Scandal

one | 시점

There was a chorus of understanding hums as they disbanded. Only Eris remained, pursing her lips in a pensive frown.

Eddie stilled. Then he dragged a hand over his face and shot her a dry look.

"What is it now?"

Eris had always made it a point to stay out of Luke Young's business--just thinking of his name reminded her of his sister, of her brother, of the fateful accident that had ripped his brother's heart to shreds.

"Eddie," she began, carefully, "is there any other story I can do?"

His brows shot up. "Just because you bought me coffee doesn't mean you get to be all picky with your job."

"I'm not." She opened her mouth to say more, but nothing came.

Eddie gave her a weird look.

"Isn't Hope Jung friends with your dad?" he asked sharply. "Haven't you said that before?"

Hope and her father had been college roommates. Eris met his eyes curiously. "What about it?"

"Jung is the executive producer of Guardian," said Eddie. "Min and Young's newest drama. They just aired their first two episodes this week."

"So..."

"So, this job should be easy, because you've already got connections." Eddie got up. "I'll give you seventy-two hours because I'm feeling nice. Honestly, it should be more than enough time for a crazy reporter like you."

✦

"Eris!" Nico Han's head poked out from Cherub Proper's serving hatch. He was grinning. "Fancy seeing you here in the middle of the day."

"Been running around making calls," she breathed, stopping at the nearest table. "At least there's no one here."

His grin widened. "Want something to drink? Peach juice? Cup of coffee? Rice milk?"

"Ah..." She tilted her head and rose to her toes, peering over his tall, lanky figure into the bright kitchen. "Where's my dad?"

Nico was still grinning. "He's making kimchi in the back. I'll go get him. What do you want?"

She shrugged off her coat. "Milkis sounds good."

"Ha. Should've known." He ducked out of the kitchen, but not before characteristically banging his head. "Ouch."

Eris collapsed on the stool and rested her chin in both hands with a sigh through the nose. With lips pursed in a little frown, her eyes wandered around the Cherub Proper, her father's humble chimaek place.

At three in the afternoon, it had gone still. The heat fans were off, the tables empty in the absence of the rush hour. A hole-in-the-wall restaurant tucked into Downtown Seraph's busier streets, Eris's father had used his savings to open it shortly after the divorce. It was a humble place, all they could afford—a sizzling kitchen behind a sea of tables harboring rattling metal stools. The smell of grease and sesame oil thickened the air. Its logo—a single angel wing—was carved into its wooden headboard outside as streams of cars and people careened past.

The divorce had happened when she was six. She remembered the light of the kitchen flickering, the bang of doors and cabinets, shouting voices filling the house with such rage it seemed their whole tiny apartment was shaking. Soon the neighbors joined as well, yelling at them to shut their mouths and continue when the sun was up.

Then, one day, her mother had had enough of it. She'd packed her bags, taken Elias, and left.

Back then, she had been a working woman worn thin by the demands of life. Now, she was Valencia Lim, chief reporter of Angel News Network, living a luxurious life in some grand apartment in Angel Hills. Eris hadn't seen her since her high school graduation, and that was only for one fleeting moment--a moment that had somehow pieced her heart together and broken it into pieces, all at once.