Stalker
Someone is stalking Kyungsoo

It’s a cold spring morning and Kyungsoo’s on his way back from his morning jog, his headphones planted snuggly over his ears and a fresh warm glow on the tops of his cheeks. Something catches his eyes from the corner, a flash of a shadow, but it disappears when he turns his head towards it.

The same happens a couple days later, he’s at the supermarket when a figure bristles past him, the musky smell of aftershave and peppermint dwindling in the air.

And again, on the weekend, when he’s at the internet café, browsing through a website he catches a silhouette’s reflection on his screen and looks back to see a spiralling chair, but no one in the seat.

He didn’t think anything of it then,

So why would he think anything of it now in the middle of the night with his arms tied around his back and a body on top of him.

One week back in San Diego.

The door to Kyungsoo’s apartment opens with a jangle as the latter throws his keys on a table top, they clash against on the wood and Kyungsoo doesn’t think he can bear to hear another sound, rubbing his head with his forefingers.

It’s been a long day at the campus today, numbers and calculations jabbing at him from all corners, so much that he swears he can see formulas in the back of his eyes. He lets himself collapse on his bed, chest first and sighs into the pillow.

But then he remembers he’s got an exam in a couple of days and forces himself to get up and open his laptop.

He looks at the revision notes, eyes scarily blinking shut and shuts it.

There’s no way I’m doing this without pizza.

Kyungsoo quickly calls for a delivery and waits by flicking through the channels on his small 80’s television set – the only one he could afford on a student budget.

The doorbell rings and he gets up, swiping the dollar notes and some change from the counter before looking through his peephole.

There’s the top of a Carlos Pizzeria cap with the Italian flag stitched into it, but that’s pretty much all he can see. Something about this feels a little weird, but when do pizza delivery guys show their faces, they pretty much are a get their money and go type of people.

He quickly checks his change and opens the door.

The pizza box is shoved towards him, the cap facing down and a palm of a lightly tanned hand stretched out.

“That’s $10.50.”

The voice is deep, slightly raspy like the guy’s been coughing, but Kyungsoo is too focussed on making sure not to drop the change whilst also holding the pizza box to notice. The guy quickly shuffles the change on his hand to check and then is out of there faster than Kyungsoo could say thanks.

It’s not a big deal though, Kyungsoo’s already walking into his apartment, picking up a slice of pizza and taking a bite as he continues watching Jimmy Kimmel.

The next morning Kyungsoo is getting ready to have a quick shower as he pulls off his clammy white shirt and heads into the bathroom, hair a mess and eyes half lidded, the steam of the shower lets off a nice warmth that slowly wakes him up. Kyungsoo spreads out some paste on his toothbrush and opens the small hatch of a window to let the air go out.

Outside he sees a familiar logo on a small van parked up on the opposite street. The windows are out and it looks like there’s smoke coming out from the driver’s side.

He doesn’t look on though.

That would be weird.

So he spits out the toothpaste and rinses his mouth out before shuffling out of his night shorts and hopping into the shower.  

Kyungsoo makes his way out onto the street and towards a strip of shops across the street. He doesn’t know why but he looks behind him to see if the parked van is still there.

It’s still there but the windows have shut fully and the engine sounds like it’s been switched off.

He dismisses the thought, putting it down to his imagination and smiles to himself.

The computer shop is just a short walk away as Kyungsoo heads inside. He pulls out his USB stick and places it into one of the desktops, before selecting an assignment to print.

It’s a small, personal internet cafe with only three rows of seats.

There’s a figure sitting at the back with his head cast down staring at his fingers resting on the keyboard.

 “Hi Kyungsoo, is it the usual today?”

Kyungsoo turns around to see Suho, the owner of the store; a short dark haired man with round glasses and a buttoned up shirt. He’s a post-graduate who decided to open a small business for a little income whilst doing engineering on the side.  

 “Hey,” Kyungsoo says, smiling, “Yeah the usual,” he fishes out some coins from his pocket before slotting it into the machine and the printer sign pops up onto the screen.

