Suspended Notes
838 Words
The city outside Min-Hee’s window was a blur of gray and silver. Rain made the roads slick, and Seoul’s skyline looked like a broken mirror in the reflections. Her hands were shaking on the wheel, even though she was gripping it so hard they ached. The GPS kept telling her to turn right in five hundred meters, but it felt like the words were coming from someone else’s life.
Her phone buzzed again in the cup holder.
She jumped.
Her heart hadn’t slowed down since the hospital called. Car crash. ICU. Bad shape. The words kept going through her head like a broken record. Manager Kim, who was always there for her, was struggling to live, and she was on her way to an interview that was supposed to save her career.
It felt wrong.
Min-Hee grabbed her phone and dialed the magazine.
It rang once.
Twice.
“Chronicle Mag, Hae-In speaking.”
“This is Kang Min-Hee,” she said, her voice cracking. She swallowed and tried again. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t make it. Something came up. There was a crash. My manager…”
She stopped, unable to say the words.
The secretary hesitated, her voice changed. “Ms. Kang, I’m sorry to hear that. Are you canceling today’s interview?”
“Yes,” Min-Hee whispered, tears making it hard to see the road. “Please. I can’t do this right now.”
“I understand,” the secretary said. “Hold on while I tell the host.”
Min-Hee moved to the side of the road, turning on her hazard lights as her chest tightened. She leaned her head against the steering wheel, breathing fast, the notebook in her bag felt heavy like it was watching her.
I can’t do this, she thought. Not today.
The call was still going when another voice broke in—sharp, familiar, and not nice at all.
“Give me the phone.”
Min-Hee froze.
“Seo-Yoon?” she asked.
“What are you doing, Min-Hee?” Han Seo-Yoon’s voice snapped through the speaker. “Why is my secretary telling me you’re canceling five minutes before we go live?”
“Seo-Yoon, I can’t—Kim is in the ICU.”
“I know,” Seo-Yoon broke in, her voice turning serious. “Listen carefully.”
There was some noise on the other end, other voices, the sound of studio stuff.
“I just talked to Manager Kim’s son,” Seo-Yoon said. “They got him stable. He’s not in danger anymore. He’s still not awake, but he’s alive. The surgery worked.”
Min-Hee caught her breath.
“Alive?” she whispered.
“Yes,” Seo-Yoon said. “Alive. And he would want you to do well, not fall apart on the side of the road.”
Min-Hee felt a bit better. She started driving again, her hands still shaking but not as badly.
“Seo-Yoon, I was so scared,” she said, her voice breaking.
“I know,” Seo-Yoon said, then got tough again. “Listen, this interview is important. Not just for your career, but for you. Kim has been fighting for you all these years, he would not want you to quit when things get hard.”
Min-Hee swallowed, nodding.
“I’m scared I’ll mess up on camera,” Min-Hee said. “I don’t trust myself.”
“Then mess up,” Seo-Yoon said. “Be real. People don’t like fake idols, they like the truth. Come to the studio. We’ll handle the rest.”
There was a pause.
“…Okay,” Min-Hee said. “I’m coming.”
“Good,” Seo-Yoon said. “Drive safe. I’ll be here.”
The call ended.
Min-Hee laughed a bit, then started crying. She felt tired and relieved. She blinked, watching the road.
“That was close,” she said to herself.
The notebook in her bag felt warm.
You’re doing well, she felt like she heard—not in words, but somehow.
Min-Hee breathed out. “I know,” she whispered, not sure if she was talking to herself or to him.
She didn’t see the truck.
It came out of nowhere, a huge thing of metal and lights going too fast through a red light.
The crash was loud.
Metal broke.
Glass flew everywhere.
The world turned over.
Min-Hee felt like she weighed nothing.
Her car was lifted off the road. The windshield broke, the pieces like stars. Her body was thrown to the side, the seatbelt hurt her shoulder as the car spun.
Sound went away.
Everything slowed down.
Rain stopped in the air.
The city was still.
Min-Hee couldn’t scream as time seemed to stop.
The car hung in the air, broken and twisted, turning slowly.
And then—
He was there.
Lee Do-Hyun stood on the road below her, his feet on the still ground. His black shirt moved in a wind that wasn’t there. The watch on his wrist ticked once… and stopped.
His eyes were wide, scared, watching her.
- Writer
