Paradigm

Chapter VII

Seoul, South Korea, February 1998.

Most importantly, never draw attention to him, such was the capital rule for tonight. Worn out jeans and the t-shirt of a famous band, the most ordinary outfit for the most ordinary man. The only hint that he would not go back to the hotel tonight was that small backpack he had filled with his essentials for the flight. He had asked the staff from the hotel where he stayed to send him his luggage back to Paris by Post.

Seonghwa pushed the door of the building bathed in festive waves and cheerful babbling. It must have been a very pleasant place to be, if however he ignored the presence of dangerous people who were spying on a talented writer for the purpose of killing him. Therefore, he made himself as small as possible and pretended he did not notice Jongho swaying through the crowd.

The editor simply bought his ticket before sitting in the bleachers, waiting for the show to start. On the contrary to what he initially feared, there were a lot of adults - more than children - attending this magician show.

The lights were switched off and the projectors put a man in the spotlight who started talking on stage, interacting skillfully with the public. He was pretty funny and Seonghwa kind of regretted that he could not remain fully focused on the show for too long. An hour passed, and he still hadn't spotted Paul in the crowd. When the famous magic trick of the disappearing man came up as planned out, the author was chosen "randomly" among the spectators. The pressure went up, so much that the editor almost forgot to breathe.

Already in his early youth, he could not get rid of that guilty expression he had when he played board games, so now that he played the role of a makeshift secret agent, his bad habits returned in force to stretch the muscles of his face.

No shifty eyes, no shifty eyes...

Do not let your nervosity show, do not let your nervosity show...

Do not look hysteric, do not look hysteric...

Do not mop your forehead all the time, do not mop your forehead all the time...

As those illogical thoughts clashed in his mind, he was counting the minutes to the exact seconds in order to go to the toilets at the right moment.

A furtive thought about Yeosang who disapproved of this impromptu - and dangerous - trip to Seoul crossed his mind.

Three, two, one...

Electrified by stress, he stood up calmly and left the room after clumsily apologizing to all the people he disturbed. A pee break was needed !

A sign indicated the direction to the women's toilets with a few arrows. As in almost all the public places, they were incredibly dirty. Waste bins overflowed with used sanitary pads, puddles of a suspicious nature here and there, water leaking from the taps...

-Where are you ? he whispered, hoping that Paul would hear.

-Here.

His slender hand peeked out from above the door. Without wasting a second, Seonghwa rushed into this secluded place. Squeezing three people in the same toilet stall was everything but pleasant yet the editor could not help but burst out laughing several times : Paul was so well disguised that he would not have recognized him even if he had gone past him ten times. He perfectly looked like a typical ahjussi. A bad joke crossed his mind but when he wanted to say it, the author put a finger on his lips to shush him.

Jongho was jimmying the window cursing some profanities that were far from family-friendly. The closures gave way with a metallic noise.

Fear suddenly clamped the editor's stomach : what if he was too clumsy to go through it ? It was very high and narrow, and he wasn't very comfortable with the height. The distance from the toilet to the window wasn't the worst, but that from the window to the ground was a whole different thing to handle. A drop of cold sweat rolled along his temple ; that would be so awkward if he just ridiculed himself in front of Paul and Jongho... He would never be able to look them in the eyes if something went wrong because of him.