“How’s it going? Your assignment?” Suho asks.

They catch up on the week, say goodbye and Kyungsoo heads towards the campus a couple blocks away.

The next few days sort of repeat themselves.

Kyungsoo’s up early either for class or to head to the city library, finding himself lost in the maze of aisle after aisle; book after book. Sometimes he’d take a break and wake up a little later, treating himself to a bubble tea at a small Asian café nearby, or scout through the city centre to find fresh vegetables at the market stall.

Today, he’s at the laundrette to collect his clothes, a warm tumble-dried mess spilling out of the machine and into his red chequered laundry bag.

The door chimes in the background as Kyungsoo looks closely into the machine head, searching for any lost socks. There’s a clanging of change and a soft utterance, ‘’, that follows.

“Excuse me,”

The voice sounds familiar.

“Hi,” Kyungsoo replies, brightly, his head rushing as he props up from the machine and faces the stranger.

“Hi. Can I borrow some change?” the stranger asks, rather forwardly.

“Um, yeah, sure,”

“Thanks.”

Kyungsoo hands over a couple of cents and the stranger slots it into his machine.

Said stranger keeps his eyes cast on the whirring of the washing machine as it starts up.

Then he leaves.

There’s little time to take in the strangers face or appearance, all Kyungsoo gets is the build; tall, slim, strong and something ominous. He notices a set of purpling bruises on his knuckles. But with any stranger Kyungsoo thinks nothing of it, and hauls the bag over his shoulder as he leaves the laundrette.

When Kyungsoo gets home it’s already eight, so he gets changed and dips into the curve of his sofa. The television squabbles in the background, stories from around the world, then the weather and then the local news. There are stories: a new electoral for city mayor, famous celebrity scandals, police brutality.

A body found at Mountain Lake Park.

The suspect not identified.

Kyungsoo ties his shoelaces, swipes his keys and heads out the door.

He waves and mouths a small ‘hi!’ to the girl living across him as he walks down the corridor. He stretches his arms in the elevator, but quickly throws his arms down when he sees the elevator doors opening.

A tall man walks in and turns his back to Kyungsoo. He gently presses the button for the ground floor and glances back over his shoulder. Kyungsoo catches a glimpse of the side of his face, strikingly good looking from the side with the light from the elevator spotlighting his sharp jawline, straight nose and curly brown hair.

But then the stranger turns away briskly towards the lift’s doors as they slide open.

Kyungsoo looks down at the man’s briefcase and his suit trousers. He wonders if the stranger will be going to a business meeting soon as he rushes out of the elevator.

He wonders what’s in his briefcase.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders if they are the same hands he saw yesterday at the launderette.

The music pulses through his earphones and into his veins as he feels his heart thump in his chest. The jog today was good he thinks, slowing down the pace to a walk as he takes a long gulp from his water bottle.

He takes his usual short cut, a little curve of a pathway through a little forestry, strolling through and taking in the clean air; a nice change from the city.

There’s not many people at the park this morning and Kyungsoo likes the quiet, peaceful calm it gives him.

But then something stirs, the sound of leaves crunching under a boot and Kyungsoo stills, his calm irrevocably disturbed. But then he looks down at his own feet and sees leaves under his trainers. He shrugs the matter off, putting the headphones back on his ears and continues walking down toward the park’s exit.

The noise of leaves crunching are deaf to him now and he still looks over his shoulder now and then, paranoia prickling under his skin.

Suddenly, whilst looking back, he sees a shadow between the trees.

He starts his jog again.

Not daring to look back.

Kyungsoo decides to leave his early morning jogs for a few days – he could do with the extra sleep. He looks in his cupboard and has no choice but to leave the house to go shopping.

When reaching the supermarket he pulls out his shopping list and picks up a basket. The offers are all so tempting, but with a limited budget, he goes for the non-brand noodles and juices.

He manages to tick off the majority of his list with essentials like fruit left.

A stall of fruits sits in the middle of the store rich in colours and soft smells.

