Main Characters in the Story:

*Kim So Hyun as "Athena" Myung-hee Park

*Tom Hiddleston as Himself

Minor Characters in the Story:

*Eion Bailey as the Interviewer

*Cha Seung-Won as Park Woo-bin {Myung-hee's father}

*Woo Hee-Jin as Park Eun-hye {Myung-hee's mother}


Chapter I: They Were As Real As It Gets.

~o~

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.

~o~

"Athena." The interviewer says.

I stare at the floor. I have been sitting in this chair for the past ten minutes while this man from News 12 Connecticut asks me tons of questions about my disappearance. Most of them are the same question but reworded. You would swear he wasn't even listening.

"Where were you staying all this time? This wasn't just for a couple of days. This was years of absence, of search parties and advertisements for you."

The bright lights shining on us hurts my eyes. The camera people listen intently, and the makeup artist stands there and encourages me.

Please smile. I think of that line in Tom's voice, and I wonder what he could be up to right now. Has he even gotten off the plane yet? I shrug at the interview's question. "I was… around. Got to see a few places. But the fact is I'm home and safe. No one needs to know that…" I consider telling them one of my locations. It wouldn't hurt anyone, and it's not like my parents can undo what's already been done. I decided to try and give them a little something to work with. "Okay, I'll tell you how I spent about a month in New York, and it was really fun. I have never had so many churros and chicken gyros in my life. And Broadway is very beautiful. I mean, until they kicked me out of the broken-down car I was staying in."

There are a few laughs in the room. I wish I could see who they were coming from; as I grew more anxious for the end of the interview that one light seems to get brighter and brighter.

"Okay," he says when the room is quiet again. "Well, I can see you're getting a little tired of this."

No. I was just rushed into an interview and a frenzy makeup and hair right when I got home. It's only ten-thirty at night. It's all good.

"I only have one more question."

What now?

"Why'd you come back?"

This is the question I have to lie about. Give them something to break their hearts.

"Like we've said: you've been gone for years. You were practically still a kid when you left. I mean, you were the smartest kid in Stamford; you were worshipped. Your knowledge could have been borrowed to do fantastic things. We know why you left. We know where you've been. Now tell us: why did you decide to return to your parents?"

I stare at my hands. What should I tell him? I put together the pieces of the story in my head, remaining dead silent as I do this. Finally, I look at him, my throat tighten with the thought of the man that convinced me.

The story in my head: Because I was alone and miserable even though I convinced myself that I was just fine. I was surviving. I was eating. I was making money. And it wasn't enough. It was never enough. Still I refused to go home. There was no way I would come back here. Then I became lucky one day and met one of the greatest actors of our time: Tom Hiddleston. As any fan would, I nearly flipped myself when I had to interview him. But then… I started to hang out with him more. And more. And finally, he just kissed me. It was surprising, but it was the best experience of my life. Anyway, I'm not here to talk about my love life. I fell in love with Tom. He fell in love with me. I was happy, but in a way, he wasn't. He wanted me to come back. He asked me to turn myself in. Like the stubborn teen I am, I refused. Then… well, then it came a time for him to leave. I didn't take that easily, and I surely made it a bit worse for him. When he left, I decided that I owe him so much. Then I found myself at the door of my old home.

The story I give him: "I don't know." I claw at my palm with my thumbnail.

"Well, something must have happened to make you come back."

Something happened. "No. nothing." The love of my life made me see the problems in the person I wanted to be. "I just looked back at my life and realized I didn't need to live like that." He convinced me that I deserve better. "I was finally convinced that I deserve something better than waiting for money and rationing my food." He turned out to be the only one I trusted in the world, and although it was great that I could trust him, I eventually realized that I was mentally and emotionally unhealthy. "I was not well. At all. I was dangerously insecure, resorting myself to cutting and bleeding and a lot of self-harm. I put a lot of thought into killing myself. But then I realized it wasn't worth it. That, and the bleach is way too expensive for me." I laughed softly, my nerves pushing it out of me to lighten the mood a little bit on that sentence. He had faith in me. I didn't think it was possible, but I saw myself in a different way of living, and it wasn't on the streets. "All I needed was a little faith, and someone very close to me had that to me. I didn't think I would believe in myself ever again. Finally, I decided to come here and hope my parents would help me to get my life back on track." When I finished my story, I wait for the interview to say something.

He just sits there, absolutely heart-broken. His face is nothing, but sympathetic. Interviewers aren't supposed to look like that. Is my story really that touching, or is he just a really good actor? "You sound like you had it pretty hard out there. And you still managed to make it through and, eventually, return home. With your IQ still the same, if I'm not mistaken."

