Finally, Found The Lighthouse

“Jiseok, or Lane, as you both might know him as…. Please don’t refrain from any details about what happened to him.”

Vidya and the stranger sat on the bright sofa covered with checkered patterns of every autumnal color combination that the odd woman had ever created.

Across a coffee table cluttered with treats and steaming mugs of coffee, the woman observed them intently. She wore pearly, laced glasses, the tiny beads weighing down the neck of her aquamarine turtleneck. The outfit was completed with matching jet-black leather pants, and she wore black heels with red bottoms.

Despite her sharply defined pixie cut, it didn’t detract from her sense of fashion.

Nor her other sense as well.

“We have absolutely no issues with the explaining part. We just want to know, what’s your connection to Lane or Jiseok in this regard? Other than a humble bookkeeper that he complains about on his social media as his mother?”

The girl narrowed her eyes down at the woman, who gave out a light laugh and went off from her office or her personal library.

“Hey, any guess how much that chandelier cost?” The man finally spoke after stuffing himself with condiments of candy and coffee.

“I didn’t take a note of that huge dangle-ly fireball up there. Do you think she went out to pull the lever for it to drop on us?” Vidya pressed a hand against her churning stomach, disturbed by the gruesome imagery she had conjured up in her mind.

“Way to go! Now, I can’t eat!” His last bitten cookie was thrown directly into the bin placed right next to the coffee table temporarily.

“Don’t worry. Madam, isn’t that cruel, to say the least?”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Both guests launched into the air, a synchronized scream of terror as the checkered sofa tipped backward with a deafening thud, spilling them onto the floor in a heap of limbs and autumn-colored cushions.

Gaining both of them an extra visit to the surgery room for their unfortunate backs.

“Pia! Why, thank you for scaring the guests once again with your mere presence.”

The woman-the real Madam-re-entered the room, gently guiding a grumpy-looking teenager in rumpled pajamas out of the office behind her. They couldn’t hear the specifics of their conversation, but it clearly escalated into a tantrum and protests from both sides. The woman opened the door but didn’t go through. With her back facing the guest, she stood silently in the entrance-a clear, unyielding expectation.

With the ghost girl gone, the guest managed to finally pick themselves up in utter humiliation and embarrassment over the prior defensive stance.

From the hallway, a new voice chimed in, laced with affectionate exasperation. “Pia! Why are you out of your bed this late, dear?”

Before the door snapped down the hallway, her furious scream echoed back.

“SHUT IT! OLD MAN!”

“Jasper! She didn’t mean it! Once you’re done, please come to the office!”

With that, she finally shut the door to the cohere hall down and retreated to her former seat.

“I must apologize for our daughter—I mean foster daughter’s tantrums! She just got her first period.” The bookkeeper had a leather-bound book on her lap.

Curiosity got both of them hooked on it.

“Oh boy! That explains it!” The man blurted, trying to lighten the mood.

“Remember Vid? When did you get yours? You literally went on a murder spree on all of us! Especially your broth—”

The man clenched his jaw tight, realizing the dire situation at hand.

The air in the room went cold.

He had just thrown a lit match into a room full of ghosts.

“It’s okay, Ryan.” The girl’s voice was soft, a stark contrast to her usual sharpness. She gave his arm a gentle pat, a silent pardon for the unforgivable slip-up.

His face had drained of all color.

“Please excuse me for a minute.”

He choked out, and before the woman could even gesture to the washroom, he was on his feet and out of the room, the door sighing shut behind him.

“Seems like you do have a lot of baggage to unfold.” The woman’s softened demure eased up on her a little. But not to the point where she breaks her facade.

The moment of shared vulnerability was over.

“Indeed. So back to it, who are you?” With no distractions in sight, the two intellects could finally speak with free rein of strategies.

A slow, knowing smile touched the woman’s lips. She leaned forward, the leather book creaking in her lap.

“Brutal. Fine, if that’s what you want… no sympathy for either of us….. Is Vidya Kumari your real name? Or is it, VechNos?”

“It is. Now, tell me, Mrs. Garrison? What is Jiseok to you?” The whiplash was sharp and precise. Both the opposition had done prior research in depth. Not being indulged in such fragile sentiments, the two shared a strong urge for ambitious prospects for their fruitful careers.

“What he is to me depends on what he has told you about that night. What do you know about Donnie?” She opened up the book on her and proceeded to flip through pages as if VechNos wasn’t flabbergasted by the new info.

“Who the heck is Donnie?” In her bewilderment, she almost forgot about maintaining a perfect decorum in these halls of the lady in front of her.

