boy in seoul

chapter one

"Good night, everyone."

The last souls in the office raised their heads, nodded, and went back to work. At 10 pm the open-space office was still full. Dozens of black-haired heads hung low over their desks. The sound of typing on keyboards echoed through the dimly lit room.

Marc was glad he could go home. He didn't even know why he always stayed this long. He didn't particularly like his job and he didn't get paid for the additional hours he spent in front of the computer.

Slowly he dragged his feet over the floor into an elevator. He sighed when the doors closed shielding him from the outside world. For a moment everything outside this box stopped existing. He let himself fall against the mirrors which coated the elevator. Relief washed over him but at the same time, this heavy force dragged his mood further down. Just a moment of boredom could do that to him.

Eventually, the elevator stopped moving and the doors opened. Time to exit the elevator. Marc put on a smile for the guard and the receptionist and wished both a beautiful evening. A second later the noise of the biggest business district in Seoul surrounded him.

The sounds of cars rushing by blended in with the constant chatting of people around him. For Marc, it was just white noise. Something he ignored.

He moved with the stream of people rushing toward the next subway station trying to escape the cold night air. The coldest months were over but March in Korea was still freezing. The bright lights of the entrance to the underground complex promised warmth. Just another traffic light and Marc could unbutton his coat again.

The cars drove past him and the dozen other people. All waiting for the traffic light to turn green.

Suddenly he heard a silent sob. Against all the other familiar sounds it stood out. So much so that Marc turned his head toward it. It wasn't hard to make out that the sob came from the person next to him.

The stranger stood hunched against the traffic light. It was a guy judging by the wide shoulders and the clothes. He had a white t-shirt on and his shoulders trembled. The right hand was clenched into a fist. From this angle, Marc couldn't see his face but even with another angle, he wouldn't be able to see more. The guy had a mask on and a cap pulled down into his face. It was hard to make out the age of the guy. His attire was youthful but above all, it was not keeping him warm. What was he doing out in the cold with just a t-shirt?

Suddenly the stranger started walking and Marc wanted to follow but when he looked forward to the street, he noticed the traffic light was still red. He stopped. The stranger didn't.

In a quick motion, Marc reached out and got hold of the stranger's shirt pulling him away from the flow of cars. The guy stumbled back and fell to the ground.

Shocked the guy looked up. When he noticed what had almost happened the sobs became louder and the trembling worse. People around started looking at the crying human sitting at the side of the street. Marc didn't know what to do. So he bent down and asked:

"Can I help you?" Marc tried to make it sound as friendly as possible not knowing the age of the guy.

He waited for a moment but no answer came. He wanted to ask again when the lights turned green and people started to move. Quickly Marc helped the guy up and dragged him away from the street. Didn't want the guy to be run over by overworked business people desperate to go home.

He sat the guy down on a nearby bench, still clueless as to what was happening and a little annoyed by the situation he was in.

Suddenly a phone started ringing. Marc looked down. Next to his shoe lied a phone. Marc looked around but no one close to him seemed to care about the ringing. So Marc picked it up. The display saying 'Dang' was calling. Maybe it belonged to the guy he just dragged over? In the hope, whoever was on the other line could help, Marc answered the call. But before he could say a word he was attacked by an aggressive voice: