-=Chapter 1: Be Careful What You Wish For =-

Dara sighed.


Her life lacked excitement.


Here she was, a college graduate, working as a journalist for one of Korea’s newspapers.


Fun and exciting, right?!

 Which journalist in their right mind would not jump at the chance to write for THE Seoul Herald?!


Oh, yeah.


She was working for one of Korea’s most prestigious newspapers.


As an entertainment columnist.


God.


If she’d known that she would spend four gruelling years in college for Journalism only to work for a newspaper’s entertainment section, she would have just screwed Journalism and studied Music and Arts and gotten herself enrolled as one of YG Entertainment’s artists.


But noooooo.


She had to be stubborn and “pursue her dream.”


Aisht.


Carpe Diem.


Seize the day.


‘Yeah, right. I would like to seize the freaking day I got into this job and throttle it’, she thought to herself, as she made her way to the Coffee Princess, her favorite coffee joint.


She badly needed her dose of caffeine today.


‘Who friggin’ cares what Yubin’s favorite things are?! Who gives a dang about G-Dragon’s freaking dog freaking joining him in the freaking MAMA awards?! Who needs to know that people are sh*tting over 2NE1 winning all those awards?! WHO?!’ she fumed to herself.


Well, apparently a LOT of people cared, seeing as she had the most fan and hate mails, the most comments, and the most number of bashers and fans, than all the other writers and staff put together.


God, how pathetic can I get?!


Dara finally made it into the café, its warmth and the delicious smell of brewed coffee momentarily taking away all her negative vibes. She smiled a bit at the music being played over the café’s speakers. 2NE1’s I Don’t Care, reggae version. Nice.


“He-llo Dara-ya!” greeted Bom, the owner/ barista/ waitress/ janitor of Coffee Princess, from the counter.


“Hey there, Bom!” Dara greeted back, smiling at the familiar face of the woman she had come to call her friend.


She stumbled into this café a year ago, bedraggled, frustrated, and confused, as she received her first hate mail from a reader when she made an article about Joon Ji-Hoon, aka Rain, and Song Hye-Kyo.


Hey! Was it MY fault that I found the couple cute and I couldn’t resist writing about them?!


And yah! Was it MY fault that a photographer caught them going into a hotel together?! How was that my fault, huh? HOW?!


The unfairness of the world made the then-rookie Dara almost cry in frustration.


The warm and inviting window of the Coffee Princess beckoned to her, and she got in, not knowing that she would meet another Park girl, who she would come to consider as one of her sweetest and closest friend.


Bom was her rock, as bar men were to sailors.



“Rough day?” the slightly older girl said, noting Dara’s eyebags that made her look like they grew eyes instead of the other way around, and the way she slumped over the counter.


“You wouldn’t believe how rough,” Dara murmured enough for her to hear.


“That bad huh? Let me guess, does this have something to do with a certain Park Jaebom and your article about him?” Bom asked, as she expertly whipped up a cappuccino, spiced with a bit of gin, just the way Dara loved it during her “woe is me” days.


“How did you know?!” Dara asked sarcastically, making the other girl laugh.


“Yah, I got so many hate mail today just because I didn’t jump into the stupid ‘Hate Jaebom!!!!’ bandwagon and demand that he be sacrificed to the cannibals and his remains pitched to the crocodiles,” she started to rant, as Bom just nodded, wisely shutting .


She knew that Dara needed to let off serious steam. And when her friend was like that, it was just easier and wiser to just shut up and let her rant off.


“I mean, the guy was sorry, wasn’t he?! Besides, he made all those comments when he was just new here, didn’t he? And he’s making such great waves in the music industry; it would be a shame to see him go, wouldn’t it?! AISSHHHHTTTT! Stupid, brainless, idiotic…” Dara faded off, banging her head on her arms, which crossed on the table, repeatedly.


“Here. Drink this, it would make you feel better,” Bom said, handing Dara an extra large mug of coffee, after lacing it with a more-than-generous amount of gin.


“Thank you, Bommie,” Dara replied tiredly, getting up from the high-chairs around the counter, and slowly trudging to “her” spot at the very crook of the café near the window, as Bom turned after giving her a smile, entertaining another costumer who came in.


That costumer was tall, clad in a cliché long, black, leather jacket (think Let Me Hear Your Voice ensemble), with black hair, swept to one side, covering his left eye.


He was cute.


Fine, he was handsome.


Dara rolled her eyes to herself.


‘Yeah, right. I get surrounded by superficial, hot guys everyday, how could this one be different?!’ she thought jadedly as she sat down.


Dara sipped her coffee, letting the bite roll on her tongue. She stared outside the glass windows, watching the same scenery, drinking the same coffee, and wishing the same wishes of ‘Please let me cover a REAL story’ and ‘I want to be a REAL journalist, dammit!.’


‘I wish something new and exciting and fun would happen to my life. One that would NOT involve another person’s public life, but MY own. Dang girl, really, get a life. A new, exciting and fun one. Like seriously,’ she thought pensively, sipping more of the hot drink, watching a bus with “G-Dragon’s Shine a Light Concert!” banner pass by.


“Please, just this once,” she whispered to her eyes, closing her eyes.


Suddenly, a gun-shot reverberated in the air, and a deep, commanding voice said, “Don’t move and raise your hands to the air. NOW!”


Dara snapped her eyes open in time to see Bom faint.

The handsome, new customer had raised a shiny, black automatic, .45 magnum high up in a threatening manner.

 He then proceeded to turn to lock the door, and order the people near the windows to pull the venetian blinds down.

The blonde woman that came in a few minutes before the armed man gasped and immediately followed his instructions, along with everyone else who also scurried to comply.


The big man with the big gun looked threatening. For real.


She watched as his gaze scanned the room of cowering people who looked back at him with scared, pitiful eyes.


Then his eyes stopped roaming and settled on her.


Dara gulped.


He walked in her direction.


‘Oh crap,’ Dara thought before he raised the gun again, and pointed it squarely on her forehead.




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Oh well Dara-ya. You got your wish right? Something exciting happening to you? Keke!

Comments are love! <3

Kudos,

~Belle