One Shot Cafe
Lucky to meet you
Request:
Name: Serena
Group: Winner
Bias: Seungyoon
Genres:Romance
Title: Lucky To Meet You
Your POV
I always figured I’d be one of those people who would never find that special someone to spend the rest of their lives with. It’s amazing how your world spiraling out of control can change all that. Turns out, I may have found someone after all. Nobody really understands a lot of what’s happened in the last few hours, but one thing I know for sure is that I didn’t expect my “someone” to be him. I probably would have never found out, either, if it weren’t for how the last few days unfolded.
Monday morning was just as normal as any other day. School started at 8:00am, sharp. We were all in our seats, though some of the cockier seniors were sitting on top of their desks. It was like some sort of ritual they had to perform to prove they were now at the top of the school food chain.
I hadn’t really noticed when he came in, but at some point he did, and he took his seat with all of us right before class started. Attendance was taken. When my name was called, I answered in the same sleepy voice I used every morning. Seungyoon’s response had a lot more cheer in it than anyone should be able to muster at 8 in the morning.
Class continued as it usually did: the teacher expected us to take notes, and in reality we spent more time passing them. She used to scold us, but by this point in the year, I think we had all reached a bit of a detente. Halfway through class, however, something happened that would rock us to our cores.
The loudspeaker started making the tell-tale buzzing noise that meant someone was getting ready for an announcement. We were all prepared to ignore it, but the panic in the principal’s voice woke us from our daydreams. A terrifying urgency was broadcast to the entire school.
“Lock the doors! Close the windows! Teachers, turn your classroom televisions on and keep them on Channel Five. Students, try to remain calm. You may take out your cellphones to contact family.” All this shouting, then a click, and then silence. Just silence.
We sat in confusion, blankly staring at each other. Our teacher, Mrs. Henderson, cautiously walked over to the television. She paused before turning it on. I saw her hand jerk back in hesitation for a moment before she pressed the power button. It was set on Channel Five already, but none of us expected what we saw.
The town square was littered with people. Some were lying on the ground, either terribly injured or dead. Others were fleeing, frantically bumping into each other and tripping everywhere. But it was the last group that was the hardest to absorb. They weren’t running around in a panic, but they hadn’t been injured either. They were calmly walking, limping aimlessly around the center of our town. It seemed like they weren’t intent on getting anywhere, as they weren’t heading away from the chaos or toward it. And then we saw one figure break from its rhythmic limp to reach out to a passing sprinter, claw at her arm, and sink his teeth into her neck.
Screams filled the classroom. Mrs. Henderson ran to lock the door and shut the windows tight. She was trying desperately to get our attention, but everyone was already frantic. I had huddled with my usual group of friends, one of whom had already broken down in tears and needing consoling.
It felt like hours had passed. Some students were still in tears, some were using their phones to call family, and some were glued to the television, perhaps hoping that proximity to the coverage would help them better understand what was happening. Most of us, however, were just sitting, waiting for whatever was coming for us. We still didn’t know what it was, but we knew it had to be bad.
Halfway through the day, only a few hours into what felt like a lifetime ordeal, I found out what panic turned into when it didn’t have an outlet. John, one of the students I liked well enough but had never really talked to, snapped. And when John snapped, so did our assurances that our locked classroom was the safest place to be at a time like this.
The news had been cycling through the same stories for hours. We had been informed that the figures stalking and attacking passersby were very much like the zombies we had all seen in movies. We’d also been informed that a straight shot to the head was the only way to kill them. Eventually, after the third safe-zone report listed areas that were still fairly uninhabited by the zombies, John had had enough.
Each hourly report had fewer and fewer zones listed, and by this one John had stopped staring attentively at the television. By the end of the report, he had gotten quiet. He calmly stood, walked over to the wall with the power outlet, and yanked the cord out of its socket. We all just watched and he strolled over to the nearest desk, picked it up, and hurled it out the window, shattering the plate glass. That’s when everyone started panicking. He proceeded to throw things until he broke every single window in the classroom. Then, he grabbed his backpack and a yardstick and kicked the door open, leaving the rest of us behind in the classroom that now offered little more protection than a cardboard box.
