Shin Hye blink a few times and look again. It’s not her imagination or hallucinating. It’s still there, half-hidden among a couple of discarded conference programmes and a Starbucks cup.

‘What’s a phone doing in a bin?’ Her head tilted as she think for the logical reason.

She look around again to see if anyone’s watching her, before reach in gingerly and pull it out. It has a couple of drops of coffee on it, but otherwise it seems perfect. It’s a good one too. Seems new.

Cautiously, she turn and survey the crowding lobby. Nobody’s paying her the slightest bit of attention. No one’s rushing up and exclaiming – ‘There’s my phone!’

She been walking around the area for the last ten minutes. Whoever threw this phone in here did so a while ago. There’s a sticker on the back of the phone, with MSeventh Consulting Group printed in tiny letters and a number.

“Did someone just chuck it away?” She asks herself, still examining the phone. She press the On button and the screen glows. “It seems in perfect condition.”

She looks up, and looking around again, but it’s still the same. It seems nobody is looking for their lost phone. A tiny voice in her head telling her that she should hand it in. She should take it to the front desk and say – ‘Excuse me, I think someone’s lost this phone.’

She just need to march up to the desk, right now, like any responsible, civic-minded member of society. But, her feet don’t move an inch. Her hand tighten protectively round the phone. Thing is, she need a phone! Her minds telling her that the MSeventh Consulting Group, whoever they are, have millions of phones.

“It’s not like I found it on the floor or on the cloakroom. Right? It was in a bin.” She tells herself. “Things in bins are rubbish.”

She peer into the bin again, and glimpse a red cord, just like the ones round all the delegate’s necks. She check the concierge to make sure he’s not watching, then plunge her hand in again and pull out a conference pass. A mugshot of a stunningly pretty girl stares back at her, under which is printed:

Kim Seol Hyun

MSeventh Consulting Group

‘So this is Kim Seol Hyun’s phone and she threw it away.’ Shin Hye come out with her theory. ‘But…for what reason?’

She shrugged her shoulder. “Well, that’s her fault. Not mine.” She says nonchalantly.

The phone suddenly buzzes.

“Oh no. It’s alive!” She startles in surprise as the ringtone begins to play at top volume. She quickly press ignore. But a moment later it starts up again, loud and unmistakeable.

“Yah, why it has to be so loud? Isn’t there are volume control on this things?” She mumbles in nervous. She notices a couple of nearby businesswomen have turned to stare her which spontaneously directing her fingers to jab at pickup instead of reject. The businesswomen are still watching her. She don’t have reason other than to put the phone to her ear and turn away.

“The person you have called is not available.” She say, trying to sound robotic. “Please leave a message.”

“Where the hell are you?”

A smooth, well-educated male voice starts speaking and she nearly squeal with shock. It worked! He thinks I’m a machine.

“I’ve just been talking to Ill Woo. He has a contact reckons he can do it. It’ll be like keyhole surgery. He’s good. There won’t be any trace.”

She don’t dare breathe. Or scratch her nose, which is suddenly incredibly itchy.

“OK.” The man is saying. “So, whatever else you do, be ing careful.”

He rings off and she stare at the phone in jolt. She never thought anyone would actually leave a message. Now, she feel a bit guilty. This is a genuine voice-mail and Seol Hyun missed it.

“It’s not my fault. She threw the phone away.” She reasoning herself . . . but even so, on impulse she scrabble in her bag for a pen and the only thing she got to write on, which is an old theatre programme.

She scribble down:    Ill Woo has a contact. Keyhole surgery. No trace. Be ing careful.

“What that’s all about? Liposuction?” She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. The point is if I ever do meet this Seol Hyun, I’ll be able to pass it on.” She tells before looks up at the concierge’s desk which has miraculously cleared. “I better hurry before the phone ring again.” She marching to the desk.

“Hi. Me again. Has anyone found my ring?” Shin Hye say breathlessly.

“May I please assure you, Miss.” He says with a frosty smile. “That we would have let you know if we had found it. We do have your phone number-“

“No you don’t!” She immediately cut him off. That’s the thing! The number now…cannot be use.  “Please don’t call it. Can you use this number instead?” She carefully copy the phone number from the back of the MSeventh Consulting Group. She looks up at him. “Actually, just to be sure . . . can I test it?”

His forehead wrinkles as he watching her reaching the hotel phone and dial the number. A moment later, the same ringtone starts blasting out of the phone. She let out deep breaths after confirming the number. She smile awkwardly to him as she put the phone back.

