When Evren attended his first day of school, he was absolutely thrilled and ecstatic. Why wouldn't he? He's finally getting to live like a normal teenager–attending classes daily and making new friends at school–it was something he has always dreamed of doing! Who knew his silly little daydreams would come true? Yet, with all the excitement rejuvenating his entire being, there was this foreboding, lingering sensation of dread that Evren swore was seeping deeply into his bones. He couldn't quite describe it and he didn't know why he was even feeling this way in the first place when it was literally his dream for his entire life! It confused him, his mind thrown in a chaotic state. It had been eating his brain alive ever since his family announced he was going to go to school. To solve this confusion, he pried into the reasons and what causes him to feel this way. He has never felt something like this before and he doesn't know if he should be even feeling like this, surely it's normal for a transferee like him to feel this way? Like how the main characters get all anxious when they transfer to a new school in the movies he watched? Yeah, it must be that. But after delving into the issue deeper, it could be because he doesn't exactly know what and how he should act like at school.
Sure, he has a fair idea of how schools work, how the school staff operates, and how a student should behave. He isn't even worried about his education. He learned how to write and read from a tutor that his parents hired for him since he couldn't physically go to school. His parents still wanted Evren to have a proper education despite the odds, for Evren to learn more about the world and to avoid ignorance that can put him in danger–hence, they hired a tutor and paid her handsomely. Everyday, his tutor would go visit him in the hospital and teach him several subjects–English, Math, Science, History, Literature and so forth–and of course, she did not teach these subjects all at once, she knew how it would only end up overwhelming Evren if she did so. She scheduled it adequately, around 3-4 subjects per day. She would frequently test Evren's knowledge and Evren always aced his tests much to her surprise. Evren's greatest forte, the tutor observed, were Literature and History–she could dare say that he is extremely talented in both of these subjects. She stopped tutoring Evren around a year ago, when she had to work abroad because it was her dream ever since she was just a small girl.
Evren liked his tutor, she was kind, understanding, and cheerful. When he didn't understand their lessons, she would patiently teach him again until he understood it perfectly. When he had some inquiries, his tutor wouldn't hesitate to answer him. When he failed some of the tests his tutor gave him on a rare occasion, she would explain to him the correct answers. But what made Evren look up to her as one of his role models he should try to emulate was that she would also teach him valuable lessons about life after each discussion they had.
Evren would always look forward to listening to her sermons and sharing about her own life stories after their discussions–it's what he considered to be the best part of his tutoring sessions. Ever since she left, parting farewells and wishing one another good luck, no other tutor had been assigned to Evren. Then again, he didn't need one. He was at the age when he could study just fine on his own without needing to consult others about his studies except for some rare cases.
So really, the only thing he should be focusing on is his lack of social skills. Well, he isn't totally socially inept–he does know how to socialize decently enough, at least for someone like him who has lived in a hospital, though with a couple of setbacks that he can work on. When he went to school on his first day, filled with both anticipation and anxiety, he made it a goal for himself to keep a low profile and to avoid doing things out of the ordinary.
At first, everything was going smoothly though there were a few occasions when he couldn't ask a student properly about the location of the principal's office and kept on stuttering and mumbling with his words. He badly wanted to dig himself underground. Luckily, despite the weird looks he got from the student he asked, they told him the directions and Evren profusely thanked them. After getting his class schedule from the principal, he went to his assigned classroom.
His parents already discussed everything with the principal beforehand regarding his situation so it was no surprise to see the principal recognize him when Evren told him his name. He took deep breaths, standing before the door, the door acting as a barrier from himself and the new faces he had to meet from the other side. His hand reached for the doorknob, his hand cold and sweaty. You can do this. Just don't act too awkward. Be normal. He repeated it in his mind like a mantra, turning the doorknob over. It responded with a click and the door swung open.
