FOURTH

“Yes, hello? This is Nam Taehyun.” Taehyun nervously shuffled from one side of his room to the other, his eyes constantly shifting from the floor to the book on his desk.

“Ah, this is about the book,” a worn-out voice answered. “I’m sorry young man, but no refunds.”

“No, no!” Taehyun shook both his head and his free hand. “I don’t want my money back.”

“Oh.” The man sounded genuinely surprised. “Then what are you contacting me for?”

He bit his lip. “Actually…” His gaze trailed yet again to the book. “I’ve been wondering about the previous owner.”

A hesitant cough greeted his ears. “So this is about the writings and drawings and such.”

Taehyun swallowed hard. “Yes.” He felt a shiver run over his spine, not the bad kind, but the good kind; the kind that comes with excitement.

He seriously hoped the vendor would help him find Seungyoon. At this point there was nothing Taehyun wanted more than to at least talk to him.

Once he had stumbled upon a rather dark, grey drawing, he had decided to pick up the phone. It wasn’t just because it had made him more worried, but also because it had made him more curious.

Seungyoon had pressed a pencil down the paper hard, drawing a tall but thin tree. There weren’t any roots, and it seemed as if the tree was dying. A little further down the page there was a—Taehyun didn’t know what else to call it other than a monster—with spikes for hair. The creature didn’t have a nose, or a mouth. He did have huge eyes, blankly staring off into space. It also had two exceptionally large ears, unadorned by earrings. Other than the face, which was already missing pieces, he had drawn a body as well. No hands, however, and no feet. The rest of the page was filled with dots, dots, and dots, making the drawing dull, and eerie looking.

“Well, I can’t tell you that much,” the man sighed. Taehyun imagined him scratching his hair whilst frowning. “I think I bought it at a garage sale or something.”

Taehyun’s ears pricked up. “Garage sale? Where?” He felt his heart racing uncontrollably in his chest.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Let me look if I wrote that down somewhere. I go to so many garage sales and flea markets you see, so they tend to get a bit jumbled up in my head. I’ve been doing that for years and years. Take this as a hint, young man, the best treasures are hidden in those places!”

This time it was Taehyun who hummed. He didn’t need this useless talking; he just needed the address. “So you’ll call me back when you found it? Or should I call you back in a little while?” He urged, no longer willing to stay on the phone for unnecessary blabbering. He had better things to do. Read, for example.

He then heard a crashing noise followed by an entire string of profanities. “I’ll call you back,” the man half sighed, half grunted. “That is if I find it.”

“If?” Taehyun nearly raised his voice in utmost terror.

But then the line went dead and there he was, listening to the monotone beeping sound. A surge of inexplicable anger rushed through him making him throw his phone on his bed.

He let out a frustrated groan, clamping his hair in his fists. “For f—”

“Hyung?”

Taehyun looked up. “Donghyun, I—”

“What are you doing?” The younger