Early that morning
11 October 2020

It's always the same dream.

Always.

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Panic.

That's all I consciously feel as I run down the deserted street.

'Something is following me.'

I sense it before I see it.

There is an old black Bentley creeping up on me. Gaining on me as I tire out.

It was kilometer away...

But now it's closer. I know this, because I chanced a glance over my shoulder.

Heaving for breath, my lungs burning in my chest, I spied a slim chance at survival.

I turned a corner at the old school. Panting heavily, the bouquet of white roses I had been holding slipped out of my left hand as I hiked the layered skirts of my white dress up. I broke into a run once more, down the empty road, past an ice cream stall.

Panic strikes through my heart, the corners of my vision blackening.

"This is it." I think to myself as I run down the road feeling sharp, stabbing pains in my feet with every step I take. "I can't anymore."

"Oh, but you can Haneul... You're a fighter!" Says another voice.

I can't find the source of the voice. But it was a deep, gravelly voice.

My father. I thought of him.
He'd want for me to survive.

For me to win.

I pass by a small house, the windows were opened wide - an advantage to me, as I caught a glimpse of the Bentley gaining on me.

The vehicle is almost about to knock into me - when suddenly, out of nowhere, a group of seven, tall men, dressed in black suits intervene by standing in front of me and stopping the vehicle in its tracks.

Their faces aren't very clear from my vantage point. But I somehow know that they're very attractive.

"They're shielding me." I realised with a sigh of relief. But a sense of terror quickly replaces that short reprive.

I begin to worry about their safety.

I move to stand in front of them, spreading my arms out in an attempt to protect them instead, but the tallest one of them holds me back.

"No Haneul. Let us handle this for you." His warm smile washes a sense of calm over me, his adorable dimples flash, and I give in to his request letting his arm wrap protectively around me.

One of the others, a man with a sharp jawline and broad shoulders, raises his hand to shoot, knocking the revolver out of the masked driver's hand.

But I don't hear the bang.

Instead, I feel myself falling in slow motion into the arms of the dimpled man, with the others crowding over me...

"Haneul!" They collectively shout.

"Haneul, wake up!" This voice was different. He had a deep, soulful, voice, sort of like honey on rocks.

"Please don't leave us." Another voice pleaded softly. But the owner of this voice had a gravelly purr.

...

The dream is ridiculously detailed. Each time I have this dream, the colours are always sharp, and everything feels as if it is really happening - as if this is a reality, perhaps in an alternate universe.

For starters, I do not know these men. But they know my name! How is that possible?

What could they symbolize? All dreams mean something, right?

Nothing makes sense anymore and the more I try to decipher the dream, the more confused I feel. My head hurts - there's a sort of banging inside and I feel as if my conscience is spinning back into my body.

My eyes flutter open and just like every other time I awake from this nightmare, a layer of sweat coats my skin from my neck to my arms.

My head is still spinning as if I'd just jumped off a ride at a park and it still hurts like someone was banging a hammer inside it, even though the actual headache has somewhat subsided. And if that wasn't bad enough, my heart beats at top speed in my chest, as if I'd just been running a marathon.

Once again, I wake up to an empty room. I am alone, in my bed. All alone in this flat, with the tick tock of the analogue clock on my wall as my only companion.

'But, at least I am safe.' I muttered to myself, not sure why I felt relief at the thought.

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Haneul's POV
October 11th

On the morning of my twenty-first birthday, I woke up expecting not to be bothered by anyone at all. I was given the day off to enjoy as I pleased and a voucher to spend at any store that I liked, by my very kind boss, Kang Seojin.

Mr. Kang, who is both, my colleague and the owner of the café I work at, had somehow seemed to think that I would need the day off today; even though I had made it very clear to him that I was perfectly fine with serving coffees to other people on my own birthday.

Seojin, however, would simply not have me work on my twenty-first birthday.

"Twenty-one is a girl's most special birthday in her lifetime Haneul." He'd annoyingly sang to me, clasping his hands together and batting his eyes at me, just three days before my birthday. I could see that he was not having any more of the topic.

He wasn't rude or mean, he genuinely cared. Almost like an older brother, considering he was at least twenty years older than me, I didn't see him as an older man. He looked younger than he was and treated me like his younger sibling.

