Locked Out
The Battlefield of Cinderellahttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGNEpfXcaJ4&feature=related
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L. Joe zoomed up to your house. You hopped off the motorcycle and put it on his head. He blinked at you.
“Your driving is dangerous. I think you need a helmet.” You said.
L. Joe opened his mouth, “But my middle name is-“
“If your middle name is Dangerous then my middle name is Safety.” You crossed your arms to protect yourself from the cold, “Thanks for the ‘fun’. Good night.” You headed inside.
L. Joe softly smiled. He his engines and left. You patted your pockets *Shoot! I forgot the keys!* You bit your lip and rang on the doorbell. You expected your messy-haired step-family to come out and scream at your clumsiness.
But there was no response at all.
You knocked on the door and called out, “Hello? Stepmom? Kayoung? Nayoung?” Nothing. You kept ringing on the doorbell and knocking. There was no way they could sleep through this. *They’re doing this on purpose.* You stooped down by the gate and shivered. Your lips were turning blue from the cold. You were too frozen to let your tears out. *What do I do now?* You miserably thought.
Out of nowhere, you heard the engines of a motorcycle. *Another gang?* You grew alarmed. The motorcycle skidded to a stop in front of you and he pulled the helmet off his pink head. “Get on.” L. Joe flipped his hair.
Your eyes widened, “How-“
L. Joe pushed the helmet on your head, yanked you on behind him, and raced off. You silently rested your head on his back and held tightly onto him. L. Joe sped through the worst part of South Seoul. You looked around the dingy place. It looked like something in the movies where all the druggies and es lived.
L. Joe finally stopped in front of a run-down building. You got off and pulled the helmet off. You looked up in wonder, “Where are we?” “My house.” L. Joe said.
Your eyes widened, “What?” He led the way.
You glanced around and without a choice, followed him. The elevator, as usual, was broken. L. Joe climbed up the stairs and you followed him. Graffiti was everywhere. Burnt out cigarettes uselessly littered the dirty ground.
Finally, L. Joe stopped at one door. He pulled out his keys and opened the door. L. Joe nodded, “Come in.” You warily glanced at him. L. Joe smirked, “Nothing is going to bite you in there.” You bit your lip and went inside.
L. Joe turned the light on. His place was a mess. There was a messy bed with some coils of springs popping up. The kitchen was black as
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