Chapter Text
Jiyeon breathed out shakily, rubbing her palms together in an attempt to warm them. A few cars whizzed past as she walked, the street lights flickering as the night continued to steadily creep in. It was nearing midnight and her heart had finally stopped its treacherous, bone-rattling, frenzied beats and settled down into something more reasonable. Her phone vibrated in her coat pocket, but she ignored it.
No one would be texting her this late at night—it was ridiculous for her to think they’d bother doing something so stupid, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly hopeful regardless.
It vibrated again and she reluctantly dipped her hand into the pocket to grab it and check, only to find her notifications empty. Jiyeon huffed in irritation, stuffing it back into her pocket after another moment. It was glitching again. Another car drove past but she paid it no mind, instead tugging the sweatshirt even tighter around her thin form.
She’d purposely worn a lot of layers; nights in Seoul were hell, especially with her low body weight. It was hard enough during the day, especially with winter already well-settled in and snow beginning to cover the ground. Not to mention, more clothes would drag her down faster. It gave her less of a chance to escape.
Buzz.
Sparing a glance at the buildings towering in the distance, Jiyeon blinked tiredly. Her legs ached from walking; while she'd taken the subway to the closest station, the rest of the journey had to be travelled by foot and, while it wasn't the most significant of distances, it was enough.
She was close, though.
It would all be worth it in the end.
Buzz.
She spared a glance over her shoulder, half expecting to see someone standing there watching her. She’d been reading too many horror strips lately; it wasn't like she had much else to do these days. There was only so much planning that one person could do before it became excessive, and she'd reached that point long ago.
She had far too much time on her hands to plan this.
Buzz.
Growling under her breath Jiyeon yanked her phone out once more, angrily swiping the lock screen and inputting the passcode. No calls, no messages, no voicemails; there was nothing there to make it vibrate. She was tempted to throw it into the street and break it for a brief moment—it wasn't like she'd be needing it anymore.
“What’s wrong with you now?” she muttered under her breath. “I turned off notifications for spam a while ago.”
Jiyeon waited impatiently for her email to refresh, only to pause when she saw it.
An email. It hadn’t been sorted into spam, despite looking the part, and she tapped on the email to skim over the contents. “An app,” she noted. “A chatting app … hah, what?” A small giggle escaped her lips and she scrolled back to the top to check the sender. Definitely spam.
Her thumb hovered over the trash icon; clicking on the link would no doubt just install a concoction of malware and viruses onto her phone. She wasn’t gullible. But she hesitated.
In less than an hour’s time, Jiyeon would be dead—just one of the hundreds of suicides in South Korea; just another statistic. The water would no doubt fry her phone, and even if it didn’t it would be no trouble for her if she destroyed it with viruses right before her death.
She lowered her thumb and breathed out softly, watching it come to life in the cold air. There was still another fifteen-minute walk before she would reach the bridge and … well, if it wasn’t a trick, it’d be nice to have someone to talk to in her last moments. Lord knew she’d been lonely lately, with a majority of her close online friends off busy with their own lives and her offline friends off … somewhere.
Jiyeon clicked the link before she could back out, crouching down as it opened a tab in her browser. She watched with mild interest as the page refreshed itself and then began to download. It only took a few seconds.
She hesitated.
This … was a bad idea. It had to be a trick; what if it was a tracker and now the sender could see where she was going? She was close to the bridge, but if this person—the sender—were to track her phone and find her, she dreaded finding out what would happen. There was a big difference between killing yourself and being kidnapped and murdered. At least suicide was on her own terms.
She swallowed nervously. Too late to go back now, she supposed. It’s already downloaded.
Her stomach was in knots as she clicked the app, the screen flashing white for a few seconds before bleeding away to a login screen. Screen name, phone number, profile picture, email—it … definitely looked like a chatting application. Jiyeon filled out the boxes as she walked, only hesitating when prompted for an icon. Her real face was out of the question; the thought of a stranger knowing what she looked like made her sick to her stomach, so she quickly scrolled through one of the albums on her phone, selecting a relatively normal picture from one of her mobile games in lieu of her face.
Despite her heavy feet, a grim smile came to her face.
"Maybe it won't be so bad," Jiyeon said to herself, glancing up for a moment before returning her attention to her phone. "It'll soothe my nerves, at least."
Or at least she hoped it would. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d carried an actual conversation with a person for more than a few minutes at a time—a month ago? Two months ago?
Whenever the Discord chat she’d been in with her friends had gone quiet. She'd seen them around campus, of course, but despite the regularity of those conversations, she'd never been able to shake the feeling of isolation and loneliness. It never felt quite as real as it should have, which—was probably a warning flag for something.
But it didn't matter. Not anymore.
It wasn't long after she'd finished filling out the information that her phone vibrated in her hand and connected her to someone.
Unknown.
Unknown: … Hello …?
Jiyeon: ?
Unknown: Can you see this?
Jiyeon frowned.
Jiyeon: Yeah. Who are you?
Unknown: … I finally connected. Thank god.
Unknown: It’s not everyday you get a text from a stranger.
Jiyeon: Uh …
Jiyeon: Didn’t you download the app to talk to people, though?
Unknown: Ah. Well … not exactly.
Unknown: I found a smartphone at the subway station, but all it had was this messenger app.
Unknown: I want to find the owner, but I don’t see any contact info or call records …
Unknown: I’ve been sending messages with this app but no reply …
Unknown: All I see is an address and some important-looking numbers saved in notes.
Jiyeon: Numbers? Like a phone number?
Unknown: Not exactly …
Unknown: I’d like to visit the address myself, but I’m currently abroad …
Jiyeon: Okay …
Jiyeon: Well, who are you?
Unknown: Oh, sorry. I didn't even introduce myself.
Unknown: I’m just...a student living abroad. I'm Korean.
Unknown: I could tell you my name, but it doesn’t really matter.
Unknown: You won't find me on search engines. ^^;
Unknown: But anyways …
Unknown: Can you help me find the owner of this phone?
Unknown: I know you must be surprised to have someone suddenly pop up and ask you a favour like this.
Unknown: But still…
Unknown: I’d appreciate it if you could help.
She chewed her bottom lip nervously. It definitely sounded like some kind of trap that would get her murdered—if they really were abroad, then what good would visiting the apartment do? Obviously, if the phone was abroad, so was the owner.
