JUN wakes up at two in the morning, thanks to banging on his front door. His hair is disheveled, his clothes are wrinkled, and his eyes can barely make out where he’s walking. Ming Hao on the other hand, stumbles out of his own bedroom and follows after Jun with a frown on his face and his batman onesie clinging to his body. The two make quick eye contact when they arrive at their front door. “You open it.” Ming Hao immediately mumbles as he pushes Jun closer to the door. The older doesn’t look happy as he glances back at the younger with a deadpanned look.

“Chicken.” He drones while sticking his tongue out; Ming Hao threateningly throws his fist toward him as Jun shuffles closer to the door. After peeking back at Ming Hao, he rips it open with little to no caution. What comes next surprises them both; to the point that Ming Hao lets out a yelp in fright. Mei, pale and freezing cold, falls directly onto Jun leaving him to wrap his arms around her in order to take quick control of the situation.

He gapes at her, his eyes broadening as he ends up kneeling on the ground with her lying tenderly in his hands. He circles one arm underneath her knees and the other cradling her neck. And while he’s struggling to keep composed, a sudden wave of nausea hits him as he tries to control his breathing. No words, absolutely nothing comes out of his mouth as he continues to stare down at her with Ming Hao scrutinizing with ceaseless eyes and a hammering heart.

Ming Hao leans down with him, his fingers directly seizing her wrist to feel for a pulse. Jun only stares, his eyes roaming around her face to see crisp tears trickling down her cheeks. Her lips are chapped, and besides her pale features she looks blue. His fingers brush away the tears only to feel a sudden encounter of coldness. Why is she so cold? “She’s still breathing.” Ming Hao states as he glances at Jun a rush of horror in the elder’s eyes. “She’s really cold.”

Jun doesn’t acknowledge Ming Hao. Not muttering a word. Not even looking at him. His mind can’t process this. What the hell happened to her? Why is she so cold? Who did this to her? And where the hell is that Charlie guy? Charlie should’ve been here to protect her! So why isn’t he? And why is she like this?

“Get a hot bath ready.” Jun mutters as he rises to his feet holding Mei in his arms and closely to his chest. His eyes collide with Ming Hao, and when he sees that the younger isn’t moving; it sets him off. His face turns a tint of red, and his teeth grind against each other. “Go!” He yells and almost instantly Ming Hao flies off into their bathroom. If there’s one thing he’s ascertained about things involving Jun with Mei—do as he says, and do it hastily.

Jun keeps his hold on Mei; as he waits with little to no patience for the bath. By now, a sudden rush of anger is hitting him and all he wants to do is find Charlie and beat the living out of him for letting this happen to her. “Jun!” Ming Hao calls; and Jun rapidly makes his way to him. Though she still has her sweater and jeans on, he positions her promptly into the bath tub with no delay. “What do we do?” The younger asks but abandons everything he’s doing when Jun up and climbs into the bath. “Dude.” Ming Hao mumbles as he views him spray the water on Mei, thoroughly dunking her body in the warmth of it.

Jun grabs her hands after a moment, taking it in his own and rubbing them gently. The two boys watch in apprehension as they wait for something, anything to happen. “Mei, come on.” Jun breathes as continues to try and warm her body.

“We should take her to the hospital.” Ming Hao states.

Jun shakes his head with a scoff, “And tell them what? That North Korean spies might’ve shoved her in a freezer to die and then, poof, she appeared at our apartment?” Ming Hao shuts up falling onto his while wrapping his arms around his knees. Jun continues what he’s doing, not sparing the younger a glance as he keeps his entire concentration on Mei.

“.” The two swear when Mei radically makes a move and binds her fingers sternly onto Jun’s dark colored jacket. Ming Hao turns toward the cupboard and fishes out towels as Jun stands up and tugs Mei out of the bath and onto the floor. He snaps the towels out of Ming Hao’s hands and wraps it around her himself before dragging her into his arms; pulling her as close as possible.

