₪₪₪₪₪

All equipment had been set up on the countryside road. Makeshift tents set up and around the area for food, shelter, and rest. They’d gone through the script several times before recording. The weather was in compliance with their work, all proceeding smoothly.

That was except for Namjoo.

He hadn’t been able to talk to her…yet. She was busy, occupied. Most often, he found her taking pictures of the scenery or gazing off into the distance. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, if anything was wrong at all. What was she thinking about? Did she want to talk to him like he but was unable to because of the interruption of work?

Hours droned by. The sun climbed higher and higher into the sky, beating them with heat and unimaginable humidity. Stylists repeatedly hurried after him to wipe sweat away, make sure his clothes were not sweat-stained. By late afternoon, cool air breezed past them. The pace of filming slowed and the staff even joked with him.

Curious countryside people crowded around to watch them, so for an hour they spent time associating and talking, giving out autographs. But he still couldn’t get to Namjoo. Several times he saw Taehyung talking to her and he thought about hiring Chanyeol out to do some deeds for him.

Early evening, he was freed. Namjoo was resting under the shelter after pulling her false lashes off. The crew was packing up for the day. Bummed from standing under the heat all day, everyone was dying to lie down in bed.

“I saw you talking to Taehyung,” Jongin said sitting down.

Namjoo lifted her head up from where it’d been hanging over the back of her chair. “We only talked about the weather.”

“Quite a few times,” he noted.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back, “Something you want?”

“What room are you in?” he asked.

Straightening, she glanced at him. “I’m tired Jongin.”

“We haven’t talked for a day,” he reminded.

“We can talk when we’re back in the city.” Forehead soaked with beads of sweat, Namjoo stood and walked away.

₪₪₪₪₪

Namjoo must be impulsively irritated being constantly overwhelmed with her own thoughts that she out the immediate moment she reached the hotel. She awoke in the wee hours of the night, dragged a towel with her to the bathroom for a shower, and climbed back into bed. For a while she lay there wide awake and turned at the knock on her door. Surprised she sat up, reached for her phone. It was 2AM. Everyone should be asleep.

Tossing the blanket aside she started toward the door and unlocked it. Jongin quickly sidestepped in and shut the door after him.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “This is the ladies’ floor.”

He held up a finger to his lips, slyly. “Do you know how much I had to pay to get your room number?”

She scoffed, “You didn’t really.”

He held up a finger to his lips to hush her. Namjoo momentarily observed him, watching that genius smile climb onto his face. Giving in, she hugged him.

“I missed you,” she declared.

“Me too,” he hugged her.

Releasing her, Namjoo gave him a peck, “You were right. A reporter paid Hee for information.”

“What?” he asked with a frown.

“I didn’t tell her anything,” Namjoo claimed.

“Which reporter?” he wondered.

“I didn’t get to find out,” Namjoo said.

“You should,” Jongin encouraged.

Namjoo shrugged, “Don’t know what good that’ll do at this point. I feel like…like this is causing Hee to drift from me.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Is it?” she asked. “Sometimes, I have to think twice about who I am.”

Running a hand over her hair he assured, “You’re you. No matter how many different versions there may be, you’re you. Ok?”

She kissed him again, “I’m sorry I was angry.”

“I’m not always right either,” he reminded.

Kissing again she hugged him a little tighter.

“You have filming early in the morning,” she reminded. “Maybe you should go now.”

“Then it’d be a waste even coming,” he pointed out.

Pulling him toward the bed she threw the covers over them and shifted to look at each other. They kissed a little more, legs interlocking, middles meeting and brushing before sliding a hand up under his shirt. Her body tingled with want. His back was smooth, warm.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “There’s only a few hours left.”

“I’ll wake up in time,” he promised sliding his shirt off and listened to her giggle as he reached for hers.

Jongin was long gone by the time she awoke. The area he’d lain in was cold but smelled faintly of him. Namjoo traced her fingers over his spot before waking and heading out. They were going to leave straight from the filming sight back to the city. On the way to bringing her duffel bag to the van she headed toward the cameras to see Jongin recording from afar. As the stylist ran up to adjust his makeup he turned to catch her and grinned. Shyly smiling, Namjoo waved.

₪₪₪₪₪

Minseok stared for a long time at the document he’d whipped up last evening. Not once before in his career had he hesitated. Work never a personal game for him. There was always a border, a line to it. Wherein being professional was far from personal.

He had tried. He really had tried often times, more than ten to get something out of Namjoo. She’d stated her mind every time. You should be a write she said. But who was she to see that in him.

