It had rarely occurred to Ji Hyo that what she’d considered a ‘normal working schedule’ turned out to be not-so-normal after all, especially after having tasted a full six-day break from her backbreaking work. Of course she knew the routine so well, have understood the working of the world and have survived on very little, very sporadic sleep in between takes and a diet that consisted mostly of coffee, energy drinks and light meals since the start of her career years ago; it was expected of her—nothing new.

What she didn’t account for was the fact that her shoulder wasn’t fully healed yet. Working long hours in a job that needed physical fitness with a half-healed broken bone was, Ji Hyo decided, a gruesome experience. Her shoulder had been bothering her since filming Running Man. That was on Monday.

Now, on Wednesday, the dull throb had evolved into full-blown pain that made her eyes water every time she moved. She’d never wished harder for her job to be over—she was desperate for sleep; her medication prevented her from drinking any coffee or energy drinks, and to make it worse, the painkillers made her sleepy.

Ji Hyo had almost forgotten her name when the camera finally stopped rolling her final scene. She was genuinely tearful when thanking all the crew and fellow cast members for being so patient with her during the whole filming process. By the time she reached her car, Ji Hyo was almost delirious with pain and exhaustion. She only managed to stay awake long enough to pop a painkiller into and swallow it dry. She was fast asleep before her car left the parking lot.

***

“Unnie, wake up,” a voice called her out, shaking Ji Hyo’s body as they speak. “Unnie!”

Ji Hyo shifted in her bed, pulling the blanket to cover her whole face. “Leave me alone,” she mumbled without opening her eyes.

“Unnie, you’d better wake up now before Eomma comes in and wake you up herself.”

The mention of her mother was effective in waking Ji Hyo up. Her eyes snapped open in an instant. She sat up rubbing her eyes, glaring at her sister who was grinning triumphantly. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to wake up, that is.” Park Gwi Ja suddenly appeared at the door. “Get up now—let’s eat. I know you’re tired, but it’s not an excuse to sleep the whole time you’re in my house.” She left the room without waiting for her daughters, grumbling all the way to the kitchen about Ji Hyo’s work schedule and how the woman was ruining her health.

“What day is it?”

“You don’t know how long you’ve been sleeping?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I did, would I, Punk?”

Seong Min rolled her eyes but told her anyway. It was Thursday evening—Ji Hyo had slept more than 24 hours. Again. “At this rate, your heart will stop before you reach 60, Unnie.”

“Who says I want to reach sixty anyway?” Ji Hyo sassed. She got up and tied her hair in a messy bun, smacking her sister on the head affectionately as she walked past the younger woman. “Come on. Don’t let the queen wait.”

“I’m telling her you call her that!” Seong Min said, running past Ji Hyo to the dining room. “Eommaaa…”

Dinner was hearty and warm, as usual. Nobody said anything when they saw the food on the table—all of them were Ji Hyo’s favorite. It was how it always was whenever she came home. Ji Hyo ate with gusto, at the taste of her mother’s cooking.

“I can’t believe you eat like that and still look like that,” Seong Moon commented on Ji Hyo’s second bowl of rice.

“I work hard. I need the energy.”

“You’re not eating enough, Seong Im-ah,” Soo Kyung said, placing a cube of meat on her daughter’s bowl. “Eat more, eat more.”

“Noona’s eaten enough for three people,” the young man teased. But he, too, scooped another spoonful of sundubu jigae into Ji Hyo’s dish bowl.

Her family’s attention and love touched Ji Hyo’s heart; it’d been so long since she felt this contented… like she belonged somewhere. A sudden thought came into her mind. Maybe… maybe. She didn’t finish her thought. It was too much of wishful thinking.

***

Ji Hyo lay in bed motionlessly, staring at the ceiling in the darkened room. She was still drowsy, but sleep seemed to elude her. She couldn’t fall asleep; the gears in her brain kept on turning and thinking about the conversation she’d had with her father after dinner.

