[12]
Shortly after, the agency issued an official statement correcting the distorted reports about Jungkook. Ultimately, Jungkook and I were officially dating, nothing more, nothing less.
"That's strange. Why did Jungkook say something that didn't exist? Is it true that nothing really happened?"
My manager kept asking me questions, as if he was suspicious of the situation, but I couldn't answer. At that moment, my mind was completely focused on Jeon Jungkook. I held my phone motionless in my hand, repeatedly turning it on and off.
'Answer the phone. Jeon Jungkook.'
I'm so anxious right now. Please answer the phone. Jeon Jungkook.
.
.
Despite my fervent hopes, Jungkook didn't contact me. Since this was clearly my fault, I thought I should approach him first. However, perhaps because of the noise marketing surrounding our relationship, my schedule was completely packed.
"Jungkook, answer the phone. It was all my fault. -Ham."
All I could do was text whenever I had the chance.
"Ham. I think a fan sent this?"
My manager walked into the waiting room carrying a large box. Now that I had quite a fan following, they often sent me gifts. Despite the circumstances, I held onto their hearts, feeling their kindness.
"But there's no sender for this?"
"Are you a shy fan?"
I opened the box, thinking I'd do the same. The moment I opened it, I screamed at the object I saw, and dropped the box, screaming.
"Ham, what's going on?"
The surprised manager came running to me.
"Oppa, it's in the box..."
As I shook my body with a shocked expression on my face, my manager looked inside the box for me.
"Ouch! What is this? It looks like a chicken head."
After checking the contents of the box, my manager immediately carried it out of the waiting room. Still struggling to calm down, I approached the piece of paper that had fallen from the box. With trembling hands, I lifted the blood-soaked paper and screamed again. Written in red blood was the words, "Don't touch my brother."
"Huh.."
My whole body stiffened and goosebumps ran down my spine. I hadn't had a proper rest since becoming a celebrity, so my weakened body and exhausted mind were already in shock. Even standing up straight was difficult, and I collapsed to the ground. My makeup artist quickly rushed in and helped me up.
"Ham, are you okay?"
"under.."
"Ham, wake up."
I was completely out of my mind. I couldn't breathe. It felt like someone was choking me, suffocating me to the very tip of my throat. I felt like if I stayed still, I might die.
"Sister. I can't breathe..."
"Ham, calm down. Breathe. It's okay. Ham!"
"It's hard... It's hard..."
I cried because I felt like I was going to die. My whole body felt tense, and at the same time, my nerves were on edge. My stiff body continued to tremble with anxiety.
"The stage is in 5 minutes. What should I do?"
"Ham, can you stand on stage?"
"under.."
I was breathless, but I felt a sense of responsibility to get on stage. If I didn't get on stage, many people would suffer. Instead of answering, I walked onto the stage.
"Is it really okay for me to go up there like that?"
My stylist protested to my manager, but he seemed uneasy, as the event organizers had their own position. As I stepped onto the stage, I heard the roar of the crowd. My body still trembled, unable to calm down. The crowd looked dizzy. Perhaps someone among them had sent me that box. Someone might kill me. Uneasy thoughts plagued my mind and body.
Meanwhile, a song's accompaniment flowed out. I couldn't laugh, nor could I cry. The people were too scary. This place, which I always thought would be so wonderful, became terrifyingly scary. I needed to sing, but my voice wouldn't come out. The murmur of the people kept coming and going. My vision went from clear to blurry. But I never saw the edge of the stage.