Hello, Dear Readers!

Here's the update! It's a bit longer than usual. Hope you like it! If you do, please don't forget to comment, subscribe and upvote! Those three things keep me going during these busy days, so thanks in advance!  ^_^

Chapter 26

"You don't know his name yet?"

"How am I supposed to know that. The only time he ever talks to me is to place an order."

Key and HimChan were sitting over lunch talking about Key's 'stalker'.

"What does his voice sound like? I couldn't really hear him from where I was sitting."

Key smiled shyly.

"Nice," he said.

"Oh, so our little Key is in love," HimChan teased.

"Stop being ridiculous," Key pouted, "how can I be in love. I don't even know the guy."

"But you want to know him," HimChan crooned further teasing him.

"Why would I want to know some creepy stalker guy who won't even talk to me. I mean, how long has it been? Anyway, he could be . . . I don't know . . . dangerous or something."

"I don't think so," HImChan said. "He just seems lonely. Whatever the case, I'm sure of one thing. Either he's an egomaniac or he's pretty well-off."

"Why do you say that?"

"His stuff is monogrammed."

"What stuff?"

"The bag he carries his laptop and all those papers in. And . . . his cufflinks."

"His cufflinks? How did you get close enough to see those."

But HimChan just tapped the side of his nose to indicate secret knowledge.

"That's all I need, some sheltered chaebol who probably doesn't have the balls to stand up to his crazy, controlling family. No thanks," Key huffed.

"Now you're just writing some sort of drama script in your head. All I said was that his stuff was monogrammed. He might not be rich at all. Remember, we still can't rule out the fact that he may just be an egomaniac. Or else maybe he's harpaxophobic?"

"What the hell is harpa . . . whatever you said?"

"Fear of being robbed . . ."

"Trust you to know something useless like that."

" . . . maybe everything he owns is marked with his initials. Maybe his underwear is tagged with his name and address. You'll have to tell me when you get into them."

Key slapped HimChan's arm.

"Cut it out . . . Great. A stalker and a friend who's a ert. How lucky am I?" Key sneered.

"Or maybe he has gelotophobia."

"And that is . . . "

"Fear of being laughed at."

"Oh god . . . "

" . . . which, if he's observed you even a little, he'd be scared stiff of you doing that."

"So then, why keep coming in, day after day, sitting there hour after hour, even on shifts I wasn't scheduled to work, if I scare him so much?" Key huffed.

"You don't scare him. He wants you . . . no, he's just afraid you'll say 'no'."

"Are you psychic or something? How do you know that?"

"As I keep telling everyone, but no one believes me for some reason, I'm a great judge of character. He wants you. He's just paralysed with fear. You'd scare me, and I'm pretty robust of character," HimChan boasted.

"You? Robust? You're kidding right? What about . . . you-know-who? You don't seem to be able to get yourself together where he's concerned."

"Oh, that . . . I've given up on that. He's made it more than obvious that he's not interested. No, I'm going to direct my sights elsewhere. Or nowhere. Who knows? Maybe love will come and tap me on the shoulder when I least expect it," HimChan said. "Preferably right in front of his face so he'll eat his liver for letting me get away."

"Yeah, that sounds like you've given up," Key smirked.

"Anyway we're here about your love life, not mine. Now, what are you going to do about this guy? Let him wile away hours in a café every day for months or even years because he can't work up the nerve to scale the insurmountable wall that is Kim KiBum?"

"Don't exaggerate. He won't do that."

"He looked pretty determined to me."

"Well, if he won't talk to me, there's nothing else I can do," Key said offhandedly.

"You could talk to him," HimChan suggested.

"I can't believe you'd say something like that," said Key. "You're a manager and you're advocating that a manager where you work approaches a customer for personal reasons? You scandalize me, sir."

"Not 'a manager' . . . you . . . not 'a customer' . . . him," HimChan replied.

"Why should this be such an exception?"

"Because it is."

"Well, not for me. It's unethical and I'm not doing it. If he 'wants me' as you say, he'll have to summon up enough courage to approach me. If not, then he can sit there day after day, eating, drinking and racking up tips for me," Key said triumphantly.

"Maybe . . . oh, hang on a minute . . . " HimChan checked his phone. "I have to go. My interview is here."

"How many people is Mark hiring for the peak hours?"

"Two. I hope they'll be the first two I see. I don't have lots of patience for interviews."

"Then Mark must be happy he chose the best person for the job of interviewer," Key said sarcastically. "Before you go, how is Mark doing?"

"As well as can be expected, I guess. I'm off. Wish me luck."

