Catalyst

Part 1

I was standing at the bank of mailboxes outside my apartment building, searching for my mailbox key, when I felt something brush against my leg. I jumped letting out a small, but very girly scream. Upon seeing my neighbor Hobi's orange cat, I let out a sigh of relief.

"Aish! You got me, Stanley." Shaking my head, I bent down to scratch him between the ears.

"What are you doing outside, buddy?" He purred and continued rubbing against my legs. I noticed my neighbor's car was gone. Stanley was an inside cat, but he would manage to escape on occasion.

Finding my mailbox key, I collected my mail, and picked up Stanley. I decided to bring him inside until Hobi came home.

I had just finished sorting through my mail when there was an authoritative knock on the door. I wasn't expecting anyone, and with the recent wave of violent crime in the city, I was weary about opening the door. Checking the peephole first, I saw two large men in black suits standing on my doorstep. I unlocked the door and deadbolt, but left the chain on, just in case.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

One of the men shoved a flyer through the small gap left by the chain. "Have you seen this man, ma'am?"

Ma'am? Seriously? As a young woman of 27, nothing pissed me off faster than being referred to as ma'am. I was clearly a Miss!

I glanced at the photo of a very handsome man with plump lips and dyed orange hair. "No, I have not. What has he done?"

"He is wanted for questioning in an open investigation," the man who ma'am-ed me said.

"Is he dangerous?" I asked. "Is there reason to believe he is in this neighborhood?"

The two men were not expecting my questions, and there was a brief silence before the second man leaned his face closer to mine.

"Yes, he is very dangerous. If you see him, it is in your best interest to call the number on that paper immediately. Do not approach him." The man gave me what I took as a menacing smile, and turned to leave. The first man nodded at me and followed his colleague.

I closed and locked the door, before studying the flyer.

Jimin Park. Age 24. Height, weight, blah, blah, blah. No mention of what he was wanted for other than "questioning."

The whole interaction with the two men struck me as odd. They did not seem like typical police officers. Not that I knew what a detective would look like, but something was off. They gave me a 'Men in Black' vibe.

I decided to look online in hopes I would find more information. There was nothing. Not even a social media account.

Checking the phone number listed on the flyer only caused more questions. Rather than the number being linked to the local police department, it came back as being listed with Kronos Technology Labs. A local biotech company that had been rapidly expanding over the past few years. I wasn't exactly sure what they did, but they were always hiring lab techs according the radio ads.

I was checking out the homepage for Kronos Tech, when Stanley jumped into my lap.

"I forgot you were here, Stanley." I stroked his back for a few minutes before he hopped down. He meowed loudly and stared at me expectantly. I stood up and walked into the kitchen. 

"Are you hungry?" I didn't speak cat and had no idea what he wanted. "I have some tilapia in the freezer." 

I pulled out the fish and set the oven to preheat. 

Turning my attention back to Stanley, I found him standing on the kitchen counter, looking at the flyer. It looked like he was reading it. 

"No cats on the counter, buddy." I picked up Stanley and deposited him on the floor. He flopped over on his back and showed me his tummy. I couldn't remember if Stanley loved or hated belly rubs, but decided to risk it. 

I pulled out my phone and took a quick picture and sent it to Hobi. 

Hobi Jung: What a cutie! Looks just like Stanley. 

Y/N: It is Stanley. I found him by the mailboxes. 

Hobi Jung: He really looks like him, but Stanley's belly is white. And he's neutered. 

Y/N: Then who's cat is this? 

Hobi Jung: Looks like he's your cat now ;)

"Crap." I now had a cat.

With a sigh, I pulled out a glass baking dish for the fish and put it on the counter. "Okay, Not-Stanley, who are you and who do you belong to?" 

I walked into the living room to wait while the oven got up to temp, and froze mid-step. There was a man on my couch. A handsome man, but a man I did not give permission to be in my apartment. His full lips pulled back into a sweet smile, and he ran a hand through his dyed orange hair. 

It was the man from the flyer. 

I had never fainted before, but there was a first time for everything.