All eyes fell on him when he entered the classroom, the rowdy voices dissipating into thin air. They stared at him, as if he was a new specimen scientists recently discovered. Evren never wanted to bolt out of a room more than he ever did right now in his life. The teacher seemed as if he expected Evren's presence and informed everyone in class about Evren being a transferee. He then told Evren to go introduce himself in front of the class. Despite his unwillingness to, Evren forced himself to come up in front and wore a friendly smile.
"Good morning, I'm Evren Kim and I hope we'll get along with each other."
Is my introduction okay? It must be, it's simple and not too complicated. What more do I need to share?
Apparently, his classmates didn't seem to think the same. When they heard his name, they perked up and waved their hands wildly in the air, shooting questions at him from left to right without giving him space to even breathe and think about how to answer each of their questions. Was he in a classroom or in an interrogation room? He felt like a criminal being interrogated by the police.
"Kim? Are you Korean?"
"Did you come from Korea?"
"Where did you live?"
"What school do you come from!"
"No wonder you looked different!"
"Can you speak Korean?"
"Is English your first or second language?"
"But you speak English fluently! You don't even have an accent!"
"Hey, that's a rude thing to say–"
The teacher intervened before things got out of hand and Evren wanted nothing more than to thank the teacher for his angelic presence. The class quieted down from their teacher's scolding but they gazed at Evren with expectant eyes. Evren ruminated over the questions thoroughly and opened his mouth to reply.
"Yes, uhm–I'm actually half-Korean and half-American." Loud gasps of awe filled the room. Evren continued, "My paternal great grandfather, who is Korean, married my great grandmother from here. English is–is my first language since I was born here and...and I can speak Korean though I'm not that fluent at it." he stammered, deliberately avoiding eye-contact with his classmates. Can anyone stop me from talking? "I did not go to school. I was...I was tutored at home." he admitted as if he was sharing an embarrassing secret. Nods and hums of understanding followed after. Little did they know what Evren meant by home is the hospital, not an actual house. Not like they needed to know that. The teacher guided him towards a seat and Evren followed, putting his backpack underneath his armchair. What Evren didn't get back then, was when everyone's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as Evren took his seat. They looked at him with pitiful expressions and as if he was going to meet his early grave. Seeing how Evren didn't seem to get why they were looking at him that way, a few of his classmates who were near him, leaned a bit closer to whisper while their teacher continued the lecture.
"You see, you're sitting next to that guy." His classmate subtly pointed next to Evren. Evren craned his head a bit to see the person sitting beside him. Evren was confused. "What about him?"
"Of course, since you're new you wouldn't know what she means," another chimed in. "but all I have to say is...watch out for that guy. You don't want to get involved with him, trust me."
Evren listened to their warnings, but from what he observed as the days went on, the guy didn't seem to be...threatening? Instead, he seemed to be the quiet and studious type–Evren often found him studying when no one was looking at him, as if not wanting to get noticed by anyone. Evren doesn't see him as someone he should watch out for but he still keeps a distance.
When his classmates found out about Evren's specialty in Literature and History, they wouldn't leave him alone, asking him incessantly about the subjects and for his guidance. Evren was more than willing to accept their offer for help, happy even. It turns out that his intelligence makes up for his lack of social skills and awareness. However, Evren gets overwhelmed with their constant questions at times–even if he finds himself exhausted, he still tries to help his classmates when they need him, veiling his exhaustion with a smile.
Evren appreciates his classmates for trying to get along with him during breaks, coming up to his chair or inviting him for lunch but Evren struggles to relate with their stories, gossip, and jokes. He stays silent and listens–nodding, smiling, and laughing to whatever they're saying. He fades away in the background like a spectator, a thousand thoughts whirling inside his head like a hurricane.
Ah, I don't have anything to share about myself.
What should I say?
What are they saying? Just pretend you understand and nod.
Is that normal?
Am I the odd one out for not keeping up with the latest news or whatever?
Oh, so that's what they like...it's a bit questionable but who am I to judge?
Evren, speak up.
Why can't I say anything?
Simple–you have nothing to talk about.
Am I outdated...?