"Luck," Key called as HimChan disappeared down the stairs.

When HimChan got to the counter, he saw a fresh-faced young man standing there.

"Hello, are you the applicant?"

"Yes," he said bowing respectfully.

"My name is Kim HimChan. I'm the morning manager. I'll be conducting the interview."

The young man flashed a bright, friendly smile.

"My name is Kevin Woo. Pleased to meet you."

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

HimChan had a busy morning. He conducted three interviews, while serving in between, but that wasn't exactly all that was keeping him busy.

Whenever he got a chance he'd send a text.

He'd decided he needed more brains on the case regarding Key and JKH.

That was the stalker's monogram.

He was standing in the kitchen, in the midst of sending a text to KwangHee when . . .

"How is your morning going?"

He knew that voice. But, was that question directed at him?

He looked up. But somehow, couldn't say a word. Maybe he asked someone else, but just happens to be looking at me right now.

"How is your morning going? With the interviews, I mean?"

No, he was definitely talking to me.

"O . . . oh . . . fine . . . " he stammered.

Way to go, HimChan. Pull yourself together. Look casual.

In the meantime, his insides were pounding away, rising and falling like a triphammer.

"Find anyone good?" he asked, completely unaware of the untidy internal workings of Kim HimChan at the moment.

"There are a few more people . . . applicants to see, so . . . I don't know yet."

"Oh, okay."

"And Mark will be interviewing some people, too," he said in a voice that was way too rushed. It also made it sound like he wanted to keep the conversation going.

Lame, he declared inwardly.

"Oh."

That went just great . . .

"If Mark is going to be interviewing when he comes in, who's going to cover his shift?" JongUp asked after some thought.

He's still talking to me?

"I'm going to stay."

"But twelve to two is one of the busiest times. I can stay longer to help out," he offered.

"Stay? . . . You don't have to . . . "

"I know, but . . . I don't mind . . . If you need me, that is . . . "

*FLIP-BANG!*

If I need you . . .

"Sure, I could use you . . . (what did that sound like?) . . .  I mean, um, we could use the help . . . if you don't mind staying . . . I mean . . . "

"No, I don't mind," JongUp smiled.

*TRIP-BANG*

JongUp's smile . . .

Then he grabbed a full tray of cups and carried it into the front of house.

HimChan hit his forehead in exasperation.

Usually, he conducted himself professionally in front of JongUp.

Well, as professionally as possible.

But that was because JongUp hardly ever spoke. He had only rarely had to exchange words with him and that suited Kim HimChan just fine. Because, as long as they hardly spoke, JongUp would never see him become tongue-tied. As he had just now. But, at the same time, it didn't suit him. Because then he had no way to get to know JongUp. He didn't have a problem with texting, though: he'd invited him to the party for Mark—making it clear, of course, that he wasn't the only off-duty employee who'd been invited—and he'd been knocked back. And ever since then, even though he was lively and talkative at work, but rarely did HimChan say anything that elicited more than an 'okay' from JongUp. The truth was, that now he felt a little diminished in front of him with JongUp not responding with anything that could set up a sort of banter between them. And, JongUp had never asked him how the party went. In fact, he never really initiated any conversation between them.

Until today.

Okay, it wasn't much. It was just asking how his morning was going.

But, it was something.

But then he followed it up with an offer to work the lunch-shift. That must be why he asked. He probably needs a bit more cash for something.

I hope he's not having any financial troubles . . . he worried.

Or, he probably wants the extra money to take some girl he likes out on a special date or something . . .

Suddenly, the fire that had been ablaze inside him at JongUp asking him about his morning, was drenched by the cold water of reason.

Just forget it, Kim Himchan, he smiled sadly. Just forget it.

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

YoungJae and JaeBum were hanging up their headphones, about to head out for an early lunch before starting the next recording in the early afternoon.

"Is Fei-Noona not coming again today?"

"No, this is too early for her. She's not off for lunch for about another hour."

"Oh," YoungJae said.

"What, missing her?" JaeBum teased.

"Sort of," YoungJae said.

"What . . . really?"

"What's so surprising about that?"

"Well, I got the distinct impression that you didn't like her,"

"Oh, that," YoungJae said embarrassed. "Sorry about that, JaeBum-Hyung. I didn't think you noticed."

"We both noticed," JaeBum smiled. "But it's okay. She said it was because you liked me, but I didn't believe her. I guess she was right. I didn't know you were the jealous type, though. I hope you're not too scary."

YoungJae coloured perceptibly.

