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Miss Thompson,

Please be advised that we are going to send a car for you. You will be met in the basement and escorted through the building.

We look forward to seeing you.

I’d read the message half-a-dozen times this morning, but I hadn’t understood why ENT would bother, when the hotel they’d booked for me was an easy fifteen-minute walk.

Now I understood.

The car crawled through traffic towards the shiny, glass-fronted building. It was as it ever had been. An imposing, modern edifice so at ease amongst all the other buildings in this part of the city. ‘ENT’ was proudly mounted across the top, clearly visible across all of Gangnam.

And outside, crowded on the wide pavement in front of the building were dozens of funeral wreaths. White chrysanthemum arrangements tied with black ribbon, many of them emblazoned with things that made bile burn in the back of my throat.

Baek Jihoon leave GVibes!

You betrayed your fans!

Are your songs all lies, too?

It felt like a sick joke to be stuck in traffic, halted directly beside the rows of orderly displays of outrage, because I was the reason they were there. Or, at least, half of the reason. My fingers gripped my little swallow necklace tightly, feeling the prick of its wing biting into my thumb as my jaw clenched. Hwayeon had just died. I’d seen these same arrangements at her funeral, and now only weeks later, her grandson had wreaths of his own. It was sick. Appropriating funeral imagery to ‘mourn the death of Jihoon’s single life’ was fucking grim.

I forced myself to look away, and eventually we broke away from the queues of cars and turned down the slope leading to the basement car park.

Every time I’d come here, my life had switched courses, and even without stepping inside, I already knew that would be true again today. I was dropped next to the door leading to a lift where a young woman waited. I barely needed to glance at her to know she had my old job. Perhaps not ‘mine’, exactly, but in the same team. She looked at me curiously but didn’t speak as she escorted me up to reception.

I knew the drill by now. Sign in at the main desk. Get my visitor’s pass, be escorted through security, head upstairs. All the times I’d done this in the past had been with a measure of anonymity. Even when I’d worked here, I’d gone unobserved for the most part. But now, as soon as I provided my name to the receptionist, her head shot up, her eyes running over my face, and I knew what dots she was connecting. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t allow my face to move from my polite expression, but also didn’t try to pretend that I hadn’t noticed.

A few minutes later, I was sat outside one of the conference rooms on the top floor, and I huffed a quiet laugh, shaking my head. Another sodding conference room.

I couldn’t help seeing the patterns in the pivotal moments in my life. Things had a cyclical feeling to them, like seasonal changes, and oddly enough, I found the thought comforting as I waited for the next pivotal event.

At ten am precisely, Director Kang herself opened the door to the conference room. Her eyes moved across the small waiting area before they fell on me with an inscrutable expression. I stood and crossed the few steps to her, breathing out, and managing a polite smile, which she didn’t return, but nor did she look hostile, which was something.

“Miss Thompson.” She inclined her head. “If you would.” She held the door open and I moved past her into the room. It was as I remembered it. Imposing, but unremarkable. Essentially a big table in a big room with a bunch of chairs. Nothing scary about it.

Except for the handful of serious-looking people in business suits sitting around the table, watching me walking towards them with varying expressions ranging from disinterest to disapproval.

The door closed, and Director Kang stepped up beside me.

“Take a seat, Kaiya.” She indicated a chair facing the firing squad of executives, before moving round to join them, taking her seat and clasping her hands together. I sat opposite and forced my body into calm compliance.

“Thank you for coming back to Seoul to meet with us,” she said in a tone that implied I’d had a choice. “I won’t do anyone here the discredit of wasting their time. We have become aware of the nature of your relationship with a member of GVibes,” she said bluntly.

It wasn’t a question, so I said nothing, spinning my ring around my finger underneath the table.

“For how long have you been together?” she asked coldly.

“Is that relevant?” I tilted my chin up. Not quite defiance, but perhaps something related. Not because I was ashamed – precisely because I had decided I would not be made to feel so.

Director Kang’s eyes narrowed.

“I am curious for how long you’ve been breaching the terms of your contract.”

“I don’t believe the duration is relevant. I am happy to answer your questions,” I said evenly, “but in so far as it relates to the terms of my employment.”

Director Kang’s mouth twitched like it was fighting the urge to turn into a scowl or a smile.

“Alright,” she said eventually, glancing down at the papers in front of her. “You can probably guess what the outcome of this is, Miss Thompson.”