The two could hear her soft breaths now, and can actually see her chest heave up and down. It’s at this time that Ming Hao sees Jun cry, not crying to the point of making a sound. But his eyes turn a shade of red, and a few tears trail down his cheeks as he places his head against Mei’s. And he realizes that as he starring at Jun and Mei—he, himself, is crying. Because he also grasped that he might’ve just lost someone who’s more valuable to him than he discerned.

But, now, the only thing the two can think about: is what the hell happened?

o n e  d a y  e a r l i e r

MEI’S mind goes blank as something cold presses against the back of her head. A short clocking sound it heard as someone lies a hand on her right shoulder, their nails digging into her collar bone. Charlie puts up his hands, directly in front of him, in a stopping sign. Whoever is behind her, doesn’t make a move, instead they dig whatever they have further into Mei’s head. To that it begins to pulse, and she can swear that it’s a barrel of a loaded pistol.

Finally, the silence between the three of them, is cut by the words Charlie could only come up of in a minute. “General Roe,” Mei lets out a chortled gasp as the barrel of the pistol digs further into the back of her head. Charlie places his hands further in the air as he takes one step backward to show that’s he’s not being resistant. “You’re holding a gun against Lieutenant General Zhao’s daughter. So, why don’t you drop your weapon.”

General Roe, doesn’t drop his weapon, instead he twists Mei’s body toward him; she flinches at the view. A strong jaw line, deep chestnut eyes, and a shaved head. He looks quite old, fifty something at the most, and that makes since seeing as he’s probably been through a lot in his life. The man in front of her, looks human; which, shakes her to the bone. It’s like her parents, they look real, and yet, they’re monsters. The only sign of danger comes from the dark scar imprinted below his left eye and stretches from the corner of his nose to the edge of his cheek.

His facial features stay strict as he lets his eyes wander around her face. But, in a flash, his gun placed against her forehead; this time, much like the last, she doesn’t have the chance to flinch or even dodge him. He tilts his head to the side, “You’re a Zhao?”

“Y-yes.” She manages to stutter; seeing as she can’t nod her head.

The man, unsuspectingly, moves his arm over to wrap it around Mei’s neck, pulling her against his chest, and pointing the gun toward Charlie. “Whoa.” Charlie murmurs as he raises his hand further in the air. “Hey there, buddy, chill. We just have so—” A shrill scream echoes the room the minute a bullet is fired. It hits Charlie directly in the lower right abdomen and the scream comes from Mei who gets shoved to the floor soon after. She tries to drag herself toward Charlie who lies on the slick concrete floor his hand reaching out for her, a tinge of blood on the tips of his fingers from touching his wound. A pool of redness surrounds his lower torso as he crawls closer to Mei who’s trying her best to get to him—but, someone slams their foot on her back causing her to stop and scream at the agony of having their shoe dig into her lower back. She can only watch as two men, from behind him, make their way to Charlie; they pick him up by his ankles and drag him off—he screams the whole time, and chills Mei to the bone.

“The only way to know if you’re truly a Zhao, is if you can do what your father should’ve taught you.” And while tears stream down her face, and screams echo out through her body—she’s dragged, farther and farther down the warehouse until someone hits her over the head with a blunt and heavy object.

p r e s e n t  d a y

MEI wakes up with a mild-mannered jolt. Sweat drips down her body as her hands encircle the beige sheets as she struggles to pull herself into a sitting position. She looks around her surroundings, she spots the closet, the barred window to the right, and the bed she’s sat on—is hers. Hers, as in the bed she slept in when at Jun and Ming Hao’s. That bed. Her bed. She finds herself tearing up in wonder. How did she get here? When did she get here?

“Mei,” Comes a soft yet cautious voice. She knows it’s Jun—she’d know it’s him from a mile away. And when her eyes meet his, she begins to tear up. He stands in her door way, Ming Hao standing timidly behind him. The two of them stare back at her with worried eyes. “It’s okay.” Jun says as he takes a step further in the room—Ming Hao does so too but still keeps himself behind Jun. Mei shakes her head her blonde hair falling over her eyes, salty tears cascading down her cheeks—she doesn’t believe everything is okay.

