April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions (33 page)

When I let myself in my apartment, I find a note on the back of the door. Eunhye’s neat handwriting lets me know that she is doing a forty-eight hour shift at the hospital. This means that my mother has no idea I have been gone for the past twenty-four hours. Part of me feels fortunate that Eunhye’s not here to see me in this state, but the other rational part misses my mother. I’m grounded by the innocence and simplicity that Eunhye represents. I quickly call Eunhye and
leave her a message.

Then, I return the missed calls from Lina. My cousin answers on the second ring.

“Where have you been?” Her voice is worried and stressed. “I got a call from one of Mayhem’s guys saying that our debt is paid off. I thought it wasn’t until Saturday.”

I debate clearly whether I should tell Lina what happened, but I figure telling her in person is better. “Choi Sangwoo was able to take care of it.”
By nearly having his arm shot off.
My thoughts travel back to my confrontation with Mayhem at the hospital; he could have cared less about upholding the Saturday agreement. I had high hopes for Mayhem to be reasonable, but instead he supported Danny’s arbitrary approach to collecting the loan.

“Really?” Surprise resonates in Lina’s voice. She brings me out of my musings again. “That’s so crazy May. It makes sense now. Spyder been blowing up my phone. I don’t know if he knows that our debt’s clear. But I’m at the point where I don’t even want to talk to him about it. Let him brew over it.”

I am quiet as I listen to Lina’s rapid voice. Slightly dizzy from everything that has happened, I slowly melt into a mindless puddle.

“Is something wrong?” Lina’s attune to my silence.

“No. I’m just really tired,” I confess to my cousin. “I don’t think I can work at Sansachun anymore. Sangwoo wants me to start working for him full time.”

“Is that a condition of the contract?”

“Something like that. I’ll tell you more in person.”

“I see.” Lina’s voice is soft and understanding. She’s still reeling from the news that her thirty thousand debt has been cleared overnight. “Are you stopping by to tell Mr. Chun soon?”

“I think I’ll just call him. I’m actually scared of confrontation with him,” I confess as Mr. Chun’s angry face comes into my mind’s eye. “I have to make up an excuse or something.”

“I have your back,” Lina offers eagerly. She wants to help me as much as she can. “I’ll add a word in that you’re busy with a family issue. Which is true.”

“Thanks cousin.”

“No. I should be the one thanking you.”

“Lina,” I start to say, but hesitate.

“What is it May?” She holds her breath.

“Nothing,” I mumble. I blow out a batch of fresh air. There’s no point in starting the spiel now. “I have to go, Lina. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“That’s fine. Bye May. Thank you.”

“Bye.”

I hang up the phone. A deep feeling of dread comes over me. I am exhausted. A warm shower, some hot food, and sleep sound heavenly.

H
ER DARK EYES HAVE ME
in a hold. I am the prey locked in the gaze of the predator. She opens her mouth to speak. There’s disdain in her voice and body language. The dark halo that forms around her angelic face twists and turns like snakes. There is horror in my voice, but I cannot make a sound. She comes closer, reaching out for me . . . . The memories and the pain intensify. “No!” It finally escapes my lips. “May!” she hisses my name before the cloud of smoke and kaleidoscope of colors consume her. “Misun,” is my choked sob.

_________________________

M
Y ALARM GOES OFF IN
a rhythmic pattern.
Another nightmare. It’s the fourth nightmare since the shooting and hospital incident. My heart is racing. The sweat clings without mercy to my pores. I turn in bed and stretch, kicking off my warm bed cover. My body aches, especially my arm. I feel a hundred pounds heavier and an impending headache unfolds on the right side of my head. One glance at my alarm clock and I realize I have slept late into the evening.

Today is my last day at The Trax. It is finally time to face the reality of a chapter ending. The vague memory of calling Mr. Chun to let him know I can no longer work sweeps into my mind like a fan. He was less than happy with me, but Lina’s assistance in helping me lie lessened the blow.

