Paper Dolls

Chapter 44

My stomach is in knots as we walk down the soft carpeted steps, heading toward the stage at the  bottom of the auditorium. Not only does today mark the end of the week before we go into full blown sound checks and recordings before the performance next Friday, today also marks Jiho's return to practices, which he's missed ever since his dating scandal blew up all over social media. 

Since then I haven't seen a trace of the guy who makes my heart beat like it's running a marathon, my phone uncharacteristically devoid of new messages from "Jeju", messages that used to make me smile myself to sleep. 

I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't miss him. Messaging Jiho had become a habit, a crutch that I had begun to lean on. It's only been a few days but the void created by his absence feels like a growing hole in my chest. 

The only way I've been able to distract myself was by pouring every ounce of attention and energy into Dalia and her mysterious circumstances surrounding her death. I've been listening to her solo songs on repeat, as well as those she wrote for her group's comebacks last year.

There are so many hints, it's amazing how I missed every single one of them before Hyeon's discovery. 

The solo song about the rich engaged boy falling for a poor damsel in distress who is loved by many. The group song about loving someone who belongs to someone else. The unreleased lyrics I read in her study room that day at the wake about her falling involve with the devil. 

If the devil had the face of a movie star and the bank account of a billionaire, the public image of a hero but the scandals of a villain then Park Do Yun was the devil personified. Hyeon had been digging up information about the chaebol heir and flooding my phone with them over the past few days.

The more I read about Park Do Yun, the longer his rap sheet grows. Embezzlement, corruption, extra marital affairs, the list goes on but nothing was ever proven or brought to court. The guy is invisible to the law and remains well loved by most of Seoul. 

He married his wife Jung Seo, heiress to an electronics conglomerate at the ripe age of only twenty three. Since then Park Do Yun has been steadily climbing the social ladder and despite being accused of having affairs on multiple occasions, his wife has constantly kept by his side, ever the doting mother and wife.

I wonder what she would have done if she knew her husband was having an affair with Dalia the superstar. Does that make her another suspect? 

Binna and I step on to the harshly lit stage, the heat from the lights above like the sun burning down on our heads. It's still early in the morning and most of the stage crew are hurrying about, making final adjustments to the backdrop and cameras. 

Someones shouting for the glare above to be adjusted, a person on the microphone goes over sound check and I nearly knock into a young woman pushing a set of cameras on wheels to the other side of the stage. 

Binna and I duck and swerve expertly before the dimness of backstage envelopes us like a shadow's hug, the small space strikingly less frantic. The quiet here is a reprieve to my nerves but then I notice that Viva's room is shut, meaning the boys are already inside. 

Binna shoots me a look as we head to the other end of the corridor, the sound of girls fussing over each other becoming louder and louder. 

Our dressing room is in a mess today. Outfits are taped along the walls, according to our line up but that's the most organised thing in the entire space. The girls are scattered through out, most bent over in odd angles as their stylists force them into their outfits. 

Kim's inching towards the refreshment table but her hair is entangled in a comb, held by an annoyed looking stylist. 

Hair clips, sashes, shawls and bits of material occupy every inch of the sofa in the middle of the room, some strewn over the floor and dressing tables. I walk up to my spot by the far left, expertly avoiding the heels and shoes that have been chucked haphazardly over the floor like fallen dominoes.