Even though the private room that the hospital had given Chorong was one of their biggest and most expensive rooms, Eunji felt suffocated among the mountain-loads of flowers, letters, and get-well packages from their fans. She had to dodge a different pile of gifts with each step, and that was no easy task with her healing ankle. At least she was off her crutches now; having to maneuver through this endless forest of pink balloons and stuffed animals with crutches would have been a near-impossible task. 

Still, Eunji had to admit that all the gifts definitely added some much-needed color to the room. Now, rather than being surrounded by plain white walls, she was surrounded by a sea of pink.

Pink waves, she thought fondly. 

They had done a good job straying away from the public eye so far. As far as they knew, no one knew what hospital Chorong was staying in. And if they did, they didn’t know which room she was in. All of these gifts from their fans had been sent to their company building. Thinking that it would be nice for Chorong to see and feel the love of their fans when she woke up, they had moved some of the gifts to her room. All of the remaining gifts were being stored in a spare room in the company building, though last Eunji heard, that room was filling up quickly.

As room-cluttering as the gifts were, Eunji treasured each and every single one of them. Just seeing how much their fans cared for Chorong made Eunji love them and her job even more than she already did. 

“You see, Unnie?” Eunji squeezed Chorong’s hand. “So many people love you and are waiting for you to wake up.” As expected, there was no reply. Eunji looked down at the older woman, who looked the same as she had looked the last time Eunji visited her: peaceful and like she was merely sleeping rather than laying in a coma. If only that was the case.

“We’re waiting for you, Unnie,” Eunji murmured sadly. “So please hurry up and wake up soon.”

At this rate, even the tiniest of movements would lift Eunji’s spirits―even just an abnormal breath or fluttering of eyelids. Eunji sat and monitored Chorong for any signs, as small as they might be, that she would be waking up soon. But it was like staring at a still painting; other than the steady rising and falling of Chorong’s chest, the leader remained completely still.

Eunji sighed. At least she looked peaceful.

It was so quiet in the room that when Eunji’s phone rang, she nearly jumped out of her seat and knocked over a tower of letters. A colorful curse escaped her startled mouth as her hands immediately searched for her phone in her back pocket.

Bomi’s name lit up her screen. Eunji accepted the call and answered, “Bbom-ah?”

“Eunji-ah! What are you doing right now?”

“I’m visiting Chorong-unnie. Is something wrong?”

“Turn on the TV to channel nine.” Bomi’s voice sounded urgent, almost out of breath, and Eunji knew what was coming next.

“Has the interview been released?” she asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“Yes.” The answer was only one word, yet it still managed to knock the air out of Eunji’s chest. 

She began scrambling for the remote controller, which was laying among stacks of letters and gifts on the table beside Chorong’s bed. Once she successfully extracted the controller without accidentally destroying the neatly stacked letters and gifts, Eunji quickly pressed the power button. The TV mounted on the wall clicked on to some cooking channel that Eunji would have stayed on had she not had more important matters to attend to. When she changed the channel to nine and Junwoo’s face appeared on the screen, constricted and apprehension knotted in her chest. 

“I’m watching it right now. I’ll call you later when I’m done, okay?” With that, Eunji hung up and set her phone down. She leaned back in her chair, gripping the armrests tightly, and tried to calm her nervous heart.

“Yesterday night, Plan A, the company of the hit girl group Apink, released an official statement that caused quite a stir among the Kpop community,” the anchor said with the poise of a professional. “After seeing many pictures of the Apink members visiting Seoul National University Hospital on separate occasions, all without their leader Park Chorong, fans have long been speculating the fate of the beloved singer. Their speculations were proven true with Plan A’s announcement that Park Chorong had indeed been involved in an accident and now lays in a coma. Kim Junwoo, the man behind the wheel the night of the accident, has agreed to an exclusive interview with us at KBS News. Lee Minseo has the latest.”

The screen shifted, and Eunji braced herself.

Junwoo had taken caution in his appearance; he wore a nice button-up and black slacks. He had even styled his hair away from his forehead. Still, all that care put into his appearance couldn’t ebb away his nervousness that was as evident as it had been when he met with all of the members. Being seated next to the perfectly composed reporter did him no justice either.

“This is Lee Minseo of KBS News, here with Kim Junwoo.” Minseo, a middle-aged woman whose beauty had not yet felt the touch of time, gestured to Junwoo. “Thank you for joining us today, Junwoo.”

Junwoo bowed his head. “Thank you for having me.”

