A few days later another bouquet arrives, different from the first, still just as beautiful, still no name attached. This time the card reads, “Your grace is only matched by the flowers natural sway in a breeze.”
Alright than…. poetic, nice compliment, definitely getting creepier. A call to the front desk confirms another delivery to your name and room number. Perhaps it is someone at your clients business? You have been spending a lot of hours there; however, you haven’t noticed anyone trying to pay you any extra attention. You aren’t feeling threatened, yet. Your previous stalker has no idea how to find you, after all he has a restraining order and community service. Nah, it can’t be him, must just be someone trying to brighten your day, you tell yourself. You won’t ever let it get as far as it once did, never again. You reach for your anti-anxiety medication, there is some stress that just never leaves no matter how hard you work out or go to therapy.
You stop at the front desk to ask when the manager gets in and leaves for the day. It can’t hurt to see if the hotel will watch out for stragglers, right? There are people who meet at hotels but usually someone seen hanging around or acting suspicious is fairly obvious.
As soon as you leave his office, the manager picks up the phone. Since the owner stays at the hotel occasionally, his friends and family more often, security is taken quite seriously. The owner takes great pride in the safety, security, and comfort of all his guests. He requested to be notified immediately if any sort of problem occurred. While this was not a problem, yet, he leaves a message on the owner’s machine. He then goes out to inform the front desk that he wants to be alerted the next time there is a delivery to your room.
Within two days, another knock comes to your hotel room door. You stop and stare, then berate yourself. You haven’t been this afraid to open a door in over a year and you aren’t going to let it start again! After a few deep breathes, you roll your eyes at yourself and head over to open it. The same bell boy greets you with a smile and another bouquet of flowers. You smile back, take the card and bouquet and quietly close the door. Taking a deep breath you put the flowers on the table with the others and open the card.
“Happiness is assured, just by watching your body move.”
You drop the card, now it’s creepy! You can feel your stomach trying to come up through your throat. You grab a bottle of water from the fridge and your pills. Your hands are shaking so badly that it takes a couple of tries to get the bottle open and then you spill them on the counter. You promised yourself you would never be the victim again. You prepared yourself with defense classes, therapy, everything available, but no amount of preparation holds back a panic attack. Moving to another hotel is annoying, but now seems necessary. You have no idea how anyone knows where you are, it isn’t like you post it anywhere or have a lot of friends to discuss it with. Is this person in the same hotel? Will they see you when you try to leave? Will they follow you to a new one?
You collapse on the bed and take several deep breathes. First things first, you need to call around and see if there are any rooms available. Right now, you are in for the night and should be safe. No direct threats have been made to you, there’s no reason to run out screaming at this minute. You double check the locks, add your own door alarm and settle in. Sleep isn’t going to come easily, if at all, better to take a sleeping aid, and be thankful that the next day is the weekend.
Someone is knocking rather loudly on your door. You glance at the clock, 10 am, and your head falls back to the pillow. You don’t have work, you don’t have friends, and you aren’t accepting any more flowers, whoever it is needs to go away. You try ignoring it, you even try putting a pillow over your head but they are persistent. When someone states loudly they will use the house key to unlock your door and verify your safety you shoot straight out of bed. You peek through the eye hole and see the manager standing in the hall, his hand raised to start knocking again.
“Just a minute!” you yell through the door, removing your alarm and unlocking the locks.
You throw the door open, in your shorts and tank top, a button up shirt thrown on for modesty.
“What? Is the hotel on fire?” You try not to scream at the man.
Out of the corner of your eye you see a movement, so your head naturally follows. Standing to the right of your door, head downcast, eyes averted, his hand trying to cover his laugh is none other than Kim Junsu. Your eyes widen to saucers, you step back inside your room and slam the door.