Evren still hangs out with his classmates at school despite his increasing dilemma, getting worse as the weeks go by.
Then during lunch break, he meets Stellan, the person everyone avoids in his class. Alone in the classroom. He can feel eyes burning holes at him and he gulps, nervously greeting him. Uncomfortable awkwardness settles in the air. Evren stands there uselessly by the doorway before remembering how Stellan aced his Math exam when no one at class did. To break the awkwardness lingering around them, he asks Stellan for help in Math. Stellan looks baffled, as if it is the first time anyone asks him for help about academics. It probably is. Evren goes to his seat and looks for his math notebook in his backpack and shows Stellan what he doesn't understand about their teacher's lecture. Stellan goes quiet which worries Evren, thinking that he must be bothering Stellan somehow. But then Stellan begins, explaining all the concepts and equations to Evren so well Evren thinks Stellan should replace their Math teacher. His explanations are simple and easy to follow through that even the student with the lowest grades can understand. When Evren doesn't get something, Stellan patiently teaches him and answers his inquiries.
From this meeting alone, Evren can conclude that Stellan is nothing like what his classmates and the rumors describe him as. If he is indeed just a rebellious gangster, would he even get good grades in Math, a subject that is considered to be the most difficult by the majority, and have the patience to teach Evren? Evren doubts so, which means the rumors are nothing but lies or exaggerated truths. Did anyone even try to see for themselves if Stellan is who the rumors say he truly is? Judging how everyone avoids getting involved with Stellan as if he caught a contagious disease, no one did.
So what does Evren do?
He talks to Stellan, approaches him during breaks, and asks him questions. Everyone is flabbergasted at his attempts to befriend Stellan, but the one who is the most speechless is none other than Stellan himself. At his first few attempts to get to know Stellan and to treat him warmly unlike how the others treat him, Stellan tried to push him away. He acted rude and spat insults towards Evren–and if Evren has to be honest, he felt a bit stung at the abrupt change of behavior Stellan had towards him. But, he noticed, Stellan was only acting up around others. And that Stellan's sudden shift of attitude didn't seem sincere, his eyes looked like he didn't even want to do it. One time, Evren caught Stellan glancing solemnly at them during recess when they were laughing over a stupid pun one of their classmates made.
He's faking it.
The question was–why? Is it because he had to stay true to what the rumors say about him? Or was it something else entirely?
Evren pondered about it and then it just clicked.
Stellan didn't trust him.
His eyes held doubt and apprehensiveness whenever Evren went up to him.
He could be thinking that Evren was just playing around and making fun of him behind his back, that Evren's attempts to befriend him weren't genuine. Why wouldn't he think that way? How could he trust someone who suddenly tries to befriend him when no one else did? When no one made the effort to?
Oh.
Ouch.
Thinking about it, didn't it hurt?
Stellan thought that anyone who tries to befriend him will cut him off immediately and are only playing with his feelings. Knowing that tugged Evren's heart strings and made him feel some complicated emotions that he couldn't word. With this new knowledge in his possession, Evren is more than determined to befriend Stellan. Once upon a time, Evren was just like him. He didn't have friends in the hospital and he always wondered, how does it feel like to have a friend that stays with you through thick and thin? No matter how challenging and difficult the hurdles that are thrown at them are? Enduring everything together, the good and bad? Evren doesn't know. But he does know the aching, crushing weight of loneliness it had over him. How empty he felt.
A profound yearning whispering within the depths of his heart, one that Evren made sure was locked tight and hidden away from sight. And to escape from the heavy feeling of isolation, he watched movies and read books, resonating with the characters in the stories he immersed himself in. He imagined a reality that he thought was impossible for him, because if he didn't, how could he ignore the hollow and painful feeling loneliness had? His heart would ache whenever he thinks of such thoughts, so he used daydreaming as his way to endure and he refused to think more than he already did.
Stellan must be feeling the same way too. Maybe not exactly what Evren felt, perhaps a different kind of loneliness that Evren doesn't know how it feels like, but it is still loneliness. That doesn't change.
