Obsession

Dark Alleyways

"Okay, try that line again."

"Okay," I reply. Music once again fills my ears. "We're staying gold, we're staying gold. We'll always be young, even when we're old." I sing gently into the mic.

"Much better. Right, that about wraps it up for today. You can go home." Mr Choi says from the other side of the glass.

"Thank you," I take off the headphones and exit the recording room. I collect my coat from a peg.

"You did a great job today. You should be very proud of yourself."

"Thanks," I smile wearily. I've spent all day in the recording studio on about 3 hours sleep. I could honestly sleep on the floor right here. Mr Choi, our manager but also producer, puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles kindly.
"Go get some sleep and make sure to eat something."

"Okay," I stifle a yawn, "Thank you for your hard work. Good night."

It's been about a month since we moved into our own apartment. We've already released a teaser for JACKpot and have been working practically nonstop preparing for our debut in two months time. This week we've been recording our first single, Gold. It sounds great, I can't wait for it to be released. I hope my parents will like it. When I told them I was going to be in a girl group they were ecstatic.

The reception of the JYP building is empty. The lights are still on but the broad wooden desk is empty. It's so late even the receptionist has gone home. The cleaner, one of the very few people still here, comes round the corner mopping the floor. A surprisingly young woman. She looks as tired as I feel as she bends over her work.

I pass through the glass doors in to the outside. Tall lamps spill orange light on to the pavement. As I stand waiting for my taxi, my breath turns to condensation in the chill air. I blow on my hands to keep them warm. In these kind of temperatures it's hard to believe it's spring already and not still winter.

I turn to look back into the building. My eyes widen. Mark is there, talking to the cleaner. I don't think he's seen me so I step out of the pool of light and into the shadows. I can't help the small flame of jealousy that ignites when I see how close he is standing to the woman. Flirting with her. His hand brushes hers and that's enough for me. I turn away and try to ignore the envious burn in the pit of my stomach. I walk up the street, away from the building, I'll wait for the taxi on the corner.

As I walk past the shadowy buildings I'm aware of how dark it is. In fact, the absence of light is setting me on edge and if I didn't know better I'd swear someone was watching me.

I should've known better.

Without warning strong, bulky arms pull me into an alleyway. I only have time to let out a shocked gasp before I'm shoved into the wall. Who ever it is, a man, his breath reeks heavily of alcohol. The thick stench of tobacco covers his clothes.

Cold brick presses onto my back. I'm about to yell but a rough calloused hand is quickly clamped over my mouth.

"Don't say anything," he growls menacingly. I squirm in disgust as he begins to suck at my neck, his stubble grazing harshly against my skin. His other hand begins to simultaneously undo the button on my jeans.

This is happening.

This is really happening.

Terror, real terror, unlike anything I've ever felt consumes me. I want to run and scream and cry and kick him until he's senseless. But I can't move. I can't move and I feel sick to the core. So repulsed I'm struggling to even force a sound out of my throat.