Dara

“Owww.” I sat up and rolled my head around. My neck cracked several times and the sound echoed through the once noisy apartment. I blinked several times to try and clear my head and looked around. Jiyong was half lying on the couch, my head had been resting on his chest and one of his arms was still around my waist. It slipped down so his palm was resting on my thigh and he began to wake. I moved my legs from where they had been lying, across Seungri’s lap and shifted Jiyong’s hand from my leg.

I stood up and headed towards the kitchen, praying to the good lord that Seungri had a coffee machine hidden away somewhere in this massive apartment. I opened a cupboard and out tumbled half a dozen pots and pans. They hit the ground with a massive clash that could’ve woken the dead. Within the same second both Jiyong and Seungri were upright, guns pointing outwards, back to back and eyes searching. The looks on their faces were blank and unmoving, reminding me just how dangerous this world was.

“I opened a cupboard and some pots fell out. Sorry for waking you.” I tried to make my voice calm and steady, aiming not to reveal the fear I felt. Men replace the boys I sat next to last night, complained about football with and fell asleep on this morning, men who can never stop being on guard.

“Ok.” Seungri clicked the safety back on the weapon he had been holding and slipped it under the couch. Seeing the look on my face he reassured me. “In case of emergencies, one must always be prepared.” He clapped Jiyong on the back as he lowered and checked his gun.

“You can never be too careful in a business like ours.” Jiyong clipped the gun into a holster on the bottom of the coffee table. “Not that anyone would make into the apartment anyhow.”

“Huh?” I looked around, trying to find the evidence of security cameras, big bad dogs or bodyguards.

“The girls, with rooms outside,” Seungri gestured towards the door to the apartment. “Are well trained in both hand-to-hand combat and most types of weaponry. Several are ex-military, who would protect Emily and me with their lives. We run a dangerous business. They are trusted members of my ‘family’ and most of them play mother to Emily at some point or another. Good morning Sulli.” I turned to see a girl, aged 20 or so with a big, beaming smile and brown hair. She was also carrying a squirming Emily.

“Morning Seungri, Jiyong.” She nodded at me then headed towards the door. “I’m taking Emily to playgroup, see you later.” Disappearing through the door with a wave, she headed towards a second staircase to head out of sight.

“What is this place?” I sunk down, back to the fridge till I was sitting on the floor. My splitting headache was reminding me that firstly I shouldn’t have had that third cruiser and secondly I hadn’t had my morning coffee. The question I was really asking was ‘what have I gotten myself into?’

Jiyong, bare feet making no sound on the cold tile floor, walked past me and lifted a small breadbin door to reveal a coffee machine. “Welcome to our world.”

“Bacon and eggs, cereal or,” Seungri nudged me out of the way to open the fridge. “ahh, leftover vegetarian frittata.”

“No real man has leftover vegetarian frittata in his fridge.” Jiyong had the coffee machine and the delightful smell of freshly ground coffee filled the kitchen. “I’m gonna have a shower. Definitely the bacon, and scrambled eggs.”

Jiyong padded out of the kitchen and I followed him down the hall towards ‘my room’.

“Stop freaking out.” Jiyong had stopped and was watching my hands shake.

“Maybe I was wrong, thinking I could do this.” I rarely voice my fears to many people.

“It’s a bit hard to get used to, living life like it’s fine when you know that any day someone could burst into your house and shoot you down. Why do you think Seunghyun left? Not because of Bom, not because of what happened to me or to Chaerin. He left because, deep down, he’s really a good person and good people don’t last long in this business.”

“You’re a good person.”

“No, actually I’m not. I play happy on the outside and act like I’m a bit of a joker and I treat people well but I’m not. I’ll never be, not after Chaerin. I killed her, you know. Not literally, I wasn’t the one that stabbed her in the heart but I brought her there. I took her into this business and once you’re in, not many get out. So no, I actually don’t want you here. I play it cool for your brother, like he’s the one who doesn’t want you here but I don’t want you do see this.” Jiyong showed me his hands, covered in old scars and the one silver ring he wears. “Do you know how many people I’ve hurt with these hands? Do you know how many times I’ve had to wash blood off them? Do you know how many times I’ve had to scrub the blood off this ring?” He runs his hands through his hair. “Too many Dara. Too many.”

I reach out a hand to offer support but Jiyong bats it away.

“I don’t need sympathy Dara. Don’t fool yourself into believing I’m normal or that I will ever live a normal life. I know I’ll probably die in this job and as long as I manage to keep you and Seunghyun safe, I’m ok with that. If I die keeping some bastard off the street then I’m ok with that.” He walks into his room and closes the door behind him.

I drop the hand I offered for comfort and head into ‘my room’, tears streaming down my cheeks.

Getting out of my steaming shower, smelling like roses and gardenia (Seungri has very good taste when it comes to woman’s body-wash), I wrap myself in a towel and realize that I actually have no clothing. I didn’t bring any spare clothes with me and the only ones I have are the stuff I wore yesterday, both not my taste and gross because I slept in them. Walking into the bedroom, still wrapped in my lush towel I open drawer after drawer, shocked to find quite a bit of clothing there, all of it pretty new. Seungri said this could be my room, so whose clothing is this?

