surrender

After spending two days in the hospital, Ira was finally back on her feet and returned to her dance practice. While she seemed like her usual self, something still felt off. She couldn’t shake the memory of Tawan’s protective touch before she was sent to the hospital. It lingered in her mind as she stepped into the dance room for her scheduled filming.

Throughout the day, Ira distracted herself with everything on her schedule, including two singing lessons, before finally wrapping up for the night.

Changing into her favorite Mardi sweatshirt, paired with a cap and face mask, she felt a small thrill at returning to her post-work ritual. Her manager had encouraged her to touch some grass after work —an exercise meant to help her unwind and disassociate from the pressures of her idol life. At first, it felt like a chore, but over time she began enjoying the simplicity of watching people go about their everyday lives. It made her wonder about the life she might have had if she weren’t an idol. Would she have been the unstable girl chasing a master’s degree, or just another unemployed dreamer?

Stepping out of the building, Ira took a deep breath and looked around, smiling to herself for no particular reason. Finally, I am nobody, she thought. Until four fucking hours. Well.

She wandered to her usual spot, headphones on, letting the music guide her steps. After walking for miles, she settled on a park bench. The bustling park that had been full of children, dogs, and laughter earlier was now eerily quiet. She had no idea she’d fallen asleep until she woke to an empty park, save for a couple sitting a short distance away. Checking her phone, she saw the time: 11:23 PM. There were 27 missed calls from her manager and her mom.

Shit.

Panicked, she immediately called her mom, with the fear she might be coming home with private guards already dispatched to find her all over the city. Promising to be home in thirty minutes, she hurried out of the park, and headed to take the quickest route back.

Cutting through a dark alley, she turned a corner and quickened her pace. But as she walked, an unsettling feeling crept over her. She paused, scrunching her face and glancing back.

Probably just a cat, she thought, shaking off the unease before continuing on her way.

She continued walking, but now the sound of footsteps echoed behind her, growing louder. Her heart raced as she glanced back again and saw someone. The stranger was getting closer. Swallowing her panic, Ira quickened her pace, looking over her shoulder every few seconds. The stranger was still following her, matching her speed.

Now she had watched a lot of fucking documentaries to know she was in danger. She broke into a run, adrenaline pumping through her veins but then the stranger started running too.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Where the hell am I? she thought, her breath hitching. Shit, I was supposed to turn the other way. I’m so fucked.

Ira ran as if her life depended on it —because it fucking did. Her gut screamed at her that this wasn’t just some sasaeng trying to get an autograph. This was something far worse. Desperately searching for a place to hide, she didn’t notice a huge rock in her path.

Her foot caught, and she went flying forward, crashing hard onto the ground. Pain shot through her body as she looked down at her knee, blood streaming down her leg. She reached out to touch it, flinching as pain radiated up her thigh.

“Fuck!” she hissed through clenched teeth. Her mind flashed to her mom and her manager. They’d be absolutely livid —not just about her wandering alone, but about the fact that she had a bikini shoot scheduled next week.

Great timing, Ira, she thought bitterly. Just great. She was taken back to reality when the man she running away from had caught up to her, trapping her from behind.

She screamed and struggled, twisting her body to break free, but he quickly pressed a handkerchief to her mouth. Panic surged through her as her strength began to fade, her vision blurring. She could barely register what was happening, her mind spiraling into worst-case scenarios —her body violated, her life destroyed, just like the harrowing documentaries she’d watched.

But then, a sound cracked through the air —a gunshot.

For a split second, Ira almost wished it had been meant for her. Anything seemed better than the fate she feared.

Then she fell to the ground, her head spinning, but through her hazy vision, she saw the man clutching his arm, crying out in pain. A dark figure emerged behind him, delivering a brutal punch to his nose. The man howled in agony, stumbling backward.

The figure moved with precision, spinning to land a sharp heel kick thudding into the man’s chin and knocked him back a step.

“Please don’t kill me!” the man gasped, holding his hands up in surrender.

But the figure wasn’t merciful. It stepped forward, punching him hard a couple times in the gut. The man collapsed to his knees, clutching his stomach and let out a pained gasp. “Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m just a fan!”

The figure grabbed the man by the throat, hoisting him off the ground and slamming him against the wall. The man’s face turned purple as he clawed desperately at the hand crushing his windpipe.

“You should die,” the figure hissed, voice cold and merciless.

On the ground, Ira coughed weakly, her head pounding with unbearable pain. The sound snapped the figure out of its rage. It turned to her immediately, releasing the man, who crumpled to the floor, gasping for air.

The shadow knelt beside Ira, its movements suddenly gentle.

Ira then smelled a familiar scent —the perfume she had bought for one person only. She still uses it. Relief then flooded her chest, washing away the fear.

A warm hand touched her cheek.

“My Tawan,” she murmured, a tear slipping down her face as Tawan lifted her effortlessly into her arms.

“You’re safe now,” Tawan whispered, her voice steady and reassuring. “Let me get you home.”

Ira let herself sink into her embrace, her body finally succumbing to exhaustion as she passed out.

Tawan’s sharp gaze shifted to the assistants who had arrived at the scene. Her voice was ice.

“Get rid of him.”