9 o' clock news:

'A mangled body was discovered in a ditch near the outskirts of Seoul.
'There were no signs of a struggle. The victim was found with broken ribs and no heart.
'The police are calling it a homicide. They are beseeching eyewitnesses to come forward and advising caution for citizens near the area. The police chief condemns the 'Collector of Hearts,' calling his actions 'a crime' against 'the people.''

***

“Jessica Jung. Aged very old. Cleans like a wench on valium.” I cringed at the description Junsu gave as he continued to paint. God knew how much I hated this job. I was Alice and he was the Mad Hatter, doing what he pleased. As of now he had been struck by inspiration and I was stuck wearing a maid uniform while holding a feathered duster that made my nose twitch. So far I’d sneezed at least ten times, each of which made Junsu curse.

Honestly, the only reason I put up with this job was, not because of this guy, but his handsome, kinder, tip-giving brother Kim Jaejoong. It perplexed me to think that, half brothers, Jaejoong and Junsu shared the very same womb. One was mad and the other was a fallen angel. It must’ve been the fathers…

“By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes!” Junsu slathered his brush against the canvas, scratching frantically.

“Stop blinking!” He shouted tossing the brush at me. It hit the white of my apron blotching a black mark that made Junsu pull at his hair. “Now look what you’ve done, you, you, you imbecile.” His round eyes widened almost popping out of their sockets as his nostrils flared with venom.

I craned my neck to get a good look at the damage done. The stiffness of my neck made me cringe. There was a splash of paint across my torso. I almost cried a laugh. This uniforms was expensive and as part of our idiosyncratic deal, I’d signed an agreement not to mar the skeleton’s clothes.

“I am a man more sinned against than sinning.” With that, Junsu flipped the canvas over and stomped on my face many times before letting his palette cake my physiognomy in mixed colors. I resumed a normal stance, no longer posing as a tea pot, and chewed on my lip. My glance flew back and forth from the clock to Junsu praying that a hero would walk through the door and drag his mental brother away.

He came while Junsu was still spitting Shakespearean quotes, taking out his vexation at a crumpled portrait that could give ‘The Scream’ a run for its money.

“Look what she did to Amazon’s dress!” Junsu called foul while I protested that it was not me, but he, who’d thrown the paintbrush that’d led to this explosion.

Jaejoong tried to reason with his crackhead brother while I tried to recall why I agreed to let him paint me. This was all because he agreed to pay me. I should have turned him down when he’d whipped out Amazon’s maid outfit and shoved me into the bathroom. I should have said ‘no.’ But how could I have? I was working multiple jobs to pay off student loans, my rent, and the Tuc biscuits I lived on. I was in no position to refuse even the smallest of coins and Junsu was rich! He was dripping in gold and diamonds. His seventeen earrings were of diamonds and a gold bar pinched through his brow. He was ridiculously frivolous with money. He liked to splurge on expensive plane tickets to go, and buy illegal bones in hopes of constructing a skeleton who he’d already named, ‘Amazon.’ I’d concluded him ‘mad’ from day one.

The half brothers scuffled. Junsu might have been lanky tall but was in no way contestable against Jaejoong’s mass. The latter was a gym addict who’d taken up boxing. I wish he’d just punch through Junsu​​​​​​​'s gold tooth, but Jaejoong was courteous enough to pin the guy’s arms behind his back as means of self defense.

Junsu howled like a wild dog. I plugged my fingers in my ear. His shrills caused resonance to sing in my bones. Jaejoong frowned. His lips moved to mutter something and immediately Junsu stopped his silly act. Like that Jaejoong let him go and Junsu pressed his lips taut. He glared at me first and then unconvincingly said, “I’m sorry for throwing a paint brush at you Jessica. I won’t do it again.”

“And?” Jaejoong pressed.

“I will give you the amount I promised for your time,” Junsu croaked.

“And?”

“I’ll pay for the dry cleaning,” he mumbled.

I nodded shifting my gaze to my shoes wishing I could knock them together and return to a world of normality. Junsu shoved past me, whispering, “Get thee to a nunnery.” He stomped his feet like a spoilt sport and then we were alone, Jaejoong and I.

I smiled bitterly. Junsu​​​​​​​'s offensive words I’d gotten used to but having Jaejoong rescue me like a Cinderella each time made my insides writhe. I was no damsel in distress. I just happened to appear that way each time he walked through the door. It didn’t help that his brother was the root of my troubles. Jaejoong was highly conscious and always sorry for hiring me. He even told me not to listen to Junsu​​​​​​​'s orders, but the latter had offered money…

“Jessica-”

“Don’t!” I shook my head. I didn’t want his apology. “I shouldn’t have agreed in the first place.”

He sighed and ran his hands through his thick locks, something he did when he was frustrated. Naturally, his brows scrunched at the mess. I was reminded of the old Jaejoong, the one I’d worked for before his brother had sold his house for a skull and moved in. Jaejoong hated untidiness.

“I would love for him to live in a cardboard box on the street,” Jaejoong mused. I scurried over and picked up the waste from floor only to find that the white marble tiles had been stained.

“He’s lucky he does errands well,” Jaejoong growled darkly.

That made me chuckle. There was no way Jaejoong would willingly chuck his brother out onto the streets. Even if he was annoying, Jaejoong could never put the guy in harm’s way. Before my eyes I saw a petrified Junsu lying on the cold concrete, his ribs broken to illustrate the cavity of his heart, his heart missing. Involuntarily, I shuddered. Jaejoong would never forgive himself if that were to happen.

-

That night The Collector of Hearts was all over the news. I hated the gory images. They made me ill with distress. The box television continued to delve details, listing the number of deaths so far. I listened in while staring at the blanket I’d wrapped myself in. It’d been a present from Jaejoong when he’d first learnt of my living conditions. The icy news was made warm by thoughts of him.

Jaejoong always did those small things that made me glad I worked for him. He’d cook meals when he knew I had long shifts and dropped me home from work, insisting he climb all the stairs that reached to my rooftop home in case I were to run into some killer. He would never be truly satisfied until he searched each corner of my house and deemed it ‘safe.’ Even then his eyes would flicker with unease at having to leave me.

I knew he liked me. I could tell. I was able to read through him. What guy did such things if he didn’t harbor feelings? It was sweet of him. I wished he wouldn’t though not because his brother was a complete whacko and I didn’t want him as a brother-in-law, but more to do with our social caliber. I didn’t want to date someone who would leave me feeling inferior. I didn’t want to be reminded that I was poor. I didn’t want to be classed as a ‘gold digger’ by those around us. So I kept thoughts of him at bay. He was my fantasy, someone who existed in my head as an ideal guy, however fictional. I couldn’t let him become more than that and that was why I never ate the meals