I just caught a glimpse of Ellie’s blonde ponytail swinging through the gate as she walked onto the plane. I’m sitting in seat up in first class, knowing that she’s only a few rows behind me. I could get up and walk over to her. I could talk to her again, see her again, make her laugh again. But I don’t. Just like that day ten years ago, I stay right where I am and I keep my mouth shut. I stay glued to my seat. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to embarrass her, maybe it’s me not wanting to make a scene on the plane. Or maybe, it’s because she made it very clear that she’s over me, that I ruined any chance I ever had with her when I made a fool of her in high school. Maybe I’m staying in my seat because I know it’s over. When her front door closed on me it was like a piece of my heart closed off forever. Maybe I’m a coward. There’s way too much time for introspection on airplanes. Being confined to a seat, stuck with a hundred or so other people with nothing except a book or a little screen to distract us. I can’t get up. I know it’s my own pride. I can’t get up and go talk to her, to do what? Beg her to be with me? Try to convince her that I’ve changed, that I’m worthy of her? I walk around like I’m some big shot but all I do is sing for people. And they love me! I’m rich and successful because I happened to be good at singing and I was lucky. It’s not fair, really. She’s going off to do real investigative work. She’s putting herself in danger just to do something good for the world, to potentially expose a threat to our country. And me? I surround myself with people who worship me and I play silly songs for them. Why would she ever want to be with me. How could I ever deserve her? The thoughts are flying around my head so fast I can hardly make any sense of it. I’m not used to feeling like this. Feeling… inadequate. Usually I’m the centre of attention, the one that people yell for, the one people just want to touch or get a picture with. And now… now I don’t know what I am. I’m the guy who messed up with the only girl he really cared about. Maybe it’s for the best. I’ll just make it through this flight and try to ignore the fact that she’s so close to me. I’ll get off the plane and go back to my mansion in Beverly Hills and get back to the recording studio. I’ll go out at night and have beautiful women throwing themselves at me. I’ll go on living my vapid, empty life knowing full well that I’ve lost the only thing I ever really cared about. I close my eyes and try to ignore the tightness in my chest when I think about what will happen when we get off the plane and go our separate ways. The plane hits a patch of turbulence and I’m torn away from my thoughts. I grip the armrests of my seat and take a deep breath. No matter how many flights I take, I never get used to this feeling. I close my eyes and take another breath. Ellie’s face flashes into my head. I think of the way she looked in the moonlight when I walked her home. The way her eyes glimmered right before she turned away from me makes my whole body feel electric. My cock jumps in my pants when I think about the way her shirt was clinging to her body, or the way her jeans perfectly cupped her perky ass. I sigh. She’s the smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and she’s out of my reach. She always has been. It’s better for me if I just forget about her. I need to let her go, and move on with my life. The thought crosses my mind and as if by magic, the turbulence stops. Maybe it’s a sign, I think. I don’t believe in that kind of stuff but I’ll take whatever I can get right now. I should just forget about Ellie Walters and focus on the fact that I’m the biggest rock star this country has seen in decades. I can get whatever I want, do whatever I want, live exactly how I want to. I don’t need my high school sweetheart to approve of me, or to accept me. It’s in the past and it’s time for me to just move on. I take another deep breath and flick through the screen in front of me. I settle on an action-packed movie and settle in to my plush first-class seat. At least I’ve got comforts like these, and I’m not still stuck in Greenville. Life could be a lot worse. I could be going to North Korea instead of my own mansion! I smile to myself, but my smile fades quickly. I brush the thought away as soon as I think it, but a small part of me knows it wouldn’t matter where Ellie was going, I’d want to be there with her. Chapter 8 – Ellie
