"If the world is ever going to turn against you," you had whispered. "You know who to run to."
He nodded, kissing your nose.
It was all that he ever known.
"You."
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You woke Jeno up. It was the day you'd be traveling and as you both left for breakfast, you dragged the luggage to the front desk to check out. You'd have a van travel to Boom for the both of you, Jeno and you walking down the street as both of you discussed what to eat.
You expected it to be a normal day and you stood in front of the restaurant, rummaging through the bag when there was a sound of a motorcycle. You did not think much of it when suddenly there was a slam and you found yourself toppling backwards—your bag had been snatched.
It took a while to register, Jeno gasping as he realized what had happened. He had ran forward, trying to chase the motorcycle when he turned back and ran towards you... You were bleeding and he cursed.
You had heard a few stories of bag snatchers but you did not expect it to happen to you. Your passports, the wallets and everything was in that bag.
You were both fucked.
But both of you had your phones.
Needless to say, you were apologetic but Jeno said that it was good that you weren't dead. He knew some people ended up dead because some of them had knives and he checked you when it sunk that you wouldn't be able to pay the van.
"Police first," you told him and he nodded. Stress was beginning to settle and it was tense as the police questioned you. You decided to try to contact Doyoung and send him the police report so he could cancel your credit cards and debit—sending Jeno's card along with him.
Doyoung was big help and both of you were directed to the Korean Embassy. You were never going to make it in time, you thought, but Jeno didn't seem very worried about the festival anymore.
The Korean Embassy was a few feet away since you were both in the main city and as you began to process the documents, you heard a rumble and a man took a seat beside you and Jeno. He was wearing a flappy oversized gray shirt and had a bunch of necklaces dangling around his neck.
The guy was jingling. He was a walking tambourine.
His pants were tye-die and his shoes were bright pink. The colors were shocking and he held a guitar.
He cleared his throat and turned to look at both you and Jeno, the male breaking into a smile.
"Korean?" he asked and you nodded dully, Jeno's hand on your lap. "Oh, nice. I'm Korean, too."
No shit. It was the Korean Embassy. You were in a foul mood but despite that fact, you gave him a smile.
"Are you busking?" Jeno asked from beside you and you saw that Jeno's eyes were on the guy's guitar.
"Yes. Mark Lee. I'm a singer." He smiled and motioned to the guitar. "I'm in a two-man band. We're called 'Watermelon on a Sunny Day'."
"Watermelon on a sunny day..." you chuckled, finding it cute. "A two-man band? What does the other person play?"
