He soared without movement; the wind he could not feel whipped through his hair. Vibrant colors flew before his face. Slowly, the rhythmic chugging of the train eased into him like a second heartbeat.

Ryeowook felt stimulated to say the least.

With one hand pressed against the glass and a cheek pressed against the wall, the young male could feel each and every vibration of the train as it gained its steady speed. A steady buzz ran through his veins. As silly as it sounded, he felt one with the train.

Ryeowook turned to comment this to the man across from him only to realize there was no man. Panic froze him. What if he’d been imagined?

“Hello?” he called. No response.

Unnerved, he walked and peered out the door down the hallway. Tall windows lined the opposite wall, but other than the nice view there wasn’t much to see. No one was around. Ryeowook chewed his lip. Perhaps he could search for him. It wasn’t right for people to just disappear like that. All of a sudden, a door swung open down the hall, and several men walked out. One with a beak-like nose and cold gaze caught Ryeowook’s eye. His heart froze.

Or, he thought scurrying back into his room, I could just wait for the man to return.

Back outside the window, the view had transformed into a city sight. Shanghai, although unique in many ways, could look a lot like Incheon, South Korea. In fact, China’s fields of grey rectangular buildings were nearly identical to Korea’s fields of grey rectangular buildings. What a copycat.

Leaned up against the door, Ryeowook breathed to calm his pounding heart. The view outside did not interest him; nothing he hadn’t seen a thousand times before. That man though, that man looked like bad news.

Breathe, Ryeowook. Breathe. Ryeowook closed his eyes. The buzz returned.

When he opened them, the view was still the same. But, a new flash of red caught his eye. A flower. It stood by the window in a slender glass vase. He wasn’t sure how he’d missed it before. Curious, Ryeowook wandered towards it. The funny thing about this flower was that it looked really soft. Most fake flowers had that scratchy-fabric look about them, but this had a surface like silk. Could it be…?

“You’re real,” he gasped.

Without a second thought, he plucked it from its vase.

Of course the flower knew it was real, but Ryeowook had to touch every part of it to make sure. They never had real flowers at home. It was too much work according to the housekeeper. Besides, why would you want a scraggly real plant when you could have a perfect fake one? Well, Ryeowook had no idea. But he did know, he liked real flowers. What an impressive train company to place a live one in his room. He held the flower close to his face, directly examining its every part. So entranced in his investigation of the plant, he couldn’t even prepare himself for what came next.

One second he stood holding the flower; the next he was on the floor, heart racing. Black glass. Cold air. Here and gone in a flash. That sudden roar which had come with the darkness left his ears ringing and world rocking. Ryeowook panted, half-lying beside the table. What was that?

“Um, hi?”

Ryeowook startled. Confused and scared, hadn’t heard the cabin door open. From the doorway, the other man towered over him. “Are you okay?”

Was he okay? He wasn’t sure. “I am okay,” Ryeowook said regardless. His heart rate was returning to normal and the clattering which had surrounded him before faded away.

From the floor, the man looked even taller and lankier than before. He wore blue slacks and thick boxy glasses. His black hair stood up in a mess allowing his one raised eyebrow to show clearly at which point Ryeowook realized he was blocking the floor.

“Sorry.” Ryeowook scrambled up to let the other move in. But he cried out before the other could make it two steps in. The flower: it lay on the floor, half-crushed. The horror. With trembling fingers, he picked it up.

“Wait….” The other man did a double take. “Is that the flower from the table? How-?”

“I picked it up,” Ryeowook said regretfully. Oh no. He must’ve fallen on it during the blackout. No wonder you didn’t want real flowers. One of the petals had snapped off while the others were all bent up. He sniffled. What did he do?

“Hey, are you okay?” the other asked again.

Ryeowook nodded. He was. But the flower wasn’t.

“I broke the flower,” he said thickly.

The taller wasn’t sure what to say. This strange man was blocking the way to his bed. “…I’m sorry. I’m sure you didn’t do it on purpose.” When the smaller didn’t respond he continued, “You could probably just put it back in the vase. I don’t think anyone would notice.”

“Are you sure? Not even the train attendants?”

“Uh, no. Probably not.”

Abruptly, Ryeowook looked up at him. The taller startled at the intensity in his eyes. “How do you know?”

“Um…I…ahem.” Wow, did this guy have an accent. He quickly recomposed himself. “I know this because they replace the flowers every trip. At the end of this trip they’ll throw out this flower and replace it with a fresh one. It doesn’t matter that it…broke.”

