The latter smiled embarrassed, not knowing what to say.
But where have you been? he asked tearfully.
I had to go abroad for my studies, I'm sorry it happened overnight.
I am happy to see you again.
I'm glad to see you too, Mr. Kang.
What can I offer you?
Oh, nothing special! I was just passing by in a hurry, I'm a cab driver. This is my summer job to pay my rent.
I see, take care of yourself. It's getting late.
Don't worry about it. May I borrow your bathroom?
He nodded.
No worries.
As the black man slid the lock on the door, the boy -now blond- exited the cabin, with a weary step.
Oh, Wooyoung!
I'm going home, Mr. Kang," he said, baying, "have a nice evening.
Wait !
An idea had just blossomed in a corner of his head and he wasn't about to let it fade.
It's getting late, the fog is not helping. It is dangerous to return alone in these conditions! Take this cab, he pointed out while throwing a glance at the vehicle parked in front of the entrance, it is a very good customer of mine, he will bring you back. I warn him that you wait for him inside as soon as he will be out of the toilets.
Really? You would do that?
Of course I would!
Thank you very much, sir," he thanked, bending down, "you've taken a thorn out of my side.
He sketched maliciously a smile before perceiving a few seconds later the body of the brown facing him.
A customer of mine waits for you in the cab, you think you can bring it back to him? Asked the owner by wiping a coffee cup.
Without worries! I am going to go, I will return as soon as possible, I miss your cocktails besides! He finished by smiling before slipping away towards the outside.
He slammed the door before throwing an eye at the face of the man, sitting on the back seat and started the vehicle.
The half-light did not help him to discern it well however he did not look like a serial killer.
On Wooyoung's side, the senses were disoriented.
His hands were slightly clammy, and he tried to keep a certain composure in order not to break under the heaviness of his heart's thoughts.
This smell, he could have fathomed it between a thousand.
It emanated directly from the harvest of images which did not cease scrolling in the whites of his eyes. The reel of a cassette on which one had engaged the infinite option in order never to forfeit the tiny part of film which it contained.
And the bold wisp of this driver's larynx only confirmed the doubts of the stored annals brought to the surface.
He was sure of it.
It was him.
The one he had danced with.
The one with whom his lips had sealed before connecting their threads of alcoholic slime.
The one with whom he had taken pleasure in a divine atmosphere of paradise.
The same one with whom he had dared to unpack the whole of his life without any filter.
The one who had abandoned him in the morning.
But who, however,
still had the gift of brutally knocking his vital organ against his rib cage.
The one he loved.
Where should I take you ?
At the entrance to your heart.
𝘄𝗼𝗼𝘀𝗮𝗻
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