A few hours later, Sung Gyu found himself half concentrating on Hyerim as she walked hurriedly alongside him, explaining...something. He wasn’t sure what, as his mind was so preoccupied with so many things. He was wondering what his jail sentence was going to be, he was wondering if he’d have to leave his job for good. And how would the media react? What would the world say upon seeing the country’s youngest politician’s face plastered in every single TV screen, now not as the youngest politician but an actual, blackmarked criminal?

As they walked along, Sung Gyu’s two guards right behind him, he caught a few words then and there vaguely passing over his head. Once again, he caught and absorbed the most relevant bits. ‘Four voices. ‘...Unrecognised’, a name of a company he vaguely remembered but couldn’t connect to anything he knew and remembered.

“Just one wiretap, just 45 minutes” Hyerim said with emphasis as they finally reached a double-doored room. Sung Gyu gazed at her for a moment and blinked. So that was what it was all about? Just a single measly recording of forty-five minutes? That’s what’s about to ruin his life?

He was soon led into an interrogation room, and he felt prickles underneath his skin. Not once in his life had he ever imagined stepping into one. He hated the mediation room, he even hated the court where he worked for a good half of his career. And interrogation rooms. As he was led into a stiff wooden chair which looked horrifying even at glance, he realised, his life indeed has come to a standstill. Or it was over.

The two of his guards stood at either sides of him and he had to fight his urge to get rid of them. Hyerim, now almost unrecognisable as she’d switched her personalities, pulled out a laptop computer, fussed with some papers as she muttered something to herself, then finally gazed up at him.

“So, are you ready to have a listen?”

Sung Gyu didn’t think he’d ever be ready for that. But it was now or never, and he wanted it now.

He sat straight and laid his clasped hands on the table before him. “Yes. Yes, I am” He said.

There were four voices in total. As the recording played in the quietness of the room, he listened intently, and it took him a while to adjust his mind. It was difficult in the beginning to make a sense out of it. He only heard a vague set of voices in harsh s, a few words and phrases which made only subtle sense for him. It was subtle at first. But slowly, the truth dawned in his mind. Snippets of memories flashed past him; a locked mediation room, himself, his presiding judge and two other faces that he could barely make out. He closed his eyes, his hands trembling, his world spinning around him. The faces, the voices, that day about five years ago.

It hadn’t been a trick of his mind. It wasn’t even a false memory that he would have wanted to convince himself with. It was real. He remembered this day, these people, this person who put his life on the line. At first his voice was just small, inaudible even, putting in his opinion in the form of a yes or a no when the others wanted to know what he thought. It was fine, he thought. At least he wasn’t showing any direct involvement.

And then, his presiding judge asked him in his thick authoritative tone; “Judge Kim. Even if the sentence is reduced, the chances are that his position in the executive board would be terminated. Would that be feasible?”

There was a moment of silence, in the mediation room as well as the interrogation room all those years later. Sung Gyu stared at the back of the laptop computer, his heart pounding. What would himself from five years ago say? What foolish decision would he make which would ruin his life five years later?

There was a distinct sound of himself clearing his throat, followed by his voice. “My connections...believe that all charges need to be dropped”

Sung Gyu clenched his hand until his knuckles turned white, his eyes closed shut as if he could block out the rest of it from his mind. Connections, all charges dropped. Connections? What bloody connections did he have?

The recording paused and Sung Gyu glanced up to see Hyerim gazing at him, her eyes full of concern. “Do you want me to stop, Sir?”

He took a second to catch his breath, then vigorously shook his head. He wanted to hear more, know more otherwise this mystery would never have answers. “Please...continue”

The sound of the four voices filled the quietness of the room again. Then it was a whole lot of law related discussions, on how long the period of service was going to be and his plausible prison sentence and whatnot which he barely paid attention to. Then once again, the presiding judge addressed him.

“What do you think about dropping all the charges, Judge Kim? After all, this is ual harassment. If it wasn’t handled correctly there would be a massive uproar”

There was silence once more and Sung Gyu could almost remember what he said. He was angry and frustrated that he had to be dragged into it. Just as always, Sung Gyu only wanted to get away from it, so he did what he could, what the moment allowed him to.