"I took a few tests at school. My IQ level actually increased a few points."

"Wow. Impressive. I'm just curious about little thing. You mentioned someone in the explanation. Who was it that was so close to you?"

I smiled. "If you don't mind, I would like to keep the name to myself. Just know that there couldn't have been anyone more important to me."

The room is uncomfortably silent. Everyone stands around (at least, I think they're standing), probably watching the miraculously found girl.

Something pops into my head. I didn't plan on doing this, doing anything like this, but I look right into the camera, to the thousands to millions of people who are or will be watching this.

"I'm going to tell you right now, whether you're a child or an adult because adults can pass the message on: don't run. Running doesn't help. Running doesn't solve problems. Running just gets you away so you can be left to deal with the problems alone. It's not worth it." Tears push themselves out from my eyes, the one thing I didn't want to happen on camera. "Don't…" I swallow, my voice too shaky to continue without a pause. "Don't make the same m-mistake I made. You may say you're strong, but… no one, no child in this world, no matter how smart you are, can live without the warmth, love and protection your loved ones give you. And if that's not the case with you, if you have a bad relationship with those people because they treat you like trash, you still don't need to run away. Running shows weaknesses, and weaknesses gives the messed-up guardian a victory. Stay strong until you're allowed to go. You will see that it's worth it."

I hear a few sniffles in the room, and I know I have won them over even though that wasn't my intention.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks and look back at the interviewer.

"Athena." He says. "You are a bright, wonderful and hopefully inspiring. Your story is absolutely touching, and I hope your message gets across to the children out there who are thinking of running away. Thank you so much for the interview. That'll be all for today."

"Thank you." I say with a smile. I shake his hand, and the bright light goes off. The camera stops rolling, and the clapping begins.

I look around at all their faces, searching for my parents. I spent a total of half an hour with them before the surprise interview. I stand up and walk away from the small set. I finally spot them in the doorway to the dining room. I walk over to them, and both are a tearful, joyful mess. My mother pulls me into a suffocating hug, and my father just adds to the pressure.

"Nae agi. {My baby.}" She says, the words she's been saying since they opened the door, hopefully she'll add an actual sentence afterwards. "Nae agi. Nae agaui jib-iya. Nae jag-eun Athena, eom-ma-ya. {My baby. My baby girl's home. My little Athena, oh my god.}"

"Ah, Jibgwa ilh-eobeolin gong-gi. Jibgwa ilh-eobeolin gong-gi {Ah, home and losing air. Home and losing air.}"

They release me, smiling as I take deep breaths. My father… O Ileon, {Oh God,} I still look like him. "Neohuideul-eun neulg-eo. Jogeumman. {You guys got old. Just a bit.}" I say with a wide smile.

"Eh." My appa says. "Geugeos-eun myeoch nyeon-i jinamyeon balsaenghabnida. Teughi uli ttal-iiss-eul su-issneun gos-eul gangjo hal ttae geuleohseubnida. {That happens when years have passed, especially when we're stressing over where our daughter could be.}"

"Geulsse, amado seleujio-eseo deo ppalli ttwimyeon ... {Well, maybe if you ran faster at Sergio's…}" I wait for him to catch on.

He looks at me, confused. He stays that way, trying to figure out what I'm talking about. It takes him a while before he finally realizes when I am referring to. "Algo iss-eoss-eo… Naneun neoleul geogieseo bon geos-eul al-assda. Naneun neoleul al-assda. {I knew it… I knew I saw you there. I knew it was you.} Neoneun jigeum neomu dalla boinda. Dangsin-eun geoui yeojacheoleom boibnida. {You look so different now. You almost look like a woman.}"

"Mal. Gomawo, appa. {Gee. Thanks, dad.}"

"Uliga neoleul majimag-eulo bon ihulo nega gaebalhaessdaneun geos-eul uimihanda. {He means you have developed since we last saw you.}" My eomma says, helping my appa out here. "Myeoch nyeon jeon ... dangsin-i aleumdaun eolin sonyeo yeoss-eul ttae ... o, nae ttal. {Which was years ago… when you were a beautiful little girl… oh, my baby girl.}" She starts crying again.

I give her a tight, supportive hug. I'm as tall as her now, a little taller with the boots I have on. I'm about two in half a foot shorter than my appa, he does seem a bit like the giant I saw in my memories anymore. "Ulji maseyo. Naneun jib-eissda. na yeogi wass-eo. Naneun kkwae olae amudedo gaji anh-eulgeoya. {Please stop crying. I'm home. I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere for quite a while.}"

"Athena." I hear someone from behind me.

