22

I think I had crossed all limits of stupidity when I arrived at the airport that afternoon. Not to chase him and beg him not to go. Not that. He was a married man now.

I checked my wristwatch. 12:00 PM. Yes—he was married now. A husband to someone else.

I had checked the wedding invitation even though I wasn't attending—I was no drama queen to the point of crashing white veiled occasions. He had ordained it to happen in the morning. By noon, his flight would arrive. Somewhere around now.

Maybe he was long gone. Maybe he was still at the reception, popping the champagne. I didn't know. I didn't have to know. I was doing a pretty good job sitting at the airport garden outside as if I hadn't just won the un-noble prize for being a shame to my family. Fuck this daughter who couldn't even handle a break-up maturely. My mom and dad would probably hang me out to dry if they realised what I was doing here.

I had no excuse either.

How the hell was I there, I did not know. All I knew was that my heinen hurt like a bitch on this metal bench. I could squirm once more but the people would stone me as creepy. It was best that I stayed quiet and harmless.

I heard the deep roar of another flight take off. I didn't look up. I couldn't look up, afraid it was his. If it were his then at least I could say that I had no reason to sit here anymore.

Damn the planes that took people away. I hated it. I hated planes. Aeroplanes are equal to no-no. As dumb as that sounded I think I was prepared to never touch an airport again. I hated the awkwardness of the people around me. That sharp stench of mixed perfumes. The distant sound of someone weeping for their departing family member. That sound of wind that had nowhere to go but to the wings of the plane. It was a totally bitchy environment. Who even liked to be around this?

I'd drop an overseas scholarship to escape this.

I wrung my hands, staring at them like they could tell me what the hell was wrong. I had done too much to keep my mind off but I stumbled into the personal chats of Jong Suk like they were still real. I couldn't fucking believe that he once talked to me so sweetly. He never even raised his voice at me. Perfectly gentle. Always opening doors for me, kissing my tears. The kind that made me feel like I deserved to be appreciated. He was so nice that I wanted to break this bench. Someone else was about to get all the love that was mine. It was mine first.

What the fuck? Why, god, why? I didn't remember doing anything so bad that I'd have to live to see this day.

My hands ran through my hair because I couldn't think of anyone else who would love me like that. And yes, some bitchass advice would say your parents, your father and shit like that but no. I mean the romantic kind of feeling. The kind of love where everything that the other person does makes you want to fuck them—disrespectfully. That kind of feeling.

Bo Ah's name blinked on the screen. I stared at my face on the screen for a second.

"Haerin?" She panicked.

I held the phone up, smiling at how pretty my skin looked in the afternoon sun.

"Haerin, where are you?" She demanded in a way that could get her a punch in the gut from me. "There's too much sky behind you. Where is this?!"

I turned the phone around as a plane flew by. "See?"

Bo Ah let out a shrill scream. I turned the phone to face me and chuckled, "What? I find this place awesome, Bo Ah. We should come by the gardens here—"

"Why are you there? Are you leaving? Because of that stupid jerk?!"

"I'm not!" I exclaimed, and then showed her my teeth. "It's okay. I'm just—I thought I'd give my final goodbyes sitting here, you know?"

"Girl don't you dare meet him—"

"I won't." I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "I'm not into married men. It's okay. I'm just waiting for all the planes to fly away today."

"Haerin, are you okay?" Her voice softened. "Should I come to you? It'll take a minute but—"

"I'm fine, Bo Ah." I sang and leaned back into the bench, but my face stretched awkwardly in the camera so I had to straighten up again. "It's okay. It's just a strange time. Jong Suk and I broke up a long time ago. I'm really fine."

"That motherfucker slapped you, Haerin." She whispered, growling from her chest. I touched my cheek reflexively.

Oh, right.

The slap.

The mark was turning darker now. Though not badly enough to completely ruin my face, it was still visible. It stung. Like needles. But only when I moved it too much or washed my face.

My throat bobbed. "Come on, Bo Ah. I climbed on that man's back. Of course, he'd shove me like this."

"Are you kidding me? I'm coming over, Haerin." She was getting worried for me but I was really fine. I didn't know what else to do to explain it to her.

