lost episodes | choi yeonjun

1

FIVE PAST SEVEN and there was still no reply to the text Choi Yeonjun sent to Hwan. The former sat on the benches placed outside the media department's building. 

His name tag sulked on his t-shirt just like his face did when even after his working hours ended, there was no message from his friend.

The next morning, Yeonjun stood at the subway station with nothing but confusion filling up his mind. His luggage rested near his shaking legs while his phone rang up Hwan continuously.

"Mate! Look to your right!"

His friend's voice echoed across the platform when he sprinted next to Yeonjun, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees. 

Hwan was a handsome man in his early 30s. He had sharp hazel eyes that reflected the urban sophistication of his father's London origin. His dark brown hair spread over his forehead, framing his face with masculinity. In conclusion, he carried the dynamic of the city. 

"You do everything but pick up the phone. Why?" 

"I was sick last night. It was really bad."

When the train had finally arrived, they walked in. 

As the youngest members in the media department, Yeonjun and Hwan were mostly out in the field, travelling from place to place and collecting interesting journals across Seoul. Now working under Mrs Jun, they were engaged in collecting old films for the 'Media Archaeology' segment of their partnered newspaper. 

Hours passed with Hwan long asleep on his co-worker's shoulder. Yeonjun was starting to feel a little rise in Hwan's body temperature and instability in his breathing by the time the train stopped at Gyeonhwa.

3 more hours left.

Jeongmyeong arrived at around the blue hour. Yeonjun offered to carry Hwan's bag while the boy tried getting a cab that could drive them to their booked stay area. But when the huge lights flickered on, a deserted train station met their line of sight. 

The air was heavy with the scent of aged paper and decades-old memories. It was as if the town was frozen in nostalgia. Dust particles danced in the last bits of sunlight that seeped through the horizon. 

"Um, should we walk?" Hwan asked, getting his luggage back from Yeonjun.

"How long can we walk anyway? It's gonna be dark soon."

"Sil-a said she arranged for a driver, right?"

"Did she?" Yeonjun stretched his legs and neck while sitting on the closest set of chairs next to him. While the evening grew colder and darker, he could only worry about Hwan who stood with his mobile screen's brightness lighting up his face. 

Chirps of crickets rose and ringing tinnitus soon faded away, but there still was no way or nobody to help the men out. 

Around 10 P.M, they found themselves in a bus that rumbled down the winding road. Its headlights pierced the gathering darkness and reflected off the rain-streaked windows. 

At this hour, Yeonjun could only see a handful of the town-dwellers in the bus. In the middle of the sounds of hushed laughter, intermingled with the Hwan's light snores, he pulled out a mini blanket from his bag, trying to cover both of them from the cold.

They pulled up to a lone stop where a small gathering of houses stood, adorned with ivy and time-worn charm. The driver offered a nod and departed away into the night.

"Now we can walk. The hotel's about 10 minutes away." Hwan coughed out.