PROLOGUE

 

 

Justine picked at the salmon on her plate.  When it had been served to her about half an hour ago, it was still in its pristine filleted form, sided with lettuce and topped with a lemon rind, a drizzle of soy sauce on the fish and the plate.  Now, the rind sat on a separate plate, post-squeeze, half the salmon eaten.  Justine glanced around absentmindedly; the soft cacophony of patrons in this four-star restaurant in the Seocho District filled her ears, but the silence that had spread across the table between her and the man sitting in front of her was louder.  She forked off a piece of the salmon and ate it.

 

“So how long have you been a content producer?”

 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she swore he’d already asked this question.  But she kept her poise, minimally thankful that the silence was no more, smiled as kindly as she could, and put another bit of salmon in before responding.

 

“Four years,” she said.

 

“At Arirang?’

 

“Yup,” she replied, drinking some water.

 

“And what do you do?”

 

Through her lashes, Justine watched as he twirled pasta strings with his fork.  He seemed to be detached from the conversation in a way—he was hearing, not listening.  Justine couldn’t really careless though.

 

“I basically keep Arirang programs up and running,” she said.  “I used to work for Pops in Seoul when I started but now I’m one of the three producers in charge of After School Club.  It’s been really fun.”

 

“Hm,” he nodded noncommittally.  “And this is your second, third job, or…?”

 

“First job right out of college and I fell in love with it.”

 

“And where did you go again?” he asked.  He seemed to brush aside the fact that Arirang was one of Justine’s many loves, a deeper and better topic than which college she attended.

 

Shouldn’t my mom have told him this already?  “Korea University, journalism major.”

 

“Ah,” he nodded.  He stuffed his mouth with more pasta.  Justine could tell he wasn’t impressed with her alma mater.  As expected.

 

She shifted in her chair.  “And you?  How long have you been a lawyer?”

 

“A few years,” he said a bit too eagerly.  “I was pre-law at NYU before I decided to transfer to Stanford.  Not a lot of cases right now, mostly paperwork, but I’m in the same firm as the prosecution who won that double-homicide trial in Baltimore a few months ago.  You might have heard of it.”

 

She hadn't.  “That’s nice.  I’ve got a friend who went to NYU.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, she graduated before you though.”

 

“Where is she now?  Also in the media?” he joked, almost snorting.

 

“No, she was poli-sci,” Justine said, smiling, like a snake baring its fangs.  “She’s now a women's rights representative at the United Nations.  She’s helping further education opportunities for refugees in several tent cities.  You might have heard of it.”

 

Justine kept grinning, the gleam on her face divine as though she were a pageant queen.  She watched as the smirk on this guy’s face melted off, replaced by a look that spelled pure unexpected awe.  Justine fought hard not to flip him off so she just sat there, basking in some grand quiet victory.

 

It wasn’t entirely his fault, though, the fact that this date was swirling down the drain. Justine’s parents had been setting her up with multiple successful Filipino men since she was 18.  So this was, what, the 30th guy she’d met?  Definitely Candidate #30-something.  She couldn’t remember which number date this was, though, since she didn’t always need to be on a date for her to meet a potential husband.  They could be at a family function, a company party, at the supermarket.  This was all because her parents fatally believed in the idea of arranged marriage, which was the future that they wanted for all their children: A union based purely on homoethnic ideals and billions of dollar bills, and not on flimsy stuff like joy or desire or, God forbid, love… It was the most beautiful thing to her parents.  Justine’s older brother and older sister didn’t have to worry about this kind of stuff anymore because they were already married.  She didn't really find that comforting.

 

Her phone buzzed, a message popping up on the screen.

 

“Who’s that?” asked the guy.  Justine had rudely forgotten his name even when her mother had told her about him a full week ago.  To her, she was just a guy.  She suspected it was the same vice versa.

 

You know, for her parents insisting that she married a Filipino man, this conversation was 100% lacking in Tagalog.

 

Justine glanced at the notification, smiling softly.  “Just a Facebook message.  There’s this girl I met when I was a kid back in the Philippines.  She recently started sending me Bible verses out of the blue.”

 

Lawyer man looked at her goofily.  “Bible verses?”

 

“Yeah,” she said, reading the first line of the message.  Matt. 6:24 - ‘Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow...’ “Once a day.  Like a vitamin pill.”

 

He full-on snorted.  “That’s a bit primitive, no?”

 

Justine looked up from her phone and tilted her head at him.

 

“You know,” he waved his fork around for emphasis, “faith, verses, belief in a higher power.  Stuff like that.”

 

Justine’s head began to fill with question marks.  “Not...really, no.  I actually share the same beliefs as her.  Her encouragement works and even if they don’t apply to me that day, it’s still heartwarming.”

 

He shrugged smugly.  “If you say so.”