"Not today. We'll arrange a day to meet." I waved dismissively. "Right now, I have a few errands to run."

"But Haerin..."

"I'm fine!" I shot at her. "Don't keep saying bad things. I'm fine. I've always been fine. Haven't I?"

She couldn't answer that.

"And I'll continue to be. Don't project your panic on me, you bitch." I sneered at her.

"I wish that were the case." She rolled her eyes. "Call me if anything happens. Please. And don't you dare meet that scoundrel again."

"Yep." I smiled and hung up.

Another plane flew by. This time I looked up, half guilty for this.

But, meh. Who cared? It wasn't like I was haunting him or something. I was pretty stable. I just didn't have it in me to see him and say goodbye. And for the sake of the new woman, I had to choose not to. Ah, the cons of being a bitch to men only. You somehow end up doing good to them because you didn't want to be bad to the girl.

I had one job—being a bitch when someone was bad to me. And I couldn't even do that.

•••

That Monday morning, it felt like the world was ending.

Everything was useless and vain: the struggle to get up, the unnecessary polishing up of a face that had seen ghosts that weekend, the pricey taxi I booked to the office and the stupid cybersecurity assessment that I had to take first thing in the morning. Nothing was worth it anymore. All of my efforts to find routine felt like reminders of how nothing really mattered if I didn't have what I really needed. A man to kick me in the shin.

I hadn't fallen so hard after a breakup before. Not even when I first called it quits with Jong Suk. To be honest, that break-up had been an eye-opening situation for me. I had dressed up prettier and hated him harder. Back then, I hated him like he was a roach. Oh, how I missed the me from that Jong Suk-hating era. I wish. I only fucking wished I was still the same. I was not. I was the upgraded version of pathetic—Ultra Max Pro, now with high-quality foolishness and long-lasting humiliation

Right from the beginning of that day, I saw it all going down in the mirror. I was ugly and horrendous with my hair sticking out like I had just kissed an electric pole—drenched.

I couldn't even care less about the black medical mask I wore to work to hide the slap on my face. Not when I had spent my Sunday outside the airport, weeping in an alley because he departed for New York. Married. With a fucking wedding ring on the hand that once was in my—nevermind. He didn't even have the courtesy to let me know what changed. And I didn't even get the chance to ask why not me. It was kind of pathetic. Kind of? No. Fully and completely pathetic.

That morning, I wasn't supposed to report to the sixth floor per usual. I had to stop by the devil's cabin to complete the assessment I had walked out of last Friday. I wish I had sat there and completed it instead of walking out after failing the first question. Things could have been different from then. I could have found a washroom to get myself to breathe again.

On the third floor, I was received with no hellos and for once it served a purpose.

A lot of the people who would usually know it was me, didn't know it was me. Only the ones at the reception found out it was me beneath the mask. They didn't prod, and that was a good sign that maybe I didn't seem that dishevelled.

I blinked at the ceiling a few times before unlocking the cabin door and stepping inside. My chest caved like I was punched in the gut.

The air conditioner was trying to assassinate me. Or maybe, I was too cold inside to notice. Either way, I was cracking.

I made my way towards his desk, trying not to show that this assessment was the worst thing happening to me at that moment. Keywords: at that moment. It was just a measly test. But it felt like my life was ending.

"Morning," he glanced up from the screen. "Unwell still?"

I cleared my throat beneath my mask. That was the answer. That was enough.

Jeon Jungkook ushered himself in, with full participation. To begin the ruination, if I may add.

"Sit. We need to talk, Miss Kang."

Something snapped. A button of my shirt or my head entirely, I did not know. But I heard the snap—crisp.

I never thought that Jeon Jungkook would be the reason I felt like dying.

In my dreams, I wanted to kill him. Not literally—with my paybacks and my snarky remarks. But here I was, catching my breath like I was in mortal combat—all because of a simple sentence he said.

Was he bringing me bad news? News that would shake the floor off me.

I tried to cross the distance.

It felt like walking inside water. My legs required twice the effort to push through. But that made me realise that the air was a substance like water too. Except that being in the air didn't make your toes numb. Right?

