MY LOVER'S GOT HUMOR. geum seongje

prologue / when the phone rings.

And when the phone rings,

    Mi Jaehee answers it for her first time in years.

  It was already dark outside, even though it wasn't that late. But some people might've disagreed with that—because to Mi Jaehee, it was never late enough. The phone, her phone, had been ringing again and again, maybe for the seventh time in a row now. Each call short, as if the person calling didn't actually want to talk—just to make sure she heard it.

Her arms were sprawled across the desk, like a puppet whose strings had long gone slack and useless. She had fallen asleep right there hours earlier, very simply dozing off from exhaustion. Maybe just the relentless nights spend sitting across her windowsill, smoking more and more cigarettes, weren't exactly all that. Messy, jet-black hair—always a little too long for her liking—fell across her shoulders and face like theatre curtains hiding what wasn't yet ready to be seen.
Beside her sat a cup of boldly-black coffee, gone cold long ago. Scattered across the desk were glittering eyeshadow packets, a crumpled pieces of paper that should've been in the rubbish times ago, a thin notebook, and a few pens.

  A quiet, rough sound escaped her throat as she stirred. The ringing echoed in her ears—ring, ding, ding—like a mantra that was meant to haunt her down even in the dreams. Tilting her head with a frown, she pressed her cheek to the cold desk and reached for the phone. Squinting at the harsh white light, she sighed.

    The name on the screen read 'Cha Sejin.'

And just that. Just the girl's name.

No photo. No nickname, or a pinkish, girly and glittery emoticon aside.

        Just the name.

     And somehow, just that name alone—so plain, but so, so familiar—sank into her stomach like a hollow, dumbish ache.

She chewed the inside of her cheek and straightened slowly, still staring at the screen. Her fingers tightened around the phone. Mi Jaehee hadn't answered a single call in years. She always hung up the minute someone called her. Allowed messages only.

So, why did she let the phone kept ringing right now?

She clicked down on the green button.

"I don't like when people make calls to me, Sejin," she said flatly, staring at the wall ahead, barely lit by moonlight spilling through the window.

There was ragged, shallow breathing on the other end. Some hushed voices. A sob.

She pursed her lips tightly, but her face remained blank.

"Sejin-ah. Only messages," Jaehee said in a slow, calm voice. "So why do you keep calling me?" She asked. "What's going on, Cha Sejin-ah?"

There was a longing, trembling sob on the other side. The breathing was even louder now. "Jaehee? Jaehee, please—" Sejin's voice trembled, breathless and broken down. "They're going to end me. They're—here.  Something bad is going to happen to me—"

  A startled scream echoed out. Her eyes snapped sharper. And wilder. Several voices rung out from the other line, even though muffled, because the girl's sobs were the most heard thing on the call. Someone hit something in the background. Someone else laughed—pitchy and high, mocking and malicious.

"Cha Sejin," she said evenly. "Fine. Location. Now."

  The chair scraped the floor as she stood. She emerged down onto her house's hall in a total rush. Jacket slung messily over her shoulders. Shoes barely tucked on her feet. She didn't even lock the door before running into the rain-soaked streets, eyes sharp, and heart unsteady.