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fcble · 3 months ago

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In which Haksu loses. FEATURING: Kang Haksu, Lee Taein, Yoon Mingeun, Andrew Han WORD COUNT: 3.7k SETTING: November 2024 NOTES: The conclusion of Haksu’s latest trial/tribulation. My knowledge of trials and law in general comes from 1. Ace Attorney 2. Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer and 3. half an episode of Matlock (2024) so there are likely inaccuracies but I’m going to pretend they don’t exist because I don’t know what they are.

"I'm really scared, Oppa." Eunmyeong sniffles into her coffee that you paid for.

You slouch in the seat across from her, hands tucked into the pocket of the garishly neon green hoodie you borrowed from Mingeun, who in turn received it as a gag gift from Eunsu. You, Kang Haksu of idol group Fable, would never be spotted out in public in such an ugly and unflattering color, and that's what gives you confidence in the disguise. You have nowhere private to meet her, because it turns out Eunmyeong really did move to Gunsan. It makes your stomach roll every time you spend longer than thirty seconds thinking about it. So you do your best not to think about it.

"I know," you say sullenly.

You had been the first to tell Eunmyeong of her impending court case. It surprised you. Was there no policy to let someone know when they were going to find themself as a defendant? And if Taein is pressing criminal charges, shouldn't someone arrest her?

There's nothing you can do about it now.

"I'm not sure why Taein-nim is doing this," you say. You could reassure her that you had no part in this, which would be true, but ultimately meaningless.

"I didn't do anything," Eunmyeong says. She's beginning to sound dangerously close to tears. The ice in her iced coffee continues to melt.

That's not true, but you say, "I know," just to support her. You make a conscious effort to keep yourself from biting your bottom lip. You know no one approves of your relationship with her. No one, except your parents, that is, who continue to ask you how things are going with the new young woman from church. Eunmyeong splits her time between Seoul and Gunsan, another fact that you try very hard not to think about. When you see her in Seoul, it's not nearly as bad. You can slip into almost the same relationship as idol and dedicated fan.

"I'm so happy you support me, Oppa," she says. She might have been saying something else alongside it, but you weren't paying attention.

Your response is automatic, ingrained into you as a side effect of your occupation. "You've always supported me. I want to do the same for you, however I can."

Your words are hollow, but Eunmyeong doesn't seem to mind, immediately brightening at your words. You almost expect her to ask you to be her boyfriend again. She's asked it a few times before, but each time, you've skirted around a real answer, until she dropped the question.

At those times, you returned to Fable's dorm after, suddenly fearful of the consequences of angering her. You'd spend a sleepless night or two wondering if your career will be over in the morning with the breaking news of your supposed relationship. Then you text her back and arrange another meeting.

You try not to text her too much. You're aware of the paper trail it leaves. But when you take too long to respond, she gets worried, and so you reluctantly type message after message, digging your own grave deeper and deeper.

"Thank you so much, Oppa," she's saying the next time you start listening to her again.

She's posing one of your photocards next to her drink. You do your best to lean out of the frame of the picture you know is coming. You also try to tug your hood further over your eyes, just in case any of the other patrons make the connection between the man in the pictures in front of Eunmyeong and the person sitting directly across from her.

"If you support me, everything will turn out for the best," she continues optimistically, staring at her phone. Or rather, staring at your image through her phone.

You haven't made your mind up yet about how she seems to prefer the image of you over the real you. On one hand, the you on camera isn't exactly real. It's a snapshot of you at a certain point in time, portraying yourself in a certain way. On the other hand, what does the you on camera have to offer that the real you doesn't? She likes the real you enough to have introduced herself to your parents. But the more you speak to her, the more she seems interested in the picture-perfect, camera image of you.

Every passing minute in such a public place sets you further on edge. Eunmyeong either doesn't notice or doesn't care. Her nails tap against her phone screen, probably as she posts her pictures to Twitter. You sink further into your seat, and pull out your phone to check her account. Just as you expected, there’s a picture of you in front of her drink. You zoom in and take a closer look over the background. The photo is mostly of her drink and your photocard and the table, and it gives the illusion that she’s alone.

She shows no signs of wanting to leave any time soon, so you resign yourself to a tense and restless indeterminable amount of time trying to hide in the almost nonexistent shadows of the brightly lit cafe.

You don't go to the trial. Taein doesn't either, which comes as a surprise to you. It's his entertainment company and his name associated with the prosecution. You come to the conclusion that he must trust the prosecutor a lot.