The plane lands smoothly and I wait in my seat for the doors to open and for people to start filing off. I’m hoping Derek will be long gone by the time I get off the plane. Finally my row starts disembarking and I grab my carry-on bag from the overhead compartment. I walk off the plane and follow the signs to the baggage claim. My heart is beating in excitement. Mike said he’d meet me here. We’ll go to his office to finish off some last minute planning and then head straight back to the airport for an overnight flight to Beijing. I follow the crowd of people down an escalator and out some sliding glass doors into the arrivals area. I look for the right carousel and make my way over. “You made it!” Mike exclaims behind me. I turn to face him and smile. He extends a hand and I shake it. “The flight was pretty smooth. A bit of turbulence but nothing too hectic.” Mike smiles at me. He’s a bit older, in his mid forties. His brown hair is streaked with grey, and he keeps a short beard on his face. He’s got a friendly, fatherly air to him. Mike’s got years and years of experience as an investigative journalist, and now as an editor. He’s helped me grow as a writer and journalist since I met him five years ago. “You excited?” “Mike, I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe we’re doing this!” He lets out a big belly laugh, throwing his head back. “It’s great, isn’t it! We’ll be able to say we’ve met the Supreme Leader. As long as we make it out alive, that is.” I grin, and turn back towards the carousel. It’s started moving and people are starting to crowd around to look for their bag. My eyes are glued on the moving conveyor when I hear a throat being cleared beside me. “Ellie…” I turn and there he is. Derek Hart. Again. Why does he have to be so handsome? Even in the fluorescent lighting of the airport it’s like he radiates sex appeal. His plain black t-shirt looks like it was made for him, with his chest and shoulders straining slightly against the fabric. Instinctively, I wonder what it would feel like to have my face buried in his chest and his strong, muscular arms wrapped around me. My voice catches in my throat and I catch myself staring at him with my mouth open. I close my mouth and swallow. “Hi, Derek,” I say softly. He’s shifting his weight from foot to foot. He wipes his hands on his jeans and then flicks his eyes back up towards me. “Ellie, I just wanted to say,” he pauses, looks away and takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to say be careful. I’d hate it if anything happened to you.” I can’t help but smile. Maybe he has turned a corner and isn’t the stupid teenager he once was. “Thanks Derek, I appreciate it.” I can sense Mike move beside me. I glance over and he’s staring at Derek, wide-eyed. “This is Mike, my editor and travel companion.” The two men nod at each other and shake hands. “You ever been over there, Mike?” Derek asks. His eyes are probing into Mike’s, searching. “No, first time. We’re meeting with a Chinese guide who’s an old friend of mine in Beijing. He’ll accompany us over to North Korea. I uh…” Mike pauses, glancing between the two of us. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other?” You didn’t know I knew Derek Hart, you mean. “Eleanor and I grew up together,” Derek responds before I can talk. I shoot a glare at him and now it’s his turn to grin. I wish I didn’t love the way he says my name. “Alright, thanks for the well wishes, Derek. Here’s my bag,” I say with relief as my bag appears on the carousel. “We’d better get going.” I walk over to the carousel and suddenly Derek is beside me. I can feel the heat of his body as his shoulder brushes mine. He leans forward and grabs onto my suitcase with one hand, brushing my fingers where they’d grabbed onto the handle. An electric thrill runs through my body from my arm all the way down to my core. I can feel my wetness gathering between my legs even with that simple touch. I want to feel his touch again, but I take a step back as Derek lifts the suitcase effortlessly onto the ground. He pulls out the handle and turns it towards me. I try not to stare at his bulging biceps as a heat blossoms inside me. “Thanks,” I stammer, grabbing the handle. “I, u
