Today is the day, he thought while looking out the train window. He was determined to propose to her tonight. Everything was set: he had bought the ring, he had bought red flowers and sent them to the restaurant where they would meet, he had chosen the song that would play, he had bought a nice sweater and a jacket, and even memorized a small piece of a poem to say before proposing. In his mind, everything should go as planned, and tonight should finish one chapter of his life and start another one.
The announcement was made: "Dear passengers, this is the last station. Please, do not approach the door before the train stops." He adjusted his outfit to head towards the door. The second he moved to stand up, the train suddenly braked, causing everyone who was standing to fall to the ground, screaming.
He didn't scream, but his eyes were wide open from the shock he was going through. He turned his head, looked around, tried to understand what was happening, but everyone else was doing the same thing. Some of them were asking each other. The train was slowing down very fast, so everyone became quiet and waited for it to fully stop. After a few seconds, it had almost stopped, but suddenly all the lights went off and inside the train, it was dark now.
"At least it stopped," he thought. People from various seats started turning on their smartphone flashlights. He stood up, turned on his smartphone light, and tried to find his seat to pick up his things. He had also taken off his jacket because it was very hot inside the train, even in winter. He tried to find it by holding the phone's light, but he couldn't see it. "Maybe this is the wrong seat," he thought, and also started looking at the other seats, but it wasn't anywhere.
Suddenly, he felt a mix of anger and sadness. "Damn it, this must be a joke," he muttered to himself.
After checking the other seats, he bent down and started looking under them. Something caught his attention under the seat two rows back. He walked over, bent further under the seat, pointed his light towards it, and reached out for the object. It was a ring box. He felt a wave of relief. "Thank God," he muttered, and as he tried to carefully back out without hitting his head, a loud crash erupted. First, he hit his head as the train jolted, and then he was dragged along under several rows of seats. People had fallen to the ground and started screaming again. He tried to grab hold of something to get up. However, as he stood, he noticed that the floor didn't seem stable. He looked around and peered out the window, confused. Someone screamed, "Oh my God, the train is tipping over!" His eyes widened in fear. "Forget the jacket," he thought to himself. What mattered most had already been found. Now, he had to do what everyone else was trying to do-get out of there. He ran with the crowd toward the nearest door. People were panicking, trying to open it, but it wouldn't budge. This was one of the disadvantages of modern trains. Then, one of the passengers had an idea to break the window. A female passenger grabbed the emergency hammer above one of the windows and handed it to a man. He struck the glass several times, shattering it. By now, the tilt of the train car was unmistakable. He was waiting for his turn to get out as quickly as possible, but it didn't seem like anyone was actually waiting in line. So, while making sure not to cut in front of any women or children, he squeezed in among the other passengers, gently pressing forward with the crowd, trying to get out as soon as he could. After a few shoves, he finally made it to the front. Carefully avoiding the broken glass, he placed his feet on the safe parts of the window frame and, with a strong push, threw himself onto the snowy tracks.
Now, stepping outside, he could better comprehend the gravity of the situation. Two trains had collided, both lying on their sides, windows shattered, carriages crushed into one another, and fragments of metal scattered everywhere. People were screaming—some searching for loved ones, some crying in fear, others staring blankly in shock, and a few had already started walking away to somewhere else. Following the crowd, he first walked a bit along the tracks, then turned around. He wanted to help the others, but he only had a sweater on, and in this snowy weather, he was freezing. Now he stood there with a ring box in one hand and a half-charged phone in his pocket. He looked around—some people were on their phones, talking. He pulled out his own phone. Before doing anything, he lifted his head and thought about whom he could call. His family and friends were in another country; if he called now and told them he'd just survived a train crash, he knew they'd panic. So, he decided not to call them. But who could he call here? He thought about calling his girlfriend—of course, she could come and support him, maybe even pick him up from here. But if he called her right now, just when he was about to propose, it would ruin the entire plan. He unlocked his phone, opened the menu, found his contacts list, and began scrolling through it from top to bottom:
George,
Grace,
Harry,
Hannah,
Icy Ian,
Iris,
Julia,
Kev,
Kate,
Liam,
Lil' Jack,
Lucy <3
Just then, a gust of wind made him shiver as the cold gave him goosebumps. He needed to act quickly, find somewhere to go, and figure out the rest from there. After thinking for a moment, it occurred to him that his friend Hannah might live nearby and could possibly help him. Hesitantly, and with some doubt, he tapped on her name, and the phone began to ring. He didn't want to disturb her or cause unnecessary panic, but at the same time, he wanted to get out of there quickly, find out what had happened, and continue with what he needed to do. So, as the phone rang, he both wanted and didn't want her to pick up. Suddenly, the phone was answered, and he heard Hannah's voice.
"Hey, where have you been? I haven't heard from you in a while. How are you?"
"Hey Hannah, thanks... um, I'm sorry for bringing this up at a time like this, but—"
"What happened?"
"There was a train accident."
"What?! What are you talking about? Where are you? Are you okay?" she replied, shocked.
"Um... yeah, I'm fine, but if you're nearby, would it be possible for you to pick me up? I know this is a lot to ask, but..."
"No, no, no! Are you crazy? Where are you? Tell me right now, I'm coming!" she said, sounding worried.
