UNDERGROUND | JJK (Being Rewritten)

C H A P T E R 2

P A R K   A R A ' S  P O V

Bass boomed throughout the building, the low hum of it slithered under my skin and rushed through my veins with my blood. Goosebumps lined every inch of my exposed skin and my legs threatened to give out. The nervousness, the fear, the worry finally hit me like a truck, watching the crowd gathered at the huge hall that the lobby gave way to.

My cold hands and fitting clothes were out of place in the hall. Sweat and the gory stench of blood almost immediately threw me off the room but watching the hundreds that had gathered there be completely unbothered as they hollered for the match made me swallow down my disgust for the time being. The ring was at the very centre of the hall and in the darkness that coveted the hall, it was the only spot with multiple lights pointed at the ring with all the glory.

Everything that has happened and was happening in these last few days was going over my head, jumbling up and thundering on me like an unannounced hurricane. Life hasn't been a piece of cake for me. It was always rocks and pebbles. But only when I was getting used to being tossed around, a boulder crushed me. I couldn't help but question every life decision that I had made – everything that had led me here, being pushed around by rough hands as more people poured in through the open door. The big hall felt claustrophobic and my hands were cold and sweaty.

1 0  Y E A R S  A G O

I watched the girl in front of me. Her soft, dark and bouncy curls glittered like sparkled gold as the sunshine poured in on her from the huge window. Maids surrounded her in a half circle — brushing her hair, powdering her nose, fixing her beautiful dress made by the finest designers, worth the food of more than half the starving populations.

"You should smile more, young Miss."

The rest of the maids nodded their heads in agreement, gently prodding at her shoulders until they met her eyes in the mirror. They took a step back then another before bowing and leaving the room together. Only when the door was closed behind them did the girl stare at herself in the mirror. It was me, at least resembled a mirage of what I was.

"Mirae? Are you done?"

I could hear my mother call my name. The sound of her footsteps alerted me that she was at the top step of the staircase. Moving away from the mirror, I took a step back everytime her call neared.

"Han Mirae?"

Two steps closer to the window.

"Mirae! Fifteen year olds shouldn't take this long to dress up."

Who are you to decide that, Mother?
Two more steps to reach the window.

"Han Mirae!"

I was at the window. The ladder was duly placed below window pane. Taking a last look at myself in the mirror, my heart lurched. I looked beautifully curvaceous wearing the white dress that was tailored to fit me like a glove. I looked like the well kept chaebol's daughter that I was; except they couldn't put ornaments on my eyes.

"MIRAE!"

With every bang on my door, I climbed down the steps of the ladder watching the security run into the house at the shouts of my mother. They would never come this way, they would never dirty themselves like I did as I jumped from the last step into the mud. The filth immediately coating my white dress and the stench burning through my nose as I gagged.