CHAPTER 2

 

                One would believe that life wouldn’t grow even more troublesome than it was already appearing to be.  However, those beliefs are constantly thrown aside like a person throwing away an uninteresting piece of junk.  If such a saying wasn’t true for many people, it was inadvertently true for me.  At first, I idiotically believed that my day couldn’t get worse than it was and that it had to only get better.  However, I was quickly proved wrong after quite a while.

                Picking myself up off the ground after hours of sitting in the same place, waiting for the shock to subside, I scrounged around in my things for spare change.  Not daring to count how much I had found, I was satisfied enough to pull out my phone that had a minute or two left and call a cab to bring me to the airport.  A strong part of me declared that I was a buffoon for going along with my mother’s plans, but a miniscule part at the back of my head poked at me, whispering that it was the only way.  For the first time in my life, I decided to listen to the little voice since I was utterly tired of dealing with my mother’s antics.  If she wanted to change herself and find me once more, she would have to come to Korea.

                I could have sworn that my heart would beat out of my chest as the airport aligned into sight.  Even though I had decided to go along with what my mother wanted for the last time, the silence that lasted while inside the cab made my mind race like a madman.  The thought of this entire day actually growing truer by the second and not being a dream was slowly creeping across my mind.  What could I do though? 

                “Miss, that’ll be eleven fifty,” the cab driver stated, breaking my train of thought.  Eyes widening, I rapidly tried to count the miles on my fingers.  With the day’s events, I had completely spaced on asking how much the fare would be.  Giving up on the math that was forming in my mind, I plucked the money from my pockets.  Wincing at the fact that I roughly had twenty dollars and a handful of quarters, I handed the bill and two of the coins over.  Upon receiving the change, I shoved open the door and yanked my luggage out of the car.  “Have a nice day,” the man grumbled, obviously upset that I didn’t—actually I couldn’t—tip him.  Mumbling my gratitude and apologies, I shut the door and watched as the yellow vehicle sped off.  Whatever else was the man’s problem, it gave a small poke in the corner of my mind, for other matters were bogging it down. Gritting my teeth, I pulled the needed items out of my suitcase and swung my backpack across my shoulders.  My heart freaking out, I took the few steps towards the entrance of the airport. 

                In truth, there were very few times when my mother and I had flown places.  We used to go back and forth between Korea and America before she decided to “settle down”, and with that she ended up becoming a drunkard.  However, this was the first time I was going to Korea—let alone on a plane—by myself.  For some odd reason, it felt more nerve wracking to be going there alone than dealing with the mess that my mother had created. 

                Once going through the usual routine one would have to go through to board a plane, I eventually stepped foot on the one headed to where I was to transfer to the Korean airlines.  As I sat near a window, I leaned my forehead against the edge of the specialized glass and peered out, waiting for it all to be over. The more my heart pounded, the more I started to think that I was going to have a heart attack.  If the woman that gave birth to me had ever thought of how her idiocy would affect me, then I wouldn’t have been on the plane in the first place.

                Hours passed and the pounding eventually faded, that is until we hit ground once more in New York.  Like in the past, the flight attendant went through the instructions for those who were transferring to another flight.  My mind urgently grasped at the words being said and gently tucked them away, even if I knew the routine. 

                As the woman settled into silence, everyone in the plane stood and gathered their belongings that seemed to have become strewn across their little spaces.  Picking up my one item and hugging it to my chest, I waited until the other people around me filed out of the rows and down the long path to the terminal. 

                Finally stepping out of the plane, the familiarity of it all washed over me.  Sure, I only went to Korea a few times, but each time was as clear as day in my head as I unconsciously went to the place where I was to change to the Korean airlines.  Upon arriving, I luckily only had to wait a mere thirty minutes before the flight came in.  Anxiety rushing over me once more, I glanced around secretly hoping for my mother to appear out of nowhere and exclaim that she only wanted to scare the hell out of me like a belated April Fools prank.  Panic rising in my throat, I glanced around once more and realized that that she wasn’t going to appear.  Berating myself for having such thoughts, I stood in line and waited for my turn to step forward and board the plane.

