A/N: Sorry if this chapter is a little crappy. (typos, grammar mistakes and weird sounding sentences) Schools been really getting to me. And sorry again for such a long chapter... +3,000 words. Btw, this chapter is dedicated to a special friend who I promised that I will enter her character in another story but that story's on hold so I thought that she might like it better if her character was in this story. If not then sorry again!
"Excuse me." Yoonah taps shoulder of the man who's wearing a black, white and red uniform. He turns and she is greeted by the face of a young man. Maybe around his twenties. He smiles at her, bows and she returns the gesture, even though she wasn't really in the mood to smile and nor was her back wanting to bend. She reads his name tag — 'Eugene' — and continues. "Eugene."
"Yes ma'am."
"I need your help."
"How may I assist you?"
"I'm...a little lost. So, would you mind answering a few questions?"
"Not at all." He flashes another smile and gesture her to begin.
She hesitates at first. Not knowing how he'll react to her questions and if he would think she's crazy or has short term memory. She finally asks after a few seconds pass, "Where am I?"
Eugene's brows lift and he grins in amusement. He hasn't ever met someone like her. Asking where they are as if they've been kidnapped. Strange isn't it? "Ma'am, you are in Shanghai's most famous and five star hotel. And if you are wondering where Shanghai is, it's in China."
He let's out an airy chuckle as he watches her widen with disbelief. "Ch-China? China! Of corse."
He worries. And shows it concern for the puzzled women by asking, "Ma'am, you seem a little uneasy, is everything okay? If you wan't, I can request Mr. Park and Dr. Min to check up on you. I believe Mr. Min wanted you to rest after your accident."
"No, thank you. I'm fine."
"Are you sure. I don't think the two men would mind leaving their conference for a beautiful women like you."
"Oh please." Do not flirt with me, she thinks as she forces her lips to curve and form a fake smile. The last thing she needs in a time like this is a member of staff flirting with her. She dismisses his flirtation and mannerless behavior by changing the subject. "Um...what's the date today?"
"The 13th of November, 2016."
"Okay." She tries not to make a scene in front of Eugene knowing that he will try do tease her or do something she will not like. She presses her lips into a thin line and takes a second to comprehend the fact that she's been lights out for the past two days. "Um...You mentioned two names...w-who?"
As much as he wanted to comment on how strange her character is, he bits his tongue and replies with a small smile. "Mr. Park Jimin, the shorter man with black hair who you are rooming with in room 703. And Dr. Min Yoongi. The blond haired man. He was the one who treated your wound..."
"Okay." She mentally noted to watch out for the two. A blond haired man who goes by the name of Min Yoongi and Park Jimin...She bits her bottom lip with her hand under her chin. She perfectly remember his face and doubts that she will blindly walk into him. She knows that if she does, he'll most likely drag her back in the same room and have someone there to make sure she doesn't get out again. A human guard dog or just simply a guard. But with Yoongi, she doesn't know how he looks or what his physique is. All she's got is that he has blond hair. Turning back to Eugene, she speaks again. "Well...thank you for the help. That's all I needed."
He passes another smile. "The pleaser's all mine." Just when she was about to turn and walk away, he calls for her and she stops. "Have you had breakfast yet? Because the breakfast hall doesn't close until ten and there's still about an hour. I can bring some breakfast here," he gestures towards the table and chair near the end of the hallway, "if you are someone who wants to eat alone."
The idea doesn't sound all bad to her and the fact that she hasn't eaten in a while makes the idea sounded better than it should be. Again, she bits her bottom lip unconsciously and thinks. Would it matter if I take a second to just eat in a situation like this? Eugene finds her little habit cute. Her gaze falls back onto him and she nods.
His mind suddenly rushes through all the items in the breakfast menu. All high class and lavish and rich in flavor from different countries and different parts of China. Some modern like eggs and bacons and others traditional. But he suggests, "Pan-cakes?", being the first to pop out of his mouth and being what he had this morning. "I've heard that no ones left this hotel without at least one plate of Pan-cakes." He says in a convincing voice, his friendliness and happiness dripped in every word that left his mouth...it all felt a little odd and unusual for her.
She shakes her head 'no' before saying, "Isn't there anything like a muffin or something?"
"Chocolate muffin?" He tries again.
"Sure." She hold her upper right arm. "But can you get it a little quickly? Im in a...in a rush."
Yoonah sees him speed-walking off to fetch her a muffin. Chocolate muffin. Its doesn't make such sense to her that why he is trying so hard, and though there wasn't much effort being put from his side, it far more than she needed and expected.
+++
It has been a long time since she last tasted chocolate. It's familiar the way the flavor tickled her tastebuds. It reminded her of the past. A park full of trees, flowers and people with their family and friends. Enjoying the cool breeze of spring as they sit around on benches, blankets or tables. It reminded her of herself. Her younger self. In a light blue, knee high dress. And her baby hands wrapped around an ice cream cone overflowing with chocolate ice cream. If time was to be rewinded, then she would be waiting by her brothers side, a little impatient and rocking on the ball of her heel, while he would pull out his pocket money and exchange the crisp bill for a cold treat. She would happily take the ice-cream from his hand and place a 'thank you' kiss on his cheek. Then he would place a 'you're welcome' kiss on her nose. They would end up walking hand in hand, silently enjoying the company of their sibling. Matthew knew what his baby sister was going through and though she was too young to fully understand what she had done, is was enough to make her eyes dampen.
