The linoleum floor squeaked as Cho-yeon ran down the pastel blue hallway, cheap flourescents lighting overhead. Her bag thumped against her side, the cold metal stethascope banging against her collarbone.
" Miss Nam!"
She took a sharp turn down the hallway, sliding to a stop before the voice and the front desk. " H-Hi Mun-sa ssi. I'm h-here." She panted.
Mun-sa was the older woman who ran the front desk of Yeongro Hospital in Seoul. The woman had been watching over her as a senior supervisor since she arrived at the hospital a year ago.
" Miss Nam, are you alright?" Mun-sa asked concerned, ever typing away the ivory computer.
Cho-yeon nodded, still out of breath. " I-I think so, just came to check the time?"
Mun-sa sighed, removing her beaded glasses. " It's two a.m., Miss Nam. Your shift ended at twelve. You may go."
" I know, but then a patient carded, and they were low so I assisted, I didn't know if you still needed people or had openings-"
" Nam Cho-yeon."
She stopped instantly, heat flushing under the stern gaze. Mun-sa resumed typing, without looking at the screen, a feat only she could attempt after her decades at Yeongro.
" You worked a ten hour shift. You are free tomorrow. Go home, please. We will manage just fine." A small crinkle by her left eye let some kindness into the steely statement.
" But the patients-"
" Will be fine. Go home and change out of your scrubs. Besides you must be exhausted."
One look at Mun-sa's face told her that arguing was futile.
Cho-yeon nodded in defeat and turned, shoes still squeaking on the floor as she made her way to the glass revolving door at the exit. It wasn't until she walked the cold, crisp, Seoul night streets that she felt the weariness hit her bones.
Working in the ER was exhilarating and adrenaline-racing, but also draining. Still, she certainly loved it. Her arms prickled in the breeze as she rested on the metal bench, waiting for the bus to take her to the other end of Seoul. Did a bus even come this late at night? Or would it be considered early morning now? Her brain was too scrambled to tell.
Her eyes started to get heavy, the flashing city lights growing fainter as she closed them, leaning back against the hard back of the bench. Her head drooped as she started to nod off. Maybe just a few minutes of rest before the bus....
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The crash was deafening. It echoed throughout the alleys and screeched along all six lanes of pavement. The screams and outcries of awoken people might have been worse.
Cho-yeon snapped awake, searching for the sound. She stifled her own yelp when her eyes caught sight of the burn orange flames and condensed grey smoke growing off of deep red metallic parts scattered across the road. A worker truck had skid to a halt, jackknifed across the lanes, a crunched car or so backed up behind them. The drivers seemed unharmed but in a state of shock.
But that wasn't all. A jumbled piece of metal, crushed in and flung forty feet from the site smoked. A motorcycle it appeared. But, where was the rider? He wasn't in the road, or by the car, or the sidewalk...
Suddenly, her thoughts kicked in and she took off running for the crumbled hunk of a bike.
" Hello?! Can anyone hear me?! Is anyone here?!"
A resounding, small groan perked Cho-yeon's ears and she kicked into emergency adrenaline, all exhaustion gone.She dropped to her knees carefully before the motorcycle, cautiously avoiding shattered glass.
" Hello? Is anyone here?"
" Y-yes," A light male voice croaked. "U-un-nderr h-her-"
" Don't worry, I'm going to get you out." She promised nervously.
How was she going to get this off? It was going to crush his airways if she didn't move it soon. She was going to have to push it.
Cho-yeon pulled her sleeves over her palms and began shoving at the motorcycle, trying to lift up to alleviate the pressure. He gasped as she grunted and finally sort of threw the hunk to the side, freeing his body.
She gritted her teeth once able to see his whole body, attempting to remain calm.
" Isss i-itt ba-add?" He slurred, barely able to turn to look at her. Her eyes roamed over every part of his body, critically searching for wounds.
At least four broken ribs, needs to be bandaged. Two cuts to the left cheek, requires glue, most likely three broken fingers, needs to be set. Scrapes along the legs to be disinfected. Swollen and cut lips. Concussion check.
"A-ayy! I-I'm not a b-bre-eding c-cattle. D-don-don't look a-at m-me like t-that." His words jumbled and she dipped her head in apology.
" Sir, can you sit up at all?" Cho-yeon asked gently.
The young man tried to move and cried out, falling back down with a painful thud.
Concussion check and what appears to be two dislocated shoulders.
" Sir, can you hear me? You need to go to a hospital immediately. There's one right by here-" She started to look around when a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled tightly.
She spun to find the young man shaking his head anxiously. " I-I can't."
"Can't what?"
"C-can't hospital. N-Not allowed."
" Sir, whoever told you you can't go to a hospital.... you are severely injured and really need too-"
" P-Please. N-no h-hospital." His jaw was set, from stubbornness or pain she couldn't tell. His eyes fluttered shut and her heart pounded. He needed to stay awake.
" Sir! Hey sir! How old are you?"
His eyes shot open and he looked murkily confused. " T-twenty-five?"
She smiled shakily. Her age. "That's good. Can you tell me your favorite color?"
" Bl-ue- Blue?"
" Good! Your favorite number?"
"W-what i-ss this? Twenty q-questions?" He laughed dryly then hissed and clutched gently at his sides.
She grinned a little at his attempt for humor. " Yes, it is. Number?"
" Three."
"Favorite food?"
" K-Kimchi jigae."
His speech is improving.
"Animal?"
"Dog."
" Siblings?"
" Six."
"Hobby?"
"Song and d-dance."
Cho-yeon grinned at the strange answer. Cyclist, six siblings, dancer, and a music lover, this young man sure was strange.
" Name?"
Suddenly, he faltered, and his eyes went every which way.
" Sir? Sir are you alright?"
His vision clouded slightly and he seemed ten shades paler in that moment. " Can't answer."
" Why? What's happening sir?"
" I can't tell y-you my name." He clarified with a slight crack in his voice.
"Oh."
Before she could formulate a response, a heavy hand fell on her shoulder.
" Miss?!"
Cho-yeon turned to find the horrified work truck driver, who was staring at the young man with wide round eyes.
" I-I'm Ko Ji-Yoon. Did I, I hit him- my god. I'll take call an ambulance to the hospital right away-"
" No!" The young man rasped out, grabbing Cho-yeon's wrist. She crouched down again. " Sir, you really need to go to the hospital-"
His eyes went desperate, his breathings speeding up. " P-please. No hospital."
" Sir, I know it's a lot too handle but-"
Suddenly, he groaned in pain while reaching out and pulled her close; his breath warm on her ear.
" Park Jimin."
She froze. "What?"
"My name." He whispered. " I am Park Jimin sii."
Cho-yeon's eyes went wide as the dots finally connected. Six siblings, six other members. Hobby-song and dance...
His face was so bruised she'd barely paid attention in the dark. But there was no way he could go to a public hospital without getting mobbed...
The plea suddenly made perfect sense and she panicked for him.
" Oh, you don't need to do that!" Cho-yeon scrambled out, jumping up and pulling the phone out for the truck drivers' hand to hang up the emergency call.
" Ya! What was that for?!"
" S-sorry." She nervously handed the phone back. " He, um, we can't go to the hospital at the moment."
" We can't just leave him here!" The driver exasperated.Her brain raced, then slowed guiltily as she glanced over at his trembling and groaning form.
The driver was right, he needed medical attention, and soon. So if he couldn't go to the doctors than maybe...
" Actually, would you be willing to drive us somewhere?"
" Both of you? Where?"
" 1800 Woodbridge apartments across Seoul?"