20

The sky was dark, and the rain had just stopped, casting grey smudges all over the area. The wind blew, still: wafting and whirling around, bringing a sensation of eerie coldness. The sun was setting, its faint pink light almost overshadowed by the pale grey.

Myungsoo stopped at where his chauffeur stood; the car door was opened, waiting for him. He slid in quietly and the car rocked slightly as the door closed beside him. When the dimness settled around him, he slumped in his seat. He imagined Jiyeon sitting alone in the clock tower, puzzled and hurt. He still had the time to tell her that he was fine; that everything was fine and she should not worry. He had not wished her happy birthday yet.

He was about to open the door, but the car was already rolling down the street. Too late. Always a moment too late.

Why? Why did his butler have call him at the most infuriating moment? Why could he have not waited a moment longer? But despite himself, Myungsoo found himself taking the call. Because his butler never called. The first and last time he had ever called was when his sister went missing. It must have been important.

Fear coursed through his veins in place of the earlier excitement when he felt her proximity. And as he put the phone on his ear, his heart picked up for the second time that day, “The chauffer’s waiting,” he had said simply. But something told Myungsoo that it was not as simple as that. Something was wrong, definitely. So, with much difficulty he had stood up.

As he walked away his heart clenched. It must have been hurt—the thing he was feeling then. A lot.  The unfamiliar overwhelming emotion scared him. Was it supposed to be this hard to breathe? Was it normal to feel this much? It must be, he soothed himself.

Myungsoo had pushed himself forward, afraid that if he looked at her, he would have stayed. He could not afford to do that. It was too risky. He did not say when he would be back too. He could never be sure when he would be back, especially if the business involved his family.  He had not said anything so that she would not wait. And being the man he thought he was, he had left.

Myungsoo threw his head back and a ragged sigh escaped his lips. So many things were swimming in his head and he did not know what to think; what to do. Myungsoo buried his hand into his pocket and found a tiny box: the black box with light splattered all over it. It took a whole lot of time and money to get a box that matched the one that he received from Jiyeon that day. This was the exact replica except that its material had worth so much more.

He opened the box. It was not empty. There, against the soft cushion, lay a necklace with a hollow heart-shaped pendant. A single musical note filled the space, adorned with little diamonds that twinkled softly in the darkness. Somehow, it looked so lonely and forlorn without its owner.

Gently, he extricated the necklace from its box and turned it over. His heart clenched as his fingers grazed on the uneven surface where the letters of her name were engraved.

Jiyeon.

It was her birthday present and he had to give this to her by tonight. A bitter smile tucked the corner of his lips. Somehow.

The engine of the car stopped and a few moments later, the door beside him opened. It was unexpectedly a short ride.

Myungsoo shoved the necklace back into his pocket. As he stepped out, the door behind him closed. Myungsoo studied the surrounding and could not help but to feel confused. Why was he home? Myungsoo shot the man a questioning look.

“You have to change. A suit is ready in your room. We have to pick up your sister too.”

His brows creased as he tried to understand the situation. His sister was at home and undoubtedly was safe. So what was so important that he had to call?  

The chauffeur bowed, “We have to leave in half an hour.”

Myungsoo strode on, into the house, somewhat annoyed that he was being rushed. His eyes softened when his gaze landed on his sister sitting on the rug in the living room. She was playing with what seem like papers. She did not even look up when he walked in. But then again, she never cared.

“Yah, Kim Hyejeong,” He called her name, his cold aura dwindling away.

“Why are you always ignoring me, huh?” He ruffled her hair and knocked her head with amusement.

She turned to cast him a dirty look for hitting her, but almost immediately her attention was back to the thing she was doing. He looked over her shoulder and saw that she was playing with characters she recognized as Tom and Jerry. Immersed, she gave no heed to his presence.

“Yah, Kim Hyejeong.”

He bent over and grabbed her arms. Then, in one swift movement, he slung her over his back. He staggered a little because of her weight and she screamed into his ears. He winced as the shrill sound throbbed painfully in his eardrums, but said nothing.

“You’re getting heavier.” He complained. It was his childhood hobby to carry her around.

She was still screaming and thrashing when he regained his balance. He groaned as he set her to a more comfortable position on his back.

“Come on, we have to get ready. Here, you can bring your Tom and Jerry with you.”

He bent over to pick them up and she stopped struggling. Sometimes, it was hard to believe that she was thirteen years old. But then, she was not normal after all.

“Now, let’s go to your room.”

When he started running up the stairs, she started laughing. Then, feeling like he had melted to her laughter, he smiled as well.

When they reached to the front of her door, he set her down. She was still laughing. He was about to open the door when her nanny rushed towards her and shooed her into the room like a mother hen, muttering, “Come on, let’s get ready.”

He stood at the threshold, watching the nanny fussing about: opening and closing the cupboards again, three maids were buzzing around her. But his sister just stood there nonchalantly. She did not care at all. Myungsoo tore his gaze away and walked up the stairs to his own room.

