Chapter 10  Don't Just Leave Like This

 

I crouch low on the steps and call the police.

"Someone is being beaten up," I say urgently. "Hurry, hurry here and stop it."

I give them the address, and peer cautiously to see what's happening.

They've got hold of a pole, and they're beating him with it, as he lies unmoving on the ground.

I feel a rush of rage, and I'm up, and running to him. I throw myself over his body, and scream at them.

"Stop it! Get away from him!" I scream. "Leave him alone!"

The men turn and leave, much to my relief. They've probably figured out that I've called the police. 

"Moo young," I call frantically. "Moo young."

He doesn't respond. 

His face is a bloodied mess; his eyes are swollen shut, and there's blood all over his face.

At the hospital, I'm trying my best to provide a detailed description of the attackers, but it's just so hard, because it was dark, and nobody really stood out. The nice policeman keeps asking me questions about the attackers, but I can't answer his questions, and after a while  he gives up, and tells me that he'll be back to question Moo young once he wakes up.

"Can we bring charges against the attackers?" I ask.

"Yes," he nods. "The victim needs to file a police report in order to bring charges and sue his attackers."

The police officer leaves, and I'm left alone with Moo young.

I sit at his bedside.

His face is so badly bruised and cut and swollen beyond recognition. He's in a neck brace, so they've probably torn something in there as well.

My cheeks are wet. I hadn't realized that I was crying.

I close my eyes, because I'm so very tired, and drained, and relieved that he's okay. If I hadn't appeared when I did, would they have beaten him to death? I feel cold at the thought.

I lay my head on the bed, and place my hand next to his, where it lies, limp and still, against the edge of the blanket, and gradually, I feel its warmth radiating to, and seeping into my icy, frozen fingers.

You are alive.

Nothing else matters but that you are alive.

I startle awake. 

The phone is ringing.

I must have dozed off.

It's Jin kook; I'd totally forgotten to tell him that I would be held up. He must be worried sick.

I glance at Moo young. He's hasn't woken up, and is lying still, in the same position.

I get up, and hurry outside the room to take the call.

"Where are you?" Jin kook's yelling. "Why aren't you back yet? It's 2 am!"

"I'm sorry, oppa," I say. "I had to work late, and I forgot to tell you."

"You should have told me if you're working late," he rants. "Do you know how worried I've been?"

"Sorry, oppa," I say.

I return to the room, and stop in shock.

He's gone.

The covers have been thrown aside, and the bed's empty.

I walk to his place and knock on the door.

He opens it.

Without a word, he turns, and I follow him inside.

He drags a chair over to me with some effort.

"Take a seat," he says, and the words come out slurred, because his lips are so swollen.

I feel a surge of rage.

"How could you just leave the hospital like that?" I yell. "Go back to the hospital. The doctor said that you should rest."

He sits gingerly on a chair, smiles at me, and winces.

It makes me madder.

"Who did it? Who attacked you?" I say, my voice trembling with anger.

"You know, I'm wondering who they are as well," he says mildly.

He's driving me nuts.

He's looking at me through his horrific, puffy lids, but they can't hide the gleam in his eyes. He looks almost happy.

"Why did you show up here?" he asks. "Why are you here?"

He looks searchingly at me.

I look away.

I'm here at 3.00 am in the morning because I was worried sick about you.

Aloud, I say, "The policeman said that you need to file a police report before you can sue your attackers."

His lips curve a little, as if he knows what I'm really thinking, what I'm really answering inside my head. 

"Why should I sue them?" he says. "They were only doing their job. It makes more sense to go after the person who hired them, don't you think?"

"Fine," I say. "Whatever. Do whatever you want. I don't care."

I'm so frustrated and so mad.

I turn to leave.

With one swift, lightning motion, he reaches out his hand and grabs my arm.

"Don't just leave like this," he says lightly, smoothly; the niceties tripping off his tongue easily, a good host saying all the right things to a guest who's about to leave. "Have some cake before you go." 

I look into his eyes, and they are liquid pools of fire, belying the mundaneness, the normalcy of the words that he has just spoken.

His long, strong fingers coil around my arm, tightly, possessively.

I pull away from his grasp, and walk out without a word.

I'm outside.

I fight for air.

I can't breathe.

I lean against the wall to steady myself.

My arm tingles with the memory of his touch, of that hand imprisoning my arm, as if it belonged to him, as if he would never let it go.

He knew.

He knew that I had to force myself to leave; because deep down inside, I wanted...I wanted to stay...

The next day, I make my way to the police station.

I catch sight of a porridge restaurant, and pause.

I remember his swollen lips. It must hurt to chew and swallow.

At the police station, I check to see if Moo young has filed a police report.

He hasn't.

"Could a witness lodge a police report on his behalf?" I ask.

"Yes, you can," the policeman says. "A witness can lodge a report on an incident, but the victim has to file a police report in order to initiate a lawsuit." 

I stop at the porridge restaurant, and buy a takeaway bowl of porridge. I walk to the rooftop, and leave it next to his door.

I'm on a date with Cho rong.

