Seunghyun

‘brizing, brizing’. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out with one hand while trying to lock my car with the other. I slide my finger across the screen to answer; it’s a number I don’t recognise.

“Choi Seunghyun? This is Detective Lieutenant Amy Cho speaking, from the Seoul Police Department.” It’s a woman’s voice and the instant she says ‘police department’ a shudder hits me. I know I’m the first one in both Jiyong and Taeyang’s phones and I pray that this is about a parking ticket or some trivial matter like that. ‘This is Seunghyun speaking, can I help you with something?”

“Mr Choi, I am sorry to inform you,” It hits me; one of my friends is dead, missing or injured. I hope blatantly it’s the last one but I am wrong. “That Dong Taeyang has been found dead. I realize this is a shock but we need you to tell us if there is any next of kin and if not, we need you to identify the body.”

“There is no next of kin, unfortunately. When would you like me to come to the morgue?” I am calm and co-ordinated but inside I am dying. Another of my friends is dead, probably killed in the line of work I left almost three years ago.

“If you could come to Seoul PD at 10:30 tomorrow.” It’s worded as a question but it’s really a request.

“That will be fine. Goodbye.”

“I am sorry for your loss. Good day.” She ends the phone call with the words I never wished to hear again. By this point I am up the stairs and reaching for the apartment keys in my pocket. The apartment I share with Taeyang’s partner Jiyong and my younger sister Sandara. I open the door, remove my shoes and place my laptop bag on the table.  I rub my eyes with my hands, trying to prevent the ‘tear stained’ look. I want to look collected when Dara and Jiyong get home.  

Walking through to the living room I realize that Jiyong is already home, from the shock of white blonde hair peeping over the edge of the couch. Slow, deep breaths indicate he is asleep. As I come round the edge of the couch, about to shake Jiyong’s shoulder to wake him, I notice long, brown black hair. There is a girl curled up on Jiyong’s lap. Her arms are around his neck and his circling her back. Jiyong is shirtless and you can see the numerous scars from his job covering his chest. I crane in, trying to see if I know this girl, if she’s one of Jiyong’s many repeated ‘fling’ girls or a newbie.

She damn well better not be one of his assorted flings because sitting on Jiyong’s lap, snuggled into his bare chest is my little sister. The sadness I had once is gone, thrown to the back of my mind. It is replaced with intense anger. The one thing I made very clear to my friend is that no matter how many girls he brings home (and there is quite a few), my sister, gorgeous as she is, is OFF LIMITS.

I stare angrily at Jiyong, knowing he can’t stand having eyes on him that he can’t see. Even when he’s asleep if you stare at him long enough, he’ll wake up. It works, within two minutes my soon to be badly injured friend is roused, flicking his bright blue eyes open and about to tell me off for staring at him. I motion to keep quiet and his annoyance is obvious for a few, brief seconds before he registered who exactly was sitting on his lap and just how angry I was. I mouth ‘Do you have any idea what you are doing?’ and he in turn replies the same way.

“Help me get her into bed.” It then clicks what he’s just said, backs up and rephrases. “Put her into bed, because she’s asleep.”

Jiyong turns, supporting Dara and with my help picks her up, cradled against him with her head lolling unconsciously onto his shoulder. He walks backwards towards her door, pushes it open and as I stand in the doorway, places her into bed and pulls the covers over her.

Dara begins to wake up, “humph, Jiyong? My beds cold, come back, you’re warm.” I can’t stand it anymore and walk out, back into the kitchen/dining room. Jiyong shuts the door to Dara’s room and grabs a hoodie from the laundry as he passes, pulling it over his head as he sits down.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW ANGRY I AM RIGHT NOW?” My yell fills the apartment and I don’t really care if Dara wakes up. “YOU WERE ASLEEP ON THE COUCH, WITH MY SISTER IN YOUR BLOODY LAP, HALF FRICKING , FOR GODS SAKE.”

“I can explain…”

I cut him off. Does it look like I want to hear an explanation right now? “ONE RULE GD. ONE RULE AND YOU GO AND BREAK IT. Taeyang’s dead, you're sleeping with my sister, what the hell else could you screw up?”

“Do not blame Taeyang’s death on me. Don’t you dare.” This is the voice Jiyong brings out when people don’t listen to him. It’s harsh, unbending and uncompromising. “You and I both know how dangerous the job is, so did Taeyang. He made the choice to come with me down the docks and although it is awful it is not my fault he’s dead. Secondly I did not sleep with your sister, she chose to fall asleep on me and I happened to not be fully dressed at the time. You know that’s the one thing that I can’t stop myself from doing.”

He’s right, unfortunately. Taeyang’s death is not his fault and the only reason he is still sane right now is probably because of what Dara’s done. She knows too, that Jiyong has to be touched, has to be loved if we want him balanced. She’s done the right thing here, touching him, hugging him. It’s probably the only reason he’s still rational. I can tell though, from the way he looks as if something’s going to attack him and the way he’s measuring exits in his head that he needs more. I can also tell the only reason he held back is because she’s my sister, and his regard for me is higher than his need for skin ship.