Like the chauffeur had mentioned, there was a new set of suit carefully arranged on his bed. He walked over to it, not even bothering to cast it another glance; he sank into the soft mattress. He had not had enough sleep and jet lag was clearly catching up on him. He felt like just staying there, unmoving, and let sleep take him.

Just downstairs, he knew, his sister was getting ready, and he knew he could not sleep. This was absurd. He did not even know where he was headed to. But remembering the phone call, he dragged himself up and washed his face, despite himself. He trusted his butler more than anyone in this house. And when he said it was important then he had no reason to believe otherwise. Then, listlessly, he eased on the garments before making his way out of the room.

-------------

It must have been the umpteenth he had woken up because of the bumps on the road. For the umpteenth time too, he had looked around sleepily but they were still in the middle of nowhere. It was a long ride. He turned to find his sister still sleeping beside him. By this time, he could already predict what would happen: he would fall asleep again, only to be woken up by another rough bump. It was a tiring sleep, however ironic that sounded. Before he closed his eyes, the last thing he remembered as with the last times was how afraid he felt.

Bright light flared in his eyes and he squinted against the brightness. He was forced awake, with no memory of where he was. Then, looking around, he realized that he was in the car, and his sister was already getting out.  The door beside him was opened as well.

He slowly stepped out, staggering in sleepiness. He was still struggling to open his eyes and his mind felt so heavy, like useless damp cotton in his head. In front of him four footmen bowed. They ushered him and his sister through the huge double doors. A resort. They were at a resort. His family’s resort. Why was he here?

They took the lift and walked through several hallways. Myungsoo followed the footmen blindly, his tired legs dragging him along. They passed through another set of doors and stopped. Soft music flowed, and chatters of people greeted his ears. The great ballroom was decorated with lights and flowers, and the people, who adorned themselves with rich clothing, were helping themselves to conversation and drinks.

Myungsoo paused. A party. It was a party.

For a second, he stood there: too stunned to move. It felt as if his tired mind was forced to work at an impossible rate. Was he supposed to be here? Everything still seemed too blurry that he could hardly make sense of anything. His gaze then fell upon a banner. It was a farewell party.

 Reading it still proved to be a very draining thing for him. It was weird how the words did not seem to make sense. As if time slowed down, he watched as a figure through the back door. She yanked all the attention to herself with her strong presence.

 His mother. Then realization struck him so suddenly and hardly that he staggered a little before pulling himself together. Anger flared within him as he watched her gracefully walking up the stage. She picked a microphone and announced herself to the great room. Something almost similar to hatred infested his heart at that time when he saw her smile. Silence fell upon the room and everyone waited expectantly.

His mother smiled again, “As we all know, my son, will be going abroad soon, to continue his studies. Let’s welcome him on stage.”

As they started applauding, Myungsoo stood there, stiff with anger. Moments passed and Myungsoo stood there, unmoving. The sound of the applause started to fade before it stopped entirely. The room grew so still it seemed as if they were all holding their breaths, waiting to see what he would do next.

Myungsoo spun his heels around to leave, “Myungsoo,” his name sounded like a question; a gentle whisper that held a discreet warning. Myungsoo stopped; his patience was at its limit. Another move from that woman and his calm façade would surely be gone. He fisted his hands so hard that his knuckles turned white. The room was suffocating him to the point where he could no longer breathe. He wanted to get out from here: away from them.

He pushed the door and stormed out.

“Myungsoo! Stay there and don’t you dare move even a muscle! What the hell were you thinking, storming out like that?! I have enough of you and your childish ethics! I don’t need to see them anymore. Grow up for the company’s sake. Your father and I raised you better than this!!” her voice boomed across the hallway.

That was it. That was all that he could take. He heard her shoes clicked as she neared him. Forget about going away from here, he was going to face his parents. He turned and marched past his mother. The last of his sanity and conscience gone, he burst through all the doors, not caring that he was interrupting meetings. Somewhere in the distance, in between of a dream and reality, he heard someone calling his name.

Using all his strength, he pushed open the double doors. The sound echoed through the room and two pairs of eyes turned to look at him. That of his father: that of his butler. All of the sudden he felt drained.

“MYUNGSOO!!!” He heard his mother screamed his name as she stood at the threshold, panting heavily.

“Ah, you came,” his father smiled at him, though his tone was anything but happy, “I didn’t think you would come.”

Turning towards Mr. Ahn, “What did you do to make him come?” but before he could offer a reply, he continued, “Ah, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to know. Let’s go, everyone is waiting.”

Disbelief was what he felt right then. His butler was in this with his parent. It was too amazing he nearly cried. What was this? He trusted this man. He came because he trusted this man. Something flickered beneath his butler’s eyes, something he caught as guilt.

Standing there, he thought he felt hurt for the second time. The only hero he had in his life; the only one that had willingly carried him on his back, neighing like a horse while he rode; the person who had put him on his first bike, watched him go and called “Ride, boy!”; the person that tended to him when he fell of a tree and said, “Just a little pain.”

