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It's been two weeks. Should you call him, now that two weeks have passed by? Just because someone told you that it's okay to call him, doesn't mean you should. Is he expecting it? You'd be more encouraged to call him - Yongguk, that is - if you knew that he's been waiting for a call from a stranger these past couple weeks; the problem is, you won't learn that fact until you actually dial his number and ask him.

But you want to see him again. That strange guy. He changed the redundancy you had grown accustomed to bypassing. Since then, you've looked at the city in a different way. The smells, the sights, the sounds - suddenly, everything is exhilarating. There are so many things to do, and so little time to do any of them. You've missed out. You've missed out, because you were bored, because you were tired, and only now you realize that's the most pitiful reason you could have ever come up with.

You want to do more with your time. You don't want to just stay alone in your house all day, listening to the deafening sound of silence as it echoes past the empty halls, accumulating in your room, suffocating you with its intangibility. But the thing is, you don't want to do it alone. You want to do it with him. That really strange guy.

You're in your bed with the rays of the sun peeking through the curtains. You rub your eyes and stretch, then grab your cellphone off the desk near you and turn it on. You stare at the atomic clock displayed on the screen, at the inbox that shows off nonexistent messages, and sigh. Your fingers hover over the keypad, sometimes half-inputting Yongguk's number (which you have now memorized) only to erase everything you've entered. Should you dial? Would he pick up? Oh, please let him pick up. It would be horrible if you called him, and he didn't pick up. Or even worse, if he picked up and didn't remember you. 

You groan. What are you doing? You're not going to get anywhere if you keep discouraging yourself like this. You just want somebody to give you an excuse not to call him. Then again, you want someone to give you a plausible reason to throw your worries aside. 

What are you going to lose by calling him? Nothing. Really, nothing. So why are you so hesitant? Why are you so afraid? 

Shutting off all the whispers that debate the subject in your head, you dial his number and bring your phone to your ear. The ring of a cellphone has never been so hopeful, or so ominous. It rings and rings and rings, and you think about hanging up, think about throwing that phone to the ground, think about all the excuses that would save you from this situation ... but then, he picks up.

"Hello?" He asks. 

He picked up. He picked up. He picked up.

"He - Hello," you stutter, attempting to clear your thoughts. "Hi. I'm sorry ... is this a bad time?"