The past few days have been electrifying. The band and I have been writing like crazy, locking ourselves in my basement studio and coming up with track after track. At this rate we’ll have another album written and recorded in a matter of weeks. It feels like the old days, when we were fresh in the industry. We wrap up the song we’re working on and sit down on the studio’s couches together. Jake hands me a beer and I crack it open, taking a long gulp of the cold liquid. I feel good. For the first time in months, maybe years, I feel truly good. I’m doing what I came out here to do, and this album feels like it’s going to be something big. I take another sip of beer and sit back. I pull out my phone and scroll through my news feed, trying to clear my head from the long day of playing and writing and recording. Suddenly a headline jumps out at me American Journalist Held Hostage in North Korea as Threats of Nuclear War Escalate
My heart skips a beat and the world around me goes silent. All I can hear is a thunderous rushing in my ears. No, no, no, no, no. I click on the news story and wait for the page to load. It seems to take an eternity. I can’t hear anything around me, can’t see anything except the screen, and the little blue wheel that keeps spinning and spinning and spinning. “Fucking load!” I whisper to my phone, willing the news story to come up. My palms are suddenly sweaty and I can feel all the fibres in my shirt rubbing against my skin. The room is hotter than it was ten seconds ago. Finally the page loads and I read it hungrily. My eyes scan down the screen, looking for her name. I don’t see her name. Before relief can wash over me, I see something worse. I see her picture. They must have gotten that photo from her mother. She looks beautiful, a closeup of her face. She’s smiling or laughing for the camera. Suddenly there’s a ringing in my ears and my breath feels short. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, willing this to be wrong, willing it to be a lie. “Fuck!” I yell suddenly, no longer able to keep it contained. I throw my beer against the wall and it splashes against it before landing on the floor. Beer seeps out of it where it lands. The guys in the room fall silent and turn towards me. “What’s going on, Derek,” Jake asks me quietly. I look up at him and see all of them staring. My mouth opens and closes like a fish as I try to get the words out, but they won’t come out. I look from Jake to the beer to the door and back to Jake. I can’t speak. “Derek, are you ok?” All I can do is hold out my phone. Jake takes it and I see his brows furrow as he reads the article. The realisation hits him and his expression changes to horror. He glances back at me and all I can do is shake my head.
“It’s her,” I whisper. “What’s going on?” Our bassist, Nick, calls out. I look over at him, frowning as he looks at the two of us. Suddenly the reality hits me with full force. She’s over there, being held hostage against her will, maybe being tortured or worse. She’s in danger, and I’m here singing songs. I’m here, completely powerless. I look from Nick to Jake and feel my heart beating through my chest. I stand up and grab my phone from Jake, finally finding the strength to speak. “What’s going on is that the woman I’ve been in love with for the past ten years is in fucking NORTH KOREA being held hostage.” I wave the phone in front of me, pointing it at Nick. My voice is shaky at first but by the time I’m done I realise I’m yelling. A strained yell builds up in my chest and erupts through my throat as my hands fly up to my face. My fingers wrap themselves around my hair and I bend in half, feeling a searing pain rip through my abdomen. I scream into the floor, trying to stop the pain from spreading through my body. I never should have let her walk away from me. I never should have let her leave. I can’t take back what I did in high school but I’m a grown fucking man and I let her walk away from me. I let her walk right out of my life when she was practically in my arms. I could have begged her to stay, begged her to come to LA with me. I love her. I’ve always loved her. The words burn themselves onto my brain and I finally admit to myself what I’ve been ignoring all these years. I love her, and I’ve never loved anyone else. And now… I stand up and Jake takes a step towards me. Instinctively, I back away, and then turn around and stalk out the door. I can’t breathe, I need some air. I need to think. I need to fix this. Chapter 12 – Ellie