“Miss, was there anything else?” The concierge starting to look quite pissed off and there’s a queue of people building behind her.

“That’s all for now. Thank you.” She says before head back to a nearby sofa, with full of adrenalin this time, because she have a phone and a plan.

It only takes her five minutes to write out her new mobile number on twenty separate pieces of hotel writing paper.

PARK SHIN HYE

EMERALD RING - PLEASE CALL!!

The doors to the ballroom are now locked. Although she sure can hear the cleaners still inside. So, she roam around the hotel corridors, the tea room, the ladies cloakrooms and even the spa…handing her number out to every hotel worker she come across and explaining the story.

She call the police ad dictate her new number to them. She text So Ra – whose mobile number she know off by heart, saying:

Hi. Phone stolen. This is my new mobile number. Can u pass to everyone? Any sign of ring???

Then, she flop back on the sofa in exhaustion. She feel like she have been living in the bloody hotel all day. She should phone Soo Hyun too, and give him the number. But… she can’t face it yet. She have this irrational conviction that he’ll be able to tell just from her tone of voice that the ring is missing. He’ll sense her bare finger the minute she say ‘Hi’.

‘Please come back, ring…Please…Please come back…’ She leaned back, closed her eyes and trying to send a telepathic message and startled jump when the ringtone starts up again.

“Maybe this is it! My ring! Someone found it!” She don’t even check the screen before pressing talk and answering excitedly. “Hello?”

“Seol Hyun?” A man’s voice hits her ear. It’s not the man who called before, it’s a guy with a deeper voice. He sounds a bit bad-tempered, if you can tell that just from three syllables. He’s also breathing quite heavily, which means he’s either a ert or doing some exercise. “Are you in the lobby? Are the Japanese contingent still there?”

In automatic reflect she look around. There’s a whole bunch of Japanese people by the doors.

“Yes, they are.” She say. “But… I’m not Seol Hyun. This isn’t Seol Hyun phone anymore. Sorry. Maybe you could spread the word that her number’s changed?”

She thought she need to get Seol Hyun’s mates off her case. She can’t have them ringing her every five seconds.

“Excuse me, who is this?” The man demands. “Why are you answering this number? Where’s Seol Hyun?”

“I own this phone.” She say, more confidently than her feel.

“You own it? What the hell are you - “ He swears.

She can hear distant footsteps. It sound like he’s running downstairs.

“Just tell me, are they leaving?”

“The Japanese people?” She squint at the group. “Maybe. Can’t tell.”

“Is a short guy with them? Overweight? Thick hair?”

“You mean the man in the blue suit? Yes, he’s right in front of me. Looks pissed off. Now he’s putting on his mac.”

The squat Japanese man has just been handed a Burberry by a colleague. He’s glowering as he puts it on, and a constant stream of angry Japanese is coming out of his mouth, as all his friends nod nervously.

“No!” The man’s exclamation down the phone takes her by surprise. “He can’t leave.”

“Well, he is. Sorry.”

“You have to stop him. Go up to him and stop him leaving the hotel. Go up to him now. Do whatever it takes.”

“What?” She stare at the phone before put it to her ear again. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’ve never even met you- - “

“Not me either.” He rejoins. “Who are you anyway? Are you a friend of Seol Hyun? Can you tell me exactly why she decided to quit her job halfway through the biggest conference of the year? Does she think I suddenly don’t need a PA anymore?”

‘Aha…So Seol Hyun is his PA.’ That makes sense. So, Seol Hyun walked out of him. ‘Well I’m not surprised. He’s so bossy.’

“Anyway, doesn’t matter.” He interrupts himself. “Point is, I’m on the stairs, floor nine, the lift jammed. I’ll be downstairs in less than three minutes, and you have to keep Mr. Yamasaki there till I arrive. Whoever the hell you are.”

She curls a smirk upon his order. “Or what?” She reply.

“Or else a year of careful negotiation goes down the tubes because of ridiculous misunderstanding. The biggest deal of the year falls apart. A team of twenty people lose their jobs.” His voice is relentless. “Senior managers, secretaries, the whole gang. Just because I can’t get down there fast enough and the one person who could help won’t.”

‘Oh…Bloody hell.’ She shut her eye with biting lips. ‘What I’m getting into?’

She inhales deeply. “All right!” She say furiously. “I’ll do my best. What’s his name again?”

