I ducked into one of the stalls of the girl’s restroom a few seconds before I heard the door open again. Curious, I flushed the toilet without having used it, carefully noting the strange little trash can next to it, and exited the stall.

A pretty girl with short blond hair and heavy eye makeup was standing at the sink, washing her delicate hands and talking in Korean with a much taller, brown-haired girl. Both were wearing simple, yet gorgeous dresses and heels.

For a second, I was dumbstruck, and I just stared without saying a word.

How the heck could they be so skinny?

The taller girl’s knees were touching as she stood, but her thighs weren’t. One of her thighs was about the same circumference as one of my wrists. Her waist was ridiculously small. The blond-haired girl had wrists and hands that displayed every beautifully delicate bone, and collarbones that sharply contrasted her sternum and thin neck.

Yes, I was insanely jealous. Who wouldn’t be?

The blond girl, having spotted me in the mirror as she was reaching for a paper towel, turned and looked at me in surprise. Her lips, looking a bit collagen-injected, moved to ask me, “Who are you?” in Korean.

Thank you, Sungmin, for teaching me how to understand rapid Korean. “My name is Taryn,” I carefully pronounced in the given tongue, grimacing at my accent. “Who are you?”

The tall girl narrowed her eyes cautiously at me, reaching for a paper towel, and said something a bit too fast for me to catch. I think it was something like, “You don’t know who we are?” The blond girl started edging towards the door, a fake-looking smile on her face.

Were they scared of me? Crap, they probably thought I was some freaky, insane, out-of-control fangirl. I opened my eyes wide and raised my hands a bit, trying to convey innocence, as I tried to say, “I’m a foreigner. I don’t know you.” But I think it came out like, “Me foreigner. No know.”

The two exchanged a glance and visibly relaxed. The blond girl beamed a real, genuine smile at me as the tall girl threw away her paper towel. The blond bowed and said, “Hello, I’m So Nyuh She Day-ee Sunny!”

Holy crap, that’s a long name, I thought, just before the tall girl recited, “Hello, I’m So Nyuh She Day-ee Sooyoung! Where are you from?”

I smiled shyly. “Hi.” Why do they have the same first name? What kind of a name is So Nyuh She Day-ee? “I’m a Canadian person.”

“Canadian? You speak English?”

I nodded. “I speak English. I speak a little Korean.”

Before they could ask me another question, such as if I was related to a certain Canadian named Henry Lau, we all heard raised voices coming from either the lobby or the photo room. The two So Nyuh She Day-ee’s exchanged a worried glance and exited the bathroom, not bothering to see if I was following. I slipped out behind them and into the photo room.

Of course. My sabotage.

The manager person who had kicked me out earlier was standing by the four waterlogged cameras, red-faced and waving a clipboard around, surrounded by a small group of idols and cameramen. (It was easy to tell the difference; the wrinkly cameramen were wearing black, and the dolled-up idols were wearing fancy, bright clothes.) He screamed something at the crowd and slammed his clipboard on the ground in anger, then stomped off, the group parting like the Red Sea to let him through.

I felt a hand on my shoulder in the midst of the mild confusion. “Four cameras were sabotaged,” I heard Alex murmur in my ear, her soft breath ruffling my hair. “Siwon, one of the Wonder Girls, one of the Big Bang boys and one of the Girl’s Generation girls were getting ready in front of the cameras, but when the cameramen were trying to turn them on, they wouldn’t work. Someone took out the memory cards and soaked the batteries in water. The manager is all stressed because those cameras can’t be used and the whole schedule is compromised. We may be here all day.”

Dang. I felt my jaw drop as I realized what I had done. Four cameras had compromised an entire day’s worth of work before it had even started. I bit my lip and tried to keep the guilt off my face as I turned to face Alex. “What’s going to happen now?” I asked quietly, worriedly.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. With those cameras not in working condition, the manager has to make a lot of things happen in a short period of time. Switch people around, make people use other cameras, condense the schedule frame, lecture the stylists, brief the camera crew.” Her gaze hardened. “I swear, if I catch who did this, I’m going to punch their lights out for wasting my boys’ precious time with this little stunt.”