I wake up to the sun streaming through the blinds. I enjoy the blissful second of peace before the reality of my situation comes crashing down around me. I look around the room and wonder how I’ve ended up here. This room is exactly like everything else in this country: on the surface it seems nice, perfect, pristine, but the reality is much darker. This is my prison. Mike and I arrived in Pyongyang three weeks ago today and that was the beginning of the unravelling. We met our Korean guide and were toured around to various monuments and statues and took the required photos, all the while both of us were waiting for the third day, when we would have one short hour to see the nuclear warheads hangar. The day arrived and our guide showed up to the hotel alone. He drove us out to another monument of Kim Jong-un, but instead of taking us back to the hotel he led us down a road to a normal-looking building. From the outside it looked like a regular apartment block, but the minute we stepped in it was like stepping into another world. He opened a crate and I took photos of old, dust-covered bombs. Nuclear symbols were stamped on each one. He swept his arm around the room and I snapped photo after photo, realising with horror the scale of their nuclear arsenal. “This is only one storage facility,” he said. There are many of them. He handed me a cryptic map with red dots all over the city. It was disguised to look like a tourist map. I snapped a picture of the map and then handed it back to our guide before heading back to the car. Mike nodded to me, and as we had discussed I popped the memory card out of my camera and slipped it into a small pocket in the neckline of my shirt, sewn exactly for that purpose. I replaced the memory card with a fresh one in the camera. It wasn’t a second too soon. Before we opened the car doors, an armed guard approached. He took Mike away and I was escorted back to the hotel. I don’t know what happened to our guide. Not knowing is the worst part. I was given no explanation, no reasons, no charges have been filed, I haven’t been convicted of anything. Nothing. Complete, total darkness. I don’t know what happened to Mike, what they know, what they don’t know. They tell me nothing. I remember the way my heart was beating in my chest that day and the days that followed. The way the photos stored in my shirt seemed to burn against my skin. I think – I hope – that they have no proof, no documents, nothing to tie us to anything incriminating. They didn’t see us in the building, and they never found the memory card. But they know we weren’t here for a profile on Kim Jong-un. They must have known from the start. For the past two weeks I’ve been separated from Mike. They won’t let me out of this room. They feed me, give me water, drinks, tea. I can even choose my meals off a menu. If it wasn’t for the locked door and armed guards everywhere, I could just be on vacation, staying in a nice hotel room. But I can’t leave. I can’t call my family, I can’t contact Mike. They’ve taken my passport. I’m a prisoner. I sit up in bed and blink back the tears. I’ve been crying enough in the past weeks. I flick the sheets back and swing my legs over the bed, wiping my eyes with the heel of my hands. I get up and look out the window. It’s a nice day outside with clear blue skies and a bright sun. I’ve studied the landscape constantly since I’ve been locked in here. It’ll be burned into my mind for the rest of my life, however long that lasts. I scan the buildings out the window. The two abandoned husks of buildings on the left hand side frame the view ominously. I close my eyes and lean my forehead on the cool window, wishing I was somewhere else. I wish I was back home, on my front porch on a warm summer evening. I wish I was standing there with Derek Hart, and he was looking at me deep in the eye, his face inches from mine with the air charged with ten years of tension between us. I wish I hadn’t walked away. If I’d kissed him that night, I could replay that memory right now over and over and at least I would have that to cling to. But now all I can do is imagine it. I try to remember his smell, the warm spicy musk, and the size of his
body. I think about the way my own body yearned for his. I was almost itching for his hands on me. I should have leaned in, tilted my chin up. I’d give anything to taste his lips right now, and feel his arms around me. He’d wrap them around my body and I’d be warm and safe. I’d be safe. I can almost – almost – feel it. It’s like a word that’s on the tip of my tongue or a song that I can’t quite remember. His touch is a distant memory that’s just out of reach. I open my eyes and take a deep breath, ignoring the tear that falls down my cheek. There’s no use thinking like that. It only distracts me from my situation, only makes it more unbearable than it already is to be locked in this room. I straighten myself up and turn towards the dresser. I reach for the shirt with the tiny pocket sewn into the neckline and feel for the memory card. It’s still there. Everything else was confiscated, but they never found the tiny card. I know I’m placing myself in absolute danger by keeping it but if I ever get out of here I want something to show for it. I hear a knock on the door. Slowly, my head turns towards the sound. I’m not sure why my heart starts beating like this, why every sensation is heightened and why the seconds seem to drag on forever. I hear the lock on the door scrape open and watch as the doorknob turns. The door swings open. “Hello, Miss Walters.” A tall, graceful Korean man is framed by the doorway. His English has a slight accent to it and he bows his head slowly as he greets me. He’s wearing an army