Chapter 16 — Fried Chicken before The Storm

There Jian was eating the Korean fried chicken with Putra. Ji An was wearing a cap to prevent people from recognising her. But then, a guy, who looked like in his late 30s, was looking at her confused and started to rise from his seat to approach her. Ji An kicked Putra’s leg from underneath their table.

“Psstt… nom… that person… nom… recognise me.” Ji An asked with fried chicken still in her mouth.

“Huh? Well, what do we do?” I asked.

“Okay, phew… nom… think Ji An, think…”

“Relax, as far as the public knows, you are de…” as I was about to finish my sentence, The man in question was standing beside our table and interrupted me.


I looked at him and then immediately looked back at Ji An, expecting a horrified and angry expression, yet she looked shockingly calm.

“Is there anything… nom… we can help you with, ahjussi?” Ji An asked the man, while still chewing the fried chicken.

“You look weirdly familiar. No, you look exactly like Lee Ji An, the singer.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve got that before. Sometimes people came to me asking for signatures, or even photos. But well, with her recent death. I don’t think I can pretend to be her anymore.” Ji An answered, calmly, with no fried chicken in her mouth now.

“Huh. Right — Well then, do you mind if I take a picture with you? I mean I can just say that I took a picture with Ji An before she passed away.”

Really? What a dick.

Putra started to speak up, “I don’t think that is appropriate, sir…”

Ji An, “Yeah, that is quite disrespectful to her.”

“Come on, nobody will know.”

Putra was going to stand up and push him away when Ji An raised her voice, “A no, is a no.”

The man looked quite offended. How dare he.

“What a bitch. Fine!”

The man went back to his seat. The two of us sighed with relief.

“Did you face things like this in life?”

“Yeah, just less weird. I usually would not raise my voice like that but I am literally dead.”

“Yeah, you are. What an asshole.”

“Well, let’s carry on to have a normal conversation.” Jian picked another friend chicken, she has eaten 5 pieces by now when Putra had only eaten three.

“Hey, don’t you think you should — “

“Shut up. I couldn’t eat as much as I want in life, okay?”


“Anyway. Nom. How’s the romantic development with Rin?”

Putra choked on the bones and started coughing.

“Holy shit, you okay? Chill — the fate of the universe literally depends on you not dying from choking on a chicken bone.”

Putra drank some water and whispered a scream at Ji An. “What! you are the one who asked something so stupid all of the sudden!”

“Heh… well, I did see you sneak out with her last night.”

“What! You were watching?”

“Hey, I need to make sure the two of you are safe!”

“Tch, fine. Yeah, we did talk, it was not anything romantic though.”

“Ho, what a shame. Did you not make any move at all?”

“I am not taking this from a lady that died with one boyfriend in her list of experiences.”

“Huh, as if you know.”

“What, am I wrong?”

Ji An drank some water and looked away. Blushed.

“Not really.”

“Ha! I knew it.”

The two of them laughed.

Suddenly Putra’s phone rang. It was a text. From my best friend.

Hey, is this you? And is that Ji An with you?

Attached in the message is a link to a Twitter photo of me and Jian, eating fried chicken together. The caption says “Idol Lee Ji An Is Not Dead.”

“Oh shit.”