 

Lord, give me strength, she prayed silently.  Her parents couldn’t have found a better man.  First, he’d been dry, then braggy, then now, close-minded.  Her parents weren’t religious but it couldn’t have hurt to be considerate.  She was the one being married off, after all.

 

Alas, the heavens heard Justine’s prayer: her phone started buzzing uncontrollably, vibrating to the edge of the table.  On the screen flashed Jinwoo-ya♡ with Jinwoo’s selfie in the background.  Justine knitted her brows.  It was 10:13 p.m. on a Thursday.  Right now, ASC was pre-recording an episode before its scheduled showing.  Was there a problem?

 

She grabbed her phone and leaned a bit over the table.  “Hey, mind if I take this call?  I’ll be right back.”

 

The guy gave a vague shrug but Justine was too wired to dwell on it.  Standing up, she answered the call.  She barely got to say hello when Jinwoo’s voice pierced her eardrum.

 

“JUSTINE, OH MY GOD!”  She yelped in English.  “We need you here, it’s an emergency!”

 

“Why, what’s going on?”  Justine entered the ladies’ room and stood in front of a sink.  She glimpsed at herself: fancy updo, bronze dress, sparkly makeup.  She’d put effort in her outfit tonight, as she had on other dates, but it didn’t really matter now.

 

“Look, I know you’re on a date but there’s something going on with the connection or something.  The episode isn’t recording.”

 

She furrowed her eyebrows even more.  “Is it the cameras?”  Can’t be the reception.  South Korea’s got the strongest wi-fi in the world.

 

“No— Well— We don’t know!  That’s why we need you here.  You’re in charge of recording!”  There was a muffled thump on Jinwoo’s line and her mumbling incoherently.

 

Justine ran a hand through her hair.  “Okay, okay.  I’m on way.”

 

It took a mere fifteen seconds for Justine to go back to her table, excuse herself from the date, pay for her meal (even though the guy resisted), and leave the restaurant.  In her head, she thanked the guy for picking a restaurant in the same district as the network station, and herself for choosing to drive to the restaurant instead of carpooling.  Traffic was friendly tonight: in a little over fifteen minutes, she reached Arirang.

 

“Those cannot be work-appropriate clothes,” the token sassy security guard in the basement parking lot chirped.

 

Justine ignored his comment and jogged awkwardly in her pumps to the elevator.  The lift didn't make any stops so she reached the ASC floor quickly. She was in the hallway leading to the studio just as Jinwoo exited it.  She looked like a mess.

 

“Jinwoo!  Jinwoo!”  Justine called out in the middle of the hallway.  “Yeogiyo!  I’m here!”

 

“Oh, Justine, thank goodness!”  Jinwoo ran to her.  She clutched several papers in her hand which looked to be the schedule for tonight’s pre-recording.

 

“What’s going on?  Is it still not recording?”

 

“First off, you look really beautiful.  Secondly, they’ve figured out what’s wrong but they’re still trying to get recording up,” Jinwoo said, grabbing Justine’s wrist and dragging her to the studio.

 

Justine gingerly stepped over the wires on the floor.  From what she could see, the crew was restless and the director was nowhere in sight.  Her grip on Jinwoo’s arm was deadly as the other content producer led her across the floor behind the cameras.  Jinwoo brought her to the recording panel a little ways away from the main floor where the ASC set was.  A male intern sat in the booth wearing headphones, too engrossed in the buttons on the soundboard to notice the two producers entering the booth.

 

“Minhyun-ssi,” Jinwoo hissed, tapping the man’s shoulder.  The intern removed his headphones and turned around.  “Justine’s here.  Tell her what’s wrong.”

 

“Right, well, we’ve figured out what’s wrong — the cable wasn’t plugged in the right outlet — but we’re still trying to get the recording up.”

 

“Which artist is on tonight again?” Justine asked Jinwoo.

 

Jinwoo gestured at the main floor where a girl group sat chatting amongst one another.  “Red Velvet.  It’s SMEnt Month, and they’ve got a concert in Taiwan on Tuesday so we’re pre-recording.”

 

“Okay,” she nodded, turning back to Minhyun.  “Let me see the panel please.”

 

Minhyun moved out of the way as Justine stepped forward, towering over the recording panel.  The buttons on the soundboard was a vibrant lights show.  Rows of buttons and switches, cable outlets and keys; speakers stood around the booth like candles at a vigil.  The scene was familiar.

 

For the short amount of time that she was still on the Pops in Seoul team, she had manned the recording booth.  She could still remember the recording sequence on the panel, albeit vaguely.

 

“I wonder…” she hummed curiously.

