His Bodyguard || K.TH.

1. Arrival

"Are you visiting?"

"No. This was actually my hometown." You look out the window, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu from suddenly being propelled back to a place that is so familiar and yet foreign to you. "I think I'm staying here for a while."

"Oh, that's nice. I hope you don't mind me asking so many questions. I just really like hearing people's stories." She glances in the rear view mirror and you welcome her friendliness. For a long time, you've forgotten that this is your home. "Did you miss it?"

"Sort of."

A lot has changed in nine years. The buildings are different, old ones demolished, new ones built that are sleeker, taller and reaching the height of the sky. But at the same time, it's still small. Maybe it's because the skeleton of the city, the foundation, hasn't altered. Or perhaps because you were shorter and tinier back then and the city seemed so large, scary even.

Though now there are billboards plastered everywhere, advertising products you aren't familiar with, music leaking out from bustling shops and restaurants and people you don't recognize walking around and that you would never come to recognize. Colour seems to explode all around you, the city alive, streets breathing.

"-should really find another job. I mean driving a taxi isn't terrible, but it's not what I want to do forever. I have a degree in Human Resource Management. Honours actually. Wonder if I can do anything with that though." The taxi driver taps her fingers against the wheel. "The economy's bad these days."

"Oh, can I actually get off here?" You unknowingly interrupt her life story, peering out the window.

You remember the avenue well– a hot dog food truck on the corner next to the department store, a toy store still standing tall, it's one that you used to go to on your birthday to pick out your own gift.

There's also new cafes that have opened up, business buildings that make it foreign. There really isn't a reason for you to get out now, but for nostalgia sakes and your intuition that tells you should get out here.

"Sure thing." She signals to switch lanes, looking over her shoulder and smoothly parking into an empty spot a few meters away. "That'll be twenty two dollars." Once you pass her the correct amount of bills, she smiles. "Have a good day and good luck."

"Thank you. Good luck on finding a new job too."

The woman thanks you and with your suitcase by your side, you shut the taxi door, looking around at the metropolis, listening to the sounds of the concrete jungle, engines of buses whirring, honks of cars in the distance.

Everything is almost unrecognizable.

The suitcase drags behind you as you walk down the street. It'll take longer on foot, but you enjoy the surroundings, taking it all in. Your life has always been face-paced. It's nice to slow things down.

But you don't notice the bike zipping towards you. The blonde man just a year younger than you are, pedaling hard and looking over his shoulder, having lost the sleek vehicle for now.

Though what is noticeable and what catches your eye is the soft baby blue colour of his bike.

He comes closer to you. One more glance is taken. The boy's ready to zip across the street. But he's far too preoccupied to pay any attention to another car speeding down the road, the screech of their wheels, the driver who is distracted.