AAE -- For Better For Worse

Part 3 -- Chapter 40

by LoveCR2

edited by All-About-AAE

 

 

Kim Sun-Dal eases open the door to the Studio D production control room and steps inside. Behind him, the door closes with a soft pneumatic hiss. The ON AIR light burns red. The LED master clock displays 15:51. The faint hum of electronics underlies the muffled voices coming from the studio over the audio speakers.

 

As he makes his way toward the soundproof observation windows, heads turn. A ripple of whispers precedes him -- the Director of Programming is here. Sun-Dal steps up beside the PD, gives him a cursory nod and a casual smile. All eyes move back to the studio floor.

 

Fresh Perspectives  was relocated to cavernous Studio D after ticket demand overwhelmed every other available studio. The set, ringed by flat-panel video walls, faces a darkened auditorium where an eager audience fills every seat.

 

Under bright lights, three pastel upholstered swivel chairs -- pink, yellow, blue -- sit in a gentle arc on a raised platform. Small round tables beside each chair hold water glasses. Behind them, large rectangular planters soften the space with greenery, forming a pocket of intimacy inside the vast studio.

 

Two women sit in the center and left chairs. One with stylish soft waves framing her face, wears a lavender pants suit and heels. The other sports a middle-aged ajumma's tightly permed, loud floral dress, and comfortable flats. On the video wall behind them. images of entrepreneurial mothers -- one in a boardroom, another in a traditional market with children -- cycle in slow, seamless transitions.

 

Sun-Mi occupies the right-most chair. Her chestnut hair is twisted into a loose chignon, and a tailored cream-yellow Sweet Plus maternity dress drapes her basketball-round belly.

 

"...thank you both for coming on our program today and sharing your life stories with us," she says, her voice carrying the same velvet warmth that had once made her radio listeners crown her the 'Goddess of Love'.

 

She turns toward the studio audience. "Let's show our love for our guests tonight."

 

Immediate warm applause rises from the gallery.

 

 

The PD adjusts the microphone on his headset. "Anchor standby... Camera 2 -- slow zoom on Sun-M." He snaps his fingers. "Anchor!"

 

Sun-Mi swivels her chair to face the camera, rose-tinted lips curving into her signature, practiced-yet-genuine smile.

 

"For those viewers who watch regularly, you already know that this is the final edition of our program this season," she says, her announcer's steady cadence softened by a bubbly lilt. "In the next several days, my husband and I expect to welcome a new member into our family..."

 

The studio audience breaks into applause -- sudden, affectionate, unrestrained.

 

Sun-Mi looks down, raising a hand to cover her reddening cheeks.

 

"Thank you. Thank you all..." Her voice wavers. She touches a manicured pink fingertip to the corner of her eye. "It's because of your love and loyalty that this program has been possible..."

 

"Camera one... ready," the PD murmurs into his microphone.

 

"...and will return for our next season, starting in September."

 

She looks up, her smile widening again.

 

"This is Jin Sun-Mi... the entire staff of Fresh Perspectives and I wish you a healthy and hopeful week... Until next time!"

 

"Camera 1... roll," the PD snaps. "Camera 2... cut!"

 

The broadcast feed monitor switches to a wide view of the set. Sun-Mi and her guests rise. She gestures for them to go first -- a small wave of her hand -- and they step down from the platform and walk off camera. She follows.

 

But at the edge of the set, she stops, turns back, blows a kiss, and waves one last time.

 

The audience erupts. Applause booms through the studio and into the control room.

 

The PD raises his voice over the din. "That's a wrap! Everyone worked hard. Thank you."

 

 

The assistant PD waves a printout over his head. "The InstaPol results just came in -- we topped at 45 -- first place!"

 

A scatter of high fives crack around the control room.

 

Sun-Dal turns to the PD. "Nice work. I'll go out and tell Announcer Jin."

 

He steps into the organized chaos of a studio crew changing out a set. Electricians pull cables, looping them into neat coils. Motors whir as riggers lower lighting trusses down from the grid. Floor crew haul props and slowly trundle heavy crates of gear toward storage.