Nervous and warry, Jun nears the bed and takes a seat near her legs. “Mei, does anything hurt?” She nods her head and watches as Jun gulps—his Adam’s apple bouncing up and down. With her pointer finger, she reaches up and places it against her chest—right where her heart is. She doesn’t miss a beat as a hand rises to —covering up her trembling lips. Her tears flee down her face even faster, as she produced more.

“I hurt so badly.” She murmurs as she uses her free hand to once again point at her heart before she clutches at her shirt which covers the spot. Both Jun and Ming Hao are not sure what she means—they know she’s not physically hurt, so that must mean that she was hurt emotionally besides being shoved in a freezer somewhere.

He reaches over and places the washcloth on her leg as he gulps once more. “Do you remember what happened?” He asks rather hesitantly. He doesn’t want to push her, and he doesn’t want her to freak or feel like she has to say anything if she doesn’t want to. He just, he wants to know, but at the same time—he wants her to tell him on her own time. Not because he pressured her.

She nods her head, “Everything.” Her voice comes out cold, as cold as she was earlier, a tinge of scarcity sits in her tone as well. She tries her hardest to keep her tears back; but both Jun and Ming Hao can see that that only hurts her more. “It’s really bad.” She murmurs as her fingers grip the sides of her pants—it’s worse than bad, it’s horrible. And, with a deep breath—she begins the story—Jun sat next to her, with Ming Hao now sat on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest.

o n e  d a y  e a r l i e r

MEI wakes up in a cold room, it’s too cold—to the point that she can’t feel her legs or arms. And she looks down, frizz blue pieces of ice cover the floor and her legs. She can’t identify what type of room she’s in, but it’s big at lease as big as a regular sized bedroom. A few wooden boxes surround the back, leaning up against the white frizzy walls. Above her is a metal ceiling, ice hanging from it. In front of her, is a dark silver door with a small square window. She’s basically inside a tightly sealed, extremely cold, giant metal box. She’s susceptible to hypothermia, frostbite, and low air supply. She maneuvers herself around to have her legs behind her, and uses her arms to drag herself toward the door.

When she finally gets there, she grabs a hold of the handle—obviously it’s locked—and pulls herself into a standing position. She’s wobbly, and has to hold onto both the handle and lean against the wooden boxes beside her. She screams the minute her eyes make out what’s on the other side of the door. Charlie. It’s Charlie. He’s strung up by rusty old chains that are wrapped around his ankles. The white shirt he was previously wearing was stripped off of him—now only the wound is present on her body. The bullet wound is oval and rather large, is dark blood runs down from it, over his face, into his hair, to land in a puddle below him. “Charlie.” She murmurs as her fingernails claw at the window. She screams out his name, over and over again, as she continues to scratch at the window. She scratches so hard at it, that her fingernails bend back and blood seeps out of them like crazy.

She’s screaming so loud that begins to dry out and feels like cuts are forming inside. The only words repeating from , “Please don’t die!” She ends up stopping at some point—she’s not sure when. A few minutes, maybe an hour later. Mei slumps against the door, her knees pulled to her chest. She barely has any energy—from the freezing room to her screaming and clawing; she wasted it all. “I’m going to die here.” She murmurs to herself; she wants to cry, but she can’t. Maybe she cried all the tears she could shed.

She doesn’t want to think right now; because, when she does all she can do is wonder what Jun and Ming Hao are doing. Or what Jing Jing will think when she can’t find her best friend whose body will be in a freezer. Or what Bella and Luca will do without her—Bella will blame herself, and Luca will stress out because that’s what he does. Will they miss her? God knows she’ll miss all of them. She remembers that stupid question she asked Won Woo and Seok Min. How do you know if you could like someone? She’s developed past that; she loves all of them. She loves her best friend, and her fiancé; she loves Bella, Luca and their unborn child; she loves childish Ming Hao and yeah, she loves Jun. She’s going to die here, she knows that. And if she could have one last wish: she’d wish that she could tell them all how much she loves them.

