Manyeo

Chapter One

Handsome Korean born, seventeen-year-old, Kang-Dae Bak with his short sleek raven hair, mesmerising deep hazel eyes, spun around on his heel fast in the middle of the group and executed a perfect side step to the right. The other four boys followed, matching his move in the brightly lit modern dance studio surrounded by mirrors. He moved to continue the rest of the dance but a loud moan followed by Korean expletives from the female choreographer, had him stopping dead.

What the hell is wrong now?

He gave her an annoyed look and quickly, nervously softened it, making sure he respectively did not make direct contact with the older woman when she narrowed her eyes at him.

“The timing must be perfect,” the stern woman stepped forward shaking her head. “You have not yet attained that perfection,” she asserted. He noticed she wasn’t addressing him so much as the others at the back. “And the slide must be gradual and smooth.” She demonstrated and they all reciprocated the direction by replicating it in front of her. “You should be following, Kang-Dae at this point. Your timing must be in line with his and you should be functioning as a team, not individually.”

“Why is he always at the front?” Leo demanded in a whiney voice. Kang- Dae rolled his eyes.

“Because, right now, he knows how to do it better than any of you. If you want this international band to rise to the top and be the next BTS, you will follow my direction without question,” the intonation in her voice rose to frustrated fever pitch.

Kang -Dae winced at the high pitched noise as it grated on his nerves. Being the lead was great, just what he wanted but it came at a price. The others in the band were often jealous and always looking for a way to discredit him. Still, he wasn’t about to give it up or let anyone else better him and take it from him. He’d worked too hard for this and he wouldn’t let his parents back in Busan in South Korea down.

“Our first TV appearance is scheduled to take place in London in just two days. We will be perfect and will not let The Gray Adair School down. Now will we, gentlemen?”

“No, Mrs Jeong,” they dutifully, painfully chorused.

“Now, we will run through the routine twice more before you attend your vocal lesson. Then Mr Barnes can assure your vocals match your perfect dance routine. Full dress rehearsal will take place tonight at 7 in the theatre with your class mates and the girls of Gray Adair, your toughest audience yet. You will be perfect and not let me down, will you?” she snapped.

“Yes, Mrs Jeong.”

They had been going at it since 6am. Vocals were at 8.30 and then normal A-level lessons after that. He kept telling himself it would be worth it in the end. Their first single had so far been well received by the radio stations and was due for release next Monday. If all went well, they could be the first band to be successful before graduating from the International famous Gray Adair School.

Situated in Borrowdale, Lake District in the North West of the UK, the school took pupils from all over the world from the age of sixteen to just beyond degree level. There was no other school like it on the planet. It fostered Performing Arts and Sport. The school had produced many successful sports stars and talent for arts and entertainment and was run by an international committee after the death of its founder, Gray Adair, four years ago.

When Kang-Dae’s parents had first told him they were sending him across to the other side of the world to the school, hidden amongst a back drop of mountains and lakes where it frequently rained, it was a dream come true. It was everything he’d wished for, even if it meant leaving them which proved harder than he believed. He would remain forever grateful and would not let them down returning home triumphant and rich.

Kang-Dae was so close to making it and he wasn’t going to allow anything to get in his way. He was going to make sure he stayed the lead of their band, imaginatively titled, ZK, Zombie Knights. He shook his head when the name was first suggested, wishing they could have a better name but hey it was what it was. They’d taken a vote on it and the rest of the guys in the group loved it. Personally, he would have gone for something more intelligent but he had to admit, the name had a certain ring to it. It was more palatable shortened to ZK. The DJ’s at the radio stations thankfully referred to them as ZK and it was catching on amongst the growing number of fans.

They ran through the routine twice more and this time got it right. If the TV appearance went well and the release was as successful as anticipated, he would be on the road to stardom, riches and freedom quicker than anticipated.

Mr Barnes kept them over time as usual and Kang-Dae was late for A-level English. He raced along the mahogany wood floor of the huge English eighteenth century Neo-Palladian Mansion, past the Flemish tapestries on the wall, praying he wouldn’t slide on the polished floor. He was just nearing the end of the corridor and the door of the Common room where they were to sit and discuss Hamlet when Kang-Dae heard a loud scream of pain. It was a girl. He stopped and listened again, wondering if he had imagined the noise.

There was another muffled cry and the sound of something or someone being pushed into something accompanied by cruel male laughter. He turned his head in the direction of the girl’s bathroom.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” it was a girl’s voice he hadn’t heard before or at least it was one he didn’t remember.

Curiosity overtook him. He looked up at the sign depicting that it was forbidden for him to enter, a female domain only and listened again debating whether or not to go in. If he was caught . . .He couldn’t afford to be. He turned ready to leave when there was the sound of a scuffle and male voices again. Someone was in trouble. He was pushing the door open before he even realised what he was doing and entering.