“So far we have the statement released by Plan A and the various speculations of thousands of fans, but we have yet to hear your side of the story. Would you care to explain the events of that night?”

Cautiously, Junwoo retold the same story that he had told the members. Though she had not doubted him, Eunji still appreciated that he spoke objectively and did not once try to justify his actions. At the end, Junwoo looked straight into the camera so deeply that Eunji felt that he was talking directly to her and the other members that were surely watching. “I sincerely apologize for my carelessness and the distress that I have caused everyone. I know that this may not mean much to those watching and that it may seem like a very sorry excuse for what I have done, but… No, there is no ‘but’. What I have done is inexcusable, and the only thing I can do is extend my deepest apologies and fullest cooperation. So to all those that I have caused pain...I am so, so sorry.”

“Thousands of fans across the world have expressed their anger and hatred for you. How do you intend on going about this?”

He hesitated. “I’m not hoping to be forgiven. I could not expect that from anyone. I don’t expect anything from anyone. For now, I’m going to cooperate as much as I can, and perhaps one day, people will not forgive, but instead...see me less as a monster who caused all this suffering.”

“So you want people to see you differently, is that right?” When Junwoo nodded, Minseo asked, “And how exactly is that different from forgiveness?”

It was a harsh question, and even through the television screen, Eunji felt the sting of Minseo’s words.

“I…,” Junwoo had paled slightly, uncertainty all too evident in his expression. “I would like people to see my side of the story and understand why I did what I did, but I won’t urge them to use the information in a certain way. I won’t expect them to be kinder to me because of it.”

“Do you think you deserve this mercy?”

Again, Junwoo faltered. “No. I don’t think I deserve any mercy.” He hung his head in shame. The way he was giving up so easily and accepting all the misfortune coming his way...he reeked of weakness and cowardice. It was better than him being the opposite, but a part of Eunji wished that he would make himself seem less spineless. 

The reporter nodded, her face revealing not a hint of emotion or bias in the matter. “You’ve stated what you would like to say to Chorong’s friends, family, and fans, but what would you like to say to Chorong?”

Junwoo fiddled nervously with his fingers, but he didn’t seem very taken aback by this question, unlike he had been for the previous one. It was almost as though he had rehearsed what he would have liked to say to Chorong when she woke up. “First I would say that I’m sorry. I know that it may sound trivial and superficial, but I believe that an apology is in order here. I would tell her the reason why I was speeding and ended up running that red light. I would say that...the urgency of my situation in no way justifies my irresponsibility. Nothing in the world could. I tore her away from her friends, family, and fans and ripped apart the lives of those that care deeply about her. I caused this...this pain that will forever leave a gaping hole in people’s lives, whose wounds will likely heal, but never truly fade away. I’ve done something so horrible that asking for mercy or even the slightest of kindness would be selfish. I don’t deserve Chorong’s forgiveness or kindness. Of all the hatred that I have been and will be receiving, hers is the one that I deserve the most. So I will apologize, explain myself, and then accept whatever she chooses to do.”

 Of all the hatred that I have been and will be receiving, hers is the one that I deserve the most. Eunji looked down at Chorong. Despite Junwoo’s words and the truth behind them, Eunji knew that Chorong wouldn’t hate him. She was too kind and understanding to deliberately cause him more pain. If anything, Chorong would ask to see Junwoo’s mom just to ensure her well-being. 

Eunji felt a twinge in her chest. She hadn’t forgiven Junwoo, and she hadn’t been expecting to. But if Chorong, the person who should hate Junwoo the most, could bring herself to forgive him, then shouldn’t Eunji find it in herself to do the same? 

The rest of the interview went by quickly, and the moment it ended and the news moved on to another story, Eunji turned the TV off. She pulled her phone out, but instead of calling Bomi back like she had promised, she went straight to the internet.

To say that the comments were harsh was an understatement. The public was furious, and each ill-wishing comment was laced with white-hot anger directed towards Junwoo. Eunji knew that she shouldn’t be surprised by how quickly the netizens were to respond, but it still shocked her how many people had already taken to the internet in the span of a few minutes. Her notifications on every social media platform were flooded with comments regarding the situation, some cursing Junwoo and others worrying for Chorong’s and the others’ well-beings. 

Absolute trash. He deserves to rot in a cell. How can they not be pressing any charges...

How hard is it to see a red light? Those things are so bright.

Maybe if he took some of his nose’s size and gave it to his eyes, he would have been able to see better.

I’m happy that Apink will still be doing their year-end performances, but I’m worried about their health...Shouldn’t they rest?

He deserves to be in a coma, not Chorong. 