"I'm really grateful. I'll send you my location right now through the phone. Thank you so much."
He hadn't realized it before, but when he called someone and said he had been in a train accident, he suddenly became aware of what he had gone through. In an instant, with the cold affecting him, his breath began to tremble, and without fully understanding what was happening, he crouched down between the tracks, trying not to make a sound as he started to cry. He couldn't believe it, but at the same time, it felt as though he couldn't stop his emotions from pouring out.
When his emotions had finally settled and clarity returned to him, he walked toward the nearby bus stop where Hannah had said she would be. It was a bus stop in the middle of nowhere, with barely anything around. The colors of an old graffiti were faded, its words unreadable, and the bench was broken. Feeling tired, he knew he couldn't stand for long, so he sat down on the half-broken wooden bench that barely resembled a seat and began waiting.
As he waited, he replayed everything that had happened in his mind, but he still couldn't believe it all.
Lost in thought, Guy was startled when a matte black Tesla pulled up in front of the stop. The passenger window rolled down, and Hannah leaned slightly toward him, nodding as she asked, "Hey, Guy. Shall we go?"
He got up slowly, opened the car door, and sat down. Hannah leaned closer and held his hand.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked.
Guy couldn't respond. He tried to smile, but it came out so forced that Hannah must have realized he wasn't fine. He simply muttered, "Mmhmm," and stared out the windshield at the road ahead.
Seeing there wasn't much she could do for now, Hannah pressed the accelerator and began driving toward home.
Guy was aware that Hannah was not only driving but also worrying about him. Feeling the need to ease her concern, he finally broke the silence.
"So, how are you? What have you been up to? Sorry, I guess I'm a bit out of it," he said, trying to appear composed.
Hannah saw right through his effort. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me now," she said gently. "Let's just get home. I'll fix you something, and you can rest and pull yourself together."
"Thank you," Guy said, his voice soft with gratitude. "You're such a good friend."
After some time, night had fallen, and they finally arrived. "Here we are," Hannah said as she parked the car. They stepped out, entered the apartment building, and made their way to Hannah's flat.
As soon as they walked in, Guy hesitated before speaking. "I know it's a bit late to ask, but... I won't be bothering you, will I?" he said, then quickly added, "I mean, was there anything you needed to do, or is there anyone else here I might disturb?"
"Relax," Hannah replied with a reassuring smile. "No one's coming or going, and I didn't have anything planned. Just make yourself comfortable."
Hannah's words seemed to put him at ease. He flopped onto the couch in the living room with a deep sigh. "Wow, what a day," he muttered.
"Guy, what happened? Tell me everything," she said, then paused. "Actually, wait. Let me go change first, and then we can talk properly."
"Sure, that sounds good. I'll wait," he answered with a faint smile.
Just a few minutes later, Hannah returned, dressed in a black, nightgown-like dress with a plunging neckline. Her hair was down, flowing freely around her shoulders. She sat down beside Guy, so close that only a few inches separated them.
Guy glanced at her and, almost involuntarily, his eyes swept over her from head to toe in a quick, shy motion. Hannah noticed and smiled.
"Guy, what happened? When did you get here? What's going on? You have to tell me everything," she said, her tone both excited and endearing.
"First of all," he began, "thank you again for picking me up and letting me stay here. Also, you... you look amazing," he added, almost hesitantly.
He regretted the compliment for a moment, worried she might take it the wrong way, but then reminded himself that they were friends, and there shouldn't be anything wrong with saying it. He didn't dwell on it for long and started recounting everything that had happened.
As time passed, he paused in the middle of his story. Something was distracting him-Hannah's perfume, her long, loose hair, her piercing gaze locked onto his, her neckline, and the way she had crossed her legs so elegantly right next to him. It was as if he were frozen in place, overwhelmed by her presence.
He stopped and smiled faintly. "You're a great listener," he said.
Hannah reached out, took his hand from where it rested on the couch, and placed it on her thigh. Then, she put her hand on top of his.
"You know," Hannah said, her voice soft and teasing, "there are other things I'm very good at."
With that, she leaned in closer to him. Before he knew it, their lips met in a brief but electric kiss. When it ended, Guy gasped.
"Oh my God," he said, his voice filled with panic. "But I told you, didn't I? I'm engaged! What have I done?"
"Don't worry, I know," Hannah replied calmly. "I'm just trying to help you relax. Afterward, if you want, you can leave."
"Hannah, I love you-I mean, I love you as a friend. You're amazing, but I think my mind is all over the place right now. I don't want to give you the wrong impression. I'm really sorry," he said, looking at her, waiting for her response.
Instead of replying, Hannah leaned in and kissed him again. This time, it was a quick peck, but it left him flustered.
"Please, stop," Guy said, standing up abruptly. "I don't want to be rude to you, but as I said, I'm engaged to someone else."
"I understand, and I'm not misinterpreting anything," Hannah said, rising to her feet and walking toward him with deliberate, slow steps. "I just thought we could reconnect, after all this time."
When she finally reached him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. "You know," she whispered, "you can come back after you see your fiancée. Maybe then, we can talk again. Don't worry, I won't force you into anything."
But before finishing her sentence, Hannah slid the straps of her dress off her shoulders. Now, she stood before him in nothing but her underwear.
