IT HAS BEEN two weeks since Jiyong’s dog was murdered and the news still cant shut up about it. Worse, netizens are now criticizing him for attending a fashion event. So now, annoyed and lying low, he is stuck at his house, managing his businesses through phone and writing songs. Oh, he almost forgot, he is stuck with his bodyguard for seven days now.

He is bored out of his wits, having too little to nothing recreation is draining his creative juices; Jiyong is having difficulty stringing words together like he used to. He sighed and closed his Mac, jumped to the bed and closed his eyes.

Dara. For the life of him, even the emotions he poured over his failed relationship seems like a distant memory. All gone to dust, completely out of his system. It feels like eons ago, he used to just float around with his work, not truly living; his mere existence suddenly flawed by overwhelming sadness. It is quite baffling how now he doesn’t feel a thing. Ah the mysteries of life. Maybe I should write about that.

He shook his head and picked on his neck tattoo. He is really not in the mood to write but also lazy to go out. Speaking of going out, Jiyong wondered about Mishil, her job; she must be bored too. Imagine staying 24/7 in a stranger’s house. Though he gave her a room to stay, she seldom use it, always staying by the kitchen or the living room. Plus she is a woman, they have all sort of stuffs to worry about like shaving and menstruatio— Geez, how did my thoughts come to this?

But Jiyong is legit curious about her. His goal to make her quit completely forgotten. Mishil is a professional, she doesn’t bother him at all. To an extent which Jiyong even wish she would. I am going crazy.

His musing was interrupted by his buzzing phone. He read the message with a frown. Here we go again with the annoying texts. Someone has been sending him creepy ones, most of those read: “Honey, did you eat already?” “Babe please call. I miss you.” “I saw you a while ago. Please look at me too.” “Are you home?”

He can’t tell if its one person, the messages always come from different numbers. Is it that sasaeng? He cant tell. Speaking of which, he suddenly remember an important thing. Jiyong quickly put on pants and went out of his room.

The top of Mishil’s head greeted him. She is leaning over papers scattered on the kitchen table.

“Do you have to go out?” she asked, eyes still glued to whatever she’s reading. He wonders if she is still annoyed at him for getting her name wrong at the fashion show.

Jiyong is a conceited son of a but sometimes his bodyguard intimidates him, specially when she is focused with something. Mishil’s whole being oozes authority, like right now. He felt like a schoolboy interrupting his school principal. And her hair— the color made it worse. He felt kinda hot. Jesus Christ!

Why did I come out again? Oh.

“No. I just remembered something that I think was quite important.” Mishil looked up at last.

“What is it?”

“One of my shirts is missing.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and?” Maybe it was a bad idea to mention it.

“I mean, why are you so worried? Don’t you have like a thousand unused shirts in your closet.”

“It was here before I went to America.”

“What do you— Damn. You sure?!”

“Yes! I checked. Noticed it last week. Just forgot to mention it.” Relief washed over him when she finally got the reason for his concern.

“Did the police missed something?”

“Beats me. I wasn’t here yet during the investigation.” He shrugged. He opened the fridge to get a bottle of water and the contents of Mishil’s files caught his attention. He saw pictures of crime scenes before she whipped it out of sight. What the hell is she working on?

“Mind if I check it out?” She stood up, her petite frame threatening his personal space. He nodded and got out of the way.

Jiyong watched as Mishil scrutinized his room inside out. She meticulously checked his closet after, feeling corners and patting the boards like a crime scene tech, much like what they do in movies. He gulped a mouthful of water when she reached for the bottom drawer. Too late. She maintained a nonchalant expression upon seeing his collection of female underwear. His cheek colored with embarrassment. Why do women love to leave him that kind of ‘souvenir’? Its not like he asked for it. They just do? He made a mental note to throw it all out as soon as possible.

“I see nothing out of the ordinary. Found no bugs too. Maybe I should ask Taehyung to do a bug sweep just to be safe.” She thought out loud.

Jiyong didn’t respond. He watched her run her fingers through his hanged shirts in silence.

“Are you sure you remember correctly?”

“Yes. I do. It is a special shirt.”

“Special? That shirt mean anything to you?”

“That shirt was given to me by my mom as a gift on my 20th birthday. I wore it for my first ever radio broadcast.” That answer seemed to hook Mishil’s interest.

