Chapter 9
edits
“Tiffany, there’s a call for you on line 2."
“Got it,” said Tiffany, holding a fresh tissue to her nose as she minimized the picture of Taeyeon that she was editing. With her other hand, she picked up the phone and held it to her ear. “Hello? This is Tiffany Hwang speaking."
“Hello, Miss Hwang. This is Manager Jang."
“Oh! How are you?"
There was a hollow laugh. “Hanging in there. How are you? Did you see any reporters today?"
“No, I’m staying at a friend’s for now."
“That’s a good move.” He cleared his throat. “I’m calling to let you know about a plan the company has come up with to solve this issue."
“Oh!"
“We’ve managed to schedule an appearance this Friday evening on radio."
Tiffany blinked. “Radio?"
“Whatever Taeyeon does, it usually escalates into national headlines. The company wants you two to appear on the show together to deny the rumors. We’re hoping your presence on the show will convince the public that this is a massive misunderstanding."
“Wait, you want me to be on the show?"
“Yes. It’s going to be at 8pm this Sunday."
“Uh. I’m, like, the most awkward person ever, maybe I shouldn’t go on the sho—”
“It’ll be fine, Miss Hwang. Taeyeon is very good at things like this so she’ll handle it. You just need to show up around 7:30 to get ready."
“Oh…” Tiffany gulped. “Okay, I guess."
“Okay? Good. I’ll forward you the necessary information. Now— ah, please wait a moment. Taeyeon would like to speak to you."
There was a rustle, a few low voices, and suddenly Taeyeon’s voice came out of the speaker. “Hello? Tiffany?"
“Hi."
“Um,” said Taeyeon.
As Tiffany waited, she grabbed a handful of tissues to stem the sudden flow of blood from her nose.
“How are you?"
“Imb bine,” said Tiffany.
“Nosebleed again?"
“Yeah."
“Did you get Gatorade?"
“God a endire cardon.”
Taeyeon sighed. “I’m really sorry, Tiffany."
“Nod your fauld, Daeyeon. I said some stupid stuff doo.” She threw the tissue away and got a new one. “Besides, nothing we can do to undo that. Let’s just get it all cleared up with the radio show, yeah?"
“Okay. I promise I’ll fix this."
“I mean, you’re gonna be talking most of the time, okay? Because I cannot talk in front of people. My small talk skills are non-existent."
Over the line, Taeyeon laughed. “I should pretend to have a sore throat that day."
“Don’t you dare! Who knows, they’ll take that as a sign that you’re pregnant too or something."
“Do I want to know how that rumor even started?"
Tiffany groaned. “I’m not even sure, myself. I’m just offended that they thought I looked pregnant, because what the hell? I work out!"
“We’ll fix that this Sunday."
“I’ll see you then?"
“Yep. Stay on the down low in the meantime."
“Got it."
“For the record,” said Taeyeon. She paused for a moment.
“What?"
"I quite like the name Kim Joowon."
“I’m going to kill you."
“Okay, okay."
When Tiffany hung up, there was a small smile on her face.
--
Tiffany awkwardly stood behind a bush, watching as people walked in and out of the broadcasting building. She checked her watch - it was 7:30. Mr. Jang had said 7:30, right? She tugged the hood of her jacket lower as a woman gave her a weird look. “Where are you,” muttered Tiffany.
Just then, a black car pulled up. The backseat window rolled down and Taeyeon poked her head out. “Get in,” she said, gesturing.
“Aren’t we going in there?” Tiffany asked as the door closed behind her.
“Yes, but you looked like some ert hiding behind the fake plant. Safer to wait in here."
“Well, excuse you.” Tiffany crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at Taeyeon, who was giggling at her own joke. “I didn’t want people to recognize me."
Mr. Jang turned around from the driver’s seat. “I could see your face perfectly, Miss Hwang."
“Oh."
“Anyway, just remember, both of you,” he said, giving Taeyeon a look, “make it clear that you’re not dating."