A group of girls ran out behind him, screaming and crying, leaving their personal items behind in the rush. And then there were ten: me, three girls, five guys, Mrs. Henderson, and Seungyoon.
I was watching Seungyoon. I’d never really paid him any attention before, and in all this mess, he seemed oddly levelheaded. Watching him helped me calm down, but with all of my attention on Seungyoon, I didn’t recognize the low moaning sounds erupting from the hallway until they were close. Very close.
Within seconds, our small posse was broken up by two of the undead attackers. It happened so quickly. The lamps were knocked over by people sprinting to escape, screams emerged from the throats of the previously quiet group, desks and chairs were thrown aside, and a hand pulled me away.
My stare was frozen on the classroom, but the grip was strong as it led me out of the destruction and into the hallway. I was flailing and kicking, assuming it was one of the bloodthirsty corpses. Finally, the hand that had dragged me out of the scuffle gently grabbed my chin, forcing me to stop kicking and look up. It was Seungyoon.
Stuttering and stammering, I began to pull myself together and snapped back into reality. Seungyoon and I looked at each other and began discussing what we knew about the situation: They were zombies. They were violent. They were slow. And we were alone. Seungyoon suggested we look for weapons, but all we could find were some broom handles, staple guns, and a metal bar. He grabbed my hand, and I instinctively held it tightly. Then we ran.
“Let’s go to the roof,” I suggested.
“You think it’s safe up there?” Seungyoon responded.
“Yeah, well, in movies it seems the roof is a good place to start...a view of the area, and the altitude means those...things...would have to climb a bit to get to us. We could even signal survivors maybe.” I looked at him expecting a reply, but he just smiled and laughed.
“Well, it’s better than staying here,” he said. Then he pulled me by the hand, and we headed to the roof.
The route to the roof was fairly quiet. Unfortunately, there was evidence the zombies had already been there, as we saw one body lying lifeless on the tile floor: it was one of our teachers, Mr. Hardwick. I gasped, and tears silently swam to my eyes. Before they could fall, however, Seungyoon held my hand tighter and whispered that it was going to be all right.
We got to the stairwell without any other...encounters...but when we hit the last door, we could hear a low growling on the other side. And then came the one good part of that day. Seungyoon turned to me and looked into my eyes as if he were trying to find words hidden in my pupils. He took a deep breath.
“__________,” he started, “whatever is behind this door, we’re going to fight it together. I want you to stay strong. Don’t give up. We’re not just going to fight together; we’re going to survive together. I want to survive, and I want you to survive. I’m so glad I got to you in time back there. I like you, ________; I have for a while. I probably wouldn’t have told you, well, ever, because you make me so nervous that my hands start to shake, but all of this…this madness made me realize something: if anything were to happen today, I’d want you to know that you are who I’d want to protect, that you are the only person I’d want to see if one of those monsters were to end it all. I’m really sorry to throw all of this at you right now, but I just couldn’t risk not telling you. I thought I’d always have time to tell you. I thought I’d always be able to think ‘maybe next class,’ but today changed all that, so here I am, letting you know that I want to survive this with you.” He stopped as nervously as he had started.
After all of those words rushed out of him, he sighed, looked down, and reached for my hand again. I nudged his hand away and wrapped my arms around his neck. Our hearts started beating even faster, grateful for the fact that we were both together and (perhaps foolishly) hopeful about the future. We were energized by that embrace and felt ready to take on the whole world. The steel door swung open, and we faced our first zombie together. We both swung for the head. I hit it first with the metal bar, and then he finished it off with the broom handle. After the corpse stopped moving we tossed it over the side of the building and secured the door. That was the moment we became fighters, and that’s where we are now, fingers intertwined, weapons ready, waiting to take on this chaos...together.