But she didn’t say any of that. Instead, since, apparently, the small, rational part of her brain that remained was on vacation, she found herself typing a response
Jiyeon: Why should I help you?
Unknown: Since you’re the only clue I have.
Unknown: I’ve been trying to find the owner with this phone, but I didn’t find any clues until now.
Unknown: I would really like to find the owner.
Unknown: Then God will be happy.
Oh … are they some kind of religious extremist? She was almost positive she'd seen a movie about this before with her parents; it hadn't ended well. At all.
Unknown: Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mention it before. I’m religious.
Unknown: Nevermind what I just said. I’m sorry if I weirded you out.
Unknown: Can you please help me? I’ll make it up to you if I get to go back to Korea.
Unknown: It’s a really safe place. If you feel unsafe, you can turn around.
Unknown: I know the area. It’s developed.
Unknown: Please?
She considered it for a moment. It wouldn't be hard to just close out of the app and continue what she was planning to do in the first place. But … if she was going to die, she might as well do something nice for someone else beforehand, right? Disregarding how completely and blatantly obvious this person was being of course.
Maybe they were just really young and naive.
Jiyeon: Fine … I’m leaving right away if it feels sketchy, though.
Unknown: Thank you!
Unknown: Just a sec. I’ll send you the address.
Jiyeon copied the address, switching to the map app so she could enter the address. She turned on her location temporarily, waiting somewhat impatiently for it to load. A few seconds later the trip was mapped out for her, and she blinked.
She was expecting it to be far, far away from her current location; far enough away that it could be used as an excuse for why she couldn't go—it was nearly midnight, after all, and the subways were already closed for the night. Instead, she was startled to find that it was only a ten-minute walk from the direction she came; more than likely, she'd passed it on her way here.
Damn, she thought to herself with a sigh. I’m going to feel like a complete asshole if I don’t at least check now.
Jiyeon sighed again, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. Reluctantly, she switched back to the messenger and began typing out a response.
Jiyeon: It's a short walk from where I am right now, but I'll head over there. Sorry for the wait …
Unknown: No, I'm sorry for the trouble … thank you for doing this.
The directions brought her to a high-rise, modern-style apartment complex. Whoever owned the phone—well, they were definitely loaded. She wouldn't be surprised if they’d already replaced their phone if it was really as empty as ‘Unknown’ claimed it was. She punched the button reading ‘14’ into the elevator and leaned back tiredly against the railing, her eyes drooping in exhaustion. The entire day had been far too long, despite how little she'd had left to do. The last few days had been more of an empty build-up to the day she jumped, and she'd spent the majority of those days going back over everything, just to make sure that things would tie up neatly once she was found.
She'd even left a post queued on her blog for tomorrow afternoon as well, despite knowing that it wouldn't have been noticed by anyone important. No one in her family knew about the blog, nor did any of her friends—but she was too chicken to tell anyone beforehand. Then there was the American forum that she was on, to which she’d simply logged out a few days prior and left it unattended. If she never returned, people would assume she’d died—and she was fine with that, because that was her intention.
The elevator dinged and a moment later the doors slid open. Jiyeon stepped out, glancing down the halls and sparing a look at the door closest to the elevator. She passed a total of eight doors before reaching the one she needed, located at the very end of the hall near the stairs.
Jiyeon: I’m here.
Unknown: Good!
Unknown: Is there a password lock on the door?
Jiyeon: Yes?
Unknown: I’ll send you the digits on the notepad … try it and see if it works.
She paused, squinting down at the four numbers on her phone screen. Was he—asking her to enter this person's apartment unannounced?
Jiyeon: … Shouldn't I ring the doorbell? Or knock? I don’t know where you are, but in Korea it's past midnight.
Unknown: You’re right…sorry, I wasn't thinking straight. But this phone seems really important…you should try ringing the doorbell anyway.
There was no answer, obviously, but weirdly enough there was absolutely no sound from inside the apartment either.
Jiyeon: I don't think anyone is home … I want to go back now;; I'm sorry.
Unknown: What? No.
Unknown: Put in the password.
Her hands trembled as she stood there, her stomach twisted tight with fear as she stood frozen in place. It’s just an app, she tried to remind herself, you’ll be fine. Nothing will happen. No one is home … if this person is camped out, waiting to murder you, there'd be some amount of noise … right?
Right?
Jiyeon: I really have things to do. I need to get home, and I can't just enter a stranger's appartment without permission.
Jiyeon: They don't seem to be home, but I can try again tomorrow.
Or never, preferably. The second she got out of there she was finishing what she planned to do.
Unknown: You can just leave a note. You're already there, why bother coming back tomorrow? It's a waste of time.
Jiyeon: Well …
God, she was stupid for even considering it, but if the apartment actually was empty, then she'd be dead before its owner realized she'd entered.
That is, if they even existed in the first place.
Jiyeon: … Alright, fine.
Unknown: Good girl ^^
The door creaked open, completely uninhibited as she unlocked the door, and immediately she took a few steps back, in preparation to bolt if she needed to. Jiyeon half expected for a pair of arms to grab at her from the darkness but, when nothing leapt out, she swallowed and looked back at the app.
Jiyeon: The door’s open.
Unknown: Good. You should go inside.
Unknown: You don't need to be worried, but if something bad happens, you can just show them my messages.
Jiyeon: I suppose …
Unknown: Th
Unknown: ank
Unknown: you
Unknown has left the chatroom.
"He disconnected?" She frowned, flicking the light on carefully as she nudged the door mostly closed, taking care not to let it close entirely behind her. "That's inconvenient …" And suspicious.
It was a surprisingly spacious apartment, especially compared to the tiny one she called home, with a few different rooms spaced evenly across the hallway. None of them were open, so she headed past them and into the living room in hopes of finding something to write with. Every few seconds she glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see someone lunging at with a knife in hand—but thankfully found nothing of the sort. It really did seem to be empty.
As she entered the kitchen, she was surprised by a rapid buzzing from her phone, followed by an awful screech from the speakers. Jiyeon all but threw it from her hands, the phone skittering across the island as she backed away, her eyes wide in fear. The noise died away a moment later, but she was frozen in place, too startled to approach the electronic.