“And not pregnant."
“And that. Just clear it up, alright? Taeyeon, you especially."
“I know, Oppa."
“Alright, then.” He took a deep breath. "Let’s go up another 5 minutes."
--
The moment they walked into the studio, the room erupted into cheers.
“Congrats, Miss Kim!” A balding man shook Taeyeon’s hand. “And you as well, Miss Hwang!” Tiffany bowed, lost, as her hand was also pumped up and down energetically. “This way, please. Right here."
He led them past all the beaming staff and into the booth. Gesturing at the banners and balloons decked out on the walls, he turned to them proudly.
“We’re usually quite the serious bunch, but everyone pitched in to help decorate today! We are all so happy for the two of you."
Taeyeon smiled. “Actually, Woo PD, we’re here to clarify some misconception—”
“Oh, yes. Your manager told us. Not to worry, not to worry. We may not be a talk show, but I assure you, we will accommodate your every need."
Tiffany felt a familiar itching. “Oh, sh—”
“Woo PD, could we actually have some tissues? Tiffany’s been having some issues with her nose and—”
“Absolutely, Miss Kim.” He dashed out of the room.
Tiffany sank into a chair, holding her nose. Beside her, Taeyeon patted her back gently. Tiffany stifled a groan as the blood gushed out at an accelerated rate.
“Here you are, Miss Kim,” said Woo PD, handing over two tissue boxes. “Miss Hwang, would you like some water?"
“Yes, please. Thank you."
When he once again stepped out of the room, Tiffany looked up at Taeyeon while mopping her nose. “Are you sure they know what we’re trying to do?"
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine."
“It’s just…they seem a little too excited?"
They both glanced up as there was a knock on the door. Slowly, a woman poked her head into the room, her face entirely scarlet. “Um, may I come in?"
“Of course,” said Taeyeon, bowing. “How can we help you?"
“Um. I— We, uh, the staff, we have something for Miss Hwang."
Tiffany got to her feet, hastily putting the tissue behind her back. “Sorry, my nose is misbehaving,” she laughed nervously. The woman nodded shyly and held out a small package with shaking hands.
“This is for you,” she said as Tiffany took the gift.
“Thank you. What is it?"
“It’s herbs, Miss Hwang. For you to keep up your strength."
Tiffany fought the sinking feeling in her stomach. “Thank you,” she managed. The woman bowed, deeply, and fled out of the room. When the door closed, Tiffany lifted the packet to her nose.
“Can you even smell anything with your nose like that?” Taeyeon took the packet and sniffed it. “Yep, herbs."
“For what?"
“For your nose, probably."
Tiffany frowned. “Are you sure? It’s not because they still think I’m pregnant, right?"
“But you’re not pregnant."
“I know that. But do they kno—”
“Miss Kim, Miss Hwang, we’ll be on air in 10!"
--
There was dead silence as they got into the car after the show.
“Seatbelts,” said Mr. Jang.
They buckled up obediently, but he didn’t start the car. No one said anything for a full minute until Taeyeon spoke hesitantly.
“It…could’ve gone better?"
“Oh, yes, it could’ve gone a lot better. How did that happen?!"
“They kind of…shouted us down, except they did it really nicely,” said Tiffany weakly. “They didn’t even let us talk."
“I tried, Oppa."
“I know you did, Taeyeon."
“They were so caught up in discussing baby names they basically forgot we were there."
“I knew those herbs were a bad sign, Taeyeon."
“Sorry, I really thought they knew…”
Mr. Jang rubbed his eyes. “We’re back where we started, then. The whole country still thinks you guys are dating and pregnant."
“Why did I have to be pregnant one?!"
“Anyway, let’s just get Tiffany home first. Where are you staying right now?"
When Tiffany gave Sunny’s address, Taeyeon and Mr. Jang both stared at her. She blinked. “What? It’s my friend’s apartment. I’m staying there for now because my place is overrun with reporters."
“Well,” said Taeyeon slowly, “I live there too."
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