I tried to focus but my fingers were turning numb, and the mask? It did a terrible job of letting me breathe. I stretched my legs, stepping without wobbling but the moment I reached the seat, my laptop landed with a hard slap on the desk. I grabbed the column for support and landed on my seat so loudly that Jungkook thought I was being smug.

He looked up. "Is this some power play?"

Yeah—right. Power play. What a stupid assumption.

My nose touched the desk.

I smelled the wooden surface, and God, that made it worse. My head caught the numbness from my hands and feet.

I couldn't breathe.

"Miss Kang?"

Damn you with your Miss Kang. I was shaking. And all I could think was no not before him. Not this guy. He's going to make fun of me for centuries. Maybe even write stone tablets about the one time I collapsed before him.

But my head spun like I was inside a mirrorball or something. And if I opened my mouth to speak, I would probably breathe first. That would make it more awkward than it should be.

"What the fuck—" he huddled out of his seat and grabbed the back of mine.

I waved my hand at him to keep him informed that I was just fine. Yes. I was just fine. A little trouble breathing and my vision narrowing, so what? It was alright.

No the fuck it was not.

I felt like I was going to die!

"Miss Kang—you're not breathing properly." He stated.

My gaze snapped at him and I opened my mouth, "...no shit—"

"—Sherlock?" He sounded aghast. "That's what you say in the middle of this?" I could tell he wanted to laugh at me but he was too shocked to do that.

He grabbed my shoulder blades and pulled me up to sit straighter.

"Does this feel better?"

I didn't even know what he was talking about until a few moments passed in a haze and I finally felt his hand rubbing my back. Like he was consoling someone at a funeral. Maybe he had been doing that for a long time. I didn't know why but it did help me stabilise a bit.

My breathing slowed down and I closed my eyes for a moment. In the memory of my sweet pride that I had just killed before him. Why did this man always have to see me at my worst? It's like I'm a repellent or something.

"Water?" He awkwardly asked, hesitating to let my back go.

I shook my head, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Are you going to puke?"

I shook my head again.

"Faint?"

No—bitch. I shook my head once more.

"Bite me?"

What—? I glanced up and it turned too awkward for silence.

A laugh erupted from my mouth and he finally released my body from his helping grip.

"I'm not a sadist. So we don't have to continue this."

He reached for his phone on the desk.

"Although, I am missing the chance to hold you up for this, Miss Kang. For ruining my tests two working days in a row."

I slammed my shaking fist on it, "Don't you dare tell anyone."

"Right." He sneered like he knew I'd say that. "I am Kakao T'ing you a cab. You're going home, Miss Kang."

I fixed the edges of the mask around my cheek, "Mr Jeon, I report to Mr Min. Not you. I can't just leave."

"After a panic attack? I don't think so." His brow rose and my fingers itched to pull them off.

A panic attack. My throat bobbed. Was that it? Because it was fucking terrible. And all of that just because he said 'we need to talk'? Why?

I had always had my doubts about my mental illnesses but this was fucking terrible. I was crazy but not crazy enough to not understand a panic attack. Or was I?

Either way, it didn't matter. I was going home. And that idea seemed like it was for the best. Maybe I needed to go home and rest.

"Put your address in." He continued, slapping his phone on the desk and took a seat.

He fixed his rolled-up sleeves, never taking his eyes off me like I was about to sprint away. I'd need a lot of breath for that so no. Not going to happen.

I gulped, my throat prickling. My fingers were still numb but to a degree in which I could feel sensations on them. Not totally numb like a few seconds ago.

"I thought this was some mean trick," Jungkook said, watching me slowly type it out. "But then I saw you shake like I'd given you a taser or something."

I rolled my eyes and pushed his phone back at him. The surface was too smooth for my taste. Too classy and elegant. I didn't know which company his phone was from, but it was definitely not an Apple product, which was strange. People of his designation would usually be stuck to that 'i' technology.

"Are you sure you don't need water, Miss Kang?" He glanced up from the phone, amid his saviour mission of calling me a cab.

"Yeah..." I looked away, unsure.