The name meant nothing.

It was a blank space, a ghost she had never been warned about.

“Hmm. That’s good to know. There you earned the right to this photo album.”

Within the split second, hands were on the leathery book of pictures with the Madam next to her.

“What—BUT HOW—” She watched the information land like a blow.

“Donnie is his PTSD trigger. Only four people know of it. On the good side, it took you and your friend off the suspect list. While on the bad side… it seems you and Jiseok aren’t nearly as close as I was led to believe.”

“Why did you approach him?” The woman asked before opening the photo album.

“Because… he is my bias.” A plain, straightforward answer for an indirect interrogation of hurdles hidden in sight.

“If the answer were that simple, I wouldn’t have wasted my breath on it,” the woman countered, her voice like dry ice.

“After the, quote massive drama, the group went onto indefinite hiatus for six months and barely gave out any updates on their situation to the public. Then, they finally made a comeback in August, charted for a while and got invited to a couple of variety shows, but as soon as the court hearing and the imprisonment of that member were announced… they were back at square one. No deals. No promo. Just radio silent until that dating show. Until you came along, young lady.”

The air crackled, not with the shared agenda, but with the thrill of a perfectly matched game setup.

“What are you trying to get at?” VechNos gulped down a bit, taking a few sips of the orange juice she got from the table. Cakes, biscuits, cookies, chocolates—the very sight of them made her nauseous. Instead, her hand found the only thing that felt safe: the glass of orange juice.

The only thing she could digest in that moment.

“I see no profit on your side from doing this. Either you’re a playgirl or there is something he has. A connection to that, something the public doesn’t know about.”

With a tormented throat, still existing as the drought kept on eating up her words at the tip of her tongue.

“The way you’re so defensive of your adopted son is quite evident on your face.”

Mrs. Garrison flinched momentarily before adjusting her specs.

“I, by no means, wish any harm to your son. But the matter I am so desperately and in a rush to get out of, Lane is my only link to the root problem. I understand your worries as his sole guardian, but believe me, I didn’t expect the pressure to be so much for him.”

Vid held up the photo album back to her, acknowledging the right she earned was not approved by Lane himself until he completely, if not partially, understood her blind trust and belief in him.

“You’re quite a surprise I’ve had in a while,” she patted down the seat next to her.

“If the photo album is not quite the fit for now, then maybe some promotions for the orphanage could resolve the situation about his character.”

“What? I thought you—” Vid, with a strong gust of a bull, was pulled down back to Mrs. Garrison’s side in an instant.

“Vid, do you eat just fine? These K-pop fans are doing their bias diet and all! Your arms have gotten a bit bony.” Mrs. Garrison said, her tone shifting to a cloying, maternal concern as she patted Vid’s arm.

“I am just fine, lady! Now what’s all this for a promo?” Vid yanked her arm back, skin crawling.

“Not much. You just have to play with the children and shoot some lines and be done with it.” In her hands, she planted a tablet of a whole script, or rather a screenplay of the whole plan in sight.

But in hindsight, something in the bleak was showing in the backs of their unfortunate passersby.

“I fainted again?” I furrowed my brows, hunching over for a spoonful of that bitter garlic soup with bits of meat floating here and there and everywhere.

“I know. It’s as frustrating as it gets.” A gentle, raspy voice answered.

“Even if you have fully recovered from the incident in the long run, it’s not a 100% clearance; you wouldn’t have any side effects from these medications. That’s how mental health works. Sometimes you are too good and—”

“-Sometimes you just want to get thrown over and crushed by a 100-pound pig.”

“Exactly!”

The kind gentleman who dabbed my mouth with a napkin was Jasper Garrisons.

A wobbly old dude with the classic bald patch and overgrown lawn of white forest across his cheeks.

After finishing up the warm soup, he put away all the utensils at the nearby table.

Making sure that stench doesn’t bother my slumber of 1000 plushies and cushions. All of them handpicked by the younger and growing versions of me. The attic was always mine and Do-shin’s during our trainee days. But, as soon as she got her dream apartment along with all the girls, she decided to move out.

By the way, their apartment is 50% covered by the company.

Totally not the favorites.

The clatter of the bowl settling on the tray was followed by a quiet, deliberate pause.

“I watched your show the other day.”

Oh, boy….

“Seems like you got your charms like your old man over here! Ha!”

“You look very joyful…” My throat became suspiciously dry after drinking gallons of homemade remedies.

With his single monocle, he daunted over me, shifting the movable headlamp over me.