Paper, paper, she repeated to herself, in an attempt to ignore how her heart was hammering in her throat, as she slid out of the kitchen. She reluctantly grabbed the phone as she passed the island, heading into the living room while sparing a glance down at the screen.
She scanned the chat, her heart pounding a mile a minute. The messages flew rapidly across the screen and her eyes widened in surprise. What was this, a Twitch chat?
"They type way too fast to keep up." She sighed and watched as more texts continued to flood the screen. Reluctantly, she leaned back against the arm of the couch so she could skim the most recent messages.
Jiyeon: Uh … hello?
Oh god, more text walls. Jiyeon shivered, feeling no warmer in the apartment than she did outside, and reluctantly resumed her search for paper and a pen. She read over the messages as she searched and, after a while, she gave up and leaned back against the island.
707: Oh…^^; Wait.
707: Just found something. This is weird.
Zen: What is it. Hurry and tell me.
707: I traced the IP …
The phone was out of her hand before she could finish reading the next message, panic gripping her throat and making it hard to breathe because they were tracking her. They knew where she was; they knew exactly where she was and could come and find her.
Come and get her.
By the time she mustered up the courage to pick up her phone again, ‘707’ was talking about hacking and it took all her self-control to not drop the phone again. Instead, she breathed in shakily, hands trembling in fear.
Damage control. Damage control—she had to appease them before they did something to her. With how badly her hands were shaking, she began to wish she hadn’t disabled autocorrect, because it was taking longer for her to fix her typos than to actually type out the message.
Jiyeon: i'm sorry
Jiyeon: someone found this person's phone and gave me directions here; they wanted me to leave their contact information behind.
Jiyeon: I'll leave after … I’m not planning on staying. I have things to do.
707: lol
707: What sort of things are you doing at midnight?
707: Sounds suspicious~~
Yoosung★: Should we … introduce ourselves?
Jumin Han: Are you serious right now…?
Jaehee Kang: I think it is a bit too early for that.
Jiyeon was inclined to agree, but Zen apparently was not.
Zen: Hi. I'm Zen, 24 yrs old. I'm a musical actor...don't look me up on the Internet, please.
Zen: It's embarrassing.
He sent a selfie, and she blinked a few times in surprise. He had some guts, sending a picture of himself to a random stranger … not that she was surprised. If she looked like that, she’d take selfies, too.
Jiyeon: Oh … nice to meet you, I guess.
She hesitated, unsure whether or not she should introduce herself or not. It couldn't do much harm and, if anything, it'd at least garner some amount of goodwill if she attempted to be friendly with them.
Jiyeon: I’m Jiyeon, I just turned 19 … I don't have a job, since I go to school full time.
707: lolol ur a baby
707: My nickname’s 707.
707: Real name is a secret.
707: FYI, Zen’s real name is Hyun Ryu.
Zen: Your name’s a secret but not mine?;;
707: U don't care anyways lol.
Jaehee Kang: 707 does have the strangest name so I understand the secrecy.
707: The name’s too holy to be spread around~ I’m gonna pray after I finish hacking.
Zen:
Zen: Pray, yeah right ;;
707: Just remember me as the 22yr old young hacker lol
707: Where I live is also a secret.
Zen: So many secrets ;;
Yoosung★: I'm Yoosung! I'm a university student as well … 21 yrs old.
Jumin Han: I don't know why everybody’s introducing themselves. You don't even know who this person is.
Cue a picture of Yoosung—wow, he was young. Older than her, but still … and her mother had the nerve to say she had a babyface. Was he really 21 years old?
707: So warm and fuzzy here
Zen: Lol. Seven, you don't have any selfies to show?
707: Nothing recent.
707: Oh and also!
707: Jumin’s the heir of a pretty famous corporation and Jaehee is his assistant. 27 and 26yrs old respectively. u've probably heard of him before.
707: You have a better sense of who we are now, Jiyeon?
Jumin Han: Why did you say that…?
707: Doubted you'd do it urself.
Jiyeon: … so I'm the youngest?
707: Apparently so.
707: Oh, fyi. Jumin has the cutest cat.
Jumin Han: Hey.
Jumin Han: Why are we talking about Elizabeth the 3rd to a stranger?
Jiyeon: oh!
Jiyeon: My parents have a cat too,
Jiyeon: his name is Leo.
At first, she smiled at the photo that 707 sent in of Jumin petting a cat—only to freeze, because Jumin Han was petting a cat; that is, Jumin Han, heir to C&R International.
This is bad, she thought anxiously, a tremble running down her back. This is really bad.
Her luck never managed to fail her.
Yoosung★: That info is a bit useless …
Yoosung★: we're not even close to this Jiyeon person yet lol
Jumin Han: Can't believe he showed a photo of Elizabeth the 3rd to a stranger…
Jumin Han: Idiot.
Jumin Han: I know you came to my house the other day and harassed her. It's all on CCTV.
And that—that was 707, huh? He definitely looked … interesting, for lack of a better word. She couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for Elizabeth, but at the same time, it didn't appear like she was being harmed, so …
707: My precious privacy!
Zen: Yeah, since you care so much about privacy.
Yoosung★: CCTV screenshots omg
Jumin Han: And Yoosung.
Jumin Han: Is my Elizabeth the 3rd useless?
Yoosung★:
707: That was so fun~~
707: I want to see the cat again~
Jumin Han: No.
Zen: Stop talking about cats. It's giving me goosebumps.
Against her better judgment, she opened up one of the doors in the hallway, flicking the light on with only a slight amount of hesitation. Ah—found the bedroom. Jiyeon moved over to the desk, running her hand across the top of a red and black desk chair. This person was definitely loaded. According to the people in the chat, the apartment belonged to someone named Rika.
No obvious notebooks or papers lying around, but she did find a pen.
707: Helloo??
707: Stranger Jiyeon??
Jiyeon: Oh, sorry
Jiyeon: I’m looking for a piece of paper.
707: Gasp!
707: Breaking and entering and theft!?
Shit. Fuck.
Jiyeon: No--I’m sorry, That’s not what I meant. Like I said, the person I first connected to sent me this address, so I was going to leave a note with his contact details.
Jiyeon: His screen name was ‘Unknown’. Have you talked to him too?
