That was the only camera that Mr. Park found, but it wasn't soothing. The word stalker sent me reeling. "You can stay here," I covered my emotions and showed him the room where my younger sister normally stayed. She had just turned 18 and had taken a year off of school to travel. Before then, she moved with me to the city rather than live with our parents. Our parents were extremely lenient and didn't mind that she moved in with me.
He took a quick glance of the room and then nodded. He smiled kindly at me. "I'm sorry about the mix up, but I'll still do my best to protect you at all times," his voice was deep and sounded very authoritative. It made me feel more secure.
"It's fine. I'll just send over all the things you need," I said. I left him in the room only to hear someone knocking on my door again. I tensed slightly. I didn't even want to imagine who it was. Mr. Park poked his head out of the bedroom and looked at me, frozen in my place.
"Is everything alright?" He asked in concern. The knocking started again.
"Uh, yeah! It's just the door, I'll grab it," I said with determination. I went down the stairs and over to the door. I grabbed the handle boldly.
BANG BANG BANG!
I nearly had a heart attack. I opened the door rapidly and saw another man with a few bags in his hand. "I'm here to drop of stuff for a Joonyoung Park?" The guy said with annoyance in his voice. Mr. Park appeared next to me and accepted his luggage gratefully. He tipped the man. "You two are an odd pair..." he muttered before shuffling away. Mr. Park shut the door and collected his things.
"Are you sure you're alright? You wouldn't mind if I asked you exactly what happened with your stalker, right?" He asked. I shook my head. He nodded, his face all business.
I made myself a cup of tea and I sat on the couch. Joonyoung joined me shortly after he put all of his stuff away. He had a black computer on his lap and he sat across from me on the couch. He had changed out of his suit, but still managed to look classy in black sweatpants and a black shirt.
"Okay, tell me everything from the beginning," he said. I frowned at the thought and shakily went into my rendition of what had occupied the day before: the letter, the banging, the brick, the package. I didn't even like thinking about it. I was small, fairly thin, and I wasn't really taught how to defend myself. I'd watched enough Jackie Chan movies to know how to punch but that was pretty much it. I couldn't imagine what would happen if someone actually tried to come after me.
"I see. Do you have any idea who would do this to you?" He asked. He spoke in a gentler voice, as if he didn't want to scare me.
"No, I don't know anything. I feel so lost. I can't remember doing anything wrong that could have caused someone to want to hurt me," I answered. As I spoke, Mr. Park's hands pounded away on the keys.
"Well, I'll install some cameras of my own outside the loft to try and catch who might be terrorizing you," he said.
"Thanks Mr. Park. I feel a little better. Do you mind if I ask you a question or two?" I wondered.
"Of course," he nodded, still typing away. I thought of the first question that came to mind.
"Do you have a gun?" I asked with blatant curiosity.
"Yes. I'm licensed and registered to use it. I've also had extensive training, so no need to fear," he said without looking up.
"Have you ever had to use it?" I asked curiously. His fingers slowed until gradually they came to a stop.
"Yes," he replied curtly. I held my mug tighter. I felt like I had started talking about something that I shouldn't have. I picked up on his mood and changed the subject.
