Your Atmosphere 

CHAPTER 4:

+ Old Friend +

Minho’s POV

“Oh shut up!” I sighed groggily, my right hand feeling around the bed for my phone, which was ringing incessantly at full volume. 

“Minho shut your damn phone off,” Jonghyun angrily growled from his bed on the other side of the room. In frustration, I finally opened my eyes and sat up to find it, pissed that someone was calling my phone so early and had woken both of us up. Through blurry eyes I found it, not even bothering to check the caller ID before I hit the answer button. 

“What?!” I growled into the phone, rubbing my eyes and glancing at the clock next to my bed. It was seven in the morning. 

I’m going to kill whoever this is. 

It couldn’t have been any of my friends. Everyone who knew me and Jonghyun also knew that we worked late hours, and not to call or text before noon. Ever. “Who is this?” I growled, too tired to filter my anger. There was what sounded like a squeak on the other end before a long pause. 

“Umm, h-hello. Minho?” My brows furrowed. It was a female voice, but one that I didn’t recognize. My unfriendly greeting had definitely made her nervous, whoever she was. I cleared my throat, trying to sound a little kinder, though I still felt incredibly irritated.

“Speaking. Who is this?” 

“Sorry to disturb you. This is Hyomin.” Hyomin? She hesitated. “From Italy....” My eyes bulged slightly, my mind now fully awake as the memories hit me. 

“Oh my gosh! Hyomin!” I practically yelled, once again earning an unhappy groan from the other side of the room. My eyes darted over to Jonghyun, just in time to see him roll over and tug his blanket over his head. A chuckle escaped my lips and my attention returned to the phone conversation. I had gone to Italy for a month two winters ago to stay with my uncle and help him open a new cafe. There I had met Hyomin, who was a foreign exchange student from Korea at the time, studying human relations and anthropology. We had met one day in early December, when we both haled the same cab and wound up riding around the city together. I thought back, smiling at the fond memory. It was a fated meeting, though we mostly just texted after that and I only saw her on a few more occasions. Either way, she was a cool girl and I told her that if she ever wanted to come to America, I could hook her up with some friends of mine so she had a place to stay. She never took me up on the offer, and eventually we stopped texting. But that had been two years ago...

“H-hi,” there was a short laugh on the other side of the line, and I realized then how exuberant my response had sounded. Crap Minho. I face palmed, taking a moment to steady my voice before I spoke again. 

“It’s been a long time! How are you?” 

“Yeah it has,” she chucked. “I’m doing... okay.” Again, hesitation. I frowned. She had never been a girl to hesitate about anything; she was far too confident for that. A loud sigh emitted from the receiver. “Actually I’m not. That’s why I’m calling. I have a favor to ask.” Now it was my turn to hesitate. What could she possibly be calling me for?

“Of course. Ask away.” My eyes glanced back at Jonghyun, or rather the pile of blankets that enveloped him. A soft snore emitted from the pile. 

“Well, I’m in America. Los Angeles actually...” My breath caught ever so slightly. She’s here?! “...and I was wondering if you were by any chance available this afternoon?” My brain scrambled, trying to remember if I had work today or not. I couldn’t remember. I decided it didn’t hugely matter to me, I could call in sick. 

“Yes,” I responded. “yeah I’m free. What did you wanna do?” 

Again she paused. “It’s not exactly fun.”

“That’s fine. Tell me.” 

“I was wondering if you would go with me to a funeral.” A funeral? Someone she knows died? I didn’t like the sound of that. I didn’t like the sound of Hyomin- the happiest girl I had ever met -being sad. 

“Yes of course. Are you okay?” There was a shaky intake of breath on the other line. 

“Yes I’m fine... I- if it’s okay with you. I’d like you to come. You’re the only person from here that I know besides him and I’d rather not go to his funeral alone.” 

My heart pained ever so slightly, a sickness curling in my stomach, along with a strange desire to protect her. I didn’t want her to have to face this alone; I couldn’t imagine that.

“Yes. I’ll be there. Where and when should I pick you up?” 

“I’m at Huntington Park. I’m just going to sight see until it’s time for the funeral. Perhaps you could pick me up at 2:00?” Pushing the blankets away, I hopped off the bed and headed for the bathroom. 

“Stay at the park. I’ll be there in half and hour.” I clicked off the phone. There was no way in hell I was going to let her be alone on such a painful day. 

I wonder who died.

+++

Your Atmosphere. Chapter 4. Old Friend.

Sorry for the delayed update.

Subscribe. Comment. Upvote.