"I can't wear that!" I squeaked, looking down at the "costume" I'd been told to wear for the beach scene that day. "I'll fall out! How awful would that be?!"

"That would be awesome," Cezar commented, and I smacked him in the arm. He was already changed, looking amazing as usual in a pair of swimming trunks. 

"But, Señorita Queen Be, the scene is to make you seem attractive and powerful for the boys..." the staff member attempted to say. 

"I can't wear bikinis, okay? It's a disaster waiting to happen. Maybe for girls with smaller chests it's okay, but I will seriously fall right out. The last thing I need is for pictures of that to go public."

 Apparently word had gotten around the movie industry that I was hard to work with because I was too picky about what I would wear or do. I was gaining quite a reputation in a not-so-good way. I didn't like it. But I was an actress, not a star. Wasn't the whole idea to be a tease, always just out of reach? I didn't think that refusing to wear revealing clothing would be such a problem.

"Wait! WAIT!" Lela shouted in Korean, huffing and puffing to reach us on the beach. In her hand she held a hanger attached to a garment bag. "They told me about today's filming ahead of time, and Queen Be's clothing sponsor gave us a different option. We were saving this for her photoshoot tomorrow, but I think it'll be okay."

I had to translate her Korean/English for the crew, who agreed as soon as they saw the bathing suit. Before I knew it, I was coming out of the changing room in a truly amazing black bathing suit. The back piece was made like a halter top, with the black fabric crossing over the chest, then wrapping around and twisting together at the bottom, tied to a gold ring that hooked onto the bottom. It was elegant, and y at the same time. I felt totally hot.

When I came out, Cezar whistled. "Wow, it'll be easy to get into character today!"

I flicked my hair and winked at him. "Sorry, honey. No chance."

"Why not?!"

"Alright, alright, everyone get ready! We'll start in five minutes!" the director called, and Cezar frowned and walked down towards the beach. Lela looked at me in the bathing suit, arranging the ruffled and spritzing my hair with some special hairspray to give it more volume. And then she stopped, looking down at me.

"Queen Be, what happened to your SKIN?!"

I looked down at my arms. Nothing seemed wrong. "What's wrong with my skin?"

"You're brown!"

I laughed, nudging her away. "It's a tan, Lela-eonni. It happens when melatonin in the skin reacts with ultraviolet rays in light, to help prevent our skin from burning and getting damaged.

She grimaced. "But you used to have such nice white skin..."

"Oh shush. Besides, I didn't even tan that much."

She frowned. "Don't you dare get darker. What am I supposed to do if we go back to Korea and try to pass you off as beautiful if your nice pale skin is gone?"

I laughed. "Thanks, Lela-eonni. Appreciate it."

I held the magazine in my hands, looking down at the front cover. People magazine, with a picture of me in my black bathing suit, posing for the camera. The caption read "Queen Be is turning up the temperature in Chile, South America". Apparently people were starting to view me as hot. Of course, you couldn't see how short I was in the picture. That was one beauty of photographs. 

The drama was extremely popular, though. Lots of people were interested in it. And my character wasn't even the heart of the storyline. But people in the US liked to hear about my success there. Even though I'd be going back to Korea, anyway, people thought of Chile as being practically home. 

We'd be finishing filming soon, though. A hot episode at the beach would turn into the cold, desperate episode we'd filmed near Cape Horn. And then it would all be over. And I could go home. I mean, go back to Korea.

"Qué va a hacer conmigo?" I glared up at my captor through blonde-and-black bangs in my eyes, and a swollen bottom lip. My hands were bound behind me, around a pipe leading up to the ceiling. 

"Estás cautiva. Ten cuidado."

Yes, I already knew that I was being held captive. What I wanted to know was why. "Qué quieres? Dinero? Mi cuerpo?" I said "my body" with a mixture of terror and hatred, retreating back against the post.

He laughed. "Tu cuerpo? Dinero?" He crouched down, looking me in the eyes. "No. No los quiero." His eyes traveled down, and every part of me strained to escape that gaze, that made my skin crawl. "Pero posiblemente puedo tomarlo también." No. No, that was not an invitation. If it is not what you took me for, then do not take it.

He stood up, walking to the other corner of the room. It was freezing. He wore a coat, and all I had was my black party dress, which had been fine when we were in Santiago.

"No, no quiero nada de esas cosas. Yo quiero poder."

Power?