Guy's composure shattered. He could feel his breath quicken, and all he wanted was to leave the apartment immediately. "Hannah, please," he said desperately. "You're a good person, but I can't do this."
He tried to step past her, but Hannah grabbed the back of his sweater, and the sound of fabric tearing filled the air.
"No, this can't be happening," Guy muttered in disbelief.
At that very moment, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. Guy froze, giving Hannah just enough time to grab her dress from the floor and quickly cover herself.
She had a sinking feeling she already knew who was at the door.
With a whisper, Guy asked, "Who is it?"
"My boyfriend," Hannah replied calmly.
Panic took hold of Guy as he continued in a hushed voice, "What do we do now?" Before Hannah could respond, the door swung open, revealing a towering man with a smile on his face. But his smile quickly vanished, replaced by a fiery rage as his eyes landed on Guy, standing awkwardly, and Hannah, hastily covering herself with her nightdress.
"What the heck is happening here?" the man demanded, his voice a mixture of confusion and fury.
Guy opened his mouth to explain, but before he could utter a word, Hannah interjected. "He... he tried to force himself on me. I couldn't stop him," she said, sneaking a glance at Guy to gauge his reaction.
The large man, Ted, seemed skeptical. His voice softened slightly but retained its edge as he asked, "Then how did he even get in here in the first place?"
Hannah continued her fabricated story. "He's an old friend from college. We studied here together. He called me, said he wanted to catch up, and I agreed. But when he came over, he started acting... differently. Oh Teddy bear, if you hadn't shown up..." She trailed off dramatically.
Ted, unconvinced, took a few steps toward Guy. Grabbing him by the collar with one powerful hand, he lifted him off the ground effortlessly. With narrowed eyes and a menacing tone, he growled, "Is she telling the truth?, speak! Then he turned to the woman and said, "And how many times do I have to tell you? It's Bear Ted, not Teddy Bear. Oh God, this woman!"
Guy, stunned and struggling to process Hannah's lies, stammered, "Yes and no."
Ted hesitated, caught off guard, giving Guy the chance to continue. "Yes, I called Hannah because I needed someone to talk to after surviving a train accident. But no, I didn't try to force myself on her. In fact, it's quite the opposite."
Ted's eyes flicked back and forth between Hannah and Guy, his anger growing. "One of you better start telling the truth," he warned, his voice cold and dangerous. "Because I swear, I won't hesitate to kill you both right here and walk away without a second thought."
"I'm telling the truth," Guy said quickly. "I was trying to leave, Look, even my my sweater got torn," he added, turning to show the tear in the back of his sweater.
Ted released him, his grip loosening as he was trying to see the damaged sweater. But before Guy could feel relief, Hannah made another desperate move. "No! That's not true," she cried. "He kissed me-more than once-without my consent. He probably tore his sweater when I was pushing him away!"
Ted glanced at the sweater, then at Hannah, his expression twisting into one of disgust. "You did it again, didn't you?" he said, not as a question, but as a bitter acknowledgment of her pattern.
Turning back to Guy, Ted gestured toward the door. "Come on, man. If you've got somewhere to go, I'll give you a ride before it's too late."
He grabbed his car keys from the table, then threw a scornful glance at Hannah. "We'll talk later. And this time, we're settling this for good."
Without waiting for her reply, Ted strode out the door, slamming it shut behind him after Guy followed.
"I got off easy," Guy thought as they walked away. "For such a big guy, he's surprisingly merciful." Still, he had a nagging feeling that this wasn't the end of it, and he resolved to stay cautious moving forward.
They exited the apartment building and got into Ted's purple sports car. Guy was so on edge that he sat awkwardly, as if the seat were covered in thorns, ready to jump up at any moment.
"Relax," Ted said. "Maybe you did kiss her, but I know it wasn't your fault. That woman will do anything to seduce someone." Even so, the stern expression on Ted's face hadn't softened yet, leaving Guy unsure if Ted was bluffing or genuinely understanding.
"I would say nice to meet you under normal circumstances, but uh, I'm sorry things turned out this way," Guy said, pouring out his thoughts. "I really didn't mean for this to happen. After the accident, I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to reach out to someone I knew in this city. I don't even live in this country."
"Alright, man, calm down. Where should I drop you off? Do you have any money?" Ted asked.
"Thank you, I do. You're very kind. Could you just drop me off at any hotel you know? I'm not sure where to go," Guy replied.
Ted nodded silently and hit the gas, driving forward.
After a while, as they drove on in silence, Ted glanced at the road and then at Guy, a puzzled look on his face. "So, why was she wearing a nightgown?" he asked. "Were you about to...?"
"No. no, no, no! Absolutely not!" Guy stammered. "Look, I'm really sorry, okay? I've caused you so much trouble. If you want, you can drop me off here, no problem."
"I mean..." Ted continued, "sure, your sweater was torn, but didn't it strike you as odd to see her in a nightgown? Or... did you want it too?"
Guy thought to himself, There's no turning back now. He needed to be very careful, and with Hannah not here, a little lie might save his skin. "She just said she'd change into something else and come back. I didn't expect her to show up like that," he managed to say.
