A Crazy Little Thing Called Imagination // Hyunlix

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Morning. Light. Blinding light.

Its all a very unpleasant experience in the morning, waking up and immediately getting blinded by the very unusually timed sunshine.

It was late September, September is not a month when the sun should be shining so incredibly brightly.

Instead, it should be the opposite. It should be grey and dark, with certainly not enough light to get you admitted to the nearest hospital because the cornea of your eye is severely damaged by the ball of unnecessarily bright gas in the sky.

It was so bright, the light was shining through the large floor to ceiling curtains in Hyunjins Hotel room, and it was not welcomed.

He felt like he was being scorched alive, like the skin on his body was slowly melting, like that one scene in Indiana Jones and the raiders of the lost arc when the peoples faces melt, or in the last crusade when that guy chooses the wrong cup.

He may have been exaggerating a little, however, because it really wasn't that bright. Sure, it was bright for being September, but you'd live.

He's just used to the dark, and too much light makes his eyes a little sensitive, that's all.

Shutting his eyes as tight as he could, he sat up, kicking his legs off the edge of the bed and (very reluctantly) standing up.

He felt like shit, as he did every other morning, but this one in particular.

His dream was certainly unsettling, it was a rather detailed depiction of him getting murdered.

Over and over.

(He also fell off a cliff by accident once, but like I said, accident)

Opening his eyes the slightest bit to see where he was going, he stumbled over to the curtains, and ripped them open.

He may have felt like shit but he appreciated nature.

He ever so slowly pried his eyes open more as time went on, standing at the window while the early morning sun cast a golden hue throughout the room.

If someone happened to walk by while he was standing there, they'd either think he was insane, or an angel was descending from heaven.

He himself however, guessed the majority would pick insane.

Once his eyes had adjusted to the light, he turned around and walked ever so slowly into the bathroom to get ready.

He didn't bother checking the time, but since there was no constant knocking at his door, or phone calls, he assumed he was awake early enough not to be flipped upside down, twisted round and thrown to the shops.

He showered and changed into his clothes, emptying his bag on the floor so he could carry it around with him.

He picked up the keycard he had previously left on a shelf, and stored it in his pocket for safe keeping, finally going to his phone afterwards.

There were no notifications or endless amounts of dialed calls, which meant he was either super super super dead and his parents already knew, or they hadn't found out yet.

He was praying to God they haven't found out, because he wasn't sure if he'd be able to cope if they did, he'd be in deep shit.

Setting his phone down on the bed, he searched through the front pocket of his bag, gradually pulling out the tangled headphones that were probably getting crushed the entire drive up.

Throwing his bag to the side, he began to unwind the twisting wires of his headphones, muttering some quick swears under his breath here and there at the over-complicated nature of it all.