Jumin Han: Unknown?
Zen: Maybe he just didn’t set a username?
Yoosung★: Did he set his username as Unknown?
707: It’s mandatory to set a username, so he must have set it that way.
707: Maybe …
707:
707: A hacker …?!
Yoosung★: !!!
707: I have everything covered!
707: Hey, Jiyeon. So he told you the password for the door lock?
Jiyeon: yes, I still remember it if you’d like me to prove that …
707: Nope!
Jumin Han: That ‘Unknown’ person could have dragged you into this, then, provided he's real.
Yoosung★: But …
Yoosung★: How did you end up chatting with him?
She hesitated.
Jiyeon: He was just the first person I was connected to.
Jaehee Kang: I see.
Jaehee Kang: Where did you download this messenger app?
Jiyeon: it was attached to an email I got. I just wanted someone to talk to.
Zen: So cute lol
707: Dangerous~ Spam emails will give you viruses.
707: Anyways.
707: I should trace the person who distributed the app. I’ll take a look at the email.
Jiyeon: Do you want me to forward it to you?
707: won’t be necessary.
707: I have my ways lol
Jumin Han: If what she’s saying is true.
Jaehee Kang: I think it would be a good idea to contact V.
707: Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.
707: I’ll call and explain everything.
Jumin Han: I can call.
707: Already on it lol
Still no paper to be found. Jiyeon cursed under her breath.
Jiyeon: Does that really matter?
Jiyeon: I’m planning on leaving when I find some paper to write on. I have things to do tonight.
Jumin Han: No.
Yoosung★: Maybe we should tell Jiyeon what this chatroom is for?
Yoosung★: She has to know how serious it is that she’s here!
Jumin Han: What’s more serious is that she’s in Rika’s apartment.
Feeling defeated, she slumped down on the couch and resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. All she wanted to do was talk to someone before she died; hell, she was just planning to do one last good deed before dying and instead this happened.
Was it some kind of punishment? She couldn’t think of anything serious enough to warrant this kind of retribution, but there were plenty of mistakes that had accumulated over the years—perhaps this was simply her final punishment for all the things she had done wrong in her life.
707: Wecan.
707: Sorrycallingvandtypingwithonehand
Yoosung★: Type after you finish the call.
707: Lookedintoownerofdevice.
707: she’scutelol
Her blood ran cold. Immediately she slammed her thumb over the front camera, a cold sweat breaking out across her back.
Jiyeon: Wheredid you get that info
Zen: He’s a hacker. He probably saw your fb or ig page already.
707: notthereyet
707: iwillifineedtholol
Jumin Han: What? They're really a girl?
707: ya
Zen: Show us the photo.
Jiyeon: No.
Jiyeon: Don’t send any photos of me.
Zen sent in another message that she barely processed, and although the period of time between 707's last message and his next one couldn't have been more than a handful of seconds at most, the sheer amount of raw panic coursing through her veins made it seem like hours had passed before 707 finally sent in another message.
707: Wasn't planning on it~
707: How dare you try and violate someone’s privacy like that.
It took a good two seconds to load the image being sent, but tears were already forming in her eyes. Jiyeon hadn’t uploaded a picture of her face in a long time—the only places she posted pictures were her private Instagram and the American forum, but it was rarely her face that she showed people. Neither of those were connected to her personal accounts, for good reason.
Then again, if 707 really was a hacker, she wouldn’t put it past him to somehow find those as well.
… That was even worse than the thought of him hacking her camera and spying on her.
Thankfully, the person in the picture … definitely wasn’t her, for which she was thankful for. It calmed her nerves slightly, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for Jaehee. Jiyeon was perfectly content with reading their messages and relaxing, to be honest, if she ignored the blaring, screaming warning sirens that were going off with the knowledge that Jumin Han was in the very same chatroom as her. It wasn't like they needed her input, after all.
Her phone vibrated against her palm, and she swiped down to check the time—holy shit, it was already twelve-thirty. She couldn't help feeling a bit bad for cutting their conversation off so abruptly, but really … it was getting ridiculous.
Jiyeon: Listen
Jiyeon: I’m really sorry for coming into the apartment, but I can’t stay.
Jiyeon: I’m supposed to be home soon. My parents are expecting me.
That would work, right?
707: lol
707: u don’t live with ur parents though. ur in a different province entirely.
Jiyeon: … How would you know?
707: I’m a hacker~
Jiyeon: I’m visiting for break. I need to catch a plane in the morning.
707: lolol ur desperate
707: but ur parents aren't in Korea right now
707: and u haven’t bought any plane ticket to America.
Jiyeon: my parents bought it.
Jiyeon: listen, I just wanted to find the owner of this phone.
707: Owner of the phone?
707: You were phished lol
707: According to V’s guess, Rika … the person who used to live there
707: had this ‘Unknown’ convince u to go to the apartment.
Jiyeon: That doesn’t make sense.
V has entered the chatroom.
Jaehee Kang: Either way, this chatroom is strictly prohibited to strangers.
Jaehee Kang: If I may say so, I think that we must verify what Jiyeon has said.
Jaehee Kang: For all we know, she could have simply made up this ‘Unknown’ person.
Frustration was beginning to creep forward and Jiyeon rubbed her temples tiredly. 707 saw straight through her lie and, even worse; he’d called her out on it in front of the entire group. Still, she had to get out of this somehow. She wasn’t going to just … stay there for however long and let herself find a reason to chicken out of her death.
She’d been planning this day for months. A carefully picked date, time and location; she’d wrapped up all her personal business and got it sorted out.
Briefly, she considered simply deleting the app; it was too troublesome and she was thirty minutes past her date-with-death. But, at the same time, despite the irritation that had taken hold of her, this was the most interaction she’d had in weeks. She’d forgotten how nice it was to just see people interacting around her, even if it didn’t come how she wanted it to.
… A little longer couldn’t hurt, right?
707: Now then~
707: Shouldn’t we explain to Jiyeon about Rika and RFA?
Jiyeon: Oh … you don’t have to. It doesn’t really matter anyways.
Zen: How chic …
Zen: Cute is nice, but chic women have their own charms.
Jiyeon: chic?
Jumin Han: He’s insane, ignore him.
