Changbin leans back, and a minute or two of silence ensues, with the ambient sounds of a distant city gently permeating the room. The soft hum of an old refrigerator, the occasional creak of floorboards under the weight of unseen movements, and the rhythmic tick-tock of a vintage clock create a backdrop for the unfolding conversation.
A dim light filters through half-closed curtains, casting a muted glow on the worn-out furniture and the eclectic collection of vinyl records that adorn the shelves. Dust particles dance lazily in the air, catching the light as if mirroring the uncertain thoughts flickering across Chan's face.
Suddenly, Changbin recalls something, breaking the silence like a distant echo. "Though if we're going for this obsessive writing-down-all-messages thing... some American girl named Y/n called a few days ago."
Chan freezes, and his eyes, momentarily lost in contemplation, gradually shift to meet Changbin's. The room feels charged with unspoken tension, an anticipation of revelations. "W-What did she say?" Shuttering, Chan's gaze pierces Changbin, who is obliviously trying to recall the message.
"Well, it was genuinely bizarre... she said, hi... it's Y/n... and then she said, call me at the Ritz... and then gave herself a completely different name." / "Which was?"
Silence hangs in the air, and the surroundings seem to hush, allowing only the muffled sounds of distant traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves to intrude. Chan glares at his flatmate, who struggles to remember the elusive name. The room, with its vintage charm, becomes a silent observer of the unraveling mystery.
The scene swiftly shifts to the living room, where Chan is on the phone, addressing a formal man on the other end. The antiquated ticking of the clock accentuates the tension in the room. "May I help you, sir?"
"Um, look, this is a very odd situation. I'm a friend of Y/n Scott's... and she rang me at home the day before yesterday... and left a message saying she's staying with you..." Chan's eyes shoot daggers at Changbin's back.
The room takes on an eerie atmosphere. Changbin remains oblivious, absorbed in reading the newspaper. The paper crinkles softly as he turns a page, and the air seems thick with suspense. "I'm sorry, we don't have anyone of that name here, sir."
"No, that's right... I know that. She said she's using another name... but the problem is she left the message with my flatmate, which was a serious mistake... Imagine if you met the stupidest person you've ever met... are you doing that...?"
Going off-topic, Chan attempts to convey the gravity of the situation, and the room listens in silent witness. "Yes, sir. I have him in my mind."
"And then double it... and that is the... what can I say... git I'm living with and he cannot remember..." Chan despairs until Changbin, still not looking behind him, suggests, "Try 'Flinstone.'"
Chan, having missed the suggestion, seeks clarification, "What?" / "I think she said her name was 'Flinstone.'"
Chan contemplates for a moment, realizing this could be the key. The room, adorned with vintage artifacts, appears frozen in time as if holding its breath for the impending revelation. "Does 'Flinstone' mean anything to you?"
"I'll put you right through, sir." 'Flinstone' proves to be the magic word, and the room, with its nostalgic charm, seems to exhale a collective sigh of relief. Chan, now thoroughly intrigued, prepares himself for the awaited call with Y/n.
"Oh hi. It's Bang Chan. We, um... I work in a record shop." / "You played it pretty cool here, waiting for three days to call."
"N-No! I've never played anything cool in my entire life. Changbin, who I'll stab to death later, never gave me the message." / "Oh... Okay."
"Perhaps I could drop round for... tea or something?" / "Yeah ...unfortunately, things are going to be pretty busy, but... okay, let's give it a try. Four o'clock could be good."
The day arrives, and Chan takes the red bus, his hands gripping the outside pole as he navigates toward the Ritz, carrying a small bunch of roses. The antique charm of the room transitions into the bustling atmosphere of the city. The soft rumble of engines, the distant chatter of pedestrians, and the occasional honk of horns replace the previous tranquility.
In the luxurious hotel, he feels somewhat out of place but heads to the lifts. The soft carpet under his shoes absorbs the sound of his steps as he moves, creating an almost surreal sense of detachment from the busy world outside. The soft jazz playing in the background adds a touch of elegance to the ambiance.
As he approaches the lifts, the golden glow of the ornate fixtures contrasts with the subtle hues of the carpet, creating a scene reminiscent of a classic film. He presses the button, and the doors open, revealing a gleaming interior that echoes the sophistication of the hotel.
In the lift, they exchange floor numbers, and when the doors open, they both walk side by side, searching for the room numbers. The plush carpet beneath their feet muffles their footsteps, creating a hushed atmosphere. The soft murmurs of other guests and the distant sounds of a piano playing in the lobby blend seamlessly with the ambiance.
Chan, holding a slight sense of confusion, stops at room 38, and so does Tarquin. The tension rises as they both point at the same number, leading Chan to ask the nagging question, "Are you sure you...?"
"Yes." / "Oh. Right..." Chan knocks on the door, expecting Y/n's appearance but is met by a bright, well-tailored American girl named Karen. The room, now transitioning into a luxurious suite, exudes opulence with its exquisite furnishings and expansive space. She hands them press kits for Y/n's film, "Helix," and invites them into the main waiting room.
The room, now transformed into a space of anticipation, features a blend of modern elegance and classic luxury. The soft glow of ambient lighting complements the sleek lines of contemporary furniture, creating an atmosphere that mirrors the glamorous world of cinema.
There, they find a group of journalists, their conversations a subtle hum that adds to the anticipation. Chan, now thoroughly confused about the situation, tries to answer Karen's questions about the film, joined by Tarquin. The room, adorned with framed posters of Y/n's past films, serves as a silent witness to the unfolding drama.
Eventually, they both turn to Chan for his opinion, leaving him to nervously agree. When asked about his magazine, Chan improvises and a fabricated name. "Um, JYP's entertainment... Um, the name is Bang Chan. I think she might be expecting me." Karen accepts it, and they wait for Y/n's arrival.
Sitting with Tarquin by the window, the room's expansive glass panels offer a panoramic view of the city below, its glittering lights dancing in the evening twilight. The elegant curtains sway gently, casting fleeting shadows across the room.
Chan, now enveloped in the plush comfort of the waiting area, tries to compose himself for the awaited call with Y/n. The room, with its sophisticated décor and understated opulence, becomes a setting for a moment suspended in time.
As they wait, the young fellow opens up a subject with him, "You've brought her flowers?" Chan goes for the cover-up, again having to lie, he is holding the character as a journalist now not someone to meet for like a 'date'.
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