Later that night Bonita found herself in her apartment. Work had been just as turbulent as normal, but her mind was even more so due to what Minho had told her that morning. She cast her eyes down beside her where the scribbled-up reboot script of 'Bubble' sat as if it were a person itself. Her fingers tentatively flipped back the page to look at the first page. This seemed to be the most heavily abused with notes. That made sense to Bonita. The hardest part about writing a story was figuring out the best place to start.

Getting up from where she was seated, she moved to kneel in front of her television stand. Tucked lovingly underneath the television was a DVD player and below that copies of her favorite shows. The first time that Minho had come over to her apartment and seen her collection, he had asked why she didn't stream the shows. To Bonita, there was something nostalgic about watching her shows this way. It was like tangibly owning a piece of home.

Grabbing the series case for 'Bubble', she opened it up on the small part of the exposed stand under the television, popping the last disc free. Even though it was scary to entertain the thought of trying out for being the head writer of the reboot, she still couldn't help it. However, she knew to do so she had to have a refresher on where it left off. Turning the player on and putting the disc in, she soon got off the floor and moved to sit back down on the couch beside the script again. As she turned the television on and the menu of the DVD loaded, the washing machine running behind her seemed to tumble louder in anticipation. Soon the logo to the show suddenly floated onto her screen. She couldn't keep the small smile off her face at the sight.

Bonita picked up the DVD player remote from the side table, clicking to 'episode selection' and then the finale. The screen temporarily faded to black before the show came into view. It was like no time had passed at all. There was the familiar industrial looking place that Bang Chan called home.

The story had it that Bang Chan's family was very rich and eccentric. They had heard whispers of the end of the world like everyone else, so they started to prepare for it. They built an underground bunker, stocked with all the supplies one would need to last a lifetime. Everyone had thought they were crazy, but they never gave up. The day the world as they knew it would end came faster than they had anticipated though. They barely had time to hide their fifteen-year-old son underground in the bunker before they ended up killed.

Isolated from the outside world where life was in the process of being obliterated, Bang Chan had learned throughout the course of the series to survive in a world of his own. However — with each passing year — it became harder for him. The whole plot of what was accidentally the final season was that Bang Chan, who was now twenty-six and had therefore been in the bunker for roughly eleven years, was starting to struggle. He was not only going through depression from the isolation, but his supplies were starting to run out.

"They either didn't expect to live this long, or they severely underestimated the supplies needed," said Bang Chan to himself.

Getting up from the concrete floor where he had just been doing push-ups as part of his routine to stay sane, he moved to walk towards the faux window wall where the sink had been installed. The camera made sure to display his outfit as he walked. It started by looking at his dusty brown combat boots, panning slowly up his stressed light blue jeans before focusing in on the sweat running in beads down his shoulders and soaking into his black tank top. Bonita watched as he reached the sink and twisted the handle by the faucet only for no water to sputter out.

"Has the day finally come?" muttered Bang Chan. "Does this mean my time has run out too?"

His eyes turned towards the door that had been shut ever since his parents put him in there. Bonita reached out for the remote and pressed 'pause', freezing the show on Bang Chan's dismayed and perplexed face. That had been the end of the last episode. Bonita knew that it was meant to be a cliffhanger for the viewers to make them wonder if he decided to try to venture out from his 'bubble' or not. The writer obviously hadn't anticipated the sad irony of the lead actor's death.

Bonita's eyes went from the paused screen to the script beside her. Picking it up, she carried it over to her writing desk by the window and put it down.

'If I was in control of his story, what would I make happen next?' she thought, pulling out a chair and having a seat.

As she picked up a pen to start jotting down ideas, she heard a few drops of rain ping against the window in front of her. It was obvious that a storm was coming, but that was okay with Bonita. The rain was comforting to her in a way. Staying focused on the page, she continued writing only to be interrupted a few minutes later by her cell phone ringing. Picking it up she saw that it was none other than Minho trying to FaceTime her.

"Hey, Bonita. Are you home?" Minho asked as she answered the call.