“There isn’t enough proof to show that it happened, so its his words against hers”

He could almost recite that one line himself, and he could remember why he’d said that as well. Now it was all coming back to him, as if the floodgates had been opened. The case was related to Belle-Vie cosmetics, a large cosmetics brand which was owned by a Lady-CEO who’s name he’d somehow forgotten. The CEO was an old and treasured friend of Yeri’s parents, and her mother had approached him sometime in that summer, telling him that she’d already met and discussed the proceedings with the presiding judge of the case. It wasn’t even in his department, he wasn’t even directly involved in the discussions. But somehow, he had to be, as his mother in law had wanted him to be and constantly checked if he was ‘Looking into it’. And that’s what he was doing. He was looking into it and acting as the messenger for both sides, just for the sake of doing it, just for the sake of being on the good side.

He never imagined that it would come back to him and attack him right in the face. He should have known, even back then, that nothing good came out of doing favours for others. They would come and stab right back at him in the most unexpected moment possible.

The forty five minutes passed and the recording ended; the room soon falling into utter silence. There weren’t many occasions in the recording where Sung Gyu was directly involved in the discussion, but it was more than evident that he was somehow a part of it. And considering the position that he was in, the entire situation was rather precarious. A secretive informant. It was working in his mind the whole time. A secretive informant and the case was almost entirely related to his wife, his ex-wife whom he filed divorce with just that morning.

It didn’t take long before he started making connections. His ex-wife, her parents, his position in the society and what they were capable of doing to him. The sheer complexity of the problem was driving him crazy, and to think that...

Was he right to think that Yeri and her parents had anything to with it? For the past year that they’d been separated, he’d neglected her, walked away from her, shown her his dissatisfaction of having her in his life more often than not. More than anyone, he was aware of what he’d been doing to her. But she’d tolerated. She kept coming back to him, and he’d thought she’d been fine with it. But what if, this whole time, she was making plans to screw him over and avenge for what happened to her?

His heart pounded and head began to hurt at the very thought of her. He knew there was something shifty behind her smile, behind her gaze and her attention to even the tiniest detail of him. Even in that morning she might have acted as if she didn’t give two pence; but underneath it all, she knew that he was lying, she knew that he was faking behind a terrible hang over. She knew it all. Worse of all was that she knew it for a fact that his position in the legislation was on the line.

“So what happens now is, we’re looking into the said informants who had released the tape. And until we have a lead, the tape and everything else will remain confidential” Hyerim was telling him urgently, her voice small and distant in his ears. He glanced up at him in a distracted daze and gazed at her for a long time. He wanted answers, he wanted her to give him answers. He didn’t care who the informant was, if he was to be honest. He just wanted to know jut how ed his life was going to be, and if he would ever have someone saving him from what nightmare this whole thing was going to be.

“Okay” He nodded and gulped hard. He stared at her for a moment then, questions floating listlessly around him. Then he picked one right off his head and asked her; “What’s going to happen to me?”

Hyerim contemplated for a moment and shook her head. “For the moment, nothing. We’re investigating the cosmetics company, the employees who were involved as well as the other judges involved. Until we have enough evidence, nothing else would happen”

Sung gyu nodded. “If you have enough evidence?”

Hyerim shrugged. “The case will be prosecuted”

“Which case?” He asked her.

“The case where the executive member of the cosmetics company was given a wrong and biased judgement”

Sung Gyu pursed his lips and nodded. Right. That’s what they were going to do. And it would cause an uproar, it certainly would. Then the recordings would be out in the open, somehow, and his identity in the entire issue would be revealed. Then all he’d be left with would be sitting back and watching as his life went down the drain.

Then on the other hand there would be his parents, his sister and everyone who looked up to him and believed in him eventually leaving him behind to fend for himself on his own. Sung Gyu didn’t want to imagine the rest of his plausible reality. He didn’t want to see where that would take him. He’d read and seen enough about politicians who’d been tangled up in storms of scandals, and none of them had actually ended up well. The last time somebody’s wiretapped conversations were released in the media, someone involved tried to kill themselves.

“Mister Kim?” Hyerim’s voice sounded mildly in the room, and he looked up to meet her same warm and concerned gaze. It was strange really, how he was beginning to see her differently. NIS would never have been so lenient towards a politician in a scandal. They’d never even try to look at things in the offender's perspective. He might not be entirely responsible here, but the social norm was never the same. Sung Gyu felt a tinge of inexplicable respect towards her. She might have always been the bothersome, unwanted presence in his life for a time longer than he imagined, but still, at times that he really wanted her, she was there.

