Defective Banana - Chapter 39

Miok trailed slowly behind Kang Seohyuk’s black sedan as it began to move.

The car crossed the city, sped down the main road for quite a while, then, at some point, turned onto a narrow side street. It climbed a hill and finally stopped in front of a quiet park playground near an upscale residential area.

A moment later, a woman got out of the car and waved. She walked up a left-hand alley and disappeared.

Seohyuk’s car, which had been idling for a moment, turned into a different alley on the opposite side and vanished completely.

Gripping the steering wheel and sitting frozen in place, Miok ground her teeth and muttered curses under her breath.

What the hell was that woman blackmailing him with, that he’d even bring her to his home and do… that? Why was he just letting it happen, like some idiot? The thought made her bl00d boil.

Should I just take her out myself? Maybe that’d make things easier for him.

Back at home, Miok texted Seohyuk first.

[Mr. Kang, something urgent came up. I’ll come by another day.]

She didn’t even bother turning on the lights before powering up her computer. Pulling up the saved footage from the Busan hotel parking lot, she started maliciously editing the video, cutting it short to make it look worse.

Once she had a clip that looked convincing enough, Miok anonymously sent it to an open group chat run by a well-known entertainment reporter.

[I’ve got a tip. A crazy sasaeng fan slapped actor Kang Seohyuk just because he wouldn’t take a photo with her.]

She uploaded it and left the chat without even waiting for a reply.

About an hour later, the article she’d been waiting for popped up on the main news feed — and the headline couldn’t have been more to her liking:

“‘How dare you refuse to take a photo?’ Crazy fan slaps movie star Kang Seohyuk”

“Oh my god! What is going on?”

“That woman’s insane!”

“Wow, he must’ve felt awful. Poor Seohyuk.”

Scrolling through the article and the comments, Miok finally relaxed the tension in her eyes. A faint, twisted smile spread across her lips.

***

Meanwhile, Ara had no idea the video was spreading online — she’d been completely absorbed in her painting. She only found out when Seohyuk called her in the middle of the night.

“Ara… have you seen the news about us?”

“Huh? About us?”

“A video from when we met in Busan got out. But… the footage is blurry, so no one can recognize you. Don’t worry too much.”

Ara immediately thought of the blackmailer.

So, she finally went and did it.

Her voice stayed surprisingly calm.

“Got it. You must be busy, so I’ll hang up now.”

“No, wait— Ara!”

She hung up, sat frozen in her studio for a moment, then untied her apron. There was no way she could keep working now.

She went to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and sat at the table, staring blankly like someone whose brain had been unplugged. Then another chat invite from the blackmailer popped up.

Ara entered immediately and fired back.

[You don’t deserve to like Kang Seohyuk. Do you realize he’s the one who’s hurting because of that video you posted, not me?]

The reply came quickly.

[Relax. This will actually get him sympathy points. You should’ve just backed off when I told you to. Now I’m going to crush you, bit by bit. It’ll be fun. Get ready.]

And just like that, the blackmailer left the chat.

Ara pulled out her phone and started browsing entertainment news. Sure enough, most outlets were running similar headlines about the hardship top star Kang Seohyuk had to endure — framing it like a textbook example of the struggles celebrities face.

In the comments under the video, people were siding with Seohyuk and painting her as the worst kind of obsessive fan. The blurry shot of her face had been captured, zoomed in, and shared for a collective witch hunt.

Donghee must’ve recognized me by now…

She curled up on the sofa, holding her breath. Then her phone vibrated with a short text.

[Ara, if you’re still awake, come over. We need to talk.]

Ara slumped back down, dragging her hands over her face with a long sigh.

“…So she really did recognize me.”

She texted back slowly.

[Okay. I’ll be right over.]

After slipping on a cardigan, she downed another glass of water to steady herself, then stepped into her slippers and walked, heavy-hearted, to the door across the hall. She rang the bell.

Usually, Donghee would answer through the intercom with a cheerful “Ara! Come on in!” But this time, she just buzzed the door open without a word.

Ara stepped inside. “Unnie, I’m here.”

“…Yeah, Ara.”

