I make my way to the comfort room and e-mail Soohyun from the Blackberry.

 

From: Yeo Hoonmin

Subject: You’ll Fit Right In

Date: June 10, 2012 17:36

To: Shin Soohyun

We are going to a bar called Fifty’s.

The rich seam of humor that I could mine from this is endless.

I look forward to seeing you there, Mr. Shin.

Bunny x

 

From: Shin Soohyun

Subject: Hazards

Date: June 10, 2012 17:38

To: Yeo Hoonmin

Mining is a very, very dangerous occupation.

 

From: Yeo Hoonmin

Subject: Hazards?

Date: June 10, 2012 17:40

To: Shin Soohyun

And your point is?

 

From: Shin Soohyun

Subject: Merely . . .

Date: June 10, 2012 17:42

To: Yeo Hoonmin

Making an observation, Mr. Yeo.

I’ll see you shortly.

Sooners rather than laters, baby..

 

I check myself in the mirror. What a difference a day can make. I have more color in my cheeks, and my eyes are shining. It’s the Shin Soohyun effect. A little e-mail sparring with him will do that to me. I grin at the mirror and straighten my pale blue shirt—the one Kibum bought me. I am wearing my favorite jeans today, too. As I head out of the building, I hear my name called.

 

“Mr. Yeo?”

 

I turn expectantly, and an ashen young man approaches me cautiously. He looks like a ghost—so pale and strangely blank.

 

“Mr. Yeo Hoonmin?” he repeats, and his features stay static even though he’s speaking.

 

“Yes?”

 

He stops, staring at me from about three feet away on the sidewalk, and I stare back, immobilized. Who is he? What does he want?

 

“Can I help you?” I ask. How does he know my name?

 

“No . . . I just wanted to look at you.” His voice is eerily soft. Like me, he has dark hair that starkly contrasts with his fair skin. His eyes are brown, like bourbon, but flat. There’s no life in them at all. His beautiful face is pale, and etched with sorrow.

 

“Sorry—you have me at a disadvantage,” I say politely, trying to ignore the warning tingle up my spine. On closer inspection, he looks odd, disheveled and uncared for. His clothes are two sizes too big, including his designer trench coat. He laughs a strange, discordant sound that only feeds my anxiety.

 

“What do you have that I don’t?” he asks sadly.

 

My anxiety turns to fear. “I’m sorry—who are you?”

 

“Me? I’m nobody.” He lifts his arm to drag his hand through his hair, and as he does, the sleeve of his trench coat rides up, revealing a soiled bandage around his wrist.

 

Holy .

 

“Good day, Mr. Yeo.” Turning, he walks up the street as I stand rooted to the spot. I watch as his slight frame disappears from view, lost amongst the workers pouring out of their various offices.

 

What was that about? [A/N: to give you an idea, just imagine JoKwon ^^]

 

Confused, I cross the street to the bar, trying to assimilate what has just happened, while my subconscious rears his ugly head and hisses at me—He has something to do with Soohyun.

 

Fifty’s is a cavernous, impersonal bar with baseball pennants and posters hanging on the wall. Jaeseop is at the bar with Dongho, Kevin the other commissioning editor, two girls from finance, and Eunkyung from reception. She is wearing her trademark silver star earrings.

 

“Hi, Hoon!” Jaeseop hands me a bottle of Bud.

 

“Cheers . . . thank you,” I murmur, still shaken by my encounter with Ghost Guy.

 

“Cheers.” We clink bottles, and he continues his conversation with Kevin. Eunkyung smiles sweetly at me.

 

“So, how has your first week been?” she asks.

 

“Good, thank you. Everyone seems very friendly.”

 

“You seem much happier today.”

 

I flush. “It’s Friday,” I mutter quickly. “So—have you any plans this weekend?”