“Mister Kim” She tried again, and he came to upon the louder tone of her voice.

“Yes” He replied.

“Well, just to make matters clear, investigations are under way as to whom the informants could be. As there was also an attack in your personal home, there would be a NIS guard at your disposal all time around. Would that be fine with you?”

Sung Gyu blinked. “Other than my security?”

“Your security will not be at your disposal at all circumstances, I believe?”

“So, there will be someone guarding me at home too” He clarified.

“That’s the plan” She nodded.

“Who is it going to be?”

Hyerim stared at him for a moment too long, and he stared back at her, waiting for her to respond. It took her a while, but slowly that small mischievous curve of her lips appeared. She didn’t reply to his question; not in a way that pleased him at least. But he felt as if he already knew what her answer was going to be.

That afternoon, Sung Gyu didn’t go back to his flat. He couldn’t, because just as he stepped out of the NIS office after the meeting, he got a call in his private phone, and he did the mistake of distractedly picking it up. It was his mother. They were in the town. And they wanted him to see them at his sister’s place.

If he was to be completely honest, he didn’t have the best relationship with his father and his mother. His father was small yet quiet and intimidating; a trait he supposed he had inherited from his father himself. He was a perfectionist, and for this reason, somehow, Sung Gyu’s father could easily detect a flaw in another. He had eyes of a hawk, and he could trace back to the very beginning upon seeing a single shift in Sung Gyu’s life. He supposed that’s what made his father a good, respectable judge, what made him a good citizen of the society. That’s exactly what which would make him a terrible politician as well. Worse of all, however was that it was never easy to be under the constant judgement of his eyes.

Both of his parents, just like himself prior to rebelling and moving out, resided in the central city of Jeonju. His father was a county judge who was later appointed the city Mayor and held the position for as long as five years. His mother herself was a notable person in the city council; and under their influence, his sister engaged in politics rather diligently, who was later appointed a council member as well.

Sung Gyu, from the very beginning, was the runt of the family. He’d heard that in every litter of kittens, there was the runt; the weak one, the one who was neglected, unloved and left to die on its own. That was what Sung Gyu was ever since he tried to make different choices in his life. He didn’t want to be like his entire family. Not another council member, not another mayor, and no-god forbid-not another judge. He hated their lifestyle, he hated being so...dull and lifeless and indifferent. And that attempt of his to make a difference in his life pushed him away from his family. He started being the stupid one, the one who didn’t try hard, think enough, who just didn’t understand. “Be like your sister” He’d been told million times. “Don’t disappoint your father” just as many times, the same. At the end of it all, his parents created a different person, a monster. And Sung Gyu just didn’t know who he was or what he wanted to be; not anymore.

“Sung Gyu” Called his sister just as she opened the door into her apartment. She lived in Seoul now, as she left her job in the council upon her pregnancy. She was married to a prosecutor, and he earned just about enough for the family, so for the moment, his sister stayed at home with her children. He was sort of glad that it took that turn. Had she made yet another milestone in her life, the hurdles that Sung Gyu had to cross would be higher.

“Noona” He sighed and tried to take a glance over her shoulder. “Are mum and dad inside?”

“Yeah, they’ve been waiting” She told him, opening the door wider, allowing him inside.

“You look off” Jieun-his sister-commented as took off his court and his shoes. Jieun, just like his father, was quite attentive. He wasn’t surprised that it was the first thing she noticed upon his arrival.

“I’m fine” He groaned and walked past her into her home. Jieun’s place was nice, warm and minimalistic. Since her two children were still very young, the floors were almost always littered with toys and carpets with food stains. It smelled of baby talc and detergent, and to walk into the living area he always had to dodge a few pieces of Lego littered about. In that warm and homey atmosphere, seated in the beat-up sofa set, his parents just looked out of place.

“Mum, Dad” He greeted the either of them, and his mother walked over to him and kissed him on his cheek. Sung Gyu could tolerate his mother actually. She also had her flaws and quirks, but she still had a motherly side to her and treated him like he actually mattered.

