2 – The Other half

Aiah’s POV

This is it.

I looked at myself in the mirror and I was satisfied. I wore my best clothes today, a navy blue button up shirt and black slacks, and topped my makeup with a finishing spray (whatever that is). When I received the acknowledgement email yesterday, I did my best not to celebrate too soon with alcohol. I can’t afford to go to work hung over.

Apparently, that guy from yesterday wrote as good as I did and now, the newspaper editor decided to give us a little “healthy” competition for the post. What the does “healthy” even mean though? Are we gonna have to eat vegetables and sometime along the way?

Anyway, this opportunity is still the opportunity that I can’t afford to miss. I’ve spent my whole life avoiding what seems to be my destiny and there is no mother fu—dging way I will let it slip. I have no idea why I’m still trying to censor myself.

“Oh, you made it,” that annoying guy greeted.

I wish I could punch him right in the gut. The smug on that guy’s face is so thick he’d take more than a makeup remover to clean it off. I sat across from him and rolled my eyes. The conference room is quite big but that guy’s arrogance is way bigger.

“I’m Ram Shin, by the way. Remember it. It’s the name that’s gonna get this job.” His deep voice reminds me of old radio announcers back then.

“You realize your name is Shin Ram, right?” I purposely mocked, “Your parents must have liked spicy ramyun a lot.”

“What? And what is YOUR full name, Ms. Kenya? huh??” He snatched my folder and immediately opened it before I could take it back, “Li Aiah. What are you, a Japanese?”

“It’s obviously Chinese, stupid . Ever heard of Jet Li being Japanese??? Gosh. I’m glad stupidity isn’t contagious.”

I snatched my folder from him and made sure I glared. Just then, a woman in a black silk dress came into the room.

“Good morning Ms. Li, Mr. Shin. I’m Sierra Kim, the EIC of The Daily Voice.” She shook our hands, “Are you ready for your tasks?”

“Yup.” I answered.

“Always ready, Ma’am.” The idiot chimed.

“Alright, here are the details of your coverage,” she handed each of us a folder.

“Ooh. Busan,” he said loudly.

When I heard him say Busan, I got overly excited to open my folder but my eyes went wide when I saw where my beat was.

“Uhm, excuse me Ms. Kim. But it says Gangwon here.”

I’m in Seoul and Gangwon is like two lightyears away. How will I even get there? Hire effin Superman?

“Don’t worry, our company will provide the lodging for you and your photo journalist.”

Photo journalist?

I scanned through the file Ms. Kim gave and saw the unfilled space for my photo journalist. Great. No name. I hope he’s not as arrogant and stupid as Shin Ramyun.

“You will be covering every single significant event in your respective beats and you are expected to send reports three times a week, whatever it is,” she turned to the next page, “And in the course of three months, I expect you to put together a photo-documentary of the place you are assigned in and of your experiences there. The best team will get the job in the paper. Easy, right?”

Sounds like this “job” is pretty serious. I can tell from Ms. Kim, probably in her mid-fifties, that she has experienced a lot of these through the years. I wonder if I can ever be like her. Someone who has accomplished something in a field she probably loved.

A few minutes later, a girl—a pretty girl, actually—appeared at the door. Ms. Kim greeted her and let her in. She introduced the young lady as Ramyun’s photo journalist. Wow. This girl apparently named Minah, is very unlucky.

The entire discussion regarding the details of our job has ended but my supposed partner did not arrive. I felt the mocking glances Ramyun gave me but I did my best not to explode. I can do this on my own even without a photographer.

“Well, Ms. Li, you may just send Mr. Oh an email. He might have just been caught in traffic.”

Mr. Oh. A Korean?

“Okay.” I said quietly.

We sat there while the others asked the editor lots of questions. In my case, I just let my mind wander as I looked out the window. The weather is a bit gloomy outside and I couldn’t help but let memories come back to me. Happy memories… sad… dark ones…

“I’m sorry, I got lost on my way here.” Lay said while wiping the sweat off his brow.

“How the f—udge did you get lost?” I stumbled with my words, “It’s a straight hallway.”

Lay flashed an amused smile at me. We had a deal and he asked me to lessen my cursing, just a little and in return, he will buy me ramen. I willingly obliged because I’m such a er for ramen. Who isn’t?

“That’s my good girl.”

He gently ruffled my hair while looking at me with his fond eyes. I couldn’t help but smile back at him, feeling my heart flutter at his mere presence. But everything changed after he…

Left.

“Aiah, open the door!”

I could hear the frantic knocks on my door clearly as if it just happened yesterday. I could no longer distinguish who’s who from their voices. My tears have dried up on my face and on my neck… yet, I was still crying. I’ve been crying for more than a month which felt like forever. A week ago, I was brought to a doctor. She talked to me but I didn’t tell her everything. I knew she couldn’t help me ease the pain because there was only one cure.

Him.

The orange prescription medicine bottle stood in front of me, watching me as if to make fun of my situation. I could hear its voice telling me that it was my only option to end the pain quickly and painlessly. I was so scared knowing that it was lying to me. I took it a few days ago and all I had were nightmares. Bad nightmares.

I dreamed of killing myself more than once and that night, I woke up... I’m not even sure if I slept at all or if it was even night. All I knew was that, when I looked down at my hands, they were stained.

With blood. My own blood.

Just when everything seemed so blurry, the door burst open and a handful of people came rushing in calling my name. The wrists that were burning in pain started to go numb. I felt myself being lifted up and when I was brought out of my room, everything went black.

I woke up the next day at a hospital with everybody watching me, tears in their eyes. My family, friends, and some I didn’t recognize. But the face I so longed to see wasn’t there. Then I just cried. I never broke down in front of them before that day. And not one bothered to ask. All of them seemed to have believed the lie I told them before.

That I was okay.

Seeing them too sad because of me hit me so hard that right at that moment, I promised myself that I will never see them this sad ever. They will never see self-inflicted wounds on my skin. They will never cry of pity for me again. They will never cry again because I was weak. From that moment, I resolved to build a different Aiah.

And so I thought. Because all I did was create a new lie.

“Anyway,” Ms. Kim said, “Let’s call it a d—“

“Sorry I’m late.”

We all turned to the person now standing at the door, catching his breath. His hair was disheveled and beads of sweat lined just below his brows.

“Heavy traffic?” Ms. Kim asked.

“No, I… got lost,” he answered.

--

a/n: I would like to emphasize that I do not, in anyway, condone or shame self harm.

On a lighter note, thank you for reading :) I am actually a bit worried about publishing on AFF. haha. I will post updates regularly to keep up with its Wattpad counter part:_

I wanna mention the first one to show support for the book, @xperiaminipro You are wonderful. Thank you :))