AAE -- Twists of Fate

Part 1 -- Chapter 05

by LoveCR2

edited by All-About-AAE

 

 

Producer Park Ji-Eun paces the narrow confines of the control room, her eyes fixed on the empty chair in the recording studio.

 

"It's five minutes to air," she complains. "Where could she be?"

 

Her assistant, Kim Sook-Ja, flips through the program script as she replies, "You're worrying for nothing -- it's Jin Sun-Mi. She'll be here, like always, even if it's at the last second."

 

The board operator looks up from his console. "No, she's been different ever since she was nominated for the News At Nine. Like it's gotten to her head."

 

"Sun-Mi? No way!" Sook-Ja dissents. "How can you say that? How long have we all worked with her?"

 

"It isn't just me," Ji-Eun asserts. "The netizens have noticed, too, that she's not her usual, sunny self. Something is going on."

 

The audio engineer chuckles. "Maybe she's in a snit with that Director Yoon." She smirks. "Their relationship is becoming this station's worst-kept secret since he personally carried her out to the hospital that night."

 

"And maybe you shouldn't be repeating empty gossip!" Sook-Ja retorts. "Sun-Mi made it clear that they're just friends, from when she was still in university."

 

"Enough!" Ji-Eun cuts in. "Cue up a tape, just in case."

 

 

The heavy studio door flies open, and the control room falls silent.

 

Sun-Mi appears in the doorway, her chest heaving. She pauses to shove the door closed, then walks quickly -- her steps muffled by the carpet -- and drops her office tote on the desk. In one continuous move, she sits in the chair, swivels to the microphone, and slips on the headset.

 

"Sorry I'm late," she says breathlessly, looking for Ji-Eun through the control room window. "I forgot the time."

 

She removes a binder of program notes from her office tote and places it on the desk, then stares at the microphone.

 

Ji-Eun scrutinizes her through the glass. "Sixty seconds to air, Sun-Mi," she says through the headset. "You don't look well. We can run a tape if you prefer."

 

Sun-Mi takes a stack of cards from her tote and fans them out. "I'm fine. Just a little tired."

 

"You're sure that's all it is?" Ji-Eun replies with a mischievous grin. "I can put Director Yoon on standby, just in case."

 

Sun-Mi smiles -- it is the running joke in the studio. "That won't be necessary tonight, Ji-Eun."

 

Ji-Eun shakes her head. She cuts the intercom and turns to speak to her assistant.

 

Sun-Mi adjusts the microphone by a few millimeters. She arranges the postcards and her note cards in sequence for the evening's program. Then she opens her wallet and removes a black and white photo of Woo-Jin. She places it on the desk, to her right.

 

"Thirty seconds," Ji-Eun's voice interrupts. "Ready, Sun-Mi?"

 

Sun-Mi nods. Her throat feels suddenly dry. She reaches for her water, but her hand stops halfway. The bottle stays where it is.

 

The studio clock counts down the final seconds. 3... 2... 1... The ON AIR light comes on.

 

The first notes of Brian Crain's 'Northern Lights' fade in, soft and luminous. Ji-Eun points at her.

 

Sun-Mi inhales.

 

"Good evening..." her voice is low and soft over the music. "You're listening to 'Musical Postcards' on MBS Radio 95.9 FM. I'm your host, Jin Sun-Mi..."

 

The piano track fades to silence.

 

"There's a line Yun Dong-Ju wrote -- 'Wishing not to have so much as a speck of shame toward heaven...' -- and some nights, that wish feels a little heavier."

 

Her fingers trace the edge of a postcard.

 

"Our first card tonight is from Han Soo-Bin in Mok-dong. Soo-Bin writes that she hesitated on a decision -- just for a moment -- and now she keeps replaying it, wondering if someone else's life might have turned out differently."

 

"Soo-Bin... regret is a creative storyteller. It can rewrite entire histories in your mind. But we don't control every scene in someone else's life. We barely control our own."

 

Her fingernail bites into the paper, leaving a faint crescent.

 

Outside, a thunderstorm gathers over Yeouido, darkening the sky. Lightning flashes through the studio windows, the soundproof glass muting the thunder.