He was quite protective.

Of course I did find it odd, but eventually I agreed to fill out the leave form for 'administration purposes'.

I woke up this morning with one simple thought:
'At least I'll have a whole day all to myself!'

Usually, I didn't like how busy the café got towards the end of the day. Especially whenever there were birthdays held on the premises.

My boss, Seojin-ssi, often hired out the booths at the back of the café to people who wanted to celebrate something special at Café de Bleu.

"It's great for business, Haneul!" He would often say to me in a sing-song voice.

But that didn't seem to change my mind. People always seemed to expect things: gifts, wishes, free cakes or coffees. It just isn't my ideal atmosphere.

'Because birthdays, after all are my least favourite day of the year.'

However, since my boss was kind enough to gift me a complimentary birthday voucher - of course I had declined it at first - nothing had stopped me from rushing off to my favourite bookstore after work, where I spent the voucher on a copy of an old classic novel, by Jules Verne. It was a book I was looking forward to reading and I had planned to spend the rest of my birthday doing just that!

So, you can imagine my irritation when my phone began to ring in the distance as I washed my breakfast dishes this morning. I found myself cringing inwardly, before rushing over to my bedroom, from the kitchen sink, to the little table beside my bed.

Hastily drying my hands on my jeans, I picked up the device to answer the unwanted call.

Seeing that it was from the only "family" that I had left, I found myself stopping in my tracks and smiling to myself instead, taking a seat on my bed as I answered the call.

No sooner did I press the answer button, did a deep male voice immediately greet me. "Yeoboseyo? (Hello?)"

"Yeoboseyo?" I answered in return, waiting for him to say something. It had been a while since I spoke to him.

"Haneul dear, Sengil Chukahhaeyo (Happy Birthday)."The man sang to me in a little off-key tune, wishing me a happy 21st birthday.

"Gamsahabnida Mr. Park. (Thank you). You didn't have to wish me." I said to him measuredly.

"Nonsense Haneul. You're my daughter, even if not by blood; and there's no need for such formalities with me. Okay?"

"Okay, Appa." I sighed resignedly into the receiver. I called him dad even though he isn't actually my parent.

"That's my girl. Are you busy today? Do you have any plans?" I could hear him smile at me as he spoke.

'He was worried I'd be spending my birthday all alone.'

"Aniyo (No), Appa. I just cleaned up the kitchen after breakfast and was about to read this novel I bought yesterday. Is there anything urgent you would like to discuss?" I asked him, already feeling anxious.

I had an idea about where he was headed. He did mention this to me before. But I didn't want to deal with this right now. I'm too young for legal matters!

I had decided that it's better to not argue over something so silly on my birthday, even though I had made it very clear to Mr. Park that I wouldn't be calling him Appa or visiting him much anymore. I am now old enough to survive on my own and I already felt so indebted to him.

He need not worry about protecting me from whatever it was he said he was protecting me from when was a little younger.

'I am twenty-one now. I will survive it on my own.'

You see, I don't remember much of my past. It seems a little foggy, but Mr. Pa- I mean Appa, is convinced that there is something dangerous out to get me the minute I set a foot out of my door.

It's bad enough that I feel small already with not much for extended family or friends - I didn't want to impose on him much longer.

Yet, Mr. Park tried explaining to me that he didn't mind as he never any children of his own and he cared for me as his own. Nonetheless, I still felt awkward.

Occasionally, over the last year or so, I'd still call him Appa to make him happy, especially on his birthday and other family holidays, for old times' sake.

'But off late, I began to feel a little anxious. And calling him Appa made me even more anxious. It reminded me of my own father. And my own mother.'

"Ne (Yes), I have some urgent legal matters to discuss regarding your halmoni's (grandmother's) will. Will it be possible for you to meet me at my office in the next 30 minutes or so? I will discuss the details with you once you're here."

"Ne (Yes), I shall be at your office by 09h00. Gamsahabnida (Thank you) Appa."

Insisting on keeping an eye on me, Mr. Park had found me a flat close to his office and occasionally paid me a visit to check in on me whenever he got off work earlier than expected. He'd ask if I have eaten my favourite foods recently and even bring some tuna or beef gimbap for me.