My eyes widened involuntarily. “Harsh,” I muttered. Then, “Do you really think it was sabotage? Maybe one of the camera guys was just clumsy or forgetful.”

She shrugged and started walking back towards the small seating area where I had dropped my book. “That’s possible, but not very likely. These people are the best there are. It’s not likely they’d forget memory cards or ‘accidentally’ spill water all over the batteries. Even if they did, they’re smart enough to know they need to confess.” She motioned to the chair. “Just sit here and try to stay out of everyone’s way, okay? The manager is going to have enough troubles without a little Canadian girl running around as well.”

I obediently sat and picked my book up off the ground. “Okay. What are you going to do?”

She tugged on her shirt hem a bit, probably out of habit. “Go back to the styling room. See what’s happening. Stuff like that. Just, stay there, okay?”

I nodded, and then she speedwalked out of my line of sight, leaving me to my thoughts.

I settled into my chair, gazing blankly at my book as my mind started whirring, remembering. I didn’t question why the man had me destroy the cameras; he had told me himself why certain things must happen. He had repeated those words to me so many times. Oh so many times.

He gripped me by my nine-year-old shoulders and shook me harshly. “You wanna know why I had you put Whitney’s Halloween candy in Henry’s basket? Do you?”

I meekly nodded, not trusting myself to speak, wincing in pain and suppressing tears.

He sat me down harshly on the brittle grass, the moonlight casting eerie shadows over his face. He leaned in. “I’ll tell you why. Henry hates you. He’s always hated you. Haven’t you noticed? Or are you too dull to do so?”

My eyes had opened wide. “Henry… hates me?” I whispered, a tear finally escaping down my round cheek.

“Henry would do anything and everything to bring you down. He obviously prefers Whitney over you. After all, why else would he pick her up from school before you? Why else would he donate his candy and share his shirts with Whitney and not you?”

I took a shuddering breath, not wanting to believe my ears.

“You want proof? Remember a year ago, when I saved you from the boys who nearly drowned you? Where was Henry? Why had he left you and your sister alone? Why were only you taken?”

“I don’t know.” My chin quivered.

“I’ll tell you why. He told those guys to go after you and you alone. He set it up. Can’t you see? The boys only took you and not Whitney, and Henry was nowhere to be found.” He put his face right in mine. “Henry. Wanted. You. Dead.”

Droplets of saltwater chased each other down my cheeks. “H-Henry would never hurt me…”

“Girl, you are so thick!” he yelled. “Remember a few months ago when you couldn’t go to the museum with your class because you had food poisoning? Who had persuaded you to eat that last fish stick?”

When I didn’t answer, he shook me violently. “Answer me!”

I swallowed. “H-Henry did,” I whispered. “Henry said I c-could have the last o-one.”

He nodded. “And when you broke your arm a few years ago, who had tripped you?”

Sniffling, I murmured, “Henry… b-but he said-”

“Don’t you see? Henry has it in for you. The only way to make sure he doesn’t hurt you any more is to get him first. Him and all his little buddies.”

“But he’s fifteen! How am I supposed to get to him first if he’s so big and I’m so small?” I asked plaintively, my nose running.

He grinned, looking a bit like a cat ready to test its claws on something. “You’re small, cute and have a baby face. Who would suspect you of anything malicious?”

My chin wobbled a bit. “Wh-what does malicious mean?”

He my hair. “It means bad. Nobody would suspect you of doing anything bad.”

I came to the conclusion on my own. “So, by putting Whitney’s candy in Henry’s basket, everyone will blame Henry for stealing? Nobody will think it was me?”

He ran his thumb over my cheek, catching a tear. “Exactly. And you got to him before he could put Whitney’s candy in your own basket.” He smiled. “Just remember. Henry hates you, and you must do whatever it takes to get him before he gets you.”

I had hidden Henry’s wallet this morning before he could do something bad to me. I had sabotaged the cameras to get back at him and his precious Super Junior.

Henry hates me. I must never forget that.

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Hey guys. Sorry I haven't updated in, like, a month. I just haven't had a really strong urge to write like I normally do. That said, thank you all for not unsubscribing or sending hate messages or anything. I hope you like this chapter :)