He never reminded her of what she did, nor did her mother and her father, at that time. They thought that she would eventually forget and go back to into being the bubbly and gleeful child she was... but she never did. Something in the eight year old girl had changed. It made her quiet and restrained. Her interest died in making new friends and interacting with other. She asked less questions and whenever another little girl like her would attempt to talk to her, she would just cut the conversation short with open-close door answers. Eventually, only a few kids would want to mix with her, unless it was regarding a group project in her school or a question of, "What's 9 x 3?"
Her parents stopped forcing her into social evens after seeing every time she would burst into tears. Besides playing tag and hide and seek like kids her age, she would revise what she learned that day in class. And besides watching cartoons for entertainment and time pass, she would spend time watching words that would paint pictures in her mind. Reading fiction and fantasy books would catch her interest and keep her occupied for the evenings. Matthew knew the difference between being an introvert and isolating one self from the outside world, but he didn't know where his sister stood. He was scared in the beginning, constantly worrying for his baby sister, but after sometime he learned that maybe it was for the better — her wanting to be by herself. He understood that there were some people who liked the company of words rather than people.
+++
Through the chase she's been going through, and is still going through, she hadn't had time to properly think let alone feed herself. She wonders what's happening back in her neighborhood. Did someone noticed the smell of dead bodies in the broken down house and call the police? Had someone noticed her absences from the five people family?
Yoonah pinches another piece of the chocolate muffin before placing it between her lips. She settles herself on a single red couch in the lounge area at the end of the hall. She find it to be a good place for her to rest and although the room she had waken up in was just as fine as where she is now, there was a high chance of Jimin coming back for her before she could make a proper move to escape. The ginormous fish tank next to her created a wall between her and the people passing by, keeping her hidden. Alone at last. In front of her was a wooden table with detailed carvings and in front of it was another couch set by the wall. The muffin quickly disappears and leaves crumbs on the carpeted floor. She drew her attention off the palm-sized fish and fold the wrapper, getting it ready for disposal.
She had entirely zoned herself out by focusing on the colorful fishes, and failed to notice the woman who seated herself across from Yoonah. The women looked no older than Yoonah, no younger either. When Yoonah turns, she sees that her shiny black hair was tied back into a loose ponytail, letting her side bangs free. The women was covered in black. Black hoodie, black jeans — those ripped, and black shoes. She tilted to head to the side before cocking her brows up then down.
"Hey." The woman finally says after letting a few awkward seconds pass. Yoonah says nothing and looks away. She doesn't find it necessary, or safe, to speak to people she doesn't know, especially in a situation like hers'. "Are you not going to talk to me? Ignore me too?" The woman speaks again, but this time, she slumps a little back onto the red couch. She seems unpleased and disappointed but not defeated. She stands up and makes her way in front of the table. Her left hand caries her weight as she leans over the table and extends her other arm out. "The name is Kim Heeyoung. But most people know me by the name Ev."
The women, Heeyoung, waits for the being in front of her to be taken by surprise or shock. But the only thing that Heeyoung sees is Yoonah's unchanged expression. She only steals a glance from the black-clothed woman before looking back at the colorful fish near the glass of the tank. Her fingers tap the thick glass and the fish dashes away from her.
Heeyoung frowns in disbelief. How does she now know me? Me? Surely she must have heard of such a famous person like me. If not by painting then my music surely. She tries and continues, "It's hard for people to recognize me when I'm not on stage or in a gallery while being introduced by the host. My staff doesn't want people to know exactly know how I look, or else I wont be able to move freely in the city streets."
Yoonah acts as if she isn't paying attention to the women but she is. Listening to every word even though she's not interested. She truly doesn't know who Kim Heeyoung is, but the way she introduces her self, she seems to be someone well known and important.
Heeyoung takes in Yoonah's frame. Her top differs from her bottom. The sweater looks brand-new, no lint to be seen, but her jeans look sketchy and worn. From her thighs to her knees to her ankles, not a single place that's not stained with dirt. It seems as if she's picked out the pair of jeans that were meant to be thrown out.
"Min Yoonah."
Heeyoung looks up from the soiled fabric and smiles. Finally, she thinks. "It's nice to meet you Min Yoonah." She bows at her and gets the same courtesy back. Staring a conversation is something that nether of the two women were good at, yet Heeyoung keeps trying and keeps circling back to them and the awkward silence in between.
"So...have you head of A Pice of Night?" Heeyoung asks, wondering if the person across from her knows even the littlest bit about her.
"I haven't really...listened to music in a while." Yoonah stopped listening and playing music after the separation of her and her brother. Her new family, now dead, never gave her the opportunity of having a choice or an opinion. Her desire for playing the piano had soon enough faded away.