Legal actions won’t be made? Come on, Plan A...Do you even care about Chorong?

As much as Eunji knew that she should stop reading the nasty comments, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from them. Even though none of the anger was directed towards her, she felt their loathing and disappointment all the same. As the heated comments piled up, it felt like someone was pressing lumps of hot coal onto her gut and that, if she continued reading, they would sear through her belly and scorch her stomach, which had begun to feel sick.

She only stopped reading the comments when her phone started vibrating and Bomi’s name replaced the malicious words that had begun to burn their way through her mind. 

“Hello?” she answered, grateful for the reprieve.

“Stop reading the comments,” Bomi said.

“I…,” Eunji started. “How’d you know?”

“I know you.” 

“93-line telepathy?”

“93-line telepathy,” Bomi affirmed.

“Did you read them?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And? What do you think?”

“I think…,” Bomi sighed. “I think that reading them won’t do us any good.”

Eunji knew that Bomi was right, but she also knew that she would have a difficult time staying away from them.  “How do you think Junwoo is?”

“I don’t know. The comments toward him are really cruel, though. I hope he’s okay.”

Surprisingly, Eunji found herself agreeing with Bomi. Above all, though, Eunji hoped that Junwoo’s mother was okay, since she was indirectly involved. Unlike Junwoo, she deserved none of the public backlash.

“What are you doing now, Unnie?” Eunji asked.

“I’m about to take a walk by the Han River.” Then, after a slight pause, Bomi offered, “Do you want me to wait for you so we can go together?”

Eunji was glad that Bomi wasn’t there to see her surprised face. These walks were almost sacred to Bomi; they were her way to get away from everything. An offer like this probably wouldn’t come again, so Eunji knew that she had to take it. 

“I’ll be there in about half an hour,” replied Eunji.

Once she hung up, she bade Chorong goodbye and began weaving her way through the mounds of gifts. She cursed her sprained ankle and awkward limp for making the simple task much harder than it should have been. When she reached the door and entered the clear space of the hall outside, she practically gave a sigh of relief.

Eunji smiled to the security guards posted outside of Chorong’s room, then limped her way down the long hall. It was noisier than usual; Chorong’s room was at the highest floor of the hospital and was normally quiet. Most of the time, Eunji rarely ran into other people. She’d hear the soft tapping of nurses’ and doctors’ footsteps, quiet beeping of machines, and carts being wheeled by more than she actually heard people’s voices.

But for some reason, today she heard an abnormal amount of conversation down the hall. Instead of the soft yet purposeful steps of nurses and doctors, she heard hurried and scattered footsteps. Maybe she was just imagining it, but she thought that she also heard the shutters of cameras.

She didn’t think much of it, though. It was probably just a large family visiting someone. 

Eunji pulled her mask higher onto her face and lowered her chin into her scarf as she quickened her steps.

It was only when she rounded the corner when she realized with sinking horror that she had not imagined the clicking of cameras.

She had walked straight into a group of reporters that filled the entire hallway with their cameras and crew. For a second, Eunji stood there like a deer caught frozen in headlights, staring at the group of unwanted strangers, who stared back at her with equally bewildered gazes.

Then reality snapped back into place, and the reporters sprung into action, bombarding Eunji with millions of questions. Everywhere she turned, a new flash from a camera blinded her and several mics were pushed into her face at once. They shoved at her, demanding answers that she couldn’t provide even if she wanted to.

“Eunji, what is your take on all of this?” one reporter cried.

“Do you believe Kim Junwoo deserves mercy?” another shouted.

“When do you think Chorong will wake up?” yelled another.

“I―” Eunji started, but another camera flash blinded her yet again, and she cringed away from it.

It was too much. The amount of reporters, the questions, the cameras―Eunji couldn’t take it. She felt tightening and her breaths becoming shallow. Her mind was a muddled, spinning mess, and the dizzying, flashing lights from the cameras definitely weren’t helping.

She tried backing away, but the insistent reporters continued to press forward, not allowing her to create the distance that she needed.

Help. She needed help. Where were the security guards?

Like her prayers had been answered, she heard a voice shout over the reporters, “This way!”

Frantically, Eunji whirled toward the direction of the voice. She saw an outstretched hand reaching through the crowd of reporters like a beacon of light shining through a dark pit of despair.

She couldn’t see the owner of the hand through the pushy bodies of reporters and blinding lights, but that didn’t matter to her. She just wanted to get out. 

So she reached for the hand, felt it grip her fingers tightly, and allowed it to pull her through the reporters.