The next day, I went to work wearing the same bag I had brought to Lee Jae-kwang’s party, with a large shopping bag slung over my shoulder.

Even when I saw the SUV again, I made a conscious effort not to look in its direction.

Just in case, I clutched my cell phone – already dialed 112, ready to call for help at a moment’s notice – and stuck to streets with lots of foot traffic or visible security cameras.

Maybe it was the constant tension that kept my nerves on edge.

By the time I got to the training room, I felt completely drained.

“Oh? Seo-hae, are you going somewhere today? You look a little different than usual… Is that a new bag?”

As I greeted the early arriving members and put my things down, some of them noticed that the bag was from a famous luxury brand.

I casually gave the excuse I had prepared.

“Oh, this? It’s a fake.”

“Really? Wow, they make them so good these days. I totally thought it was real.”

“Does it look like it?”

“You usually dress pretty casually, Seo-hae, but today you look like someone with plans – like you really put some thought into your outfit. And to show up with such a pretty bag – I was wondering what was going on.”

“I just wanted a change. The design was so pretty that I bought it on impulse, but if I’d known it was a fake in the first place, I probably wouldn’t have bought it.”

“Unless you’re really into designer brands, it’s hard to tell the difference. These days, the designs all look so similar anyway-everyone copies each other.”

Fortunately, they believed everything I said.

And it made sense – the bag was in a price range that most people wouldn’t dream of buying, even if they scraped together every last penny.

If I’d said it was real, they would have been even more suspicious.

After arriving at the rehearsal room, I made sure to stay with the other members and didn’t move around by myself.

With our out-of-town performance coming up, we were busy rehearsing to fine-tune everything, so I didn’t have any reason or time to go outside anyway.

After practicing hard and barely eating between rehearsals, we finally took a short break.

Everyone was too exhausted to move, except for a few who staggered out and said they were going to get coffee because they felt like they were going to pass out.

I was no different.

Lacking the energy to get up, I remained seated, pulled my sanjo gayageum into my lap, and picked out a Christmas carol that I sometimes played just to loosen up.

I plucked the strings at the pace of my own mood when someone walked by and made a casual comment.

“What the-why does Jingle Bells sound so sad? At first I thought it was a different song.”

That was when it hit me.

Music is amazingly intuitive.

The emotions of the performer are conveyed directly to the listener – sometimes even feelings that the performer didn’t fully realize or tried to hide come to the surface.

“Seo-hae, could you try playing it again at a faster, more upbeat tempo? Since we mentioned it the other day, I thought it would be nice to make a short video showing the daily life of the orchestra as we prepare for the performance.”

Right on cue, another colleague chimed in.

As if nothing had happened, I quickly played a few old carols in a light, upbeat tone.

“Since we have to meet early tomorrow morning, how about we wrap things up for today and go home?”

It was just after 4 p.m. when we all agreed to end practice for the day.

While the other members scattered, I slipped into the bathroom.

There I changed into the clothes I had packed in my shopping bag and pulled my hat low over my face.

I didn’t take anything with me except the bag.

Since playing instruments at home could disturb my neighbors, I rarely brought mine unless I had a special reason.

I took a quick look in the mirror.

The brim of the hat covered more than half of my face, making me look almost like a different person compared to that morning.

The loose-fitting clothes I had deliberately chosen to hide my silhouette also helped.

I didn’t leave the restroom until I was told that the taxi I’d ordered had arrived.

My destination was a business hotel not far from here.

For now, my plan was to stay off their radar for the day.

I had left my pre-packed suitcase at the front door and asked the local deliveryman-who regularly handled packages in our neighborhood-to pick it up.

The delivery address was the Leesh Hotel.

When I got there, all I had to do was receive the delivery under my name.

If I could just get through today safely, I’d be safe over the weekend while traveling out of town with the orchestra.

I mentally reviewed my plan step by step.

As long as I was still part of the orchestra, it was important not to cause any trouble for my colleagues and to concentrate on the out-of-town performance.

When I returned on Monday, I planned to find a nearby women-only goshitel (small boarding house).

Since I’d be at the rehearsal studio all day anyway, a place to sleep would be more than enough.

It was absurd to think about finding a new place to stay when I already had a perfectly good home, but if I considered it the price of safety, it was something I could bear.

As expected, the SUV didn’t recognize me with my changed appearance.

I managed to shake off whoever it was – him or them – and made it to the business hotel, where I booked a cheap single room for the night.

The next morning, I successfully joined the other orchestra members who had gathered early to board the chartered tour bus.

It was a success.

“Ugh, I’m so stiff!”

Kyujin, completely exhausted from sitting in the same position for hours on the bus, collapsed on the hotel bed.

I came in dragging my suitcase that I had left at the concierge.

“You had your luggage sent by courier?”

“Yes.”

“Wow, Seo-hae, that’s brilliant. Well, I guess it makes sense – the delivery services in our country are really efficient. For just a few thousand won, you don’t have to carry anything; they bring it right to your door. If I’d known earlier, I’d have done the same as you… Maybe I’ll send my stuff by courier when we get back. As soon as people heard that I was going to Gyeongju, they started asking me to bring them bread and cookies. I had no idea there were so many kinds of bread in Gyeongju!”

Kyujin, who didn’t know the full story behind my situation, responded with lighthearted admiration.

After unpacking in our assigned rooms and rehearsing smoothly in preparation for tomorrow’s performance, we broke up early for the evening.

We all had dinner together at a restaurant someone had recommended, and then enjoyed the nighttime view of Donggung Palace and Wolji Pond, reminiscing about old school trips from years past.

By the time we returned on the hotel shuttle provided for guests, it was already late at night.

Nevertheless, Kyujin and some other energetic colleagues had left their rooms, determined to enjoy their stay at the much talked about Leesh Hotel to the fullest.

Left alone in the room, I lay down on the bed and tried to get some sleep for tomorrow’s schedule.

I left the ambient light near the entrance on so it wouldn’t be too dark when Kyujin returned, then curled up on my side, hugging the crisp hotel sheets.

I was drifting in and out of a light sleep when suddenly – the screen of my cell phone, resting on my pillow, lit up.

Startled, I opened my eyes.

—Come out. Right now.

It was practically an order at this point.

I stared at the screen.

“Come out” just like that, with no context or explanation. Where exactly was it supposed to be?

There was no way for me to know.

Even if I did, I was away from Seoul for a performance. How could I meet him even if I wanted to?

I considered ignoring him like I usually did, but the thought that he might already be on his way to meet me and what kind of violent outburst he might have if I didn’t show up made me hesitate.

So this time I replied.

—I’m not going.

Part of me wanted to respond with a string of curses as vile as his messages.

But if I acted that way, he might begin to doubt my identity.

So I took every last ounce of patience I had and wrote a calm message, pretending to be Eun-sae.

As soon as the reply was sent, I turned my phone around.

I had made my position clear – whatever he said next was no longer my concern.

If I wanted to go into tomorrow’s performance with a calm mind, it was better not to be constantly on edge waiting for Lee Jae-kwang’s next reaction.

After trying to fall asleep, I finally dozed off for a while.

Then I woke up again.

I think it was because I wasn’t used to the bed.

Even yesterday, in the business hotel, I had woken up two or three times in the middle of the night.

At some point, Kyujin must have come back and turned off the light – the room was completely dark now.

It must have been around two or three in the morning.

From the bed next to me, I could hear her soft, steady breathing.

I reached for the pillow and fumbled for my phone to check it – when a new message appeared on the screen.

—What the hell do you think you’re pulling, b*tch? Hey, where are you?