01
MOMENT
✦
SIX HOURS EARLIER
✧
One coffee clunked down in front of Edmond Song.
"Triple, venti, soy, no foam latte," said Eris. "It's your favorite."
Her coworkers, Brandon and Rosie, looked on uneasily as Eddie looked up, his brows raising dangerously.
"Did you memorize my order?" he said, voice low. "Were you planning to be late to this meeting?"
Eris cleared her throat. "It's a very good latte."
Eddie glared at her. She held.
After one angry moment, he let out a hiss of defeat and reached for his coffee, taking a long gulp. A triumphant smile played on Eris's lips as she sat.
"Christ," muttered Eddie. "I needed this."
Rosie leaned forward. "Who were you hunting down last night, Eris?"
"Sebastian Ngo." Eris tucked loose hair away and sat down. "He didn't leave the Vanity After Party until four, so I had a bit of waiting to do."
"A bit?" scoffed Brandon.
Rosie looked at her sympathetically. "Don't tell me you followed him back to his apartment."
"He was with Celestia the whole time."
Brandon winced.
Rosie's eyes widened. "I thought Celestia was supposed to be with Luke Young."
A sharp series of bangs rung out. Eddie patted the table impatiently.
"I want evidence," he demanded. "Not gossip."
"Here. It's on my computer."
It was a Tuesday morning. The sun had already risen, bathing their small meeting room in daylight. The Daily Angel offices were quiet. The others were out doing interviews.
The crew of the Angel were a humble unit of six reporters headed by a sleep-deprived Edmond Song, whose well-respected place in journalism had propelled the Angel to mild success. When Eris had applied for the job, she'd been fresh out of college, naive about the world, timid and lost in the chaos of truth and lies. Here, somehow, she had found purpose.
"Christ," said Eddie again, sipping his coffee. They had all gathered around Eris's computer as she clicked through photos of the notorious Ngo. "Now this is a story."
"It's payback," Brandon agreed.
"Payback?" said Rosie.
"Ngo and Luke Young were costars in Scarlet Prince," said Eris. "After the accident with Young's sister, they stopped shooting for a while, and the delay screwed up Ngo's tight schedule, so he got upset, harassed Young, and got his manager to blackmail the producer so they couldn't fire him for it."
Brandon made a disgruntled noise.
"Payback," said Rosie, nodding.
"Alright, good." Eddie clapped his hands together. "Rosie, you're in charge of writing this up. Brandon, finish up the Han story so we can move onto something more relevant. Eris, I want a story on Celestia Min and Luke Young as a follow up of this one."
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.
She would remember that moment, always: wading through the crowd of graduates, words of congratulations blurring into noise as she scanned face after face, only to find her mother far, far away--dark hair smoothed back into a french twist, draped in a billowing coat. Disappearing.
A can of Milkis soda slammed down in front of Eris, startling her.
Her dad stood over her disapprovingly, dressed in a brown apron with gloved hands stained with bright red kimchi paste. "Are you going to sit there staring at my wall all day?"
Eris's hands slipped from her face as she scowled at her dad. "I was just thinking."
"Thinking. You're always thinking. Thinking of work." He ripped off his gloves and sat down across from her. He was a small man with flat hair and a squarish face, his eyes sharp and scrutinizing. "I didn't hear you come home last night."
"I did come home," she insisted.
"Really? When? At six in the morning?"
Eris rolled her lips in and looked away. She caught an eavesdropping Nico jump and hurry off.
Her dad expelled a huff of disbelief, his grip tightening on his gloves. Eris ran her finger along the rim of the soda can. "I've told you this and I'll tell you again," he said stubbornly. "I don't like your job. You'd be better off without it."
Now she met his eyes sharply. "Appa. This is my job. Let me deal with it."
"I won't if it's killing you."
"Killing me?" Eris tilted her head, exasperated. "Appa, my job is keeping me alive. It's keeping me alive, you alive, and this restaurant alive, so leave it alone."
At that, he went silent.
An awkward silence stretched between them. Eris tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and took a long sip as her dad stared idly at his gloves.
Finally, he stood up and looked down at her, his eyes guarded. "Eat something before you leave. I just made kimchi."
"Mm." She pushed a fleeting smile onto her lips. "Thanks."
He scowled and shuffled away. "And take some to Elias tonight. You know where his apartment is."
"Save it for yourself," she urged, looking up. "You know he never eats it."
