Ji Hyo managed to keep a straight face when Jong Kook made a beeline for her, knowing full well that all eyes were on them; no, on her—they had to want to gauge her reaction. She stepped away as he stood next to her, creating a physical distance between them that perhaps had never been present before. She didn’t even spare him a glance, making a point by focusing on the PD who was giving them instructions about the game.

Great, Ji Hyo groaned in her head when the PD explained that they would be driving around (and outside) the city for clues. It meant that she’d have to spend the whole day trapped in a car—in the same car as Kim Jong Kook. Brilliant.

Everyone raced for their cars once the PD had stopped talking and given them the car keys and maps. Ji Hyo walked quickly to the car park, not waiting for her partner. From her peripheral she saw the older man jog towards her direction trying to catch up with her.

“Don’t talk to me,” she hissed the moment Jong Kook was close enough. Her voice was barely a whisper and although she was wearing a bright smile, her tone was cold and full of malice. If somebody caught her face on the camera without catching the words she was saying, it would look as if she was merely commenting on the weather. Ignoring the tightening of Jong Kook’s jaw, she turned to both their VJs wearing a saccharine smile. “This better not be filmed,” she warned with the same smile still plastered on her face.

The two men exchanged an awkward glance before Jong Kook’s VJ mumbled something about having to catch their own ride with the others. Ji Hyo’s VJ was hot on his heels, scurrying away so that he wouldn’t be left alone with the ex-couple.

“We are a team—it’s impossible not to talk,” Jong Kook pointed out once the VJs were out of earshot.

Ji Hyo said nothing, pressing her lips into a thin line and walked away from Jong Kook, who followed suit.

“We need to talk if we want to win,” he tried again.

She threw him a glare and yanked the car door open. “Who said I wanted to win?” she challenged before plopping down on the front passenger seat and slammed the door. She was just buckling up when Jong Kook sat down on the seat next to her, behind the wheel. “And for the record, Kim Jong Kook-ssi, there is no ‘we’.”

Jong Kook turned to face the woman beside him and at the sight of her, all the words that were on the tip of his tongue died. Ji Hyo was sitting with her back straight and eyes trained forward, not sparing him a glance; her arms were folded defensively across her chest. He realized that there was nothing he could say—there was no right answer. Ji Hyo would be ticked off no matter what he said. He knew she was upset. Above all, Jong Kook knew that she was trying to make him angry, too. Oh, no, lady, I’m not playing this game, he thought as he made a conscious decision not to be baited into making a scene. They’d done enough damage to each other to last more than a lifetime. And enough was enough. No more. He the car ignition and drove away.

***

A heavy silence filled the car; the air inside was so thick and suffocating a knife could cut it. Jong Kook couldn’t remember the last time there was this much tension and awkwardness between himself and Ji Hyo. Then he wondered—before all this, had there ever been such a time? He threw a fleeting glance at Ji Hyo. She seemed to be deeply engrossed with her phone, but Jong Kook could see that she was doing nothing but scroll back and forth between the pages on her home screen. He contemplated saying something… but would it be a good idea when Ji Hyo was so determined on playing mute? Well, he’d risk it.

“We won’t get airtime if we don’t talk, you know?” He cringed at the sound of his own voice; it felt so loud after the long silence.

Ji Hyo didn’t even flinch. “Good.”

“Ji Hyo-yah…”

“I’ll just sleep if you’re so desperate for screen time,” she sneered.

“That’s not what I…” he stopped mid-sentence, frustrated. Ji Hyo had already curled up in her seat, facing away from him. Jong Kook sighed; a part of him wanted to yell at Ji Hyo grow up and be professional—wasn’t she supposed to be the actress? Why couldn’t she just act normal as if there was nothing between them?

But then the sight of Ji Hyo’s slumped shoulders and the way she made herself as small as possible was enough to stop him from doing so. Worry began to gnaw at his spine. Should he say something else? Should he ask how she had been? Before he could decide, though, Ji Hyo had spoken again.

“I’ll do whatever you want on the set later,” she began, “Give me some peace now. They won’t air us anyway—guests are a lot more interesting than a couple of exes.”

Jong Kook caught the slight crack in Ji Hyo’s voice as she spoke the last sentence. Guilt surged up to his throat, constricting it. The muscular man gripped the steering wheel even tighter, swallowing the invisible lump in his throat. “Okay,” he croaked. He tried turning his focus back on the road as they were entering the highway.

Yet, he couldn’t concentrate. His mind kept wandering to thoughts about how everything got so messed up between them. They had promised to just go back into being friends, into the way they had been before—no awkward after-breakup thing. That promise had gone out straight out of the window thanks to him. It was all his fault. He should’ve known better and kept his stupid mouth.

…

“Did Song Song Ji Hyo-ssi cheat on Baek Chang Joo-ssi?”