"Hmm, okay. I see," Ted said, though he didn't seem fully convinced. "So now..." he began, but the car started shaking violently, swerving from side to side.
"What the f***?" Ted exclaimed, bewildered.
Guy looked out of the windows, trying to figure out what they had hit, but the darkness revealed nothing.
Ted didn't stop the car entirely; he slowed it down to about 50 km/h, but the shaking persisted.
"I think..." Guy said hesitantly. "I think it's an earthquake."
"An earthquake? But there are no earthquakes in this country," Ted replied. Just as he finished speaking, the ground beneath his side of the car suddenly dipped downward. Ted slammed the brakes, bringing the car to a halt.
The moment he opened the door to step out and see what was happening, he screamed, "Hey, help me! I'm falling!"
Guy quickly opened his door and jumped out, running toward Ted's side of the car. But as soon as Guy's weight left the car, it tilted further toward Ted's side. Before Guy could do anything, the car slipped into a massive crack in the ground.
Guy froze, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He immediately turned on his phone's flashlight and pointed it in that direction.
What he saw left him speechless. His mind went blank, and his mouth fell open as he stared at the gaping fissure that had suddenly split the highway.
It was enormous-large enough to swallow an entire car whole.
His mouth involuntarily dropped open in shock, hanging agape as if frozen in place. His eyes seemed ready to pop out of their sockets, and his mind had gone blank, incapable of forming a single coherent thought. Was this a dream, or was it reality? He couldn't tell. Could so many misfortunes really pile up in a single day?
Taking a few hesitant steps toward the crevice, he tried to peer inside, but the darkness of the night made it impossible to see anything. He didn't want to drain his phone's battery, but this was an extraordinary situation. Reluctantly, he turned on the flashlight on his phone, directing it into the gap, straining to make out what lay within.
The car's glossy purple coating faintly shimmered inside the crevice, but it was clear that climbing down without assistance would be impossible. He glanced around, hoping to find someone to help, but the area was deserted. The thought of calling the police crossed his mind, but he hesitated, worrying for a moment that he might look suspicious. Shaking off the irrational idea, he decided that helping was more important and quickly dialed the police on his phone. However, there was no signal where he stood.
Frustrated, he ended the call and considered flagging down drivers from passing cars for help. Just as he was about to act, the ground began to shake again. Panic overtook him as he backed away from the crack and vaulted over the guardrails, heading toward the forest lining the roadside. The tremors grew stronger, and the ground beneath him began to crackle ominously. Walking became nearly impossible.
For some reason, climbing a tree seemed like a good idea. He scrambled up the nearest one, barely managing to ascend a few inches, and clung to it tightly with his arms and legs. The shaking showed no sign of stopping-if anything, it seemed to intensify. Every passing second stretched into an eternity as fear gripped him tighter.
Then, amidst the chaos, he felt the unwelcome and absurd urge to relieve himself. In the middle of all this turmoil, the irony of the situation was almost too much to bear. Normally, he could hold it in for hours, but now it felt impossible.
After a while, he noticed the crevice in the road widening, splitting it apart entirely. His fear deepened, and the cold air seeped through the tear in his sweater, making him shiver. Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, the tremors stopped.
Even then, he didn't climb down immediately. He waited, scanning his surroundings cautiously. Slowly, he descended the tree-though he hadn't climbed very far to begin with.
But now, a new problem presented itself. He desperately needed to find a bathroom.
He couldn't hold it any longer. Trembling from both the cold and the adrenaline, he realized he wasn't in any condition to walk much farther. Scanning his surroundings, he stepped a bit deeper into the trees and relieved himself there.
Zipping up, a ridiculous smile spread across his face. "God," he muttered, "I'm sorry for harming nature, but I feel so much better."
Suddenly, he let out an unexpected, short laugh. A moment later, he hiccupped and began sobbing for a few seconds before bursting into laughter again, this time sounding almost unhinged. Then, just as abruptly, his face turned serious.
He slapped himself lightly across the cheek and shook his head as if trying to snap out of it. "Okay, I'm fine," he said to himself before starting to walk in the direction his car was supposed to be.
He turned on the GPS on his phone and opened the maps application, trying to locate the nearest hotels. After browsing for a while, he found one nearby and started walking toward it. It had been an exhausting day, and he was so sleepy that he could barely keep his eyes open.
After walking for about 10-15 minutes, he arrived at a motel with no lights on. It was past midnight, and everything was pitch black. He glanced at his phone battery-it was down to 5%. With a resigned sigh, he turned on his phone's flashlight and scanned the surroundings. The beam of light landed on a sign displaying the name of the motel: "Motel Bear Inn."
"I hope it bears," he thought anxiously, noticing how old and rundown the motel looked. "But not bears in," he added with a hint of fear, his unease growing.
Pointing the flashlight toward the door, he stepped inside cautiously, glancing around. He sneezed. The air was dusty-so dusty, in fact, that he could almost feel a thin layer of it on his tongue. He made his way to what looked like the reception desk.
"Hello?" he called out. "Anyone here? There's a customer inside," he added, mockingly, trying to lighten the unsettling silence. But there were no lights, no sounds-nothing.
"Whatever," he muttered. "I just need a bed as soon as possible."