At first, I was a little annoyed by this behaviour because I felt he was becoming an overprotective father.

But after a while I grew used to seeing at least one familiar face in this new part of Seoul.

My Appa would often also visit the quaint little café that I worked at, making it his go to coffee spot for his morning espresso.

I always made sure that I am the one who served it to him and sometimes, I didn't charge him for it. It was my little gesture of appreciation to him.

On some days my Appa would offer to walk me home as the café wasn't too far from my flat and I'd usually offer him supper. He would check to see if I am safe. And after supper, he'd walk out, eyeing the neighbours suspiciously.

Not to mention, my nosy neighbours usually minded their own business whenever my Appa visited. Which, now that I think about it, was a plus point.

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Sigh ...

I sighed heavily as I looked at my now blank cellphone screen, quietly contemplating what Mr. Park, had just said to me. Mr. Park had also happened to be my deceased families' lawyer and not just my adopted father.

What were these "Urgent legal matters" that he simply could not discuss over the telephone?

My Halmoni (grandmother) had died years before my parents and I barely remembered her.

Halmoni was good to me, however, she always had meetings and sometimes forgot to visit me. My Halmoni owned "a few small businesses", as she used to say to me, though I hadn't really thought to ask her what she really did.

'I do remember visiting me at school often though...'

And even though, I had no clue what these businesses were or what happened to them after her death, I was certain that Halmoni had her reason for her secrecy.

My parents certainly kept their work life private and I always focused on my studies at school - too busy with homework and after school activities to notice.

Besides... I went to a boarding school. It was impossible for me to know anything about my family's life from the confinement of a boarding school.

It's not like my family owned anything spectacular for my mundane little life to be tracked and spied on. All I ever asked for is a nice quiet life in my tiny, one bedroom, flat in the corner of Gangnam in Seoul to spend the rest of my life.

After my parents' tragic deaths ten years ago; which the media had claimed was "a scandalous plane crash" while flying back to South Korea, just over Hong Kong, after a business meeting in China; I had sworn I wouldn't take over any family businesses or property. They all were currently held by the state and we're waiting for me to say yes to a decision I didn't want to make.

Perhaps that's what Appa wants to discuss... I groaned in agony at the thought of the long and boring conversation that awaited me.

I had even taken Mr. Park's surname when he adopted me, as I had no other living relatives; just so I could avoid inviting any trouble.

Mr. Park had been caring, friendly and even fatherly towards me since day one, however, he just wasn't my own father. His wife, whom I had fondly called Omma (mum), was a sweet woman and had taken me in with open arms.

Though, after her sudden death last winter, I felt the last few pieces of my heart shatter. It was then that I had decided to start life afresh in this tiny flat all on my own; far away from everything and everyone that reminded me of the past.

People I barely remember have tried reaching out. I would talk to them but eventually I wouldn't contact them even though they'd give me their contact details. And after dedicating my life to my studies at the University, I suppose I just didn't have the mental space to be social. Besides... I'm sure they were busy with their lives as they were much older than me.

After I left your Appa's house, I became a barista to support my own studies and accommodation; and I'm currently still working at the café, now as the second in charge, whenever the boss, Seojin was away.

My boss also gave me all the profits for the baked goodies that I made, which were sold at the café.

My best recipes were the chocolate cake, homemade fudge and Hungarian tarts.

Customers made sure to let me know which ones were their ultimate favourites - especially the regulars!

So, I didn't have to worry too much about money as I made a good-enough living and I was left a decent sum after my parents' deaths to help me in my tough times.

People made a huge deal about money... I on the other hand, just needed enough to pay my bills, buy myself good food and books!

I would often say to my colleagues: 'Life didn't have to be complicated for you to enjoy it.'

Once again, now sitting on the edge of my bed, I let out an exasperated sigh, deciding to meet my Appa, as my curiosity had piqued, finally getting the better of me.

After all, it's not like it's going to make any difference to my current state right?

Oh! How very wrong I was....!!!

~~~♡♡♡~~~

A/n: Thank you for giving this book a chance and adding it to your library!