Taking A Chance On Love || m.t.

十一 Saucy Sasaengs

After the few days passed, I tearfully bid my parents and parents-in-law adieu before they headed to the airport. I knew I'd miss them, but I was grateful that I'd gotten to see them in person again. That was enough to keep me going, so I cherished that time in my heart.

As the weeks passed, it was more and more clear that our parents coming to see us was a good thing, because I needed all the mental fortitude I could get as I saw the hate mounting ever higher against me.

I often laid awake at night, unable to sleep. As Mark slumbered next to me, I'd stare at the ceiling, hand absentmindedly on my slightly bigger bump. I wasn't particularly thinking about anything special, but the worries of impending parenthood as well as the growing stress at how the hate had not died down like I was hoping it would often kept me awake. Although the hate was still high, it was still relatively confined to the internet until one day when things took a nasty turn from virtual to reality.

I was no longer physically going to work, opting to work entirely from home because of the pregnancy and because I didn't want my colleagues to deal with anti fans on my behalf. That day, I left the house to run some errands I couldn't do remotely. Not having much to do, I quickly finished all my errands, texting Mark that I was making my way back home. He replied that he was on an Instagram live in the living room, asking if I minded being shown in the background or if he should move to his home studio. After thinking for a moment, I replied it was okay and that he didn't have to, I'll just go about my business, meaning I didn't mind being shown in the background. His Instagram lives were usually filled with supportive fans, so I was okay with it. Smiling to myself, I put my phone in my purse, started the car and drove home.

When I got to the parking lot of the building we lived in, I noticed there was some sort of event being held in one of the other residential buildings, meaning the gate was constantly being opened. Thinking nothing of it because I just wanted to get home to my husband who was finally home all day for once, I parked in my usual spot, picked up my purse, and got out of the car. After locking it, I tossed my keys in my purse and made my way to the building entrance.

I was barely 20 feet from the entrance when I was immediately swarmed and surrounded by about 10 or so high school aged girls. Before I could figure out what was happening, they began to yell obscenities and throw things at me.

"Stay away from our Mark, you demoness! You don't belong here! Go to your own kind and stop bothering Mark! You're getting in the way of his career!" They said one after the other, more comments laced with insults and curses so sharp they could make a grown man cry.

I instinctively covered my stomach against their assaults, but the barrage continued before someone suddenly dumped something wet and cold on my head and down my back. I gasped in shock, turning around to see two girls holding a now empty bucket that smelled like ketchup, twin grins of malicious glee spreading on their faces.

"Next time, it won't be ketchup," one of them said, eliciting laughter from the others as I tried to force my way through them, finally breaking through thanks to the help of a couple of security guards who ran toward me.

Another few guards dispersed the crowd who left quickly since their goal had been achieved. I was led into the building, covered in the viscous red ketchup. A whirlwind of emotions flying through my body, I was unable to process anything as they gently led me through the doors. A few residents who were in the little post office on the ground floor looked over curiously with hushed whispers. Unable to find the strength to lift my head, I kept my eyes trained on the floor, guards shielding me from view.

1, 2, 3,...26, 27, 28...

I counted my steps to the elevators where the guards asked me if I wanted to be escorted to my home. Numbly shaking my head, I walked into the elevator, head still down as I counted.