Following the voice to the living room sofa, Ara sat down cautiously beside her and studied her sister’s face — the tensed brows, the slow blinks. Exactly what she’d expected.

“You said you wanted to talk?”

“Ara… I just need to ask. Did you see the article about my son today?”

“Yes.”

Donghee’s expression grew heavier, her voice tighter.

“That woman in the video — was it you?”

Ara held her breath. She could pretend not to know, but she couldn’t lie to her sister’s face.

“Yes. It’s me.”

“What? That really was you?”

Donghee’s shoulders sagged as she stared at her in shock, then straightened again, voice rising.
“I saw the pink jacket in the clip and thought, No way…, but it really is you?”

“Yes, unnie.”

“They said in the article that the woman slapped him for refusing a photo. Is… that true?”

Ara’s mouth tasted bitter. If her sister learned she was dating Seohyuk, their relationship would shatter instantly.

How could she ever imagine her next-door little sister was sleeping with her son? The betrayal of them hiding it all this time would cut even deeper.

If it had been a normal relationship, maybe — maybe — she could’ve said, If you two like each other that much, fine, go ahead. But this wasn’t normal. This was a relationship where she had to slap him — how could she explain that?

If it happened again, and Donghee found out, the fallout would be even worse. And their relationship… and her relationship with Seohyuk… would both be over.

She didn’t want to force him to choose her over his own mother. They’d signed that secret contract for exactly this reason.

She didn’t want to lose either of them.

So Ara decided to keep her mouth shut. If she could just get past this moment, maybe things would calm down later.

“It’s not true, unnie. It’s a misunderstanding. I can’t give you details, but there were… unavoidable circumstances.”

Donghee swallowed hard, gripping Ara’s hand.

“What kind of ‘circumstances’ make you slap someone across the face? Tell me. Did Seohyuk do something crazy?”

“No! What I can say for sure is that I didn’t hit him because I hate him, or because he did something insane. Please just know that much.”

“Then what? You didn’t hit him because you like him, right? What the hell happened between you two?”

“I… can’t tell you.”

Ara’s firm reply made Donghee let go, letting out a hollow laugh.

“Ara… if you really cared about me, you wouldn’t have done that no matter the reason. I’m shocked you hit him — but I’m just as shocked you won’t tell me why. Unbelievable.”

“…I’m sorry, unnie.”

Donghee leaned back into the sofa, waving her hand.

“Enough. If you’re not going to tell me, just go. I’ve got a headache and want to be alone. We’ll talk later.”

With her turning away, Ara had nothing else to say. She shut her eyes for a moment, then stood.

“…I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

Heavy-footed, she went back home, collapsed onto her bed, and closed her eyes.

Maybe she should end things with him.

Her heart raced unevenly, and her head throbbed. She’d braced herself for the risks of dating a celebrity, but she hadn’t expected a crisis this soon.

A year… no, even longer — she’d wanted more time with him. There was still so much they hadn’t done together.

Her phone rang. It was Seohyuk. She didn’t answer.

What would she even say? Your mom knows. We have to break up?

No — she didn’t want to break up. She still wanted to be with him. But was it selfish to want that?

The endless ringing stopped, and a text came in.

[Ara, I’m really sorry. I’m getting the article taken down, so things will calm soon. I’ll come see you next week. Don’t worry.]

She could see him in her mind’s eye, doing everything he could to comfort her. She closed her eyes and stayed like that for a long time.

***

Meanwhile, Seohyuk was personally calling down a list of reporters, pouring on the charm.

“Please, take that article down. I’ll make sure you’re the first to know when I have good news. I’m begging you.”
“Reporter Cha, we still haven’t had that dinner yet, have we?”
“Your birthday’s in two days, right? How do I know? I have my ways. I sent you a gift — check it, you’ll know it’s from me.”

After wrapping up with several reporters, he called his manager too, instructing him to deal immediately with any new articles or videos that popped up.

The constant tension had worn him out. Slumping onto the sofa, he dialed Ara, thinking her clear, bright voice might revive him a bit.

Ring… ring… ring…
No answer.

Maybe she was asleep. He waited a while, then tried again — still nothing.

Exhaustion took over. Heading to the bedroom, he lay down, and it didn’t take long before he was out cold.