Season's Greetings : Christmas Box Set

by Shyla Colt

  The pillow mass slams into my head and my face. I close my eyes and guess where Karen is. Ducking my shoulders slightly, I aim for her core: side, stomach, and head. I swing with all my might. She lands a hit to the side of my head, and I slide to the side and flex my thighs, retaliating with another round of blows. I watch as Karen topples and falls to the side. She hits the mat, and a buzzer sounds. I unlock my aching legs and let myself slide to the side after her.

  “Hart has won!” The audience cheers, and I rise to my feet. Minji walks over and holds my arm up. “The winner!”

  I grin graciously.

  “We’re down to two! Will Hart win it all for her sister, or will Superfan Samantha fulfill her ultimate dream? Tune in after the commercial break to find out.”

  “And cut. Time to retouch make-up and set up for the final round,” the director calls.

  Cameramen shift, and I’m steered off stage, mostly to blot down the shine from the lights and reapply concealer and a fresh coat of powder. I bow my head silently, praying as I sit in the green room while Samantha has her turn to be touched up. I didn’t come all this way to let my family and my town down. I don’t want Fiona to watch me lose on national television. Nerves hit hard, and I shift in my seat.

  All too soon, we’re being lead back on stage.

  “This is a classic game. The silver box.” Minji gestures toward the man in the black pants, white suit, and tie who walks over holding a silver box. I remember watching this game. “The object is to discover what’s in the box the fastest. Now you can only use your eyes for this one, ladies. Are you ready?”

  “Yes!” we both cry.

  Samantha looks at me with a fierce light of competitive spirit in her eyes. A smug smirk gives me pause. What does she know that I don’t?

  “On three. Count it down with me, everyone. One, two, three!” A buzzer sounds, and the man sets down the silver box. He lifts the handle up slightly. I duck down, desperate to catch a glimpse of the item. I see a sliver of green before he closes it.

  “Bell pepper,” I cry.

  “Watermelon,” Samantha responds.

  The man returns to his position once more. Crawling on the floor like an inchworm, I try to keep up with his evasive maneuvers as he lifts the lid and slams it down quickly again.

  “Avocado!” Samantha yells.

  Ding. The core board across the room gains a one.

  “You’re right!” Minji yells.

  My stomach tenses. I should’ve guessed that.

  “There are two more boxes left. Hart, you must win the next one to have a chance of winning,” Minji says.

  I nod, determined.

  The man returns with a different box. His back faces us. The countdown begins, and on three, he spins, showing a clear box with vertical strips of metal. Turning it around, he tricks our eyes. I catch a hint of orange.

  “Orange!” I yell.

  “Yes!” Minji cheers as I gain a point with a loud ding. “We have a tie.”

  The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. I shake my hands out. I got this.

  The man returns with a box that resembles the original. The countdown is white noise in the background. The minute, “Go!” is called, I’m on the ground, belly first. Focused on that sliver.

  “Jeju Citrus!” Samantha yells.

  A ding sounds, and my eyes fill with tears. How could she know that? The door had barely lifted. A burst of applause and murmurs sweep through the audience like a wave. I stand up and force a smile, congratulating Samantha as I shake her hand.

  She hugs me. “Did you really think Sang would let you ruin his client? You’ll be nothing more than a memory of America soon.”

  My jaw drops, and I move back, stunned.

  Screams erupt, and I glance over to see Jiwoo kissing him on the cheek. In their culture, that’s the equivalent of playing tonsil hockey. I was stupid to think a man like him would be interested in me with my messy life. Stepping back, I stumble off the stage, managing to make it into the back hallway before my tears begin to fall. Swiping at my eyes, I leave the studio and make the short walk to the hotel. I shove on glasses to hide my pain as I enter and take the stairs up to my floor to avoid people. I unlock the door with trembling hands.