uniform. It’s perfectly pressed with a chest full of medals. His hair is slicked back and his sharp black eyes meet mine when he straightens himself up. He steps into the room and is followed by a woman I recognise. The woman who brings me my meals. She’s carrying a long box. The man speaks. “Our Supreme Leader will be honoured by your company this morning. Please,” he pauses. The woman walks in and places the box gently on the bed. He bows again and spins on his heels, walking down the hallway. Before I even think about moving, another man reaches in and pulls the door shut. The sound of the lock clicking runs straight through my heart. I turn to the woman. “Hi, Jang-mi,” I say slowly. As usual, she stays quiet. Her skin is perfectly smooth and pale and her black hair is pulled back into a low bun. She flicks the lid off the box and pulls out a long silk dress. The rich red fabric shimmers and flows over her arms as she lifts it out of the box and holds it up towards me. She nods once and looks at me. She points to the shower and I nod back. There are no questions here, only orders. Chapter 13 – Derek
“Derek, think about what you’re saying!” Jake exclaims over the phone. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve made up my mind Jake.” “Dude, you can’t go to fucking North Korea! The reason she’s being held hostage is because she went on this idiotic mission in the first place! What are you going to do?? Barge in there and demand they release her?” “Something like that,” I grumble. I sigh. I know he’s right. I know it’s stupid. I know it’ll probably be futile but I can’t just stay here. I’ve let her walk away from me too many times without saying anything when I should have run after her. I won’t let it happen again. “How do you even get to North Korea? Do they have flights? I doubt you can just show up and they let you in.” “I don’t know, Jake. I don’t fucking know, okay?!” I exclaim. I don’t know. I have no plan. I don’t know what I’m doing. I take a deep breath. “I’ve gotten her editor’s contact details, the one they interviewed on the news. I’m meeting him in an hour and he’ll tell me what he knows.” “Derek, please. This is suicidal. I know that you care about her but you need to take a step back and think about this.” “I’ll talk to you later Jake.” I hang up the phone before he can protest any more. I look around my bedroom and turn to my carry-on suitcase. If I pack now I’ll be ready to take the next flight over. I look at the mobile phone in my hand and grin. Jake’s right. I don’t even know if they have flights to North Korea. Mike is waiting for me in the bar, just like he said he would be. I sit down on the stool beside him and nod to the bartender, who walks over to us. “Just a beer please, and whatever he’s having,” I say. The surly old man nods and walks over to the tap. Mike turns to me and extends his hand for me to shake. “Thanks for meeting me,” I say to him. Mike nods. “Under different circumstances I might be starstruck right now. I didn’t know you knew Ellie so well,” he says as he looks at me sideways. “We… we grew up together.” I don’t want to tell him about our past, or how I feel about her now. “Listen, Mike. I need to know what happened. I..” I pause. “I’m going to go there.” Mike frowns. “Go where?” he asks slowly. I turn to look at him as the bartender places our drinks in front of us. “North Korea.” I see Mike swallow as his eyes widen. His mouth opens and then closes again and he leans away from me in his stool. “Listen, Derek. That’s very…. Valiant of you. But with all due respect you have no fucking idea what you’re getting yourself into.” I ignore him. “I need your contacts. I’ll go over and I can put on a show for them or whatever. An exclusive. I don’t know. I’ll put on a concert for them and then get her out. But I need to get there. And I need your help for that.” Mike turns to his drink and takes a slow sip. He puts the beer down gently and runs his finger along the edge of the label. It takes every ounce of patience that I have not to knock it down and force him to look at me again. Finally he takes a deep breath and turns to me. “We planned our mission for months. We had every minute accounted for. We took every precaution, left our phones and computers and made sure our records were spotless. And still,” his voice cracks and he looks over my shoulder as his eyes glaze over. “Still, they found out. Our Korean contact and his family have disappeared and Ellie is in their custody. It’s my fault. I don’t even know why they sent me home and didn’t detain me. The way they operate is a mystery, but I know for sure they’re sending a message by keeping her there.” His eyes mist and I put my hand on his shoulder. It feels so frail under my palm. I feel him tremble and then straighten himself up. “I can’t be responsible for you too. I’m sorry, Derek. I just can’t.” “You won’t be, Mike.” I look at him in the eyes and see the deep sadness that clouds them. “I’m a grown man. I’m making this decision. I need to go. If you won’t help me I’ll find someone who can. I’ve got shitloads of money and I know someone will want to take it in exchange for a plane ticket and access to North Korea.” “People will take your money but it doesn’t mean you’ll make it there. Do you understand what you’re asking me?!” I don’t answer. I don’t know how to answer! I obviously have no idea what I’m getting myself into. I have no idea what I’m asking of him. All I know is that I have to go. There is no other option. Mike stares at me for what seems like forever. I can see the conflict behind his eyes as he processes what I’ve said. Finally he nods. “Ok,” he says, nodding again. His expression is sour and he takes another gulp of beer. “I’ll get you there.” Chapter 14 – Ellie