She was too naïve.

But what could he do? This was his work. He lived off doing this. Celebrities fed off people and people fed their dull lives with celebrities. It was a winding circle. How could one go unscathed then?

People just wanted to know the truth about Kim Namjoo, Kim Kai’s girlfriend. She could have dirt on him and Minseok wanted that. Kai would only go down if Namjoo went first. It was only logical that everything about Kai would come out once it happened. Survival of the fittest. Wasn’t that how it went?

Poor Namjoo had just gotten in the way.

Minseok’s hand hovered over the keys.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed before pounding on the button that would forever eliminate Namjoo.

₪₪₪₪₪

Namjoo thought over all the things she could do once in the city. Bathe then head out to Jongin’s. They could finally get a movie and finish up the date they were meant to a few days ago. That sounded plausible.

Euphoria seeped through her merry veins as she peered out at the tall grass filling up the scenery. Cornfields rolled out into the beyond and cows busily grazed. Clouds floated overhead unmoving. Namjoo was glad to be getting away from the humid heat, done with sweating a dozen pounds. In the air a flight of birds were taking off in a triangle formation, up and over those trees they went. It was nice to be going home. Soon she would be reunited with Jongin.

Namjoo glanced down when her phone beeped a message. Before she could even touch the message a phone call buzzed. Her eyes shot toward her manager when his phone started going off. A coincidence of phone calls?

Remaining calm, Namjoo picked up the phone, “Hello?”

“This is Kim Myung Il from CBC news, is this actress Kim Namjoo?” a stoic voice asked.

“Y…yes.”

“Is it true that your mother is Ms. H and you were never an orphan?” the voice interrogated with repeated formality.

Her face went blank. Immediately hanging up she felt her hand tremor. There was a buzz in her ears. Her blood rushed wildly underneath her skin.

“Namjoo,” Joontae called.

Namjoo’s head snapped up to attention with shock.

“The CEO wants to see you.”

₪₪₪₪₪

Impending doom whispered through the hallow corridors as Namjoo slowly stepped toward the office of hell. Her hands were clammy. Concentration disappeared. Mind void of any strategy she might have.

This wasn’t a big deal. But it was a big deal.

For liars never had it easy. In the eyes of the law, a liar was condemned.

Namjoo was that bad. This was what she deserved for being shameless.

No matter how many times she thought of it, she really wasn’t ready to face her crime.

Reaching the door, Namjoo raised her hand up to knock. was dry. Gritting her teeth together to calm her nerves, she finally knocked.

“Come in,” a voice called out.

Pushing the door open, Namjoo peered inside recalling the office as it was the first time she stepped inside. She gulped and hoped didn’t show it as she closed the door.

“I’m here,” she announced her entrance.

“Have a seat,” Hyunki invited. Rising from her desk to sit down on the couch. This time the woman didn’t offer her a cup of tea, which Namjoo might have taken hoping it would calm her nerves because they were on fire. She eyed Namjoo who still stood, “Sit down.”

“I…I’m fine standing.”

“I said sit down,” voice stoic, she ordered.

Pursing her lips together, Namjoo sat down across from her. First her hands settled around her sides. When Hyunki didn’t say anything Namjoo anxiously settled them on her lap. Hyunki gave her one good look that read of nothing. It shot her heartbeat up.

“What is going on?” she asked.

Namjoo peered at the woman feeling like she was a mouse staring up at a big cat.

“Let me put it this way,” Hyunki crossed her legs, “first, you claimed the article about you was true. No parents, backbreaking story, poor upbringing, and then Jongin. I know how it goes from Jongin, because I ordered it that way. We had this conversation before, but you gave me your word. I trusted you.”

“I…I’m sorry,” Namjoo immediately apologized.

“For?” Hyunki asked, waited.

Silence zoomed in. Namjoo was scared. She was in big trouble.

“I don’t want bad publicity, Namjoo,” Hyunki continued. “This could be bad for you, but even greater damage for us. You created a load of publicity and people saw it in a positive light. You can’t imagine what’ll happen with this article.”

Pushing the papers on the table that had been invisible to Namjoo from the moment she sat down forward, Hyunki waited. Namjoo felt her hands embarrassingly shake as she reached for them. Ms. H is Kim Namjoo’s Mother. Below the black bold title was a short article describing Namjoo’s home and the other woman that lived in it. Even a friend had admitted that Kim Namjoo had many secrets. It was too obvious who Ms. H was, but what friend?

Shame hammered her.

