Chapter 2

"We're running late. Only five minutes!"

Someone entered the van and tapped the touch screen to turn on the air conditioning. A strong flow of cool air rushed out, filling the vehicle with a relaxing scent of lavender.

He didn't notice Clover.

Resting his hand on the steering wheel, he tuned the channel to one with good reception. Latest news, list of '90s songs made into the top 10, and product advertisements⁠⁠—none made him stop his fleshy fingers until a soothing instrumental melody reached his ears.

GZ Golden Music FM.

One of the few channels Clover enjoyed listening to when she was a kid, and when she still had a happy family.

Similar feels; similar background music. But nothing else remained.

Nostalgia washed over her soul; tears seeped in from the corners of her pearl-black eyes. The tip of her nose turned pink as she reminisced about the good times she once had...

Running to her dad innocently, she screamed at the top of her lungs, "Daddy, look! It's a rose!"

"Wow, that's beautiful!" He scooped her up in a move and put her on his neck. "Where did you get it, honeypie?"

Sweet giggles filled the lovely atmosphere. "Magicccc!!" she said. "I cast a spell, and then... and then this flower popped out!"

"Really?"

Obviously, it was a lie. But he put on an act to play along with his one and only daughter.

"Then make me a house!" he said.

"Don't wanna." She stuck out her tongue.

He plucked her down and swung her with his muscular arms. "Don't wanna?! Then I'm gonna eat you up. ROARRRR!!"

She bared her baby teeth and sank them into his hand.

"Ouch! Clover! That's not fair!"

Clover chuckled and dashed for escape as she watched her dad miss his step, falling to the muddy soil. 

All it took was the drops of her tears falling onto the PVC mat for the view in front of her to be transited back to the present, to the current dreadful situation. She thought growing up was fun and amazing.

However, it was just a thought that was never meant to come true.

Taking a deep, long breath, Clover brushed off the tears from her face. 'No time for this.'

The man was still in the van. The song was left playing on its own, and the front seat door was halfway open with his right-tattooed leg dangling in the air. While keeping an eye on him, she stretched her body, easing the cramps. She didn't want to be reflected in the rearview mirror.

"Oh, Goddd, Kyle. Can you be any slower?"

'Kyle?' she mused. 'Where did I hear the name again?'

With a loud thud, he jumped off the van and dashed toward the idol in the middle of the horde. Nobody was bothered to make way for him. Sucking in his slightly chubby belly, he went over and pulled Kyle away so fast that the gifts almost slipped to the ground.

The man furrowed his thick brows, his lips mumbling something that seemed to be nagging the idol for staying there for too long. But he was quick enough to force out a smile when he saw the fans were still following around.

All of a sudden, Clover snapped. The two figures were walking in her direction. She scanned the van. It did look like a property belonged to someone of higher status. But it had never occurred to her that the van would be a celebrity's. 

"Can you do something right for once, Clover Hon?"

While she was scrambling to get the stained coat for a quick escape, her face twitched in pain as she accidentally hit the headliner. Her cuffed hands were hindering her movement. She didn't want to be arrested for breaking into other people's vehicles, nor did she want to be caught by the men in black. She was in a blue funk. The moment she reached out to push open the door, Kyle was already standing outside, waving goodbye to his fans. Clover slid to the other side.

The men were still there—where and when did they reappear?

Tension was spiking. Her eyes widened in shock, watching the target door slide open.

Before she could even realize it, she was back in the trunk.

"So tired..." Kyle said as he stepped in. 

He took off his sunglasses and pulled down the black mask, resting his head against the headrest.

"You could've just gotten in without greeting them."

"I thought they didn't know that I'm coming back today. Someone must've spilled it out. Anyway, they've waited long hours just to see me, Brandon. It was natural to stop for a short greeting." He lifted the box beside him. "What's this?"

"Fan letters."

'I'm so dead,' she muttered inwardly.  

Clover bit her lip and dug her fingernails into her palms, forcing herself to stay awake despite the stinging pain. Blood was leaking. The cuts around her wrists had gotten deeper, and a trace of metallic smell drifted along with the lavender scent. In fact, it was noticeable if one paid enough attention to it.

"Kyle, can you get my backpack in the trunk?”

'Trunk?!' She jerked.

"Sure." He extended his hand to the back. "Where?"

Clover hugged her knees close to her chest, trying her best to dodge his touch. She quickly grabbed her coat over before it attracted any attention.

Anything bloody was very easy to cause unnecessary heed. Holding onto the slightest hope, she thought she would not get busted and that she would be able to get out like a talented secret agent.

But everything came crashing down the next moment.

"It's at the left end."

'Left end?!'