And because Evren knows how suffocating it feels, he doesn't want Stellan to feel the same way.
Not anymore.
So whatever Stellan said or did, Evren doesn't treat him much differently from before. He does make sure not to cross the boundary Stellan set, treating it with respect. He does not want to force Stellan to accept him, Stellan doesn't need to even. It's perfectly fine if he doesn't want to because it's his own choice.
What Evren truly intends, is for someone to at least acknowledge Stellan's existence, to take their time to get to know him properly, and to not treat him as if he doesn't exist. That's the least Evren can do–not as a classmate, not out of pity, not because he has some hero complex–but as a human. In spite of his limited views of the world around him, he knows how unfair and brutal life can be. So why make it harder for others, when you can do the opposite? When you are capable of uttering even just a single kind word or performing a small good deed? It doesn't have to be an obligation or because you want to get paid in return, but simply because you want to. Wouldn't that make life a bit easier, a bit more bearable to live? Wouldn't that make the world a better place?
Evren knows that it isn't that easy, but he would rather be one of the minority who would spread kindness to those around him, no matter how small it seems. It can even change a person's life in ways you can never imagine. It can make their difficult days go smoother, it can soothe their broken hearts, and it can make them consider that life is worth living so long as kind people exist in this world, a stark reminder that the world isn't that cruel and harsh.
A naive belief, Evren knows. But it is one of the simplest ones that people often forget. It is a belief that Evren follows with his heart. So he continues to approach Stellan, making sure he doesn't feel alone, that despite everyone's cold treatment towards him, he is still one of them. Eventually, Stellan abandons the false pretenses around him and slowly but surely, he returns the warm gesture equally. He no longer pushes Evren away, letting him stay by his side.
Evren thinks that he will get to have a new friend of his own for the first time in his life, and that maybe he will finally learn how it feels like to have a friend.
. . .
Evren is just trying to look for the notebook his siblings gave him back then–a present that Evren cherishes wholeheartedly and holds a special place in his heart. When he first heard of the art competition, Evren immediately knew he couldn't partake in it, his art skills are as good as a chicken scrawl. Even a toddler can produce amazing artworks compared to his hideous ones. What caught his attention though was on how the participants will compete with one another–making comics with a well-written story. Certainly, Evren is terrible at drawing no matter how many failed attempts to improve his art skills took him before giving up completely.
But writing? Writing stories at that? That's his field of expertise, a skill he's confident at if he can say so himself. For his whole life, he has written nothing but stories spurred by his endless imagination, an effect of being caged in the hospital for so long. His logic at that time was that if he couldn't see the whole world with his own eyes, he would make one. And so that inspired him to make up stories of his own with just a pencil and a bond paper he requested from the nurse before he received his siblings' gift yet, stories of what and how the world looks in his limited vision.
While Evren may not compete with the other contestants in the art competition as there is a high chance of him being the first one to get eliminated, he wrote some story ideas of his own in his notebook. His other classmates got curious and peeked over his shoulders to see what he was working at. One of his classmates picked up his notebook to Evren's surprise and lightheartedly teased him about it. Evren was about to ask them to give him his notebook back when his classmate suddenly tripped over. The notebook slipped from their hands and fell outside the window.
To say that Evren was too stunned to speak was an understatement, he attempted to leap over the window the moment he saw the notebook flying away from his classmate's grasp and the others had to hold him back from jumping over recklessly. He quickly looked over the window and sighed in relief as the notebook seemed to be safe and sound. When his mind calmed down, he went out in the schoolyards to pick up his notebook only to find out it was gone. As if it vanished without any prior warning.
How did he react?
He panicked.
How could he lose one of the only gifts his siblings gave him as a way to get to know him?
He felt like a horrible person for losing such a treasured momento.