“I’ve received calls already and companies want to withdraw their contracts with you,” Hyunki explained. “They’re pulling away the endorsements you and Jongin just shot. That’s over one million dollars. That’s just an example. Damage control is quite expensive in this modern age.

“The public shame is excessive and you’ll be looked on in unlikely ways. I can give it to you that lying is no big deal, but the difference is that you’ve become a public figure. More so, you are Kai’s girlfriend and that’s not a simple story. This will hurt him, the drama, and your money. Now, Namjoo, what kind of responsibility are you going to take?”

₪₪₪₪₪

Namjoo immediately flinched when she stepped out the doors of the building. Reporters shoved their big fat and black mics into her face. Cameras viciously clicked, flashed. Though it was broad daylight, Namjoo felt like the lights jabbed her pupils furiously.

“Why did you lie?”

“Who is Ms. H?”

“What kind of benefit did you get out of lying?”

“Does your boyfriend know?”

“Are you and your mother in this together? For money?”

“What other secrets do you have?”

The questions kept coming, hounding her. In the far distance, she could hear outcries of fans calling her a liar. Jongin’s fans, perhaps, were calling her nasty names because she had tricked him.

“Out of the way!” her manager struggled to pave a way through for her. “Move! No pictures! We’re not answering any questions!”

Her heart thudded wildly. Namjoo was near panicking. The crowd had thickened. They had transitioned to pushing, screaming wildly. The buzz of traffic was lightyears away. She felt alone although she was the betrayer in this game. It made her sick to her stomach. Her courage shrank to the size of a bean. She was throttled.

Finally, into the sanctity of the van, Namjoo curled up into the seat feeling numb. The driver door slammed and Joontae floored the accelerator.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” he asked.

Numb, numb all over. Namjoo’s brain felt dead. She couldn’t think.

“You can’t go home. There will be reporters outside of your home,” he told. “Do you have somewhere to go? Can you call your boyfriend?”

At the word boyfriend Namjoo burst into tears. Jongin…what was she going to do with him?

₪₪₪₪₪

Jongin had changed the bedsheets. It was good to be clean just in case. He was just waiting for Namjoo to knock on his door then they’d head out to pick a movie, maybe buy some new grocery. The food in his fridge looked unlikely. He planned to toss them before Namjoo arrived.

He went through his home to make sure it was clean, that the cleaner had done her job. Then there was a knock at his door. Jongin hurried toward it. The big grin on his face disappeared when he saw an unfamiliar face. At the same moment, his phone on the table rang.

“Who are you?” Jongin asked.

The brusque looking man held out his business card to introduce himself, “I’m Cha Hyunsung from Joseon News. I’d like to ask you some questions about your girlfriend, Kim Namjoo.”

Jongin slammed the door in his face. Locking the door he started toward the ringing phone that sounded like a wailing siren.

“What?” he asked after seeing that it was Chanyeol.

“Bad news,” Chanyeol reported. “Don’t turn on the TV. There are articles on Namjoo and they’re getting big hits. The comments don’t look good.”

“What’s going on?” Jongin asked.

“They found out who her mother is,” Chanyeol broke the news.

Jongin’s blood ran cold. “And?”

“The company is still currently deciding what to do with her. I got the news that she went in to talk with Hyunki a while ago. She might get axed.”

The hand at his side grew into a tight fist.

“Don’t open the door. There are reporters outside of your house,” Chanyeol warned.

“Too late,” Jongin muttered.

Chanyeol sighed. “Filming may be postponed. This is bad news Jongin. If it gets out that Namjoo was in on the lie with you…”

“It won’t,” Jongin stoically declared, “because I’ll fix it.”

“Jongin,” Chanyeol called, “don’t do anything foolish. The CEO isn’t very happy. Your endorsements are getting pulled back.”

“So she’s going to sacrifice Namjoo liked she doesn’t matter?!” Jongin raised his voice. “It’s our fault this is happening!”

“Jongin.” Chanyeol demanded.

“No, I’m hanging up. I’ll fix this before it gets any worse.” Jongin gritted his teeth and slammed the phone.

So there were reporters outside his house. Reporters…

Why call a press conference when there were reporters?

Spinning around he pulled the door open. The Mr. Cha reporter or whoever was still stubbornly outside.

“Mr. Cha,” Jongin greeted, “you asked a question about my girlfriend.”

***it's escalating! See, when you lie things always get worse. Now Jongin is going to blow it up. Poor Namjoo is being sacrificed for everything. She was just too nice and naive