Clover looked around nervously. She was on the left and also at the end. There weren't any bags near her! Kyle stretched his hand further to the back and rummaged through the air. She kept pushing herself backward even though she had reached the limit. He must have felt her rapid breaths on his palm, because that was when he turned around all of a sudden. 

His eyes were filled with fright and impossibility.

"B... Brandon. Who's she?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled, steering to the left. "Who's... who?"

"Who are you? How... how did you get here?" Kyle tried to maintain his coolness, but his quavering voice sold him out.

He ran his hands along both sides of the doors, checking if the locks were switched or damaged.

"Just... how the heck did you get in here? Are you some kind of stalker? Or... my hardcore fan?"

"What are you talk—" Brandon wasn't sure what Kyle was talking about until her voice came through.

Clover got down on her knees. "Please don't call the police," she pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

That freaked Brandon out. "WHAT?!" He braked the van at once. 

The entire vehicle jerked. Kyle lost his balance and fell onto Clover. Her stained coat was pushed away; her cuffs were revealed. 

His legs were stuck in between hers, and his hand was behind her head, securing it from any great impact. None of them moved for the first few seconds, which only added more fuel to the flaming fire in Brandon.

"Get off her, KYLE!" Brandon screamed from the front. Too many drivers were honking at the back. He had to continue driving. "I'm gonna call the police," he said furiously, groping for his phone in the compartment beside the gear.

"No! Please... Kyle," Clover cried, pulling herself out of his wrap. "J-Just drop me off somewhere, and I... I'll get out of your sight! Promise!"

He stared at her skinny, bloody hands for a while before asking his next question, "What happened?"

To her surprise, the coldness in his voice was gone. This time, there was a slight warmth at the edge of his tone. And it was growing.

She heard him, but she was hesitant to speak.

"DON'T BOTHER. KYLE!" his manager shouted. "F***!"

"Come on. Tell me, or I might really need to hand you over to the police," he said, dusting off the van mat to sit in front of her.

With her lips trembling, she shook her head. That was all she did. No answers.

Kyle heaved a heavy sigh. He plucked the paper clip stuck in between the PVC yarns and twisted it a few times before reaching out to her cuffs. 

"I've seen people doing this on TV. I'm sure it's not that difficult." He chuckled. 

"What the hell are you trying to do, Kyle?" Brandon frowned. "You're gonna be so dead if the paparazzi see this."

"We're in a van," he snapped. "With tinted windows."

"S... Slave," she whispered.

"Sorry?" Kyle drew his face closer to her. 

"I... I was captured here as a sex slave." Fixing her eyes on the storage bag tied to the driver's seat, she added, "I needed to run away, Kyle. That was why I sneaked in here without thinking. I didn't know whose van this was. All I wanted was to escape." 

The van fell into silence. The clip slipped from his hold, but Kyle quickly caught it with his hand. Without asking for any further explanations, he continued dealing with the locks. Even the hot-tempered Brandon had zipped his mouth at this moment. Clover spared a glance at the rearview mirror to see his reaction.

He was frowning, revealing several deep wrinkles on his forehead. Indeed, as the manager of a rising superstar, he shouldn't let his guard down by simply believing any stories without valid proof.

After all, if it was nothing related to them, they shouldn't be asking for any trouble.

"I'm sorry."

Clover heard her cuffs click. Kyle was carefully removing them away from her, so as not to add any pressure to her wounds. 

"I'm... sorry," he repeated.

"Don't be," she said pathetically, staring at the bruises and fresh cuts on her wrists. "What are you sorry for?"

"For—"

"If you really feel sorry for me..." she interrupted. "Please, Kyle. Don't send me to the police. They won't help me. The fact that I didn't go through any immigration checking is the perfect example to explain this. They're corrupted."

She dropped her gaze, twiddling the baby strips at the sides of her torn black pants. But when Kyle said nothing to assure her safety, the effort she put in to hold back her tears came crumbling down, pushing through the wall she built.

"I'm not lying." She choked on her voice.

"I never said you're lying."

"As much as I don't like it, trouble has already started," Brandon muttered.

He floored the accelerator pedal and took a steep right turn at the T-junction. Veins in his arms bulged as he moved his eyes from the rearview mirror to the wing mirror every three seconds. Another sharp turn. The van screeched and collided with the concrete road barrier. He showed no decrease in speed despite driving down the narrow, isolated route.

Kyle grasped the grab handle to stop himself from hitting every corner.

"What's wrong?"

Brandon sped up again. "I think we're being tracked."

"Tracked?" Clover blurted, turning her head to the back.

"Yea. Thanks to you I supposed." Brandon tried to sound annoyed, but his energy to do so was all shifted to his driving.

She glued her sight on those cars, and when their faces hove into view, her legs turned to jelly unconsciously. 

"How... is this even possible?" She collapsed to the floorboard.