Open Book {Mark Lee Series}

Chapter 5

The conference room was filled with reporters sitting at tables, typing furiously on laptops. Mark peeked out from behind the side doorway at the bustling group. He looked back at Clara who gave him an encouraging wink. His knees felt weak as he considered that whatever happened in the next few hours could decide the trajectory of the rest of his career. He had talked it over with the other NCT members, and they had agreed with Clara that sometimes it was best to just get everything out there and not let information come out in a slow drip that would just keep giving oxygen to the story for months to come. But even with all the support he was getting from his bandmates, he felt afraid to take this step into the unknown. Transparency felt hard in a country where image was king. He could see doing something like this in Canada, but Korea felt like a different world from Vancouver where he spent his early childhood.

Clara, as if reading his thoughts, looked into his fearful eyes and said, "Mark, I know what it is to be from two different places. Being Mexican-American, I've experienced what it is to find your way when you're getting input from two entirely different voices." She placed a steadying hand on the top of his head. "What I've learned is that every culture is a little bit right and a little bit wrong."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mark questioned. "I thought you couldn't judge somebody else's culture."

"It's not somebody else's. It's mine," she countered. "And I have every right in the world to look critically at both of my cultures and decide what things I should keep and what things I should throw out in my own life."

Mark nodded, pretending to be tracking with her, while his stomach did somersaults. Clara pressed on, "Like for example, I'm not Catholic like my Mexican family, but I incorporate some of their practices into my daily life." Clara caught Mark's eye and tried to pull him back into the present moment with her. "For example, my Ita would always bless everyone before they left the house. And if she forgot, we would remind her to bless us. She did the sign of the cross over us and said, 'En el nombre del Padre, del Hijo, y del Espíritu Santo. Amen.'" As she described it, Clara made the sign of the cross over Mark and pronounced the Triune blessing over him. He let out a sigh that he had been holding in for several minutes, just exhaling out some of that stress he was holding in his chest.

He looked back at her one more time before stepping out in front of the sea of reporters. The sudden sound of camera shutters clicked throughout the room as flashes of bright light threatened to unnerve him again. He bowed quickly toward the crowd and then took a seat on the lone chair behind the table. SM had agreed to let him handle the situation, but they were clear that it would be without their support and backing.

Mark cleared his throat to quiet the group. When they quieted down, they stared at him expectantly, waiting to hear his side of the story.

"Thank you all for being here today," he began haltingly. "By now, I'm sure you all have seen the pictures that are circulating online. First, I would just like to say that it's unfortunate that we live in a society that kicks people while they're down. The fact that these images have been sent and re-sent millions of times is really just a sad commentary on what we value and how we spend our time."

He looked out at the expressionless faces of the reporters. As part of this media machine, they seemed to be showing no real remorse for their actions. Mark decided to pivot to his own apology as he saw that his social commentary seemed to be going right over their heads.

"I would like to say that I am sorry that my fans had to see all of this. I was not aware that those pictures existed. They were taken over 7 years ago when I was on a trip to Canada with my family and several close family friends. My friends and I chose to go skinny dipping. It may not have been the best idea, but it was just one of those dumb things you do when you're young and you're with your friends. I would ask my fans' forgiveness and understanding. And, yeah, that's about all I can say," Mark concluded.

As soon as he stopped talking, reporters began to yell out questions. Mark looked confused, trying to hear the questions amidst all the din. He held up his right hand to quiet the crowd. "Please, understand that there is nothing more I can say to shed light on this incident. I was a teen. I did something a lot of teens have done. And somehow pictures were taken without my knowledge. That's it. That's what happened." He bowed deeply at the waist and said, "Joesonghabnida."

He exited the stage through the side door and Clara immediately whisked him away to his dressing room. She locked the door behind them as Mark flopped down weakly onto a white chaise lounge. "Well, I'm not sure how that went," he commented.

"We won't know for a while yet," Clara assured him. "The internet will do its thing. People will get outraged, and then they'll forget about it when they find something else to be outraged about." She slipped a wireless headphone in his right ear and put on a video of four hours of the sound of rain falling on a log cabin. She grabbed a pillow and lay down on the floor beside the chaise lounge. "Just rest," she encouraged. "We might as well hang out here for a bit because there's no point leaving here while there are still reporters lurking around, waiting to follow you."

He reached his hand down and stroked Clara's face. "I don't know how I would have gotten through this without you," he whispered. "Isn't it crazy that I just met you not that long ago and you've been here in one of my worst moments?" he marveled. "Would this be like a weird time to confess to you?" he asked, searching her face.

"Seems as good a time as any," she replied with her signature rural charm. Mark sat up and pulled Clara up to sit beside him. He wrapped his arms around her and breathed in the scent of her skin.

When he pulled away, he took her face in his hands and said, "I hope it's not too soon to say I'm kinda obsessed with you. I mean, is that weird?" he asked again.

"It's only weird if you make it weird, dude," Clara gently scolded. "Stop talking so much and kiss me already."

Mark was more than happy to obey as he lowered his lips to hers. She responded immediately, opening her mouth, letting him explore it with his tongue. Her hands went to his slim waist and her thumbs grazed his tightened abs. Mark felt undone. He didn't know whether it was the stress he was facing or just the sheer sex appeal of this woman, but he suddenly was overtaken by an uncontrollable desperation to be close to her. He attacked her neck hungrily, kissing her, licking her, and gently biting at her soft skin. He let out a sort of primal growl, which upon hearing it, made Clara giggle.

He pulled away quickly, taking several deep breaths to center himself. "I'm sorry. I'm not usually like that," he said, looking deeply repentant.

"Like what?" Clara asked. "Passionate? Carried away? Horny?" she asked with a mischievous grin.

"Oh, God, don't say it like that," Mark pleaded. "That makes it sound worse." His face was red with excitement, and now, embarrassment. "I just usually have more control over myself," he asserted.

"Okay," Clara accepted the information. "But you gotta understand that I accept you all the time because I decided to. It took me a moment to warm up to you, but now that I have, I'm a ride-or-die kind of girl. So, just calm down and be yourself. You don't have to hide parts of yourself from me," she assured him. "When I took you on, I knew you were a hot mess sometimes, but that's OK because I'm a hot mess too on occasion."

"See, I can't imagine that," Mark countered. "You seem to have your shit together all the time."

"Just give it time," she predicted, "and the hot mess will come out at some point."

"Is it wrong that I'm kinda looking forward to it?" Mark asked.

"Whatam I gonna do with you?" Clara asked, rolling her eyes. She knew the triggers that Mark had notdiscovered yet. She knew what thingscould push her to the edge. She secretlyhoped he would never find them, but also knew there was a good chance that themore time they spent together, the more likely it was that he would see her weaknessestoo.