“Sung Gyu, you’ve lost so much weight” She said, a hand resting gently on a side of his face. He tried to smile, which he was sure came out wrong. “Been busy with work” He excused himself. The truth was, however, Sung Gyu was not here for small talk. He didn’t do small talks, he didn’t do pleasantries anymore. He wanted to get to straight to the point of any conversation and be done with it.

“So what brought you here?” he asked them; blunt and no pleasantries. His parents looked at one another as his sister shifted uncomfortably in her chair. His mother met his gaze as he lowered himself into a sofa seat, her face expressionless and dull, just like she’d always been. “Well, Yeri spoke to me this afternoon”

Yeri. Song Yeri; and the divorce. With all the qualms that was happening around him, it had almost skipped his mind. He closed his eyes and lowered his head. Perhaps, one of the reasons why he’d always been pushing back the divorce despite their reasons was this. His parents. They were both too conservative for their own good and Sung Gyu’s blatantly failing marriage had always been their biggest concern. His mother told him once that sometimes marriage was always about tolerating one another. He didn’t want to tolerate one another. He wanted it to end. But he also knew that the fate of their marriage would only end up disappointing his parents once all over again, and he hated that. He hated having to be the one always disappointing them. Not that he particularly cared about them being disappointed, because that’s their own bloody problem finding fault in everything that he did. It was only that, after all he’d do, they would still end up making him feel like about himself.

“So is it true? Did you two really file divorce?” His mother prodded on.

“She wanted it” He muttered in response.

“But you two could have discussed it further, you could have done something about it, surely? Come down to a better arrangement?”

“He’s too much a coward for that” Put in his father, cutting off his mother. Sung Gyu’s father had been quiet for the most part but Sung Gyu knew what that quietness meant. He hated it that all he had to tell him was how badly he thought of him. Sung Gyu grew up constantly being told what to do or say; and him stepping over the boundaries that they’d set for him would always be perceived as wrong. They believed that he was not capable of commitment, just because he dated left and right; they never understood that he was only searching for the one he felt compatible with. The moment he felt too comfortable with Yeri, his parents started talking behind his back and insinuating that it was yet another relationship of his that would end up terribly. “Sung Gyu’s scared of commitment” his mother happened to tell Yeri herself and Sung Gyu could still remember the way Yeri looked at him, a quiet inquiry in her eyes. The only reason why he ended up actually marrying her was to prove it to her, to them, to everyone that it wasn’t him who was afraid of commitment, it was just how everyone perceived him. In the end, it was him who fell into a place that he didn’t want to be in. Yet, at the end of it all, he’s still at fault.

It’s just so hard to please people, and he wanted to stop doing that. But the thing was that on the other hand, he didn’t want to appear a failure either.

But a failure was what he’d always been in his father’s eyes. It was sort of like Sung Gyu’s father was a mad scientist with Sung Gyu being his constantly failing experiment. He would never admit to the fact that it was him who ruined him for the most part; never giving him enough love and affection, treating him like trash. Rather, Sung Gyu’s father liked to think that Sung Gyu ruined things for himself. Sung Gyu wasn’t even going to try. He’d tried; myriad times. But now he was too old and too tired to argue and fight for himself. He let him call him a coward. He let him treat him like . Then he’d go home and smoke a cigarette and curse his father under his breath.

“What happens now?” His mother prodded on, ignoring his father’s comment. His mother always ignored his father’s comments. And sometimes she claimed that he acted like that because he was developing dementia.

“I don’t know” He replied sincerely. He really didn’t know himself. For one, it puts him in a terrible position; with work as well as emotionally. It wasn’t like Yeri provided him any solid emotional support. But she was there, just there, and that, sometimes was enough for him. Now he had nobody at all.

“What about work?” went on his mother as if she’d read his mind.

“What government ministry would want a divorcee in their offices?” His father, once again, put in resentfully. “Do you have any idea how one’s personal life could affect their political agenda?”

Sung Gyu remained quiet. He knew that there was no basis of truth behind this. People compartmentalised their lives in this day and age. Besides there are enough divorcees playing powerful roles in politics. It was not his part to explain this to his conservative old-school father. He better educate himself.

“I don’t suppose his work would be affected” his sister finally stepped into rescue. “Besides, if they were unhappy, who are we to say anything?”