But the same man now lowered his eyes and bowed, “It’s your own farewell party, let’s go Young Sir.”

Something snapped in him. He was angry again, more than before. He was furious. But on top of it all, he was tired. He turned to leave, away from this twisted; sick in the mind people. But before he went out of the door, he heard his father said, “Oh right Myungsoo, your flight is tomorrow. Be ready by 7 in the morning.”

Myungsoo looked at him, incredulous. Tomorrow? He knew nothing about that. He was thinking about convincing them to let him stay here. But tomorrow? Myungsoo did not know what exactly he was feeling right then. But it was so overwhelming that he felt that he could break down and cry right then for trying so hard to contain them.

Registering his face, his mother said in exasperation, “Myungsoo, we told you to pack and get some rest. Your flight’s leaving tomorrow morning and…”

“Cancel it,” he replied curtly.

“Myungsoo.” His father’s stern voice reached his ears.

Her mother looked at her husband, her expression saying, “What do we do with this kid?”

Myungsoo scoffed and walked away. That was it. That was as much as he could take. He could hear his mother calling after him, but as soon as he went through the doors and closed them, all the noise was shut off and it was quiet again.

He paused for a while and closed his eyes.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would be leaving. This was the last that he would see of his little world that he knew his whole life. It was the last that he would see of his sister. It was the last that he would see of Jiyeon.

His eyes snapped open.

Jiyeon.

He had to get to her, in one way or another. Then, he started running, down the hallways, down the stairs, back to where he came from. He ran out of the building, his breath racing, but his legs propelled forward, unaware of the ache in his muscles. He was tearing down the road, pushing one leg after another.

Headlights of a car flared his vision and he was aware of the black car that was speeding right in his direction. He stopped in his tracks. He tried to move away, but his legs were frozen. Time seemed to slow as the car approached, its honks blaring in the silence of the night. And in that last moment, a thought flashed into his mind. Would it make any difference if he died right now?

A hand gripped his wrist and pulled him roughly aside. The car sped past. He was still alive.

“What the hell are you thinking?!”

He turned. It was his butler. They were silent for a while, their quick breaths filling up the heavy space between them. Then, Myungsoo looked away.

“What? You want to go to her? Fine! Get in the car.”

Myungsoo stiffened. Of course his butler knew. He turned around and saw his butler step into the white car that was parked on the road shoulder. Myungsoo opened the door and slid in. Right after he closed the door, the car started moving.

His earlier weariness had completely vanished and he was completely awake, waiting. Instinctively, he fished for the little box that was tucked away in his pocket. Opening it, he gently lifted the pendant, caressing the engraving at the back of the necklace. He realized that he had been doing that so often, almost becoming a habit.

He looked at his watched as the time slowly ticked away, an hour after another. Ten minutes to 12:00 a.m. He leaned in to the driver’s seat, “Can’t we go faster?”

His butler turned for a second, and then moved his eyes back onto the road, “Don’t you trust me?”

Reluctantly, he said, “Yeah.”

Myungsoo knew that his butler was smiling.

“Then sit down and wear your seat belt.”

“What if I say I don’t trust you?”

“Then sit down and wear your seat belt. You cannot do anything now that you’re in the car.”

Myungsoo dropped onto his seat and felt the car accelerating. He gripped the necklace, so hard that his knuckles might have turned white. He leaned front, feeling the rush of the car, the excitement and exhilaration that they were racing against time.

He looked at the empty road in front: blank except for the car’s headlights and the tiny reflectors on the road. His fingers were still clutching the necklace.

Then, a flash of white appeared in front of the car: headlights of another vehicle. The car swerved, and he was roughly flung to one side of the car, hitting against the door. But it was too late to do anything.

When an accident happens, the victim always described it as ‘it happened too fast’. Time would have slowed for them and they would still say that it happened too fast. And he finally understood what. He did not know what was happening. He could not see anything.

He knew what he heard: the sound of screeching tires against the road, breaking glass and twisted metal, all screaming into his ears. He felt the sensation of hitting something, flying through air and scraping something, the feeling of his skin being torn away. But he never knew what had happened.

Then, after all that blasting noise, there was silence. The surreal kind of silence after a tragedy had stricken: the forlorn aftermath silence. He felt nothing. Not even numbness. But when he tried moving his hand, pain shot through every part of his body, as if fire was raking through every inch of his flesh. He felt blood.  How was he still alive after all this? How was he still breathing?

He pried his eyes open, fighting through the blasting pain. He felt the necklace in his hand, the engraving was still there. He felt his consciousness ebbing away, and thought this was the end. Every breath felt like a bolt of pain had struck him, and he knew he could not breathe anymore.

Darkness engulfed everything. Maybe this was the end. In that moment he realized that it would have made a difference if he died. Someone cared. But he could not do anything about it. It was too late. He was too late. Always a moment too late.