Day 10

 

“Dora! Dora! Dora!” her boss’s voice came echoing from his bedroom while Dara was washing the dishes. With how urgent his call sounded, Dara turned the faucet off and pulled the dishwashing gloves off her hands. She turned around just in time for her boss to come running, sweating profusely, and with a scared look in his eyes.

 

“I told you several times. My name is Dar—“

 

Jiyong put his finger on his lips to quiet her down and then pointed to the phone he was holding. Dara confused as she was stood a meter away from him and snatched his phone from him. She put the phone to her ear only to lean away from it again. She stared at her boss who gave an I-don’t-even-know-what’s-happening look.

 

She put the phone back to her ear again and endured listening to the screaming voice on the other line.

 

“YOU DON’T EVEN GO TO OUR BAND PRACTICES! AND YOU’RE STAYING WITH A GUY?! TELL ME, IS THAT THE SAME GUY WHO DRAGGED YOU LAST SATURDAY?! YAH! WHY ARE YOU NOT SPEAKING?! YAH, SANDARA PARK!?”

 

Dara sighed and gave her boss an apologetic look. “Park Bom, calm down. It’s not what you think.”

 

“Finally, you’re speaking. What’s going on?” Bom asked. Dara turned the phone to loudspeaker mode to let her boss listen. “We hardly see you around nowadays. JjangMae said you stopped going to work since last week. You don’t come to band practices and you don’t perform with us anymore. What’s up with you?”

 

“Nothing. I’m working. I’m busy,” she said.

 

“Busy? What’s making you busy?”

 

Dara stared at Jiyong who signaled her to not tell about her nature of work. She didn’t quite understand so she covered the phone’s mouthpiece and talked to him in hushed tones. “What am I supposed to tell them then?”

 

“I don’t know. Lie or something. Tell them you’re… away or something. I don’t know!” Jiyong said panicking.

 

Dara uncovered the mouthpiece and said, “I’m… away, very far away.”

 

Jiyong buried his face on to his palms.

 

“Away? Can’t you be more specific?”

 

“I’m at the province… to… to…” she trailed off and stared at Jiyong for help. He pointed to his mind. “...to think!” she said and realized it didn’t quite make sense so she quickly added. “To think of things alone. I need some alone time.”

 

“Why do you need alone time? Are you going through something?” Bom asked, concern filling her voice.

 

Dara felt guilty lying to them but she needed to. “Not really. Bom, I just need to be alone for a while. Please, don’t worry about me. I’m in good hands.”

 

“Good hands meaning the guy who dragged you away?”

 

“No. he’s… he’s…” she trailed off again and panicked. However, when she turned to Jiyong for help again, he was panicking more than her – pacing back and forth, biting his nails, ruffling his hair. “He’s my personal bodyguard. Don’t worry,” she said, stifling her laughter as Jiyong stared at her in disbelief.

 

“Bodyguard? How can you even afford a bodyguard? You and I both kno—“

 

“Park Bom, I love you and Chaerin and Minzy. Take care! Don’t worry about me,” she said her goodbye before hanging up the phone. After she did, she laughed loudly.

 

“Bodyguard? What was that about?” Jiyong screamed.

 

“It’s for the better. At least they won’t be suspicious. I can’t even believe they didn’t recognize you. They’re such big fans,” Dara said, going back to the kitchen to finish the dishes. “Why did she even call, I wonder?”

 

“She was texting me numerous times. They looked like death threats so I replied,” Jiyong explained, leaning on the counter a meter away from her.

 

Dara stared at him in disbelief. “Death threats? Why did you even reply?”

 

“I want her to stop. I was planning to change my phone anyways,” Jiyong said. “And you won’t even believe what the content of her text was.”

 

“Humor me,” Dara said.

 

“Here it goes: YAH! Where are you? Tell me where you are. I want to talk to you personally and ask you numerous questions. Or if not, I am so going to wrap a wire around your neck, wring it until there’s no blood left, and throw you into the Han River. Where is my sweetheart? Give her back to me.”

 

Dara laughed. “She’s calling me sweetheart again. She must miss me so much,” she said. “She’s always like that. I’m actually used to her ‘death threats’. What did you tell her then?”

 

“This one: What are you talking about? If you want to say something, meet me in the court instead of sending me these senseless texts,” he read.

 

Dara nodded, amazed at how mature he sounded in the text compared to the real him.

 

“And then my phone rang,” he continued. “I was prepared to handle it in a mature way but then the first thing I heard was her ear-splitting voice. She was literally screaming I couldn’t even understand a word she said. I just heard your name and figured it might be you she needed.”

 

“So, you know my name. Why do you keep on calling me Dora then?” Dara asked, finishing the dishes.

 

“I’m hungry. Fetch me something to eat,” Jiyong evaded, much to Dara’s dismay.

 

As Dara brought a sandwich and a glass of juice to the table, Jiyong started munching on it immediately. “How did she even have my number?”

 

“It was her phone I used to call you days ago when I was asking for the job. She must have seen it on the call logs and figured she could reach me through that number.”

 

“So, it was your fault!” he said, pointing at her with his accusatory finger.

 

“It wasn’t. I didn’t do it on purpose anyway,” she said, shrugging. “I didn’t foresee this coming. I didn’t know you will give me those conditions forbidding me to go out of this jail. If not for those stupid conditions, I could have met with them and they won’t call you.”

