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1.
Unlike most people, DoIl was exceptionally good at setting goals and getting shit done. Every action and every interaction were designed to serve both his short term and long-term plans: in the short term, he wanted money, in the long term, he wanted money.
People – those who wanted to be him, those who thought themselves above him, those who wanted him dead – might’ve created problems for him, smug with their pathetic machinations. Though much to their disappointment, he always had them play into his hands. And, as far as he was concerned, this would always be the case.
So, it was no surprise that he was indeed very surprised that Ms.Oh had run off with the suitcase when his back was turned. Sure, he had sensed her unease, her general jumpiness through the day. But he’d assigned all of that to the fact that they were moving money at a scale she likely hadn’t known before.
DoIl was confident that he would find her, coax her back, ply her with careful smiles and soft promises of financial security. He would get that 70 billion and he would get her out of Singapore alive. He repeated this to himself, as he barreled down the streets with his foot pressed furiously on the gas pedal. He would not be bested by an entry level accountant.
He cursed when he saw stalled dense traffic ahead, and just as he was about to shift into reverse and find a way around, his attention snagged upon a small pink twinkle in the eye of the mess of cars. He paused and squinted at it as it grew bigger. It slowly ate everything in its path, swallowing people, cars and buildings whole.
DoIl’s sweaty palm slipped on the gear shift as he attempted to maneuver the car away from the growing pink light, though deep down he knew it was a lost cause-
2.
Every failure and every success required postmortem. DoIl had practiced this diligently thus far.
Except now, because–
“Mr.Choi are you ok? –”
-- because –
“—You’ve been at the wheel for a while now – “
-- was this déjà vu? Or –
“—Maybe we should head inside?”
“Do you feel like we’ve done this before?”
“Hm?” Ms. Oh stared at him bemused, “Well, we have visited a lot of banks today, so they’re all kind of blending together in a way, ha ha! I mean, not that I’m ungrateful for –”
“No, I mean,” DoIl rubbed his brow, in the way his mother used to sooth him before. He’d thought he’d long since outgrown that. They’d done this meeting before, hadn’t they? “You’re right, let’s head inside.”
Yet, the feeling of familiarity followed him through the lobby, into the elevator, into the conference room where they were told to wait. People said the same things and offered the same coffee and biscuits.
DoIl watched as Ms. Oh wandered closer to the tinted glass walls and peered down. She swayed on her heels and turned to him with a peeved smile. He guessed she would say “vertigo”.
“Vertigo,” she said.
In that instance, he hadn’t enjoyed being right.
Then a little later, he watched her sign the papers. A blob of ink smeared in the same spot on her paper, and she offered him the same embarrassed grin when he noticed.
The afternoon sunlight made her floral-designed earrings gleam a faint pink color. DoIl stomach roiled uneasily as he found that color familiar as well. He couldn’t remember if they had been that way before.
A man rushed out after them in the lobby, “Oh excuse me!”, he – DoIl squinted at the name tag-- Ping said. “I need five minutes of your time Mr.Choi, we need to resolve an issue with one of the forms. We’re very sorry.” To his credit, Ping did look sorry and out of breath.
DoIl’s knuckles stroked along the line of his left brow as he considered Ping. Everything had gone the same as before. If he went with Ping, he had little doubt Ms. Oh wouldn’t run off with the suitcase. And the pink light would eat him whole. Or had he hallucinated it all under the oppressive humidity?
“Mr.Choi,” Ping gently called his attention. “I assure you, it really won’t take much time.” He smiled nervously, and then his eyes flicked to somewhere below DoIl’s shoulder.
DoIl followed that direction to Ms.Oh who’s head turned between the door and Ping. Her eyes grew a little large when she realized he’d caught her.
“Um, I don’t mind waiting here,” she nodded towards Ping, “Seems like it’s a small mistake, right? You should probably go ahead.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, I think you should come with me,” he reached out to unlatch her fingers from the suitcase handle, but she didn’t move. Beneath his hand, her fingers stiffened. “We should double check all the forms. Just in case, would you mind that Manager Ping.”
Ping babbled, “Actually, that’s not necessary. We only need to correct your forms. Ms. Oh is welcome to wait here, we can offer some more refreshments --”
“Oh how convenient, that it’s only my forms with the issue, don’t you think?”
“We didn’t do it on purpose –”
“I was talking to Ms. Oh,” he snapped and ignored Ping’s indignant gasp. DoIl angled his body so he blocked Ms.Oh’s path to the door. He lowered his head and voice, “Anything you would like to share with me, Ms.Oh?”
“I-I – no.” She frowned at him. “I don’t have anything to share. You already know everything there is to know. Probably more, even. I do-don’t like the accusation that I’m keeping something from you.”
“Why? What’s wrong with coming with me? I could use a little moral support.” He offered her a small close-lipped smile. Not quite self-deprecating but toeing the line. Charming.
“Why can’t I stay here?” She tipped her chin up at him. “Do you not trust me to be alone?” She pointedly jerked the case from under his grasp.
DoIl flexed his hand, feeling the phantom impression of her knuckles pressed against his palm. “Of course I trust you,” his mind raced trying to reconcile her rejection – the whole situation. “I just, I – don’t you trust me?”
Her glare softened. She said, “I do.” She glanced at the door behind him. She was lying, but he knew that already.
DoIl loosely grasped her wrist, “Come with me, let’s get this sorted out and then we can talk about it, alright?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she muttered, twisting her wrist to break out of his hold. When he didn’t let her, she snapped, “Please, let go of me.”
“I have a strange feeling that you’re going to do something reckless.” He bent his head to look into her furious eyes. “I just want you to know, we’re on the same side. Whatever you’re thinking, please talk to me about it, we can do it together.”
“It doesn’t sound like you trust me at all,” she sneered. “Do you think I’m stupid? Don’t answer that, I know you do –”
“-- I do not—”
“-- let go of me—”
“-- please just give me two minutes—”
“Security!” Ping joined in, because that’s exactly what DoIl needed now. “Security!”