God, she was tired; her eyes burned from exertion and the pit in her stomach was even worse than she'd expected it to be—a gaping, endless void that she could never satisfy. "What a joke," she said to herself, her eyes slipping shut for a brief second. "Why do I do these things to myself?"
It was with great reluctance that she returned her attention to the chatroom.
Yoosung★: Jiyeon, you may not be interested right now, but will you at least listen to what we have to say?
Yoosung★: You are involved now that you’re here.
Jiyeon: I really can’t just leave …?
707: I’ll just track ur IP if u do~
707: If u don’t cooperate, we can all team up to put you in trouble.
Like it’d make any difference; if she just turned off her phone and walked back to the bridge, he wouldn’t be able to find her.
… Right?
707: First, we all know that u trespassed on the apartment^^
Zen:
Zen: Is that a threat?
707: Yup. I will threaten anyone in here who doesn’t follow V’s decision.
707: I am V’s slave.
V: … Uhm. Thank you?
Jiyeon: I could just turn my phone off …
Jaehee Kang: I am ready to call the police if necessary.
707: if u turn off ur phone, I’ll just track u when it comes back on.
Jiyeon: It won’t.
Jiyeon winced as soon as she sent that. Too much information; these were strangers, and a vague comment like that could easily be taken as a threat—or even worse, a clue to what she was planning.
Still, it was too late to take it back now.
707: u can’t keep ur phone off forever.
707: and I know ur name
707: age
707: address
707: dob
Zen: I think she gets it.
Tears were once again beginning to blur her vision, and her throat was tightening up. It wasn’t fair; why were they trapping her like this? She hadn’t meant to trespass; she’d been tricked. Tricked by that Unknown. Why did this have to happen to her? Why couldn't they just let her go on her way already—what purpose was there even in keeping her there, really?
707: so, will u cooperate?
Jiyeon: … I have no other choice, right?
707: ya
Jiyeon: so, I’ll listen.
Not cooperate, but listen. She’d hear them out and wait until it was safe to escape … and then she’d run. She’d run all the way to the bridge, swing her legs over the edge, and plummet into the Han River. If she did it this late at night, no one would find her body until morning, at the very least.
If the hacker knew her name, he’d know. But the rest of the group would be ignorant and she was just fine with that. The less people who knew who she was, the better.
The rest of the conversation she spent in silence, only bothering to type one or two words when prompted; apparently, Rika, the owner of the apartment, passed away almost two years ago. From what, she wasn’t exactly sure, but she didn’t dare ask.
But when the conversation took a turn for her replacing Rika, Jiyeon put her foot down.
Jiyeon: V.
Jiyeon: I don’t think Rika chose me at all.
Jiyeon: It was just a coincidence … I really can’t be planning parties, and I was supposed to be somewhere awhile ago.
Zen: Isn’t it dangerous for a girl to be out this late?
Jiyeon: It doesn’t matter.
Jiyeon: I never agreed to host any parties … I can’t do it.
V: Please, consider it.
V: These parties are held for good causes; hosting them allows us to help a lot of people.
She winced. She doubted it was intentional on his part, but V’s words left a pit of guilt stewing in her gut. That was why she came in the first place, after all, despite her plans to die; so she could help someone out with her pathetic excuse of a life.
But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
Jiyeon: I don’t have any of my things, though … and I have a plane to catch.
707: Are u still trying to convince us of that?
Jiyeon: I’m not convincing anyone; it’s the truth.
707: u can go back to ur apartment tomorrow and get ur stuff.
Jiyeon: Aren’t you afraid I’ll run if I head back to my apartment?
707: I’ll find u if u do~
She bit her lip. If she turned off her phone, she’d be fine. She had to leave, soon, before they backed her into a corner.
V: I’m sorry …
V: But I have to leave.
707: Ok. See u later, V.
V: Jumin.
Jumin Han: ?
V: Please take care of things for me.
Jumin Han: … Alright.
V has left the chatroom.
707: … V’s gone.
Zen: Yup. What’s he so busy with?
Jumin Han: None of your business.
707: Anyways, we should follow what V said. Jiyeon, u can log into this chatroom from time to time, right?
707: Please log in at times and do what Rika did.
707: All u have to do is use the features in this app. It's not much.
Jiyeon: … Can I do that from my apartment?
707: No.
707: Most of it is just checking emails.
707: All party related emails in Rika’s computer
707: will be transferred to this app only if ur in her apartment.
707: If u leave the apartment they won’t work, so u need to at least visit frequently enough to check it.
Zen: You should come and chat with us as well.
Zen: It'll be awkward to host a party with someone we don't even know.
Jumin Han: Why doesn’t everyone stop talking and Assistant Kang summarize everything for her.
Jumin Han: And officially invite her to the organization.
Jiyeon: Oh …
Jiyeon: That’s alright. I understand it all.
Jaehee Kang: I will explain, regardless.
Jaehee Kang: RFA is an organization Rika created so that anyone can freely make donations regardless of class or nationality.
Jaehee Kang: At the time, she hosted quite large parties once every two years, and they were very successful.
Her stomach felt heavy.
Once every two years? Was she going to be trapped here for two years? Hell, she had to start back up at University in March—Jiyeon couldn’t afford that. She wasn’t even supposed to make it to March in the first place.
Jiyeon: I can’t do that.
Jiyeon: I’m sorry. Two years is too long for me to stay around; I have things to do, and I have a time limit.
707: lol
707: Don’t worry
707: It won’t take two years.
707: We check that everyone’s alive with this chatroom and literally just chat.
Yoosung★: We shared our memories of Rika, too.
Jaehee Kang: … Jiyeon, I think you were led to that place without any explanation.
Jaehee Kang: If V is right, it seems that someone sent you there to fill Rika’s position.
Jaehee Kang: Considering that you knowing about the existence of the apartment satisfies the conditions for joining the organization …
Jumin Han: There are currently six members. Me, V, Zen, 707, Yoosung, and Assistant Kang.
Zen: If you join, there will be seven.
Yoosung★: Is she … really going to become a new member?
Zen: If you join the organization, we’ll be able to talk more. Not every day we meet a pretty girl.
707: Uhm. How do you know she’s pretty? I didn’t even send the photo.
Zen: Send the photo.
707: No.
Zen: Damn.
