Remember Me

Chapter 17

With the excuse of dinner, I took Jimin's food and went to his door, spending five minutes outside it thinking whether I should knock or not. Mustering the courage to confront him, I finally knocked.
After a few seconds, I heard a little, "come in."

Cracking the door open, I saw Jimin sitting on his bed with a book. I cleared my throat, and he looked up. I tried to smile awkwardly, and placed the dinner plate on the table next to his bed. He didn't look up again, so I stood there awkwardly for a while. It felt like something important, something precious was slipping out of my hands again. I knew I wanted to say something. I had to.
"Are you upset about the mock press conference we did?" I asked barely above a whisper.
He closed his book, seemingly waiting for me to bring it up. "Privileged heir? Is that how you see me?"
"No! Why would I? I was just trying to emulate what the reporters would ask..."
"You think I used my money to get out of this? What's the privilege in being the heir to Park Corp. anyway?"
I folded my hands together. "Jimin, that's not..."
"Everything my dad does is for the company. I don't think he even cares about me."
"Jimin! I was not trying to attack you. But the journalists will. They always want to paint people as the bad guy. It's not like Eko isn't an heir either. It's an absurd question, but the media press is always trying to twist things."
"And how would you know that?" Jimin asked, still upset.
"Because they did it to me." I said, exasperated.

Jimin looked at me in confusion, his anger waning, but my frustration growing. "Make sure you answer by bringing up what kind of a person Eko is too. You need to make it out so the victim is you." I took a couple of shallow breaths and excused myself to go to the bathroom.
Yes, maybe it was hypocritical to judge Jimin when I was like this. I knew how people looked at me, I knew what people whispered. I calmed down and went out to eat my own dinner. To my surprise, Jimin wheeled himself into the room with his food on his lap.
He came to the dining room and I set his food on the table as he sat by me.

I could see he had questions, but he knew I wasn't ready to talk about it all yet. Well, once he met his friends, maybe he would find out about my own scandal four years ago soon enough.

The food was tasteless in that moment, but there was a quiet consolation as the two of us sat by each other. I hoped all was forgiven, and when he turned to smile at me briefly, even in the silence, I knew it was.

Before we went to bed, I encouraged him.
"I'm sure tomorrow will go great, regardless of how you do. Don't be nervous. I'll be there to support you."
Jimin stared at him me for a while before nodding a thanks, and I turned the lights off.

_______________________
Jimin

If angels existed, they would be in the form of Zara Sando. It hurt me to see how much more reserved she'd become in five years. She was pretty—much prettier than she was five years ago—it had blown me away when I first saw her after waking up. But there was something sad, something hurt, something resigned in it. She'd only grown more serious over the years. After spending a few days with her, I could already tell that work was her life. She hadn't talked to, invited, or even mentioned any friends either.

It made me sad to see. And then there was the weird tension. I could tell something bothered her. And I knew we'd probably fought before the accident. I felt it. And I'd seen a shiny ring in my wallet after waking up. It didn't fit me quite right, even though it felt familiar.
I wondered if it was Zara's. If so, I wondered why I had it. Yet despite it all, Zara didn't hesitate before agreeing to help me. Yes, Zara was like an angel.

Thinking about her made my heart full with emotion. Did I love her? I suppose I did. I confess that I knew nothing but loving Zara for a bit now. I didn't know what had changed, but something deep in me just wanted to win her back. To see her smile.

Why was our life so complicated? With such feelings in my mind, I drifted to sleep, hoping the next day would go as planned.

I felt like I'd just closed my eyes when my alarm rang. Oh wait, it was Zara's alarm. A full two hours before mine. I groaned and went back to sleep, thinking about the speech I'd had to memorize.

Once I was ready to go to the event, I peeked out of the room to see Zara in a plain sleek black dress that hugged her figure and her hair tied up. I didn't know when she'd started wearing glasses, but boy did she look sexy in them.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts and stepped out with my crutches in the button down shirt and dress pants I was asked to wear. I noticed Zara's eyes linger on my chest and felt a little boost of confidence, honestly. I'd gotten in better shape as an adult, and it definitely showed.

Well, regardless, it's not like either of us had made much progress in the last five years. If anything, Zara seemed more jumpy around me than she was before. I hardly believed we'd actually gotten engaged. Ah, forget it. I'd have to get to the bottom of it eventually.

Drey picked us up in his car, and drove us downtown. He was a nice and reliable person, I could tell right away. Apparently the press conference was in a hotel ballroom. We'd arrived well ahead of time, and the only people present were people I was told were on the PR team of Bulletproof Labels. They were instructed not to talk to me, and some threw sad sidelong glances at me. It pricked me with guilt again, because I could not remember them. It felt like five years were stolen from me, and I wasn't sure if things could ever get normal again.

On the way, Drey had explained more about what the company was like, what the producers and artists were like. We'd grown so quickly so soon, and it was owed to the talent pool. I was told I was great friends with the artists and musicians, and even better friends with a few. But I couldn't recall names or faces.

I wondered if they were among the people who'd come to my hospital room to visit me. I had less faith in the two that had intruded Zara's apartment.

Before they let the media members in, Zara walked up to me and took my hand.
"Jimin, I want you to know that I have never seen you as serious and passionate about anything as I have seen you be with your company. I... didn't always support you starting from the ground up, but it was immediately evident that you loved what you did. You've always been a natural performer and musician, and I have no faith you'll be back on your feet in no time."

She let go and walked off the stage to the back corner of the room. Touched, I stared at the hand she had held, and at the mic in front of me. As the press members were let in and seated, I thought about music. Music and dance had always been my hobbies. I knew I could never seriously pursue performing as the heir to a large company, despite how I'd developed my hobbies in my youth. I was excited to go to college and join dance and music groups. My dream, my real dream was to perform for people. The feeling of my two feet on a stage was the most exhilarating one I knew.

I stared at the media as they walked in, and suddenly Zara's words made sense. This was my dream, right in front of me. I'd started my own label, which was probably evident given the drive and resources I'd gotten from my father. But I'd done it!
And... I had messed up.

I couldn't afford to lose it. Perhaps it wasn't exactly me right now, but someone did jump over many hurdles for this to happen. I owed it to that person to keep his career. I owed it to myself.