"Sorry, Hyung. I'm not usually jealous, I just . . . "

"It's alright. I was just kidding."

"She's such a nice and friendly noona . . . I hope I didn't hurt her feelings."

"Fei? Little chance of that. She's as tough as old boots. Anyway, she likes you. She'll join us for lunch another day. I'll call her about tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, " YoungJae smiled.

"I am a little hurt, though."

YoungJae looked alarmed. "Why, Hyung?"

"Because we've only been together two seconds and you don't want have me all to yourself," JaeBum pouted jokingly.

"I do . . . want you to myself . . . " YoungJae said shyly, " but, at lunchtime . . . "

"It's okay, I was only joking," JaeBum said as he flung an arm around his boyfriend's shoulder. "Let's go get some lunch."

"That SeulOng is really good for our JoKwon, isn't he?" JaeBum asked after he'd swallowed a mouthful of KimChi Rice.

"He seems to really understand Hyung well. He's really good to him," YoungJae agreed.

"Now, just Jia and Min to go and our entire old group will be paired off," JaeBum smiled. "Jia has a blind date tonight."

"A blind date? She said she'd never go on one of those," YoungJae exclaimed.

"Well, she's going tonight. She and Min went to a fortune-teller. He told Jia she would meet someone on a blind date and told Min to wait and that person would come to her. So Jia's dating and Min's waiting," JaeBum smiled.

YoungJae laughed at the rhyme.

"But, Hyung, you don't believe in fortune-telling do you?"

"I went once. When he told me that I was going to get married to a beautiful woman and have three children, I knew he had no idea what he was talking about," he grinned.

"It could still happen," YoungJae said quietly.

"Choi YoungJae! Don't tell me you believe in that stuff."

"Well, maybe a little . . . my aunt went and they told her some things that came true . . . "

"And I'll bet they also told her things that didn't come true. Anyway, they tell you general things that could happen to anybody and then you go about fulfilling it. If I wasn't so sure, I may have looked for this 'beautiful woman' and then had three kids with her, just because he'd suggested it and I would've thought I was fulfilling my destiny or something. Thank goodness I knew it couldn't happen as soon as he'd said it."

"How did you know that?"

"Because . . . " he said, leaning forward, "I already knew I was in love with you," he whispered. Then he sat up again and said, "he didn't see that in his cards, did he?"

YoungJae giggled.

"No, I guess he didn't."

As they lingered over their empty dishes enjoying the last few minutes before returning to the studio, JaeBum briefly raised a new topic.

"Have you heard anything from Mark since the party?" JaeBum asked.

"No."

"It was strange JinYoung leaving so suddenly like that. I wonder what made him rush back? . . .  Once our schedules calm down a bit, maybe we can take Mark out for a meal." Then JaeBum sat thoughtfully considering.

"HimChan told me he hadn't heard from JinYoung since he left."

"What? That doesn't sound like Hyung."

"No, it doesn't, does it? Going back is one thing, but not being in touch at all? . . . I wonder if JinYoung's parents are making trouble for him again?" he mused.

Then he decided.

"I'm going to phone him tonight and see how he's doing."

*                                 *                                 *                                 *                                 *

The phone rang later that evening, but only on JaeBum's end.

JinYoung had turned it off.

Even if it had been on, he wouldn't have had the strength to answer it.

Just as he hadn't had the strength to answer it since he spoke to MiRa two days ago.

He hadn't been in to work.

He hadn't been out of his apartment.

He'd hardly been out of his room.

His life now consisted of reading old messages from Mark, left on his phone. Trivial stuff he'd saved. "Are you on your way? You're not trying to get out of training today, are you? . . . Have you eaten? . . . Are you awake yet? . . . I miss you . . . "

He had a box of the letters they'd exchanged when JinYoung served in the army. He handled them carefully as he removed each one from its envelope in turn and read through them, in order, one by one. He read the lines of heartache as they wrote their pain on pages and pages, the only things uniting them between those few and far between visits. He remembered their crashing bodies as they threw themselves against each other in longing and aching need. He remembered that every moment they spent together was filled with only the two of them. Mark filled all of his senses. He was all that JinYoung wanted or needed.

He looked through every picture they'd taken over the years.

I remember this one.

It was of Mark on a swing. It was taken at a playground near Mark's parents' house. He had taken JinYoung around his entire town that day. Shown him where he'd gone to school, where he'd played basketball. Some of the old places were gone, but some of them were still there. Like where he used to eat shaved ice. He took JinYoung there and introduced her to the aunt who ran it. She was so happy to see that he remembered her. She even sat down for a bit and talked about how the kids today are pretty nice, but added with a sigh that some were not. In any case, she said cheerfully, no one was a nice as Mark and she patted his shoulder warmly.

