Shotgun K

The car ride to the studio was tensely silent. I kept my eyes out the passenger window for the most part, stubbornly determined to stay silent for the whole ride. But my manager clearly had other plans.

Mr. Park let out a heavy sigh again for the millionth time, forcing my reluctant attention back to him. I swear, whatever it was… he was exaggerating.
When I didn’t give a reaction Mr. Park started to speak.
“I hear last night was the coldest it has been this month.” he said casually. “Also with that awful storm weather of rain and gusty winds, I hear some people didn’t get home last night…”
I ignored him, scowling at the window without making a sound.
Mr. Park sighed again, making him sound like a heartbroken man.
“I wonder if those people had a place to sleep, or they had to take refuge on someone’s balcony…” he wondered out loud.
“Yah!” I snapped, turning to glare at him. “What’s all this pouting for? What do you want?”
Mr. Park shrugged.
“I’m not really pouting at all. I just feel bad for all those people that got left out in the cold rain for no reason.” he said, innocently but pointedly.
“What do you want me to do about that?” I demanded. “It’s not like I controlled the weather to be so crappy.”
“Yes, but you were the one that threw K out into the balcony overnight.” he said.
“She’s the one that stayed out there. She made the choice to stay out there.” I muttered. After a short pause I added. “She could’ve snuck back in for all I care!”
“Oh? You really don’t care?” Mr. Park demanded incredulously.
I wheeled around in my seat to start yelling back, but the words didn’t make it past my throat. I stared at my manager for a bit, hating the way he was making me feel.
“Aoish!” I huffed out, aggravated. I turned back to the window, stubbornly turning my shoulders away from Mr. Park.

Neither of us talked the rest of the way, but I couldn’t help feeling as if I lost in a battle of some sort.
The traffic was minimal so the ride there was over before it was too long. The moment the car was parked, I got out and made my way into the building without waiting for my manager. Enough of this; it was now time to work. None of the crap from the car ride will affect me here.
I breathed in silently and cleared my head just as I stepped through the doors. Without slowing my pace much I made my way all the way to the back where my dressing room was located.
“Anyonghaseyo.” I called out as I started to see some backstage workers.
Some returned the greeting as they rushed through the halls and some took time to bow before hurrying off to take care of their work. I kept my pace fast too, to keep out of the way of the busy foot traffic of the staff. I quickly got to my dressing room and stepped inside.
No one was in the dressing room, as I had expected. But relief flooded me still, now that I finally had some time to myself and just relax a bit. Work hasn’t really started yet and I was already feeling drained.
Silently, I walked over to the seat in front of the light-up mirror where I usually got make and hair touch-ups done. I shrugged out of my jacket and slung it over the back of the chair before I sat down. And then I just sat still.
Everything was quiet and still around me, just as I had hoped. But the feeling of ease I had been anticipating didn’t come.
I inhaled slowly, letting my lungs fill to its maximum before blowing all the air out in a heavy sigh. The heavy weight in my chest didn’t disappear. Frowning, I rubbed my stomach, wondering if I had eaten something to give me heartburn. I haven’t eaten much of anything today…maybe that was the problem. A small, dull pain rose from the skin in the middle of my abs, making me wince a bit. Bemused, I lifted the edge of my shirt to investigate.
“Oh come on,” I groaned, when I saw a small, circular bruise forming in the smack-dab middle of my otherwise toned abs.

That girl…she had hit me hard enough to leave a bruise! I was supposed to have a shower scene today in the scheduled shooting! I stood up from my chair and lifted the shirt up higher, taking a look in the mirror to see if it was noticeable. Yup; there was no denying the pinkish-purple mark in the middle of my stomach. It even looked comical with the way it was oddly symmetrical in the way it was almost a perfect circle…