Evren asked everyone he knew, including Stellan, about it–and no one knew where it went. The few days following after, Evren searches for the notebook everywhere before classes start, during breaks, and after classes end. He looks for it in the classroom, the hallway, the cafeteria, the library, and the schoolyards–still, his endless search proves to be futile. So Evren retraces his steps over the places he already went to, he must have missed something while he was searching. He strolls back outside the schoolyards, even though he didn't find the notebook here at first.
Perhaps it's just around here and someone accidentally kicked it far away or threw it somewhere near here for who knows why. After all, this is the place where his notebook was dropped. It couldn't have magically disappeared, such a thing doesn't exist. But then Evren walks into a scene he shouldn't have walked into. He goes frigid, his brain trying to comprehend what he is witnessing. He locks eyes with a certain brown-haired boy, the latter's gaze petrified at the sight of him walking in.
Stellan?!
What is he doing here?
And–wait, is he fighting?
Oh crap, I shouldn't have come here! This is obviously a fight that's none of my business! I can't help out Stellan even if I want to–I don't even know how to fight–
He snaps out from his frozen state when he sees one of the gangsters aiming a punch at Stellan's face so he shouts. "Watch out!" Luckily, Stellan dodges it on time and throws a devastating punch of his own that Evren swears he can hear the sound of a bone getting fractured.
Is this what the rumors mean? But...
"Thanks!"
Evren plasters a shaky smile on his face and Stellan's eyes look apologetic but he focuses on the fight at hand, his attention unwavering. Evren backs away from the fight to avoid getting caught in it, not wanting to be a hindrance. With terrifying precision and swiftness, Stellan finishes the gangsters off without breaking a sweat. Stellan comes up to him, leaving the unconscious–that Evren hopes are still alive–battered bodies on the ground. He mutters apologies to Evren and gives him a detailed explanation of what happened to clear any misunderstanding Evren has in his mind...which are none. Along with a long lecture that reminds Evren of his nurse whenever he's careless with his health.
"You see, it isn't what it looks like–I do not fight people for fun okay?
"Like these are the same gangsters who tried to pickpocket me the other day–
"And I was only defending myself even though well–ahem–they look like they could die any moment now but that's not the point–
"I swear I'm not an adrenaline junkie, far from it–actually, that depends but – ah! You know what I mean!
"And what are you even doing here?! Did you have a death wish? You could have gotten hurt!"
Yeah, they misunderstood him big time. Evren thinks as he listens to Stellan reprimanding him ceaselessly.
"Are you listening?" Stellan snaps his fingers in front of his face, crossing his arms.
"Mm? Ah, yeah, I'm listening alright." Evren replies distractedly.
Stellan narrows his eyes. "You don't seem like it."
"Well, I am now."
"Really now?"
"Mm." Evren hums.
Stellan just releases an insufferable sigh. "Nevermind, as long as we both didn't get hurt..." He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking around the area. He bends down near one of the bushes and picks up something, dusting it off. "What's that?" Evren asks, nearing Stellan. His eyes have gone wide at the item Stellan is holding. "Is that–is that my notebook?–" His mouth gapes and Stellan hands him the notebook, turning his head away. "It was here all along? But I looked through everywhere here and didn't find it so how–"
"I took it." Stellan blurts out.
Evren blinks his eyes at him. What did Stellan say? He took it? Is he hearing things?
"I found it here a few days ago and picked it up."
Okay, nevermind, Evren is not hearing things after all.
"Then why...?"
Stellan stares at the ground, pulling his hood over his head.
"I...I wanted to continue reading your stories," he starts, "I wanted to join in the art competition but I couldn't think of a good story I can draw for my comics. I was just going back to class when I saw the notebook sprawled open on the ground and...picked it up..." he trails off and he doesn't seem like he wants to continue explaining any further but he does so anyways. "Then I read the stories written inside and I couldn't bring myself to stop reading it. It also became like–my inspo if you can call it that–for my comics. At first, I didn't know it was yours, I thought of giving it over to the 'Lost and Found Center' after I was done reading it."