“Ms.Oh, please --” DoIl swallowed the rest of his sentence in a gasp, because Ms.Oh’s sharp elbow stabbed his stomach. He bent over to catch his breath and was forced to let her go.
Ms.Oh’s skirt swished around him as she ran towards the door with the case.
Still trying to regain his breath (and his pride), DoIl turned to Ping, “Stop her --!”
DoIl’s world pitched sideways, and he found himself laying on the floor with his arm twisted behind him by a man in uniform. “You called security on me?!” He yelled in Ping’s direction. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”
“Sir, you refused to cooperate –”
DoIl tuned him out and twisted his neck to look desperately out the glass door.
3.
“Do you really have nothing to share with me?” DoIl demanded from Ms.Oh.
“No,” she repeated. Her hand moved to open the car door. She wouldn’t be able to. “Well, I guess I’m just a little nervous, you know, given how much money we’re moving around. But that’s it.”
“That’s it? Any chance that you’ll,” abandon me sounded melodramatic. “Take off with the cash?”
“No, no chance,” she shook her head emphatically.
“Do you think,” he hesitated, though he didn’t know why. “Do you have this feeling that we’re done this before?”
“No.” A wrinkle appeared between her brows as she considered him. “This is the first time we’ve come here, right?”
“Right.”
This time, he caught the old woman bumping into Ms.Oh. He paused a step behind Ms.Oh. He watched the older woman look down at a scrap of paper she dropped into Ms.Oh’s hand, and then look outside the window where a yellow dress fluttered out of sight. Then the older woman waddled past them as if nothing had happened.
Well. Well.
He sidled up to Ms.Oh and read the note from over her shoulder. “…But that man, Choi DoIl, is dangerous.” DoIl snorted. Truly, what a novel accusation.
Ms. Oh started at his proximity, so Doil steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll have to forgive my intrusion. I had a feeling my character was being insulted; I had to check. You understand, don’t you?”
“Um…I…this is very...,” Ms. Oh spluttered and she moved to put the note in her dress pocket.
DoIl caught her hand, “This seems very important. Let’s finish reading it together.”
Ms.Oh’s face flushed furiously, and while it did make her resemble a ripe persimmon, the overall effect endeared her to him. He wasn’t sure if it was because his proximity flustered her or if his brash behavior angered her. He was partial to the former.
He expected her to elbow him again and was ready to dodge. But her shoulders fell, and with a resigned sigh she lifted the note to him.
“Read it,” he asked.
Ms. Oh cleared her throat and read it aloud in a rushed pace. The note’s author had a thorough understanding of Ms.Oh psych in the current moment. Once finished, she noted blandly, “I guess your character was insulted.”
“I’m not that offended.” He told her. “I’ve heard it all before.”
“I’m sure you have,” she muttered stubbornly staring at his shirt collar.
DoIl bit back a smile, this was not the time to be amused. “What do you think?”
“It must be Hwayoung,” she said. At his exasperated groan, she continued with a stubborn set to her shoulders, “It must be. I saw a lady in a yellow dress running away just now. I told you she was at the auction as well.”
“It can’t be HwaYoung, because she’s not alive. And it could’ve been any woman in a yellow dress.”
“She was wearing the heels, the limited-edition ones!”
“They could be fakes—”
“ – or they could be real –”
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s assume she is real, what then? Why would she reveal herself to you now. Not when we went to her apartment?”
“Because” Ms. Oh floundered, then countered decisively, “Because you were with me.”
HwaYoung might’ve been DoIl’s friend, and he didn’t want to speak ill of the dead, but the woman sure had created a mess that had no end in sight. “And she wants you to bring the money, that she already had control of? Why?”
He waited patiently as Ms.Oh searched around the lobby for some answer. She softly said, “I don’t know why.”
He nodded, “Let’s go there together. If this really is HwaYoung, I’d like to see her too. She was my friend as well.”
Ms.Oh reread the note, then slowly nodded back. Doil let out a breath. He waded further into the fog, but still it was progress.
When Ping came out to request DoIl to revisit some forms, DoIl smugly ignored him and guided Ms.Oh out through the side entrance. Just as the note suggested, there was a car waiting for her. The author had orchestrated all of this quite elegantly.
The driver hesitated at DoIl’s presence, “I was only expecting the lady.”
“I wasn’t expecting you at all,” Doil replied drily.
The driver shrugged. Perhaps he wasn’t paid enough to care. Stowed the case in the trunk without further comment.
The drive to HwaYoung’s supposed residence started without much fuss. Ms.Oh alternated between scanning the note, the window, him, and the driver. She hadn’t said much to DoIl.
He was about to distract her with an inane comment about coffee the bank had served them, when the driver swerved sharply around the car in front of them.
DoIl cursed and looked through the rear window at another car that seemed intent on gaining them. Ms.Oh’s smaller clammy hand closed around his as the driver made another harsh maneuver. Her head craned between the different windows in the car.
He squeezed her hand, “It’ll be alright.” She swallowed and squeezed his hand back. Her phone started to ring – DoIl noted the caller id Inkyung.
“Mr. Choi,” her watery voice gasped, “I – I’m – my --”
Whatever she was about to say was cut short as glass and a cacophony of sounds exploded around them.
DoIl blinked his eyes through the dizziness and bright spots. His throat didn’t seem to be working for some reason. And his right side ached something awful. He squeezed her hand to make sure Ms.Oh was still with him.
Her hand laid limp in his. He craned his neck to the side and found her head bleeding against the broken car window. He blinked furiously at the image and shook her hand.
“Ms. Oh,” he croaked. “Ms. Oh?”
Something near her ear twinkled pink and started to grow bright. Just as before, he watched helplessly as it consumed everything in sight.
4.
DoIl peeled his face off the steering wheel and turned immediately to check.
Ms.Oh gaped at him, “What?”