He’d asked her if she wanted to end her contract with CJES company, saying that he’d heard back from his lawyer (how he’d been able to do it behind her back completely baffled Ji Hyo) who’d told him that in terms of financial and other responsibilities, Ji Hyo had actually fulfilled her duty since last year even though the contract itself wouldn’t end until late October the next year. There would be some legal repercussions, that was for sure, but the lawyer could handle it easily. All she had to do was say yes.

…

“That way he won’t have so much hold over you,” Cheon Soo Kyung ended his plea.

“Not over my career, maybe he won’t,” Ji Hyo argued. “But we never know what he can do. You know he’s involved with mafias, Appa. I don’t want to make things worse.”

The older Cheon was quiet for some time. “The only thing that makes it worse is your own fear, Seong Im-ah—nothing else. You’re an adult now, and I can’t force you to do things you don’t want to do. Just think about it: how long are you going to live like this? Your fear fuels him; you take the fuel out, the fire dies.”

…

Then Ji Hyo remembered her father’s note; she’d completely forgotten that it was still in her jeans, unopened. Shoot! She shot up into sitting position and the desk lamp on her bedside table, ignoring the small protest from her sister who was asleep on the other side of the room, and immediately looked around. Where was it?

She couldn’t remember where she’d put it when she got changed at home—heck, she couldn’t even remember getting changed!

“Unnie, I have a class tomorrow!” Seong Min grumbled.

“Where did Eomma put my jeans?”

“How would I know?!” The youngest of the Cheon siblings turned away from Ji Hyo and pulled her blanket to her head.

“Yah, Cheon Seong Min! I’m serious! I’ve got something in the pocket!” Ji Hyo shook her sister awake.

“I don’t know! Check your drawers!” Seong Min hissed with her back facing Ji Hyo. “Unnie, seriously, I like you better when you’re sleeping!”

Ji Hyo ignored the jibe and quickly opened her desk drawer. She sighed in relief when the first thing she saw was the envelope her father had left her. She picked it up and was about to close the drawer when her eyes caught on something. Another small note—the one with only her name on it, one which Jong Kook had left her with the coffee. Ji Hyo felt her cheeks warmed, and she closed the drawer hastily, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed for reacting so weirdly.

She sat back on her bed, cross-legged, and carefully opened the envelope and took out a small piece of paper. There were only two sentences written there, a proverb and his personal message—her father was never a man of many words:

하늘이 무너져도 솟아날 구멍이 있다. (Even if the sky collapses, there’s a hole to escape out of)

‘Even if there’s no hole, I will make one for you, Cheon Seong Im.’

Tears sprang into Ji Hyo’s eyes; her heart was bursting with all the love she felt for her father, the man who’d been there for her throughout all the thick-and-thin in her life. Cheon Soo Kyung was not a man of many words; he was a man of action. And within a few words only he’d reminded his daughter to stay strong and to believe in ways out. He’d reminded Ji Hyo to have courage, to understand that she was never alone in this. She had him. She had her whole family.

Silently, Ji Hyo folded the note and put it back inside the envelope. She pressed it to her chest. Have courage, Ji Hyo whispered to herself. There’s always a way out. Her earlier conversation with her father replayed again in her head—all she needed was to say ‘yes’ and her father’s lawyer would take care of everything.

But that wasn’t what Ji Hyo wanted. Have courage. She stood up and opened the drawer to put the note back inside. Again, she saw the post-it note from Jong Kook. She stopped and stared at it, subconsciously reaching for the note to caress the writing. Have courage.

Ji Hyo closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. Warmth seeped from her head to her fingertips as she exhaled. Have courage. She’d made a decision. She’d fight back. She—Song Ji Hyo would fight back, not her father’s lawyer. Have courage, Cheon Seong Im.

She took a last look at Jong Kook’s handwriting. I’ll make that hole for you, Jong Kook Oppa, she promised before closing the drawer, even if I have to claw it out with my bare hands—just you wait and see.

That night, Ji Hyo slept with a smile on her face.

A/N: Posting again. The delay doesn't mean I've stopped writing (yet), it's just that my left eye has been giving me trouble so the doc tells me to limit my screentime, which means I've been writing my story draft in my notebook and have to retype everything before I post. Small advice to you young people: don't stare at your screen too long--it'll damage your nerves.