I turn around to see the interviewer coming my way. "Joh-a, jamkkanman. johguna? {Okay, just give me a minute. Alright?}" I say to my eomma. When she nods, I let her go and head for the interviewer.

"Great job in the interview." He says. "Please tell those emotions were real."

"They were as real as real gets."

"Wonderful. You were fantastic, and I loved the message you threw in at the end. Since there weren't any mistakes in this interview, I'm going to ask, if not make the station play the entire interview on News 12. This is not something we can simply cut up and play in little segments."

"Thank you. I hope that goes well."

"Okay, take care now, and I'm glad you've decided to reunite with your parents."

"Alright. Good night."

"Good night."

When he walks away, I turn back to my parents.

"Eom-ma-ya, dangsin-eun yeol yeoseos sal-ieyo? {Oh my god, you're sixteen.}" My eomma smiles, her face now clean of tears.

"Ne. Eodi boja. hal su-issda wol gyeolmal, geulaeseo yeol yeoseos dal sib-o il jeon-e yeol-ilgob sal-ibnida. {Yeah. Let's see. May's ending out, so there are six months fifteen days before I'm seventeen.}"

"Yejeoncheoleom sigan-eul gyesanhaji anh-eulgeoya? {You're not going to calculate the hours like you used to?}"

I nod my head. "Naneun olae jeon-e geuleohgehaji anh-assda. {I stopped doing that a long time ago.}"

~o~

I finish putting the last of my clothes in the dresser. They replaced the set a couple of years ago for the day I came home. I push the drawer closed and take a look around my room.

Everything is in place. Replaced my baby books with better ones. The black-and-white bed set contrast with my white walls, and I say that because the edges if every window and wall have been painted red, blue, yellow or green. The carpet's been vacuumed multiple times. My closet still holds old dresses and a box of notebooks I used to write my stories in. I'm glad they got a much bigger beanbag chair. I'm sure as hell wasn't going to fit in the old one.

Other than the new stuff, the room doesn't feel like it's changed. It still feels pretty big, the arrangement hasn't changed, and yet I still feel like I'm in a stranger's room. This room belongs to me, but it doesn't. I know I used to live here, and I know used to sleep in that bed. But in my years of hiding, this room eventually became more dream-like. Even then, when it was in my dreams, I would always see a little, petite Korean girl with dark brown hair and innocent intentions in life. I never saw myself there as a child. Today, I have to get used to it because from now on, this is my life.

"Annyeonghi jumuseyo, Myung-hee. {Good night, Myung-hee.}" My eomma says as she pulls my door closed.

"Annyeonghi jumuseyo." I get into bed with my black tank top and purple pajama bottoms. I lay down and pull the covers over me. The covers and bed sheets are very soft. It's alright, I guess. It would be better if it were the bed I had in Tom's house.

Tom.

Tom was supposed to call me.

I grab my cellphone off the night table and check for any missed calls: Tom Hiddleston. "Goddamn it!" I call Tom right back. I hold the phone to my ear.

He answers on the first ring. "Hello, love." Tom greets me.

"Eom-ma-ya, {Oh my god,} Tom. I am so sorry. I was waiting for your call, but I fell asleep. I didn't even hear your phone ring."

"Don't worry about it. I know how late it was when I called you. As long as you're okay."

"Yes, I'm fine. I just got home."

"Please tell me your home is in Conneticut."

I smiled. "Yes, it's in Conneticut. Stamford, actually, in a big house, a nice room, there's food, television… and my parents…"

"What?"

"Oh! I should probably tell you I went back to my parents."

"Myung-hee, that's wonderful! What happened when they saw you?"

"Oh, you know. We stared, then we cried, then my parents call to tell the police that I'm home, then I somehow pushed into an interview that only finished half an hour ago."

"Wow. You've had a busy night."

"Yeah. Well, I take it you got home safely."

"Yes, I did. I'm unpacking my things right about now. I forgot how large my home is."

"That was my thought when I got here, too."

"Do you know what I realized as I was looking through my pictures on the plane? I have absolutely no photos of you in here. I feel terrible. I was hoping there was something in here, but we used your phone for any pictures you and I took together."

"I'll just text them to you if you would like. I'll send them after we're done here."

"Alright."

He tells me about his flight home. Apparently, three flight attendants flirted with him, one of them 'accidentally' spilling champagne on him and excessively dabbling him with a thin towel. That part gave me a small twist in my stomach. It was out of jealousy, of course but then I laughed about. It was a stupid gesture by a 'clumsy' woman. I have nothing to worry about it… I hope.

The conversation had lasted as long as his flight. Finally, we both decided we need to go to sleep. "Araso, {Alright,}" I say, rubbing my eye. "I'm surprised you survived the plane this long. I think it's time we call it a night."