He's a man named Cho Hangil. You pried his name out of Taein a few days ago, searching for any other information on the case. You like doing research. You like knowing things. It makes you feel a little more like you're in control of the situation, despite the fact that you haven't ever been in control of this situation.

This is all to say that you learned this is the first case Cho Hangil has prosecuted in fifteen years. Granted, he won his last case, and the case before that, but he's since transitioned into the supposedly less stressful entertainment law.

You brought this fact up to Taein, who looked at you weirdly and immediately dismissed your concerns. The case was nearly airtight, he assured you. You're not sure if that's the outcome you want. What you want is for everything to go back to the way it was before. Back when Eunmyeong didn't really know you, and when she didn't know your parents. Back when she was just an overly familiar face.

You're thinking about all of this when Mingeun pops his head into your room—without even knocking—and asks if you want to join him in dragging Andrew out of his studio to see the sun for once in his life.

"I didn't know you were allowed outside," you tell him.

He gives you one of his customary scowls. "I'm not a house pet."

He doesn't retract his invitation, so you agree to accompany him.

You discover Andrew is entirely unwilling, just as you expect. He doesn't hiss like he's afraid of the light when you all finally step outside, which you find rather disappointing. He does refuse to go further than the convenience store a couple blocks away.

The ten-minute walk is somehow enough time for Andrew and Mingeun to devolve into a senseless argument about someone from The Midas Touch.

“He's going to replace you if you keep mentoring him,” Mingeun insists.

“You're paranoid,” Andrew argues back. “He’s the main producer of his group. It's part of my job to help him.”

You don't know who they're arguing about, and at this point, you're not going to ask.

By the time you reach the rooftop, the two of them have settled into their usual stony silence. You thought they got along well. It seems for every step forward, they take two back.

So you change the subject. “My sasaeng’s trial is today,” you say with a shiver that has nothing to do with Eunmyeong and everything to do with the cold November wind whipping across the top of the building.

“Good,” Mingeun says, with a viciousness that surprises you. Through a mouthful of his sandwich he adds, “Fuck her.”

“Is this the girl you’re dating?” Andrew asks. You wish he was less observant. You haven’t told the rest of Fable everything about Eunmyeong, just enough for them to know that if anyone ever says they were dating you it’s not true and much more complex than that.

“We’re not dating. She regularly threatens to ruin my life.”

“That sounds familiar,” Mingeun says. “I know someone who did something similar to be an idol.”

Andrew nods in agreement, pushing back his hair with the back end of his chopsticks. He's using them to eat precisely one potato chip at a time.

You hate that they only agree with one another when they gang up on you. As much as it pains you, you don’t have a good rebuttal, because Mingeun is right. You glare at him over sips of your soda. You’re the only one not eating, because your stomach churns with thoughts of Eunmyeong’s trial, and there’s no way you can keep food down at the same time. The convenience store cola is tasteless and nearly flat.

You join them in their separate silences for a few minutes, scuffing your shoes against the concrete.

“I have to get back to work,” Andrew says eventually.

"What are you working on?" you ask, despite already knowing the answer. Andrew won't tell you until he's done. He won't tell anyone, except maybe Jaeseop. The only issue with that is that Jaeseop isn’t here right now. And Intak is in charge of Fable’s next album. You’re not sure what that leaves for Andrew.

“Something different.”

You wait for more of an explanation, but it appears he has nothing more to say. He stands, crumpling his chip bag in one hand. You watch Mingeun’s gaze follow him, but he doesn’t protest. If anything, you think, Mingeun agrees with him. They’re more alike than either of them would admit.

“I should go too,” you say, if only to say something. You don’t have anywhere to go besides back to your phone screen, restlessly waiting for any new information on the trial.

Mingeun stops you. “Was this your idea? You don’t seem enthusiastic about it.”

You think about lying to him, but he’s always been better at lying than you, and he’d probably call you out on it. In the background, the hinges of the rooftop door make a terrible squealing sound as Andrew forces it open.

“No,” you answer truthfully. You could tell him more: the very thought of it makes you sick, but the thought of Eunmyeong at large, befriending your parents, also makes you sick. “Taein-nim doesn’t tell me anything. She likes me. She’s never hurt me.”

From the questioning look Mingeun gives you, it seems like he doubts you. “She doesn't have to physically hurt you. What about your mental health? You looked like an asshole in that TMT video with Kiyoung-hyung, by the way.”