 

She tried as best as she could to put the Pops in Seoul sequence on the ASC recording panel.  The recording sequence at Pops was older, but maybe, just maybe, it shared similarities with ASC.  She pressed buttons here, flicked off switches there, mimicking the sequence as best as she could on this newer, techier soundboard.

 

Suddenly, whoops and high-fives erupted from the camera crew.  A few members of Red Velvet jumped at the commotion.  The head cameraman held a thumbs-up to the recording booth.

 

“Ah, noona daebak,” Minhyun sighed in relief.

 

“Yaaas, I love my queen!”  Jinwoo exclaimed, dancing on her spot.

 

Justine smiled bashfully, thankful that the area behind the cameras was too dim and the lights from the soundboard colored her face a bright enough yellow for anyone to see her blushed cheeks.  She mussed Minhyun’s hair, jokingly scolding him, before stepping out of the booth with Jinwoo.

 

Jinwoo laced her arms around Justine’s left arm as they walked a few steps across the floor, close enough to get a better view of the set but far enough so as not to bother the camera crew.  Two makeup artists had come to retouch the Red Velvet members’ faces while the crew finalized a few more things.  Beside her, Jinwoo stood on her tiptoes to reach Justine’s ear.

 

“How was your date?” whispered Jinwoo, speaking in Korean now.

 

Justine made a face, still staring straight ahead.  “Nothing happened.”

 

Jinwoo hissed as though somebody put pressure to a wound of hers.  “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

 

“It’s okay, we’ll talk at length at home,” she said.  She looked around the studio.  “Where’s the director?  Aren’t Jamie and Kevin hosting?”

 

“Well, Kevin just came up to the set,” Jinwoo said, nodding at the set.  “And the director has just returned.”

 

Justine turned to look.  Indeed, ASC's director had seated himself in the director’s chair and Kevin had entered the set, greeting Red Velvet with bows and handshakes.

 

Somebody suddenly pinched Justine’s sides.  The producer yelped, garnering looks from some of the crew members.  She and Jinwoo swiveled around to find Jimin giggling, hiding her face with her hands.

 

“Jimin-ah!”  Justine pushed on her forehead playfully.  “Go take your seat, host-nim.  Naughty girl.”

 

“Sorry, unni, you’re just so fun to mess with,” Jimin giggled.  She then stopped as she got a good look at Justine.  “Woah!  Where were you?”

 

“Doesn’t matter, go now, go now.”  Justine gestured for Jimin to move along, one hand on her hip.

 

Jimin laughed again.  “You look like an ahjumma.”

 

“Aish, Park Jimin!”

 

Jimin was still laughing as she walked off, leaving the producers behind.  The girl was fond of teasing Justine.  That was how they got close in the first place, with Jimin making Justine a cup of coffee but purposely using salt instead of sugar.

 

After Jimin greeted Red Velvet, the director called the attention of those on the set.  He shouted, “Lights, camera, action!”  The cameras began rolling, the recording no longer hindered.  Justine sighed contentedly as she watched, crossing her arms.  There was something quite satisfying being a person working behind the scenes.  Knowing she had a hand in this show... It made her happy.

 

“I'm still sorry we had to pull you out from your date,” Jinwoo said, her voice low.  “It might not have gone well, but you weren't supposed to be here either.”

 

“Nah, it's okay,” Justine replied.  She turned to Jinwoo and smiled. “I like being here.”

 

Her best friend scrunched her nose up at her.  “You're such a workaholic.”

 

“Of course I'm not,” Justine said, lacing her arm with Jinwoo's.  “I'm just really in love with you, that's why I keep coming to work.”

 

Jinwoo giggled.  “Shut up.”

 

“No, really, I would have quit if it weren't for you,” Justine added.  She was good at prolonging jokes.  “Every morning I say to myself, ‘Ah, I'm really blessed to be working alongside Kwon Jinwoo, former JYP trainee, almost-member of TWICE.’”

 

“Ah, jjajeungna.  So annoying...” Jinwoo muttered.

 

Justine laughed, earning a reprimanding hiss from a nearby camera crew member.  She bowed abruptly and apologized in a whisper, waving off Jinwoo who was dying beside her.

 

 

 

 

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am i rly writing 3 fanfics at once? yes i am

i hope this was an enjoyable prologue! my aim was to introduce Justine and her character and pretty much set the tone for the whole story.  i'm really excited to be writing this^^

fun fact: i do have a friend who goes to NYU currently studying poli-sci.  she was already a UN junior rep (like, an intern junior rep) before she attended college.  frickin bad*ss.

what do you guys think of EXO's comeback?  i really love this concept, everyone looks good but baekhyun's mullet is not working fammm who put those on him i just wanna talk

what are your favorite songs off the album?  i love the eve, what u do?, and walk on memories <3

and i miss yixing terribly

please don't forget to comment, subscribe, and up-vote!

thank you for reading♥

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