m… I’ll see you around,” I say lamely. Derek smiles and nods. “See you around.” He runs his fingers through his hair and I see that strip of skin between his t-shirt and his pants again. I try not to stare. He lifts a corner of his mouth in a shy smile, and then turns on his heels and walks towards the exit. Mike steps forward and is beside me. “You didn’t tell me you grew up with Derek Hart,” he says quietly. I glance over at him and shrug. “You never asked.” Chapter 9 – Ellie
The next few days are a blur. We’re on and off planes, meeting guides, getting instructions on how to act when we get to Pyongyang. There’s an underlying buzz to everything whenever we mention North Korea. A nervousness. People will glance at us again more intently when they find out where we’re going. I can almost sense their question, no matter who they are or what language they speak: “What’s a girl like you going to a place like that for?”. Be careful, everyone tells us. I take my seat on our final flight to Pyongyang. In just two short hours, we’ll be landing in the most isolated nation in the world. I’ll be going where few tourists have gone before and I’m tasked with a mission that even fewer people would accept to do. Mike is beside me on the plane, but apart from that everyone is Chinese or Korean. It’s quiet, orderly, subdued on the plane. There aren’t even any babies crying. Everyone seems to be staring straight ahead at the old plane seats in front of them. A few hushed whispers are exchanged out of necessity, but for the most part the air is heavy and quiet. I glance around quickly and then settle into my seat and stare straight ahead. With my long blonde hair and pale skin I’ll never blend in, but at least I can look unassuming and unthreatening. I’m doing it for my country. The threat of North Korean nuclear missiles has been hanging over our heads for years, and with the recent increased tensions it seems even more relevant. Maybe this should be a job for the military, or a spy of some sort (do those even exist?) but in a way I’m glad it’s me. The media has a responsibility to the public, and this might be my legacy for years to come. The danger ignites a fire in my core. I feel alive for the first time in months, maybe years. If Mike and I are able to gather any useful information and break a big story, it might literally make history in our lifetime.
We need to try to find out whether or not the North Koreans have nuclear weapons, and if they are planning on using them. To do it, our Chinese guide will put us in touch with a Korean undercover rebel who will give us access to restricted areas. We don’t even know the Korean guide’s name yet, let alone where he will take us. This takes a level of trust in complete strangers that I have never had to have before. Strangers that will take me to places I’ve never been, where my life will potentially be in danger. We have six days in North Korea. Six days to find out as much information as possible, while pretending to be doing a profile of Kim Jong-un. Our itinerary is packed, and we will be accompanied by two Korean guides at all times. There’s only a one hour window on Day 3 where we will be able to access the restricted areas, but as yet no one has told us any details.
The uncertainty of the plan worries me, especially since we’re in another country with a language I don’t understand. Still, I’m excited. These things don’t happen to people from Greenville – to people who were supposed to get married to Chad Baker and have a white picket fence with a gaggle of kids. It’s happening to me though. Or rather – I’m making it happen. Mike glances over at me on the plane. “Nervous?” he whispers. I grin at him. “Terrified.” His warm, fatherly smile splits over his face and I feel slightly more comfortable. The plane starts moving and I take a deep breath. We’re on our way. The flight is uneventful, but I still feel a deep sense of excitement and nervousness. It seems longer than the flight that took us across the pacific, longer than the hours waiting for our visa in Beijing, longer than the weeks and months that I’ve spent preparing for this. Finally, the plane descends and I feel the thud as the landing gear hits the North Korean ground. My heart skips a beat. I’m here. Suddenly, Derek Hart’s face pops into my head. I think of the way he looked at me when he handed me my suitcase. His eyes were burning, the heat was radiating off his skin and I could feel myself get weak in the knees. I can’t help but wish it was him beside me instead of Mike. I shake my head. Now is not the time for these thoughts. It’s time for the most important six days of my life.