A drop of hope glints in Heeyoung's eyes. "I have a keyboard set up in my room and if you want, I can play some works for you...Do you want to?"
+++
Yoonah listens to the soothing notes. Each notes makes her fall deeper into the pleasure of something she blocked out a long time ago. Heeyoung's fingers dance across the black and white tiles. Her body lightly sways back and forth with her hands pulling in and then apart. The woman didn't seem bad at all to Yoonah. She was shown many albums and a few awards that the woman carried with her. Not only that, photos and videos relating to her were searched on her laptop.
Kim Heeyoung is a twenty one year old artist. She works in both the art and music industry. She writes, produces and composes all her work with a helping staff. Her fans range from children to teenagers and to adults. Her first song made it big on the music charts and was then followed by a whole album containing fourteen songs. Her interest in art is equally leveled with her interest in music. The efforts she put in her brush and canvas as a musician was acknowledged and earned her a deserving spot in the list of modern artist with the ranking of 23 out of thousands.
The music stops and Heeyoung atlas opens her eyes. A slight drowsiness linger through her as she speaks, " Did you like it?"
Yoonah answers 'yes' with a nod of her head.
"Then are you considering to buy my albums?"
"Someday." She replies but quickly adds after seeing the woman frown, "Someday soon."
Heeyoung collects her music sheets, that she occasionally used while performing in front of Yoonah, and slides them inside a black and white folder. She passes a smile towards Yoonah before excuses herself to the bathroom. Her soft footsteps pat against the carpeted floor until the shutting of the bathroom door silences everything out.
Yoonah silently argues with herself. Debating on whether she should trust the musician and seek for her help by telling her situation or not bother at all. The majority of her thoughts force her up on her feet and pace back and forth in front of the woman's bed.
Heeyoung locks the door of the bathroom. She walks up to the double sink and rests one hand on the polished white marble while the other hand pulls out her phone from her pocket. She waits for the caller to pick up.
"The number you are trying to reach is currently switched off. Please try again later."
She mumbles a few curses while dialing a different series of numbers. The caller picks up but before he could even greet her, she speaks. "What is wrong with you? If I hadn't caught her in the lounge area, who knows where she would have gone. How the hell are you able to loose someone liker her so easily?"
"Where is she?" The other line asks, ignoring Heeyoung's question.
She sighs, "My room. Eight floor, second corridor and first door to the right."
The person on the other end nods on understanding, but then remembers that she cannot see him. "Alright. We'll be there is a few minutes."
"You know it's high time that both of you learn not to leave your captive alone."
"I'm not really in the mood to listen to you complain right now."
"You never are."
"Then you should know not to do that."
"Whatever." She groans, turning her back to the mirror and leaning on the marble. "Get over here already. She's obviously getting board and I don't think I can do much 'bout it."
A low chuckle rumbles out. "What? Where your songs lulling her to sleep."
"Shut up." As she was cutting the call, she heard another chuckle before the screen of her phone went black. She stuffs it back in her pocked and walks over to the door. "Huh?" The nob of the door turns but the door itself doesn't budge. She tries again but the door only opens and inch or two, just enough for her arm to fit though gap. Her hand feels around on the other side of the door and she can tell that someone wedged a chair in front of the door to prevent it from opening. Though the job wasn't done properly. It was done in a hurry. Her arm weaves back and she takes a few steps away from the door. Preparing herself, she rubs one of her shoulders before running into the door. It opens and she tumbles out.
She darts into her bedroom in search for someone she felt might have just escaped her undetectable trap. The absence of Yoonah causes another swear word to slip from Heeyoung's lips. "My day couldn't have gone any better, could it? Ugh, now I'll have to listen to Jimin's shit talk."
+++
"I don't even know why I thought someone out of the blues help me." Yoonah huffs to herself as she tries to walk as fast as she can away from the artists room. In stressful times, she can never keep her thoughts inside her head. The headache returns as she moves faster. The elevator door opens with a dings in the distance, dragging Yoonah's attention towards it. She runs. No. Sprints. She doesn't know where she would go, or what she would do if she got away from Jimin. Even if she could, somehow, to go the police and tell them what happened, where would she go then? Would they return her to the cold and dark house of her parents, where she swore she could hear her own cries echo in the four walls?
Her thoughts gets disturbed as she runs into someone who was coming out of the lift. The impact makes her shoulder throb once again, as if someone rubbed salt on her wound. She shuts her eyes tightly and holds onto her shoulder while bending over. The eyes of the person who she stumbled into widened. He eyed the exposed bandaged on her shoulder. The center of the cloth changed color, it starts with a single crimson dot. Then grows into a large deep red, almost black, circle. Another person steps out of the elevator and catches Yoonah just in time before her knees where about to give up. That person holds onto her by her upper arm and lets her body fall against his. He eases her down into the floor with his arms holding her close to his body. She grips the shirt of the person unintentionally, her nails slightly digging into his chest. A sharp breath was sucked in by her and she grits her teeth in agony.
All she wanted right now was for the pain to go away, but somewhere in the back of her head, a hush voice utters—
What a familiar grip.
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