Panic Room
-
The blinding light and the eardrum-splitting shutter sound. Every eye before me was focused on me. I couldn't bear the gaze. Perhaps due to the aftereffects, a sharp ringing in my eardrums sent me into a fit in front of the countless cameras.
The reporters' murmurs were muffled, as if underwater, and my tinnitus continued to torment me. I had no choice but to leave the room. The company officials and reporters present must have been taken aback by my actions. Everyone knew that leaving a press conference without saying a word was not proper conduct for a public figure.
Even though I took a deep, swooning breath, even though I swept my chest and reassured myself that it was okay, there was no sign of relief. Tears flowed without a moment to breathe, and my heart pounded as if to make its presence known.
My breathing was ragged, I felt dizzy, and my body was trembling, but I shut my eyes tightly and ran, wherever it took me. When I regained consciousness, all I could see was a desolate meadow overgrown with grass. All I could see was a small bench. After barely wiping away my tears, I sat on the bench, watching the sunset and gathering my thoughts. Then, just as I was gathering my thoughts, I heard a sound like a gasp behind me.
“…Hey, isn’t that person a figure skater?”
“Uh… I think that’s right.”
“That player, doping.”
“He shamelessly went to the Olympics after doping. Ugh, it’s creepy.”
“Why are you in our country? I hate the fact that we are the same people.”
My body stiffened, my hair stood on end, and my face turned pale. The silence was noisy, and staring at the constantly flickering screen of my phone drove me crazy. Instead, the silence was so loud I covered my mouth and ran away.
Now I know. There's no place safe for me. Wherever I went, my story was heard. The fact that a Korean athlete had failed a doping test at the Olympics, a sport so important to the entire nation, was enough to make it a hot topic.
Everyone was aiming their arrows at me. I was already wounded and torn by countless arrows and stones. But my wounds didn't matter to anyone. All they cared about was the issue. The mere fact that they had something to criticize others about was enough to get people excited.
I'm now at the center of that accusation. A few days before the Olympics, I was feeling unstable, so I went out drinking with a friend. Was that the root of the problem? He was my most trusted and relied-on friend. He drugged my drink despite knowing the Olympics were coming. It meant he already harbored ill feelings toward me. He'd lost my trust, and I'd lost trust in everyone else.
When we criticize others, everyone is united. They aim their sharp arrows at me, as if I were some monster destroying our country. I could hear it even from inside my home. It started with one person, and now countless others are speaking out against me.
Get out of South Korea. Those who ruined our Olympics can no longer be called citizens of our country. Stop ruining our country's reputation. Take at least a modicum of responsibility.
Everyone is calling out to me with one heart and one mind. Some with live logs, some with petitions, some with picket signs. They all, to prevent the fall of our country's reputation, to condemn my wrongdoings, are united in a spirit of solidarity to oust me.
I'm slowly dying under the weight of countless accusations. My only sin was trusting and relying on my friends, yet they only fired arrows at me.
To people, my existence was a monster consumed by desire, and I had a choice. The first was to become a monster, like the people's standards, making lies real. The second was to become neither beast nor human.
None of these options were beneficial to me. However, the second option would be more convenient. While it's unfair, the second option was the only one I could choose for now. The truth will eventually come out, and only then will people's attitudes change.
That scene flashed through my mind. But it will be even more painful after people's attitudes change. Those who once criticized me will praise me again with just a single word. Nothing is more painful than that. After all, they have no trust in me.
Ultimately, I chose the second option. I had no desire to make excuses to those who didn't trust me. I simply believed my blue blood would speak for me. Even after all the blue blood drained from my body, the red blood wouldn't return, but who would shed tears then?
So, once again, I became a topic of conversation for people. They took the bait I threw out and were caught. I have neither the heart nor the confidence to let them go. I can only watch them struggle and console their wounded hearts.