#exist;prompt

     Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat.

     Such a monotonous necessity, yet she needed to remind herself to take a breath lest she fall into darkness. She peers outside to view the waning moon be swallowed by the yellowy hues of the approaching dawn. A sigh breaks past her lips, thin body rising out of bed though she’s giving up much needed sleep, desperate to escape the nightmares that had been attacking her mind throughout the night.

     She rakes a hand through her hair, too tired to be bothered to go retrieve a brush and actually manage the chaos atop her head. Her legs slowly carry her from her room, only barely catching her reflection in the bathroom as she exits; the purple bags under her eyes glaring at her from afar. Jihyo pays no attention to them, having grown used to the discolored skin when the phone calls had begun, the shrill tone a bitter reminder of her past. 

     Refusal of a God she had once praised had led to madness, the cross that had once rested between her collarbones now lying forgotten on her dresser. No heaven would accept her, nor were they offering her any protection from the evils that roamed the earth.

     She makes coffee, eats breakfast, and then she crawls back into bed. Hours pass, each one spent curled up in a ball with the sheets pulled over her head. There’s a weak sense of security beneath the white fabric, and she clings to it as she waits for the red numbers on the clock to hit nine. 

     Her mind drifts to two years prior, back when she had let her long hair fall freely and her face had been always graced with a simple smile. Things changed quickly. The fleeting amount of joy she managed to find never lasted, causing her to only be able to see grey. Old friends merely became shadows as she closed in on herself, memories of the past crushing her like furious waves.

     She had snapped, one drink too many and she broke. Shrouded in mist she stayed silent, the moment over before she realized what she had done. Before her lay a body, someone she had once held dear, and in her hand a knife painted red.

     The phone rings and she pales, her thoughts rushing away like a distant dream. Her eyes flicker to her clock. Nine o’clock, the call was on time. She hesitates for a moment, praying to a God she no longer believed in against conscious thought before trembling fingers pick up the phone. 

     She stays silent, the voice relaying its same line for the fifteenth day in a row.

     “I know what you did.”

     Jihyo opens her mouth to answer, but the end tone cuts her off before she even has the chance to take a breath. She sits there, phone still against her ear before she breaks down and sobs. Tears roll down her cheeks and the phone slips from her grasp, bouncing on the mattress beside her.

     Without the calls to remind her, she may have been able to continue locking the visual of her lost love bloodied and cold on the ground; the five simple words tearing the curtain away from her eyes to see once again. The tears keep flowing, the female gasping for air as her hands tug at her hair. She wants to scream, but emits no sound when she opens her mouth. 

     She falls to the bed helpless and in pain, panic wracking her body. If someone knew what she had done, surely she would be caught and locked away behind cold, unforgiving bars. Fear devours her, and she curls in on herself once again, this time her body violently rocking with each sob. The affliction was well deserved, her eyes red when she pulls herself out of the fetal position and rises from her bed.

     There’s only one choice for her now, and with a shaky breath she pulls open the drawer of her dresser and retrieves the one item that can free her from her misery. 

     A quivering finger settles on the trigger, a pitiful sound escaping the female as she positions the metal object. 

     “God, please forgive me.”

     Her voice is weak, once again pleading to an entity she had sworn to forget. She stands for a minute more, body quivering in fear. 

“Ai!” The voice of their landlord sounded through the main hall of the apartment building as Ai entered. They turned up the volume of their phone, not wanting to talk to him. They’d never liked him and they would try to avoid him at all cost, but today seemed one of those days they couldn’t avoid him.

“Ai!” he exclaimed again.  But to seemingly no avail.

They were busy, busy figuring out the easiest way to shoot up the stairway towards their apartment without actually having to face the man. They were in no mood to talk to him, they were tired, and all they wanted to do was sleep for a bit.

Or at least that was their plan. A meaty hand grabbed onto their shoulder, pulling them back just as they wanted to rush up.

“There’s a delivery for you, Miss Ai.”

Their eyes shot up as the feminine way of addressing was used before their name and they jerked their arm free. “Have it returned to the post office. I haven’t ordered anything, I don’t get gifts sent here. So it’s probably a wrong delivery.” They spoke in a calm voice, trying to get their landlord to finally leave them alone.

But he’d already left.