"No tengo nada poder," I answered immediately. It was true. I didn't have any power. My parents were businesspeople, not politicians.

"Sabes qué hace tu papá?" 

What did he mean, "do I know what my father does?" Of course I knew. "Por supuesto."

 "No. Creo que no sepa qué él hace. Mira, tu papa tiene mucho dinero de muchas países. Porque de él, hay demasiados personas que no tienen nada. Le roba."

He was lying. My father never stole from anyone. He was an honest businessman. His company did well. So what? "Eres incorrecto."

He laughed. "Soy totalmente correcto. Tu padre miento por todo su vida. Especialmente a tí. Por qué pienses que estás en Chile? Para tu protección. Necesitas protección para ser segura de yo y mis amigos en China."

No. No, he was wrong. I was sent to Chile because I was being a brat. That was why. That was always why. Why would I need protection? What had my father done in China?

Suddenly, I remembered all of those times I'd been left in Japan while my parents took sudden trips to China. I remembered times when my father would tell me to lock the door and not open it for anyone. When he'd see someone and automatically tell me to look the other way.

My captor crouched down, looking me in the eye, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of my shoulder. "Tienes más poder que realizas. Y ahora, tu poder es mío."

I struggled against the ropes, trying to get away. I kicked out, hitting him in the gut and sending him backwards. He got to his feet, doubled over and grimacing at me. I knew that look. I needed to something, and fast. He was right. I had money. Money was power. That was what my father had always said. My father wasn't here. He couldn't save me.

He smacked me across my face, sending stars into my vision, and then he leaned forward, sitting down over my legs. I was pinned. He leaned over and whispered into my ear, in English, grating against my eardrums. "This will be fun. If I destroy you, I destroy your father."

I screamed, doing everything I could to get away. He was playing with the halter top of my little black dress. His weight pressed against me.

Movement flashed across my vision, and I snapped my head forward, ramming my forehead into his skull. He fell backwards, and I kicked him away. Behind me, I felt hands working at the cords binding my wrists. "María, Díos mío. Estás segura. Estoy aquí."

The ropes fell away while my captor stood up, holding his head in his hands. I grabbed Stefan's hand and bolted, out into the cold southern Chilean air. We kept running. And then I fell, and he pulled me to my feet. Finally, we were in the back of our friends' car, speeding away. 

He held my face in his hands, crying. "Dios Mío," he kept saying. And then finally he kissed me, desperate and fierce.

"FANTASTICO!" the director shouted, and all of the people in the viewing room clapped. Emilia squeezed my shoulder and smiled. I looked down at my feet, embarrassed. The whole episode was so dramatic, it had been awful. I looked away from the screen, at Cezar. When he'd "come to rescue me" in filming, he'd looked honestly panicked. He was a good guy. Really. I hoped he found a really great girl. 

"Once this is aired, there is only the one episode left. And then Queen Be leaves us to go back to Korea!" 

There was a general chord of complaint, and then the group broke up. Cezar, Emilia, and the actual main male lead of the drama, Marco Del Rey, stayed behind. 

"What are you going to do when you go back to Korea, Sofía?" Cezar asked, leaning over my chair.

"Work on music, probably. I haven't written anything in a while. Oh, and I have a charity concert already scheduled. And I'd be preparing for SMTown. Not to mention the offers I'm getting from dramas. I'm always busy."

"You're very popular, aren't you?" Emilia remarked.

I rubbed my eyes with my fingers. "I guess so. But mostly in Asia. Some success in the US, but not great."

Marco raised an eyebrow. "You're popular here."

"Oh, well, Chile too, I guess. But that's just because of the Kpop fans here."

"No, I think after the photo session you did last month, you're popular with a lot of the boys in Chile," Emilia remarked, winking.

I shook my head. "Not interested."

Cezar frowned, whining, "why not?! We're supposed to be partners!"

"I was a romantic partner for a job with someone once. He almost me."

I'd said it so matter-of-factly that it took a few seconds for them to start gaping at me.

"You're not serious, are you?" Cezar whimpered.

I shrugged. "I did say 'almost'. I punched him in the chest and sent him to the hospital."

Cezar blanched and backed away. "Sorry I asked."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry about it."

"Still, do you have someone waiting for you in Korea?" Emilia asked, leaning over my chair and raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't."

"Ha! She's blushing! She does! SHE DOES!"

Emilia nudged Marco, and he just shrugged. "Come on, Emilia. We have a press conference to get ready for."

