Open Book {Mark Lee Series}

Chapter 4

            Clara handed Mark a steaming cup of tea. "Té de manzanilla," she said. "My grandma in Mexico thinks it works for everything from stress to hair-lightening."

Mark did not speak but nodded gravely and accepted the cup from her hand. He took a sip of the chamomile tea as he wrapped his cold fingers around the warm cup.

He sighed heavily. "Well, so much for making a good impression on you," he bemoaned.

Clara almost laughed but realized it was too soon for Mark to find any humor in the situation. "You don't need to worry about me," Clara assured him. "Just focus on yourself right now."

"Yeah, but I don't want you to think I'm the kind of person who would do something like this," he replied.

"And what kind of person would that be?" asked Clara, genuinely interested in his response.

"Well, a bad person, presumably," he answered as he set the cup down on the coffee table and leaned back against the royal blue couch.

"Why a bad person?" she asked calmly.

"Well, it takes a bad person to have something like this happen to them," Mark countered, as if trying to convince her.

"Not bad --- just a person," Clara responded with a shrug of her shoulders.

Mark put his head in his hands, giving up on trying to make Clara understand why he couldn't be perceived this way. "SM wants me to come out with a statement saying it wasn't me in the pictures," Mark commented, watching Clara out of the corner of his eye to see her reaction.

Clara frowned almost imperceptibly, but Mark saw it. "You don't think I should do that?" he asked in response to her unvoiced disapproval.

"Well, was it you in the pictures?" Clara asked pointedly.

"Yeah," he admitted, sounding defeated.

She shook her head. "Then, I don't see the point in denying it. The truth always finds a way to the surface, no matter how hard you try to bury it," she reasoned.

"But it was just a dumb thing that happened. My friends and I were at this lake in Canada. It was super secluded, and we decided to go skinny dipping. It was just a dumb thing that high school guys do," he explained.

"Well, if I can understand that explanation, why do you think your fans can't?" Clara asked as she reached out to stroke his smooth hair.

"But you don't understand how it is in Korea," he argued. "I'm seen as super innocent and wholesome. Something like this could ruin me."

Clara picked up the tea and brought it to his lips. He took a small sip out of obligation.

"You say it could ruin you? But it can only ruin your career, not ruin you as a person," Clara pointed out.

"But isn't that practically the same thing?" he asked, finally lifting his head from his hands.

"Not at all," she replied sagely. She pulled his head down to rest on her shoulder. He sighed against her neck. "You wanna know what I think?" she asked.

"Always," Mark replied.

"I think you need to get out ahead of this story and control the narrative yourself. So, you were young. You were just hanging out with your friends, skinny dipping in a lake. You had no idea that these pictures existed. So, that's your story. There doesn't have to be a lie, here. Tell the truth but control the narrative by getting it out there before others have time to make stuff up. That's my advice, for whatever it's worth," she concluded.

Mark shook his head. "I mean, I see the wisdom in what you're saying, but try convincing SM to handle it that way. They're MO is 'deny, deny, deny,'" he explained. "They're never gonna go for this crazy idea of telling the truth and expecting my fans to be chill about it."

"Maybe they should give your fans a little more credit than that. Maybe they need to believe that your fans are rational, reasonable people who would give you the benefit of the doubt," Clara mused. She looked at his stricken face and felt tremendous compassion for him.

"Hand over your phone," she instructed.

"Why?" asked Mark hesitantly.

"Because I'm going to talk to SM. You're clearly in no condition to deal with them. Let me do it," she reasoned.

Mark looked doubtful, but dutifully handed her the phone. She searched in his contacts and found the number. Mark held his breath as he heard the phone ringing on the other end.

"Yeoboseyo," Clara said in her best Korean. "My name is Clara Martínez, and I represent Mr. Mark Lee as a volunteer advocate. I am calling because he is being pressured to lie about the current scandal he is facing. As his representative, I have full negotiating authority on his behalf."

Mark looked impressed. She had a way of sounding super official and no-nonsense. He liked this side of Clara. It made her seem even sexier.

"No, I am not paid counsel. As I said, I am a volunteer advocate for Mr. Lee. However, should he require counsel, I am more than able to source that for him," Clara went on. She paused for a moment to listen to the SM representative.

"Yes, I understand fully that you had intended to put out a statement denying that it is him, but I must advise you that he stridently objects to such a characterization and demands that he be allowed to craft his own statement," she answered.

"Uh-huh...yes...precisely," she said, nodding approvingly. "I thought you would come around to see it our way," she added. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you." She set the phone on the coffee table.

"Done, and done," she declared, slapping her hands together, symbolically washing her hands of the matter.

"How did you pull that off?" Mark asked in awe.

"Listen, I can bullshit with the best of them. It's all about overwhelming people with words they don't understand and presenting yourself confidently," she said only half in jest. "When you're a woman, you learn that if you want people to listen, you have to MAKE them listen."

Mark nodded in assent. Clara was all about equality. And he had to give her props that she did get shit done. He wasn't sure if it was Clara's cover of him or if it was the chamomile tea, but he was beginning to feel sleepy. He lay his head in her lap, and upon hearing no complaints, he settled in, nestling his nose against her belly. Soon he was fast asleep. Clara watched his lips forming words even though he was completely asleep.

"Back made of steel / legit --- the real deal. / Makin' 'em all back down / Got what it takes / Her destiny makes / This queen, she be wearing her crown."

Claratried not to laugh because the shaking of her belly would wake him and stop hisflow. "This guy is one of a kind. Who raps in their sleep?" she thought. Come to think of it, his sleep rapping had abetter flow than his free style when he was fully awake. Maybe being asleep let him feel freedom hecouldn't feel when he thought he was being observed and judged. Right now, the last thing he needed was tofeel judged. She stroked his smoothcheek and whispered, "You're alright, little buddy."