"Yes," she said as she gestured at her lamplit apartment behind her. Her eyes squinted as she watched him holding a folder up over his head as he made his way towards the door. "Did you forget your umbrella again?"

"Yes...I thought it wasn't going to rain."

"When doesn't it rain? I thought you were supposed to 'know'."

"Ha. Funny," he remarked with an eye roll, muttering an 'excuse me' to a person near him as he shouldered outside into the rain. "It's just rain right now, but it's supposed to be more than that later. Don't go anywhere tonight and stay in."

"Yes, sir," she said, giving him a mock salute and earning another eye roll.

A silence filled the air between them for a moment as Minho half ran through the wet parking lot towards his car. As he reached his vehicle, he decided to speak once more.

"I've got to go, Bonita. I knew I wouldn't be able to talk long. I just wanted to warn you to make sure you stayed safe."

Bonita could tell there was a question he wasn't asking and also knew exactly what it was. That's what she appreciated about their friendship the most. He was supportive, but he also respected when she didn't want to be pushed on a topic. Bonita knew he must be curious to know if she was going to try for the head writer position of the reboot, but she honestly wasn't sure herself still. She had just started jotting down ideas.

"Travel home safe. I'll talk to you later."

With that, Bonita hung up the call. Getting up from her desk, she walked past her still paused television and into the small 'L' shaped kitchen. She grabbed a few candles out of her cupboard with matches along with her flashlight before trekking back into the living room and over to her desk. Once seated at her desk again after setting down the assortment of light sources, Bonita looked at the ideas she had jotted down. They were messy at best, but that was sometimes how the best ideas started. Picking up her pen once more, she began to try to brainstorm ideas a few ideas, ending up brainstorming her way right to sleep.

- - -

A loud clap of thunder woke up Bonita sometime later that evening. It startled her awake so fast that she whipped her face up from the desk she had been using as a pillow. A sheet of paper clung to her cheek, causing her to have to peel it off and adjust her eyes to the dull light of her apartment again. The crash of thunder had been so loud that she was surprised it hadn't caused the power in her apartment to go out. She could just barely make out the lights of other apartments across the street, looking like ships lost in the night.

Standing up from her desk, she was about to walk towards the kitchen for a drink when she noticed the television. The screen was dark, and at first she assumed it was because she had accidentally left it on pause too long. Bonita soon came to realize that this assumption wasn't true though when she saw the cigarette thin smoke coming from her DVD player.

"No fricking way..." she said out loud as she walked over to it.

Kneeling in front of her television, she looked at the tendrils of smoke drifting out of it. It would be just her luck that the thunder didn't knock out the lights but would instead fry a piece of equipment that meant the most to her.

"The disc is even stuck inside..." muttered Bonita to herself.

As she unplugged the smoking DVD player from the wall so it didn't catch on fire, she heard a noise behind her. It was coming from the laundry room, but it didn't sound like any sound her washer or dryer had ever made. Bonita even thought it might be a mouse only it sounded much too large to be one. Her heart began to increase in speed as another crack of thunder temporarily muted the sound she had just heard. Bonita stood up and looked at the semi-open laundry room door, noticing a shadow elongated on the ground. A shadow of a person.

She was currently closer to her desk than she was the kitchen. In order to get to the kitchen from where she was, she would leave herself exposed to whoever was hiding in there. Walking back to her desk, she grabbed a pen. Bonita held it as steady as she could in her hands as she walked with slow yet steady steps towards the laundry room door. She kept hoping that it might be Minho pulling a trick on her, but she knew that Minho would know better than to do that. He also wouldn't break into her apartment to pull a prank on her.

'You should be calling the police you moron,' thought Bonita as she got closer and closer to her destination.

Even though Bonita knew that was what she should do, she could also hear the rain hammering down like a percussive orchestra from above. No doubt the roads were flooded, which would make any emergency response delayed or impossible. She knew she would just have to face whatever threat may be in her apartment solo.

Bonita's hand trembled slightly as she reached out to grab the doorknob, slowly pushing the door open all the way after taking one more breath to calm her nerves.

The moment the door swung open fully, she locked eyes with the man crouched in front of her washing machine as they both let out a scream.