His focus did not waver one bit. “So you’re saying the workers who take care of these flowers, they won’t care at all?”

“…Yeah. I don’t think people really take care of them – You know it’s just to look nice, right?” he said. “And from the right angle I still think it looks nice so, you know, what’s there to be upset about?”

The little man seemed to accept this as he lowered his gaze. Even better, he finally moved out of the way. Numbly, Ryeowook returned the bent flower to its vase. When they were back in their respective seats, Ryeowook spoke again. “That seems very wasteful.”

The taller sighed. “What does?”

“The flowers. The only serve one trip, and then they get thrown away? That is wasteful. Why do they not get a fake one instead?”

“Well, uh, fake flowers aren’t as nice. They don’t look as good. Most passengers don’t think about the wastefulness; only that it looks pretty. It’s like the free water.” He shook the half-empty bottle. “It helps build a good reputation, but at a cost.”

The smaller sighed. “That is sad.”

“For the flowers maybe. I’m just here reveling in my free filter water.”

Ryeowook smiled. It made his high cheekbones jump out.

“How do you know so much?” he asked.

“Standard business practices,” he said. “Plus, I travel on these trains a lot. You notice a thing or two.”

That fact fascinated Ryeowook. Before this trip, he had never travelled at all yet here was someone who couldn’t have been much older than him who had travelled a lot. Fascinated, Ryeowook stuck on to this slow train of conversation. He pressed hard, hoping for first-hand accounts of the stories he only experienced in books. This kind of creeped out the man at first, but one look at Ryeowook’s eager, overly innocent eyes, it was obvious he meant no harm.

Turns out, although the man didn’t have the adventurous lifestyle Ryeowook had hoped for, he did travel quite often. Being a research manager, he went anywhere and everywhere to present his findings. This trip though was for his brother’s wedding where he was the supposed best man. He got to give a speech and everything.

“I’m ninety percent sure he chose me only because our youngest brother got ran over in Beijing. Nothing too serious,” he added at the look of panic on Ryeowook’s face. “He just got in the way of some cyclists. You know how they can be.”

Ryeowook didn’t, but that was okay.

“Hey, so I’ve got to ask.” The other man leaned forward. “Where are you from?”

Ryeowook hesitated. He didn’t want the subject to change to him. If anything, his stories would bore the heck out of this interesting man, whose name by the way he still needed to figure out. Reluctantly, Ryeowook mumbled, “Republic of Korea.”

“Korea? You’re Korean? That explains so much!”

Ryeowook frowned. His parents had warned of racism in China. Was this it?  

As if reading his mind, the other man quickly backtracked. “No, no. I meant like, it explains your accent. It sounded so familiar to me because it’s basically a stronger version of the way my parents talk."

"You're confusing me."

"My parents immigrated here before I was born. They're ethnic Korean.”

This new information floored Ryeowook. Did this mean...his cabin mate was Korean? Could his luck be that good?

“My name’s Kyuhyun by the way.” He extended his hand.

It seemed it was. “Ryeowook.” He shook Kyuhyun’s timidly. The palm felt rough, but the grip was strong. Then, he flushed when he realized why Kyuhyun asked in the first place. “My Chinese is not good like you,” he mumbled.

The other man chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I was born here and you seem to know a lot. Where are you from in Korea anyway?” he asked in Chinese.

“Incheon.”

“Really? Not Seoul?”

"No?”

“Interesting,” Kyuhyun said. “So, are you here for vacation or a work?”

“Vacation?” Was it a vacation though? Escape would be the better word. What was ‘escape’ in Chinese?

Suddenly, Kyuhyun was bombarding him with questions, more than he could understand. It was a combination of the man’s confusing words and expectation for quick answers which sent his nerves running. While Ryeowook was good at asking and listening, answering was a whole other story.

“Wait!” he blurted. The other man stopped mid-sentence. “C-Can we go back to talking about you?”

Kyuhyun stared at him, startled by this strange request. Then he blinked and smiled. “Um, okay sure. If you…prefer that.”

Ryeowook nodded. He really did.

Unfortunately, it seemed fate was not on his side. Just as Ryeowook had begun to calm down, listening to the rich voice of the other man, they passed through yet another tunnel.

Black glass. Cold air. The roaring which echoed all around.

Don't you just hate when the person you're talking to dissolves into a puddle of fear and terror?

Friday: 1/2/15