Chapter 10 – Derek
The stage hand grabs my guitar from me and hands me a towel. I wipe my brow off and listen to the wild cheering going on behind me. “You killed it out there Derek!” I look over at my manager and nod. I don’t respond, instead I turn towards the dressing room and close the door behind me. I sigh and slump into the low leather couch that’s pushed against the far wall. Everything seems so pointless. I’m going through the motions, singing the same songs and making the same jokes on stage and then I come off stage and wonder why I’m doing this. The rest of the band have noticed as well, I’m sure of it. I lean back on the couch and close my eyes. A few moments later the door opens and my drummer walks in. He closes the door behind him and stands directly in front of me, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are locked on me. “Derek, what’s up with you?” he asks. He’s always been a no bullshit type of guy. I open my eyes and look at him. He’s thin, with a wiry frame and his hair pulled back into a high bun. Or, a high man-bun I should say. “What do you mean, Jake?” I know what he means. “I mean, ever since you got back from your mom’s birthday you’ve been sulking all over the place. We haven’t written any new music in three weeks! You were flat tonight.” “We’ve just finished a huge tour, man, give me a break.” “We finished the tour a month ago. It’s never taken you this long to bounce back.” I sit up and put my head in my hands, not wanting to meet his gaze. He’s right. I’ve been avoiding the band and avoiding what always brought me joy: writing music. “Look man, all I’m saying is you can tell me about whatever’s bothering you. And if you don’t want to tell me about it then just write it.” He turns towards the fridge and pulls out two cold cans of beer, walking across the room to hand me one. I take it from him and nod in thanks, and then watch him sit down in the chair across from me. He concentrates on his beer and I can’t help but grin. He’s been my best friend for years and he knows me inside and out. He’s purposefully being quiet and unassuming in the hope that I’ll talk to him. And it’s working. I take a deep breath. “Do you remember that girl I told you about? The one that it never worked out with? In… In high school?” It feels almost silly to say it. Jake’s eyes flash up towards me but he keeps his voice casual. “Yeah, what about her?” He looks back at his can of beer but I know he’s waiting for me to talk. “I saw her again. Fuck, Jake, she looks good.” I glance up and Jake is looking at me as he sips his drink. His eyes are bright and focused on me, trying to read my expression. He takes a long drink and then sets his beer down on his knee, leaning back in the chair. “You saw her,” he repeats slowly. “Yeah. Nothing happened! I mean, you know. We talked, I apologised.” I stop talking, not knowing where I’m going. I have no idea what I’m trying to say. “So what is it about this chick then?” “I don’t know!” I exclaim. Suddenly the frustration becomes too much. “I don’t fucking know, man. It’s like I forget about her but I can never find anyone good enough. All these girls around us are so…bland. And… and she’s so real.” Jake nods and I take a deep breath. I look over at him and I know my eyes are blazing as I talk about her. “You know what she’s doing right now?” Jake shakes his head slowly, waiting for me to continue. “She’s gone to fucking North Korea to investigate their nuclear program. North Korea! She’s actually doing things with her life, Jake. We’re here, singing the same fucking bullshit to the same fans and just collecting a paycheck.” I take a deep breath, feeling the blood pumping through my veins. I rub the nape of my neck and I can feel the heat of my outburst sizzling on my skin. It takes a few moments for Jake to respond. His voice is quiet, but powerful. “We’re making music, Derek. We’re giving people joy and art. We’re not sel
louts.” “Aren’t we? When was the last time we wrote something without thinking about what the label wanted? When was the last time we took a chance?” “So fucking write something then!” Jake exclaims. Suddenly he’s the one with his voice raised. “Fucking do something! If you’re feeling so unhappy, why don’t you put your fucking pen to paper and write a song. Write a lick. Anything. Write about her. Don’t sit here feeling sorry for yourself and wondering why nothing is changing.” Jake crumples his empty beer can in one hand and throws it towards the garbage. It bounces off the wall and falls in with a soft thud. He looks back at me, his eyes sharp and his breath shallow. He lifts his shoulders ever so slightly and lets them fall down again. His words hit me like a freight train. He’s right. I’ve been caught up in my own thoughts, my own worries. I can’t keep feeling sorry for myself. I look up at him slowly, processing the thoughts that are flying through my head. “Alright,” I say. “Pass me that guitar.” Jake smiles and grabs my old acoustic from the stand in the corner. My good luck guitar. The guitar that I’ve had since high school. I don’t play shows with it anymore but I bring it everywhere with me. He hands it to me and nods once, then sits down and pulls two drumsticks out of his back pocket. He starts tapping on the coffee table and I close my eyes, letting the rhythm guide me as I start to strum. Chapter 11 – Derek
Second Chance: A Rockstar Romance in North Korea Page 3