We look at rental bicycles. We rent a bicycle for two. He sits in front of me and pedals it.

The date passed in a blur. I can't remember what we talked about, or how long we rode, because my mind was filled with Moo young, and the blood pouring down his face, and his swollen lips, and him smiling at me, and grabbing my arm, and saying, "Have some cake before you leave", and his eyes blazing with heat.

After the ride Cho rong turns to me, and beams.

"Remember that I said that I had a list of things that I want to do with you? Well, it's a list of 100 things, actually, and riding a bicycle for two is one of them." 

He smiles sweetly at me.

He holds out his hand to me, and I remember Moo young stretching out his hand, and those fingers closing around my arm.

I force the memory out of my head.

Determinedly, I take Cho rong's hand.

There is a product launch event at Arts Brewery, and our design team has been invited.

They've put up our posters at the lobby. 

"We did an awesome job," Ms. Hwang whispers. "They look stunning."

Ms. Hwang claps her hands in delight, and So yeon and I beam with pride, and hug each other.

We have been given a table in the middle, and I'm sitting there and looking around when Moo young saunters past me.

He sits at a table toward the front, where the stage is, a few tables from me. 

Our eyes meet.

He looks pale, but the cuts have healed, leaving a few dark bruises. His lips look better, too, and his eyes are no longer half-closed beneath swollen lids, and they are staring at me across the tables, unblinking and shuttered.

Woo sang comes up on stage and the audience breaks into applause, except for Moo young. I know, because I'm watching him.

Woo sang delivers his welcoming speech. Moo young stares fixedly at him, and raises his glass of water to him in a silent toast.

Woo sang falters, but resumes speaking after a pause. He seems flustered, unlike his usual cool and collected self.

Ms. Hwang stares at Woo sang, and then turns to me.

"Jin kang, you should get all of the design work for NJ Group," she jokes.

I laugh, but the laughter dies on my lips, when the man seated next to Woo sang turns around.

I know that face.

He was there that night Moo young was beaten up.

I had collided with him in my hurry to get to Moo young. He had been standing at the bottom of the steps leading to the rooftop. 

"Sorry," I had mumbled. 

"It's okay," he had replied, and I had seen his full face in the light of the streetlamp.

He works for Woo sang.

I feel a chill.

Woo sang had sent those men to beat up Moo young.

He had hired them to hurt Moo young.

An image arose in my mind, of Moo young speaking lightly, almost nonchalantly, through swollen, broken lips.

"They were only doing their job."

"It makes more sense to go after the person who hired them, don't you think?"

Alarmed, I glance at Moo young.

He is staring fixedly at Woo sang, and his eyes are blank, unblinking.

I feel a shiver of dread go through me.

Woo sang has finished his speech. People are chatting, and drinking, some at their tables; others standing, conversing, smiling. 

Everyone is having a good time, except for the two men outside the glass doors.

Woo sang is standing back to me, and I can't see his face.

Moo young is standing facing me, but his face is in the shadows.

They are standing very close to each other, deep in conversation.

Woo sang turns, and I see a smirk on his face.

He walks away.

Moo young turns.

I see his face, unguarded, for a fleeting moment; it's tense, rigid, unsmiling.

He catches sight of me.

His face relaxes at once, and his eyes light up, and he smiles, warmly, boyishly, at me. 

I walk to him.

"Woo sang did it," I say. "He hired those men, didn't he?"

He doesn't say anything, but just stands still, looking down at me.

"What did you talk about?" I ask, and I hear the thread of rising panic in my voice. "Tell me what you talked about. I want to know what you talked about."

"You're worried about me," he says softly, his eyes tender. "I'm touched that you care."

He smiles ruefully, crinkling his eyes, and looks contemplative for a while.

"I wanted to provoke him," he says lightly, as if it's of no importance, and laughs. "But it looks like the tables have turned, and he's got the upper hand. Who'd have guessed that?" And he laughs again, sounding genuinely amused.

My phone rings.

It's Ms. Hwang.

"We're leaving," she says. "Are you coming with us?"

"Okay," I say. "I'm coming."

I turn to Moo young.

He's smiling at me.

"Yes, you should go," he says softly. "Your being here puts me at a disadvantage."

I walk away, aware of his lingering gaze on my back.

I walk with Ms. Hwang and So yeon to the car, but stop when we reach it.

"Ms. Hwang, I'm sorry," I say. "I can't leave with you. I - there's something that I've to do."

I run back to the building.

A car drives past me.

It's Seung ah's car.

She's behind the wheel, and Moo young's sitting next to her.

Another car speeds past me, close behind.

Woo sang's behind the wheel. 

I catch a glimpse of his eyes.

They are glittering with rage and madness.

I stand there, rooted to the spot, watching the two cars disappear into the night.

It starts to rain, a steady drizzle.

I feel a sense of dread. It builds in me until I can't stand it any longer.

I walk to Moo young's place and knock on his door. I keep knocking and knocking, but no one answers.

The rain turns into a downpour and the wind lashes the rooftop.

I take out my phone and call him.

I wait.