There's something on his back. It's a constant thought he wants to constantly ignore. Except it never goes away, and it rings true all the way down to his bones.

Min-ho seems always to have something to hide from himself or the world. As the train screeches along, getting him closer to his place of work, he's reminded that there's nothing ordinary about him.

Not one god damn thing.

As if life just wants to keep punching him, a familiar wave of nausea hits him. Shortly followed by an array of strange voices that bombard his mind, which he will never acknowledge as existing either. Nope. The voices are definitely not real.

I'm late for work... Did I pack Sharon's lunch correctly?... Where do I get off to make it to Macy's?

This one is nearly done...

He tunes them out with a sigh of heavy defeat and looks up. His lightly hooded eyes see nothing, only his backpack, as he catches his reflection on the subway's glass doors. They let him out with the city's flow, and he knows no one around him sees or hears anything strange either. Yet the thought remains.

He tries to ignore the weight on his shoulders and back. He tries to straighten himself up, but it's like gravity takes it personally and gets heavier yet. Around Min-ho is the fast-forward pace of everyone else, but he's stuck dragging his feet against his will. He can't move fast with the invisible weight clinging to him like morning static.

Telling his psychiatrist about the thought has proven useless. She tells him it's probably a symbolic kind of weight he feels. All the weight is just the depression, anxiety, and, well, he'd like a symbolic wagon so he can maybe tow his symbolic weight around instead of carrying it.

The only place that somehow lightens his load is his place of work. It's a short way from the subway, and soon enough, he stands before the entrance. The welcoming sign before him reads the Bronx Zoo.

A small flutter runs through him, and suddenly, the weight migrates from his shoulders to his ankles. The feeling of grips around them is too light to bother him. But in the back of his mind lingers the unsettling thought.

Why do I feel someone's grip around my ankles anyway?

Walking to his office is pleasant, as always. Along the way, he takes mental notes of everything he can see on the surface, with something almost mimicking energy. Perhaps it's passion.

Charlie, the orangutan, is munching on a clump of green. The elephants are still snug away in their night enclosure but are stirring awake, knowing it's almost breakfast. Personnel come in and out of the bird and reptile enclosures with different buckets of worms, grain, and meat.

The public is not allowed to enter this early, but it'll open soon. Kids with wonder will go through the gates with eyes set ablaze to see everything they can. Most are going straight for his charges-his marvelous lions and tigers, surely-but this holiday weekend is extra special. It's the debut of a new exhibit and three beautiful rescued jaguars.

In his office, there are three desks. The one to his right as he enters has always been vacant, and Dr. Dola Musa has always occupied the one across from his to the left. Doctor Musa has been here the longest of the three and is the Head Veterinarian.

Dr. Nyla Martinez, who owns the empty desk, has never shown up for work-not one day in his five years here. He does not understand how she's still considered an employee.

"You're going to meet Nyla today," a happy voice says to him from behind.

He turns around, his expression conveying that he's sorry he's in the way, as he lets in Dr. Musa. She laughs, passes him to her desk, and starts unloading her briefcase and lunch bag. Her dark eyes watch him, still standing at the doorway.

Under her white lab coat, Dola wears a lovely bright summer red dress with a matching headwrap. She matches her ensemble with flat, closed-toe brown boots. The doctor often tries to express her Haitian culture openly, and he likes her for it, especially when she does it with food.

Looking over to the empty desk, he says, "She actually exists?"

Dola replies, "Ugh, duh. Do you think we keep her nameplate on her desk as a permanent, ongoing prank of some sort? She really does exist, and she's coming from a retreat the zoo and university sent her on a while back. She has provided quite a good amount of research, and thanks to her, the zoo will receive a lot more funding."

"Wonderful." He puts a pin on the matter and shuffles to his desk.

His only hope is that she'll be like Dola, dedicated solely to the animals. No idle chit-chat he doesn't understand or any unwarranted advice on how to do his job. All of that just reminds him of his university days when he could keep up with lively people. He just can't now, and it's so taxing to pretend.

As if reading his mind, Dola mentions, "Relax, she's hardly going to be here in the office. She'll literally be pestering the keepers on every last detail of the beasts under our charge. She's a bit like you, antisocial but hot-in a dark, gloomy way."

"Okay, well, on that note, I'm going to bathe myself in some blood and visit Jason." Min-ho is only slightly sorry for his dark humor. Jason is a black-maned lion who would love it if he entered his enclosure drenched in blood.

Without warning, an odd, bright voice retorts, "Please be kidding."

"Oh, that's her!" Dr. Musa gets up from her desk with open arms and a big, welcoming smile across her full cheeks.