Kang Dae walked into the large plush girl’s bathroom which resembled an old fashioned powder room more than anything else with chairs and mirrors for girls to sit and brush their hair and women to apply make-up. He’d never been in the girl’s bathroom before and he had never imagined it looking like this. The boy’s toilet was plain, tiled and functional. This was another world.

At the opposite end of the room, a small group of pupils from his year congregated around an English girl with long cream blonde wavy hair, half pulled out of a scrunchie. She was pretty. How had he never seen before her? Three boys and two girls stood around her. They were jabbing and poking her as she tried to back away from them, hurling insults at her in English, Korean and Russian. The girls were taking video with their cameras and laughing. One of the boys he recognised as the leader, a Korean, Sang-Hoon from their year, appeared to be leading the group.

He got right up in the girl’s face and pushed his hand into her chest hard, spitting Korean swear words at her. Her head and back hit one of the toilet cubicle doors with force causing it to bang open and hit the opposite wall. With a cry, she fell sideways and struck her head on the toilet seat, drawing blood from her nose and a trickle from her lip. By the looks of all the other doors being wide open, it wasn’t the first time, Sang-Hoon had done this to her. He stood over and reached to pull her dazed body up, cheered on by the group.

“Not so clever now, are you?” he sneered.

“Hey,” Kang-Dae angrily barged through the group to start pulling, Sang-Hoon away from the girl.

“What the hell are you doing? Get off her,” he shouted.

Sang-Hoon twisted his handsome face to one side and laughed out loud.

“Who the fuck, are you to tell me what to do, Kang-Dae? She deserves everything she gets. She comes from a bad family.”

He pushed Kang-Dae away and went for her again. She’d been trying to get tissue for her bleeding nose and crawl away but Sang-Hoon wasn’t letting her go anywhere. Anger swelled inside, Kang-Dae as the others stood laughing.

“Get him out of here,” Sang-Hoon ordered the other boys. Kang-Dae growled and launched himself at Sang-Hoon before the others could reach him.

“You are going to kill her doing that. What are you picking on a defenceless girl for?” he said pushing him against the wall away from her.

“I am not defenceless,” he heard her murmur under her breath.

Frowning at her, Kang-Dae came to stand in front of her abused body to shield her.

“I am not going to let you hurt her again, Saekki,” he challenged Sang-Hoon with an air of arrogant authority.

Sang-Joon’s black eyes darkened as the other Korean boy, his close friend swore back at him in Korean. Sang-Joon leaned menacingly towards, Kang-Dae.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Do you need it in English, Sang-Joon? Bastard.”

“Kkeojyeo.”

“You telling me to fuck off? Why don’t you? Everybody in the school wants you to fuck off back home to Korea, gae-sae-kki.”

Kang-Dae was ready for a fight and calling Sang-Joon, a son of a bitch was the right way to ask for one. He’d never liked the way Sang-Joon swaggered around the school like he owned it with his own group. He was always coming down hard on anyone whose face he did not like or who he believed posed a threat to his ownership and leadership of the year as a bully.

His father was a powerful rich man and pumped lots of money into the school. He was also on the committee. Certain teachers deliberately turned a blind eye to his antics by order of the headmaster, who was frightened of losing his job, vowing to take others with him if he did.

Kang-Dae was outraged and afraid for the girl. He vaguely remembered her now. She was the quiet English girl at the back of the class who sat on her own. He’d forgotten she was there. She was a future Sports Star, a figure skater, he remembered someone saying once. He had a vague recollection.

No one really spoke to her. He’d been too busy and wrapped up in his own life and ambition to notice. It made him feel ashamed. Seo-Jun would have chastised him for it. He’d failed to protect her, his own doting younger sister. He had failed to notice the signs she was being bullied when she’d kept it quiet, too wrapped up in his own life and worries. Maybe if he thought of ours more than himself, he would have been able to save her and stop her from jumping off the roof of the school in Busan. He wasn’t going to let it happen again.

Sang-Joon pushed him hard against the war of the toilet cubicle. Kang-Dae’s head struck the toilet wall hard. He tried to move forward but the boy did it again. Big mistake. It fuelled, Kang-Dae’s temper to boiling point. He pushed back hard. Sang-Joon swung a punch at him but his opponent made sure he missed and fielded his own, striking his jaw.

Kang-Dae threw him out of the toilet cubicle into the crowd that had suddenly become larger. He scattered them like skittles. The girls squealing all eager to avoid being caught up in the fight and the boys not wanting to get involved unless called to by Sang-Joon.

Hoping by now, Sang-Joon had gotten the message, Kang-Dae turned to help the girl, Danya Charles. He had to get her out of there. She was so pale she looked like she was going to pass out any moment. There was a lot of blood coming from her nose and there was bruising around her eye and the side of her face.