That's not real, and you didn't see any comments about your asshole behavior in that TMT video. You dismiss his concerns. He’s looking out for you, but you can look out for yourself. “It's fine.”

"If you say so," he says in the dispassionate tone of voice that you've now come to associate with arguments he knows he's lost, or conversations he doesn't want to have anymore. This is likely the latter. You weren't really arguing.

He pushes the last, oversized bite of his sandwich into his mouth and chews furiously. He stands before he even swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are you gonna go back or…?”

“I’ll stay.” You’re freezing, and you have to constantly switch which hand is holding your drink so you can tuck the other one into your pocket, but you want to see Taein and you don’t want Mingeun to tag along. He seems bored, likely as a result of being cooped up in the apartment all the time.

He shrugs. “Let me know when you win.”

It’ll be Taein’s win, not yours, but you agree.

The trial lasts two days. Taein texts you at the end of the second day, terse and succinct, She won. This is clearly disappointing to Taein, but you haven’t decided how you feel about it. You assume everything will return to normal, or at least the new normal your relationship with Eunmyeong has solidified into. While you remain lost in your thoughts, scrolling through social media and pretending the rest of the world outside your bed doesn’t exist, Taein calls you. You decline. You already know the outcome of the case. What else does he have to tell you?

He calls again. You ignore him again. Eunmyeong texts, gushing about the good news. You grit your teeth, roll over in bed, and pretend to be happier than you actually are. It’s not hard.

Someone knocks on your bedroom door. You ignore that too. Then Daewoong’s voice comes through the flimsy wood. “I know you’re in there, Haksu. Answer your damn phone.”

You’re planning on ignoring him too, when Taein calls you for the third time, mere seconds later. You scramble for your earbuds so you can hold two conversations at once. Eunmyeong’s incoming messages are all insipid and vapid as they usually are, but you read them anyway. She wants to see you again, like she always does.

You finally answer Taein’s call. “Hello, Haksu,” he says almost immediately.

You don’t respond, because you don’t have much to say to him. He talks enough for two people, anyway. You sit back and let him talk, idly composing a response to Eunmyeong.

“I haven’t been completely transparent with you about the details of the case. Now that a verdict has been reached, I want you to know the full story.” His words are calm and measured, without a hint of emotion. He continues on.

“As you know, Hangil-ssi and I began the investigation in the spring of this year. It was brought to our attention by the Gunsan police, who in turn were investigating based on the diagnosis of the staff at the hospital where your father was being treated for his fall. They were the first to suspect foul play.” He pauses, as if waiting for you to digest his words.

You finally find your voice and take advantage of the silence to say, “You don’t think my father fell.” Your text to Eunmyeong remains unsent, the cursor blinking in the middle of your sentence.

“No. We think he was pushed."

The pieces begin to click into place. "And you think Eunmyeong did it."

"Is that what you call her?" Taein sounds almost amused. “To be honest, Haksu, I expected you to figure it out sooner.”

Now that he's telling you everything, it becomes a bit more obvious. When your father was first hospitalized, you dropped everything to go home. It was during that visit, when you and your mother were both unsure of whether or not he would make a full recovery, that you met Eunmyeong in person for the first time. But your parents knew her when you went home for Seollal, which means she planned it months in advance. You think you might throw up.

Taein’s voice distracts you. “It is unfortunate the judge didn’t see the case in the same light. He seemed to think of it as an isolated incident. The evidence was circumstantial, he said. It wasn't enough that she was caught on camera.”

Your throat is dry. Your voice comes out as a rasp when you confirm what he's telling you. “There's evidence of her committing a crime and she still got away?”

Taein speaks coldly. “It is likely her. The footage quality is rather poor. It is a young woman of roughly her stature.”

The last time you've seen him this upset was when you confronted him about his less than legal hobbies seven years ago. You're not sure why this case is so important to him. It should be more important to you. It's your father who was assaulted.

“How involved are my parents?” you ask. Surely they would have told you, their only son, if they were part of a criminal case with your boss.

“They aren't. They didn't want to press charges. The extent of their involvement was cooperating with Hangil’s investigation. I presume they believe in her innocence. It is possible it was an accident.”

They knew, and they still asked after your relationship with Eunmyeong. They still saw her as a potential future spouse for you, because there was no possible way the nice young woman from church could be the same young woman with the malicious intent to push your father down a flight of stairs and seriously injure him. They don't know her like you do.

“You should have told me this sooner.”

“I agree,” Taein says, sounding slightly more sincere than he usually does. “I had hoped for a better outcome. Hangil was opposed to involving you. He thought it might make it too personal.”

