Page 28 of I Did Something Bad
“Wh-what?” I say. I’d gotten distracted with tracing the shape of his cupid’s bow.
“What’s weird?”
I make a vague gesture with my hands. “How did no one else see him? I thought at least one other person would’ve mentioned that they remembered him lurking around or something, but everyone seems to be completely taken by surprise. Which isbizarrebecause how did that guy hang around without a single person noticing him? I mean,youshook hands with every single person on set and yet evenyoudidn’t see him? I know it was getting dark and it’s a huge set and everyone had first-day nerves—”
Tyler sits up. “What do you meanhow did he hang around? Yousawhim on set? Before the… incident?”
“No. But he knew my name and what I did, so—”
“What do you mean he knew your name?”
“He… said my name.” I frown down at the section of leather separating us. I don’t want to think about that night, but I need to get this right. “Yes.” I nod, flinching internally as the asshole’s rasp rings through my brain. “He called me Khin. And he called me a… journalist bitch.”
Tyler’s voice drops low. “And you’re sure you’d never met him before?”
“Never,” I confirm, to him and to myself.
“Khin.” I watch him inhale but not exhale. Instead, he starts rubbing the back of his neck. “I think we—”
Thud thud thud.We both jump in our seats at the knocks on the black glass partition in front of us. “Yes?” Tyler asks.
“Sorry to bother you,” Yan says as he lowers a few inches of glass. I notice for the first time that the car has slowed down. Like,reallyslowed down to the point where we might as well be parked. “But we have a situa—”
Our collective attention snaps to the screams that cut through the (supposedly) soundproof glass windows. We’re in front of the entrance to my apartment. Which is swarming with teenage girls like this is a zombie movie and they’re the zombies and this building is housing every single human left on this earth.
“What the—” I start.
“Fuck,” Tyler mutters. I’m not prepared for the fear in his eyes when he looks back at me. Fear and… something else. Something like… guilt? He confirms it when he says, “I’m so sorry. Someone must’ve trailed me here this morning. I didn’t mean…”
I don’t know how to respond to a situation like this (I never thought I would have to). But Tyler looks so miserable with guilt that I wave it off like it’s no big deal that my building looks like it’s the site of a one-night-only One Direction reunion.
“It’s not your fault. I’m more worried aboutyou,” I say, giving him my most empathetic smile. “They’re going to leave once they realize you don’t actually live here. But what about what might be happening at yours? Do you have enough security? Wait—” I say, realizing something for the first time. “Whydon’tyou have security? You do back in the States.”
Tyler gives a small shrug. “I didn’t want my family to feel weird when we went out. The staff in my building have all been informed onhow to deal with this, but generally speaking, I didn’t think it’d ever get this bad.”
“You’re Tyler Tun,” I say.
He shrugs again like that means nothing to him. “Doyouwant security, though? Because I can—”
I shake my head frantically. Have a stranger trail me and be up in my business at all times? NDA or not, no thank you, sir. “I don’t think we should be actively hiring people to follow us around,” I murmur with a pointed raise of my brows.
“Oh. Right.”
“Sir?” Yan pipes up. “What, um… should we do?”
“We can leave,” I offer, ignoring the thrumming ache in my calves and my heels, a result of being on my feet for the better part of nine hours. “I can grab dinner at a restaurant and get a taxi back later.”
The truth is, I had planned on driving to the park after Tyler dropped me off to try to find my pen in the area around the lake. I know crawling around a park this late at night with a phone flashlight is not the smartest idea (especially given what transpired approximately twenty-four hours ago), but this is the only free time I have. Otherwise I’ll have to wait until my day off, which is four days away, and what if someone else finds the pen before Sunday?
“Absolutely not.” Tyler’s firm reply drags me back into the present. “Someone could’ve spotted you this morning and recognize you at the restaurant. Do you…” He searches my face. “Want to come back to mine? Just until this goes away. Yan can call the building staff to see what’s happening,” he adds. “Like you said, at some point, they’re going to figure out I don’t live here and they’ll leave.”
“Oh, I don’t—” I clear my throat. “I don’t think that would be… appropriate. Journalism ethics, appearances in case someone spots me, you know? It’s quite late already, and if someone happens to see me entering your place, then they might assume…”
“Shit, of course,” he says hurriedly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Um.” He looks around the car. “Is there anywhere else you can shelter in place for a few hours? With someone you trust?”
I could argue again for the restaurant, but the protective crease between his brows tells me either he’s leaving me at a friend’s house, or we’re going to shelter in place in this car until this crowd disperses.
Two addresses spring to my mind, and, making a split-second decision, I choose the geographically closer of two evils.You home?I text after giving Yan directions.
