Christopher Bang's Great Adventure

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'inspiration has departed' thought chan

he never usually thought such poetic thoughts; maybe it was the vodka.

he was currently hunched over his desk that was overflowing with rejected lyrics and ideas. chan had thought the alcohol would help. it did not.

he felt quite lonely. he missed his members though he'd seen them only 6 hours ago. hold on, it'd been 6 hours? hm. normally chan was quite good at paying attention. it was probably the vodka. maybe that was a mistake.

he yawned and stretched. his limbs felt like they were being reborn when he got up.

with a few stumbles (precisely 3. yes, he'd counted), he finally reached the door.

'i'd like a milkshake. maybe i'll even get a chocolate chip muffin.' he thought again. everytime he tried to talk, quite an audible hiccup left his chapped lips.

damn, he'd left the vodka. should he saunter back to his studio, or stumble home? 

it was like playing one of those choose your own adventure books that he'd prayed to in his youth. but unlike the books, chan chose neither, and decided to sit on a swing in a playground.

since when did he get to a playground? maybe he'd fallen asleep. 

so many maybes.. chan thought once again. did that count as alliteration? what was it with all these poetic thoughts? maybe edgar allen poe had possessed him. that'd explain why he'd suddenly teleported into a playground with no explanation why.

suddenly, he had the urge to sit on the swing and start...well, swinging. and so he did exactly that.

he suddenly felt like he was five years old again. back in australia, feeling a warm gust of wind blow his hair messy as he swang higher and higher.

chan smiled widely and inhaled a deep breath of chilly korean air. this was perfect.

but wasn't that a kid? as far as he knew, kids weren't usually supposed to be out at...

he checked his watch.

4:00am

what?

the kid was crying, but silently it seemed, because chan couldn't hear a single noise coming from it. maybe his ears were damaged from all that vodka. I mean, it was a half a bottle.

suddenly, a choked sob escaped the kid. it seemed to be a boy.

chan felt sad all of a sudden.

"why are you out so late? that was the first sentence he'd uttered all night that wasn't interrupted by a hiccup.

the boy looked up from his palms. his face was wet and shining in the light from the moon, the tear tracks on his cheeks were all too visible.

"d'you wanna swing with me?" chan wasn't sure why he'd asked this or if the boy would even trust him, but the boy nodded slowly, and hesitantly walked to where chan was and sat on the swing beside him.

"are you lost?" chan asked carefully.

the boy nodded again. even the nod seemed sad.

"what happened?" chan was trying his best not to come off as creepy.

"i-i was playing with my friend on the slide and he went to go get ice cream and i went to look for mommy but she- she was gone!" he had burst tears at this point. full on, inconsolable sobs that made chan's heart shatter.

he'd never been good at comforting people unfortunately, and could only watch as the boy sobbed into his small palms.

"what's your name?" chan finally spoke.

"jeo sujin" sujin has stopped crying by now but a steady stream of tears was still running down his red face.

chan gingerly wiped sujin's face with his sleeve.

"cmon, let's see if we can find your mom." chan said softly with a police station in mind. sujin's mom wasn't coming back. not if he'd been here this long.

with a small sigh, he took sujin by the hand and lead him away from the playground. 

and with a heavy heart, he left sujin at the police station with a friendly female officer who'd given both of them cookies (he'd given his to sujin and sujin had finally smiled that night).

chan stuffed his ice-cold hands into his jean pockets.

maybe the vodka had been a good idea.

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