After all of this I slept most of the day. Members once again were scattered around the room. I saw Heejun clung to my leg. What surprised me more was Youjin, who was sleeping beside me, holding my arm, as if I would run away.
“Good morning!” Inseong said loudly, coming in (also loudly). He had wet hair, so he must have bathed a moment ago.
“Where’s Seungjun-hyung?” I asked.
“Huh?” Inseong looked around confused. “Where is he?”
I felt someone grabbed my hip, so without much thinking I kicked, at the same time waking Heejun. I heard a groan. Seungjun’s hand fell down. I leaned out of the bed.
“Why is he sleeping there?” I said to Inseong. Seungjun was laying on the floor.
“You kicked him out,” Heejun muttered, looking for his pillow, which was on Seungjun’s face.
“Me? How come?”
“Maybe he was hugging you too tight,” Inseong laughed.
Youjin was slowly waking up too. He looked around, as if he didn’t know how he ended up here.
“How’re feeling?” Heejun said. He touched my forehead. “Good, fever is gone.”
“I had fever?”
“Yeah, probably because of the injury.”
“Jihun’s butt is sooo big…” we suddenly heard.
Seungjun hugged pillow and murmured something else that we didn’t understand.
“I really don’t wanna know what he’s dreaming about” I said.
Later this evening we had a meeting with the security in their room, on the first floor.
“He admitted that he send the package and wrote those threats,” manager said. “But he strongly denies he threw the lamp.”
“I believe him,” I said and everyone looked at me surprised.
“Jihun-ah –” Seungjun began, but I interrupted him.
“I know what he did. But he was serious, when he told me he would never kill. He’s just a high schooler. He wouldn’t do something like that.”
“We caught the stalker on a camera,” security guard stated all of a sudden and he showed us a footage from CCTV.
There was the hooded man. From this angle he looked different than that high schooler. He was indeed tall but slim. Then I saw his wry smile that I clearly remembered from fan signing. This time I saw half of his face.
“That’s not the high schooler” I whispered and others realized this too. “He’s... Who’s he!?”
TO BE CONTINUED