Jumin Han: We didn’t hear from Jiyeon yet.
Jumin Han: Jiyeon.
Jumin Han: All we are trying to do is host parties, raise funds, gather people … things such as that.
Jumin Han: Our organization has done a lot of good so far.
Jumin Han: You will not regret joining.
Except, she would. Because every day she spent living was a regret; Jiyeon lived with regret, carried it on her shoulders, had it weighing her down every second of the day.
She regretted even downloading the app. Her own selfishness had caused this; she was in this situation because she wanted company. But there was a reason she didn’t have close friends anymore, that her ‘friends’ didn’t talk to her, that her parents were so willing to let her go so far away for university without a second thought.
Because she didn’t deserve those nice things.
So it was with that thought in mind that Jiyeon shut off her phone, shoving to her feet and pacing around the room, her hands grasping her hair desperately. Her phone lay forgotten on the couch, and it felt like the spacious living room was closing in around her. She’d made a mistake, turning her phone off. She’d left before they could extend the invitation, but their earlier threat rang in her head.
They were probably already calling the police on her now. Jumin had power, influence, and money—lots of it, while 707 already had all the information that he needed to ruin her; something that she couldn't let happen.
I have to get out.
Jiyeon slammed out of the apartment door with her phone shoved deep into her coat pocket beneath the sweater, zipped up so it wouldn’t fall out. She jammed a finger against the elevator button, her foot tapping anxiously as she waited for it to arrive. It was hard to see through the tears in her eyes and as soon as the elevator door slid open she all but ran in, desperately hitting the close button.
Hurry up. Hurry up.
Anxiety crepty forward, clasping around her throat and choking her, and in the silence and solitude of the elevator, with no one around to see, she cupped her hands over her mouth in a desperate attempt to regulate her frantic, panicked gasps. Her phone was so heavy in her pocket, a weight that shouldn't have existed in the first place.
When she reached the first floor she burst out of the building, taking off in a run the way she came. Back to the bridge. She had to hurry.
She had to jump before they found her.
Her lungs burned, her legs trembled, and the tears made her shaky, but she didn’t stop running. Those who were still out stared at her oddly, if not with disgust, and she didn’t blame them; she looked like a high schooler. Out after midnight, with her weaknesses and shame displayed openly for everyone to see—god, she was going to get the cops called on her by someone else entirely if she didn’t just hurry up.
The door of the convenience store slid open, and Jiyeon wasn’t able to stop in time to avoid barreling into the man. He yelped in surprise and she barely managed to avoid stumbling and falling straight to the ground—but the force of the impact left her hunching forward as she struggled to catch her breath and keep herself upright.
“Oh, crap!” The person sounded startled. “Are you okay!? I’m so sorry—I didn’t see you!”
She attempted to stifle a cough, but her lungs burned with a ferocity that made it impossible to hold in and through a curtain of her hair, she saw him step forward. "I-It's fine," Jiyeon croaked, quickly righting herself as she attempted to blink away the tears blurring her vision. When it didn't work, she pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes with a shudder. "It's fine. Sorry, I'm—" her breathing stuttered momentarily when she pulled her palms away, "I'm in a hurry."
Jiyeon quickly moved to step around him, only to be halted when a hand grasped her arm gently, and she quickly ripped it away, ignoring how her skin crawled from the contact.
"Ah—sorry," he apologized, and she ducked her head when he looked down at her. "Where are you going? I can call you a cab; it’s pretty late for a kid to be out.”
“I-I’m nineteen,” she managed, through clenched teeth. She was losing time. Were those sirens she heard, or was she overly paranoid? “And I’m fine. Please, let me go.”
She was desperate. The bridge was another twenty-five-minute walk, but she could probably make it in fifteen if she ran the entire time.
Fifteen minutes.
Cops.
Another sob ripped from her throat and she trembled, her hand coming up to cover her mouth and muffle the sound. The man was panicking now, unsure of what to do. "A-Are you sure?" He asked.
"I’m—” she almost blurted it out. I’m in trouble. But that was too vague, and she didn’t want to get in more trouble for it. If she dragged more people into this mess she’d made for herself, then she’d only feel guiltier when she jumped.
“Ah … crap, what do I do?” he muttered. “I—are you hurt? I’m Zen—” her blood ran cold at that. Why was he here? “—you don’t need to be scared, or anything … I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
Had that 707 guy sent her picture into the chatroom after she turned her phone off? No … he hadn’t called her out yet, so probably not. If he knew what she looked like, he’d be forcing her to stay and calling the police. Then again, the last selfie she’d taken was seven kilograms ago. Her face had thinned considerably.
Her mother had been disgusted the last time she’d come to visit, and Jiyeon had weighed three kilograms more back then.
“ … My parents are expecting me.” Was all she said, her voice more stable than it should've been; allowing herself to break down further after his introduction would only arouse more suspicion. “It’s across the …” Did she dare say it? What if he saw right through her? “It’s across the Mapo Bridge. I need to hurry.”
“The Mapo Bridge?” He repeated. “You mean the suicide bridge?”
Wincing, she nodded. “It’s almost one already, and they’re probably worried sick. And … and my phone is dead,” she lied. “I need to hurry.”
He glanced down at his own phone. “Uh … do you want to use mine, then? I was just on my way home, but if you need to call them I can wait. I’d hate to leave a pretty girl out here by herself … especially crying.”
Head down. Don’t look. He probably knows what you look like.
“It’s fine,” she attempted. “Please, just let me go. I want to get home soon.”
Zen seemed unsure, but eventually agreed. “If you're sure … are you sure you’re alright, though? You look awfully shaken.”
She cracked a small smile, but he couldn’t see it. “I’m fine. Some guy was just … threatening me over a messenger before my phone died.”
“Over a messenger …?” he questioned. “Uh … is it safe for you to be walking home, then? The subway's already closed for tonight.”
Probably not. But she wasn’t walking home, and he didn't know that.
“I’ll be fine.”
Zen was silent for a moment, and Jiyeon took that as her cue to leave. “Sorry … for bumping into you.”
“Ah, it was my fault,” he said, “uh … get home safely. If you need any help, just … find a police station?”
Jiyeon nodded, because arguing would get her nowhere. “I will. … Bye.”
