Unlike your dream, it was a walk-in closet. That’s a good sign. Eli flicked on the light, and the deep closet brightened instantly. This time the emotions between you and Eli were switched. Eli looked frustrated and you looked relieved because it wasn’t anything like your dream. It had two rows of shelves along each side that held an assortment of men’s dress shirts, an old stringy looking blanket, a couple little black books, about 20 boxes of soap, more soju and ramen, and not one creepy clown in sight. You, being the fashion designer that you were, went straight to the shirts.

“Whoa! These are sooooo nice.” You put down the knife next to the blanket so that you could pull out one of the shirts and rub it against your cheek. “Mmmm, so soft.” You smiled.

“What are these?” Eli wondered aloud moving past you to get to the books. “It looks kind of like a diary,” Eli said while fanning through the pages. You picked up one of the other books and skimmed through it.

“Bummer. Its all in Korean,” you frowned.

“You don’t know Korean yet?” Eli questioned.

“I know enough to speak it pretty well, but I cant read it to save my life. Well… that’s not completely true. I know a few words.”

“Hmm… I’m not that fantastic either, but there might be something about a way out in here. I’ll try my best,” he said.

“You can do it! Eli Fighting!!” you shouted with the corresponding fist pump. You were hoping that it would look cute and encourage Eli, but you couldn’t really pull it off with your all-American features. It made Eli laugh.

“Wow. Okay. Don’t do that again,” Eli smiled at you and sat on the bed attempting to read the chicken scratches in the first diary.

“Well while you do that, I’ll call Kevin and tell him about our little predicament. Can I barrow your phone?”

“Uh mines dead. Sorry.”

“Whoa whoa whoa… your phone is dead? Do you have any other way of communicating with anyone?” you said with wide eyes.

“Uh…  no? Why can’t you use your phone?” he said looking up from his book mirroring your expression.

“I left mine at home,” you began to furiously dig through your purse. There was no phone but there was… “My itouch!” You ripped it out of your purse. “Maybe I can like, use Facebook or something. But I even have the charger! Oh thank goodness… What’s the Wi-Fi code here?”

“Uh…” Eli shifted his eyes to the floor.

“Oh god. Please tell me you know what the password is.”

“I wrote it down in my phone… but like I said, it’s dead.”

            “Well, uh…” you started to shake getting even more panicked. “You have an iPhone right? It should be able to plug into my charger,” you said becoming extremely desperate.

            “No. Darn it. I left my iPhone in the practice room. I only have my Blackberry with me,” Eli said throwing the book down on the bed out of frustration. He began to rub his temples and pace back and forth. We’re really done for now. We have no way of communication. Even Eli is getting upset. Oh my gosh what do I do? You had picked up your jacket and were now clutching on to it so tight that your knuckles were turning white, and you were beginning to shake. Eli realized this so he went into the closet and tossed you a bottle of Soju.

            “Drink this. It will take the edge off,” he said as he turned to grab some shot glasses. You looked at the bottle dumbly. You had never drunk any kind of alcohol before. You were only nineteen and had been a good kid growing up; declining drinks at parties and such.

            “Here,” Eli grabbed the bottle realizing your ignorance. He twisted the cap off expertly, pored a decent amount in one of the glasses and held it up to your lips. “Drink.”

            Cautiously, you took a small sip as Eli angled the glass to your mouth. You swallowed, liking the sweet taste but soon felt the burning sensation down your throat. It felt as though you had been slapped in the face. You immediately started to cough and sputter while Eli stood by, chuckling at you.

            “That’s what I did when I had my first drink of Soju,” he mused. “Except it was in the Directors face…” You forced a giggle. You knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but you were too freaked out to be telling funny stories.

            “Drink up. You seem like you’re about to have a panic attack. Don’t worry. I’m not going to take advantage of you or anything. I doubt you would get that drunk anyways, but you really need to just relax. Having you freaked out will not help me come up with a way to get out of here.”

            You knew that someone like Eli would never take advantage of you. That idea hadn’t even popped into your head until he said that. The only real hang up you had on drinking it was that you had never done it before. You were not sure how you would react. The new experience kind of frightened you but on the same token – it excited you.

            You took another sip. It felt like only a slight slap this time. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. You plopped down in the small space between the bathroom and the closet, clutching your purse to your person as though it was a security blanket, and continued to sample the new drink from the shot glass.