It was already personal. It was personal from the moment you met Eunmyeong, from the moment she decided to move to your hometown.

“What's next?” you ask, even as you delete your previous message to Eunmyeong and start a different one. “A hit man?”

“Don't count on it, Haksu-ah. Take some time off. I'll tell Daewoong to cancel your schedules.”

You don't have many schedules at the moment. You also don't understand why he's being so nice, but you'll take it. Your new message to Eunmyeong is simple. I want to see you tomorrow.

She responds with an affirmative and a location almost immediately, and for once, you can't wait to see her.

"Oppa! I was acquitted!" Eunmyeong waves furiously at you from across the alleyway behind Fable's apartment building. She's not supposed to be here. She's supposed to be at the park the two of you agreed to meet at.

You cross the small street anyway, already annoyed at the sight of her. She steps forward with her arms outstretched, clearly trying to hug you. You stop in your tracks. "Did you do it?"

Your hands are balled into fists, hidden in the pocket of Mingeun's ugly hoodie again.

Her face falls. "I'm innocent. The judge said so."

"I don't fucking care what the judge said," you snarl. "Did you do it?"

You can't bring yourself to put together the words for what she did or didn't do. Taein was so clinical about it when he told you about the trial's proceedings. You've never been angry at another person like this in your entire life. To your surprise, it feels good to bask in the fire of your rage, to let it consume you until you're at risk of burning to a crisp.

Eunmyeong is quiet, barely louder than a whisper, when she finally answers, "Yes."

It doesn't exactly surprise you. She wasn't supposed to win the case. Taein said it was airtight. She was caught on camera.

You exhale shakily. She could have killed your father. "Bitch."

Eunmyeong reaches for you again.

"Don't fucking touch me," you snap at her, and she pulls away sharply.

"Oppa, I didn't mean it. I only wanted to know you better."

You stare at her, incredulous at her logic, anger still burning in the pit of your stomach. "Did it work? Do you think you know me?"

"You're scaring me, Oppa," she sniffles.

You've seen her crocodile tears before. They do nothing to move you. She might be scared of you, but you certainly aren't scared of her. You can't believe you used to give in to her demands.

"I don't care. Why should that matter to me? You're weird and pathetic and you're dedicating your life to following me around."

You're acutely aware that you're in an almost public area, and you're standing in the middle of what passes for a road, sometimes. You have to get her to leave.

She's shaking and sniffling—real tears, perhaps—but you can't be sure. "This isn't—"

You cut her off. "I told you, I don't care. Give me your phone."

"My phone? Why?"

"Give me your phone, Eunha," you repeat, grinding out your words.

She slips her hand into her pocket and hands you her phone. "You said my name."

You've probably said her name before, at fansigns and the like. You don't see what makes this different. You pop her phone case off, and one of your photocards, encased in a plastic sleeve, flutters to the ground.

She bends down immediately to pick it up. "Oppa, what are you doing?"

You don't answer her. You tuck her phone into your hoodie pocket, and then rifle through your wallet for the paper clip you keep for this exact purpose. With practiced ease, the SIM card tray slides open, and you flick the piece of plastic to the ground. You step on it, crushing the flimsy plastic between your heel and the asphalt.

Her phone quickly follows. It doesn't snap in half the way it does in the movies, so you begin to talk. "I don't want to see you ever again. Not at Fable's schedules, not around my apartment, and not in my hometown."

You shift your weight around on her phone, doing your best to render it irreparable. You try to catch her gaze, to see if she's listening to you, but she's glued to the sight of her phone being reduced to a useless rectangle of metal and plastic.

"I don't understand," she says. "I thought you liked me."

You've always known she's delusional. It's some new, unforeseen level of delusion for her to think that you would like her. There's nothing there for you to like. She likes you, or the idea of you, at least, and that's all there is to it.

You let up on her phone. The formerly white backing is cracked and scuffed with streaks of dirt. You nudge it, carefully, and it leaves behind shards of glass and plastic.

Satisfied, you take a step back, another pace closer to the safety of your home. "Leave. If you try to do something like that ever again, the law won't protect you from me.“

You watch her gather the pieces of her phone, hands shaking all the while. The outcome of the case doesn’t bother you. You didn't need it at all. You’ve always been perfectly capable of solving your own problems.

#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ haksu. ]#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ writing. ]#fictional idol community #kpop oc #idol oc #kpop addition #fake kpop group

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