?!"

She gives him those dagger eyes.

"Don't you raise your voice at me, young man. She needed our help. Besides, she doesn't seem like a bad person now, does she?" she says, motioning to the note.

What. The. Heck.

He sighs at his mother's simple-mindedness. She calls herself perceptive. He calls it over optimism.

' "Always look on the bright side of life" my . What if that girl really was a criminal?' he thinks. 'The police might come knocking on our door any minute now and we would be in deep, deep . Like thousands-of-feet-deep deep .'

...

This must be why his mother calls him a pessimist. Oh, heck. It's better to be safe than sorry, I always say. Well, says the person who keeps a sword in case of zombies. As the narrator, I can tell you that he is definitely a pessimistic scaredy-cat.

Kim Minhee shoves a package into her son's hands, knocking him out of his thoughts. "Go find her and give this to her," she orders simply. His jaw drops open in pure disbelief as he stares at her as if she is crazy.

"I'm not going to find for someone that's possibly a criminal! And she must've left for a reason, right? She probably doesn't even want to be found. AND she could be MILES away from here by now. Who knows what time she left our house?!" he yells excuse after excuse, absolutely blown out of his mind that his mother would actually go to such lengths for a mere stranger.

"Mum... Why are you doing this?"

Minhee smiles at him and says, "You know how I've always held true to my intuition?".

He nods.

"Well, intuition tells me that this lady is in need of our help. So go and find her,"

"But it's five degrees1 outside!" he protests.

And she's most possibly a lunatic!

Mrs. Kim simply hands him two coats and pushes him out of the front door. He stands in shock for a few seconds, not really grasping the entire situation. Then he turns the knob to go back in...

Only to find it locked.

"MUM! YA!!" he bangs on the door loudly but no one answers. Mr. Kim is out at work so he can't help him reason with his 'perceptive-intuitive' mother. His phone beeps, notifying him of a new message. He pulls it out of his pocket and once again he is at an utter loss of what to say.

엄마(mum): don't come back until you've at least tried to find her.

... WHAT?!

"I hope you're aware that you're making your own flesh and blood freeze in the cold out here to find for the sake of some random stranger?!" he screams.

"Correction: a random stranger in need," comes the answer.

Namjoon huffs and twists the door knob again. No luck. He decides to just go for a walk.

-~-

What have I done? What have I done what have I done what have I done?! I shouldn't have stayed the night. I shouldn't have knocked on their door. What if... what if he saw me? What if he goes after them for helping me? Oh no... god, what have I done...?!

Her mind races as she walks quickly down the street.

Okay... it's okay, now, Angie. You've already left. They're safe. Breathe.

She digs her hands into her pockets before pulling them out, empty. She sighs and smacks her forehead.

Why did I have to stupidly leave my wallet in the aeroplane?

She thanks God that her identification was on her. And her ukulele. 'At least I still have you, Snowfly,' she says to her uke.

She needs money for her transportation, so she decides to busk to get enough to get to her destination. She'll settle things from there.

She pulls out the ukulele that her mother gave to her as her 16th birthday present. She told her that her father picked it out for her, just a year before he passed. He died when she was 8. Traffic accident was what they told her. Traffic accident was what she believed.

Until a month back. When her mother left the face of this Earth too.

She wipes away her tears because people are beginning to stare. She coughs, warming up her vocal chords. She places her ukulele's casing on the floor with a note that says, 'tips please'. 'Pretty pathetic,' she mumbles to herself. She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath... then she starts to sing.

She sings the pain away, like her mother always taught her to.

"When you said your last goodbye

I died a little bit inside.

And I lay in tears in bed all night

Alone, without you by my side."¹

She sings, wishing her parents had not left her alone in this scary world.

~

Namjoon hates the cold. To the core. Cool is okay.. but cold? His mother was kind enough to give him a coat but she also gave him a female's coat... And now he has to walk around carrying this coat and people are looking at him weirdly. He looks around self consciously. He didn't even have the time to put his shades on. He pulls down the hood of his pullover, just to make sure his signature white hair is hidden well enough. If anyone recognises him, he would be dead meat.