 

Sun-Mi is seated on a metal folding chair, her feet tucked into comfortable slippers. Beside her, a pair of milk-white Jimmy Choo Talika 85 d'Orsay pumps gleam under the work lights.

 

She chats animatedly with some crew members. They exchange bows and wave goodbyes as Sun-Dal approaches.

 

Seeing him, she starts to rise. "Director Kim..."

 

Sun-Dal lifts a hand. "Please remain seated, Sun-Mi. You must be tired."

 

She nods. "Exhausted, actually. But it's my last day, so it's bearable."

 

He smiles. "You polled at 45 today. That's the largest spread yet. Seven weeks straight in first place."

 

"Senior will be so happy," she remarks, chuckling. "He's my biggest fan."

 

"How do you feel about going on leave, at the peak of your comeback?"

 

She sighs. "I'm looking forward to the time off, but I'm missing the staff and crew already. Oh -- and don't worry, I'll have the monthly reports on your desk before I go home tonight. I don't want anyone saying the next News At Nine anchor started her leave early."

 

 

He waves a hand. "I'm not here about the reports. I stopped by to say Joo-Hee wants to see you before you leave for the day."

 

"Do you know why?"

 

He lowers his voice. "It's about News At Nine. She wants you to be the first to know the Executive Committee's decision."

 

"That's very considerate of the President," Sun-Mi replies, a thread of sarcasm in her voice.

 

She slips on blush Salvatore Ferragamo low-wedge pumps and grabs her office tote. As she gets up, a brief wince flickers over her face as one hand goes instinctively to her lower back.

 

His brow creases. "Is something wrong?"

 

"It's nothing." She straightens. "Thanks for coming to my last show, Uncle. I'll go up right now."

 

"I thought you were exhausted. You should have a rest first."

 

She grins. "Didn't you say, we shouldn't keep the 'Iron Lady' waiting?"

 

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

 

Miss Lee jumps to her feet as Sun-Mi enters the executive suite.

 

"I'm here to see President Yoo. Is she available?"

 

"She's expecting you, Announcer Jin." Her voice lowers. "How's the baby?"

 

Sun-Mi smiles. "Thanks for asking. He's been kicking more lately, like he can't wait to see the world."

 

 

Miss Lee presses the intercom. "Announcer Jin is here."

 

Joo-Hee's voice, clipped and mechanical, crackles through the speaker. "Send her in."

 

"This way." Miss Lee leads Sun-Mi to the door and opens it, silently mouths, "Good luck."

 

Sun-Mi nods. She takes a breath, steps inside -- and freezes. Her grip tightens on the tote. Her stomach heaves. Heat floods her cheeks. Her pulse spikes.

 

A memory flashes -- Joo-Hee in Hyung-Chul's embrace -- sharp, vivid, searing.

 

 

Joo-Hee is at her desk, blazer hanging neatly on the coat tree behind it. She looks up and smiles. "Come in, Sun-Mi. It's been a while since you were here."

 

Sun-Mi exhales quietly, her heartbeat slowing back to normal. She steps forward.

 

Picking up a white envelope, Joo-Hee circles around her desk.

 

Sun-Mi stops in the center of the room, waiting. Joo-Hee approaches, fashion-model-thin in a silver gray Herve Leger bandage dress. The snug bodice highlights her slender waist, the tapered knee-length skirt and nude Louboutin Very Prive 120 pumps make her legs look impossibly long.

 

Sun-Mi glances down at her own rounded belly, shifts her feet uneasily, then looks up again as Joo-Hee comes closer.

 

"I saw the ratings -- good work today. But you must be tired, carrying all that weight," Joo-Hee says, her sweetly gracious tone gilding a cutting edge. "Please, have a seat."

 

They settle into gray leather chairs facing each other across a low ebony table.

 

"Something to drink?"

 

"No. Thank you," Sun-Mi replies. "You wanted to see me, President Yoo? About News At Nine?"

 

"This is the second year we've conducted thorough market surveys for all combinations of our candidates. You ranked at the top."