  The worst part about everything is the fact that I can’t say I didn’t win. Burying my face in my hands, I sob as I rock back and forth. To come so close and lose it because the game was rigged sickens me. There’s no one I could tell who would believe me. I can’t stay here, but I can’t leave yet. We have to stay the full week in case they need to do reshoots. I lost everything in less than ten minutes. Knock. Knock. I ignore it. I’m in no shape to talk to anyone.

  “Hart.” Yoon’s voice makes me snarl.

  “Go away. You’ve done enough,” I bark.

  “It’s not what it looked like,” he pleads.

  “Oh yeah? Tell it to someone else who didn’t watch it go down right in front of them. Were you laughing at me this entire week? Was it a game?” My voice cracks.

  “No. I have no interest in JiWoo.”

  I sneer. “That makes you even worse. Don’t make me call security.”

  “Hartley, open the door right now, so we can talk.” His voice is deep and edgy. I’ve never heard him like this before.

  “I don’t want to talk to you.” My voice trembles. Suddenly, it’s all too much, and I break. Sliding down onto the floor, I bow my head. “Please, if you cared anything about me at all. Just go.”

  He pounds against the door one last time. “I’ll go for now.”

  Tomorrow I’ll pick myself up off the ground, piece myself together, and walk with my head held high. Tonight, I need to mourn for what might’ve been.

  I SLAY MY FACE TO THE gods, put on the pair of jeans that make my ass look fabulous, and wear a frilly, pink crop top. Slipping my feet into nude heels, I make my way down to breakfast with my head held high. Others who lost before me come over.

  “I really hoped you would be the one to win it all.”

  “Thank you. I gave it my best shot.” I smile and pretend my heart isn’t aching.

  “You had a great run.” Brian, one of the only male competitors, steps up beside me. He’s gorgeous with pale green eyes that remind me of spring and russet hair, but he’s not Yoon.

  “Thank you. I like to think I went down swinging.”

  “You look terrific this morning.”

  “Thanks, Brian.” I grab my plate and move away to fill it up with pancakes.

  “Since we have a few days to kill here, maybe we can go out and find something to get into.”

  “She’s busy,” an accented voice interrupts us.

  Stunned, I look up and find Yoon.

  “Hey, m-man. I was j-just trying to m-make conversation,” Brian stutters.

  “Make it elsewhere,” Yoon suggests.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Protecting my girlfriend.”

  “I am not your ...” I glance around and lower my voice, “girlfriend.”

  “The hell you aren’t,” he growls.

  His anger is attractive. Stop. “Why are you pretending to care?”

  He opens his mouth, and his manager appears.

  “Yoon.” His voice holds a warning. “Be aware of your surroundings.”

  “I’ll take this to go.” The last thing I need is to be caught up in Yoon and Sang’s argument. I hurry off with my plate, retreating to my room. I don’t want to be anywhere near either of them. Sang grabs his arm, leading him from the dining area.

  My face infuses with heat as everyone stares. I shrug my shoulders and laugh. “Superstars and their temperaments, huh?”

  Samantha strolls in, looking like a queen in a turquoise sundress with a white crinoline peeking out slightly from beneath and matching espadrilles. Her hair falls around her heart-shaped face in loose, black spirals. The crowd parts as she sashays her way toward me.

  “I see you’re still causing trouble. You don’t know wh
en to stay in your place, do you?”

  “Excuse me?” I tilt my head, ready to squash her like a bug as I square my shoulders.

  “What could you possibly give Yoon? You’re a nobody.” She spits the words out like they taste bad.

  “And you aren’t?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

  “I wouldn’t think for a moment I was worthy of someone like him. He needs to be with a fellow idol.” The zeal in her eyes is frightening.

  “You know what they say, opinions are like assholes. Everyone’s got one.” I move to step around her.

  Stepping quickly, she blocks me. “I will not let you ruin him.”

  “You’ve already won. There’s nothing else left to do.”

  “One last thing,” she whispers.

