My alarm blared to life, piercing the silence with its incessant beeping. I groggily reached over to silence it, rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes. "Ugh, why does my head hurt so much?" I muttered, trying to recall the dream that had left me with this pounding headache. But it was hazy, fragmented, and filled with an unsettling sense of fear.
I glanced at the clock: 8:35 am. Saturday. I had to get moving if I wanted to make it to the office on time. I hastily got ready, skipping breakfast in my rush. As I rushed out the door, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and winced. I looked disheveled, and my hair was still damp from the quick shower I'd managed to squeeze in.
The train was packed, and I found myself squashed between strangers, anxiously checking my watch every few minutes. 9:20 am. Ten minutes to spare. I breathed a sigh of relief as the train lurched forward, but my mind began to wander. Had I brushed my teeth? I discreetly covered my mouth with my hand, trying to recall. Ugh, my breath was terrible. I made a mental note to keep a safe distance from my colleagues.
As I arrived at the office, I dragged my feet to my desk, bracing myself for a lecture from the team leader. But to my surprise, he barely acknowledged me, looking away as our eyes met. My colleague, Yoo Woo, whispered, "Seems like you're in luck today." I forced a smile, still wary, and got back to work.
The morning flew by in a blur, but as lunch approached, my headache returned with a vengeance. I tried to massage it away, but it only seemed to intensify. And then, like a bolt out of the blue, three words popped into my head: "His All Yours." I frowned, trying to make sense of them. More words followed: "Gummy Bear Wants to Use The Bathroom." What did they mean? I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the work in front of me.
Finally, the day drew to a close. I trudged home, exhausted, and collapsed onto my bed, letting sleep claim me once more.