                “Excuse me Miss, but are you Cha Mi Kyoung?” the man who checked the boarding tickets and passports questioned in a heavily accented voice.  Shocked that the worker knew my name without looking at what I still clutched in my hands, I slowly nodded in response.  “If you would then go this way, someone has requested and paid for you to upgrade,” he stated with a small bow.  Confused, I stepped aside and watched as an attendant broke away and instructed that I followed her to the correct area.

                The waiting place around the “upgraded” area had been completely barren as if I was the very last person to board—which I probably was.  Glancing at the girl who was smiling to herself, I sighed and decided to do exactly as she led me to do.

                “Are they already in the plane?” the girl questioned a fellow coworker in fluent Korean.  The man looked between the two of us for a split second before slowly nodding.

                “Is this her?” he spoke up, voice cracking as if he hadn’t spoken for a while.  The girl before me bit back a laugh and voiced her reply.  The two then looked me up and down as if I wasn’t an actual person standing before them, but a display for everyone to analyze.  A little peeved at the way I was being treated, I quickly offered up my passport and ticket.  From my sudden movement, the two were nudged back into reality and the man gratefully accepted my passport with two hands.  Upon giving me the approval, he leaned close to his coworker’s ear and whispered that she could go in.  The look she portrayed on her face seemed as if she would melt into a puddle of happiness.  Slightly disgusted, I packed both my passport and useless ticket away before heading down the makeshift hall to the airplane.  As I entered, I wasn’t met by the usual happy flight attendants.  No, they seemed to be gathered around three guys who seemed to be famous figures in Korea, since they were all speaking the language fluently.  Pressing my lips together, I stood there not knowing whether or not I should take a seat in one of the many recliner-like chairs that were placed quite far from each other.  In the times that my mother and I had gone to Korea, my uncles never extended such privileges our way.  So, why now? Why did they want me to fly in such a grand airplane with famous people?

                “Yah! How could you not do your job?” the girl who had brought me to the plane loudly whispered to the two flight attendants after brushing past me.  Everyone quieted as the two turned and looked in my direction, eyes nearly popping out.  I lifted an eyebrow when one mouthed my name to the girl.  After she nodded, the two plastered sickly sweet smiles onto their faces before shuffling over to my side.  It was as if I was taken out of reality and placed in a really cheesy Asian drama all of the sudden.

                “Right this way miss,” one of the two instructed with forced kindness.  Appalled to an extent by the tone of her voice, I gave a short, quick nod.  With that, I was led to a chair closest to one of the three men that had everyone had been fawning over.

                The man was engrossed in whatever his cellphone held.  One glancing at his black ball cap pulled down low on his head to cover his face, the extremely nice clothing, and his god-like posture—with his long legs stretched out before him, thin arms, and gorgeous hands—would think that he was someone who didn’t belong in a world full of such average people.  That is, until they notice the two miniature stuffed elephants hanging off of his phone.  At that point, he somehow fit into this world once more.  Sure he was probably a greater being, but he still fit in some way somehow. 

                “Hyung!” a goat-like voice broke the peaceful silence, coming from one of the two others who had been kneeling on his chair in front of the hatted man as if he was a two year old, restless for the journey back to Korea.  Such a voice and manner sparked a small piece of my memory, and I turned away to try and make the memory grow.  “We should give the attendants something…”

                “Like what?” another, deeper voice piped up.  This entire encounter was as if I was placed on a memory roller coaster blindfolded.  Peering out of the corner of my eyes, I watched as the goat man opened and shut his mouth, not knowing the answer to the question announced.  He gave up after a few seconds, sliding down his chair in defeat.

                “I’ll contact the manager and have him think of something to get for them,” the capped man finally said, prying his eyes away from his phone.  Right as the words left his mouth, the one with the deeper voice peeked over the edge of his sunglasses.  The end of their exchange caused the memory of how I knew these three to slam harshly into my mind to where I was practically gasping in shock.  To confirm such thoughts, I quickly scanned my eyes over their profiles.  Once positive, I turned away from the three so that I could squeeze my eyes shut tightly.  They were in fact the three that had split from the all-powerful group DBSK.