Nyla whispers into Dola's ear, "Doctor, this junior is not nearly as depressing as you said he was. He's more so."

"Go easy on him," the doctor whispers back sweetly.

In short, Nyla Martinez is not at all what he was expecting. She was said to be older than him by four years or so, but she didn't look like it. Min-ho tries to regain his breath after taking it all in.

She has straight, long brown hair that falls gracefully beyond her waist. Underneath her lab coat, she wears a simple flannel and cargo pants in beige. The lady has a model's body with a nice undertone of muscle, and he can't help but stare a second too long at her generous chest. Her ample breasts make the buttons strain to do their job properly. His blue eyes meet her grey stormy ones, and something like a rip current splits his nerves at their ends. Something about this woman he suddenly realizes he finds attractive.

Minding his manners, he also gets up to greet her. Min-ho, being the clumsy guy he is, accidentally hits his leg against the edge of his desk as he stands. The women hear the collision, and both give each other a worried glance, but they say nothing, somehow knowing that Min-ho would get frustrated if they did. Min-ho tries not to get all red about it, but that just makes his cheeks flush even more.

Nyla's face almost contorts with sympathy as he awkwardly gets to her. She has to admit that besides the apparent physical fatigue he suffers from, the young man is gorgeous. If he smiles, she bets she'll drool. Sadly, he seems to suffer greatly for some reason. Part of her is pondering why, while the other parts really just want to visit the jaguars.

"It's long overdue to meet you, Dr. Martinez." The somewhat raggedy man sticks out a hand to shake and smiles the best he can. Nyla can tell it's not easy for him to make an effort to greet her enthusiastically so as she happily shakes his hand.

Min-ho notices that her eyes suddenly widen as they fall randomly to the floor. Her grip grows a tad too harsh for him as he pulls away.

Stop looking down, Nyla, or it will notice you. She whispers in her mind, not noticing that Min-ho freezes for a second as they start with some small talk.

There's no accent, so obviously, he was born in America. Dola and Nyla do have a small one each, seeing how Nyla comes from somewhere very far away and that Dola is originally from Haiti.

Is that... Nyla's stormy eyes look down at Min-ho's feet some more.

A Hunger gripping onto his ankles?

She catches his wide blue eyes as the terror of her unspoken words shines clear from them, but also, there's a sheen of tears. It's like he's relieved of something suddenly.

"Can you... hear me?" She mentally asks.

It's the first time someone has noticed Min-ho's odd and maddening gift of hearing other people's thoughts. For the first time in a while, he has to draw attention to what he has so desperately tried to ignore more than anything else-all because this girl seems to be different from anyone else he has ever met.

Min-ho denies the ability to himself every waking moment. Yep, there's no way he can read thoughts. All the voices he hears are just different demons speaking various tones and languages in his broken mind. His therapist would chop it up to his schizophrenic deposition anyway, so why mention the noise at all?

"Dr. Martinez, do I have something on my face?" Min-ho decides to delude himself and this stranger simultaneously. Whatever odd encounter this can turn into, he is fully closing himself to it. He already has enough to worry about. His stupid brokenness can just go fuck itself.

Was it really my imagination? He seemed startled by my discovery of that thing around his ankles. Hmm...

Min-ho keeps his face as flat as possible while wishing her good luck on her first day back. The group disperses as he retrieves the lab coat around his brown office chair. When he gets back up with his clipboard in hand, he smiles faintly at the attractive new colleague in his life since she must see him out being close to the door.

He doesn't mind that she smiles back hollowly, but he trembles, making out her expression. Her dark grey eyes are not looking at him as he walks by to leave. Instead, the focus is on Min-ho's feet, looking at them in the same way a lion would when focused on food.

What is she looking at? Min-ho pales as his distressed face meets the morning sun outside.

Looking down at his ankles, he sees nothing like always. He walks onward to start his morning duties, hoping that one day he'll look back on these moments and laugh at how much his sickness sucked and made him think weird things.

Nyla holds a smirk as she leans on her desk, her elbow supporting her chin. Whether that kid could hear her or not doesn't matter. What matters is the strong Hunger he has attracted. It might know what she is, but if that were true, it would have let the kid loose and gone after her. If it didn't leave the kid while knowing her true nature, then that means Min-ho is being raised by it to become extremely delicious. The dark thing is not going to let go of its investment easily.

Just who are you, little junior? Her mind muses.

Nyla feels a change in the air as she takes out her work. But just what kind of change is coming her way? Good? Bad?

As always, it's too early to tell.