Chapter 2

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AN: I had over half the chapter ready when I posted the first one, but then life, school and my dog got in the way. A quick note: my knowledge in aviation is very basic. I did some research but I'll not go into specifics for the story because I simply do not know enough to do that haha but for fiction's sake, let's just get on with it. I hope you really enjoy this one :) Thank you for reading and don't forget to let me know your thoughts!

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Se-ri woke to the sound of waves.

It was a very slow awakening - one that she heard things before she truly realized she was awakening. Seagulls, she could make out. Waves, wind. And then she felt warmth all over, and when she tried to move around her bed she was met with some hard surface - but she barely made that out upon the sudden pain in her head, arms and back. Was there anything that didn't hurt? Se-ri opened her eyes.

She wasn't in her bed, that was for sure. She was inside some miserable wooden shack. There were holes on the walls, enough that let her know it was sunny outside. She sat up, moaning at the pain in her neck, bringing a hand to massage it. At least she was moving, that had to be a good thing.

"Ah," Se-ri groaned as she saw what could only be a bandage made out with a shirt around her left knee. "What the hell happened?"

She closed her eyes, trying to remember. She was in Okinawa the day before. She fought with her father and Se-joon. Mr. Hong found a way for her to come back to Seoul earlier... she boarded the plane. The pilot was her type. Yes, she remembered that. Why didn't she remember the flight? Did her pills take her so out of it that she got unconscious and ended up... nowhere?

She looked around. There wasn't much to begin with. The makeshift bed she was in, two quilts that had certainly seen better days. Her sandals were on the corner, incredibly intact. She'd have to thank her team later. There were no windows, which only meant this had to be some sort of really small warehouse. On a beach, judging by the sounds she was still hearing.

Se-ri stood up slowly, grimacing at the pain on her knee, and noticed for the first time a jacket and a pair of shoes - men shoes, at that - near the door. Before she could comprehend it, however, the door opened.

Se-ri instinctively closed her eyes and leaned her back against the wall, not knowing who or what to expect, until...

"Are you okay?" A clear voice asked her.

She opened her eyes. The pilot, Mr. Ri, stood by the door, clad in the same dark jeans he wore during the flight, white socks — that were now grey — and a white undershirt that clung to his body in a very nice way that Se-ri would have appreciated if she wasn't in such a weird situation.

"Where are we?" She asked, voice trembling. "This isn't Seoul. Where did we crash?"

Mr. Ri blinked. "We didn't crash, we..."

"We did not descend, why am I sore all over? Why is my knee wounded? What is this place? Where are we? What time is it? I told you I have to be in Seoul by eight—"

"Will you let me answer?" He interrupted.

Se-ri hated being interrupted, but this was an extreme situation, so she nodded.

"We descended. I was able to land us but you bumped your head on our way down. I think your seatbelt was a little loose. I should have checked it myself," Mr. Ri said. "Our landing was a little harsh, so we had to get out quickly. Your sandals stuck on the panel as I tried to get you. You scraped your knee in the process."

Se-ri ran a hand through her hair, nodding.

"It's Sunday morning. 6 am, to be exact," he continued. Se-ri was about to protest, but he didn't let her. "We're on an abandoned fishing cabin, I think. Everything looks dated. On an island between Japan and Korea."

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