  Pain explodes in my stomach. My plate drops from my hand, shattering as I sway. I look down and see red beginning to spread over my abdomen. I press my hands tightly against my stomach. A sticky, hot liquid coats them, shocking me as I move back. Samantha is rushed by a bunch of people. A knife falls and skitters across the floor. She’s thrown to the ground, and someone kneels on her back.

  Oh my God, I think I’ve been stabbed.

  Strong hands help me lower to the floor.

  “I’m a nurse.” A tow-haired man kneels beside me. “We need to put pressure onto the wound. Get me a clean napkin,” a man barks.

  I blink, befuddled, as my head spins.

  “Try to breathe in and out. You’re going into shock,” the man says. He places a white napkin against me, and I cry out as pain lances through my body.

  “An ambulance is on its way. Just relax and focus on me.”

  I blink, struggling to remain cognizant. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “I’m Mark.”

  “Thank you, Mark.”

  “Thank me by staying awake and focusing on my voice.” He begins to tell me a local legend. I zone into his story to escape the pain, but the world continues to get fuzzy around the edges.

  YOON

  Screaming erupts from the dining room. I spin away from Sang and stride forward.

  “Why are you heading back toward danger?” Sang calls.

  “Hart is in there.”

  “Who cares?”

  I stop and stare at the man I no longer respect or trust after his latest stung. “I do. And you’re fired.”

  “What?”

  Ignoring his screams, I break into a run. The room is blocked off. My heart leaps up into my throat.

  “I’m sorry, sir, you can’t go in there. We have an ambulance on the way to assist an injured guest.”

  “My girlfriend is in there.”

  “You’ll have to wait until it clears.”

  Sirens wail outside, and I step back with the other onlookers. I have a bad feeling growing in my gut as I pace back and forth. The emergency services workers come through with a gurney. Minutes tick by like hours before the door opens and reveals my worst nightmare—Hart strapped to the gurney, pale and wane with hands covered in red.

  “Hart.”

  “Sir, please let us do our job,” one of the workers says.

  Hart blinks up at me groggily. “Yoon?’

  “Yes, baby. I’m here.” I look at the man trying to brush me aside. “This is the woman I love. I’m going with you.”

  “We don’t have time to argue. Let him ride with us. Sir, follow us. Stay out of the way in the ambulance.”

  I jog behind him, fuming. How dare someone hurt her? Inside, I grab her hand once they have her hooked to an IV with the bleeding stopped.

  “What happened?” I whisper.

  “Samantha.”

  “What?”

  “She said she wouldn’t let me ruin your career.”

  “Fuck her and Sang. I fired him.”

  “What?” Her eyes widen.

  “He’s out of my life for good. I’ll testify that he told me he bribed Samantha. I’m not saying he gave her the order, but I put nothing past him at this point.” God, this is all my damn fault. Maybe she’s the one who’s better off without me.

  They bustle her out of the ambulance, and I follow them for as far as I can.

  Is she going to be okay? What will I do if she’s not? If we stay together, can this happen again? The thoughts race around in my head. I move outside to get fresh air. Running a hand through my hair, I close my eyes and try to calm down.

  Snap. Snap. Cameras begin to go off all around me.

  “Yoon. Tell us what you’re doing here in the hospital. Were you involved in the altercation? Did you know Samantha Ho was unstable?”

  “We heard you’ve parted ways with Sang over the victim.”

  Bombarded, I blink up at them, lost. I panic for a split second, and my training kicks in. “The whole situation is unfortunate. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be returning inside. Statements will be released later.”

  I hurry back inside, grateful that hospitals are like a safe space outside of public areas. Her name and the event will be splattered all over the media. Her family needs to be kept up to date. I look down at the purse I’m holding. I should call.

  “Sissy, did you win?” Fiona asks as she answers my call.

  “Hello? Fiona?”

  “Oh my God. Is this Yoon Kim?” Her voice is giddy.

  “Yes. I’m sorry to tell you this, but your sister has been in an accident. She’s having an operation now, and I want to fly you out to be with her.”

  “What?” she wails.

  Rustling noises fill my ear.