The last place they went that day was the playground. It was near dinner time, so the children had gone home. JinYoung decided that an empty playground looked depressing, but then Mark took JinYoung's hand and they played together on all the equipment. The slide. The teeter-totter. The monkey bars. The last thing he went on was the swing. Mark swung way up and JinYoung snapped this picture catching him against the background of the red and blue of the retiring sky.

We played a lot that day, he smiled. My Mark and I.

My Mark . . .

His landline rang. He'd forgotten to unplug it.

The answering machine blared a message.

"JinYoung, it's your mother . . . JinYoung pick up . . . "

He didn't have the strength to get up and answer. Nor did he have the desire.

"JinYoung . . ." her voice faltered, "I'm getting worried now . . . no one has seen or heard from you and I'm scared that . . . JinYoung please just pick up and tell me you're okay . . ."

He dragged himself off the bed and stumbled towards the phone.

But it was too late. She'd already rung off.

Now he would have to phone her back.

"Umma?"

"JinYoung-Ah! Thank god you're alright! No one has been able to reach you . . . "

"I know, Umma . . . " he said tiredly.

"We've been so worried . . . "

"I know, Umma . . . " he repeated.

The sound of his voice began to alarm her. It sounded so . . . dead.

"JinYoung-Ah, what's wrong? You don't sound like yourself . . . have you eaten?"

JinYoung didn't answer. He hadn't. He hadn't tried today. Yesterday, he found he couldn't keep anything down. Today, he had no appetite.

"JinYoung-Ah, now listen to me. I'm going to bring you something to eat."

"No, please, I just need to rest."

"I promise, I won't stay long. But, just . . . " here her voice broke, " . . . let me bring you something to eat and just . . . see with my own eyes that you're okay . . . please . . . "

The sound of his mother's voice like that was breaking his heart. Recently she'd been demanding, controlling, threatening, insistent, but now . . . now, she sounded like the mother of old, the mother he would have done anything for and he didn't want her to worry.

"Okay, Umma, " he relented, "see you soon."

It didn't take long for Mrs Pak to arrive. She always kept extra side-dishes in the refrigerator, so now she only had to quickly prepare some rice and soup to make a full meal. Mr Pak was working late that night, so she was glad she didn't have to burden him with this. It seemed to her that she had spent too much of her life keeping him safe from unnecessary stress. She did this because she was afraid.

She knew that men often died before women. She'd first discovered this fact in her youth, but it didn't mean anything to her then. It didn't mean anything to her until she'd met him.

He was so handsome and dashing and, dare she say it? Beautiful.

She never thought that such a man existed. All her friends liked boys who were handsome of course, but those boys were all arrogant. That's why, even though she also thought they were handsome, she never really liked any of the boys from her school.

This was the first person she had ever really liked.

He was the first man she ever thought was beautiful. Beautiful on the inside. He had a kind heart. He was thoughtful of her. He was even-tempered. He was reliable, always keeping his word to her.

And when she saw her friends dating, getting married and then suffering as their wedding rings started to squeeze, she couldn't believe her luck. She couldn't believe that she, a quite ordinary person in her view, was in love with such a wonderful person and that he actually loved her back.

But, that's when her fears began.

She thought, no one can be this happy. It's going to stop soon. Something will happen and he'll be taken away from me.

That was when she started protecting him.

Whatever problems arose at home that she could keep from him, or handle instead of him, she always did. She had to protect him. She had to protect his health so that he wouldn't leave her to suffer the world alone. And without him, she knew, she would truly be alone.

She loved him with an honest, deep and abiding love.

And when they had their son, she loved him too. And she tried to protect him. She tried her best.

And now . . .

His voice, just now on the phone . . . so weak . . . so tired . . . it wasn't like her JinYoung at all.

So, she would go and take care of him. And protect his health. And protect him. Guard him from whatever was hurting him. She would drive away whatever it was that was making her precious child sound that way. He would be just as he had always been: he would be her JinYoung again. So she packed everything up, got into her car and drove to her son.

But she couldn't know, how could she know, that she was the one who was hurting him most of all?

I'll update again soon! Please don't forget to COMMENT, SUBSCRIBE and UPVOTE!  (*^_^)

If you ever get bored while waiting for updates, please feel free to check out my other MarkJin stories.  ^_^

Looking forward to the growth of the GOT7 fanbase here on AFF, especially the supporters of MARKJIN!  (*^_^)