“Zhao’s daughter, why the long face?” A slithery voice calls from the thin speakers above her. Mei, with the little energy she has left, throws a middle finger into the air—hoping that if there’s camera’s in the room, that that will be able to see her. “If you want you and your friend to survive, then you’ll figure a way out of here—like your father should’ve taught you.” The man repeats that statement again, father should’ve taught her? Her father taught her to be afraid and never talk back—to fear him with every bone in her body. That’s what her father taught her. “You’ve got an hour before your friend bleeds out to death. It’s below forty-five degrees in there, your core temperature is falling—hypothermia will hit soon.” The minute the man stops talking, the sprinklers above her go off, raining down on her.

She knows for a fact, that if she stays any longer in this room—she really will die. Especially because of the water hitting her, and the room getting colder and colder, like never before. So, she begs herself to figure out a way to get out of here. What the hell did her father teach her? With a slight sigh, she tries to remember—looking back at old memories, awful memories. But, one sticks out.

She was seven, maybe eight, and she sits atop the counter with her back sat against the wall in some dingy cafeteria kitchen. Her father stands in front of her, a stern look on his withered face. He murmurs something to himself, before his gaze snaps up toward Mei—small little Mei.

“I hate you,” He says as he holds something sharp in his hand. Mei doesn’t react only blinks a couple times in return. “But I have to teach you; you’ll die if I don’t.” He flings his thumb behind him to the gray door leading to the freezer. “How do you get out of that?” He questions.

Mei shrugs her shoulders a tinge of worry in her voice, “Open the door?”

Her father’s eyes snap back toward her, “Wrong.” He slides the sharp object out of his hand, having it go flying toward Mei—it skids by her ear, nicking it in the process, and hitting the wall behind her. She doesn’t jump, nor does she freak out—this, is normal. “First, look for a moisture proof case on the back wall—inside will be a switch, turn it off, it will cut the wind chill; giving you a longer time to live. There will be a copper pipe inside—it’s the condenser—do not, under any circumstances, touch it. If you do, poisonous gas will leak out and you will die.”

“What’s next?” He grunts, turning to look back at her.

Mei wraps her arms around her knees, “I’m not sure, papa.”

The man, in return, flings another sharp object toward her—this time it skins the side of her leg, the skin peeling off. “Wrong.” He turns back toward the freezer and runs his fingers along the door. “The inside handle, is a push like lever, if it’s not locked from the outside with a dead bolt (and it won’t be because the man’s not smart enough), then you’d be able to kick the door open. But, the room is below zero, most likely, there will be water sprinkling on you—you’ll have been in there for an hour, maybe two, it’ll take a lot of energy to kick it open. So you need to get yourself heat; how do you do that?”

This time, Mei doesn’t even say anything, and her father merely throws the sharp object at her—hitting directly above her head, taking some hair with it. “There’s going to be a plastic curtain somewhere hanging, rip it off, and wrap it around yourself. It’ll keep your body temperature where it’s at when you put it on.” He takes a deep breath, and for the hell of it throws another sharp object at her, hitting her near the abdomen, ripping her shirt. “Air is another problem, you’ll be in a twenty by ten by eight feet freezer, completely sealed; meaning you’ll have sixteen hundred cubic feet of air to breathe—the air is twenty percent oxygen and nearly zero percent carbon dioxide.”

He takes a deep breath, calculating something, before continuing. “You’ll release carbon dioxide every time you breath in oxygen. You inhale air that’s twenty percent oxygen and zero percent carbon dioxide’ and exhale air that’s about fifteen percent oxygen and five percent carbon dioxide. A person at best, breathes about twenty-eight-hundred cubic feet of air per day. A person needs about one-hundred and fifty cubic feet of pure oxygen per day. There’s three hundred and twenty cubic feet of pure oxygen in the freezer. You’ll be okay with oxygen concentrations down to ten percent or so, that means there’s enough oxygen to last for about a full day in that freezer of that size. As long as you don’t run or jump or move.”