“So,” he said, the light from his headlamp pinning me in place. “Who is this ‘VidNoise’? Your new girlfriend?”

I couldn’t help but burst my stomach for laughs over his failed imitation of being a bad cop.

Totally not suited for his sweet demure.

“What? Young man! I am not trying to make you laugh!” Even the interrogator failed to budge and surrender his seat. In his red flushed ears, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Her name is VechNos.” I managed to slurp out in the midst of my laughter.

The poor man struggled to open his phone; I gladly helped him unlock the passcode that I set up for him and showed him how to open the photo album app.

“My, my! Look at all those moments Pia took with my phone. That girl has been such a wild storm in our lives ever since…” I looked over at the redhead girl dozing off without a care in her eye mask and with a monkey plushie in Do-Shin’s bed.

The whole attic is divided into two divisions. The north part is mine, while the south part used to be Do-Shin’s; now it is currently inhabited by the Garrison’s granddaughter, Pia Alberta Garrison Parks.

Just like her grandparents, she is half Korean and half American. Now that the winter break started, she has come all the way over from her richie-rich Swiss school to indulge her antics elsewhere.

“She sleeps like a bear in hibernation. Don't fret over being loud. Because we will never be loud enough for her!” He, in pure satire, shook his head with great emphasis on the “never” and motioned his mouth on the loud.

Man, I loved this humor of his.
Really wished I could take it back with me in that hellhole. 
Please stay the same and stop that balding of yours.

“So, is it becoming too much to bear? You can always come back and be our bakery book.” His failure in winking sent me into a whirlpool of giggles, descending down onto the squeaky plushies and pillows.

“I am alright. And this is the path meant for me, so I have to endure it.”

“But, even so. One mustn’t be so mesmerized and drown in the depths of such art.”

Jasper said, his voice soft but firm in determination.

The determination I stubbornly learned from him.

“Either way, we shall have the toasty pancakes smothered in hot, molten chocolate cake drizzles and cookies—” I flinched.

“Huh. You must have gotten ticked off ever since that bakery date.”

I nodded, knowing he saw through the fabricated smile and background on the screen.

“How did you know?” I obviously asked the stupid question, the very same one I always asked each time I had these episodes. My mouth, without any reflex, had to ask that darn question: Am I that readable?

“Hmm, you know what my answer for that is? Caramel popcorn! Your favorites. I shall bring you right this instant.” He hopscotched over to the dumbwaiter, pushing all the utensils and dishes into it to be transported later into the dishwasher down in the kitchen. I leaned over the bedside stand and picked up my cracked phone along with my burner phone with no damages.

Huh, speak of the devil.

“Umm, Jasper? Is it alright for her to come to my attic?” I questioned the authority after my bedtime.

Time to lock in.

“Oooo! Calling a lady over to your room?”

“As a friend. I don’t even know her actual name. We still aren’t that close.”

“Hmm, alright. But I shall be in the room as well. Don’t worry, I shall give you enough privacy but not enough for you to hol—”

“Okay! I get it! Would you please show her the way?”

“Absolutely. As for your lady friend, please share some of your popcorn with her.”

“She doesn’t eat much in general. I hardly think she would eat junk. She totally hates it. She always advocates for salad and veggies all the time. You should like her by now.”

“Hmm, so you seem closer than strangers but more distant than friends…that doesn’t add up. What are you guys then?”

“Colleagues.”

“You know, I liked her the moment she stepped into the mist in the waters. Seems quite fitting how I met Loraine.”

“OH GOD! No please, not your love story for the trillionth time!”

“Alright. I shall go down and bring her over. Although, I think she and you are alike.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?”

“She seemed quite a fierce girl for her fit. Reminds me of you in a more.... female counterpart? The girl is going through something, though.” That ended his softened tone, twisting into ominous doctored waves that clashed down the atmosphere.

“Her BMI seems a bit low. And for Loraine to admit that she is weaker than her,” he let the sentence hang, a doctor pronouncing a silent diagnosis.

“She might have a serious condition. So, mind her surroundings out of consideration and thoughtfulness over her enduring strength.”

“Wait, how did Loraine figure out she is weaker than her? Isn’t she highly anemic because of that stupid cancer she had? How did you even find out her BMI?”

“Well, Loraine did. Just a couple minutes ago, she pulled her down for a promo for the orph—”

“SHE DID WHAT?”

“And that,” Jasper said, wisely backing toward the attic entrance, “marks my exit. I shall go and… escort your colleague.”

With that he glided down the ladders, his favorite thing to do in the whole wide world, it seems.