Kyungsoo picks up a pack of four apples placing it at the bottom of his basket and goes to have a look at the other side. He feels something hovering behind him, a smell different to the apples, sort of like aftershave and peppermint gum.

For some reason he doesn’t turn back, walking ahead, brisk, as if to get out of the person’s way.

But as he turns in to the other side of the fruit stall, the person is gone from view.

Kyungsoo frowns to himself before picking up a pack of grapes and making his way to the tills, but just as he starts to move off, a figure brushes past him quickly.

Kyungsoo yells without thinking,

“Hey! Watch it!”

He grips hold to his swaying basket and watches the figure retreat from view. A black overcoat over a man’s body.

That same shade of brown hair.

Those sharp jawlines.

And that familiar trail of cologne and peppermint.

The weekend arrives and Kyungsoo is in the internet café asking Suho to proof read his thesis.

It’s a little busier today, mostly full of college students and teens playing computer games. Kyungsoo is in the second to last row this time with Suho, frowning as he watches Suho nit-pick at everything as he pushes his glasses up his nose every ten seconds.

“Are you just going to sit and criticise it, Suho?” Kyungsoo asks, albeit a little grumpily.

“You asked me to help you!”

“No. I asked you to proof read for grammatical errors.” Kyungsoo crosses his arms.

“Do you want me to help or not?”

Kyungsoo uncrosses his arms in defeat, “Yes.”

“Well, okay then, you’ve put too many commas in this paragraph…” Suho continues his blabbering and Kyungsoo can feel his brain ache.

He’s been in there for two hours, people come and going, but he’s been there, sitting on his seat and regretting ever asking Suho for help. His eyes wander to his blank desktop screen, the black a nice change from the lowly dimmed fuzz of white he’s used to when working on essays late at night. He notices a shadow on the screen, a figure of someone, someone different to those bustling around him. Someone static. Unmoving. Unnerved. He can’t really make it out and just as he slowly begins to recognise the shape-  

“Hey?”

Kyungsoo looks up at Suho, eyes still squinting from staring at the screen a second ago, he replies, ‘yeah, yeah I’m listening’, nodding at Suho as he looks back down at his papers, red circles littering the page thanks to Suho.

Thankfully Suho finishes soon and Kyungsoo is secretly glad he asked for help.

Suho gets up and leaves, heading towards a few kids whose computer froze (probably by playing too much cube-field or something) and Kyungsoo shoves his papers back into his bag.

Out of curiosity he turns around to see the figure from his screen, but all he sees is a moving chair, spiralling from the sudden motion of someone scarpering away from it.

But unlike before he doesn’t forget this coincidence.

Unlike before, he starts to remember this stranger.

The only person he tells is his best friend from high school, Byun Baekhyun, an old comrade who would spend his lunches with Kyungsoo on the rooftop of the school, throwing paper planes off the edge and eating ham sandwiches.

A part of him knows, that when Baekhyun tells him to start being more careful, he should listen.

But that part of him washes away when he’s in the shower wishing that his hands were the stranger’s – the mysterious man who has been stalking him – the myth. He lets the water trickle down , off the tip and down his thighs; wondering, curious…a fantasy.

Baekhyun calls him that night and Kyungsoo can tell the latter is checking up on him. He just laughs it off,

“What is he – a serial killer?” Kyungsoo laughs off, cynical, but the tone in Baekhyun’s voice is anything but.

“Haven’t you heard of the murder at Mountain Lake Park?” 

“Well, yes, but –”

“Exactly. You sure pick your timing,”

“What timing?” Kyungsoo says, a little hurt, obviously his best friend would figure out that he’s as obsessed with the stranger as the stranger is with him.

“You know what I mean.”

Kyungsoo can almost hear the look on Baekhyun’s face.  

Monday morning is bright through his half closed blinds and Kyungsoo is cursing his alarm clock. Despite the sun being out the air is bitter cold when he steps out of the building, so he’s glad he’s brought his scarf.

The walk to the campus is surprisingly short and he spares an odd glance here or there for the stranger he’s grown accustomed to over the week.