Ai sighed to themselves as they made the way up a few flights of stairs, the door to their room basically being blocked by a – rather big – box. Curiosity peaked, but fear still overpowered. What if it was a mistake, what if it really was not for them? They inched closer, opening their door before pushing over the box and pulling it inside, being as careful as they could just in case they were going to have to send it back – the option which seemed most viable to them.

It didn’t take as long to get the box to their room, observing the box curiously. Humanoidpersocom? That didn’t really sound like something they’d look up, let alone buy, in the first place. But it was no lie: their name was on the box, their address was on the box. It was all nothing but incredibly confusing.

All that was left was for them to open it.

“What am I supposed to do with this?!” They exclaimed, to no one in particular after struggling to get the box open, staring at a blank face after finally managing to do so.

However, as they spoke the words, the – seemingly female human-like – creature in the box opened its eyes. Ai gasped, stopping their speech and trying their best to not freak out even further.

“I’m here to serve. You’re free to let me do whatever you need, I’m under your command.” The voice was not human. The voice was… indescribable. One would expect it to be robotic, but it wasn’t. It was something between human and robot, and it brought shivers to their spine.

Ai took a while to regain their composure, getting up themselves to sit down on the couch before telling the robot-person, or whatever it was, to come sit by them. Their voice was shaky as they spoke, but the robot, conveniently dubbed Sooyeon, the most common name they could come up with at that point, caught on to their nerves, seemingly instinctively wrapping its arms around them.

It didn’t feel like a robot. It felt comfortable, it felt warm, and just like that, Ai felt at ease. But they still had one important question.

“What brought you here?”

“I’m not sure, I was told about you, about what you’re like, and what you need… but I don’t know who sent me here…. All I know is that it clearly was not you.” Sooyeon laughed ever so lightly, and the voice had changed. It was melodious and a lot more resembling of a voice belonging to a human female.

‘It’s okay, Ai, there’s nothing to be afraid of, it’s probably one of your friends who thought you needed someone to come home to, or something gross like that.’

They had to keep on reminding themselves of this as they leaned against the creature. But it felt nice, it felt right. “So you’re saying you’d do anything I ask of you..?” They rested their head on the robot’s shoulder, feeling themselves get more tired by the minute.

Sooyeon confirmed, and seemed to even be able to read Ai’s emotions and the room around them as it got up, carefully laying them down on the couch before rushing into their bedroom to grab a blanket. It then came back, draping the blanket over their body before sitting down, patting at its lap. “Go rest… you look like you need it, Ai-ssi.”

Just like a chameleon the reporter blended in with the rest of the invited guest, hanging off the arm of another influential writer; not a single person cared to ask of her identity. To them the woman could be nothing more than an airheaded, young model dragged along to play the role of some trophy. Long legs paired with a slender yet curvy frame- one would go as far as to say she fit the part perfectly, if it weren’t for the absolutely twisted expression that settled upon Jinah’s beautiful features. Those damned black pumps- one of the most uncomfortable things she had dawned on- were scarping at the back of her heels and was quick to push at the woman’s urge to want to walk around barefooted instead despite how socially unacceptable that was for such an event. That urge steadily grew as the day wore on leading up to this so very highly anticipated wedding. The main reason for the reporters even bothering to get up today, besides it being a good thing to for many in her profession to further their careers of course, though fortunately for her they had been banned from attending. Well, aside from the ones paid off to write up the picture perfect wedding. Such a smart move when the groom himself was lower than scum, but not smart enough when one, her, had found a key connection on the inside and was easily able to smuggle herself in.