He walked down the hallway on the ground floor. Some of the doors were ajar. Peeking into one of the rooms, he found a bed, complete with a blanket and a pillow on top. Shining his flashlight carefully over it, he concluded that it seemed clean enough. Without a second thought, he threw himself onto the bed. He was so exhausted that he didn't even bother to take off his boots. Pulling the blanket over himself, he fell asleep within seconds.
---
"No!" he screamed, jolting awake.
He looked around, disoriented. The first light of dawn was creeping in.
"What a nightmare," he muttered to himself. "It felt like a real earthquake."
But then he noticed something unsettling-the bed was still shaking. For a moment, he froze, trying to figure out whether it was his mind playing tricks on him or if it was really happening. He lay still for a few seconds, and sure enough, the ground beneath him felt like it was bouncing him ever so slightly.
Even this small tremor had been enough to invade his dreams and wake him up. But as the shaking intensified and dust began to fall from the ceiling onto his face, panic surged through him. Grabbing his phone, he stumbled out of the room, steadying himself against the walls as he made his way toward the exit.
Once outside, he moved a safe distance away from the building and turned to look back. What he saw left him in shock. He finally understood why the motel had been abandoned. Cracks riddled the already dilapidated structure, and balconies from the upper floors had collapsed onto the ground.
"Oh my God," he whispered. "What have I done? I could've died."
He looked up and murmured, "Thank you, God, for giving me another day to live."
Just then, the building began to creak and groan, the sounds growing louder and more ominous. Instinctively, he started taking slow, hesitant steps backward, his eyes glued to the motel. He was still trying to process the fact that he had survived by sheer chance when the building suddenly began to collapse.
The entire structure tilted to one side before crumbling in on itself, sending a massive cloud of dust into the air. Frozen in shock, he couldn't move as the dust engulfed him. It was so thick that he couldn't breathe or see, forcing him to crouch down and shut his eyes tightly.
He felt like crying, but no tears would come. His emotions were spiraling out of control. Was he even awake? He wasn't sure anymore. Moments ago, he had been asleep in a bed that was now buried under the rubble of the collapsed motel.
He had been sitting there, motionless, for what felt like an eternity. Minutes might have passed, or maybe hours-he had no idea. Then, the sound of a motorcycle broke through the silence, growing louder until it stopped nearby. He heard footsteps, the crunch of small pebbles under boots, signaling that the rider was approaching.
"Excuse me," said a muffled voice, accompanied by a gentle tap on his shoulder. "Excuse me, sir?" the rider repeated.
The man slowly turned his head towards the voice. Standing before him was a figure clad entirely in black motorcycle gear, dusted with debris, the silhouette thin and indistinct. It was impossible to tell if the person was a man or a woman; even the muffled voice, distorted by the helmet, gave no clue.
"Sir, do you need help?" the rider asked. The man's shoulders began to shake, and tears silently streamed down his face. The rider couldn't see his expression but knew something was wrong from the trembling.
"I'm the daughter of this hotel's owner," the rider said, her voice cautious. "I came to check on the property, but I see I'm too late."
The man raised his head to look at her. "I... I was in this hotel last night. I woke up just as it started collapsing and barely escaped in time," he confessed, unsure why he was sharing this with a complete stranger. Perhaps he was desperate for someone, anyone, to help him.
"Oh, my God," the rider whispered. She slowly removed her helmet, revealing long hair that tumbled free as she crouched beside the distraught man. "Come on. Let me take you somewhere," she said softly.
Guy, simply nodded. The woman put her helmet back on, started her motorcycle, and gestured for him to climb on. He obeyed, sitting behind her. Through the partially open visor, she said, "I can't lend you my jacket-it won't fit-but if you stay close to me, the wind won't hit you as hard. Keep your head near my helmet and hold onto my waist."
Guy complied, but his grip was weak from exhaustion. Sensing this, the rider took his arms and pulled them tighter around her waist. "Can you hold on?" she asked. Guy gave her a thumbs-up.
Once he was secure, she revved the engine and took off. The ride was brief, and soon they arrived at a parking garage. She parked the motorcycle and climbed off.
"This is my apartment," she said, turning to him. "If you want, you can come inside and take a shower."
Guy hesitated, his expression uncertain. Sensing his reluctance, she added, "Don't worry-you won't be disturbing anyone."
She took a few steps toward the building and glanced back, relieved to see him following her at a slow pace. Together, they entered the apartment.
Inside, she set her helmet and keys on a table near the door, hung her jacket on a hook, and said, "I'll prepare the bathroom for you."
"There's no need to go to any trouble," Guy said quietly.
"It's no trouble at all," she assured him. "A shower will help you feel better."
She led him to the bathroom, showed him how to use everything, and handed him a fresh towel. He thanked her several times before she smiled and said, "Take your time. I'll run to the store and pick up a few things while you're in there."
She left the apartment, and Guy, moving slowly, began to shower.
When Guy opened the bathroom door and stepped out, he noticed new, unfamiliar clothes instead of his own. Confused, he called out, "Excuse me?"
"Yes?" came the response from the other room.
"I think my clothes aren't here. Could you bring them?"
"Oh!" the woman exclaimed. "They were too dusty, so I bought you new ones. I didn't know your size, but I guessed and picked a few things. If they don't fit, you can exchange them later."