Sadly, there is no stolen glance or eerie shadow this morning. It is just simple roads and pavements leading him down a simple path; an easy, modest mundane life.

The campus is big, but not uninvitingly so; it has a comfortable gentleness to it, with green shrubs surrounding it and a park around the circumference. Kyungsoo is walking up the stairs to his lecture room.

The professor drones on for what feels like two hours and Kyungsoo is in between pre-sleep and post-dream mode when the teacher slams down his hand at his desk.

“Your parents don’t pay me to put you asleep!” He bellows and a few sniggers of laughter can be heard from the back.

Kyungsoo, now wide awake, nods in agreement and looks down reverently at his notepad.

The professor starts his lecture up again, occasionally glancing over at Kyungsoo, but ten minutes in he’s forgotten about the latter and focuses on drawing charts on the chalkboard.

The window is too tempting to look into and Kyungsoo is again, slipping into his dusty daydreaming repose, chin on his hand as he looks outside. Where is he? he thinks and he starts to wonder, if the man followed Kyungsoo to all those places, then why not here, at the campus? The thought alone is enough to keep Kyungsoo distracted and he’s stuck staring at blooming spring tulips in the shrubbery, wishing the colour in his life wasn’t draining away like shower water.  

After the lecture Kyungsoo finds he’s free for the day and makes his way back to his apartment.

He thinks about going in for a bubble tea, but instead, he changes his mind and decides to go for a walk.

He hasn’t been there for a while and he wonders if the flowers will be in full blossom there too.

Fifteen minutes in he finds rest at a bench and settles down. He pulls his scarf off and settles it on his lap, taking in the spring sunlight, leaning his head back.

It may have just been a premonition, but Kyungsoo feels someone looking at him so he quickly opens his eyes.

To his surprise there is someone sitting next to him on the bench eating the remnants of a sandwich from foil packaging. The man is wearing a dark overcoat; but what Kyungsoo sees – no – what Kyungsoo recognises, is the strong jawline, tanned skin and straight nose. The mop of unruly brown hair is a little less curly today.

The stranger looks at him and all Kyungsoo sees are his deep, hazel eyes. Dark and vast like the vacuum of space. Hypnotising.

“Would you like to share?” The man asks, almost recoiling at the question, scared Kyungsoo would run away.

“I. No, thank you.” Kyungsoo replies, uncertain of how to answer.

The question is a little odd, as if they’ve been friends for a while, rather than strangers meeting for the first time at a park bench.

“I’m sorry,” the man says, “Hello.”

“Have you been following me?” Kyungsoo asks, and in a similar way to the stranger, he finds himself startled to be able to ask something so direct.

“Yes.”

The answer is simple.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know whether to be scared or entranced.

“Why?”

The stranger pauses for a moment, pushing his sandwich back into the foil and letting it rest on the side next to him. Kyungsoo notes how the man does things with an acute sense of precision; the way he puts the sandwich down, how he looks at Kyungsoo with a light mar of a frown, how he speaks.

“You were interesting, so full of life, a splatter of paint on a blank wall.”

Kyungsoo has a ghost of a smile on his lips before asking.

He notes the stranger using the term ‘were’, his paranoia and Baekhyun’s words bristling at him as if he was walking through branches. 

“What’s your name?”

“Jongin.”

“I’m –”

“Kyungsoo. Yes. I know.”

Kyungsoo is propped up against the trunk of a tree, dizzy, mind heavy as if it were banged against a wall and eyes dangerously drowsy. He can feel an ache around his waist and chest, the numbness spreads out like splinters and he’s awoken with a taut rope between his lips. He tries to move his arms, but they are restricted, placed behind his back. He recognises the material – his scarf – wrapped in a tight double knot, keeping his wrists in place.

He looks around, the world feeling as if it were on stilts, his heart is thumping in his chest.

The world is dark around him, the skies navy, the trees a blur, surrounding him, suffocating him.

He tries to remember what happened.

(A/N: Italics are flashbacks).

“This is my apartment.”

“Oh, wow,” Kyungsoo stares at the high ceilings of Jongin’s studio flat.

