02 | space race

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"what do you mean you're fifty years behind me? that can't be possible?" yangyang asks. his brain is still praying this is a prank, but he has a creeping feeling it's a lot worse than that.

"i don't know? i don't sound like a magician do i?" kunhang says.

"i think the word you are looking for is rocket scientist." yangyang jokes, but kunhang seems to take it genuinely.

"you are also watching the television for updates? fantastic!" he says, and claps his hands together.

"shit, sorry. i guess i shouldn't say anything about it. don't want to ruin the future for you. or me. or-"

"no, but i am curious. do the americans land a man on the moon before the soviets?" kunhang cuts him off. yangyang considers telling him (they do), but ultimately decides against it. he's too afraid of all the crazy side effects it could have. he doesn't want the world to go all rick n morty and eat him or something.

"can't say, sorry." yangyang says, and he hears muffled grumbles on the other end of the line.

"so do you live where i do? or did you- this is going to get very confusing." he says, brain already a bit mushy from trying to wrap his head around their insane situation. kunhang chuckles in response.

"well  i told you already. i live in number 306. but i live at the end of the road and basically the edge of the town." he replies, and yangyang is mind boggled. 

"but you live in the middle of a nice, busy street?" kunhang continues, and yangyang finds himself smiling like an idiot.

"i do." he says, and kunhang cheers in triumph. 

"how did you know?" he replies, dragging a pillow off his bed to sit on. he is discovering that the floor is not very comfy.

"context clues, yangyang. a growth of one to ten thousand will do that to the outskirts of town." kunhang replies. dang. yangyang never would've figured that out.

"anyway, i was thinking. is there any way for you to prove this to me? so i know you're not just pulling my leg?" he suggests, and kunhang pauses to think about it.

"if the phone is connected, does that mean other things wherever you are could be?" kunhang replies, and yangyang contemplates it.

"it's worth a try, isn't it?" he replies.

"is there anything around you?" 

"not that i want to ruin my lovely walls, but maybe i could write something small on them? if it doesn't work, i can cover it up easily then." he says, and yangyang hears a crash and more rustling.

"sorry. dropped stuff. anyway, i found a pen." he says. yangyang watches vigilantly around the room for this mystery message.

"i've done it." kunhang blurts out after a few moments, and yangyang sweeps the room with his eyes, having to squint. damn, he might need glasses. but eventually, he spots a tiny little note written along the siding. 'Hello.' it's so formal that he cringes a bit, but sprints back to the phone to relay his findings.

"it worked! but could you maybe do your doodling a bit closer to the wall by the window. i can't talk to you and read-"

"i cannot do that." kunhang says plainly, and yangyang slaps himself. of course kunhang's phone is still wired into the wall.

"should i write another message?" kunhang asks, and yangyang nods, before remembering kunhang cannot actually see him. he leans as close to the wall to read his next message. 

'How are you?' he leans back to the dresser, smiling as he searches for a pencil.

'i'm doing good thanks :D' he writes back, before shuffling back to the phone.

lost in the fire./ yangderyWhere stories live. Discover now