  “Hello? This is Hart’s best friend, Ava. I’m in charge of her sister while she’s away. Did I hear you say there’s been an accident?”

  “Yes,” I reply, “and I wanted you to hear it from me, not from online or one of the members of the press who may be trying to get into contact with you. There was an altercation with the winner of the show, and she was stabbed.”

  “What?” she squawks. “Is she okay?”

  “I’m here now waiting to hear the news,” I explain, running my fingers through my hair and tugging to ground me.

  “Where are you?” Ava asks.

  “I’ll arrange tickets for both of you as soon as possible,” I tell her.

  “Why?”

  “Because we’ve been seeing each other for weeks now, and if I have my way, we’ll never stop.”

  “Ho-ly shit. Alright. I’m processing all this. Tell us when and where and we’ll be there.”

  “I will make the arrangements now and contact you.”

  I busy myself hunting down flights, charging tickets, hotel rooms, and sending texts.

  A doctor comes out. “I’m looking for the significant other of Hartley Warren.”

  “That’s me.” I hop up.

  “She’s resting now. We’ve stitched her up inside and out and given her a heavy sedative to allow her to rest.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Yes. As long as you don’t disturb her rest.” I mime the locking of my lips with a key. We wind down a hallway and step into a private room.

  “When we realized who you were and that this incident would be part of an ongoing investigation, we decided to keep her separate from the general population.”

  We step inside, and I approach her slowly. She looks so small beneath the white sheet and pale blue blanket. Seeing her so still is terrifying. I sink down and hold her hand in mind. It’s slightly cool to the touch.

  “Why is she so cold?” I whisper.

  “The blood loss. We gave her a transfusion, but it’ll take time for her body to heal and function the way it normally does.”

  I nod and bring her hand to my lips. I should’ve been there with her. If I hadn’t left, all this might be different.

  “I’ll leave you here for now.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “Yoon?”

  A raspy voice pulls me from sleep. I blink up and find myself peering into bloodshot, brown eyes.

  “Hartley.” Instantly awake,
I sit up and groan as my back protests the awkward position I fell asleep in.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m where I should be. Your sister and Ava are on their way.”

  “How?”

  “I arranged for everything. They’ll have a room at our hotel for as long as they need while you recover. I am so sorry this happened to you. I never should have walked away.” I shake my head, berating myself. “It's my job to keep you safe, not place you in danger.” I bend down to kiss her forehead. “I am falling in love with you, Hartley. You hold a special place in my heart that grows bigger every day, and I don’t want it to ever stop. I’ll set anyone straight who becomes confused about where my loyalty lies. I’m yours if you’ll still have me.”

  Her eyes water. “Are you in pain? Should I get a nurse or a doctor?” I move to stand, and she giggles and moans.

  “Oh, God, don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much. I’m not in pain. I’m equally in a state of falling.”

  “You believe me?” I whisper.

  “Yes. I won’t let Sang win.”

  “Good, because I called you my girlfriend in public, and I’m sure it’s slathered all over the web by now.”

  She smiles.

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Getting stabbed gives a girl a new perspective on what’s important and what’s not.”

  “Don’t joke about that,” I scold her.

  “I was serious.”

  “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again, Hart.”

  “You can’t promise that,” she protests.

  “I can, and I will. Starting with your dad. I’m paying off the debts, and we’re getting him help.” I rub her cool hand between my own, trying to warm it up.

  Her lower lip trembles. “You can’t.”

  “Everyone needs a little help at some point. Please let me do this for not only you but Fiona.”

  She lowers her gaze. “Dirty move.”

  “Smart move,” Ava whispers.

  “You’re here,” Hart whispers.

  “And I brought a friend.” Ava waves, and Fiona appears in the hall beside her.

  “When I said I wanted Yoon for Christmas, sis, I didn’t want him this bad.” Fiona’s eyes water, and Hart holds out her arms. Her sister rushes to her, slowing to hug her gingerly. “Please don’t scare us like that again.”