“Was Baek Chang Joo-ssi aware that you two were dating behind his back?”

“Why did you hide the fact that you were dating?”

“When did you start going out?”

“Why didn’t you make an announcement when you started going out?”

“Was this only a way to promote your new projects?”

“Did Song Ji Hyo-ssi cheat on you, Kim Jong Kook-ssi?”

“Kim Jong Kook-ssi, did you cheat on her?”

“Are we going to see her dating someone else soon? Or are we going to see you dating someone else?”

“Was the accident you had in the film set the reason you broke up?”

Jong Kook regretted going out that afternoon; he never thought that the media would wait for him outside his apartment building. To be honest, he didn’t even think that Ji Hyo would actually make an announcement about their breakup—they hadn’t even made an official announcement that they had been going out anyway, so there hadn’t been a need to announce their breaking up. Apparently, he was wrong.

The barrage of questions was almost driving him crazy: he had been warned not to say a word about the matter by his manager, but it was easier said than done. However, even if he wanted to answer, he didn’t know which question he should give a response to. He walked briskly behind his manager who kept saying “no comment” while trying to make way for Jong Kook to reach their car, which seemed to be parked so far away from where they were.

Yes, he wasn’t supposed to give any answer; he was supposed to keep his head down and walk without saying a word, was supposed to let his manager handle the press. And he almost succeeded, if it weren’t for that stupid reporter commenting about Ji Hyo being easy.

He lifted his head, and, looking straight at the reporter with a murderous glare, he said, “Her breaking up with me doesn’t give you the right to degrade her with your words.”

“So you were saying that this was her decision?” It was another reporter speaking.

Jong Kook didn’t know what came over him. “Yes.”

“You meant you didn’t have a say in this?”

“I would have decided otherwise,” he admitted, creating even more shouted questions.

“Jong Kook-ah!” Gap Jin looked thoroughly horrified, and Jong Kook realized what he had just done—he practically put all the blame on Ji Hyo.

Oh, he thought, I am so ed.

…

HOOOONK!!!!

Jong Kook blinked in time to see a roadblock just a few inches away from their car. He acted purely on instinct—adrenaline rushed into his system so quickly that he’d swung the steering wheel to the right and floored the brake before he even knew what he was doing. The car skidded sideways with a dangerous screech and hit the curb. It jolted forward and stopped before it hit another curb; the engine died instantly.

He was white as a sheet, clutching the steering wheel in a death grip motionlessly as he breathed erratically. He could hear his blood rushing into his brain and his own heart beating wildly against his ribcage. It was so close. So damn close.

“What the hell?! Are you out of your mind?!”

A shrill voice pierced through his clouded mind, bringing him back to the present. For a split second, he couldn’t remember whose voice it was. Then it all came back. Ji Hyo! Jong Kook quickly turned to the passenger seat. Ji Hyo was clutching her chest, her face contorted in pain. Jong Kook paled. “!” he cursed, scrambling to find the buckle of his seatbelt so he could move more freely. “Ji Hyo—Ji Hyo-yah! Are you hurt? I’m so very sorry!”

Ji Hyo gritted her teeth, unable to answer just yet. Her head was pounding—her shoulder was throbbing, and it hurt like hell even to breathe. She kept her eyes closed as Jong Kook softly unbuckled her seatbelt; the movement made her nauseous.

“Ji Hyo?” he asked again, softly, “Ji Hyo, what hurts? Tell me, please, tell Oppa what hurts.”

The worry in Jong Kook’s voice was so palpable it touched her. A drop of tear fell from her eyes and Ji Hyo didn’t know if it was because of the throbbing pain on her side or because of Jong Kook’s voice.

***

She got hairline fractures on her left shoulder. Just my luck, she thought as she sat on the cold metal slab in the emergency room, wrapped tightly in bandages. Then she remembered that everything could have turned out so much worse and corrected herself, no, I am indeed lucky.

They were lucky that the road was quite empty, lucky that Jong Kook swerved to the right instead of to the left or they could have gone off the railings, lucky that the PDs’ car was still behind them so they didn’t have to wait for an ambulance and the police—the PDs would take care of the latter. They were lucky Jong Kook only sprained his wrist for trying to handle the car as it swerved. They were lucky to be alive. And Ji Hyo was thankful that the accident wasn’t fatal.

Accident… was it really one?

Ji Hyo frowned. Now that everything had calmed down, the gears in her brain began to work again. It was too coincidental—out of all cars and theirs had to be the one involved in an accident. Just like the lamp had to accidentally fall at that particular time. Ji Hyo’s eyes widened as her brain made a connection. A chill crept into her spine and she shivered. She balled her fists. Song Ji Hyo, you stupid, stupid woman.

This was no accident.

A/n: Yeah, I know, It's been four solid years. I have no excuse and not going to make one.