January 04, 2015

A tall lean figure leaned back against the slanted roof of a house, giving a low relaxed groan with his hands behind his head. Whose roof he was resting on, the man had no idea. He closed his eyes, gave another meaningful sigh and peeked down at the scene below.

Squished among the crowd of men of various sizes, a petite girl wiggled her way through with a large white athlete bag in her arms. An expression of frustration evident on her face. The mass of people were gathered at the central park in the South to watch a performance by a renounced martial artist. What the girl was doing struggling in that crowd, that as well, the man had no idea.

"Chanyeol." With a creak of the roof, a shorter figure greeted the first. Scratching his temple and his neatly combed brown hair, he looked down at the commotion that had captivated Chanyeol's attention. "Her again? I can't believe you get paid to stalk some girl."

The man named Chanyeol grunted in response without taking his eyes off the said girl. Down near the crowd, when another stranger of size bumped into the girl, causing her to fall backwards, he furrowed his eyebrows as if he was the one who had been shoved. "It's called guarding, not stalking," Chanyeol finally responded, "and she's not just some girl. She's the daughter of one of the wealthiest bosses in the North."

"You don't know anything else about her?" The other party questioned, watching the girl below them as well.

"No..." Shaking his head subconsciously, Chanyeol eyes temporarily left his target's figure, distracted by another eyecatching girl wearing what seemed like a blonde wig. She was pretty. He shook his head once more to focus on his job and returned to tracking the daughter of the wealthy boss. "I don't know much other than the fact she keeps getting in trouble. It's a bother trying to help her without giving away my identity."

Now out away from the tight crowd, the girl swung the white bag onto her shoulder, accidentally smacking a very tan boy in the face with it. Instead of apologizing, the girl ran from the boy who seemed slightly dazed.

Chanyeol and his friend both flinched at the incident, and the friend mouthed a silent 'ouch.'

With an unnoticeable grimace on his face, Chanyeol . "Why are you here anyways?" He sounded slightly annoyed, being distracted from his work.

"Oh, right," The other held out his hands to calm Chanyeol before reaching into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone, and shoving the phone into the taller boy's face, "I got a strange text message last night."

"Hm. If it's another girl problem, talk to someone else." Continuously swatting away the device out of his face, Chanyeol was on the verge of punching the other boy.

"I don't think a girl would be texting me about the end of the world."

That obviously caught Chanyeol's interest because Chanyeol finally took his eyes off the girl and looked up at his friend for the first time since his arrival.

"Seems like it was from one of my previous clients, but I'm not sure." His friend explained, releasing a sigh of relief as Chanyeol gently took his cell phone and looked at it to read the message.

After a moment of cocking his head in confusion, Chanyeol handed the phone back to the other. "How can a genius private eye like you not remember your own cli--" Chanyeol froze before looking back down into the crowd and searching frantically with his eyes. "She's gone." He finally muttered, getting up from the roof. "Damn you, Baekhyun!"

The boy named Baekhyun, with his cell phone in his hand, watched as Chanyeol swiftly left him behind in search of his target. When his friend disappeared from his view, Baekhyun shrugged, putting his cell phone away, and left on his own way.

What they would face next day, the two boys had no idea. Neither did Chanyeol's target with the white athlete's bag, or the martist arts master who came to perform in the South that day, or the tan boy who was watching the performance, or even the mysterious girl with the blonde wig who was wandering the streets.

The people at the South were not the only ones who would be involved.

Whether he was a rich master peacefully catching up on literature in a large park in the East, whether she was a young medic from the Fin getting ready to head to the North where a dangerous Chinese 'trader' and a young handsome drug dealer was in the midst of an argument, or whether they were sibling tourists who had just entered from the West main entrance... nobody figured and could possibly imagine what chaos would insue within twenty-four hours.