She took off in a run again turning the corner ahead and sprinting forward. She could hear sirens; she swore she could hear them. If she didn’t do this now, they’d arrest her. Her parents would be ashamed—they’d have to fly out from America, from their vacation, to bail her out, all because he was gullible and naive and trying to help.
After nearly five minutes her side was splitting and her vision was wavering. She hadn’t eaten in over a day; fully expecting to be dead, Jiyeon hadn’t wanted anyone to look at her disgusting body, filled with food she didn’t deserve, and …
She stumbled against the building, tears pulling at her eyes. Her chest heaved for air, struggling to breathe, and when she tried to take another step her vision blurred and she nearly fell forward—so she slipped into the alleyway, crouching low and struggling to catch her breath. Her chest burned and her heart pounded relentlessly; her bones ached—she was so tired.
“Hey!” She heard Zen call out, and she quickly slammed her hands over her mouth to stifle her frantic breathing. “Hey! Are you here?”
Her shoulders shook. No, no—did he know? Did he recognize her? Why did it take him so long to follow?
She heard him say, “Seven, are you sure this is where she went? Hell; are you sure that was even her? She looked so different from the picture you sent.”
Where were the cops? Why was he searching for her?
He walked forward, growing closer, and she pressed herself up against the wall and hoped the shadows hid her. She was thin enough to not be seen, right? She’d worn dark clothes, which should blend in with the shadows, and she was trying to be quiet.
“I’ll go back and search somewhere else l guess …”
His footsteps retreated and Jiyeon waited a good minute before daring to leave, checking to make sure Zen wasn’t in the vicinity before reluctantly picking her pace back up. She didn’t want to run; hell, she doubted her body could take it. But she was so close and he was going to find her if she didn’t hurry.
Eventually, she reached the bridge; everything ached, every breath grated against her lungs and throat, and she grasped the railing tight as she coughed. They stretched up above her; the tall railings had been implemented to stop people from jumping; not that it did much, though.
She wouldn’t let that deter her.
Jiyeon hauled herself up onto it, struggling to get up; she cursed her short stature and the railings. Once she finally made it, she let herself rest there for a moment.
The water was so dark.
You don’t have to do this, a traitorous part of her whispered. Turn your phone back on and say it died. You don’t have to die.
But she did. Because that's what she deserved.
Her arms burned, itched from the healing wounds there. Her legs felt similar.
She’d ruined herself beyond belief, this time. If she didn’t jump, didn’t die then Jumin and that 707 would find her and arrest her.
I’d rather die.
But her fear stopped her. It crushed her, paralyzing her from her spot on top of the railing. Her mother, father … would they mourn her? She hoped so, but didn’t cling to that hope. She was a failure of a daughter—she didn’t deserve kind parents like them. They deserved so much better than her; they’d probably be happy she was gone; happy that their horrible, disappointing, failure of a daughter was no longer a burden on them. She didn’t deserve the kindness they bestowed upon her.
Jiyeon coughed again, blinking away the sudden blurriness. It was so cold. The water was probably just above freezing temperatures.
Just jump.
She wobbled, nearly losing her balance, and her hands gripped onto the railing even tighter, heart pounding. She had to do it, she had to she had no choice, no choice but—
She was so scared.
Jiyeon sat there for nearly ten minutes, staring down at the water and trying to urge herself to jump. The water was dark and she knew it’d be freezing cold. She’d die painfully, from hypothermia or drowning. The thought hadn’t seemed so daunting until now. When she planned this, when she used it as her reason to get through the semester, it hadn’t seemed so scary.
It had felt like an inevitable thing. It had been comforting.
But now it was anything but.
Somehow, she found herself swinging her legs over the edge and dropping back onto the concrete, feeling oddly detached and numb about the whole process. Her legs trembled and her entire body felt cold, as if she’d actually dropped into the water.
Then she sat down, with her back against the railing, and pulled her knees to her chest.
I can’t do it. Tears pulled at her eyes for the umpteenth time that night and she swallowed thickly. I’m too afraid. I can’t do it.
Her hands reached under her sweatshirt and unzipped the pocket, retrieving her phone. Her stomach was in knots, twisted so tight that it felt like she would be sick—if she turned her phone on and claimed the battery died, then it’d be okay … right? She could lie. She’d lie. She had to lie. Lying wasn't anything new to her, anyway. She'd been lying her entire life; what was one more?
Jiyeon held the power button down and let her eyes slip shut. She felt her phone vibrate in her hand as it turned on, and after a few seconds, her lock screen appeared.
She typed in the password. A moment passed, and then suddenly her phone was blowing up. She made sure to turn off her location, Bluetooth, and wifi, just in case before checking the notifications. The application had missed calls, messages, and even a few texts, which was—baffling, honestly.
Shakily she went into the app and hovered over the phone icon. She pressed down the dial button for ‘707’ and swallowed thickly, before pulling her phone up to her ear.
It barely dialled once before it was answered. “ Hey—you! Did you try and run away!?”
“No,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry. My phone died. I had to go get a charger.”
Was that really her voice? It sounded … wrong. She felt wrong. Jiyeon … was she really Jiyeon? Who was she?
“A charger?” He asked incredulously. “I’m sure there was one at the apartment.”
Jiyeon shrugged. “I didn’t check … I was just going to go down the street to the convenience store and buy one, anyways.”
She heard him exhale sharply. “Really.” A few seconds of silence stretched out between the two of them, and Jiyeon was about to open her mouth and say something when Seven spoke. "… You’re not at Rika’s apartment anymore,” he said evenly. “You’re on the Mapo Bridge.”
Jiyeon felt a jolt of terror. How did he track her!? Her location was turned off and—
You can track people through phone calls.
Stupid; you're so stupid.
“ … I told you. I had something to do.” What was she even saying? Her voice was so … hollow. “Did you call the police on me?”
Seven took a long moment to respond. “No. V told us to trust you, so Jumin and Jaehee backed down from the idea after I reminded them of his decision.”
Jiyeon laughed a little bit, but it was—wrong. It sounded wrong, fake, and—
“I’d head back to the apartment, but … I don’t think I can.” She giggled again, tears burning her eyes. “I don’t think my legs are working.”
