Bodyguard *FANFIC EDITION*

Salty

Hearing the sound of the lock as I shut the door was freeing in a sense. I was all alone. There was no one watching me, and I didn't have to hold myself together anymore. But the ice around my brain didn't melt and I was still stunned. What now?

I expected to be terrified and full of anxiety at the thought of meeting my brother for the first time, but I felt nothing. Sleep. I need sleep. I agreed with myself ready to just get to bed, when I heard someone knock on the bathroom door.

"Someone's in there." I heard them say.

"How long have you been waiting?"

"I only just got here." What a way to spike my anxiety. I ran the tap, washing my hands before drying them on a small towel, ready to leave.

"Did you see her yet?" I stopped at the door. Surely, they mean me.

"Only for a second as she walked in."

"Do you think she's the same as the rest of them?"

"Probably, they all are. Do this, do that, make the leaves of my tea stand straight or I don't want it." They both chuckled. I suppose in a way I agreed. Most rich people were unbearably pretentious and entitled. God, I hope Minho is not like that or this is a waste of a meeting. I want nothing to do with that or to be known for that.

"I heard she doesn't speak much Korean. We should just pretend we only speak Korean." They both chuckled again. I was getting annoyed, but I understood them. I have been where they were. I served others to make money. I also talked badly about them behind their back.

The lock clicked and I could hear them jump away from the door. I opened the door, and I could see their happy faces suddenly turn grey. Wondering if I had heard them, if I was going to yell at them. But I just smiled.

I pretended to walk away for a second, before turning back around and playing along.

"Excuse me. Do you know where I could find Yoo-na?" I enquired as if I had no idea that one of them were her. They both had similar haircuts. A long bob with a full fringe. They both wore grey shirts and black trousers.

"That's me. Let me show you your room Miss." Her accent was suddenly thicker. They both began walking across the hall towards some stairs and I followed. My room was only a couple of steps from the staircase as they stopped and opened the door for me. They stepped inside, standing aside as I followed them in. The room was large with pale pink or orange wallpaper. It was hard to tell in the yellow light. The lights were built into the ceiling and a large bed was in the middle of the room with a window on each side. There was a wooden cupboard in front of the bed with a television mounted on the wall. It looked like a hotel room.

"Thank you." I smiled. I heard them chuckle behind me as I walked towards the door at the end of the room with a shower inside. I turned back around to look at them, approaching them closely.

"Sorry, very little English Miss." Hanee joined Yoo-na at their game. I suppose we all need a way to entertain ourselves when we work a lot.

"You spoke perfect English outside of the bathroom a couple of minutes ago." I watched their faces pale. "How strange." I shrugged my shoulders, clasping my hands together, before taking the door handle into my hand. "You're dismissed." I said with a smile, holding the door open for them.

"Miss Choi. Please allow us..." They bowed their heads ready to apologise, but I didn't need their apologies. I wasn't even angry. I was amused. I wondered how often they did that. How often they tried to fool the rich and how successful they had been. Does Minho think that they only speak Korean? Or English? Or not at all. It made me chuckle to think.

"No thank you, I don't need anything else." I rushed them out the door and they looked mortified. "Goodnight." I smiled once more, before shutting the door.

It felt like I had shed my skin. I showered and climbed into bed in the same shirt I had worn. I had made such a stand against the maids, I had to stick it out. I couldn't go and ask for clothing after rejecting their help to begin with and for what? Pettiness?

Suddenly I felt emotional. It was a mix of the unknown, the known, the expectations, the new people, anxiety and pure fear and isolation. I was isolated for an entire day and then rejected the only human contact that I could have. I'd been isolated my whole life, but never by choice.

I covered my eyes with the palms of my hands and inhaled a deep breath. That usually helped the tears go away. It did. They went away and I turned on one side and closed my eyes.

Will he be kind? Will he ask me to hand over all the money that his father left me? I don't want it. He can have it. It will be a pity if he put me through all this to plead his case, only for me to not want it to begin with. What do I want? Do I want a brother? What's the paradox? To return to my normal, prospect-less life and continue to live in isolation?