I grab an assortment of clothes and try them on, fitting everything but the bras (I’d rather wear mine anyway) and the shirts, all of which are a little bit tight around the bust and shoulders. I chuck on a pair of light coloured jeans with a cute belt and quietly open the door to the ‘meeting room’ between my room and Jiyong’s. Hearing the sounds of a shower in Jiyong’s room and his voice resounding around the bathroom (he has a thing for singing in the shower), I figure I can borrow a shirt and sneak back out without him ever seeing me. As I riffle through his drawers attempting to find a shirt, I don’t notice the shower being turned off and the bathroom door opening.

“Well this is a surprise. Hi there, half Dara. I would ask what exactly you are doing in my room but I have a pretty good idea.” Jiyong’s voice shocks me and I flip around, forgetting that I, as previously mentioned, only in a bra and jeans.

“Where do you keep your shirts?!”

Jiyong shuffles across the room, wearing only a towel. He opens the hidden closet and flips through several hangers before pulling a shirt out and tossing it to me.

“Classy Ji, classy.” The shirt says ‘Looking is free, but touching is gonna cost you.’

“What can I say? I’m a classy sort of bloke. Now get out, I need to get dressed.” He flicks his hand towards the open door that adjoins the meeting room. I slip the shirt over my head and it is a little big, but apart from that it is perfect, plus it smells like Jiyong, a combination of dry grass, gunpowder and citrus. As I walk out into the hallway I sniff the intoxicating scent, reminding me of ageless summers spent on my uncles farm, outside of the city. Jiyong, Seunghyun, Chaerin, Bom and Jiyong’s sister and I spent days down by the creek, adventuring in the forest and camping outside in the humid air.

Back in the kitchen, the heady scent of coffees overwhelms my senses and I gravitate to the counter table, a black marble affair, with bar stools and plates of steaming bacon and eggs. Seungri has managed to make all this and still have a shower, probably while Jiyong and I were arguing in the hallway.

Sitting down, I chow into the food and coffee, just sitting for a few moments with my eyes closed as I hold the warm mug and inhale it’s delicious scent.

“Classy shirt Dara.” Seungri enters the kitchen, fresh from the shower by the look of the towel he’s scrubbing his wet hair with. “Jiyong’s? He has brilliant taste, as you can no doubt understand.”

“Yeah, there was some clothes in the room, I hope you don’t mind. My shoulders are a little too wide for the shirts in there.” The bacon has gorgeous flavour, salty and with the extra crunch I love.

“You do look a little bigger than her across the shoulders and chest, but I figured everything else would fit you fine.” Seungri sits down on my left and begins to butter his toast. Answering my unspoken question, he sighed. “Lilly’s clothes, Emily’s mother.”’

“Jeez, Seungri, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He places his hand on my arm.

“It’s fine.” His face blanches sniffs the air, then leans closer and buries his face in the edge of my hair. I have no idea what is happening until he leans back, “You used the body wash.”

“Yes.” I cautiously say.

“I go and stand in that bathroom some times, cause I never took her stuff out. Everything still smells like she did, roses and gardenia and me. I didn’t notice it till she left, but she had borrowed a can of my deodorant and used to wear it. So part of her still smelt like me, always. She took it with her when she left and she was wearing it when I saw her body. God it made me cry.”

Seeing my eyes start to blur with tears, he stopped suddenly.

“Sorry to start that. I seem to have made you sad.” He grabbed a tissue from a box and passed it to me.

“That’s why you’re such good friends with Ji.” I wipe my eyes and concentrate on my breakfast. “Cause he gets it. He knows what it’s like to lose someone.  I found him once, about a month after and he had some of the clothes she’d left at our place. He did the same thing, just sat there and smelled them. They’re still in his closet somewhere.”

“Glad to know I’m not the only one, I guess.” He smiles sadly and finishes his coffee.

Jiyong joins us, and we chat about meaningless things, like football, politics and the weather. I still can’t get Seungri’s words out of my head though, ‘God it made me cry.’  I wonder if either of these boys, one I’ve lived with for so long, treat like a brother and one I’ve just meet, but I feel like I’ve known forever will ever heal from what they have lost.

“Dara, we should probably get home. Seunghyun will think you’re lying in an alley dead somewhere.” Jiyong fluffs my hair and nods at Seungri, “Be seeing you sometime Seungri.”

“Same to both of you, though hopefully under circumstances with no blood to destroy my carpet, again. I’d doubt it though.” How can they joke like this, with one friend recently put to rest and the rest of us, barring Jiyong, who I personally think never left it, in harms way for the first time in a while. “The key is in your left front pocket Dara.”

I reach into the pocket, and sure enough, there is a silverly door key, with a pink ‘D’ key chain.

“How?” I hold up the key and look at Seungri; he smiles and wiggles his fingers.

“Magic hands.”