“You’re okay? Right? How is your head?” The image of the horrible bleeding gash on her head overlaid with this current version – the effect was nauseating.
Her hand fluttered up to smooth her frizzy hair, “I’m okay.”
“Okay.” DoIl breathed. “Okay.” He jerked his car door open, and promptly threw up what little he’d eaten that day on the pristine sidewalk. He gasped, trying to get control of his breath and his stomach. Ms.Oh started to rub his back. He closed his eyes and rested his temple against the steering wheel and groaned, “what the fuck.”
Ms.Oh gently nudged his shoulder with an open water bottle. He muttered his gratitude quietly, and greedily downed more than half the bottle in one go. How long had it been since he drank water? How long had it been since he’d slept?
She watched him concerned, “Should we go back to the hotel? Maybe we should rest.” Somehow, her wording and tone prickled at him. Like she was coaxing some beastly creature, like using a pointed “you” instead of “we” would set him off.
“No, no I’m ok.”
“Mm.” Her dubious note irritated him further.
“I’m fine,” he bit out. “I just need a minute.”
He stared up at the dark car ceiling and did his best to ignore her. DoIl’s mind stitched and restitched all the things he knew thus far, though the effort was akin to reasoning though a nonsensical dream. They couldn’t – wouldn’t go inside, not this time. Some HwaYoung impersonator was intent on separating Ms.Oh from his side. Someone else was intent on killing Ms.Oh. And the pink light –
He narrowed his eyes at her earrings. He wanted them off her person, but -- but she had died, hadn’t she? They both had (he’d been close enough to it anyway). And now they were alive. So, he concluded, like a child awkwardly stumbling through long division, she must continue to wear them.
His mind made up, DoIl shifted the car into drive and navigated back on to the main road.
“Are we going back to the hotel?”
“I’m not sure. I think we should just go for a drive.”
“Why?” In his peripheral, her hand clutched at her purse strap. “You don’t seem well.”
“I could use the … ah … space. You don’t mind do you?”
“No…maybe, could you drop me off at my room? It’s been a long day for me too.”
“No, I can’t do that. It is very important that we stick together for the foreseeable future.” DoIl casually opened the driver side window and threw his cellphone out. Space from suspicious people, space from suspected digital trackers. “Oh no, I accidentally dropped my phone. May I borrow yours?”
“Accidentally? I watched you throw it out – !”
“No, it was an accident, my fingers slipped. May I borrow yours? I need to make an urgent call.”
Ms.Oh clutched her phone to her chest, “Who? I can call them and put them on speakerphone since you’re driving and all.”
“Exactly,” he cut a quick glance to her. “This conversation is very distracting, please give me your phone so I can make the call.”
“Just tell me the number –” She shrieked when he nearly rear ended the car in front of them.
“-- You see? This is distracting me from driving –”
She shoved the phone into his open palm, “Fine. Here.”
DoIl promptly threw her phone out the open window as well. A beat of tense silence followed. It felt ticklish, DoIl wanted to laugh. He’d officially lost what little sense he had.
“I knew it, I knew you would do that, what is wrong with you – !“
“—Then why did you give it to me –?”
“ – You’ve been so strange, and --,I should’ve never come here with you. My sister was right, I’m so, ugh!” She pressed her palms to her eyes. He heard her sniffle.
“I’m sorry, I just think there’s something –”
“Please take me back to my hotel. I’m tired.”
“I’m very sorry. I can’t do that.”
He felt her rightful glare burning a hole into the side of his head. She sniffled again, “Why not?”
“I think there’s someone trying to kill you. I think they know where you are. I needed to put some space –“
“—And throwing away my only way of contacting anyone was the way to do that?” She scoffed tearfully. “We couldn’t have just turned off our phones?”
His silence spoke of his sheepishness. He blamed the lack of foresight on, well, whatever this was. “I didn’t think it would be that easy. Some phone models can be tracked even when turned off. I’ll get you a new phone.”
“Hmf!” She pulled a tissue out of her purse and wiped her eyes. Yeah, he was definitely a dick. “Who’s trying to kill me?”
The truck crashing into her cab--the obnoxious heavy handedness of it reeked of Go SuIm. No thoughts on the consequences of orchestrating a scene like that on foreign land. But Mr.Park had agreed to it when he’d given him the same assignment of getting rid of Ms.Oh? The note’s handwriting was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “I don’t know.”
Ms. Oh huffed, “That’s really fantastic!”
DoIl decided, wisely, that he should not say anything else. Ms.Oh stewed quietly in her rightful anger.
He had no destination in mind, just driving as far away from the downtown area and HwaYoung’s supposed apartment address as possible. Eventually, after merging on and off enough highways, DoIl parked near a quiet beach.
Peach and purple shades painted the sky. They’d made it to the late evening – they hadn’t the previous times. DoIl wondered if there was any way he could see tomorrow.
Ms.Oh quietly followed him out the car and down to the water. He turned to her with a tentative smile, “It’s nice here isn’t it.”
She didn’t answer him. He could tell she was still fuming because she refused to look in his direction. DoIl sighed, he wasn’t even sure from where or when he could begin to explain. He wouldn’t believe it if someone had come up to him yesterday and suggested he not buy the earrings for her because she’d keep dying and he’d keep reliving the same day.
Ms.Oh carefully sat in the sand. She lifted some sand in her hand, and slowly let the grains fall from between the gaps in her fist. He watched, entranced.
DoIl imagined that if he’d brought her under different circumstances, she would’ve been a chatterbox of observations. She’d turn to him and make a joke about the birds or the shells or something with a wry grin, as though they were old friends. It would’ve felt like an inside joke they’d had for years. Where people like him had to practice bringing people into their confidence, she had that naturally – of putting people at ease -- of making them feel less alone.
The guilt weighed heavy in his gut.
“The breeze feels nice, don’t you think?” It was a poor imitation of what he figured she would say. It lacked something he couldn’t pinpoint, but he was compelled to try.