Groaning, I let the shirt fall back down and dropped back into the chair. I set my elbows down on the flat surface in front of me and cradled my face in my hands. Why the hell was all this happening to me? Two weeks ago I was perfectly fine; topping the popularity charts on the net, dating the number one desirable woman in the entertainment industry and nailing the role of a highly anticipated action drama, SHATTERHEART. And then, one incident later I’m here with a bloody heart in a box, crazy murderous stalker and a suspicious girl for a ‘bodyguard’…that was potentially just as murderous as the stalker. Oh, and I was newly single.
“Agh,” I growled under my breath, frustrated with myself. Why was all this happening to me? What did I do to deserve all this?
Slowly I opened my eyes, lifting them to the mirror in front of me and stared at my reflection. The face that stared back was definitely mine and nothing unfamiliar; without the professional touch, there were a few minimal imperfections that were still visible. Like the stubborn bags under my eyes, though they weren’t bad. But I didn’t have a healthy glow recently… I will probably need more of the superficial help for today’s shooting than usual...

Then my mind fell back to the heavy weight that seemed to linger in my chest.

Slowly, I leaned back in my chair and rested my hand on my sternum. What was this feeling? If felt like the weight of the world on my chest, threatening to crush me from all sides. Whatever it was, I didn’t like.
Relax, I thought, coaching myself to rest. Just breathe and don’t think about it. Just feel what’s there.
Inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale… I let myself fall into the easy rhythm of my own breathing.
Inhale, exhale…inhale, exhale…inhale---

Suddenly out of nowhere I was very aware of my own heartbeat.
I could feel it; my own heart beating against my hand where I had it pressed to the base of my sternum. It was there, under the bone and muscle, working non-stop to keep me alive. Safely tucked in my ribcage, not to be disturbed---

---Not in a bloody box mixed in with the mail.

I froze, growing stiff. I think I was going to be sick.
I shot up to a stand, my hands slapping down on the counter in front of the mirror. I could see my hands trembling slightly before I curled my fingers into a fist.
There was something seriously wrong with me…Think of something else! Anything…anything but that. I need a distraction.

My hand found that tender spot on my abs and without giving it much thought I pressed my fingers down onto the bruise…hard. Pain shot through my skin and I winced. Man…how hard did that crazy girl hit me? I swear, I am going to have to return that favor somehow…
I released the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, and I felt my muscles relax. That was…that was…
…what was that, exactly?

A sound of banging a clashing came from behind, making me jump a bit in shock. I wheeled around and saw the door to my dressing room open. Then I heard a familiar voice, humming an energetic tune.
Sun-Hi came into the room, dragging a heavy looking clothes hanger through the door. She didn’t seem to notice me yet, as she had her back towards me.
“Heeeeeyyy…Sexy laday!” she sang under her breath, her English holding a thick accent. She bobbed a bit in the spot, completely lost in her head.

“Sun Hi,” I called.
Sun Hi wheeled around and blinked at me.
“Oh, annyeong, Jae-Sung.” she said casually, smiling. “You’re here early. Weren’t you busy today?”
“Don’t you know my schedule?” I joked. “You were only reading through my calendar yesterday.”
“Eh,” she said, shrugging carelessly. “I only remember important things.”
She glanced over at me and grinned.
“Remember your own damn schedule.” she said. She then turned back to the clothes hanger, sorting out each set in some order.
I shifted where I stood, and felt her energetic presence to be relaxing. Then I remembered what Mr. Park had mentioned few days ago, about me having someone to confide in. Would Sun Hi really be okay to talk to?
I glanced back over to the girl, who was still arranging the hangers on the rack and unpacking the clothes from the protective bags. She seemed to be absorbed with the task at hand, completely focused…
I hovered a bit, feeling awkward before I opened my mouth to speak.
“Uh, Sun Hi?” I said.
“Yea?” she replied, not stopping.
“Are you busy right now?” I asked.
The costume coordinator glanced at me, placing the last of the hangers back on the rack.
“No, not really. We’re not filming for another two hours anyway. Why?” she asked.

I looked down at my hands briefly, fighting the urge to squirm in discomfort.
“Woo Sun Hi’s guaranteed confidence, is it still open?” I asked.