I look at myself in the mirror and almost start laughing. This is the most glamorous I’ve ever looked. The silky red fabric is hugging my body perfectly, falling to the floor and puddling slightly at my feet. The neckline is high and the dress has long sleeves so I’m fully covered, but still it leaves nothing to the imagination. It clings to me as if it was made for me. Maybe it was, I have no way of knowing. I spin around and look at the back. It’s an absolutely gorgeous dress. It would be nice to have somewhere to wear it that isn’t… here. I turn around and Jang-mi holds up her hands. She’s holding a long necklace. I let her clasp it around my neck. She pats my hair down and nods once, and then walks to the door and knocks on it twice. It swings open and she turns towards me, motioning to the door. “Thanks,” I say, knowing she won’t respond. I wish she would. She’s the only bit of human contact I have and the most I’ve been able to get out of her is her name. It’s like she’s terrified of talking to me. In fact, if I’ve noticed anything about this place it’s that everybody is terrified of talking to me, or each other, or anything. There’s a strong underlying tension to everything. I’m led down a long hallway. The wallpaper is peeling and the carpet is faded. There’s a staleness to ever
ything here. My dress glides against my skin with every step and my heels sink into the carpet as I try not to wobble. There’s an armed guard in front of me and another behind me. Jang-mi has disappeared somewhere without me noticing. We walk to the elevator and take it down to the lobby. No one looks at me, no one speaks. It’s like I’m invisible, but I know I’m not. The few staff that are in the hotel move silently out of the way and then close in behind us when we walk past, like a school of fish moving around a shark. It’s all silent, graceful, practiced. The tension, the fear – it’s all engrained in everyone’s life. I take a deep breath as we reach the front door. There’s a black car waiting for us, and I’m ushered inside. My eyes are scanning everywhere, looking for a way out. Even if I was able to dodge the guards, I’m wearing a floor length red silk gown, and I’m the only tourist for miles around, as far as I can tell. I wouldn’t make it far. I have to resign myself to this. I sit down in the leather seats in the back of the car and one of the men closes the door. I hear the locks click shut and the car glides forward immediately. There are two others in the front seat. No one speaks, no one looks at me, no one moves. It’s all choreographed, as if every single second of this is planned. I watch as we drive through the streets. We must be taking a tourist route, because the road is lined on either side with trees and flowers. The shops and buildings are bright and newly renovated. There’s no hint of the desolation or abandonment that I could glimpse in the distance from my room. The car is noiseless and we glide through the streets. We pass statue after statue of Kim Jong-un. He’s always got wreaths of fresh flowers laid before him. There are billboards will his face all over the place, pictures of him in shop windows. The Supreme Leader. I’m going to meet him in a few moments. I feel strangely calm. It’s like I’ve entered an alternate universe, where nothing is as it seems. I’ve gone through the rabbit hole into a dystopian land and all I can do is watch as I pass through it. I’m an unwilling tourist, being paraded around and kept in captivity. I’ve become part of their illusion. I wonder if they’ll kill me. I wonder if they’ll keep me here forever. I wonder if they’ll start starving me, or start torturing me. Is this torture already? Maybe it starts with isolation and psychological torture to soften you up before the real event begins. The car turns down a wide boulevard. It’s separated with a wide median filled with bright flowers. The North Korean flag hangs down pendants at regular intervals. I can see a huge gilded gate down the road. Behind the gate is what looks like a palace. It’s painted white with gold trims with huge flags hanging down the front. My heart starts beating a little bit faster and I realise that I’m still alive. This is really happening. I’m meeting the Chairman of the Worker’s Party of Korea, the Supreme Leader of the Democratic Republic of Korea, the Supreme Commander of the Korean People’s Army. I’m meeting Kim Jong-un. Chapter 15 – Derek
Second Chance: A Rockstar Romance in North Korea Page 4