DoIl resigned himself to his punishment and sat a few feet away from her. She didn’t say anything for a long time.
“I just feel like, sometimes,” her voice quivered. “I mean, I know I’m not like the quickest, or, or, whatever, but I thought I was just doing the right thing. I just want to do the right thing. I don’t want InHye to feel embarrassed to bring her friends over to our home. I want Inkyung to have her own office with a nice desk. I thought believing you was the right thing to do to get all those things.”
“It is,” he promised her. “I’m really –”
“Except, that it doesn’t seem to be reciprocated, does it? I mean,” she laughed bitterly. “What’s the point in me believing in you, if you don’t believe in me? That’s not a partnership.”
“I do believe in you,” DoIl said softly. She had her head turned away from him.
“No, you don’t. You believe that you’ve got me figured out. You believe that if you tell me some lines I’d want to hear, I’ll act how you want. And I do, don’t I? It’s like I’m getting scammed.” She huffed, “Again.”
He didn’t appreciate the unflattering comparison to her useless failure ex-husband. Unfortunately, before he could defend his honor, he saw several black vans haphazardly pull up near his car.
He stood slowly and sensed Ms.Oh do the same next to him. A woman in a yellow dress exited one of the cars and began to walk briskly towards them. She was followed by several men dressed in black. After a few wobbly steps, she stopped to take off her heels and fling them towards one of the men.
“HwaYoung?” Ms.Oh wondered aloud. “That’s the dress from the article….”
The woman and her small army of men drew closer. It was not HwaYoung.
“Ms. Oh, maybe we should go,” DoIl reached to take her hand.
“Wait,” she tugged him back, “What is Mrs. Won doing here? Maybe she wants something—”
“You two!” Mrs.Won screeched at them as she drew closer. Ms. Oh shrank behind him at her angry tone. “Ruined everything! Do you have any idea how much planning and money went into this?”
“You, especially, you little fucking rat,” her manicured nail dug into DoIl sternum. He took a step back, she followed, seething. “All you had to do was do your job, and you didn’t even do that right. What should I do now?”
“Maybe we should talk about this,” DoIl attempted. The missing pieces fell into place. “I think there’s been some confusion.”
“There is nothing to be confused about. I need to make a return on my investment.” One of the men handed her a small pistol. DoIl regretted leaving his in the car. Though, two guns never did anyone any good.
“Maybe we should talk to Mr.Park, figure this out--”
“No need for that, my husband will agree with me on this,” she smirked at them. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” Then, she pointed the gun at DoIl.
DoIl raised his hands, and opened his mouth, and didn’t have a chance to say anything because in the next moment she’d buried a bullet in his throat. He fell onto his hands and knees, choking on his blood. The sand under him stained red as he tried to breathe. He heard Ms.Oh scream somewhere above him and then she fell into his field of vision. Red bloomed from her chest.
“…Cute little double suicide,” Mrs. Won muttered as she pressed the gun into Ms. Oh’s hand.
He wheezed and coughed as he blearily watched the pink from Ms.Oh’s earring grow brighter and brighter, swallowing Sang-Ah’s confused and furious howls.
5.
“Do you mind if I drop you off at the hotel?” he asked as he merged back onto the main road. “I don’t feel well. I think I need to lie down for a bit.”
“Oh, yes, of course! Do you want water, or like aspirin?” She started to rummage through her purse. “I think I might have some.”
“No, thank you.” He smiled at her.
~~~
DoIl walked briskly through the hotel lobby. Ms.Oh’s heels clacked rhythmically behind him.
“I think the elevators are this way,” she said.
“You go ahead, I need to find something.”
“What’re you looking for?”
“There was a jewelry shop here. Your earrings and bracelet were from that shop.” He turned around surveying the expansive first floor. He could’ve sworn the shop was right here, at this corner. But today, there was only a confectionary shop. “Do you have any idea of what I’m talking about?”
Ms. Oh pursed her lips and squinted at the confectionary shop in thought, “No, I thought it was always the candy shop here.”
He ran a hand through his hair frustrated. “I remember it being here. There was an older gentleman manning the shop.” The man had deep wrinkles and a warm smile. He’d insisted that DoIl purchase the earrings with the bracelet. DoIl had easily agreed, because the company was footing the bill.
While carefully bagging the items, the old man had said, “You won’t regret them. These ones will aid you in the way you need.” DoIl had simply chalked it up to an old-person-ism.
“We could ask the hotel staff later,” she suggested. “If you wanted, you could sleep on the couch in my room. Saves you the trouble of picking me up again later.”
DoIl turned to her surprised, “You’re okay with that?”
“Why not? The hotel room is really big – bigger than, well,” Ms.Oh rambled, “Nevermind ha ha! The couch is practically a bed anyway.”
~~
Thirty minutes, he told himself as he closed his eyes. Maybe forty-five. Then he’d figure out what to do next. Just a little break to regroup. Ms.Oh lounged on the couch opposite to him, watching a Korean variety show on her phone. This was the first time he’d been at peace in a while.
Slowly, but surely, the long overdue sleep overtook him. He dreamt of nothing except pink light.
~~
DoIl jerked awake with a gasp. His mouth felt as though it’d been stuffed with cotton. He looked around his surroundings, trying to remember. And then he did.
His watch told him he’d slept for two hours. And a quick walk through the hotel room told him Ms.Oh was not here. And the case of cash near the door was missing.
He stilled and stared aimlessly at the large double doors. He could guess what’d happened: A note was delivered to the hotel room and Ms. Oh convinced that it was HwaYoung and rushing off to meet her.
DoIl ran a tired hand down his face. His work was cut out for him.
Only pink light greeted him when he opened the door to exit the room. He took a deep breath and walked straight into it.
6.
DoIl called in a favor and set up a rendezvous near one of the many Singaporean ports. They had to get out of here.
Singapore must be smaller than he thought, or maybe they were followed immediately, because Mrs. Won managed catch them before they could even reach the docks.
