The REPLAY of SKZ: Let's Go Back to Those Times

Chapter 3 - Chris

My eyes shoot open, shocking me out of my dream state. I immediately regret it, the searing light of the sun is quite unforgivable. Trying again, I go slower, my pupils peering through my lashes, dilating and trying to hide from the sun. Soon, my other senses are also upon me as well. Smell. Taste. Hear. Feel.

It smells really bad, like dumpster alley bad. Or, like a meal of reeking spoiled milk and expired chicken with a side of tasty rotten eggs.

I can hear cars in the distance... except it's not exactly in the distance. If I didn't know better, then I would say I was on the road.

It's a little windy here, and it sounds like something's skittering around. My fan?... I don't have a fan though.

I can taste my morning breath. It makes me want to go get up and brush my teeth, but it's too bright for that yet.

There's a pressure on my side too, and all around my hips. My back is killing me. So is my head, but with no recollection of what happened, I can't say I'm not surprised. Was I drinking? I mean, there are many reasons why you can't remember the night before. Maybe I fell asleep on the floor... after getting drunk... with the window open... this is so weird. Why is the sun this bright again?

Finally able to around without scrunching up my eyes too badly, I notice that this doesn't look like my room. Realization hits me. Holy shit. I'm outside. In a dumpster alley. I sit up and widen my eyes completely, not caring about the painfully bright sun. Stiffening, I belatedly notice that there is a person hugging my hips. Their arms are draped over my midsection and their legs are tangled with mine. At least they're clothed. With that, I breath in a little. Don't panic. It's okay. It's all gonna be okay. Just- what the fuck happened last night...? The rusty cogs of my brain try to turn, but to no avail.

Deciding that the next best thing I could do was at least see who is sleeping next to me, crossing my fingers for it not to be a crazed fan. Turning their head slightly, I recognized the face immediately, but that didn't stop any confusion at the oddity of the situation. Why was I sleeping with Woojin? I mean we may talk from time to time, but usually we don't wake up in the same space (well not like this), stranded in an alley... especially with no memory and no sign of the kids around. Speaking of them, I should probably call... but maybe we wake Woojin up first...

"Hey... uh, Woojin. Wake up!" I shook him tenderly, before sighing and grabbing his shoulders and roughly pulling him back and forth. I called his name out a few times more. Thankfully, I was earned with a few groans.

"Wha...," was all he could muster. Soon, he noticed that he shouldn't be... wherever we are. His hair was smashed against the side of his face, some parts sticking up and others outwards. I doubted I look much better. His grey sweatpants looked to be fully wet, the morning dew now on his body. His shirt seemed to be drier, a light-looking, mint-green, rough-material tee. Although his whole front was smushed into my side. My own clothing was damp, but since it was all black it wasn't as noticeable.

"Chan? Is that you?" He blinked his eyes open, before giving up and deciding to rub his eyes to get rid of the sleepies (A/N: Those green little boogers you get in your eyes).

"Yeah." I respond.

"Where are we?"

"I have no idea. In fact, I have no idea where any of the kids are either."

"Shit. Call them."

"Yeah. Give me a sec."

I check my pockets hoping to find phone. Scarily enough, it's not there. I start feeling up my body, but it's not on me. "Woojin, do you have your phone?" He, unlike me, doesn't have pockets. Anywhere. Either way, he still checks. Alas, he shakes his head, which makes me even more paranoid. Then he goes back to making himself more presentable. Placing strands of hair back in place, straightening ruffled clothes.