Guy was stunned. He hadn't expected such kindness. "But..." he managed to say, though the rest of his sentence didn't come out.
"Please," she said gently. "I just wanted to help. It's no trouble."
He was still in disbelief. Meeting someone this considerate was beyond what he had imagined. "I don't even know how to thank you, but... thank you so much," he said earnestly.
"It's nothing, really," she replied with a smile. "By the way, I made some coffee," she added with a laugh. "But seriously, stop thanking me. It's starting to feel awkward."
Alright, but one last question-why are you doing this? I'm just a Random Guy," he said.
The woman smiled softly. "If I were in the same situation, wouldn't you do the same for me?"
"Yeah, I see now," Guy replied. You should be an angel," he added.
"Angela, actually," she said with a chuckle. "Good guess."
"And I'm Guy. Or you can call me Random Guy if you prefer," he said, smiling for the first time in a long while.
"Nice to meet you," Angela said.
"Nice to meet you too," Guy replied.
By the way, I'm sorry about your hotel," Guy said.
"Don't worry about it," Angela replied. "I kept telling my dad it was too old and that one day it would collapse in a storm. It wasn't a storm, but it happened during the earthquake, just as I said."
"Still, losing your source of income must be tough. If there's anything I can do to help..."
"Thank you, that's very kind of you," Angela said with a warm smile. She then asked when Guy had gone to the hotel and what had happened to him.
Guy recounted his story, and after that, he asked her some questions. Angela shared her own experiences, and they chatted for a while.
Finally, after taking the last sip of his coffee, Guy said, "I should get going now. All my belongings are in my hotel room in the city, and I really need to retrieve them."
"Well then, are you ready for another ride?" Angela asked.
Guy smiled and said, "Of course, but first, there's something I need to do," he added.
"Sure," Angela replied.
They got ready and stepped out of the apartment together.
"First, I need to get myself a jacket. I lost mine on the train, and ever since then, I've been thinking about how important a jacket really is," Guy said.
"There's a good place nearby," Angela replied.
They went to a store and picked out a thick, black leather jacket similar to Angela's biker gear. Afterward, they returned to the motorcycle.
"So, where to?" Angela asked, as if eagerly awaiting their next adventure.
Guy told her the name of the hotel where his room was. Angela typed the address into her phone's maps app, mounted the phone on the front of her motorcycle, and followed the directions. The app estimated the journey would take 44 minutes.
Five or ten minutes into the ride, Angela shouted, "Hey, everything okay back there?"
There was no response.
Guy had turned his head to the side, but he wasn't looking at the road. Instead, he seemed lost in his thoughts, examining them like one might study a distant horizon.
Angela tried again. "Is everything okay back there?"
But between the wind's roar and Guy's deep contemplation, she received no reply. She glanced between the road ahead and Guy's expression. She didn't ask a third time. Watching the man behind her smile faintly, then grow serious, then smile again as he drifted through his thoughts was somehow more enjoyable.
Guy seemed to be watching the trees along the roadside, but in truth, he was lost in memories. A road trip with his parents when he was twelve had come to mind. He'd been sitting in the back seat, his hand stretched out the car window, playing with the wind as it rushed past, an unconscious smile on his face.
It might have been the first time he realized he could lose himself in his thoughts-or at least, it was the first time he could remember. He'd thought about life, about what he was doing, and what he wanted to do. Then he'd asked his father, "Dad, when you were a kid, did you know what you wanted to be when you grew up?" He couldn't recall exactly what his father had said, but the memory itself made him happy.
That memory, though, brought him back to the present. He started thinking about where he was, what he was doing, and what he had wanted to be when he was a kid. A tinge of sadness crept in; the thought unsettled him.
But then he realized something: he was still able to lose himself in his thoughts, just like he had back then. He smiled again at that realization. He leaned closer to Angela and hugged her tightly, as if embracing all the people he wished he could hold close. It felt good.
At the same time, Angela smiled too, sensing that Guy had returned to the moment. She repeated her question, "Everything okay back there?"
Though the wind muffled his voice, Guy laughed out loud in response and gave her a thumbs-up.
And so, the two continued their journey, silent but content, enjoying the simple joy of traveling together.
And then, through the Bluetooth headset, Angela heard the "you've reached your destination" notification. She stopped the bike in a suitable spot. Guy was still holding on to her. Angela turned her head back, and before a few seconds passed, Guy said, "Oh, so sorry."
"No problem," Angela replied. "I enjoyed it too."
Guy got off the bike. "It was nice meeting you, Angela. Thank you for everything," he said.
Angela responded, "What do you mean? Aren't you going to tell me what our next adventure is?"
At that very moment, Guy thought of his girlfriend. He became serious, lowered his head, and wasn't sure what to say. It could have been fun to do something with this girl, but at the same time, if she had other intentions, it might have upset her.
"Look," Guy said, "I'd love to, really, but there's something you should know."
"Hey, I'm not stupid, I get it," Angela said. "I mean, when are we going to reunite you with the one you love? Tell me that."
These words made Guy feel flattered, but at the same time, he found himself starting to warm up to the girl.
For a moment, they looked at each other, and both felt the same spark. But at the same time, they both realized that getting closer would not be the right thing to do, so they just Said "allright then" and turned their heads away.