7.
They’re caught at a different port.
8.
They’re caught at another port.
9.
They get on a small motorboat, but they’re caught by the coast guard patrol. The motorboat owner was evidently a smuggler. DoIl was aware of this in the same way he was aware there was a chance of getting stomach flu when being adventurous with street food.
The smuggler was also unfortunately trigger-happy with an illegal firearm.
10.
They’re caught in the parking garage of the airport.
11.
That stupid truck T-boned them on the way to the airport.
12.
They got to the airport. They made it through check in. Ms.Oh excused herself to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back.
13.
They’re caught at the parking garage of the airport. Again.
14.
Even though he’d done his best to avoid the road with the dumb truck, they still found themselves t-boned. Again.
15.
He was doing something wrong.
There wasn’t enough time.
Singapore was too small. Or their sphere of control was too large.
He had trouble looking Ms.Oh in the eye.
If only the day had been set back earlier, maybe then he would have had a chance. Why this moment?
Her fingertips brushed his arm, “Mr. Choi? Should we go inside?”
“Yeah,” he sighed and rubbed his eyes. What did he have to lose anyway? He offered her a weak smile, “Shall we?”
Ms.Oh opened her mouth, hesitated, and returned his weak smile, “Let’s go.”
DoIl paused, he didn’t think that had happened before – or maybe he’d hadn’t been paying enough attention. What’d happened the first time in this car? He could only remember feeling excited at being so close to finishing his plans.
“What is it? You looked like you wanted to say something.”
“Oh, um,” she licked her lips –
Really, he tried not to notice, but the situation had trained him to be attuned to her everything. Her lips were peachy pink, and he wondered distantly if the tone was her lipstick or her. Plushy and soft looking too. They reminded him of sourpatch peach candy. It was the first candy he’d tried when he moved to the U.S. -- sour, sweet and addicting. The thought made his teeth itch, and he —
He dragged his attention back to what she was working up the courage to say.
Ms.Oh said, “I’m really grateful that you’re helping me with this. But how do I know I can trust you after we have the money?”
He was dumbfounded for several embarrassing seconds. He had an answer to this, he knew he did, something about how he only cared for money and that he’d see their deal through because he wanted his cut. Considering everything, he wasn’t sure that it’d be enough. For lack of better options, he relayed what he had.
Going by her tilted head and pursed lips, he guessed she wasn’t very convinced. Fortunately, he didn’t have to stumble through whatever half-assed reason he’d have to come with the fly, his two associates knocked on the window and gestured to their watch.
In the elevator, he watched her curiously. Would that do it? Would a few carefully chosen words really make her stay with him despite the note in her pocket?
16.
DoIl forced himself to relax in his seat and peer out the window as though he was in thought. As he expected, Ms.Oh rewarded his patience.
“Mr.Choi, before we head inside, I guess, I –”
He gave her his full attention, “yes?”
Her hand smoothed an errant curly lock of back into her prim bun. The Singaporean humidity sat heavy on his skin, but he thought Ms.Oh seemed to bloom somehow, like the flowers in his hotel lobby. Bright and lush.
“I’m really grateful that you’re helping me with this. But how do I know I can trust you after we have the money?”
“I assure you I’m only in it for the money. We had a deal, and I have no reason to go back on my word.” Except that Mr.Park had threatened his life. “And I don’t like the orchid society any more than you do, remember? I’m on your side.”
She stared into his eyes, and he let her find what she needed -- he hoped that she’d grasp his sincerity.
She nodded. He wasn’t sure what that meant.
She still ran off without a second glance back at him.
17.
“I’m your horse, remember? I will not steal –”
18.
He tried to find common ground. “I hate Mr.Park, and I would love nothing more than to steal money from him. You and I have a deal, I promise I won’t go back on that deal.”
19.
DoIl dialed up the charm this time, serving his defense with a warm and reassuring smile.
She blushed furiously, which he found hopeful.
That hope deflated when she didn’t waste a second before running off.
20.
He held her hand – for emphasis.
She sneaked looks at him through the meetings.
She still left.
21.
“I love you,” he blurted. He pushed forward through his own surprise, “So, I wouldn’t ever cheat someone I love. Which is you.” The words tasted too sweet, like cherry cough medicine.
“Um, oh, I see--,” Ms. Oh spluttered, her face red and her eyes wide.
DoIl’s ears burned, “I have no, erm, expectations. I just wanted you to know where I stood.” Apparently, that was in Clownery, capital of Clownland. All he was missing was a wig and a bright red nose, and he’d be ready to be inaugurated as the Clown Mayor.
Her mouth opened and closed like there were words stuck in her throat, and she was attempting to coax them out. This continued for an uncomfortably long minute, and then her mouth closed shut and her lips thinned. Her wide eyes narrowed into a flinty glare aimed so intently at his forehead, that he could feel the cool steel rapier of it piercing his skull.
DoIl’s neck began to burn with equal parts embarrassment and guilt.
“What?” She bit out and shook her head. “I can’t believe you –arg!”
DoIl winced when she tripped out of the car in her apparent rush to get away from him. He would’ve done the same, if he was her.
When Ping came to collect him, Ms. Oh's hand touched his forearm gently, he instinctively pushed up slightly to feel the weight of her hand more.
“I,” Ms.Oh blinked down at where she touched him. She continued firmly, “I will see you later.”
“Okay,” he beamed at her.
Her reciprocated smile buoyed him through whatever nonsense Ping set up for him. Only until the pink light crawled in under the door and the tall windows showed the pink light eating away at the horizon. A real-life pink Pac-Man monstrosity.
DoIl sighed and tried to enjoy the rest of his coffee while ignoring Ping’s horrified screams.
22.
He had the epiphany while waiting for her. She wasn’t seeking a reason to believe in him. She needed a reason to not believe her doubts about him. A counter voice in her head that would fight in his favor.