Now, wouldn’t the public be interested in the story of how a divorced man, a respected CEO mogul by all public accounts, had healed so quickly not two months after his ex-wife’s mysterious illness and departure was now marrying his close friend? By his words, a person who had got him through the hard time and picked him back up on his feet. Those that weren’t so easily blinded by the sugar-coated lies over this scandalous relationship knew that this hadn’t been just some close family friend, but his mistress. The question plaguing her mind right then: were they both in on this together and had it been planned out? This mistress could very well have been completely innocent of any wrongdoing, or the CEO himself, despite his greed and inability to wait for a socially acceptable mourning period, honestly might not have had anything to do with it. It really all came down to the information she gathered there in hopes of putting together all of the pieces of this particular puzzle. Unfortunately throughout the buzz of this entire ordeal a certain pesky personal assistant continued to block a lot of the access needed to piece all of this together. This had all begun two months prior and had cause the two women to become locked in a back and forth rumble with each other with each step closer that Jinah took to unearthing the truth, that damned assistant would be right there to throw her right off track again. Though the two actually never really came face-to-face with one another; the only glimpse this woman had of Jinah and her appearance, her attire hadn’t been anywhere near to presentable- or as her mother would like to describe, a straight on street bum. Life as we all know just loves to throw curve balls; one of which led to the two woman being separated from their dates in the bustle of the guests and staff trying to get in place for the ceremony’s begin. With a hand clasped loosely holding onto the arm of her date--Jinah stood half listening to the small conversation he’d engaged in with whom was assumed to be the assistant’s date. This guy really knew how to yap his gums, didn’t he? Throughout her eyes shifted to focusing on something just a bit more interesting. Fidgeting like made the woman that stood opposite of her leaned over to whisper and the male nodded a frown creased at his brow. Tsk, tsk to leave a PDA that held so much importance just lying around in the hotel’s lobby; what a disaster. Now, unfortunately for the CEO’s personal assistant it’d become just that, but could lead to Jinah grabbing more pieces needed to connect this puzzling mystery. Drastic times called for drastic measures. So upon taking notice he hurried way in which the woman left their little conversation, excusing herself rather shakily; the reporter took that opportunity to slip away to trailing right behind the other female’s heels. The moment those doors opened to the elevator, a pale faced assistant could be seen entering and panting heavily as she was flustered from panicked thoughts of someone getting their hands on the device. In the midst of that she’d forgotten to press the button for the floor though she thought she had; leaving just enough time for Jinah to slip her ways inside just before those doors closed behind her. Just as she could move her dainty little finger she moved to discreetly pressing at the stop button after she pushed for the lobby. Emergency breaks worked wonders just a shame it hadn’t been used in the proper way as the elevator gave a jolt halting in its movement. “What’s happening…what’s going on… is it broken… oh god...” disturbing the thick silence that’d fallen in that tight space vicinity.

Jinah wasn’t heartless and in truth so very far from that. The time spent in that elevator the reporter focused on the comforting the other woman enough without outing the true nature as to why. Mainly to cease the near to deafening wails that came from the other as if she were about to be physically harmed; though if that screaming had continued Jinah might have been tempted to smack a shoe right against the woman’s wide mouth. Alas a little “girl talk” managed to do the trick, gaining the woman’s trust just a bit to rill her in to spill a few secrets that weighed so heavily on her poor conscience by letting out a few made up of her own from the fashion industry. Goodness knows that the closest thing to modeling Jinah ever done had been for the family Christmas portraits that her mother insisted on for last year. Before she knew it Haneul---the assistant’s blubbered out in the midst of wheezing rant about how terribly demanding the CEO’s could be and that if it weren’t for the fact that she needed a few hours of sleep to keep up in stressful schedule she might have killed over. 

Hold on a second the “I do’s” hadn’t even been spoken yet. 

Doing her best to tone the curiosity that wanted to seep through down she only urged the other on a bit more. There remained a very limited time on how long maintenance would take to getting the elevator up and running again. “If it wasn’t for the merger none of this would be happening. That woman has no idea what she’s marrying into and I’ve already been threatened once.” Bingo…All the talk of a ill ex-Mrs. Kang was part of an elaborate plot staged to up the upstanding CEO’s power in his business venture. Yes, marry the daughter, gain the trust needed to make a huge deal that wouldn’t be so easily broken after all the papers were signed. Then say “hello” quickie divorce. Power couples really knew how to take it to the next level; they worked together faking the wife’s illness and the husband so hurt riddled deep in his depression had nowhere else to lean, but the lovely daughter of his new future business partner. It all made sense now; scandalous. 

There came another jolt and though the panic had risen up in Haneul except this time for a completely different reason. Jinah had already begun piecing together everything she felt she needed to connect the mystery of such a surprise wedding. Finally able to kick off those treacherous shoes, after all there was no longer any use in keeping up the model image;once the loud dinging sounded to alert they’d reached the lobby floor the reporter stepped out of it quickly as the doors opened. “Wait a minute, wait!” assistant’s pleading could be heard coming from behind as the woman  clumsily scramble after her realizing she’d said far too much. That’s the dangers of giving up your trust to a complete stranger. Jinah really held no intentions of throwing that poor woman to the wolves not with the information she now had. The CEO and his “ex-wife”, however, had something to worry about. It was  time to make a few calls.