"Hello? Hello? Who is this?"

That voice. His voice.

Crap. Crappity crap. He cannot do this. He taps the 'end call' button and breathes. Sure, he has heard the sound of his own voice before in playbacks and what not, but this... this is way different. That voice. His voice. The one that used to belong to him. It is saying things on its own! Like a creepy robotic answering machine!

The phone tinkles and vibrates and scares the out of him. He does not feel like looking at the screen but... but... he looks, and he recognizes his number. It is calling back... the creepy robotic answering machine that has his voice.

Should he answer it? His thumb hovers over the 'accept call' button... hovering most dangerously. The phone will just not shut up on its own. He looks around, making sure the chubby chick is no where in sight. This... this might get a little messy.

His thumb makes a landing and he holds his breath.

"Hello? Hello? When you hung up, I finally realized what number this was. It's my number. Hello? Are you there? Speak to me!" The voice is his voice... definitely.

His brain is a jumble, but it is still trying to make some sense out of senseless things. Is the creepy robotic answering machine saying that this is its phone he is calling from? So... does that mean what he thinks it means?

"Hello? Hello? No, no... don't hang up on me again. You called this number so you must know what the hell is going—"

He hangs up and breathes. The phone is going to tinkle and vibrate again. He just knows it. Should he turn it off? Remove the battery? Chuck it out the window? He slides the phone across the table... watches it tinkle and vibrate for a while. Obviously, the creepy robotic answering machine is trying to reach him again. Too bad. He just cannot handle it right now.

• • • • • • •

Oh my god... the person with her phone is not answer. Why the are they not answering?! Rawr! What is she going to do now? What the is she going to do now?! Call her manager... right, right. Slowly, she dials the number... taking her sweet, sweet time. These fingers will take a while to get used to... but she does not want to get used to them! She wants all this weird stuff to end... like now! She sighs. Ugh, even her sighs are weird.

"Hello? Stacey, baby? Please. It's me, Xinling. Please, I need your help. I know this might sound really out there, but I'm stuck in this strange house. It's like some warped dream and like... my body isn't my body. Oh, ... oh, ... am I dead?"

"I'm sorry... I only speak a few words of Korean. Maybe you have the wrong number, sir. I can't really help you..."

"Stacey! It's Wang Xinling... It's Cyndi. I'm Cyndi. What are you talking about... Korean? I know, I know... my voice isn't really my voice but you have to believe—"

The line goes silent.

What? Seriously? Blown off, again? What is up with today?

• • • • • • •

"Xinling." The chubby chick walks into the room with a bag of meds. She thinks he is sick... but he is not. He is so not sick. "Xinling... this weird Korean man called me. He seems to know my name... and your name. I don't know how he got my number. Is he one of the creepy stalkers? Maybe you should skip the breakfast meeting with your sister and reschedule until I resolve all this."

There she goes again, the chubby chick, talking like he understands all her lengthy, foreign speeches. He does not understand a word she is saying, okay? He keeps on telling her, but she just keeps on going and going and going...

Ugh. It is hopeless... utterly hopeless.