Ms.Oh was sentimental. And unlike most people, he had the misfortune of knowing, she tried to see the best in people. She sympathized far too easily with people that didn’t deserve it.
He concluded grimly that he needed to trade his vulnerability for her sympathy.
Really, what did he have to lose? If they got out of this, she’d be carrying around the pieces he would give her. Truthfully, he couldn’t think of a better person to hold them.
DoIl carefully picked over the words in his mind. And he told her about his mom. He told her what the money would mean for his life.
23.
The failure frustrated him more than he expected. What did she want from him anyway?
Still, he tried the same lines again. And let her bump into the old woman. Let her read the note, uninterrupted.
While they waited to be guided into the conference room, he observed her sway on her heels after peering down through the tall windows. Doil found himself cupping her elbow to steady her.
She flushed prettily, “uh, vertigo, ha.”
He nodded. Then, remembered her slipping down a rope from a seven-storey building trying and failing to muffle her screams. A rush of memories followed. Her home, with the overwhelming number of plants hiding the many cracks and peeling paint on the old rooftop apartment. Her standing up to him in all the iterations where he’d been pushy with her. Running away into a city she didn’t know anything about at all because a note implied her friend was alive.
“Um,” she muttered, gently pulling her elbow from his grasp. “They’re calling us, we should probably go in.”
The truths he’d known deep down – for a while – rose and pressed softly into the forefront of his mind, as though not to upset him with their implication of how truly oblivious and stubborn he’d been about it all: She didn’t really need him steadying her. She hadn’t really needed him at all, not in any way that really mattered. And despite all the shy smiles and blushes she’d given him, he was very clearly nowhere near the top of her list of Important People. Otherwise, she would’ve stayed with him.
DoIl followed her into the conference room, wondering – rather stupidly – what was the point of him? What role was he to play here? Just the delivery boy – guiding her from one stage to the next?
Mrs. Won had set up the stage. Mr.Park wanted her dead. No matter how much he reassured her with promises, Ms.Oh would leave him to find “HwaYoung”.
What was his plan for coming here anyway?
To get control of the money. To get her out alive.
They wanted her to be the spectacle. They wanted him to follow a script. That was fine, but DoIl wouldn’t let that be the end of it.
Since there was no chance of her staying, DoIl’s mind raced through the possibilities. The truck would kill her. He would not get there in time.
About halfway through the meeting, he excused himself to use the restroom. He locked himself in and scrolled through his list of contacts until he found one he was looking for. He dialed the number and waited. It rang once. Twice.
“DoIl!” Im Jong-Su’s cheery voice greeted him. “Let me tell you, when I saw your name pop up, I was so surprised – but a good surprise you know –”
“Listen,” DoIl cut in impatiently. “You owe me a favor. I’m calling in for that favor now-- ”
“-- I’m fine. Thanks for asking. My wife is fine. My daughter is also fine. Actually, my daughter is fantastic, she’s three now. She was just a tiny thing when you last met her, but she’s grown up now and she just joined ballet, let me tell you my kid looks so cute in a tutu –”
“Jong-Su, I mean it, I’m really in a tight spot right now,” DoIl rushed out. “I have this friend, and Mr.Park has it out for this friend –”
“-- oh, well they’re as good as dead, aren’t they—”
DoIl gritted out, “I would very much like them not to be. I’m in Singapore right now –”
“--I’ve heard it’s a nice time to be there, but I’ve heard like mixed reports—”
“—and there’s a truck waiting near Robinson Road and McCallum Street. I need you to find whoever is in it and I need you to –”
“And stop them?” He scoffed. “Mr.Park probably promised them a handsome price. I can find the number to call just fine, the convincing, however –”
“No, I don’t want you to stop them. I want you to convince them to not hit with enough force to kill. You can promise them money. I’ll pay them”
“…wait, what? I thought you wanted to save your friend.”
“I need them to not die.”
“Wow, how lucky they are to have you,” JongSu noted drily.
“So, you’ll do it?” DoIl checked his watch. Not much time left in the meeting. JongSu was good, but even he needed time to work.
“Hmm, yeah,” JongSu said. “I can. You alright man?”
DoIl laughed, “Not at all.”
“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”
~~
DoIl broke free of Ping’s clutches and rushed into his car.
In the end, it still wasn’t enough. By the time he got to the crash scene, he found the pink light already eating away at the surrounding buildings.
24.
He called earlier this time.
“JongSu,” DoIl started. “How is your daughter? She must be, what, three now?”
~~
This new path worked – somewhat: DoIl could open his car door to step out before the pink light appeared.
25.
It was about timing. A pause here, a comment there – there were endless combinations. But there had to be a few that worked. DoIl was determined to find at least one.
He called JongSu.
He commented to Ms.Oh about whatever struck him the moment he opened his mouth.
He asked unnecessary questions in the meeting.
He drove fast.
26.
With every failure,
27.
little by little,
28.
DoIl convinced himself that they were getting a little closer to tomorrow.
29.
Like the fate lines in his palms,
30.
the minutes in these select handful of hours
31.
grew familiar to him.
32.
He imagined that he wore them in,
33.
stubbornly eroding the paths,
34.
dragging his nails into the fabric of time with every iteration,
35.
out of spite.
36.
What choice did he have?
37.
The little storm that she was.
38.
Unknowingly, she’d inverted and twisted the axis of his world,
39.
made herself the focal point.
40.
She tunneled forward in time.
41.
He had no other option but to follow.
42.
And with each iteration,
43.
his greed grew a little more restless.
44.
The thing about avarice was it required regular feeding.
45.
There was no money to be had despite the case full of cash,
46.
only failure,
47.
only death,
48.
only hope,
49.
over and over.
50.
So, his voracious greed slid its narrow beady-eyed focus to Ms.Oh.
51.
This was all her own fault anyway.
52.
It traced the curves of her smile,
53.
contently sank into her bright eyes,
54.
followed the line from her jaw to her neck,
55.
with saliva dripping down its canines.