Stellan bows his head, facing Evren but still resisting eye contact. "I'm sorry for lying to you when you asked me about it. I shouldn't have lied."
Evren stares at him, the gears in his mind turning. He shoots a glance at his notebook then at Stellan and back to his notebook. He clutches it tight and opens his mouth to answer.
"You! You again?! I thought we talked about this Collins!" An abrupt voice yells, jerking both Evren and Stellan to turn their heads towards the voice. A stout and chubby man comes walking briskly towards them, his face red. "I was inspecting the school grounds and heard a commotion–of course you would be at the center of it–what did you do this time?!–"
"I wasn't–" The vice principal cuts him off, his pupils dilating at the unconscious bodies laying around. "You got into a fight again? Do you have a hobby of beating up innocent students?!"
Stellan chokes, aghast. "Innocent?–"
"We can explain–" Evren interjects into the conversation.
The vice principal notices Evren standing behind Stellan. He jabs an accusatory finger at Evren, his face growing blue. "And who is this? Your accomplice? Did he help you with this too?" His voice rises.
Stellan's eyes widen, a troubled expression takes over his face. "No! He's not invol–"
"Seriously, you're dragging other students now too? You're setting a bad example, you know that?" The vice principal pushes the two of them forward, urging them to move on. "Meet me at my office after classes. If you don't, I'll personally drag you rascals there by myself if I have to."
Evren and Stellan exchange glances, sharing one thought in their mind.
We're screwed.
. . .
"I'm sorry."
"For the thousandth time Stellan, it'sfine."
"I dragged you into this."
"You don't have to feel guilty, it's the vice principal's fault for not hearing us out."
"You did nothing wrong."
"And you did nothing wrong either–plus, you can use some company. I don't entirely mind."
"..."
"I'm sorry..."
Evren sighs, putting the broom away. He walks up to Stellan mopping the floor in the hallway forlornly, his face sullen. He puts a comforting hand on Stellan's shoulder, patting it. "I'm serious. It's fine. Don't beat yourself up over it." Stellan slumps, the energy sucked out of him. His grip on the mop loosens. "I prefer having detention with the vice principal over"–Stellan gestures around his surroundings–"this."
Evren shifts glances all over the main entrance and hallway, cringing. "...yeah. I think cleaning the whole school as punishment is a bit too much for only two students like us."
"Very." Stellan glares darkly at the mop as if it committed heinous war crimes against humanity. "We also have to guard until 6 P.M, don't we?" he asks sourly, as if tasting a bitter medicine in his mouth. Evren nods, "We gotta check each room then."
Stellan drops the mop on the floor sloppily, following Evren to check every room they come across. If one is left open, they would lock it with the keys the vice principal gave them. He did threaten them not to lose the keys before handing it over to them. As they survey the school campus, Evren speaks up. "Also...about the notebook."
Stellan flinches, warily glancing at Evren. His steps have slowed down, his shoulders tense. "I admit, I do feel upset that you didn't tell me sooner. It's something I treasure a lot and wouldn't trade it for the whole world." Stellan looks away, dipping his head to gaze at the floor. "But I think you know you can just...ask me and stuff. I don't mind showing you if you just ask."
"I...well, I don't have a valid excuse." Stellan quietly says, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I know perfectly well that you won't think twice about lending it to me."
"Then?"
"Had an irrational fear, I guess."
"Of what?"
Stellan feigns a cough, deliberately trying to prolong his answer.
"Come on, tell me." Evren urges.
"..."
Stellan mulls over it. "Can we drop the topic?" he asks instead.
"No. You owe me an answer and you know why."
Stellan grimaces, rubbing his head sheepishly. He exhales, resigned. "Okay, fine. It's just...I wasn't sure how to tell it to you without getting awkward."
"Awkward?" Evren repeats, his face contorting into a puzzled expression. "Why would you get awkward? We've known each other for like...over a month now."
Stellan clicks his tongue. "So what if we knew each other for a month? It's totally normal to still feel awkward."