                There had been a time when I was an ever faithful fan of the group.  Before their break up, I knew everything about each and every single member.   They were my escape from the real world.  I was naïve and believed that their name really meant that they were gods and that they would come and rescue me from my hectic life.  When they broke up and the lawsuit from SM Entertainment was made known, I was devastated.  My silly thoughts were crushed to sawdust.  It wasn’t like I blamed the three for what happened; I just strongly disliked them because they weren’t gods to me anymore.  They were mere human beings that had lied to me for so long that I couldn’t handle it any longer. 

               The strangest part about it, though, was that even though I now knew that the two left behind weren’t gods either, I still gave them my full support. Whatever happened with them, I still wanted to know.  It was probably because of the fact that ever since they had formed, Changmin was the one that continuously caught my eye.  He was more like a normal human being compared to the other four, but he was still a step or two above the average.  Sighing, I reluctantly looked back at the other three—who were still conversing—before ping my backpack.  However, the sound that it made caused the three to shut up and stare in my direction.  Not sure how to respond to gaining stares from the three people I detested the most, I gave them a look as if to say “well…?” and went back to pulling out my notebook.  

                “Who is she?  I thought I heard that she had connections to the chairman, is that right?” the goat man—or Junsu—questioned the other two.  Pausing at the fact that they were about to start gossiping about me like little old ladies, I waited for them to respond to the question poised.  However, only silence had been the response, and I continued in the search for a pencil.  Smiling at my victory, I shut my bag and searched around for a table like the other, more cramped, airplanes held.  Grimacing at the thought that I was possibly looking like a fool, I stopped with a sigh.  Huffing out, I placed the notebook on my lap and opened it up to start writing.  As I had my pencil poised to write, a snort burst through the place, forcing me to look up.  The three had been staring at me with identical looks on each of their faces.  It was as if they thought that I shouldn’t be there in the first place, and in truth, I didn’t want to be there any more than they did. 

                Biting my tongue before I said something utterly rude in Korean, I turned away and looked out the window, my hands clutching tightly onto my opened notebook.  These next thirteen hours or so would probably become the death of me.  After I had thought such a thing, the plane started and the two attendants personally went to the four of us describing the usual procedure.  When I had been reached, the two exchanged looks, the one who got me glaring at the other who got to describe the procedure to the capped man—or Jaejoong.  With that, the attendant turned back to me and began speaking down to me in English as if I wasn’t worthy of Korean. 

                “Excuse me, but I understand Korean perfectly enough,” I interrupted, speaking in Korean, growing more and more peeved with their service.  The woman then stopped in her tracks for a few seconds before starting again, using informal speech.  Appalled, I tilted my head and peered closer at her.  “I know that I’m younger than you, but this is an airplane and we are strangers, now aren’t we? Why are you talking so informally? Just because I speak English without a Korean accent doesn’t mean I’m not Korean.  Look at me, I definitely don’t look American…or mixed for that matter.  Anyways, you can go, I know the routine already,” I snapped and turned away from her.  Looking like she was hurt from the fact that I had spoken so bluntly, she gave me a ninety degree bow and shuffled away. 

                The other attendant—shocked that I knew Korean—softly pointed out the different aspects of the upgraded system that I received.  Grateful to finally know where the “table” was, I thanked her and shoved my notebook back into my bag for the take-off.

                Once in the air, I pulled out the table and plucked my notebook and pencil from my bag once more.  Ignoring the other three who had been staring at me skeptically since my outburst, I buried myself into composing a song.  I would probably have to wait until I could somehow find a guitar in Seoul for a cheap price to actually create music to it.  Tapping out a certain rhythm, I smiled to myself and poised my pen to begin writing.  However, the song was jarred from me when the flight attendant I had snapped at squealed in joy.  Closing my eyes for a few moments to try and calm myself down, I looked up and watched as Junsu quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper for the woman.  At that moment, a thought raced through my mind about how if I had been close with either Yunho or Changmin I’d be pleading for them to take me away as quickly as they could.  I never expected that people who were supposed to act professional at all times would drop it so quickly just to fan over someone famous.