56.
It incessantly gnawed inside him,
57.
sank its teeth into his fraying edges,
58.
and only eased up a little when he gave in.
59.
He stood closer than necessary in the elevator.
60.
His fingers deliberately brushed hers when he handed her a pen.
61.
He needlessly guided her with his palm flat over the small of her back.
62.
DoIl pushed himself into her space and lingered when he reached over to press a button in the elevator.
63.
Pulled his chair closer to hers in the meeting, so their knees could accidentally brush when he shifted in his seat to reach for a pen or for more biscuits.
64.
The greed in him ate it up when she grew flustered. It smacked its lips and ran its tongue over its teeth to catch any leftovers.
And then, predictably, demanded more.
65.
He had to let JongSu ramble on for five minutes and thirty seconds about his daughter’s ballet classes. And then another three minutes about how much his boss was pissing him off. This had to happen before they entered the elevator.
He needed to ask Ms.Oh about her youngest sister’s art. She would give him a smile, pull up photos on her phone and stand closer to show him while she animatedly explained the themes that InHye had apparently relayed to her. Ping, who would be in the elevator with them, would then be inspired to share his wife’s work as well. This conversation would delay the meeting by about fifteen minutes.
In the conference room, when one of the staff offered DoIl coffee over the table, he had to “accidently” tip the cup onto forms and folders. This would send the whole room into a frenzy of apologies for delaying the meeting further and harsh whispers to clean the mess up and find new forms immediately.
DoIl needed to loudly and sarcastically comment on how the bank was so old-fashioned for using paper forms. The flustered staff would then give a detailed explanation on how that was their priority for the following year. This all would delay the end of the meeting by thirty minutes.
He lingered when Ping came to collect him. He took his time staring down Ping, and looking out the side entrance, before finally sliding the case into Ms.Oh’s waiting hand. DoIl smiled reassuringly. He wasn’t sure who needed the reassurance more, her or himself.
DoIl’s heart rose up out of his chest cavity and pulsed furiously in his throat as he drove down the street. The tall buildings on either side encouraged his tunnel vision.
His car skidded to a stop to avoid crashing into the traffic jam. He stumbled out of the car and sprinted towards the crowded intersection. He pushed through the rim of onlookers and saw a paramedic closing the doors of the ambulance.
“Where are they taking her?” DoIl heard himself ask no one in particular.
“Probably the General Hospital – it’s the closest one,” someone helpfully answered.
With the new destination on the car nav and the hope that the pink light hadn’t appeared yet, DoIl's mind struggled to calculate the next move. He wasn’t sure what he needed, but he had suspected seeing her alive and breathing might shave off some of the manic crust that’d grown on his consciousness.
He parked his car somewhere, he didn’t really remember where, and he didn’t really care about anything at that moment, and maybe the nurse he’d hounded with a flurry of questions noticed this. She smiled far too serenely for his liking and led him to a curtained area.
And with hope that felt too large for his body, he slid the curtain open to reveal: a mussed cot with faint blood stains and soot.
He glared down at the confused nurse.
“I thought she was just here….,” she said. “Just a moment, I’ll be right back, I’ll go check –”
DoIl ignored her and looked around for the case, which was predictably missing. She’d gone off. Again. Stubborn, loyal, irritating woman.
Unless someone had taken her?
He dismissed the idea immediately. No one had expected the crash to not work. So, no one would’ve prepared for it.
His hand brushed over a smudge of red on the pillow. His temples twinged as a warning of a brutal headache. He rubbed his brow and sighed.
DoIl walked back out into the humidity. He pulled out his phone and tapped the cool edge to his lips while he contemplated the current positions of the pieces on the board. Then he dialed and waited through the rings.
Ms.Oh’s preprogrammed voice cheerfully told him that she was unavailable, but that he could leave a message and she’d get back to him as soon as possible.
After the beep, the hoarseness in his voice surprised him as he said, “Ms.Oh. Please call me back as soon as possible. I-I’m – Please call me back as soon as you are able.”
He stared down at his phone for a long moment he really could not afford to waste. Then he dialed again.
A shrill feminine voice demanded, “Hello? Who is this?”
“Miss Oh InKyung. It’s me Choi DoIl? I’m a friend of your sist –“
“Oh I know who you are, you fucking bastard –!”
“I’m somewhat offended you don’t have me saved on your phone, given my relationship with your sister—”
“—there is no relationship!” she snapped. “What’ve you done with my sister? I’m unable to reach her. If you’ve hurt her, I’ll make you wish you’d died –”
“— you’re too late for that,” DoIl snorted. “And that’s what I called you about. There was an accident, and your sister was hurt. But it seems she’s left the hospital, and I’m unable to reach her.”
Her voice sounded very small, “An accident? Was it bad?”
DoIl softened his tone, “I did not see much of it. But a truck crashed into her car. The fact that she is out somewhere alive gives me some hope. I may need your help.”
“You really don’t have anything to do with it?”
DoIl was tempted to say something sarcastic. But his previous experience with Oh women taught him to tread carefully. “No. But I think I have some ideas about what might be happening. Where are you right now?”
“In a taxi, on the way to Mr.Park’s residence.”
“Oh,” DoIl’s mind stumbled over the unexpected variable. “What were you planning to do?”
“Eonni gave me the ledgers,” she said. DoIl imagined lifting her chin stubbornly like her sister. “I was planning on using them to bring my sister back home. Do you see any issues with that?” The question sounded more like a threat than a polite ask.
DoIl mentally adjusted a piece on the board, “No. Please proceed.”
“Well. Good. Not that I asked for your permission or anything. I don’t need it.”
DoIl massaged his temples. “Let’s keep in touch.”
“Sure. You said you had some ideas of what might be happening?”
“I think,” he weighed the words carefully. “I think Mr.Park and Mrs.Won had conflicting plans for today. However, unfortunately, your sister seems to be at the center of both of their plans.”
