The double doors of the hotel room are shaking. There's a padlock on them, straining, looking close to breaking. I notice, but don't pay it much heed. I'm lying next to my lover and we're talking about nothing: the weather, the room, ourselves.

The doors break open.

I know the faces that appear. They're members of our ballroom dance team, all wearing the same blue jackets. My lover stands up and walks to the side, watching.

One face stands out--a girl I've never liked.

"Why do you have the right to make people bleed?" She whispers as she aims a scalpel at my stomach.

"No, I didn't, I've never..."

"Blood for blood," she cuts me off as she starts slicing.

I bleed Hoya blue.

I turn to my lover. "Why don't you do something?"

He looks at me, still contemplating. "They're just expressing their religious beliefs. I'm not sure I have the right to interfere."

As I die, I wake up still beside him.

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