"Oh, but..."

She hesitated, but Marco pulled her away, leaving just me and Cezar.

"Look-" we both said at the same time, so both laughed.

"Look, Cezar," I tried again, "you're a nice guy. But all of my relationships save one are purely professional. I like working with you. Really, I do. But that's it. There has to be a line between real life and the drama. After all, I'm not actually rich."

He laughed, looking down at his hands. "I know."

"And there are a lot of things you don't know about me. I have crazy obsessions, and dark humor, and a somewhat grim past. There was one time I didn't shut those feelings down completely, and things went bad. I don't want that to happen again."

He smiled and nodded. "Thanks. I understand, Sofía. You're a very good actress, you know? And it's fun to work with you."

I nodded. "I'm glad we came to an agreement. Now come on. I think I want some churros."

I sat on the hilltop, overlooking the mountain valley below, the air blowing through my hair. Stefan sat next to me, and I felt my heart beat faster. I swallowed, looking away.

"¿Estás bien?" he asked, "después de... todo que ocurrió."

I shrugged, pretending to answer his question nonchalantly, as if I were saying, "yeah, sure. I'm fine, after all that happened." But then I gave him the real answer. "No. Nada va a ser bien nada más. Stefan... necesito salir." Nothing is going to be okay ever again. I need to leave.

He froze, looking at me in horror. "¿Necesitas... salir? ¿Por qué?"

You know why. "Cuando yo estaba cautiva, realicé que tengo mucho poder. Mi dinero... es importante. Con todos, puedo ayudar a muchas personas. Puedo hacer diferencias. Puedo hacer cosas para todo el mundo. Tengo este poder."

I had power. Money was power, and I could use it to help people, instead of wasting it on myself. I could do something important. 

"Adonde irás?"

I shrugged. "Donde que nunca he visto. Posiblemente... Roma. Italia. O Africa." Where was I going? Somewhere I'd never been before. Maybe Rome. Or Africa. 

"Vas a regresar?"

I shook my head. No. I would never be returning to Chile. Too many bad memories. "No. Nunca podría regresar aquí." 

"No puedes quedar conmigo?" he asked, sounding desperate.

"No. Mi vida es ahí." I swallowed, unable to look at him, remembering the way he'd kissed me in the back of the car. "Pero... puedes visitarme. O... puedes venir conmigo."

He looked up in shock, and I finally looked at him, knowing full well the weight of my words, inviting him to come with me.

"Ven conmigo," I said again. "A todo el mundo."

He paused, then shook his head. "No puedo."

Tears were rising in my eyelids, and I blinked them back and stood up. I knew that would be his answer. For all of the world, Stefan valued his home and his family more than anything else.

I nodded. "Adios, Stefan. Espero que tengas una buena vida. Vas a hacer algo grande para Chile. Yo sé."

He stood up again, wrapping his arms around my stomach, and kissed me one last time before he let go. And then I left, walking towards the plane that would take me away to the world I now had open eyes for. That I had the power to change.

"My god, I could cry," remarked Jung Ah, mockingly wiping her tears with a handkerchief. "How is your boyfriend going to feel about all of those kisses? You seemed to be quite into it."

I glared at her, and she shrunk away. "It was scripted. I have to be able to do my job."

She made pucker lips at me, and I threatened to slap her, so she laughed. I turned off the TV while the commercials played at the end of the very last episode of Por Poco Tiempo, or For a Little While. It had finally aired. My character had grown increasingly important as the show had gone on, until the end, where her largely comical role, popping up at random times and funding really strange trips, and accidentally saying stuff in different languages, turned into a kidnapping by an Asian organization bent on getting revenge on her father, using her. And then her love interest had ended with a bittersweet goodbye. Powerful, really.

The show wasn't actually about María and Stefan, though. It was actually about Ramón and Claudia, who'd grown up as best friends before Ramón had moved away, and then repeatedly met each other throughout the years, always only spending a few weeks together before separating again, until the show, when they meet each other at the airport, going two different directions, and then a big earthquake grounds both of their planes, keeping them together. So then they stay together for the show, ending up finally a permanent item. More of a happy ending than María and Stefan got, but... I liked my ending better.

"Are you ready to go back?" Jung Ah asked me, going back to her serious mode.

I looked down at my half-full suitcase, already prepared to leave. I'd crammed all of the drawings into a box, emptying the walls. I was so ready to go back, I could have left any moment. But we technically still had a few days left. I just wanted to go home. I mean, back to Korea.

