Eleven minutes left.
I stood and paced, animated by the restless energy that always came after rehearsals, adrenaline with nowhere to go.
I thought about Griffin in that security room. Sitting alone with terrible coffee. My questions accumulated in the back of my mind. I didn’t have answers, but I knew where to find them.
I opened the door. Soyeon looked up from her tablet. “Do you need something?” she asked in Korean.
I answered in the same language. “I need to speak with the new security guard. The one from rehearsal.”
“Chief Kang can—”
“I don’t want Chief Kang.” I switched to English for the name. “Griffin.”
She hesitated. “Is there a problem?”
“No. I just need to speak with him.”
She knew when to stop negotiating. “Security room. Down the corridor, third door on the left past the monitor station.”
I loosened my hoodie’s strings and let my face emerge. Ran my fingers through my hair once, ordering instead of styling. Then I walked.
The security room was exactly where Soyeon had said it would be. The door was half-open. Through the gap, I saw Griffin at a folding table, reading something on his phone.
He looked up immediately when I knocked on the doorframe. His movements were fluid as he stood. He was taller than I’d registered during the redirect. Broader.
“Can I come in?” I asked.
“Of course.”
I entered and closed the door behind me. I hadn’t planned what to say. I’d only planned to come.
“I wanted to thank you,” I said. “For earlier. The redirect.”
“You already did. Onstage.”
“I know, but I wanted to do it properly. When people weren’t watching.”
“Anyone would’ve—”
“No,” I kept my voice level. “Most people would’ve called out. Or grabbed. Or let me walk into her and then apologize after.” I took one step closer. “You redirected me as if you knew I would follow your suggestion. That’s different.”
His hands remained relaxed at his sides, but his fingers flexed once. Involuntary.
“You are capable,” he said.
“I know, but most people don’t assume that.”
His shoulders filled out his plain black shirt. I wondered what he looked like beneath the fabric. Did his chest and stomach radiate the same controlled strength? Was his skin warm everywhere, or only his hands?
I asked my first question. “Are you here because of the threats?”
“Chief Kang asked for me specifically. I’m here because someone thought I could do this job well.”
“Can you?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’m trying.”
He was honest.