After walking for about half an hour, he decides to take a rest and takes a seat at a bench. He fiddles around with the package in his hands. He knows it is probably food. He is hungry and not having any luck with finding the girl - partly because he is barely even trying, and is more concerned about his identity being revealed.

"You know what, heck what mum says about not taking what's not meant for you; I'm going to eat this food," he blurts. Just as he is about to open the lunch box to see if there is hot soup in any of the compartments, he hears an applause coming from a few yards down the lane. He cranes his neck and notices a small crowd gathered in the direction of the sound. His inquisitive nature takes control and he decides he is not so hungry after all.

He walk to the crowd and joins it, trying to squeeze through the middle to get a better view of what all the fuss is about. Then he hears the most captivating voice he has ever heard. And that is saying a lot. Considering who he is.

"Open your eyes put your hand in mine

And come o-oh, o-o-o-o-over to the bright side,"²

Is some foreign artiste in town? he wonders. He's finally close enough to see who is singing. But the singer has her back to him. All he sees is a girl with long, dark and slightly wavy hair that is dancing along with a little toddler who just let go of her mother's hand to circle around the girl happily. The girl laughs and she turns, following the excited toddler. He drops the package in his hand, causing the metal cutlery to crash to the ground with a loud clang.

It was her.

Everyone turns silent. Angie looks up and sees him standing there, frozen. She runs, grabbing her ukulele casing with her. Everyone stares at him.

Crap.

At first, they start yelling, probably thinking he is some kind of stalker and that is why the girl was running but then they recognise him.

Double crap.

"AAAAAHHH! NAMJOON AH~!"

Kim Namjoon, the famous rapper and leader of Bangtan Boys, loves his fans. But this man who goes by the stage name 'Rap Monster' wishes that sometimes, he could be treated like a normal person once in a while.

Even the ahjummas and ahjussis want his attention. After about a minute, he reaches his limit. Who knows how far Angie could have run by then.

"SHUT UP!" everyone stares at him, shocked. He sighs and rubs his temples.

"I'm sorry. But please, I need to go," a path clears for him instantly but as he runs towards the direction that Angie ran to, he hears a few murmurs.

"What's with him?"

"Was that girl earlier his girlfriend or something?"

He shakes his head, knowing that his name would be on the articles online in just a few moments. Bang Si Hyuk PD nim is gonna be so pissed. He stops dead in his chase as he realizes something. Why was he running after her? It's not like he really cares. He turns around to walk back in the direction of his house when his phone rings.

He glances at the caller ID and wonders if he should pick it up. After a while, he sighs and answers the call.

"Yes, mum?" he says boredly.

"So?"

He bites his tongue. Should he just lie that he has not had any luck finding her so that he can just walk back home and sink into his warm bed? He realises he has been silent for a while and his conscience gets the better of him. He tells his mother what happened.

"Well then what are you doing?! Chase after her!" Minhee says, not sure how she ended up with such a dumb son.

"Mum, she clearly doesn't want to be found, and I kinda lost the food you gave me."

"Then go buy food. Just be quick and I'm warning you - if you come back without trying to find her, I'm gonna make you pluck the weeds at night," she threatens, knowing how much her son hates bitingly cold winter nights.

She ends the call and Namjoon stands in the middle of the street for a moment, slightly flabbergasted. He should probably let his mum see a psychologist. He ignores her warning and walks in the direction of his house. He takes a few steps but something nagging at the corner of his mind makes him slow down. And it isn't just his mother's threat.

It is five degrees out, and there is a girl with a running temperature - and an unhealed scar, according to his mother - with little insulation safe for a knitted cardigan over her pullover.

He turns around again and runs back to where he saw Angie disappear into the crowd. He shakes his head, wondering why he is even doing this.

This is crazy. I'm running after a girl whose name is still a mystery to me.

A/N: I hope the re-write is better than the first. I still feel like the storyline is a little abrupt and i'm honestly not very proud of this piece of writing xD but i'm trying to tweak it so it looks a little better, hopefully. Thank you for reading!

¹ All I Want by Kodaline

² Bright Side by Lennon & Maisey