Hostage Handbook

Chapter Eight | Rhapsody

YEOREUM

"Hello?"

It's Yoongi. It's really Yoongi.

I want to burst into tears. I have finally reached Yoongi. I feel as if I have touched my dream.

"Yoongi, it's me," I say, choking on my tears. "I'm Yeoreum."

"Yeoreum?" Yoongi stutters.

"I ran away from Jeon Jungkook. I ran away from that place," I sputter. I've silently rehearsed a speech many times in the car, but everything evaporates into utter desperation at the sound of Yoongi's voice. "Please, help me, Yoongi."

"Yeoreum, it's okay, don't panic. I'll protect you now. Where are you?"

"Seongdeok District."

"Okay, give me a moment," Yoongi utters. A series of keyboard clatters travels from the other end of the phone. "First, go to Sunyang Bathhouse and mention my name. Hide there for about thirty minutes before you move to this address. Listen carefully."

As Yoongi states the address and repeats his directions, I feel as if nothing has changed between him and me. He is still the meticulous genius, and I am still his biggest fangirl.

"Do you understand, Yeoreum?" Yoongi says, his voice slightly tremoring.

I hastily wipe the tears away from my face. "Yes, I understand."

"Please, wait for me, Yeoreum. I won't let anyone hurt you this time," Yoongi utters. "I love you."

I clasp the phone like the strength of my grip will bring me closer to Yoongi on the other end.

"I love you too," I say, trying not to let my tears smother my voice. "I will be careful. You take care too. Bye."

Sunyoung Bathhouse is ten minutes away from where I am. I mention Yoongi's name to the receptionist, and the old lady gives me a backpack of disguises before she leads me to a private room at the back of the two-storey building.

After taking a short bath, I wipe my hand down the steam-hazed mirror to have a good look at my face. My upper face is still swollen with red bulks. I reach for the hyaluronidase I pinched from Mina's suitcase and wield the thin needle over the swollen areas.

I should wear my fillers for as long as possible to stay unrecognisable, but an irrational part of me desperately wants to look like the person Yoongi remembers me as. It might be the last time I see him.

I leave for the guesthouse as soon as I finish dissolving my fillers. The guesthouse receptionist leads me to a small room at the end of the fourth-floor corridor and informs me that Yoongi will be arriving soon.

I wander into the room with careful treads. A small kitchen is on the side of the living area with a television and a dainty two-seater couch. I put my backpack next to the floor mattress and heave a sigh of relief when a vigilant knock rises from the door.

"It's me, Yeoreum," Yoongi says in a voice just louder than a whisper.

I dart to glance through the peephole before I swing the door open.

"Yoongi," I utter. A smile touches my lips only to get immediately dampened by a burst of tears. "I missed you."

I cannot believe I am gazing at Yoongi. I thought of this scene countless times when I slept next to Jungkook, and now it is a reality. Nothing seems to have changed aside from the fact that we have both lost an incredible amount of weight.

Yoongi, my Yoongi, he didn't abandon me. He came. He really came.

Yoongi locks the door and tugs me into his arms, holding me in a dream-like, assuring embrace. His minty aroma envelopes me in a bubble of pristine happiness that isn't contaminated by any version of agony.