Shanghai
Seventeen HoursRyeowook could hardly believe he was doing it. The twenty-five-year-old man nearly bubbled over with excitement as he scampered giddily across the platform of the train station.
Now, it can be hard to imagine a grown man scampering let alone in a giddy fashion, but Kim Ryeowook was no ordinary man. No, he was petite and frail and before yesterday the mere thought of being alone had been, well, unthinkable. So the fact that he was now here, in China, with no one else around, was enough to make him want to dissolve into a gooey mess of joy onto the shiny, tiled floor.
But he didn't because that would make a mess for the custodians.
Bouncing alongside the vibrant red train, Ryeowook made his way through the crowd. Those who had already found their cabins were shutting their curtains. One by one, he watched the windows grow dark.
Eventually, Ryeowook's car came into view: car number eight. He hauled his suitcase onto the train, making sure to mind the gap. Then, he hopped over it himself, stumbling along the way.
This was it, he thought. One last chance to turn back. Ryeowook swallowed. As he turned towards the exit door, his heartbeat, a rapid mess from the running he'd had to do before, became a pounding between his ears.
No. This was happening. Just like he knew it would. Finally, he was going to do something worth doing and he was going to do it alone. The thought made tears spring to his eyes as a smile spread over his face.
Silly Wookie, he chastised himself. How could you get overwhelmed so easily?
But the petite male couldn't help it. The muscles of his throat constricted as wetness blurred his vision. Luckily, he had the foresight to wipe the tears away before they stained his soft cheeks. After a couple minutes of standing in the entryway, Ryeowook grabbed his suitcase and started down the aisle.
Many cabin doors were open; their commotion to poured out into the halls. A man and a woman were outside one, struggling to fit their suitcase through the door. A small family was inside another; the kids fought over the top bunk bed. A cabin in the middle contained a group of burly looking males; one of which who gave a Ryeowook a cold stare before slamming the door. Perhaps it would be best to stay out of their way.
Edging his way down the narrow hall, Ryeowook found his way to the end of the car. (Not even he could get lost in a straight hallway) The door of this cabin was closed, a flaking 140 painted on top. Ryeowook pulled out his ticket.
"Car No. 8 - Cabin 143 – Bed 2B"
Ryeowook grinned. He’d made it. At this point, it hardly mattered who or what was behind that door; he was ready for to make this adventure his. With one swift motion, he slid open the door.
The first thing he noticed was the white. There was a lot of it. The walls, the beds, even the little table by the window. A man in a ratty (white) t-shirt sat hunched over it, slurping noodles out of a paper cup. By the looks of it, he had already made himself at home. Ryeowook's appearance drew his attention for maybe half a second.
Stepping into the cabin was like stepping into his shoe-closet back home. The whole place couldn't have been more than two meters wide, if that. This included the beds, which were basically benches with sheets. Ryeowook knew he'd roll of it at some point.
His elation dropped slightly.
Walking completely into the room, he noted that the top bunks were empty meaning it wouldn't be too crowded. For now. Setting his luggage aside, Ryeowook settled down on the bench. The other man still shoveled noodles in his mouth like a starved prisoner. Either the guy didn't notice Ryeowook blatantly staring at him or he just didn't care.
Ryeowook hesitated before leaning forward. "Hello!" he blurted. Then, he blurted it again only this time in Chinese.
The other man looked up, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. "Hello."
Ryeowook beamed, excited to have gotten a reply. "How are you?" he asked.
"...I'm fine," the man answered.
Ryeowook waited half a beat then realized he wasn't going elaborate. So he continued, "Where are you going?"
"...Fuzhou."
"Really? Me too!" Ryeowook was ecstatic. "That means we'll be together the whole ride!"
The other man gave him a nice, thin-lipped smile. "That's great," he said, still holding his chopsticks in midair.
Ryeowook couldn't have agreed more. Just as he was about to introduce himself, a sudden jolt shook his seat. A train whistle blared in the distance, and suddenly, the scene outside began to change.
"The train is moving!" Ryeowook squealed. In an instant, he forgot all about the dark haired man and had sealed himself to the window.
What a wonderful start to a seventeen hour ride.
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