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Anna awoke on her eighteenth birthday with a start.  Today she was supposed to meet her group of friends to celebrate.  But something was wrong.  She couldn’t find any of them.  She texted.  She called.  No one responded.  Then she rolled over in bed and was astounded to discover that she wasn’t at home.  She was in what appeared to be a hotel room.  She climbed out of bed and walked towards the only window in the small room.  She pulled back the curtains and stared out at a thriving city below her.  Where on earth was she?  And how had she gotten here?  The only thing she knew for certain was that she wasn’t in Pakistan anymore.

She walked into the bathroom and gazed into the mirror at her wide, dark brown eyes, staring back at her a little bewildered. Her dark brown hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders.  She drew herself up to her full five feet, two inches.  Then she slipped into her long, flowing, pink shirt and smoothed it over her slim figure.  She pulled on a pair of loose-fitting pants, a couple of pink socks, and her pink sneakers.  If she was going to explore this strange city, she needed to be adequately dressed.  She didn’t seem to have any other clothes available.  This would have to do.  

Next, she investigated the hotel room for clues to her whereabouts.  She was surrounded by English.  The signs around the room were all displayed in English.  The hotel welcome book on the desk was written in English also.  She opened it and discovered the address of the hotel.  

Chicago?!!  How did she arrive in America?  She didn’t even have a passport!  Bewildered, her eyes searched the room for any evidence of her travel documents.  She found none.  She didn’t even appear to have a suitcase.  Or a purse.  How had she paid for this hotel room?  And what was she going to do now?

Besides her clothing and phone, the only other possessions she seemed to have with her were a sketch book, a drawing pencil, and a set of colored pencils.  She flipped through the sketch book to discover beautiful illustrations of sites around Chicago: the Willis Tower, Navy Pier, and the Art Institute.  Had she visited all of these places?  She had no recollection.

As she glanced back down at the open welcome book from the hotel, she saw that the hotel checkout time was eleven o’clock.  She looked at her phone.  10:45!  How was it that late?!  She never slept that late at home.    

She called the front desk.  They confirmed that she was checking out this morning and that the room had been paid for with a credit card.  What credit card?  She had nothing.  Only the outfit she was wearing, her phone, and her art supplies.

She began to search through her phone.  Her father’s number was in it.  Her brother’s number was there too.  All of her friends were listed.  She began to search through her photos.  She had taken several yesterday.  Of places in Chicago.  The Willis Tower, Navy Pier, and the Art Institute.  Why couldn’t she remember this?  Was it possible that someone had drugged her last night?  Had she visited a nightclub and someone had slipped something into her non-alcoholic drink?  But if they had, wouldn’t there be evidence of foul play here in her hotel room?  She found none. She was surrounded by a peaceful atmosphere.  She investigated her person and found herself unharmed.  

But how to explain her loss of memory?  Had she hit her head on something?  Gingerly, she reached up and investigated her scalp with her fingers.  She pressed lightly.  No pain.  No tenderness.  Surely if she’d suffered a head wound, some part of her skull would hurt.  Right?  It all felt fine.

She sighed, realizing she needed to leave her hotel room before she was kicked out.  Where on earth was she going to go?  As she turned towards the door, her stomach growled.  She realized she was ravenously hungry.  And she had no money.  Breakfast was long over.  She might find a spare apple in the welcome basket downstairs if she were lucky or perhaps a packet of tea or hot cocoa by the hot water dispenser.  She would check before leaving the hotel.  She opened the door to the hallway and made her way to the elevator.

 It opened with a ding.  Anna looked up and found herself frozen to the spot by the sight that met her eyes.  The elevator was occupied by a lone figure.  Her eyes traveled up, up, up that lithe figure to his exotic, dark eyes.  The raven fringe of his hair hid his entire forehead from view.  Her eyes slid down the straight slope of his nose before landing in the well-defined divot above his two perfect lips.  Suddenly, they parted in a beautiful grin, a boxy smile.  

 “Hello,” his deep voice intoned.

 Taehyung?