Mystic Song

Chapter I

I stare at the phone for a good couple of minutes and try to recall-

Whose number is this?

But all I get is blank. What put me more on edge was the fact that only a select few have my number.

Maybe, just maybe, it's a wrong number.

But that can't be right.

I can hear it. The sound of my heartbeat blocking out the other noises. This can't be just another wrong number.

The air hostess comes up to me and asks if there's something wrong.

I exhale.

My eyes dart from seat to seat and then to her face. Almost everyone had exited the plane.

I shake my head and hurry out.

At the terminal, my eyes wander around the structure. Studying each face and expression carefully. What I'm looking for, not sure. Maybe I'll get lucky and catch someone staring, someone following me? Maybe even catch someone keeping an eye on me through the cutout holes on their newspaper- if newspapers were still a thing.  Something about that message rubbed me the wrong way. Was it a warning or a threat?

It feels like a threat.

My gaze falls on the crowd gathering near one of the exits. I stay where I am and squint to try and read one of the signs. Monika…

“Ugh.” I groan, pulling out my phone. The message still on my active view. I force close the messaging app and scan through my contacts.

“I'll just wait here then.” I take a seat and get as comfy as I can.

|| In-su ||

The phone rings.

And rings.

*Click*

Hey, I'm on my way.

Oh. Okay.

Did you have a nice flight?

Can't you get in trouble for talking and driving?

Ohkay… Well, I-

Look. I don't want you to get in trouble because of me. I just wanted to know if you were coming.

So, please hang up. We'll talk when you get here, k?

Fine.

*Click*

I put my earbuds in and start playing some tunes to get my mind off everything I have ahead of me and that includes visually. The person at the center of that large crowd of fans is Monika Ateall. One of the top skaters in this competition and kind of my rival.

Hey, I didn't start it, she did.

The moment I ranked number 9, a series of subtly spoken offenses was thrown at me. Ridiculing my form, my experience, and my look…?

I know it's unconventional and it's not the norm, but my mask is part of my performance, part of the identity I hold in every competition. You can not make fun of who I choose to be. I have my reasons for wearing a mask, reasons I don't have to explain to anyone.

The funny thing is- I've never even talked to Monika. So, she has no other reason to despise me other than because she's threatened by me.

Threatened…