“Considering the past few weeks,” the younger Ms.Oh said, “I’m not that surprised.”
“I’m sorry,” DoIl said.
“I’ll keep you posted-”
“-ask the driver to take you up through the street with the Japanese maple tree. It’s small and easy to miss, so keep an eye out for it. It will take you to the service entrance. The property does not let in visitors through the main entrance past a certain hour.”
“Okay,” She hesitated, “Thanks.” Then she hung up.
This was progress, DoIl reassured himself as he dialed the next number. Probably not enough, but enough to breathe.
“Mr.Park,” DoIl started. “There have been some unexpected developments.”
“Not what I want to hear,” Mr.Park sounded jovial.
DoIl gritted his teeth, and he forced himself to seem apathetic, “Ms.Oh left with the cash. Her car was involved in an accident. However, I was unable to find her at the hospital.”
DoIl heard a distant glass being slammed on a table. Mr.Park demanded, “She survived?”
The satisfaction of having his suspicions confirmed was overwhelmed by a hot bolt of anger. “I’m guessing by that, you were involved?”
“Don’t take it personally, it’s not that I didn’t trust you. It was like insurance.”
“I’m not offended,” DoIl said. “I’m…appalled by the clumsiness of it. A truck? Really?”
“It was not my idea,” Mr. Park said immediately. “We had limited time, and well, I guess this is my fault for taking advice from --- it doesn’t matter now. Is she alive with the cash? Do you have any idea where she might be?”
“No, I don’t. But I think I have an idea of where she might be headed. I think she believes that Jin HwaYoung is alive and has gone off to find her.”
“Fuck.” Mr.Park announced. “Fuck! Fucking Fuck! -- ”
DoIl started to walk to his car as Mr.Park continued his single-word tirade. After he buckled in, he interrupted pointedly, “Do you know what might be happening here? I think it’s time you bring me up to speed.”
Mr.Park sighed deeply, “My wife has designed another project. I suspect Ms.Oh might be part of the lead cast. This is not what my campaign needs right now. Can I trust you to take care of it?”
“This is what you pay me for.”
“Are you offended? You should understand, there were some rumors of your relationship, I wasn’t sure –”
“I know about those rumors because I put them there. I needed to spend time with her to get information from her.” The condescending obviously went unsaid, but it sat heavy over the international phone connection.
“I see,” Mr.Park said, “Of course, I can trust you to take care of this. Keep me updated, please.”
DoIl shifted into drive and merged back into traffic. He kept calling Ms.Oh’s phone and filling her voicemailbox. He had no idea where she was, but he could guess where she was going.
He waded impatiently through the evening rush hour traffic to get to the address scribbled in “HwaYoung’s” note. The sky was fading into a dark twilight when DoIl sprinted to the elevators. His body moved too sluggishly for his liking, but he supposed that made sense, given his heart had made a new home in his throat.
As he rounded the corner to get to the elevator, a pink light flickered in his peripheral. He skidded to a stop and this momentum threw his heart straight from his throat into his stomach.
He swallowed and rushed closer to it. The light had begun to eat away at Ms.Oh’s face. The rest of her limbs lay crooked and unnatural in a pool of red. He watched the light eat away her whole head, her neck, and her upper body.
DoIl looked up at the building because he needed to look at anything else. From the top balcony, Ms.Won, in her sun-colored dress, screamed and pointed down at him.
Maybe not him. Probably the light.
With nothing left to do, DoIl sat down in the growing pool of blood and waited for the light to eat him too.
66.
At the end of his explanation, DoIl paused and took her in. She was alive now. She was alive in the now.
He looked down at his hands, which were not yet stained in her blood. He looked back at her pretty face which was not yet eaten by the light. He wanted to touch her face, her hair, and her shoulders to make sure she was here with him. But if he did, he would mess this one up.
So, he opened the glove box and pulled out the pistol wrapped in the soft cloth. He showed her how to operate it and carefully handed it off to her. This was probably not a good idea.
But none of this was being played on even ground anyway.
This time, he tried to take a different route to the apartment with the plan to get there a little sooner. And he did.
He pushed past the security guard who was entering the elevator. During the ascent, DoIl called Mr.Park.
The door opened before Mr.Park picked up, and DoIl’s nose was promptly punched and his body was roughly pushed to the floor, face down.
He tried to twist in his assailant’s grasp. He barely heard Mrs.Won’s monologue over his desperate heartbeat. He did eventually hear the gunshot.
His body went limp as confused shouts surrounded him.
He didn’t try to turn his face towards where he guessed Ms.Oh might be and waited for the inevitable.
67.
Ms.Oh slept peacefully under the covers. He’d cleaned her wounds the best he could. He’d have to request a nurse to make a house call in the morning.
On the bedside table, the clock read 11:58 pm.
Ms.Oh’s blood pulsed rhythmically against DoIl’s fingertips, where he’d held them against her wrist. DoIl’s heart was trying to sync with it.
The clock read 11:59 pm.
DoIl couldn’t peel his focus away from her earrings even if he tried. The stones in her earrings glinted mischievously, as though they knew why he was holding his breath, and so they enjoyed their effect on him.
The clock read 12:00 am.
The stones burned bright for one long second, and then flickered once and disappeared.
DoIl blinked furiously through the afterimages their performance had burned into his vision. He pulled together the dregs of bravery and hope he had left and bent his head closer to Ms.Oh’s to check.
Soot laid on her earlobes in the silhouettes of the earrings she’d worn a minute ago. DoIl brushed a shaky finger over one soft earlobe and his fingertip came away smudged with black powder. He rubbed the velvet residue between his fingertips.
The clock read 12:01 am.
He sank back into the chair, his head between his knees.
He wasn’t sure if he should take this at face value. He returned his fingers against the soft warm skin of her inner wrist. Until morning, he told himself. At least, until sunrise.
Then back to business as usual.
The greed in him mockingly nodded its head in agreement.