Evren looks entirely unconvinced but he doesn't push further. They climb through the staircase and lock the remaining rooms left in the second floor, inspecting it thoroughly. The lights flicker eerily, temporarily shrouding the hallway in pitch-black darkness. The temperature drops, making the hair on their skin stand on end. Stellan scoots a bit closer to Evren, whispering. "Is it just me...or does something feel weird about this place?" Evren ponders, done locking the last room and turning it over to make sure it's properly locked. "...should we go back?"
Stellan nods, hugging his jacket closer to him. "We should–"
Thud!
Evren and Stellan jolt, spinning around to see what caused the noise. Nothing. Then what did they hear?–
Stellan frowns. "Didn't that sound like the trash bin toppling over?"
"I thought the same thing–"
Deafening and irritating footsteps vibrate across the hallway, two silhouettes lurking behind like trails of ghouls following them. The silhouettes grow larger, edging closer and the figures more distinct. A teenage girl with long wavy black hair comes into view, dashing madly towards them as she pulls on the sleeve of her friend who has short honey blonde hair beside her. Her blue eyes shake wildly. "RUN!" she screams, as if the four of them will meet gruesome deaths if they don't listen to her command.
"GET THOSE 2 WENCHES!" Multiple hurried footsteps stomp their way in the hallway, a large mob of thugs charging towards them. Stellan, quick on the uptake and has plenty of experiences running away from his enemies at a short notice, yanks Evren's arm and makes a beeline for the staircase, the two girls following close behind. Evren has no choice but to follow them, gasping for breath. They haven't even run that far away yet but Evren can feel his heart pounding loudly in his ears, his feet about to give up on him. Stellan's strong grip on his arm is the only thing keeping Evren steady and awake. He doesn't know if he's even breathing while they bolt away from the rugged thugs at an astonishing speed. Evren is sure that without Stellan holding him, he would have fallen far behind.
They skip several steps on the staircase, bounding over the long flight of steps. As the thugs are about to catch up with them, the black-haired girl cries, "WHEN WILL THEY LEAVE US ALONE?!" Her friend glares daggers at her, her emerald eyes fuming. "Why are you complaining when this is literally all your fault!" Stellan casts them a cursory glance before an idea pops up in his head. He turns towards Evren, panting. "The keys–can you–" he halts, his grip on Evren slackening. Evren's face turns a light shade of blue, the tips of his fingers transforming into a purple color, and his breathing rapid and shallow. "Hey–are you okay?!" Stellan panics, making the two girls stop in their tracks. Evren ignores him and shoves the keys onto Stellan's palm, releasing ragged breaths.
"OI, YOU TWO–COME BACK HERE–" The voices get progressively louder.
Stellan hurriedly turns a key to a random room, struggling to open it. "Come on, come on, why won't you just open–dang it–" The door snaps open and the four teenagers frantically barge inside, closing the door shut with their backs pressed against it. The gangsters slam their hands on the door with a bang, turning over the doorknob hysterically. Stellan locks the door tight with the key, the girls pushing the furniture and the like against it to keep the door from opening if the doorknob was to break from the sheer force of the rugged thugs. They all collectively release a sigh of immense relief.
Evren takes a few steps away from Stellan and the others, staggering on his feet. He clutches his chest tight, crinkling his uniform. His knees buckle underneath him on its own. He tries to breathe but he can't feel the air around him, his chest tightens and twists like a rope, and he can't think of anything except to breathebreathebreathebreathe–
He did not notice Stellan holding him by the shoulders and yelling out his name, he did not notice the two girls looking at him in horror and trying to find anything that can help him regain his breathing–
His vision sways and he can feel his head hit on something hard and cold, the voices that surround him from all sides disappearing from existence. Oh...this feels nice. He thinks offhandedly. His eyelids grow heavy, unable to comprehend the disaster that unfolds around him. He gives in to the tempting offer to abandon everything for just a short moment, the fatigue draining away from his body.
All he can see is pure darkness.