They’ve spent the last three hours together, going for coffee and then a short walk around the city, talking. Kyungsoo tells him about his life, to which Jongin politely listens, but something about it tells Kyungsoo that Jongin probably knows all about him already.

He doesn’t find it weird that it doesn’t unnerve him.

Jongin tells him about his life.

He’s from New York; but wanting to run away from the hubbub there, he came to San Fransisco to escape. He's had a few jobs in the city, not being able to hold them down, and he doesn't tell Kyungsoo why. He says how he likes living somewhere he's not recognised. It's like he's invsible. A fox among the sheep.

Kyungsoo remembers now, facts clicking into place.

Somewhere he's not recognised.

Jongin smiles,

“You see, Kyungsoo, we are very much alike.”

“Really?” Kyungsoo asks, he’s smiling, a little giddy actually. It’s embarrassing how much Jongin makes him want to smile.

Jongin inches closer to Kyungsoo, his body a close hover away. He palms the latter’s cheek.

“We are both looking for a way out. An escape. I saw it the day I met you.”

Met me?

Kyungsoo shivers at the thought.

No.

It couldn’t have been.

“I’m going to tell you things you won’t remember, or you will remember and it will be too late. Don’t be afraid. Just listen.”

Kyungsoo stiffens.

He looks at the bruises on the back of Jongin’s hands.

“I’m not a good person. I’ve done things I regret. I was in a bad place. My partner, my love, he left me, ran away from me. It made me angry. Upset. I wanted him back.”

Kyungsoo thinks back to the news story.

“A body found at Mountain Lake Park.

The suspect not identified.

The body had belonged to a missing person who was kidnapped ten years ago. It is suspected he may have tried to escape his captivity prior to his murder.”

“I tried to persuade him to stay,”

“A young adult with severe lacerations across his torso,”

“But he wouldn’t listen to me.” Jongin looks as if he desperately needs to find something in Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“And blunt force trauma to his head.”

“That was when I lost everything in my life. I couldn’t go on any further.”

Kyungsoo hears footsteps crunching against the leaves, moving towards him.

“Kyungsoo, are you awake?”

It’s Jongin’s voice.

It’s laced with remorse.

With regret.

“I had to do something to end that pain.”

“Do you remember anything at all?”

Jongin’s nose is bleeding and there are cuts across his cheek. He’s limping.

Kyungsoo, scared, afraid, does what he can only think is right and shakes his head violently, screaming a muffled ‘No, I don’t! Let me go! Please! I won’t tell.’

Jongin kneels down and looks into his eyes, propping the latter’s chin up with his forefinger.

He nods lightly.

“You do.”

Kyungsoo stares at him, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

He wishes he listened to Baekhyun.

“I couldn’t bare the loss.”

Kyungsoo nods, he doesn’t know why he nods, but he does, as if he understands everything Jongin is saying.

Like he understands the feeling of betrayal.

“I loved him.”

“I loved you.”

And suddenly, in a charge of energy, Jongin is lining up a glock to the side of his head.

Kyungsoo closes his eyes at the sound of the shot, body jolting, springing, and aching to loosen the hold against him. The body falls on top of him, a mesh of skin and bones, a man he once remembered, a man he thought he knew.

A couple are running through the light forestry,

“Hey! Is everything alright?” The woman asks,

“We saw a pretty bust up car just there,” the man says, they inch closer and the woman shrieks.

“HELP!” Kyungsoo screams at the top of his lungs,

The man calls the police, checking Jongin’s pulse with two fingers.

“He’s dead.” The man says, voice shaky, with his wife behind him leaning against the tree in tears, shaking.

The police get there soon, boarding off the area and Kyungsoo can’t find the strength to speak.

Jongin’s body is covered with a white cloth and hauled away onto the ambulance.

Kyungsoo, lying there with his hands tied against his back.

Lacerations across his torso.

Blunt force trauma to his head.

Kyungsoo has been dead for a long time. 

Thank you for reading you wonderful creature, 
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it's like 2am here."

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