Sung Gyu felt thankful to her, thankful but only slightly, because he knew that his sister hardly meant well. She wanted to be the good and the perfect child in everything. It just gave her brownie points.

His mother let out a soundly sigh. “How are you feeling Sung Gyu? You could have talked to us”

He felt like total . Not that he could admit that to anyone of them. “I’m fine” He lied. Then he looked around the room, at his parents gazing blankly at him. “Is that the whole reason why you came here?”

His mother sighed again, like he was at fault for everything. “Your sister’s been telling me that you weren’t visiting her. And you hardly ever call us. We were only meaning to see you. And then this happened”

“I’m fine mum” He groaned.

“We really hope you were” His mother went on monotonously. “But it feels like you’re distancing from us, further and further”

Sung Gyu looked up at he with a shard gaze. “That’s hardly my fault”

“You should talk to us at least” went on his mother, staring into a corner as if she barely heard him. “You should call and see how your parents are doing, like any son would”

Sung Gyu knew what all this was about. It had never been about him. They’d start with that, if he was fine, if he was doing well; but that was only for the sake of asking him while what it truly meant was that he was neglecting his parents after all they’ve done to raise him, on and on until he felt even worse about himself. His mother had this strange idea that the sole purpose of children was to look after their elderly parents and carry along their family line. Like in the days of the kings, he had to say. What about him, then? He wanted to ask them. If all his parents were going to do for him was seeing his faults and criticising him every time he turned, who was going to be there for him when he needed it? Who was going to call him and ask him if he was fine?

Not his family, as it happened.

“I’ve been busy, okay?” He returned harsher than he intended to. He was tired really, tired of having to deal with them, tired of having to deal with life, of living. “Mum, if this is why you wanted me to come all the way here, you really shouldn’t have done that. This is not doing either of us any good” Sung Gyu told her as bluntly as he could. At a time like this, he had to preserve himself. And to do that, he had to eliminate as many as negative forces around him; as of this moment, the strongest was them, his family.

“Sung Gyu!” His sister called him out and Sung Gyu threw at her his same cold glare. “You too, you should have known better”

“Is that how you talk to your mother?” Bellowed his father, and at this point, Sung Gyu realised it was his cue to leave. There was no point trying to make them understand; and this was his life which was going into ruins. No matter how hard he tried, his parents will always be disappointed, his sister will always strive to make him look bad, and he would always be in the middle of their storm, tired and lost. All he could do at that point was gather himself and leave; self-preservation at its best.

“For god’s sake, I’m leaving” He informed them and stormed out of the room.

The thing was, he sort of liked coming to his noona’s home. He liked it because when she was not being the centre of attention, she was actually kind of nice, and he loved her children. He loved them the most. He loved carrying them around and letting her daughter play hair-dresser on his head. He loved singing her son to sleep when she wasn’t watching and loved to gaze at him as he drifted away, wondering what Sung Gyu’s own life could have been if things had been different. He had hoped to see her children that afternoon, he had thought they’d help him keep his frustration at bay. And so, when he stormed out of the house and when his sister’s six-year-old daughter returned home the same moment he went for the door, something strong inside him died.

“Samchon?” She called him softly, her doe eyes widened in surprise. She’d let go of her caretaker’s hand, timidly stepping over to him. It’s been months since he last saw her, but every time he did, his heart would inflate with an infinite amount of love for her. “Samchon!” She exclaimed, this time, a little louder and she launched at him. Sung Gyu felt heavy in his heart. He couldn’t stay. He had to leave. But the little girl was surely going to hold him back.

“Sweetheart” He started, crouching down before her. Sung Gyu had never been particularly fond of children; that was of course until he met Yooah, and everything changed. “I can’t stay today” He told her apologetically.

Yooah puffed her cheeks in response. “But I just got home...”

Sung Gyu’s sister’s voice came from behind him, and Sung Gyu climbed up on his feet, ready to go. “I’ll visit again, soon”

“Do you promise?” Yooah asked him, her small stubby hand held out, fingers folded for a promise.

Sung Gyu glanced behind him, at his sister who watched their exchange, her expression cold and indifferent. Then he turned back to her child. “I promise you” He muttered, slipped his pinkie finger around the tiny one of hers and pressed their thumbs together. “I promise you”