honeybee || jong gun

i

Sometimes, when someones adrenaline and cortisol levels are too high, it can induce slight memory loss. You never thought of yourself to be an anxious person, and you've never experienced a rush of adrenaline like what happened that night.

Here you were, laying in your bed as you thought about it.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't remember what happened when that man---Gun---walked into the room. Every time you thought about it, it felt as though the memory was snatched away, or locked behind a barrier that you couldn't get into.

You had to have fallen asleep at some point, because your alarm woke you up and dragged you into a drowsy state. You looked around, taking in the state of your bedroom, noticing things you had no idea were there before. It's been a few days since that night, and every single thing interested you. 

Your floors were a light brown, and your walls were a vague purple, though the paint was chipping and revealing the white plaster underneath. The navy blue of your school blazer was a deep color, and the mechanical pencils you used were an ugly combination of pink and green, strawberries were red and oranges were (and this one made you laugh) orange.

You stood up from your bed and walked over to where your desk was at. There was a scattering of papers, attempts after attempts of you trying to capture the man from that night. Every single one of them was wrong, somehow, and you've been trying to figure out what it could be.

You picked up one of the papers, staring at it as you tried to imagine him in your head. In this paper, you got his face wrong. His chin was a bit more angled and his lips were a bit more down turned, maybe even a bit pouty.

You ran a hand down your face, dropping the paper on the desk. It doesn't really matter anyway, as you planned on never seeing him again.

The window creaked as you opened it slightly, allowing for some more airflow in the tiny room. Making sure your blinds were in place, you set on getting dressed and making sure your school bag had everything in it. The walk to school was a short one, but it allowed for some time to think.

You weren't sure what to do now. You supposed that you would go on living life as though you had never met him, but would he do the same? You hoped he would. You didn't want to have anything to do with the faux blond that came through first, just looking at him was enough to freak you out. And, besides, you---

"Hey!" your name slipped out of Mae's mouth as she ran to catch up to you. She grabbed the sleeve of your blazer, and was taking deep breathes, one hand on her knee as she did so.

You chuckled, "You could have just called for me, I would have waited for you to catch up."

"Jesus, I really..." she gasped, looking up at the sky, "really need to try harder in P.E. But!!" She grabbed onto your shoulders, "I really need to talk to you. Privately."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Um... what about?" the longer you looked at her face, the more concerned you grew. She looked extremely worried, and her hands were shaking as she held onto you.

"You remember karaoke? When those two guys came in?" she questioned.

"Vaguely, I don't remember what they did or said, I just remember us leaving afterward."

"Ah... well, I can... fill you in later," she faltered. "But one of them, the uhh.... black haired one, not the blond-- grey haired one," she corrected herself and that's when you remembered.

Shit, I never told Mae about the colors.

"He's been tracking down? or looking for everyone that was there that night, and," Mae looked around, as though she thought someone was watching you two, "he's been asking them about colors."