“Seunghyun, calm down. Hey, hey, you’re ok.” I haven’t noticed, during Jiyong’s well-controlled outburst, that there are tears dripping down my cheeks. He is hugging me now, drawing calming circles on my back and I just collapse on him, crying my heart out. My weakness is that I care too much, I care for Jiyong like a brother, the same way I cared for Taeyang. It hurts so much to have him taken away and what for? Some stupid drugs or unlicensed guns.

“The world isn’t fair Jiyong. It should be but it isn’t. Taeyang’s dead because some stupid gang lord didn’t want his drugs confiscated.” I wipe my eyes and am released from Jiyong’s thoughtful embrace. “What gang?”

“Forgotten Promises.” Jiyong watches me closely, knowing what the words he has spoken will do. Images and sounds run through my mind, gunshots, pain, watching Jiyong’s girlfriend at the time, Lee Chaerin, die after being stabbed and watching my own girlfriend, Park Bom, get shot. Jiyong’s blocked out the painful memories of Chaerin and what happened that night, almost three years ago.  It was the same night I quit freelance detective work and turned to working on films and part time song writing. My partner at the time, a close friend called Daesung, returned to the police department and is now a ‘higher-up’. He pulls the strings to make sure ‘lancers’, or freelance detective’s get, if not the recognition, then at least the pay of a detective.

“They need to go down Ji. They killed Chaerin, shot Bom and me and hurt us both.” I stand tall now, hoping the entirety of Jiyong’s rather impressive rage will be rained upon the Promises.

“That’s the gang that killed Chaerin? I never knew what they were called.” A softer voice cuts through our discussion. Dara’s awake and she’s just heard something I don’t think she’ll ever forget. She shoots me a smile, but it’s fringed with pain. Chaerin was her best friend and Jiyong and I tried to hide as much information about her death as we could from Dara. 

“We couldn’t tell you at the time. We didn’t want you to get all riled up.” Jiyong’s playing damage control now.

“You couldn’t tell me cause you knew I’d try to find the gang. You also managed to avoid telling me that it was a case that BOTH of you were working. That it was the case that made you quit, TOP, and sent Ji on a spiral of endless, pointless girlfriends he doesn’t give a damn about.” Dara stormed around the room, getting more and more stressed.

“That is not fair. I do so give a damn about… most of those girls. 90% of the time.” Jiyong shrugged and tried to lighten the mood with humour. “I can’t help if I’m eye candy, it’s a struggle sometimes, it really is.” His attempt lasted a few seconds then Dara’s mood returned.

“So by not telling me, you just let me run around wondering what case shattered your confidence, in yourself and your partner,” Dara pointed at me, then turned to Jiyong. “And basically destroyed any chance of you ever having any semblance of a real relationship because you now can’t live without skin ship. Why did nothing get done about this gang originally?”

Jiyong snarled at her, the first time I’ve ever seen. “Because I could barely walk outside without being reminded of her and Seunghyun was in the hospital recovering from a bullet wound and watching to see if Bom would LIVE. That is why nothing was done before. But now I’m mad as hell and those men will die for what they have done, and so they never hurt people like we’ve been hurt, again.”

“Sit down both of you. Family meeting. Now.” I’ve had enough of dancing around the damn issue and want something sorted. They both sit silently, knowing this tone of mine and they know they both better damn do what I say or they’ll be in hell for weeks.

“I’m going after them.” Jiyong makes his opinions clear as day.

“You need a partner. This last movie is finished so I have six months until the next movie starts. I’m back in the game, for this job only.” I won’t let my best friend go this alone.

“That’s cool guys, leave me out again. Just because I’m the only girl and I’m your little sister.” Dara butts in, arms crossed and elbows sitting on the table. “I will not be left out this time.”

“No.” I say. I will protect her from the dark world I have just stepped back into.

“Don’t leave her out because she’s your sister. Wipe that from the equation. Why else can’t she do it?” Jiyong has his feet on my table again and as I push them off I consider his point.

“You can’t shoot. You have no idea about police work. You aren’t strong enough to handle the stuff we are going to be dealing with and you don’t have a background in police or forensics. No.” I am right and eventually Dara will see this and back off the issue.

“Jiyong can teach me to shoot, he taught Chaerin and she was afraid of guns to start with, at least I’ve grown up around them. I have an idea about police work, thank you very much. Oh ex-police brother, whom I live with, his best friend, also ex-police, now freelance, also, whom I live with, all your damn friends are either police or ex-police. Our father was police, grandfather was police, don’t tell me I don’t know damn police work. Now think back about whose university degree is in both medicine and forensics. I am strong enough, as you can tell from the fact I’ve been patching both of you up for going on five years now.” Dara beat me hands down. I forgot about her degrees and the fact that our father taught us both to deal with guns when we were younger.

“Fine. But don’t walk into this un-prepared. I warned you.” I grit my teeth and give her the words she’s been waiting for. Unexpectedly there is no joyous shout of approval, merely a nod of compliance.