You're My Only Star

Chapter Three: In Which I Grasp Acceptance

Just to walk you over a lot of sedatives, therapy and rejection, I spent a week stuck in the hospital, before the doctors even thought about discharging me. Apparently, they analyzed me for psychosis, and what not, but all of my results came back clean and healthy.

The only issue was the change in the frontal lobe causing my identity crisis and temporary memory ‘loopholes’ and loss. At least to them, that’s the only thing wrong with me.

I knew better, but it’s not like I had a choice, or a magic wand that would restore me back to my original body. And even if I did, will I really be able to go back to my original self? Amy Park is nothing more than a body in a coffin now. Even if by some miracle or mistake, I’m able to come back alive as my old self, the public already knows that I’m dead.

There is nothing I can do to help myself, but I at least know someone who somehow knows all the right answers to my problems. She was there when I went through my first break-up and many more after that, she was there when I had to blackmail a professor into letting me pass his class, and I only hope she will be here, to help me in this unique situation I’ve found myself in.

“We’re here. Are you sure this is the address miss?” Woo Bin asked, as he parked the car in front of the small apartment buildings, taking note of the location and glancing back at me through the review mirror to make sure I wasn’t wrong on the directions.

“Yeah, wait for me in the car, and for the last time, please stop calling me miss. Amelia or better yet Amy will be perfectly fine.” I said, swinging the car door open, before he could come around and do it for me.

In the weeks I spent in the hospital, I became more comfortable with Woo Bin, whom as I have guessed right, is Amelia’s personal bodyguard, and driver. I still couldn’t remember memories of how Amelia treated him, but from the actions I had collectively seen him show over the past week, I deciphered that it wasn’t really a friendly one.

But that didn’t come as a surprise. I expected nothing less from Amelia.

Woo Bin got out of the car too, at the speed of light, and bolted over to my side. “Miss, I can’t let you move around in this area unguarded, it’s too dangerous. I’m only doing my job.”

“Look, I’ve lived here for almost seven years. The only thing dangerous about this place is when the landlady gets back drunk after midnight and you haven’t paid the rent.” I said, before I could stop myself. A moment of realization hit me, and I slowly glanced at Woo Bin.

He gave me a peculiar look, as if he was trying to decide if knocking me out and taking me back to the hospital would be a good idea at the risk of losing his job.

“Erm, I mean… the person I know, has been living here for almost seven years and she told me this…” I corrected, with an awkward laughter, cleaning my sweating hands on the white silk dress I found along with Amelia’s other stuffs in the hospital.

Woo Bin reluctantly joined in on the awkward laughter, his doubtful and skeptical expression not changing for even a split second.

“I’m fine; really, just stay in the car. I’ll call you if I need anything. And drop the miss, or I’ll fire you.” I said.

His eyes widened, his face turning a little pale. I had meant the firing part as a joke, but it must’ve been really insensitive of me since Amelia probably didn’t joke around with her bodyguard. Woo Bin put both hands in his pockets, looking down at me with a pleading expression. It seemed like he was torn between what to do; duty, or orders.

“Yes, Mi… Amelia.” He finally stated, clamping down his mouth shut immediately after speaking as if the name ‘Amelia’ was a swear word his grandmother had forbidden him from ever saying, and washing his mouth with soap was the penalty of such a crime.

“Good, bye.” I replied, in a way Amelia might have done, with authority and mild disinterest. Quickly, before he could catch my demeanor change, I strolled towards the large steps, and started climbing up, careful not to trip on the too-high heels Amelia had been wearing on the day she was poisoned, and I died. Or she died. Whichever way you put it to make more sense.

My heart felt more at ease, as if I was finally coming home.

I balanced my hand on the railing; the railing Boomi had hit her head one night when she was drunk, and had to stay in the hospital for three days. The same railing I had tied my third boyfriend to, after knocking him out when I found out he was cheating on me. The exact same railing Boomi and I had touched so many times, in the course of our daily lives.

For the first time, the magnitude of my lost hit me.

I realized; nothing would ever go back to how it used to be. I had no family, and left the orphanage I grew up in the moment I turned eighteen. Boomi was my only family. And still is, but somehow, I didn’t just lose my body in the car crash.

I had also lost my best friend.

And she had lost me too. Well, in a way, because considering the fact that I was now walking back into her life, not only reborn from the afterlife, but in the body of Amelia; claiming she had lost me is not exactly accurate.

I took a breath, rehearsing in my head how I will approach the situation, and the fastest way to make her understand and believe that I am truly Amy in a different body.

“What is she doing here oh my God…”

To my left, a few steps up, three school girls were whiospering to each other, and pointing at me. Ara, Yuna, and Joonie; the triplets school-girls in our compound apartment, whom Boomi and I are good friends with stared at me, with hateful eyes.

Just when I almost waved hello back to them, I remembered whose body I was in now, and how I looked. Hating Amelia is a common trait all five of us had. Why you ask? Well; 1. She’s a generally horrible person and has more anti-fans than fans, 2. She sticks to Vincent, and tries to increase her fame at his expense, and 3. We don’t like that she’s pretty, horrible, and is trying to date Vincent.

This made me realize something! As Amy, I could only watch Vincent through screens and pictures, hear his voice through my speakers, and hopelessly wish he notices me in a crowd of millions of other fans screaming his name.

But as Amelia… let’s just say I had a ninety nine thousand present chance of actually getting closer to my idol, closer than the original Amelia had ever gotten. Or will ever get, since she is now possibly, very dead.

“Code red spill... I do it, and you snap it, okay?” Ara said to the two others, and fortunately I heard them. Double fortunately, I knew what code red spill meant.

This is what made me bang on the apartment door I used to live in together with Boomi, and press on the doorbell seven times successively, like a mad woman.

Code red spill is simply a move Boomi had created, for the sheer purpose of humiliating a person, and catching it on camera. It’s a horrible name, I know, and I’ve argued with her multiple times to change it to something better, and less army-sounding, but she refused.

It went like this. Person A would pretend to bump into the victim, in the process spilling something like a drink, a hot soup, in some cases even pee or toilet water, on them, and then person B, ready with the camera would capture the moment and post it online.

You can see my justified agitation now. The last thing I needed was my picture online, after barely surviving an attempted poisoning which by the way, the police and investigators still haven’t found a lead, or suspect.

Not to mention all the questions that would arise if I am seen publicly by the paparazzi at this exact location.

“For the last time, I’m not going to buy your damn shrimps you…” Boomi trailed off, as she swung the door open.

The smell of alcohol wafted from her mouth and I almost staggered back and coughed. She looked like the original definition of the word distressed. Her chin length black hair was a mess, sticking up in odd angles, and greasy, like she hadn’t washed it in weeks. She was also tipsy, very tipsy, and the only reason she was probably still able to keep her balance was because of the surprise.

“You have a grave fear of bees; you have a mole on your left butt-cheek, you ran over a black cat on your twenty-first birthday and claim its soul still haunts you to this day and you force yourself to throw up every time you eat something with too much calories because you’re scared of getting fat when in truth you’d look amazing with or without a chubby cheek. Boomi, I’m Amy… I’m not dead. Somehow, I woke up in Amelia’s body after the accident and…”

Her small eyes widened to the size of coins, making her dark under-eye bags pop. The soju bottle in her right hand crashed to the floor, splintering into pieces, and Boomi followed right after, thankfully in the opposite direction of the broken glass, with a loud thud.

I stepped in and shut the door before Ara and her sisters could reach me, putting the lock in place, and rushing to help up Boomi.

Well, I guess I shouldn’t have dumped everything on her.