“Do you remember anything out of the ordinary about that day? Have you met someone new?”

“I don’t think so? Some fans where watching that day.”

“They can watch a radio show?” She looked puzzled. She is really clueless with all these things isn’t she? I wonder what was her hobbies when she was younger.

“Of course. Its quite normal. Selected fans could view the whole show through the glass. They even wait outside after the taping.”

“That . Here I thought we will have something to look into.”

“Why?” It’s Jiyong’s turn to be confused.

“Well, you see. Stalking usually start from the most random encounter, even a simple blank look to you could mean something else for a deluded and sick person. Knowing that your stalker actually risked getting caught inside your house just to steal that item means that shirt represents something important with your relationship. What it is, we have to find out. Sadly, its not an easy task, even the remotest contact could mean a lot for them.” She explained.

Jiyong was left speechless. The graveness of his current situation slowly sinking in to his stubborn brain. He walked over to the bedside table and opened a pack.

“Mind if I light a cig?”

“Not at all.” Mishil shrugged.

“How do you know all these?” Jiyong asked, trying to appear as casual as possible despite the surmounting curiosity towards the feisty woman in front of him. “I mean, you sound like you know more than usual.”

“Well, I studied Psychology in college.” Mishil looked surprised with the shift of interest but obliged. “And I was a detective for 5 years. Saw a lot of cases like this. You have no idea how normal stalking is in our country. And by that I mean everyone, not just celebs.”

“Whoah. You were a policewoman! That explains it.” Jiyong gasped.

“Explains what?”

“Ah, nothing.” He grinned at her. For the first time since they met. Mishil took a second to process his smile. She looked confused. Quite lost how to respond back. Cute.

. Jiyong silently lectured himself. This sudden change baffled him. I really need to get laid. That’s it. I just need to get laid.

“Errr— we better look into that radio show guesting of yours. Maybe we’ll find something.” Mishil veered back to their original topic.

“Right. I’m sure there’s a video of it somewhere. Will ask Changyuk-hyung to find it.” He agreed, puffing a smoke in the air. The atmosphere in the room is now thick with awkwardness, both of them just standing looking lost.

Classical music suddenly filled the air, Jiyong frowned looking for the source of the sound until Mishil reached inside her jacket pocket. Interesting taste.

“Excuse me.” She smiled thinly to his direction before answering.

“Hello. Yes. Really? Damn it. I want in.” Jiyong felt entertained watching her monosyllabic banter with whoever is on the line. Her curse strangely appealing to hear.

Mishil eyed Jiyong meaningfully, her lips unknowingly pouting. What’s her problem now? Dang. She’s cute.

“Where are you now? Wait for me.” She paused to listen. “Don’t you dare. I’ll meet you there. Asshat.” Then she laughed heartily, a side Jiyong never saw from her. The transformation in her face is beautiful. He suddenly felt jealous of the person she is talking to. Really Jiyong?

Mishil put the phone back inside her pocket, unconsciously stomping her feet lightly.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, amused.

“Uhm. Yeah. I need to leave for an hour or two. Will you be okay? I’ll call Changyuk.”

“No need if its just for a short while. I will be fine here.” An irrational part of Jiyong wanted to stop her but he realized she needs a breather too. Whatever it is she’s set to do.

“But—”

“Don’t worry. I will call if something happens. Which I think is very unlikely. Go.”

“Alright. Promise me you’ll call. And don’t you dare leave the house. Please.” She pleaded.

“Scout’s honor.”

“Okay. See you, ahm, in a while.”

Jiyong watched her retreating back out of his room in a haze of smoke, already lonely for the lack of company.

_____

MISHIL WAS WELCOMED by coffee splattering on the dashboard. Young-bae is sitting slack jawed at the driver’s seat as she sat inside the unmarked police car.

“What the hell. Dude.” She snatched a tissue box out of the glove compartment and soaked off the dripping brown liquid.

She knew his old partner would react like this once he saw her. She’s not wrong. Thirty seconds in and he is already busting her balls. Not that she has any.

“Did u join Blackpink?!”

“Shut up.”

“It looks good on you.” He teased, biting his lips to stop his laughter.

“I said shut up before I make you.”

“Really. You look pretty and sophisticated. Not that you aren’t but most of the time you look like a military cade—.” She glared at him.

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