The Missing Finger

Footsteps echoed through a backstage corridor of the Seoul Memorial Park stadium, the sounds bouncing off the polished floor and trans-steel window, swelling and folding back on themselves to match the hall's contours.

At the heart of this chorus was Jun J., a tall and intensely handsome man — an idol. His strides were filled with ease of purpose, unlike the fitful shuffle of the short man in an overcoat and hat struggling to keep up with him. This was Woo Sung-min, his agent.

'You can't keep doing this, Mr Jun. Do you have any idea how stressful this is for me? I'm losing sleep — I'm losing my hair!'

'Is that why you've been wearing that hat, seonbae?'

He reached across and tried to pluck the hat off the man's head, but Sung-min batted the slender hand away and clamped the brim down tightly around his ears.

Jun laughed. 'It doesn't suit you. It's too small for your head.'

'Aigo! Forget the hat. The hat isn't important. It's—'

Jun hushed him as they passed a security guard, who saw Jun and stood to attention immediately.

'Good evening, Mr Jun!' he said. Then, unable to help himself: 'Good luck in the concert tonight. My daughter loves you!'

Jun called back a thanks as his agent hurried him along.

'We'd love to stay and chat, but Mr Jun has an urgent appointment.'

As they passed out of earshot, Jun turned his attention to the small screen on his wrist. He scrolled through an article about the show he played in Busan last month. The press loved it, of course.

'There's a lot of media attention on you right now. Can you imagine what it would be like if this got out? Can you imagine the headlines? "Pop sensation in cannibalism scandal!" It would be over for you.' He made a slicing motion through the air with his arms. 'Over!'

'Cannibalism?' Jun laughed. 'You're exaggerating, seonbae. It was just one finger.'

Sung-min threw his hands in the air. 'One finger, a whole arm — what does it matter! You cannot eat your fans! I can't believe I have to explain this to you.'

Jun shrugged. 'I really don't see what the problem is. You never made such a fuss before. These things happen.'

'I'm hearing some worrying things from the agency. We're spending a lot of money to keep you out of trouble, Mr Jun.'

Jun stopped and placed a hand on Sung-min's shoulder. 'And how much money was spent on my training? Two billion? Three?' He shook his head. 'They'll protect their investment. How much can it cost to pay some stupid girl to keep her mouth shut about one little finger?'

They arrived at the dressing room. On the door shone a gold star with 'Jun J.' etched into its surface. Jun passed his hand over the small scanner next to the lock, which chirped, and the door swung open.

'I have to prepare for my concert, seonbae. Everything will be fine.'

Sung-min frowned, then touched Jun lightly on the arm. 'Listen - no more of those pills after the show, okay? Especially if there are fans backstage.'

Jun gave a dismissive wave of his hand and disappeared into the room, closing the door behind him. Sung-min sighed deeply and scratched at the back of his head, his fingers slipping up under the hat. A dozen hairs came off in his hand.

'Excuse me, eijeonteu-nim?'

A police officer approached the dressing room, one hand resting on the stun-stick hanging from his belt. His dark eyes looked over Sung-min, as if he could see the guilt rising off him like smoke. 'You work for Mr Jun?'

Sung-min smiled nervously. '... Yes?'

The officer cracked a smile. 'I'm a fan. Do you think I could get an autographed picture?'

A wave of relief swept over Sung-min. He couldn't help laughing. 'I'm afraid Jun J. is busy preparing for the show, Officer. Come back later.'

'Ah, it was worth a try.' The officer's smile faded. Then he seemed to think of something. 'One other thing...'

He moved closer, his face creasing into an expression of deep concern. Sung-min felt his chest tighten. The officer raised an accusatory finger.

'You should get a hat that doesn't fit so tightly,' he said. 'You know you can lose your hair like that?'

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Written for the Christmas 'secret santa' short story competition on the 'Writer's Block' Discord server. The prompt I received was Genre: Post-Cyberpunk, Location: Seoul, Korea, Must Contain: Cannibalistic K-Pop Idol.