Her father takes another deep breath as Mei sits there quite confused. Her young brain can’t comprehend the information she’s telling him. And she doesn’t know why she has to learn this. “Once the concentration of carbon dioxide in the air gets above five percent, it’s fatal. At two percent, your breathing rate will increase significantly and weakness will set in. In a freezer of that size, too much carbon dioxide is a bigger problem than too little oxygen. After six hours, you’ll begin to feel the effects of carbon dioxide poisoning.”

He finally turns back toward Mei and lets out a sigh, “If you have enough energy before all of that, and you manage to kick your way out—you’ll be flushed, weak, dizzy, and disoriented. You’ll be suffering from mild hypothermia, so your speech will be slow, and you won’t be able to control your hands. You’ll need to be treated for this; but, you can’t go to the hospital. If, and when, that man lets you go—you find some trustworthy and ask them for help. Later, you’ll be contacted by him again—if you survived.”

Mei blinks, a few times over. She remembers that day; when they finally went home her mother locked Mei away in the closet, her wounds bleeding, and she wasn’t let out until the Monday of next week in order to go to school.  She hated that day. She remembers feeling unjust in that situation; she didn’t know why she was hurt or locked away; she didn’t know why her father said all those things or teach her about how to get out of a freezer. It was ridiculous. Now, that doesn’t seem as true.

She steadily rises to her feet, and makes her way to the back wall. True enough, a large clear casing in the left hand side, at eye live, is there. She grabs a hold of it and lifts it up. One copper pipe, a few wires, and a light switch. She quickly turns it off—and soon enough the fans stop, and wind cuts off. With a deep breath she finds her way to the plastic curtain hanging in the middle of the room. She wraps her fingers around it, and pulls as hard as she can. She falls to the floor with a bang, the curtain falling over her. She moans at the exhilarating pain running through her body.

Mei manages to do as her father said, and stands up wrapping the curtain around her. It vaguely gave her warmth—just enough for her to savor it. And, when she thinks she’s ready, she picks her foot up and slams it into the lever of the door—effectively opening it. Before she can catch herself she falls to the floor—breathing heavily with all of the symptoms that her father listed—Charlie hanging right above her, small breaths leaving his mouth. “Charlie.” She murmurs as she reaches out her hand towards him, only to have it land in the blood—her arm soaked in it.

She hears the sounds of heavy footsteps; one after another, until they stop by her side. General Roe being one of them. “You are indeed Zhao’s daughter—using his exact technique,” She sees a smirk appear on his lips as he looks back at two other men behind him who are tainted in dark clothes. “Take him down, drop him off at the nearest hospital.” The men nod before doing as said. General Roe looks back at Mei, squatting down next to her. “We’ll leave your information with your friend; and you and I, we’ll be in contact real soon.” His slick hand reaches up; his fingers running through her hair before he gets up and leaves—his man following in tow with Charlie being pulled by his ankles.

Mei doesn’t remember what happens next. She can’t remember where that freezer was. And she can’t remember how she got to Jun and Ming Hao’s.

p r e s e n t  d a y

JUN and Ming Hao stayed silent through the whole re-telling. There were instances where Ming Hao felt like throwing up just from hearing the story, and a good amount of times when both grimaced. Half-way through Jun grabbed Mei’s hand and began squeezing it every time something went wrong. And when she was done, she looked exhausted—so they told her to sleep, while they figured things out. They left the room after she closed her eyes and “fell asleep”—what they don’t know, is that she managed to crawl her way to the door and place her ear up against it; in enabling her to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Ming Hao is the first to talk, “What do we do?”

An audible sigh leaves Jun’s mouth before he answers, “She needs to stay here now; she’s messed up, we shouldn’t have let her leave. And, we need to figure out which hospital Charlie is in, I know she’ll want to see him. So, let’s start calling the nearest ones. There’s no way she could’ve travelled miles to get here.” There’s a short period in which there’s no talking, it’s probably just Ming Hao figuring things out instead of voicing it.

“I agree.” Ming Hao murmurs; before they shuffle off, far away from her door. She lets out a deep sigh, one that means a lot to her, for the first time in a long time—she feels like she’s able to breath. She leans her head against the dresser next to the door, pulls her knees to her chest, and sleeps.