"Let me show you the address," Guy said, trying to find something to say.
Angela responded, "Yeah, let me see," curious if it was a place she might recognize.
Guy's phone had already run out of battery, so he took Angela's phone and entered the address. When Angela looked at it, her expression shifted from confusion to surprise. She held the phone up to Guy and asked, "This place? Really?"
Guy, not understanding her reaction, double-checked the address before replying hesitantly, "Uh, yeah?"
Angela laughed. "This is where my dad lives. What are the odds of that?" she said with a chuckle.
Guy was equally surprised. "Wow, what are the chances?" he replied.
"One second," Angela said. "Since we're going there, maybe I'll see my dad too. Let me call him."
She took her phone, dialed her father's number, and waited as it rang. A moment later, he picked up, and they began chatting. After a brief conversation, she hung up with a smile. "All right, I'll meet you in about half an hour," she said.
Then, turning to Guy, she asked, "Are you going to call your girlfriend ahead too?"
Guy hesitated for a moment before replying, "No, I think, I'd rather surprise her."
"Sure," Angela said with a nod. "So, let's get going."
After a while, Angela parked her motorcycle by the curb. As Guy looked up at the building, for a brief moment, the image of the hotel collapsing flashed through his mind, and he felt a wave of unease. He hadn't expected to feel this anxious.
"You okay?" Angela asked, noticing his hesitation.
"Yeah, yeah," Guy said, trying to brush it off. "Let's go."
They entered the building. Guy led the way, Angela started to mention that her father's place was on the third floor. Since the building didn't have an elevator, they began climbing the stairs.
As they approached the second floor, Guy was about to say, " and Lucy's apartment is right on this floor," when a door opened on the left side. A man stepped out facing the apartment, and Guy instinctively raised his hand to stop Angela.
Sensing something was wrong, Angela fell silent and leaned her head forward, trying to understand what was happening.
"Wait, let me see you off," said a woman's voice. She approached the man, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and rose up on her toes to kiss him on the lips.
Guy stood frozen, silently watching. Slowly, he stepped back, his eyes locked on the scene. Turning around, he motioned for Angela to go back. Angela gestured as if to ask, "What's wrong?" but Guy insisted with hand signals for her to retreat.
Together, they began tiptoeing down the stairs to avoid being seen. But just as they reached the landing, the ground began to shake.
"Run!" Guy shouted.
They rushed down the stairs, bolted out of the building, and crossed the street to where Angela's motorcycle was parked. From there, they waited for the tremors to subside.
Angela placed her hand on Guy's shoulder. "Relax, nothing's going to happen. It'll stop soon," she said.
But before she could finish her sentence, creaking sounds echoed from the building. First, the building to the right collapsed, then the one to the left, and finally, the very building they had just exited crumbled into a cloud of dust and debris.
"Dad!" Angela screamed.
"Nooo!" Guy yelled, their cries of despair overlapping.
Guy stood frozen in place, paralyzed by shock. He stared blankly at the pile of dust and rubble that had been the building, his mind swirling. This wasn't the first time he had witnessed something like this, but the difference was that this time, someone he loved had been inside.
Angela instinctively tried to rush forward, but Guy, in a hollow voice barely above a whisper, stopped her. "Stop. It's too late."
Tears streamed down Angela's face as she struggled against Guy's grip, her eyes fixed on the ruins in desperation. The ground was still shaking beneath their feet. Just as she managed to break free from Guy's hold and rushed forward, crying out, "Dad!" a voice called from behind her.
"Angela!"
Angela spun around, and what she saw left her stunned. Her father wasn't inside the building-he was right there. For a moment, even Guy's attention was drawn to the scene as he looked over at them.
"Dad!" Angela screamed.
Her father ran toward her, and they embraced tightly.
"Dad, I thought you were inside," Angela sobbed.
"I'm just so glad to see you," her father said, holding her close. I had just stepped out to the market to buy something two minutes ago because I knew you were coming."
Guy, still in shock, lowered his head into his hands. Thoughts raced through his mind: What should I do? What should I feel? Where should I go? He began sobbing uncontrollably.
The tremors gradually subsided and finally stopped.
Angela's father motioned to her and quietly asked, "Who is this?"
"A friend," Angela replied. "I'll explain later. He's in really bad shape-he just saw his girlfriend cheating on him, and then... she was in that building when it collapsed."
Her father's face filled with shock. "No," he said involuntarily, his voice loud and filled with disbelief. "That can't be."
Holding Angela's hand in one of his own, he stepped closer to Guy. "Son, I'm so sorry," he said softly.
To his surprise, Guy leaned into him, wrapping his arms around him and crying even harder.
"All right, son. All right," Angela's father said, patting Guy's back.
Though the man was a stranger to him, hearing him call him "son" in this moment, so far from his own family, gave Guy a sense of comfort he hadn't expected.
Suddenly, Guy pulled away, sniffing and taking a deep breath as he tried to compose himself. He looked at Angela's father and stammered, "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be, son," Angela's father said reassuringly.
"Dad, this is Guy," Angela interjected. "He's my friend."
"Nice to meet you, son," her father said, looking at Guy kindly.
Guy only nodded once, unable to muster the strength to do more.