“Then again, do you really want me to go back?” Her voice was desperate, now. “It was an accident. I-I made a mistake. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t make me …” her voice faded away, cracking pathetically, and suddenly Jiyeon felt all the emotions she’d been missing flood her body again. Tears clogged her voice. “I—I—”
“You remember what V told you, right? The messenger is a secret, as is the apartment. It’s filled with classified documents that no one is supposed to have access to or even know about.” Seven didn’t seem affected by her sudden weakness, and Jiyeon wasn’t sure if she was thankful or upset about the fact. “You never gave us an answer on joining, but it’d be in your best interest to do so.”
Jiyeon pulled her legs closer. “Or you’ll call the police, right?”
“… Right.” He sounded unsure, though. “That ‘Unknown’ guy that talked to you and the one who sent you the email; I have to investigate it.”
“So why do I have to be there?” She asked weakly. “I’m … I-I’m not going to be of help. I can’t … do anything. I’m done.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” He seemed a bit frustrated. “This ‘Unknown’ sent you there for a reason. If he finds out you’re not there, what do you think will happen?”
Jiyeon winced. Panic settled comfortably on her chest, and she struggled to breathe through it. “I … I don’t know.”
She was pathetic. A liar, a coward—and she couldn't even bring herself to die to make up for it.
“Listen … if you can’t get back to the apartment, then I’ll call you a cab. But it’s not safe for you to go home until this is sorted out.”
She shivered, staring out at the dark sky above her. A car drove across the bridge. “Why do you care? You don’t even know me.”
“You got dragged into this by a hacker. It wouldn’t be fair to endanger you over it.” She heard a chair creaking in the background. “Zen said he saw you.”
Jiyeon nodded, only to realize a moment later that he couldn’t see her. So she mumbled, “Yeah. I … ran into him.”
“He seemed pretty freaked out when I called him; he didn't even realize it until then.”
A laugh bubbled in her throat, despite her anxiety, and she felt a small grin crawl to her face. It felt out of place and wrong but she couldn’t stop it. “Why? Didn’t you send a picture of me as soon as I disappeared?”
“Like I said; first, I had to remind Jumin and Jaehee not to call the police. Not that they could, since neither of them know the address to the apartment. But the picture didn’t seem to matter; even though I was using street cameras to watch, Zen said he barely recognized you—you were too skeletal.” Seven paused, before finishing with, “He didn't believe me when I told him, actually.”
Jiyeon drew her legs closer to her chest, resting her chin on top of them. So he knew what she looked like, too; he saw her disgusting body, the sharp angles and corners that she knew disgusted those around her. People looked at her and saw that she was broken. Saw she’d ruined herself. Would Zen be too disgusted to ever talk to her again? Would Seven? This phone call, at least, proved that he could do so in a professional manner if necessary, but who was to say that it would extend past that?
I shouldn’t care, she tried to rationalize with herself, they’re just strangers. I shouldn’t care.
But the messenger … had been nice. It’d been nice to know other people were around, talking, and living their own lives. It gave her an escape from the hell she’d created.
“I guess you want an answer, huh?” She asked dully. “I don’t even have a choice in the matter. Not that I’m even competent enough to do it in the first place.”
“V thinks you can.” Seven hadn’t joked at all during this call; she supposed this was a serious enough conversation that there was no need to. She wasn't a stranger to professionalism. “He believes Rika chose you.”
“I know, but … that makes no sense.” She craned her head back to look up at the railings, wanting nothing more than to climb back up and haul herself over the edge. “I was sent by a hacker, right? What would a hacker have to do with Rika?”
“… I don’t know all the details. But it’s not like you have anything else to do, right?” Jiyeon blinked. “I know you’re lying about the flight.”
Jiyeon sighed. “I … yes,” she finally relented. “You’re right. I don’t have a plane to catch.”
“So there’s no reason to say no. It’s just dealing with emails and chatting with us, anyways.”
“University starts again in March,” she mumbled. “I can’t waste time with a party when I’m in school.”
She wasn’t even supposed to make it to March in the first place.
“I’m sure it won’t take that long,” Seven said, “but if it does, then we’ll work it out.”
Jiyeon said nothing. Her guilt was rapidly returning, burning at her throat and making her jittery. “You’re a hacker?”
“Huh? Yeah.” He seemed caught off guard by her sudden question.
“You said you hacked the street cameras to watch me,” she said quietly. “And to get Zen to follow me. A normal person can't do that.”
Seven laughed. “Well, you're right about that. But like I said, Zen gave up on looking in the end.”
Jiyeon rubbed her eye with the heel of her hand. She was exhausted. “Good.”
Another silence. Then, “So. Will you head back to Rika’s apartment?”
“… I guess,” Jiyeon said, after a few seconds. “It’s closer than my own apartment, anyways.”
Seven laughed again, and she jumped in surprise. “Yeah, your apartment is pretty damn far from that bridge. Were you really willing to come this far?”
He didn’t specify what for, but he didn’t need to. Most likely, he knew exactly why she’d come here. All her shitty excuses fell flat when he tracked her down and found her on what people called the ‘suicide bridge’, especially considering what she'd said in the messenger before turning off her phone. Not to mention, if he’d been hacking the street cameras to watch her, he'd have seen that she never made it across the bridge.
He’d probably found her accounts.
She should have felt anxious about the entire situation, scared, violated; she should have felt something. Yet, she couldn't find it in her, too tired to muster up much of anything.
“I thought I was.” Jiyeon sighed, shivering from the cold. “I was wrong.”
Seven was silent for a long while before he finally sighed as well. “Ahh … what a mess. I’ll call you a taxi, so just stay where you are. I’ll let everyone else know.”
Terror gripped her. “Don’t tell them.”
“What?”
“Where I am. Please … don’t tell them.” Shame curled in her gut. She was pathetic. She couldn’t even kill herself, after all the planning she’d done. All the time she’d poured into this—in an instant, it'd been reduced to nothing. If these strangers were to find out that she'd planned to kill herself, she was sure there would be no place for her.
It’s not too late.
But it was.
“Hah, don’t worry. I’m just going to tell them your phone died and you agreed to do it.”
Jiyeon let her eyes slip shut. “Th—… Thank you.”
The call wrapped up shortly after that and Jiyeon let her phone fall away from her ear, staring at it wordlessly.
What had she done?