Sang-Joon stood back up quick. Quicker than Kang-Dae would have preferred. He barely had any time to get Danya back on her feet before one of Sang-Joon’s cronies was pulling her away from him. The boy pulled Danya’s arms behind her back as she struggled to free herself. They were trapped.

Chapter Two

“Let her go,” Kang-Dae demanded. “You are hurting her.” But Sang-Joon started to fight with him again.

They fell to the ground outside the toilet. Sang-Joon pinned Kang-Dae to the floor, straddling him, punching at his face. Mrs Jeong was going to kill him. Her perfect boy band look was going to be ruined. At this rate she would shove him to the back and let one of the others take the lead. Frustrated, the Korean brought his leg up and kneed Sang-Joon. Shocked, the boy lost his grip of Kang-Dae who seized his chance and tossed him over to the side. He immediately jumped on him and laid another punch to Sang-Joon’s face, now he had him trapped.

“Hey, stop,” one of the girls, a Swedish student, Freja caught his attention. Satisfied, Sang-Joon looked tired and ready to give up, Kang-Dae glanced behind him. The boy was still holding a struggling Danya. Freja caught hold of hair and pulled her head back. She had a red lipstick, the same colour on her ugly pouting lips. She laughed out loud and wrote whore across Danya’s face the word, whore.

“Just like your mother,” she laughed. He stared shocked at her and then back at a dazed Sang-Joon with a bloodied mouth. He opened his mouth to speak but the voice of one of the male teachers could be heard in the corridor outside.

“Shit, it’s Mr Claremont. Run. If he finds us in here we are dead,” someone said. Everyone dispersed, running in all directions. Freja and the boy let go of Danya. She dropped onto her knees, head bent, breathing hard, blood still dripping from her nose.

Sang-Joon pushed Kang-Dae off him. He stood up wiping the blood away from his mouth with his hand. He pointed his finger at Kang-Dae.

“This isn’t over. I am going to make sure, she and her bitch whore mother get everything they deserve for breaking up my parent’s marriage.”

Kang-Dae growled and stood directly in front of Danya to block Sang-Joon from aggressively advancing towards her again. He thrust his hand in Sang-Joon’s chest.

“And I will be waiting for you. If you go near her again, I will make you regret the day you were born.”

Sang-Joon started to laugh. He cast his eyes over his fellow student with disgust.

“Ppung.”

Kang-Dae narrowed his eyes but did not say anything.

One of Sang-Joon’s friends came rushing in. He tugged at his arm.

“We have to go. If Mr Claremont catches you in here . . .”

“What? He’ll not dare do anything.”

He was still staring Kang-Dae down.

“I don’t think you should take that chance. He doesn’t like your father and he isn’t afraid of him like the rest of them. He has made that pretty clear. He will make your life hard. Come on.”

Sang-Joon laughed and pointed at his eyes with his fingers, then at Kang-Dae.

“I am watching you.”

“Come on.”

Finally, Sang-Joon turned and hurried to follow his friend out of the bathroom. Kang-Dae let out the angry breath he had been holding inside to stop himself from decking Sang-Joon once more. A whimper had him turning around. Danya was still on all fours as though she was unable to move.

Softening his tense features, Kang-Dae retrieved some tissues from one of the boxes on the table in front of each individual mirror and bent down.

“Here,” he said holding it out to her watching it drip onto the carpet. He dipped his head to look underneath under all the luscious blonde hair that was hanging down to the floor, obscuring the view of her pretty damaged face. “Are you ok?” he asked softly.

“What did he say to you before he left?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

“He said I was a joke,” he smiled. “He is the joke.”

Silence. She still hadn’t taken the tissue.

“Did you mean what you said?” she ventured.

Kang-Dae raised an eyebrow.

“When I say something, I mean it,” he said knowing exactly what she was referring to.

She nodded.

“Thank you. Nobody has cared before.”

She still hadn’t moved and he was beginning to worry. Gently, carefully, he placed the tissue under her bloodied nose and face covered in sticky red lipstick and pressed. That got her to move. She took hold of it away from him, her soft delicate hand brushing against his skin as she did so. She sat up slowly. At first, she couldn’t make eye contact with him. He frowned taking in the dark shadow across her face and the large purple bruise forming across

her forehead. He felt his anger rise reading the word written across her face in the lipstick. Kang-Dae stood and grabbed some more tissue.

“You don’t look so good,” he said touching her arm, afraid she was about to pass out.

“I can’t believe she did that to you.”

Her beautiful ice blue eyes twinkled at him as she gave him a weak smile, wiping at the blood on her nose and the lipstick on her sore face with the tissue he had given her..