If You

Emily sat in the ladies’ room, clutching a piece of tear-soaked toilet paper. She wished she’d been strong enough to keep from crying, but after two weeks of Jiyong’s spite she was emotionally exhausted.

He thinks he’s the only one who matters, she thought angrily. I’m not even a person in his eyes.

The bathroom door opened and Emily shrank back, embarrassed to be caught crying. It was a tiny woman, barely five feet tall with black hair cut in a chic bob. She wore trendy glasses and a black button-down that hung almost to her knees. She caught sight of Emily and tilted her head sympathetically.

“Museun il-ya?” she asked. Emily stared at her uncomprehendingly. Great, now I get to look stupid too.

The woman paused for a moment. “Emeelee?” she asked suddenly. Emily gave a tiny nod. Understanding flooded the woman’s face. “American. English?” the woman prodded encouragingly. Emily nodded again, sitting up a little.

“Me English,” the woman shrugged and laughed. “Soo,” she said, pointing at herself.

“Soo,” Emily repeated. The woman nodded brightly. “Sad?” she asked, gesturing to Emily’s tears. Emily shrugged, looking down at the floor.

“Jiyong big fight?”

“How did…” Emily trailed off, knitting her brows together.

Soo laughed. “Jiyong friend. I...listen things.”

Emily smiled. “Hear things,” she corrected. “Not listen things.”

Soo nodded and began washing her hands. “You write. I makeup,” she said, showing her stained hands. “Big mess,” she said, giggling loudly.

She finished washing and reached for a paper towel. “Jiyong no bad. You no bad. Friends soon,” she said, bowing before leaving the bathroom.

I hope she’s right, Emily thought glumly.


* * * * * *

Jiyong stood outside Emily’s apartment building, staring up at where he guessed her apartment was.

I can’t believe I’m doing this, he thought self-consciously, glancing up and down the street. He had wanted to just call, but Seunghyun wouldn’t hear of it. “In person, preferably with flowers or something,” he had said.

Flowers. Yeah right.

He took the elevator up to the third floor and quickly found Emily’s apartment. He sighed loudly before knocking.

There was a pause, then the door opened and Emily stood there, one hand on her hip. “Jiyong.”

Showtime. “I just wanted to apologize for my rude behavior this morning. I was harsh and shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.”

Man, I’m a great actor, he thought, giving Emily his best penitent face.

She considered his apology, tilting her head this way and that. She wore a baggy blue sweater with holes in it, and her brown hair was tied up in a messy ponytail.

Yikes. Is this how all American girls dress? He wondered.

Emily frowned suddenly, as if she had guessed his thoughts. “I’m not stupid, Jiyong. I know Sagowa is making you apologize so I won’t quit.”

Jiyong frowned back. “Fine,” he said, dropping his charade.

Emily shook her head. “You think you can come here after what you did today and that’ll make it all better?” She scoffed.

Jiyong felt his face heat. “I only said what the others were thinking,” he said defensively.

“You don’t have a clue what the others are thinking,” she snapped. “Believe it or not, Seunghyun is my friend. The others might follow suit if you weren’t so controlling.”

“Controlling?” Jiyong took a step forward. “Believe me, if I had any control over this situation you’d be on the first plane back to the States.”

“At least I can choose to stay or go,” Emily fired back. “When was the last time you made a decision for yourself?”

Jiyong clenched his fists. “This is exactly what I was talking about. Your arrogance and entitlement are suffocating!”

“My entitlement?” Emily raised her eyebrows incredulously. “You’re the most entitled person I’ve ever met! I’ve never seen a man pitch more fits than you. If it wasn’t for Seunghyun, I’d assume it was part of being a KPOP idol, but maybe it’s just you being a baby!”

Jiyong reared back and punched the wall, leaving a fist-sized hole. His knuckles stung tremendously, but he didn’t care. Emily took a step back, her eyes wide.

“Feel better?” she sneered.

“I meant what I said,” Jiyong spat, his chest heaving. “You will never get anything out of me.”

Emily smirked. “Then I guess the next few years will be miserable for both of us.” She slammed the door in his face, leaving him seething in the hallway. He let out a shout of frustration and stalked back down to his car.

Insufferable, self-satisfied, grasping…

He got into the driver’s seat and jammed the key into the ignition. He sped away from the curb, clutching the steering wheel tightly.

I’ll get rid of her. Whatever it takes, he promised himself.


* * * * * *
Emily leaned against the door, listening to Jiyong’s angry footsteps recede. She breathed a sigh of relief. He’s finally gone.

She padded into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. The man is like a spoiled child, she thought, sipping the hot liquid carefully. I guess that’s what happens when you always get what you want.

She went back to her computer in the living room and nestled down into the couch. She had open notebooks scattered all around her, her notes from the past two weeks. She already had a considerable amount, and sorting through them was proving to be a huge task.

After tapping at her keyboard for a few minutes, Emily rubbed her eyes and picked up her journal.

Dear Diary, she wrote. Today was rather horrible. One of the guys sent me a text saying the meeting was at seven, but it was a prank and I ended up wandering the halls of YG for over an hour before Seunghyun found me. He was kind to me, though, and tried to assure me that Jiyong and the others would eventually come around. I almost believed him, until the meeting started.

Emily paused, the memory of Jiyong’s outburst still painfully vivid.

Jiyong screamed at me, calling me shameless and ‘an intolerable nuisance’. He said he refused to share anything with a pushy woman like me. I managed to hold back tears until I got to the ladies’ room. Why is he so horrible to me?

Emily turned the page, rallying herself for the next part.

Jiyong showed up a few minutes ago to ‘apologize’, but I knew Mr. Sagowa was making him do it so I wouldn’t quit. I called him out and he exploded again. He got so angry he punched the wall outside my apartment before storming off. I have never dealt with such an entitled, whiny man in my entire life.

Emily set her journal down and closed her laptop. She looked out the window at the cityscape. The buildings were lit up like Christmas trees, a monument to the restless nightlife.

How am I going to make it through the next few years?

Notes