"I was ready to leave a few weeks after I got here. It was like a vacation for a while, but it got lonely really quickly."

She shrugged. "You seemed to handle it well enough. Better than I expected, actually."

"What do you mean?" 

"Oh, I don't know. I thought you'd do everything you could to get away. To go back. But you didn't. You stayed through the whole process, still respecting the film crew, even though you didn't even want to be here. I guess I expected worse of you."

"I didn't think that not wanting to be there gave me the right to destroy their drama. I have to set a good example. As long as I do the best I can, I'll keep a good record. And that means I'll still be succeeding. It's my job. Movies and music can connect the whole world. And I can do that. At least, I can try. It's my goal."

Jung Ah nodded, then crouched down next to the suitcase and pulled out my notebook, flipping through the pages. "One thing that's strange, though... you haven't written a single thing."

 I took the notebook from her and put it back in the suitcase, frowning. "I just haven't been inspired lately," I replied, not quite believing the words myself.

"I hope so. I hope I don't bring you back to Korea a completely different girl."

I laughed. "According to Lela, I'm already far too tanned to be a Korean beauty anymore."

Jung Ah laughed. "She's right. You've gotten too much sun. We should lock you inside for a while."

I made a face. "AFTER we get back to Korea. I'm not delaying the plane ride back any more than I have to."

The crowd I had had to push through to get to my flight in Chile was nothing like the one that awaited me in the Incheon International Airport. It was like I was a returning hero. It was agonizing, forcing the smile onto my face, the first time I had to force myself to smile for my fans. He said he'd be there. He said he would be. He promised. 

It took every bit of control I had not to force people out of the way, every bit of kindness I had to be gentle. After all, these people came just to see me. Still, I needed to get away. Away from work. Away from cameras and watching eyes. If only por poco tiempo.

I stepped out of the airport and into the sunlight, and there he was, just as tall and wonderful and perfect as he had been when I'd left. But it seemed like years ago. Were we... still the same? Had things changed over the course of six months?

"So, how was Chile?" he asked.

"Refreshing." I'd been dying to see Zhou Mi's face, to touch his smooth skin, to fall into his arms for so long, but now that the moment was there, the space between us seemed endless.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

Tentatively, I took a step forward, saying, "yeah. Chile was a really nice country. Beautiful. But I... I missed my home." Something inside of me, something I'd been holding together for months, was crumbling. As I stepped towards him, my heart seemed to be expanding, falling apart.

"But while I was there, I realized... I don't know where home is anymore." I looked up, meeting his gaze for the first time. "I spent so much time in Chile, desperately wanting to return home... but I don't know if my home is America... or Korea."

Zhou Mi stepped forward. "Niuwang, you..."

"I'm American. My hair, my face, God, I'm such a MUTT, I couldn't be anything but American! And I'm proud of my country in ways. I am. But after spending so much time away from it, in Chile, too, sometimes I'm embarrassed to be American. And... I speak five languages! I'm an actress, singer, and songwriter for a South Korean entertainment company! I was an actress in a popular Chilean TV show! And... the man I fell for is totally Chinese." I put my fist to my chest, as if that would slow my heart's crumbling. "My heart is pulled to the four corners of the globe, and I can't tell if my home is here, in Korea, or in America, where I was born. If I say it's here, does that make me a traitor to my country?"

My knees gave way, and I saw the ground rising to meet me when suddenly he was there, catching me, just like he always did. As if I'd never left.

He held me close, his long fingers in my hair, as I felt the tears rise out of my heart, up my throat, and into my eyes. He still loved me. He never stopped.

"Why do you only feel homesick for America when you're away from Korea?" he scolded, my hair.

"Because I'm home here. I'm home there. When I was in Chile, I felt welcomed, but I wasn't... home. God, I missed you so much. My family, my friends... all of them. Maybe that's why I'm split."

He continued to my hair, sending shivers up my spine, yet soothing me, like it always did.

"Well, you know... home... is where the heart is. So if you want to know where your home is... first, where is your heart?"

I thought about it only a moment before I sighed and held him tighter. 

"Wherever you are."

"Then I guess we solved your problem, didn't we?"

Smiling, I put my arms around his neck, pulling myself up to his lips. We kissed, sweet and soft and warm, and long overdue. And right then, I knew exactly where I belonged.