"Give it to him anyway. When he gets home from the department, he won't have anything better to do."
✦
With a box of her father's kimchi tucked under one arm, she strode into Elias's sleek apartment building and waited for the elevator, phone to her ear.
"We are particularly short-staffed, so if you truly would like the position, we'd like you here by six in the morning tomorrow."
Her eyes widened. "Six?"
"The entrance is two blocks from the Old Veld neighborhoods," the woman continued smoothly. "If you don't show, we can't brief you on the specifics of your duties, and we'll have to find someone else."
"Oh, no, don't worry about it." Even as she said it, her heart hurt. "I'll be there, bright and early."
"Good. We look forward to meeting you."
"Thank you so much."
The woman hung up.
Eris glanced at her phone, her lips turning down in a little scowl. "She's so rude," she muttered.
The elevator dinged, and she walked in, lifting her shoulders as she drew in a deep breath. It was rather cold outside--Seraph City could get like this at night, the ruthless chill of the wind seeping right into her skin. Having just finished writing up a few reports at the office, she'd walked over and secured a volunteer position at Guardian.
With her being a reporter, Hope Jung had never liked her much, and his assistant had informed her that he was busy all week. Both managers of Celestia Min and Luke Young had reported that they were refusing interviews for the next week, and there were no events to sneak into and snag gossip from. This had been her last resort.
Guardian was about a night courier, a prosecutor, and a time traveller. Luke would play the night courier, Celestia the prosecutor. Volunteers would be running errands for assistants and lower-ranked crew members on set--simple jobs that would keep her on her toes. She supposed it wasn't too bad. Her shifts would begin early and end early, so as long as she picked up enough information in the earlier hours, she'd be set.
As the elevator numbers climbed, Eris looked down at the kimchi cradled in the crook of her elbow. She felt sad, suddenly, thinking of her father pressing the lid down onto a box bursting with kimchi his son would never touch.
The elevator stilled with a ding. Her thoughts vanished as she stepped into the wide hall, all light-washed wood and bright light. She'd nearly made it to his door when she heard voices.
"--enjoy this? Are you mad?" A bitter laugh cut through the air. Eris froze. "Do you think this is a game?"
There was no answer. That had been Elias's voice, no doubt. She frowned and crept backwards towards the stairway door, which she realized lay slightly ajar.
"What," said Elias again--yes, that was definitely from the stairway. "Did you come all the way down here to watch me talk?"
"No."
Eris paused. Her frown deepened. This voice was smooth, quiet. Also familiar.
Elias spoke again. "If you have something you want to say, say it."
"I don't enjoy repeating myself," the second voice replied calmly. "You know what I'm here for."
Elias's voice hardened. "Are you usually such a pain in the ass?"
"Only with frauds."
There was a pause. Eris sucked in a breath. "Alright," murmured Elias, "I'm done. We're done here." Footsteps approached.
Eris's heart skipped to her throat. The stairway door jolted open, and she ducked quickly out of view, hiding herself around the corner of the hall. She peered out to see who emerged: the first, of course, was Elias, still dressed in the dark-navy button-down with his police badge clipped to his belt.
But it was the second young man that caught her completely off guard, stealing the breath from her lungs.
Luke Young emerged next, donned in black, dark eyes glazed with exhaustion as he ran one hand through his dark hair. So that was why he was familiar--she had heard his voice a dozen times on shows, interviews, news reports. What is Elias doing with Luke in the stairway?
But that was not all--it was what he held in his other hand that irked him further. His phone, yes, but when he turned, she caught a flash of the screen. It was a news report released by Angel News Network, its headline bolded:
24-YEAR-OLD LEE HUANG'S PRISON SENTENCE FOR MANSLAUGHTER EXTENDED TWO YEARS
✧
REFERENCES
korean
chimaek: 치맥 , a compound word referring to the popular combination of fried chicken and beer (maekju) (치 "chi" from chicken, 맥 "maek" from maekju)
appa: 아빠 , informal way to address your own dad
kimchi: 김치 , traditional fermented Korean side dish made of various vegetables with many seasonings
chinese
none; till next chapter!
✧
hey friends :)
hope you enjoyed the first two chapters. just a note that there are hints in every chapter relating to the murder/manslaughter mystery we'll see later, so be sure to notice the details.
here's a hint: keep brandon's han story in mind.
thank you for reading! chapter two will be up soon :)
❥ krissy