Arbitrage by fumerie

Arbitrage

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Kyungsoo wakes up to the rough scratch of asphalt concrete against his face and the damp earthy smell of drizzling rain assaulting his nose with every breath. This is the kind of rain that has been going on for days and weeks. Cold, musty, and weary. Spring rain. It hasn't rained like this in Seoul for a long time. His face hurts when his skin drags against the asphalt as he twitches and struggles to pull himself away from the ground. The pavement feels wet and cold under his fingertips. Rain drops sprinkle on the back of his head. His cheeks feel raw and tender. His bones ache. When he finally pulls himself up to a sitting position, the ground is mottled with dark spots and smears that don't quite look like rain. They seem to match the long bloody scratches on his hands. Kyungsoo hisses when rain drops hit the scraped open skin.

He can still hear the echo of his pounding heart, loud and insistent in the quiet air of the early morning. It's still early morning, he decides, looking at the pale grey colour of the sky. The streets are empty, doused with lingering sleep. It takes a while for his limbs to work again, fingers still curling in the last dredges of adrenaline. He has to take a few deep breaths, trying to decide where he is. The streets look familiar. A few blocks away from the garage. A few blocks away from his apartment. He keeps stumbling on his feet, but the walk doesn't feel all that long. The early joggers and salary workers barely glance at him when they pass by. The drizzling rain isn't enough to soak him through, but the cold dampness sends chills through his body, the weather seeping through the layers of his clothes.

The windows of the first room from the right on the second floor of his apartment building are open when he gets there. Kyungsoo stands at the feet of the building, looking up, staring at the open windows, feeling slightly bewildered and lost. There's a black Genesis Coupe parked just outside on the street. Kyungsoo walks over to the car, leaning against it, going over his options. His hand fumbles, taking out the wallet from his back pocket. Cash, cards, a polaroid hastily shoved in, a stack of receipts. Kyungsoo peels himself off the car, sparing one last glance at the open windows before turning and walking the other way.

He passes by a newspapers stand on his way. He picks up one, glancing over the headlines, and his grip falters when he looks at the top right corner of the paper, just above "Income Tax Rising by 2.4%" and "Mass Car Pile-up In Incheon's North Port". He carefully puts the newspapers back to its place. When he looks up, someone is staring at him from the lowered window of a blue Hyundai stopping at the side of the road.

"Hey." The driver smiles at him, "Want a ride? You look like you need one."

Kyungsoo shuffles on his feet. It's still raining. "I'm fine."

"Kyungsoo, right? I've seen you around the tracks. My name's Jongdae." The driver is still smiling, reaching out a hand through the car window in an offer of a handshake. Ingrained manners had him step forward and take it. "No, really, I insist. It's raining, and you look like you've just gotten out the better side of a car crash." Eyes flicker towards his scraped arms. Kyungsoo pulls his hand back. "I'll take you back to your place. No problem at all. Is it far from here?"

Kyungsoo bites down on his bottom lip. "I. It's okay. I kind of don't have a place at the moment." Code for he doesn't know where the hell he's going, really. Jongdae blinks at him, eyebrows raised.

"Oh."

Then somehow he ends up in the passenger seat of the Hyundai, sitting still with hands folded in his laps, careful not to smear blood on the car's interior as Jongdae periodically glances at him during the drive. Maybe he could help, Jongdae said. Kyungsoo considered his options. Weighing pros and cons and calculating in composite risk.