GR8VITY (Offstage Media #1)

TRACK 01

STAND STILL

LIZ

A voice pulls me out of the memories in my head as its owner slowly comes into view. "Can I ask you a question?"

I glance over in time to see a tall man mirroring my pose of leaning against the railing of the overlook. Giving him a quick nod with a short sound in the back of my throat, I let him know it's okay to ask.

"I see you here every night. Does it ever change?" he asks, eyes drinking in as much of my face as they can.

Smiling at him, I move my attention back out at the night lights of Seoul.

I reply to him in Korean, "In the bigger picture, no.

But sometimes if a person stands still long enough, their view might change.

They could see new lights they've never seen before, filling a darkness they didn't realize was trying to hide them. "

"Mmm," he replies thoughtfully before standing to full height, which is much taller than my short five-foot-three, and turning to walk away.

I can't say that it's the strangest encounter I've had in the past three years I've been here, but it's close.

Watching him walk down the path away from me, I'm struck with the strangest desire to stop him and ask if he's okay.

With the way that his hands are tucked into his pockets and his shoulders sag like the weight of the world sits on them, it makes me wonder if he's carrying his sadness on them, too, like I do.

My gaze follows him until he's out of sight, but that doesn't mean he's out of mind.

It goes against every fiber of my being to see someone who might need help and not help them.

There was just something about him that said he wouldn't welcome it.

He was wearing black gym pants with a white stripe down the side, a black long-sleeve shirt, a black hat, and a black face mask.

Normally, when people go through the trouble of looking unapproachable, they don't want to be approached.

Having lost my train of thought now that my mind is elsewhere, there's no point in staying out even later. I give one last look out into the city before sending a kiss towards the heavens for my mother and turn the opposite direction as the man, tucking my own hands in my pockets and walking home.

My sleep is fretful the same as it's been for weeks now.

I wake up exhausted from the nightmares of falling off buildings and running for my life.

It's been such a long time since I've had night terrors, and they're normally triggered by something.

I just can't seem to figure out what's set them off this time.

It's part of the reason I've been staying out so late, trying to wear myself out so that I'll collapse in bed by the time that I get home.

Last night, I wasn't tired at all, because my brain kept trying to figure out where I've seen the stranger's eyes before. I swear it felt like they were staring straight into my soul, and I know I've seen them somewhere.

By the time that night falls again, I really can't say how I've made it through the day. I spent all day yawning, even through my morning run and workout, which I picked back up due to the nightmares.

As I walk back toward my spot at the overlook, I wonder if the stranger will show up tonight, or if he'll walk past like he didn't speak to me yesterday. Part of me hopes for that, because I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself from trying to help him this time.

I round the corner just in time to see a tall figure prop himself up on the railing.

My stomach does a small flip that I don't understand, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he has commandeered my spot.

It's only fair since I'm making this sacrifice for him that I'm allowed to check him out before he realizes that I'm here.

He's dressed in all black again, but this time is a nicer fit.

His long legs are encased in a pair of black jeans, leading down to his black-and-white Converse.

The black sweater covering his torso makes me want to run my fingers across it to see if it's as soft as it looks.

Luckily, I'm able to not act on my intrusive thoughts.

Taking his place from yesterday, I lean my forearms onto the railing without looking at him.

"I hope you don't mind," he says quietly, his deep voice doing something to my brain. "I just wanted to see if I could see it from your point of view."

I glance over at him with a soft smile. "I don't mind at all. In my opinion, it's one of the prettiest views in the city. I wouldn't want to be greedy and keep it all for myself."

He angles his body toward me and slightly tilts his head. "From this angle, I dare say I have to agree with you."

I fight for my life trying to contain my laugh at his line, but I don't quite manage all the way, forcing me to cover my mouth with my hand.

It's impossible to see his smile beneath his mask, but I see the moment it breaks on his face. His eyes soften before they slam closed. He shakes his head, looking down. "That was pretty bad, wasn't it?"

