Bruised (Completed)

Chapter 8

Traffic is still horrible despite these late hours. Cars seem to rush by non-stop and swearing can be heard when the traffic lights turn red after just three cars cars have passed them.

With some effort I manage to get into a taxi and go to the police station. Whilst looking out the window at the city that flashes past me with its bright lights and night life, my concern grows bigger. I sigh and lean back. The more we get closer to our destination, the more the unrest in my mind increases. I do wonder what Taehyung has done to deserve this.

Now that I think about it, it is my second night in Busan and I am on the way to the police station to pick up somebody that I used to know and feels like a whole different person in this age.

***

It is quite a contrast from the noise outside when I enter the building. A radio is turned on, filling the room with soft melodies and pop music. The only other sounds are the rustling of papers and the typing of fingers on keyboards from further inside the edifice. Somehow it calms me down a bit. I do not know why, it may be because of the therapeutic effect.

I remember doing some administrational work for my father in the past and how relaxing it was to type away on a keyboard, progressing all sorts of data.

Not everybody can say that of course, since the people who do it as their job may find it an awful occupation. It is no wonder so many assistants quit in the past few years when you think of that.

I walk over to the front desk where a stern looking lady is busy organizing some documents. She looks up with austere forest green eyes when she notices my presence, but her gaze softens as she notices the unease in my attitude. 'Can I help you, miss?'

'I am here to pick up somebody, Kim Taehyung. Constable Han told me to come get him,' I answer, not able to keep the worry out of my voice as I speak.

Her eyes darken as I mention his name, followed by a sigh. 'Then you must be Alistaire Lawson. Hold on a second, I will go get him.'

I stare after her tough figure in wonder as she disappears into the hallway to the right. She made it sound as if he is a regular here. Taehyung is not a criminal, he cannot be. He is too gentle and good-willed to be a thug.

A moment later she returns, dragging my friend along. When they enter the hallway Tae raises his head. He has a rosy glow and his eyes do not seem to belong to him, shot with red as they are. Who is this? This is not my friend and yet at the same time he is.

He seems to find his footing again and stumbles over to me. 'Finally you're here,' he greets with a mockingly confident attitude. A waft of alcohol washes over me, almost causing me to gag.

The other woman looks at him with a slight disgust, but when her eyes shift to me, she looks as if she is feeling sorry for me. She hands me a paper and a pen. 'If you could sign this, then he is free to go.'

I put my signature down and hand her back the form. This certainly requires a talk later. 'Thank you. Have a good evening.'

'Take care,' she says with a strange look in her eyes as we walk out the door, onto the ever busy streets of Busan.

What a way to come back.

***

Getting a taxi proves to be more difficult than before with Tae half draped over me, so that I cannot gesture with my hand. After a couple of fruitless efforts, an older taxi driver is kind enough to pull up. 'Can I help you, young lady?'

'Thank you so much, sir. You are the first to stop.' I am exhausted, which feels more apparent when I hoist my drunk friend up lest he slips from my grasp.