It’s been exactly two days since my kidnapping incident, and approximately forty-eight hours since I last saw Choi Sangwoo. He’s been sending me short text messages, asking how I am doing, but other than that, he’s made no plans to see me. Even through the phone, it’s apparent that Choi Sangwoo is too busy for the girl he took a bullet for. But I am fortunate enough to avoid the initiation contract for now. Nonetheless, I know better. For someone like Choi Sangwoo, his silence is much like the calm before the storm.

I drag myself out bed and head to the kitchen for a drink of water. On my way, I realize Eunhye is home. The door to her bedroom is ajar and I can see my exhausted mother underneath her bed covers.

“Mom,” I whisper by the door. “Hi.”

“May.” Eunhye struggles with sleepy eyes. “Are you going to work?”

“Yes. Last day.”

“Call me when you get off work tonight.”

“I will. Go back to sleep.”

“Bye honey.”

I close her bedroom door quietly and continue my journey to the kitchen. Even the simple act of pouring myself a cup of water causes my muscles to ache. I have to fight through the fatigue and headache. I rally my last drop of energy and get ready for work. It is the last day at The Trax, so uniforms are unnecessary. I dress in casual black jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. I study myself in the mirror and realize how much I’ve changed in the last three weeks. The girl staring back at me is thin, gaunt, and dressing like the gangsters around her now–black-on-black.

I think about wearing something brighter to lift up the mood, but I am already five minutes behind the usual bus schedule when I leave the apartment. As I turn down the last step of the apartment complex, I stop abruptly.
What is he doing here?
My conscience cannot contain herself.

Ren stands five feet away from me against an illegally parked car. He waves to me with a weary smile when we make eye contact. How long has he been
waiting for me?

“Hi,” Ren greets me when I reach him. The tattoos on his face are stark in the evening light. 

“Hi,” I answer warily. I notice the gray, unmarked sedan he is leaning on. “What’s going on?” Maybe Ren’s here to tell me news about Sangwoo.

“I’ve been assigned to be your security.” Ren dispels my worries about Sangwoo and transitions me to the next concern.

“Oh no.” I shake my head at his revelation. I don’t need a babysitter. “I’m fine. I don’t need security.”

Ren looks crestfallen. At the same moment his phone rings. A look of relief comes across his face when he sees who it is. “Boss. Yes. I am outside right now. Yes.” Ren hands me the phone. “He wants to speak with you.”

How apt of Choi Sangwoo to be readily available on the other side of the phone line. “Hello?” I take Ren’s phone.

“May.” Sangwoo’s signature voice is smooth over the phone line. “I’ve assigned Ren to watch over you. I had a feeling you were going to go to work tonight.”

I glance at Ren, who is waiting with bated breath. “Sangwoo, I don’t need security. I’ll be fine. It’s my last day at The Trax anyway.”

“You are fearless, aren’t you? A rival gang member kidnaps you and nearly takes your life, yet you go on as though nothing’s happened.” Sangwoo takes the liberty of recapping the past forty-eight hours.

“What am I supposed to do?” The words escape in a whisper. “I have to go on with my life.” Their debt has been paid in full and some more.

“You need security. I will explain to you later. It will do my conscience a great deal if you’d just let Ren take you to work. If you are going to sign on to be an employee of mine, this is one of the constituents. I will see you after work. Have a good last day.” Sangwoo hangs up the phone promptly, leaving me hanging.

I pull the phone away from my ears and stare at it.
Who does he think he is to give me instructions?
My intuition sashays back into the picture; she’s had enough rest. Granted Sangwoo is my future Boss, this still crosses the invisible boundaries of individual freedom. I didn’t even get to ask Sangwoo about his arm and if he’s discharged from the hospital. I suppose I will just have to wait until I see him. Again, even the details of that possibility are vague. I never know when these gang lords are coming or going.

“Here’s your phone.” I hand Ren back his mode of communication. It’s not Ren’s fault that I am all flustered now. The thought of thirty thousand dollars and Sangwoo getting shot for me crosses my mind.
Shit
. I really can’t fight him on this.