Name: Serena
Group: Winner
Bias: Seungyoon
Genres:Romance
Title: Lucky To Meet You
Your POV
I always figured I’d be one of those people who would never find that special someone to spend the rest of their lives with. It’s amazing how your world spiraling out of control can change all that. Turns out, I may have found someone after all. Nobody really understands a lot of what’s happened in the last few hours, but one thing I know for sure is that I didn’t expect my “someone” to be him. I probably would have never found out, either, if it weren’t for how the last few days unfolded.
Monday morning was just as normal as any other day. School started at 8:00am, sharp. We were all in our seats, though some of the cockier seniors were sitting on top of their desks. It was like some sort of ritual they had to perform to prove they were now at the top of the school food chain.
I hadn’t really noticed when he came in, but at some point he did, and he took his seat with all of us right before class started. Attendance was taken. When my name was called, I answered in the same sleepy voice I used every morning. Seungyoon’s response had a lot more cheer in it than anyone should be able to muster at 8 in the morning.
Class continued as it usually did: the teacher expected us to take notes, and in reality we spent more time passing them. She used to scold us, but by this point in the year, I think we had all reached a bit of a detente. Halfway through class, however, something happened that would rock us to our cores.
The loudspeaker started making the tell-tale buzzing noise that meant someone was getting ready for an announcement. We were all prepared to ignore it, but the panic in the principal’s voice woke us from our daydreams. A terrifying urgency was broadcast to the entire school.
“Lock the doors! Close the windows! Teachers, turn your classroom televisions on and keep them on Channel Five. Students, try to remain calm. You may take out your cellphones to contact family.” All this shouting, then a click, and then silence. Just silence.
We sat in confusion, blankly staring at each other. Our teacher, Mrs. Henderson, cautiously walked over to the television. She paused before turning it on. I saw her hand jerk back in hesitation for a moment before she pressed the power button. It was set on Channel Five already, but none of us expected what we saw.
The town square was littered with people. Some were lying on the ground, either terribly injured or dead. Others were fleeing, frantically bumping into each other and tripping everywhere. But it was the last group that was the hardest to absorb. They weren’t running around in a panic, but they hadn’t been injured either. They were calmly walking, limping aimlessly around the center of our town. It seemed like they weren’t intent on getting anywhere, as they weren’t heading away from the chaos or toward it. And then we saw one figure break from its rhythmic limp to reach out to a passing sprinter, claw at her arm, and sink his teeth into her neck.
Screams filled the classroom. Mrs. Henderson ran to lock the door and shut the windows tight. She was trying desperately to get our attention, but everyone was already frantic. I had huddled with my usual group of friends, one of whom had already broken down in tears and needing consoling.
It felt like hours had passed. Some students were still in tears, some were using their phones to call family, and some were glued to the television, perhaps hoping that proximity to the coverage would help them better understand what was happening. Most of us, however, were just sitting, waiting for whatever was coming for us. We still didn’t know what it was, but we knew it had to be bad.
Halfway through the day, only a few hours into what felt like a lifetime ordeal, I found out what panic turned into when it didn’t have an outlet. John, one of the students I liked well enough but had never really talked to, snapped. And when John snapped, so did our assurances that our locked classroom was the safest place to be at a time like this.
The news had been cycling through the same stories for hours. We had been informed that the figures stalking and attacking passersby were very much like the zombies we had all seen in movies. We’d also been informed that a straight shot to the head was the only way to kill them. Eventually, after the third safe-zone report listed areas that were still fairly uninhabited by the zombies, John had had enough.
Each hourly report had fewer and fewer zones listed, and by this one John had stopped staring attentively at the television. By the end of the report, he had gotten quiet. He calmly stood, walked over to the wall with the power outlet, and yanked the cord out of its socket. We all just watched and he strolled over to the nearest desk, picked it up, and hurled it out the window, shattering the plate glass. That’s when everyone started panicking. He proceeded to throw things until he broke every single window in the classroom. Then, he grabbed his backpack and a yardstick and kicked the door open, leaving the rest of us behind in the classroom that now offered little more protection than a cardboard box.
A group of girls ran out behind him, screaming and crying, leaving their personal items behind in the rush. And then there were ten: me, three girls, five guys, Mrs. Henderson, and Seungyoon.
