Short Fiction-The Man in the Black Fidora

He was ready. Cool headed. Wearing his favorite jacket. Looking sharp. Nothing ever got to Jun Wan. At least that’s the impression he gave off. He sat back coolly in his seat and whistled quietly to himself. Nobody would suspect a guy like him to be up to no good. He looked like a regular young guy on the subway. Floppy hipster hairdo, nicely dressed, probably on his way to school or to a video game room to hang out with friends. But Jun Wan was anything but regular. He knew from a very young age that one day he’d change things. He didn’t know how. But he knew he would. And today on this subway, in a small city in South Korea, would be beginning of the rest of his life.

Across from him sat Park Jit. A funny young man, who had worn the same hat since the second grade. A black fidora, with a red feather on the side. Park Jit liked to appear strange and got off on saying strange things at inappropriate times. He spent a lot of his spare time making music montages in his basement apartment and hoped one day to own his own advertising firm where he could put his strange and interesting views on giant billboards. Little did Park Jit know, but he’d gotten on the wrong subway. And whether he liked it or not, his life was about change too.

In the pocket of his coat Jun Wan held the secret that would change everything. A small package, wrapped in white paper with the letters I.E.G. printed on it. And in exactly 18 minutes from now the contents of this package would be revealed.

Jun Wan glanced around the subway car, surveying the scene. Neon sign with red letters, man holding manuscript, falling in and out of sleep, a girl in a black dress, wearing a blond wig at the far end of the car, sitting slumped sideways against the seat. Was she drunk? high? He had seen this scene so many times before and could never quite decide. Jun wan had been dreaming of this same subway for months now. The lighting, the smell, the people…it was only Park Jit that didn’t fit. Park was not in the dream. Why was we here? What did it mean?

Jun Wan looked at the clock at the far end of the car, 8:46. Seventeen minutes left.