            “Hey, can I see that charger?” Eli asked poring a shot for himself. You searched your bag for the charger and handed it to Eli.

            “What are you thinking?” you asked him.

            He sat down in front of you, tossed shot of soju in his mouth, and then explained. “I’m trying to think of a way to reroute this so that it can charge my phone,” he said pulling the plastic safety covering off. He looked back and forth between the phone and the charger for several minutes before he began to gingerly disassemble the charger. “You wouldn’t happen to have a tweezer would you?”

            “Of course. Any seamstress wouldn’t be caught dead with out string, scissors, a couple buttons, and a tweezer,” you said as you dug through your gigantic purse for your sewing kit. You pulled it out and gave it to him.

            “Thanks,” he said as he pulled the tweezers out of the kit. “My fingers are too big for this little thing.” You chuckled and pored yourself your second tumbler full. You began to feel a little dizzy and started to giggle. “Uh, are you ok?” Eli looked at you holding back a chuckle.

            “Psh yeah I’m fine.” You waved your hand and smiled to assure Eli that you were fine. Suddenly the smile disappeared from your face. “You know who else had big fingers? My ex-boyfriend, Justin.” You stopped for a second to chug the second shot.

            “Oh no… I bet you talk a lot when you’re drunk,” Eli realized still attempting to focus on the charger.

            “I’m not drunk!” you protested. “ But anyway, his fingers were so big and so soft.” You continued as you rubbed the back of your hand against your cheek. “I still remember what it felt like to have his hand on my cheek,” you sighed. “It was so nice… When he touched me softly that is…”

            “Uh, ok that might be a little too much information,” Eli said as his eyes widened obviously thinking dirty thoughts.

            “His hands didn’t feel so soft when he would hit me though.” You paused to take your third shot of Soju.

            “Wait. What? He would hit you?” Eli stopped pulling apart your charger to give you his full attention and seemed very concerned.  You, on the other hand, acted as though you had just made a simple comment about the weather.  You began to poor your fourth shot but missed the tumbler and a small splash of the liquor fell on to the stone floor. It somehow struck you as funny, and you began to laugh.

“Only if I did something bad,” you said between snorts of laughter.

“Something bad? Like what? What could be bad enough for someone to hit you!?” He asked with disbelief.

“You know… If I wore something he didn’t like or did something he didn’t like or I don’t know… sometimes he just got angry.” You swigged back your fourth shot and hurriedly started poring the next.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eli took the bottle and glass away from you. You pouted and reached back for them but he pushed your hands away. “You’re getting too drunk. You really need to slow down. You’re not supposed to drink it this fast.”

“I can drink it however I want!” you yelled at him. Because he was slightly shocked from you yelling at him, you were easily able to grab the bottle from him. You pulled it to your lips, took a few quick gulps, and threw the empty bottle on the ground. You didn’t have time to be shocked by your own actions before you felt your body getting really heavy. Even though you were sitting, the top half of your body still managed to fall onto Eli’s lap. You began to cry.

“Whoa! Hey! Don’t cry! I’m not mad.” He attempted to console you by petting your head.

You looked up at him through teary eyes. “I still have scares.”

“Scares? He hit you hard enough to give you scares!?” Eli looked livid. “Where?!” He asked grabbing your chin to examine your face. You knocked his hand away and began to lift your shirt. Once he realized that the scares were somewhere under your shirt he immediately stopped you. “Just, uh, point to them over your shirt.” He said, face turning a bit red. You pointed along your sides and your inner thighs.

“I guess that’s why I never drank alcohol before,” you attempted to justify.

“What? You’re skipping around too much. You’re not making since,” Eli said as he your shoulder.  You were bent over again, head on his knee.

“He was an angry drunk, I guess. Some nights he would come over to my house really late and just hit me. I don’t know why… I guess that’s why I’ve never drunk anything before… I don’t want to be like him – Oh God, I’m going to throw up.” You leaned into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. Eli held your hair out of your face and grabbed some toilet paper for you to wipe your mouth with. Once you had finished, Eli reached for your hand so he could lead you to the bed.

“Just sleep it off,” he said as he took your shoes off for you and pulled the comforter up to your shoulders. “You will feel better when you wake up.” He brushed the hair out of your face as your heavy eyelids began to close.