“Do you know the way to The Trax?” I ask Ren tentatively. The kinks are working in my mind. How do I retain my independence while trying to balance a gang leader’s desire to control every aspect of my life?

“I am instructed to take you wherever you wish to go,” Ren responds with a passive tone. The tattoos on his face remind me that his call of duty is beyond chauffeur, so I should be treating him with care. I cannot see myself getting used to Ren driving me around.

“Ok.” I awkwardly stand back to let Run lead the way to the gray car.

Ren opens the back car door for me. Already, he is establishing a hierarchy. I don’t want to fight him on it. I know now that it is not my place too. Besides, it would be awkward sitting next to Ren. What kind of conversation can I possibly have with a gang leader’s right-hand man? I settle in the back seat while Ren starts up the car. Ren switches on the radio and the world news blasts the silence away. Perhaps he’s feeling the same awkwardness and wants to ease it. Regardless of the reason, I am grateful for Ren’s tact. I am able to disappear into my thoughts about Choi Sangwoo.

I conclude that Sangwoo haunts me in a very myriad, complex way. I suppose this is the tricky part of a new relationship attempting to establish itself. In essence, Sangwoo’s exact intentions with me are debatable. He is out thirty thousand dollars and a pint of pride. Yet, Choi Sangwoo is willing to shower me with his security and employment offer. I don’t know if I should be afraid of his ulterior motive or his friendship. What does he want with me?
That’s the million dollar question,
my conscience mumbles in a whisper.

Sangwoo doesn’t want a relationship with me. We have established that in a vague manner. Sure, the hint of attraction exists, but the topic of conversation keeps coming back to that damn initiation contract. It doesn’t make sense that Sangwoo truly thinks I’m gangster material.
He just wants you by his side.
My conscience kicks in again.
Don’t forget Dead Girl May.
Damn it all.

“We’re here,” Ren announces, pulling me away from my dark thoughts. His tone is clear and precise, raining over the voices of the radio. Reality drowns out my conscience. 

The familiar streets that lead to The Trax unfold. Just two days ago, I was kidnapped here. The morbid memory is like a sour thought. Now, I return like royalty with my personal armor and guard.

“Are you going to wait here?” I ask Ren with a guarded tone. He doesn’t need to guess that I am having second thoughts about returning to The Trax.

“Yes,” Ren answers with an air of discretion.

“I don’t get off work until twelve.” It’s only polite that I let him know the wait time.

“I will wait.” Ren inclines his head in a manner that lets me know I have no idea how patient he can be. 

I remove my seat belt and leave the car feeling, for the first time, an ominous and nail-biting sensation. I know I am slightly crazy and neurotic to return to The Trax days after my kidnapping incident. For all I know, Mayhem’s gang members are lurking in the shadows waiting for a second strike. Perhaps Choi Sangwoo does have a point about my sanity. What’s more alarming is no one at The Trax knows of the incident. Since the closing announcement, the venue’s security cameras have remained disabled. I argue with myself that because it is my last day of work, I have every right to be here. Besides, Mayhem has the money. There is no need for him or his minions to come after me anymore. The pillow of thought gives me comfort and courage to go to work.

“I’ll see you later,” I tell Ren as he gives me an inexplicable look. He inclines his head towards me again, and I know Ren’s surprised I am not kicking and screaming about this ordeal. Little does he know I plan to give his Boss a piece of my mind later.

I turn to The Trax, committing the steps and walkway to memory. This will probably be the last time I cross this distinctive threshold again. I make my way through the doors to find the skeleton of a once lively and cluttered venue. The walls are stripped bare to its bleak wooden tones. A vast, open area is cold and empty where muddles of tables and booths once were. Even the lights above are dim and forgetful. Only footsteps and soft conversations circle the desolate venue.

It takes me all but three seconds to see Son. He is in the opposite corner of the room chatting with Naili. Son’s intense eyes follow Naili’s rapid lips. As usual, Naili adorns her distinctive dress and demeanor. She waves her arms in the air, stringing invisible words and exaggerated examples. Naili stops abruptly when she catches my eyes. Son follows her gaze with dull eyes that become bright and attentive.