I was watching Seungyoon. I’d never really paid him any attention before, and in all this mess, he seemed oddly levelheaded. Watching him helped me calm down, but with all of my attention on Seungyoon, I didn’t recognize the low moaning sounds erupting from the hallway until they were close. Very close.
Within seconds, our small posse was broken up by two of the undead attackers. It happened so quickly. The lamps were knocked over by people sprinting to escape, screams emerged from the throats of the previously quiet group, desks and chairs were thrown aside, and a hand pulled me away.
My stare was frozen on the classroom, but the grip was strong as it led me out of the destruction and into the hallway. I was flailing and kicking, assuming it was one of the bloodthirsty corpses. Finally, the hand that had dragged me out of the scuffle gently grabbed my chin, forcing me to stop kicking and look up. It was Seungyoon.
Stuttering and stammering, I began to pull myself together and snapped back into reality. Seungyoon and I looked at each other and began discussing what we knew about the situation: They were zombies. They were violent. They were slow. And we were alone. Seungyoon suggested we look for weapons, but all we could find were some broom handles, staple guns, and a metal bar. He grabbed my hand, and I instinctively held it tightly. Then we ran.
“Let’s go to the roof,” I suggested.
“You think it’s safe up there?” Seungyoon responded.
“Yeah, well, in movies it seems the roof is a good place to start...a view of the area, and the altitude means those...things...would have to climb a bit to get to us. We could even signal survivors maybe.” I looked at him expecting a reply, but he just smiled and laughed.
“Well, it’s better than staying here,” he said. Then he pulled me by the hand, and we headed to the roof.
The route to the roof was fairly quiet. Unfortunately, there was evidence the zombies had already been there, as we saw one body lying lifeless on the tile floor: it was one of our teachers, Mr. Hardwick. I gasped, and tears silently swam to my eyes. Before they could fall, however, Seungyoon held my hand tighter and whispered that it was going to be all right.
We got to the stairwell without any other...encounters...but when we hit the last door, we could hear a low growling on the other side. And then came the one good part of that day. Seungyoon turned to me and looked into my eyes as if he were trying to find words hidden in my pupils. He took a deep breath.
“__________,” he started, “whatever is behind this door, we’re going to fight it together. I want you to stay strong. Don’t give up. We’re not just going to fight together; we’re going to survive together. I want to survive, and I want you to survive. I’m so glad I got to you in time back there. I like you, ________; I have for a while. I probably wouldn’t have told you, well, ever, because you make me so nervous that my hands start to shake, but all of this…this madness made me realize something: if anything were to happen today, I’d want you to know that you are who I’d want to protect, that you are the only person I’d want to see if one of those monsters were to end it all. I’m really sorry to throw all of this at you right now, but I just couldn’t risk not telling you. I thought I’d always have time to tell you. I thought I’d always be able to think ‘maybe next class,’ but today changed all that, so here I am, letting you know that I want to survive this with you.” He stopped as nervously as he had started.
After all of those words rushed out of him, he sighed, looked down, and reached for my hand again. I nudged his hand away and wrapped my arms around his neck. Our hearts started beating even faster, grateful for the fact that we were both together and (perhaps foolishly) hopeful about the future. We were energized by that embrace and felt ready to take on the whole world. The steel door swung open, and we faced our first zombie together. We both swung for the head. I hit it first with the metal bar, and then he finished it off with the broom handle. After the corpse stopped moving we tossed it over the side of the building and secured the door. That was the moment we became fighters, and that’s where we are now, fingers intertwined, weapons ready, waiting to take on this chaos...together.
Notes
Hiya readers! I think watch 'the Walking Dead' has influenced me a little bit (a big bit!!)but I hope you guys liked it because it was still a love story!!!!!! Hope you enjoyed it (Mostly you Serena) and please remember to rate and subscribe. Please also comment if you like the one shot or not! Requesting is also still open.
Thanks! Hope you enjoyed it!!!!! :)
Done!
4/11/16