 

"And whom will I be co-anchoring with?"

 

Oh... wasn't I clear? 'All combinations' included possible solo anchors. It appears today's audiences prefer to place their trust in a mature mother of four, over a garden-variety celebrity," she says, adding a slight twist to the corner of her lips. "It's an unprecedented accomplishment, given your lengthy absence from the local market. Congratulations."

 

She places the envelope flat on the table between them.

 

"The Executive Committee reached a unanimous decision in extending an offer -- with my endorsement, of course -- after your success with Fresh Perspectives."

 

Using her fingertips, she slides the envelope toward Sun-Mi.

 

"I've taken the liberty of drawing up your new contract. All it needs is a signature."

 

Sun-Mi leans forward, clenching her jaw against her protesting back. She picks up the envelope and slips it into her office tote.

 

"I appreciate the accolades, President Yoo. I'll give your offer due consideration with the others."

 

Joo-Hee's eyes narrow. "You have other offers? KBC... SBC?"

 

Sun-Mi smiles. "Let's just say I've been noticed. A thirteen-percent rise in MBS stock in the last four months -- a rise that correlated with my ratings -- has opened some eyes."

 

Joo-Hee sucks in a breath. "Whatever they're offering, I'm certain we can counter-offer."

 

Sun-Mi leans forward. "Actually, you have the one thing they can't offer. And that's all I want."

 

"Name it."

 

"In my husband's settlement with your father, he was forced not only to give up all parental rights to his son, but also all inheritance rights for any future children. My children. I want those rights reinstated."

 

Joo-Hee hesitates. Her eyes shift, then she nods. "Agreed. My father went too far. It's not only fair, but the right thing to do. Is that all?"

 

Sun-Mi lightens her tone. "As women, we share something in common -- Senior, father to our children -- but that link has also put us at odds. This has to end. We need to work together, not in contention..."

 

She fixes her gaze on Joo-Hee. "How do you honestly feel about Senior -- now -- deep in your heart?"

 

 

Silence weighs heavy as Joo-Hee looks down at her hands, clasped in her lap. The sterile air of the office feels suddenly thin.

 

"You saw, didn't you? I always suspected it," she mutters, barely audible, her voice hollow.

 

"I've discussed it with Senior, and know how he feels. But I want to hear it from you, too."

 

"That day... I knew I was wrong to ask him for those five minutes, but I couldn't contain the sorrow in my heart." Joo-Hee looks up, her eyes earnest. "It's all that happened -- that's the truth. The end between us."

 

Sun-Mi nods. "Senior said the same. Now that you've confirmed it, consider the matter closed, as if it never happened."

 

"It's not closed, not yet," Joo-Hee counters. "I stepped over the line. I broke your trust."

 

She rises and steps out of her shoes. In her stocking feet, she starts to go down on one knee.

 

Sun-Mi stands abruptly. "Get up, Joo-Hee. This isn't necessary."

 

"But it is." Now on both knees, Joo-Hee bows her head. "Jin Sun-Mi, please forgive me. I've learned from my mistakes, and sincerely repent of my foolish actions. I won't repeat them."

 

"You don't have to..." Sun-Mi takes a step around the table -- then stops short. A sharp gasp escapes her.

 

Joo-Hee looks up.

 

Sun-Mi's face is pale. She clamps a hand over her belly as another gasp shudders out of her.

 

"What is it, Sun-Mi?"

 

"It's the baby. I think it's time!" She staggers back to her chair and collapses into it. "I need to call Senior."

 

Joo-Hee leaps to her feet. "I'll do it. And have a car waiting at the door."

 

 

Sun-Mi's body tightens. She squeezes her eyes shut, trembling. The contraction crests and ebbs -- only for another to seize her almost immediately.

 

Her fingers claw into the chair. "Uhhhhhh!" The guttural moan surges up from deep in her chest.

 

Joo-Hee whips around, eyes wide, phone already at her ear. "Sun-Mi! Are you okay?"

 

"Call the nurse instead!" Sun-Mi shrieks. "He's coming -- now!"