Suddenly, a second tremor began, this one so intense that it was nearly impossible to stay on their feet. They extended their arms for balance, looking like they were trying to walk a tightrope. At that moment, Angela's motorcycle shook violently and toppled over. Angela tried to lift it, but a large crack started forming right beneath her feet.
"Leave it!" her father shouted.
Angela ignored him and kept trying. "Guy, help me!" she yelled.
Just as Guy moved to assist her, a fissure opened up between them. Realizing the danger, he pulled back and shouted, "Angela, get over here now! The crack is widening!"
Reluctantly, Angela abandoned the motorcycle and leaped across the fissure, landing on Guy and her father's side. Within seconds, the crack deepened into a chasm, and the ground tore apart, creating a massive pit that swallowed the motorcycle as it tumbled violently into the void.
"Angela," Guy said, pulling her into a hug. "That was too dangerous. Please, don't ever do that again."
Angela glanced at Guy and then at her father, finally realizing what she had done. She had nearly lost both of them in her attempt to save the motorcycle.
"Let's get out of here," Angela said, her voice firm.
Leaving the collapsed buildings and the growing destruction behind, the three of them began running toward a safer ground.
They ran to a nearby park, found a spot among the trees, and started catching their breath. Angela stretched backward, placing her hands on her hips, while Guy bent forward, resting his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Angela's father stood with his hands on his hips, looking around.
"So, what now?" Angela asked.
"Look," her father said, "Take a careful look around and listen closely."
Angela observed the scene. She saw collapsed buildings, a brown haze of dust, cracked roads with vehicles struggling to pass, and people running, crying, hugging each other, or carrying children. She focused on the sounds: wailing, shouting, sirens, voices, whispers, radio broadcasts, walkie-talkie chatter, and barking dogs. She realized how much she hadn't noticed in the rush of events.
"And then?" she asked her father, curious.
"I'm staying here," he replied, "to help the people as much as I can."
Angela wasn't thrilled with his answer; staying in one place wasn't her style. She turned to Guy.
"What about you?" she asked uneasily.
"All my things are at the hotel in the city," Guy replied. "If it's still standing, I want to retrieve them and come back here to help you and the others."
Angela placed a hand on his shoulder. "Guy," she said, "if you ever need to talk, you know... I'm here for you."
Guy was beginning to like this understanding woman, but his heart was too overwhelmed with panic and unease for any tender feelings to surface.
"Thank you, Angela," he said. "But I really need to get my things from the hotel."
Angela thought for a moment, then said, "Oh wait, first you should call to make sure the hotel is still there."
"Ah, yes. Who knows what the city center looks like now. You're right; I'll call first," Guy agreed. Then he remembered-his phone was dead.
"Could I borrow your phone?" he asked Angela.
"Of course," she said, pulling her phone out of her pocket, only to realize it was dead too.
Angela's father handed over his phone. "Use mine," he said. "No point in going all that way for nothing."
Guy thanked him, took the phone, and searched for the hotel's number through the maps app. He dialed, but instead of a ringtone, there was only irregular static. He hung up and tried again. Still, no ringtone.
"I think the lines might be down across the city," Guy suggested.
"Or the hotel's no longer standing," Angela added bluntly.
"Look, I don't want to go," Guy said, "but all my belongings are there-clothes, my wallet, my ID, my charger, everything. Right now, I've got nothing."
The words "I've got nothing" unexpectedly brought memories of his family and girlfriend rushing back, and he lowered his head, overcome with sadness.
Angela, a little agitated, said, "You just watched everything I owned get buried underground a few minutes ago, didn't you? Nothing about this is normal, and I don't want anything to happen to you too."
This was a subtle indication that Angela was giving more meaning to Guy than she would to an ordinary person, and both Guy and Angela's father had understood what it meant. Angela's father took this moment to excuse himself. "I'll go check out that wreckage over there," he said, giving them space to talk. Besides, people needed help, and he didn't want to waste any more time.
"Alright, Dad," Angela replied.
"Alright," Guy said after her dad has left. "So, what's the plan?"
"I don't know," Angela admitted, "but I just feel like going into the city after everything that's happened to you won't end well."
Guy pursed his lips, and siad "Good point," unwillingly. "How about this: we check out that electronics store over there, see if we can get some news. Maybe they'll even let us charge our phones."
As they walked toward the store, they took in their surroundings. Buildings taller than two stories had collapsed entirely. The few single-story structures that survived bore heavy cracks, looking barely stable.
At the store, they saw staff moving products from the shelves to another part of the interior.
"Hello," Angela called out.
"Hi," one of the staff replied.
"What's going on? Do you have any news about what's happening? Both of our phones are dead, and we're completely out of the loop."
First, the man took both of their phones to charge and than looked at them with a mix of surprise and unease before beginning to explain.
"Right now," he started, "how should I put this? The world is collapsing."
"What do you mean by 'the world'?" Angela asked. "The city, or...?"
"No," the man replied. "I mean the entire world. Something's happening everywhere. Some places... have already ceased to exist."
"What do you mean, 'ceased to exist'? You mean they've been damaged, right?" Angela pressed.
"Ma'am, just a moment," the man said, stepping toward a display window. "Let me put on the news on one of these TVs. You need to see this for yourself."