He ran out the door while his friend ran to a different direction. Knowing his friend, he might have fainted by now.
Then he went to the power box to flip the switch. All the lights were on, and it was time to check the psycho behind the door. He had a feeling it wasn't a ghost but a psycho house thief or worst a boyfriend of a fan who wants to murder him and feast on his insides because she told him he can never be as handsome as him.
Wait. Way too graphic. Stop thinking about it. He shook the thought away.
He stood there utterly amused with the thought. Nah it's not going to be that bad. He's not holding a bloody axe, right? Right?!
He grabbed the nearest thing he could find in the living room, which is a long metal firestick with a sharp edge. It looks a little bit like a fencing sword which might give him the upper hand in case if the freakin' frac decides to attack him.
He slowly opened the door, cautiously scanning the room for any movements.
"Surprise!" The sound of party poppers and the worst Asian accent of surprise ever heard enveloped the room.
What in the ever loving --- !?
He shrugged his head. Not accepting the situation that is being presented to him.
He thought to himself. "Nope, no. I'm not sure what just happened but I was pretty sure I was in a horror seen where I was about to make some kickass move and defeat this goon."
"Nope." He whispered. Then suddenly shouted, "This is Sparta!"
He came running to the delinquent who planned the scheme and beat him as blood was spewing everywhere. Boom! Everything then suddenly exploded.
Hyun Seok snapped out of his weird mind. when he heard a sound coming from the music room. He strongly believed his imagination was way better than standing by the door and nervously calculating what to do next.
"Oh you're here." A man was standing beside the window. He looked like a well-tanned Asian reggae with long deadlocks. The only odd thing about him is his devilish green eyes felt like its going to make you doubt who you are.
"Do I know you?" Hyun replied while his eyes search the room for his friend.
"Don't worry man. Your little buddy is fine" The reggae guy pointed to the balcony where a passed out tall guy seems to have plopped on mini couch.
"Okay tell me your conditions." He tried to act tough in front of the strange reggae guy in front of him.
"Calm down man. I ain't no kidnapper. I'm here for because I found her." Strange reggae guy went closer to hand him a picture of a girl that looks similar to the sketch he draw a new months ago.
Realizing what had happened. Strange reggae guy was the private investigator that he hired back when he felt that people around him look like they know him more than he knew himself.
It turned more suspicious when his friends called him to eat at an old dak galbi restaurant that they used to hang out to and his mother went livid the second she heard the shop's name.
I mean, wasn't she just overreacting? When he called his friends back, they mentioned they suddenly had other places to go and remembered that it was another shop, they just got the name wrong. His friends sounded frantic on the phone.
Sometimes you think you know someone. You trust them because they've been there for long, they know things, seen things nobody else know. Intimate moments that you tend to take for granted because "what the hell" you can always make new memories.
Yes, you can make new memories but all the feelings you put through on those moments - what mattered in those times were what you felt. And now your amnesia gets the best of you. Would you rather remember everything - good or bad? Or would you just walk away since all those memories disappeared anyway? Is it really better not knowing?