 

“Yeah, blame it on me! Why did you even use her phone? Why not yours?”

 

Dara gave him a deadpan expression. “I don’t have a phone.”

 

Jiyong’s eyes widened. “WHAT?! We’re living in the 21^st century with gadgets controlling the world. Why do you not have a phone?”

 

“I’m a poor maid,” Dara said, shrugging and turning around. “I’m from a province where gadgets do not matter like here in Seoul. In Busan, we can live without these so-called smartphones.”

 

“Unbelievable. Just how poor are you exactly?” Jiyong asked.

 

Dara glared at him. Before she could even wrap her fingers around his neck, she left the kitchen and went to the living room. She didn’t have any tasks for that night anymore so she could rest. But even if she was already sitting comfortably on the sofa, she couldn’t shake off the anger she felt towards her boss.

 

How could he even be so insensitive? She thought.

 

“YAH! Are you mad?” came his voice.

 

It took him time to answer but she still did. “No.”

 

“Good, ‘cause I don’t really care anyway,” he said and headed to his room.

 

“Tch, insensitive, conceited, erted, ugly. I don’t know what fangirls saw in you, jerk,” she said.

 

Meanwhile…

 

“I should have thought better before saying anything,” Jiyong said when he was already alone in his room. He shrugged then. “Really, I don’t even care.”

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

If the normal routine for Dara’s first days of work was really awkward and uncomfortable, these days, even after five days, the two kept on avoiding each other. Before, it was better because they would bicker at each other, piss each other off, and just quarrel at nonsense things. Right now, no words were shared, except for a few errands Jiyong had to ask from Dara.

 

Dara, on the other hand, felt suffocated. She hated not being able to talk, to bicker, and to piss him off. She was one talkative woman so this change made her feel more uncomfortable.

 

On Day 16, Dara was left alone at the apartment as Jiyong was called by his agency. She didn’t have anything to do because her tasks were finished already. So, she was just hanging around her bedroom a.k.a. the living room.

 

“It’s boring! Boring, boring, boring,” she said repeatedly. “I wish I could go out but that insensitive majesty just had to have those stupid rules.”

 

“I want someone to talk to,” she said as she stared at her reflection on the compact mirror she was holding.

 

“I want to laugh again,” she said.

 

“I want to bicker again,” she said.

 

“Is he mad at me?” she asked to no one in particular. “But, why would he? I should be the one who should be mad at him. He’s insensitive. And he didn’t even apologize!”

 

“But, if I will be as stubborn as I am, I will feel more bored while I’m here. Gosh, I still need to spend eighty-four more days stuck with him. It !”

 

She stood up from the sofa and went towards her guitar which had been untouched in the corner ever since she arrived in the apartment. She plucked a few strings and started bobbing her head.

 

“Baby, I’m sorry…” she started to sing and stopped. “Why am I even sorry?” she asked and shook her head. “No, I shouldn’t be,” she said and put the guitar down. “How about a pop song though? Since he’s a KPOP star anyway.”

 

She turned the television on and looked for the music channel. She found it and it was a channel airing a music festival.

 

She sat back on the sofa and cringed at every performance shown on the TV. Every performer had like more than five members and it confused her who was singing what. Her head ached at the confusion of the beats overlapping each other on the song. It wasn’t for her. She couldn’t appreciate the songs because she couldn’t tell the elements of the music apart from each other like what she could see in indie songs.

 

She wanted to turn the TV off by now, but there was something stopping her. After a while of boring and lip-synched performances, someone came on stage and the crowd roared louder than before. She recognized the bright blonde hair and the clothes.

 

“I was sure I washed them just yesterday,” she said. The performer had sunglasses so she couldn’t really say if it was really him.

 

He started performing and he recognized the high-pitched nasally voice and she started to laugh as he danced on stage. It wasn’t even funny but she was laughing. After a while, the performer removed his sunglasses and it confirmed her assumptions.

 

“It’s the conceited boss of mine!” she exclaimed as she stood up and watched his performances.

 

After a while, she couldn’t help but to go along him as she also started to bob her head and eventually, swaying her body to the music.

 

“Yeah. This is pretty fun,” she said.

 

“It sure is,” a voice said behind her.

 

Dara froze on her spot and her eyes widened. “No,” she whispered.

 

“Yes, this is really fun,” the voice said again.

 

Dara turned to the source of the voice.

 

“After a whole day of work in the agency’s studio, it sure is refreshing to watch you being all crazy alone,” Jiyong said.

 

“YAH! How long were you watching me?”

 

“Just before Crooked started,” Jiyong said, referring to his song which he was currently performing on TV. “You said you didn’t like KPOP.”

 

“Yes, I didn’t. And I still don’t.”

 

“Then, why are you watching a music festival?” Jiyong asked, quite smug. “And you’re dancing to my song too. Could it be that… you only like my music?”

 

“YAH! Don’t be so full of yourself!” Dara said.

 

“Then, why are your cheeks pink?” he continued teasing her.

 

“They’re not!” she exclaimed, holding on to her flushed cheeks. “Do you want anything? Are you hungry?” she asked, hoping she could evade him.

 

“Nah, I’m full after seeing you dancing around,” he teased.

 

“UGGGGHHH!” Dara groaned as she was already in the kitchen, pulling on to her hair.