"Okay, love. Get some rest. I'm so proud of you for doing this."

"I figured. Good night."

"Good night." He hangs up.

I smiled as I set the phone on silent and put it on the night table. I turn onto my back and stare at the ceiling. The memory of my parents' reaction earlier plays in my head.

"Hello." My eomeoni {mother} says. She doesn't seem to recognize me at all.

I stare at her, speechless. There must be a hand around my throat because I can't breathe, speak or even think properly. I don't know what to say to her. Do I tell her who I am first? Do I ask her to come in? Ani-yo, {No,} that's just strange. I'm just a stranger to her for now.

My eomeoni looks around. "Um, may I help you with something, sweetheart?"

I blink back my tears of shock and joy. I swallowed and try to speak.

"Ma'am… I, um…I found your daughter." I don't know how, but I was able to keep my voice as steady as possible.

Her eyes widen and she opens the door all the way. "Eom-ma-ya, {Oh my god,} you found Myung-hee, my Athena. Woo-bin!" She hurries out of the kitchen, calling that same name over and over. "Woo-bin! Yeogi naelyeowa! I jeolm-eun agassineun Myung-hee ga eodie issneunji algo issseubnida! {Woo-bin! Get down here! This young lady knows where Myung-hee is!}"

A couple of minutes later, both my parents come into the kitchen. My eomeoni pulls out a chair for me to sit.

"Oh, we don't need that. Believe me." My voice becomes a whisper on that last word. I clear my throat.

"Well, sweetheart, just start with how you know it's her?"

"Wait a second," My abeoji {father} says. "What's with all the trash bags? That… that's not her, is it?" For a moment, he looks horrified.

"No! No, no, no, no! These are mine. I was just… just bringing them home with me."

"Okay, hananim gamsahabnida. {thank god}. Now, how did you know it was Myung-hee?"

I figure out a way to explain. "Well… see, I saw her in a, a bathroom mirror. She was washing her hands, and I immediately knew exactly who she was."

"Where was this bathroom?" My eomeoni takes one step closer.

"Remo's."

My eomeoni releases a shaky breath. Her eyes are turning red. I can see it. Tears rim her eyes, the dark brown eyes I have now. "My little girl's in Stamford." She whispers.

Tears of my own are threatening to spill from my eyes. I can't hold this off any longer. If I don't tell her now, it's going to turn into a cruel game. "W-Would you like to… see her?"

My parents' moist eyes land on me again. Their faces, the expressions of a mixture of disbelief, hopefulness and shock, make my heart drop to the cores of the Earth.

"Okay. If you two could please turn around for me that would be great." I push a smile on them.

Hesitant, they both do as I say and turn around.

My head as light as a feather, I take a deep breath and walk the kitchen table to stand in front of them again. I move carefully just so I don't startle them

My abeoji is the first to look at me, and he's confused.

"Annyeong appa {Hi, dad}." I forced out as my strength's disappearing.

My eomma, her face now covered in tears, looks at me.

He begins to look irritated. "If this is some kind of a goddamn joke-"

"If this were a joke, then how would I know you used to call me Giggles because I would never stop laughing? And how would I know you searched frantically all over Stamford for me because I never told anyone I was going to be basement to read for a while?"

He looks at me. There no words to describe his face right now.

"Eomma. {Mom.}" I say.

She continues to stare at me.

"Apeuge halkwigo ganeun nal-i seon balam sog-edo {The days that past by painfully in the stillness of the day and wind}

Han jum byeot-i joh-aseo una {But the one small ray of sun makes me smile}

Bappeuge seuchigo ganeun. Mujeonghan salam sog-edo {Everyone is so busy. They get on with their lives}

Han jum beos-i joh-aseo una {But that one friend makes me smile}"

Oeloum eobsneun gos-eul chajge doemyeon {When I find a place where loneliness does not exist}

Nawa geu gos-eulo hamkke gadao- {Join me there my friend, come with me-}"

"Chingu chinguya neodawo gomawo {My dear friend, thank you for being you}." Singing that song turned her eyes to waterfalls instantly.

"Jigeum naleul midni? {Do you believe me now?}"

It takes them a minute to process this. Finally, my abeoji pulls me into a hug, my eomeoni joining in immediately. We cried together, my eomeoni repeating the words. "Nae agi. Nae agi. Nae agi. Nae Athena. {My baby. My baby. My baby. My Athena.}"

Nothing was said after that. It was just tears and gratefulness and for them, a miracle. Their daughter, their now sixteen-year-old daughter, has finally come home and is now lying in the bed that's been empty for too many years, in a room prepared for this very day. I can only hope this means a change in this home: no fighting over little problems.