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                The rest of the flight had been long and boring.  Each time a song hit my head, the flight attendants’ loud voices made such thoughts scatter without a trace.  By the end, I was ready to punch something, or scream in frustration.  I couldn’t rest my eyes for a matter of time either, for the three were giving major fan service to the two and it drove me insane.  All I was able to do was sit and let the events of the day process through my mind so many times that I was now pissed off at everything.  What was with my luck?  If there was such a thing as past lives, I probably would have been some extremely evil villain of some hero’s story. 

                Even if I had despised the three, they didn’t even talk to me one time.  They never truly acknowledged that I was a human being, they only made it clear that they that I was simply there.  Maybe it was because they were busy attending to their fan girls, or maybe it was because I wasn’t fawning over them like most girls would.  In truth, for those thirteen or so hours, I had a few urges to do so here and there, since I couldn’t deny that they were inhumanely handsome. 

                “Thank God,” I muttered under my breath once it was announced that we were about to land.  I quickly put the table away and clutched my backpack to my chest.  The plane landing meant that I would be in Korea, which meant that I could get away from this awful situation, which also meant that I had finally left my mother in America.  The last thought forced a gasp to pass my lips as I thought about the situation once again.  Before I knew it, my breath shortened and I felt like I was about to pass out.  I actually got to Korea without my mother appearing to stop me.  My stomach clenching painfully, I squeezed my eyes shut to force the feeling to go away.  It would be just perfect if I started to have a panic attack in front of these people who obviously had no inkling to care for me.

                Breathing a sigh of relief once it was under control, I sat up straight and waited for the signal that we could get off the plane.  It took about ten minutes before something new happened.  As the panic was about to boil up inside me once more, the signal went off, causing it to subside once more.  Rapidly taking off my seatbelt, I stood up and stepped away from the chair, eager to get out of the plane to find my way to my uncles’ house.  However, as I had done just that, I accidentally rammed into the third person to JYJ that I had barely taken notice of—Yoochun.  Not sure what to do, I stepped back and waited for him to move on. 

                “Even in America they apologize for doing that,” he muttered with a slight glare before heading on.  Junsu’s upper lip rose in defiance as he passed me to follow after the other.  Their actions had caused my stomach to unpleasantly clench.  Not liking my own reaction, I finally headed on after them.  All the while, I berated myself for my actions and thoughts that had been going on a roller coaster for the past thirteen hours with them. 

                In the process of heading towards the baggage claim, I had stumbled across millions of the group’s fans screaming to their heart’s content.  Focusing on containing the urge to cringe in disgust, I bowed my head and continued on, until someone’s arm casually draped over my shoulders.  Heart racing with fear since not many Koreans did that to random stranger, my fist automatically went up to defend myself.  Hearing a loud gasp and shrieks of horror, I winced and turned towards the person I hit.  As I noticed that I had hit Jaejoong in the eye, my eyes widened in horror.  Regardless of my awful action, he produced a smile that practically melted all of his fans. 

                Before I could learn what his true motives were, I spun on my heel and dashed off towards the baggage claim, brushing past Yoochun and Junsu along the way.  After I had approached the place I was to wait for my suitcase, a couple of reporters instantly ran up to me spitting out questions.  Knowing that this factor had been my fault for accidentally hitting Jaejoong, I bowed my head feeling defeated.  All of this was growing too much for me to bear.  The entire day’s events added up along with jet lag really wasn’t what I called an ideal day. 

                Upon finding my suitcase, I turned around to even more reporters with their microphones poised for me to speak into it.  Shuddering at the sight, I tried to ignore them, but they continued to pressure me to answer their many questions.

                “Look! All I wanted was a change from a terrible day! But for some reason I was placed on a plane with that group! I have no care for them!  When they were in DBSK, I loved them to death and I idolized them.  But now that they were gutless and didn’t choose to stay and keep the image that they worked so hard on creating, I can’t stand them!  They ruined the group, and they’re just continuing to ruin themselves, now let me go in peace! To me, they’re nothing but lowly human beings. They once were gods, but now they’re fallen angels groveling in the dirt,” I snapped in Korean before shoving past them and out of the airport to find my own way to my uncles’ home.