"It's not the worst I've ever heard," I reassure him, smiling wide.

A few school kids push between us, camera in hand wanting a photo.

We move out of their way, and I offer to take it for them.

It isn't until I'm handing it back that I realize the stranger is gone.

I didn't even see him leave, so I don't know what direction he went.

Who drops a cheesy but admittedly cute line like that and then disappears?

Honestly, I hope he's gone at this point.

I'd hate for him to be standing somewhere watching me look for him like a fool.

The whole interaction wasn't enough to leave my brain satisfied, and it's still early, so I decide to hang out for a while longer.

Waiting for the group of kids to leave, I take the bench that sits just off the path.

Pulling my knees up to my chest, I lay my chin down on top of my folded arms and try to relax.

To people like the strange man, I probably look like a lunatic, coming out here every night.

Same place, almost same exact time. Even if I could explain my reasoning, it still wouldn't come out right.

I never in my wildest dreams thought that I would fall in love with the city as much as I have.

The people. The culture. Sure, part of it might be the loneliness from missing my omma, but the biggest part of it is the rightness I feel inside of me by simply being here.

I'm not sure how long I'm lost in thought for, but when a familiar voice pulls me out of my head, everyone else is gone.

"What are you thinking about that has you making that face?" he asks, his tall form taking a seat on the bench beside me.

Without looking at him, I fight to keep a straight face as I answer, "I was actually beginning to question my sanity. I keep seeing this strange man who shows up and disappears just as fast. I've come to the conclusion of two options."

"And what are those?" he asks, dropping his voice low and smirking underneath his mask.

I've never understood the infatuation with voices until this moment. The way his goes so deep as he says that, he might as well have run his hand across the back of my shoulders, because that's what it feels like.

I bite my lips quickly before admitting, "Either you're a figment of my imagination or a ghost with the way that you keep appearing and disappearing."

His laugh is low, and it immediately puts a smile on my face. Swinging his arm around, he offers a small white bag between us. "If I were either of those, could I be presenting you with ice cream right now?"

My eyes narrow slightly as I lean away from him. I can see his smile drop instantly as his eyes widen in surprise. "I promise I'm not a creep or anything. I was just craving ice cream and thought you might like some as well."

I can't stop the laugh this time. It simply bubbles right up. "I don't think you're a creep. I was just going to say that I'm reassessing the situation and think you might be a psychic instead."

He snickers, dropping the bag between us on the bench before handing me the first package of Mochi.

I take it, opening it and retrieving the tiny fork while I wait on him to open his.

Once he's got his, I hold it out toward him.

There's a moment that he looks at it before glancing up at me questioningly.

I grin. "Cheers."

Finally tapping his to mine, he repeats, "Cheers."

I'm too busy with the first bite of one of my favorite desserts to ever exist to notice when he slips one side of his mask off to take a bite of his own.

It isn't until he moves to put the rest of it in his mouth that I glance over and promptly forget any coherent thought that might've been residing in my head.

There was definitely something familiar about his eyes. His face makes me feel like I'm having déjà vu, but I know for a fact that I've never met him. It's more than that, though. He's got to be one of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my life.

He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "Have we met somewhere before?"

Tilting his head over a bit, one side of his mouth pulls up like he's enjoying an inside joke. "Yes."

I'm wracking my brain trying to figure out where we might've met and wondering how I possibly could've forgotten him when he starts chuckling.

Taking a bite of his Mochi, he glances back over at me. "Yesterday. Right here."

Closing my eyes, I shake my head with a smirk at his cleverness and give him a few seconds to enjoy his joke. "You just look really familiar."

He chuckles around another bite of his ice cream. "I just have one of those faces."

There's a lie there. I'm not sure how I know, but I do. It might just be in my gut, but there's also something in the way that he gently bites his bottom lip.

"You know," I start, "I think I just realized that I might be easier to kidnap than I ever thought I would be."