Ji Chang Wook wasn't sure what time it was or even what day, but right now all he wanted to do was lie down so he could get over this throbbing pain in his head.

He was propped up in a chair doing his best not to slump over while his makeup artist worked frantically to hide the dark circles under his eyes. She had taken one look at his pale face earlier this morning and instantly shoved a large pomegranate juice into his hand shaking her head as she ordered him to stay hydrated.

"What happened to you? Did you break up with that girl already?"

Chang Wook swallowed hard. He was not ready to talk about it. He wasn't sure if he would ever be ready. He felt so raw, he couldn't imagine revealing what happened to anyone. Not even to his closest friends.
 

He had already spent what felt like eternity wallowing in misery and anger, trying to drown everything with more soju. He didn't know what had hurt more. The betrayal by his old friend, the pain in JiHyun's voice or the realization that he, Ji Chang Wook, was a pathetic fool and a nobody. He thought he had climbed so high from his humble roots but everything was a lie. He was just a senseless puppet... merely here to look pretty.
 

Most of yesterday had been a haze of sleeping off his hangover only to wake up and feel the pain again. So he had drank some more until he passed out. Apparently the other night he had been in no shape to go home to his Omma's house so Bang Chi Gu had taken him home with him. The only reason he had gotten out of bed at all was because his manager  had dragged his sorry , dumped it into the bathtub and the cold water. .

He was still furious with Chi Gu about everything. And he had told him that, over and over. Called that friend so many names. Cried. Cursed. Manager Bang had looked almost close to tears himself, but he had still propped him up, and made sure he was dressed and ready to go to his schedule.

His friend (ex-friend?) had been hovering close to him all day, but right now all Chang Wook felt was a grinding lethargy. He wondered how soon it would be before he could go home and sleep.

But soon strong hands pull him up. A voice urges him to get it together and then he is walked to a stage where it feels like a thousand fans are screaming.
 

He pastes on a smile and waves to the flashing cameras.

Nam Ji Hyun had woken up the next morning feeling confused to find herself in a strange house. She sat up and realized she had fallen asleep on the wood floor while resting on her bag. Her muscles ached and she stretched them out and sleepily rubbed her eyes. Then, suddenly, it all came back to her.

This was her parent's house. She was in Incheon.

In the soft light of the new day, she could see that the little villa was not completely empty. Where she fell asleep must be the living room for on one side there was a wall of windows where the bright morning light filtered through.  On the other stood a built-in bookshelf that still held little odds and ends. The room gave way to a smaller area with a little table and a set of chairs.  The dining room perhaps.

She walks to the bookshelf, and traces a little pattern in the dust. There were a few books leaning against each other. She picks one up and glances at the cover.  The Love Poems of Rumi. It's thin pages are yellowed and worn; behind it lies a book on natural herbs and a few other paperbacks. She sets the book down then continues on further into the house, her footsteps sounding loud in the empty rooms.
 

Echoes of the past seemed to linger in the soft morning light, tricking her mind into seeing memories too long ago for her to have remembered. A tiny JiHyun had once toddled down these corridors. Her Omma and Appa had perhaps held her here. They had loved here; slept, ate and cared here. She imagined them getting ready each morning around the little breakfast table. 

Near the kitchen she notices stairs to the left. She walks up the creaky steps to discover a large common area and a few doors leading off from it. The first turns out to be the master bedroom. A large bed still stood near one wall, though it was bare of any sheets or pillows. Across from it stood a pair of french doors that led to a sunny balcony.

She retraces her steps and goes to look at the other rooms. One is completely empty, only filled with dust motes floating in the air. In the other she sees a little crib sitting in a corner. How miraculous. Even after 20 years it was still here. She gently touches the painted wood, imagining her Omma and Appa standing here watching her sleeping. She had been too little to remember her parents; but, in  the hush of the room, she could almost feel the love they had for her like a warm blessing and benediction.

It's a wonder the house had been left untouched for so long yet kept so well. She had expected it to be run-down, or overgrown with weeds and moss; but, aside from the dust it almost felt as if a family could walk in here at any time.

It is then, just at that very moment, she hears footsteps coming up the steps. She freezes, wondering if she had perhaps imagined it. But the steps come closer and closer and JiHyun watches wide-eyed as a woman  appears at the bedroom door. Their eyes meet, and the woman shrieks with fright. Her legs start to crumble and JiHyun hurries over to catch her before she could fall.

"Oh, dear sweet Lord," the woman gasps, her face draining of any color

"Are you alright?" JiHyun asks anxiously. She hadn't meant to frighten the woman. But how had she gotten in?

The woman stares at her wide-eyed, her face a mixture of disbelief and shock. Her hands slowly come up, shaking slightly as they come within a whisper of JiHyun's cheek.

"I thought.... I thought you were a ghost."

The fingers suddenly pull back and the woman straightens up, shaking off JiHyun's hands.
 

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" she demands.

Nam Ji Hyun had the exact same questions, but the greyness in the other woman's face worries her more. She wonders if there is somewhere they can sit down.

"Let's go downstairs, shall we?" JiHyun urges lightly, leading the other woman down the steps, "We can talk there."

Once downstairs she pulls out one of the chairs near the dining table and helps the other lady get settled. Then she pulls one out for herself, sits down and takes a deep breath.

"My name is Nam Ji Hyun," she begins,  "My parents used to own this place and I was recently told that it now belongs to me."

"Nam- Nam Ji Hyun?" the woman looks at her in shock, "Nam Hyu