I did need water. But what I did not need was for him to see my face and laugh at me because I looked like a clown with that mark. He had already witnessed too much going wrong with me. Enough was enough. I am a strong, independent woman who was capable of taking herself to the cab without Jungkook's help. Yeah, that's right.

"I've messaged you the details of the cab and the driver's phone number." He began and stood up.

"Okay..." I nodded, trying not to look at him. "I'll take my leave, thanks."

I grabbed my phone and turned for the door but he was already falling in step with me. No fucking way was he going to drop me to the cab now. Who knew what else I'd be ashamed of before him?

"You don't have to—"

He pushed the heavy wooden open open for me and I was tempted to dash out like I was on fire. I did not.

Ugh.

I stepped outside, relieved from that damned air conditioner I had just escaped. It was getting too much now.

"Seriously, Mr Jeon," I tried to say and my foot almost twisted. I caught the wall to my side, saved by seconds. "Haha...I mean, I can take the cab myself. Thank you for the help."

"Sure. I believe that you can take cabs yourself." He nodded, a smirk dangling on his face. "You're tripping in flat shoes, Miss Kang. We have enough proof of your abilities."

"What—?" I was about to turn and slam him but then I spotted a familiar face in the corridor and my heart leapt.

Park Bo Gum.

To the rescue.

"Hey!" I grabbed his sleeve when I was close enough. "Hi, Bo Gum!"

"Haerin?" He searched my face, visibly astounded by the indecent grab out of thin air. Then his eyes switched to Jungkook behind me.

I blurted my words faster than them having time to communicate, "Can you help me get the cab downstairs? Please?"

He looked at Jungkook again.

Was this man just keeping bitches at this point?

I cleared my throat, "I'm just unwell and Mr Jeon was kind enough to call me a cab." I explained hastily.

Bo Gum looked at me, confused but tilted his head, "Um...sure?"

"Thank you." I exhaled so loudly that my voice cracked.

I whirled to Jungkook and gave him a salute, "Thank you. I'll be off."

He didn't say anything. More like—couldn't say anything. He stood there with his arms crossed, watching me with a face that looked like he was enjoying this and annoyed at the same time. Well, whatever. I didn't owe him anything. Right? Right.

Besides, I couldn't tell why but it was too awkward to take Jungkook's kindness. It felt like he was one-uping me on something. As if he would have this against me and use it to blackmail my lineage.

I leaned against the elevator's wall and glanced at Bo Gum.

"Thanks."

"Yeah. No problem." He nodded stiffly, his lips in a twist from the puzzlement. But at least he wasn't asking anything.

We got to the cab downstairs and he offered me his packet of juice before shutting the door for me. I put my bag down beside me and relaxed my head back.

"Excuse me, Ma'am,"

My eyes snapped open to the driver's, watching me from the wheel.

"Can I cancel the cab and have you pay me directly?" He continued with a glint in his eye, "The commission on the application is ruthless."

I waited for a second. But I was too tired to have the conversation about why not and the driver did look kind enough.

Not a first. Drivers did that to escape the ruthless consequences of capitalism. And who was I to stand in the way of rebellion? I was barely standing at all.

So I agreed.

And I thought I was the fucking smartest in the entire world until my phone started ringing.

"Mr Jeon?"

I scowled, debating whether I should answer it or not. And I didn't want to but that man had intel on me. I couldn't risk ignoring him for now.

I hit answer and put it to my ear.

"Miss Kang, where are you?" He cut in, his voice sharp and too confronting for me not to open my eyes fully now.

"Do you have memory loss issues, Mr Jeon?" I muttered. "You called me a cab, remember? I'm in it."

"That's impossible." He snapped. Fucking snapped? "The app called me. The driver says you're not there."

What?

My head shifted to the driver who was casually driving me. I was sure everything was right. I even got the cab number right.

What was this bastard saying?!

"Mr Jeon, you gave me the cab number and the driver's number too!" I sat up straighter. "What are you—"

"Get out of that cab." He commanded and I could already hear things shuffling around him through the phone. "Send me your location. Now. I'm coming to get you."

"What—"

He hung up on me.