“Yamasaki.”

“Wait!” She raise her voice, running across the lobby. “Please! Mr. Yamasaki? Could you wait a minute?”

Mr. Yamasaki turns, questioningly, and a couple of flunkeys move forward, protecting him. He has a broad face, still creased in anger and a wide bullish neck, around which he’s draping a silk scarf. She get the sense he’s not into idle chit-chat. She have no idea to say next. She can speak Japanese, but she don’t have any ideas about Japanese business.

‘What should I say?’ She thinks hard as her eye moving all over the flunkeys before glued at Mr. Yamasaki.

“I’m… I’m a huge fan.” She smiles decently at him as she throw her word in Japanese. “I’m a fan of your work. Could I have your autograph?”

Mr. Yamasaki stares at her before he slowly bows to her.

Cautiously, she bow back. He snaps his fingers, barking an instruction. A moment later, a beautiful leather folder has been opened in front of him, and he’s writing something elaborate in Japanese.

“Is he still here?” The stranger’s voice suddenly emanates from the phone in her hand.

“Yes.” She mutter into it. “Just about. Where are you?” She shoot a bright smile at Mr. Yamasaki although she feel uncomfortable, slightly rude to be on the phone at the moment.

“Fifth floor. Keep him there. Whatever it takes.” The voice tell.

She sighs helplessly, pull down the phone from her ear and pay her attention back to the man in front. 

Mr. Yamasaki hands her his piece of papers, caps his pen, bows again and makes to walk off.

“Wait!” Shin Hye cry desperately. “Could I… Show you something?” She try to buy the time.

“Mr. Yamasaki is very busy.” One of his colleagues, talking on behalf of him. “Kindly contact our offices.”

They’re heading away again. ‘What do I do now to attract his attention?’

“I have a special announcement to make!” She exclaim, hurrying after them. “I am a singing telegram! I bear a message from all Mr. Yamasaki’s fans. It would be a great discourtesy to them if you were refuse me.”

The word discourtesy seems to have stopped them in their tracks. They’re frowning and exchanging confused glances.

“A singing telegram?” Ask the same colleague earlier. Suspiciously.

“Like a Gorillagram?” She offer. “Only singing.” She tells. Not sure whether that’s made things any clearer.

The colleague look at Mr. Yamasaki before he come closer and talking in lower voice. “You may present.” He return to her.

Mr. Yamasaki turns round, and all his colleagues follow suit, folding their arms expectantly and lining up in a row.

Shin Hye look around the lobby where she can see a few interested glances from other groups of business people.

“Where are you?” She hurriedly put the phone on her ear, mutter desperately into it.

“Third floor.” The man reply after a moment. “Half a minute. Don’t lose him.”

“You may begin.” The colleague-man says, pointed her.

Some other hotel guests in the lobby have stopped to watch. ‘Oh God! How I did get myself into this? What should I song to the Japanese businessman that I’ve never met before?’

She smiles to them as she hardly put herself in a position. ‘If I don’t do something soon, twenty people might lose their jobs.’

She make a deep bow, just to spin out some more time, and all the Japanese bow back.

“Begin.” Repeat the same man. His eye glinting threateningly this time.

She take a deep breath. ‘Come on Shin Hye. It doesn’t matter what you do. I only have to last hold a minute. Then I can run away and they’ll never see me again.’

“Mr. Yamasaki…” She begin cautiously, to the tune of ‘Single Ladies.’ It was the last song she heard today. Inside the ballroom earlier.

“Mr. Yamasaki. Mr. Yamasaki. Mr. Yamasaki.” She shimmy her hips and shoulders at him, just like Beyonce. “Mr. Yamasaki… Mr. Yamasaki.”

Actually this is quite easy. She don’t need any lyrics. She just keep singing ‘Mr. Yamasaki’ over and over. After a few moments, some of the Japanese even start singing along and clapping Mr. Yamasaki on the back.

“Mr. Yamasaki, Mr. Yamasaki, Mr. Yamasaki… Mr. Yamasaki.” She lift her finger and waggle it at him with a wink. “Ooh-ooh-ooh . . .  Ooh-ooh-ooh . . .”

The song ridiculously catchy. All the Japanese are singing now, apart from Mr. Yamasaki, who’s just standing there, looking delighted. Some delegates nearby have joined in with the singing and she can hear one of them saying – “is this a flash mob thing?”