Yo,

     Kyung told me to write this so that my rap flows will follow suit to this sort of theme, like imagine having kids and a wife and a house. Honestly, I am the leader and he’s ordering me around. ing cucumber. So hi, this is your father and I wonder where you guys are now, are you in heaven? Please tell God to give me some inspiration for new songs because lately I am experiencing a sort of mental breakdown. 

It was the morning of February 10th 2014 and the rain was falling heavily. 

I decided that it was a sleep in and skip school day. You might find it quite amusing that I plan my day around the weather at the moment I get up from bed, but whatever, you don’t even exist yet. My day to day life became a routine and I got bored of everything very quickly. Well until today I guess. Today I met an extremely eccentric, to put it nicely, person. Which is why I find today the most appropriate day to start writing in this irritating Hello Kitty book Jihoon bought for me as a joke. I used to like Hello Kitty, don’t ask why.

Well, I got out of bed at noon and looked at the time, snickering to myself as I thought about all my classmates dying slowly in class. This would have been the thirteenth day that I skipped school without reason. I just didn’t feel like going to school, I didn’t necessarily like rooms filled with stubborn youths blindly following non-existent rules and empty promises of a better future. Going to school suffocates me. I wasn’t surprised, the school’s chairperson called me countless of times threatening to kick me out of school if I kept this up. But, being the absolutely charming and charismatic guy that I am, I managed to win her over and pretend to be sick. Life’s good when you’re famous you know, that’s just how the world works. And as much as I enjoy it, I hate it with a strong passion. Being famous.

I got and got into the shower so I can think of a new song but just as I thought, my mind was as blank as a sheet. The cold water ran down my back as I rested my forehead on the wall, I just felt this great big emptiness in me for no reason. It’s not heartache about love or anything, just emptiness. A huge nothing growing inside. A hollow, empty, black hole. My heart faded into black, I don’t know why I’m like this these days. The boys say it’s because I’ve been alone for too long but that’s no excuse for me to feel this way. There were so many other things to do other than plain old falling in love. I had no reason to feel like this. Suddenly I hear a loud crash, like glass shattering, from outside. My heart was in my throat and my body was shaking. I was a dead man. 

I chanted a prayer over and over again, begging the Lord to not take my life away on such short notice. I mean, I have so much more to do in life and dying in the shower wouldn’t look gangsta in the newspapers. I took a deep breath and got out of the shower. The intruder didn’t make any other sounds so I slowly put on my slacks and wife-beater. Quietly, I got out of my bedroom. When I first entered my living room, I saw the shattered glass on my floor in front of my now windowless wall. A strong breeze blew in and gave a sort of supernatural effect with my white curtains. I picked up one of my potted plants and planned my attack. I was going to smash the trespasser's head in with that plant and make mother Earth proud. 

“What the hell are you up to.”

I almost dropped my plant as I suppressed a feminine scream in my throat. I turn and see a tall girl with long and dark hair staring at me with an amused expression. She wore a black leather jacket over a grey t-shirt with dark pants and blue sneakers. Her eyes were a deep brown, her eyebrows were thick and untamed, her lips were sickly pale and she had a weird looking nose, unlike the girls I usually see here. I knew she wasn’t just any other girl, this girl is different. The faint acne scars on her pale face showed her lack of interest in looking good for others’ sake. She looked like the type of girl who didn’t care about what others thought about her. She looked like my kind of girl. She chewed loudly, on what I guessed  was gum, and tucked her black helmet under her arm as she removed her leather gloves from her hands.

“Ah! The illusion is shattered.” she says as she stuffs the gloves in her pocket. 

“What illusion?” I asked as I held my plant closely.

“The illusion of Block B’s charismatic leader, Zee-Ah-Co.” she comes closer and walks circles around me. “I must say, I am disappointed, I expected you to be, you know, something. But aside from the nose, there’s nothing really special about you. Woo Jiho I am disappointed in you.”

She pulls out a pair of black framed glasses from her pocket and places them on the bridge of her weird nose.

“I am sorry about the window, but I heard that it was basic courtesy to open the door when someone knocks.” her apology sounded painfully unapologetic but her eyes behind the black framed glasses told me otherwise.

“But you didn’t knock?” I answered.

“Uh, yes I did.”

I watched as she pushed her glasses up with the middle finger on her left hand and noticed how insanely intimidating she was. She was terrifyingly tall for a girl and had a strong built. Her arms looked firm through her leather jacket, her shoulders were weirdly narrow and her feet were small but wide.

“Are you a fan?” I asked in a shaky voice, submitting to my fear of her blank gaze.

“I was sent to get you.” she didn’t answer my question which scared me.

Even the way she spoke was uncanny. Never have I met anyone who spoke that way.

“Mr Eric sent me.” she then said.

“So you’re from my school?” I ask.

Again, she doesn’t answer but looks around my house instead. Eyeing my framed pictures and my CD collection without touching them. Mr Eric was my fine arts lecturer, I knew him well and we often go out for drinks. He knew my reason for not attending classes so for him to send a scary girl to come get me would mean something was up. But she didn’t look familiar at all, she must have not been from my class. Why would Mr Eric send her then? I was very confused. 

“Are you from my major?” I ask, putting my potted plant down on my kitchen counter. 

“Well, I’m going.” she says, looking at her watch that looked familiar. 

She noticed me eyeing her watch and quickly pulls down her sleeve. Weird, I thought. She looks at me, with an expression that says she wants to know what I am thinking about. I explained to her that my car was being repaired at the workshop and my boss would get mad if I got on a taxi alone without my manager. She breathed out a deep sigh and shoved her black helmet into my arms. She walked out of my house without uttering a word. I heard the revving of what sounded like a huge motorcycle from outside and I feared for my life. The girl didn’t even give me time to change! I stripped out off my slacks and put on a pair of jeans and wore a green and blue checked shirt over my wife-beater. I grabbed a black beanie and snugged it on my head, because I didn’t have the time to do my hair, as I rushed out of my front door with a pair black vans in my left hand and the helmet in my right. 

The girl was on a big black bike, that was far from being any less intimidating, with one foot on the ground. As soon as she sees me, she pulls her long dark hair into a neat and tight ponytail before stuffing her ears with headphones. I wondered what type of music she listens to. She puts on a silver helmet as she revs up her bike again. I put the black helmet on and pick her scent up immediately. It’s in the middle of winter and she smelled of fruits and summer. Weird, I thought again. I got on her bike and wrapped my arms around her expectedly firm lower torso as I noticed red scratch marks on her nape. They looked as if they were done on purpose, by someone else. She swats my hands away from her body and turns to glare at me. I swear, this girl just radiates weird from every single thing she does. But it’s no denying that she could probably scare off a serial killer with her eyes as well. I wonder who would hurt her like that. 

I held onto the back of her bike for dear life as she zoomed through alleys and narrow streets that I never knew existed in my neighbourhood. She was going as fast as Valentino Rossi on MotorGP. People eyed us closely on the streets because we did look weird, a woman riding her bike at full speed while a man sat behind her, screaming for dear life. I was sure to be recognised if it wasn’t for the dark helmet I was using, thankfully. We stop inside the school’s parking and she parks in the teacher’s lot. I get