The Last Mission | Markhyuck

7.

Strangers.

Why do we call other people strangers? What is it about them that feels so strange? Aren't they the same as us? Breathing, two-legged beings? Or is it because we do not understand them? But why don't we understand- how is it someone who looks the same as you, works, sleeps, and eats' the same way so difficult to understand?

Yet if we do at least this much, then they shouldn't be called strangers, should they?

Even though billions of us function the same way, perhaps our way of thinking makes us seem better than the other... so others in our eyes seem a little strange, that we end up calling them strangers, don't we all?

But how is it that these very strangers turn into someone we love only because they look or do something that is close to our liking? Why is it so difficult for us to love someone who we don't understand or who is completely opposite to our taste in life and in the choices we make?

Why is it that when an elder man tries to interact with your kid it seems so strange that we find it better to change our seats, when his intentions can be pure? But when a young guy, like me, pretends to not care seems reachable, when perhaps he's someone who murders people like you for a living?

Violent sun rays blinded my eyes going down the escalator. The airport was crowded early in the morning. I was wondering how will I manage to find this Daniel guy. Xiao Ling had not replied to any of my messages, hell none were even delivered. Was this guy going to ignore me completely? Did not expect zero silence from the guy.

I managed to walk out and grab the taxi to the main bazar. Getting directions from the locals, I came across a bunch of people crowded in a place watching some roosters fight for god knows what. These people really had too much time and money on their hands to spend so freely.

Sighning out loud as I fixed my suit in this damn hot weather, some chunck of a guy in a holiday shirt with too short of shorts stopped dead in tracks right under my nose. The button on it were holding on for dear life and to say the way the material looked it seemed like it won't be long til they might give up. The guy fixed his straw hat and began his first words after scanning me head to toe. Not like I just didn't do the same but whatever.

Strangers are suppose to be strange after all.

'Ni hao?', spoke with an awkward accent.

Fucks sake.

'I can speak English,' so much for a first trip. Man laughed. Amused with succeeding in his attempt to annoy me. 'And I'm fucking Korean.'

'Relax, I'm only kidding,' man reached his hand towards my face hoping for the lame joke to not be taken seriously 'Daniel,'

I raised a brow. Towering over the guy as I stood up. I never shook his hand and began questioning him for what I came here for. 'You were suppose to pick me up from the airport?'

'Ah, no pick ups.' Denied the service shaking his hands in the air violently. 'Too much traffic you see.'

I nodded. There was not much to say. 'The kid-'

'Come on, not here. And you should relax a bit first,'

Man watched my face in an odd denial as if those were really the words that just came out of my mouth after a flight? Yet to say the least I couldn't wait another second after what I came for. I had no idea if he was okay? Hell if he was even alive?

'No, no I don't have time to relax,'

'Okay, fine. We can sit down for it, yes? But I must ask first..' he rubbed his thumb and forefinger a couple of times. So much for not saying anything here. I took out a grand rolled in a rubber band. Shorty here took out a pouch from somewhere on him and asked to drop it in. I signed heavily dropping the cash inside.