Letters On Our Skin || BangChan

15

"I thought JYP is the CEO of JYP Entertainment?" I whisper to Chan while we follow the desk lady through the corridors.
He whispers back, "Well, he is a major shareholder, producer, and artist, too. That really just means that he makes a lot of the important decisions within the company, but he's not the head of the operation anymore."

It should calm me down, but it really doesn't. It only gives me one more variable to worry about.
We stop in front of a door made from milky glass and the lady from the front desk knocks twice.
"Come in," a voice calls from behind the door and the lady opens it to lead us through.
The office of Jung Wook is a lot smaller than I had expected it to be. Nevertheless, the window front behind the black Mahagoni desk remains impressive.
"Bang Chan and the foreigner girl are here, sir," she announces us.
The foreigner girl? They didn't even bother to find out my name? Or they didn't bother to remember it.
Chan nudges me gently on my elbow, signalizing me that he noticed it, too.
"Ah, right," Jung Wook says, "Please, come in and sit!"

Jung Wook is a man with a friendly face. Other than that, he looks like any regular man. Only the expensive suit gives an indication of the successful and expensive industry he works in.
He sits behind the dark, huge table and pushes a bottle of water towards Chan and me each. I don't really know what to do with it since I am not thirsty, so I ignore it.
Jung Wook leans forward in his chair as Chan and me sit down on the two leather chairs on the other side of the table. The leather is soft, the chairs are comfortable.
Jung Wook turns to me.
"You're probably wondering why I asked Chan to bring you here," he says. I nod.
He opens a drawer and pulls out a bundle of paper, which he then pushes across the table, until both Chan and I can take a look.
It's a stack of printed out pictures.
Pictures that show Chan and me. Chan, Felix, and me outside the casino in my car. Chan and Felix entering the casino. Chan and Felix exiting the casino with me.

Fuck.
I can feel my whole body go tense. Shit.
This can not be happening.
"You've been followed." Jung Wook says to Chan. His tone is suddenly a lot less friendly. "I had to pay to get these pictures. Real money. Do you know how much damage these pictures could have done to you? To the group? To the company?"
I glance at Chan. His face is calm and serious, but not afraid.
Jung Wook leans back in his chair again and says, "At first, I was close to suing you, Miss Park. But judging by everything we found out about you, you wouldn't have been able to pay what we would have wanted from you. I understand you're familiar with the Korean music industry?"
I look from Chan to Jung Wook. I know he can see the fear in my eyes and the way I don't know what to do with my hands. Finally, I say, "Yes."
"This industry is precious. For many, it's everything they have and everything they ever wanted to do. Something like this-" Jung Wook taps the stack of pictures with his thick fingers "-could ruin dozens of lives and countless of careers. We are very lucky that I was able to get a hold of these pictures before the photographer sold them to the next best magazine. You are very lucky, Miss Park."
I nod again, unable to say anything. My breathing is very shallow, I can feel my hands become clammy.

For a moment, he is quiet, watching Chan and me with his hands folded on the table.
Then he says, "Chan tells me you're a dancer. You have been trained for many years."
It's not a question, but the way he says it makes me want to agree.
"Yes, sir," I say, "I have been going to classes since I was a kid."
"We also know you are... between jobs at the moment," Jung Wook eyes me carefully and I sit up straighter, "Have you considered a career in dance?"
"Its always been a dream of mine to make dance my profession, but unfortunately I haven't had the chance to fulfill that dream yet."
He nods again.
"I always keep a close eye on the idols of this company and so I know best what they need to bring their careers to the next level. Sadly, the western music industry is blind to the treasures that Korea could provide them with. They turn their eyes away from the many attempts we made to introduce JYP's groups to them. What JYP needs, what the groups need is a bridge."

I sit back in my chair. He's lost me.
"A bridge?"
"Yes," he says, "A bridge between the American culture and the Korean music industry. Someone who can broadcast the bands of this company to the western world, give an insight into the lives and processes of making music here. Miss Park, I want you to join JYP Entertainment."
I almost laugh.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm not interested in becoming an idol."
Jung Wook huffs a laugh and slaps the tabletop as if I just made the joke of the century.
"Of course not," he says, "Simply being a dancer doesn't give you the potential to be an idol. You have talent, so I heard. But frankly, you'd never sustain the pressures of being a foreign idol in the Korean music industry. You can't sing, I assume? And no offense, but you don't have the face. You're just a dancer."
I narrow my eyes.
What an asshole. He's right, of course, but that doesn't mean he has to rub it into my face like this. How rude and impolite.
I stay quiet, and he says, "I want to give you the chance to make dance your profession. Be a backup dancer for the company. You'll learn the choreographies and, should we need you, will be dancing on stages and in videos as supporters for the main acts. You'll have practice every day of course, here at JYP, with the other backup dancers of the company. What do you say?"